“Two people can look the same age yet be hundreds of years apart. You get used to it.” Beckah seems to eye Arek for permission to continue, but he simply takes a sip of his drink. She accepts this as approval and continues, “This is my very quiet and serious boyfriend, Geo.” Geo lifts a quick hand but doesn’t say anything. He’s handsome but seems reserved. Beckah shrugs, “Several times I thought you were going to talk to us when we sat across from you on BART.”
I grin, “I was just trying to figure out why you were there. I guess at moments you seemed almost familiar.” Smiles turn to straight lines when, apart from Ian, everyone glances about. My heart thumps an extra beat, “I’m sorry, did I say something?”
“Many of us just wish that we were actually familiar.” Beckah hesitates as she moves her food around with a fork.
“Beckah,” Arek reprimands her.
“I’m sorry, Arek. It’s just the truth. She deserves to know why we all look at her like we do. I wouldn’t want to be her, that’s all.”
“And did I know you, Geo?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. I had been living in Canada up until about twenty years ago. I came to serve after the time of Remy.” He says this tenderly as he looks at the rest of the group. Then he grins and rests his hand on Beckah’s.
“We have already introduced ourselves,” Kilon begins. “Sassi and Kilon Pierne. We, too, have known you most of your life.”
Sassi and Kilon seem to be at least ten years older than me, but I have given up on wondering how many years that means for all Velieri.
“So, you have been watching me?”
“Among others,” Arek says.
“Why?”
“Because you meant something to each of us,” Sassi explains. “Whether you remember or not, we do.”
Suddenly we hear rumbling outside, causing Arek and Kilon to jump to their feet. They move to the windows and look outside while speaking in their different language.
“Is it time?” Sassi asks.
“No,” Arek says, shaking his head as he hurries to me. “Willow, come with me.”
“What about this guy?” Sassi asks about Ian, still snoring.
“I’ll take care of him,” Kilon chuckles.
Arek pulls me from the room quickly.
“What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure, but you have to hide until I can find out.”
“Hide?”
“Yes. I’ll explain later.” We rush through several rooms of the house, passing windows on all sides, and then hurry downstairs into a basement. Beside the closed door is a black square on the wall. Arek takes his phone from his pocket and presses it quickly against the black square. Instantly we hear the door unlock and it slides into a pocket. This house seems to have ahead-of-the-curve technology. The room is nearly empty, appearing to be more like a panic room than basement. He leaves my side and says, “Safe down,” as he heads to the middle of the room.
Everything is concrete, which makes me curious about what he is expecting to appear, until a rectangle portion from the cement ceiling lowers. Finally, I can recognize shelves of guns, ammo, vests, and knives of all kinds. There are drawers also, which he pulls open and sifts through until Kilon enters and whistles behind him. Arek’s voice rumbles, “The 1911?”
“Is there any other kind?” Kilon grins. As though Arek knows exactly where he’s standing, he throws Kilon several guns, which Kilon prepares in seconds. He notices my eyes on him and says, “There’s no better gun than this, right here. The Sig 1911.” The black steel lays easily between his fingers until he hides it under his clothes.
Arek grins. “If you like the tank,” he says as he grabs three guns that appear to be lighter.
“You know I do. And two Karambit,” Kilon requests.
Arek slides two curved knives to land perfectly at Kilon’s feet. Kilon quickly hides these as well.
When Arek has retrieved everything he needs, he turns back to us and says, “Safe up,” while he places several weapons within his clothing. Slowly the shelves rise to the ceiling until it is invisible once again. “Code on,” he says. He reaches my side, “Wait here, until I come to get you.”
“How long?” I ask nervously.
He looks at me carefully. “Willow, nothing can happen in here, I promise you. You will be safe.”
Just out of curiosity, I test the handle on the door once he leaves and as expected, it doesn’t budge. In a room with nothing, five minutes can seem like an eternity. So after nearly an hour, I am studying the ceiling. There are several places with defined margins of possible dropping walls. “Safe down,” I test out hesitantly. Nothing happens. “Code off,” I say. Nothing happens for just a few seconds, until suddenly I hear a woman’s voice: “Waiting for code.” Just then the door opens and Arek looks at me with a sideways glance.
“You expect it to be so easy?” he says.
“I was bored.” His tension is palpable in his tired eyes. “I thought seeing you would make me feel better, but it doesn’t,” I say quietly.
In seconds we stand just inches from each other, but neither cares to move away. He searches my eyes.
“What?” I ask. Hope and fear often look too alike to differentiate.
“He is here.”
“The Monarch?”
“Sort of. The Electi,” he nods.
“You look worried. Should I be worried?”
