by Sally Green
“She’s good at training them,” I say.
“Do you mean Greatorex?”
“That’s who we’re talking about, isn’t it?” And I don’t know why I snap at him.
“You should come into camp with me. Greatorex would like to see you.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” But we both know that means no.
It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Greatorex, or anyone other than Gabriel. In fact, the last people I saw apart from Gabriel were those two Hunters and I killed them. Now I think about it, I generally kill the people that I meet. Greatorex should be grateful that I keep away.
“She wants to show off her trainees to you. They’ve improved a lot.”
And I don’t know what to say to that. What should I say? “Oh?” “Good.” Or “Who the fuck cares ’cause it won’t make any difference to anything?”
I really don’t know what to say.
Then I think of something and I ask, “What day is it?”
Gabriel says, “You asked me that yesterday.”
“And?”
“I don’t know. I was going to ask Greatorex but I forgot.” He turns to me, asking, “Does it matter?”
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter at all what day it is except I’m trying to keep things clear in my head but each day seems like every other, and weeks have gone by but it could be months, and everything is merging in my memory. I need to concentrate and not lose track of things. I killed the two Hunters yesterday. Then I came back here, but already it feels like longer ago. I have to go back and check on the bodies. More Hunters will come looking for their pals. Maybe I’ll get a chance to catch one, question them. Maybe they’ll know something about Annalise. If she is a spy she’ll have gone back to Soul; maybe the Hunters will have seen her.
I lie back and put my arm over my face.
I’ve not told Gabriel about the two Hunters because he’ll tell Greatorex and she’ll move the camp and I need to check on the Hunters before then. But first I need to sleep. Since Marcus died I’ve not slept much. I need sleep, then I can go and check on the Hunters. Or maybe leave it another day. Tomorrow I can scout to the south. Check if there’s any sign of Annalise there, then come back here, then go to the Hunters’ bodies. I need to get some more food as well. So, south and rabbit traps tomorrow, and dead Hunters and hopefully some live ones too the day after.
I realize I’m staring at my arm; I’ve still got my eyes open. I have to remember to close my eyes. I’ve got to sleep.
* * *
We’re sitting close together, legs dangling over the outcrop. Leaves flutter down. Annalise’s tanned leg is close to mine. She reaches out for a falling leaf, grabbing it and my sleeve at the same time. She turns back to me, holding the leaf in front of my face, getting my attention, and she taps my nose with the leaf. Her eyes sparkle, the silver glints twisting quickly. Her skin is smooth and velvety and I want to touch her. I try to lean forward but I can’t move and I’m tied down on a bench and Wallend is standing over me, saying, “This may feel a little strange,” and he puts the metal against my neck, and then I’m kneeling in the forest and my father is on the ground in front of me bleeding out from his stomach. I’m holding the Fairborn and feeling it vibrate in my hand as if it’s alive and desperate to get on with the job. My right hand is holding Marcus’s shoulder, feeling his jacket. And my father says, “You can do it.” And we begin. The first cut is through his shirt and his flesh in one long stroke and then we cut across that, deeper. Then a third cut, deeper still, slicing through the ribs as if they’re paper. The blood covers Marcus’s skin and my hands, hot but cooling quickly. I put my fingers round his heart, and feel its beat as I lean forward. Bite. Blood spurts into my mouth. I’m gagging but I swallow. And I take another bite and look into my father’s eyes and he’s staring
* * *
I wake up coughing and puking and sweating. Gabriel shuffles over and holds me. And I hold on to him. And he doesn’t say anything, just holds me, and that’s good. We stay like that for a long time and eventually he says, “Can you tell me what happens in your dream?”
But I don’t want to think about it. And no way am I going to talk about it. Gabriel knows what I did, what I had to do to take my father’s Gifts. Gabriel saw me afterward, covered in blood, but at least he didn’t see me do it. He thinks that if I talk about it I might feel better but talking about it isn’t going to change a thing about what I did and all that will happen is he’ll know how disgusting it was and—
“Nathan, talk to me, please.”
And then he says, “It was a dream, wasn’t it? You would tell me if you’d had another vision, wouldn’t you?”
I push him away. I wish I hadn’t told him I’ve started having visions.
Practice
It’s morning. I’m running back to my camp. I’m not feeling too bad now. I’ve done a long run: a few hours in the dark straight after I woke from the dream and Gabriel started pestering me about visions. Running helps me. When I run I can concentrate on the forest, the trees, the ground, and I can think better. And I can practice my Gifts.
I go invisible. I’m best at that now, but I’ve had to work at it. I have to think of being transparent, of being air. Breathe in and let myself become like air. And once I’m invisible I can stay like that if I concentrate on my breathing.
I can shoot out lightning from my hands too. For that I need to clap my hands together, as if I’m striking stones together to create a spark. The first time that’s all it was, but now I can make long bolts of lightning that stretch for ten meters.
Sending flames from my mouth is the one I’ve learned most recently. I have to flick my tongue against the roof of my mouth and let out a breath. It’s not a deadly weapon and I can’t do flames while I’m thinking about air and being invisible. But it’s still a good Gift to have.
I practice my new Gifts every day, and every day I try to find the other Gifts my father had. He could move objects by the power of thought, change his appearance like Gabriel can, make plants grow or die, heal others, contort metal objects, and make cuts. All great Gifts but the best one was that he could stop time. I’m sure that I have all those Gifts too now. It makes sense that if I’ve got one from him then I’ve got them all, but I’ve not been able to find out how to access all of them. I saw how my father stopped time before he died and I’ve worked on that more than on the others but nothing’s happened. That’s the Gift I want most. What I’d do with that Gift! But I haven’t been able to find that. Of course the Gift I don’t want, the Gift of visions of the future, is the one that comes anyway, whether I like it or not.
Having visions is more of a curse than a Gift. Visions screwed up my life. Screwed up my relationship with my father, screwed up everything. I wonder how my life would have been different if he hadn’t had the vision that I’d kill him. I mean, it ended up coming true even though he avoided me for the first seventeen years of my life. So all that meant was that I spent my childhood without him, not knowing him, a prisoner of White Witches. Then when I escaped, when we were finally united, within months the vision came true. Without the vision I don’t think my father would have left me with Gran; he’d have wanted me with him. So, seventeen years of separation because of a vision. And weirder than that is the fact that I don’t think I could have done what I did if I didn’t know about the vision, if my father hadn’t told me he’d seen that I would eat his heart and take his Gifts.
Visions aren’t like dreams. For a start they only happen when I’m awake, and they come like a cloud moving overhead, bringing a chill feeling and turning things duller, and, even though I know what’s going to happen and that the vision is coming and I don’t want it, I’ve got about as much chance of stopping it as I have of stopping a cloud from blocking out the sun.
And, of course, once you’ve seen a vision you can’t unsee it, can’t forget it.
I�
��ve had my vision six or seven times now and there’s a bit more detail each time. In it I’m standing on the edge of a wood, trees behind me and a rolling meadow in front, and the sun is low in the sky. The light is golden and it’s all beautiful and peaceful and I turn to see Gabriel standing in the trees. He waves at me to come to him and I look back at the meadow one final time and then turn back to Gabriel and then I’m flying backward through the air.
That’s all I saw the first time I had the vision, and I told Gabriel about it. But since then I’ve seen more. There’s a dark figure walking away through the trees. And Gabriel has a gun in his hand. I fly backward through the air and it feels like I’m flying but then I land on my back, looking at sky and treetops, and the pain in my stomach hits me and I know I’ve been shot and then it goes black. And that’s the end of the vision.
I reckon it lasts about two minutes, tops, and I end up sweating and my stomach burning and cramping for real. I know the vision is important, otherwise I wouldn’t be having it, and, let’s face it, being shot is never a good thing, but I don’t understand it. Why is Gabriel beckoning me toward someone who is going to shoot me? And then comes the worst question of all, the one I try not to think about. Is it Gabriel who shoots me? But I know he wouldn’t ever do that—I know he loves me—so that shows you how fucked up visions are. You start believing them instead of what you know.
I arrive back in camp and drop down by the fire. I’m not sure why I’ve come back. I was going to run to the south and set traps for rabbits, but it’s only now I’m back at camp I remember that.
“You’ve been gone a long time. Were you lost?” Gabriel says, coming over to me.
Him and his bloody passwords.
I say, “You’ve got it wrong. You’re supposed to say, ‘You’ve been away a long time,’ and I’ve only been away a few hours so the whole thing is stupid.”
“I’m trying to keep to the spirit of it rather than word for word.”
“If I was a Hunter you’d be dead now anyway.”
“And you’re doing your best to make that seem preferable.”
I swear at him.
He shuffles his feet, scuffing the dirt up a little. I get out the Fairborn and my sharpening stone and set to work.
Gabriel crouches beside me and says, “Are you doing that for a reason?”
“Thought I’d take a look around. Check on stuff.”
“I thought you were going to set rabbit traps today.”
I look at him. “I’m feeling lucky. Might find some Hunters too.”
I know I said I’d do rabbits today and check on the Hunters tomorrow but I’ve changed my mind. I want to get back to the Hunters and see if more have turned up.
“We need food. You said you’d do the traps.”
“I’ll do them too.”
“Yes? Really? Or will you go off for days and leave me not knowing if you’re alive or dead?”
I carry on with the knife.
Gabriel reaches out to touch my arm. “Talk to me, Nathan. Please.”
I stop sharpening the knife and turn to look him in the eyes. “I told you. I’ll do both.”
Gabriel shakes his head at me. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“You know what’s going on, Gabriel. I’m trying to find the witch that killed my father. Though somehow she’s disappeared. The good thing is that, in my search for her, I’m finding Hunters. There’s a lot of them around. It’s a big country but I’m finding them and killing them.”
“Do you really think you can kill them all?”
It’s a genuine question, but I think it’s more to test my sanity rather than my ability.
I smile at him and try to look as mad as possible. “My father seemed to think I could.”
Gabriel shakes his head and turns away from me, saying, “Sometimes I think you’ve got a death wish.”
Sometimes I wonder that too, but it’s when I’m fighting that I’m absolutely sure I don’t. It’s then that I’m sure I’m desperate to stay alive.
Gabriel continues. “You risk your life with each attack. They can kill you, Nathan.”
“I go invisible. They don’t know I’m there until it’s too late.”
“You can still get hit. With bullets flying all over the place it’s a miracle that hasn’t happened. You nearly died from a Hunter bullet in Geneva. The poison nearly killed you. A wound—”
“I’m careful. And I’m better than them. Lots better.”
“They can become invisible too. They can still—”
“I told you I’m careful.”
Gabriel frowns. “It’s not just about you. Your attacks bring more Hunters our way, lead them closer to us and to Greatorex, bringing more danger for everyone.”
“Greatorex and her gang are training for that day, though as I recall the last two times we moved camp there was no confrontation and it’s just me who’s done any killing, just me who’s got blood on his hands. It’s as if that lot only want to train and hide away and—”
“You know that’s not true.”
“And it’s not true for me either.”
I run my finger along the Fairborn’s blade, drawing blood. I suck my finger and then heal the cut before I put the sharpening stone in my backpack and the Fairborn in its sheath.
“Nathan, another few Hunters dead won’t change the war. It won’t change anything.”
“Tell that to them as I slice their guts open.”
“You know as well as I do that most of them are kids. They’re manipulated into believing in Soul’s cause. The war isn’t against them; it’s against Soul. He runs the Council of White Witches; he employs Wallend to come up with his perverted magic. They are the people you should be fighting. They are the ones who started the war, and it’s only by killing them that it’ll end.”
“Well, I’ll get round to them soon enough. Think of these attacks as practice. When I’ve mastered all my father’s Gifts, then I’ll be ready to go against Soul.”
“And in the meantime you practice by killing kids.”
I go invisible, take the Fairborn from its sheath, and reappear with the tip of the knife at Gabriel’s throat.
“They’re Hunters, Gabriel. They’re working with Soul to hunt and kill us, but I intend to hunt and kill them. All of them if I have to. Young or old. New recruits or hardened veterans. They joined up. They made their choice and I’m making mine.”
Gabriel swipes at my arm, knocking the Fairborn away.
“Don’t point that thing at me. I’m not your enemy, Nathan.”
I swear at him.
“Is that all you’re good for?” Gabriel takes a step back onto the pile of fifty-two stones. “Swearing and killing?” He looks down at them, saying, “How many stones do you want in that pile, Nathan? You want a mountain of them?” Gabriel kicks at the stones with the side of his foot. “Will it make you feel better? Will it help you sleep at night?”
“Knowing there are a few less Hunters makes me feel better than knowing there are a few more. And as for helping me sleep at night, let’s face it, it can’t make things any worse.” I make sure I throw in every swear word I can come up with as well.
I pick up my backpack and Gabriel reaches out to hold my arm but I shake him off and head out of the camp at a fast jog. I don’t look back.
A Basic Trap
This time while I’m running I think of Annalise. I imagine I’m chasing after her, close on her tail. I can run for hours without stopping anyway but when I’m thinking of her time passes even faster. But I can’t think of Annalise too much. I’ve got to be strict with myself: I’ve got to concentrate on hunting Hunters. Gabriel’s right about one thing: it is dangerous and however good I am they could still get lucky. To keep luck on my side I have to keep improving. I’ve got to get even better, even faster, even stronger. I�
�ve got to work out where I’m weak. Celia taught me that. Learn from your mistakes but expect your enemies to learn from theirs. So every time I attack a group of Hunters I’m learning, improving the control of my new Gifts.
I have to keep practicing and I do that now as I run: going invisible; sending lightning from my left hand and then from my right; sending a plume of fire from my mouth. Up to now the only Gift from my father that I’ve used in a fight with the Hunters is invisibility, but even so, last time I was grazed by a bullet—I’ve not told Gabriel that. It took a few hours for me to drive the poison out where the bullet broke my skin. But I learned from the experience so Celia would be pleased. I was too slow. I stayed in the same place half a second too long. That won’t happen again. And now I’m ready to try using lightning while I’m invisible so I don’t have to get in close. It will give my position away so I must shoot it out and keep moving. I send out a flash from my left hand, then dive and roll to the right, sending out another flash from my right hand as I go.
Then I do it again. Faster and stronger.
And again.
I keep moving until it’s dark and then I camp by a stream, which means I stop and lie down. I’m hungry. I puked up the soup and cheese from last night and haven’t had anything else since. But before I can think about food I need to do one more thing: try stopping time again. I go over it in my head, remembering Marcus and how he moved his hands in a circle, rubbing his palms together. I try the same technique and I think of slowing things around me, think of everything coming to a stop. The forest is still and I hold my breath, wondering if I’ve done it. But I know I haven’t; the quality of stillness when time stops is different. I wish I could ask my father how to access this Gift. I wish I could ask him so many things. More than anything I wish we’d had more time together.