Brianna couldn’t help but smile at the turn her sister had taken, but it was only half-hearted, because her answer was too real. “We get ready to fight, because the shadows are coming for us. For the Seven.”
Emily kicked the toe of her shoe around the leg of a low table, drawing it close to sit in front of her sister. “Great. I guess if I’m going to be a shadow, now’s as good a time as any.”
Chapter Twelve
Aern
“That is so weird.”
Aern laughed, watching as Emily marveled over the heat radiating from her palm. Her power had begun working almost immediately, and they’d left Brianna alone to recover before she started another round. Emily had been practicing ever since.
“Is it taxing you yet?” he asked.
She considered that, shook her head. “Doesn’t seem to be. I think Brianna must just be working harder than the rest of us.” She pursed her lips. “This is going to take her a while.”
She was right; building a force formidable enough to fight the shadows wasn’t going to be quick. Seth would be next, and Eric. Ellin if she felt up to it. Brianna was going to start with the team leaders, the strongest soldiers, and make as many connections as possible before the men from her visions came. But they still hadn’t found Brendan, and Aern couldn’t help but scour the maps and ledgers once more.
Emily shifted in her chair, the paperwork on Aern’s desk fluttering at the edges before a breeze flipped it into the air. He slapped a hand over the pages, catching all but one before they blew onto the floor. “Maybe you should practice that one over there.”
She glanced doubtfully toward the corner of the room, a shelf of ancient books and documents, some sort of bronze sculpture. “That stuff looks expensive.”
“I would imagine,” Aern said. The Council interiors hadn’t changed much through the last few years. Morgan’s focus, and now Aern’s, had been on the constantly transforming security needs and system upgrades. While Brendan might have been busy procuring art for the Division houses, Council’s only concern was keeping their leaders safe. Not that Brendan hadn’t had ample security, just not at the level of Council. Aern ran a hand over his jaw, knowing that none of it would be enough for what was coming. No amount of prevention would have averted the Westlake property from being reduced to ash.
“How strong do you think you can make it?” he asked.
“In here?” She quirked a brow, surveyed the room again. “I think I could do some major damage, to be honest.”
“I’m thinking of Westlake,” Aern explained. “How many of them do you suppose it took to torch all of that metal and stone?”
Emily glanced at her palms, plainly still not certain she could believe what she was creating with them. “I don’t know, Aern. I mean, I’ve only had this for a few hours. And look …” She pushed a flame to one of the papers on his desk and it lit, burning an irregular corner before he had a chance to smack it out. She wrinkled her nose. “That wasn’t important, was it?”
“But you were only the source of ignition here,” he said. “The amount of heat required to melt steel, how long could you sustain that?”
She leaned forward, planting her heels to the side. “Logan did it.”
He fought a smile at the sudden defense of her skill. “So it’s possible we’re only dealing with one, maybe two shadows for that kind of destruction.”
She sat back, flexing her palm as if it were a strange, new thing. “It does seem possible.” Her eyes met his, as she remembered. “Look what you did to a room full of Morgan’s men.”
He had used the sway on several dozen soldiers at once—convinced them they were no longer loyal to Morgan—and that was what worried him. If the shadows were so much stronger, if one of them could do that much damage, then what were they in for when a band of them showed up to fight the Seven?
“Toast,” Emily said.
Aern looked up at her, torn from his thoughts. “What?”
“Toast,” she repeated. “I could make toast. With. My. Hands.”
He blinked, unsure of the proper response, and then caught sight of movement in the hall. Emily straightened, turning just as the messenger shot through the door. “We’ve got a hit on Brendan.”
Aern stood, slowing only to grab a jacket from its hook on the wall, Emily close behind. They were three steps down the corridor when he felt her doubt, the tug that said she wasn’t sure.
He stopped, looked back. “What is it?”
“Brianna,” she said. “She didn’t want us there, because of her vision.”
Emily had been furious when her sister left them in the dark, but now that it was her decision, she trusted Brianna’s advice. Aern nodded. “We’ll find her first.”
Emily’s head tilted to the side, peering around him, and she raised a finger to point to the end of the corridor. To Brianna, who was already there, Logan in tow.
“It has to be us,” Brianna said. “You stay here and explain to the others, let them know what we plan to do, how we’ll change them. Eric, Wesley, Seth, Ellin. All of them.”
“Kara?” Aern asked.
Brianna nodded solemnly. “We’ll need everyone.”
Aern had been moving toward them, finally laying a hand on Brianna’s arm, eyes going from her to Logan when he said, “Stay safe.”
“We’ll come back,” Logan answered. His arm went around Brianna’s waist. “And this time, we’ll have Brendan.”
Chapter Thirteen
Shadows
“The Samuels boy is dead,” Callan said. “I’ve wiped his memories and left him in a pool of his own blood.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Even if his heart did still beat, everything that had made him Brendan was gone.
“And what of the girl?” the shadow asked. “All of your resources and you’re still no closer to finding out what she’s hiding?” He shook his head.
“If you were to allow me to move now…” Callan offered, but the look on the older shadow’s face cut him short. It was not anger, not annoyance; this warning was more dangerous, because all expression, all interest fell from his face. There was nothing left but darkness. Callan glanced down, an apology, or at least an act of submission, before returning his gaze to the shadow. “The prophets have been unable to call it into view. Perhaps if we bring in someone from their current Council, someone close to the Archer boy—”
“He is no boy,” the shadow said. “You have seen what his kind is capable of.”
Callan paced his breathing, forced the tightness in his jaw to relax. He’d been close to Brianna, near enough to touch, but he still had to play their games. “Your suggestion?”
His tone irritated the shadow, and Callan felt the skin of his arms prickle, sensed the change in the air, a gathering of power. The shadow stood, facing Callan at his full height, and said, “I suggest”—he let the words linger, the sensations permeate Callan’s skin, invade something deeper within in him, before finishing—“you find her secret.”
Callan dipped his head in a nod, struggling to stay still. It was too much power, too overwhelming to endure. This man, the shadow, could crush his chest from the inside, with no more than a breath. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Go,” the shadow said. “Next time, bring me something of import.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brianna
“Do you realize how much planning went into this?” Brianna glanced at Aern, he and Emily standing in uneasy postures across the table from where she sat with Logan. “He would have had to think this through for who knows how long, deciding, without question, that anyone but me coming to find Brendan would result in their death. Simply so he could push that other vision, that false lead to get me alone.” She dragged a hand across the polished mahogany tabletop, turning her palm up when it neared the edge. “Why? Just so he could tell me it was them, that they were the ones who bound us?”
It didn’t make sense. None of it was playing out the way it should have. If that m
an—the one her nightmares were warning her of—was looking out for her, then why did her very instincts scream run?
“Bri,” Emily said. “What happened?” She would know it wasn’t merely the sight of Brendan’s mangled body that had her sister shaken. Brianna had lived her whole life with visions just as deadly, images of people closer to her than Brendan, torn and mangled, and it wasn’t a small thing to make her tremble like this.
Brianna swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing her gaze to meet her sister’s. “It’s like I can feel it,” she said. “Like he wants me to know this was a gift.” Logan slid his hand into Brianna’s under the table, fingers lacing tightly with hers. The words made her stomach turn. “Like giving me Brendan means I owe him.” She closed her eyes for a long, horrible moment. “And I’ve seen what Brendan is now, seen what’s left of him.”
Aern and Emily stared, uncertain, but Brianna couldn’t go on. Logan explained, “Apparently, this shadow has a talent for more than just sway. What Brianna sees is that when Brendan wakes up, everything we’ve known of him will be gone. He will be like a shell.”
Emily rocked back. “How is that even possible?”
Aern sighed, shaking his head. “It can be done. I don’t know if any of the Seven could have achieved something so complete aside from Morgan, but even before, both of us could erase small bits of memory here and there. Make someone forget a face, lose a few seconds in time.”
Emily looked at him. “Can you get it back? Is there some way to reverse it, like you did with Morgan’s men?” But that wasn’t how it had worked with Morgan’s men. Aern had had to replace their direction with a new one; to supersede their orders.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Emily. I don’t think this is something any of us can do.” His expression held an apology, but he would tell her the truth. “Honestly, the way it works, I doubt it’s possible even this shadow could help him recover.”
Emily’s gaze fell to Brianna, just as her sister’s eyes opened. Brianna had seen what the future held for Brendan, and it wasn’t recovery.
Emily slumped into a chair. Death, fire, destruction, these were the things she expected they’d have to face. But she wasn’t sure what to do with the helplessness, the waiting. “I’m sorry,” she said to the room. “I know he was your friend.”
Brianna’s hand tightened in Logan’s, and she looked to Aern. “How did the meeting with the others go?”
Aern’s expression wasn’t a wince exactly, but not far from it. “There were mixed reactions. A few adamantly opposed and several perhaps too eager, but they understand what’s at stake. They trust you, Brianna.” He lifted one shoulder. “And then your sister whipped out her fire and pretty much destroyed any chance we had at peaceful debate.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “It was a waste of time. It’s not like we have a choice in the matter.”
She muttered something about brain-eating, fire-breathing bad guys, and Aern said, “Seth and Eric are in the command room, Wesley was headed to the library.”
Brianna pushed away from the table to stand. “I’ll go to them. Someone needs to tell Kara and Ellin about Brendan privately. They won’t take it as well as the others.” Aern dipped his chin, assuring her it would be handled delicately, and Brianna noticed that he’d worn a button-down shirt for his meeting with the others, though the sleeves were now rolled up to reveal his forearms. She glanced at Emily. Same white cotton top and sneakers; Emily didn’t know when the fight would come, but she intended to be ready. Brianna offered, “Seth is going to be able to move water. Maybe that’s something you might practice with next.”
Emily blinked, clearly uncertain whether the recommendation was simply a casual suggestion or specific advice based on a vision. The idea that it might have been the latter gave her a visible chill, but she stood, grateful to have a new task. “Water.”
Brianna could tell her sister was considering where she could find the largest body of water as they walked toward the door, so she added, “Start small. Think rubber duckies, not shrimp boats.”
“I was thinking ‘indoor pool’,” Emily said.
The look she gave Aern was entirely sincere, and Brianna couldn’t help but smile at them over her shoulder. “Whatever works.”
***
Eric was first. He might have had a few problems with trusting them, with following without question, but he was a strong fighter. Brianna hadn’t seen issue with using him in her visions, only the certainty that he’d die if they didn’t.
“You won’t feel anything,” she explained. “Not until it’s there. It will be just like your other power, the same connection you have to the sway. Instinctually, you’ll know how to use it.”
Eric nodded, seeming smaller where he sat across from her chair, and she remembered the way he’d fought with Aern, how massive he’d appeared when they were brawling through the hallway. That image—the very idea that Aern had distrusted him so much alone with Emily—prompted her to add, “You are receiving this gift in order to help preserve the Seven Lines. I want you to know, Eric, that it can be taken away.”
He stared at her for a moment, evidently unsure whether he was being warned or if this was all part of the standard procedure. “Yes,” he said. “I understand.”
She reached for his hands, taking comfort in the fact that Logan waited silently near the back wall. The room was otherwise empty, a small office off the main command room with no more than a table and two chairs. Aern had discussed with the others what Brianna would do, and word of their plan had gone through the ranks, but they weren’t exactly advertising which of the Division and Council men were being changed first. It wasn’t safe. Any of the others could be a plant. A shadow. All it would take was one whisper, one indication of what they were planning to do to set off a change in the futures that Brianna had seen, to cause them to lose the only chance they had left.
She didn’t close her eyes this time. She was finding the connections quicker, the repair becoming easier. It might have been the only improvement, though, because she still felt drained afterward. It seemed like she’d been slogging through mud for weeks, sleeping in fits throughout the day and night. And the dreams weren’t helping.
She wished again that she could see what her mother had seen, could know the right paths to choose. The irony in having the incredible gift of seeing the future, of knowing what might come, and instead worrying about the past was not lost on her, but she couldn’t help but wonder why so many people were struggling to control what was happening now. What in their visions had seemed so much worse than the images she was getting, the death and war and the destruction of the entirety of the Seven Lines? Or had the Seven Lines even mattered to the shadows when things had been set into motion so long ago? Had something changed in the thousands of years since their power was removed, something that she and Emily might be able to transform? Or was it simply another prophecy, as the dark-haired man had warned her of, the idea of them being able to change the future, of her and her sister being somehow important enough to warrant the conflict? There were other things that felt like they were missing, the unexplained and the too unusual to be coincidence. She understood the balance of power between the two of them, could see the futures where one failed to survive. And yet she could still not place the importance of herself and her sister to the shadows.
“There,” she said, finally releasing Eric’s grip. “You may want to rest, but the power will be there soon enough. You’ll need to practice, to use it so that you can get stronger, fully understand how it operates. And be careful, Eric.” He glanced up at her, struggling to tear his gaze from the palms of his hands where he twisted them into the light. They would feel different, he would feel different. “It might seem as though you can take on the world, like you’ve got a power no one can withstand.” She touched his forearm, willing him to not simply listen, but to understand. “But the shadows are stronger than you. They will always win.”
The wonder fell from
his expression, and he said, “What?” He glanced at Logan, back to Brianna. “Then why are we fighting?”
She pushed up from her chair, staring down at Eric with intensity, a solemnness that could not deny the gravity of their situation. “Because we have no other choice.”
She left him to feel out his new power, but Brianna wasn’t settled by simply having another of the Seven to aid in their fight. She wanted to understand, to make the right choice. This wasn’t something she could do over; there was no going back to change whatever outcome her decisions brought.
She stopped midway down the corridor and turned to Logan. “I want to see Morgan.”
Taken aback, he stared at her for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. Brianna returned his gaze. She was a shadow, a prophet, the person who would have to call all of the shots from here on out, and Logan’s protest fell silent. His eyes dropped for another long moment, and then he signaled to the man at the end of the corridor. “We’re going to Alpha Base. Sweep the room.”
“Alpha Base?” she asked.
“Our channels are secure, but you can never be too careful,” Logan replied. He gestured toward the now empty corridor. “Shall we?”
They approached the room just as Logan’s men stepped out and gave the all-clear. When they took their posts at the end of the hallway, Brianna said, “They work well together.” Logan nodded, watching her instead of the four of his six men who were posted in sight, and she leaned closer to whisper, “Do you trust them?”
He didn’t answer right away, understanding that she hadn’t meant the question lightly. Despite the pause, Brianna knew his response was as certain as any.
“With my life.”
She dipped her head. “Right then, I think they should be next. After Wesley and Kara.” She glanced at the door. “This should only take a few minutes. And then we’ll head back up to the library.”
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