by Laury Falter
They knew now that they were looking at The Relicuum.
A quick glance at Turcott told me that he was almost giddy with vindication. Sartorius stood behind him, glaring from inside a ring formed by Turcott and a multitude of Vires. I noticed he no longer held the rope, but I knew he was keeping it with him. He wasn’t about to let anyone else seize it.
Jameson, who had raced to my side after being freed, now stepped in front of me, nearly blocking my view of Sartorius. I moved around him and stated, “Sartorius, you are wrong.” I watched with some feeling of triumph when the same nervous muscle twitched in his face. “No one will die tonight.”
With that, I took Jameson’s hand, prepared to channel his energy, and opened my mouth to speak.
“Stop her-” was all the time Sartorius had to speak before I shouted over him, drowning him out.
“Incantatio sana!” I shouted, my voice sounding more defiant than ever before.
When I heard Jameson’s broken ribs crack as they shifted back into place, I knew my effort was successful. The first sign that my healing incantation affected everyone else was the blinking eyes of the prisoners. As their sight returned, they repositioned themselves in stances meant to defend. This was because a squad of Vires was charging, and doing it with such force the ground trembled beneath our feet. They moved in unison, racing along the ground and through the air toward the cluster of prisoners, leaning their bodies forward and pumping their arms for momentum.
With the prisoners able to defend themselves now, Sartorius had lost control of his encampment, something he despised. At that, I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. As much as I knew it would taunt Sartorius, and as provoking as it was to our situation, elation took over, and I allowed myself a moment of defiant glory.
Sartorius’s repugnant glare, still directed at me, was beautifully chiseled in his expression, but I wasn’t finished yet. These people were wrongly imprisoned, used as bait to entrap Jameson and me, and I was going to make certain they left here alive.
The Vires didn’t make it very far, as it turned out. With my heart pounding so hard I could hear it thumping rapidly in my ears, I raised my palms at them, flinging them backward, just as I had done earlier.
When Sartorius sent two more squads, I repeated my motions. Then, Sartorius caught on, realizing his resources were rapidly dwindling, as he turned the rest of them on us.
With a swift motion of his fingers at the remaining Vires, a sea of black uniforms charged Jameson and me.
My hand was still in Jameson’s when he channeled, shouting over the roar, “You’re going to need help with this one.”
He gave me no time to anticipate or prepare. There was none to give. The Vires would reach us in only a few steps. I had just raised my hand again when the first Vire came within arm’s reach. Jameson’s energy, so clean and focused, raced through me.
The wave of black abruptly stopped short, and the Vires’ bodies collapsed to the ground, toppling and crumpling as if they were knocked unconscious.
I turned to Jameson, astonished. “What did you do?” Having never done anything remotely close to it, I knew it must have been him.
He grinned back at me. “I added a spark.”
I quickly recalled the use of it during Mrs. Gaul’s attack in the classroom and against our housekeepers in the cemetery and released a laugh under my breath. But there was no time to celebrate, not yet.
Two of them remained standing. Sartorius and Turcott stood side by side, and Theleo was beginning to rise from his spot on the ground.
I positioned my arms, which hadn’t fallen yet, in each of their directions.
Turcott took a tentative step back while the other two stayed firmly in place. Theleo stared impassively at Jameson and me, his shoulders raised in alert but not moving, while Sartorius appeared exhilarated. It was an odd reaction, in my opinion. Sartorius had just witnessed his entire defense collapse around him, yet, he didn’t appear to notice or care.
“She really is quite an object,” Sartorius remarked, seeming to speak to himself even though he was staring at me. This didn’t surprise me. I understood him now. Objects were all Sartorius saw. Everything was an object to manipulate to whatever goal he had in mind.
After his statement, the murmuring behind me began. The prisoners, every citizen in our world living within the New Orleans area, had just witnessed me heal them and work with Jameson to repel their attackers through levitation. Just as the Vires had before, this realization seemed to leave them stunned.
“She…she’s The Relicuum,” someone declared. “The Relicuum!”
Before the excitement could grow, Sartorius stepped forward and stopped within arm’s reach. Jameson saw him coming and sidestepped in front of me. From over his shoulder, Sartorius spoke, keeping his voice low enough that only Jameson, Theleo, Turcott, and I could hear. It was a private message, a warning designed to instill terror in me and, very likely, Jameson. Sartorius knew by this point he had lost this battle but he wanted to be very clear that he would do everything in his power to win the war.
“This isn’t over.”
“I didn’t think it was,” I replied, as casually as I could, considering my heart continued to pound feverishly in my chest. I wondered if Sartorius could hear it.
“We’ll be ready for you next time, too, Sartorius,” Jameson said, all formality and false respect gone from his tone.
“That would be wise,” he responded in a way that made me think he was telling us that they wouldn’t repeat their mistakes.
With only Turcott and Theleo left standing, Sartorius motioned for them to follow. However, Turcott didn’t make it far. Sartorius turned and used the same dagger he held against my neck, shoving it deep into Turcott’s chest. Turcott paused in shock, stumbling back, clutching his wound, as if he were trying to close the gap. It did no good. He took one more step to steady himself and collapsed, the blood from his heart soaking through his uniform and dripping from the hem. Sartorius was several yards away, now, and didn’t bother with the effort it would take to look back. With Theleo beside him, they levitated into the night sky and vanished in the darkness.
Gasps rose up around us.
I wasn’t nearly as surprised as the rest of the onlookers, who consisted of the Weatherfords, the Caldwells, our housekeepers, and Ms. Veilleux’s coven. These were the only ones who remained, the rest apparently deciding to escape while they could. Of the remaining crowd, I was the only one not to react to Sartorius taking the life of a notable Vire. I understood why. To him, everything was an object he could manipulate until their value expired. Turcott was no longer needed.
A few quiet seconds passed and I felt Jameson’s hand slip into mine. “We should go.”
I nodded, silently agreeing but taking time to briefly evaluate our surroundings. It humbled me. The faces around us were exhausted, but relieved. Behind them were the holding cells which detained innocent people who nearly lost their lives tonight. Swiveling my head around, I found the ground had disappeared. It now consisted of a carpet of bodies in black uniforms, stretching back to the edge of the river.
“It’s only a matter of time before they’re conscious again,” Miss Mabelle claimed, having discerned what I was observing.
“Right,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”
We left the Vires as they rested and headed for Aunt Lizzy’s house – the Caldwells, Ms. Veilleux and her coven included.
This time, there were no guards at our front door, for the first time in months, which felt incredibly liberating.
Our feet landed in the backyard just before the sun crested the horizon and I paused to watch it as everyone made their way inside for breakfast, sure that a discussion about tonight would become the hot topic.
Jameson noticed, his attention always being acutely focused on me, and stopped at the steps.
“You’re smiling. What’s on your mind?” Jameson asked, genuinely interested in what could make me happy after a night like this on
e.
“The sunrise.” I tilted my head toward the sky. “We made it.”
Jameson’s head turned to find the peach and orange streaks of a new day drawn out across the horizon.
He chuckled and said, “I hope Sartorius is watching it, too.”
I laughed with him, starting for the back door, but his hand caught mine. He moved to position himself in front of me and wrap his arms around my waist.
“You saved my life tonight,” he sighed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmured.
“That’s twice.”
I knew where he was headed with this conversation so I really wanted to pull away. There were two factors that stopped me, though. Jameson’s arms and my diminished will power.
“You didn’t take my life,” he pointed out. “You saved it, Jocelyn. Do you know what that means?”
“It means you’re alive…for now.”
He sighed in irritation. “Is this going to become a pattern? You save my life. I point it out. You ignore it.”
“Probably…yes.”
“Will you at least consider the possibility that those who foreshadowed our future might have gotten it wrong? It seems odd to me that two people so good for each other could end up with one killing the other.” When I didn’t answer, he persisted. “Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia said that only headlines were foretold. Anything could be possible in the details. The fine print is where everything changes.”
He made an excellent argument, and he could very well be correct. One aspect not included in his assessment remained, one I couldn’t ignore. As much as it hurt me to do it, I answered, “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Not yet,” he replied. “But I have a feeling this won’t be the last time you prove wrong the opinion about our fate.”
I opened my mouth to contest the use of ‘opinion,’ but he wouldn’t allow it.
“You will save my life again, Jocelyn,” he said, sincerely, as if there was no way to dispute it. His voice softened and my heart staggered, as he said, “And I will thank you again for it.”
Tears began to well in my eyes. I wanted to have his conviction. I wanted that security. I wanted to live a life with him blissfully unaware of our fate.
When the tears finally spilled, he gently brushed them from my cheeks, the feel of his touch making me tremble.
“It’ll be all right. You’ll see. It will be all right,” he declared, giving me a soft smile.
The tears came harder and he pulled me into his arms, comforting me with a warm, firm embrace until he no longer felt my sobs. He leaned back, just enough to see my swollen face and asked, “Ready?”
I wiped the last of the shine from my cheeks and nodded. A strong part of me wanted to delay the moment eternally. Eventually, though, I would need to pull away.
His arms dropped from my side, and I had to fight back the sudden feeling of vulnerability. He always made me feel safe, which didn’t seem fair to him. I was the actual threat.
Despite that, I must have looked feeble because his hand stayed at my back, guiding me up the stairs. The soft pressure taunting me, making me want to spin around and press my body back into his. Instead, I opened the back door and stepped inside the kitchen.
As we entered, the doorbell rang, chiming through the house.
“Who could that be?” muttered Aunt Lizzy, rising from her chair.
“No,” I told her. “I’ll get it.” It would allow more time for the redness to fade from my face.
“Thank you, dear.”
Estelle, however, was a bit more outspoken. “Probably another neighbor complaining about the Vires in front of our house. Tell them to have their eyesight checked ‘cause they’re gone.”
It wasn’t a neighbor, though. It was Theleo, buckled over, a stab wound to his torso, clutching The Rope of The Sevens.
21 DEFECTION
The silence that followed told everyone in the house something was wrong.
When no greeting or insolent diatribe toward a neighbor reached them, they were on their feet and at the door in seconds, with Jameson being the first one.
I was already ushering Theleo inside, despite the disgruntled resistance following me.
Amid the verbal hailstorm, I positioned him before the couch and he sank into it, drained of both vitality and blood. The red stream from his torso found its way to the fabric, starting a stain that would be a permanent reminder of this incident for as long as Aunt Lizzy chose to keep this particular piece of furniture.
“Ah,” she moaned, in annoyance. “How am I going to get that out?”
“I’ll stop it,” I muttered, tiredly. “I’ll stop it.” It didn’t matter. The couch was already ruined.
Nolan, who could always be counted on for compassionate remarks when needed, shouted, “Who cares about the couch! Did you notice we have a Vire sitting on it?”
“Yes, I did, and don’t you talk to me that way,” Aunt Lizzy retorted, ending with a displeased scoff.
“Right,” he quickly muttered. “Sorry.”
Returning to the issue at hand, Charlotte asked, “You’re going to heal a Vire?” Her tone was partly disgusted and partly insulted.
“I have to say, despite this being your home, I would have to agree,” added Mrs. Caldwell.
I could understand their perspective, especially with regard to this particular Vire. He had not only been guarding us for months, he had assembled his forces to kill us tonight. But there was one extenuating circumstance that led me to this course of action. Something few people in the room knew of.
“He saved my life once,” I explained.
That assertion made several pairs of eyebrows raise, and it also made Charlotte shut up. It also caused Theleo’s head to lift, searching for my face.
“Relax,” I said, placing my hand on his forehead and gently settling him back. “You’re about to be repaid.”
Keeping my hand where it was, I uttered my healing incantation and then dropped into a kneeled position to wait.
Theleo’s eyelids closed which said he was close to the end. A guard, having trained his entire life to be observant, diligent, and ready, wouldn’t close his eyes around his ‘assignments’ unless he didn’t believe he’d survive anyways.
There was no movement in the room for over a minute. I doubted anyone dared to even breathe. During that span, I wondered how many lives Theleo had taken and how upset his victims might be if they knew I was healing him from a mortal wound. This could have been their retribution, but I effectively ended that possibility. Once again, I detested my abilities and the yearning to use them.
“Jocelyn,” said Jameson, leaning down close to my ear. “It would be a good idea to move out of range of him in case he does survive.”
“No, I’m staying right here,” I replied, flatly. “I can heal myself.” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true, as I had just learned from Sartorius hours earlier. Regardless, the other reason was because I wanted a clear view of the man’s eyes while he explained his reason for coming. This desire outweighed any concern. Still, I did a quick pat down of Theleo’s body for any daggers.
“Uck,” mumbled someone behind me. I thought it was Estelle and, honestly, I felt the same way.
Jameson didn’t respond to my insistence of putting myself at risk, but he did stand directly next to me, ready for any offensive move from our enemy.
As the grandfather clock in the hallway sent six chimes through the house, Theleo’s eyelids fluttered. His chest, which had been still, began to expand, seizing its first breath in over a minute. After some struggle, his focus returned, and he found a room full of people staring back at him, none of whom were pleasant looking.
“I’m sorry for intruding,” he said, hoarsely.
“You bet you are,” declared Nolan, moving around the coffee table toward Theleo. “Now that you’re revived, I’m gonna kill you.”
Several hands stopped him, and I was thankful for the sensible peop
le in the group. Theleo had come here for a reason, and I wanted to know what it was.
Theleo, who seemed to believe the threat may provoke others, pushed himself to a more upright position…feebly.
“Thank you,” he said to me, sincerely appreciative.
“What are you doing here?” I replied.
“I am here for several reasons.”
“Start listing them,” said Vinnia, scowling with her arms crossed over her chest.
“One…” said Theleo, as he held up the rope he’d brought with him.
Several of the pieces of dried skin that bound the cable of hair were torn, which told us it was damaged in what was presumably a brutal struggle.
“I am returning this to its owner,” he said, lowering his head to clear his throat. “My apologies. Residual blood…”
His arm still held out The Rope, which felt to me like a peace offering. I wasn’t sure if I was agreeable to it, not after all that just happened. To ensure he didn’t think it was perceived that way, I wrenched it from his hand while demanding, “Where are your other Vires?”
“Not with me.”
“We can see that,” Jameson replied, angrily. “Where are they?”
“You are safe,” he said, getting to the point.
Several of those behind me jeered, disbelieving.
“Right,” mumbled Alison.
“And two? What’s number two?” asked Vinnia, remaining in her defensive stance.
His answer stunned everyone.
“I am defecting.”
“That means he’s giving up his allegiance,” Dillon explained. But he’d been so attentive on iterating his definition that he was the last one to grasp the true meaning. “Wait…what?”
“I have denounced my duty as a Vire.”
Jameson and I shared a glance, trying to determine if either one of us believed him. I didn’t, and judging from Jameson’s expression he didn’t either.
The best way to weed out a liar is to ask questions and catch them in their lie. Jameson apparently knew this because he took this approach.
“Is that why Sartorius stabbed you?”