The Legend (5 page)

“You need to train your primary weapon before you move on to others,” Kwan's voice emanates from the darkness near the door. I can just make him out, a tall shadow breaking apart from the others and advancing towards me. “Your body,” he explains when he gets nearer, “your body is your primary weapon. Focus on that. The rest will come.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“Training,” he replies simply. “Tomorrow I want you on the track field at 6.30.”

I return the Hanbo to the corner and run my hand longingly down the Bo staff.

“It will come back to you, Rebecca.” Kwan is right beside me. “Give it time.”

“I don't have time! Kenneth Williams wants our community gone, he won't stop until he destroys us all and eliminates the opposition.”

“He won't find us here any time soon,” he reassures me. “But I don't believe that is the real reason you are in such a hurry.”

“I want him gone.”

“Because of what he did to you?”

“Yes!”

“Revenge is no way to win a war.”

“I'm not in the mood for your ancient philosophies right now, old friend.” I turn back to the Bo staff.

“You are in a dark place, Rebecca. I can see it. I hear you told Jethro you intend to kill his brother.”

“His brother almost killed me. It's nothing less than he deserves.”

“That may be true,” he concedes, “but did you consider the fact that Jethro may need some time to come to terms with it?”

“You're saying I should have softened the blow? Been more sensitive to his feelings?”

“Yes.”

“You're not listening to me. I don't have time to tiptoe around everybody's feelings.”

“That includes Reed and Aidan, I'm guessing.”

“I don't want to talk about them.”

“Of course you don't. But tell me, Rebecca, how do you propose to win this war without Reed?”

“Reed will fight. He believes in the cause.”

“He believes in
you
,” he corrects. “As we all do. Without you, the Legion would fall apart. How can you expect them to follow you when they don't even like you?”

“Who's being insensitive now?” I raise my eyebrows.

“You need to let go of your fear, only then will you make peace with what has happened. There is a darkness in you, Rebecca. It will fester and grow and, if you allow it to, it will consume you. Stop holding on to it or it will destroy everything you have worked for.”

“I'm not afraid. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Tomorrow,” he sighs. “At 6.30.”

 

 

chapter 6

T
he following morning I am waiting on the outdoor track field when Kwan arrives. Michael is with him.

“Hi, Rebecca!” Michael calls, cheerful as ever. He is completely impervious to my grey mood.

“Hey,” I raise my brows in question at Kwan.

“Michael trains track,” he replies nonchalantly. “And I'm needed in the dojo. You're in good hands.”

“So, shall we get to it?” Michael rubs his hands together to ward off the cold.

Twenty minutes later I want to scream with frustration. Michael is running circles around me, all the while keeping up a running commentary of encouragement. I am slow, far too slow. I could probably still outrun Jenna, and my natural fitness is resurfacing, but my abilities are nowhere to be seen. Michael has always challenged me, determined to best me in a race, but even he seems disappointed by the lack of competition.

“So, you really took a knock, huh?” He runs his hands through his tousled blond hair and gives me the kind of look you reserve for someone's deathbed. I scowl, and he quickly rearranges his features into a carefree, goofy grin. “It'll come back, of course. I bet I'll be eating your dust in no time. And you did really well, considering,” he adds graciously.

I avert my eyes from the sympathy of his kind gaze, and a movement on the other side of the track catches my attention. I shield my eyes and discern five grubby looking men crouched on the stands, watching us intently.

“Who are they?” I ask, and Michael swings around to look.

“The Lakeside Five,” he answers. “They were here when we arrived, put up a bit of a fuss when they realised we were staying. Adam and Kwan usually deal with them.”

“I can't see that they would pose much of a threat.”

“They were armed when we arrived. I doubt they have much ammo – they were probably hoping to intimidate us into leaving.”

“What happened?”

“Kwan took their guns off them before they even knew what was happening. He gave them back though, shortly afterwards. Once they had seen what the Legion was capable of they backed off, but they stick to themselves. You'd think they would be grateful, considering how much food the town is supplying us now. Adam's been explaining things to them – he seems to think he's making progress, but I don't see it.”

I stare up at the five men thoughtfully. As far as I can tell they are unarmed. “Do they still carry their guns?”

“Nah. I think they keep them down in the marksmanship centre.”

“I'd better go. I'll see you later, Michael.” I jog back towards the dining hall, my muscles aching in protest. My father is engaged in conversation near the east wall, but I head straight for the serving centre. I am ravenous but as I reach for a plate I spot Jenna and Chase sitting a few tables away with their heads together. Dropping my plate with a loud clatter, I march over to my father. Surprisingly, he looks weary as he notices my approach.

“I want him out of here,” I point across at Chase.

“Forget your manners, Tiny?” I turn to find Reed glaring at me, his eyes bright with annoyance. “We were in the middle of a conversation,” he continues, gesturing between my father and himself.

“What? Oh, right, sorry. I want Chase locked up again.”

“Bex,” my father sighs placatingly.

“No,” Reed cuts across him, shaking his shaggy blond head. “That's quite enough, Jeffrey. Stop indulging her.”

“Excuse me,” I sneer, my lip curling. “Stay out of this, Reed. I was speaking to my father.”

“Correction,” he drawls. “
I
was speaking to your father until you so rudely interrupted. No,” he snaps, as my dad starts to step between us, trying to defuse the situation, “stop protecting her. You,” he points his finger in my face, so close that I take a step back, “you stop behaving like some goddamned prima donna. You've been awake, what, not even forty-eight hours and you've managed to piss off every person who has ever helped you. Stop behaving like a brat, Rebecca, and grow up.”

I open my mouth to lash out at him, to retaliate, but he turns his back on me and states in a loud voice, “Now, Jeffrey, where were we?”

Red-faced and humiliated, I become acutely aware that every eye in the room is fixed on us. Vowing that I will have it out with Reed later, that this conversation is not over, I beat a hasty retreat. It is only when I am back out in the open air that I realise I have nowhere to go. Without thinking, I smash my fist into the brick wall beside me. There is a sickening crunch as three of my knuckles break, and I give a howl of anguish.

“Mom?” I turn to see Alex watching me apprehensively.

“That was a silly thing to do,” another youthful voice pipes up and I catch sight of Brooke standing right behind my son, her green eyes narrowed reprovingly.

“It was,” I agree, mortified. I bend down and ruffle Alex's hair, grinning at Brooke over his shoulder. Brooke was in a very bad way when we found her; her mother had died and she had collapsed on the street, no match for the coyote that had attacked her. Henry had not rated her chances of survival very highly but, astonishingly, she had pulled through and made a full recovery. We discovered that Brooke possessed the ability to heal. What we don't know, is the why or the how – my father had performed extensive tests and concluded that Brooke had never been Gifted through any procedure. He theorised she may have inherited her ability, but this didn't make any sense. As far as we know, no other child, with the exception of Alex, has ever inherited their parent's abilities, but when I pointed this out my father had simply maintained that evolution could not be explained. Idly, I wonder if my dad is mistaken, and if Brooke's mother may have known the elusive Jupiter. A clever and confident little girl, she and Alex have become firm friends, the fact that they are the only two Gifted children in our community making them ideal playmates.

“What are you two up to?” I ask. “No school today?”

“Mom, it's Saturday!” Alex rolls his eyes at me.

“Indeed it is,” I grin. “So, what would you like to do?” Anything to distract him from what he has just witnessed.

“Play ball?”

“You got it.”

Galloping around the field, I forget for a moment the difficulties I am facing. Like a breath of fresh air, the two children revitalise me. Thankful that I don't need to use my hands to play, I am relieved when the familiar tingling starts in my fingers. My healing, at least, is working. But even without my abilities, I am still a hero to the children, and Alex whoops with glee as he scores yet another goal. He and Brooke high-five each other and then get back into position. I am so caught up in the moment that I don't notice when Aidan strolls onto the field, until he scoops Alex up from behind. Alex goes into peals of laughter and kicks his legs vigorously, trying to escape his father's clutches.

“Be on my team, Dad?” he hollers when his feet finally touch the ground.

Aidan nods. “The girls don't stand a chance, champ,” he grins mischievously.

“We'll see about that,” I retort, calling Brooke over to my side.

I can't help but laugh as our competition intensifies. Unlike this morning with Michael, it doesn't matter now if I win or lose. Alex's delight is infectious and Aidan is relaxed and happy, stealing the ball away from right under my nose and running up towards their goal. I sprint after him, trying unsuccessfully to swipe the ball back, but I trip over my own feet and he grabs my arm as I stumble. Looking up into his warm brown eyes, his words come back to me. This is what my life would be like if I had never been Gifted, if I had chosen a different path. A lifetime of laughter and happy memories, with Aidan always by my side. Playing football with my family without the weight of the world on my shoulders. Frozen in the moment, our eyes locked, neither of us notices when Alex sneaks the ball away and speeds towards his goal.

And then reality asserts itself, and I wrench my arm away from Aidan as though he has burned me.

“Rebecca,” he groans as I pull away, sounding exhausted.

“I think we're tied,” I say, deliberately looking back to where Alex is still dribbling the ball. Brooke, standing beside him with her hands on her hips, looks petulant.

“Don't do this, don't pull away from me,” he pleads, but I ignore him and jog over to give Alex a squeeze and console Brooke over their recent goal.

“We've got them on the run, Brooke,” I grin at her. Her startling green eyes crinkle at the corners as she realises we are still playing.

Later, I swallow my pride and pay the good doctor a visit.

“I still don't understand why my abilities aren't working, Henry.”

“Not working?” he scoffs. “Three days ago you were in a coma, Rebecca. Today you were playing football with your son. I'd say your healing is definitely working.”

“What about my speed, my strength?”

“Give it time.”

I am sick to death of hearing these words, but I thank him and leave his practice room, which was no doubt the old infirmary. As I round the first corner, I come face to face with Sofia heading in the opposite direction.

“Hi,” I greet her, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Before I was injured, when Aidan was suffering from amnesia, he and Sofia were becoming close. I can only assume, from what I heard before I woke up, that their budding relationship ended abruptly when Aidan got his memory back and realised he was still in love with me. Even before that, the dynamics of their relationship had shifted as Aidan's affection for me grew, but Sofia had stuck closer than a barnacle and had refused to consider that Aidan might transfer his attention to me, intact memory or not. The look on her face confirms my suspicions. Sofia looks embarrassed, and a Morgan-like scowl of dislike mars her exotically pretty face.

“Hello, Rebecca,” she replies stiltedly, her English accent a sharp contrast to her dark Mexican looks. Sofia was raised by Henry and as a result picked up his pronounced intonation. She keeps walking, and I can practically hear her praying that I don't strike up a conversation. Sympathetic to her broken heart and wounded pride, I simply nod and continue on my way.

If Sofia's love life is deteriorating, her father Henry's is just the opposite. I learn that he and Archer's mother Sienna are planning on getting married. Here in the Rebeldom there is no legal way to get married or divorced, but the two are planning a small ceremony anyway. I knew that they were getting close, but I am still surprised.

“The older you get, the more you realise that time is precious,” my dad explains as I watch Archer and Sofia helping them set up a makeshift wedding arch on the grass of the family park pavilion. “You shouldn't waste a minute of it. If you find love, you have to grab hold of it with both hands and never let it go. When I met your mother, I just knew that she was the one for me. We didn't wait long either.”

“You want to get to your point?” I ask, knowing that there is far more to his words than a simple conversation.

“I don't want you to have any regrets. I know your mother didn't.” If he thinks that bringing up my mother is going to sway me from my mission, he is wrong.

“My mother didn't have a war to win,” I remind him bluntly.

The day of the ceremony dawns and if the weather is any indication, the gods are smiling down on the soon-to-be newly-weds. There is not a cloud in the sky and no breeze rustles the leaves. Everyone in the Academy is attending, much to my chagrin, because it means I have no excuse not to go. Without Jenna to help me with my outfit, I settle on a pair of black pants and a pretty grey chiffon blouse with a beaded sash that ties around the neck to hold it up. It is the first time I have ever worn it, and I feel ridiculous. To my amazement, three hundred of the wooden dining hall chairs have been ferried all the way out here and lined up in perfect rows on the grass. I am late, and most seats are already occupied but my dad waves his arm, indicating an empty chair beside him a few rows from the front. It is only when I take my seat between him and Alex that I notice that Reed is on his other side, and Aidan is next to Alex, with Brooke sitting on his lap so she can see over the heads of those in front of us.

“Good thing this isn't awkward,” I mumble, folding my hands in my lap and keeping my eyes on the wedding arch which has been transformed into a thing of beauty by the intricate weaving of flowers. No doubt Sienna's work. Henry has rustled up an old suit, which has been lovingly pressed, and the smile creasing his old face makes him look years younger. Archer stands proudly beside him as the best man. Sienna, tall and regal in a simple cream dress, coaxes a collective sigh from the guests as she sweeps up the aisle, walking slightly too fast for the shorter Sofia who is tripping along behind her. As usual, Sofia looks astonishingly pretty with her dark hair swept off her face in a low bun, from which loose tendrils are already escaping. She manages to smile at Aidan while simultaneously scowling at me as she passes our row.

The service itself is short and sweet, and I join the throng making their way to the dining hall for lunch-cum-reception.

“Did you have a wedding, Mom?” Alex asks, linking arms with me. He is holding Aidan's hand on his other side and over his head I meet Aidan's gaze.

“Yes,” I answer, smiling down at him and a look of disgust crosses over Aidan's face. Aidan and I never got married, not legally. But I did marry Eric Dane in a lavish ceremony fit for the First Family. What I don't add is that I would have traded that extravagant affair for the simple, sincere ceremony I had just witnessed, in a heartbeat.