Chapter 44 – Furari Magicae (Fatima Ashlynn POV) Pt. 3

Curling in on myself, my hand lay out on a pillow of it own, I sigh as my stomach protests, louder than my grunt. Still drowsy, I roll onto my back, my eyes opening and adjusting to the low light. Pushing myself up into a seated position, I focus on my right –casted – hand.

Shouldn't have hit her, I think angrily. No, that's not it; I shake my head regretting that.

I meant to hit Cynthia.

As I remember the moment, I close my eyes, the image of her face and fake happiness to see me imprinted in my mind. Her blonde hair framing her face, the fake chin wobbling, the way she called my name. In that loving caressing tone, although I all I could see what the woman that left me.

I wanted nothing to do with her but now she was closer than ever. In town somewhere at a hotel.

With her comes Andy though, I thought wondering if he remembered me. I was the older one, I'm sure that he doesn't recall more than I did.

What happened now?

The scenarios in my head were nothing I saw myself wanting to do. Spending time with Cynthia? No. Getting to indirectly know Cynthia? No.

Getting to know her family? Did I want to meet them? In the quiet of the night, the truth was I didn't. Why would I want to meet the girls that she was a true mother too while she left me behind? Or the children she had while I was locked up on the mountain?

No. I didn't want to meet them, learn more about them.

Would Ansel and Kalenah force me? After all, I was not family, and they were. Sitting facing the door, I peek to the left, looking into the light just outside of my door. Then my clock to my right.

When a shadow moves, I'm instantly on guard and I whip my head to check the time again. Why would someone be out there at this time? I can answer my own question in seconds though.

I was sick as a dog, and Kalenah took up siting in the corner of my room the whole time. I mean each time I woke she was there. As though keeping vigil.

I look down at my right hand. Maybe she was worried about my hand?

Why isn't she sitting in the corner then? I ask myself and immediately frown after. I'm not a little child that needs monitoring, but the thought stops me cold.

Did I really just ask why Kalenah was not sitting in the corner of my room? Really?

"Why would they be carrying her in here?" I hear Samson's voice, startling me. Not paying attention to his words, I slowly push myself up, lifting my casted hand up to my chest.

My stomach protests, making it self known again, that I needed to eat something.

Anything at this point, even something Kalenah prepared. I'm just to the door when the hallway light shuts off. Opening the door fully, Samson comes to stand two feet away from me, hair wild, and black framed glasses on.

"It's late," I whisper.

Tilting his head to the side, a slow smile forming, he glances at my hand, before meeting my eyes again.

"Hand hurting?"

"Hungry," I correct. His eyes widen, and he stands up straight, "what are you in the mood for?"

"What were you doing out here?" I double back, looking around though now only the light from down the stairs and outside was keeping the area lit.

Keeping guard? I immediately snort internally.

His eyes slide to the window then back to me. "Uhm, I don't want," he stammers putting me on guard. Warily looking from the window then back at Samson, I almost take a step to look for myself.

"What's wrong?" I read his body language correctly I'm sure.

"Please don't run," he begs, pleading with his blue eyes, taking a step towards me, reaching for my good hand. My brows furrow and I glance away at the window again, "Run?"

"I – uhm – I don't exactly know what's going on, but I think-" my stomach protests again and Samson stops speaking. "Okay, how about... are you tired?"

I tip my head to the side not following his line of questions. Was he purposely jumping from topic to topic to confuse me?

"No?" I respond weakly.

Smiling, he nods. "Okay so, how about a movie in the theatre, and I'll bring the food. Popcorn, drinks, and I'll make sandwiches?"

"It's late."

The smile on his face that sends my heart racing, my stomach flipping pleasantly, remains. "We don't have school."

"And you're not trying to change subjects?"

"I'll tell you what I know," he shrugs, but that playful smile turns serious. "But you have to promise not to run..."

"Or... if you do run," he pauses, "I come with you."

"Where would I run too?"

"Sometimes it's more about what you're running from," Samson sighs.

You've been running a lot Fatima, I mentally whisper to myself. That's the truth though. What other way was there? My memories were all scattered but at the same time, Dmitri hadn't done a single thing to keep me from remembering – heck I now recalled telling him that the air was poisonous.

I was really the one running.

Dmitri might have hidden me away, but I was already hiding. When Walsh found me, I knew that there were no parents out in the world searching for me.

There was no one.

I knew that, but now, here was Cynthia and she was the one that left me.

Warmth caresses my face, making me focus on the person in front of me. "You okay?" Samson whispers, searching my eyes for the answers.

Intense and worried.

"One movie, and snacks," he nods slowly, "nothing already opened," I add on softly. After all Cynthia was around... Danny had came to the hospital and said that they were at the hotel or lodge.

Quickly we escape down to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of waters, apple juice, a bag of already popped popcorn, and caramel apples.

In the darkness, my good hand in Samson's, we hurry to the basement, slipping into the theater room, dropping our loot of food on the large foot of one of the sofas. Crawling in on my knees, the plush material, forming around me, I scoot to the far left, opening my caramel apple before Samson came to sit near me, the remote controls in his hands, the lights dimmed.

Instead of finding a movie he turns the white screen on, but leaves it gray, the silence in the room building.

"Cynthia and Danny," I had been lifting my apple to my mouth but it freezes in mid-air. Had I been right? Would the family force me to be around them?

"Relax Fatima," Samson says though I'm not sure he understands just how I'm feeling right now.

Hell!

I could not even be sure.

But just hearing her name said by someone now, after everything that had happened was giving me heart palpitations.

When I just drop the apple in my hand to the container, pushing it away and turning fully to Samson, he sighs.

"I was sitting outside of your room, and well, I saw uncle Danny and Jonah fighting. I jimmied the window open a bit and when dad came," he swallows.

"Mom and dad will protect you Fatima," Samson says with so much seriousness that it throws me. How could he possibly know what my fears were at this very moment though?

"Cynthia and Danny, I think they were going to leave and call the Elders," he says but his mouth snaps closed right after. I observe Samson for a while, first concentrating on the intenseness of the look in his eyes.

Next, the way his body remains stiff as though somehow he had stopped breathing and become a statue.

Finally, his jaw twitches, as the blues in his eyes lessen, and the gray grows.

I remember this look, I think, having a 'ah ha' moment. Oddly, Samson's words are not registered until after I've put a title on this Samson.

He is angry.

This is the exact look he had when he was telling Taylor to stay away from him. Except now, it was directed towards Danny and Cynthia.

Call the Elders? Those words. The ones that Samson actually said hit me weirdly as though not making sense. "Call the Elders? I thought you said-" I cut myself off, lifting my hand to hold my head when a memory dings inside of my mind. As though it's a pinball and my skull is the machine.

"You cannot twust the Elweders Dmitri," I pant, inhaling quickly twice to control the pain.

Breath through it.

"Cannot trust the Elders," I whisper the words aloud now. Still breathing heavily, as though I've just run for my life. "What just happened?"

"Did you hear me? Or –or-"

I grimace, as I shake my head. "No – no. I just had a memory of Dmitri and I. I was telling him that you cannot trust the Elders."

Samson nods, opening one of the waters and giving it to me. "Have you," he says slowly as I sip from the bottle, I stop when he does, waiting. "Have you ever met the Elders?"

I give him a dubious look.

"If I did I cannot remember it, but I just knew they couldn't be trusted in the memory."

"Well," Samson says resting back, glancing away for a second or two. When he turns back to me, his eyes carry more than just the emotion for this discussion. "You aren't wrong. They're very self-serving. I'm not sure how they all ended up with the power they have," he shrugs, "I mean there are stories and my parents have told us but, I guess what I wonder is how they went from being these good people chosen-"

"They are not the Chosen Ones," I interrupt, the words blurted out and seriously too. Blinking, I'm just as alarmed as Samson. "Of course they are," he says nodding.

"The Alpha King he picked them, they were given power by the Gods."

"They stole magic from Faes," I say not knowing how I know what I'm saying.

"Is this part of the Independents and Loyalists?" I blink, closing my eyes in concentration. I'm already slowly shaking my head from side to side as I try and piece more of the world I thought was real and this one.

Nervously, I place the cap back on the bottle of water, setting it between my crossed legs.

"So tell me again Faith?" Dmitri probed gently. With wide eyes, I remember...

"I couldn't believe that Dmitri didn't know the truth," I whisper to Samson my eyes still remaining closed. "I mean how could he be so big and not know that the Elders were bad?"

"Big?" Samson parrots in a low murmur. Opening my eyes, I get locked in his curious blues. "Yes, I mean grown up. I was little and he was bigger than me," I shrug.

"Kid logic," he answers confidently. Of course he's not wrong.

Dmitri was big and I was small.

"So you always just knew the Elders were bad?" I nod. "But you cannot remember why or who told you?"

I'm just about to say, 'no,' but then I hold off. Truth was I did not have a clear memory of being told but lately I was getting more memories of the dark skinned man named Wyatt.

I'm sure she knew who that was though-

"What were you saying about your uncle Danny and Cynthia?" I ask abruptly. Samson's eyes bulge a bit before he swallows though I haven't seen him put anything in his mouth.

"I – I think because she was going to call the Elders for you Fatima, that dad, grandpa Jonah and mom were – are – going to keep her locked in our dungeon-"

"Dungeon?" They had a dungeon? Where? Why hadn't they put me there?

"Because we aren't Loyalists and you aren't someone that is planning on hurting the family Fatima. We trust you, like we all hope you can come to trust us. We – we more than trust you," Samson utters softly.

Can he read my mind now?

"We care deeply for you. I care deeply for you Fatima." I watch Samson with a bit of fascination. Trying to watch his lips purse to say my name, as well as his eyes because his words are reflected there.

The intensity both draws me in, and frightens me.

Not in the way that makes me want to run however. My heart is pounding so loudly that I can almost hear it. Which means Samson can most definitely hear it.

My mouth goes dry.

So I nod.

My heart keeps racing. I almost believe that it's going to go this way forever as it is now. But again, this time it's for the right reasons? Right?

When I was alone on the mountain, sometimes the worry would get the best of me. My pulse would quicken, my chest would feel as though someone was sitting on it. Now, my heart was racing as it did back there.

But the fear was not as great.

The seriousness and stiffness leaves Samson after what feels like hours, a small boyish smile replacing it.

Exhaling, my entire body slouches and unexpectedly to our left the theater doors are slammed opened, hitting the wall sharply. Frightened, I yelp out, throwing myself backwards and over the armrest I had been leaning against.

"Oh thank god," Kalenah's voice rings out, almost crying. For an evil second, my mind retreats back, "danger!" It shouts. But aside from the palpitations Kalenah caused I find I'm okay. The dimly lit room fills with light and as it does Kalenah rushes towards Samson and I, her cheeks wet.

I notice nothing else before her arms envelop me.

"I thought – you two had run," she gasps out, letting me go after a brief squeeze turning to Samson, who just scowls at his mother.

"Did you check for the cars?" he asks her.

Ansel comes running into the room before she can answer, relief on his face as well. "What are you guys doing down here?" he asks and I immediately freeze.

"You can be punished if you're out after dark," the reminder of the world rules I thought I knew is brought to the front of my mind. Granted Samson and I weren't outside, we were out of bed.

I'm still in my head working myself up to a panic when I hear Kalenah, "Obviously Ansel," I blink at her tone – firm, almost like she is gritting out the words. As though she knew we were here the whole time and didn't run in here in a sobbing panic. "They're watching a movie," I catch her waving at our snacks and the screen though there's nothing playing.

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So... they didn't run away... so... that means... Lydia... Faith... Furari Magicae... Goodnight!! :)