“Yes?” Mara asked.
Sighing, Lucy twisted her fingers together. “I suppose the truth is that I behaved so badly because I’m . . .”
“You’re what, Lucy?”
“I’m . . . envious . . . that you two were able to follow your hearts. The same has never been true for any Oathtaker before you while his charge still lived. There are those who’ve . . .” Once more, she weaved her fingers together. “Well, who’ve loved and lost.”
Mara took Dixon’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry about. Once I swore oaths for the protection of my charges, I never expected that the rules would be any different for me than for any other Oathtaker.” She held Mara’s gaze for a moment, then looked down. “Still, I suppose somewhere in the deepest part of me, I felt I might have lost something and . . .” She swallowed hard. “In any case, like I said, I deeply regret how I treated you.”
“It’s forgiven, Lucy—just like we told you earlier.”
“Yes, well, I mean to show you that I understand how wrong I was. I knew my time was running short, yet it seems Ehyeh has now granted me this second opportunity. I can promise you that I won’t allow it to pass by without taking full advantage of it.” She faced Dixon. “I’m especially sorry for what I did to you, my dear friend. I know you’ve long been faithful to our cause—to Ehyeh’s cause—of life and freedom. Rowena was eternally grateful to you. She trusted you completely—and for good reason. I’m sorry, truly and deeply sorry, for how I behaved.”
He shrugged. “Mara’s right—and the twins were right when they said that we need to stick together. All is forgiven.”
Lucy smiled, wanly. “Thank you both for being bigger and better people than I showed myself to be.” She sighed. “Well now, as I said, there are some things you should know. However, what I’m about to tell you can never leave this room. Have I got your agreement?” She looked at each of her comrades, in turn. “If you don’t think you can live up to this requirement, then please, leave now.”
No one moved.
She stood and paced, her hands fidgeting. Then she turned back again. “Reigna and Eden,” she said, “when you arrived back to the City of Light after you were tested in The Tearless and found Ehyeh’s favor, everything was in chaos. We all headed here, back to the compound, to pack our things for returning to the palace. In all the turmoil, I didn’t bother to take the time to discuss the most important facts with you.” She bit her lip, then paced again.
“Some time ago,” she continued, “Ehyeh shared information with me. I had awaited the new seventh seventh and her Oathtaker for decades. There were things I didn’t understand about the Good One’s revelations to me, but they made more sense when I discovered that there were two of you born to Rowena, and not just the one intended—or expected, that is.”
She returned to the group, then sat. “You see, the Good One revealed to me the powers of the rightful next seventh seventh. Like I said, they didn’t make much sense then. But in light of what just happened here, I suspect you’ve already figured out some things for yourselves.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lucy,” Reigna said.
“Nor I,” Eden added.
“As the rightful ranking members of the Select, you’ve been endowed with certain magic powers,” Lucy said. “Have you wondered at all what they might be?”
Reigna shrugged. “No. I figured when the time came, they’d make themselves known.”
“And indeed they have. Or, at least they have in part.”
Eden shuffled in her seat. “I don’t understand. I haven’t noticed any magic.”
“No, but your sister has.”
“What?” Reigna asked. “What are you talking about?”
Lucy bit her lip. “You, Reigna, possess a single power—an incredible, unique, and extraordinary, power. You exercised it today.”
She pulled back. “Again I ask, ‘what are you talking about?’”
“You have the power to bring someone back to life.”
“What?” Mara cried, her eyes wide.
“At your word and on your touch,” Lucy added, her gaze never leaving the young woman.
Reigna sat, her mouth open, struggling for words. Finally, she asked, “Are you sure?”
“I’m . . . quite certain.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “But—I don’t want it!”
“Nevertheless, it is yours. And that leads me to believe that you, Eden,” Lucy said, turning her way, “will possess an equally unique and extraordinary power. It will be the . . . opposite of your sister’s.” She cocked her head.
“I don’t understand.”
“I believe that you possess the power to bring death to someone upon your spoken word and touch.”
“No!” she gasped. “I agree with Reigna. I don’t want a power like that.”
“Yet, if I’ve understood correctly what Ehyeh revealed to me, you have it.”
Eden held her hand up, palm out. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. First of all, this sounds . . .” She shook her head. “Listen . . . Reigna is the warrior. I’m a peacemaker. These powers, if indeed you are right, seem . . . wrong . . . backward. Shouldn’t they be the other way around?”
“Leave it to the Good One, with His sense of humor, to do precisely what He did,” Lucy said with a sad smile. “You see, each of you needs the ability to do that which is the most unnatural to you. For Reigna, a warrior, bringing someone back to life is an ability she will likely exercise . . . sparingly. Likewise, if you, Eden, as a peacemaker, are able to make someone die on your demand that they do so, I suspect that you will use your power only on extremely rare occasions. And this is important, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”
The twins stared at one another.
Dixon frowned at Lucy. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’m pretty sure. I was dead and . . . now I’m not. I know it may have been only seconds here, but you can believe me when I say that I felt my spirit depart.”
“I saw it,” Mara muttered, as though to herself.
Lucy nodded. “I’m afraid there’s not a great deal more that I can tell you about all of this,” she said to the twins.
“Where did you say you got such an idea?” Mara asked.
“From Ehyeh himself. But I learned something more about the girls’ powers from a resource that Basha and Therese,” she gestured their direction, “found the last time they were at the palace.”
“What was that?” Basha asked.
“You brought back a book entitled, When the Two May Overcome. Do you remember?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Lucy turned back to the twins. “From that book I read something you girls must understand and never, ever, forget—or take lightly. And that is this: there will be a price to be paid every time you exercise your power.”
As the twins glanced at one another yet again, an expression of confusion on the face of each, the door burst open once more.
“Lucy!” the newcomer, an Oathtaker, Dalton, cried. “You have to come!”
She jumped to her feet. “What is it?”
“That woman you brought with you here from the city to help you with all of the books and to pack up—”
“Saga?” she asked.
“Yes! She’s— She’s dead! She was fine just a few minutes ago. She asked me to have Adele make her some parsnip root tea. I returned with it and gave it to her and then, minutes later, she doubled over in pain. The next thing I knew, she seemed to have a . . . a seizure of some kind. And then she couldn’t breathe! And now, she’s— She’s dead! I don’t know what could have happened.”
Lucy dropped her head in her hands, shook it, and then looked back up at Dalton. “I’ll be right with you,” she said. “Would you kindly wait outside for a minute?”
He stepped out.
She turned back to the twins. “The price has been exacted.”
Eden’s brow furr
owed.
Reigna shook her head. “I don’t understand. What price?”
Crouching down before her, Lucy whispered, “Whenever you use your power, Reigna, to bring someone back from the dead, an innocent person will die. It may be someone you’d least expect, or can least afford to lose. It may or may not appear to be due to natural circumstances. I don’t know. All I know for sure is that the person will be in your general vicinity.”
“But—” Reigna pulled back, in thought. “Anyone? Any time? You mean I could bring back . . .” She paused, thinking. “Could I bring back our mother?”
“No, I’m sorry, that you cannot do. You must be able to touch the person’s body, and you would have to act to bring the person back to life before sunset on the third day following his—or her—death.” Lucy patted her shoulder, then turned to Eden. “As I said, if you do indeed possess the power that I believe you have, you should know that anytime you use your power, someone will . . . return to life.”
The twins both stared at her.
“How is that possible?” Eden asked.
“With Ehyeh, all things are possible. So, remember that the person who comes back may not be someone you’d want back. And you should know that neither you nor your sister will be able to undo what the other, with her magic, has done.”
Eden shook her head in disbelief. “You mean they’ll crawl out of their grave somehow and—”
“Actually, Eden, I believe it will be more a matter of their deceased spirit taking over the life of another.”
“So . . . I’d be responsible for the loss of that life, as well?”
Lucy nodded, wincing.
Mara grasped Lucy’s arm. “Are you sure about this? It sounds . . . preposterous, to say the least.”
“As sure as I can be without asking them to test their powers.” She turned back to the others. “Now listen, everyone, this information must stay within this group. Imagine the requests—the demands—others might impose on the girls if they knew.” She turned back to the twins. “For your part, do you know how Dixon has always said that ‘doing a good thing is not the same as doing the right thing?’”
“Yes,” they answered, in unison.
“Well, keep that in mind when you’re tempted to use your abilities. I know you did so innocently today, Reigna, but because you brought me back to life, Saga is dead.”
Chapter Two
Lucy had asked Saga to accompany her from the City of Light to the compound—the place where she and a number of other Oathtakers had kept Reigna and Eden safe for about two decades—hoping to draw on her expertise. The woman, an old friend of Leala and Fidel’s, was considered the preeminent expert on the oldest tomes in Oosa. With her assistance, Lucy had intended to go through all of the compound resources so as to separate the wheat from the chaff, since there simply wouldn’t be room to take everything along to the palace of the first family of the Select, located in Shimeron. That would be folly; it would only delay things. Now, with Saga’s untimely death, Lucy would have a great deal more work to complete before she’d be ready to leave.
She and Mara followed Dalton to the cabin where Saga had stayed. Once there, they examined her body. They found no signs of injury. Indeed, but for a bit of froth at her mouth, she appeared unchanged.
“She was pretty much a loner,” Lucy said as she wiped the foamy spittle away, “and to the best of my knowledge, she had no family.”
“So there’s no one we should notify?” Dalton asked.
“I suppose we could let someone at sanctuary in the City of Light know of her passing. She’d lived there for some time after all, so they might appreciate our informing them.” She paused. “Oh, goodness, but Leala and Fidel will be heartbroken,” she added in a whisper.
“What do you suppose happened to her? What are we to tell them?” he asked.
She glanced briefly Mara’s way. “I . . .” She paused, then said, “I don’t know. Just tell them we found her dead, and that’s all we know.”
His brow furrowed. “All right,” he agreed.
“Why don’t you get some help to get her body prepared for burial, Dalton?” Mara suggested. “We’ll hold a service for her this evening.”
“Certainly. I’ll take care of it.”
Lucy walked out and started down the pathway that led to Adele’s kitchens and just beyond, to her own cabin.
Mara rushed up from behind. “Lucy, what is it?”
“What?”
“Something’s troubling you.”
She stopped short, then wiped her curly locks away from her brow. “I just . . . Oh, it’s nothing, really.” She stepped out again, pulling her shawl more tightly closed. Then she made her way around a group of Oathtakers packing one of the wagons for their journey to Shimeron.
“Wait, Lucy.” Mara, still following, grabbed her arm, then hurried up to keep pace with her. “I can feel it. Something’s bothering you. I’d like to help.”
“There’s nothing to be done.”
Mara pulled her to a stop.
Pursing her lips, Lucy shook her head. “I just feel . . . responsible, is all.”
“There was no way you could have known that Reigna would do what she did. Even if what you say about her power is true, you’re not to blame.”
“No, I mean, I feel . . .” She sighed, deeply.
“What? You feel what?”
Lucy held her gaze. “I said I thought I saw someone I knew.” She glanced across the yard. “If I hadn’t been distracted, I’d never have had that accident. And if that hadn’t happened, then Reigna wouldn’t—”
“You know better,” Mara interrupted. “You didn’t intend any of this, and you could hardly have anticipated it.”
Again, Lucy wiped her hand across her brow. “Still, it was all so foolish of me.”
Grasping her arm again, Mara urged her on. “Let’s go to my place. I’ll get you some tea.”
“I’m fine. Really, I—”
“Come on,” she said, guiding her around a corner, “I brought a good peppermint and lemon balm mix back with me from the city. It’s a pleasant change from our usual fare around here. It’ll lift your spirits.”
A minute later, upon entering her cabin, Mara directed Lucy to a chair. Then she retrieved a pot of water kept hot over the hearth, and set it on the table. She filled two tea balls with herbal leaves, dropped one into each of two mugs, and then poured scalding water over them. Instantly, a fresh, sweet, citrusy smell rose up into the air.
“Here, drink this,” Mara said, placing a cup before her long-time friend.
She grabbed the chain of the infuser in her own, and pulled it up, then dropped it back down. After a quiet minute repeating the procedure, all the while watching Lucy closely, she removed the tea ball and set it on a saucer. Then she picked up her cup to drink and looked out, over its edge.
“So, who is it you think you saw?” she finally asked.
“I’m sure I was mistaken.”
“Who?”
Lucy ran her finger around the edge of her mug. “Ahhh . . . Well, I’m sure this will come as something of a surprise to you, but . . .” She removed her tea ball with a sigh, then took a teaspoon of sugar and added it to her drink. She stirred it in. “Sometimes I think everyone believes I’ve no heart.”
Raising her brow, Mara chuckled. “No, Lucy. We just think you keep it . . . well concealed.”
Glancing up, Lucy caught Mara’s eye, and grinned. Then her smile turned down. “You’re not the first to tell me that.”
“Oh?”
“Remember earlier, when I told you that other Oathtakers before you have loved and . . . lost?”
Mara set her drink down. “Yes. I take it that you are one of those ‘other Oathtakers?’”
Pursing her lips, Lucy sighed. “Yes, although I’m sure that’s difficult for you to believe.”
“No, it’s not.” Mara tapped on the table. “So, who did you love and lose?”
Lucy opened her mouth as
though to speak, then closed it again, tightly.
“Does this have something to do with who you thought you saw earlier? Before your accident today?”
Lucy stood. “I should be going. Thank you for the tea, Mara.”
“Come on, now, sit down. Tell me.”
Pausing, Lucy wrung her hands, then sat again. “You and Dixon are sure to have a good laugh at my expense when you tell him all about this later . . .”
“That’s not true.”
“No, of course not. You’ve never been cruel. I’m sorry.”
“Who was it, Lucy?”
She sighed. Then, “His name was Petrus Feoras,” she said. “He . . . Well, I guess I . . . loved him.”
“How long ago was this?”
She stood, then paced. “Oh . . . a while back.”
Mara warmed her tea. “But you’ve been free from a life with a living charge for some time. You could have followed your heart. So . . . what happened?”
Approaching a nearby window, Lucy looked out. She seemed momentarily mesmerized by falling leaves dancing in the air in an array of gold and bronze.
“I said I loved him and . . . I did,” she said, looking back. “I suppose maybe I just didn’t love him . . . enough.”
“What does that mean?”
She cocked head. “I was on a mission. I refused to be turned from it. He . . . distracted me.”
“So you let him go?”
“I did. But you see, there was something even more important.”
“What was that?”
Lucy sat again. “Mara, do you remember the hearing you had with the Council after Lilith’s death, when the twins were just infants?” She waved her hand. “Oh, never mind, of course you do. Anyway, you’d made a decision . . . about Dixon.”
Mara bit her lip. “Yes.”
“Believing there was no way for the two of you to be together—to love one another and commit to one another—you decided that you would send Dixon away.”
Ephemeral and Fleeting Page 3