Unbound (28 page)

“Huh.” I nodded. “Where is the real Cicely Mansfield?”
She’d be quite surprised to learn she was at Glasgow airport this morning.

“Rehab.”

Of course.
“But won’t this draw more attention to us?”

“Yes.” He frowned at the sea of schoolgirls as if they
possessed some real threat that he could perceive. “That’s why Amun will be
less likely to suspect us. I hope.” The last statement was more of a mutter.

Mara waved at us from the desk where she had been
speaking to the ticket agent and flashed the thumbs-up sign. We could board
now. Flanked by my escort of witches and immortals, I was guided away from the
seething mass of fans and through the gates. One more step closer to the
Council.

As I walked up the boarding ramp beside Amerlyn, he
smiled encouragingly at me, clearly pleased with our success so far.

Bewildered, I shook my head in disbelief. “Elora did
this?”

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “I haven’t been
part of an entourage…” he tapped his head lightly with one finger, “in at least
500 years. Not since my days in the court of Henry VIII.”

In his brown corduroy pants and worn wool sweater, he
looked the least likely candidate for an entourage I’d ever seen. I couldn’t
imagine what the tweens had made of him. “What did she do?”

“It’s a glamour – a spell that deceives the
perceptions of those that behold us. To them,” he nodded his head back towards
the gate, “you
are
the irascible young songstress they think you are.”

“But why do you look the same to me?”

“Elora is quite capable of deceiving all of us, if she
chose to, but it’s harder for her to hold the glamour for those who know they
are being deceived. Imagine being a magician performing a card trick for the
person who knows how it’s done. We have some distance yet to go and she’s
trying to conserve her energy.”
 

Although I was grateful
that I was still in the company of people I recognized, I wished desperately
that somehow it wasn’t necessary to burden them all in this way. Guilt crawled
heavily onto my shoulders, as useful as a bag of hammers.

Once settled in the luxury of first class, I
discreetly watched the other passengers board the plane behind the relative
security of opaque sunglasses – courtesy of Mara. She had pulled them out
of her bag as she had sat down and handed them to me with a curt, “Put these
on.”

Even less covertly, many of the passengers were
returning the favor, glancing quickly at me and then my entourage seated casually
around me, before hastily looking away, only to have their eyes slide back
moments later. Although I saw a few girls engage in some frantic whispering and
pointing, no one had approached me for an autograph in the confines of the
aircraft.

Glancing at Eaden, I wondered if he weren’t the reason
for it. He looked about as grimly formidable as I’d ever seen him. His grave,
steady gaze raked each and every passenger over without rest. I wasn’t sure how
he would physically appear to others under the glamour, but I was convinced the
dangerous glint in his eye would translate.

“You’re going to scare these poor people to death if
you keep glaring at everyone like that,” I whispered.

His eyes never left the cabin door. “Good.”

Nervously, I looked over at Elora, who sat directly
across the aisle from us. Her smile was reassuring, but I noticed that Mara
wore the same vigilant expression as Eaden.
What were they expecting?
And
did I really want to know?

“If you’re so worried about the other passengers, then
why didn’t we take your plane?”

Reluctantly, he tore his eyes briefly away from the
door to meet mine. “We wanted to avoid anything being traced back to Amerlyn or
myself. Even celebrities fly commercial sometimes.”

“Uh-huh.” I eyed him skeptically. “What’s the other
reason?”

“What other reason?” He
looked annoyed.

“The one you’re not telling me.”

I heard a chortle from the seat in front of me where
Amerlyn sat beside Sita. “There’ll be no more evasion from you, will there,
lad? She’s got your number.”

Shooting the back of the seat an indignant glance,
Eaden sighed and turned to face me. “There is less of a chance that Amun would
sabotage a passenger plane than a private jet. Even
he
might hesitate to draw the ire of the Council and the
attention of the mortal world by causing so many casualties.”

Sabotage? Casualties?
We weren’t just trying to avoid detection; we were
trying to avoid a massacre. “We’re using these passengers as a shield?” I tried
to keep my voice as neutral as his but I simply didn’t have the years of
practice. It rose a little hysterically at the end of my statement.

He held his customary unfathomable expression. “Yes.”

Right. Well, I had wanted
to know and now I did.
Of course, knowing that
didn’t stop me from feeling as if I were about to vomit, but I couldn’t fault
Eaden for my weak constitution.

“It’s a precaution, Rachel. Nothing more,” he said,
soothingly. “If I thought there was any real danger to you, we wouldn’t be on
this plane at all.”

“But putting other people in danger is just fine?” I
muttered.

He declined to answer and
kept his eyes on the last passengers who were boarding.

Sita clambered round in her seat so that her delicate
face appeared over the top of the headrest. Her azure eyes were gentle. “Don’t blame
Eaden. This was a decision agreed upon by all of us.” She smiled kindly.
“Remember that keeping you away from Amun keeps all of these people safe, too.
They’ll not be thankful for their lives if the consequence is the loss of
freedom to live as they wish.” She cast a worried glance at Eaden, who was
still dedicated to scrutinizing the few remaining passengers on their feet,
trying to squeeze their hand luggage into the overhead compartments. “Once
we’re in the air, everyone will feel safer,” she reassured me.

I remained dubious. There was nothing about takeoff
that had ever led me to feel safe.

Only when the flight attendant had shut the cabin door
and begun to prepare for departure did Eaden finally release himself from his
rigid vigilance. Yet, still edgier than I’d ever seen him, he all but hummed
with impatience for our takeoff. If I didn’t know better, I’d have called him
nervous. Which did nothing for my own confidence.

Shutting my eyes, I willed my heart to slow down,
willed my stomach to settle, willed the fear that was never far from me to
dissipate. As the plane rolled forward, gathering speed, and my stomach
clenched, Eaden’s hand covered mine where it clutched the armrest.
 
The disconcerting floating sensations as
the wheels left the runway caused my stomach to somersault with panic, but with
deep breaths I managed to prevent full-fledged panic from overtaking me.

The moment the “Fasten Seatbelt” sign had turned off,
Eaden was on his feet. Leaning across the top of Elora’s seat, he spoke quietly
to Mara, who remained as grim-faced as was. Craning my neck to look at them, I
tried to get some hint of what they were discussing by studying their faces.
Catching me in the act, Mara rolled her eyes and murmured something that caused
him to turn to look at me expectantly.

“What is it,
mo
cridhe
?”

“Nothing. Just…can’t you sit down for a bit?”

He stared at me uncomprehendingly as if my question
were nonsensical, and seemed about to answer, but instead whipped his head
around to glare as the curtains separating the first class section from coach
were pulled aside. The flight attendant looked visibly startled at coming face
to chest with him. I couldn’t blame her. He looked like a lunatic.

Eyeing him warily, she scooted past and he resumed his
cautious scan of the other passengers before leaning over to speak with Mara
again.

I sighed. The flight to Heathrow was only 90 minutes
long, but promised to feel much longer if this continued. Watching Eaden’s eyes
dart between Mara, the curtain, and myself, I was becoming more concerned about
him than I was about Amun. He was usually so unflappable. The change in his
demeanour led me to believe we were in a very dangerous predicament. Maybe even
more dangerous than he was letting on.

Turning my attention to the mini television screen on
the back of the seat in front of me, I tried to focus on the old sitcom that
was being rerun. Too anxious to disconnect completely, I decided to forgo the
headphones and study the actors’ lips instead. I had almost figured out the
plot when Mara’s urgent whisper cut through my concentration.

“Eaden, they know.” The mix of alarm and urgency in
her tone was so intense that she could have yelled with less effect. She met
Eaden’s eyes and then flicked her gaze to me quickly before looking back at
him.

His voice was terse. “Shield us.”

As I had seen her do only once before, Mara chanted a
string of words, and the ink drawings on her arms danced and writhed before
settling back into their frozen poses.

“Be quick.” Eaden commanded. He looked like he was
going to crawl out of his skin with impatience.

“They know we’re arriving by plane from Scotland, but
they’re not sure which airline. They’ve mobilized security teams at Heathrow so
no one will be able to move through the gates without passing through their checkpoints.”

Eaden swore so loudly that I jumped in my seat. Not in
Gaelic. I didn’t know if I was more frightened by Mara’s information or the
look of panicked rage on Eaden’s face. I could see I wasn’t alone. Sita and Elora
looked uncertainly at him like he was someone they had never met before.

It was Amerlyn who stepped in, his voice cracking like
a whip from the seat in front of us. “
Tibi impero!
”

Eaden went rigid; his jaw clenched hard, his eyes
furious. And then, taking a deep breath, he visibly relaxed his posture.

Amerlyn stood and faced him, still looking for all the
world like a diminutive dear relative. It was hard to reconcile that fierce
command and the way Eaden had reacted to it with the compassionate glance he
bestowed upon him now. “Sit down, lad.” He touched his arm lightly.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding as
Eaden sank into the seat beside me, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked
defeated. Sita moved into the aisle to stand beside Amerlyn.

“This is a complication, yes. But one we were
expecting. This is why we have brought these wonderfully talented women along
with us.” Amerlyn looked at Mara. “How many are there?”

She shook her head, frustrated. “They haven’t
specified their numbers exactly, but the teams are made of up Amun’s immortals
and airport security. Hang on…“ She held up her palm and lowered her head.
After several minutes, she lifted it again. “Their cover story is that they’re
looking for drug smugglers who have links to a terrorist organization –
that’s how they received clearance to do this.” She made a face and snickered a
little. “Like Rachel could be a terrorist – she’s afraid of the
dark.”
 

“Mara.” Eaden’s voice was low, but the warning was
clear.

I spoke for the first time. “Can’t Elora disguise us
from them?”

Elora’s look was gentle, patient. “We are disguised,
Rachel. They aren’t really looking for us. They’ll be able to feel you.” Her
voice held all of the trepidation that I felt. “We need to confuse them, make
it more difficult to identify you by sense.”

With a chill, I remembered Sabas’s words in the cold,
dark, night air.

You telegraph nicely.

Amun was using this to his advantage.

Mara turned Eaden. “How close do you need to be to
pinpoint Rachel’s location exactly?”

His voice was hollow as he stared at the floor.
“Fairly close. Maybe 100 metres? It gets easier with practice. Of course, I
know who I’m looking for…” he trailed off, his hand clutching his hair like a
life line.

Amerlyn considered this. “What if the room is
crowded?”

Eaden shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s like a
magnet. There’s a pull in her direction. If others were standing nearby, if
there were enough people, I suppose it wouldn’t be as easy.”

“Right then, we can assume they’ll be relying on the
fact that they can feel her and using that to identify her as quickly as they
can. The longer we can delay them from finding her, the better our chances at
getting through.”

Sita spoke up, choosing her words carefully. “If there
were a lot of people in one space and enough distraction, would it be harder to
pinpoint her location among a group?”

Eaden nodded cautiously. “Yes, I think so. What sort
of distraction were you thinking of?”

Sita’s eyes were filled with mischief. “There are a
fair number of young people on this plane who absolutely adore Cicely. A fair
number of older ones, too. Enough to cause a small riot – if they thought
she was being treated unfairly.”
 

“Won’t it just draw more attention to me?” I asked.