As soon as Gareth sorted out some of the information and developed a plan of action, he’d contact Blackie again and repeat each part of his instructions one step at a time. Moving Blackie from one mountain peak to another every day or two was a good idea. He had to keep him safe and at a distance from his father’s valley.
“What is wrong?” Sara had called before her running feet touched the porch.
“Something killed Cinder.”
She came to his side and knelt. “Cinder was over three hundred years old. Maybe it was his time to die of old age.”
“There are strange men in the valley, all dead. Three from dragon spit, another with a knife in his chest and one from an arrow. It looks like the valley was attacked by force. There must have been others.”
“But your father is dead?”
“I haven’t found him or touched minds with him. I assume so.”
“Is Blackie looking?”
“No. I sent him away to a mountain north of there.”
“Why? I thought you intended to have him find out what’s happening.”
Gareth drew a deep breath and reached for Sara’s hand. “If they can kill Cinder they can kill Blackie. I sent him away to protect him.”
“You have to go to him and to that valley. But you have another problem to settle before leaving,” her eyes lowered, and her lip trembled.
“What is that?”
“I’ve been thinking, Gareth. If you’re injured and lay unconscious for two days, who would ‘hear’ Tad, and what would they hear? And worse, what would they do about it?”
Gareth paused before speaking, trying to find the right words to fit the circumstances. “They will understand his thoughts, and some would have the ability to see through his eyes. Others might put thoughts or ideas into his head.”
“If they said to use a knife and stab Amy in the middle of the night, would he?”
“That’s a question that has no yes or no answer. They cannot make him do something he does not want to do. But they can influence him in other ways.”
“Tell me.”
“Remember I explained how the Sisterhood keeps the vermin from their homes? They project the thoughts that a cat is inside their house, and it’s hungry. The mice escape the open door. The sisterhood didn’t make the mice leave, they make the circumstances correct for the mice to flee.”
“Tell me they cannot do something similar with Tad.”
“I wish I could. A clever manipulator could probably devise circumstances with a young mind that would make him do things he wouldn’t otherwise do.”
“I’m not trying to be fearful, but if I understand correctly, without you, Tad would reveal himself to the world and lead them to wherever he is. There would be a race to capture him for his powers. Each power group would want him on their side, or kill him to prevent him from joining the other. If they came here, the rest of our family would probably die as if we never were. I’m not scared for myself, but for the others.”
Gareth hung his head. “Don’t be. I should have already thought about it, but Tad has only recently started to use his mind, and I’ve been so busy thinking about my father. It’s hard to think of that such a beautiful little boy may be a threat to everyone. But yes, others can follow his mental broadcasts and come directly to this island, or to Vespa. Or anywhere else he is.”
Sara stiffened. “He is not a threat. Those people who want to use him for their own desires are the threats.”
“Hey, I understand, and you’re right, of course. He’s my grandson, too. But to protect everyone in the family, I have to take him with me when I leave.”
“What will we tell Paul and Amy?”
“As parents, I’m sure they’ll have plenty to say about it. No matter what we tell them,” Gareth said. “You seem more worried about their reaction than leaving here.”
Sara shook her head and stood and spun to turn away as her face flushed with anger. “I have to start dinner.”
“When’s the next ship scheduled to arrive?”
Sara turned back long enough to count on her fingers, an old habit she never tried to break. “Six days is the schedule, but maybe sooner or later, as always.”
“I need to go talk to Paul and Amy and get this over with. Hold dinner for me.”
“Tad is only six. Be gentle.”
“Closer to seven, and he’ll be safer with me than here. The family will be safer if he’s with me, too.”
She snorted, still angry. “Tell that to his mother and father and see how well it goes. I’ll hold dinner on the table. It’ll be sitting right beside the medical kit.”
Laughing, Gareth pecked her cheek as he passed by her, but his mind was already on the impending confrontation. On the front porch, he paused looking out at the expanse of soft colored blue water and brilliant white beach. Palm trees with sweeping curved trunks swayed in gentle breezes while sharp black rocks protruded from the waters as if to remind him that there is harshness in even the most beautiful place.
The open ocean lay to his left at the end of the bay, past the rickety pilings holding up the dock the supply ships used. A small warehouse held the goods unloaded from the cargo vessels, and the crews were never permitted ashore. Gareth ensured their cooperation with constant reminders of the perils of the island, especially the stories of the jumping red spiders that attacked a man’s private areas. Their fear of the island was both a good and bad thing. Good that nobody wanted to travel to the island. Bad that he paid twice what the shipping costs should be, but over the centuries his father had collected a vast fortune, a little here, more from over there, until money was no problem. He sent more to Bitters Island than Gareth could spend in ten lifetimes. But it was the principle of paying too much that Gareth objected to.
Paul and Amy lived only two houses away, a short walk, a few hundred steps on the stone-lined path. Paul was his oldest son. Flowering shrubs lined the sides, most planted there by Sara in the early days. She would go hiking in the forests on the island, a shovel over her shoulder and a bucket hanging from her free hand. Over time, the walkway not only became beautiful, the various flowers added sweet scents to the island’s air.
The path continued on much further down the beach past Amy’s house, eventually leading to a cluster of five more houses sitting on the shores of the bay, each with a wide front porch to sit and watch the water and sunsets. All had been built with the hands of his family in joyful times. While thinking of what to say to Paul and Amy, he hadn’t realized that he stood on the front steps leading to their porch.
One deep breath intended to calm and prepare himself, then he climbed the steps and stood at the door. It opened before he could knock.
Amy stood there wearing a weak smile of greeting, but dark eyes that looked angry or suspicious. “I need to talk to you and Paul. Do you have time for me?”
The smile grew fainter and looked out of place. Perhaps Sara was right about the woman. “Yes, of course. Want to come in?”
He gestured to the three chairs and the hanging swing seat on the porch. “Out here is better.”
“Oh, you mean just the three of us.” She turned and called, “Jimmy, run over to Katy’s and ask her to send Bev here to watch the little ones while your dad and I talk with Grandpa Gareth.”
Jimmy grumbled like any other twelve-year-old who was asked by his mother to do a chore, but finally rushed past and ran down the pathway to another house as Paul stood up from the dinner table and moved to stand beside Amy. Neither looked pleased to see him, and he understood. He had not visited them for too long. The family tended to come see him in his house, not the other way around, although he had to admit to himself he had visited the other children more often. Their expressions said they expected bad news.