Mrs. Carnell

I look back at Owen, and he looks up to meet my gaze. “I’m not sure, but from what I heard,” I lower my eyes and fiddle with my fingers, picking at my nails. “I think it is safe to say that they were. My family is the only Velde’s in the city. All my dad’s siblings still either live in New City or have moved out East. But what I don’t understand is why it sounded like…” I can’t say it, the phrase that hangs heavy in the air, like his death was intentional.  

Owen just nods his head, his face grim. He understands me so well. I have never longed for a sibling because Owen is like a brother to me. He’s someone I can confide in, fight with, and love, all at once. 

“We should go check on your mom in the morning.” Owen says as he gets up off the couch, taking our now empty mugs of hot chocolate and placing them in the sink. “I’m sure she’s fine, it didn’t look like those men knew who either of us were.” He stretches his arms over his head, and lets out a large yawn. “Man, am I tired. When the adrenaline dies down you really feel it after.” He laughs, a big grin on his face. I give him a small smile in response.

Just then the front door slams open, and I jump so high I nearly fall off the couch. I hear a raspy voice, and immediately relax again, knowing exactly who it is. “SON OF A BITCH!” Mrs. Carnell curses from the front entrance. Owen lets out a large groan in response.

“Mom, seriously?! Sia is over! Can’t you be slightly normal when you walk in the door?” He lets out an exasperated sigh and then heads over to where she is to help. Shortly after they both walk into the house, carrying a handful of groceries each, with Mrs. Carnell’s worn leather purse hanging from Owen’s pinky. I get up off the couch and stride over to the kitchen to help put the groceries away.

“Owen don’t be such a bore.” Mrs. Carnell says. “Entering the house with a curse is exciting! You are too much like your father. Lighten up.” She waves a hand at him, dismissing his appalled face. “Besides, Iryssia practically lives here. She has heard worse from me.” She looks over at me and gives me a wink. I smile back in return, sending a wide grin to Owen as well, feeling his glare on me. I wouldn’t necessarily call Owen anything like his father, though. His father is a stone cold man. I have never seen him smile once, and I suspect, although Owen has never outright told me, that he can be aggressive and even abusive. How his parents met is a mystery to me.

“Iryssia, darling, are you staying for dinner tonight?” Mrs. Carnell rummages around in the grocery bags before finding what she is looking for, and placing it in a shelf above her.

“If you don’t mind, I would love to.” I answer, helping put away some more of the groceries, maneuvering around the kitchen it’s my own.

“Of course I don’t mind!” Mrs. Carnell gives me a smile that reaches her pale blue eyes, deepening the laugh lines around them. Mrs. Carnell is surprisingly short considering how tall her son is. The top of her head reaches just past my shoulders. Her hair is piled on top of her head, with a few dark brown pieces having escaped from the mess hanging limply on her shoulders. Strands of grey streak her hair, showing her age in a way her personality does not. 

Hmm Hot Chocolate

Owen hands a mug of hot chocolate to me, and sits down next to me. I face him, curled up on the couch, my knees tucked underneath my chin.

“Thank-you.” Owen nods at me and searches my face, an unasked question upon his lips. I hug my mug and look down at the creamy drink. Hot chocolate is a delicacy. I’m surprised Owen even has any.

“Iryssia.” The use of my full name forces me to look Owen in the eyes. “We need to discuss what happened back there.”

“I have no idea what happened back there.” I mumble, and look back down.

“Were they–” Owen stops, unsure how to continue. After a moment of silence, “Were they talking about your dad?” He asks cautiously.

I have never seen Owen so unsure of himself before. I can feel his worried eyes on me. It has been ten years since my dad passed away. I don’t know exactly what he did for a living, some sort of businessman. He did a lot of travelling and I didn’t see him much. When he came home, though, he spent nearly every moment with me. I was his world, and he was practically a celebrity in my eyes. I would count down the days until he came home again. He showed me everything I know about the city. Every morning he would take me out of the city, which was the only time I ever left the city walls, to see the sun rising. I would laugh as he spun me around and around, the sun coming from behind the city wall and glowing orange in the distance, spreading out beyond the horizon from every direction. I remember his face so clearly in those moments. His booming laugh, his deep laugh lines, and his bright grey eyes. His smile spread across his entire face, framed by his brown beard with specks of grey. I remember the light of the rising sun behind his face, making each of my favourite features of his stand out. I felt so safe in his arms. It was us against the dangerous world that lay beyond the wall.

Quite the Fall

Owen’s strong arms come around my waist, and he presses me against him. I hiccup and turn my face to the side, glancing up at Owen, whilst pulling myself together.

“Ready?” His voice is calm, but his whole body is tense. We need to move, whether I’m ready or not. I nod my head, feeling my legs quivering underneath me. I push myself out of his arms, and take a shaky breath.

“Let’s go.” I grab Owen’s hand tightly in my own, and we race down the alleyway. At each intersection, we turn. The more we zigzag, the more likely we can escape. I haven’t heard footsteps behind us for a while now, but we keep on running.

I can barely feel my legs as we run. I feel like we have been running forever. I hardly remember why we are running in the first place. Why did we run? What did we witness? With my mind focused elsewhere, I became my clumsy self again. My feet hit the ground, one after the other. Until one doesn’t. Instead, my left foot hits my right heel, full force. I swing my arms to try to balance myself out, but my right foot is kicked forward, and my legs become tangled. I slam into the ground, hard. I managed to get my arms up to protect my face, but I wasn’t able to catch myself. I roll twice over, before I settle in a pile of dust and blood. Owen screeches to a stop ahead of me, and runs over to the tangle of limbs I have become. He picks me up, and dusts me off, examining the raw skin on my arms and hands.

“I think we have run far enough.” He says, and puts my arms down. I examine the damage myself, and see the nasty road burns, but for the most part, I am still in one piece. The sting begins to settle in, as the adrenaline from the fall wears off.

“Agreed.” I reply. I limp ahead, Owen trailing behind me. “Can I crash at your place for a while? I don’t think it is wise to go home yet.” I say to Owen. My mind travels to my mother. I hope she will be okay without me. I’m not even sure if those men will go to my house. If they really were talking about my dad, then chances are they know where I live.  

“Yeah, of course you can. Your mom…” Owen trails off. He drags his hands through his hair, his face distressed.

“She’ll be fine. She knows how to take care of herself.” I reassure Owen, and myself.

RUN!

I glance over at the other man, but his face is hidden behind the bodies of those beside him. A few broken phrases reach my ears.

“I gave you time . . . the city is . . . Mr. Velde can’t save you now . . .”

My eyes widen at the sound of the name and I gasp out loud. Could he mean my father? I sense Owen glancing at me and then squinting back at the man, trying to decipher who the man is. Unfortunately my gasp echoed off the walls of the alley and right to one of the man’s ears. He glances over at Owen and I. I try to duck my head back behind the doorway in time, but he definitely sees me. He is shouting at us, telling us we shouldn’t be here. I feel distant. It is too surreal, I can’t grasp what is happening. Owen grabs my arm and yanks me out of the doorway. I see my feet running beside his, but I don’t hear our footsteps. The man is still shouting at us, shouting to stop, but we keep going. As we round the bend and run down another alley, all my senses come back to me like the force of a thousand bricks falling on top of me.

“STOP! CITY POLICE!” I glance back, my heart now in my throat. That man is not a cop. Cops don’t dress in suits.

“MY ASS YOU’RE A COP!” Owen shouts back and picks up the speed, practically carrying me as he surpasses my maximum speed. My feet are clumsy beneath me, and my breath is coming out ragged, each breath more difficult than the last.

“Owen!” I croak. My throat is too tight.

Owen glances down at me seeing my wide eyes, tears streaming across my ghostly face. He says something under his breath and whips me around a corner. We crash into the wall, his body pressed tightly up against my own. I grab his jacket with tight fists, and shove my face into his shoulder. I cough and sputter in breaths, trying to muffle the sound. I know the men will catch up soon. We need to run again. 

Lost and Found

After winding through the streets from the City Centre, I finally speak up. “Owen, do you even know where we are?” He pauses before answering me.

“Yes. Sort of?” Another pause. He sighs. “No, okay? I lied. I got distracted and this city is built like a maze! Who designed this place?!” He raises his hands up in the air, gesturing at the city walls. He lets them fall back down to his sides.

We keep on walking and he glances down alleyways as we pass them. Owen glances down another, passes it, changes his mind at the last second and grabs my arm as he swings me around toward the alley.

“Ah! Owen!” I giggle and steady myself as I skid to a stop beside him.

“Sorry! It’s this way, I swear.” I give him a look and he squirms underneath my glare. “I’m sure this time!” he says and grabs my arm. I groan as he drags me along.

The snow has mostly melted already with the afternoon sun, and Owen and I have peeled off our winter jackets, stuffing hats and mitts into the sleeves so they don’t get lost.

We walk for a while longer and just before I’m about to blame Owen again for getting us lost, he smacks a hand over my mouth. “Shhh.” He whispers and shoves me into a small doorway, hiding us from whatever is up ahead.

I peek out from behind Owen’s large frame and the doorway, trying to get a look at what he saw. A little way s ahead of us is a group of men that are surrounding another man. The man is backed p against the wall, his posture emanating anger, and he points an accusing finger at one of the other men.

I glance over at the other man, but his face is hidden behind the bodies of those beside him. A few broken phrases reach my ears.

Drama Queen

Owen shoves his face in front of the chain, blocking my view. “Whoa.” With a frustrated sigh, I push Owen with as much force as I can muster and manage to make him take a step to the side so I can see again. “Where did you find something like this, Isabella?” Owen asks, talking to her as if they were old friends.

“All my rarest pieces are from a good friend of mine who travels the world looking for trinkets like this. This specific item is from a small village south of New City located in one of the hottest deserts this world has to offer.” She smiles up at Owen, moving her smile to me when she notices that I am the possible buyer.  

“My father was from New City.” I say, my eyes still on the necklace. “How much?” I glance up and meet her eyes. I am uncharacteristically eager to buy this necklace. I don’t usually wear jewelry, but there is something special about this piece that I have to have it.

After a bit of haggling, and a significantly lighter coin purse, Owen and I walk away from the stall. I touch the necklace that is now around my neck, resting lightly on my collar bone. Owen is pouting beside me as we browse the rest of the stalls. I glance over at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I didn’t find out where she is staying while she’s in town.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and kicks the dirty snow. My face scrunches up as I try to hide a smile and a snicker of laughter.

“You poor thing. Whatever are you to do? And you were going to confess your love and everything! Such a shame. I guess you’ll just have to wait until next month when the next sellers come and hope that she’ll be there again!” I sigh dramatically and place my hands over my heart. “Owen, you must go back! Confess your undying love before it’s too late!” I smirk as he rolls his eyes at me.

“You’re a drama queen, Sia.” My eyes widen as he attempts to hide a smile.

“I’m the drama queen?! Owen! Seriously? You just met the girl, and she was using you to make a sale!”

“Yeah, well it didn’t work. I didn’t buy anything, did I?”  He gives me a look of victory, which makes me laugh out loud, startling a nearby man at a stall. Owen slaps a hand over my mouth and gives the man an apologetic look. I snicker behind his hand. “Come on; let’s get out of here before you cause a scene.” He cautiously removes his hand from my mouth, and then grabs my hand, leading me down the nearest alleyway which heads out of the City Centre. 

Owen Is Always In the Way

“Why, hello there, beautiful.” I look up to see Owen leaning on the table, his eyes locked on to the lady behind the stall. I roll my eyes at him, but then continue to gaze at the shiny objects on the table. “The name’s Owen, Owen Grey. I’m sure with looks like that you have a name to match.” He gives her a goofy grin and winks at her. I pretend to gag.

She glances at me with a smirk, then smiles back at Owen, flicking a piece of loose hair off her shoulder. “Isabella.” She says. She stretches out her hand towards Owen, and he takes it in his own hands and places a kiss on it. I try to hide my grin from Owen. She is playing him like a fiddle.

I clear my throat and say, “These are so lovely Isabella, but do you have something more… unique?” she looks over, studying me. I suddenly feel very self-conscious, and realize that I’m properly dressed for the weather, but she is hardly dressed to be out in public. A shiver runs down my back as I immediately get a feeling of distrust.

“Ah, a treasure seeker I see. I may have something you are looking for.” Her eyes glitter in the morning sunlight as she bends down to reach for something behind the stall. She pulls out a small black box. Isabella opens the box slowly, revealing what appears to be a plain silver chain at first. At second glance, I see more detail. Each link in the chain has been carefully formed into a small snake biting its own tail, and then linked into the next. The eyes of the snakes are small red jewels.

Owen shoves his face in front of the chain, blocking my view. “Whoa.”