Becoming Calder

Clive brought the whip back again, the expression on his face filled with some sort of disgusting glee, and let it fly, creating a third welt on Xander's flesh.

Two more times the whip flew and two more times Xander jerked but didn't utter a sound.

"That's enough, Clive," Hector called. Clive looked over at him, seeming to come back to himself, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants. "I think justice has been served for the thievery. Did you get your chain back? Do you feel vindicated?"

Clive seemed to consider the question, looking back at Xander who was hunched over, his back a mess of blood and open wounds. "Yes," he said, dropping the whip on the ground and turning to walk back toward the main lodge.

Hector nodded over at Garrett and Ken. "Let him go. I think this served as a lesson to him, too. You can accompany your friend to the sick tent." I heard women crying around me, but I didn't turn to look at anyone in the crowd.

My arms were released and I rushed forward to Xander, kneeling down in the dirt beside him. "Hey, brother," I said gently, "let's get you off here."

Xander grimaced as I began to untie the rope binding his wrists. "Fuck me, it hurts, Calder," Xander grunted. He must have been in excruciating pain because I had never once heard him use the obscenity some of the people who came from the big society let slip once in a while.

I let out a breath, working the knot as gently as I could, so I moved Xander as little as possible. "Why didn't you let me pull him off you?" I asked, not able to keep the bitterness from my voice.

"He would have just whipped you, too. And then probably locked you up."

"I would have taken it."

"I know," Xander said as the rope came free and he fell forward, using his palms to brace himself on the ground. "Whatever I have—"

"That's right." I pulled Xander up to his feet and took his arm and put it around my shoulders, so he could lean on me to walk.

"He got our money. Every cent of it," Xander said, his voice hollow. "The only thing I was able to push out of the way as I reached in was the bag of clothes. I told him there was a nest of snakes that lived under our house and that I couldn't remember which floorboard it was under. That's the only reason he didn't reach in himself. Coward. And hypocrite, he stuffed the rest of the cash in his pocket. I doubt if he's even going to mention it to Hector."

My heart fell at the news that our money was gone. But talking about it was the last thing Xander needed. "Is there a nest of snakes that live under your house?" I asked, trying to distract him as we made our way to the sick tent.

Xander glanced at me. "No. A few mice, but thank the gods they were moving around when Clive was there or else he'd have gotten our clothes, too."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. "What are we gonna do with the clothes, without the money?"

"We're gonna walk out of here, that's what."

I considered that. I thought we might have to, considering how close the date of my wedding to Hannah was, and now that our thievery had been discovered, but it was far from the way we'd originally planned it. Dread settled in my stomach. We'd be leaving with absolutely nothing except the clothes on our backs—clothes that would blend in in normal society, true. So I guessed there was that. I felt like I might be sick.

We got to the sick tent and I helped Xander to one of the clean cots and he lay down on his stomach. There was a small cabinet I knew from being there with Maya over the years that had bandaging supplies. I hoped Mother Willa would arrive soon with the pain medicine she'd given me for my legs, but for now, I'd have to do what I could for Xander.

As I washed his wounds with a cloth and clean water, I talked to distract him. Even so, each time I brought the water to his back, he winced and grimaced.

"Remember that time you gave me chicken pox?" I asked.

Xander snorted. "You gave me chicken pox." He smiled a small smile as I wrung the cloth out, the water turning red.

"And the worst part about it," he continued, "is I only had about six of them and you were covered, and I'm the one who got a scar." He tapped his finger on the small, round divot next to his eyebrow.

I laughed softly, bringing the cloth to his back again. He winced.

"As soon as you're ready to leave the sick tent," I said, "you can do that stupid bird call and we'll meet Eden at the spring. We'll have to wing it." Fear raced down my spine at not being able to guarantee I could keep Eden safe and fed.

"Stupid?" Xander's eyes began to close. "That bird call is perfection. Other nighthawks can't even tell I'm not one of their own."

I chuckled, patting Xander's back dry with a clean cloth.

"Will you go get those clothes, Calder? My parents will be out on the perimeter right now. I think we should keep them in here with us so we don't have to go back there." A sad note came into his voice when he mentioned his parents. I frowned. We were men, but we'd never been away from them a day in our lives. And this would break their hearts. But with what was happening in Acadia, I had to believe it would do everyone good if we'd leave. Of course, Eden was another story altogether.

My thoughts were interrupted when Mother Willa bustled through the door. I stood up. She looked at me and walked to the cot where Xander lay, now drowsing. I nodded at her. She obviously didn't need any instruction.

"Xander, I'm gonna make a trip to the outhouse. I'll be back."

Xander made a soft, half-grunt, half-snore.

As I passed her, Mother Willa grabbed my arm. Her eyes looked misty, unfocused, and something about them sent fear swirling in my belly.

"Go to the far, left corner," she said.

I shook my head. "What?"

"The far, left corner," she said again. "It's the only place where you'll live."

"Live? I . . . what?"

She let go of me and went to Xander who was still snoring.

I walked outside and instead of going to the outhouse, I made a quick detour to Xander's cabin, knocking on the door once. When no one answered, I snuck inside, closing the door behind me. I didn't have to try to guess which floorboard it was. The one Xander used as his storage facility was still out of place. I kneeled down next to it and reached my hand inside. Something skittered by my wrist and I jerked my hand back, grunting in surprised disgust. "Mice. Just mice," I murmured, reaching back inside.

When I was bent in up to my shoulder, my hand hit fabric and I grabbed it and pulled it out. It was a canvas bag, secured at the top with a rope, and obviously full of what would be our getaway clothes. I didn't bother to return the floorboard to its place. Instead I ducked out of the cabin, the bag over my shoulder and walked purposefully back toward the sick tent. When I was almost there, someone grabbed my arm and I dropped the bag and spun around, ready to fight whomever it was off of me.

It was Hannah. She stood in front of me wringing her hands. It looked as if she'd been crying. "Hannah," I breathed out.

"Calder, that was awful." She let out a small cry. "Why did Xander do that? Is he okay?"

I picked up the bag and considered how to answer. "He'll be okay. I need to get back in to check on him. You go on home, all right?"

Her worried, brown eyes blinked at me. "I'm scared, Calder," she whispered. "Something's happening here, and I'm confused. My mom and dad say it's just because the great flood is drawing nearer and more is being asked of us, but . . . it scares me."

I paused, not knowing what to tell her. I cared for Hannah. I'd grown up with her. We'd played together as kids. I didn't love her though, not like that. "Hannah, listen, if anything . . . happens to me, there are, well, you have choices. You don't have to live here all your life if you don't want to."

Her eyes widened. "I want to. I want to marry you, Calder. I want to go to Elysium with you."

I let out a breath, feeling guilty. "I have to get inside. Just . . . just remember what I said, okay?"

She nodded, looking confused and I pulled her toward me, kissing the top of her head. "Okay."

When I got inside the tent, Mother Willa was already gone, but Xander's back was bandaged and he was snoring quietly.

I stuffed the bag under my own cot and lay down next to Xander to rest. I clasped my hands behind my head, dying inside because I couldn't go to Eden right now. I had to believe she was locked safely up in her room, away from Hector. In a couple days, we'd call to her and make our escape. Images swam through my head of Eden climbing out her window, Hector's hand reaching out to grab her, then Eden scaling the roof, falling, the sound of breaking bones barely muffled beneath her screams. I startled awake and looked around wildly. I'd fallen asleep without meaning to. "Just a dream," I whispered, falling back onto the cot.

But then I heard the sound that must have woken me the first time—a faraway nighthawk cry—only this one was strange and imperfect, and in the voice of a female. Eden.

Xander raised his head and looked around dazedly, still lying on his stomach where he'd fallen asleep. He fell back onto the cot, out cold. I remembered what it felt like after Mother Willa had given me the pain powder. I didn't even know my own name, coming to here and there in fits and starts, unable to move or think clearly.

I jumped off my own cot and picked Xander up as gently as I could, trying not to touch his wounded back. He mumbled out some slurred words I couldn't understand and went limp. I hoisted him over my shoulder and bent to pick up the bag of clothes I'd hidden under the bed.

Eden was giving the call that said we needed to leave. Fear surged through my body. Eden would never risk that unless there was something horribly, horribly wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Eden

The spring was bathed in yellow moonlight when I broke through the brush and stood drawing in air in heavy pants, my entire body shaking. Please let Calder and Xander have heard my call.

I dropped the canvas bag I had thankfully been able to grab as I escaped, and wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my hands up and down my goosefleshed skin.

I stood taking deep, calming breaths, trying to get my raging emotions under control. It's safe here. When I heard the footsteps coming through the brush on the other side of the rock wall, I cried out in relief, knowing it could only be Calder and Xander. No one else would be coming toward me to this secret place with such direction and purpose.

Calder burst through the brush, his eyes wild, panting heavily, Xander over his shoulder. Alarm filled me. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, just out cold."

I exhaled heavily. My emotion burst to the surface and I rushed toward him. He lay Xander down gently in the grass and caught me in his arms as I sobbed out his name.

"Shh, Eden, it's okay. I'm here. Tell me what happened. What happened, Morning Glory? What did he do to you?" He held me tight and ran his hand down the back of my hair, whispering the soothing words into my ear.

I had trouble drawing in air as the sobs rose up my chest, the hysteria now finding a safe place to land in Calder's strong arms. "I . . . he . . ." I drew in a big breath, gathering myself together. It wouldn't help any of us if I went stark raving mad. "He found your letters, Calder." I leaned back, looking up at his handsome, worried face with shame and regret. "I'm so sorry. I," I shook my head, "shouldn't have kept them. But I wanted to take them with me when we left. They were mine. They were part of us and I wanted them." More tears coursed down my cheeks.

Calder looked down at me tenderly and used his thumb to wipe the tears off my cheek. "We're all okay. What did he do to you? Tell me."

I shook my head again, trying to move the memory away. "He . . . went crazy." My eyes widened as I pictured Hector's beet-red face, the bulging vein at his temple, his crazed eyes. "After what happened with Xander, I was so upset." I looked down at Xander, snoring quietly on the ground. "I'm so sorry, Xander," I said quietly, knowing he couldn't hear me, but needing to say the words anyway. "You paid the price for all of us."

"He's okay, Eden. Really, he is."

I frowned, looking at Calder for a few beats. I doubted he was really okay. I'd seen his raw, open skin and the look on his face as that whip made contact. But he'd been so brave. He hadn't uttered a single noise. I bit my lip and straightened my spine. "I helped Hailey put the boys to bed and then I went back up to my room and he was there, sitting on my bed reading your letters." Dread filled my chest again, just like it had when I'd walked into my bedroom.

"Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?" Calder asked, his jaw tense and his eyes filling with coldness.

"No. He just kept saying, 'He burns for you? He burns for you? I'll show you how he burns for you.'" I choked back a sob, shuddering with the memory. "He wanted to kill you," I whispered, "and maybe me, too."

"What did you do? How did you get out?" Calder asked icily, running his hands over me as if to prove to himself I was whole.

"He locked me in his office. I dragged the filing cabinet in front of the door and then broke a window with the fireplace poker. They were all banging on the door as I climbed outside. A council member, Ken Wahl, I think, I don't know, came around the outside, but I was already hiding and he didn't see me." I shivered again. Calder blinked at me and then ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head slowly, a small, disbelieving smile on his lips.

"Morning Glory," he muttered.

"I didn't have a choice," I said. "It was that or . . . who knows what. Something bad." I looked up at Calder. "I'm just sorry we have to leave before we're really ready."