Secrets of the Guardian (Waldgrave Book 3) (25 page)

Griffin was smirking. Lena wasn’t sure why, at first, but then he reached into his back pocket and withdrew a few small pieces of paper, folded in half. Lena recognized them immediately. It was the will she had written in the cabin. “I’ve known you since we were children, Lena, and you’re right—you wouldn’t say it if you didn’t have proof. You don’t believe in faith. I don’t even need to know what it is, because you wouldn’t have written this otherwise. I know you well enough to trust this.”

“I lied.” She said quickly, trying not to stare too intently at the confessions in his hands. “I lied to make you happy.”

“On your deathbed? I don’t think so.” His smirk had grown into an almost menacing grin as he reread her notes. “Classic. Just classic. So I’m going to ask you one more time, and then I really will bring on the interrogation. Is there anything you wish to share with me regarding my son?”

“You wouldn’t. You need me to pull this off.” She said, hoping she was right.

Griffin was still smiling. At her. It was an odd thing to see after so much time apart, so much dispute between them. “Perhaps. I can think of another way to test if he’s a Daray.”

Lena raised her eyebrows; she wanted to believe he wasn’t so reckless as to bring the portal into it, but she knew he was. “And if my last information stands, Jason Rivera is sitting on top of it. So good luck with that. Not that I would ever let you—not that I would ever let you do any of this! 
My
 son is not going to be your political leverage.”

“And you’re going to stop me how?” He said in his usual arrogant tone.

She racked her brain for something that sounded plausible, but he was just so far ahead of her—every time she threw something out he already had a response. He knew things she hadn’t counted on him even being able to know. “Paternity tests might not be very accurate for us, Griffin, but I’m betting they’re accurate enough. And with my word as well, no one will believe you. There were plenty of others that went on that trip with us.”

Griffin was silent for a moment as they both looked down at Brandon. Then his eyes wandered back up to her face.
 
I know you wouldn’t. You need me to pull this off.

“I’m not going to let you do this.” She said, silently praying that her nonchalant tone didn't sound too forced.

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.” His smile was somehow familiar…greedy. He got up from his chair and started for the door. “We do this my way…you cannot lead. You’ll cooperate because we both know it makes it easier with your cooperation, but in fact, I don’t need your cooperation anymore. With him, I don’t need 
you
 anymore.”

As the door clicked shut, Lena looked down. Brandon had fallen asleep on her; she was a little surprised that he had handled everything so well. She had been screaming at Griffin, so angry and upset that she could have tried to kill him, and he hadn’t even peeped. She gently shifted him from her chest onto the bed next to her, in the crook of her arm, just as they had slept in the shelter together.

Griffin couldn’t be serious…except that he could. The person he had been to her in the past seemed only a distant memory; he was acting like her grandfather, and she knew why. The evidence that he was only out to help himself was mounting. He had allowed Rollin to shoot her, and he never would have before. He had just found out that the religion was true, and all it meant to him was that it gave him power. Lena wasn’t sure, but she was fairly certain he had just threatened her life; what he had said was true. As long as people believed Brandon was the heir, he no longer needed her.

Already, Lena was thinking of an escape. Her brain was busy with thoughts of how she could get herself and Brandon away from this place, wherever they were, before…

But before what? The path she sought to escape was an unexplored one.  The echoes couldn't help her predict something that had never happened before--there was no past to learn from.

There was a knock at the door, and Doctor Evans had come in before she could call a response.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he walked toward the bed.

“A little sore.” She responded, somewhat despondently.

“Lie flat.” He instructed. Lena complied, and he started to check her over by pushing on various spots of her abdomen. “I have no idea how much you remember of the last time we spoke. Do you remember my explaining to you about the child?”

“No.” Lena winced as he hit a sore spot below her belly button.

“Hmm…” He pulled forward the chair that Griffin had previously occupied and sat down, pulling his ankle up to rest on his knee. “Morphine can do that. Master Corbett specifically requested that I keep you under as much as possible because of the potential complications from the hypoxia and anoxia you suffered as a result of a collapsed lung. It's a nasty way to go—you might remember from your encounter a few years ago. Our pulmonary systems have designed themselves to be flushed with oxygen to accommodate the additional strains on our nervous systems caused by the constant need to exude and interpret telepathic signals from those around us. If the oxygen stops—hypoxia—the body undergoes emergency repair in critical areas like the brain. The combination of new blood vessels springing up in an already crowded network, combined with the random firing of neurons everywhere, can cause extreme anxiety and incredibly vivid hallucinations. While I treated you for your last close call, the incident with Master Astley, your grandfather refused the use of any drugs that might put you out. The room you were in was almost directly below the Council chambers the trial was held in; I think he wanted them to feel your angst. But as I said, you’ve been receiving a steady stream of pain killers and sedatives this time, and I trust there have been no adverse side effects? Hallucinations of a visual or auditory nature, disorientation, loss of balance, headaches, amnesia, or other changes? Anything like that?”

“Headaches.” Lena said dully. “But probably not caused by anything you’re talking about.”

“I see,” the doctor smiled. “Onward we go then. The second bullet we’ve already discussed. It caused us considerable problems in the beginning, but as you may have noticed, the puncture wound has completely healed over. Your lung is fine; you will probably have some residual pain from tissue reformation for a few more weeks. Now, the first bullet—after we stemmed the bleeding, we ignored it for several hours until your ability to breathe normally was restored. The first bullet has caused many more problems—it entered through your lower abdomen there, and I would like to say that you were lucky. It could have hit a lot of things that would have been very difficult to repair, but instead it hit…Well, the simple way to put this is that it entered your body, missing several vital organs, and lodged in your uterus, almost completely severing your left fallopian tube. We had to remove it, along with one ovary, to reduce the chances of complications arising from tissue regeneration.”

The doctor leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. He reached out and took hold of one of her hands, and spoke in a soft voice. Lena stared down at his hand on hers; it was such an intimate gesture coming from a man of science. She looked back up as the doctor started talking again, slower and quieter than before. “It won’t grow back. Reproductive organs are too complex. I tried very hard to save what I could of the rest, but you have to understand that fertility is a sensitive thing. and especially so in your family. Your mother could have told you. Scar tissue formed around her cesarean scar and prevented her from ever having more children. Your uterus is still mostly whole and there, and you still have one functioning ovary, but I doubt you will ever be able to conceive." He paused. "Again, I mean.”

The doctor was watching her with his unblinking stare.

“That’s…” She started. But then she stopped. She looked down at Brandon and ran her fingers across his fuzzy head. Was it great news?

“Master Corbett was extremely bereaved. Did he speak with you concerning this issue?”

Lena smiled ironically; she almost wanted to laugh. “No.”

“I would say that he’s been extremely worried about the both of you, but I’m not sure it’s my place.”

Lena looked up. The doctor was smiling kindly.

“He doesn’t care about us. We’re just ideas to him—we’re just the things that give him power.” She spat.

*****

The doctor shook his head. “You almost didn’t make it and he knows it. If it hadn’t been for the child, you might not have.”

Lena looked up. “What?”

The doctor gave her hand back and clasped both of his over one knee. “I don’t see it often in today’s society; most parents of your social status avoid it at any cost because of the risks. It’s the reason many parents elect to distance themselves from their spouse and children—this connection you’ve formed with the child—Brandon, is it?—it’s an addiction. One of the only ones Silenti are capable of falling victim to. You’re addicted to each other’s presence because you’ve spent so much time together. As you’ve seen, he has failed to thrive in your absence over the last month, but now that you’re back, he’s fine. Keeping him close to you helped you stay calm through the surgeries, though I’m afraid to say he must have found it rather disturbing. You should know that Master Corbett feels you’ve spoiled him because he wouldn’t eat for anything without you; you’ve got to understand that if you had died, it could have been catastrophic for a child as young as he is. Master Corbett is in favor of severing the bond you share, for that reason, and because it’s not fitting for a family of your situation. It’s only common to see this sort of behavior in children born to human-born mothers, because they don’t have the option of sending their children away and emotional attachment is much more acceptable in that culture. But that’s why we had removed him to the far side of the house; I’m afraid I’ll have to take him away with me again when I go, as per my patron’s orders.”

Lena looked into the doctor’s eyes, hoping to detect some trace that he would continue to say there was something she could do—but he was impassive. He was doing his job, as he always did. He had learned over the years not to get attached, because patients lived and died. His loyalty was to the paycheck, the only thing that undoubtedly allowed him to save more lives.

“Do you know who he is? He was born in South Carolina. At the residence of…my grandmother’s sister, was it?” Lena asked, nodding at Brandon, her throat gone dry.

The doctor pursed his lips. “I can speculate.”

Lena was surprised by how steady her voice had remained. “Then you can speculate that Griffin isn’t the father, and he has no bearing on whether it’s the best thing to take him away from me. You won’t take him because you’ll only do it over my dead body. This is my son, and I’ll be making the decisions here, so you can go and tell that to Griffin. I’ve suffered a great deal over the last few years. I’ve been in exile. I’ve survived off of crackers for this child, and sometimes not even that. I’ve lied, stolen, and begged for him. I’ve slept in churches, homeless shelters, cars, and parks with him. I’ve seen other people lay down their lives for him and I would do the same, so when I say that you are not taking this child from me, I mean not now and not ever. I’ve suffered many losses in my time. I’ve been strangled, kidnapped, and shot. Twice. I’m still here, and I’m damn near untouchable with everything I’ve survived. So tell him and everyone else to bring it. I’m not afraid anymore. This is my son, and he can’t have him.”

The doctor, however, was seemingly unimpressed. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take it up with Master Corbett yourself. I understand he’s put you in a situation; he seems to have told you there will be dire repercussions if you refuse your cooperation with this process. If it’s any consolation to you, I’ve become very adept at treating withdrawal over the last few months, and he’ll be well taken care of.”

The doctor leaned back in his chair, but didn’t get up to leave. Lena looked over at him, annoyed, wondering if he was staying only to delay having to pry Brandon from her arms. But when their eyes met, his expression was still completely blank. He raised his eyebrows.

“You can leave now.” She said.

“As I’ve said, failing to thrive is a symptom of withdrawal in Silenti babies with cognitive addiction.” He sighed. “If you should happen to convince Master Corbett to allow this to continue, you should know that the symptoms in young children and adults can be at times quite similar and quite different—as I’ve said, it can give you unusual resistance to pain and injury, allowing you to survive and function, even in extreme situations, so long as he has you with him. Of course, it’s easier for babies to become addicted with a parent because they tend to spend so much time with their mothers, but it isn’t the only way. Diagnostically, it can happen to anyone who spends enough time with another person, or even has strong enough emotions surrounding another person for a long enough period of time. Without you, as an adult, he will no longer run the risk of laying down his own life if you are gone or die, but it will most certainly be difficult for him. He won’t be able to function. It will take him longer to heal. Miss Collins—Lena—what I’m trying to say here is that this child has the potential to hold a political office, and if he does and you two are for some reason separated, I would not expect him to be able to hold his office and station as is needed without your presence. The world could, potentially, fall apart. As a doctor, I cannot allow that to happen.” He stared at her as if this would change her mind.