Free Savior by Laury Falter Page A

that she is tired of running. She’s ready…ready to fight for her life, her freedom, for her absolute rights that have been taken away.” Shouts of support rose up through the small shack and he returned his gaze to them, steadfast in fearless defiance. “And so am I. But we can’t do it alone. We need you. The time is now . It’s time we stopped living by their rules. It’s time we stop living in a world they feel they have the authority to control. It’s time we built our own world!”
    Their shouts turned to a loud proclamation of their support of Jameson’s plan. In direct conflict with their motions a moment ago, they now nodded in consensus at those standing nearest them. Slowly, the room grew louder, more encouraging, more chaotic so that we didn't notice the man sprinting across the dock until he burst through the door, and his small, lanky body came to a wobbly stop across the threshold.
    He was perspiring, clearly winded and terrified. Drawing in a wheezing breath, he made an announcement that caused everyone in the room to come to a halt.
    “Another prison has been destroyed!”
     
     

 
    5  RESPECT
     
    “Upstate New York. Fifty dead…so far.” The message tumbled from the man’s thin lips as we stared back in denial.
    It was Jameson who stepped forward. “And who are you?”
    I was shocked by this question, because I thought he was from our village.
    “Tavish Malik,” he replied in frustration, repositioning his lopsided turban. “They need help. Now!"
    “And how do you know this, Tavish?” Jameson kept his voice steady as he interrogated the man, but I could see in his eyes that he was worried.
    “I…I’m their Officer.”
    Jameson blinked, fighting back his surprise, a movement anyone who wasn’t paying close attention would have missed. I knew what was going through his mind. Tavish Malik had just absorbed the bullet that Jameson had dodged.
    “Jocelyn?” said Jameson, his head snapping toward me.
    “Yes,” I replied. Fully aware of his insinuation, I nodded firmly. “I think I can handle it.”
    Tavish began assessing me curiously. “You’re the…the…”
    “Yes,” I declared, abruptly cutting him off. There was no time for stuttering. “I am The Relicuum.”
    “The Relicuum…,” he finished his thought without realizing I’d already confirmed it. “Can you heal yet?” His tone was almost pleading, desperate.
    “Lead me to them.”
    His eyes widened, although apparently not wide enough for his peripheral vision to capture my mother shoving through the crowd.
    “No, I absolutely forbid it.” She made her way to the center of the room, continuing her protest. “Being in hiding restricts access to my sources in the ministry. Without their input, you would be completely unprotected. I cannot agree to this.”
    No one in the room moved; her tone being too rigid to invite a disagreement. But then, I was her daughter.
    “You have no say in this,” I told her, breaking the news as gently as I could while still maintaining the resolve in my tone.
    Her eyebrows rose at my brazenness. “I did not impose strict security protocols or assemble an entire team of overseers to ensure your protection, just to allow you to place yourself in harm's way now.”
    I started to defy her, but she wouldn't allow it.
    “I did not escort you every holiday through every province so you could give up your life before the war has even begun. I did not….” She stopped, forcefully sighing before summing up her worries. “You don’t know the jeopardy you are putting yourself in. The world is relying on your survival.”
    Her warning rang in my ears, as it certainly must have been ringing in Jameson’s. Then, she delivered a far more impactful message.
    “And I’m not just talking about the witch world.”
    Jameson glanced toward the door where Tavish waited, but decided my mother’s statement was important enough to delay him. “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he