Chapter 11

11

A zlan

I’ve spread a large map across the kitchen table, ringing the Gray Isle and the Albany Convent, plotting a route I think we could take safely. I mark it with notes as Phoenix skips through the different radio stations trying to piece information together.

Every now and again, there is another announcement, endless announcements upon announcements. New restrictions the Lord Protector is implementing on the movements and liberty of the people. New laws he will be introducing, including the imprisonment of all weres and emergency powers he can use against the republic’s enemies. Plus constant reminders to the public about the fugitives on the run – enemies of the state. Huge rewards are offered for information that results in the capture of any unregistered, illegals or fugitives. I’ve heard the announcement many times over by now and yet every time it still has the ability to make my blood run cold.

Rhianna’s powers have already grown in the time I’ve known her, they are continuing to grow now. Christopher Kennedy has had a glimpse of those powers and if he’s worked out what we have – that Rhi is the girl in the prophecy – he’s going to want her dead.

As another of the announcements fades away, I throw my pen down on the table.

“She isn’t safe here in the republic, Phoenix. Traveling to the Gray Isle will be even more dangerous – traveling across the country without being spotted, impossible. We’re wasting time. We should be formulating a plan. Getting the hell out of here.”

Phoenix slams his palm on the radio and the thing falls silent. “She’s already spent the majority of her life running and hiding. Is that how you want her to spend the rest of it too?”

“No, I just don’t see a scenario where we take my uncle on and walk away alive.”

“Even if her mom was right and she’s the girl from the prophecy?”

“He has an army, powerful supporters. There’s no way we can defeat him. No way we can stay in the republic and keep Rhi safe.”

“Stone’s right.” I turn and find Rhianna hovering with Winnie in the doorway. “I’m not running anymore, Azlan. I can’t. Being on the run …” She shakes her head. “All five of you would hate it. You’d come to resent me for it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Rhi strides into the room, stopping in front of me and resting her palm on my chest .

“You would, Azlan. And maybe I’d come to resent you for forcing me into that situation.”

I appeal to Winnie. Rhianna trusts her judgment and opinion. “What do you think, Winnie? Aren’t we better getting Rhi away to safety?”

“I don’t think that’s her fate,” she says. “I don’t think that’s your fate either.”

“Fate isn’t some cast-iron force written in stone,” I say, jaw tightening. “We can choose our own path. And I’d like to choose the path where Rhianna is safe.”

“Safe, but always looking over my shoulder, always moving from one place to the next, never knowing who to trust. It’s no way to live, Azlan. So, please, let’s do it my way. Let’s go read this prophecy, understand exactly what we’re facing and then our choices will be better informed.”

“Don’t let him fool you, sweetheart,” Phoenix says, “he’s already plotted a route out to the Gray Isle.”

“You have?” she asks me with a smile.

“Yes,” I say grumpily. “We’ll pack up and leave tomorrow. In the evening. It will be safer to travel at night.”

“Thank you, Azlan,” she says, balancing up onto her toes to kiss my cheek.

Then she turns back to her friend and together they start pulling out pots and pans and raiding the supply of herbs in the pantry.

I leave them to it, assuming they’re cooking dinner and return to the map, double-checking my route, ensuring it bypasses any towns or likely checkpoints. It’s roundabout and I’m yet to work out how we will actually make the journey. We only have one car.

After a while, a strange odor fills the kitchen, tickling at my nose and I peer over my shoulder. Rhi and Winnie are crowded around a bubbling pot on the stove .

“What are you doing?” I ask, and both of them leap about a meter into the air. I stride over and lean over the pot, taking a look at the concoction inside. It looks like a potion. “What’s that?”

Winnie slams the lid on the pot. “Girl’s stuff.”

“Not dinner then.”

Rhi places one hand on her hip. “I already told you, don’t expect me to cook for you just because–”

“I’m teasing you. I’ll cook. I’d like us all to have dinner together.”

Rhi tips her head to one side, then nods. “I’d like that too.”

I walk through to the larder to see what I can find, keeping an ear out for Winne and Rhi’s conversation, curious about the girl’s stuff potion they’re brewing.

“It doesn’t look like very much,” Rhi comments.

“It’s not,” Winnie answers. “Enough for one dose. But ideally you should take a second tomorrow morning. Sorry, Rhi, but there just wasn’t enough Cloudpuff in the stores.”

Cloudpuff? What the hell is that used for again? It rings a bell. I wish I’d paid better attention in my damn potion lessons. I’ll have to ask Phoenix later, although, despite being an actual professor, he seems to know as much about potions as I do.

“If this is some potion to make your hair shinier or teeth whiter,” Phoenix says from the table, obviously also curious about what the girls are up to, “you don’t need it, you’re perfect as you are.”

“Duh,” Winnie says, “obviously.”

“Then what is it f–”

Rhi ignores him.

“Cloudpuff?” she says. “I saw some growing outside in the prairie. I can get some more in the morning and we can brew a second batch.”

I pull beef out of the freezer, and the last tins of tomatoes and a packet of pasta in the stores. We’ve already eaten our way through much of the food that was being kept here. By tomorrow evening there won’t be enough to feed us all which means we’d have to move on anyway or go find some more food. Both of which would place us in danger.

I carry my finds back into the kitchen in time to see Rhi sipping whatever the two girls have brewed, pulling a face of disgust as she does.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell that is?” I ask, using my magic to thaw the frozen meat before breaking it up into a frying pan. Rhi shakes her head. “I thought we were doing honesty now.”

“We are. And I will tell you. Just not right now,” she says, peeking at Trent who has taken a second radio to pieces, the parts strewn across the kitchen table.

“And what are you doing?” I ask him as the meat begins to sizzle.

“Erm,” the boy says as he twists two wires together, “seeing if I can make a handheld receiver.” He reads the puzzlement on Rhi’s face. “Walkie-talkies.”

“You can do that from that?” I ask.

“He’s some kind of gadget genius,” Rhi tells me, placing her empty mug on the side and coming to stand next to me. I pull her in front of me, wrapping my arms around her and resting my chin on her shoulder as I stir the cooking meat.

It almost feels domestic, kind of perfect, cooking together as if we were any other ordinary couple, any normal family. As if we didn’t have fate hanging over our heads and the Lord Protector determined to hunt us down.