The Stolen Child (39 page)

“
There's plenty of bad people that know how to act like they mean you well.”
 

“Just...
T
rust me,”
She said.
 

“Alright.”

They found the professor on the bridge.  After some fussing with the charts he had been examining, he agreed to sit down.  
T
hey made their way down to the mess, the three of them sitting
around the dining table.

Justin was clearly agitated, one foot tapping out a quiet but insistent rhythm against the wooden floor as Rishi settled himself on the bench across from them.

“So.  You'd be Justin,” Rishi said, with a cautiousness that Rachael hadn't entirely expected.

“And you are?  Rachael just calls you 'the professor' or something.”

“She's not the only one,”
he said with a dry smile.
  “My name is Rishi Chandra.  I'm a professor of archaeology, officially.  In practice, my studies stray into the more... Esoteric.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I have learned a great deal about the
mysteries
of our world.  About
the passing of the Ur and the legacy of the first Dreamers
.  About creatures like you,” Rishi said, with a deadly serious look in his eyes.  Rachael found herself wondering if she
had
made a serious mistake.

“Creatures?”
Justin said.
 

“You can't possibly imagine that you are still human, after what you've done to yourself,”
t
he professor
replied
.  
There was no venom in his tone.  He seemed almost genuinely curious
.

“Why not?  I'm better, stronger, more powerful.  What about that makes me anything less than human?”

“I didn't say 'less than'.  But as long as you remain changed, as you are, you will never be entirely human.  It's simply a fact of what you have done to yourself.  Or, perhaps, allowed someone to do,” Rishi said, with a probing look.  Justin seemed suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well, that's beside the point,”
the professor said.
  “
Tell me, when Rachael found the Seed in London... Was that your doing?”
 

“You mean, was it my fault?” Justin said, carefully.

“Did you suggest it?”

“No.  I only
showed her what she could do
.  Rachael's choices are hers to make.  Not yours.”

“But you were sent to London, to find her, yes?” Rishi continued, his tone level, though his eyes were fixed on Justin, unblinking.

“Yes.”

“By whom?”

“By the woman I serve.”

“I see,”
the professor said.  Though he seemed calm, Rachael could see the tension in him.
 

“What is this?  Rachael told me I should talk to you, because she thinks you're on her side.  So why does it feel like I'm being interrogated here?”

“Because protecting Rachael is foremost on my mind... And I have serious concerns about just how much danger you may have put her in.”

Justin's hand slammed the table hard enough to make Rachael's ears hurt.

“I put her in danger?”
h
e exclaimed.  “And what were you doing
when you snatched
her off of a roof-top?  
When you chased
after us with
your ships and your
guns?  And that...
That t
hing that your people unleashed on her?”

“What exactly do you mean?”  Rishi said, his voice eerily calm.

“A hollow man,” Justin said, icily.

Rishi's eyes
narrowed
.

“Really?  They used a hollow man to track her?”

“They?  Like you weren't a part of that.”

“Justin, he wasn't, I told you...” Rachael interjected.

“What, because he says so?  Rachael, he's lying to you.  Did you see any sign that they weren't working together?  Did any of his people actually try to stop those guys back there?  Did they keep me from getting shot?  Or were they shooting at me too?  Did they come to save you when that creature was chasing you?  Did they do anything to protect you at all?  You're a prisoner here, you just don't know it.”

“Ilona rescued me
from Rakesh
.  After you were knocked out on the docks,
s
he was the one who saved me,”
s
he said, coolly.

For a moment Justin stared at her, fuming.  Then he
jumped
up from the table and began pacing the room.

“I suppose you think this is all some elaborate trick.”  Rishi said, calmly.

“Shut up,” Justin snapped.

“
Jesus, would you just believe me for once?
” Rachael
snapped, slamming her hand down on the table
.

“Why?  So he can tell us more lies.  I'm done with this.  And you should be too,”
h
e said, turning towards the door.  He was nearly out of the room when Rishi spoke, softly, but with a chilling edge to his voice.

“
I know what you are, Knight of the Autumn Glade.
”

Justin stopped and looked back.

“
I know what you are, and I know who you serve.  I know the stone ridge where you took your oaths upon the setting sun, and I
know about the secret halls beneath the roots of the Bower Castle where you were unmade.”
 

“How can you know that?” Justin said, eyes
narrowing
.

“
Because
I have studied the oldest things in this world.  I know who you serve, and I know what she is.  I wonder... Did
she
ever tell you just how she came to be
scarred
?”

Justin stared, but said nothing.  Slowly, calmly, the professor stood and walked towards the younger man.

“Justin... Are you sworn to protect this girl?”

“Upon my life,” Justin said, swallowing hard.

“Then we
both have the same intent
.  There is a great deal you have been misled about, but I promise you this; I mean Rachael no harm, and that makes me one of the only friends you are likely to have.”

He held out his hand, eyes fixed on Justin's.  Slowly, cautiously, Justin reached out to take it.

“When the time comes,” Justin said, “you'll let her go.  Go home, where she belongs.”

“That will be her choice to make, and only once she knows enough to make it.”

Justin's
regarded the man suspiciously
.

“There is much about your Lady of the Falling Leaves that even you do not know,” Rishi continued, sternly.

Justin regarded the man carefully.

“Fine,”
h
e said.  Then he turned and walked out of the room.

She caught up with him in the hallway.  Her hand caught his sleeve and he turned to look at her,
eyes as cold as ice
.  His look softened
as he recognised her
, but he said nothing.  
There didn't seem to be anything to say.
 

The day passed slowly.  They spent most of the time hiding out in the loft over the hold.  Neither of them spoke much, and the time crawled past.  For a while, Arsha joined them,
but the girl seemed nervous around Justin, almost as if she was about to flinch every time he moved.
 

They skipped dinner, sneaking food down from the pantry to share a meal in silence in the hold.  Finally they each retired to their rooms.  Rachael laid down, stilled the ghostlamp, and tried to sleep.
 

There was no light through the porthole when she woke, brought to by a gentle rapping on the door.  Feeling groggy, cold and uncomfortable, she crawled out from her bed and slipped the door open a crack.

It was Justin, in his
tattered
jeans and t-shirt, bare feet resting on the wooden floor.

“Can I come in?”
h
e said, glancing around the corridor as if worried he might get caught.

“Yeah.  Sure,”
s
he muttered, opening the door wider.  He slipped into the room, as she fumbled about for a dressing gown.  Feeling more comfortable with the gown pulled around herself, she settled down on the bed beside him.

For some reason her heartbeat seemed louder than usual.  She folded her legs under herself and looked him in the eyes, as if there might be some clue to why he had come.

For a moment he said nothing.  Instead he just looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“
So, are you going to say anything.  Because I was trying to sleep,
”
s
he
said, her voice hushed.
 

“Have you really thought about this?”
h
e said, calmly.

“About what?”
s
he said, her eyes narrowing.

“Where we're headed.  These people.  You need to start asking yourself some serious questions about who your friends are,”
h
e said with
an
infuriating calm.

For a moment she looked away.

“I don't know how I'm supposed to answer that,”
s
he said.  “They don't... Nobody ever told me how I'm supposed to handle something like this.  Justin, it's impossible.  I'm... I'm in a place that no one like me has ever been before, and even to these guys, with their flying ships and magic thinky crystals, I'm supposed to be something no one's ever seen before.  If they don't even know what they're doing... How should I?”

“Then why are you handing your safety over to them?”

“Because I've got no one else.”

She could see it the moment the words left her mouth.  How deeply
they cut him
.  His hand drew back back, and something in him closed off, became colder.

“I see.”

“No, Justin, you don't,”
s
he said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.  He looked at her as if being touched was the last thing he could ever want, but she held on regardless.  “You keep trying to do this all on your own.  You keep trying to be the only one who can help me, but it's not working.  This is too big.  It's too much for the both of us.  We can't just run around on our own, thinking it's OK.”

“Really?  Because you didn't seem to think that before.”

“Because I was being stupid.  Because I was too scared of everyone and everything around me to see that people were trying to help me.”

“You were being smart.  You never should have trusted these people.”

“Justin, I... I can't keep thinking like that.”

“Then I guess I'm no good to you any more,”
h
e said, moving to stand.  She caught his arm, pulling him back down.

“Will you just shut up for a moment?  Just... Just stop it.  All of this.  You can't fight them.  You can't save me.  You can't do all this on your own.  But I can't neither.  I need you here.  Because I'm scared, because I'm alone, and because you're one of the only people who's ever made me feel safe.”

The look of surprise on his face was priceless.  Feeling strangely distant from herself, almost as if she was watching her own actions, like a stranger, she slipped an arm around his shoulder and pulled herself close enough to let his lips brush against hers.  Then his hands found her shoulders, and she felt herself falling backwards against the pillow.  She could hear her heart pounding in her ears.  She slipped a hand under his shirt, fingertips pressed against his chest, catching the echoes of a matching rhythm.  The room was too hot.

He was careful not to rest his weight on her.  A hand slipped around her waist, fingertips tracing the bumps of her spine.  The cord around her waist seemed all tangled up.  She could feel the muscles moving beneath his skin.  
S
he drew a deep breath as
h
e pulled away for a moment,
like coming up for air
.  
His lips were pressed against her throat
.  
F
or a moment she imagined
long canine teeth
, dripping with blood.

“You should get back to your room.”  She said, softly.  He raised his head up to look her in the eyes.

“You don't want me to stay?”  He said, meaningfully.

“I really do.  But... I'm not ready for this.  And it's taking everything I've got to say no.”

There was just a moment when he hesitated.  At least, she supposed that it must have been only a moment, though it felt like forever.  Then he nodded, his hands gentle as he let her go.  He went to the door and slipped it open, peering out first to check the corridor.

“I'm here.  If you need me,”
h
e said.  She nodded, drawing the covers up over herself.  Then the door closed and he was gone.

Morning crept in through her window.  She crawled from her bed and made her way to the shower, both saddened and relieved that she didn't catch sight of Justin in the corridor.

Stepping out of the shower, she almost crashed into Arsha.  The girl's eyes were half closed, and she looked up at Rachael in groggy surprise.

“Hey?  Sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rachael said, feeling her cheeks
redden slightly
.  She quickly turned away, leaving the girl to the shower as she went to get dressed.

She made her way up to breakfast, finding Micah and Ilona seated across from one another, pouring over a set of notes as they sipped at their cups of tea.  
Steam wafted up from a basket of fresh cinnamon rolls, and Rachael grabbed one as she sat down.
 

Micah looked up and nodded.

“He's out on the deck,”
h
e said.  Caught with
her
mouth
full,
she couldn't ask who, but she already knew the answer.

As she made her way out onto the deck she found Justin still in just his jeans and t-shirt, despite the chill bite of the wind.  It was too loud to call out to him, so she just stood by the doorway and watched.
 

He was repeating a set of forms, flowing from one motion to the next with a liquid grace.  He looked
like
a dancer, the way he carried out each motion so smoothly.  It took her a moment to realise that his hands were set in such a way that he might be gripping something.  Something like a sword.