5

I dropped the Death Warrant and stumbled backward. I nearly fell down the steps but as soon as I felt the cobblestones beneath my feet, I ran. I ran blindly, not really caring where my feet took me, as long as I was moving away from the Death Warrant. I ran and ran. I ran until my knees were screaming at me to stop and still I ran on. I ran until my lungs were burning; yet on I ran. Before I knew it, I was running under the sign that marked the beginning of my family’s property. Not long after that, I found myself face to face with Remington. I was out of breath and fighting back sobs.

            I couldn’t believe it. Someone on this godforsaken continent actually wanted me dead. The dumbass probably didn’t care that I had two siblings who depended on me for pretty much everything.

            Remington must have sensed my agitation because when I turned he was staring at me with his unfathomably deep brown eyes. I stumbled backward and ran into Zazi. I stifled a scream and stumbled back to Remington.

“Whoa. Kitty are you ok?” Zazi asked.

“Does it look like I’m ok, Zazi?” I snapped.

“You know, Kitty, I can’t read you like I used to!” Zazi snapped.

“My God,” I muttered.

Staring at Remington, a memory rose unbidden to mind.

            I was 11 or 12, and it was the first time Zazi had been out since I had been training him. He was cooking lunch so I went to the creek to wash up. I wanted space because I was mad we hadn’t been able to capture a mustang. However, I knew this was normal for a first time mustang hunter but my family now depended solely on capturing, training, and selling these horses. I had been staring into the creek trying to calm my anger when I saw the reflection of a horse in the water not far from where I was. I looked up and found myself staring at a small, black colt. The colt was obviously weaned but small for his age. I sat back on my heels, slowly. But at that moment, Zazi came crashing through the bushes. The colt spooked and reared. As he came down, his hoof caught my face. It carved a path from just above my left eyebrow almost to my chin. Zazi only saw the colt’s mother, who was barreling straight toward him. That was the first mustang Zazi caught, the black colt’s mother. He looked at me, but I turned my face away so he wouldn’t have to see the consequences of his carelessness.

“Aren’t you proud of me?” he’d demanded.

“Of course I am,” I’d replied. “I just don’t want to show any emotion that might spook the horse.”

“You can’t even look at her?” he’d asked.

“Oh, believe me I’ve seen her,” I’d snapped. “What will you call her?”

“Fire and Ice,” he’d instantly replied.

            I whistled for my horse, which came in seconds, and told Zazi to take her back to my ranch alone and that I had somewhere I needed to be. I mounted one-handed, since the other hand was clamped firmly on my torn face to stem the flow of blood and hold my face together. He asked where I was going and I merely told him I hadn’t the time to explain; at least I wasn’t lying to him. I turned and spurred my horse into a gallop. We were heading in the direction of the home of the old Navajo Medicine Woman. By the time I got there, I was fading into unconsciousness and was unable to tell her much about why my face looked like it did and how it had gotten that way in the first place. I barely felt the bone needle she used to stitch my face together.

            When I woke the next day, the Medicine Woman said I would have a scar even though she’d done everything she could to prevent my skin from scarring. I told her I didn’t mind scars and then proceeded to tell her the story behind the gash on my face. After I’d finished, she refused to let me leave her sight, let alone her house, until she was sure there were no signs of infection. When Zazi saw me, he just stared at the sown up gash on my face. I berated him for being so boisterous when mustangs could have been in the area. He said nothing and just continued to stare at the gash on my face.

            When the memory faded, I stumbled back into Zazi.

“It can’t be,” I gasped.

“What can’t be?” Zazi asked dryly as he steadied me.

“You were the black colt by the creek that day,” I said ignoring Zazi. “You gave me this scar so I’d always remember you, didn’t you?”

“Kitty, you are talking to a horse,” Zazi said.

“Not just any horse,” I snapped. “The black horse from my nightmare. The one whose mother you caught the day I got this scar!”

“I didn’t see another horse that day,” Zazi said.

“Because you weren’t looking in the shadows,” I told him.

“When you came back, you yelled at me for an hour.”

“Because I had told you that loud noises would scare the mustangs so we had to tread quietly in case there were any around. Did you even hear what I said?”

“No, I couldn’t take my eyes off the gash on your face. You never told me how you got that gash in the first place.”

“There was a black colt hidden in the shadows. When you came crashing through the bushes he spooked and reared. His hoof caught me in my face. That’s why I didn’t look at you. I didn’t want to ruin your first capture.”

I fought back a sob, as images of the Death Warrant swam before my eyes again. I collapsed to my knees as the gravity of my situation finally hit home.

6

            Zazi knelt beside me and grabbed me by the shoulders. He turned me to face him.

“Kitty, what’s the matter?”

“Somebody wants me dead, Zazi.”

Zazi’s eyes grew wide and his hands fell to his sides.

“What are you going to do?”

I stood up and went to the corral. I grabbed the halter from the hook and went inside.

“I have to run,” I said haltering Remington.

“Then we’ll go together,” Zazi said as I led Remington out of the corral.

“No we won’t, Zazi,” I said as we walked to the house. “I have to go alone. If you or the twins got hurt because of me, I’d never forgive myself.”

I tied Remington to the hitching post at the house and went inside.

“I need you to take care of the twins for me.”

“You know I’ll look after them; that you don’t even have to ask.”

“I don’t want them to know what the paper said or why I left. Just let them know that as long as my letters keep coming I am alive.”

I pulled out a rucksack and a backpack and began filling them with all the things I’d need.

“Pack anything you need,” Zazi told me. “I’ll replace anything you take before the twins get back.”

He turned me to face him. I could see the tears in his blue-grey eyes and as he kissed my forehead I felt them drip onto my cheeks. He didn’t move away after he kissed my forehead and for a while we just stood there. Then he smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do for forever,” he said.

“And what is that?” I asked.

“It’s something I have to show you,” Zazi said.

“Then show me,” I demanded.

Zazi tilted my chin up and kissed me. At first, the kiss was soft but when his hand made its way to the back of my neck it became more insistent and demanding. For a while, I just let him kiss me. But I couldn’t let him kiss me forever, not when I had to finish packing. So, I broke the kiss and resumed my preparations.

“Kat, don’t do this,” Zazi pleaded.

I stopped packing and turn back to him.

“I have to Zazi. Trust me when I say I will not let these bastards kill me.”

“Kat….”

I put my finger on his lips to silence him long enough so he could listen to my next words.

“Listen to me, Anasazi. I will send two letters when I can, one for you and one for the twins. Yours will always contain my current location and my next destination. You are to tell no one where I am or where I am going. You are to either lock your letters away or burn them. No one but you can see them. Understood?”

Zazi nodded and I returned to my packing.

“But what do I tell your Uncle Zahar?”

“Nothing. You tell my Uncle Zahar nothing. His mind has gotten worse since Xavis’ death. He seems to have gone back in his mind to a time when the entire family was alive. Don’t you dare shatter his illusion!”

By then I had finished my packing but there was one more thing I needed. I went into my parents’ room, which looked the same as it did the day they died eight years ago, and rummaged around in the closet. It took a while to find but once I found it, I was ready to leave.

Outside, Remington stood fairly quietly at the hitching post. I hadn’t expected him to be so cooperative with me especially since he had just been brought in today. It seemed he had been captured once before and somewhat tamed but I didn’t think that to be the case. More than likely he simply trusted me not to hurt him since I didn’t that day at the creek. I put my musings aside and went to saddle him, but as soon as the saddle touched his back he began to buck. I began to sing to him praying it would calm him. It did. As soon as Remington was saddled and my things tied to the saddle horn, I turned back to Zazi. Before I could say a word he trapped me in a cage made of him, his arms, and Remington. I looked up at him and as soon as I did he kissed me, again. This time it was more demanding than the last, but at the same time it was pleading for me to stay. At first, I tried to resist but that only made him more demanding. So, I stopped resisting and melted into him. One of his hands tilted my head back, making me open my mouth wider and allowing enough space for his tongue to slip into my mouth. I let my arms snake around his neck and my hands tangle in his dark tresses, bringing his face closer to mine if that was at all possible. Our tongues were dancing in and out, tangling and untangling. It was only when I felt his tears upon my face that I pulled away.

“Please, please don’t cry,” I pleaded wiping away his tears.

“I can’t help it, Kat, I’m losing you,” he cried.

“Zazi, look at me,” I told him taking his face between my hands. “The Basin is my home. I will always return home. Just be looking to the horizon and one day I will be there, I promise.”

I kissed him again and mounted Remington. I was about to turn Remington toward the Sierra Nevada’s when I felt Zazi’s hand on my leg. I looked down at him.

“Wait, there’s something you need,” he said before disappearing.

When he came back, he was holding one of the largest, most deadly looking bows I’d ever seen.

“Your brother had this made for you. It’s carbon fiber with a synthetic catgut string. The arrows are steel tipped carbon fiber. He had them specially made in Madrid for your quinceañera, which he never got to see. He’d want you to have them regardless of the circumstances.”

I stared at the bow and quiver. Both were simple in design but their simplicity made them all that more deadly. The fact that both the bow and the arrows were carbon fiber meant that they were not only incredibly lightweight but exorbitantly expensive items. I took them in stunned silence.

“There are two built in scimitars in the bow. There’s a release button in the center just below the grip.”

I nodded, stilled too stunned to speak.

“You’d best go, Kat.”

“I know.”

I turned Remington toward the mountains and spurred him into a gallop.

I could have sworn Zazi said something else to me but the wind in my ears carried it away.

7

            By the time I reached the Canadian Rockies, winter was approaching, fast. I had to get as far up into their peaks as I could before the first snow fell. If I didn’t, I’d be trapped on the exposed, empty plain between the nearest town and the slopes of the Rockies. Traipsing through these mountains was no easy task, not to mention dangerous. But it was one of the most necessary tasks I had to complete before I could begin to relax and wait out the winter.

            Once in the mountains, I found a cave that would serve as my home for the next several months. After I found this cave, I went back down the mountain a ways. It was further than I had intended to go, but it was the closest place to my cave. When I first met the owner of the homestead, he ordered me away. Upon explaining that all I wanted to do was trade for a few things and afterwards he’d never see me again, he was a little nicer but still suspicious. When his wife saw me, and I must have been quite a sight to see, she scolded him sternly and invited me in. I placed the meat of my last kill on the table. She waved me off saying they always had plenty these days.

“I’m not looking for charity,” I told her.

“Good, because you won’t find any on the other side of these mountains,” she replied.

“I intend to pay for what you give me,” I said. “One way or another I will pay you back.”

“No you won’t,” she laughed. “These are my gifts to you.”

She handed me a large bag.

“Food enough for the winter and you’ll need hay I suppose. Sam, give the girl some hay.”

The man disappeared. The woman disappeared then returned with a smaller bag.

“These clothes should fit you. They fit her when she was your age.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Our daughter,” she answered sadly. “She was shot because she spoke out about a boy who was unfairly killed for asking a question on Conversion Day a few years ago.”

“Six years ago,” I said.

“How did you know it was six years ago?”

“I was there.”

“You’re from the Basin?”

“Yes, and the boy was my 13 year old brother.”

“It’s getting dark, Roxanne. You’d best let the girl be on her way.”

“Yes, I’d better go. Keep the meat, it makes great jerky.”

I left the house and made my way back up the mountain. Darkness was just setting in when I reached my cave. I built up a fire and cooked some of the food Roxanne had given me. After eating, I pulled out pen and paper.

My dearest brother and sister, I wrote.

            I know that you probably hate me for leaving you the way I did. I don’t blame you. I’d hate me too if I were in your shoes. I wish things weren’t like this. That I didn’t have to run to save us all. That I could tell the both of you the truth about why I left, but wishing accomplishes nothing. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you the truth about why I left, but until that day comes the two of you will have to stay in the dark. I’m sorry but it’s the only way I can keep the two of you safe. And if either of you tell Uncle Zahar that I’m gone, I swear the day I get back I’ll strangle you.

                                                            Your loving sister,

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

                                                            Kitty

After addressing the letter, I set it aside and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper so I could write to Zazi.

Zazi,

            I’ve made it to the Canadian Rockies. I’ll stay here for the winter and as soon as spring arrives I’ll be heading to the outskirts of Vancouver. From there, I’ll go to Mongolia or maybe Lebanon. Don’t write to the address that is going to be on this letter. The couple is nice, but the man is suspicious. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.

                                                            Kitty

I folded the letter and addressed it. I set it atop the other and wrapped myself up in furs. I lay down on the stone floor of the cave and waited for sleep to come. But it didn’t. So, I reached in my backpack and pulled out one of the oldest things I owned. It was a music player; I believe my mother told me that in the century of its birth it was called an iPod. Whatever it was called, it contained music and I liked it. As soon as the music hit my ears, I began to drift off. In my dreams, I was haunted by memories of Zazi and home. It had been two months since I ran from the stage on Conversion Day and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think and dream of home. Though memories of Zazi and home haunted my dreams every night, I still managed to sleep. Unfortunately, I had no idea what the fates had in store for me.

            Watery early winter light filtered through the tree canopy and into my cave, drawing me from my dreams of home. I decided hunting was the best way for me to forget my dreams, so I grabbed my bow and quiver and went into the forest. I brought down birds, most of a species I’d never seen before but food was food and the feathers would make a nice bed. I took my kills back to my cave, where I plucked the feathers and stored them in the small bag that contained the clothes Roxanne had given me. When I finished that I skewered the birds and set them over my fire to cook. While the meat was cooking, I pulled out two of the medium sized pelts that I had kept and began sewing them together with catgut to make a mattress. I had been working for nearly an hour when something made me look up. Footsteps. Someone was coming up the mountainside. I set aside my work and picked up my bow and quiver. I made my way to the entrance of the cave, an arrow nocked on the string of my bow.

“Show yourself or I’ll send an arrow through your heart,” I commanded.

“Relax child,” Sam said walking from the shadows.

“You’re not alone,” I said remaining where I was.

“True, that I am not,” Sam replied. “Colby, Clayton, Robert, don’t frighten the poor girl more than necessary.”

“She doesn’t look scared to me,” a boy said materializing from the shadows.

“She’s a lot prettier than you said she was grandpa,” another said coming to stand by his brother, followed by a third.

I turned to Sam.

“Why are you here?” I asked. “It’s not safe for these boys or you to be here.”

As if to prove my point, an arrow came whizzing out of the trees right towards the boys. I shoved the boys out of the way just in the nick of time. The arrow hit my shoulder with such force that it knocked me on my ass. But I got up and ran for the trees bow in hand. Once in the trees, I slowed so I was able to track the shadow moving through the treetops. I raised my bow; the arrow was still nocked from earlier, thankfully, and pulled back on the string. I waited for the shadow to jump between trees before I fired. His hands never touched the second tree and he fell with a muffled thud and a cry of pain. I ran to him.

“Who sent you?” I demanded.

“Why would I tell you?” he countered.

“Because I am the one who controls how much pain you are in from one moment to the next,” I replied pulling a knife from inside my boot and slammed it down mere millimeters from his face.

To prove my point, I twisted the arrow in his leg.

“You know, I could take this arrow out and watch your sorry ass bleed to death,” I told him. “Who sent you?”

“I’m not telling a power hungry bitch like you.”

“Too bad I have to do this, then.”

I twisted the arrow again, harder this time.

“You gonna tell me now?”

The man said nothing. I twisted the arrow again.

“You know if you survive this ‘power hungry bitch,’ as you put it, that’ll be one hell of a scar.”

“Just another one in the collection.”

“Now, I’m going to ask one more time. Who sent you?”

“You’d like to know wouldn’t you?”

“Wrong answer.”

I jerked the arrow from my shoulder and slammed it into his chest, just shy of his heart.

“Tell me or move and risk tearing open your heart.”

“O’Malley. Now kill me.”

“No, I think I’ll leave you pinned here as an example. But first, I’ll have to remove your tongue.”

The man jerked so violently that the arrow in his chest slipped from my hand and sliced into his heart. He was dead within a minute. I removed the arrows from his corpse and stumbled back toward the cave. I didn’t realize I was bleeding badly from the arrow wound in my shoulder until my feet gave out at the edge of the woods by the cave. I was too weak to call out to Sam, who stood in the clearing with his three grandsons. Unconsciousness was quickly claiming me and I didn’t know if I’d make it down the mountain to Sam and Roxanne’s homestead. The last thing I remember was the feeling that the forest was closing in on me.

8

            I faded in and out of consciousness for several days before I fully regained consciousness. When I woke, I found myself in a bed in a house. A boy of about 8 years of age sat in a chair by the bed. The first thing I noticed, aside from being in a house in bed and the boy, was the searing pain in my shoulder. The second was that I had somehow made it to Sam and Roxanne’s house.

            The door opened suddenly, causing me to sit bolt upright despite the pain I was experiencing in my shoulder. Roxanne entered with a tray of food.

“Feeling better, dear?” she asked setting the tray down.

“Yeah,” I said my eyes returning to the boy by my bedside.

“Oh don’t mind Robert,” Roxanne told me loading a plate with food.

“Does he speak?” I asked.

“Not for a while,” Roxanne replied handing me the plate. “After his mother died, he fell silent. He hasn’t said a word since.”

“At least you still have your dad,” I told the boy. “I lost both of my parents when I was 8. Actually, the day was my eighth birthday. Wanna know a secret?”

The boy nodded.

“The day I lost my parents,” I said. “The explosion that killed them almost killed me too.”

Robert’s eyes got wide.

“My older brother died two years later,” I smiled sadly. “He was shot for publicly refusing to restate his faith. And now I’m on the run so I can protect my little brother and sister, who aren’t much older than you. Compared to me, you have a good life. Your friends may not think so but their opinions don’t really matter. Especially if you’re happy.”

“Child……”

“Please call me Kitty. I haven’t been a child since I was 8. I’ve had to give up my childhood so my family could survive. I may be only 16 but I’m wise for my years.”

“Kitty,” it was Robert who spoke. “You saved me and my brothers. Why?”

“That arrow was meant for me, regardless of which one of you it would have hit. That man was there for me. Killing one of you as well as me would have just been collateral damage. It was my fault you were in danger in the first place. I knew that a Death Warrant would mean trouble; I just didn’t know it would come so soon.”

“You could have run,” Robert said.

“I could have but in less than three weeks I’d be snowed in and exposed on the mountain slopes. I’d have caught my death had I run.”

Before I knew what had happened, Robert’s arms were wrapped around me. I returned the embrace, stunned.

“You are the Black Flame,” he whispered in my ear. “The longer you deny it, the more bad things will happen to you. Accept who you are; you can’t change it.”

When Robert released me, the pain of my wound lessened then faded all together.

“Kitty, you have worked a miracle today,” Roxanne said making the sign of the cross.

“I am neither God, nor Jesus, nor do I have the power to perform miracles and it’d be best if you kept that in mind,” I said quietly. “I’m only human.”

“Of course you are dear,” Roxanne said patting my arm. “You were very brave to take the arrow for my grandsons.”

“It was meant for me anyway.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Did you catch the person who shot at you?”

I shook my head and looked away. I didn’t want the kind, generous Roxanne to know what I’d had to do to the man to get information out of him. At the same moment, I realized I had become a monster just to get information.

“Please let me rest, Roxanne. I fear I haven’t quite regained my strength.”

Roxanne nodded and silently left the room. As soon as she shut the door, hot tears began to make their way down my cheeks. I curled up on my side and let them come. That was when I knew I’d never be the girl who left the Basin again.

            Sometime later, the door opened. I glanced up from my pillows. Robert pushed his two brothers towards me.

“Robert, what’s this?” I asked fighting back more tears.

“Just watch and be amazed,” Robert told me with a sly smile.

Colby and Clayton began dancing around Robert. They were wrapping him in strips of linen, like those mummies at the museums. Then in a puff of smoke the linen fell away and a young man stood before me. He was in his early 20s with silvery-blonde curls and liquid topaz eyes. Judging by his similarity to Colby and Clayton, the man was either their older brother or their father.

“The boys insisted I make a grand entrance,” he said.

“And why is that?” I asked drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

“They said you took an arrow for them,” he said stepping around Colby and Clayton.

“Yeah, I took an arrow for them. But it’s not as if I’m not used to getting beat up. When you work with mustangs for a living, it’s part of the job. This scar is from my horse.”

“Is she always like this?” he asked the boys.

“Oh my God! Nightmare has been left alone all this time. This is not good! I have to get up and check on him!”

I swung my legs out of bed and stood up. That’s when I realized just how weak I really was. My knees gave out and I crashed to the floor.

“Here let me help you,” the man said extending his hand.

I swatted his hand away.

“I have to do this on my own! Do you even realize how much danger you’re putting yourself in by just being in the same room with me? People want me dead! That’s why an arrow was fired at the boys in the first place! The man wanted me not them!”

“I know Roxanne told me everything. And these boys are my half-brothers.”

I stood, slowly. When I was sure my knees wouldn’t give out, I took a step and then another using the bed for support. I didn’t get far before my knees gave out again.

“Roxanne said you’d lost a lot of blood by the time you were brought to her.”

“Story of my life. Let’s see, I didn’t lose too much blood until after I pulled the arrow out. It was barbed so it probably tore my shoulder to shreds that’s most likely why and how I lost so much blood. It took maybe 10 minutes for me to pass out and it takes a good 20 minutes to get here. In that time span, I probably lost about 3 liters of blood. By the time I got here, I was damn near dead.”

“How do you know that?”

“The human body contains 4.5 to 5 liters of blood. Losing 3 liters can be fatal and most of the time it is. By factoring in age, gender, and rate of blood loss I figured out exactly how much blood I lost that day. It’s really a simple calculation.”

“But you did that in your head!”

“Of course I did. My Uncle Zahar would never allow me to work it out on paper. Every single calculation he ever had me do had to be done in my head, even the ridiculously hard problems.”

“Ra, it’s time. Bring her into the den,” Robert said opening the door.

“Ra is short for Adorea, right?”

“How’d you know?” Ra asked scooping me up from where I’d collapsed on the floor.

“I had a cousin that everyone called Ra. She hated it but less than Adorea. It means courage but at the time she could care less what it meant. It was all about how it sounded.”

He stopped.

“You speak Basque?”

“It was one of the 2 languages spoken in my house, aside from English. My mother used to yell at me and my brother in Basque all the time. She was a full-blooded Basque and very proud of that fact.”

Ra began walking again.

“How many languages do you know?”

“All but Chinese, Japanese, and modern Italian.

He stopped again and stared at me for a moment.

“I’m working on Arabic and Swahili at the moment.”

“Do you plan on being an interpreter or something?”

“No, my grandfather insisted that I be fluent in at least 3 or 4 languages so I could communicate with customers who didn’t speak English. My mother spoke at least 15 languages.”

Ra shook his head in amazement then deposited me on the couch. He sat beside me and crossed his arms behind his head.

“Mandatory News Broadcast,” he told me leaning back.

I turned in my seat and noticed a beat up 50-inch T.V. It was tuned to a news station and my face filled up the screen.

“And in other news, Katalina Torrés, the girl who slapped Bishop O’Malley six years ago, has been reported missing by a member of her family. She was last seen running off the Conversion Day stage about two and a half months ago. Her last known location was her family’s ranch there in the Basin, but it seems she’s vanished without a trace. The only clue she’s left, that’s been denied by her brother; her sister; and her best friend, detectives say that in the small corral used for the newly caught mustangs there were three horses there the day she disappeared.”

I put my hands over my ears and shut my eyes. I stayed that way until Ra nudged me.

“Look,” he said. “Listen.”

And I did look, but I found I’d rather not listen. Zazi was being interviewed.

“She’s off on business,” he was saying. “She’d never leave without telling someone but maybe someone was having problems with one of our mustangs and she went to go straighten things out. If that were the case, she wouldn’t tell anyone. She’d just leave. She could be gone a while depending on how serious the problem is. She’d never put a mustang down if she could work with it. Most people prefer broken horses or horses that were wild but had the wild taken from them, but in breaking a horse sometimes you break the horse’s spirit. We don’t break horses; we teach them and train them. Each horse is different; especially when they’re fresh off the range, and the detectives saying she took an untrained horse is absurd. Kitty knows how dangerous these animals can be when they’re wild. She has the scar to prove it too! Kitty would never take an untrained horse off this property. It’s too damn risky, and she damn well knows it.”

I couldn’t take any more of the broadcast. I stood and went out the front door. Remington’s Nightmare, or Nightmare or Remington, was tied to a hitching post outside the door and nickered when I came out. I went straight to him and buried my face in his mane. I knew which family member had reported me missing; the only one I couldn’t tell for fear what little sanity he retained would disappear had I told him what had transpired that day. I heard the door open and shut but didn’t look up.

“Is everything ok?” Ra asked coming to stand beside me.

I shook my head not trusting myself to speak.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

I turned to face him.

“Zahar is my uncle,” I said. “The war has haunted him since the day the last revolution was so brutally put down. It’s made him lose touch with the world around him.”

“What do you mean?”

“6 years ago, my older brother was shot. Zahar lives in a time when he’s still alive. The Great Revolution claimed many lives but it claimed just as many men’s minds. Zahar’s mind was one of them. His mind wasn’t truly gone until after my parents and brother died and my grandfather went missing. All of us helped keep the madness at bay, but with only me taking care of him I couldn’t stop the madness from slowly creeping into his mind and taking over. Now, he’s a recluse who won’t come out of his house, especially for Conversion Day.”

“Why does any of that matter now?”

“He’s so close to being institutionalized that I couldn’t tell him I had to run so Peli and Theo would be safe. It would shatter his fragile state of mind. And I…. I didn’t have the heart to do that to him.”

“Then the savior of our world is a coward!”

“I am not the Black Flame.”

“The hell you are! The Fates will it. You must accept that you cannot change your destiny.”

“I do not look to change my destiny!”

“Then why do you run?”

“To keep Peli and Theo and Zahar safe.”

“No, you’re running from something.”

“I’m running from a Death Warrant you asshole! Do you think I’d be this far from my home, my family, my business otherwise?”

The door opened again and Sam came onto the stoop.

“Both of you come inside, it’s gettin’ cold,” he said.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll return to my cave now,” I replied.

“Adorea doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut sometimes, Kitty. Don’t mind him,” Sam said.

“He spoke out of turn about things he knows nothing about,” I snapped.

“He does that a lot m’dear he is a seer after all and I don’t mind you goin’ back to your cave, in the mornin’.”

I glared at Ra but said nothing.

“Come inside both of you,” Sam ordered.

I shook my head. The cold helped me think and right now I needed to think.

“I have a letter from someone that you might want to read,” Sam said over his shoulder as he turned back toward the door. “A Matixatuen.”

I flinched. No one said that name, at least not anymore. His name had become taboo after he refused to serve both the Vatican and the Resistance. And those who refuse the Vatican are eliminated before they can become a threat to the reign of the glorious Pope.

“Don’t say that name if you wish to live,” I practically growled.

“I take it you know the name?” Ra asked.

I gave a tight nod. I still couldn’t believe Zazi had put these people in even more danger by sending that letter here. He should have known better.

“Why shouldn’t I say Matixatuen?” Ra pressed.

Without thinking about it, my fist flew and connected with Ra’s jaw.

“First,” I growled. “What part of ‘Don’t say that name again if you want to live’ don’t you understand?”

“She hit me,” Ra gasped shocked.

“Yes, I hit you,” I sneered. “And there’s plenty more where that came from if you say his name again.”

Ra’s jaw dropped.

“And second, the man that name belongs to is my grandfather,” I snapped. “I’ll be damned before I put you in any more danger. Don’t say his name because you never know who is listening. Trust me when I say you don’t want the Vatican to hear you say that name in casual conversation.”

“Why is that Kitty?” Sam asked.

“If you say my grandfather’s name and someone from the Vatican hears, you will be kidnapped and tortured until you reveal his location,” I replied. “Even I don’t know Max’s location and I’m his fucking granddaughter!”

Ra burst out laughing.

“You really expect us to believe that load of horse shit?” Ra laughed.

“Yeah, that’s right laugh it up but say that name in town and you will be seized faster than you can run away,” I snapped.

“Adorea, she speaks the truth,” Sam said.

Ra’s laughter sputtered to a stop and I whirled to face Sam.

“It seems, Kitty, that I knew your grandfather and your uncle. We fought in the Great Revolution together. Max, as you call him, was a brilliant Brigadier General and your Uncle Zahar was his Colonel. They were the most successful Brigadier General and Colonel of the war. Until Zahar was captured that is. Max wanted to mount a rescue mission but the Marshal refused him.”

“That’s when my uncle’s mind began to unhinge, in the torture chamber,” I said quietly.

“Yes, and that’s when I came to your grandfather,” Sam said. “I was a newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel and thought I had something to prove to this prolific Brigadier General. I had gotten the blueprints to the facility where Zahar was being held and had come up with a plan for a rescue mission. Max turned it down point blank, though it hurt him to do so. So, I gathered a small team and went in on my own. We got Zahar out but at the cost of most of my team and some more of his mind. Max was furious but when Zahar began babbling about an attack the Vatican had planned he all but forgot about his anger. Max went to the Marshal but the Marshal ignored him, dismissing the babbling as the talk of a man whose mind was broken beyond repair.”

“So, he took matters into his own hands and got his platoon out before the strike,” I said. “It was the largest Vatican strike on Resistance forces in recorded history. The strike was fast, silent, and in the dead of night so there was little to no chance for retaliation from Resistance forces. That was the last organized uprising of the Resistance to date.”

“Max was wise to get us out,” Sam sighed.

“The new Marshal of the Resistance asked him to lead his old platoon but Max refused,” I said. “He also refused the Vatican, so now he’s in hiding. Frankly, I’m surprised my friend would send his letter here.”

“Come inside and read it,” Sam ordered. “I won’t have you freeze your arse off.”

I followed Sam and Ra inside the house. Ra went back to the living room while I followed Sam into the kitchen. He pushed the letter to me from across the counter as he made his way to the coffee pot. I took the letter and opened it.

My dearest Kitty,

       As I hide on this Conversion Day, I remember the one where your brother died. He would have been 19 were he alive today. I watched the news broadcast this year and saw what happened. You were well within your rights and I am terribly sorry about the Death Warrant. It means that despite your parents’ best efforts, the prophecies they so feared are beginning to come true. Do not fear, my dear, as these prophesies have been shaping your life long before you were even born and will continue to shape the way your life will unfold from here on out. Do not worry about Zahar, somewhere in the back of his mind he knows you ran to save him and the twins. Remember, you are strong and this is what you were born to do.

                                    Much love,

                                           Max

                                           Burn this letter

I obeyed the last command of the letter instantly and without thought. As I watched my grandfather’s precious word burn in the hearth, silent tears slid down my face. They were the silent, sad tears that no one could hide. But when I turned from the hearth, they were hidden behind heavy lidded, tired eyes. Without a word, a man I hadn’t noticed before scooped me up and took me back to the room I’d been recovering in for the past several days.

“You’re Robert, Colby, and Clayton’s father aren’t you?” I asked unabashedly.

“Yes, and Ra’s father as well,” he replied. “Ra and Robert are seers but unfortunately, Ra cannot control his tongue sometimes.”

“Two seers in one family?” I mused. “That’s very rare.”

The man nodded.

“I found the man who shot you,” he said after a slightly awkward silence. “He’s dead.”

“I know,” I told him. “I killed him. Well I guess he killed himself since he jerked and wrenched the arrow from my hand.”

“You were protecting my boys,” he began.

“No,” I said cutting him off. “I was getting information. I had to know who wants me dead.”

“Rest, and tomorrow I’ll take you back to your cave,” he said laying me in bed and tucking me in.

“I didn’t get your name,” I said as he was leaving.

“Kraig,” he said opening the door.

With that, he was gone. I lay back on the pillows. I closed my eyes but images of the dead man’s face hovered there forcing me to immediately reopen my eyes. It was a long time before I was able to rest. When at last I did rest, it was fitful at best. The man who had single-handedly made my life a living hell, Bishop O’Malley, haunted my dreams.

I thought things couldn’t get any worse. I thought things would go back to normal in 6 months’ time, the time it takes for a Death Warrant to expire, and I would finally be able to go home. I was never more wrong.