by E. E. Holmes
“No, wait!” Nan said. “I need to know . . . what is going to happen to my mother? Her mind isn’t . . . she isn’t responsible for . . . please, don’t lock her away. She’s not well.”
“I can make no promises about your mother, Nan,” Celeste said, and though her voice was firm, it was not without empathy. “The crime she attempted to commit is very serious. Were it not for the expeditious responses of Mr. Carey and the other Caomhnóir, both Hannah and Jess could have been killed. There is much to consider, but I do give you my word that we will take your mother’s mental state under advisement. Many here are already well-acquainted with her history.”
Nan sniffed, nodded miserably, and turned to go, still rubbing at her scarlet cheek.
Finn stepped forward, clicking his heels together and bowing at the waist. “Deputy Priestess, I would be more comfortable leaving my clan if I knew all elements of the situation are under control.”
Celeste frowned slightly. “What elements are those, Mr. Carey?”
“He means Marion,” Milo said, his tone and expression fierce. He and Finn locked eyes, an unspoken agreement flowing between them like a current. “He wants to know what you’ve done with her. Personally, I’d be most comfortable if you told me she’s chained up somewhere.”
“So would I,” Karen muttered.
It was Fiona, not Celeste, who answered. “After Seamus questioned Nan, he sent Braxton to fetch Marion and escort her to the Caomhnóir office for interrogation. I expect she’s there, or at least on her way.”
“Very well,” Celeste said, nodding. “Mr. Carey? Spirit Guide Chang? Does that control the elements of this situation to your satisfaction?”
“Does the Caomhnóir office have handcuffs and leg irons?” Milo grumbled.
Finn gave me a swift look that seemed to ask, “Are you okay if I go?” I gave him the tiniest nod I could manage. “I will be on guard outside your quarters as soon as I am finished. I will gather as much information about Marion’s interrogation as I can,” he told us, and marched out, Nan scurrying ahead of him.
“Thank you, Finn,” Karen said.
We watched in silence as Finn closed the door behind him.
“With your permission, I’d like to take the girls back to their room. They’ve had a trying morning,” Karen said to Celeste, and though she was asking permission, she was already standing expectantly.
“Very well,” Celeste agreed. “I’ll send Seamus along, if there is anything else to tell you.”
Fiona stepped quickly forward. “Could Jess and I have a moment?” she asked, addressing Karen, but looking at me.
“Yeah, okay,” I said.
Karen looked as though she wanted to refuse, but she just sighed instead. “We’ll be waiting for you out in the hallway, Jess,” she said, and headed for the door. Hannah and Milo stood to follow her. Hannah squeezed my shoulder as she passed, and Milo sent his silent support zinging through the connection. After a few very long, very loaded moments, Fiona finally spoke, though she had to clear her throat a couple of times to coax the words into an audible volume.
“What a fecking mess this is, eh?”
“That’s an accurate summary of the morning, yeah.”
“Look, I’m sorry I never told you, Jess. I didn’t want you to think I . . . that I couldn’t mentor you fairly, just because of the history between our clans. I’m not my mother, and you’re not your grandmother. I’ve always known that, and I can promise I’ve never let their troubles affect how I’ve treated you.”
“So, you’re saying you throw that many chairs at everyone?” I asked, with a spark of a smile.
Fiona’s tense face relaxed, and she actually grinned. “Exactly that many chairs. Sometimes more, if I’m honest.”
“We’re good, then,” I said.
Fiona’s grinned faded. “Are you sure that you—”
“We’re good,” I said firmly. “And . . . I’m really sorry about your mother. I understand what it’s like, having a mom who’s been swallowed whole by all of this.”
“I know you do. We’ll get her sorted. I just hope the Council sees clear to send her home instead of locking her up,” Fiona said.
“Karen will talk to them, and so will we, if we need to. I know the last thing Hannah would want is for anyone to be locked up when what they really need is help.”
Fiona nearly managed a smile, but then frowned once again. “Look, have you spoken to Lucida yet?”
My stomach lurched. “No. With all we’ve had to do to prepare for today, I haven’t had a chance.” I’m also purposely avoiding it, I added silently to myself.
Fiona bit her lip. “Right, yeah. Well, just make sure you do, and soon. I’m working on those sketches for you, but there are some questions I need answered if we’re going to get to the bottom of them. It’s strange territory—jumping to conclusions isn’t an option. It’s probably the last thing you want to do, but . . .” she didn’t finish the sentence, but I understood her anyway. What I wanted wasn’t really a factor.
“I’ll speak to Finn and Mrs. Mistlemoore,” I told her. “And I’ll come to see you when it’s done.”
“Good. And . . . don’t let her mess with you.”
“What do you mean, ‘mess with me?’”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “It’s Lucida. Use your imagination.”
8
Pledges
KAREN, MILO, HANNAH, and I walked back to our room in silence. Perhaps we were all still reeling from what had happened. I, for one, still hadn’t actually allowed myself to absorb the reality of it all. It felt like my brain was trying to protect itself by keeping the memory at a safe distance. Even as I tried to recall it, many of the details fell into a blurry state, like I was trying to remember something while half-asleep. I was sure that the trauma of it would hit me, and soon, but for the moment, I was grateful for my well-developed defense mechanisms.
The entrance hall was nearly deserted as we passed by it on our way to our room. Nearly.
“Oi! Jess! Hannah!”
Savvy was jogging up the staircase toward us, looking uncharacteristically serious. “Bloody hell! Are you all right? I’ve been looking for you two everywhere!”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” I told her. “As predicted, we are super popular.”
Savvy made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sigh of relief. “I don’t know whether to hug you or slap you, mate!”
“Why would you slap me? Did the attempted stabbing not add enough shock value for you?”
“No, I mean, the nomination itself! I can’t believe you knew it was coming and you didn’t tell me!”
“Sorry, Savvy,” Hannah said. “I didn’t want anyone to know, just in case I changed my mind. Unfortunately, the wrong people still found out.”
“Yeah, but you showed ‘em all, didn’t you? When you accepted like that . . .” she let out a long whistle. “That was brilliant! I actually saw steam come out of Marion’s ears.”
“Yeah, I think we’re lucky she didn’t drop a cartoon anvil on our heads,” I said, smiling back in spite of myself. “Although, she may have done worse.”
“How do you mean?”
“Walk with us upstairs. I’ll explain everything.”
I used the walk back to our room to fill Savvy in on all of the details of our meeting in Celeste’s office. Her mouth hung further and further open with each new revelation.
“Fiona’s mum?!”
“Yeah.”
“And you think there’s a chance that Marion actually told her to attack you?”
“It’s Marion,” I scoffed. “She probably sharpened the knife for her.”
“No,” Karen said, chiming in for the first time as we closed the door to our room. “Marion is much too smart to make an error like that. She would never leave any sort of trail, verbal or otherwise, that could directly connect her to that attack. Of course, that doesn’t mean that she still didn’t orchestrate it all the same.”
“Orchestrate it h
ow?” I asked.
“She created the perfect set of circumstances,” Karen said, her tone curt and clipped in her anger. “She knew Bernadette was unwell. She knew her animosity for our clan was fierce. Marion brought Bernadette here knowing that Bernadette would have to sit there and watch her greatest fear come to pass: Clan Sassanaigh gaining power once again. She must have known that Bernadette would react strongly, and there was plenty she could have said to Bernadette to ensure her panic was heightened. I do not doubt for a second that Marion hoped something like this would happen.”
Hannah and I looked at each other solemnly, and I saw the same resignation in her face. This was going to be over before it had even begun.
“We’re in over our heads, aren’t we?” Hannah asked quietly. “You’re going to ask us to pull out of the race.”
Karen gave her a long, hard look and then said, “No.”
Hannah looked shocked. “No?”
“No,” Karen repeated. “I want to. I want to put you on a plane home tonight, Airechtas be damned, and lock you in your room like a pair of unruly teenagers. But I can’t.”
“Why not?” Hannah asked.
Karen hesitated. “I’ll tell you, Hannah, but I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it.”
“Tell me anyway,” Hannah urged her.
Karen sighed. “Because the way you stood up in there, just moments after that woman attacked you, and coolly, confidently, and without a hint of fear, told Celeste that you accepted the nomination—all I could see in that moment was your mother.”
Hannah’s face went blank. “My mother?”
“Yes. Your mother, whatever you may think about her, was an incredibly brave person. I never once saw her hesitate to stand up against something she believed was wrong. In fact, she was the reason I decided to become a lawyer. She inspired me to confront injustice wherever I saw it. Whatever else she may have battled against, whatever demons got the better of her, whatever mistakes she may have made, she was one of the bravest women I ever knew. And watching you in there today—I would never have been foolish enough to stand in your mother’s way, and I won’t be foolish enough to stand in yours.”
Hannah’s face was flushed and her eyes were bright. She didn’t say anything, but dropped her gaze to her own hands, now clasped in her lap.
Karen seemed to realize that she’d touched a nerve and quickly changed the subject. “Will the two of you be okay here without me? I have a few people I need to speak to, and I’d like to do it now, while Marion is still being questioned,” she said.
“We’ll be fine,” I said quickly. “Finn should be back here soon, anyway.”
“And I’m a right old brawler when I need to be,” Savvy said, clapping Karen on the back. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”
Karen looked for a moment as though Savvy’s words had given her a whole new reason to worry, but she took a deep breath and swallowed her misgivings for the time being. “I’ll be back soon. I’d rather you didn’t venture down to the dining room quite yet. It’s bound to be crowded and I don’t want you to have to navigate the rough waters without me, all right? Humor me.”
We knew better than to argue. Instead we assured her and reassured her all the way across the room and out the door.
“I’ll wait to go down to lunch, too, then,” Savvy said, flopping down on my bed. “Hope she’s back soon, though. I’m bloody starving. I spilled half my popcorn.”
“Here, take mine,” I said, reaching into my messenger bag and thrusting the crumpled popcorn bag into her hands. “I was too busy hyperventilating and dodging knives to eat any of it.”
“Cheers,” Savvy said, snatching it from me and plunging her hand inside.
“Here, take mine, too,” Hannah said, handing her bag over.
“What have you got against popcorn, then?” Savvy asked, starting to look suspicious.
“Nothing,” Hannah replied. “I just didn’t appreciate the joke.”
“Oh, please, I’m hilarious and you know it,” I said. “I was just trying to get you to smile a bit. How was I supposed to know what was going to happen?”
Hannah didn’t respond. Instead, she lay on her bed and looked intently up into her canopy, as though she might find a solution to this mess tucked up in the folds of fabric.
“Well, anyway, I didn’t just come here to swipe all your nibbles,” Savvy said, standing up and looking, for a moment, slightly embarrassed. “I actually came to give you this.”
She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and drew out a slightly crumpled envelope. She held it out to me, and I took it, turning it over to examine it curiously. It was made of thick, fibrous parchment and had a purple wax seal on the front. The design stamped into the circle of wax was that of a triskele.
“What is this, Sav?” I asked.
“Just open it, mate,” Savvy said. “Both of you.”
Mystified, I carried the envelope over to Hannah’s bed and slid up onto the mattress beside her, Milo floating along behind me. Hannah sat up, her own face mirroring my confusion. As the three of us bent over it, I broke the seal, unfolded the heavy vellum paper within, and read the words aloud.
“Clan Lunnainn does hereby pledge its faith, its support, and its sworn vote to the Clan Sassanaigh for the post of Council Member for the Northern Clans on this, the third day of the 204th Airechtas of the Northern Clans. Bound in word, bound in sisterhood, and sealed in blood.”
“Damn,” Milo whispered. “Blood? Seriously?”
“It’s a metaphor,” Savvy said. “I didn’t actually . . . y’know . . . bleed on it, or anything.”
I looked up, stunned. “What is this?” I repeated.
Savvy frowned. “Didn’t you read it? That’s my vote. Well, my clan’s vote. For you. For the Council.”
I looked at Hannah, who gaped. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve voted already?” Milo asked. “But they haven’t even finished the nominations yet.”
“That’s what’s called a pledge,” Savvy explained. “Every clan has the choice to put one in writing and deliver it to the candidate clan before the final vote.”
“A pledge?” Hannah repeated, still looking dumbfounded.
“I hope I’ve done it all right,” Savvy said, looking a little sheepish. “I followed what the book told me to do, copied the exact words and all. Nearly burned my bloody finger off trying to seal it. But it’s binding.”
“Sav, how did you even know to do this?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Savvy shrugged sheepishly. “I read about it.”
“You read about it? In . . . in a book?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, in a bloody book!” Savvy replied defensively. “Frankie was asking me questions about the Airechtas and I didn’t know the answers. I thought that was bad form for a mentor, so I went to the library and got a book about the Airechtas from one of the Scribes. I’ve been reading it so Frankie don’t think I’m a tosser for not knowing what’s going on.”
A slow grin spread over my face. “You found the library?”
Savvy rolled her eyes and held her hand out, snapping her fingers. “I’ll have it back if you’re going to be a—”
“No, no!” Hannah cried, taking the pledge and holding it to her chest. “It’s . . . this is . . .” But instead of completing the thought, Hannah slid off the bed, bounded across the room, and threw herself at Savvy in a fierce hug.
“Whoa, there, wee one!” Savvy laughed, stumbling backward with the force of the embrace, but flinging her arms around Hannah and hugging her back. “You pack quite the punch, don’t you?”
“In hugs as in life, don’t let appearances fool you,” I said, smiling. “Tiny but tough.”
Hannah broke away from Savvy, still grinning, but with suspiciously bright eyes. “Thank you, Sav. This means so much to us—to me.”
Savvy’s cheeks went pink. “It’s nothing. Surely you knew I’d be voting for you.”
“I’m still confused, th
ough,” Milo said. “If everyone is just going to make pledges ahead of time, what’s the point of having a vote? If everyone’s already pledged, we’ll know who won before we even reach the voting, won’t we?”
“Not quite,” Savvy said. “Well, I guess you might, if it was a landslide. But for one thing, a lot of clans won’t make pledges. They don’t like the idea of showing their hand or taking the chance that their vote might go to someone else, because pledges are transferable, mate. You can do what you want with it.”
Hannah frowned. “What would I do with it, besides keep it?”
“Oh, I read all about it,” Savvy said, throwing her chest out importantly. “You can use pledges like currency. They give you leverage, see?”
“No, I don’t see. A vote is a vote, right?” Hannah said.
“Nah, pledges are even better,” Savvy said. “You can use them to bargain. So, if other clans can see that you’re racking them up, right, they may start trying to negotiate with you. Trade pledges for campaign promises, or support on future legislation, rubbish like that.”
“Oh, I see,” Hannah said. “This process is more complicated than I realized. I hope Celeste is planning to explain all this to us in the nominee meeting tomorrow.”
“I’m sure she will. You’ll need to be prepared. You know people like Marion will be gaming this part of the system for all it’s worth,” Milo said.
Hannah looked at me, and I could tell she was worried. This was an element of the election we had not been prepared for. If everything Savvy said about pledges was true, there was going to be a lot more to this process than we’d thought.
“Who else do you reckon is going to be nominated? Besides me, obviously. We all know I’m a shoo-in,” Savvy said, flipping her hair.
“No idea,” I said. “But you know Marion will have her handpicked candidate in the mix. If you ask me, that will be the person to beat.”
“And whoever she is can probably already count on a stack of these,” Milo said, gesturing to Savvy’s pledge.