Authors: Angie West
I held my head up high and stared down the bathtub.
“
No matter…I will simply take a shower.
”
So I couldn
’
t stand to take a bath.
I would get over it
, eventually
and on my own time, I reassured myself as I stowed my bag in the closet and put on a fresh gown.
My hour was almost up
,
but I took the time to blow dry my hair and brush it out.
I couldn
’
t help but wonder if Mark had chosen to take a bath or a shower, like me.
I plunked the brush down onto the dresser and told myself that it did not matter.
But there was no denying the fact that he was attractive.
And brave, I added with a sigh of relief.
He was very brave.
He was also off limits.
He was Bob
’
s only son and my
‘
cousin
.
’
The makings of a hot love affair it was not.
Not to mention that we were literally from different worlds.
And I had a job to do.
I would be leaving before I knew it, and…
.
“
And why am I even thinking about this?
”
I asked myself.
It must have had something to do with me almost dying and him saving my life.
I shook my head and took the stairs two at a time to the dining room.
Marta waited until we were all seated before she began dishing out roasted chicken breast, salad, and dinner rolls.
I sipped on the ice water she placed in front of me and thanked her.
She rolled her eyes and sat down to her own plate.
“
I heard you went and almost got yourself killed, girl.
”
“
Yes, Marta, I did.
”
“
Hmmm
,
”
s
he grunted.
“
It was a good thing Mark found me.
He was walking along the beach and he jumped in after me.
”
“
It was nothing, really.
”
Mark shrugged and tore his dinner
roll
in half.
“
Nothing?
Why you saved our Annabelle!
It
’
s a night for celebration, that
’
s what it is!
My Annabelle is safe, and my son has come home at last!
”
“
Maybe home to stay
,
”
Mark added.
“
To stay!
Did you
hear
that Marta?
Our boy might be here to stay.
”
He winked.
“
Of course I heard him.
I
’
m not deaf.
”
“
That
’
s great news
,
”
I announced to my dinner plate.
“
Yes, but tell me
,
what are your plans
,
Annabelle?
”
Mark asked.
“
I
...
well, I am not sure yet
,
”
I admitted.
That
much
was true.
“
Nonsense, she
’
s going to stay right here at home where she belongs.
”
“
She
’
s not a prisoner
,
Dad
,
”
Mark admonished.
“
I didn
’
t say that she was.
But
,
it
’
s time for the girl to relax a little.
Shop, go dancing, get a hobby.
And then, maybe meet a nice man and put her roots down
,
”
he
decided.
My fork clattered to my plate.
I retrieved it quickly and shoved a hunk of chicken into my mouth so that I would not have to reply to that sentiment.
“
Yes, but you do realize that she might not want to stay?
”
“
That
’
s nonsense.
”
“
Right…what was I thinking?
”
Mark shook his head and turned to me.
“
So, where have you been hiding all these years Anna?
Do you mind if I call you Anna?
”
“
Anna is fine.
”
I nodded.
“
Well, it
’
s such a boring story.
It
’
s tedious really; I
’
ve just been here and there.
”
“
Oh, but I would love to hear about it.
”
“
Maybe Uncle Bob could tell the story?
”
“
You want me to tell it?
”
“
My throat is parched
,
”
I explained.
I coughed and took another sip of water to prove it.
I kept my head down as Bob told my sordid tale of young love gone bad and gypsies.
I glanced up to find Mark regarding me with humor in his eyes
,
and I could tell that he was doing his best not to smile.
“
Then those guards captured her and hit her
on
the head.
She looked just awful, didn
’
t she Marta?
”
“
Awful
,
”
Marta confirmed.
“
She helped a girl escape, isn
’
t that right Annabelle?
”
“
Yes, that
’
s right.
”
Uncle Bob threw an arm around my shoulders in a quick hug.
“
This is one brave girl we have here.
”
“
Yes,
”
Mark agreed.
“
Brave is a word that suits her.
”
“
So, what did you study in school, Mark?
”
I asked quickly, wanting to change the subject.
“
Architectural design.
”
“
So you
’
re an architect?
You design buildings?
”
“
Yes.
”
“
We
’
re so proud of you
,
son.
”
Bob leaned over and threw his arms around Mark.
He squeezed and we nearly fell out of our chairs.
“
Thanks
,
Dad.
”
“
You know, it
’
s about time you started thinking about putting down some roots of your own.
”
Mark looked me up and down for a moment before he finally sat back and nodded.
“
Maybe it is.
”
I ducked my head.
I couldn
’
t believe my own ears.
I was his cousin!
At least, he thought so.
Of all the
—
“
Well,
”
Bob laughed awkwardly.
“
That was a wonderful meal, Marta.
I think I will go to the solarium for a brandy and a cigar.
Son, why don
’
t you join me?
”
“
I think I
’
ll go sit in the library for a bit.
”
I scooted my chair back and made a hasty exit.
I felt Mark
'
s eyes on me the entire time.
***
The library was actually more of a study.
Built in pine shelves lined the walls and held a multitude of volumes.
The room also held an antique looking oak desk and matching chair, two chaise lounges, and four padded high back chairs.
I chose a piece of
stationery
and a pen from the desk and set them on the end table next to the chaise lounge while I searched for the books I needed.
The next logical step would be to locate the meadow.
It wouldn
’
t hurt to learn a little more about Kahn, too
, I thought.
Rule number one.
Know your enemy
; although
, in this case, I had to admit that I was terribly outmatched by my opponent.
No matter, I reassured myself.
I had to try either way.
I selected two world history books and a map and curled up in the chaise to read.
I lost track of time and was surprised when Marta knocked on the door with a mug of coffee and a plateful of oatmeal cookies.
“
Doing a little light reading?
”
“
Something like that.
”
I bit into
a
soft chewy cookie.
“
Thanks.
”
She nodded and lingered in the doorway.
“
Is something wrong?
”
I set the book down.
“
Are you feeling ok
ay
?
”
“
Fine.
”
I assured her.
I must not have looked convincing, because she lingered a moment longer before finally shutting the door.
I downed half of the coffee in a one large gulp and turned my attention back to the volume I had been reading.
I skimmed through the last six chapters and set it aside.
It made for interesting reading, but unfortunately it mentioned very little about Kahn
, and
what it did mention was nothing that I did not already know.
The second book was not much better.
There were plenty of horror stories and accounts of the war, but from what I could tell, very little of it was helpful to me.
Or was it?
I perked up when I came to the chapter about the revolution years.
The revolutions had lasted for twenty
-
five years before the Matrons had intervened and created the protected zones.
But before that, during the revolutions, speculation was rampant about the formidable shadow man.
I read with rapt attention the second hand accounts of those who had tried to take him out of power.
Every attempt seemed to end in a miserable failure
—
except one.
I double checked the date and flipped a few pages back.
One month before the Matrons intervened.
This particular account told of a band of foreign trave
l
lers who called themselves Racanes.
There were four of them and they were very unusual in both speech and dress.
Some believed them to be insane.
One touted himself as a holy man.
They stayed for one year and took an active role in the revolution during that time.
They proposed that the talisman of the portal was the key to Kahn
’
s downfall.
One was killed in battle and the remaining three disappeared.
I set the book down very carefully and picked up the
stationery
and pen.
I was still lost in my private thoughts and making notes when Mark came into the room.
“
I thought you would be asleep by now
,
”
he
said quietly.
“
No.
What time is it?
”
“
It
’
s after eleven.
”
“
At night?
”
He looked at me as though I had grown two heads.
“
Yes, at night.
”