The Vaticinator

by Namita Singh

become his patented weapon against me.

  “Please.”

  I loudly sigh, not hiding my annoyance at his request. He knows he has me trapped.

  “Why can’t you just tell me?” I snort.

  “Just…trust me, okay?” he says, raising his hands in front of him to emphasize his exasperation.

  I don’t get to reply to him. My mind gets distracted by therian auras advancing towards this room. I get up, startling Neal. But I ignore him and walk towards the door just in time for it bang open. I take a step back in surprise, but my lips twitch into a smile when I see its Aakir. Only problem is, Aakir doesn’t seem very happy.

  “Fuck, are you guys dumb?!” Aakir snaps angrily, marching inside, past me.

  “Hello to you too.” Neal responds dryly.

  “Seriously, guys. What the fuck? You are not supposed to be here.” He says, glaring from Neal to me.

  “Hey,” I raise my good arm as a mocking gesture for peace, “I am not the one with the brains.”

  “Wow, thanks, Lichinsky.” Neal retorts.

  “Okay,” father, who enters behind Aakir, says, “Calm down everyone. Remember, what’s done is done. Stop fighting over it.” With that, he walks towards Neal and hands over the scabbard to him. Neal gingerly holds the weapon, looking utterly unsure.

  Aakir jumps from his one foot to another, still glaring at us, “But, seriously guys?” he starts again, “What the-”

  “Aakir.” Father interrupts, his voice stern.

  Aakir immediately shuts up. Thankfully it seems he won’t be reprimanding us more. Not in front of father and Mikhail at least. A few moments pass. Mikhail travels to the windows and looks outside at the darkness. Aakir subtly tries to abuse me, glaring and cursing in hush whispers so father won’t hear. I roll my eyes at him and point at Neal every time. Father, ignoring the two of us, begins to talk with Neal quietly. With Aakir distracting me, the only things I can grasp is father’s reassurance to have Neal’s back if things go astray. Neal is nodding to him, beginning to look much anxious as the moments are going by.

  A heavy silence falls as we sense therian auras approaching the room we’re in. Neal, the only one out of us who can’t sense auras, looks around at us with a confused expression. Father silently points at the scabbard in Neal’s hand. Getting the hint, Neal looks around before settling to hide the sword on a chair hidden behind the table. Father walks towards the door to open it while I give Neal a pointed look. Neal narrows his eyes at me before rolling them away.

  “The flame has announced the arrival of our Occultists.” An unknown man says in thick Russian accent to my father as soon as the door is opened wide.

  “What?” Neal blurts in the distance. Hastily, he checks his watch.

  “Alright. We’ll be there.” Father, ignoring Neal, nods to the man. The man gives not so subtle glances at the rest of us inside before turning away and departing with the other man he had come with.

  There is an explosive silence as father stands beside the door he has just closed. Neal is the one to break it in his panicky voice.

  “Are they gone?” he asks father, referring to the therians.

  Father nods at him, probably focusing on how jittery Neal looks all of a sudden. Involuntarily, my stomach tightens uncomfortably at his anxious stance.

  “They’re here too early.” Neal blurts again, checking his watch. “It’s only eleven thirty!”

  “…Yes.” Father says with a pause as if he cannot guess what has Neal panicking all of a sudden.

  “Is there a time constraint?” Mikhail asks quietly from his position beside the window.

  “Yes.” Neal stresses, turning to him.

  “Why?” I ask.

  Neal gives me an exasperated look, wordlessly complaining about my constant inquisition. He turns back at Mikhail.

  “Isn’t there a way to delay it?” Neal asks.

  Mikhail steps forward, looking exceptionally grim. “It…” he begins, “..It usually takes up to ten minutes for the occultists to appear after the flame. The flame is just a warning bell so all the pupils get gathered together before their arrival. So…technically you have around ten minutes.”

  “Can those ten turn to thirty?”

  Mikhail blankly stares at him, “You need midnight?”

  “I would not know what to do before it.” Neal admits, fidgeting.

  Mikhail looks at father, past Neal. Neal looks from one to another as the silent conversation flows.

  Father sighs after a while, “You intend to make the Occultists wait?” he says in a tone that screams disbelief.

  “I don’t think being on time is going to put us in their good graces. How does it matter?”

  “Not being in their even bad graces?” father tries. “Also, we gave Ethan our word that we will not forsake the meeting.”

  “We’re not forsaking the meeting. We’re just delaying it.” Mikhail points out.

  Father hesitates but then runs a hand down his face in defeat. “Alright. Improvisation it is then, is it?” he asks Mikhail.

  “Let’s discuss that one on the field.” Mikhail says, walking forward towards the exit and motioning for father to follow him much to bewilderment.

  “You guys are leaving?” I ask, surprised.

  Mikhail doesn’t answer as he starts opening the door. Father sighs and turns towards me, “So is Aakir.” He responds.

  “Oh.” Aakir says beside me.

  “And Neal and I are to…to just sit here?” I ask, flabbergasted.

  “Boy, you amaze me.” Mikhail grunts while stepping out. He turns back, “There’s a small creek at the other side of the locality. A sequestered creek at this point of time if I have to take a wild guess.” He looks at the table behind which the chair containing the sword rests. “If you guys are clever enough to come here so boldly then you should be clever enough to remain unscathed for another half hour.”

  Without another word, Mikhail and Father leave with Aakir scurrying after them after giving us uncertain looks.

  I feel my hands trembling as Neal and I are left behind. This is, is so screwed up, I am having difficulties in digesting what is occurring anymore. Neal walks over to the sword as I silently fume. He takes me by surprise when he comes to me and hands over the scabbard.

  “I think this is meant for you for the time being.” He says.

  Slightly shaking (I don’t even know the trigger behind my sudden paranoia), I hold the scabbard in my good hand. Uncertain, I look at Neal, “What?” I drawl, “So, my aura is now masked with this scimitar, but so what? Is it going to make the both of us invisible as we climb down the stairs and out of the gates of the mansion to that creek? A creek? For god’s sake.”

  Neal sighs, stepping back and walking towards the windows. “I don’t think that’s the million dollar question.” He mutters while stepping up to the panoramic window which, now that I notice, is wide open. Wasn’t it closed when Mikhail stood behind it? As Neal runs his hand on the side of the frame of the huge window, that’s when I realize that Mikhail, unsuspected, must have opened this window before leaving. And with that revelation, it dawns on me how we’re supposed to move out of here without coming in front of prying eyes.

  Neal turns towards me, his hand uncertain on the edges of the frame, but his face is surprisingly marked with annoyance. A big contrast to the panic of just a few seconds ago. “The million dollar question is that how in the world your grandfather believes that a non-therian and a therian with a broken arm can jump down a second storey window unscathed.”

  I sigh. A million dollar question indeed.

  28.The Finale

  Never in my wildest dream could I have guessed that Neal is acrophobic.

  Now he walks by my side, hiding the lingering spots of the panic attack that he just underwent. He is ridiculously embarrassed, I can sense it. I don’t blame him. I will crawl under the blankets too if someone witnesses me as terrified to the point of unable to walk.

 
The twenty feet drop hadn’t been a hassle to me, even with my one arm in a sling. The vines creeping up and down the walls contributed greatly towards my more than easy journey towards solid ground. It should have been a cake walk for Neal. But his acrophobia decided to make itself known. Ten, almost fifteen minutes were spent with me hissing from the ground, persuading Neal to take the leap of faith while he continued to tremble at the window, his eyes turning glossy. Pushed by our unfortunate predicament, Neal gathered enough courage to climb down the vines. Only to be grasped in the clutches of a vicious panic attack when he looked up at the height he just dropped from. God knows how I managed to drag him towards the creek.

  Somehowthrough a series of ‘calm down’s’, ‘count to ten’s’ and ‘how many fingers do I have?’s’, I manage to make Neal breathe a little steadily. He has been silent since. Even now as after several minutes we make our way back towards the backyard where the Occultists must be awaiting us, he is as silent as the night tonight.

  The silence doesn’t last for long though. As we near the backyard, the harsh sound of people arguing reaches my ears. There are too many people talking, making it difficult for me to discern the voices. I faintly make out the steadily growing voices of my father and Ethan. By the time I start sensing their auras, more people start talking. They have also obviously sensed our auras as we walk. Once we enter the backyard there are abrasive conversations going with many faces glaring at our entry. I heave a heavy sigh and hand over the sword to Neal who grasps it silently.

  “Where the hell were