Fireborn (The Dark Dragon Chronicles Book 2)
Page 10
I feel my mouth falling open. “Jack Pendragon took a bullet for me? But why? How?”
“His Physicality is legendary,” Zigs says. “Even at his age, he is faster than anyone in the world, including me.”
“Faster than a bullet, it seems,” Ingrid says wryly. “He knocked you out of its path before any of us could move a muscle.”
I stare at her, dumbstruck.
“The first bullet got him in the chest,” Zig says, “but it didn’t stop him. He was out of that room before the rest of us could even blink, determined to stop the attack. It took six more shots to take him down.”
“But… Why would he do that for me?”
“He didn’t do it for you,” Ingrid says sharply. “Never, ever make that mistake. That man couldn’t care less about you—all he cares about is the magic in your blood. He would do anything to protect that; he’s now proven it beyond a doubt. But beware, little one. If he could get to your power by slitting your throat and bleeding you dry like a slaughtered animal, he would do it in a second.”
My stomach makes a slow turn. “Can he get to my power that way?”
“No.” Her eyes flash a stark warning at me. “But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried.”
“He would never hurt her now,” Zig says. “And if you keep poisoning her against him, he’s going to die.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I am sure. One hundred percent. She’s his only hope for survival.”
“So you are loyal to him,” Gunn says slowly. “I wondered about that.”
“Loyalty has nothing to do with it. At this point the son is not nearly strong enough to take his father’s place
the grandfather my duty
slay
alpha
I grab my head, the pain like a jagged blade of fire through my skull. “Please! Stop!”
“There’s that too,” Zig says. “If he dies, she might be caught in that spell forever. The Earthkeeper is our only chance.”
“He refused point-blank.”
“She could make him do it,” Zig says.
“He’s right,” Gunn agrees. “He’ll do anything she asks.”
“Really?” I ask, intrigued. “Why?”
“There’s really no reason to burden her with this –”
“You need to stop keeping the truth from her, Ingrid.”
“Oh, so I’m the one keeping the truth from her.”
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I ask.
Ingrid and Gunn share a complicated look.
“The Earthkeeper was present at the trial last year,” Gunn tells me once Ingrid gives a reluctant nod. “Afterward, he got badly shine-struck.” He gives me a wry smile, “But unlike me, he hasn’t recovered yet.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’ll do anything you ask. He’s very much in your power.”
I look from one grim face to the other. “Is that bad?”
“You’ll have to see for yourself.”
Gunn takes out his cell, taps his thumb on the screen. “He’ll be here in a second.”
We wait in silence. After a few minutes there’s a hesitant knock, and then I feel my mouth dropping open.
Principal Sweeney is standing in the doorway.
I recognize him immediately even though he’s lost about half his body weight and shaved off all his hair since I last saw him. He’s dressed in a heavy black robe, like a wizard or a priest, and he’s staring at me with a terrible expression of ecstasy on his face.
“My Queen!” he cries as he walks into the room, as slowly and carefully as if he’s walking on an invisible tightrope, his eyes never leaving my face. Then he falls on his knees in front of me.
I take a small, uncertain step backward. “Um. Hi Principal Sweeney.”
“I do not deserve that title of respect!” He looks up at me, his eyes wet with tears. “I am just John now, and yours to do with what you will.”
Oka-a-a-y.
Now, Principal Sweeney and I have always had a difficult relationship. And with “difficult” I mean that I loathed and despised him, and he flat-out hated me. For most of my time in high school, he did everything in his power to make my life hell—detentions, exclusions, suspensions, you name it—and often for the most ridiculous reasons. Our unhappy relationship reached a peak last year when I found out that, on top of everything else, he was also an Earthkeeper who’d been spying on me all along. At the trial he told the Green Lord that I was reckless and thoughtless and talentless, and he recommended that I be taken from my keeper’s care and put under the Order’s direct control. That was the last time I saw him.
And now this.
When he bows his head, I widen my eyes at Gunn, helplessly raising my hands in the air. I have absolutely no idea how to handle this.
“Your Queen needs you,” Gunn says, shrugging apologetically when he sees my face. “She has a problem that only you can solve.”
Principal Sweeney bends lower, until his head is almost touching the floor. “My services are hers to command. As is my wealth, my power, and my life.”
“Um. Yeah. Okay. That won’t be necessary, thanks.” I’m so completely freaked out that gooseflesh breaks out all the way down my arms. “But if you could use your earthmagic to save Jack Pendragon, I’d really appreciate it.”
He looks up at me again, his face looking curiously naked without his comb-over. “You want me to heal the Outcast?”
“Yes, please. We really need him and –”
He doesn’t let me finish, grabbing my hand in an ecstasy of enthusiasm, his face beaming. “It would be my greatest honor! I would spend my last breath to make him whole again!”
“Um. Thanks. But you don’t have to go that far…”
“I’ll do whatever it takes!” His eyes fill with tears again. “I will spend every drop of my power to heal the Outcast, and I would ask for nothing in return. But if there was a chance, just the faintest glimmer of hope, that I could ever earn my Queen’s forgiveness…” He presses his forehead against my hand, then looks up at me with the saddest, most pleading puppy-dog eyes I have ever seen on a human being.
A shiver of horror trickles down my spine.
This is wrong. Just… wrong.
Sure, Principal Sweeney was a real jerk, but he was also a strong-willed, odd, unlikeable, unique, and forceful individual. The man who’s kneeling in front of me now is none of these things. He is an empty shell, someone who’s had his self forcibly ripped away by a power I don’t understand and sure as hell don’t want any part of.
I look at Ingrid, who’s resting her head against the back of the sofa, eyes closed.
I look at Gunn, who shrugs, raising his eyebrows at me.
I look at Zig, who stares back at me with his cold silver eyes, his face expressionless.
“Of course I forgive you,” I say. “And thanks for your help. It really means a lot to me.”
The worship and adoration that follows is insane. As in, the man is quite obviously completely batshit insane. When he finally leaves, bowing and scraping all the way, I let my breath go in a shudder, my heart racing as if I’ve just run a marathon.
Gunn, Ingrid and Zig are all watching me, clearly trying to gauge my reaction to what just happened. I take a few deep breaths, determined to stay calm in spite of the nausea clenching at my stomach. But my hands are shaking and I feel dizzy and feverish, as if I’m coming down with the flu.
“Did I do that to him?” I ask when I’m finally sure I’ll be able to keep my voice steady.
“Yes,” Zig says coldly. “You did.”
“Will he get better?”
“You want a better servant than that?” His upper lip pulls back in a disgusted sneer. “That man is your slave, heart and soul. What more can you want?”
“I don’t want him to be my servant! Or my slave! I want him to be normal again, like he was before.”
He frowns. “Wasn’t he your enemy before?”
�
��No!” I grab my hair. “Yes. No! I mean, sure, he was a total pain in the ass. And he did spy for the Green Lord. But he wasn’t an enemy enemy. He was just, you know, the principal. Sweeney. A normal person.”
Zig gives me a puzzled look before he makes that sign and starts mumbling again.
I turn to Ingrid and Gunn. “Will he get better?”
Ingrid sighs. “I’m not sure. To be that badly shine-struck, all these months later... And the shaved head and the black robe aren’t exactly good signs.”
“Why?”
“He wants to pledge his service to the Black Clan, but we haven’t initiated a novice in centuries. To be honest, I have no idea what we’re going to do with him.”
“There must be some way to fix him! If he’s really such a powerful Earthkeeper, can’t he Heal himself?”
“Maybe. But before he can do that, he must want to get better.”
“And he doesn’t?”
“No.” Gunn says, “I don’t think he does.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” I feel my throat closing up, thinking of those pathetic, puppy-dog eyes he made at me. “He was like… It wasn’t even him.”
“There’s a terrible pleasure in completely giving yourself up to someone else,” Gunn says, his voice softer than usual, his eyes not quite as bright. “It’s a sense of relief I can’t describe. Your identity, which you thought defined you, becomes unimportant because you no longer own your life. You are nothing, free in a way you never were free before. A slave to someone else’s will, bound to them and in constant need of them. There is happiness in that feeling, a deep, certain joy, but your happiness is not the priority. It’s their happiness that matters.”
I grab my hair again. “For God’s sake, Gunn! That’s like the definition of an unhealthy relationship.”
“I’m not denying that. I’m just saying it can be a difficult feeling to let go of.”
I’m struck by a terrible thought. “Are there more like him?”
“Everyone who attended the trial was affected in some way,” Ingrid says. “A shine as powerful as the one you lit up with that night hasn’t been witnessed for a very long time. Nobody was prepared for it.”
I put both hands over my mouth.
“There aren’t many who are still as shine-struck as John Sweeney though,” Gunn tries to reassure me. “I suspect he was so certain of your powerlessness that he didn’t put up any defenses until right at the end, when it was too late.”
“If you say there aren’t many…?”
Ingrid makes a vague gesture. “About a dozen, give or take.”
“A dozen!” My nausea returns, worse than before, as I imagine a dozen people reduced to the state I just saw Principal Sweeney in.
“Maybe a bit more. Twenty at the most.”
“Oh my God. I’m going to be sick.”
“Some of them might improve with time.”
“No really, I’m going to be sick!”
I look around desperately as I feel my insides heaving, then stagger to a potted plant in the corner where I throw up my breakfast in a painful stream of bitter bile.
Chapter 10
A true safehouse must be far from great bodies of water, so that the Seakeepers cannot dream its location. There must be little vegetation nearby, so that the Earthkeepers cannot find it through the memories of growing things. Furthermore, it must be protected from the gusts of the great winds, and that which Skykeepers know, as well as from the beating hearts of living people, and that which Bloodkeepers may learn…
From Elements of Knowledge: An Instruction into Selected Wisdoms of the Black Clan (1823);
translated from the original French by Genevieve Bernard (2006)
They decide to hide me away for a while.
The idea is to give me time to master my magic away from prying eyes and curious reporters and murderous Skykeepers. They’re also hoping, I think, that some time away from everything and everyone will help me deal with my sadness and guilt, which now include turning poor Principal Sweeney into a witless puppet.
Gunn and Ingrid are coming with me; Zig is staying. He needs to be at the Pendragon compound in case Jack Pendragon dies, for some reason that the Enthrallment spell I’m under won’t allow me to understand.
We leave town in the Pendragons’ private plane, without telling anyone we’re going. Gunn, it turns out, knows how to pilot a small aircraft. (Because of course he does).
I complain a little about not getting to say goodbye to my friends, but secretly I’m relieved that I won’t have to face them. Now that they’ve all seen the horrific video footage, I suspect Amanda isn’t the only one who will never look at me the same way again.
I get onto the plane without protest, even though nobody will tell me where we’re going. I don’t even get to pack a suitcase because we can’t risk returning to Ingrid’s home with all those reporters there. The entire process is so rushed that I literally leave with nothing but the clothes on my back.
Hopefully you can buy a toothbrush wherever it is we’re going.
As we board the plane from a small private airfield on the Pendragon grounds, I say goodbye to Zig because I’m a polite person and my mother raised me right. Predictably enough he doesn’t say anything in return. Instead he just watches me with those cool, cruel eyes, and then gives the briefest of nods before turning his back on me.
Before take-off Ingrid offers me a sleeping tablet, and because I’ve always been afraid of flying, I swallow it obediently.
I never even hear the plane’s engines starting.
*
They come from out of the darkness, radiant and beautiful and shining with joy.
“Our sister!” they sing, their voices a chorus more harmonious than any music. “You have come to us at last!”
I touch their shimmering bodies, smile into their glittering eyes. Their beauty is overwhelming: a force as tangible and irrefutable as gravity.
“We knew there was still hope!” they sing to me, their voices as sweet and pure as starlight. “We knew that one survived, in spite of what they told us. We could feel you in our hearts; we could feel you in our breath and our blood.”
I bask in their love and approval, glad to be with my own kind at last. They touch my neck and stroke my head. The cover me with kisses and laugh with joy. “How strong you are,” they sing. “How powerful and perfect!”
I delight in their perfection. They are exquisite, so unbelievably graceful. But they grow sorrowful at my compliments, shy and mournful.
“No,” they sigh, hanging their heads in shame. “Our beloved sister, you are wrong. We are broken. Damaged beyond repair.”
I argue, shocked and saddened that they cannot see how beautiful they are. But they shake their golden heads at me, their eyes heavy with sadness.
“Our magic is too strong and too broken,” they tell me. “Even the men we love cannot hear our voices anymore; we have become little more than empty shells to those we cherish most on this world. It is you who are perfect. It is you who will finally free us!”
They take me into their midst. They brush the tiredness and the fear and the shame from me. They call me their sister and I hold them close, so glad to finally be here, where I belong.
“Our sister,” they sing. “Our perfect sister. We did not lose faith and you finally came. Please, we beg of you, do not forget us once you –”
*
“Time to wake up, Jess. We’re here.”
I open my eyes reluctantly, overcome by a feeling of intense loss. I don’t want to leave them. Despite all their power, they’re so vulnerable and they…
My dream disappears in a slow, black swirl. I close my eyes again, groping on to the last shards of memory.
“Are you okay?” Gunn asks.
“I’m fine.” I open my eyes. “I just had this really intense dream.”
“About what?”
“I can’t remember. But it felt important.”
He narrows his eyes. �
��If Ingrid is right about you being in flux, your dreams shouldn’t concern you too much at this stage. True dreams are one of the deep skills of seamagic, and she’s assured me that you’re dead to seamagic now.”
I do my best to keep my face neutral. During the seamagic drills, I usually came so close to drowning that I kept losing consciousness; they had to resuscitate me after every single session. One afternoon, when I came to, I couldn’t even remember my own name.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess you could say that.”
“Oh, Jess.” Something in my voice must betray my thoughts because Gunn sinks down in the seat next to mine. “I hope you know I would never have allowed the drills if I’d known. Never.” His eyes are blazing despite his gentle tone. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Ingrid for what she did to you.”
The intensity of his gaze is too much to bear. I look away.
“I agreed to it, you know.”
“You couldn’t have known to what you were agreeing.”
“I wanted my power just as much as she did. More, probably.”
He puts his large hand on mine, very briefly, and when he removes it the lingering spot of warmth on my skin makes everything else feel cold. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. Believe me, I wanted to be.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do.” When I glance at him again, his face seems unguarded and vulnerable. Younger. “It was crazy. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Every cell of my body longed to be with you, every second of every day. Staying away was a torture I can’t describe. It was like –” He makes a vague gesture, searching for the right words. “Like denying yourself air when you’re suffocating. Or water when you’re dying of thirst.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
I bite my lip.
“I wanted to come back to you more than anything in the world. But I knew I couldn’t return until I’d broken your shine-hold on me. I wouldn’t have been any use to you like that. The last thing you needed was another slave.”
I have a sudden vivid memory of the look on Principal Sweeney’s face when he kneeled before me. The hopeless adoration. The complete lack of self.
“You…” I have to force out the words through gritted teeth. “You did the right thing.”