The Water Queens (Keeper of the Water) (14 page)

Once Jane is in the ground, Babe helps the other two finish burying Marilyn. John sits on the ground nearby; when I look at him, I don’t know what to think. He watches me with great concern and I don’t know whether that makes me
love
him more or
hate
him more. I sit down beside him, feeling exhausted in every way but physically, as energy still courses through my body. A combination of this energy and emotional fatigue has me on edge and there’s only one target I can aim my anger toward.

“It looks like Cassie is going to win,” I say, defeated. “Your plans to take over the world have been set in motion. I saw the way she looked so upset when she thought you died. I’m sure she’d love to see you still alive and would gladly take you back into her inner circle.”

I stare at Jane’s freshly dug grave the entire time I speak. I’ve been forced to dig too many of these recently and this is the
second
mentor I’ve buried. I turn to John, expecting a fight –
wanting
a fight – and I see a spark of anger explode in his eyes. I know I’m pushing him away, pushing love away, but it feels right to punish myself for all the failures I’m responsible for.

But before he says a word, the fire fades in his eyes. Gone are the looks of bitterness and acrimony I expect, the combativeness we’ve exchanged since the attack in the Everglades. Instead, he looks at me the way he did the first time we were alone in the woods near my old house, before I knew who I was and
what
I was and who he was, before any of this drama and tragedy, back when life was easier and the only worry I had was whether or not a boy liked me…

“I would rather spend
one
lifetime loving you than infinite lifetimes with all the power in the world,” he says with utter conviction.

My breath catches in my throat. For a single moment, every bad thing I’ve suffered floods into my mind. My heart aches but then swells, John’s love instantly wiping away everything bad. In that glorious moment, I remember the meaning of happiness. I lean in and kiss him, harder and more passionate than ever, a kiss to make me forget our audience, our surroundings, the carnage that happened nearby. I forget all of my anger, all of my sadness; I’m left with only the feeling of happiness and love. Though it’s only been a few days since the last time we kissed, it feels like a lifetime. I never want to risk losing this feeling again.

When I finally pull away, it’s like I’m seeing John with brand-new eyes; actually, it’s like I’m seeing him the same way as the first time on the lacrosse field when he helped me beat up a team of jocks. I smile at the memory.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m ready,” I say.

I exhale deeply after saying those two simple words. I feel lighter than I have in years.

“Ready for what?” John asks. But I don’t need to answer. His eyes look into mine and the tension in his face eases; he
knows
what I mean. “Are you sure?”

The fact that he sounds so concerned makes me certain this is the right decision. I nod without glancing at the other women.

“Ready for what?” Babe asks. “Do you have a plan to stop Cassie?”

I finally turn to the others, who’ve finished with Marilyn’s grave. The lightness I just felt in my heart is gone. I love them all – especially my two recruits – so telling them my decision might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I find the strength from John sitting beside me.

“Cassie was wrong about me being dead, but she
was
right about something she said a long time ago,” I say, tears already trickling from the corners of my eyes. “I am no longer an Amazon. It’s time that I realize that.”

Amelia steps forward. “But you’re still our mentor, our leader.”

“I’ll
always
be your mentor; that’s a bond I will cherish until the day I die,” I say, trying to keep my emotions under control. “But my role in the tribe has already gone on longer than it should have. I’ve chastised Cassie for trying to change our traditions but by staying beyond my role as Keeper, I was just as guilty as her. That’s why I must walk away now, I must do the same as every Keeper before me. I’m just relieved that I can walk away knowing the three of you – each one possessing skills making you ideal Amazons – can move forward without me and have the ability to decide how you want to continue the Amazonian way of life.”

Babe looks most surprised about my choice but Harriet and Amelia nod with acceptance.

“What will you do?” Amelia asks.

I step forward and hug the pilot.

“Live my life the best I can,” I say.

I approach Harriet next. Her jaw is still clenched, her eyes still narrowed, especially when she glances toward John. She doesn’t look like she wants a hug but before I can ask her, she throws her arms around me and squeezes tight.

“Thank you, Mentor, for everythin’,” she whispers. “I’m gonna do you real proud.”

I open my mouth to respond but she squeezes so hard I can’t get out a word. When she lets go, I can finally breathe again.

“Just make sure you do yourself proud,” I tell her.

I return to John but not before stopping to kneel near Jane’s final place of rest.

“Goodbye, Mentor,” I whisper so nobody can hear but Jane Austen.

I take John’s hand into mine and squeeze. I glance around camp one final time, knowing it will be the last time I ever see this place. I just wish it were still bathed in brilliant blue the way I’ve seen it so many times in the past.

Harriet doesn’t hesitate and quickly spots something in the nearby jungle. She waves over Amelia and Babe.

“We best get goin’,” Harriet says. “Think I gotta fresh trail over here.”

I stand still and watch the three speed off into the jungle, not before Amelia’s eyes meet mine and she frowns. When I look in the direction where they’re headed, I can tell they’re going the right way. My tracking instincts kick in and I can tell that a large movement of people has recently trudged through those woods; Cassie and the queens were never good at hiding their tracks. As much as I feel pulled toward following their trail, I stop myself from doing so, remind myself that the three
real
Amazons remaining are more than capable of tracking them down. Whether or not they can stop Cassie and get the water back to safety is a different story. I feel awful to run the opposite way from danger but this is the life I have to get used to now…

“Do you want to go with them?” John asks as if reading my mind.

Every fiber of my being wants to scream
yes
; I even find myself calculating how fast I’ll have to run to catch up with my recruits. But I shake my head, not changing my mind despite the guilt that will probably eat at me for a long time.

“I’m only going with you from now on,” I say.

I rest my head against his shoulder and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. John and I turn and walk in the opposite direction, though I have no idea where we’re going or when we’ll get there. Those are just a few of many questions I’ll have to figure out as I leave the life of an Amazon in the past…

SIX YEARS LATER

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“And that was it? You just walked away into the woods with Daddy?”

Janey looks at me with her eyebrow raised; she
doesn’t
like the ending of my story. Her reaction makes me smile at first but it’s not long before I also feel embarrassed. Even a child can sense there’s something off about how I ended my existence as an Amazon. I hope I haven’t told her too much.

At only five years of age, Janey Marie Leon is a beautiful little girl. I know every mother must think her daughter is the prettiest in the world but I really don’t think my love for her makes me biased. Janey looks twice her age, has a dark complexion and dark hair, fiery eyes like her father. I can already tell she’ll be a heartbreaker when she’s older but it’s the
boys
I feel sorry for; Janey is smart as a whip already, with intelligence far beyond her years. Not even
I
can pull a fast one by her anymore, which is clear after her current reaction.

Janey loves to hear stories when I put her to bed; we don’t exactly have a wealth of reading material so I started telling her the story of my life months ago and she’s asked for it every night since. But tonight is the first time she’s stayed awake long enough for me to reach the end. It’s getting hard to come to grips with Janey getting older, with the way she comprehends so much, the way she’s able to form her own opinions about life.

The suspicious way she looks at me is yet another reminder of her increasing mental independence.

“Yes, then your father and I walked away from that life to start a new one together,” I say.

Her brow furrows and she frowns. She stares intently into my eyes; I can feel her trying to figure me out. Her look of concentration makes me smile. If John were here, I’m sure he’d be warning me not to tell her
too
much of the truth about our past. I’ve never left out any details of the story but now that she’s reached the age where she remembers everything, I may need to start thinking about creating a new bedtime story, one she wouldn’t be likely to repeat.

At least she’s not around other people enough to blab about my past, though I know this isolation can’t last forever.

“Next time you make up a story, come up with a better ending,” Janey says. “Who just lets the bad guys get away?”

This time it’s my turn to frown. Even to a five-year-old, the ending is hard to accept. I’ve been completely honest with her up to this point so I consider telling her my reasons for walking away from Harriet and Amelia that night; truth is, the answer doesn’t sound adequate enough to admit. Not a day passes that I don’t think about my recruits, about where they are and whether they’re safe, whether they’ve been able to come up with a plan to stop Cassie…

Now that’s not saying I
regret
the decision I’ve made, especially considering the way it’s turned out. Soon after John and I walked out of the jungle – presumably for the last time – we began to travel the world, searching out the perfect spot to make the most of the rest of our lives. We returned to America first but quickly realized that wouldn’t work out; with the Internet and information too readily available, I was constantly on the lookout for news stories about Cassie and the queens. It also didn’t help that authorities were still searching for my family in connection to the police chase through the Poconos that caused so much damage and became a national story, especially the part about the biplane escape in Boulder Field.

I was becoming obsessed with my Internet searches, not to mention constantly worried about being recognized; I wanted to avoid run-ins with the police at all costs. This wasn’t the type of life John and I hoped to live, the kind of simple life where we could enjoy loving each other. The only way our life together could truly work was to put our past behind us. We headed to Europe next, using our enhanced speed and strength to stow aboard a cargo ship crossing the Atlantic; flying commercial wasn’t exactly an option. Neither of us had passports or any other type of official identification needed to book a trip by traditional means.

We stuck to the shadows of the large ship for nearly a week, sleeping when we could, pilfering food from the galley, spending countless hours atop a high stack of cargo crates, lying in each others’ arms under the stars. We were constantly under the threat of being caught; it was possibly the best week of my life. The thought of Amazons and special water still weren’t far from my mind but I never spent a moment away from John and he kept my mind –
and
body – preoccupied with
other
things,
wonderful
things…

By the time we reached land – somewhere in the south of France – we were both disappointed that our ‘cruise’ ended. Hand in hand, we leapt into the water a few hundred yards from land and swam to shore. We were close enough to Spain to run there in a day or so but John hadn’t been back to his homeland for centuries and I wasn’t ready to live in the place where he spent so many years with Isabella. I guess my jealousy issues never faded, even after I left the thought of Cassie behind.

We wandered around the Mediterranean for months, enjoying a laid-back lifestyle, eating local cuisine, sleeping any place we could. The only time I ever remembered being so happy was my years spent hunting on the open plains, though I never had someone to love me the way John did…

I knew I was pregnant the moment it happened. It wasn’t a physical sensation I experienced but somehow I still knew. After the fever that nearly killed me in my first life, I was unable to conceive children once I returned to my people on the plains. The water given to me by my mentor saved my life but hadn’t healed my womb. I never expected to carry a child again so I was shocked – and profoundly delighted – when it happened. The only theory I could conjure was that drinking enough water over so many years had fully healed every part of my body, including the parts needed to create and carry life.

If I was happy to be pregnant, John was downright thrilled. In his life as Ponce de Leon, the woman he married had several children that John claimed as his own. But only members of his family knew that the kids really belonged to another man. From the moment I told him, he became super protective of me, even though I still felt fast and strong as ever. Our lives changed forever at that moment and our carefree nomadic days came to a quick end.

John insisted we find a place to settle down. We both loved the lifestyle we’d grown accustomed to and decided to stay in the area. I ultimately made the final decision about where we lived, a place that brought me comfort from the past though John was hesitant at first to return to the scene of his biggest mistake.

“I think it’s time to get some sleep now, Janey,” I say.

She looks up at me and pouts, giving me her sad face. I know it’s an act but she still causes a twinge of guilt within me; if her father had been here, he undoubtedly would’ve fallen for her routine.

“But I’m not tired, Mom,” she says. “I’m five now; that’s practically an adult. Can you just read a book to me for a little while longer? It’s not even that late yet.”

“Are you seeing what I am outside?” I ask, pointing to her window.

The slats of her shutters are open, allowing a cool breeze to swirl into her room. We see the moon hanging large in the sky; from how high up we are, it seems much closer than when I’ve lived life closer to sea level. The moon shines its light across the valley. Between a pair of mountains in the distance, I see moonlight causing millions of sparkles dancing atop the sea.

“It’s not even
that
late,” Janey says, though we both knows that’s not the case. “Just a few pages?”

I sigh and frown; this only causes her big brown eyes to go wider. I realize that
I’m
the mother in this situation but it’s not like she’s staying up late to watch TV or play video games… not that we have any of that stuff here.

“Just a
few
pages,” I say to her delight.

Her smile melts my heart. No matter how much I try to deny it, I’m just as big a pushover as her father. Janey jumps up on her mattress and reaches to the small shelf built next to her bed. She owns about a dozen books – of which only a few are in English – but she grabs the same one as always. If I had any doubts about letting her stay awake a bit longer, they’re answered when she hands me the book.

“She has the same name I do,” Janey says, pointing to the cover:
Pride and Prejudice
by Jane Austen.

The book is well worn, though it wasn’t exactly new when I bought it at a small market several years ago. Holding the book makes me feel closer to the memory of my second mentor though I have to admit that when I tried to read it, I couldn’t stay focused enough to make it beyond more than a few pages. I’m certain Jane would’ve forgiven my literary shortcomings. It makes me happy – while at the same time somber – to know how much Jane would’ve loved Janey, and vice-versa. Plenty of the book’s pages are now dog-eared in the corners, though I’m not sure if Janey reads well enough to know some of these words.

“Do you know how many times I’ve tried to read this?” I ask. “I can barely get through a few pages without falling asleep.”

I silently apologize to Jane in my mind. My daughter sighs and takes the book from my hands.

“It’s my favorite book in the world,” Janey says. “If I read it to you, then you won’t fall asleep.”

“Where will you start?” I ask.

“The beginning,” she answers immediately.

Janey lies back in bed as she opens the book and begins to read.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife,” she reads.

I’m amazed by the ease with which she articulates some of the larger words; I doubt that
I
could say many of them without stammering. I stare at her with maternal swelling, a sensation I haven’t experienced in more than a century. Watching Janey inevitably brings up memories of Jean-Baptiste and Lizette, though I barely had the opportunity to enjoy my first two children because of my evil husband. I’m glad that Janey is reading now; I doubt I’d be able to say much of anything without choking on my words.

I listen to Janey read several pages. The only interruption to her flow of words is an occasional yawn. I’d love to sit here and listen to her all night but she’s obviously exhausted, fighting sleep so she can keep reading to me. I know she’s strong-willed – with parents like hers, how could she
not
be? – so there’s only one way for me to get her to sleep.

I yawn and stand from the edge of her bed.

“I’m super sleepy,” I tell her. “I’m about to fall asleep sitting up. I’m going to bed now. Don’t stay up much later.”

Janey nods but doesn’t look away from her book. She looks more and more mature every day but I can still see in her eyes that she’ll fall asleep soon. I don’t realize I’m staring until she finally looks up from the book and rolls her eyes at me.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“You, too,” she sighs before yawning and turning back to the book.

I turn off the main light in her room; the small lamp beside her bed is bright enough to let her read but dim enough so she’ll soon nod off. I close the door behind me and walk a few feet down the short hallway. The rest of the rooms are pitch black, no other lights on at all. The house is very small – only five tiny rooms – but it still feels hollow. Most sounds echo against the concrete walls but I’m still light on my feet as I move with the utmost silence. I stop suddenly when I hear a noise behind me. My heart skips a beat until I realize it’s only the sound of Janey turning the pages of her book.

I exhale deeply. I’m still jumpy after all these years. I’m tired but I know my mind won’t let me nod off if I climb into bed by myself. I cross our small living room and slowly open the front door, sneaking out onto the porch. I take a deep breath of fresh air and sit on one of the oversized porch chairs. Though it’s the middle of summer, the air is still chilly at this time of night, especially as the wind swirls.

Our house is located on the side of a mountain, though it’s not huge and rocky like the ones I once lived near in Colorado. These are more like oversized hills, though there are enough steep drops to make certain areas dangerous. We’re near the top and there’s an awesome view of thousands of stars above, all of them shining brightly. Very little artificial light invades this area of the world, not nearly enough to fade out the starlight. I look down at the valley below, which is dotted here and there by the dim lights of other small houses. With the exception of electricity powering these lights – as well as a single narrow, paved road winding its way around these mountains – I imagine this mountain looks like it did years earlier.              

I curl up in the chair and enjoy the silence. I’m tempted to walk to the side of the house and look up the mountain but I stop myself; I need to show some restraint. It’s not long before I hear another noise, one
not
from inside my house. This noise comes from somewhere out there, somewhere close by, a clatter near our steep driveway connected to the main road. Unlike the dirt driveways that many of our mountain neighbors have, ours is concrete, though it’s not exactly in great shape. As if climbing the steep incline isn’t tough enough, it’s even more difficult avoiding all the tiny pieces of crumbling concrete littering the driveway.