by Sin Ribbon
◊ ◊ ◊
His battered suitcase hangs open on the lavish bedspread. The dim light of a single table lamp is all that illuminates the bedroom. Like the bar, the space oozes Victorian class, an aesthetic that compliments Allister’s stack of leather-bound, philosophy books but clashes with his framed photographs of brooding cityscapes and tattooed models.
He throws clothes into the suitcase, tossing various toiletries into the mix with no concern for organization. An assortment of jeans and boxer briefs takes priority, which he smooshes on top of several wrinkled shirts.
Frantic, he assesses the packed items, taking a quick inventory, before storming out of the room and down the hall. The Kensington home is ornate but cold, the white walls almost antiseptic in their purity. Given the late hour, Allister’s parents have retired to their bedroom, but the Brit cares little for the etiquette of silence at a time like this.
Allister barges into Sebastian’s empty room, using the meager light from the hallway to guide him. He grabs a small family photo and gold watch from the dresser before heading back into the hall.
His brisk pace is interrupted when he notices the cracked door emitting a warm glow at the end of the hall. Curious, he pauses and decides to investigate, figuring one last conversation is in order.
The white, wooden door creaks open. Allister peaks inside to find a rugged old man sitting in a leather armchair, smoking a tobacco pipe and enjoying a glass of scotch. He has white hair and hard age lines, their depth belying a carefree soul laughing at the world’s problems. Glasses frame his deep-set blue eyes, which have faded to the color of the sky after rain. The dull lamps give him just enough light to read the open book resting in his lap. He skims along the words with vague interest.
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re still awake,” Allister chuckles.
“Allister! I thought that was you scuffling about. Come in, my boy.” He waves his hand to usher the blond into the room.
The study is lined with wooden bookshelves housing the works of dry philosophers, timeless classics, and a myriad of business guides and foreign language dictionaries.
Allister plops down on the leather ottoman across from the elderly man. “Actually, I’m glad you’re up. I need to talk to you.”
“About your father?” He snorts. “He’ll come around. Best leave it be for now.”
“Yeah, he’s an obstinate old sod, but it’s not about that. I’m going back to America. My flight leaves this morning.”
He straightens. “What? So soon?”
“Something’s happened ...” Allister wipes his hands over his face, trying to find the words. “I can’t explain, but Sebo needs me, and I need you to trust me.”
“I do, Allister, but this isn’t going to build any bridges with your father.”
“I know ... That’s why I’m asking you to help me by smoothing things over with dad.”
He takes out his pipe to laugh. “Me? And what do you expect an old fossil like me to do? Your father’s already reeling from your brother’s extended holiday in America.”
Allister chuckles wryly. “Believe it or not, he’s more ... agreeable when you’re around. Only reason I’ve made any headway with him at all.”
“Agreeable or not, Mason isn’t prying that stick out of his arse anytime soon.”
“Yeah, don’t know how he gets around with that thing, but I’m serious ... Grandad, you lived through the war.”
The old man raises an eyebrow above his glasses.
“You always talk about it with passion and vigor, a defining moment that changed you.”
“Well, I was lucky. When the bombs dropped ...” He shakes his head. “Moments like that teach you what’s important.”
“Exactly, and I’ve found something important in America, my own defining moment. Sebo too.”
“Allister.” He leans forward, incredulous. “What’s this all about?”
The blond groans as he drags his fingers over his forehead. “I wish I could explain. All I can say is that it’s important, and it’s worth all the trouble I know this will cause.”
“I’m afraid I’ll need more than that, lad.”
Allister sighs, relenting. “Something’s ... happening to me, to both of us. I think I’ve found where I’m meant to be. At university, I blazed through various majors. Never found a girl that truly set me on fire. I wandered aimlessly ... hating dad the entire way.”
The old man leans forward, giving the blond a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I know your father didn’t react ... well when you took ill. For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, but that grudge’ll eat you alive if you keep feeding it.”
Allister hangs his head. “... Yeah.”
His grandfather exhales, understanding. “So you’ve found something that gives you purpose?”
He nods. “I have, and we need time to sort it out. If we put it off, well ... hell is truth seen too late.”
The old man lowers his glasses. “Don’t you quote Thomas Hobbes at me, lad.”
Allister holds up his hands, conceding with a grin.
His grandfather takes a long sip of his scotch. “Fair enough. I’ll work on Mason, but you’d best check in often to appease him.”
“I can do that.”
“I swear, your troublesome nature is going to land all of our arses in the fire.”
The blond flaunts a wide smile. “It’s what I do.”
The old man chuckles, eyeing his drink. “You want a taste? Try it. It’s not much younger than you.”
Allister perks up. “So a thirty-year?”
He smirks. “Highland Park.”
“... I’m going to need more than a sip.”
~ THIRTY-SEVEN ~
Sebastian
“Thane?” Sebastian taps on his solemn friend’s bedroom door. In his hand, the Brit holds a plate with a roast beef sandwich and some baby carrots. “Orion made you some food.” He knocks again but hears nothing beyond the door.
“Thane? Mate, come on.” Silence. He sighs and thumps his forehead against the wall.
Sebastian moves into the kitchen and sets the plate on the counter. He glances at Orion who sits at the dining table, distracted by her phone. Figuring the coast clear, the Brit sneaks a bite of the sandwich.
Irritated tapping against the wood of the dining table sends a chill up Sebastian’s spine. Sheepish, he turns to find a pair of green eyes chastising him with a glare. He offers a nervous smile in apology, but his sincerity is lost on the fullness of his cheeks.
Orion sighs. “I take it he didn’t want any.”
“No. Still won’t talk,” Sebastian replies. He slumps, deflated.
She groans. “Go ahead and eat it then.”
He clears his throat. “In my defense, I haven’t eaten since we dragged him back. I’ll make him a new one. Promise.” The Brit snatches the homemade snack and eagerly devours it. “Jesus, why is American bread so sweet?”
As Sebastian gulps down the sandwich, he turns his attention to the living room. Riya sits on the couch, glued to the television screen with wide, anxious eyes. No sleep found her through the night. Madison dozes on the armrest beside her as a slumbering Sirius warms his feet.
Sebastian joins the pair in the living room, propping himself on the other armrest. Riya remains fixated on the TV, unreactive to his presence.
The Brit furrows his brow. “Riya, love. You’ve got to eat.”
She vaguely shakes her head, eyes still staring straight ahead. Newscasters continue to drone about yesterday’s bizarre catastrophe.
“Most troubling,” a female reporter begins, “is the lack of photos and video footage. Security cameras, traffic cameras, and even mobile phones supposedly disintegrated in people’s hands, leaving authorities with no idea how to put this puzzle together. Witnesses claim seeing friends and loved ones turning to ash, but what really happened in Pittsburgh? So far, three city blocks seem to designate ground zero, as emergency workers continue to comb
abandoned businesses and homes in search of survivors ...”
“Jesus, cameras too? Sneaky bastard,” Sebastian mutters. He takes a deep breath. “All right, that’s enough of the telly.” The Brit reaches for the remote and switches off the box. He takes Riya’s hand and pulls her to her feet, guiding her into the kitchen. Madison remains asleep, too exhausted to be roused.
Sebastian fixes a hot cup of tea and hands it to the trembling, raven-haired woman.
“I appreciate it, Sebastian, but—” A beep from her pocket cuts off her words. She fumbles to pull out her phone to check the notification.
The Brit catches a glimpse of the text, “You’re STILL in Pittsburgh?! Call me ASAP!”
“I gotta take this.” Riya sets the mug on the counter and returns to the living room, pressing buttons on her phone before putting the device to her ear. Sebastian hears a hysterical female voice on the other line, piling a mountain of questions on Riya.
“No, Cass ... No, I’m fine ... Yeah, it’s been pretty intense here.”
Sebastian sighs, disengaging from Riya’s conversation and turning his attention back to his still-grumbling stomach.
Orion exhales. “We’ve got plenty.”
“I’ll happily treat you in the future, Orion.” He grabs a baby carrot and begins munching.
Riya paces the living room while on the phone. Sebastian can’t discern whether the conversation is relieving her stress or adding to it. She brushes a hand through her black hair, repeating I’m fine and don’t worry. Her dark eyes glass with moisture, and her voice strains against a growing lump in her throat. Sebastian watches with heartbroken concern.
The Brit leans on the counter and crosses his arms. “We can’t keep sitting around, doing nothing. We need to find the other two I sensed with Siha and Thane while they’re still nearby. They’re not far outside the city.”
Orion sets her phone on the table and interlocks her fingers, meeting his gaze with a condescending stare. “Did you forget one of those two is a Fate?”
He narrows his eyes. “Obviously, I haven’t.”
“Look, it’s dangerous enough that Allister’s on another damn continent. If you go out there alone, that Fate might attack you, and if you take Mads, our Fates might attack everyone else.”
“It’s a risk, yes, but we need all the help we can get, or are you forgetting one of those two isn’t a Fate and might be able to alleviate the responsibility on Madison?”
The redhead huffs, shaking her head.
Sebastian moves to put his palms on the table and leans in. “I realize we’ve got enough worries, but I’d feel better if the Fates and those who can stop them were all in one place.”
She eyes him, relenting. “Fine, I get it. So what’s the plan? Drag all of us with you? Because it’s gonna take some serious smooth-talking to convince Thane to go outside.”
The Brit rubs his forehead. “I’m still working on it. The fact that Madison’s power wasn’t immediate is ... troubling.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“No!” Riya’s sharp interruption jerks Sebastian and Orion to her. “Stay there, I’m serious!”
The Brit and redhead exchange a nervous look.
“Because you can’t,” Riya continues. “Please, Cass. I know you’re worried about me, but you need to stay in Boston. I promise I have good people looking out for me here. Promise me you’ll stay there. Please.”
Sebastian hangs his head, defeated at his inability to help Riya, but a sudden knock on the front door jolts him from his ruminating anxiety. Awakened, Sirius barks to alert the group.
Riya whips to the door in a rush of panic. “Cass, I gotta call you back.”
Madison begins to crack open his eyes, still half-asleep.
Orion hops to her feet and strides for the door. “Relax, guys. I’m sure it’s just—” She opens the door to reveal Siha standing in the hallway. “Yeah, like I said.”
“Sorry for the intrusion, everyone.” The brunette enters the apartment, dressed in her usual blue jacket and full-length skirt. Sirius rushes to sniff her, wagging his tail with enthusiasm. She glances at her cello resting in the corner before giving the shepherd-mix a little pet and turning to greet the room.
“Hi, Siha,” Madison yawns. He pushes himself upright and rubs his eyes.
The petite cellist looks at each of them, presumably assessing their condition. “Not much improvement, I see.”
Orion slacks her jaw. “And that’s surprising?”
Riya steps forward as she holsters her mobile. “How many, Siha? How many died?”
The brunette firms. “Knowing isn’t going to help.”
“I need to know!” she demands.
The Brit moves to Riya’s side, resting a hand on her shoulder to console her. Madison climbs to his feet and offers the two of them a hug. The trio stand together, facing Siha in the wake of the impending news.
The clairvoyant sighs. “Five-hundred seventy-four.”
Riya cups a hand over her mouth and tucks her head into Sebastian’s and Madison’s mutual embrace.
Madison squints to fight back the weight of the realization. “H-how?”
“There were more above us ... in the apartments,” Siha answers, her voice low.
Sebastian shuts his eyes as he holds Riya and Madison. His mind searches his memories for the wisdom of his older brother, wondering what Allister might say.
“How’s Thane?” Siha asks.
“About how you’d expect,” Orion retorts. Immediately, the cellist makes for Thane’s bedroom, but the redhead objects. “Don’t bother. He’s not talking to anyone.”
Siha halts and turns to the broken redhead. Orion stands with arms crossed and a furrowed brow. The two lock eyes for an intense moment before Sebastian elects to interrupt.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but there’s another matter at hand. The two others I sensed are still nearby. I think we should make contact.”
Siha whirls to the Brit. “I agree.”
“Whoa, wait.” Riya pulls away from Sebastian. “I thought we all agreed that we need to stay here to watch Thane and Orion. You’re not thinking of going alone, are you?”
The Brit breathes hard. “If I have to.”
“No way,” Madison argues. “Isn’t one of them a Fate? That’s crazy! I should go with you!”
Orion steps forward, protesting, “And leave Thane?!”
Sirius barks as if to voice his opinion as well.
“No, Madison should stay,” Riya affirms. “But if I go, I can at least read their thoughts, see if it would be a good idea to approach them and—”
Siha raises a hand to silence the group. “I think it would be best if Riya and Madison join Sebastian. I’ll stay here with Orion and Thane.”
The redhead throws up her hands with a groan.
“Are you sure?” Sebastian asks. He pushes past Riya and Madison to meet Siha’s mismatched eyes. Her resolve is uncanny; she stares, utterly calm even as the darkness of the unknown envelopes them.
“I am,” the brunette replies. “Thane and Orion will be all right here.” She holds up her pinky finger. “Promise.”
Sebastian shakes her pinky with his, half-smiling. “I’ll hold you to that.”
The redhead scoffs. “Unbelievable!” She storms up to Siha. “We’re just supposed to take your word for it? Because you sure as hell didn’t catch the last one!”
The clairvoyant remains silent.
Orion’s nostrils flare. “Be honest with me. Did you know what was gonna happen? Is that why you showed up out of the blue and asked Thane to go out?”
Siha exhales. “I knew, yes.”
Sebastian tenses along with Riya and Madison. None of them know what to say.
The redhead seethes with anger, her eyes watering. She grabs Siha by the shoulders. “Then how the fuck are we supposed to trust you?!”
“I don’t decide, Orion. The Fates do.”
“But how could you not warn us?! T
hane’s in there, inconsolable, and he’s ...” Orion’s throat tightens, constricting her words.
Siha lifts her hands, soothing Orion as she graces the redhead’s arms with her fingertips. “In this instance, it only would’ve caused stress and thereby given the Fate greater control.”
Orion flops to her knees, head hung with despair. “How can you say that? After what it did to him ...” A whimpering Sirius nuzzles against his master in support.
Siha kneels beside her. “Orion, I know it’s difficult to understand, but the Fate would’ve come sooner or later. I know what Thane experienced was soul-crushing, but it will strengthen him in the end. Believe me when I say sooner can be less devastating than later.”
The redhead looks up, squinting away her tears.
The cellist offers a somber smile. “Please trust me. I would never do anything to hurt any of you, but if I told you everything I knew right now ...” She shakes her head. “We need your fire. None of us are moving forward without you.”
Sebastian and the others move to comfort the women, each of them providing gentle strokes and pats to Siha and Orion.
The redhead wipes her eyes. “I still don’t get it, but either way, I need a break from this shit right now.” She pushes herself to her feet and moseys into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.
The brunette exhales in an effort to relieve the tide of emotion.
“Siha,” Sebastian begins. “I admit, your confession ... worries me. I want you to be open with us, but for what it’s worth, I do trust you.”
“I appreciate that, Sebastian.” She stands and smooths over her jacket. Sebastian notices her eyes wandering to check on Orion who downs her glass of water with urgency.
Madison interjects by giving Siha a big squeeze. “I trust you too. We’ll be back soon.”
Warmed, Siha returns the teen’s embrace. “I know. Be careful, all of you.”
“We will,” Riya responds.
Sebastian pauses. “Hold on. These two may be close, but they’re still several miles away. It’s quite a distance to walk.”
“Take my car,” Orion hollers. She grabs her keyring from the hook on the kitchen wall and tosses it to the Brit.