The Waking

Chapter IV

Chapter IV

     I stepped back in shock. Brianna caught my eye as she put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

     "Fifteen years!" She cried. "You had all this time to tell me and yet all you ever did was lie? You told me you got that scar from a dog when you were a baby!"

     Quinn stared her down with a steely gaze.

     "I kept the truth from you to protect you. The less you knew," he sighed, "the safer you would be."

     "What?" Brianna demanded. "What kind of sorry, bullshit excuse is that? Am I supposed to just accept that you've been lying to me my whole life? What else have you told me that isn't true?"

     I touched her arm to calm her down. She pushed me away and walked out the door, slamming it behind her.

     Quinn smirked.

     "Don't mind her," he said, "she can be a moody little bitch sometimes."

     I glared at him.

     "She has good reason to be mad." I spat. "If I found out that my brother had been lying to me my entire life, I'd be pretty pissed too."

     He chuckled and sat back down on the bed.

     "Whatever, man." he laughed, shrugging his huge shoulders nonchalantly. "She knows now, it's over."

     I couldn't believe this guy.

     Almost immediately, he wiped the grin from his face. He looked at me sternly.

     "Sit." He said, beckoning to the bed. "And tell me everything."

     So I did.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

     After I finished telling Quinn about the crazy week I'd been having, he stood up. He had listened gravely the whole time, only interjecting when I skimmed over too many details. He walked calmly to the closet, and opened the door slowly. He knelt down on the left side of the closet, and pulled a small knife from his pocket.

     "What are you-" I began, as he stabbed the knife into the carpet.

     "Shush," he snapped, digging his fingers into the slit that he had made with the knife, and yanking toward himself. The carpet tore easily, and gave way to a panel in the floor that was loose. Quinn put the point of his knife under the break in the wood, raising the panel and revealing a small stone box hidden inside. He reached into the breached panel, and pulled out the box.

     "This was your mom's," he said, his voice cracking, "she gave this to me before she died. She wanted me to give it to you when your powers showed themselves."

     He handed me the box. The sides and front were ornamented with blue jewels, and the lid was covered in ornate carvings. I reached for the lid with my left hand, as I balanced it on my right. When my fingertips touched the box, three symbols in the shapes of two "x"'s and an "i", began to glow bright green.

XXI

     "Whoa..." I whispered, lightly tracing my finger along the symbols. I looked to Quinn. "What do they mean?"

     He chuckled and lifted his sleeve again, showing me his Mark.

     "You have a lot to learn yet," he said, tracing the outline of the "v" on his arm with his thumb, "But I will teach you as best I can. The Marks, like the ones on yours and my arms, symbolize what number we are."