Resistance (37 page)

Eir shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He’s
pale, even lighter in color than usual, and I keep an eye on him
for a minute; worried reality will settle in and he’ll pass out. He
leans forward, sets his coffee back on the table and puts his head
in his hands, and I almost have to sit on my hands so I don’t touch
him. “I’m so sorry,” I say quietly, meeting Fi’s eyes.

Fi doesn’t say anything for a moment; just stares off
into a dark headspace no one should have to be sucked into. She
pulls in a deep breath and Flint presses a kiss to her ear in a
comforting manner. “It’s not your fault, Lu,” Fi says firmly, but
her eyes shimmer with tears.

I don’t respond. I may not have caused bodily harm to
their mother or father personally, but it was my family who took
them. It was my family who separated them, and who possibly killed
her mother and had her father locked away in a windowless cell I
knew all too well. I look down into my coffee when Fi looks at
Flint for sanity. I don’t want to intrude on their private
moment.

The silence gets Eir’s attention and he picks up his
head; looking at his sister before turning his head to meet my
eyes. “Can you tell us anything about where he’s being held?” he
asks, his voice soft and quiet.

I let out a relieved breath for the break in silence
and nod my head yes. I have no good news to share with them, and
I’m sure the truth will leave nothing but more discomfort to settle
over us in a thick cloud, but what else can I tell them? “He’s on
the lowest level, beneath even the basement,” I say, refusing to
use my brother’s term for it — The Dungeon. “No windows, and the
guards rarely go check on people down there.”

Trying to picture it is a bad idea. I’ve been down
there a lot, and I hate to admit, most of the time not by my own
choice. There were never many others down there. Most prisoners
were kept in the basement and not subjected to the isolation and
cold temperatures. The two human girls who shared a cell closer to
the stairway when I was down there had shrunk to just one by the
time Patrick arrived. There was also a little old man who always
prayed every night, but he wasn’t muttering anymore when the other
man arrived, and I had to worry that something happened to cause
that.

Mentally looking around, I take in the familiar scene
and describe it aloud; telling myself I am sitting on an old couch
with three people who aren’t going to hurt me or lock me away in a
cell, never to be seen again. Even thinking about that pit gives me
horrible anxiety. “There’s only one way in and one way out, and
it’s nearly impossible to get in there without alerting a guard,
let alone get back out with a high priority captive in tow.”

The muscles in Fi’s neck flex in tension and I see
her struggling to take in a breath. Eirnin still looks mildly
doubtful of the topic of discussion, but he plays along anyway and
asks, “So us trying to get him out would be a suicide mission,
then?”

I nod at him. “Yes. I snuck down there a lot to visit
him, but now I don’t know if I could walk back out without someone
getting hurt.”

Fi’s eyes lock on her brother and she sniffles;
pulling in a huge breath and letting it out in one quickly uttered
statement. “I don’t know how, Eir, but we’ll figure something out
somehow. I don’t know when, but…” She swallows and opens her mouth
to continue, but can’t get any more words past her lips. Flint
removes his hand from hers and wraps it around her shoulders to
pull her against his side and she rests her head on his shoulder,
her long dark hair concealing her face from view. Flint whispers in
her ear, gently reminding her to breathe and that everything is
going to be okay. Fi nods jerkily a couple times, but otherwise
makes no moves or sound.

Eir drops his head back in his hands, and this time I
don’t restrain myself. I extend an arm and knead my fingertips
against his spine and feel the tension in his back ebb, if only a
little. “There has to be some way we can get in there,” I say
slowly, almost too quiet to be heard through the stress-filled
air.

He lifts his head about an inch away from his hands
and looks over at me. Those ocean blue eyes seem to go straight
into me, and I feel my mouth go dry. He studies my face for a
moment, even though I get the feeling he already knows more than he
should, and slowly reaches his hand out to take mine. It
practically vanishes and I once again internally groan over my
minute size. “We’ll talk to Seamus,” he says, “and see if he has
any ideas.”

I nod to him and Fi pulls in a ragged breath,
straightening just enough to look back at us. Her face is dry but
her eyes are rimmed red from holding in tears over this
information. I’m idly calling myself selfish for wondering what
it’s like to have a father worth giving a damn about when Fi asks,
“Lu, do you know anything about where they caught him?”

Her tone implies slight disbelief and shock that her
father could ever be captured. After chatting with him a few times
I agree with her. He was certainly not a stupid man, and the way he
was brought in would suggest pure ignorance. “Officially, I have no
idea,” I tell her. “I have no solid evidence.”

Fi’s head tilts to the side at the slightly dry
answer, and Flint asks from behind her hair, “But?”

I bite my tongue for a moment and wonder if I should
really say. It’s quite an implication, and like I just told them, I
have nothing solid to support it. But I’ve opened the can of worms
now, haven’t I? Eir gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as if he
senses my insecurity and I slowly let out a breath. “Off the
record…I think he was set up. He pretty much walked right into
their hands.”

All the color drains from Fi’s face and her grip on
Flint’s hand increases so much his eyes widen in surprise. I see
her trembling from where I sit, and as Flint hooks his arm tighter
around her waist, she utters a small, “Oh, no.”

“Fi,” Eir says firmly; putting his ice blue stare to
her forest green eyes. “Don’t do this to yourself. It was not your
fault.”

Something cold grips at my chest and I immediately
want to suck the words back inside my mouth. I would never in a
million years imply Fi had anything to do with her parents’ capture
or death. “I-I didn’t mean…” I begin, but Flint shakes his head at
me, silently telling me there is another reason for the guilt and
misery in her eyes.

Fi shakes her head and sinks down into Flint’s chest;
her shaking hands moving to fist in her hair. Flint bends at the
waist and her eyes shoot toward him. He murmurs something I can’t
quite make out and she nods her head jerkily, seeming to relax
slightly when he starts massaging her knee. Her eyes are shining
with tears when she clamps them shut, and Eir slowly looks at me
and asks, “Do you remember when they brought him in?”

I look at him and see his eyes are pleading, and
immediately I know he is trying to give Fi the illusion of privacy.
We must have the same loathing for crying in public. “Um…” I say,
elongating the sound to stall, “August of last year.”

Eir offers me a small, almost saddened smile. “Okay,”
he says. “I, uh, I just wondered.”

I see Fi’s eyes shooting back and forth like she’s
reading something; her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she
thinks very deeply about something. I hear her mutter, “August,
September, October,” while her fingers tap against her head, and
then her eyes snap up and she blurts, “They were feeding him, right
Lu?”

All the blood rushes out of my head and I faintly
feel Eir’s hand touch my shoulder so I don’t fall right off the
couch. “No,” I murmur. “I was feeding him.”

On more than one occasion I slipped into the kitchen
and took whatever my older brother or sister was bossing the chef
into making for their lazy asses, and brought it down to his cell.
I had him hoarding bottles of water so if I couldn’t make it down
there every day he wouldn’t parch, and every time he told me not to
do it again, that he didn’t want me getting in trouble on his
behalf. I never listened, and he never denied a meal, and the
reason for that is because no one else was offering him
anything.

Fi turns a light shade of green and bends to put her
head between her knees, and Flint immediately starts rubbing
circles on her back as he tries to shield his own distress from
view. For once, Eir’s expression matches hers, and he covers his
mouth with his hand as I blurt, “B-But he seems important to my
father, so they won’t let him starve down there. I’m sure they’ll
take care of him.” I am grasping at straws and everyone in the room
knows it, but what else can I say?

Eir makes a kind of choked-off sound, but he still
tries to reassure his sister. “If they’ve kept him alive for this
long, they must have a reason. They’ll feed him, Fi.” But the doubt
in his voice hangs in the air, and Fi can’t even force a nod.

Flint has both his hands on Fi. His fingers are
working against her spine and shoulders in an attempt to ease some
of the tension building inside her. “Lu, do you have any idea what
they wanted from him?” he asks, hoping I will have some sort of
good news.

I shake my head at him. “I don’t. Possibly
information of some sort?” I offer. “Though Father will swear up
and down he doesn’t believe in any rebellion, so I don’t have any
idea what he could want.”

Suddenly Fi yanks in a desperate gulp of air, like
she’s been underwater for a full hour and just now came up to
breathe. Her hand comes free of her hair and she reaches out for
Flint, who slips off the couch and kneels down in front of her. She
grips onto his shoulders so hard her knuckles turn white.

“So we have more questions and fewer answers,” Eir
says softly, as Flint’s hands cover Fi’s cheeks. I squeeze his hand
while the Kitsune works to maintain eye contact with his girl.

“I know it’s gruesome, but no one will kill him so
long as they need something from him.” Flint seems to direct the
words to both Dolan children, but he keeps his eyes on Fi’s face at
all times. “We’ll get your dad back.”

Fi nods and slowly lowers her head and closes her
eyes; still gripping Flint’s shoulders as she slowly breathes in
and out, trying her damnedest to calm herself down. Eir pipes up
again. “Fi—Flint is right. We will get Dad back. We’ll figure it
out.”

Fi doesn’t move this time. Flint’s hands rub her
calves and her breathing evens back out. Her eyes are far away and
her cheeks are blotchy and uneven; only some blood returning to her
brain. “Do you need to get out of here?” Flint asks softly, concern
plain in his voice. “Take a walk, get some fresh air?”

“No, no. I’ll be okay,” she insists, her voice a bit
shaky and hoarse. “I just feel a little nauseous.”

“Fi, why don’t you go lay down for a bit?” Eir
suggests; trying to see his sister’s face over the spiky mess Flint
calls hair. “We can’t do anything right now.”

She looks like she’s about to protest and I decide to
throw my two cents in, even though no one asked. “Eir’s right. You
need to relax for a while.” Her eyes shoot from her brother to me,
and then back to Flint, and she doesn’t look happy that we’re all
ganging up on her. She lets out a puff of air and traces her
fingers over Flint’s jaw. “I’ll go lay down if it will make you
guys feel better,” she says, and presses a kiss to Flint’s cheek.
“But I’m taking you with me.”

Eir coughs and I bite my tongue so I don’t giggle.
There is a definite smirk in Flint’s voice when he says, “You won’t
get any argument out of me.” Fi flushes deeply and ducks her head
in embarrassment.

Eir drops his head and pretends to vomit on his
shoes. Flint, completely ignoring him, shifts to his feet and pulls
Fi up with him, keeping her pressed firmly against his chest. “Come
on, love, let’s go lie down for a while,” he says quietly into her
hair, and immediately leads her out of the room. She waves at me
and Eir as he murmurs, “Feel better, Fi,” before she disappears
behind the wall, and a few seconds later we hear a giggle.

“Behave yourselves!” I cry after them, and Eir
snorts. When I look back at him he is smiling broadly at me, and I
straighten up in anxiety. “What?” I ask.

His smile only gets bigger. “What, what?”

I try to narrow my eyes in a playful way, but only
end up smiling back at him. “What are you beaming at?”

“I’m beaming at you, Lulu,” he says matter-of-factly.
“You said what I was thinking.”

Something about that makes my heart stammer a little
in my chest, and my cheeks begin to ache from the strain of my
grin. “Oh yeah?” I say brilliantly. “I read your mind?”

His face is still split and he’s showing off his
almost too-perfect teeth as he nods his head. “Yep — looks that
way,” he teases, and then his eyes travel to the place where his
sister disappeared. “I’m really glad Flint and Fi found each other.
She needs him,” he says almost absentmindedly.

I nod my agreement and follow his gaze to the empty
stairway. “He needs her, too,” I add with a shake of my head. In my
honest opinion, they are the true definition of a perfect couple —
even with the minute of denial. “Oh, they’re just so adorable, I
can’t stand it.”

Eir laughs beside me and my head snaps back around to
look at him. If he keeps getting my attention this way, I’m going
to give myself whiplash. “You’re pretty cute yourself,” he says,
and the words are almost immediately followed by a slightly choked
sound as his cheeks flush with color.

Heat builds up and spreads over my cheeks and neck,
and I’m pretty sure even my ears have taken on the reddened hue.
“You think so?” I blurt stupidly and force myself not to punch
myself in the mouth. Why can’t I just accept a compliment? “Thank
you, Eir.”

He looks surprised by my question and studies me for
a moment before nodding again. “You’re welcome. And yes, I do think
so.” He winks at me and must sense I have to pinch myself so I
don’t giggle like some hormonal school girl, because he clears his
throat and changes the subject. “Thank you for helping me distract
Fi earlier.”