The Second (The Immortal Prophecies: Book I)

XVII. Guenevere

Pivoting, Bonnie tried desperately to get a laugh out of little Mary, already having her smile at an insult to our orphan neighbors that teased us.

"You're not getting anywhere," I told her, helping her older sister tie her hair back.

"Says you. All right, young lady, what makes you chuckle, snort like a boar in a hunt, chortle?" Kneeled on my bed, the child--who I learned was only six--stared back with her saucer aquamarine eyes, blinking. Bonnie buried her face in her hands. "Something will come out of you, I'll see to it."

"Mary doesn't seem to speak much," I whispered to Phoebe, who admired her new hair. She cast down her gaze like she felt guilty for her silence, and I myself felt anything but innocent for asking. "Pardon." Prying the awful truth out of someone could be the worst thing to do in a moment like this.

"No, no, it isn't your fault. The past few years weren't something she should experience, but as much as I tried, I couldn't prevent it and now we're...here." The graciousness in her words startled me. No one had ever seen me like a hero, and for some odd reason, I felt uneasy because of it. Enough things already held me responsible, I didn't need more added on that long list.

They'd been fed, bathed and changed into a new set of clean clothes, looking better than when they'd arrived, though Mary hadn't bothered to even squeak. She did manage to warm up to us, but her words were reserved in whispers to her only family.

"Brilliant, all finished. Now join your sister, we have a few things to discuss that are very important you know." She crawled over the sheets and held her sister between her lap, both of them looking at us with full attention. Bonnie joined me on the floor, spreading her legs out, wriggling her small feet.

I didn't know how to begin. "Well, we're happy to have helped you, but our stay with you won't be...long. And we, especially me, won't be around a lot."

"Do you have a job?" For a ten year old, she sure pieced things together very quick. Perceptive for past reasons.

"I have two actually." It would sure feel like it once I saw Maddie again. "That and we'll be moving out once Bonnie turns into an adult in May--" Being serious while telling them our situation was hard with their expressions weakening me the longer I looked.

"You'll have our rooms while we continue our lives like the adults were destined to become. Hoorah." She looked at them as well. "I'm spewing rubbish--I don't want to leave. Not until you say something." Her chin rested on the bed in front of Mary, begging her to release her from torture. The little girl only smiled, her eyes laughing at Bonnie. She smiled back at her.

"Where will you sleep?" Phoebe continued, concerned for me in the manner that left me as worried as tomorrow's dawn.

"I used to share a room with Bonnie, so the arrangements shouldn't be a problem for us. We'll be all right, and I only have a few items here to move away." We proceeded to get up at the same moment I heard an aching whimper from my old mattress. And felt something small cup my wrist.

I jumped a bit, looking down to see a golden little head not meeting me, holding on to me as tight as little doll hands can squeeze. One of them let go of me in a rush, moving to place her lips beside her sisters ear to tell her my unknown. Phoebe nodded along with her, smiling softly at the commentaries.

"She wants you to stay. And so do I." Turning to Bonnie, I found her eyeing me like she knew what their choice was. Speechless and held captive, I thought about this over and over, losing a piece of shield I thought I'd embedded well, giving to the frightening feeling of sympathy.

A short while later, Bonnie dove head first into an ocean of study material while I stayed with the girls, contemplating the thoughts running back and forth. With a feeling of determination, I put my life-long necklace back, like I felt expected to, keeping the close match in the journal that was now in my lap. My trembling wasn't noticed until Phoebe handed me my pencil in the midst of my daze.