The Crest Of Fire
1276 Words
Chapter 2:
The sound of the subway was not very deep to Elira. She could not get the picture on the phone screen out of her mind.
The Vallis ridge.
Silver. Put in jet-black cardstock. The same mark which Caelum put on his bow cufflinks the night she left his world and barely survived it.
Holding her phone more tightly, she fought the shudder that was going up her spine.
And how should he know? How could he even distrust?
And Zayden was not only a secret. He was the only bit of peace. The only victory following a war of which she never sought.
Here again, Caelum Vallis had discovered the battleground.
The smell of bleach and despair was in the hospital waiting room. Old, soaked by rain, Elira was dashing through the automatic doors. She tapped against the white tiles with her heels.
“Mrs. Harlow?” she said, sweeping the audience of relatively few people.
And up stared the old woman, with Zayden in her arms, crying out, “Elira!”
He lay covered with a small blue hoodie, the eyes blinking and the cheeks burning with fever.
She hurried towards them. “Is he all right?”
“So they say. It is only a viral high fever. However, I did not want to take chances.”
Harlow said, but Elira picked up her son in her arms. He whined and hung on her shoulder, holding her necklace with his little fingers.
“So sorry, so sorry, I am so sorry.” She craved his wet forehead with her lips.
Mrs. Harlow said softly, “You were wise to go. There was a man, but…”
Elira stiffened.
“He said no name. That he was simply, as it were, an old friend of the father of Zayden. I never said anything to him.”
She spoke with a lower tone. “He had left this.”
The business card yet again.
Elira looked at it.
“I must be off,” Mrs. Harlow said. “You remain with him. I will call by tomorrow.”
Elira was nodding mechanically.
Caelum was never idle in hunting. He simply waited — until the right bait.
Hours later, as Zayden lay deeply asleep on the sofa and the fever had faded long ago, Elira stood at the window in her small apartment and stared at the storm tearing across the city skyline.
She carried the business card in her fingers, and it was slowly twisting in the moonlight.
“What wilt thou, Caelum?” she whispered.
She was aware that he did not leave it to Zayden. That was an indication to her.
I know. I found you.
She did not change her name to escape the world. She altered it to save her life. People in Caelum’s circle would have buried her had they known what she took away behind her six years back.
An illegitimate child. Stolen legacy. The revenge, which, nevertheless, might destroy everything.
She was not that girl anymore.
No more innocent. Not any more soft.
Give Caelum a war, then, if he desired one.
The next morning she found herself standing again outside the Iron Spire.
This time, she was not trembling.
She gave her name to the receptionist. “Elena Vale. I am supposed to be there.”
“Of course. Floor twenty-two. Department orientation.”
She got through the security with not so much as a nod. No guards with guns. No scouting eyes. But Elira was aware Caelum watched.
He never failed to observe. Just as a hawk when scouting his game.
When she entered the orientation room, she was greeted by the soulless purr of corporate ice sterile walls, efficient chairs, acres of interns with beaming eyes and overdressed egos. The vast majority of them were younger, excited, discussing technology shares and innovation reports.
She sat down on the back seat.
One more face.
It is just another game.
Time went by in a fuzz of presentations and protocols. Nothing concrete. Just noise. Until there was a call of her name.
“Elena Vale, kindly go to the executive floor. Mr. Vallis is asking an off-consult.”
The room bogged down.
Eyes turned around.
Slowly she rose, belying panic.
He desires to have control. Do not give it to him.
This time, she took the elevator by herself.
The higher she went up, the more she was caught in the trap.
As the doors opened, he was present. At the window, his back towards her, his outline against the skyline of Manhattan.
Caelum said, “Close the door.”
She did.
“Is this a trap?” she asked calmly.
He turned. “No.”
“Then what is it?”
He walked up to her at a slow pace. “It is a challenge.”
“I had a miracle pass yesterday.”
“You did not.”
“Then why am I here?”
He looked at her.
“What was wrong with Elira?…”
Under her breath, she laughed. “You do not really know?”
“I am aware of what I did. I would like to be informed of what you did.”
“Survived.”
“And kept a child away.”
There was a crack in the silence.
“I did not say”
“You did not have to.”
He dug out his jacket pocket for a photograph of Zayden. Taking the boy out to play in the park. Eyes the same shape. Same obdurate chin.
It had stopped her heart.
“I followed him. I had you trailed. After yesterday... I was aware of it.”
She swallowed. “You cannot do that.”
“It is my right.”
“No,” she whispered. “You lost that when you undesirably told me to go.”
“That was wrong.”
“It has actually saved my life.”
Caelum moved nearer and spoke still lower. “Why did you not tell me?”
“Would it have been any different?”
Fierce, he answered, “Yes. The difference would have made everything.”
“You were just like a hurricane. I wanted to be quiet. In his case.”
“You cannot decide on your own.”
“I had already.”
“And blot out?”
Her eyes became narrow. “What is it that you want?”
“I desire my son.”
She drew a breath. “No, you cannot have him.”
His brows grew black. “You are not the only parent.”
“You are not any sort of a parent,” she hissed. “A title you are. A crest. An industrialist played a God-like billionaire.”
“I am his dad.”
“You are dangerous.”
His voice fell into ice. “You are going to regret that you have said so.”
“No. You may, however.”
She pulled back to turn away.
“Elira”
“Tomorrow,” she said, without turning round. “Make the attempt to check me.”
Zayden was sleeping soundly in the apartment, when Elira came in and stood at the door, watching him breathe.
Caelum Vallis never bluffed. The lawyers would have made him have custody, in case that was something he desired. The money. The power.
There was something besides her, however. The truth. Now would she hesitate to burn over every bridge in order to save it?
Her cell phone trembled.
Blocked Number: "You have 48 hours to tell him. Or I shall."
She looked at the screen again. Then at her son.
- Writer
