Barbarians Blood

Chapter 12

Dark islands sat in the distance. Dark green trees sat thickly near the center of the island traveling halfway up some cliffs. Rocks jutted out of the water. A skilled boatsman would have difficulty navigating through all the rocks just to get close to the islands. But for Sawyer it was easy. All he had to do was lift the water, which in turn lifted the boat safely above the rocks.

He never thought he would come back to these islands, but here he was. Returning only to get Willow back. He was beyond exhausted. But he kept pushing. Kept forcing himself to find his Willow. He knew how his parents could get.

"Captain," Eleanor said.

He turned around to look at her. "What?" He asked. Since he found out where Willow was being kept his crew kept their distance. No one wanted to provoke him, even if it would be an accident. They gave up on telling him to sleep and eat.

"If you don't mind me asking," Eleanor asked," but how do you plan on getting Willow from your parents?"

"Simple, I go alone," Sawyer said. His words were met with protests of his crew. They too wanted to help with rescuing Willow.

"None of you are coming," Sawyer said," I don't need to worry about any of you getting hurt or killed." Again his crew protested. They claimed that they were able to handle themselves and that he wouldn't have to worry about them. And it was true that they were capable of taking care of themselves when it came to dealing with other mortals. But fighting supernaturals was another story. Fighting his family was another story. They would not live if they fought with him against his family. It didn't matter if they outnumbered them. His parents and brother were able to control the ocean just as he can, and he would not be able to help them all if they got trapped or hurt. He only wanted to worry about getting Willow to safety.

                           ***

Sawyer stood in front of the place he once reluctantly called home. The tall stone walls jutted out of the side of the cliff. It looked like the mansion was becoming one with the cliff. Water lapped at the first few steps. With a deep breath, Sawyer unwillingly walked up the steps and pushed open the doors. The sunlight stretched past him into the entrance. Taking a few steps into the mansion Sawyer sniffed the air. He was looking for Willow's scent. Damp wet rocks, saltwater, ash, cherry blossoms. Willow was here. But her scent was faint and barely noticeable.

Bang!

The door slammed shut. Turning around Sawyer saw his brother leaning against the wall. Thomas had a smug smile on his face. A switchblade twirled between his fingers.

"Sawyer, welcome home," his mother said.

Glancing behind him he saw his mother standing in the hall. How long had she been standing there? Why did he not hear her approach?

"It's good to see you home," she said.

"Where is she?" Sawyer asked.

"Who?" His mother asked.

She was toying with him and he knew it. Holding back his anger Sawyer marched past his mother and deeper into the house. He could hear his mother and brother following him. As he searched for Willow his mother wouldn't shut up. She was going on about some random girl that she picked out for him to marry. His anger grew the more he couldn't find Willow, and the longer his mother spoke.

"Enough!" Sawyer shouted, no longer able to find his anger back. Turning to face them he was met with a pissed-off mother, and Thomas looked a little surprised. No one has ever interrupted their mother and not go without some kind of punishment. But right now he didn't care. "I'm not marrying anyone that you or father pick, I'm not staying, I'm only here for Willow," Sawyer spoke through gritted teeth.

"Well then, you came back here for no reason," his mother said," she died a few days ago."

Sawyer stood there shocked by what he heard. Willow was dead? That couldn't be right. He could smell her. Her scent was stronger now, surely that meant she was still alive.

"Now why don't you come with me," his mother said grabbing his arm. She began to lead him back the way they had come.

"....Sawyer...."

Stopping in his tracks he turned and listened.

"....Sawyer...."

It sounded like Willow. Pulling free from his mother Sawyer began to run down the hall. He was hoping and praying that his tired mind wasn't playing tricks on him. That Willow was truly alive, and well. That she and their unborn child was unharmed. The closer he got to the sound the stronger her scent became.