Run To Earth (Power of Four) (7 page)

“Where are we taking these?” Aaron asked.

“To the artillery.” She gave him a look. “The Stove, of course. I’ve got breakfast to prepare.” She led the way past the gate.

“Breakfast?” Aaron glanced down at his basket with at least fifty eggs.

“Yeah, you know that thing you have when you wake up in the morning and fill your stomach with food?” she replied.

“I know what breakfast is,” Aaron defended.

“Good for you.” She winked at him, flashing a toothy smile. “I’m just playing, don’t mind me.”

They’d started walking when Aaron spotted his dad. Drake Logan was by his side and both seemed deep in conversation, brows lined with tension. When they looked up and saw him, though, they smiled, still whispering to each other from the corner of their mouths – no doubt saying they would talk later. Aaron pretended he didn’t notice.

“Hey.” Chris came to stand before him. “Having fun, I see.” He nodded at the basket.

“Hello.” The women greeted him with a smile. “Haven’t had the pleasure yet.” She balanced the basket on her hip and held out a hand. “Mary Collins.”

With a smile, Chris took her hand. “Christopher Adams.”

The smile fell from her face and she stood, shell-shocked, her hand still in Chris’s. Aaron couldn’t help but smile a little at her gob-smacked expression.

“A-Adams?” She looked from Chris to Aaron, before finally staring at Drake.

“It’s really him,” Drake confirmed, slapping a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “The Adams are back.”

Mary came out of her shock and quickly dropped his hand. “Oh, I-I thought...” Her gaze darted to Aaron and she tilted her head to one side. “I’m sorry, I thought the others had put you up to... Oh, never mind. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Aaron didn’t expect her to be so apologetic. It wasn’t a big deal. “No harm done.”

She smiled at him, before her eyes widened at the basket in his hands. “Oh! Drake!” she snapped at the man. “Quick, take the basket from him!”

Drake moved forward a step before Chris held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Aaron doesn’t mind helping, do you, Aaron?”

“No,” Aaron replied.

“But…but it isn’t right,” Mary said, looking rather flustered. A pink tinge started up her neck and seeped into her cheeks.

“No, it is right,” Chris replied. “Treating people differently, that’s what’s not right.” He looked to Aaron. “My son is no different to the other residents of Salvador. Please treat him as such.”

Mary looked between Chris and Aaron, but she gave a little nod. “As you wish.” She turned to Aaron. “Come on, we better get a move on.”

Perplexed, Aaron followed behind her, shooting his father a confused glance, but he only nodded and winked in return.

***

The Stove, as Mary referred to it, turned out to be one of the tall sandstone buildings opposite the cottages. Upon entering, Aaron found himself in a vast room with a high ceiling. The roof caught Aaron’s attention; it was a circular sunroof, which was currently in the process of sliding open. The sunlight lit every corner of the room. Lined along all three walls were worktops of gleaming, rich brown granite. But where ordinary kitchens had cupboards above the worktops, this one had only shelves lined over and underneath the heavy counter tops. Stacked on the shelves were normal cups, plates and glassware, along with giant-sized pots and pans, and possibly every cooking utensil invented.

But the thing that caught Aaron’s attention was the monster appliance in the middle of the room. A stove, but one Aaron had never seen the likes of before. It was a square, metallic beast, wider than most cooking appliances. Fifty burners, all different sizes, were grouped in ten sets of five on the surface. Thick, black metal doors with an ornately carved design were closed over the oven. The stove dominated the room, gleaming in the spotlight cast by the sunroof. Aaron couldn’t help but stare at it.

“Just put the basket there.” Mary pointed at the nearest worktop. “Thank you, Aaron.”

Aaron carefully put the basket down and turned, wiping his hands down his jeans as he glanced around. “This is...some kitchen.”

Mary turned to smile at him. “You impressed?” she asked. “You can tell you’re from the human realm, if
this
impresses you.” She shook her head, chuckling.

Aaron decided not to comment. “What’s next door?” he asked.

“The bakery.” She pointed to her right. “And the cold room.” She pointed to the left.

“Cold room?”

“Yeah, you know, to store items?” She knelt to take a humongous pot from the shelf. It was big enough to bathe a baby in. “There’s a chiller in there, to store ice cream and such.” She turned to Aaron with a grin. “I make the best raspberry ripple ice cream.”

“You must do a lot of cooking,” Aaron remarked, throwing the monster stove another look.

“It’s all I do.” She brought the pan to the stove. “It’s my first love.” She carried the basket over. “I’ve been living in Salvador for,” she paused, eyes turned upwards as she worked through a mental calendar, “twelve years now, and that’s all I’ve ever done. It’s like my life’s mission is to feed everyone.”

“You’ve been here twelve years?” Aaron asked.

Mary’s smile faded. “Yeah, twelve years.” She picked up one of the eggs, holding it in her hands. “I was fifteen when...when
they
came.” Her voice dropped. “My sister was sleeping in the next room. They killed my parents, slaughtered my brother while I slept.” Her face fell, her eyes shadowed. “I woke up when they went into my sister’s room. I heard her screams and ran to her but...but it was too late. They...they had already...” She shook her head, blinking up at Aaron with moist eyes. “When I came here, I was alone. I mean, I felt alone.” She put the egg into the pot. “Neriah always lectured that we are one – a family, bound by our powers and bloodlines.” She picked up the other eggs from the basket and, one by one, placed them gently into the pot. “But at the start, it’s always difficult to think of strangers as your family.” She turned to smile at Aaron. “Now, though, I know what he means. I consider all mages a part of an extended family that I have to take care of by feeding.”

“You cook for everyone?” Aaron asked.

“Yep.” She carried the empty basket over to the worktop, replacing it with the one Aaron had brought.

“Do you...uh...want any help?” Aaron asked warily. He was terrible at cooking, couldn’t make toast without burning it, but he felt bad for her. She was all alone, left to cook for everyone.

“That’s okay.” She sent him another smile. “I have my happy helpers. They’ll be here soon. Although, they aren’t that happy to help.” She shrugged. “But they’ll be here, so don’t you worry.” She gestured to the door. “You go and relax. I’ll have breakfast ready before you know it.”

***

Aaron walked outside to find more people on the street. Several had taken seats at the table, and a few were crowded around the open doors of the cottages. He spotted his mum and dad seated at the table with Drake. As he made his way down the path, Aaron felt rather than saw stares shift focus to him. Men, old and young, stared at him. Women turned to whisper to their neighbours as he walked past. It was by far the most uncomfortable walk Aaron had experienced.

“Where were you?” his mum asked, as he took a seat next to her.

“In the Stove,” Aaron answered.

“Excuse me?” Kate asked, turning to him.

“The kitchen. It’s called the Stove,” Aaron explained.

Kate only nodded before dropping her gaze to the table.

“Mum?” Aaron started, glancing at the people crowded at doorsteps, staring at him.

“Just ignore them,” Kate said, without looking up.

“But why are they staring?”

His mum didn’t answer right away. A small, sardonic smile lifted up the corners of her mouth. “Because we’re the Adams.”

Aaron fell quiet. He looked down the table before turning back to his mum. “Where’s Sam and Rose?”

“Inside,” Kate replied. “They didn’t want to come out.”

The bubble of guilt rose inside Aaron again. He turned, seeking out the cottage that they had stayed in last night. He stared at it for long minutes before eventually looking away.

More people started taking their seats around the table. No one introduced themselves or even bothered to speak to the Adams, but continued their sideways glances and muttering. Aaron sat in silence next to his mum. His dad and Drake continued their quiet conversation, seemingly oblivious to the staring.

A particular group nearby caught Aaron’s eye. Six women, tall and fair, with long blue robes which trailed to the ground. But that wasn’t what grabbed Aaron’s attention. It was the way they were walking: in single file, with a hand resting on the shoulder of the person in front of them. The one at the front was staring, unblinkingly ahead of her, her pale blue eyes gazing into the far distance. When they reached the table, the six stepped out of their single file and felt their chairs with their hands before sitting down.

“Hey y’all!”

Aaron turned to see a boy, not much older than him, standing at the end of the table. On either side were two stacks of plates, almost as tall as the boy. The boy grinned and reached back to tie his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail.

“Watch yer fingers,” he warned.

He pulled back his hand before extending it out fully, as if throwing an imaginary Frisbee. The stacks of plates flew across the table. Aaron pushed himself back as the train of plates whipped by him, going down the length of the table, leaving a single plate in front of every occupied seat. The boy pulled back his other hand and repeated the action, to lay plates on the other side.

“Now it’s time for the cutlery.” The boy grinned.

Aaron pushed himself away from the table.

“Alan!” came a shout. A girl, blond with a round face and pretty blue eyes, ran up. She was holding a large tub in her hands. “What did Mother Mary say?” she berated.

“Mother Mary worries too much,” the boy replied.

“She has a point,” the girl said. “She doesn’t want you stabbing someone with a fork!”

The boy – Alan – only shrugged, but scooped out the cutlery from a large bucket and began handing them out. The girl reached into her tub and brought out a glass tumbler. She set one in front of everyone. When she reached Aaron, she looked up to meet his gaze, pausing slightly. Aaron couldn’t help but stare at her. She looked to be around his age. Her eyes were a bright blue and her hair shone golden in the light. The girl smiled and quickly deposited the glass.

“Ava!” another girl called to her from halfway across the street. “Mother Mary wants you!”

Ava gave Aaron one last smile before turning and hurrying back towards the Stove. Aaron watched her go until she disappeared behind the doors of the kitchen.

“Aaron.”

He jumped a little at the close whisper. He turned to his mum. “Yeah?”

Kate glanced once in the direction of the Stove before looking back at him. “It’s impolite to stare.”

Aaron shrugged. “Not staring,” he argued weakly.

He looked around the street to avoid his mother’s eyes. He craned his head to the side, looking at the long line of cottages, when several blue doors opened at once and out stepped groups of teenagers.

Aaron’s attention went to a particular girl in the crowd. Her thick, dark hair had streaks of electric blue through it, and reached down to the curve of her back. Her long legs looked even more so in her tight jeans. A cropped top bared her midriff, flashing smooth, creamy skin. There was something on one side of her stomach: a large, dark mark that Aaron couldn’t make out from this distance. Next to her was a boy, perhaps a year or two older than Sam, with hair so shockingly blond it looked white. His sleeveless top showcased his muscular arms. A strange spiral symbol was etched onto the tanned skin, just at his right shoulder cap. He was sharp-featured, with eyes so blue Aaron could see them from this distance. The other boys and girls were similar in appearance: the boys tall and muscular, the girls long-legged and stunningly beautiful. They all possessed a strange grace, and appeared strong, powerful and oddly enamouring.

The blond boy with the spiral tattoo caught Aaron’s stare. Their gazes locked and for a moment, both boys just stared at each other. Aaron saw the boy lean back and say something from the corner of his mouth. The girl with the blue streaks turned to stare at Aaron.

It was his cue to look away, but Aaron found himself meeting her stare head on. The group started heading his way.

“Well, well, fresh meat on the stalls today, eh?” the blond boy said, coming to stand behind Aaron.

Kate turned, as did Chris and Drake to face him. In fact, everyone seated around the table was watching the boy, somewhat warily.

“Skyler.” Drake greeted him with a curt nod. “Be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” the boy – Skyler – replied. He looked down at Aaron, flashing a charming smile. “So, Shattered or mage?”

“Mage,” Aaron replied, finding the unfamiliar word stick to the back of his throat.

Skyler nodded. “Figured. You don’t look like a Shattered.” He cocked his head to one side, examining him. “What’s the name?”