Becoming Calder (A Sign of Love Novel)(70)

Eden,
I think you'll agree, that after what happened today, we need to leave here as soon as possible. Two months from today at the very latest. When you hear the call of a nighthawk, three times in a row, pause, and then twice, you'll know it's time to meet Calder and me at the spring. Make sure no one follows you.
In the meantime, if you see any money lying around, and if it's not too risky to take it, do it. We'll need all we can get, every cent.
Xander


Two months? I took in a deep, shaky breath. Two months seemed like an unbearable time to wait; I had no other choice but to try to be patient. I would try my best not to look at Calder with the love I felt in my heart. And I'd pray the next two months went by without incident.
I didn't put this letter with the ones Calder had given me, the ones I couldn't seem to part with. Instead, I lit a candle on my dresser and held the paper by the edge as it burned. When it was just a small burning corner, I let it fall into the large glass container the candle was in. I blew it out, went back to the window, and stood there simply staring out, thinking of Calder, and trying to picture us far, far away.




CHAPTER SIXTEEN


Calder



I sat inside the jail room at the far end of the cellar area. I'd never been in here before, but I'd heard it was a cold, miserable little space that made repenting quickly an easy choice. What I'd heard had been true. It was small and cold, a rusty drain in the corner to piss in, a musty, rotten stench in the air. The only thing to sit on was a narrow concrete bench where I now sat with my throbbing legs stretched out straight. I grimaced as I adjusted them, thankful I didn't have the added element of holding the pain inside now. Someone had shaved or altered the bumps off that piece of metal and my bet was on Clive Richter. But if he thought I was going to give him the pleasure of seeing my pain, he was wrong. Holes in my legs would heal, no matter how bloody they looked now.
I heard the key in the lock of the thick metal door and looked up as a small, old woman with frizzy white hair was let in and then the door was closed and locked again.
"Mother Willa," I said, starting to stand.
She made a sound of impatience, waving her hand to indicate I should stay seated. I sunk back down.
She opened a large, crochet bag she had slung over her shoulder and started taking out small fabric pouches, and a little bowl that looked like it had once been a rock of some sort. As she mixed various items together with a small amount of water in her bowl, a strong herbal smell rose around me. She began smashing it and mixing it together until it was a dark green paste. She came closer to me and set it down as she examined my legs, making tsk-tsking sounds as she used her hands gently to turn them this way and that.
"The gods had nothing to do with this," she said, almost as if to herself. "Here, take this. It will help with the pain." She handed me a small packet of powder and a wooden jug she had uncorked. "Drink it all."
I tipped the packet of powder into my mouth and drank from the jug, emptying it. My body immediately felt warm and the throbbing in my legs began to abate. I sighed and leaned my head back on the wall. I felt something cool being applied to my legs, but didn't look down.
After a minute, Mother Willa asked, "What in this world did you do to displease Hector?"
"I . . . think I threatened him, challenged him," I said, my eyes still closed. My head was starting to swim, but in a good way.
She was quiet for a good long while. "You must leave then. Things will only get worse for you."
I opened my heavy eyes and looked down at her. Crystal clear blue eyes met mine and I just stared into them for a few seconds. Her skin was leathery and wrinkled, her hair was brittle and pure white, and she only had a few teeth, but I swore in her eyes, she was as young as a girl.
"I'm going to make things better," I said.
She shook her head, applying more cool paste to my wounds.
"You've permanently upset the balance. Things can't be made better. No. You should leave now."
I shook my head. "There are people I love here."
She nodded, taking out a pile of white linen strips. "Even more reason for you to leave. As soon as you are released from here, start walking, and don't stop until you're far away."
I shook my head back and forth again, the air around me seeming to shimmer. "I can't do that. There are people here I have to take care of."
Mother Willa sighed loudly. "You have made your sacrifice in this life, Calder Raynes," she applied a fabric strip to my knee and tied it around the back, "whether you know it or not."