The World of The Gateway Boxset

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The World of The Gateway Boxset Page 59

by E. E. Holmes


  “You can understand our confusion, Hannah,” Celeste said. “The Shattering happened here in the castle, and you are the only Caller at Fairhaven. There must be a connection somehow.”

  Hannah shrugged, looking bewildered. “I have no idea what it is. I’m sorry Celeste, but these words make no sense to me.”

  Keira leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her. “No one blames you for mistrusting the Council, Hannah,” she said, and it was clear she was endeavoring to keep her tone sympathetic. “We all know that our decisions toward you have not been fair in the past. Many of those decisions were motivated by fear and misunderstanding. But is it possible that your mistrust is preventing you from telling us the truth right now?”

  Hannah’s eyes widened. “No. No, of course not.”

  Keira looked at Celeste, who sighed before turning to Hannah.

  “It is my duty at this point to remind you that lying to this Council is a crime under our by-laws,” Celeste said quietly.

  “I’m not lying!” Hannah cried, her eyes filling with tears again.

  I stood up; every inch of me seemed to be vibrating with suppressed rage. “My sister is not a liar.”

  “No one is calling her a liar, Jessica,” Celeste said, a warning in her voice. “But fear is a powerful motivator, and if Hannah is afraid to answer us truthfully—”

  “If Hannah is afraid to answer you truthfully, it is your own damn fault!” I shouted. “She should never have to answer to anyone in this room ever again after what happened to her. You want to talk about fear being a powerful motivator; you should all look in the mirror! Every one of you sat there three years ago and let your fear drive us to the brink of destruction! Don’t you dare talk to us about fear! Don’t you dare talk to us about honesty within these walls!”

  That was the line, and I’d crossed it. A general outcry rose from the Council benches as well as the knot of spectators. All around us, angry voices rose in response to my words. The Caomhnóir on either side of us shifted their postures as though awaiting an order to seize us. Finn, in turn, took a decisive step closer to Hannah and me, so that I could feel his physical presence directly behind me. The only person who appeared unconcerned was Fiona, who was shaking her head and laughing as she picked dried paint from underneath her fingernails.

  “I request a call for order,” Celeste shouted over the noise. She was looking all around for the gavel Siobhán had used in the first session of the Airechtas, but couldn’t seem to locate it. “This behavior is out of keeping with Council guidelines.”

  The words, “Fuck your guidelines!” were halfway out of my mouth when Hannah laid her small, cool hand on top of mine and silenced them. I looked over at her. She had stopped crying. Her expression was determined.

  “Permission to speak,” Hannah called over the commotion, and I heard her master the tremor in her voice.

  At that moment, Celeste found the gavel inside the podium and hammered it upon the wood several times, silencing everyone in the room. “Permission granted, Hannah, although this is not a formal session. It will quickly turn into a formal session, however,” she called warningly over her shoulder to the benches, “if we cannot maintain order and civility.” She turned back to us and let her eyes linger on me for a moment, a silent warning. I bit my tongue.

  “I understand why you have all called me here. I am happy to help in any way that I can. I already offered my abilities to search for Shards within the castle, and I will continue to cooperate in whatever capacity you can use me. That said, I am telling you the truth. I do not know who the Shattered spirit is. I don’t know what these words mean. I cannot force you to believe me. I can only promise you that I am not misleading you out of fear or mistrust—or any other motivation, for that matter.”

  “Not that I’m any kind of expert, but it’s my understanding,” Fiona said from the back row, “that these Shards are in a state of profound confusion. Is that correct, Mrs. Mistlemoore?”

  “Yes, it is,” replied Mrs. Mistlemoore, who had thus far been silent. She had deep purple rings under her eyes.

  “And so, it would be reasonable to suppose,” Fiona went on, still picking away at her fingers, “that the information and clues we gather from these Shards may be a load of tosh?”

  Mrs. Mistlemoore cleared her throat. “The things they say will arise from their state of confusion, if that’s what you mean.”

  “What I mean,” Fiona said, looking up at last, “is that we have no idea what this spirit is referencing. Certainly, it could be talking about Hannah. But why do we assume this? True, she is the only Caller in this castle at the moment. But what spirit lives in the present? Most of them live in the past. This spirit could have lived a hundred, even a thousand years ago. Why do we assume then that this spirit is speaking of a Caller who is alive and in the castle right now?”

  People were shifting in their seats and trading looks.

  Fiona continued. “It’s been my experience that spirits fixate on the circumstances surrounding their deaths. Maybe this spirit died at the hands of a Caller, or perhaps as the result of a Caller’s actions. Hannah, have you murdered anyone since arriving here three days ago?”

  Hannah looked startled, then cleared her throat. “Uh, no. No, I haven’t.”

  Keira rolled her eyes. “Fiona, no one is suggesting that Hannah killed anyone.”

  “But you are accusing this poor girl of something devious, even though you’ve no clear reason for doing so!” Fiona shot back.

  “We’re not accusing—”

  “Then what the bloody hell is she doing here? Why not just sit her down with Mrs. Mistlemoore in the hospital ward and hash it all out? Why do we have to make a show of power just to let the poor girl answer a few questions?” she asked. “Why are you dragging me down from my work to victimize her? And why the bloody hell did we let them in here, circling like vultures hoping for a fresh carcass?” She cocked her thumb over at Marion and her group of spectators, all of whom had gone stonily silent.

  “It’s how things are done,” Isla said with dignity.

  “Well, how things are done is rubbish,” Fiona replied.

  “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 tha
t 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.”

  41

  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 y
ou—”

  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.”

 

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