Chapter Five
Memories
“You’re worried.”
“Of course. So are you.”
Yulen sighed as he sat on the lone chair in their upstairs bedroom and pulled off his boots. Atty eyed him from where she stood in the bathroom doorway. Rolling her braid on top of her head, she secured it with a pin. Her husband eyed her as she proceeded to undress for their bath.
“You’re worried about my decision to take Luc with us, instead of the other two,” he commented matter-of-factly. “I still have time to rescind my decision, if that’s what you want me to do.”
Atty pulled her shirt over her head and paused. He knew how special their youngest son was to her. It explained why she was sometimes overprotective of him. At least, it was one of the reasons why she tended to hover over him more than she had with the other two.
“No. No, we’ll take him with us.” She walked back into the bathroom where the large brass tub was waiting. Shucking her pants, she balled them up and tossed them at the basket sitting in the corner, mentally smiling when the clothing dropped neatly inside. Grabbing the edge of the tub, she gingerly eased one leg at a time inside the hot water. As she slowly sat down, immersing herself up to her neck, Yulen ambled into the room to join her.
For several long minutes they both sat in silence and soaked, letting their muscles relax. This was the time of day she most enjoyed. This was when they could open up and share their thoughts, and discuss things in depth and with honesty in a way they couldn’t during the day.
After a while, Yulen grabbed the bar of soap from the stool beside the tub and sat up. Before he could ask her, Atty presented her back to him. Their comfortable silence continued as he soaped her shoulders. His fingers massaged away the tenseness, leaving her soothed and malleable. After a while, he drew his arms around her and pulled her back against him. Atty settled her buttocks comfortably between his legs and leaned on his chest.
“Atty, have you ever thought that maybe Luc doesn’t have that gene in him that gives him any special ability?”
She sighed loudly. “Yes, I’ve thought of it. Countless times.”
“Maybe he’s pure Normal. It would account for much.”
She tilted her head to look up at him. “Account for what? That he doesn’t show any aptitude for a particular weapon?”
“I’m thinking on a more basic level. I’m thinking that maybe…maybe that’s why you were able to give birth to him after we lost the other three. Maybe it’s because he’s fully Normal, and doesn’t bear any Mutah genes, that he survived.” He kissed her temple as she crossed her arms over his where they lay atop her breasts.
The subject of the three times she’d been pregnant and lost all three still hurt, even after all these years. But he made a very valid point, except for one small detail.
“You’re assuming that the two babies I miscarried were Mutah,” she remarked.
“You’re right. I am. But I think you did, too.”
She couldn’t deny he was right. “I did. I mean, how could I not think that, considering Mattox and Mistelle? And…Sariah.” Her voice cracked at the mention of the tiny babe that never had a chance at life. The child that had taken her first and last breath soon after leaving her mother’s womb. A child that clearly bore the Mutah mark.
Yulen kissed her hair again. “I’ll never forget that day when you discovered you were pregnant with Luc.” He chuckled, and she felt his chest vibrate against her.
She smiled. “Well, could you blame me? Especially when we thought I’d never be able to get pregnant again?”
“Atty, if you weren’t Mutah, I fully believe that would have been the case. But somehow your body was able to heal itself. We’ve seen those same miraculous healing powers exert themselves over and over again when it comes to you and Fortune, the others.”
She ran a hand over her scarred abdomen. “And don’t forget when Mistelle broke her ankle when she was learning to walk,” Atty reminded him. “Because of the way her feet are formed, it’s a miracle she was ever able to remain upright, much less run and skip the way other children do.”
He nudged the side of her head, his way of letting her know he wanted to kiss her mouth. Atty lifted her face, giving him her lips. She rolled onto her side as the kiss deepened, and his hand cupped her face. When he finally pulled away, she rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“Do you really believe Luc has inherited any Mutah abilities?” he murmured.
“I do, but maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe I want to think he does. Otherwise, what skills does he have?”
“I’ve seen him out on the practice field,” Yulen admitted. “At his best, he’s mediocre with the sword.”
“And he knows it,” she mentioned. “His inability to wield a sword or bow bothers him. He’s disheartened by his inability. But what bothers him more is the fact that he can’t keep up with his brother and sister.” She rubbed her cheek along his wet skin. “I worry what will happen to him. I worry that he won’t be able to defend himself. I worry that he won’t be able to…” She struggled with the final word. Thankfully, he voiced it for her.
“Survive?”
Atty nodded and buried her face against his neck. His fingertips caressed her face.
“I pray that if that happens, you and I won’t be alive to witness it,” he whispered.
“I have no doubts that Mattox and Mistelle will be able to preserve Alta Novis,” she continued. “They’re strong and capable. And smart.”
Yulen chuckled again. “As long as Matt is able to hold his temper.”
That remark made her snort. “Mistelle has a temper to match, but she’s able to hold it in check better than him.”
“And Luc is the more taciturn of the three.”
“He’s the mediator. The diplomat. He manages to keep the two of them on an even keel.”
“Ah, yes,” Yulen agreed. “Which makes me wonder how well the compound will be running when we return, since he won’t be here to act as go-between.”
Atty laughed at the mental image that came to mind. Their oldest two were headstrong, true. And many times the youngest had placed himself between them to offer up a compromise whenever she and Yulen were not present to do so themselves.
It’s almost as if his ability isn’t physical, but mental.
She blinked and sat up, turning to face her husband. Yulen lifted an eyebrow in silent question.
“What if Lucien’s abilities aren’t physical? What if it lies elsewhere, and not with a weapon?”
“That’s extremely possible,” he conceded. “Somehow, I just can’t completely forego the fact that there has to be some part of you inside him that’s giving him an edge he’s yet to find and develop.”
“And by taking him with us, he might discover that edge?”
“It’s your hope as much as it is mine. That, and he needs to experience other compounds and cultures besides Foster City and New Bearinger.”
It was already an old argument. One they’d agreed to use if ever someone tried to dissuade them from taking along their least suitable offspring. But there was another reason that continued to nag her. One she couldn’t quite put her finger on. At least, not yet. Yulen saw her introspection.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, but right now I can’t form it into thought or words.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll come to you. Now come here and soap me down before we both get too pruney to enjoy it.”