Plague of the Shattered

by E. E. Holmes

  “What is your point, Fiona?” Celeste asked quietly.

  “My point is, I’m done with the bloody witch hunts. I won’t be dragged down here again for this kind of shite,” Fiona said, and rose from her seat. She started walking down the rows of benches.

  “Fiona, the Council has not been dismissed,” Celeste called after her, the frustration clear in her voice.

  “I’m dismissing myself,” Fiona shouted back over her shoulder. “I look forward to the sanction or the written warning, or whatever bloody else you slap me with for walking out.”

  Celeste passed a hand over her face and took a long, deep breath. “Very well. If Hannah has nothing left to tell us, I would like to move that she be dismissed.”

  No one replied. Celeste looked around, confused. “Someone needs to second the motion,” she said.

  Again no one spoke. No one would look her in the face.

  Finally, Isla stood up. “I am not satisfied that we have been given honest responses to our questions. I would like to move that Hannah be detained until conclusions can be reached regarding this matter.”

  “Seconded,” Keira added. She was looking anywhere but at Hannah.

  I stood to object, but Milo beat me to it. “What the hell does that mean, ‘detained?’ You just finished telling us that this was not an arrest. Are you walking that back already?” he asked. His anger was so intense that his form seemed to crackle with it.

  “No, we are not,” Celeste said, and she turned back to the other Council members, a warning look on her face. “Isla, you will kindly clarify and explain your motion.”

  Isla, who was still standing, raised her chin. I saw her eyes dart, for the briefest of moments, in Marion’s direction just before she answered. “It is essential that all elements of this Shattering be entirely contained. It may very well be that Hannah is not the Caller that the Shards are referring to. But if she is, and if we need her to be a part of the process of expelling the Shattered spirit, we need to ensure that we have access to her.”

  “I’m not going anywhere!” Hannah said, her voice cracking with fear, though I could tell she was trying to hold it together. “I already told you I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

  “Fairhaven is under lockdown,” I added, hiding my anger about as successfully as Hannah was hiding her fear. “She can’t go anywhere anyway. None of us can.”

  “I agree,” Celeste said. “This motion is redundant.”

  Isla widened her eyes innocently. “But you saw what happened even now. We invited Jessica to be here for this meeting, and she could not be located. Who knows how long it might have taken the Caomhnóir to find her if she had not returned of her own accord? We cannot risk the same thing happening if it turns out that Hannah is an integral part of the Shattering. We need to know where she is.”

  “We cannot detain a Durupinen in our dungeons without formal charges,” Celeste said, and her own anger was rising now, bringing color to her wan complexion. “Some of us in this room ought to remember what happened the last time we tried to do such a thing.” She shot a fierce look over at Marion. Her motion to remove Finvarra as High Priestess and lock her in the dungeons was the reason Marion no longer had a Council seat. Marion did not reply, though a suggestion of a smile played about her lips.

  Isla, however, hoisted a look of horror onto her face. “I would never suggest that poor Hannah be relegated to our dungeons. I am merely suggesting she be confined to her room until we can clear up this situation.”

  “I repeat, I do not think such actions are warranted in this—” Celeste went on, but Keira cut her off.

  “I agree it is a necessary precaution in this unpredictable situation,” she said. “It would be in Hannah’s best interest as well. If the Shattered spirit does believe it has been somehow betrayed by Hannah, we ought to detain her, for her own safety as much as anyone else’s. The Shards might seek her out or look to attack her.”

  I laughed mirthlessly. This last point was a ridiculously transparent pretext, but the other Council members seized upon it gratefully, relieved to have a benevolent excuse for jumping on board with Isla’s motion. There were concerned expressions and nods of approval all around the benches.

  “I move that the Council vote to detain Hannah in her chambers until such time we can determine that she is in no danger from the Shards, or that we determine she is not the Caller referred to in these documents,” Isla said.

  “Seconded,” Keira said.

  Celeste closed her eyes and flared her nostrils. She had no choice. “All in favor?”

  Hands rose all around the benches. Every single hand, except for Celeste’s.

  “Very well. Motion carries,” Celeste said in a tone of suppressed rage. She turned to us and spoke in a carefully measured voice. “Hannah, though it was merely my hope to ask you a few questions, it is the will of the Council that you remain confined to your room until further notice. We will assign a Caomhnóir to this post, so that Mr. Carey can continue his regular duties. Meals will be brought to you, and I will send regular updates to keep you informed on our progress.”

  “Celeste, this is insane and you know it,” I said quietly.

  “My hands are tied, Jessica,” she said. “The Council has spoken.”

  “Oh, really? Well the Council are cowards,” I said. “Every single one of you.”

  16

  The Familiar Stare

  “IT’S MARION. It has to be. This has her fingerprints all over it.”

  Though I could leave any time I wanted to, I was pacing our room like a caged animal. Hannah sat in the chair in front of the fire, watching me.

  “Marion?” she asked, looking surprised. “How can she have anything to do with it?”

  “Oh, come on, Hannah, I know you’re not that naïve,” I said. “She’s had it in for us from the beginning.”

  “I know that, but what part of this do you think is her fault?” Hannah asked. “Do you think she Shattered a spirit and framed me for it? I mean, she’s awful, but that’s pretty far-fetched.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think she had anything to do with the Shattering. But you know her friends are still all over that Council. She knows everything that’s going on, even if she doesn’t have a seat anymore. She told Isla to have you locked up, I would bet my life on it.”

  “But why?” Hannah asked. “When they figure out that the spirit has nothing to do with me, everyone will realize it was a mistake. So, what would be the point?”

  “It’s Marion,” Milo chimed in. “Does she need to have a point? I think she just likes destroying people.”

  “I think she saw an opportunity to get us out of the running for that Council seat, and took it. Even if it turns out that the spirit was referring to another Caller, the damage will be done. No one is going to waste a vote on someone who spent half of the Airechtas under house arrest,” I said.

  “I think it’s a risky thing to do when you’re trying to clean up your reputation,” Hannah said thoughtfully. “Jess, for goodness sake, sit down! You’re making me nervous prowling around like that!”

  I flopped into a chair, pulling the elastic from my hair and letting it fall all around my face like a curtain I could hide behind. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left the castle.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Jess, they would have questioned me whether you were there or not.”

  “Yeah, but if I hadn’t taken off into the grounds like that, they wouldn’t have been able to use it as an excuse to keep you here,” I said miserably. I shot a furtive look at Finn. I was selfishly glad that his face looked stricken as well. At least I wasn’t alone in my guilt.

  “Jess, it doesn’t matter. They would have suggested it anyway. They’re scared of me, just like they always have been. People don’t think rationally when they’re afraid,” Hannah said, with a sigh. She looked so tiny, so forlorn curled up in her chair that the idea of anyone being afraid of her in that moment was laughable.


  “Okay, so we need to be the rational ones,” Milo said, floating to his feet. “If the Council is acting out of fear, then we need to be logical, and figure this out.”

  Hannah laughed a sad little laugh. “What can we possibly figure out that the entire Council, the hospital staff, and an army of Scribes haven’t already discovered?”

  Milo crossed his arms, looking truculent. “Maybe nothing. But you’re Trackers now, and that means you have every right to investigate this situation. The Council is not handling this objectively. They are operating with a bias, and that means they are missing something.”

  “How do we know I’m not missing something?” Hannah asked. “I’ve encountered more spirits than I can possibly remember. How do we know one of them didn’t feel betrayed and cause this whole mess?”

  I shook my head. “No. No, this isn’t about you. Something else is going on here. And I have no idea what it is.”

  I crossed over to my bed and flopped down on it, feeling defeated. I couldn’t believe we were here again—at Fairhaven, at the mercy of the Council. Hadn’t we been through enough? Wasn’t there some kind of limit, some kind of quota of misery that a person could fill, and hadn’t we filled it already? Wasn’t this the point—after disastrous childhoods, after seventeen years of separation, after the catastrophe of the Prophecy—that we were allowed a free pass? Surely it was someone else’s turn to take the hits on behalf of the spirit world.

  I rolled over onto my stomach, determined to bury my head in the pillows and not resurface, when I glanced past the edge of the bed and locked gazes with a deep, dark pair of eyes.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Jess? Are you okay?” Hannah asked.

  “Oh, my God!” I repeated unable to look away from the eyes, which were staring up at me from the floor.

  “Jess, what are you—”

  But I had leapt from the bed and dropped to my knees on the rug. There, peeking out at me from under the bed where I had stashed her, was the occupant of the spirit drawing I’d created our very first day at Fairhaven.

  “This is her,” I whispered.

  “This is who?” Milo asked, blinking into being right beside me.

  “This is the Shattered spirit!” I told him.

  “What?” Finn asked, dropping to the ground beside me.

  “Jess, what are you talking about?” Hannah cried, jumping up from her chair and coming over to join us in the huddle around my sketches.

  “I’m talking about this!” I said, smacking the paper with an impatient gesture. “I knew it! I knew when I looked into Catriona’s face and saw those eyes looking back at me that I had seen them somewhere before. These were the eyes. This is the spirit that has been Shattered.”

  “Who is she?” Finn asked. “Have you met her somewhere before?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea. She came to me in my sleep. She didn’t leave me any clues except these images.” I pulled the second drawing out from under the first. The same haunted eyes gazed up at us from the second picture. “No name, no requests. Just these.”

  “We need to get them down to the Council,” Finn said eagerly, standing up.

  “No!” I shouted.

  He stopped already halfway to the door, and scowled at me. “No?”

  “I know that they’re leading this investigation, but I don’t trust them, not after today,” I said.

  “Jessica, this information might help them discover who the spirit is,” Finn said.

  “I’m with Jess on this one,” Milo said. “I don’t want to hand them any information until we know what it means.”

  “What do we do with it, then?” Hannah asked.

  I thought for a long moment, and then the answer hit me. “Fiona. We take it to Fiona. No one knows more about spirit drawings than she does. We take them to her and see what she suggests.”

  “Fiona’s still on the Council,” Finn pointed out.

  “You heard what she said before she stormed out of that meeting,” I said. “She doesn’t want anything to do with their witch hunts. She’ll help us figure out what to do, and who we can trust.”

  Milo snapped his fingers. “I like it.”

  Hannah bit her lip, but nodded.

  I stood up, rolling the pictures together into a tight scroll.

  “You’re going now?” Finn asked blankly.

  “Yes, of course I am!” I cried. “What the hell would I be waiting for?”

  “I can’t come with you until the next Caomhnóir arrives to start his shift here with Hannah,” Finn said. He threw a guilty half-glance at Hannah as he said it.

  “So, stay here,” I said impatiently. “Milo can come with me, right Milo?”

  “But I need to protect—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Finn, just back off!” I cried. “Milo will be with me. Everything will be fine. I’m not waiting around for another Caomhnóir to show up. We are losing time here, and the sooner we find out who this spirit is, the sooner we can end this nightmare. When the new Caomhnóir shows up, meet us up in Fiona’s studio.”

  I pushed past Finn, refusing even to stop to hear his protestations. When I turned back at the door, I avoided looking at him, and addressed Hannah instead. “We’ll use the connection to let you know what Fiona has to say. Don’t tell anyone that’s where we’ve gone. It’s probably better if no one knows about these drawings until we have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

  “Good luck!” Hannah called after us as I pulled the door shut.

  Milo and I set off down the hallway. There was a new edge to my awareness now; before, I had been on constant alert for the presence of a Shard, but I had been fearful of it. Now I was silently begging a Shard to make itself known. Perhaps if I confronted it with its own identity it could be controlled, mesmerized by its own image.

  Come and find me, I thought. I know what you look like and soon, I’ll know your name.

  “Jess, are you okay?” Milo’s voice broke through my silent challenge. I turned to find him looking intently at me.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said shortly. “I just… I kind of lose it, when people come for Hannah. I lose what little ability I have to stay rational.”

  Milo laughed grimly. “Girl, you are preaching to the choir over here. I just thought there was something else… with Finn?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that right now,” I said. The words were thick in my throat. I’m not sure what I let show on my face, but Milo didn’t press me. I couldn’t have answered him even if he had. We had just reached the base of Fiona’s tower and I was going to need every molecule of oxygen for the climb.

  I didn’t stop to catch my breath at the top of the stairs, but stumbled straight over to the door and started pounding on it. The Caomhnóir stationed outside of it didn’t even blink. Evidently, he didn’t care who we were or what we were doing there as long as we weren’t Shards.

  “If you want me back in that meeting, you’ll have to break that door down and drag me out by my ankles. And I warn you, I’m a biter,” Fiona shouted in reply.

  “Fiona, it’s Jess! Can you let me in? I need to show you something. It’s important!” I called back.

  There was a pause. “Are you alone?”

  “I’m with Milo, but that’s it.”

  Milo snorted. “That’s it. You should BE so lucky.”

  I ignored him. Then I heard some banging, a few crashes, and a stream of cursing before the door finally swung open.

  “Come in, then. Mind your step,” Fiona said, waving us in.

  Milo and I followed Fiona into the studio. She slammed the door behind her. The place was usually in a state of organized chaos, but today it was utter pandemonium. Papers and tarps were thrown over nearly every surface, and paint cans, brushes, pastels, pencils, and charcoal were scattered everywhere. The sight of the bedlam froze me for a moment.

  “Fiona, what’s… what are you working on in here?”

  “The same thing everyone else
in this bloody castle is working on; I’m trying to identify those Shards. I’m having tremendous success, as you can see.” She flung her arm out to embrace the mess, then grabbed an open wine bottle off her desk.

  “Fancy a nip? You look like you could use it,” she said, offering it to me.

  “Uh, no that’s okay. I’m good,” I said.

  “It’s coffee,” she said, shaking it at me so that it sloshed.

  “Huh? Oh, okay,” I said, and grabbed it, taking a large gulp before sputtering and coughing.

  “And whiskey,” Fiona added, taking the bottle back from me.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I choked.

  “Coffee and whiskey in a wine bottle,” Milo said, shaking his head and smirking. “Girl, you have elevated vice to an art form.”

  “Cheers,” Fiona said, and took another swig before plunking the bottle back onto her desk and settling her piercing, beady stare on me. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I’m too blinded by rage to accurately address that question.”

  “And your sister?”

  “She’s scared. And feeling betrayed,” I said. “Everyone keeps telling us we are welcome here, and every time, they prove us wrong. Thank you for sticking up for us in there, by the way.”

  Fiona clicked her tongue. “I’ve had it with the whole lot of them. If I wasn’t worried about what would happen without my voice, I’d quit the bloody Council right now. Shouldn’t have walked out when I did, but I can’t stand that kind of backstabbing. Celeste means well, but she needs to grow a backbone or the whole lot of them will just keep walking right over her.”

  “Did you say you were trying to figure out who the Shattered spirit is?” I asked.

  Fiona nodded. “I’ve been trying to connect with my gift. I’m opening myself up to communication, surrounding myself with media that might tempt a Shard to use me, but so far I’ve got nothing.”

  “You were trying to become a Host?” Milo asked in an awed voice.

  Fiona shrugged unconcernedly. “Why not? We can’t get rid of it until every Shard finds a Host. Might as well speed up the process, especially if I can produce some clues in the process. Fecking waste of time, as you can see.”