Riding the Red

Eiric Blanchard burst through the double doors of the library. "Where is she?" she roared. Her husband strode along behind her, his face black as a thundercloud. Behind his desk, Duncan MacTavish looked over his papers at the intruders.

The woman who had so rudely burst into his home was dressed in a black wool pantsuit and low-heeled leather boots. Her curly black hair, which he knew was usually kept in a bun, fairly crackled around her head and down her back. Her normally cinnamon skin was flushed an ugly scarlet and the pupils in her silver eyes had contracted to pinpoints. She seems annoyed, he thought. Mildly raising an eyebrow, he dismissively looked back down at his reports.

Distractedly, he asked, "How may I help you today, Eiric? Striding over to him, she ripped the papers from his hand.

"Where is my daughter?" Eiric leaned over his desk and into his face.

Her deceptively mild-mannered-looking husband, Julien Blanchard, crossed his arms and stood in front of the double doors, glowering. He had thick brown hair graying at the temples and large chocolate brown eyes hidden behind tortoise-shell glasses. He sported a neatly clipped beard and moustache, and his pale skin looked as if it hadn't seen the sun in months. While not at work, he dressed in the manner of a distracted academic—lots of tweed, wool, and corduroy, usually in neutral and earth-toned colours. Today, he was wearing chocolate cords, a russet button-down with a chocolate silk tie, an argyle sweater-vest and a tawny-grey tweed jacket. Duncan looked at him dismissively, and then leaned back in his chair. "Safe."

"Safe?!" Eiric growled, throwing his papers to the ground. "I know your definition of safe!"

"No permanent harm will come to her." Duncan said, calmly. Eiric scoffed.

"I'm interested in no harm coming to her at all! I realize that you don't know what this really means, but she's my daughter. I want her to make her own decisions—" Duncan cut over her.

"Then why haven't you told her everything?" Eiric set her jaw.

"She's not ready. She's only 20 years old!"

"I was 16. I—" This time, it was Eiric who cut over the older man.

"Yes! We all know! Laird Duncan MacTavish was merely 16 when he ascended, viciously taking back his ancestral lands, a veritable wunderkind of blood and domination, and blah, blah, blah! I don't care! She's different. Her whole life, she has been raised normally. She thinks that she's normal—what do you think it's going to do to her to spring it on her like this?"

"She'll take it. She's a MacTavish. She was bred to—"

Eiric slammed her hand on the desk and said coldly, "She's my child. Not a bloody thoroughbred or bitch." Duncan quickly rose and came around his desk. Julien started toward them.

Without deigning to look at him, Duncan sneered, "Stay in your place, hedge-witch."

Ignoring him, Julien looked at Eiric. She shook her head. Nodding slowly, he once more took up his station in front of the doors.

Quietly, each word accented with his native French, Julien said, "Listen, old man; if my daughter is hurt, I will kill you. Promise."

"Well, well, well," Duncan said, "The hedge-witch has grown teeth."

"He's always had 'teeth'. You were just too full of your own importance to notice them, and I promise if you move another step, there will be nothing left of you but ash." This last part was directed to a shadow flickering in the corner behind her. Duncan nodded and the shadow materialized as a stocky, muscular young man.

"You haven't forgotten the ways." Duncan said, approvingly. To the young man, he said, "Leave." The man obediently walked over to the doors, but Julien didn't move. Trying to push past him, the man found that Julien was immovable. Looking up to say something rude, the man quickly thought better of it, sidled around Julien and squeezed through the door. When he was gone, Duncan started to speak again, but Eiric spoke over him, saying,

"Look. I don't care about your games and visions. The bottom line is I want my daughter, I want her now, and I am ready, willing and eminently able to burn you from the inside out if you don't tell me where she is." Duncan started toward her. She moved to meet him. As they were roughly the same height, they were directly face to face. The papers on his desk began to blacken and curl.

"Eirica," he said gently, "I don't know where she is. Do you think that I didn't realize that you would come to me like this?"

She stared stonily at him, the irises of her silver eyes slowly turning to gold. "You're a liar."

"Sometimes," he admitted, mildly. "However, this time, I'm telling the truth. You know that I am." A wavering heat halo began to dance around her body.

"You don't know where she is?" she whispered. Then, thunderously, "You know exactly how we ascend and you don't know where she is?!" The temperature in the room began to rise.

"I've sent one of my very best men to do the job. He's going to take the right-hand path—" Duncan's voice was cut off as Eiric pushed her hand against his chest. His body went flying across the room. Eiric's handprint smouldered through his clothing, exposing the hard planes of his chest.

"That was not your decision!" Eiric strode toward him. Placing her hands on either side of his head, she gritted, "And what if he can't 'get the job done' through the right-hand path? Does he have your permission to take the left?" Sweat poured down Duncan's face, but he made no move to defend himself.

"No." His skin began to redden. He looked into her eyes. "Believe what you will, but I didn't authorize that. I promise, I never would have authorized that." He placed a hand against one of hers. At first she didn't move. Then she let go of him and stood up so quickly that his head thumped back against the wall. She turned around and began striding toward the door. Julien moved to open it for her, but before she could stride though, Duncan called out. "I didn't know. I swear. I never would have let that happen to you—had I known, I—" he shook his head. "Everything that I've done, I've done for you, for your daughter. I love you, Eirica!" She turned her head slightly. Her voice quavered with unshed tears as she said,

"I love you too. But if anything happens to hurt or scare my child, I'll burn you dead, Daddy."