"Because it all seems so ridiculous. Why am I the one that's been "blessed" with such extraordinary gifts when I'm only going to be here for a short while?" I asked, clearly fed up with all the hero worship.
"What do you mean 'short while?" Shawn asked, standing up to glare at me now.
Crap, I had let my emotions take over and wound up showing my cards before I was ready. "Come on guys, surely you know I can't carry on with any of this after we're done. If Mark can be saved then I'll spend the rest of my life thanking The Light, but if he has to be destroyed…" my voice broke and I had to swallow several big gulps of cool air before I could continue on. "If he has to be destroyed, there will be nothing left for me," I finally finished flatly. I turned away from their stares that had shifted from horrified to pity.
"How do you know?" Sam asked in a voice filled with thick tears.
"Because Sam, it's what we we're created for," I said, all fight gone from my voice. "I don't want to be special. I just want my Protector back and if I can't have him, I have no purpose," I said, turning from my group and striding purposefully for the tent. The fact that I now possessed extra abilities and could stand up to Victor's dark powers didn't bring me joy, instead it only seemed to widen the gap between what Mark and I had once shared.
I pulled the downy-filled sleeping bag up over my ears, but I could still here the mumbled voices of my friends outside. Craving peace, I pulled my iPod out of the pocket of my hoodie. I scrolled through my playlist and picked a song that was sure to drown out all background noise. After placing the earbuds in my ears and closing my eyes, my friends' voices were gone and I was alone to ponder my own solitary thoughts. My last coherent thought before I let sleep lure me in was how desperately alone I truly was.
Chapter 7
I woke several hours later feeling slightly disoriented. The sunlight streamed through the nylon of the tent, so it was obviously morning. It had been a while since I was able to sleep that soundly. Oddly, the nightmares that had plagued my dreams for so long were absent. I sat up, slowly pushing the heavy sleeping bag off of me. The sun beating down on the tent made the interior of the tent toasty warm making the sleeping bag unnecessary. My friends were still dead to the world, so I quietly crawled out the narrow flap trying to avoid their legs on my way out.
The campsite was surprisingly quite as I looked toward the fire pit. Jaime, Kieran, Kim and Jenna were sitting around the blazing fire drinking what smelt like coffee. A breeze blew through the campsite chilling me through the material of my hoodie. I rubbed my arms vigorously, instantly missing the heat of the tent. The fire looked inviting and I yearned for its heat, but embarrassment over my outburst last night had me looking back at the tent.
"Krista, come on, pull up a log," Kim said, clearly sensing my dilemma.
"Yeah, come join us," Kieran said, warmly patting the spot beside her. "What's your poison, coffee or hot cocoa?" She asked, indicating the two different kettles on the metal grill that perched on the rocks over the fire.
"Um, coffee would be sublime," I said, grateful that they were trying to act normal.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, cradling my steaming cup of "liquid gold" between my hands.
"The Pauls are gathering firewood over there," Jaime said, laughing at the duo of their names.
"It's a good thing you're from different Bands or that would get very confusing," I said, trying to keep the mood light.
"I know right," Jenna said laughing. "The rest of the guys went out to scout the mountain and Haniel will be back by dusk."
"Did he say when you guys are going to go find Victor's lair?" I asked, casually studying the rich coffee in my mug.
"In a couple days. He wants the guys to map out escape routes down the mountain in case things go wrong. He has instructed each Protector to grab their Guide and separate from the group if it looks like Victor is defeating him," Kieran said in a scared voice.
I couldn't blame her. It seemed insane to even be contemplating a contingency plan. Was it even possible for Victor to defeat Haniel? A brief mental picture of Haniel's lifeless body thrown to the side of the mountain flashed through my head and my heart pinched just thinking about it. Haniel was my beacon of light, thinking of him being snuffed out was enough to make the hot coffee in my stomach swirl around uncomfortably.
"I guess that makes sense," Jenna piped in, seeing the delicate shade of green my face had taken on.
I nodded my consent. It was important that the Links use whatever means necessary to continue on.
"So, how are all the kids?" I asked, steering the conversation away from the painful path it had taken.
"They're growing quickly," Jaime said enthusiastically. "Here, I will show you some pictures on my phone before it officially dies."
I oohed and aahed over the pictures of the kids at different stages of play. Without knowing any of them personally, I could clearly pick out who was linked to whom. My heart ached at one picture that showed a darling brown haired, brown eyed boy perched on a swing. He was gazing toward the sky as if he was trying to understand the mystery it held.
"That's my Logan," Jaime said, quietly peering over my shoulder.
"What a cutie," I said in a choked voice. I felt a keen connection with him. We had both lost a very precious gift.
Not wanting to upset Jaime, I flipped to the next picture and smiled when I saw Timmy standing next to the most precious little girl I had ever seen. She looked about two and yet, her hair hung halfway down her back in great big ringlets. She and Timmy were holding hands and whoever took the picture caught them in mid-giggle so both their faces were lit up and their eyes shined with mirth. The picture reminded me of the cute black-and-white style that had been popular with greeting cards for a while.
Jaime laughed when she spied the picture too. "That's Reagan. As you can tell, they're two peas in a pod. They're never far from each other's side if they can help it and boy are they both mischievous," she said fondly.
"They're so cute," I said, still studying the picture.
"They are, and both are so good-natured except for their mischievous streaks of course. Like I said last night, Timmy still misses his parents, but it's almost like their bond is stronger. I've been exposed to this life and our connections my whole life and yet, their bond even surprises me. Even at only two years old, it seems to me and the others that Reagan already knows how to dissipate Timmy's pain. It's truly amazing," she said, swiping away a stray tear.