He moans in relief as he rotates his shoulders in small circles, relaxing the muscles. He mutters a breathy thank you as he tries to get a little more comfortable.
I sit on the floor at the base of the neighbouring tree. “I doubt you show your own prisoners the same leniency.”
“They wouldn’t except kindness from me, no matter how sincere.” He studies me as I pick at the ground with a twig. “Especially not Carter.”
My back straightens as he says my dad’s name. Anger coils in my belly. “Thanks to you I’ll never meet him.” I glare at the floor and snap the twig I’m holding.
“Krista look at me.” His voice is commanding and I glance up. His eyes capture my own and without warning images invade my mind. Overcoming my sense of sight and transporting me somewhere else. Somewhere flooded in cold light.
I’m standing at one end of a long wide room with a blood red carpet stretching out in front of me. It extends to the other end where there is a grand marble staircase with a polished metal handrail. There's no windows but either side of me is frosted glass. It continues down past the level I’m on to another level below. I realise I'm on some sort of viewing platform. It’sdeathly quiet and clinical. Almost like a hospital that someone has tried to dress up somehow.
As I walk along the corridor the frosted glass suddenly turns crystal clear revealing a wide-open space either side. I walk to one side and looking down I see loads of glass boxes in a row following the direction of the raised walkway. There’s people in them. Sat on small beds or metal chairs. They leer up at me with pure hatred in their eyes. Some snarl or make rude gestures. Others, mainly the women look up in fear. They’re dressed in thin white cotton clothes with bare feet. I realise they’re prisoners but they’re displayed like trophies. I count 6 in total.
I reach the staircase but instead of going up, I go down. To the level that the glass cells are on. I walk through not even glancing at them as they bang on the glass. Their shouts muffled by the thick walls. I walk until I reach a glass cell halfway down the long hallway. Inside is a man with shoulder length hair the same colour as my own. He’s built like a rugby player. Broad shoulders and burly arms. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together. He looks up when I stop in front of his cell. He looks to be in his mid-forties. A beard covers his jaw and his eyes are hazel with crows’ feet in the corners. He’s handsome but the way he looks at me is intimidating. There’s a hardness behind his eyes that’s smouldering with quiet anger.
I press a button on a touch screen pad at the side of the cell. This time when I speak I know it will be Alistair’s voice and it doesn’t startle me.
“Carter, I know they are headed north. With or without your help I will find them.” Alistair’s voice is a monotone of fact.
He said Carter. This is my Dad. I’m awestruck. I’ve imagined what he looks like my entire life and now I can see him. I kick myself for not seeing the similarities between us sooner. His hair. His eyes. I can see so much of myself in him. My heartswells with joy. I want desperately to talk to him but the harsh reality that this is just a memory is wrenching.
My dad rolls his eyes and when he speaks he sounds bored. Like he’s heard something similar a million times before. It comes through a microphone by the button I’d just pressed. “You know I won’t help you Alistair. You’ve tried but nothing you can do has made me speak. I’m not about to start now.” His voice has a slight gruffness to it.
“I know.” I tilt my head as I watch him. “Aren’t you excited? You will be reunited with your family soon.”
He stands and comes over to the glass. Alistair is tall but Carter is an inch or two taller.
“You will have hell to pay if they take one step into this building.” His eyes turn amber and his teeth lengthen into a snarl.
“Maybe so but all the time you are a prisoner here there is nothing you can do about it but watch. Tell me do you feel your mates pain as your own?” I smirk.
Carter slams his fists on the glass. His finger nails have turned into long black claws. “Fuck you!”
The laugh that comes from my mouth is fake and taunting as I walk away.
The image shrinks away and I blink a few times. Reacquainting myself to reality. I’m back in the woods facing Alistair. The sun has started to rise. Tears well up in my eyes instantly. The mixture of emotions I’m feeling is tumultuous. I saw my Dad. I heard his voice.
“Why did… How did you show me that?” My voice catches as I speak.
“You wanted to see your Dad. I showed you.” He murmurs. I should be angry with him for the way he spoke to my Dad, but I’m not. I’m grateful for the chance I got to see him. It’s the closest I’ll probably ever get.
“How though?” There’s a rock in my chest as I start putting all the pieces together.
“You know how, Psychi Mou. You just don’t want it to be true.” He says softly. He’s watching me intensely. Imploring me to realise what I’ve started to suspect.
“There’s no other way for people to communicate the way we can is there?” The look in his eyes tells me all I need to know. I can’t breathe. I stand up and put some distance between me and him. I run my hands through my hair. I think about what my mum has said about her and dad. Then there's the dreams. Seeing through his eyes. Feeling his emotions and pain almost as my own. Touching minds. Being drawn to him by some invisible, irresistible pull even though it goes against my better judgment. It’s all impossible and overwhelming. I take some deep breaths then turn back to him.
“Your saying we’re Moira? We’re fated to be together?” My voice reaches a new pitch.
He nods. His expression is impossible to read.
I pace back and forth in front of him. How can mother nature be so cruel? How can Alistair be my soul mate? He’s a God of death! After all the terrible things he’s done I’m meant to love him?! That’s never going to happen. I despise him.
As I pace I step slightly too close to him and as I loosened his restraints moments before he’s able to grab my hand and pull me into him. I expected his dark aura to suffocate me but it’s weaker than before. The invisible black mist has turned into a light fog. I go to step away but his grip on my hips makes that impossible. I can only push my upper half away slightly by pressing my hands against his solid chest. I can’t help but notice how hard his muscles are beneath my fingertips and he smells so good. I shake my head and lean as far back away from him as I can.
“No, this is wrong. Let me go.” I push and wriggle trying to get free.
“If you really wanted me to let you go your branches would have pulled my arms away by now.” His cocky smile is maddening as his grip on my hips pulls me tighter against him. “But if you want to keep rubbing up against me like that it’s fine by me.” He says huskily.
