Short story concerning the family of an orphan in Child of the Wind.
The wind raged against the dark of night, trees whipping back and forth violently as it sounded a low, desperate keening through their spidery branches. The leaves that tumbled through the air were barely visible for inky thunderclouds loomed above, blotting out the light of the twinkling stars above. Even the lovely white rays that emanated from the pale full moon were obscured without a thought or care, as if even the elements that lurked outside the thick glass window were devoid of hope for the fate of those tucked behind its transparent protection.
All this was absorbed in the back of her mind as she stood, feeling small and very, very alone in the little cold room. Under her watchful blue gaze was a rickety wooden crib and a thin white mattress upon which rested a child wrapped in a silky lilac blanket. Tufts of thick blonde hair stuck out in every direction as the tiny girl slept, her large, mossy green eyes closed and long black lashes brushing against her soft rosy cheeks.
The storm that raged outside paled in comparison to the terror that awaited the innocent child as she would grow older and more powerful, her blissful ignorance soon to be ripped away like the fleecy blanket that was her comfort that chilly night, leaving her exposed and afraid and at the mercy of those who seeked to use her for their own selfish gain with no thought of the things she would suffer as a result.
This the young woman knew all too well, and the pain that tore through her every day and especially now as she beheld her baby girl so helpless in slumber had grown and found its way into her every passing thought, so that each new movement she made in life caused her fresh agony.
Gently so as not to wake her, she stretched out her arm and brushed her long, pale fingers once against the baby's face. Then she turned and knelt next to the young German Shepherd puppy that lay on the floor by the crib, brown eyes alert and missing nothing.
"Keep her safe, Misty," she whispered, pressing her lips against her furry forehead. The dog's tail whapped against the floor once in confirmation.
The girl rose and walked out the door, pausing once to look upon her child one last time before closing the door softly and walking away.
The hardwood floor creaked ominously underneath her as she padded across to the master bedroom. Barefoot and clad in only an oversized white T-shirt she was wracked by shivers as cold air drifted through the house.
A particularly strong gust of wind blasted through the night outside, moaning eerily and sending chills of an entirely different nature down her spine. The familiar feeling of dread manifested itself once again in the back of her mind. Conflict was looming, and she knew it to be dark and unavoidable.
Her room was warmer than the rest of the house, but not by much. Still she welcomed the balmy air that whisked across her arms and legs, calming her nerves and smoothing down the goosebumps that had erupted in the sad wooden hall.
One of her dresser drawers hung open and she walked across the room to shut it. As her fingers closed around the knobs a wave of despair washed over her, taking her breath away with its sheer magnitude.
What is going to happen? she could not help but ask herself. And she realized she was too afraid to answer her own question.
Behind her the door opened, tossing even more cold over her sensitive skin. Her jaw tightened. She did not look but she knew he was there. The main source from which her daily anxiety stemmed. Before he had been her only comfort in times of need, but now, when their daughter's life was in danger as well as her own and she needed him most he had transformed into the bane of her former strength. Unaccustomed to facing hardship not only without him by her side but as a part of the deadly obstacle was almost more than she could bear.
He crossed the room and took her in his arms, resting his forehead against hers.
"I don't understand," he murmured, and the sound of his voice, so quiet and gentle, broke her heart anew. "You say you love the person I used to be, yet I haven't changed. I can't think of anything I've done to turn you away, and-"
"Well think harder," she said, voice brittle and slightly muffled by the thick black hoodie that covered his muscled chest.
"I don't know! Please, I want to make this right. You know I love you more than anything. Just tell me what I've done and I'll fix it, I swear."
She was silent.
"Please," he said again, so softly. "I can't bear for you to be angry with me."
More pain coursed through her, giving her the strength to push away from him angrily and climb onto the bed over to the window. She sat with her legs folded, hugging a pillow tightly to her and gazing out at the thundering night. Against her will a single tear coursed down her cheek, followed by another and another.
"No, no," his voice broke with anguish, "Please don't cry, baby. I'm sorry. Please don't cry over me."
She turned a deaf ear to his sadness, never believing it could surpass her own. Hardly any could.
He followed her, sliding across the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her backwards so her head rested on his shoulder, curly red locks tumbling unheeded down his chest. His lips brushed against the top of her ear, stubble tickling her every so lightly.
"I don't understand," he said again. "I want to but I cannot, and I don't believe I ever will unless you tell me."
She hardly heard the words as they forced themselves out of her mouth. "I promised myself if you were smart enough and cared enough to figure it out on your own, or at least part of it, you were worth telling. If not, then you never had to know."
He digested that for a moment. "I'm sorry. Would...would you like me to try, then?"
A scowl twisted her full pink lips. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"
"It might." There was quiet. Then, "If it means that much to you, then I will."
She shook her head. "I said it doesn't matter." Her voice cracked midsentence and his arm tightened around her middle, the other crossing her chest as his hand traced soothingly over her cheek. A pang of longing rose within her. She had denied this to herself for so long, ever since he betrayed her. He betrayed her.
He betrayed me.
He didn't know, another part of herself argued.
I told him not to do it, and he did.
If he knew why he would have never.
But he doesn't know why.
And whose fault is that?
He never cared enough to try! If he had he would have found out something, even a little, and then I would have told him.
You expect far too much from him.
I didn't always.
But you let yourself be lulled into trusting him. And look where you are now.
If I can'r trust him I can't tell him. Ever.
Whether you trust him or not he deserves to know.
No! My word should have been enough, but the one time he refuses to listen it puts us all in danger.
Maybe he is the one who can't trust you. After all these years you can't bring yourself to tell him who he's really married to? Who or what he really loves?
And that was what finally choked the answer out of her. A knot formed in her belly and seemed to travel up, aching in her throat until it formed itself into words. And once they came out, albeit in a slightly strangled manner, the entire story began to flood and she could not stop.
"The horses are restless because of the storm. A branch fell from the elm tree and landed in front of the barn. Misty just rolled over in her sleep and one of her ears is flopping slightly to the side. You left the timer on the stove downstairs and it's going to beep in about fifteen seconds. Faith is having a nightmare right now, full of blood and death and fear, always fear. She's too young to even understand but still she must be tormented even in sleep, just as I was but worse, so much worse."
In the stunned silence that followed the timer on the stove beeped, the sound harsh and out of place as it hung in the air as confirmation to her hollow words.
"How..." he trailed off hoarsely.
"Because I know things. I know so many things, so much more than I ever wanted to. I know that Grace is about to be pregnant and nine months from now we'll have a healthy young nephew. I know that you feel guilty because you haven't been to see your mom because we've been so very busy lately. I know that Joy is going to call tomorrow at 2:00 because she misses me and her little goddaughter. I know what's been, what is now and what will be. I was born with incredible powers I never asked for, never wanted, but I accepted them because it was something I could never change, and because I believed as I do now that you would love me for who I am and not give a mind to the strange and unnatural things I can do."
"I...I-"
But she forged ahead before he could finish. "At times I wanted to tell you so very badly, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was afraid. You are the one thing I never wanted to take a risk on.
I used to be able to manipulate the wind with my mind as well, but I lost that a few months after I turned fourteen. I thought I'd lost connection forever. And then, years later, I had Faith. The first months of pregnancy I was more powerful than I'd ever been. I was ecstatic. And then almost immediately I began to lose it again. My gift was slowly sapped away and I didn't know why until she was born. And I realized it had been passed on to her. She's so powerful, even now she has more control than I ever did.
After that I took her to Joy. She's like me too you know, though I suppose that wouldn't be too hard a thing for you to guess, knowing her. She knows things as well but not like me. Mostly she sees the future, in dreams and visions.
The things she saw...they were dark and terrible. Unchecked she could run rampant, destroying the veil others have tried to hard to keep over the eyes of society; the ones who can never know the abilities of people like me who live side by side with them, undetected. There are those who would do anything to keep our secret hidden, and even worse there are those who have managed to slip underneath the veil and covet our power, seeking to use it as their own. Between them and her unusually potent...skills, we can't keep her hidden forever. And once that day comes hell isn't a strong enough word to describe the things she, and through her you and me, will have to go through.
Even still I thought it was okay. I thought we could keep her safe. And then you...you took that job." She practically spat out that last word.
"Those people you work for, our so-called government, are evil and corrupt. They know." She was choking up now, sobs working their way up her body. "I tried to warn you against it but you didn't listen! You don't listen and now because of you Faith is in horrible danger." And she began to cry in earnest.
"They know. They already tried to take me, and Joy and Lance and the others. They are all like me, but we escaped...But if they ever find out who you are they won't hesitate. They'll take you and torture you and turn you against us. Those men you work for, the ones who pay you and help keep your daughter fed and clothed would just as soon take her, and me as well and use us as human lab rats. And if we survives that experience we'll be turned into mindless killing machines, weapons for them to use against whomever they choose. And she'll suffer that because of me. because of the gift I gave her. I thought I could trust you to help protect her but then you go and do something like that, without even taking my words into consideration.
Why do you think I got Misty? She would give her life to protect Faith, but when it all comes down to it she's only a dog, and what can she do against men and women with guns and tranquilizers and needles, always their horrible needles..."
Tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks.
He pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.
She just shook her head brokenly. "Lance, Joy and the others...they agreed to help protect her but there's only so much they can do as well. I need you more than anything to help keep our daughter safe but instead you turn against me and wonder why I would recoil from your touch. You abandoned me and now Faith's survival lands squarely upon my shoulders. You promised you'd always be there, but when I find the one burden I cannot carry alone, the one I shouldn't have to carry alone because she's your daughter as well, all you can do is find ways to make it harder.
"Please. I need you. I can't do this alone, not anymore."
"No," he whispered, "you can't."
And she felt something cold and sharp pressed against the base of her neck.
"What..." she gasped as it slid faster than thought over her skin. A single bead of blood dripped down her neck and stained the virgin cloth at her neckline. And the drug that coated the blade began to seep into her body.
No. No. NO!
She fell as he stepped back and off the bed.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears but could not completely drown out his last words to her.
"You were wrong, love." He said simply, in a voice colder and emptier than anything she'd ever felt before. "You cause far too much trouble than you're worth. They decided Faith was the only one worth keeping alive."
And terror burned in her veins, more fiery than the passion with which she'd loved this man, more fiery than the poison he was using to kill her, more fiery than any terror she'd ever experienced before.
And then she was enveloped by blackness...