Sleight of Hand: Book Three: The Weir Chronicles

by Sue Duff

  “She wasn’t drugged like everyone else. But she took a massive jolt, worse than mine,” Joule said. “How could she just get up and run after them, after something like that?”

  “What is she talking about?” Marcus said.

  “We need to concentrate on our missing,” Dr. Mac said. “And sort out who might have perished. Your son included, Marcus.”

  “Saxon and Ian only mentioned Rayne and the fire,” Tara said.

  Marcus grunted. “One of them might have shyfted away with Patrick, while the other remained to confront her.”

  The Drion’s tone dripped with concern, not anger. Ian needed to wake up. He clawed to bring his consciousness to the surface, to let Marcus know that it was Jaered standing in the vortex, not his son, when it caught fire.

  “I need you to tell me everything that happened, from the moment that Ian shyfted to Africa, all the way to the part where I woke up on this floor!” Marcus roared. “And if I find out later that you leave anything out, I’ll see to it that you are reassigned where the sun don’t shine.”

  “You can’t—” Tara blurted.

  “I can, I will, and I’ll make it stick. I’ve had it up to here with this group taking on our enemies by themselves. The Heir is my responsibility, not yours. I can’t do my job with my hands tied and functioning most of the time in the dark!” Marcus’s voice came from next to the bed. “And someone better own up about Rayne and what she can do.”

  Ian stood still in the middle of the eastern vortex, staring at the burnt grass. Shudders ravaged his body, the price for breaking Dr. Mac’s Somex power over him and leaving the boost after everyone deserted his room.

  Marcus had brought in his troops to protect the grounds from further infiltration. Several stood guard at the field. The second Ian shyfted there, he commanded them to keep their distance and they took up positions at the tree line.

  He didn’t move from the vortex, as if he couldn’t bring himself to leave what, in the space between heartbeats, may have become Rayne’s gravesite. Saxon hadn’t budged from his resting spot. The wolf barely acknowledged Ian when he shyfted there.

  She’s not coming back, Ian channeled with clenched fists deep in his pockets. Saxon whimpered, then stood and shook as much of the rain from his thick coat as he could. Ian’s beloved companion leaned against his leg, ready to forgive what Ian could not.

  The Jeep pulled up. Tara found him. From what he could see through the windshield, she was alone. She killed the engine but sat in the car. He didn’t raise his face to her, unrepentant for leaving his boost and sneaking out of the mansion. She got out a few minutes later, then leaned against the Jeep and stood vigil at the edge of the field, giving him his space.

  The storm eased into a steady downpour. Too riddled with guilt to mourn, Mother Earth mourned for him.

  An idea struck and fired his thoughts into action. We’re going to find Patrick, he channeled. Whatever it takes.

  And make those bastards pay, Tara channeled. Promise me that much.

  Saxon snorted and nudged him. Ian set out, and headed for Tara as Saxon ran ahead. With each step, Ian’s anguish transformed into a fury that ignited his core, and the afterburn cleared his head.

  {26}

  Gwynn pressed at the top left corner, lower right, and lower left on the panel. The wall at the back of the narrow pantry popped open. She gestured for Rayne to enter what appeared to be a dark tunnel, then pushed the panel shut behind them. Gwynn grabbed something off a hook on the earthen wall. “Here, put this on,” she said.

  It covered Rayne like a cloak. Made of straw-like fibers, it smelled like mown grass and another odor that she didn’t recognize, but was quite pungent. “What is this?” she asked.

  “It’s made from a plant that grows in our fields,” Gwynn said. From the swish-like sound, the woman had tossed another cloak around her shoulders. “There’s no light, but I know the way. Stay close.”

  The cool tunnel sent a shiver across Rayne’s back. Back home, it was summer and had been unusually hot. Her clothing consisted of shorts and a thin, sleeveless shirt. Dirt kicked up at her feet and small pebbles got stuck in her sandals. The straw cloak didn’t offer much warmth.

  The series of twists and turns seemed to go on forever, and it felt as if they were gradually descending. Gwynn never hesitated whenever they reached a fork in their path, and remained silent as she navigated their trek. At one point, a sound came from the other side of the earthen wall.

  “Is that water?” Rayne asked.

  “We have a massive underground river system,” Gwynn said. She grabbed Rayne’s arm and stopped. “Are you doing okay? Am I going too fast for you?”

  “I’m okay,” Rayne said, but took a deep breath. “Where are we?”

  “Much of Thrae’s surface is uninhabitable, but over the past several decades, we’ve managed to create an underground home,” she said. “It’s not much farther.” Gwynn took Rayne’s hand and walked at a slower pace, as if they were two friends taking a stroll.

  “Angus said that I look like someone from Thrae. He called me a paral. Said people might stare,” Rayne said.

  Gwynn didn’t respond. “There are infinite combinations of genes in the universe. Two sister dimensions, like Earth and Thrae, narrow down that number. It is rare, but not impossible, for two individuals to share the same mix of genetics. They are often mirror images of each other. One might be left-handed, the other right.”

  “So the paral on Thrae is someone a lot like me?” Rayne asked.

  “Not a lot,” Gwynn said. “Identical, from the number of hair follicles, to your skin pigmentation, to many other genetic traits.”

  “What’s her name?” Rayne asked. She’d never had a sister, much less a sibling, and had always been fascinated at Tara and Mara being identical twins. “Can I meet her?”

  Gwynn slowed her steps, then stopped at a wide door. A dim light peered out from beneath. The moisture in the underground tunnel system made it slimy to the touch and from what she could tell, it looked to be thick planked.

  The woman knocked with rhythmic taps. Rayne listened but heard no return from the other side. A muted metallic scrape. A second later, the door opened silently and stood ajar as if it had opened itself. Gwynn hesitated.

  Rayne reached toward the door, but Gwynn grabbed her wrist. “Rayne, they will stare. Some might even attempt to touch you. There will be a great many whispers. Please, understand that your paral was loved by everyone.”

  “Was?” Rayne said.

  “Her name was Kyre. Aeros murdered her to punish Jaered.” Gwynn pushed the door open. “She was his wife.”

  A bright light blinded Rayne, and it took several seconds for her eyes to adjust.

  Gwynn led her into a massive underground cavern. Giant stalagmites rose from the uneven floor while stalactites hung from the ceiling overhead. An intense light as bright as the sun came from the center of the cavern. A column of what appeared to be pure energy pulsated in a rhythmic beat. It grew from the floor of the cavern and disappeared into the ceiling above. Rayne couldn’t tell how wide it was because the column had no clear edge to it, but she imagined the column holding up a skyscraper single-handedly.

  “Welcome,” Gwynn said under her breath. Rayne’s sight slowly recovered from the glare and she stood aghast at the number of people in the cavern. The rock ledges embedded in its curved walls looked to be painted with minerals in a palate of earth-toned colors. Bodies lined the ledges like books on a shelf. Others had settled on the floor of the cavern. Young, old, couples and their offspring, all gathered together.

  What must have been close to a hundred faces focused on Gwynn and Rayne.

  It was their silence that struck her. The only sounds in the enormous cavern came from intermittent drips of moisture falling from the cavern ceiling into pools scattered along the floor. Some pools looked to be deeper than others. The column of energy emitted a low hum, like a buzz from fluorescent lights.

  Gwyn
n closed the door behind them. A nearby man stepped up and helped her lift a heavy iron bar. They secured it across the door. She gestured for Rayne to sit on a nearby rock and then sat next to her. The woman grabbed Rayne’s hand and rested it in her lap.

  A horde of eyes stared at Rayne. Fingers pointed. Chins jutted her way. Many sat in stunned disbelief while others looked at her with sadness. A few tossed her disgruntled glares.

  Rayne didn’t know how to return the attention and dropped her gaze to her lap. Gwynn stroked her back like a mother reassuring a child. But Rayne was a stranger on a strange planet and no amount of comforting could change that.

  The longer Gwynn stroked Rayne’s back, the more her muscles unwound and her shoulders relaxed. She looked around the cavern where a hundred people had gathered and sat as still as mice. In spite of their collective calm, fear was palpable in their expressions.

  {27}

  Jaered focused on the ooze tickling his ear while forcing himself to climb out of the darkness. He made to swallow, but a parched mouth and throat had nothing to purge and the taste of smoke lingered. He shivered from intense cold. Familiar smells of chamomile, lavender, and calendula stroked memories, which in turn brought images of a life, long ago.

  He’d made it to Thrae, but what of Rayne? Had he protected her from the worst of the flames? Jaered fought to open his eyes, but the weights tugging at his lids made it a chore. Between blinks, he discovered a dimly lit room with a pulsating violet glow coming from beneath him.

  A shallow cough brought Angus’s disgruntled face into view, and the old doctor peered down at Jaered. Angus’s beard was peppered with more gray since Jaered had seen him last. “Don’t start,” Jaered said, but it came out raspy. “The girl.”

  The old doctor’s perturbed glare made Jaered feel right at home. “Shocked, confused, disoriented, but otherwise fine.” Angus said, and gave into a deep sigh. “Gwynn sounded the alarm. Everyone headed for the tunnels.” He put a couple of fingers to Jaered’s throat. “If we’re lucky, Aeros won’t have too many to choose from.”

  Jaered closed his eyes. In saving Rayne, he’d condemned someone else. “Please, protect her.”

  “Gwynn’s taken charge of that. Your sorry buttocks are my job.”

  A door banged open in the apartment beyond. A shout of Jaered’s name. The bedroom door opened.

  “Sophenna, you should be seeking refuge with the others,” Angus said.

  Jaered’s mother leaned over the vat. Relief brightened her face. A curtain of moisture filled her crystal blue eyes. She took Jaered’s hand and squeezed it tight. Angus’s goo squirted between their fingers. “Liem told me that they found you in the vortex room.” She pressed her palm on Jaered’s Seal and stilled. “Your core, it’s so weak. Liem said you were badly burned, but it doesn’t look that serious.”

  “You haven’t seen his backside.” Angus grunted.

  “You need to go with the others,” Jaered said. “Be safe.”

  “What more can he do to me, that hasn’t already been done?” She placed a gentle hand on Jaered’s cheek. “He finds more pleasure from hurting the ones I love.”

  The tender moment crumbled Jaered’s defenses that were keeping the emotions in check. They erupted, and he held his breath until the pain subsided. He’d lost Kyre and their unborn child at the hands of the monster that was his father. And then Aeros had, in turn, punished his mother for bearing a son he couldn’t command.

  “He brought someone through with him,” Angus whispered. “Gwynn will need help concealing her.”

  Jaered squeezed his mother’s hand. “Aeros will catch scent of her for sure,” he said. “Please, Mother, go and help Gwynn. Do it for me.”

  Tears moistened her cheeks. “There’s been no time,” she whimpered. “He’s seen to that.”

  “I’ve given him cause,” Jaered said without a lick of remorse.

  When she shook her head, her golden hair cascaded across one side of her face. “No, my beloved son, I am to blame. My crime has been everyone else’s to bear.”

  “Your only crime was rejecting a monster,” Angus said.

  “Mother, Eve’s plan. It worked,” Jaered hushed. Angus and Sophenna exchanged stunned glances. “The third Heir has risen.”

  “What of Ian?” Sophenna said.

  “Survived,” Jaered said. “He should be at full power. He just doesn’t know it, not yet.”

  “The triangle is complete,” Angus said and straightened his back. “Sophenna. Go, tell Gwynn the good news.”

  “Please.” Jaered let go of her hand. She gave him a lingering kiss on his forehead as her tears carved a path down his temple. “I love you more than there are stars in the universe,” she whispered.

  Jaered’s chest heaved, and he pushed the sorrow to the back of his thoughts. “And I you,” he said.

  His mother slowly backed up and turned—but froze.

  Aeros stood in the bedroom doorway. “Our son has been quite naughty, Sophenna.”

  “He didn’t defy your order,” she said. “He’s injured.”

  “Don’t waste your breath,” Jaered raised his voice, counting on sounding stronger than he felt. “When has reason ever mattered to him?”

  “You still don’t know when to keep your mouth shut,” Angus muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

  Aeros grabbed Sophenna by the arm. His father’s silver-gray hair was trimmed and smoothed back. Gone was his custom suit and tie. He had taken the time to dress in a polo shirt and khakis for his hunt. There was no need for weapons. “We must savor this family reunion!” he said with sickening exuberance. “It’s been two, no, three years?”

  “He was shyfting. There was a fire,” Angus said.

  “Silence!” Aeros roared. Unbridled fury darkened his eyes and flames appeared in his irises. Brilliant core blasts extinguished in his open palms as quickly as they had formed. He regained control. Jaered’s father strolled around the vat; his gaze never wavered from his son’s face. “You were banned,” he said in a steeled voice.

  “You caused the devastation that hit Northern California, didn’t you?” Jaered said. His father’s smug expression was answer enough. “You’ve been sending Earth’s Heir all over the globe, playing with him. I knew he’d go home, so I checked in on him,” Jaered said.

  “Why?” Aeros sneered. “Would you even care?”

  “I wanted to see if his measly powers had developed,” Jaered said.

  “How does that justify this insolence?” Aeros asked, as if more amused than curious.

  “During my exit, he caught up to me.” Jaered hesitated and looked at his mother. “He used a core blast.”

  “Ian, did this?” Sophenna whispered.

  “And ignited the methane that your power draws,” Aeros said under his breath.

  Jaered caught his blunder and chastised himself for sharing too much. “I tried to shyft home, but lost consciousness.”

  “We found him, barely alive,” Angus said.

  Aeros stopped pacing. He dipped his finger into the gel and brought it to his nose. “Who knows that Thrae’s Heir has returned?”

  “Just us.” Angus looked at Sophenna. “Not even Gwynn.”

  A snarl lifted the edge of Aeros’s lip. “You and an aging woman carried my son in here, Angus?”

  “You’ve always underestimated me,” Sophenna said. “Always.”

  Angus puffed up his chest. “As you underestimate the worlds you strive to dominate.”

  It was one thing for Jaered to talk that way to his father, but to hear Angus be so bold caused Jaered’s pulse to pound.

  “Seems I may have underestimated you, Doctor.” Aeros gave Angus a relaxed smile and waved his hand. Jaered’s father’s power gripped his core and lifted his body from the gel. Jaered winced as the thick solution sucked at his injured tissue before it broke free and he hovered over the vat.

  “Aeros, stop!” Sophenna shouted.

  Without breaking his gaze on Angus, Aeros flicke
d his fingers. Jaered flipped over and floated facedown, staring at the tub of iridescent gel. His mother pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle her shriek. Aeros looked at Jaered’s back. “It appears that this, is at least true.”

  Jaered clenched his jaw. His nostrils flared as the gel dripped down his sides and, with one plop after another, found their way back to the gel bath below. Exposed nerve endings sent searing needles coursing across his back, turning what skin was left into a jigsaw puzzle of unimaginable agony. He willed himself not to pass out, not to appear weak, anything to rob his father of the moment, and ease his mother’s heartache.

  Aeros walked around the vat, keeping Jaered suspended, relishing in his injuries. He hesitated when he reached the opposite side. “Were you alone?”

  “We only found him,” Angus said.

  The muscles bulged in his father’s jaw. “It’s time to go,” Aeros announced, as if they had just enjoyed a day at the park. “Say your good-byes, my dear. Who knows when you’ll see your son again.”

  “Jaered,” Sophenna said and reached toward him.

  A frigid blast. Air sucked out of Jaered’s lungs as Aeros shyfted them to a dim room. His father released the power over his core and Jaered dropped, facedown on the cement floor. He wailed and dragged an elbow to support himself then looked up. His father had shyfted them to the vortex storage room. The odor of his burnt flesh still lingered in the closed space.

  Aeros stood still and sniffed the air. “Such a pleasant bouquet. My little pyro Ning would have enjoyed it so.” He exhaled and brought a fist to his chest. “I do miss the old Thrae,” he said with contrived regret. “In spite of her showing her age, your mother is still a ravishing beauty in her own way.” He grabbed Jaered by the hair and lifted his head, then bent down and got in Jaered’s face. “I know you brought someone with you.” With a sneer, he gazed into Jaered’s eyes with seething hatred. “How do I repay such insolence?”

  A sonic boom deafened Jaered’s thoughts. Suffocating, he closed his eyes and gave into the void of the parashyft.