I stepped closer to him and I looked him in the eye. “Who are you? La Barbe bleue? The so-called Bluebeard? The wealthy violent man who marries and kills one wife after another? Em?”
I wished I were a telepath. I would have spoken into his mind and that would have been more torturous to him. Having my angry shrill voice yelled into his mind, well, that would quite a punishment. But, on the other hand, me spurting those words out helped me vent and steam off. I felt calmer and prouder of myself.
He kept silent, following me while I was running and yelling around his own place, spitting out insults to him and provoking him. I wanted to know how furious he was with me. And I wanted to make sure my safety was still granted and that he was not going to attack me.
It was not fury or rage what I felt coming from his heart. “Does he even have one?” I thought. On the contrary, I felt humiliation, shame, and desperation.
He looked sad. He said he had regretted not telling me the truth from the beginning. He had chosen to keep silent and let his soul speak for him. And, darn, his soul was in pain.
Instinctively I opened my mouth to utter a word of comfort, but he put his finger on my lips in a signal to keep silent.
“Someone is downstairs,” he whispered. “Stay here and close the door. And don’t get out whatever happens downstairs,” he said as he moved carefully towards the door.
“I cannot use telepathy anymore; the gift is gone,” he said before he closed the door behind him. I stood there gasping in the empty bedroom, flabbergasted by the turn of the events, frightened to death.
I had suffered a major fail. I had seen nothing of those coming. I ought to allow myself to act, whatever that could mean.
A loud “bang” made me jump and my heart raced like a crazy horse. The entire building was shaken when its walls were hit by something massive, and glasses were broken in an eerie crunching sound. He needed my help, but I was not brave enough to get out of my hiding place. Me, the snarky, sarcastic, short-tempered gal who had just disgraced him, I did not have the guts to step out of the room that kept me safe and help him face whatever that was breaking the mansion down was.
Another loud “bang” was this time accompanied by Arthur’s cry of pain.
“That’s it. I’m going out,” I muttered and cracked open the door enough to take a glance at the battle that was taking place in the once luxurious living room. I could not see much though, so I took a deep breath and I stepped hesitantly into the corridor and tiptoed to the staircase. A bright light flashed the space as Arthur dragged his dagger out of his pocket to defend himself from a huge black-clad man’s knife attacks.
Arthur stayed still until his opponent got closer to him, and then with a quick move, he ducked and grasped him by the knees. With all his strength, Arthur pulled his opponent’s legs up and sent him flying onto his back. A quick move and he wrapped his arm around the man’s jaw. Trying to defend himself, the stranger attempted a thrust at Arthur’s chest right when Arthur rammed his dagger into his opponent’s neck. The man passed away without knowing that his own dagger had penetrated Arthur’s ribs. Once the stranger had given his last breath, his entire body was scorched down and disintegrated into a pile of black ashes.
With his dagger still flashing into his hand, Arthur lost his balance and collapsed.
“Oh my Gosh,” I cried and ran through smashed pieces of glass, and broken furniture to get to him.
“They’ve found us. And they want you.” The words came out of his mouth with a struggle.
I knelt down and gently I put his head on my lap. “You don’t look good,” I said softly.
“I got stabbed with a Carnwennan dagger.” He started coughing uncontrollably.
“What does that mean?” I asked but deep inside I knew what the answer would be.
“A Carnwennan dagger is one of the few things in this world that can cause the death of a Time Hopper,” he said.
I brushed his brown hair with my fingers and swiped a bead of sweat that rolled down from his forehead. “But that’s not the case with you. You are not going to die,” I whispered.
“I’m afraid the end is close for me. I am okay with that. I am only sorry that I will not be able to honor my promise to you. I promised to protect you, Gwen. I hope you forgive me.” His body shivered on my lap.
“This can’t be the end. This was supposed to be the beginning. We just met.” My eyes watered as I remembered the quarrel that we had only a few minutes ago, when I was ready to leave and shut the door behind me with a “bang”. Guilt took over my heart and my soul cried sensing the pain of his body and his heart.
“I’ve never met a girl like you. Believe when I say that. I am not flirting with you, nor flattering you. There is something deep in your soul, something that even you do not know exists that draws me to you. It is something in your past, Gwen, something that waits to be discovered. Something that our rivals suspect it exists.” Moving his hands with difficulty, he gave me his Carnwennan dagger.
“Keep
