Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

 

For a while the only sound between them was the slap of Irin’s flip flops on the cement sidewalk.  Rhys walked with his hands in his pockets and his head down, seemingly lost in thought, so she took the opportunity to study him in the light of day.  She was surprised to note that this was the first time she had seen him wear what she would have classified as modern clothes.  The few times before, his outfit hadn’t pointed to any time period in specific, but today he had on jeans and a Welsh rugby warm-up jacket.  Hell, his jeans were even “strategically distressed”, and if that wasn’t modern wear, she didn’t know what was.  The only thing that made him stand out today was his hair, which was long enough to just brush his shoulders, but he had it pulled into a half up, half down style that kept it off his face.  She wasn’t sure why, but the outdated style seemed to work for him.

 

After a few moments of silence, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw her staring.  “Is something amiss?” 

 

Her eyes jerked forward in surprise.  Damn, she thought as blood rushed to her cheeks.  “No,” she cleared her throat, refusing to look at him again, “everything’s fine.”  Unfortunately, she could still feel the small smile that now graced his lips, and she blushed harder.  She lowered her head and shoved her hands into her hoodie pockets, mimicking his posture and hoping he couldn’t see the pink stain. 

 

They continued in silence for a few minutes until the sound of lazy waves met their ears.  Rhys looked up to see they were across the street from a long stretch of green grass, but it was only as wide as a football field because on the other side the ground rapidly dropped away into the bay.  Irin led the way across the street and the grass to the dirt path separating the field from the low stone wall bordering the water.  Right on the edge of the grass and the path there was a wooden bench situated in the sparse shade of a eucalyptus tree.  Without further ado, she lowered herself onto the seat with one foot tucked underneath her and waited for him to join her. 

 

“So what now?” she finally asked, turning to lean against the armrest so she could face him. 

 

He also angled himself to see her.  “I believe it is your turn to ask a question as you already answered one of mine.” 

 

“Hm, let’s see,” she tapped one finger to her chin, trying to keep things light.  She decided to go with an easy one.  “Where are you from?” 

 

She was surprised when his face clouded over.  “You have decided to ask as your first question that which is hardest to answer.  I would prefer to wait a bit longer before I tell you that story,” he confessed. 

 

She didn’t know what to say to that.  What could be so complicated about his home?  Finally she said, “Ok, I guess.  Can you at least tell me where your accent is from?”

 

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a sad imitation of his half-smile.  “Wales,” he admitted.

 

Well, that explained the jacket.  When he said nothing else, she decided to respect his right to wait.  “Do I get to ask another question?” she asked hopefully and smiled when his small grin was more natural this time.

 

“I think that is fair.”

 

She searched around for another question.  “Ok, I know.  How did you find me again �" at the Company building, I mean?”  This should be interesting, she thought.

 

“I sensed you,” he stated simply, as if that were enough information.  She raised an eyebrow to let him know she expected more.  “When you followed me from Saudi Arabia to France, you showed me you can attach yourself to my path and travel with me, correct?”  He waited for her nod.  “When I left France, I felt you with me once again, but you fell out of the path partway through.  I knew when and where you had fallen, so when I got to the other side, I came back to the spot you had exited.  I ended up right outside your building.”

 

“You were able to tell exactly when and where I’d landed?”

 

“Yes, but when I finally got there, your trail had faded and been masked by all of the others coming and going.  I was surprised to find so many like you and me, as well as nervous, so I did not enter at that time.  I decided to wait until I found you again…” he trailed off when he saw her mouth drop open in shock.

 

“Holy hell, you’re a Sensor!” she exclaimed, sitting straight up to stare at him. 

 

“I am?” he asked blankly.

 

“Yes!  You can pick up on the energy signature of Weavers.  You knew there were a lot of us in the building without coming in to check, and I bet you could tell whenever someone Wove in or out, right?” she asked excitedly. 

 

“Yes, I could,” he confirmed cautiously. 

 

Suddenly a thought struck her.  “That’s why you suddenly showed up after two weeks!  That was the first time I Wove after losing you in transit,” she concluded smugly, glad to finally have some of the pieces put together. 

 

He nodded slowly, unsure what all of this meant to her. 

 

“So, wait, you just hung around outside the Company building for two weeks so you could find me again?”

 

“Yes,” he replied, still watching her carefully to gauge her reactions.

 

She felt a strange wave of pleasure at that revelation.  He’d gone through all that effort just to see her again.  “Wow,” she replied lamely, unsure of what else to say.  They watched each other for a few moments longer before she remembered her original train of thought.  “How did you get into the building?” she asked, but she expected his simple answer before he could even utter it. 

 

“I Wove in,” he told her, letting the word Wove roll around on his tongue as if he were still unsure of its whole meaning. 

 

“Just like normal?”

 

“As I always have,” he verified, though confusion was taking root once more.  “Why?”

 

“Did you notice that everyone Weaving in and out of the building was doing so from two specific locations?”  She briefly wondered if he knew it was a loaded question; it would help her to determine just how good his Sensing abilities were.  

 

“I did.  Is that not simply per protocol?” he countered.

 

“No.  The building is protected so that we cannot get in or out except for those two locations.  That also means our enemies can’t get in,” she explained and watched his eyebrows draw together once more. 

 

“So I am unique?” he wondered.  “No one else can get in and out like I can?”

 

“No one,” she admitted, and briefly contemplated the wisdom of that confession.  He now knew he had an advantage, so she continued, “But that’s not necessarily a good thing.  If the Company found out you can break through their strongest barriers, they’d come after you with a vengeance.  They despise the thought they could be vulnerable, so you’d be considered threat.”

 

His eyes widened in shock, and his spine straightened.  “But I mean them no harm!”

 

She raised her open hands in front of her to show she meant no harm.  “I know,” she declared, and she waited for him to calm.  “I’m just saying that if they found out what you can do, they might lock you up before they gave you a chance to explain.  They’d think it’s better for them to be safe than sorry.” 

 

He thought on that for a few seconds.  “So you are telling me it is in my best interest to give them no reason to come for me, and that includes entering the building, correct?”  She nodded.  “I see.  What else will draw this Company’s attention?”

 

“Popping in on our activities, like you did in Ireland and Saudi.  It makes you look like a spy.  Other than that, I really don’t know.  I’ve never spent much time learning about what the Company does locally.”  That thought actually made her worry.  She hoped they wouldn’t be able to track her meeting with Rhys today.  She shook her head to clear the thought; she was just another agent on her day off.

 

“Who would want to spy on your trans-temporal dealings?”

 

“The Stealers,” she replied without thinking and then snapped her mouth shut, unsure if she should say more. 

 

He watched her reaction carefully and surmised, “This is a complicated answer, is it not?” 

 

“It’s pretty involved, yeah,” she stalled, trying to figure out what she should or should not say.  Finally an idea struck her.  “How about this?  I will explain to you about the Stealers when you tell me where you are from.” 

 

He thought that over for a moment.  “That is fair,” he finally replied, and she let out the breath she was unconsciously holding. 

 

“Ok, good,” she smiled, glad to have won some time to formulate an answer. 

 

“What should we do now?” he wondered, and she cast about for an answer.  She preferred to steer clear of the more complicated topics for now, so she tried to think of something simple to ask.  She was suddenly struck with the realization she knew very little about her companion other than his name and accent.  An idea bloomed. 

 

“If we’re going to be telling each other our deep, dark secrets, we should at least get to know one another, right?” she posited. 

 

He grinned, sensing her train of thought.  “I suppose so.”

 

“How about this: I’ll ask a question we both have to answer, and then you ask one, and so on and so on?  Sound good?” 

 

He nodded.  “What would you like to know first?”

 

“Well, how old are you?”  She hadn’t realized how much the question intrigued her until she thought of it. 

 

“Twenty-one.  You?

 

“I’ll be nineteen in two weeks.  Now, it’s your turn.”

 

He pondered for a few seconds.  “What languages do you speak?”

 

“English, Spanish and French.  You?”

 

“Ah, I did not think this one through,” he laughed, and she raised an eyebrow in question.  “I don’t really know how many languages I speak.  It is a sizeable amount, though.” 

 

“Well, is it more than five or ten?”  She saw him moving his fingers and knew he was tallying in his head.  He didn’t stop for several seconds.

 

“It is at least twenty-six,” he finally stated, and her jaw dropped.

 

“Twenty-six?!” 

 

“That I can speak well enough to get by.  I am truly fluent in ten or so,” he expanded, but her look of surprise didn’t change.

 

She stared at him for a few more seconds before she forced her jaw to return to its closed position.  “Well, that’s impressive,” she uttered lamely while her brain continued to whir.  She briefly considered how jealous Lance would be if he found out, but quickly pushed that thought aside. 

 

“I seem to have truly startled you.  Should we stop?” he asked as her silence stretched on. 

 

She blinked, attempting to clear her mind.  “No, sorry,” she replied, “I guess I just wasn’t ready for that.”  She gave a weak chuckle, which garnered a look of mild concern from him.  “No, no, I’m fine,” she tried again in a far more convincing tone.  “My turn now.”  She cast about for an appropriate question and decided on one she knew had to have a simple answer.  “What is your favorite color?”

 

He grinned at that.  “Blue,” he replied without hesitation.  “You?”

 

“Green.”

 

And so they continued for the next few hours, sometimes in a rapid fire back and forth, other times delving slightly more in depth.  However, they both obeyed the unspoken rule to keep the questions light and casual.  There would be other chances in the future to tackle the more serious questions. 

 

“Well, what if no one could Weave off the island?  Then what would you want?” she tried again when his response to the original question had been someone who could Weave him off the deserted island.

 

He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a chime and vibrate combo from Irin’s pocket. 

 

“Sorry about that.  Just a sec,” she said as she pulled her cell out to make sure the message wasn’t urgent.  She tapped out a quick reply and slipped the device back in her pocket.  He was quiet as he waited for her to say something.  “That was my friend back at the Company,” she explained.

 

“Must you return?” 

 

“No, but I probably should,” she replied.  “There’s some stuff I should do while it’s still my day off.” 

 

“I understand,” he nodded.  “Will I be able to see you again?” 

 

She felt her stomach give a funny little clench, and she wasn’t sure it was entirely due to nerves.  “Yeah, sure,”  she replied, looking at her hands in her lap and hoping he couldn’t see her confusing feelings written on her face. 

 

“My time is at your disposal.  There is nothing I must presently do that cannot be rearranged to accommodate your schedule,” he declared, and she raised her eyes to his to judge the sincerity of his statement.  She was unsurprised to see he was being honest �" as always. 

 

“I can meet you again in three days,” she admitted.  Her team would technically be on the call roster that day, but the last day of the rotation usually put them far enough at the bottom of the list that they were unlikely to be called in. 

 

“Shall we meet at the same time and location?”

 

“That sounds good,” she smiled, and she was glad to see it returned. 

 

“Then I shall see you Thursday morning,” he said as he fluidly rose from the bench and turned to face her. 

 

She hastily rose to face him as well.  “I’ll see you then,” she responded and then paused.  How exactly was she supposed to part ways with him?  Was this casual enough for just a wave and a “Bye,” or should she go with tradition and clasp his forearm since he was a fellow Weaver?  A handshake seemed way too formal, but she didn’t know. 

 

The seconds dragged on awkwardly as she struggled, and he finally took the initiative.  The corner of his lips drew up in a half grin she was quickly coming to recognize before he dipped his head in a nod of respect.  “Good day,” he parted. 

 

“Bye,” she breathed, and she did end up lifting her hand in a small wave.  As he turned to walk away, she breathed a sigh of relief that he was going in the opposite direction from her.  It would have been especially awkward to have to walk together for a few blocks after she’d bungled that closing.  Trying not to relive it in her head repeatedly, she turned and made her way back to the accounting building. 

 

Less than fifteen minutes after their parting, Irin entered her room at the Company and flopped down onto her bed, heart pounding.  She had passed a group of people near the elevator who were discussing the rogue Weaver, and she almost panicked.  What if they could tell by looking at her that she’d just been to meet with the much sought after fugitive?  She knew the idea was ridiculous, but that didn’t stop her heart from racing as she quickened her pace to seek refuge in her room. 

 

For about the thousandth time she wondered what the hell she was doing. Why was she even getting involved with this guy?  Pretty much everything she held dear could be forfeit if she was found out, and she wasn’t ready to live with those consequences.  There was only one thing she could blame for this predicament, and that was her insatiable curiosity.  Damn the man for being far too intriguing for her own good, and damn her for not being able to ignore him.  Unfortunately, there was a lot of damning going on when she’d already made her bed.  Besides, she knew that she could try to talk herself out of it six ways to Sunday, but she’d still be at that café Thursday morning.  At least she was reliable in her decision to blatantly ignore the Company rules in this situation.

 

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