Page 27 of Retribution

“I had plans to fix that,” he mumbled under his breath, and I stopped in my steps at his use of words, but I offered nothing.

He pulled a string dangling from the ceiling of the shed, illuminating the room from a soft glowing bulb that swung back and forth. I watched the bulb, concentrating on it until the swinging stopped and it lay still, then I braved a glance around.

“I couldn’t keep it a secret. I mean, I wanted to. But I felt like someone had to know because this shed is so neglected and if-” he didn’t speak a word for a moment after that. “Liberty once told me she loved my rocking chairs and cradles over the tables and other items I made. So I just thought – I mean – I’ve been working on this for weeks, and I’m almost done.”

He pulled a dusty sheet off the structure in the corner, revealing a rocking chair and a baby cradle. The wood so intricately carved that a masterpiece would be an inadequate word to describe the piece of art that laid in front of me. I ran my fingers over the smooth wood, still awaiting a finish. I glided my touch over the pattern in awe.

“You made this alone?” I questioned.

He nodded. “It’s a passion, and after so many years, it’s so hard to find things you are passionate about.”

“It makes you happy?” I asked, my fingers still brushing the wood.

“It was one of the only things that did.”

I knew what he meant. Now he had Liberty, and being around her was like a light at the end of the darkest tunnel. You were pulled to her. You wanted to protect her. To shelter her from the harm that would surely come her way. My chest ached with the realization that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t shelter her from the pain that would surely come to her.

“I had a vision of all of you, trudging through the forest on your way to find me. ”

He smiled. “I figured as much; you didn’t seem shocked to see us.”

“It was not shocking,” I confirmed. “She was mystifying with her dark hair flowing and a trail of men following in her wake. But I did not doubt you all belonged to her, and I am glad that the fates have gifted her affection to me.”

“When I was a kid, I assumed I wouldn’t live past thirty-five. It wasn’t uncommon to die young,” Ellis admitted. “I never wanted to walk this earth two hundred years later, but I know now that the two hundred years were for a single purpose.”

The purpose, our purpose on this earth, is never clear until moments of certainty—a fact of which I had to remind myself constantly. Nothing is permanent until the fates deem it to be so. Nothing is solidified until the unseen quill linked to my soul scratches the parchment of the book of fates.

“I must go attend to the water. I think Liberty will like your gift very much.” I turned, not wanting to spend another second inside this closed space. I needed air. I was suffocating with my guilt, with the knowledge of what my quill has not yet penned.

I made it to the door, my back to Ellis when he spoke, “You know, the thing about the fates is they have given us all gifts. You, sight. Sterling healing. Oak strength of protection. Justice his freedom. Me –” He paused as he sighed, “the feeling of emotion. I don’t talk about it much because, honestly, being around all of you is overwhelming with feelings, and I try to tune it out. It’s strong. Powerful. But even if I ignore it, that does not mean I don’t understand the drives behind what triggers people’s emotions.”

I had forgotten about the things the fates had gifted. “Fate has been generous.”

My words held no feeling behind them, but he did not argue the statement. “Do not fear the visions the fates have gifted you. Whatever it comes to, I welcome it.”

Chapter 13

LIBERTY

“But it’s his birthday.”I reasoned with Sterling. “He deserves a party.”

Sterling nodded slowly, a move he made when he was appeasing me. “He does. But you should really be taking it easy.”

“Party planning is taking it easy. I am literally sitting here while everyone does the work.”

“Shopping online and ordering people around isn’t that relaxing,” he argued.

“Speak for yourself. Do you know how many pity parties are solved with a few clicks and a credit card?”

He rolled his eyes. “Liberty –”

“It’s his birthday, Sterling. After two hundred years, don’t you think he deserves to feel special for a day? Hell, all of you do, and when it’s your birthday, I’ll do the same.”

“He hates surprises,” Sterling pointed out.

“He does.” I smiled. “But he won’t be angry.”

Sterling leaned over me, placing a kiss on my lips. “It’s because absolutely no one has the nerve to be angry at you. Except for Oak, but even that is all superficial.”

---