CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Taryn felt the heavy trailer shudder to a stop and released the webbing that held her securely.

Stretching, she mused how much she’d missed the soft bed, three weeks of sleeping on the ground like her native ancestors was far more difficult then she’d expected.

The lessons had been…different. Her teacher, Running Water, appeared to be the terror of his students, demanding constant vigilance, effort and discipline in all aspects of his teachings, though he’d been famed for knowing all the spells and rites of his people.

Taryn had been held in awe by most of the class; she’d not only met his demands unwaveringly, she often exceeded even his expectations with her speed and dedication. Like Sylvie, she’d learned under a harsh taskmistress, but now it served her in good stead, for she could manage-barely-to take both Running Water’s lessons in the history and magic of their people, and the spear lessons of Diving Hawk, an athletic man who’d made his living at showcasing the historical weapons of his people in the Dakotas.

Now she was home, and she grimaced at the crowd outside; she’d wanted to arrive in the dead of night when most of them had gone home, but she’d been overruled by her mom and Agent Marianne, who was driving them.

Well, there’s nothing for it, but to get it over with, she sighed.

Pushing the automatic button for the ramp to extend, she opened the door and walked down. A deafening roar assaulted her ears, and she pranced a little in annoyance. Keeping her face smooth and neutral, she glanced at the huge crowd that had come to see her. News vans, well-wishers, and townsfolk all appeared to be there.

Walking towards the door, Taryn stopped in surprise; the front stoop seemed to be completely blocked with letters, cards, wrapped presents and unwrapped, flowers and candles. The line of gifts extended down both sides of the house, and turning she could see that the fences put up by the FBI were practically buried under the snowstorm of cards.

“What is all this?” she asked, stunned.

Agent Kelso, a small man from Montana, answered from his post near the garage door.

“These here are cards for ya, miss. All the ones you see along the house and door are already vetted by us and your fan club, no nasty surprises there. The ones on the fence haven’t been, and I don’t suggest you get too close to those until we’ve had a chance to go through them.”

“Oh.” Taryn said in a small voice. “I hadn’t known.” She walked inside, making sure to grab an armload of letters to bring with her.

The cheering outside the fence redoubled before being muted by the closing of her front door.

“That was nice, dear.” Her mom said, carrying several letters as well. “Picking up those letters like that. I’m sure they appreciated that.”

“Most of them won’t realize that I probably won’t ever see their letters.” Taryn complained, dropping the stack on the table and putting her spear and hand-made shield into the corner.

“Probably.” Her mother agreed. “But it was the right thing to do, and it’s the thought that counts.”

“Thanks mom.” Taryn smiled at her.

All of a sudden her phone started ringing.

“Now who could that be?” Taryn said irritably. She’d just gotten home from three long weeks, and now she just wanted to try and catch up on some lost sleep.

Of course, the name on the screen had to be Sylvie. Taryn sighed. She knew it had to be one of her close friends or Agent Bengal, the FBI had taken her old phone and number away and replaced it with a couple from their agency with unlisted, unregister able numbers after she began receiving calls nonstop from everyone under the sun.

What on earth could she want now? Granted, I’ve been out of contact for three weeks, but still… Taryn sighed again.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Taryn, glad to see you back.” Sylvie’s voice came on the line. Taryn went on point; Sylvie sounded tense and focused.

“Yeah, it was interesting.” Taryn said carefully. “But not too bad. How did the meeting with Megan and Cindy go?”

“Different. Those two have something really interesting going on with that pearl of theirs. Makes me wonder if all of Roland’s gifts aren’t just one time uses.” Sylvie emphasized.

Taryn froze; she got the message at once, of course, and her eyes darted to her mother who wore the stone on a chain around her neck.

“Mom, get the stone off, please.” She said urgently.

Her mom frowned at the request, but promptly took it off.

Taryn took the stone and held it in her palm. It looked normal; the same pale whitish color she’d seen when Josh handed it to her in Rio. Holding it aloft, she examined it in the light, looking for any differences or sign it could harbor a deadly secret.

“Sylvie, I’m not seeing anything different with the stone.” She said when she’d finished looking.

“Well, Megan and Cindy’s apparently work off their voices; they have to be singing for theirs to work. Perhaps you need some way of commanding it?” Sylvie mused.

“I could try…hang on a sec.” Taryn told her.

Looking at a dirty sock on the back of the couch, she looked at the stone, then looked at the sock. Making a sweeping motion with her hand, she commanded, “Fly to the corner of the room!”

Nothing happened.

Taryn thought about it, and tried ordering it again, but this time she used one of the words that Running Water had taught her was Cherokee for ‘fly’.
The sock bounced into the air as if scalded, flying into the wall where it slid into a heap at the base.

Taryn and her mom stared wide-eyed. As one they let out a slow breath.

“Taryn?” Sylvie’s worried voice came through the cell phone.

“I’m fine, Syl.” Taryn assured her. “But it seems you were right about Roland.”

There fell a silence amongst them, as each sat digesting their thoughts on the possible future.

“Well, what do we do now?” Sylvie asked her at last.

“You know, I don’t know.” Taryn said quietly. “It looks like the stone is dependent upon spells or commands in Cherokee, or maybe other native words.”

“You should try and learn to control it.” Sylvie advised. “But be careful! Bengal tried to acquire Megan and Cindy’s pearl from them in order to send back to DC to study. He might try to do that with the stone as well.”

Taryn frowned, thinking that would be all right with her, and good riddance! The FBI could dink around with the stone in a controlled environment and maybe unlock its potential, perhaps even a cure for what had happened to them.

Ah, but what about Sylvie’s vision? A voice came to her suddenly. It showed you dead with your spears broken around you. Perhaps it was a warning, showing that you need to use the stone in your battle.

Taryn frowned, pondering. The stone could be useful in a variety of situations, she didn’t doubt that, but if she tried to keep it, it could make things worse.

She looked at her mother. “What do you think I should do with the stone, mama?” she asked.

“Me?” her mom asked, surprised. “I think you should get rid of it, throw it and the spears away and stay where it’s safe, but that’s just the mother in me worrying about my only daughter.”
She came over and hugged Taryn tightly. “Whatever you decide to do with it, I will support you, honey.” She whispered. “You know more about this magic than anyone, so if you think you can handle it, then I believe you.”

Taryn smiled, but eyed the stone doubtfully. Could she handle the stone? She wished she sounded as confident as her mother did. She didn’t know if she could handle it very well. All of her accomplishments so far had been random guesswork and just plain luck, not to mention a whole lot of labor and effort.

Roland told Josh that it was a gift like no other. Perhaps he was right, but what kind of gift? I’d thought he just meant giving mom the ability to walk again, and that would be it. But now it seems to have a power all of its own, almost like a battery, but it’s just a stone, isn’t it?

“Mom, I think we need to visit old man Markson, and see if he can’t identify what kind of stone this is.”

“Do you want me to meet you there?” Sylvie asked grimly.

Taryn opened her mouth to say no, but then changed her mind.

“Yes, and bring Ben with you. I’ll call Josh, and we’ll all meet there. I have a feeling this is going to very important.”

“What about Agent Bengal?” Sylvie asked. “He’s actually done a lot for us, while still trying to work inside the rules set before him.”

Taryn hesitated. “As long as he won’t try to seize my rock for the government,” Taryn said firmly, “then he’s more than welcome.”

Everyone crowded inside the small rock shop that Ed ran. The shop stood on the ground floor of a two-story brick building set on the far end of town. Practically the sole building to escape damage in the riots, the building appeared dismal, dirty, and forlorn. For a moment, Taryn could see her town the way it had been before the Riot, when the town seemed constantly on the verge of collapse.

The dingy space inside seemed in character to the outside façade, with dusty cases filled to the brim with stones of every sort, from plain rocks Taryn thought she could find in her driveway, to sparkling gems of great beauty and worth.

Every case seemed comfortable and handmade, the wood supports and base gleaming after uncounted years of polishing, tarnished only by a light coating of brown dust. Only the glass seemed to have seen the rag and wash in recent history; you could see through them just fine at the treasures beneath, but here too Taryn detected differences. The glass was not display glass, but she suspected a type of bulletproof glass put in who knows how long ago. It seemed very thick, and very sturdy, and Taryn doubted a casual thief would be able to take anything from this store, discounting Rufus, Ed’s Doberman companion and guard dog.

Rufus was not making a very good showing of being a guard dog right now, wagging his tail and pushing his head against her, demanding attention. His short stub tail wagged as he sought to lick her face. Just to keep him from jumping up on her, Taryn scratched him behind the ears.

Ed stumped hard to his magnifying glass as he peered at Taryn’s stone from underneath his bushy white eyebrows that framed his aged and wrinkled face. Bright eyes looked keenly through the lens as he muttered quietly to himself, the others seemingly forgotten.

“How interesting, you appear to have the color of a pearl, but you are not! No, you’re skin is much too hard to be one, I can see that now, and the weight is all wrong too. Hmm, it’s not an ordinary stone; that I can see. But what is it?”

Taryn continued scratching Rufus as she waited patiently for Ed to do his job. Occasionally she could see the shapes of agents passing by the front window of the store, their forms indistinct and blurred under the dust and soot.

She glanced at Sylvie and could see that she shared the same thought, and both girls glanced at the wizened old man that hunched over the workbench like an insect with some tasty treat it had caught in its spindly front legs, the thick cane at his side nearly forgotten.

Sylvie bent to whisper quietly to her father, and Taryn cocked an ear to listen.

“Dad, why doesn’t mister Markson hire some help? Or perhaps we could have someone give him a hand?”

He whispered back, and Taryn blessed her sensitive ears as she heard every word.

“I’ve thought about it, but each time I think to ask him if he’d want the help, something comes up and I forget. I’ll ask him when we get done here, and see if we could try to get a contractor or someone from the high school to give him a hand, maybe spend some funds to try and get this building refurbished.”

“Maybe we can help.” Sylvie suggested quietly, looking around. “I mean, with all the shows pretty much canceled for security reasons, we could spend some time giving him a hand dusting or something.”

Her father smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m proud that you want to help, but this is just something that you can’t do.”

“Why not?” Sylvie asked stubbornly.

“It’s—“

“Too risky.” She sighed. “I’m getting pretty sick of hearing that one to be honest with you.”

Her father laughed. “I’m sure.” He smiled. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say; I was going to point out how difficult it would be to navigate in here as centaurs. You’re likely to break something trying to help.”

Taryn winced, the inside of the store was very tight for a centaur; heck, it was tight for a human. Trying to maneuver in there with a rag and attacking the display stands without hitting anything did seem impossible.

At that moment Ed straightened and turned to them with a quizzical look in his eye.

“Well, I can tell you this, your stone ain’t no diamond.” He told her. “But it seems to be more along the lines of a beryl.”

“Like the Bloodstone?” Sylvie asked in surprise.

“Yes.” Ed nodded, “But a different type of Beryl.”

“What are beryls?” Agent Bengal asked confused.

Ed looked at him impatiently. “Beryls, or Elfstones, as they are sometimes called, are semi-precious gemstones.” He told Bengal in a lecturing tone. “They are only what might be called middling gems; they are nowhere as precious or valuable as diamonds, rubies, or even sapphires, but the family does contain Aquamarine and Emerald stones.”

“Emeralds are beryls?” Bengal asked in confusion. “I thought an emerald was an emerald.”

Ed sighed. “No.” he said shortly, apparently not inclined to say anything more on that particular subject.

He turned back to Sylvie. “But your stone is fascinating and as unique in its own way as the Bloodstone. It’s pure white!”

“I know that.” Taryn said, coming forward. “And the stone is actually mine; but what’s so unusual about it being white?”

“Beryls usually have some sort of green tint to them, which is especially pronounced in the emeralds. They have some of other colors, such as yellow and even blue, but those are much, much rarer. None that I have ever heard of before were known to have different colors, and they were found only just recently. The Bloodstone, for example, was found less than five years ago from an anonymous collector. The collector didn’t say where exactly he’d found the stone, and that’s prompted enthusiasts and professionals to search the world over for the place where he might have got it. Do you know where this stone came from?”

“Roland.” Taryn told him. “He gave it as a booby-trapped gift for my mom.”

Ed’s eyes shot up past is scalp.

“What?”

Taryn told the story quickly, leaving Ed standing there dazed.

“Well, I never. I’m sure I haven’t heard of anything like this before…are you…well, that’s curious, very curious.”

“What is it Ed?” Taryn’s mother asked, “Is it dangerous?”

“No, no, I shouldn’t think it more than fantasy…well, actually maybe not. Don’t know for certain, but it is curious. Very curious.”

Taryn stamped in frustration. “What is curious, Mr. Markson?”

“Do you remember when I talked to this man here, (he pointed to Bengal) about beryls and their names?”

“Yeah?” Taryn said, not tracking his sudden shift of subject, much to his obvious annoyance.

“Elfstones my dear!” he cried. “Elfstones! They were the gems the fairy folk loved the best! Some say that the stones had the ability to store magic power in them. Others think that they were the source of the fabled magic of the fey folk. Still more, however, think that they were simply ornaments and had no real power at all, but were still highly coveted for some mystic reason.”
Taryn frowned thinking. “Do these people ever speak of how strong the power of each stone is?”
Ed shrugged. “I rarely pay much attention to that sort of thing.” He said apologetically. “My nephew in California knows more about the fantasy side than I do; he has too, some of his biggest customers are game designers that are looking for information they can use in them video games or whatever they call ‘em.”

Taryn frowned, considering. What Ed had told them made sense, as far as it went; the stone obviously had a huge amount of magical energy, it had once been called an Elfstone, and could do things nothing else could; but there were still many unanswered questions. Did the stones work as a battery, or a capacitor? Did the stones feed off ambient magical energy, even assuming Earth had some, or did they have to be charged from some magic source and so risk losing its power completely if they didn’t find the charger, so to speak?

“I can’t answer that.” Ed told them when she asked the question. “I can call my nephew and ask him, perhaps he might have the answers you seek.”

“All right.” Taryn said, expecting him to pull out a cell phone to call, but instead he went to his counter where an old rotary phone still stood, its green case cracked and worn. Picking up the battered receiver, he spent a good while dialing, and then waited.

After a while he shrugged and hung up the phone.

“He must not be in today,” he said. “Or he might be busy with a customer. I will call him again later and see about getting that information to you, Mister Mayor.”

“Thank you Ed.” Sylvie’s father said gratefully. “I really appreciate that. While I’m here though, I wanted to ask if you could use some help around the store.”
v“Oh, no, I’m fine.” Ed protested immediately. “You’re busy and I can manage.”

Taryn shook her head. Stubborn old man.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Sylvie’s father said, “after all, I was thinking of having some of the high school kids helping out here. They could use the chance to learn about gemstones and other geologic facets, but if you’re not interested.”

Ed snorted dismissively. “As if kids are interested in the beauty of gems and the marvels of geology these days, Greg! Let’s be honest, I would have to spend more of my time watching them to make sure they’re doing their chores than being able to mind my store. I’d be too exhausted!”

“It was just an idea.” Sylvie’s father shook his head slowly; turning away from Ed. Taryn noticed a slight smile forming on his face.

“But since you’re not interested, I guess they’ll probably go to work for Blackstone in town. He’s going to be adding a jewelry section to his store, you know.”

“Blackstone! Blackstone!” Ed roared, thumping his cane violently into the carpet. “That two-timing rat doesn’t know the first thing about jewelry and precious stones!”

“He’s willing to take some on after school hours and give them a job as part of the outreach program.” Sylvie’s father pointed out.

“I can take a few on.” Ed said defiantly, “and teach them a damn sight better than Blackstone!”

“Then it’s settled.” The mayor turned back around where his smile beamed in full force. “I’ll speak with the director tomorrow. Good night, mister Markson. Have a nice day.”

They left and walked down the packed street, cameras and everything else turning to follow their movements as a huge cordon of police and agents struggled to keep the curious onlookers back. Looking over her shoulder, Taryn could see people begin to flood into the jewelry store as soon as the last agent left the door.

Well, at the very least he’ll be popular for a while, she thought.

Now she tried to focus on what Markson had said.

Elfstones, Elfstones, where have I heard that term before? She wondered. It tickled something at the back of her memory, but it remained elusively out of reach and she at last gave it up as a bad job.

With the mystery of the origins of her stone still elusive, she turned her mind towards what she’d learned about controlling her stone. It seemed Native words were needed to control the stone, though she wasn’t sure why; perhaps it had something to do with the Native People’s stronger connection to nature than other cultures? If that were true, would Inuit work? What about the words of the natives of other countries? The Mbongo in Africa? The People of the Mists in South America, or the Lapland people in Russia? Did the commands have to come from languages still alive and aware, or could it come from older languages? Latin perhaps? Or something else?

The problem she foresaw would be in testing her theory. Most of the languages she could see working were simply not to be found easily, either through electronic means or even in her local library.

The sound of someone speaking to her finally penetrated her thoughts and she looked up to see

Sylvie looking concernedly at her.

“What?” she asked, blinking like an owl as she tried to untangle the mess her thoughts had become.

“Tar, are you still mad at me?” Sylvie asked as they walked together down the street.

Taryn looked at her, “mad?” she asked, “Why would I still be mad?”

“Oh, I don’t know, just a feeling I got. Lately it seems as if you’re trying to avoid me; other than that call about the trailer I haven’t gotten a text or anything, and you haven’t visited so I just thought you might not like me anymore.” Her voice hitched a little and dropped to a strangled whisper.

Taryn looked at her friend, walking straight-backed and proud next to her, but she knew where to look to see the trembling at the corner of the lip that showed her friend caught in the grips of some great emotion.

“Well, it’s kind of hard for us to get out of the house without it being turned into some giant circus.” She pointed out dryly.

“Heh, yeah, I guess you have a point there.” Sylvie smiled. A little. “It seems that even then we had more freedom to move about than we do now.”

“Well, I for one wouldn’t trade this freedom for the chance to move around.” Taryn said hastily.

“Oh no, neither would I! I mean, who would? But Tar, I can’t help but get the feeling that it’s more than just crowds keeping you away.”

Taryn opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again. She glanced around; their parents were studiously looking away, the agents appeared to be entirely focused on the crowd, but Taryn didn’t doubt they heard every word.

Realizing that this wasn’t something she wanted the world to hear, she bent her head close to Sylvie.

“We’ll talk when we get to my house, okay?”

Her friend leaned in and whispered back. “All right.”

And then they fell silent, each absorbed in each other’s thoughts as they continued down the street.

They’d only gone a little ways, past the next corner and still some distance from their house, when they became aware of another, smaller crowd of people rapidly approaching theirs like two galaxies coming together. Thanks to their height, they could see that the incoming crowd seemed mostly composed of girls and women, some of whom they recognized as being classmates or townsfolk and others they just didn’t recognize at all.

Taryn noted, with a surge of relief, that Josh seemed uncomfortable with the attention, but smiled when he caught sight of them.

“Taryn?” he called, heading towards them. The fan group bounced off his body as he moved like ice parting in front of a ship, and once he’d cleared them by a little bit he broke into a trot, out-pacing the girls that chased after him, and then into a gallop.

As he neared the agents tensed, seeming ready to pull out their weapons, but as they knew who he was and why he was running, they simply parted to let him through. The leading edges of the crowd, seeing him not slowing down, dove out of the way to keep being run over. Some of the outsiders cursed and shook their fists at him, or flipped him off, but the townsfolk simply laughed it off and waved as he passed.

“Hi Taryn.” he said when he got through to the center of the circle.

“And everyone.” He added looking around. “It’s great to see you guys.”

“Hello Josh.” Taryn’s mom laughed cheerfully while the others grinned. “You might want to work on widening your vision a little.”
vJosh flushed and stammered an apology while the others broke up. Even the agents grinned a little, as they worked to keep the crowd back.

“Let’s go in the house.” Taryn suggested.
They made their way towards the fence, when Taryn caught sight of a petite, brown-haired woman holding a microphone in her hand slid under one of the agents and rush up to them.

“Taryn,” she said, seizing on the nearest centaur while everyone cursed and tried to close with her. “How do you feel about the declaration of Tenebrae Cultor? Are you scared? Eager for the showdown? Are you going to go into hiding? What about the others that say that you are a demon and should be exorcised or killed? What do you want to say to our viewers?”

Her words came out in a rush, so close on each other that Taryn could only barely make out what the woman had said. Certainly, she had no time to reply.

Two agents grabbed her by either shoulder and forced her onto the ground, snatching away the microphone and pulling handcuffs from their belts.

The other agents tightened ranks, their eyes on the suddenly silent crowd that watched the woman being hauled roughly off the ground by two burly agents.
Agent Bengal came up beside them.

“What was she talking about?” Taryn asked, frowning, an uneasy feeling forming in her gut. “Do you know anything about this?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask.” He admitted, glaring down at the woman from behind an angry mask. “What are you trying to tell us? What declaration?”

The woman remained silent, a trickle of blood sliding out of the corner of her mouth. She seemed shocked at the rough treatment, but Taryn knew that it would not be long before she became angry and would be impossible to deal with.

“Chief! Chief!” A voice yelled from the crowd. Everyone went on point until Taryn recognized Millie waving from near the back.

“Let her pass!” she shouted. “Let her pass!”

The crowd parted reluctantly and she made her way up to the wall of agents who remained unmoving, their hard stares cowing those who got to close, their hands resting lightly on the butts of their pistols.

Millie, who Taryn knew never lacked for courage, thrust her arm past the agents and held out her phone. Ben hurried over and took it from her, thanking her as he looked at the screen.

He tried to turn away to view it privately, but the others had already come beside him so he gave in with a grumble and hit play.

Taryn saw a tall, strongly-built man with greasy, unkempt hair and a sneer on his face. He seemed to be standing in front of a dirty, bare wall like an underground garage or storeroom, speaking to the viewer. Taryn could barely hear him on the phone, but the video included subtitles, and she wondered why he had bothered.

“We, the Messengers of the Dark God, have come into the light to strike at our own that have dared betray us; Taryn Grogan and Sylvie Mathison are to be struck down by us for leaving the faith and becoming cowards and unbelievers. We shall hunt them, and bind them, and bring them before the altar! We shall never rest nor leave any stone unturned in our quest! Those that have harbored them shall feel the pain of our knives, before their bodies are returned to the faithless that they may know the cost of their actions! They will watch in horror as their families die and their corpses sent back as a lesson in defying the Faith! If they have any courage, which I doubt, they will meet us alone in Maplewood and give themselves up for justice! If they wish it, we shall face them in the Trial of Combat, that they may prove their loyalty to the Dark God and be forgiven! If not, then this shall be their reward!”

The screen cut away and showed an image of Sylvie’s house for a fleeting instant before it exploded spectacularly. Taryn gasped and looked in the direction of her house, but saw nothing, and she’d certainly heard nothing, except for Bengal’s fierce voice demanding a report from somebody at the other end of his microphone. Evidently whatever he heard troubled him, for he acknowledged the report and began scanning the roofs around them.

“CGI.” She muttered before anyone else had finished searching the skyline for smoke. “They’ve gone and layered a house exploding over Sylvie’s house in the video. Clever.”

Ben nodded, but his face became angry and he remained silent, scanning the rooflines.

Agent Bengal spoke to them. “We’ve got to get you out of here, take you to a safe house.”

Taryn shook her head before he could finish. “Agent Bengal, sir, I know you want to keep us safe, but this imagery is likely very old, or possibly cut from the crowds that have been hanging outside our door day and night…with the agents you have surrounding our house, I don’t think anyone could have made it inside to plant anything nasty. We’ll go to my house for now, and you can run a full check of both if you wish, but we are going home!”

And with that she started walking again, her head held high. She prayed no one noticed her sweaty palms or the nervous flicking of her tail as she walked towards the wall of agents.

Hooves on either side of her told her that Josh and Sylvie had joined her march, and then they were all moving again, Ben hurrying to catch up with them and speak to them before anyone else.

“Girls, this isn’t wise.” He told them. “Granted, what you said is true, but there is always a chance that they want to lull you into a false sense of security thinking they can’t get at you in the real world and so went to Hollywood for their attacks. It would be a lot safer if we took you guys down to the station for the night.”

Sylvie bent her head a little and spoke out the corner of her mouth.

“I doubt that your station would be able to protect us any better than our own houses right now, or that armored trailer. But I’m not thinking about that right at this moment. We’ve been attacked just now, and everyone knows it. What we do next defines us for the rest of our lives to these people; do we hunker down and cower from empty words and threats, or do we stand tall and go about our lives normally? We can’t live our lives in fear and constantly running from people that don’t like us, Chief. We’ve got to stand up to them, and this is the best way to do that and show them that we aren’t afraid.”

He looked up at her, “But you are, aren’t you?” he asked very softly.

“Terrified.” She confessed.

He sighed, and looked at the three of them, at their set expressions and the weapons gleaming in their holsters on their flanks or backs; not in their hands but at hand.
He shook his head and kept his pace next to Taryn, shouting to Millie that she could get her phone from him at the station. Millie waved and disappeared into the milling mass of the crowd.

She almost jumped when hands landed on her flank, and she twisted to see her mother striding quickly beside her, coming slightly ahead as the focused look gave away her intentions.

She quickly vaulted onto Taryn, and as she felt the slight weight settle onto her back she realized how comforting it felt, and she kept walking straight forward.

Taryn never thought she’d be so happy to see the small two story home of hers in her life. Its white walls, slightly colored through time, seemed like stone castle walls than the thin wood she knew them to be.

All of them, agents, family and centaurs, picked up their pace a little at seeing the welcoming sight, and the cordon of agents, dogs, fences and vehicles that surrounded the little house.

The leading edges of the crowd came into contact with the cordon first, compressing a little in front of them. Taryn wondered if they would have to shove their way through when the townsfolk came to their rescue again, pushing the strangers aside as they boldly forced a lane.

The agents poured down the clearing, pushing the last stragglers out and filling the gaps from those that were there, until the path to the front door was clear.

Taryn paused only a few moments to pick up some of the cleared letters and packages before walking inside, seeing Sylvie and Josh stoop to pick up others until nothing was left on the front step. There came a ragged cheer cut off as the front door closed, leaving the agents and police outside.

“Well,” Taryn’s mother said as she slid off her daughter’s back. “I guess I should get some drinks.”

“I’ll give you a hand.” Anne said, hurrying towards the kitchen with her.

“I think I’ll step outside and speak with Ben.” Greg said quietly.

That left them with only Josh, who looked bewilderedly about. Taryn wanted to laugh, he looked so funny! But the mood of the room had shifted, and she felt the complex welter of emotions swallow the mirth like quicksand.

“What happened?” he asked cluelessly.

“Josh, why don’t you go and…help mom.” Taryn suggested. Sylvie just stared at the ground, holding her arm nervously.

Josh looked between them, a frown on his handsome face that Taryn wanted to smack off; she couldn’t believe this stallion, so smart when it came to programming software and the latest stats of baseball and the molecular weights of the elements, could be so dense!
Fortunately (or unfortunately) he was saved from her smacking by the appearance of Sylvie’s mom, who took him by the arm and firmly steered him towards the kitchen, Josh allowing himself to be led away with a bemused expression.

Taryn was grateful for the pseudo privacy everyone afforded them, what needed to be said now was private, and she worried on how she would be able to speak the words that needed saying.

Well, hell with it. She decided with sudden fierceness.

“Sylvie, what you said earlier, on the street?”

“Yes?” she asked, breaking in before Taryn could continue, but she still looked down at the floor. Taryn felt a surge of anger at her friend.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I’m still mad.” She growled. “You went behind my back, doing something that we both swore we’d never do, and tried to keep me safe by doing it on your own instead of telling me when we might have figured out a different solution!”

“Like what?” Sylvie asked, turning to her. Taryn felt flabbergasted to see a shimmer on the corner of her eyes.

“Tar, they were going to arrest mom and dad, and definitely the chief because of what they did for us, for me. I couldn’t let that happen, and nothing in the world would have changed that except what I did; I offered myself in exchange for them. I was just lucky the agreed.” She admitted, looking down at her feet for a minute. Then back up at Taryn.

“Tar, I know you would’ve tried to help, but I didn’t want you to come up against the same problems I did; what if they’d gone after your mom too? We’re both not old enough to be legal age to live outside the house just yet, we would have become wards of the state, and from there the government! Our parents would’ve been sitting behind bars. I thought that if I could give them what they wanted on my terms, you wouldn’t have to know how close we came to losing everything.”

Taryn frowned, feeling unsure. She’d guessed that Sylvie had faced those kind of obstacles when she’d made her decision, but that still didn’t mean that it was the right decision, or that she should have made it without her.

“Sylvie,” Taryn began, hearing the anger leech out of her voice. “I know that you faced very difficult decisions; and, frankly, I’m not surprised that you went the route that you did. Heck, if I’d found no other way out I probably would have gone the same route with you, but that was the problem, Sylvie: You went behind my back and didn’t share the danger with me when it presented itself. You chose to go your own way…how can we be friends if you keep doing that?”

She shook her head almost immediately, regret slamming into her. “Forget I said that, of course we would still be friends, but it does hurt, Sylvie. It hurts a lot that I couldn’t help you when you needed it, because you didn’t let me in. Are you trying to go your own way?”

“NO!” Sylvie said instantly, her eyes widened in shock and she wrung Taryn’s hands urgently. Having never had her hand wrung before, Taryn found it an uncomfortable, tightening experience.

“Taryn, believe me, I’m not trying to go my own way. It’s just that…well, you seemed so happy again, Taryn! Everything was going right for you, and I didn’t want anything to spoil it.

What if I’d miscalculated? What if Wolfe had decided to kidnap me again? What if Bengal had decided to haul me all the way to Washington D.C. for his tests? You’d have been right there with me again, because of my mistakes…again.” She said bitterly.

She turned quickly away, her hooves striking the floor in a pleasing pattern, Taryn noted numbly, and Taryn could just hear her mutter, “No, it wasn’t my fault they died, Stetson is right. It just…happened that way. But really, it was my fault wasn’t it? I looked out the window, I let Nightshade see us, if I hadn’t been so curious…so stubborn…” she desisted, her recriminations beyond words now.

Taryn laid her hand quickly on her shoulder.

“Sylvie,” she said quietly, trying to lean forward enough to peer into her friend’s face. Sylvie turned away, unwilling to look at her.

“Sylvie,” Taryn said again, more firmly this time. “I don’t blame you for looking through the window…who’d have known what that could do? People look through windows all the time, and I felt just as curious as you did about who might be out there. It might have been me going to the window despite the warnings. It happened, and there’s nothing we can do about it now anyway. All we have to worry about now is trying to survive this crazy, messed up world right now.”

Sylvie actually chuckled, her hand reaching up to pat the oiled stock of her fantastic rifle.

“Would you believe, I’m actually not all that worried about it?” she said. “With our abilities, I’m certain we stand a fighting chance at that bit. It’s us that I’m having a hard time with right now.” She admitted.

“I know.” Taryn said quietly. “But I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

Sylvie gave her a watery smile. “My best friend, not know how to do something? Seems impossible, doesn’t it?” She teased.

Taryn, caught by surprise, laughed in delight—it seemed ages since Sylvie had teased her about anything.

“Well, someone has too, you jocks certainly couldn’t.” she replied in kind.

The girls laughed, and then Sylvie had hugged Taryn, and Taryn hugged Sylvie, until neither of them could tell who was hugging the other, and both were sobbing how sorry they were.

A noise just behind them broke them apart, and Taryn saw everyone coming out of the kitchen,

Josh blushing furiously red and their mothers smiling fondly.

“We thought you could use some water.” Her mom said cheerfully, holding up the cup. Sylvie’s mom didn’t say anything, studying her daughter with a mixture of pride and understanding. Sylvie gave her a wan smile as they settled around the couch to talk.

Sylvie’s father came back in and took the glass his wife offered him.

“Thanks hun.” He told her as he collapsed on the couch.

“You’re welcome.” She said. “What’s the latest?” she asked.

“Well, Bengal’s men searched the house and came up with pretty much zilch, just like Taryn thought. It appears the footage was taken from someone in the crowd that’s been in front of our house like crazy. The agents have increased the cordon distance about five hundred feet, so unless they can get a hold of a missile I don’t think we’ll have much to worry about.”

“Well, at least it will be quieter around the house at night.” Sylvie’s mother gave a small grin. “Now that they have to chant from farther away, they’ll lose their voices quicker.”
Everyone laughed; some of the Outsiders (as people in town had started to call them) had created chants against Taryn and Sylvie as being unnatural, and probably for the other changed as well Taryn assumed, and they had taken to standing as close as they could legally and pounding on drums and chanting all night long, making it hard to sleep.

“I wonder how long it will be before they finally give up and go away.” Sylvie said angrily.

“Probably years.” Josh said morosely. “I mean, look at that mess with those nutters in the south, trying to interrupt as many military funerals as they could…they still try to, despite facing opposition.”

“That’s starting to be less and less.” Sylvie’s father interrupted. “After they tried to stage that crap protest in…in…hmmm, can’t think of the town right off hand. Anyway, the town police had to literally surround them with riot shields so they could escape before the townsfolk beat them to death. After that I don’t think they’ve made as big a splash as they did before, in case they ran into the same trouble elsewhere.”

“Good.” Anne snarled, making everyone eye her warily. “Those…I’m not going to say it…have no business attacking those who’ve died for this country. “

“Amen.” Her mother said softly. “But let’s talk more about what we are going to do with the people outside…they aren’t just going to go away any time soon. What are our options Anne?” she asked.

The fiery red-head frowned as she ran her finger around the brim of her plastic cup contemplatively.
v“Right now, not much.” She said. “Legally speaking, they are protesting in a public area and following the directives of local and federal law enforcement. They haven’t rioted, or done much beyond chant and try to get air time, which they are getting without too much trouble, despite our press conferences.”

Taryn started. “Press conferences? What press conferences?” she blurted.

“Oh, I’ve been holding some at the office, dear.” Sylvie’s mother explained. “They know I’m representing you girls and have to go through me to get any information they want…not that I’m giving them much.’ She added with a shark’s grin, “but it’s enough that they don’t simply turn on you and try to make you seem like crazy recluses or something.”

“Sometimes it feels like it.” Sylvie muttered loud enough to be heard, but she said it with a smile and everyone laughed.

“I’m sorry sweety, but with everything going on all at once, it’s really dangerous to get out and about like we used to.” Her mother said apologetically.

Sylvie waved the apology away. “I’m not blaming you mom,” she said laughingly, “but it is a pain right now, not being able to get out. I’m missing so much time at the range.”
Her mother rolled her eyes while everyone laughed.
After some further conversation, her mother asked if everyone wanted to watch a movie.

“Sure.” Josh replied, nodding eagerly.

“Sounds like fun.” Sylvie said. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay over for the night.” She glanced at her parents as she said this, and Taryn watched them exchange glances before nodding.

“All right, I don’t see why not. Just be careful.” Her mother told her.

“Don’t worry mom, I will.” Sylvie promised.

Taryn smiled, the old eagerness coming back to her; she’d always enjoyed having Sylvie stay over, before they’d changed, after they’d changed, it felt good to know that the feelings hadn’t gone away.

A little into the movie Josh bent over and asked if he could talk to her privately. Taryn glanced at the others—they seemed involved with Lost in Space to notice—and nodded.

They got up from where they’d been laying (Taryn motioned for Sylvie to stay where she was when she looked over at them) and they walked into the garage, aware that everyone’s eyes were upon them even as their owners struggled to seem covert about it.

Once behind the safety of the door, Taryn walked to her bed and folded her legs comfortably on it, gesturing to the mattress next to her where Sylvie usually slept.

Her room had evolved to match her new needs, with much of the cold metal shelving that had been there originally had been taken to the town’s long-term storage along with much of the gardening and automotive supplies that had been on them. Now the floor sported a tough, weather-sealed carpet and insulated walls that kept the cold out better, two great mattresses that served as her bed and Sylvie’s when she stayed over, wood shelves that had picture frames, old chemistry sets, an iPod player disguised as an antique radio, and her old science trophies and swim team medals. On her bookshelves she had over a hundred books on most subjects, from biology to engineering, to be found, as well as a single, three-shelf bookstand set near her bed that held her favorite romance and adventure novels. By her bed now was a simple stand light with a metal arm that came down to direct light where she needed it.

Taryn took this bed, hers, while Josh stood and paced. It wasn’t a good sign; he only got this way when he was really nervous about something but was determined to see it through.

Taryn couldn’t help but admire the play of muscles beneath his shiny hide as he walked, the effortless movement stirred something in her, and she blushed furiously as she hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Taryn, there’s something I want to tell you…’ he began

Her heart beat faster as various possibilities flashed through her mind. One-by-one she discounted them; he wanted to sleep with her, he wanted to take her out on a date, he wanted to break up (this thought filled her with cold dread), until she thought she’d come to the right answer, but still she waited. She could be wrong, after all.

He took a deep breath, then turned to face her. His legs were firm and his jaw set as he looked down where she sat, caught in the grips of some fierce emotion that threatened to topple him.

“Iwanttomarryyou.” He blurted in a sudden squeal.

Taryn blinked, the words had come so close together as to be almost garbled. She worked through it rather quickly, however and found herself conflicted.

On the one side, she felt buoyed and light-headed, her imagination flashing ahead to them standing in a warm field somewhere in front of a neat one-story white house with centaur-sized doors (painted blue), with two beautiful children running around giggling while she stood swollen with child next to Josh. On the other hand, however, her logical side kept insisting that her fantasy would never become reality; the children would never be welcomed in school, or bullied unmercifully for being different, the house would be over-expensive to build as it would have to be all custom-done, and the dangers they faced now would only get worse as they went on. Plus, how could they possibly get married now, when Tenebrae Cultor was after her best friend, to murder her viciously?

But how could she break it to him?

She opened her mouth to tell him it was a nice thought, but what came out instead was, “You want to get married now?” in an incredulous tone.

He flushed a deep red but held his ground stubbornly.

“Yeah, I do. Look,” he said, coming to drop down beside her. “We both know there’s a lot of uncertainty regarding things, especially with Tenny-bray Cult-nor or whatever out there. We might not have a better chance to get married than right now, when it’s quiet.

She arched a brow. “This is quiet?” she asked, gesturing to the garage door where, very dimly, could be heard the protesters chanting in the street, and the light of flashlights could be guessed through the black curtains in front of the windows. Also, she had pointed to the thickness of the metal that had been added to the door (it basically became a wall as there would be no garage opener in the world that could open it now) and the other four walls to make an armored safe room of sorts that she could sleep safely in.

“Yeah, they aren’t shooting at us right now.” He said with a slow smile on his face. “Though how they could shoot at an angel is beyond me.”

She smacked his arm lightly. “Flattery will not help your cause, buster.” She told him playfully.

“But it can’t hurt either.” he rejoined, running his hand down her back. She felt chills erupt along her flesh wherever he touched, and the sensation threatened to drive her to distraction.

“Don’t do that.” She told him.

“What?” he asked innocently. “this?” and he ran his hand down her back again.

“Oooh.” She bit her lip and hit him, harder. “Yes, that. Don’t do that.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender and laughed. “Yes, dear.” He grinned. “See, you’re already giving me orders, and I obey! That’s what mom says guys are supposed to do for their wives, just nod and agree with whatever they say.”

She glared at him as her mouth struggled to grin. “Did she also say mocking your…a girl is a bad idea?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not that I can think of.” He said.

“Well, it is! So don’t do that again!”

“All right, as you wish.” He said. “But seriously, I want you, God I’ve wanted you to be my wife for years, since…well,” he blushed. “Since I first met you, in fact.”
She stared at him, caught off guard. “But…we’ve known each other since third grade!” she said.

“Yeah, I know. Mom laughed when I came home and told her that. Said to give it time, I wasn’t ready and you wouldn’t be either.” Josh said. “But I knew then that you would be the only girl for me.”

Taryn felt tears spring to her eyes as a chaotic welter of emotions rose in her heart. “You dummy!” she howled, casting herself into his arms and hugging him fiercely. “You are so…so…”

“Romantic?” he suggested.

“Something else!” she said through her tears. “But, Josh…we can’t, I mean, I want to, but…if we get married, what will happen to Mom? To Sylvie? I can’t abandon them!”

Josh fell quiet, thinking through the problem as Taryn held him close; for once her logical brain seemed to have deserted her, and she could see no way for their happiness.

“Just because we get married, doesn’t mean that we have to leave.” He said at last. “We could continue living here, just together.”

Taryn sniffed as she hugged him. “I would like that,” she said, “But you know neither of our mom’s would approve.”

“Then what do we do?” he asked, sounding a little hurt.

Taryn wished she could give him a different answer, any kind of other answer, but none came.

“We should remain as we have.” She said in a very small voice. “Josh, I love you too, but right now…it just isn’t going to work out. If we can just get some semblance of normalcy in our lives…”

He snorted. “Normalcy, as centaurs?”

“You know what I mean!” she snapped, flaring. “When we aren’t being sought after as demons to exorcise or magic to cut up and smash into very tiny bits, surrounded by more agents than the President and worrying that it still won’t be enough to keep us alive!”

Josh said nothing to this pronouncement, how could he? Instead, he gave her a very tender hug, mumbled something about needing to get back to the TV before more awkward questions were asked, and went slowly into the main house.

Taryn did not follow; she was…too emotional right now. She wanted to weep on the floor, be angry at Josh for suggesting marriage in the first place, angry at herself for not saying yes, sad for the future that might have been, but she did none of that. She simply sat there, staring at the mattress that he’d vacated, thinking.
She heard the movie end, the front door open and close, and knew he’d left. Sylvie came in and found her there, stopping at the door, she bit her lip. Suddenly she backed out and called, and her mother came in.

Taryn barely noticed her sitting down beside her, placing her arm over her back in a sort of hug. Sylvie, blessedly, was nowhere to be found.

“Honey, what is it?” her mom asked.

What do I tell her? Taryn wondered.

“Mom, Josh…he…he…” she stammered, unable to complete the thought.

Her mother stiffened, “he didn’t…hurt you in any way?” she said, sounding angry and fearful all at once.

Taryn quickly shook her head. “He…asked me to marry him.” She said distraught.

Her mother stiffened. “But you’re both only seventeen!”

“We’ll both be eighteen in another month or two mom.” Taryn reminded her.

Her mom stayed silent, considering. “What did you tell him?” she asked quietly.

“What could I tell him?” Taryn said, feeling abruptly very old, and very, very tired. “It wasn’t right, leaving you alone mom, and poor Sylvie either. She’s…she’s”

Taryn fell silent, unable to speak further.

Taryn felt her mother’s arms engulf her. As she let herself melt into the hug, her raw emotions shattered her fragile self-control, she buried her face into her mother’s shoulder, the tears beginning to flow.

“Shh, Shhh,” her mother comforted, her hands patting the back of her head.

“I wanted to, I wanted to say yes.” She cried, “But I couldn’t! I couldn’t leave you and Sylvie…I had to choose, I had to choose.”

“It’s all right,” her mother rocked gently, back and forth, “Shhh, it wasn’t right for him to force this on you.”

Taryn gave a watery sniff. “I’m surprised he’s waited this long.” She admitted

“Why do you say that?” her mother asked sharply. “After all, you’ve only gone out…how many times?”

“Six or seven, though we’ve hung out a lot more than that, and only twice officially after the Change. It took him till high school to get enough courage to ask me out.”

“Well, there you are.” Her mother said, running her fingers through her thick mane of hair that Taryn found strangely soothing. “Wait a little bit and see. Being married is…a huge change.

“I know it is.” Taryn assured her. “But I did want it, more than anything; but I’m not ready yhet.”

They stayed talking for hours before her mom got up and left. Then Sylvie came stumbling in, yawning and blinking (she’d evidently fallen asleep while waiting for them) and made her way to her bed.

“Everything all right?” she asked sleepily.

“Oh, all right.” Taryn said loftily, “Josh just asked me to marry him tonight is all.”

Sylvie froze in mid-yawn, her eyes bugging out of her skull giving her a rather comical appearance of a swallowing fish. Taryn giggled at the hilarious comparison, growing stronger the longer Sylvie stayed frozen until she was completely overcome with mirth.

Sylvie finally closed her jaw with a snap; but almost immediately it opened again to vomit questions, one after another; all trace of weariness forgotten.

Taryn told her the truth, except about her being in danger as part of why she said no.

Sylvie will feel guilty, and probably do or say something stupid. She reasoned.
Still, she got the uncomfortable feeling Sylvie guessed more than she’d wanted, and suspected that, either way, her choices that evening would lead to complications.

A fragment of song surfaced as she lay her head down on her pillow to sleep some time later, echoing in her head and out her lips in a muted whisper in the dark.

“Whyyy must I beee a teenager in looove?”