by D. J. McCune
Adam stared at her. He wanted to tell her everything. Just blurt it all out and slump to the ground and hope that she would pick him back up. He knew that he couldn’t. ‘What if they’re not my secrets to tell?’
‘But some of them are.’ She turned and faced him then. ‘Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know what you can do?’
Adam’s heart was beating faster. She had never seen him swoop, he was sure of it. And he had never mentioned Lumen or Lights or The Book of the Unknown Roads. ‘What do you think I can do?’
‘You can see when bad things are going to happen. And you try to stop them.’
Adam stared at her, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. It was the way she had said it; so simply, like it was nothing to be afraid of. Like it didn’t freak her out. He needed to laugh and tell her she was crazy. He could do it too but she was looking at him and her face was so calm and serious that he knew, somewhere deep in his heart, that if he lied to her now this would be the last conversation they would ever have. But if he told her too much, he was signing both their death warrants. He settled for saying nothing at all.
Melissa sighed. ‘Look, you knew my mum was sick without even meeting her. And that night when we went to Petrograd? And you took off somewhere? Michael Bulber told me that he had gone looking for some guy but you were there instead, like you’d warned the guy off. And then today your friend Spike cornered me. He started asking me all these questions about your family and then he told me you were able to see the future and know things like when earthquakes were going to happen. He told me to stay away from you.’
Adam’s mouth was dry. He knew he should deny it all but something wouldn’t let him do that. You will lose her. He swallowed and licked his lips. ‘And what did you say?’
Melissa met his eyes. Her voice was very quiet. ‘I told him that the only thing keeping me away from you was you.’
Adam cleared his throat and looked at the ground. ‘You said you wanted a boyfriend who did normal things.’ His voice sounded flat.
‘You are normal and you do lots of normal things.’ She smiled. ‘You just do some not-normal things too. But don’t lie to me. That’s the thing I hate, more than anything.’
‘I can’t see the future. But sometimes I know when something bad is going to happen or people are sick or they’re going to have an accident.’ His mouth was moving and words were falling out and it felt so good that he wanted to sink to his knees and wrap his arms around her waist and just close his eyes. ‘But I can’t control it. I can’t see lottery numbers or anything.’
She laughed. ‘That’s a shame. I thought that might be why you always seem to have money.’ Her face became serious. ‘But it’s more useful knowing when an earthquake is going to happen. Or knowing that my mum is sick. That’s amazing.’
‘Why are you not freaking out?’ Adam was watching her hard, waiting for her to turn and run, but she was just standing there, like everything was fine.
Melissa shrugged. ‘You’re not the only one who can do weird stuff. My friend in work can suss guys out as soon as she meets them. Like, she knows if they’re nice or horrible and she’s never wrong. She says she just knows. And my gran used to be able to find things people had lost, like their purse or their wedding ring or even someone in their family. They would go to her flat and she would tell them what she saw. She said she would just daydream and she would see water or a street sign or whether it was a dark place. She said it was like seeing a photo.’
‘Did it work?’ The scientist in Adam was sceptical – but then who was he to judge? He wouldn’t believe in himself if he’d heard someone on the street talking about Lumen.
‘Most of the time the people would come back to her and tell her they had found what they were searching for.’ Melissa stepped closer to him. ‘I’m not saying it’s the same thing as what you do. I’m just saying … some people are different. They can do things that other people can’t do but it doesn’t make them bad. Especially if they help people.’
‘I can’t talk about this stuff,’ Adam said, suddenly frightened. He couldn’t bear the thought of people staring at him in the corridors, whispering and pointing. ‘It doesn’t happen very often. And it’s not who I am. It’s not what I want to do with my life.’
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ Melissa said. She looked at her painting; the little cocoon they were sitting in. ‘I just thought it could be our secret, instead of yours. And then you wouldn’t have to lie to me all the time.’
Our secret. There was something about those words that made Adam feel happy and nervous at the same time. ‘Does that mean we can go out again?’
‘Are you allowed to go out with me? Are your parents letting you out of the prison house?’
‘Yes!’ Now that he had started he tried to keep telling her as much of the truth as he could. ‘It’s just … the work my father does. It’s kind of a family business. And they thought I was going to go into it too but I’ve told them I won’t because I want to do other things. So now they know and it’s OK. I don’t have to do as much any more. Sometimes, if it’s really busy, I might have to help out. But I can go out now. We can hang out.’
She was looking at him. ‘Is this for real?’
‘Yes.’ Adam put his arms around her and pulled her in against him. Some kind of elastic band inside him snapped and released the tension out of his body. It was the way she felt; the way she fitted in against him, warm and familiar. He kissed her hair, not quite daring to kiss her mouth yet. ‘I really want this to be right again. Things are going to be different, I promise.’
He didn’t know how things were going to work out. Whatever Spike thought, he couldn’t tell the future. He just knew that there was no one he liked spending time with more than Melissa – and they were going to be getting a lot more time together. He would make sure of it.
He just hoped she never wanted to go to Japan.
The sun was sinking low when Adam got off his bus home. The clocks had gone back. Summer was behind him and winter was approaching but for once he didn’t feel miserable about it. As he got close to the house he was overtaken by a luridly dressed runner, although this time she was wearing a hoodie rather than a singlet. ‘You snooze, you lose, Adam!’ she chortled and Adam grinned and ran after her.
Auntie Jo beat him easily and held her arms up in the air, dancing triumphantly for an imaginary crowd. ‘So, you lived to face another half-term.’
‘Yeah.’ Adam placed his palm on the scanner pad and they walked inside together.
Auntie Jo was quiet for a moment. ‘All that time, Adam.’ She stopped and waited for him to stop and face her. ‘You kept your secrets for all that time.’ When Adam shrugged, not sure what to say, she shook her head. ‘They could have killed you, you know. The Concilium. Don’t you ever put us through that again.’
‘I won’t.’ And he wouldn’t – just as long as he was able to leave the Luman world behind. Maybe he could learn to block his death sense as well as he could block his doom sense.
Auntie Jo was studying him. ‘Your father told me that you know about our brother. Lucian.’
It was the first time Auntie Jo had ever mentioned his name or even his existence. For months he had felt like he was lying to her, pretending not to know about his uncle. Now it seemed that everything was coming out into the open. ‘Yes.’
‘He was a good man.’ Her voice was low and fierce. ‘He was a good Luman too but he hated it, all of it. The deaths when he felt them … They hurt him, badly. Not just in his body but in his soul too.’
Adam nodded. He understood. That was how he felt every time he ignored his doom sense. Somehow he had learned to block it out and saved himself from going mad in the process. For Lucian, the pain of it had been too much. ‘I wish I could have met him.’
‘You are so like him, you know.’ Auntie Jo’s eyes were bright with unshed tears but her voice was steady. ‘He could be stubborn but he was kind too, j
ust as you are. I will never forget how you danced with Susanna at her Marking ball. You made me very proud that night. Proud of the man you’re becoming. Whatever happens and whatever people say over the months and years ahead, always remember that. You are a good man.’
Adam looked at the ground, feeling his cheeks burn at all this praise. It was strange hearing her call him a man when at school he was still a child – but he was Marked now. He was a man in the eyes of the Luman world and he would be treated as such. ‘Susanna would never have danced with me any other time.’ He grinned. ‘I got lucky.’
‘Luckier than you know,’ she said wryly. ‘Her father was the man who spared your life.’
‘Will Heinrich be OK?’ He hesitated. There was so much he wasn’t supposed to know. ‘I mean, I know he’s getting old and he won’t be around forever but will he still be Chief Curator?’
‘For now.’ Auntie Jo sighed. ‘He has his loyal supporters on the Concilium still, just as he has his opponents. Your Marking was rather divisive but in the end most of them didn’t really want to execute an unmarked teenager, even if a few felt that it would send a clear message.’
Adam didn’t have to ask who did want him executed. ‘And what about Susanna? Will they keep letting him Mark girls?’
‘That’s not as clear-cut. He did produce the texts from The Book of the Unknown Roads, so no one doubts that women were once Lumen. Sometimes people prefer to rewrite history for their own ends. They’ve been very successful over the last few thousand years. The wise girls are training now, as fast as they can, trying to get Marked while Heinrich is still Chief Curator. It’s surprising how many fathers were taking their daughters on call-outs on the sly. And more of them will get brave.’
‘Is Chloe going to be a Luman?’
‘I don’t think she knows what she wants yet. Certainly your parents would take some convincing but where others lead they may still follow. We had some visitors from Ireland today, while you were at school. One of them asked me to pass on her greetings.’
‘Caitlyn?’
‘Yes. Don’t ask me how but she’s persuaded Patrick to take her on some call-outs with him. Personally I think she’s nicer to the wolfhounds than she is to most people but …’ Auntie Jo shrugged. ‘She seems quite keen on you.’
Adam shook his head. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘Hmmmm. I thought there might be another betrothal on the cards.’
They started walking again. Adam was desperate to change the subject. ‘Do you think you’ll get Marked?’
Auntie Jo smiled. ‘I might do. I think I’d be a rather glamorous final vision for any soul, wouldn’t I?’ She waggled her eyebrows and Adam grinned. Her face changed and she looked more serious. ‘But I have a choice now, that’s the main thing. Being free to choose. It’s important. You know that better than anyone.’
Adam nodded, feeling his throat constrict. He still remembered Heinrich’s face as he stood above them all, about to present his daughter to the room; the terror and joy mingling together. He understood that feeling now. How powerful it was to be free. The privilege of it. The privilege of living a life you were choosing for yourself.
They had reached the back door. ‘So what will you do?’ Auntie Jo interrupted his thoughts. ‘Will you try to be a Luman, at least some of the time?’
‘I don’t know yet. I don’t think so.’ His voice was quiet. He thought about his family and the bonds that tied them together. And he thought too about school; about his friends and his classes and himself in a sixth form blazer. And of course Melissa. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t know how things would work out but at least he was free to give it his best shot.
He thought about the Tapestry of Lights, the souls moving in an endless, bewitching dance. Some were getting brighter; others were fading. Nothing stayed the same. But that was OK; that was how the future was made, a thread at a time; a decision at a time.
Auntie Jo opened the door into the kitchen and Adam heard familiar voices inside. Happiness washed over him, filling his chest with warmth. The world was changing, every day. Sometimes you could tear up the old rules and make new ones; better ones. Rules that made the whole world better.
He could be whoever he wanted to be. Anything was possible, if he wanted it enough; if he worked for it. Anything could happen.
Anything at all.
Acknowledgements
This bit never gets old. My thanks as ever to my lovely agent Gillie Russell and equally lovely editor Emily Thomas. Huge gratitude also to the wonderful team at Hot Key. It is a total pleasure and a privilege working with you all.
My thanks to Sperrin Integrated College, Magherafelt for continued support; the Flowerfield Writers for moving me and making me laugh in turn; the many wonderful teachers, librarians and pupils who have welcomed me into their schools across the UK; the booksellers who have generously given up their time to arrange events; the lovely staff in Portstewart and Coleraine Libraries who allowed me to set up camp for part of the first draft; and as ever the mighty PWA – Julie Agnew, Mandy Taggart and the inestimable Bernie McGill for wit, wine and enduring the crazy eye on more than one occasion.
Thanks to Dr Malachy Ó Néill and Dr David Barr (both University of Ulster) for the translations. Special thanks to Dr Shane Murphy (INGV) who talked me through the intricacies of tsunami warning systems. Thank you also to Kerry McLean, Maurice McAleese and all at BBC Radio Ulster, for easing me into the world of live radio. On a personal note, sincere thanks to Tom Delap, assisted by Linda Mairs, for expertise and kindness in equal measure.
Finally, thanks to my family, especially my parents Derek and Patricia McCune and my parents-in-law Michael and Gretta Murphy, my sister Claire, my brother Gareth and my aunt Joanie. Thank you also to my friends – we may be scattered all over the place but you’re often in my thoughts.
And the biggest thanks of all to my husband Colm and daughter Ellen. You’re the people who make me smile every day.
ALSO BY D.J. MCCUNE
Death & Co.
The Mortal Knife
D.J. McCune
D.J. McCune was born in Belfast and grew up in a seaside town just north of the city. As a child she liked making up stories and even wrote some down, including a thriller about a stolen wallaby.
D.J. McCune read Theology at Trinity College, Cambridge, but mostly just read lots of books. She lives in Northern Ireland with her husband and daughter – and two cats with seven legs between them.
FAULT LINES is the third book in the DEATH & CO. series.
If you’d like to know more you can find her at:
www.facebook.com/djmccuneauthor
http://debbiemccune.tumblr.com
Twitter @debbiemccune
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First published in Great Britain in 2015 by Hot Key Books
Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT
Text copyright © D.J. McCune 2015
Cover photos copyright © Samuel Pearson / Shutterstock / Tao Yuichi www.panoramio.com/photo/186063 2015
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-1-4714-0272-2
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