Thrall (22 page)

“Let’s get started.” Hale said. “Try out a few punches, Braedyn. We need to get you used to fighting with an opponent.” Hale stepped back to watch.

Gretchen moved into the center of the room and faced me. Everything I’d learned over the last month evaporated out of my head. I took a half-hearted swing. Gretchen blocked the punch effortlessly and frowned, glancing at Hale.

“Again, Braedyn,” Hale said. “Go ahead and commit. She won’t let you hurt her, trust me.” I swung, putting some muscle into it. Gretchen swept the punch aside, catching my fist and pulling me off balance. I saw her other fist clench, but she forced it open, her eyes cutting to Hale. If he weren’t here, I realized dully, she wouldn’t be holding back.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I said. Gretchen faced me. Her expression was hidden from Hale; he didn’t see the hostility burning in the depths of her eyes.

“It takes practice,” Hale said. “You’ll get it.”

I swung for Gretchen again, harder. She dodged the punch. My momentum carried me forward. Gretchen barely moved, but her elbow caught me in the stomach. I let out a whooshing breath, startled.

“Good,” Hale said. He walked up to us, excited.

Gretchen calmly helped me right myself, then stepped back. She waited while Hale adjusted my stance and gave me some pointers. I barely heard him. My eyes kept darting back to her face. She wore a small smile. This wasn’t sparring practice for her; she wanted to hurt me. I balled my hands into fists as a spark of anger kindled inside me.

“Let me know if you see something I’m missing,” Hale said to Gretchen, moving back to watch us.

“Sure thing, boss,” Gretchen said, amused.

I launched a fist at Gretchen’s half-turned head. She blocked it, but the force rocked her back on her heels. All amusement bled right out of her face. She brought her arms up in a loose stance. Something told me I wasn’t going to catch her by surprise a second time.

“Better,” Hale said, moving in to adjust my stance again. “Keep your weight on your front foot and watch the angle of your fist.” Couldn’t he see the hatred in Gretchen’s eyes? “Try that one again.”

I attacked with another sharp jab. Gretchen blocked, and struck back. I saw her fist coming but couldn’t move fast enough to block her. She pulled her punch at the last second, half an inch from my throat. I gasped and stumbled back.

Her smile was icy. “Don’t worry,” she murmured, too low for Hale to hear. “If I try to kill you, it won’t be right under Hale’s nose.”

I stopped worrying about whether or not I could do this. It wasn’t a question of ‘could’ any more. The next time someone tried that on me, I’d be ready. It was a long and grueling practice. When I finally peeled off my sparring gloves, Hale clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“Nice work. See you at dinner.”

“Dinner?” I asked. My heart skipped a beat.

Hale glanced at Gretchen out of the corner of his eye. “We need to work on unit cohesion,” he said lightly. “We’ll be eating dinner together every night.” Gretchen glanced at Hale with unhappy surprise, then dropped her gloves in a bin and left.

I went home to shower and change. I picked out one of my favorite non-uniform shirts, a funky long-sleeved t-shirt Royal had picked up for me at local indie rock festival. I brushed my hair out and put a touch of lip-gloss on, then inspected myself in the mirror. My eyes were shining with eager happiness. A whole meal with Lucas. It was an unexpected gift.

Dad and I returned to the Guard’s house as everyone was sitting down to eat. Their round dining room table was worn, but large enough to seat us all comfortably. Gretchen and Thane had taken the chairs on either side of Lucas. I managed my disappointment and took the seat across from Lucas. He shot me a small, warm smile. Hale took the seat to my right and Dad took the last chair between Gretchen and me.

“I have some good news,” Hale said. Everyone turned toward him expectantly. “I just got a call from Marx. He’s made contact with a unit of twelve Guardsmen in South America. They’ve picked up the trail of an Ancient Lilitu. They think she’s holing up in Ciudad Bolívar, along the Orinoco River. If it’s Ais, we’ve got a real shot at finding her in time.”

“That’s great news,” Dad said. His smile full of relief. I could tell he hoped this meant I wouldn’t have to rush developing my Lilitu powers.

Lucas and I stole a glance at each other. When our eyes met, I felt a little charge of energy and my heart seemed to skip a beat. Maybe I’d get to play at being a normal girl for a little while longer.

“It’s just a rumor,” Thane said quietly. “I suggest we refrain from packing until we’ve got proof.” His eyes cut to me. “In the meantime, we all need to hone our skills. We don’t want to be unprepared when the time comes to act.”

Thane knocked on our front door later that night. I followed Thane and Dad into the living room. Dad sat beside me on the couch, crossing his arms and watching Thane with a frosty glare. Thane ignored him, sitting on the edge of the coffee table and turning his attention to me.

“You failed to escape your dream last night,” Thane started.

“This is how you want to begin?” Dad asked. “By chastising her?”

“I’m merely trying to demonstrate why she needs my help.”

“She’s sitting here, isn’t she?” Dad growled. “You want to help? Give her some useful advice.”

Thane pursed his lips. “Very well.” He turned back to me, scowling. “Were you at least able to manage a lucid dream?”

“Yes,” I murmured.

“Thane,” Dad said, leaning forward. “If you can’t speak to her politely, this lesson is over.”

Thane’s eyes tightened. He cleared his throat. “What did you do?” he asked me. “If you don’t mind my asking?”

Dad sat back, mollified. I took a deep breath, and told him about the dirt, how I’d tried to dig down for the water like Karayan had done.

Thane stiffened. “Are you telling me,” he said quietly. “That you actually witnessed another Lilitu accessing the larger dream world and you still can’t do it?”

Shame washed over me. Before I could stammer out a response, Dad was on his feet.

“That’s it. Lesson’s over,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” Thane said, standing. “I can’t help her until she finds a way out of her own dream. I trust you’ll let me know if she ever succeeds.”

“I tried,” I said.

Thane turned to me. “Try harder. We’re running out of time.”

My life settled into a strange new normal. Every afternoon, I found Gretchen waiting for me with Hale in the basement. As my ribs healed, our practices got more intense. Fighting with Gretchen was a lot harder than punching and kicking a bag. We didn’t become friends. We didn’t even grow to like one another. But we did get used to fighting together. Sparring was supposed to be an opportunity for me to practice in a controlled fight. It felt more like an opportunity for Gretchen to work out her aggression on me. I wore padding, but it wasn’t exactly body armor. Every once in a while I landed a hit through Gretchen’s defenses. I didn’t tag her often, but when I did, I savored the feeling.

After each day’s practice, I’d shower and head back to the Guard’s house for dinner. Dad added himself to the kitchen roster. He was by far the best cook of the group, having had the luxury of time to learn once he’d stepped out of the Guard to raise me. Lucas and I struggled to avoid each other’s gaze at the dinner table. But as difficult as dinners were for Lucas and me, they were the one time everyone else seemed to relax. I’d catch Gretchen laughing, and her whole face would transform. Her blue eyes would sparkle, and I felt like I could see the woman she must have been a few short years ago, before Eric’s death. Before she’d joined the Guard. She was vibrant and engaging, with a sharp sense of humor. I bet she used to be a lot of fun.

Hale, usually fresh from a shower himself, kicked back and let the rest of us do most of the talking. He spent the meal listening, interested in everything and everyone. He had this way of looking at whoever was speaking as if he had all the time in the world, as if the only thing that mattered to him was what they had to say. When he did speak, it was to offer insight or encouragement. I started to understand why Dad and Thane accorded him so much respect, even though he was younger than they were; he wasn’t just a boss, he was a leader.

Eventually, Dad got coaxed into telling tales about the old days, when he was one of the legendary group that tracked ancient Lilitu across the world. Lucas hung on his words, almost star-struck. Whenever someone grew silent, weighed down by the fear and uncertainty of what we might be facing, one of the others would draw them back into the conversation and their troubled expressions would ease. These people really were a family for one another.

But once or twice a night, I’d catch Gretchen or Thane eyeing me. The message was clear; I was tolerated, but I wasn’t one of them.

Each night after dinner I would go home, my stomach in knots, to try again. Thane’s words taunted me, but as frustrated, angry, or desperate as I got, I couldn’t find a way out of my field of roses. I’d imagine shovels and spend all night digging. I’d dream up hoses and create my own puddles of water, but I could never figure out how to fill them with the stars that signified the dreaming minds of humankind. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t break through to the larger world of the dream.

I awoke every morning feeling useless. And that became part of my new normal, too.

On Friday night, the week before Thanksgiving, I returned to the Guard’s house for dinner after cleaning up. Dad had been cooking since early afternoon, and the savory aroma of green chile stew was making my mouth water. Gretchen, Lucas, and I set the table. Dad emerged with a steaming pot of stew and set it on the center of the table.

“Where’s Hale?” Lucas asked.

“Still on the phone,” Gretchen answered.

“And Thane?” Dad said. Gretchen shrugged and ladled herself a bowl of stew. “More stew for the rest of us, then,” Dad said. But I could see the creases at the edges of his eyes deepen. Something was troubling him.

Lucas passed me a bowl and our hands brushed. I risked a quick glance at him, then noticed Gretchen watching and dropped my eyes.

“I have some news,” Hale said, entering. Everyone turned to him and I let out a small sigh of relief. He glanced around the table. “Where’s Thane?”

“Out,” Dad said. “What’s going on?”

“I just got off the phone with the Guard in South America. Their archivist is saying she’s certain that the Ancient Lilitu they’ve been tracking is Ais.”

Dad glanced at me, hope lighting his eyes.

“Have they seen her?” Gretchen asked.

“They’ve closed in on her several times, always just missing her,” Hale said. “But the trails they found suggest she’s travelling in and around Venezuela.”

We all heard the front door open and close. A moment later, Thane entered the dining room, shrugging out of his jacket. He pulled in a draft of icy wind with him; it was cold enough to make me shiver.

“Read.” Thane’s face was pale, drawn. He slapped a newspaper down in front of Hale. The front-page story was about some local missing men. Hale read the story in silence.