Awakening of the Seer (The Gateway Trackers Book 3)

by E. E. Holmes

  “Ah, never mind, then,” Savvy said, her annoyance melting with the warmth of her own grin. “It was worth it for the shock value alone! I’ve never seen so many sticks go so far up so many arses all at once.” She chuckled reminiscently. “That was brilliant, that was. Even if you never get near that Council seat, it was worth running just for the looks on all of their faces when the cheap seats exploded in applause.”

  “It was a wonderful speech, Hannah,” Frankie chimed in. “Definitely a great thing to hear my first time in the Grand Council Room.”

  “Thanks, Frankie,” Hannah said, smiling at her. “How is your training going?”

  “It’s . . . an adjustment,” Frankie said carefully. “But it’s been better since I started accepting reality.”

  “Have you been able to sort things out with your school?” Hannah asked.

  “Yes,” Frankie said. “Siobhán assigned some of the Trackers to handle all of the details, to make sure I’m getting the tutoring I need to stay at the top of my class and graduate on time. With any luck, I’ll be applying to a university medical program as planned.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Hannah said, but her smile was fading. “I suppose I may have some decisions to make about school myself if . . .”

  “If you get onto the Council? Don’t get too far ahead of yourself,” said a purr of a voice from behind us.

  I spun to see Catriona standing just behind us, her arms crossed over her chest and her signature bored smirk back on her face. “It’s still a long shot. But I must admit, you have made for a very entertaining first week back to the Council,” she added.

  “Hi, Catriona,” Hannah said stiffly, her cheeks blushing pink. “How are you feeling?”

  “Oh, I’m in tip-top shape again, thank you,” Catriona said, brushing a stray hair from her face. “A bit fatigued perhaps, but that’s to be expected when your body is used like a vacant motel suite.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. We were all worried about you,” I said.

  Catriona snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you were just devastated. I daresay you wouldn’t have minded another week or two without me, but you mustn’t be too disappointed. Say what you will about me, but I’m resilient, if nothing else.”

  “Fair enough,” I said. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “Well, I’m now about several weeks behind on my paperwork for the Trackers,” Catriona sighed. She raised a hand to silence us as we all opened our mouths to protest. “I know, I know, but the spirit world slows down for no one, not even the Host of a Shattering. Some cases were put on hold, of course, but others plowed right along without me.”

  My heart began to race. Only one case could bring her here, to talk to us. I silently begged that she wouldn’t continue, but my pleas went unanswered.

  “I came down to ask if I might have a word with you, Jess,” Catriona went on, “about that Traveler Walker you caught on the Campbell case. Won’t take long.”

  “Uh, sure, that’s fine,” I said. “I just need to be back in time for the Airechtas session.”

  Catriona rolled her eyes. “Jessica, we both have to be back in time for the Airechtas session.” She pointed at herself. “Council member, remember?”

  “Yeah, right,” I mumbled, standing up and cramming the rest of my muffin into my mouth. “See you guys later,” I said, waving at Savvy and giving Hannah a reassuring nod.

  We walked along in silence for several minutes, Catriona several long strides ahead of me, before she spoke again.

  “Quite the power play, going for the Council seat.”

  I scowled at the back of her golden head. “Power play?”

  “I’m not trying to insult you. In fact, I’m impressed,” Catriona said, though there was something playful in her tone. “I didn’t realize you two were so cunning to recognize this kind of opportunity, much less bold enough to seize on it.”

  “Catriona, I don’t know what you’re talking about, so either explain yourself, or leave me alone,” I said through clenched teeth. It was remarkable how quickly she managed to bring all of my contempt rushing to the surface. Perhaps it was the fact that her droll manner so recalled her cousin Lucida, but I could already feel my blood starting to bubble under the surface. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that, however much I might dislike her, Catriona was essentially my boss now.

  “Oh, come now. The leadership is in shambles at the moment, you must realize that,” Catriona said languidly. “We don’t know whether we’re coming or going, and it’s really down to you and your sister.”

  “How refreshing. We’re getting blamed for something else,” I grumbled.

  Catriona tossed her cascade of curls aside so that she could throw a contemptuous look over her shoulder at me. “It’s not personal. It’s simply fact. Between Finvarra’s illness, scrambling to install a new High Priestess, and the Airechtas, we’re all flailing around like chickens with our heads cut off. The clans are divided on who ought to lead, and there is considerable dissention in the ranks about where the Northern Clans should go from here. Some long for a return to the familiar, but many others would be just delighted to shake things up and watch the ruling clans topple.”

  I didn’t reply. This was the first I’d heard of any of this.

  “Many of them aren’t very vocal, because they aren’t the ones holding the cards, but they will make themselves heard with their votes, and no mistake. I understand your sister has already found an eager little fan club amongst those who are in favor of a change of the guard.” She smirked at me. “Surely this was part of your scheme.”

  “No,” I said shortly.

  “Well, Finvarra surely knows it. I can’t imagine how you persuaded her to nominate your clan. But I suppose the family connection must help.”

  “What family connection?”

  Catriona laughed. “Oh Jessica, you are such a terrible fake at innocence. Your father, pet. Your dear father who spends his afterlife dangling on Finvarra’s arm. We all know she values his opinion very highly, perhaps more than anyone else’s, even in spite of the obvious betrayal of trust. Do you honestly mean to tell me that he hasn’t been lobbying on your behalf?”

  I could feel my nostrils flaring like an angry bull. “My father is a virtual stranger to me. Our relationship, or lack thereof, is absolutely none of your business. But because I don’t want your Council friends walking around with a false perception, you should know that Carrick had nothing to do with Finvarra’s decision to nominate us. I think he’d be happier if we put as much space between ourselves and the Council as possible.”

  Catriona pursed her lips at me and inclined her head. “Whatever you say.” It couldn’t have been clearer that she didn’t believe a word I’d said. But her words jolted me. In all of the insanity of discovering I was a Seer, I’d completely forgotten Celeste’s message from the day before.

  “Do you know . . . how is Finvarra doing?”

  Even Catriona couldn’t remain smug as she replied, “Poorly. Very poorly.”

  “But she’s still—”

  “Yes, she’s still alive. I don’t know what she’s hanging on for, but she’s not done fighting yet, for whatever reason.”

  I let out a breath I had realized I’d been holding, and resolved to tell Hannah, as soon as I saw her, about Carrick’s request. We would have to decide together whether we would go, and what the hell we would say when we got there.

  I followed Catriona into the Tracker office, trying my best not to relive the last time we’d been here, when Catriona had become the first victim of the Shattering. The windows had since been repaired, and the tapestry that Catriona had used to try to smother the fire had been whisked away to Fiona’s studio to be repaired; another tapestry had unceremoniously taken its place, completing the illusion that nothing amiss had ever happened here.

  “So, I looked through the transcripts you and your sister signed. My thanks to both of you for finishing that while I was . . . indisposed,” Catriona
said.

  “No problem,” I said.

  “I sent them off to the Traveler Council several days ago, and they’ve reviewed them, along with the entire file for the Walker’s case.”

  “You mean Irina,” I said defensively.

  “Does it really matter what I call her?” Catriona asked, with a bored roll of her eyes.

  “Does it matter what I call you?” I countered.

  She ignored the question. “The Travelers have set a trial date for Irina next week. They have requested that either you or your sister attend to testify.”

  I clasped my hands together in my lap to keep them from shaking. “Why? They have our full statements. What else do they need?”

  “That’s not my concern,” Catriona said. “I’m simply informing you that as your Tracker mentor, I’ve assigned the task to you.”

  “Why me?” I asked.

  “Are you going to question everything I tell you while you’re here? If you are, please do let me know now, so that I can adjust my schedule for the rest of the day,” Catriona drawled, lounging back in her chair and putting both of her feet up on the desk.

  “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to ask questions,” I said shortly.

  “I’m choosing you because you have a longer history with the Walker. You have more experience interacting with her, and your insights on her behavior are therefore more relevant than your sister’s. Secondly, I am choosing you because you are available,” Catriona said dryly. “Your sister may or may not be otherwise engaged next week, trying to learn the ropes of the Council. Even though it’s doubtful that she will win, I think it better to send the twin with the empty dance card.”

  I bit my lip, refusing to rise to Catriona’s bait. I had too many important questions.

  “Am I allowed to ask another question?”

  “If you must.”

  “What will this trial be like? I mean, what will I have to . . . do?” My only experience with courts or trials was what I had seen on television, and somehow, I didn’t think a Durupinen Traveler tribunal was likely to bear much resemblance to an episode of Law and Order.

  “Every enclave has its own policies and procedures, but generally, you will have to sit in front of some sort of jury and answer questions about what happened at Whispering Seraph. It should be very straightforward. Just tell them what happened so that they have an accurate account of Irina’s crimes.”

  “I . . . I’m not in any sort of trouble with the Travelers, am I?” I ventured.

  Catriona frowned. “Why would you be in any trouble?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t know if maybe . . . the fact that we tried to Cross Irina instead of turning her in . . .”

  “Oh, that,” Catriona said, rolling her eyes yet again. “The only people you might have gotten in trouble with for that foolishness were the Trackers, and luckily for you, they reviewed my notes and decided to chalk it up to your inexperience and a callow tendency toward empathy that the rest of us have all but forgotten we once possessed. No, the Travelers only care that Irina was returned to them. But if you are looking to avoid their ill-will, just be sure to emphasize the time-sensitive nature of the situation. You had to make a decision on the spot. You did not know when we would arrive. You felt the best way to minimize the threat was to Cross her. Leave it at that.”

  Only then, as I felt my body relax, did I realize how much tension I’d been holding inside. I took a long, slow breath and attempted a smile. “That’s good to know. Thanks.”

  Catriona ignored my thanks, reaching instead into her desk and pulling out a folder, which she slid across the desktop to me. “Details of your travel plans are all in here. Your Caomhnóir will accompany you to the Traveler camp. Hannah can find adequate protection here among the castle Caomhnóir until your return.”

  I picked up the folder without opening it. My mind was racing. “Great. Is there anything else?”

  “Not from me, no. Shall I brace myself for a barrage of questions, or can you spare me the agony?” Catriona asked, her expression innocent, but her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “I’ll spare you,” I said, shortly, and walked out of the room.

  There was no room left in my frazzled consciousness to deal with Catriona and her predictably sardonic attitude. All I wanted to do was to get away from her as quickly as possible so that I could think. I started off down her corridor and just kept walking.

  Irina’s life had been hell on earth from the moment she began to Walk—a practice she took on purely at the command of the Durupinen. They wanted to explore her abilities and mine her for a myriad of possible uses. They knew the practice was dangerous, but the Durupinen pushed Irina further and further to explore Walking, until her love of existence in the spirit form trumped her loyalty to them. When they realized they had lost control over her, the Durupinen trapped her back in her own body and concocted a crude prison for her, using chains to restrain her body and Castings to restrain her spirit. That was how I had first encountered her; imprisoned in a broken-down wagon like an abused circus animal, driven insane with the intensity of her longing to be free of her body.

  I knew I would never forget the pitiful sight of her, and the agony of her cries. Even as she taught me to Walk, at the behest of the Durupinen, Irina thought of nothing but her own freedom. Something in me gave me the ability to Walk without experiencing the same intense pain and longing, but it did not prevent me from pitying Irina. And so, when an Unmasking revealed her to be the culprit at Whispering Seraph, and I was presented with the opportunity to free her forever—to allow her to Cross—I leapt at it. I could never right the many wrongs she had been subjected to, but I could, at the very least, prevent further travesties from being inflicted upon her.

  It was Catriona who had prevented that Crossing, forcing us instead to Cage Irina and turn her over to the Traveler Durupinen to face “justice” for her crimes. I would not deny that Irina’s actions at Whispering Seraph hurt a lot of people, but the thought of punishing her was unforgivable. It was because of the severity of her mistreatment that she committed her crimes in the first place. I suppose I didn’t expect Catriona to have pity for Irina; Catriona didn’t seem to have pity for anyone. I had hoped the Traveler Durupinen might find it in their hearts to just let Irina go, knowing the awful torture they themselves had put her through, but I could not be sure that they would make the right decision.

  And so, I had made Irina a promise. I swore that I would find a way to free her. It was an irrational, reckless promise, born of pity and fear and anger. It was a promise I didn’t have the power or authority to make, and I had no real plan how I would be able to keep it. But now, it seemed, the moment to figure it out was upon me. I was out of time. Irina’s fate would be decided at this trial, and I would have to be prepared to free her if the Travelers would not.

  And I had absolutely no idea how the hell I was going to do it.

  15

  The Rise and the Fall

  I ONLY MADE IT BACK to the Grand Council Room just in time for the start of the morning’s session, which had already begun as I slid into my seat.

  “What did I miss?” I whispered.

  “Celeste lit a candle for Finvarra and asked us all to keep her in our thoughts. She’s really not doing well,” Hannah answered. She pointed to the empty throne, on which now burned a tall white taper in a golden candleholder.

  I bit my lip. The trauma of discovering I was a Seer had driven Carrick’s request right out of my mind. My God, would the barrage of unfaceable realities never let up?

  “I have to tell you something,” I whispered, and leaned in, imparting the entirety of my conversation with Celeste into Hannah’s ear.

  Her expression was heavy with a mixture of conflicting emotions that I recognized all too well.

  “I mean . . . we’ll have to go, won’t we?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied.

  “It just seems like . . . I know Finvarra is the one dying, but
. . .”

  “I know, I know,” I said, and I dropped my head against the table. “If we don’t go, it’s like we’re denying a deathbed wish or something.”

  “Well . . . yeah,” Hannah said quietly.

  I lifted my head to look at her. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “Neither do I,” she admitted. “But maybe that’s not what it’s about. Maybe he has things to say to us. Don’t we owe him the chance to say them?”

  I didn’t answer, but I bristled at the thought of owing him anything. Finally, I sighed. “I don’t know. But I’ll go if you want to.”

  “I’m not sure that I want to,” Hannah said. “But I think we should. Let’s get through the vote this evening, and maybe we can go in the morning?”

  “Okay.”

  We both turned our attention to Celeste, who was walking us all through the voting process.

  “This evening at six o’clock, the doors to the Grand Council Room will open, and each clan will be called forth to place their vote here.” She gestured to a large, carved wooden box, rather like a small steamer trunk, that had appeared on a pedestal during the lunch break. “When all of the votes have been cast, the clans will convene in the central courtyard around the Geatgrima while the votes are counted. When the winner of the election has been determined, that clan’s banner will be hung from the highest window of the South Tower.”

  I looked over at Hannah. Her eyes were glazed over, and I wondered if she was imagining the same sight as I was: the deep purple banner of Clan Sassanaigh unfurling across the gray stonework high above our heads. It was the first time that the faint possibility of winning the election filled me with a sense of pride and excitement, rather than fear and trepidation. But then, the dread seeped back in as I glanced across the breadth of the hall to where Finn stood, the picture of duty and sacrifice. I could see his pride and his surety in the thrust of his jaw, the squaring of his shoulders.