Two Sisters, Chapter 10 ~ The Ghost in Her

“Where are you going?” Russ asked.

Marc wavered, looking from door to father, wanting to go, yet finding himself staying put.  “I, um . . . where is she going?”

“Weren’t you paying attention?”

“I was thinking.”  He stuffed his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, but leaned towards the door.

Russ shook his head, as if lamenting to himself that he had such a clueless son.  “She’s offered to find out from the Gates where Elly Ann went.  When she finds out, I’m going to go to look for your sister.”

“We’re going, you mean,” Marc insisted.

Russ sighed.  “I don’t know, Marc.  It might be better if you stayed here.  You’d be safe in Elharan.  Or Varaneshe – I’m sure Adayzjia wouldn’t mind showing you that city.  It’s bigger,” he offered, as if the opportunity to see another city in this world trumped their search for Elly.

“I thought you wanted to keep me close,” Marc argued, trying to appeal to his father’s apparent need to protect him.  “How could I be safer here?”

“There’s no danger to our kind in this world, because Adayzjia is in charge.  I know you would be safe under her care.  I don’t know where Elly Ann’s gone and I don’t want to risk taking you to a dangerous place.”

“Dad, I’m not a little kid anymore,” Marc pleaded.  “I need to know this stuff, Adayzjia said so.”

“And Adayzjia can tell you everything you would ever want to know.”  Russ rubbed a hand across his face wearily.  “You’re only sixteen Marc.  I know you think that makes you old enough –”

“I am old enough.  How old were you the first time you traveled through a Gate?”

Shaking his head, he said, “Twenty.”

“See?  That’s only four years older than me.”

“Four years can make a big difference,” Russ insisted.  “Besides, I almost died . . . a lot.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I was very lucky.  I’ve always been very lucky.  But I’m not going to endanger your life.  Your mother would never forgive me if something happened to you, and I can’t worry about both you and Elly Ann at the same time.”  He took a breath, as if knowing his next words would sting.  “You’ll only slow me down.”

Marc glowered.  Not knowing what to say, he stomped over to the table lined with food.  There was a pitcher of orange juice nestled in a trough of ice, and he decided that he would drink it all.  Marc liked orange juice, it was one of those happy drinks that just made you feel good inside.  A taste of sunshine.  It was even better spiked with vodka, like he’d had it at a friend’s party once, which his parents didn’t know about.  He drank as sullenly as he could manage, his back to his father.  Why was Russ always trying to put him down?  Like when he’d been caught shoplifting at the mall, and his father just yelled at him, berated him, instead of showing some understanding.  Now that he knew they shared the mysterious ability to unlock any lock and open any door, he felt Russ should have been a little less judgmental.  Who knows, maybe his father has stolen stuff too, with an ability like that.  Not that he would ever admit it, if he had.

“Just the fact that you’re sulking proves you’re not old enough,” Russ said to his back.

“I’m not sulking.  I’m just thirsty.”

“You are sulking.  You’re being a sullen, petulant teenager.  But that’s what I’m used to from you, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

If you say “Why can’t you be more like Eric?” I’m going to run away and you’ll have to look for both me and Elly, he thought darkly.  Neither of his parents had ever said that to him, not exactly, but it was an unspoken wish that was often written on their faces and flowed in the undercurrent of their words.  Eric was always upbeat, never angry or frustrated by his life, and why not?  He was fifteen years old and a fucking sports star.  But then he wasn’t a Key.  Marc could sense as much; the fact that Eric had dismissed Leeton’s book as some kind of “nerd” book, refusing to believe it was anything other than some weird piece of fantasy fiction, told him that he and Eric were nothing alike.  Not really.  He loved his brother, of course, but he didn’t want to be like him.  He never really had, even if Eric always seemed so much happier.

“I just don’t understand why you always want to stop me from being who I am,” he said, feeling a little sick now that the pitcher of juice was almost empty.

“Don’t be so overdramatic.  I don’t want you to die.  That’s it.  There’s a very real chance that you could die, and I can’t have that happen.”

Marc didn’t respond.  He returned to his plate of food at the table.  It had all gone cold by then; the eggs were gelatinous, the meats dry, even the pudding had a thin film on the top.  But he avoided further conversation with his father by stuffing it in his mouth angrily.  He could feel Russ watching him with a grimace of disgust, but that only made him more determined to shovel it in with wrath and relish. 

When Adayzjia reentered he choked a little, but valiantly swallowed hard a couple times, until the urge to cough subsided.  He didn’t want to spew food all over the table.  What would she think of him?

Russ merely blinked at her as he stood.  “That was fast,” he said.

“Indeed,” Adayzjia agreed, with labored breathing as if she’d just finished an invigorating run.  Marc caught himself staring at her heaving bosom and looked away guiltily.  Was it right to find those inhumanly white breasts a little arousing?  They were nice, after all, just as nice as any girl’s, even though Adayzjia had claimed to be thousands of years old.  Thousand year old boobs . . . that was just . . . weird.

“Did you find out where she went?”

His father’s question snapped him out of it, and he blushed guiltily, lifting his eyes to her face.  He followed Russ’s example and stood as well; he wondered if his father stood out of good manners or so he didn’t have to look so far up to see her.

“Yes.”  Adayzjia nodded.  “I know where you daughter has gone.”

She let this pronouncement dangle portentously in the air, and Russ was forced to say,  “Well?” after a moment of prolonged silence.

“A land called Meiria,” she intoned, spreading out her hands with a regal flourish.  Marc thought there was something especially odd about her, at that moment, though it was hard to explain why, since everything about her had been bizarre up to that point.  “Unfortunately,” she continued, lowering her hands, “I know of this world, and I must warn you that it is very dangerous, very inhospitable for Keys such as yourself.”

Russ gave Marc a pointed look, with “I told you so” written all over it.  “Why would she go there?” he asked.

“I do not know,” Adayzjia said, her luminous eyes wide with puzzlement.  “The Gate she passed through did not know anything about her besides noting that she was a very strange being, two souls in one body.”

Russ nodded.  “I have to go there, right away.  Do you mind if I take some food and water?”

“Of course not.  You will need your strength, and I would caution against interacting with the locals too much.  As I said, it is very dangerous for Keys there.”

“Right.  Can I ask another favor?”

She nodded.

“I need to leave my son behind with you.  It’s too dangerous to let him come along with me; his mother would never forgive me if anything happened to him.”

Marc dropped back into the chair and stared daggers at his father, but they made no impact.

“Certainly.  He won’t be any trouble at all.”  Adayzjia smiled at him, and he felt uneasy.

“Good.  Thank you, Adayzjia.  For everything.”

She nodded again, this time with a gracious half bow.  She looked very queenly.  Russ seemed to think the same thing, because he returned the bow . . . though when he did it, it made him look awkward and out of place.  When he straightened he turned to Marc.  “Marc, I know you’re upset, but I’m not just doing this in order to keep you down, or whatever it is you think.  I promise I will show you more otherworlds, one day.  Worlds that I’ve been to before.”  He paused, then said with obvious embarrassment, “I love you.  I need to keep you safe.”

Marc wanted to say something, and worked his mouth noncommittally for a moment or two, but he settled on silence.

“If I don’t return in . . . a week . . . I want you to go back home.  Do you think you can find your way back?”

Marc shifted in his seat, and looked away.  Truth be told, he really didn’t think he could.  There was no direct Gate between his homeworld and Alisiya.  They had walked along the Silver Road, taking many different branches, before they ended up in this world.  His father seemed to know the right paths to take, but Marc had been completely confused.  The vast amounts of awe he’d been feeling at the time didn’t help, either.  It was like walking through a fractal; the road seemed to stretch out straight in front of them with branches on every side, and when they turned down one branch, it became the main road, looking exactly like the one they had just been on, with little branches flowing out on all sides.  There were no signs, no landmarks, nothing but the endless web of roads.

He nodded, though.  “Yeah.”

“Good.  If I’m not back in a week it’ll mean something bad has happened, and I need you to go back to your mother.  If you don’t go back she’ll just have to spend the rest of her life wondering.  And Eric and Hollie will never know either.  You have to go back.”

Marc turned back, fixing his father with a betrayed look.  “So we can all sit around wondering what happened to you?”

“It’s better that one of us returns than neither,” Russ insisted.  “If you want to be a man, you have to do things for your family that you don’t want to do.  Why do you think I haven’t stepped through a Gate in ten years, before now?  It’s not all fun and games in the otherworlds, Marcus.  Now promise me that if I don’t return, you’ll go home.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

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