Deviate

by Tracy Clark

  “I can’t make your legs work, but I can keep you company until they do,” Saoirse said, startling me from my thoughts. She stood in the doorway with something in her hand. Color had returned to her face. Though she was still pale, peachy warmth spread like a crushed flower on her cheeks.

  I was a wilted weed in comparison.

  “What’s happening with her?” I asked, pointing upward and struggling for the energy to talk. “You know how I feel about this. I can’t kill someone I know.”

  Saoirse pursed her lips. “It’s a sticky situation, all right.” She sat down, facing me. “My mother has made it clear that the girl—”

  “Mari.”

  “…that she can’t walk out of here after what she’s seen and knows. If word got out, the world would accuse us of murder.”

  “We are murderers.”

  “Still,” she pressed on, “I think the only thing keeping her alive is the information she dangled. She’s either very smart or very rash. Since I do know my mother wants to find three Scintilla, she’ll let her live until she’s sure she can’t help her get them.”

  “How do you know your mom wants three?” I asked, intent on getting the truth from her. “Why three specifically? What’s the significance?”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of questions. I’m not sure I can answer them all, but I—I feel like I can tell you anything,” Saoirse said, though her eyes showed resistance. It was interesting, watching her fight. I realized I’d better pay attention to the level of fight in a person to truly know if they strained to hide a truth. There were more ways to deceive than an outright lie.

  “I overheard my mum telling your uncle that three Scintilla together were vital. I only caught the tail end of the conversation, but she told him that it could liberate us.”

  “Liberate?” Knowing my selfish uncle, he took whatever Ultana had told him and decided he’d pretend to be her humble servant, then go off and benefit from finding and keeping three for himself. Still, knowing why three was their goal would be good knowledge to have. I planned to ask my mother if she knew anything about the significance of three as soon as possible.

  If they were smart, Cora and the others would split up. Their collective energies were already enough to cause Arrazi to take notice. That was how Clancy had found their little cottage rental. Arrazi might not be able to see auras, but they could sniff them on the wind like mongrel dogs.

  “I don’t know what my mother meant by ‘liberate.’ She confounds me half the time, and the other half, she’s so secretive I never know what’s truly going on. She’s free with her knowledge of our history—a locked door when it comes to her dealings with the Society. I think she’s trying to protect Lorcan and me.”

  Her hand fell to my arm and she squeezed softly, her eyes sincere. “I think I’ve said enough, except”—she paused and touched her fingers over her lips—“I want to thank you, Finn, for being here for me for one of the worst moments of my life. I’ll never forget how you tried to help me through it. I know it’s hard for you, too.”

  She set a deck of cards on my dead leg and smiled, her body language switching from serious to playful. “The least I can do is keep you company until you aren’t our reluctant guest anymore.”

  “Saoirse, seriously, I can’t dodder with cards at a time like this.”

  She slid the cards from their box into her palm. “I’m just going to give you a reading. I believe the cards can help.”

  “Tarot cards?” I guessed, having a quick look at the deck. “I’ve never had a tarot card reading before.”

  She set the deck down between us. Her head bent over the cards in concentration, and a stray bolt of red hair dangled down against her cheek. “Okay, Finn, hold one thought or one question in your mind.”

  No worries, there.

  Saoirse shuffled, and with quick practiced flicks of her wrist she placed three cards on the chaise. “Past, present, future,” she said, tapping each, one by one. “For past,” she said, flipping the card over, “the High Priestess reversed. This is a card about secrets and knowledge withheld. It indicates there’s something in your past that you haven’t fully dealt with, perhaps denying something you know deep down is true. It could also mean you’re worrying excessively about someone else’s problems.” Her eyes blinked toward the upstairs floor before she turned the second card over.

  “This is your present, the Nine of Swords. Nightmares? Memories haunting you? Basically, Finn, you’re spending lots of time stressing and obsessing about this corner you feel you’re trapped in.”

  The cards for past and present were pretty accurate.

  “For future,” she said, flipping the card over. “The Two of Cups.” Her voice ended on an up-note of surprise. I had no idea what that card meant, or why it caused a slip of a smile to lift one side of her mouth.

  On the card, a man and a woman stared deeply into each other’s eyes. They each held a golden chalice from which they poured the contents from their own cups down into a single cup between them. Two snakes rose and twisted together above the man and woman.

  “What’s that snake symbol? I’ve seen it somewhere.”

  “You’ve seen it because physicians use it. Likely, it’s on your parents’ doctoral certificates. It symbolizes healing and balance. In tarot, the two snakes rising up represent duality. The fact that they’re intertwined represents their union or reconciliation of opposites.”

  “Duality?”

  “The dark and light within us. Pouring their separate cups into the single cup depicts that union. They are offering of what they each uniquely have and combining them into something greater.”

  “And the red lion’s head?” I asked. “What’s that about?”

  “It’s called the caduceus. It’s a symbol of strength and courage. Also, of attraction, or passion. Fire energy. It speaks of the beauty and power when two come together and become one,” she said with a blush unfurling on her chest. She’d been looking down at the cards the whole time as she spoke, but tilted her head and gave me a shy, sideways peek. “The Two of Cups is a lover’s card.”

  I shot a surprised glance at her and swallowed hard. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice descending to a demure hush. “It suggests that it may be the time for you to join with another and work in partnership. It—it would be a very favorable time for that.” She locked stares with me. “According to the cards.”

  Saoirse’s body tilted closer. “I shouldn’t…” She bit her lip as her exploratory sea-glass gaze roamed my face. The bend in her brows showed uncertainty before an inner truth displaced the question in her eyes and she leaned fully forward, brushing her lips softly, tentatively, against mine.

  The intimate contact with another was comforting even as it stunned me. Her mouth was warm, inviting. There was a sweet hesitancy in her kiss, and the dude in me wanted to draw that out, see what fire was underneath the restraint. I felt a rush of surprise and flattery, but I didn’t want Saoirse. I didn’t want shy and restrained. I wanted intensity. I wanted to be pushed up against a tree. I wanted Cora.

  It was always going to be Cora.

  It wasn’t that I never wanted to be kissed again. It felt damn good. But the impression was much like having ale when all you want in this world is a glass of whiskey. Good, damn enjoyable even, but not what I really wanted. I gently pressed my hand to her collarbone and ended the kiss.

  Hurt flashed in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t be. I don’t know what possessed me.” She stood and the tarot cards spilled to the floor. “That’s bad luck,” she said, looking down.

  She’d taken the Two of Cups personally, I realized. But when I saw that card and listened to her explanations of it, all I could think of was Cora and me. We could not be more opposite. “Duality” could not be expressed more perfectly than how we were made so different. When Saoirse had said “reconciliation of opposites,” stubborn, irrepressible hope welled up in
me.

  “I had every intention of never acting on that impulse.” A mortified look passed over her. “I can’t believe I kissed you. I feel like a right fool.”

  “No, don’t,” I said. “Go on. I feel wretched. You’re lovely. Very lovely, Saoirse. But it’s like I said before, I’m ruined.”

  Her brow shot up. “Ruined? I figured you were being dramatic.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever love anyone else. I mean, I know you weren’t talking love and it was just a kiss and all, but—”

  “She must have been something incredibly special, Finn.”

  “Aye. She was that.”

  “What happened?”

  The doorbell rang, a welcome interruption, and Saoirse went to answer it. Clancy’s deep, booming voice pounded like a heavy stone tossed across the marble floors. Hell. He was the last person I wanted to see right now, and I didn’t want him anywhere near Mari. He followed Saoirse into the room.

  “What’s this, lad?” Clancy said, seeing me on the chaise. His vest strained against his belly and he kept his hands in his pockets as he looked me over with a concern I hadn’t seen in his eyes for some time. “You need to kill.”

  “Aye,” I admitted. “And Lorcan seems to have put some kind of hex on me.” Why lie? Clancy should know that Lorcan had a sortilege, and I wanted to see if my uncle would know any way to help me since Ultana hadn’t been interested to try. I think she liked seeing me helpless, a fly paralyzed and dangling in her web.

  “What happened? Exactly what did he say?”

  “He said if I repeated something I said to him that I’d not be able to walk for a day.”

  “So, it wasn’t an outright curse? It was, if you do this then that’ll happen?”

  “I don’t see the difference. The outcome is still the same. I can’t fookin’ walk.”

  “There’s a great bit o’ difference. Something being dependent upon something else is a wily curse in that it leaves it up to you whether or not it befalls you. The power is all yours. It’s known as a geis. It can be a curse or a blessing but is entirely dependent upon your obedience to it.” He scratched his beard. “I’ve not heard of someone having that ability in eons. You’re saying that lump of an empty head can do this?” Clancy looked to Saoirse and tipped his head apologetically.

  Saoirse shrugged. “I happen to agree, so no offense taken.”

  “Too bad he can’t be muzzled. I had no idea he had a sortilege. Do you, child?” Clancy asked her.

  “No.”

  “How did he get it?”

  I knew my uncle’s mind would leap straight to the right conclusion. Maybe it’d do him good to know Ultana and Lorcan Lennon were much more dangerous than he thought.

  “He took from a Scintilla. Can the geis be undone?” I asked.

  “Not that I know of. You’ll have to wait it out. You’re lucky he didn’t say ‘forever’ rather than a day.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked with a profound edge to my voice.

  “Mind yourself. Ultana has a message for me from the head of the Society.”

  “Who is the head?” I asked, quickly slipping the noose of truth around his neck.

  Clancy immediately sensed what I’d done and gave me a reproachful look. He seemed to fight it as Saoirse had but finally said, “Don’t be impertinent, boy. I don’t know who the head of the Society is. I don’t even know if she knows. Trails are less worn the higher up the path you go.”

  Ultana came in, gave me a curt nod, and whisked Clancy away. I heard her office door open and close down the hall. I fervently wished for two things: that she’d not notice anything amiss in her office, and that she’d be as cagey as I suspected she was and say nothing to my uncle about Mari being upstairs. Mari’s life depended on many things, most of which I had little control over at the moment.

  All too soon, their meeting concluded. My uncle popped his head through the door and winked. I had no idea what that meant, but it set me on edge. I was not Clancy’s coconspirator. Gone was the warm relationship we once had. It was another of my losses.

  There was a time when I preferred his company over my parents’, especially in the last few months when their insistence that I give up my music in favor of medicine increased and when their restrictions grew more severe. Uncle Clancy seemed to counter that with full support of my music, as he was a musician, too. He’d shown trust in me with the business of running the pub, and he encouraged my longing for more freedom. He was the reason I got to go to America. Now I knew why.

  My heart throbbed sorely with the betrayal. I once loved and respected my uncle.

  Love has the most potent ability to crack you.

  “I passed a job your way,” Clancy said in a low voice, waggling his bushy white eyebrows like this was the most grand news ever. “After you’re up and moving, of course. You’re right useless as you are now. I’ll inform your mother.” He laughed on his way out the door.

  “Useless,” I muttered. Unless I could find proof otherwise, all Arrazi were useless.

  Fifty

  Finn

  “Your uncle places a great deal of faith in you, Finn.” Ultana leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “I offered him a very important job and he’s asked that you be entrusted with it. I’m not certain what to make of his request. I’m not naturally inclined toward trust until it’s conclusively earned.”

  “I’m not going to fall all over myself to convince you to trust me, Ultana,” I said, irritated. I was struggling to stay alert. She had to play with me when I could barely keep my head upright? Saoirse made a sound from the other side of the room but quickly scurried out when her mother glared. I knew a baited hook when one was dangled in front of me, and I didn’t want any part of a job of Clancy’s.

  I’d seen him at work.

  “Sometimes trust is a leap of faith,” I said.

  “Faith.” Her black lace-up boots tapped on the floor as she approached and lifted my chin, forcing me to face her. But for the wrinkles that stretched from it, the V on her face was as clear as a branding. There was no way it was a birthmark. “I have faith in very little,” she said. “Faith is a barren plate for those who hunger for certainty. In this world, nothing is certain.”

  “Don’t touch me like I’m a child,” I said, jerking my chin from her grasp. My fists clenched against the urge to shove her away, but I didn’t honestly think I had the strength. My own death was imminent and I didn’t care by whose hand it came, so long as it came after I accomplished the only thing I lived to do. Beyond that, the only death I feared was any death I caused.

  Ultana laughed, slapping her one hand on her thigh. “Oh, but I do have faith in your ability to keep me amused.” Her tone turned serious again. “The Society has many holdings and companies all over the world. Despite your obvious suspicion of their motives, you might be interested to know that one of their Japanese subsidiaries funds important research that is vital to our future survival.” She bent low and looked me in the eye. “You’re very keen to find a way to live without killing, are you not?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather live without killing?”

  Her eyes turned skyward, thoughtful. The thin, veined skin around her eyes folded as she squinted, considering my question. I couldn’t believe how long she took in thinking it over; nor again, how her profile so mirrored that of the Michelangelo drawing in her office. Her gaze returned to me. “Killing can be inconvenient, at times. This is why it’s vital that research continue on synthetic ways to manufacture the energy we need. If successful, then distasteful events such as what transpired today in my home won’t have to happen again.”

  There was a quickening in my gut as I pondered the possibilities. Hope rose in me like frothy cream. “I’d love to know more about this research.” I had no idea people were working on this while I was out killing trees.

  “Your uncle said you’d say that. One of the Society’s holdings is a facility here in Dublin that has been working tirelessly on en
ergy research. I’ve been expecting a report to arrive via courier about an exciting new development at the facility, but no one has arrived. While the researcher seems to be enormously devoted to the work and is doing his due diligence, it’s high time for a visit to see the developments in person.”

  That didn’t actually sound so bad. “I want to go,” I assured her, excited because of the potential and because I’d felt the first tingling of sensation in my toes.

  “Of course you want to,” she said, looking down at the wiggling movement of the blanket at my feet. Nothing escaped her notice. “As soon as you fall all over yourself proving that I can trust you, you will be permitted to go.”

  A tidal wave of sensation suddenly washed from my feet all the way up my legs. As fast as it had been taken from me, my mobility had returned. Lorcan’s geis did say “a day” and it must have run its course. Because I was so weakened in spirit, I fought to stand, but once I did I towered over Ultana, which was a much more comfortable vantage from which to face her. “Trust me. I’m ready. Finding a way to be free of this hell is the only thing I’m interested in.”

  She smirked. “Excellent. Come with me.”

  With every stair we took, my anticipation sank lower. I knew where she was taking me. And I knew without a doubt, like a brainless mackerel, I’d taken her bait. When someone has what you want most, they wield the hook.

  Ultana opened the door and strode in. I was more on guard, fully expecting someone with Mari’s temperament to be at the ready to bash our heads in. I was actually disappointed she wasn’t—even more so when I saw why.

  Mari was restrained by ropes to a wooden chair. Her head bobbed oddly when we walked in. Her aura felt weak to me, like a pulse thrumming faintly through layers of clothing. It was enough to spike my raring need, however. She looked disoriented. There’d obviously been a row of some kind with Ultana. Swelling encircled her left eye from which she peered sidelong at us.

  “Finn and I were just discussing trust and faith,” Ultana said. “He feels trust is a leap of faith. I feel it’s a gift bestowed after demonstrable acts. Where do you stand on this?” she asked Mari. My stomach knotted with dread and palpable hunger. It took every bit of strength to tamp it down.