Redeeming Vows
Page 3

Already his height threatened Liz’s.
She couldn’t help the proud feeling every time she saw him. He was her life.
He plopped down beside her and nodded to the book. “Still at it?”
“We’re not home yet, are we?” She repeated the words daily. Liz wouldn’t stop reading and trying new things to rid the MacCoinnichs of Grainna and find the stones that would take them home.
Simon looked around the room built of stone.
“No, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Rolling her eyes, Liz laughed. “We never lived in Kansas.”
“Yeah well, we’re not in California anymore doesn’t have the same ring.”
Liz reached out and ruffled his long hair. “No, it doesn’t.”
Simon cast his eyes to his hands that plucked at the wool fiber of the bedding.
“What’s on your mind?” Liz set the book aside.
“I ah, I need to tell you something.”
Oh, geeze. Nothing good ever came of that statement. “You can talk to me about anything.” And Liz hoped he always would. Realistically, she knew he would hold some secrets.
“I don’t want you to freak out.”
She swallowed. Hard. “I won’t freak out.” Oh please don’t let me freak out.
“I’ve noticed my powers increasing.”
“Okay.”
“I mean really increasing.” Simon bit his bottom lip, but didn’t meet her eyes.
“How, Simon? I know you talk to animals, can feel their desires and needs. What’s changing?” Her and Simon’s powers changing, morphing as they became aware of them was apparently normal.
When she’d first lit a candle without a match, it took tremendous effort. The ease of it now was laughable.
Simon scrambled off the bed. His posture slightly hunched. He stopped in front of the mirror on her vanity table. There he stood taller and met her gaze through the reflective glass. “I think my ability to talk to animals, and make them move the way I want them to, is the beginning of something big. Real big.”
I’m not freaking out. But her heart started to speed up, despite her internal chant. “How big, Simon. What’s happened?”
Simon’s eyes drifted shut, his hands clenched at his sides. “I think of the animal I want to talk to.
Think of the way their body moves, the way they breathe.” Simon stretched his neck. “I feel their hearts beat. Birds have this—fluttering rate that moves so fast I feel like I need to run to keep up with it. When they take flight, I look down and see the world as they do. The freedom of flight.” He sighed.
“There’s nothing like it. If I try hard enough, and stretch my arms…” Simon lifted his limbs wide, a smile expanded over his face. “I feel myself start to change. If I can focus just a little more, I’ll be able to taste it. Be it.”
Liz held her breath and stared. The back of Simon’s neck moved in a way that wasn’t normal.
Wasn’t human.
I’m not freaking out, I’m not freaking out.
Simon sighed, dropped his arms in frustration, and opened his eyes. The narrow iris of his beautiful eyes stretched vertically and blinked. They opened again and his eyes remained, elongated. Not the eyes of her son, but the eyes of the bird he imagined himself to be.
Liz’s lip trembled.
Simon watched her reaction. When he turned to face her, he blinked again. His eyes rolled back and finally returned to normal.
The only thing keeping her on her feet was the uncertainty on Simon’s face. He wanted her approval.
“Wow,” she said while dragging in one long and deep breath.
“Yeah, wow.”
“We knew your powers were going to get stronger.” She didn’t think they would actually change his physical appearance.
“I know. I’ve been working on them.” He let a smile creep higher. He was proud. Excited. But they weren’t talking about an A on his report card. They were talking about her son changing form, species.
Liz turned away, hiding the fear deep in her heart and her mind. His ability to read her thoughts would tell him just how much she was freaking out.
“Do you feel like you’re in control?”
“Yes…and no. I mean, I know I’m making myself, change. But I can’t make it happen. Not completely anyway.”
“When you stop trying, you feel normal again?”
“Kind of. Sometimes it takes a little time to feel completely normal.”
Liz forced her lips up. “Okay. Well then, is that it? Nothing else going on?”
Simon’s brows came together. “What?”
“You don’t have a girlfriend you’ve met in the village? No siege from Ireland pending?” If she didn’t laugh, she was going to break down.
“No, Mom.” He rolled his eyes.
Hiding the shake in her hand, she picked up Seventh Sense and opened it.
Simon headed for the door.
“Simon?”
He turned.
“When you practice, make sure someone is with you. We wouldn’t want you changing into…
something, and none of us knowing it’s you.”
He nodded, smiled, and left the room.
Liz let her eyes fill with tears as soon as she was alone.
****
After drawing energy to the tips of her fingers and using it to charge the iPod, Liz wiggled the earplugs snug in her ears. She turned the volume as high as she could stand it and went through her workout routine in the far tower of the keep, the one she’d been reduced to using for privacy. The snug T-shirt clung to her frame. Sweat formed on her brow from the physical workout. She’d enjoyed kickboxing classes in LA, the one she forced herself to go to after Simon was born. The one she’d do anything to be in right now. She closed her eyes and pictured a long length of mirror in front of her, other scantily clad women wearing tight leggings and sports bras at her side.
Thank God she’d had the sense to bring extra modern clothes for Tara when she’d come here to visit. Otherwise, she’d have to wear some poor excuse for workout clothes instead of the cool cotton she had on now.
Listening to the electric guitar of Nickelback, Liz bobbed back and forth on her feet before lifting her leg in a vertical kick, shoulder height. Her muscles grew warm, free. Her breath came quickly without the tight binding dresses she was forced to wear in this time. God, it felt good.
She pivoted, bobbed, and punched at her invisible enemy.
****
Fin ascended the stairs, expecting to find Elizabeth sitting in front of an open window with one of her famous books in her hand. When he approached the door, he heard a scuffling of feet and a small grunt. He went on alert and placed a hand to his sword at his side.