David
David led the way through the heavily forested hills for more than an hour before emerging onto a flat terrain of farmlands, pastures, and scattered clusters of woodlands. In the distance, a road cut through the landscape. State Road 421. But how far away were they from the Conroy’s barn?
He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed in their address the best he could remember. The map showed they weren’t far away, maybe a twenty-minute hike to the north.
“What is that contraption?” Eric asked.
“It’s a cell phone. You talk to people with it, play games. Even find cars in barns.” He shared a smile with Charlotte.
“May I see it?” Eric asked.
David shook his head. “Not just yet. I don’t want to lose my GPS. When we get where we’re going, I’ll let you check it out, okay?”
And in that instant, he sounded like Lily did when he was five years old. He’d have to work on that.
“Agreed,” Eric replied. “What does this car of yours look like?”
“It’s a black ’67 Mustang GT500, not that that means anything to you, but in my world, it’s a big deal. There were only a handful of these models made, so it’s sort of a rarity. You’ll flip out when you see it. It’s sleek and rumbles like a—”
David’s words froze in his throat. He crumpled to his knees and clutched his chest.
Pain.
Burning, horrific pain.
“David!” Charlotte dropped beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“I … don’t … know. Hot … in my chest.”
“Eric, help me get his shirt off!”
Fabric flew from David’s body. Cool air brushed his skin, but not cool enough. The agony.
“What … is … it? What’s … wrong … with me?”
Charlotte shook her head. “The rutseer. It’s glowing red like fire. So is your tattoo!” She reached for the pendent.
“No!” Eric smacked her hand out of the way. “It might burn you.”
Eric gathered David’s shirt and slid it between the Eye and the tattoo. In an instant, the rutseer cooled to a dark red, and David began to breathe.
He lay there, his chest rising and falling, his hand clasped around the pendent, his eyes focused on a cloud that changed from a rabbit to a cat to the makings of whatever his imagination came up with next.
“Are you better?” Eric asked.
David nodded. “That was wicked painful. I can’t even begin to describe it. It felt like someone set my body on fire.”
“I think maybe somebody did,” Eric said.
“What?” David’s heart skipped. He dared not move.
“I think Seyekrad’s trying to find you. If you had removed the Eye, I think he would have succeeded.”
Charlotte gasped and stood. “You can’t mean that?”
Eric nodded. “I do. Seyekrad wants the Eye. He needs it or the crystals are worthless. The thing is, he can’t find David. There’s something about that rutseer that makes him blind to us, and if I were him, I’d be desperate about now, trying anything I could to make David reveal it. What better way than causing so much pain that it would force him to remove it?”
David sat up and stared at Eric. “How do you come up with this stuff? I mean, it makes total sense, but I am in awe that you thought of it.”
Eric gave David a wan smile. “I had a friend once who saw life through a menagerie of colors. He believed all experiences were nothing more than puzzle pieces that needed to be sorted and put together to make the final big picture. All we needed to do was get out of our own way and open our minds to see it. The more I follow his thinking, the more I think he’s right.”
Eric stood and offered David a hand. “Make sure you wear that garish thing on the outside of your shirt until we can find something to wrap it with.”
David clasped Eric’s hand and pulled to his feet. “No problem. Trust me. I don’t want a repeat.” He bent over, allowing the pendent to hang away from his body, and pulled the t-shirt over his head, ensuring the necklace remained outside, away from his skin. He straightened and took his phone from Charlotte. “Thank you. Both of you,” he said. “I’m sorry for being such a pain.”
“Don’t apologize,” Eric said. “The day you aren’t a pain I’ll know there is something terribly wrong with you.”
“You’ve got that straight.” David smiled, took a deep breath and exhaled. “Are we ready?”
David referred to the GPS one more time and started walking. Behind him, Eric apologized for smacking Charlotte’s hand, and she forgave him. They started talking about many things, including Eric’s friend, Sestian. Some recollections were funny, others sad, and while David enjoyed the stories and the companionship, an ache gnawed at his heart. Charlotte was bonding with Eric, whether she knew it or not. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame her. He was a good-looking guy as guys went, smart, and he oozed charm and class. He was perfect in every way. A prince. Literally.
But Eric would break her heart. It was inevitable. There’s no way he would move to Havendale, and he was pretty sure Charlotte would never agree to stay in Fallhollow, which meant he’d have to stand by and help mend the broken pieces when the fairytale fell apart. It tore at his soul to think of her miserable. He saw the way she was when her brother, Daniel, died. The heartache was unbearable to watch. There were no words to dissolve the pain. There was nothing he could offer to fill the void. That kind of hurt never goes away. It only gets covered up with layers of emotional bandages until one learns how to block it out. Until one learns not to feel.
He didn’t want Charlotte to stop feeling. But what could he do? They were just friends. It was official. He’d made it so. She would have to sort her feelings on her own, and he would have to watch and wait.
Idiot.
He glanced at the map on his phone again and stopped. “We’re here,” he said, pointing to a large red barn on a parcel of land partitioned off by a white wood fence.
They ran across the yard toward the structure. A cow hung his head over the planks and mooed. David slid open the door and froze, his mouth wide open.
Charlotte came around his right side and gasped.
“It’s blue,” she said.
David linked his fingers behind his head. “Silver blue,” he said, his throat as dry as a sandbox. He shook out his arms. “It’s okay. It can be fixed.”
Eric leaned in toward Charlotte. “I thought he said it was black.”
“It was,” she replied. “Lily must have changed it.”
“License plate’s been changed, too,” David said, walking around his car. He stopped and stared at it, his palms pressed to the sides of his head. “Why, Lily? Of all the colors in the world, why this one?”
“I think it looks nice,” Eric said.
David’s brow creased. His eyes narrowed. His lips pursed. “Of course, you’d think it looks nice. You didn’t see it before. It was sick. Now it’s, it’s … freaking blue!”
“Why is that so upsetting?” Eric asked. “Is it no longer useable?”
“Of course, it’s useable. Paint color doesn’t change that, but for crying out loud. It’s a ’67 Shelby GT500. There’s a 428 V-8 engine under that hood. That’s three hundred and fifty-five horsepower. You don’t paint something that powerful blue. It would be like painting your sword green. It defies logic. Speaking of which,” he unlocked the trunk and raised it into the air, “put your sword back here. You can’t have it up front.” He tossed his bow and quiver inside.
“But I never travel on the road without my sword. What if we stumble upon bandits?”
“We won’t, but if we do, knock them out with that glowing smile.”
“I fail to see how my smile can be seen as a—”
“Oh my god! Just put your sword in the back. Please.”
Eric removed his weapon and set it beside the bow. “I’m going to ignore your temper seeing as you are upset about your—”
“Car. It’s a car.”
“Yes. I know. But if it doesn’t affect its performance, I say we get in it and go to Charlotte’s grandfather’s.”
“You’re right,” David said, scratching the back of his head. “You’re absolutely right. She probably did it so no one would recognize it. She was only trying to help. I’ll stop being a dick now.”
“What’s a dick?” Eric asked.
“Never mind,” Charlotte said. “Just get in the car before David can teach you more bad language.”
“Yeah, you do that.” David’s gaze swept over the car again and his face cringed. “Why blue? What’s wrong with red?”
“Too conspicuous,” Charlotte said. “Eric, you sit up front. More leg room. I’ll hop in the back.” She opened the driver door, leaned the seat forward, and got in. “Come on, David. Stop whining about your car and let’s roll.”
Eric watched the way David got in on his side and slid in the same way.
“If you’re knees are too far up, reach under your seat,” David said. “You’ll find a lever. Slide it to your right and it’ll slide the seat back.”
Eric felt around, found the mechanism, and pulled. His breath hitched as the seat moved back.
Charlotte laughed. “You okay there?”
Eric let out a long breath and gulped. “Yes. I think so. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Now you know,” Charlotte said, leaning over the seat, her voice in his ear. “Now lean forward and close the door.”
Sweat popped out on his forehead as he slammed the door closed. The color left his face.
“What’s the matter there?” David asked. “You don’t look like you’re feeling good.”
“To tell the truth, I am not. I’m very much confined. My heart feels as if it will dart from my chest and run off without me. I don’t know if I can do this, David.” He gripped the armrest, his knuckles white.
“Try not to think about it. First times are always scary.” David inserted the key into the ignition and turned it. The beast roared to life.
A startled cry flew from Eric’s mouth as the Mustang rumbled beneath them. He pressed his head to the headrest, his eyes closed.
“I can’t do this, David. I simply can’t. Please turn it off. Let me out. One or the other, perhaps both. The vibrations are rattling my bones, my insides. I can’t breathe and pains are going down my arms.”
“Oh my god, you’re having a panic attack.” David turned the key and the engine fell quiet. He jumped out of the car and ran to Eric’s side and opened the door. “Get out. Come on.”
Eric clambered from the car and spaced himself from the car about ten feet. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I don’t know what happened. I felt as if I was going to die.”
“It’s a panic attack,” David said. “I should have thought about it. All of this must seem so insane to you, but I can assure you, I know how to drive it and I won’t kill you. If there was another way to get us to Kingsport, we’d take it, but there’s not. Tell you what. How about you wait here, I’ll go turn the car on, and you can just stand here for a bit and listen to it until you get used to the noise, okay? Baby steps.”
Eric glanced at the car.
“It’ll be okay,” Charlotte soothed. “I promise.”
He looked at her, his face ashen. “There is no other way to your grandfather’s? No horse and cart? No carriage?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Welcome to the 21st century.”
Eric glanced back at the car, his expression pinched. “I suppose if there is no other way.” He didn’t sound convincing.
David hopped back in and started the car only to look over the hood to find Eric in Charlotte’s arms, her head sideways on his chest as she spouted consoling words.
Great. How freaking cozy. I leave them alone for two seconds. Two, and he’s already got her all wound up in his charms. I bet he’s lovin’ every minute of this. Agghhh! He pounded the steering wheel. You’re such an idiot! You can’t blame them. This is your doing. You were the one who let her go. You all but said right in front of him that she was free. What was he supposed to do? Play tiddlywinks all the way to town, as Lily used to say? Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it! There’s nothing left to do than grow a pair. Be a man. Take the hit and keep going. Find your happy spot, bud. Come on. Cool it down.
He ran his fingers through his hair, counted to ten and took some deep breaths. He had to focus. They had to get to Kingsport. It was time to go.
He got out and walked over to the two of them as they untangled themselves from each other’s arms.
“I think he’s ready to go,” Charlotte said. “I gave him some pointers like how to breathe his way through the attacks if he feels them coming on again. He’s willing to try.” She looked over her shoulder at Eric. “Are you ready?”
Eric sucked in a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He patted David’s shoulder as he passed and murmured, “Thank you for not getting angry.”
David groaned to himself. Can anyone say dickhead? “No problem,” is what fell from his mouth. He really needed to work on his personal skills.
Once they were all back in the car Charlotte reached around the seat and touched Eric’s arm. “You’ve got this,” she soothed. “David’s a good driver. All you have to do is relax and enjoy the ride, okay?”
Eric pressed the back of his head to the seat and nodded.
“Okay,” David said. “As a heads up, you’re going to feel a little power when we back up, and when we go. Don’t freak out because that’s the way this car sounds and feels. It’s got a big engine. It’s going to rumble and go fast. Ready?”
Eric sucked in a deep breath and clasped Charlotte’s hand. “Yes. I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
David reached over and rolled Eric’s window down. “There. That should help. If you start to feel sick, tell me and I’ll pull over so you can hurl outside the car. Deal? No puking in the car.”
He backed the car out of the barn at a snail’s pace. Slow and steady. He shifted into first and shot a sideways glance at Eric. So far so good.
Little by little he accelerated and with each bit of pressure step on the pedal, the black-now-blue beast grew louder and louder. He turned left onto 421, the cool air whipping through the car. They were on their way. In less than an hour, they’d arrive at Charlotte’s grandpa’s.
As the metal beast flew down the road, Eric wished aloud they could ferry.
It was the first time David ever heard him say that. It would also probably be the last.