Eternal Youth (25 page)

“G
ood morning, Callie!” Gretta greeted her outside the temple the next morning. She looked like a hippie in her gauzy purple skirt and matching shirt with her long gray hair down around her torso. Not for the first time, Callie thought she needed to meet Gran. The two would get along great.

Callie felt like there was a brick on her head. It had seemed like no sooner than she’d fallen asleep, the sun had come up and the neighborhood roosters had begun their morning symphony. She’d had little sleep, and even back in the real world, Callie on no sleep was not a happy person.

“Hi, Gretta,” she answered glumly.

Gretta frowned. “Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Ah. Well, today shouldn’t be much work at all. You’re going to shadow Maire, and she has solely a paper-pushing desk job.”

Callie forced a smile.
Another boring day
. “Lovely.”

Maire’s office was so small it couldn’t be classified as anything but a closet. Even the happily flickering oil lamp on her desk couldn’t dispel the feeling of claustrophobia.

Maire was a handsome woman, small but with an obvious air of authority. She had her brown hair bobbed around her long face, and her green eyes crinkled when she smiled. “Calista. Pleasure meetin’ ye.”

“You, too,” Callie answered, tickled by the woman’s Irish brogue.

“Have a seat there, love, and we’ll get started.”

Callie tuned most of the woman’s instructions out as she thought of Alaric, and how excited she was to see him. He’d promised to meet her for lunch again. Callie hoped that would become a regular thing, because just the thought of hours away from him was terrible.

“Do ye think you understand, Calista?” Maire asked, eyeing Callie over her desk. Even though it was rather tiny, it still dwarfed her.

“Um, yeah. Yes, of course.” Callie smiled. She had no idea what the woman had said, but Callie was
really
good at faking it.

Maire’s face was doubtful, but she shrugged and pushed a stack of folders across the desk. “Alright, then. Left, then right, and then your second left. Just give them to Patricia.”

Taken aback, Callie stared at the folders.
Crap
. “Okay.”

She gathered the folders, taking her time in case Maire decided to reiterate any pertinent information. When she didn’t, Callie smiled and left the office.

No big deal
, Callie told herself.
I’ll just ask someone to point me in the direction of Patricia. Easy.

Except, of course, it wasn’t that easy. Callie didn’t pass a single living soul in the hallway outside Maire’s office. She took her first left, sure she was on the right track and positive she’d meet someone in the new hallway.

But, again, the place seemed strangely deserted. The hallway twisted left and then back to the right at a slight incline, so that Callie felt she was climbing higher in the temple. The torches were fewer and farther between, their flames framed by dark soot marks on the stone. Callie clutched her armful of folders, her heart beating faster.

I’m gonna get lost. They’ll find my half-rotten body three weeks from now, only they’ll have just a vague idea of how long it’s been because there are no damn calendars.

She came upon another hallway and forgot the second command she’d been given.
Right or left?
Callie stood for a minute, indecisive as she stared down both sides of the hallway.

Nobody in sight.

With a big sigh, she went left.

The ground angled steeper here, and it grew stuffier. Callie broke into an uncomfortable sweat and wished she hadn’t worn long pants to work.

A couple minutes passed before Callie heard any sign of life. Faint voices sounded from further up the hall, where a pool of light spilled across the floor. Callie felt instant relief—she wasn’t going to keel over from heat exhaustion and die, lost in the temple. She’d just knock politely before entering the room and tell whoever was inside that she was new and had become hopelessly lost.

The voices grew clearer the closer she got, and she was almost certain that one of them was Darren.

“What about security?”

His voice drifted into the hall, and Callie halted her steps, raising an eyebrow.
Security? Why would we need security?
Alaric had specifically told her there was no crime in Aionia. It was a relative Utopia.

Callie thought it sounded like Josie, Alaric’s sister, who answered. She recognized the thick country accent. “Planned, sir. We’ll station units at each port for the full night. They’ll have strict instructions that not a single body is to sail the water.”

“Good, good. And, Gretta, any headway on the portmasters?”

“Yes. They’re going to post notice this weekend so the fishermen are aware of the closure with plenty of time to prepare.”

“That’s fantastic. Thanks so much for your work in that,” Darren said cheerfully.

“They’re cooperating fully, of course. You did well in placing those men and women,” Gretta replied, her voice full of respect.

“Should we expect any problems this year?” Darren went on, his voice lower. “We don’t want a repeat of—”

“No, sir,” Josie’s twang answered. “My soldiers are prepared for the worst. No one will be on the water, and if they try…” she trailed off.

There was a long pause before Darren spoke up. “Good girl. If they try, your men and women have permission to shoot on sight.”

Callie covered her mouth with a hand to hide her gasp.
What the hell is going on?
she thought, backing slowly to the wall and propping herself against it. It almost sounded like they were planning on going into
battle
, but Alaric had sworn the Aionians were kind people. There were no enemy clans or threat of invasion; the island was alone in the world. Nobody could even
leave
.

So, why were they shutting down the harbor ports?

She took a deep breath, and the movement of her chest dislodged the stack of folders beneath her one arm. In slow motion, she watched as one folder tumbled to the floor and skittered—loudly—across the stone.

“What was that?” Darren barked. “Josie.”

Soft footsteps sounded from the illuminated room. Her heart pounding from her chest, Callie stooped to snatch the folder from the floor and then turned on her heel, running full speed back the way she came.

Callie was sitting on a cool, stone bench outside the government building when Alaric strolled out, the heavy wood door slamming shut behind him.

“Afternoon, beautiful.”

Just the sight of him—his messy blond hair and his beautiful eyes, so big and bright—was balm for Callie. She stood and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

“Well, hello.” He chuckled and gave her a bear hug. Pulling away, he settled a soft kiss on her lips, brushing her hair from her face. “Rough day or something?”

“Or something.” Callie shrugged. “Could we go somewhere private to talk?”

Alaric lost his smile, and his voice was worried when he answered, “Um, yeah. Of course.”

“It’s not about you,” Callie rushed to reassure him. She tiptoed, planting another, more passionate kiss on him. “It’s about something I heard today that I’m kinda freaked about.”

He let out a breath, and then laughed. “You really scared me there for a minute.” Running his hands down both of her arms, Alaric murmured, “I just got you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Staring into his gorgeous eyes, Callie wondered,
Is this what it’s like to fall in love?

“There’s a deli close by. It’s rarely crowded, but the sandwiches are great. How does that sound?”

Callie nodded. “Perfect.”

There were only two other people in the deli: an elderly man hidden by a sepia-toned newspaper, and a curvy, middle-aged lady with ebony hair scribbling furiously on a notepad. After ordering at the counter—chicken salad for Alaric and a veggie wrap for Callie—they took an empty corner booth, putting distance between them and the other two patrons.

Callie told Alaric about the conversation she’d overheard in the temple.

When she was finished, he sat back heavily in his chair, his forehead crinkled. “You said my sister was there? Are you sure?”

“Well, first it was just a guess because of her heavy accent, but then Darren spoke her name, right after I dropped the folder.” Callie shrugged. “It was her.”

Alaric rubbed his face and sighed. “First I’ve heard of anything like this. I’ll talk to Josie tonight, but if it’s confidential, I doubt she’ll tell me. I might have to do some snooping to find out.” He paused and leaned forward on the table, crossing his arms in front of him. “You’re
absolutely
sure of what you heard?”

“I know what I heard, Alaric,” Callie said, exasperated.

“Okay.” He put his hands up in supplication. Reaching across the table, Alaric took hold of her hands and caught her gaze. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. It’s probably just some kind of drill.”

“I don’t know about that,” Callie murmured, and took a bite of her wrap. Like every other meal she’d eaten with him, the food was delicious. She could only guess that was because everything was fresh and organic.

Callie wasn’t convinced it was a drill, but the fact that he agreed to look into it made her feel better. There wasn’t any reason for the paramilitary to mobilize, and if there was…Callie wanted to know why.

She took a deep breath and glanced around the room, startled to find the black-haired woman watching her. For a brief moment, she worried that the woman had heard their conversation—though her face showed no obvious emotion—but Callie doubted it. She and Alaric had both used near-whispers. Shaking off her worry, she turned back to his handsome face.

“I took my family to the fountain last night. After you left.” Callie said it casually as she took a sip of her juice, and watched his face to gauge his reaction.

“I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait.” Alaric chuckled, his sandwich between his hands. “How did they handle it?”

“As expected—initial disbelief that turned into excitement.” Callie giggled. “I don’t think anyone got a wink of sleep last night, least of all my mother.”

The woman from inside the deli was propped against the front of the building when they exited after their meal. She pushed away from the stone, her long, white pants billowing like a skirt around her ankles, and offered a hand to Callie. “Good afternoon.”

“Um. Ditto,” Callie responded, shaking her hand. “Can I help you?”

“Walk with me,” the woman responded with a sincere smile. “Both of you.”

Alaric and Callie exchanged glances, and he shrugged.

The woman led them down the block and turned onto a small side street that was less crowded. The buildings were closer together, forming a dim, almost tunnel-like thoroughfare. The woman motioned for them to take a seat with her on a dusty bench next to an empty shop.

“My name is Charlotte Rossier,” she said, crossing her legs and letting her shoulder bag fall to the ground.

The name rang a bell. Callie searched her memory. “The author? The romance author?”

Charlotte beamed. “Why, yes, I am. Have you read my books?”

Callie shook her head sheepishly. “No, sorry. But, my grandmother was reading one of them the other day.”

“Ah, well. I do hope she enjoyed it. What are your names?”

“I’m Callie, and this is Alaric.”

Charlotte nodded, and then her face turned serious. “I overheard your conversation in the deli.”

“Overheard?” Alaric sounded amused.

“Eavesdropped,” Charlotte corrected with a wink. She pursed her lips, her eyes on Callie. “You might call me a…conspiracy theorist. I’m not just a writer of romance; I’m an investigative journalist. Or, I was”—her voice was subdued—“back in my old life.”

“So…what? You think what Callie overheard was some kind of conspiracy?” Alaric scoffed. “Aionia is a peaceful, open nation.”

“With a fountain that stops age and heals all wounds that
no one
talks about,” Callie retorted.

Visibly taken aback, Alaric shifted on the bench and cleared his throat. “Touché.”

Charlotte hid a smile behind her hand. “Erm, yes. There’s that.”

“Okay, so…conspiracy theory. What did you have in mind?” Callie asked her.

“I think you’re right, Callie,” Charlotte said, lowering her voice. “I think there’s a way off this island, and I’m certain the government is keeping that secret from us.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Alaric shook his head, sliding an arm around Callie. “I’ve worked for the parliament for almost a hundred years. If something like that existed, I’d know about it.”

“Would you?” Charlotte responded dryly. “I know who you are, Alaric. You’ve been Darren’s lackey as long as you’ve been on this God-forsaken island. But that’s all you’ve ever been—and all you will ever be. As long as those six remain in power, there’s no room for moving up. No room for being privy to Aionia’s secrets.”

“Aionia
has
no secrets,” Alaric retorted.

Callie put a calming hand on his knee and shook her head. “Alaric, come on. You’re being stubborn. Don’t blindly disbelieve what Charlotte has to say.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why are you so certain that there’s a way out?”

“If you can get in,” Charlotte interrupted. “There has to be a way out. Period.”

“How long have you been here, Charlotte?” Callie asked.

“Fifty years this month.” Charlotte opened her hands to the sky. “I’ve done my best to make it a good life. For the first time, my books have been published. There’s likely nothing left for me back in Utah because my daughter is here with me, but I miss it. I miss home.

“I’ve seen a lot and heard a lot,” she went on, leaning forward to address Callie specifically. “And I’ve come to a conclusion.”

Callie’s heart pounded. “Yeah?”

“I have reason to believe that there is a hidden chamber in the government building that houses a book as old as Aionia, and that book gives instructions on how to get out. What I need you to do, Callie, is find that book. And steal it.”