Chapter 23: An Odd Welcome

∞

A sense of relief washed over Whitney the moment they stepped through the portal, away from the hectic scene that just wouldn’t let up, and to the offer of comfort, from the day she could first remember, to the moment she would end up leaving it. That comfort came to her through Tommy’s eyes and ears, but also through her own nose. The smell of blueberry pie greeted her warmly (Aunt Carol’s most noteworthy dish) and the aroma filled the house.

Her comfort also came from seeing her aunt and uncle again. In their eyes she was a precious and special young woman—handicapped or not—and they treated her as if she were their own. She did feel at home as Jo-Karna rose off her seat on the couch, and as Blake and Carol stood next to her. She felt at home, as the loud piercing sound of the sirens zipped to a close behind them, and she felt at home, as Raris stood up, and approached them.

“Where have you two been? We’ve been worried sick!” Carol Anne exclaimed. There was no doubt Carol Anne was worried. The smell of blueberry pie was enough to signify that, but she also wore her worry in her eyes, like a fur coat. Even Blake’s eyes looked heavy. “And were those sirens we heard? Are you being chased by the police?”

“I thought we decided against your using any more portals?” Jo-Karna said, cutting into the conversation.

“And I thought you were a Prim warrior,” Whitney retorted. “You’re dressed like you’re trying out for a part in Grease!”

Jo-Karna lowered her head. Her face flushed and she took a step backward. “You are right. I will go change immediately.”

“No, don’t!” Tommy said. “You look lovely, Jo. Stunning!”

She was still in leather, but her leather no longer something you’d expect to see a thug wearing in a dark alley. Her skirt sat high on her legs, and her blouse hung low, setting the certainty that she wasn’t just a warrior. A silver necklace hung around her neck, and her hair tied, hanging carelessly down her back. Her ears pierced with gold studs, and the pumps she wore set her calf muscles stern and proud above her feet. Her grey skin made a statement against the dark color of the leather outfit, demanding attention, and she got it from every man in the house, married or not. She was a Prim, and she was a warrior, but she was also a woman.

“He’s right,” Whitney conceded, “You look nice. What made you decide to wear that?”

“The Shooktah, actually,” Jo-Karna said bluntly.

“I don’t get it,” Tommy said. “Aren’t the Shooktah the bad guys?”

“Every year, when the North Star is set at its highest point in the sky, the Shooktah withdraw for one week. No matter what is going on with our war, they do this. Twenty years ago, it almost seemed like they were going to breach. They found a weakness in our defenses and they were capitalizing on it. You ... Jo-Laina, were actually worried we were on the brink of defeat, and she,” she stopped in frustration for a second, “you, ordered everyone to gather in the main hall. If our counter measures failed, you planned to add every name within the city walls to the ribbon. As the sun set, the Shooktah suddenly withdrew without warning. Instead of a mass execution, we ended up having a massive celebration. We’ve done it every year since, but as one of the highest members of the guard, I never get to participate. It is my job, as well as yours, Jo-Viel’s, Jo-Vanna’s, and a few of the others, to remain vigilant. Just in case the Shooktah ignore their rituals and attack when we are not expecting it. Everyone else throws a gigantic party. There is dancing, gorging on food, and much mating,” she finished with a smile.

“I was going to kill everyone in that hall?” Whitney asked.

Jo-Karna nodded.

“Are there kids?” Whitney asked.

Again, Jo-Karna nodded.

“What kind of monster am I over there?”

Jo-Karna crinkled her brow at her. “You are not a monster. Not here and not over there! If the Shooktah were to breach and take over the city, the first thing they would do is gather the children and torture them in front of their parents until each one of them died a horrific death. This is the first thing they do when they conquer their enemies. You would never allow a child to suffer that fate.”

The words Jo-Karna spoke rang true in Whitney’s heart. Her memories resurfacing, slowly, like butter melting on a hot day, but absolutely. She knew in her heart, as awful as it sounded, that Jo-Karna was right. She knew dying by her hand would be a swift and merciful death, and she knew, if she had to do something so horrifying, she would. If the other option were to make parents watch, as their children died horrible deaths, right in front of them. She would do what needed doing, and she knew that because she was Bolandak She’il. She wasn’t just a Prim, but the leader of the Prim. It was her place to protect the people within her city, even if it meant killing them.

“It’s a very nice story and I want to hear all about it,” Decker commented, “but I smell blueberry pie and that smell is making my stomach do cartwheels!”

“Decker Albright,” Carol Anne mumbled as if she had just noticed him.

Decker brushed by Whitney and stood to face Carol Anne.

“You bring a murderer into our house?” Blake demanded to know.

Decker turned his head toward Whitney. “You know I didn’t mind taking the blame for that. I really didn’t. There were even times I was proud of myself for taking the fall. I thought for sure you would at least be honest with your family about it! I guess not, though. I guess it was a case of just let Decker serve my time and sweep it all under the rug.”

“What’s he talking about,” Blake asked.

“Yeah, Whit? What’s he talking about.” Tommy echoed.

“Sit,” Whitney ordered. “All of you.”

“I will not...”

“Sit, Decker is right. I owe him more than that. Get him some pie, Tommy. I have some explaining to do.”

∞

“Feel free to cut in if I get some of this wrong, Jo-Karna. Some of the memories are coming back to me, but some of them are like mud.”

Jo-Karna nodded, but remained silent. Decker sat in the middle of the couch with Jo next to him on one side and Raris on the other. Blake and Carol sat together on the love seat, while Tommy sat in Blake’s recliner on the other side of the room. Whitney remained threaded into his mind, sifting both sights and sound from him, but remained within herself, recounting in her mind, everything she needed as she spoke.

“Decker Albright has not murdered anyone. If there is a murderer in the room, it is I. I am the one who killed Cree Duffman.”

Blake took in a deep breath, as if to speak, but Whitney quickly raised her hand.