3

Chapter 3

Glaston Township, State: Percival, Republic of Shantu, Continent: Barat Year: 2040, Planet: Grimoire

Once outside the cramped emergency clinic, the matriarch slammed a fist into a nearby tree trunk. The tree crashed straight down the road, causing every building to rattle, and clinking crashing noises could be heard as crockery broke. That only released a small smidgeon of the matriarch's building fury. She couldn't believe the audacity of that woman. "How dare she defy me yet again?" That fucking bitch. Not only that but she'd ensured no one could touch her illegitimate brats without severe repercussions, not even the newborns. The matriarch gritted her teeth with fury. She kicked another tree and that one also fell beneath the fury of the blow. What weak saplings. Soon the entire forest would fall at this rate. Then their township would be exposed for other populations to see more keenly. That would never do. The last thing the matriarch wanted was for people to come and snoop around Glaston. Otherwise, she might lose her authority.

With that awareness kicking in, the matriarch sighed. "I shall have to do something about that family. They cannot escape these boundaries and live to talk about what happens here when it is time for a change of vessels." That information was top-secret and the success of the township's ability to flourish and remain independent this long.

"Garic, Thompson." She looked around and saw where her minions awaited her command.

"Yes, ma'am." They stood at attention.

"Thompson, I want you to post sentries around the clinic. Alert me the moment any one of those brats or the woman leaves." Well, at least these people knew how to obey her commands.

"Yes, ma'am." Thompson bowed. "Shall I do something to delay them from reaching the boundaries?"

"No, that won't be necessary." The matriarch heaved a loud sigh of aggravation. "I already have a notion of how to take care of them so that they can't escape." After all the blood of Glasson ran through their veins. There were many different ways they could literally be tied to the earth, trees, and roots of the plants of this area specifically. The matriarch had managed to gather the necessary ingredients to drain them of their vitality should they dare leave Glaston township.

"Garic, I need you to gather these items for me." She'd been unable to obtain a few things that had personal meaning to the brats. "If you succeed at this, I shall promote you to one of the personal escorts for the official daughters who're soon to reach age." After all the matriarchs still had to produce practical children since many of her older ones passed from inability to master certain skills of survival in this unforgiving land.

"Yes, ma'am," Garic accepted the list.

"You are both dismissed." This was merely a small delay to her plans. Fortunately, she already managed to obtain a different vessel that was far more submissive and would do whatever she commanded. The Glasson matriarch fumed with acute fury that once more her desired vessel was soon to self-destruct. "Well, now, even if she does self-destruct, her brats can become useful test subjects for that new strain of virus." The matriarch shrugged. "It serves them right for having been born at all." Satisfied she headed to her quarters. Now she had to prepare for the ritual that would begin at dusk.

*

Hmm, that was ominous. Evidently, the woman was still scheming to find a child that would suit her needs as a vessel to accommodate a very domineering old soul that jumped from generation to the next. Though Davina had chosen her path specifically to enrage her mother with the clear refusal to become her vessel. Obviously, this wasn't going to be the end of that matter.

A sigh escaped her as Davina stared after the matriarch with dismay. Her mouth tightened because she'd never acknowledged the woman as her biological mother. There were too many discrepancies surrounding the time of Davina's birth, not to mention all the controversies surrounding the matriarch's behavior when it came to raising her daughters, sons, and siblings.

That was why Davina hadn't bothered with bringing her children to the main family house let alone having them acknowledged or put into the official register. It seemed though that that woman wasn't done yet when it came to Davina and her family. "That woman is going to meet her demise sooner or later." She muttered in irritation.

Meanwhile, she had to figure something else out. Clearly, she couldn't count on Terabithia nor Samuel to protect her precious fledglings. It was too obvious to Davina that they would sell the children to the matriarch as soon as they set foot into their custody. That would never do.

There was rustling outside the door. Watchers, or someone else?

Seconds later a gentle wave of warmth rolled into the room and engulfed the small family sitting tensely within.

Ah! So, they'd come. How unexpected and pleasant a surprise and one needed right now. "Please enter, who is waiting outside," Davina called. Now onto other matters.

Hermina Marten entered with a much younger couple.

Davina smiled. "Stepcousin Joan and Marcus Whitcombe." She was surprised that they would willingly defy the matriarch.

Joan and Marcus smiled slightly and bowed their heads. "Good to see you though not quite in these circumstances," Joan murmured. Her eyebrows rose when the eldest child asked an odd question.

Marcus grunted in surprise as well, though he looked amused.

Davina was startled since she'd forgotten the reason why she'd wanted the picnic outside because of other variables that had landed her in this place. "Oh right, the picnic and the reason for having it in that place." She nibbled her lower lip. "I just don't know how we'd get over there without problems occurring." It wasn't that she didn't want to go. Davina just didn't have the strength to move around as she had earlier.

Marcus and Joan exchanged glances with one another. At last, Marcus nodded. He stepped outside.

Joan remained inside. "I have a suggestion if you don't mind hearing me out." She gazed between Davina and the children.

Davina merely nodded. "I'm listening." She was curious to hear what Joan had to say. One thing about her stepcousin, Joan was never at a loss when it came to creative schemes if it involved breaking through strict scrutiny and nasty traps set to stop them from escaping or worse designed to kill without being obvious.

The children gazed at Joan curiously because she was the only one giving them a stray beam of hope right now. Even Davina could use that especially since she was so cold right now.

*

Wow, what an ugly-mannered woman. She was their grandmother? Harper couldn't fathom that being the case. He rubbed his arms uneasily. This whole situation was very unpleasant indeed. How were they supposed to avoid the scrutiny of such an individual?

The children began shivering uneasily with the exit of the furious matriarch. Something just wasn't right with that woman's head. All her nattering finally made them understand just how precariously their mother's life remained on the line all this time. No wonder she'd taken so many precautions when it came to their lives and all the lessons in survival and self-sufficiency too. Everything clicked for the first time in their heads of what was going to happen if they weren't careful enough.

When three people entered the room at their mother's call, Harper was surprised to recognize the solicitor as having returned. Who were the other two though? When their mother called them stepcousins, Harper was bemused. Now this was an interesting twist on the situation. Not only that but Davina trusted them with more favor than the others who'd stormed out in high dudgeon. Well, maybe things might go differently around these two.

Maybe he would test them with a question. A sigh escaped Harper. "So mother, shall we go for another picnic? This time to another place." He knew their mother must've had something in mind for this event.

However, it was also probable that she'd forgotten in all the chaos that permeated the clinic.

Sure enough, she looked surprised. However, the woman, Joan Whitcombe had come prepared, and Harper listened with interest to what she suggested. It sounded plausible, but would their mother actually agree to what she suggested?