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Forgotten Destiny 5

Page 11

by Odette C. Bell


  I honestly knew she wasn’t in the room, but that couldn’t stop me from straightening up even further and getting a grim, determined look on my face. I even nodded.

  “The only men who believe in prophecy are those who think it will give them power. Everybody else will try to change the world. It is only those who wish to change you and control you that will appeal to legends long past.”

  I didn’t honestly think I could sit up any straighter, but I did. I also paled.

  “It is my belief that the Zero Prophecy is a fabrication,” Olivia stated flatly.

  And I… right about fell over.

  I could’ve had a steel beam lodged up my back, and it wouldn’t have mattered. I could’ve had a massive, heavy pair of hands weighing down my shoulders, and it still wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing could stop me from wobbling now.

  “The Zero Prophecy was nothing more than a fiction created by the Knights family to control the fate of Madison City and beyond.”

  “… That can’t be true,” I found myself saying. My voice shook. And as it shook, my mind was brought back to the vision. As I stood on that parapet, as the wind swept my skirts around my legs, and more than anything, as chaos pressed down from above. That couldn’t have been faked. Goddammit, that couldn’t have been faked.

  “Peter Mercure is the estranged brother of Paul Knights,” Olivia suddenly revealed.

  “What?” I screamed at the room. I didn’t give a hoot about keeping my voice down anymore.

  I knelt there in complete and utter shock.

  “Peter knew too much about the Knights family tradition. He understood the lengths Paul Knights went to to manipulate the fate of Madison City and all those within it.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” My voice shook so hard, I thought I was about to burst into tears. And hey, maybe I was. Because my mind could not be torn from one fact – from one name, from one man.

  Max Knights.

  “I found out the hard way,” Olivia said, her voice shaking.

  “Oh God, you can’t be talking about Max, can you?”

  “My own fiancé – Max Knights – believed in the Zero Prophecy more than anyone else. He actually thinks he’s the finder at the heart of the legend.”

  I brought a hand up and clamped it so hard over my mouth, I left indents in my lips.

  I breathed and breathed, but it didn’t matter – I couldn’t push away the terror of the situation.

  “While there’s no such thing as the Zero Prophecy, the hidden sets do exist. They are ancient spell books. And Paul Knights, through his efforts as the Director of Internal Affairs, has been procuring them and holding onto them most of his life. Internal Affairs has five that I know of at last count. I imagine it won’t take long for them to procure the sixth.”

  “Dear God, what does any of this mean?” I choked through my words.

  “There is, however, a seventh set. One they cannot procure. For it has to be made. It is this seventh set that they are ultimately after. The other sets, though powerful, will be ultimately irrelevant, for this set will truly have the ability to alter dreams, thus handing the Knights family all the power they have ever sought.”

  I finally gave up on shaking my head.

  I just sat there, my hand still pressed against my lips but my grip week and my shoulders shaking as if somebody was crying against me.

  Or maybe that was just me. It wasn’t just all the emotional energy I’d poured into the Zero Prophecy, into Jason, into Max. Only to find out….

  I tried to squeeze my eyes closed. I even thought of sending a charge of magic into the archive box to obliterate it and hopefully stop Olivia’s voice.

  I stopped myself. Because I reminded myself of one fact. When I’d told Max that the most important thing to me was the truth, I’d meant it. And when I’d told Max that the sole principle by which I led my life and used my finding powers was to find the truth, I hadn’t frigging lied.

  So I forced my eyes open, and I listened.

  “Though vision magic is possible with certain spells and drugs, the seventh set will give the wielder the ability to directly change the hearts and minds of people. It is the seventh set that is truly frightening. And though the Zero Prophecy is nothing more than a fiction, if it were true, it is the seventh set it would speak of. For there is a reason that the ancients hid the seventh set. The other six sets become ultimately irrelevant if you have the power to directly affect what one thinks is possible.”

  That statement rammed into me, almost pushing me off my knees and back into the shelf. It reminded me of the conclusion I’d come to when I’d knelt over Max’s comatose body in the drawing room.

  Opportunity magic was nothing more than the ability to remove people’s free will.

  And it seemed that this seventh set took that a step further.

  But then I suddenly shook my head.

  Wait… this didn’t make sense, did it? Jason already had the seventh set, didn’t he? And if he did have the seventh set, he would’ve used it against me already, wouldn’t he?

  “The seventh set cannot be found – it must be created. It will take a sorcerer of complete skill to do so. Paul Knights trained his son, Jason, his entire life to fulfill this task, but Jason could not come close. Nor could Elsa Knights – Max’s mother. So the Knights family set about finding another. This was the goal of their Zero Prophecy. Call it little more than an advert – one designed to lure a sorcerer with sufficient skill into their clutches.”

  “This is insane. This is utterly insane,” I kept telling myself, now clamping my hand over my mouth with such force, I felt my teeth grate into my lips.

  But I wouldn’t loosen my grip. I couldn’t.

  … Max.

  Had he known all of this? Had everything been fake?

  My stomach lurched to the side. I’d been about to tell myself that you couldn’t fake visions, but then I remembered what Olivia had said. With certain spells and, importantly, certain drugs, you could fake anything.

  I almost gagged. A memory of Smythe forcing that D 20 pill into my mouth shot into my mind.

  It wasn’t long after that pill that I’d had my vision.

  … Could it have been… nothing more than a freaking fabrication?

  I… didn’t think I’d ever felt like this in my life. For I’d never had reason to feel like this. It was a strange mix of utter betrayal and yet utter despair at the fact I could do nothing about this. Then, somewhere deep within my heart, was just a flicker of suspicion. One that told me I could still trust Max.

  That flicker couldn’t last.

  Because I would not push away the truth.

  I found myself standing.

  I stared down at the box, my cheeks slack. “What the hell do I do now?” I said, voice shaking.

  “I do not know who will find this symbol. I don’t know if you’ll be on my side, or if you’ll be another one of Peter’s agents. I assume by now that I’ll be dead or I’ll have been captured. I ask this. Even if you are one of Peter’s agents, I ask you to help. If there’s anyone who can take down the Knights family, it’s Peter. He has enough evidence to completely rip apart Internal Affairs, pulling out those still loyal to Paul Knights’ memory.”

  “I don’t get it? Both Max and Jason…” I trailed off, as there was no reason to voice my concerns out loud. In my head, however, they reverberated. Olivia kept referring to the Knights family, but Elsa and Paul were dead, leaving Max and Jason behind. But if both boys believed in the Zero Prophecy their parents had created, then how could they use the seventh set for power?

  “It is my belief that Paul Knights’ death was only a technicality. He died attempting to find the seventh set without the full help of the other six.”

  The word technicality rang in my ears as I became as cold and rigid as a shard of ice.

  “I believe he has cast some kind of spell, and he believes that with the help of the seventh, it will bring his dead memory alive once mor
e. By forcing his sons to believe in the prophecy, he will force them to find it, and when they do—”

  “Paul will come back,” I spoke over her, my lips shaking.

  “Paul can’t be allowed to return. He will wield the seventh set to control everyone and everything. So you must stop him,” Olivia pleaded, her voice shaking. “And to do that, you must use the information Peter has. He won’t give it freely. He too seeks the seventh set. Paul would have dealt with him earlier, were it not for the fact he had far too much evidence on Paul’s ultimate plans. So I entreat you to find that evidence. Make it public. Pull down Paul’s memory and Internal Affairs. Save Madison City. Do what you will with the hidden sets. Save them and use them to bolster your magic if you must, or destroy them if you would prefer. But whatever happens, prevent the seventh set from being found. And if it is found, destroy it,” she said, her voice arcing out and punching with power.

  I knelt there, completely undone. I felt like a tapestry that someone had spent the last several minutes hacking at with knives.

  My arms were like jelly by my sides, and I could barely lift my head up.

  Nothing made sense. Nothing at all. Everybody I thought I could trust in this city had turned on me.

  Except maybe Josh, my mind suddenly threw out that possibility. Then instantly it pushed it away. Because Josh had such a close relationship with Max. He lived in his frigging house, for God’s sake. But Josh had been suspicious of Max to begin with, right? He’d tried to keep me out of Max’s clutches….

  Even as I thought that – even as I described Max’s embrace as a clutch – I shook my head. It felt so wrong. The memory of our kiss – not the one from the past, but the real one in the drawing room – came slamming back into my head. More than anywhere, it centered on my mouth, feeling like the most reliable pressure in the world, feeling like the only real damn thing left in my life.

  Just before I could bring a hand up, latch it on my lips, and touch them tenderly to lock in that sensation, I forced my hand to drop.

  I took a staggering step forward.

  I… had to move, didn’t I? Though I could stay here wallowing in self-pity, that would achieve nothing.

  I… had to figure out if this was true.

  So finally I knelt down, packed up the contents of the file, and pushed it into the archive box.

  I stared at it. I waited for Olivia to say more – to reveal where she was. It was clear that the recording had finished.

  Once I’d pushed the file into the box, I concentrated, and even though it was probably dangerous considering the amount of magic that had already been in use in both the file and the cardboard, I still attempted to compress them as I pushed them into my magical pocket. It was a little hard, and some seriously strange noises were made, almost as if someone were plunging a blocked drain. But eventually, I managed to cram the file box into my pocket.

  Then I stood there and shook. I felt as cold as an ice-capped mountain.

  I felt betrayed. I felt alone. And I felt like I had no idea what to do.

  But just as that last thought wheedled into my mind, I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head. For I was wrong. I knew exactly what to do.

  It was time to find out the full truth.

  I took a solid step forward. And that would be when I heard the door to the archive room opening.

  Chapter 8

  I froze.

  My eyes blasted wide as I heard rapid footfall.

  I’d dumped the original contents of the archive box on the floor, and they were still there.

  Someone was coming my way quickly, obviously attracted by the noises I was making, but I still had time.

  With jerking, quick, but somehow quiet movements, I got down on my knee, grabbed up all the files, and crammed them into my pocket. I didn’t need them, but it was preferable to them being out on display for everyone to see. Then I quickly turned around behind me and shifted the archive boxes around, aligning them so it looked as if one wasn’t missing.

  Then, finally? Just before the footsteps could reach me? I concentrated on illusionist magic. Without even having to close my eyes, I managed to make myself invisible.

  Somebody rounded the corner and pushed toward me. It was Barney.

  I recognized the sound of his enormous keyring jiggling at his side.

  He had a torch in his hand, and he sliced it this way and that.

  As it cut through me, he didn’t jerk with surprise, go for the gun in his holster, and attempt to shoot me. I’d already been shot today, and even though I’d managed to seal the bullet wound with magic, I really didn’t need to get any more injured.

  He didn’t do a damn thing, though.

  He just looked confused, scratched his head, and let his torch drop as his phone rang.

  He answered it quickly.

  “Did you find anything?” a gruff voice spat.

  It took me a moment, then I realized who it was. Peter.

  “There’s nothing. The place is empty.” Barney whirled on the spot, pushing his torch this way and that. The beam cut across the shelves, but illuminated nothing suspicious.

  I stayed exactly where I was, not making a damn sound but staring at Barney with cold, pressed lips.

  Inside? Oh, inside I still fell apart. Inside, my body still battled with the truth of this situation. More than anything, it battled with my feelings for Max. Feelings I’d allowed to grow. But feelings that, quite possibly, might turn out to be nothing more than manipulation.

  “I thought you said that the archive room sensors registered movement?” Peter snapped.

  “They did.”

  “Then she is still out there. Olivia, that bitch, must’ve left something in the archive room, and that finder is searching for it.”

  “I don’t see anything. I don’t hear anything. Maybe it was a rat? They can affect the sensors.”

  Barney wanted a rat? Barney would get a rat.

  I closed my eyes, and I concentrated. This time I didn’t concentrate on a TV remote. This time I didn’t have Max’s warm grip on my shoulder to tell me what to create. This time? I forced my magic into the task of creating a little, squeaking, scampering rodent, and the next thing I knew, I managed it.

  From behind Barney, a rat came scuttling out of cover. It stopped a meter in front of him, then ran off.

  “It’s a rat!” Barney managed as he jerked toward it.

  I ensured the rat was much faster than him, and it was out of sight before Barney could do a thing.

  I heard Peter spit and swear like a sailor. “You called me for this?” he growled.

  “I’m sorry – I just thought—”

  “Next time don’t think. Be sure.”

  “I—”

  “I do not need your useless apologies. But there is something I do need,” Peter’s voice dropped.

  I watched Barney pale. He didn’t attempt to control his emotions – there was no point. He didn’t know anyone else was in the room with him.

  He closed his eyes, and I actually saw tears glistening at their corners. “What?” he forced himself to say in a strong voice.

  “I need you to bring me another case file.”

  “… You want me to bring you a case file?” Barney said, his voice artificially controlled.

  “Now is not the time to grow a set of morals. You gave those up when I got you out of your financial troubles. Now, follow my orders,” Peter snapped.

  Barney made a fist. Then he turned around and followed Peter’s orders. He eventually found the right case file and tucked it under his arm.

  “Bring that to me.”

  “Where are you, sir?”

  “In the Justice Department. Fifth floor.”

  “What are you doing there, sir?”

  “Making a deal,” Peter said, and I swore that even though I couldn’t see his face, his lips would be curled into an immense smile. “When the Internal Affairs’ ploy doesn’t work, and the dust settles, it will be time for a new kin
g to take hold of this city. I will look favorably upon you if you get me that file quickly.”

  Barney’s mouth opened, and judging solely by the terrified look in his eyes, I could tell he wanted to point out to Peter that he couldn’t leave his post. Then Barney’s shoulders sagged. I saw an unquestionably defeated look glinting in his eyes.

  He pivoted on his foot, the sound of his rubber-soled shoes almost morose as it echoed through the room. “I will bring it to you immediately, sir. But how will I get past the blockades?”

  “I will tell you which blockades to go through. I still have my fans in the Army,” he said simply.

  Barney nodded, pulled a pad of paper from his pocket, and started jotting things down.

  Once Peter was done, he didn’t even say goodbye. He hung up.

  For several seconds, Barney stood there, looking defeated. Then, finally, he walked away.

  And me?

  I followed.

  The truth, you see, was finally ready to be found.

  Chapter 9

  I followed Barney, always close by him so that when he came to a blockade, it was easy enough for me to walk through. I always kept myself in check and used my magic to silence my footfall and breath.

  I should have been a mess. Maybe I should’ve even been crying. I wasn’t. I was… I didn’t want to use the term dead on the inside. I’d seen too many men in this world who were truly dead on the inside, from Barney to Josh to the goons I’d met in the Cruze Gang.

  Those men who’d truly had every single thing taken from them.

  Me? Though it would be tempting to believe I’d had it all taken from me, that wasn’t true. I still had one critically important thing.

  My ability to find the truth.

  I held onto it with two hands and the grip of a woman who would never let go.

  We reached the Justice Department. Though it was surrounded by military protection, Barney followed Peter’s rules, only attempting to enter from one point. The soldiers arming the blockade had obviously already been warned, and they let Barney in without any question.

  Seeing the city streets in military lockdown was terrifying.

  It reminded me of how horribly real this situation was – not that, of course, I needed a reminder. But it hammered home just how many people were being affected.

 

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