Luka raises one eyebrow. "Um, we'll need Meredith to pull it off, and there's no way she can charm eight Shades at once. Mortals, possibly—but not our kind."
"She won't need to. They have a chain of command. Convince their team leader and the rest will obey." Birka sounds awfully certain, but then again, as a once-and-future queen, she would know better than I.
I like the idea. But I have a change of plans, one I'm not telling them lest they try to stop me. I take a deep breath. I will not leave my family to be drained of life by Dawson's contraptions, but neither will I risk the others, especially not Luka and Talon. They'll get away and then I'll hope and pray I can take out enough Shades by surprise that my people, the Roma prisoners, can fight their way clear. "Fine. Let's do this."
As my team shuffles forward, showing off the wounded "Jennifer," I manage to work my way to our ensemble's rear. I tune out the noise and shouting of our ruse, focusing on the guards and my family, noting where they each are located and planning my move. My heart races as we are allowed through to the now-empty transit van.
The moment Luka and Glenn drag Talon into it, I turn toward the prisoners and their Shade jailers, trying not to look at my first victim—
My eyes connect with Mom's. Hers go moon-wide, her jaw dropping, and it stops me in my tracks for half a second, startled.
She doesn't give me time to enact my probably suicidal plan. Instead, she turns to face my father and screams, "If you can get out, my love, then run! I want you to live. Rescue us later, dammit."
My father looks surprised, but then, so do the Shades. One, sneering, kicks her in the back of her leg, forcing her to her knees. "None of you filthy Roma are going anywhere but the machine, fool."
Glenn is suddenly at my side, readying his own weapons behind his back. He whispers, "A tough fight to get clear of. You ready?"
Right before I step toward my first intended victim, Jason's voice cuts through the tumultuous scene around me, sounding tight and... afraid? "Damn, no. Ella. Get out. I sabotaged the device so no one else has to die today—if you just go."
I don't care. I take the first step, flexing my fingers on my knife hilts, feeling the rough texture of the leather-wrapped grips on this set under my fingers. Soon, they'll be needed to keep a grip with all the blood I'm about to spill. Glenn steps off with me, and I smile—
He reaches one arm around me, under my opposite arm, and pulls me aside so hard I almost lose my footing. By reflex, I find myself following him as I desperately try to stay upright. By the time I catch my balance enough to resist, he lifts me up and shoves me hard into the transit van. The only reason I don't scream and pounce then is that it wouldn't help my cause any. It'd just alert the guards. Nor can I get around Glenn because his large bulk takes up almost the entire van entryway.
He moves toward me, inexorably, like an iceberg. Vaguely, I hear myself spitting curses at him, but he never flinches, never wavers.
Defeated, and far too angry to form a coherent argument, I look out the row of tinted side windows. Meredith is talking to the man who seems to me like he's in charge of the Shades’ unit, and though his companions are clearly agitated, her victim nods and points toward the van, shouting something I can't hear from inside it.
No more than thirty seconds later, Luka and Birka have Talon in the mini-bus sprawled on the floor in the middle aisle and we're accelerating away.
My family... They made me leave my parents and kin back there...
Still in shock, I stare at Glenn with undisguised rage, but he only smirks at me. I want to cut that look off his stupid face.
Only once we're outside the facility and on the road, racing toward town, does he step aside. He extends one hand out toward Talon, inviting me. Damn him, I'll deal with him later. For now, though, it's time to lick my wounds and check on Talon's, so I make my way toward the front and fight to put on a neutral expression. It's hard to do, but this isn't Talon's fault and he doesn't need his first sight of me after captivity to be one of me scowling at him.
The transit van lurches when it hits a pothole, nearly sending me sprawling, but it levels out and I catch myself on an empty seat. I kneel down beside him while Birka works on tending several pretty bad wounds from his opposite side.
His eyes lock with mine, and while I try to figure out what to say first, he smiles through a pained grimace.
I just smile back and reach for his hand. I have no idea what to say. The man I love looks like a shadow of himself, and he has blood trickling from his nose—and more oozing from what look like severe second-degree burns around his wrists and in a band around his chest.
"Hey," he coughs, a drop of bloody spittle coloring his filthy, torn shirt. "Guess what?"
I wait with as much patience as I can muster, anxious that he not exert himself too much by arguing with him about talking right now. I shrug, instead.
Birka sits up, a nearly empty First Aid kit in one hand. "He's about as good as I can get him until we stop moving, but he'll live. I think he'll make a full recovery in a week or two, mostly from those burns."
I nod, smiling down at Talon. As Birka moves aside, Luka takes her place and grabs his other hand. "Damn, man, you have no idea how good it is to see you alive, my friend."
"Thanks." There's an awkward pause.
I break the silence first. "So, what was it you wanted to tell me? Say it so I can make you shut up and save your strength."
Luka chuckles, but Talon's expression grows serious for a moment as he replies, "You actually did it. You changed my Fate. Not just shifted it from one to another, but saved me. How... How's it feel?" He's momentarily wracked by another cough, this one feebler than the last.
I'm not really certain how I should reply to that. How do I feel? So many emotions are running through me, along with adrenaline and whatever else, that it's hard to sort one from the other, much less to piece together which emotion belongs to which event. As I sit there smiling down at him in my best "reassuring look," I luck out and miss having to figure out what to say, because his eyes flutter briefly and then close. A moment later, he's snoring softly.
Luke and I stay there beside him holding his hands until we arrive at our backup getaway cars. He and I don't exchange a word, only awkward glances. When we arrive, I still haven't figured out how I feel. I guess I'll have to figure it out sooner rather than later.
Chapter 8
The stolen minivan Talon and I ride in is a lot more comfortable than the transit van, now a burning wreck. Talon lies prone and snoring on the center bench seat, while Glenn drives, and Birka sits up front beside him. Luka and Meredith are in the first back row of bucket seats, while Ida and I take up the bench seat farthest back.
Turning half around to look back at us, Birka puts lotion on her hands for the third time since tossing the First Aid kit's latex gloves she'd worn setting up the burn, the same gloves she'd worn working on Talon. Apparently, queens and latex don't mix well, because her hands are an angry shade of red.
"Just so everyone knows," she says, "we're not going straight back to the safe house. For one, Glenn knows a Wraith with the healing Gift who'll help us with Talon. He swears the woman is trustworthy."
I glance at Ida beside me, but when her eyes narrow oh-so-slightly, I decide not to make the quip I had on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I reply, "That sounds great. What's the other reason?" In fact, I'm pretty sure her second reason will be her true motivation.
"He may have a tracker of some sort on him. I want to remove that possibility before we lead them right to our hideout." Birka doesn't wait for a response before turning back around to face front. Apparently, the conversation is over. Ha ha. Still acting like the queen, and she probably always will.
"I'm on it," Meredith says, and begins digging in her jacket pockets. First, she pulls out some device that looks a lot like a soldering iron, and waves it over Talon from head to toe. "No electronic bugs broadcasting," she declares, sounding more confident than I am in the results
.
Next, she pulls a small, round piece of glass out, which has a fine chain attached at one point. Its use becomes clear when she puts it up to one eye, working it in so that it stays there without her holding it. I struggle to remember the name, but then it comes back to me. It's a monocle. I've only seen them in cartoons.
"That better be enchanted or something," I say with a smirk.
"It is, actually. All it does is detect other enchanted objects, but Talon shouldn't have any on him. If they planted one, it'll find it and any other enchantments they might have devised for him."
She takes her time looking at him over the back of her seat, but doesn't touch him. "This was a gift from the Precentor of Rome's Wraith community. As a princess, it has been invaluable already on any number of occasions, and—"
She halts, mid-sentence.
"What is it?" I scoot forward to get a better look at Talon, but of course, I see nothing. I kind of want one of those eye pieces.
"Uncertain. There's a faint glow around him—no, it's gone. Wait... It's back. And it's only around part of him. Hang on."
It's hard to stand there in silence watching Meredith creep around Talon, checking him from every angle. I want to ask more questions, but that'll only slow her down.
At last, she nods and says, "Yes, I'm certain. There's something about his shirt, something faint."
Birka's lip curls back as she watches over the back of her front seat. "Something to make scrying easier, no doubt. Get it off him."
It's a hassle, since he's unconscious at the moment, but I manage to peel his tattered, blood-stained shirt off, and then I toss it out the window. Once Meredith and her magic eyepiece declare all-clear, we head for the hideout.
By the time we arrive, Talon is half awake, thankfully, and Luka and Glenn help drag him inside and into the tub, where Birka bathes him in private before helping him into bed.
Once that's done, she comes down and sits with the rest of us in the living room. No one has much to say, though. It has been a long, grueling day for us all.
The healer shakes his head as his hands hover over Talon's body. "I've never seen anything like it. It's as though his energy is just... gone."
"He's hurt," I say, feeling defensive for some reason I don't quite understand. Like I need to stand up for him.
"No," the man replies simply.
Birka, standing behind me, puts a hand on my shoulder. "Even ill or injured, his power should still be there, unless he's dead."
Ah. Well, we all know the reason for that, though no one tells the healer that. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Can you heal him?"
The healer shrugs. "Probably, but my Gift relies on using the patient's own energy to heal them through a kind of bio-energy positive feedback. That's the best I can explain it. It works even with mortals, though obviously they have less energy to work with. But this presents a problem..."
"Which is?"
He finally looks up, and he blinks as though seeing us for the first time all of a sudden. "Oh, um. Without his Gift's energy to 'power' the process, there's only so much I can do. My own energy doesn't actually fit into the process, beyond channeling it to guide the healing. Most of his wounds appear magical in nature, and only a lot of time or a lot of energy can accelerate his healing. I need more power."
Glenn says, "Dammit, Jim. I'm a healer, not a battery." He grins through Birka's and my glaring looks.
The healer smiles wanly for a moment before he says, "Actually, you are a battery. You all are. That's the nature of my Gift—channeling energy where it needs to go. If we form a circle around him and hold hands, I can siphon off a little bit from each of you and direct it into healing him, where his own magic would have done. If you're willing, of course."
"Of course we are," I blurt, resisting the urge to grab him by the shirt and shake him to get started right now.
Birka asks, "Are there risks for the 'batteries'?"
The healer shakes his head. "No. Not in these circumstances."
"Under which circumstances would there be a risk for us?"
I can't believe Birka isn't already ordering us all to hold hands. "Can we start, already?"
The healer ignores me. "My queen, if he were deceased, attempting to bring him back to life by channeling more energy into him would not only fail to work, it creates a negative feedback loop that can even be fatal. The dead are dead, and they stay that way. But your son still lives, so it's moot."
Luka coughs once, and I look down for a moment. Little does the healer know about the miracle that is Luka. Or the curse, depending on how one looks at it.
"Very well," Birka says. "Everyone, form a circle and clasp hands. Ella, would you like to be at one end holding Talon's hand? Your... intimacy with my son may help."
"Indeed," the healer mutters as he kneels beside Talon opposite me.
I grab Ida’s hand to my right, and then take Talon's hand in my left—
I'm standing face to face with Talon. Something warm and wet covers my hand. I look down, only to see it's blood. His blood, flowing over my hand and the knife I clutch in it, the knife buried in his chest just below where his ribs come together. I look up into his eyes, horrified.
He smiles and grimaces at the same time. "I... forgive..." He never finishes his sentence before the life leaves his eyes and he collapses to the stone-tiled floor.
I scream...
Someone knocks on the door. I ignore it and keep rocking, the closed toilet seat creaking each time as I clutch a big, folded towel like a life preserver. Part of it is damp, but I can't stop the tears. I don't want to.
The knob rattles, its lock turns, and the door glides open to reveal Luka in the doorway.
"It was locked for a reason, jerkface." I barely resist the urge to call him a lot worse names. This isn't his fault, though, so I catch myself in time.
"Yeah." He gives a half-hearted half smile. "But since it unlocks with just a thumbnail, I figure it was really just a suggestion. Besides, you're hurting. You don't think I'd let a flimsy door lock stop me from getting to you, do you?"
I feel my glare softening. Actually, I'm surprised at the empathy he's showing. Lately, he's been a very different person from the sensitive guy I first met on the bus the day he discovered me among the mortals. The day my life changed forever. "No, I guess not. What do you want, though?"
He comes inside and closes the door behind him, then leans against the sink. His hands are clasped together in front of him, and he peers at me intently for a while.
I meet his gaze without flinching—I don't want him there.
"You screamed. I know you said it was nothing and demanded we go on—and the healing worked. Less well than we'd hoped, though it wasn't a waste of time. But after, you practically ran out of there. I know something happened back there, and you need to tell me what it was."
"Why should I? I don't have to tell you everything." For the moment, I forget about crying and grasp onto a little ember of anger. I embrace it, feeding it. Anger is better than what I was feeling.
But Luka isn't having any of that. "I'm not the one you're mad at. I assume you had a vision. It was either Talon's or Ida's, and it freaked you out. What did you see?"
I try to stay angry, but his concerned expression, his softly spoken words, make that impossible.
At last, I take a deep breath, realizing he isn't going to leave this alone. Fine. I tell him everything, every detail. As long as I'm admitting my possible future guilt, I might as well tell him everything down to how it felt inside and hope he has some insight into it.
Then, I tell him the part I didn't even want to tell myself. It's probably the most important part, dammit all. "One more thing, Luka. The whole time, I felt like..."
"Like what? Go ahead, get it off your chest."
I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. "This vision felt weird. It was like someone else was there with me. Someone watching the whole vision unfold, someone's presence I couldn't focus on
no matter how hard I tried. I know it's crazy, but I can't shake this feeling that someone was piggy-backing me into my vision. What could it mean?"
"You haven't said it was a fated vision. But even if it were, we now know you can change someone's fate, given the right circumstances, and that you recognize those circumstances now."
I blink twice, then nod. He's right—it wasn't a "fated vision." And like Talon had, he just acknowledged that I'd changed someone's fated death. Somehow, having them say it makes it real in a way that actually doing it had not.
"But I killed Talon. How could I do that? Do you think... Does it mean I'll join the other side? Can anyone trust me, now?"
At this, Luka laughs. He actually laughs. Instead of being upset at that, I lean forward, eager to hear what's so funny. It might be a flimsy lifeline, but his laughing tells me there's another way to look at it.
"Don't be ridiculous. There could be a hundred reasons to kill him. And it's not fated that you will. Most of those reasons, by the way, have nothing to do with you betraying anyone. For all we know, he asks you to, and was only surprised that you could. Although the circumstances that could make that possible are kind of frightening to consider, we've all seen the impossible happen, lately. Dawson, Luna, the Shades and Wraiths merging, deposing the Wraith queen..."
"Maybe you're right." I force myself to smile, and set aside the towel I'd been using as a security blanket. Enough of that self-pity, at least for now.
Luka grins at me, this time a genuine smile. "There's the Mirella we've come to know and love. Now get up and go tend to Talon. He needs your support now more than ever. Way more than you need mine, at the moment."
Cursed Seer Page 8