Awakening of the Seer

by E. E. Holmes

  “Well,” Annabelle said quietly. “That’s that.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. I turned to Finn. “I need to go see Irina.”

  He stared at me. “Why?”

  “I have to go apologize to her,” I said. “And I have to break my promise.”

  Flavia, Annabelle, and Finn all stared at me like I’d just announced I was going to fly to the moon.

  “Jess . . . are you sure?” Finn asked after a moment.

  “Am I sure? Am I sure I don’t want to sacrifice one of my friends to keep a promise I have almost no chance of keeping? Yes,” I said in a vehement hiss. “It was rash and stupid of me to make that promise, which isn’t surprising because I’m a rash and stupid person, but I won’t let Annabelle pay the price for that. I wish I could have saved Irina. I do. I wish I could have found a way to rescue her from this. But I can’t. The prophecy showed me what would happen if I kept the promise. Well, I’m not keeping it. I’m breaking it. That sketch no longer means anything because I won’t let it.”

  “But Jess . . .” Annabelle began.

  “But, what? Show me how to keep this promise and keep you alive at the same time. Show me how to do it, and I’ll do it. Please.”

  She didn’t speak. No one spoke.

  “Take me to the clearing,” I told Finn.

  “Wait,” Flavia said.

  I turned on her impatiently. “Flavia, I know you want to free Irina, too, but—”

  “No, it’s not that,” Flavia said. “It’s just . . . you can’t get into the clearing unless you have the right Casting on you, remember? Hang on.”

  She ran into the wagon and emerged again a few seconds later with a small leather Casting bag. A few muttered phrases and a quick rune later, she had finished.

  “There. It’s the same one that Dragos gave to Finn,” Flavia said. “It will get you into the clearing to talk to her, but it won’t protect you from her if she attacks, so keep your distance and be quick. Now that her sentence has been passed, they will likely send someone from the Council to inform Irina of what’s happened. You don’t want to be caught there.”

  “Thank you, Flavia,” I said, “for everything.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. I wish we could have solved this one.”

  “Me, too.” I turned to Annabelle. “Will you wait with Flavia until I get back?”

  Annabelle nodded. “Of course. Jess, I know this isn’t easy for you. Breaking this promise. And I know you’re doing it for me. Thank you.”

  I didn’t answer. Knowing what I was about to do to Irina, that thank you felt like a slap in the face—a slap that I absolutely deserved.

  §

  The clearing was silent. The barrier yielded to my tentative touch; I felt my fingers glide through it like a draft of cool air. The frosty grass beneath my feet made a soft crunching noise, but it did not matter. She was already waiting for me.

  She was sitting in the open doorway of the wagon, her knees tucked up under her chin, manacles on her wrists and ankles. She looked older than the last time I had seen her up close in her body. Her hair was threaded through with much more gray, and her eyes seemed sunken in the sockets. All the fight had gone out of her. That feral, manic energy was gone, dissipated into the night with the smoke that had sealed her fate. There was no surprise in her gaze as she watched me approach, no gleam of interest. Only resignation and, perhaps, a bit of contempt.

  “I knew you would come, Northern Girl,” she said as I planted my feet, still ten feet away from the door of the wagon. “I recognized your Caomhnóir when he intervened to rescue the boy. And then I thought I glimpsed you on the edge of the clearing.”

  “Yes, that was me,” I said.

  “You could have helped me,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t have killed him. All I wanted was the dagger.”

  “I know. I would have given it to you,” I said. “But I couldn’t get through the barrier then.”

  “But you bring me no weapon now.”

  I swallowed hard. “No.”

  She laughed. It was a hard, bitter thing, hardly a laugh at all. “I see. I thought, when I saw you . . . but, no. So, all Durupinen promises are worth the same. Even yours.”

  I didn’t respond. What could I say? She was right. I was betraying her as surely as the Travelers had done. I wasn’t about to deny it.

  “I came to apologize to you, Irina. I tried. Honestly, I did. I testified before the Council. I defended you. But they had condemned you before I’d even begun.”

  “Foolish child,” she hissed at me. “Did you truly believe that they would free me of their own accord? They, who have been the source of my torment for so many years? They, who have heard my pleas and turned away?”

  “Yes,” I said weakly. “I had more faith in them than you did. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

  “Then why, now, do you come to me? Simply to stare? To absolve yourself of responsibility? Be gone from this place, Northern Girl.”

  “I am not absolving myself of responsibility. I am taking it,” I said. “I’m apologizing not because I need you to accept it, but because I think you need to hear it. I wanted you to know that I didn’t forget you. I did come here hoping to help you. I . . . I tried . . . but the price . . . the price was too high.”

  “And what was the price? What would it have cost you?” she asked.

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to tell her that I chose someone else’s life over hers. I could hardly admit it to myself. Annabelle’s life didn’t matter more than Irina’s. It just mattered more to me. That was the awful, selfish truth of it.

  Irina laughed again, and it rose like a shriek into the night. In a nearby tree, several startled ravens took flight, cawing madly. “My life, my suffering, is poor currency in the pockets of the Durupinen. I have known this. You do not tell me anything that surprises me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely. “Truly, I am.”

  Irina leaned forward. I leaned in, too. “Take your apologies and your empty promises and leave this place,” she whispered.

  What could I do, refuse the only thing she had left to ask of me? I turned, suppressing the urge to look back, but before I had walked even a few paces, I froze.

  Ileana stood beside Finn on the edge of the clearing, her pipe dangling from the corner of her mouth. Behind her, half a dozen Caomhnóir hulked in the shadows, daggers drawn. Finn had his hands raised up by his shoulders, a sign of surrender.

  “Come with me, Miss Ballard,” Ileana barked, and padded off into the woods.

  24

  The Dormant

  “SO.”

  The trappings of the courtroom had not yet been cleared from Ileana’s tent. Half-eaten food, scraps of paper, and a number of forgotten personal items lay strewn about the place. Several chairs were overturned. A strange scent perfumed the air, emanating from the fire, and a pinkish haze hung in the torchlit gloom—the remains of the red smoke. As I stood amidst the mess, I felt like a teenager, about to be told off by a parent for throwing a raging party in her absence. Of course, I had never done anything of the sort when my mother was alive. In fact, I was generally the one yelling at her for wrecking the place after a binge. All of these thoughts flew through my head in the matter of about three seconds, leaving me with a mad desire to laugh out loud.

  “Yes, High Priestess,” I said, conquering the laughter and bowing my head respectfully instead.

  “Why are you here, Jessica Ballard?” she asked.

  The question pulled me up short. It was not the one I had anticipated answering. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what I say. Why are you here, in our camp?”

  “I . . . I was invited here to testify. You invited me,” I said slowly.

  “That may be true but it does not answer the question. I know why you were invited. I want to know why you accepted the invitation,” Ileana said.

  “I wasn’t aware that I was allowed to refuse it,” I hedged.

  “Do
you refuse to answer the question?” Ileana snapped.

  I sighed. I knew what she meant, and she knew that I did. “I came because of Irina. I wanted to help her.”

  “Help her how?”

  “I hoped that my testimony would help to free her.”

  “You hoped to influence our system of justice,” Ileana said.

  “I hoped that, when you heard my version of what had happened, it might convince you that this prolonged torture should stop!” I cried.

  “You think us the monsters and Irina the innocent victim?” Ileana laughed. “What a naïve creature you are, for one that has seen so much of the world.”

  “I’m not naïve. I know that Irina is dangerous. I know she’s done terrible things to free herself. But can’t you understand why she’s done them? You’ve driven her to it! Why can’t you just find it in your heart to let her go?”

  “There are some betrayals that cannot be forgiven,” Ileana said sharply. “She would peddle our secrets out in the world. She very nearly breached the Gateway system.”

  “And she wouldn’t have done any of those things if you’d just let her Cross!” I cried. “How can you look at what she’s done and not understand that you are partly to blame for it?”

  Finn shifted uncomfortably beside me, and I knew from the subtle change in his posture that I had crossed a line. But I didn’t care.

  “All of your talk about bonds of blood and sacredness of Traveler culture, what does any of it matter if you don’t apply it to the most vulnerable amongst you?” I went on. “Irina is only in this state because your Council used her as a guinea pig to test the limits of Walking. Her condition is a result of their decisions, not hers, but now she’s being punished for it!”

  “You think we should ignore her heinous crimes?” Ileana asked, almost amusedly.

  “I think you should admit that her crimes could have been prevented by a little mercy on your part. Why couldn’t you just have let her die three years ago?”

  “We are not in the habit of leaving our own to die. Our code does not allow for suicide or murder. We are here to shepherd spirits, not to play God.”

  “Oh, so murder and suicide are out, but decades of prolonged torture are just fine?” I asked. I dropped my face into my hands and rubbed at my temples. “Look, I already know I’ve lost, okay? I understand that you aren’t going to change your mind. I’m not going to wipe out centuries of Traveler culture with a single stump speech. I get it. Can I go?”

  “I want to know what you said to Irina in the clearing,” Ileana demanded, her nostrils flaring.

  “Why? What are you so afraid of?”

  “I am the High Priestess of these clans, and it is my business to know when someone interacts with one of my prisoners,” Ileana cried. Her hands were gripping the arms of her throne like claws. “You have just told me you wished her free. You were just found out of bounds speaking privately to her. Now what did you say to her?”

  “I apologized to her,” I said.

  Ileana couldn’t have looked more surprised. “You . . .”

  “Yes. I told her that I was sorry. Sorry that my words were not enough to convince you to let her be free at last.”

  “And that is all?” Ileana pressed. She squinted at me with those sharp, cold eyes.

  “Yes. That is all,” I said, relieved that I could tell her the truth.

  “You broke through barriers and risked being caught just to tell her you were sorry?” she demanded again, clearly incredulous.

  “Yes. That’s part of my code,” I said coolly.

  Ileana glared at me. I glared right back.

  “Like so many members of the Ensconced Clans, you do not respect our ways or our laws,” Ileana hissed through gritted teeth. “On both occasions that you have set foot in our encampment, you have caused undue trouble. I want you to leave these woods and never return. You will not be welcomed back amongst us, Jessica Ballard. Consider yourself warned.”

  “Warning duly noted,” I replied with a sarcastic inclining of my head. “Don’t lose any sleep over me, though. I have no intention of setting foot here again.”

  §

  Finn and I walked quickly away from Ileana’s tent. Dragos followed closely behind us, Ileana having insisted that he see us personally to the border.

  “That was foolish,” Finn said quietly. “Losing your temper with her like that.”

  “I know,” I muttered. “I couldn’t help it.”

  “The Travelers are not enemies you want to have, Jess,” Finn went on.

  “I know that!” I hissed. “Nobody is an enemy I want to have. But now that I’ve been banned from ever seeing them again, I’m not going to worry too much about it.”

  Finn grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop.

  “Damnit, Finn, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it back! I’ve already agreed it was stupid, what else do you want me to—”

  “Something’s going on. Something’s happened,” Finn said tensely.

  I looked around. He was right. Caomhnóir were running through the encampment, telling people to get into their wagons and tents. One of them spotted Dragos and sprinted right toward him.

  “Dragos, she’s gone! The Walker is gone! Escaped!”

  “What?” Dragos gasped. “But . . . how?”

  “I was walking the perimeter, like you told me to,” the Caomhnóir panted. “And then there were shouts of fire from the far end of the encampment. I ran to help, and when I came back—I was only gone a few minutes—she was gone!”

  “But she can’t have! The Castings!” Dragos cried.

  “All broken,” the Caomhnóir replied. “Someone has helped her to escape.”

  “What is the commotion out here?” Ileana had appeared in the entrance to the tent, hands upon her bony hips. “Explain yourselves at once,” she barked at the Caomhnóir.

  “The Walker is gone, High Priestess. Escaped,” Dragos said, leaping to attention.

  Ileana’s face went white. “That’s impossible!”

  “It is true, High Priestess,” the other Caomhnóir replied. “We responded to a fire in a wagon, and when we returned, she was gone. The Castings were broken. We cannot find her.”

  Ileana turned a furious glare on me. “What have you done?” she hissed.

  “Nothing!” I cried. “I’ve been inside that tent with you!”

  Ileana spat on the ground. “Do not lie to me! When you were in that clearing, we found you—”

  Dragos stepped up beside Ileana. “High Priestess, we checked all of the Castings when we found the Northerner in the clearing. All of them were intact.”

  “But she entered the clearing, so she must have broken—”

  “I just inked on one of these,” I said, holding up my wrist and showing her the rune, and thankful that it was on the other wrist than the one Jeta had drawn on me, so that I did not have to reveal that I’d been Rifting. “It’s the same one all the Caomhnóir have to enter the clearing.” There was no way that I was going to drag Flavia into this, not after all the help she had given me.

  “And how did you know how to—”

  “Because I have one, too,” Finn said, stepping forward and showing his own wrist. “Dragos himself gave it to me, so that I would have full ability to do my duty in all areas of the encampment.”

  Ileana stared back and forth between the two of us as though trying to catch one of us in a lie. We both stared stonily back at her. Undaunted, Ileana turned her glare on Dragos instead. “We’ve only been gone from that clearing thirty minutes at most. She cannot have gotten far. What have you done to secure the borders of the encampment?

  “The Castings will alert us if she crosses over the border in human form. And she cannot Walk. The Castings upon her are too numerous and too powerful. She lacks both the knowledge and the materials to undo them,” Dragos said.

  Ileana let out a defiant cackle. “Then she is as good as caught. But we must find her before she has the chance to damage he
r body beyond repair. Split up the Caomhnóir. Use half to patrol around the borders, and the other half to search the wagons. But once you have given the orders, I want you to personally escort these two from the camp. I will not allow them to further interfere with our handling of the Walker.”

  “As you wish it, High Priestess,” Dragos said, bowing. He turned to the other Caomhnóir and quietly relayed the orders, then snapped at us: “Come with me. Quickly.”

  “What about our things?” I asked.

  “They will find their way to you,” Dragos said, shrugging unconcernedly.

  “Meaning someone will send them?” I asked.

  “Eventually,” he said, not bothering to look at me.

  “Great, thanks,” I muttered, wondering if I even really needed anything I’d brought. Luckily, my cell phone was tucked in my back pocket out of habit, although I had no service to speak of. I looked over at Finn, but he answered my question before I could ask it by patting his vest pocket. I heard a muffled sound of jingling keys.

  We arrived at the central fire, but no one was milling around it. Instead, faces peeked out from the surrounding tents and wagons, staring at us as we passed.

  “I don’t see any damage from a fire,” I said as we walked. “I wonder where . . .”

  “My Caomhnóir tells me it was the Scribes’ wagon that was damaged,” Dragos said.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “What?!”

  Dragos looked over his shoulder at me, eyebrows raised. “I said the fire was in the Scribes’ wagon.”

  “But . . . I . . . was anyone hurt? Is everyone okay?” I gasped.

  Dragos shrugged. “It was a very small fire, easily contained.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. My friend who’s staying here, the Dormant—”

  “Jess! Over here!”

  I spun around and cried out in relief. Flavia and Annabelle were coming toward us. Annabelle had her knapsack slung over her shoulder. Both looked sweaty and anxious. Flavia was holding on to Annabelle’s elbow as she walked.