Shanakee's Tale Page 8

  An eternal covenant. In this life, it would not last very long. John thrust the thought aside, and the pain that came with it.

  Be here. Be now, he told himself.

  “The covenant made by the gods shall never be undone by men.” MacIan finally said.

  Tenderly, nearly hesitantly, John lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. She only stared at him with a heavy breath, took the hand out of his, and hectically left into the night.

  Alasdair MacIan cleared his throat, and patted him on the back.

  “Women are complicated creatures,” he said with a smile.

  John remained silent.

  “I’m sorry, boy, it’s heavy burden for someone that young,” MacIan continued. “But this is the only …”

  “Don’t be,” John interrupted. “Everything’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

  Alasdair smiled, and nodded.

  “Good.” He patted John again, this time harder. Then, he hugged the boy with such force that it nearly crushed his lungs. John appreciated what was a burst of emotions for MacIan, a man he had come to cherish, when pain seized his heart yet again. If Alasdair only knew the end …

  “Good,” MacIan repeated, and left John alone by the lake.

  It was then that he felt this presence again. As if somebody was watching him. Was he only imagining it? He had learned long ago not to dismiss those feelings. It was too penetrating to be an illusion. But he could not give them meaning either. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

  AIDEEN

  She walked with quick steps towards the village, as if on the run. It felt like her lungs tightened, and she was unable to breathe. Had she just really made this promise? It meant nothing. It was just a means to an end. And still, it had cost Aideen everything to say those words. John had seen right through her, didn’t he? He knew that she was lying. But why then did he agree to this charade? Maybe, because it meant nothing to him as well.

  Her lungs tightened even stronger. How could she have let it come that far? She had been the best spy in the northern hemisphere. It was absurd, just absurd. One year. Only one year.

  And then what? She had to kill Prometheus, and once she committed this great treachery, where would she hide? Where would her unborn child hide? She shook the thoughts off. It was just a farce, nothing more. A job she needed to finish.

  As she entered the empty hut that belonged to Margaret and Sena and began to gather the few possessions she had, there was something that looked like a piece of paper. Paper? It had been banned since the digital revolution. But some outsiders had managed to preserve some, she remembered. She felt the strange sensation of it between her fingers as she unwrapped it. On the inside was only one sentence.

  I know who you really are.

  Aideen looked around, panic tightening her throat.

  There was nobody here. Who had written this message?

  Her hands trembled as she reread the note.

  Was it the other spy from the Global Intelligence? John? Who else would want to intimidate her?

  She threw the piece of paper into the fire pit, and it slowly dissolved in the flames.

  CONALL

  It was night while Conall still stared at the new biomatrix he had created in his nearly finished hut. This time, he had written it out on the wood of one whole wall, sketched it from his memory. He had explicitly asked for one wooden wall instead of stone. Still, it was a poor substitute for his room in Dunvegan Castle.

  Something felt off. Like a crack in the matrix spread out before him. As if he had made a mistake somewhere along the lines. But where? He stared harder. It was just a feeling every time he looked at the formation of patterns he recreated from memory. He was missing something. Had it been missing all along, or was he just unable to remember?

  Suddenly, he questioned everything. Maybe it was not Aideen, she was just a girl he had projected the memory of his daughter to. Maybe it was not even Area Three.

  But what exactly was he waiting for? It had become too quiet. He had been anticipating Manasseh’s next move, but nothing came. If Manasseh had been searching for Aideen, he knew maybe more than Conall did. And this scared him. Everything had grown too soothing.

  Conall shook his head, symbolically clearing it to get a fresh thought. He stared again. And still it was there, this feeling creeping down his spine, sending a chill through his body.

  Something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. He could not point a finger at it nor could he put this feeling into words.

  Something had drastically changed.

  PART II

  AIDEEN

  I’m pulling you back. Take the child for a day’s walk south tomorrow night.

  Those words rung in Aideen’s ears as Kaahla watched her approach while her dark robe danced back and forth in the wind. This was a risky move, defying Manasseh and switching sides so obviously. The thoughts had tormented her throughout the night.

  It’s for the best. That’s what Manasseh claimed.

  But it wasn’t. She just couldn’t abandon her son.

  It was crazy, all of it. The year had flown by like the breath of wind passing through the Highlands. True, she did not want the child; she detested the whole idea of pregnancy. But the bigger it grew inside of her, the clearer she understood that her hatred came from years of propaganda. And that in fact, she began to love this creature more than anything else. She could not help it. It just happened. Maybe it was just hormones. And still, how was she supposed to hurt him the way her parents hurt her? It had destroyed her world, it had made her who she was now. Aideen could not allow the same hatred to destroy her little son, who was so innocent now. So with the first light of day, she swallowed the pill Kaahla had given her and made a secret call.

  Kaahla took down the cloth that covered her face and head, and stared at Aideen. They met not far away from Glencoe, still in Outer Area Three territory so that nobody would notice Aideen’s absence. Her hands trembled as Aideen approached the only hope she had for the past one and a half years. The fear of losing her child had grown stronger with every day, it seemed. She felt as if it was suffocating her.

  “A son?” Kaahla asked when Aideen stood in front of her.

  Aideen nodded.

  “It’s an honor. You should be proud.”

  Her child was nearly a year old, the terrible night of the birth already forgotten. But what she could not forget was this message. I know who you really are. Since that day she felt watched, and knew that someone would come for her. Whoever it was.

  “The condition remains the same, Aideen.”

  Aideen closed her eyes while Kaahla’s words sounded far away.

  “Can you fulfill the plan? Have you found him?”

  Yes, and no, Aideen thought. It was John, a small voice inside of her was ceaselessly whispering day and night.

  There had been signs. But things were never simple with John. Sometimes, she just thought that he was bipolar. Nightmares tormented him. One night, he woke up and stared darkly at Aideen. He stormed out, and then he came back about an hour later, apologizing. Things like that happened all the time, and she never really understood what went on in his head. Maybe even he didn’t.

  Still, despite his peculiarity, she was taken with John. His presence still made her knees weak because he evoked the feeling as if he knew things. And he was as generous as he was loving, especially concerning their son. Day and night, he was playing with him, teaching him to walk and reading him from a small black leather book. She smiled at those memories. They were warm and comforting, and while Aideen had always struggled with her demons, it seemed as if John possessed none.

  She had no other choice. There was only one way to find out who he really was.

  Aideen nodded. “I think I have.”

  “Good. If he passes the test, I’ve been told that you and your son will be protected.”

  The wind rose again, and pressed Kaahla’s coat against her body. Aideen stared. The coat formed a very rounded b
elly. Kaahla was pregnant, and she was far along.

  “I’m afraid it’s a girl.” Her voice sounded desolate.

  Aideen lowered her eyes. She knew how girls and women were regarded in the Sub, and she despised them for it. Just as she despised the Global Government for their calculating methods. She despised the whole world, it seemed.

  “We are waiting with a vehicle to take you to Snowdonia, you have two hours.”

  Aideen nodded, and left.

  * * *

  The hut was crowded when Aideen entered.

  Margaret took care of John’s grandfather, who had been slowly fading before their eyes. Their son was asleep in the far corner, red locks rocking back and forth by his breath. John was getting dressed in a coat made of leather and fur. He lifted his head towards Aideen to greet her with a warm smile.

  “Here you are.” He got up, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “We should get going.”

  Before having the chance to ask, Margaret’s voice resounded from across the room. “Where?”

  “Aideen and I will be gone for several days,” he replied, and turned to bestow her with a knowing wink. “There is something we need to do.”

  So he knew already? It should be no surprise with John, and still it made Aideen shiver. How much exactly did he know?

  “Gone where?” Margaret suddenly got up, and Aideen instantly became aware of the tension that hung in the air.

  “Nothing major …” Aideen walked towards the corner where her son lay, but Margaret nonchalantly blocked the way.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?” she said, her expression suddenly cold and demanding. John did not move. Aideen turned around and nodded.

  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  He hesitated to leave.

  “I’ll be waiting right outside.” John threw both of them a suspecting glance.

  When the door finally closed behind him, Margaret whispered: “If it’s nothing major, you won’t mind that I take care of your son.”

  In that very moment, she drew a dagger and held it at the baby’s throat. Aideen jerked and suppressed an outcry. “We wouldn’t want to wake him, would we?” Margaret said. Her expression had transformed so drastically that Aideen had trouble believing it.

  “I tried to help you get rid of it before it made you weak. I really wanted to make it easier for you.”

  The realization slowly crept over Aideen, but she refused to believe it.

  “It happened to me as well, when I got pregnant with Sena. He tied me to this goddamn place.”

  The blade at her baby’s throat paralyzed Aideen. Was Margaret the spy? But how would she know of Aideen’s identity? She was not supposed to, this was the agreement.

  “Margaret … please …” was all she could get out, trying to determine what to do next.

  “It took me decades to restore the agency’s trust, and you won’t spoil it for me.” She paused, taking a breath, “If you don’t return in two days, Manasseh will come for the child.”

  So she was the spy. And the fact that she knew who Aideen was could only mean one thing: Aideen was labelled a traitor.

  “Did you write the note?” Her voice was bitter.

  Margaret nodded.

  “I wanted to warn you. But apparently, it was no use.”

  Rage mixed with incredible fear in Aideen’s chest. Manasseh did not label her a traitor over a year ago already. He gave away her identity the day she had told him of her pregnancy. Anger rose inside her chest. She could impossibly leave her child here. Not with the prospect of Manasseh getting his cold fingers on him. But what choice did she have?

  “Don’t be foolish Aideen. Just get back here in time, or don’t leave at all.”

  The blade at her son’s throat flickered in the light of the fire.

  If John was Prometheus, if he passed the test, they could return in two days to rescue her son. This was her only hope. The only thing she could hold on to now.

  “Please don’t hurt him,” she pleaded, and left without being able to kiss her helpless child goodbye.

  CONALL

  John and Aideen were guided into a cave in a hill, along the railway tracks leading inside. It was an old mine.

  Conall had seen them leave the village and followed to a vehicle where a hooded group of people awaited. The strangers’ faces were masked by dark cloth. Despite his age, Conall managed to cling to the back of the truck, and thus follow them unseen. He was thankful for every new development. The last year appeared like a black hole, no results, just this nagging feeling he could not place. He had nearly given up his life’s work, always toying with the thought to return to Dunvegan.

  But after three hours of driving, he already regretted his decision. Rain was pouring all over his clothes, and the hands that were holding on to the metal of the truck grew icy. Little did he know that the drive would take them three more hours before arriving at the North of the Welsh Area. Conall could hear the coast somewhere close, jumped down and ducked behind a hill.

  After they were gone for several minutes, he carefully entered the darkness of the cave, behind metal bars that hung loosely at the entrance. He nearly crawled along the wall, expecting the guard to return any second. Oil lamps hung from the stone walls, illuminating the corridor towards a steep stairway. As steps echoed, Conall tensed, approaching the staircase to catch the guard by surprise.

  Conall attacked from behind and the guard slipped backward, crashing his head against the stone. He fell unconscious. Conall disarmed him and took off the guard’s clothes and mask, and pulled them over his own body. He carried the unmoving body to one of the trucks and tied him to the vehicle. Then he followed the staircase that plunged him into darkness.

  Sounds of a waterfall echoed between the cold walls, and soon he could feel the drops of the water that clashed against the stone on his skin. An old mine elevator was lit by a torchlight. Conall opened the rusty door and pushed a red button. Slowly, the elevator descended until Conall was enveloped into pure obscurity. What was this place? And why on earth did Aideen and John come here?

  After several minutes, numerous lights illuminated a huge space under him while the elevator still descended. Underneath spread something that looked like an underground city. For the most part, it was still under construction. Dozens of rectangular houses were built directly into the rocks, and many more were still in the process. The cave that hosted them was enormous. Some fires were lit here and there, and they gave shape to the city of rocks. Conall could not believe his eyes. As the elevator came closer, he realized that it was only one of the levels the city contained. Deep down, an endless abyss stretched to over more than ten levels. Several hundred people populated the city and its corridors. Those inhabitants seemed to have some kind of dress code. They were wrapped in elements of linen, leather, and metal, mostly black with touches of red and orange. All of them wore some kind of weapon, mostly daggers or swords. A hole far above in the ceiling provided some daylight and fresh air. The elevator finally stopped, and Conall stepped out into this wondrous space, trying hard to prevent his eyes from gleaming. He was fascinated. And he was scared. What on earth was this place? It smelled of incense and fire, and the scent of warm bread hit his nostrils. His stomach grunted after six hours of cold, and he felt dehydrated.

  But his distress was quickly diverted by a crowd streaming into one direction, descending to the very bottom of this pit. He decided to follow suit, covering his face with more care, hoping to get through unnoticed. When he finally reached the bottom where the air was thick and moist, and the ground covered with cold sand, he had to peak above the heads to see what was happening.

  They had formed a circle, and right in the middle of it—was John. They had trapped him like an animal. Nevertheless, John looked around as if he was in complete control. Conall held his breath, anticipating. What was the meaning of this spectacle?

  A man came forward and unveiled his face to reveal a thick, black beard.

  �
�May the One and Only God test this man to determine if he is the prophet he claims to be, may He seek his heart and soul and reveal his true nature!” he screamed.

  The crowd roared. Conall clenched his fists. John? He was claiming to be some prophet? It all seemed like a sick game. And where was Aideen?

  The sound of a steel blade cut the air, and before Conall even perceived it, John jumped and caught it, directly at the handle. It was some kind of sword, but it was formed like a half-circle. Everybody held their breaths at John’s stunt. Even Conall.

  Another man came forward, sword in hand, and positioned himself, ready for a fight. John, fighting? All of Conall’s muscles tensed. John was no fighter. But all of this seemed like a crazy dream that made no sense anyway, so what did he know?

  John tossed and turned the sword in his hand as if it was a toy, as if he had done nothing in his life but wielded it. How? He looked completely at ease. Then, he slammed the sword into the ground, burying it in the sand that lay at their feet. It was an unmistakable gesture. He refused to use weapon. Instead, he turned his back to his opponent, and closed his eyes. Was he going completely mad? It infuriated the man, and he screamed and ran at John with full force, sword raised.

  Fight, John. Fight! Conall pleaded, barely able to hold himself back. He wanted to run and help the kid, but what use would it be if he gave up his identity that easily? It was as if time slowed while the sword approached John at full speed.

  JOHN

  John turned and evaded the attack. His opponent crashed to the ground from his own force, got up, red with anger, and made another run.

  John hated to fight. He hated to hurt people and he detested violence. Yet here he was, tested like an animal and forced into battle. But he would not play by their rules.