Seeker

by Veronica Rossi

  “Right. Lucky.”

  He smiles. I sit a few feet away and watch as he unpacks the linen bag.

  “Torin packed this, not Rayna, so who knows what we’ll find.”

  “Eye of newt and toe of frog,” I mutter.

  “Wool of bat and tongue of dog.” He smiles, waiting for me to pick up the next verse.

  “Sorry. That’s all I know.”

  He props his arms on his knees. “‘Adder’s fork and blind worm’s sting,’” he continues, affecting a macabre tone, “‘lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing, for a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth, boil and bubble.’”

  “Yum. Breakfast of champions. Is howlet an owl?”

  “It is indeed.”

  “And blind worm must be a snake?”

  “No. Blind worms are lizards with no legs.”

  “That makes sense. That’s why those were added separately—the lizard legs.”

  “No respectable brew is complete without them.”

  “There should be some soft ingredients in there for flavor balance, like butterfly wings and dove’s feathers.”

  His eyebrows rise. “You’d eat butterfly wings?”

  “Never. I don’t know why I said that. I love butterflies.”

  “A symbol of rebirth and resurrection, I might add.”

  “Subtle, Samrael. Real subtle.” I catch myself smiling. But if he’s good—if he’s really changed—then smiling is fine. Right?

  “This place likes you,” he says.

  That makes me laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it loves me. That’s why all these terrible things keep happening to me.”

  “Look,” he says, tipping his chin.

  Across the pool, the white flowers are shimmering. I remember this; it’s familiar from the first time I saw Mom. And from when she disappeared, washed away by the flowers.

  As I watch, the patches of flowers lift off the bank and take flight. It takes me a moment to see that they’ve formed a cloud of white butterflies. My heart climbs into my throat as they lift over the trees and circle in the dark sky, bright spots against the heavy clouds, eventually disappearing.

  Long moments pass before I feel composed enough to speak. “Butterflies should be symbols of hope, too.”

  “I agree,” Samrael says. “You said terrible things have happened to you?”

  I shake my head, thinking of the hauntings. “Not just to me. And not all of it has been terrible.” I think of seeing the red canoe. Mom’s couch. The begonias.

  “We don’t have to talk about it. I know what it’s like here. It’s one of the reasons why I want to leave.” I must smirk or make some sort of face, because he says, “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. It’s just that when you said that, I realized something. As much as I don’t like it here, wanting to leave isn’t the strongest thing I feel. What’s stronger for me is … wanting to be somewhere else. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It’s starting to. Tell me more.”

  Once again, distrust rears inside me like internal brakes. But this time, I can’t help wondering: Do I feel this because he’s a demon? Or is it just me? Is it my tendency to retreat, shut down, close up? “Well, it’s more about the things I’ve been missing.”

  “Which are?”

  Answer, Daryn.

  Why not? What do I stand to lose?

  “I miss hearing my sister laugh. I miss the hugs my mom gave me every morning, without fail. I miss having long conversations with my dad about my future, even though we never agreed. I miss Isabel, my friend. I miss Shadow. I miss school, driving a car, making milkshakes. It probably sounds stupid to you—such insignificant things. But I’ve denied myself them for a long time. So, that’s why I want to leave. So I can do all the insignificant little things that make life awesome.”

  I instantly feel ridiculous. It has to be the worst meaning-of-life statement ever made. And I can’t look at Samrael anymore, either. “Please stop looking at me like I’m an unsolvable riddle.”

  He shakes his head, saying nothing, but his gaze has turned serious. I have the strange feeling that what I’ve said has affected him—my silly little speech.

  We eat in silence that feels oddly companionable as the dark clouds rumble over us in the sky. When we’re finished, he hops to his feet. “Come. I want to show you something.”

  I stand, following him as he picks his way along the bank toward the waterfall on the far end of the pond. A light mist has begun to fall, making the river rocks slippery beneath the soles of my boots.

  We’re almost there when Samrael wobbles in front of me. His arms shoot out for balance, but his foot slides and he goes in, landing with a splash in knee-deep water. He seems so surprised by his own clumsiness that I laugh.

  He looks up, smiling ruefully. “Really? Is that how it is?”

  “That’s how it is.”

  He sets his other foot into the water. “No sense trying to stay dry now.”

  His progress wading through the water is faster and smoother. And the mist is turning into rain, so I’ll be getting soaked anyway. In about five seconds I’m convinced.

  I step into the water, too.

  The cool seeps into my boots and pants, chilling my skin. It feels real and exhilarating. By the time we reach the edge of the pool where the drop begins, my heart is thumping with adrenaline.

  I peer over the side and my stomach does a flip. We’re much higher in elevation than I expected. So high up, the woods below look like a blanket rolling out into the distance. Vast tracts are brown, marring the green like stains, and I remember the areas we passed where the trees were burnt.

  There’s a lot more of this kind of fire damage than I’d have guessed. Half of what I see. It spreads into the distance and encroaches on the hill where I stand. I think of Gideon. Whether he’s seeing any of this up close.

  “It’s dying,” Rael says beside me.

  Rael. Did I just think of him as Rael?

  “Some sort of blight,” he adds.

  “It’s from fire, isn’t it, Samrael? I’ve seen it up close. The trees are burnt.”

  “Yes. Scorched, but from the inside. There’s no warning. It affects tracts of land at random. I’ll wake to learn that acres have been destroyed. It’ll reach us here eventually. This entire place will be gone. Soon, if the pace maintains. It’ll ruin our crops, our gardens…”

  “Everything,” I say. “Everything will eventually be lost.”

  He nods.

  My stomach turns again. I haven’t loved it here—but to think of the Rift’s total annihilation? It’s chilling. “The people I just met—you said they wanted to stay. They’re all right with that? They’ll just accept starvation?”

  “I can’t make decisions for them.” He turns his gaze away, staring out into the distance. “And I’ve lost feeling in my feet.”

  I smile. “So have I. I’m freezing.”

  “Let’s go?”

  Before I can reply, the clouds break and rain comes down in great, heavy waves. We run back. After a few steps, a bubble of laughter rises in my throat. Running through knee-high water feels ridiculously slow and goofy. When I look at Rael and see him grinning, I can’t hold it in any longer. We look like we’re running in slow motion.

  We’re both laughing and completely soaked by the time we reach the bank.

  “Shelter here or run back?” he asks, water pouring down his face. He looks younger with his hair slicked to his head, his cheeks leaner, more sculpted. His build looks rangier.

  “Run back,” I answer. We take off, like a starting gun just fired, snatching up our things and sprinting back up the trail.

  It’s a slog. Muddy and slippery. The creek swells with water and overflows, flooding parts of the trail and forcing us to leapfrog in places. It reminds me of running track, timing my steps, launching over hurdles. My body and the terrain become my entire focus.

  As we reach the big stone house and barrel into the vacuous foyer, I’
m blissfully mindless. We stand inside the lamp-lit gloom, dripping and out of breath. Both of us smiling. I feel more carefree than I have in a long time.

  I think he feels the same.

  Then I remember that Gideon is out there in the woods.

  Alone, and in danger.

  CHAPTER 36

  GIDEON

  Finally, what I’ve been waiting for.

  A visit with my top worst favorite enemy, Samrael.

  He takes his time coming down the stairs and checks Riot’s cell first.

  Riot’s still weak, but standing. He snorts when he sees Samrael, and the two of them have a nice little stare-down.

  “Hello, Gideon,” Samrael says, coming over to me. “How’s your leg?”

  Better. Seventy percent, I think. But like I’m telling him that.

  “I’m supposed to be planning a search for you right now,” he says. His eyebrows rise. “Found you.”

  “Where’s Daryn?”

  “Upstairs. She’s convinced you’re out there,” he says, waving a hand toward the network of tunnels. “And she’s worried about you, naturally. But she’s fine. Unharmed.” He pauses. “Is that what you want to hear?”

  Of course it is. Even more, I want to believe it.

  “We’re off to a good start,” he continues. “I think I’ll have her full trust soon.”

  “If you hurt her—”

  “I won’t. I promise you. I like her, Gideon. She’s a mystery to me, you know. Unlike you.”

  I feel myself brace. Waiting for him to get into my head.

  “Besides,” he continues. “Harming her would be foolish. It wouldn’t get me out of here.”

  “You’re never leaving.”

  “I will, Gideon. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. I’ve spent long months waiting for her to show up. The gatekeeper. My ticket out of here, as they say. I’ve been trapped without her—that wasn’t supposed to happen. Ra’om had planned to bring her in here, knowing we needed her to come and go. But Bas’s heroic actions were unexpected. Quite a few unfortunate surprises that day, don’t you think? Neither one of us ended up with things the way we wanted them.”

  Thinking about Daryn in here for the past eight months almost makes me shudder. “Is that why you kept Bas alive? To use him as a lure? He was bait, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes. But I genuinely grew to like Sebastian. We became good friends.”

  “You think so?” I laugh. “Bas has no idea what you really are. Did he know the Harrows are yours?”

  “No, and neither will Daryn. Only you know.”

  “Lucky me. Do you control them like Ra’om controlled you? Through torture? You were nothing but Ra’om’s—”

  “Careful.” He finally does what I’ve been dreading and moves into my mind. It’s a familiar feeling. Painful. Like fingers walking around my eyes, then slipping inside and prodding at my brain. He put me through this repeatedly in the fall.

  “Those were good times we had, weren’t they? In Rome? In California?” he asks, lining up with my thoughts. Then he withdraws from my head. Fast, like a hook releasing.

  I need a few seconds to shake the edge of darkness he left behind and get full control of my own head again. “How did you keep all of this from Bas?”

  “He was very ill for the first six weeks. Unconscious. Then delirious with fever. It gave me time to understand my power here. By the time he was healthy, I had arranged things the way I wanted. I had a plan. I knew having him on my side would be imperative to gaining Daryn’s trust.”

  “You lied to him for eight months.”

  “I didn’t enjoy it, but I had to. For a time, I thought about turning him. Bringing him to heel, so to speak. But it would’ve killed Sebastian. Not everyone is strong enough to hold darkness inside them.” He pauses. “You could do it.”

  “Is this your sales pitch again? I love this.”

  “Think of it, Gideon. All the guilt and remorse you struggle with, going away. Violence, even if it’s for good, is still violence. How do you reconcile that? How do you live with guilt? If you joined me, that would end. You’d never need to ask those questions again. We could be brothers. Can you imagine it?”

  “Sure can. It looks like hell.”

  “Your insolence is another thing I like about you.”

  “You think fighting feeds me? That violence is something I enjoy?” I shake my head. “You’re evil.”

  “Is that what you think evil is? The desire to do harm to another? If so, then I imagine you’re feeling evil right now.”

  I can’t argue with that.

  “That reminds me … I’ve wanted to talk to you about your hand. I owe you a debt for what I’ve done. Someday I’ll repay it.”

  “Your death would settle it.”

  “That’s not an option.”

  “Then I don’t want anything from you.”

  “I can’t say the same.”

  The pressure around my eyes starts again. I feel him enter my head and plunge deep this time. Deep enough to sift through my memories.

  Images blur before me—not under my power.

  Samrael takes me to when I first saw Daryn in Wyoming at the Smith Cabin, after all those months away from her. I’m transported back to how I felt. Standing on the porch during that rainstorm. Watching her walk up. Telling myself not to fall for her again. I was so sure I could keep my distance.

  How wrong you were.

  Samrael’s voice echoes in my thoughts.

  My memory lurches forward, blurring again, and then crystallizing. I’m in Nevada now. Seeing the moment in the trailer when Daryn and I were all over each other. Feeling that moment.

  I can see how she changed your mind.

  That’s not—it’s not—

  Ah, there it is. A reaction. She is such a weakness in your armor. Too easy, Gideon. Between her and your horse, much too easy. First lesson I’d teach you if I were your mentor: Never care more than you can withstand to suffer.

  We blur forward again to the time Daryn and I talked about her parents after the haunting where she saw her mother on the roof of the bungalow.

  I relive it fully, my surroundings dropping away. I hear myself telling Daryn that her parents abandoned her. That she was a kid who needed them. I see how it affects her all over again. Then I’m back in my skin and the pressure goes away.

  “Interesting,” Samrael says. “She fears abandonment. Perhaps it’s why she shows such extraordinary determination not to give up on you. Thank you, Gideon. It’ll be helpful.”

  He turns and walks away.

  “Wait.”

  He stops.

  “You’re mining me for information on her.” I don’t even ask; I know it’s what he’s doing. Because she’s a Seeker, he can’t see into her mind, so he’s going through me. “You’re going to use what you stole out of my head to get close to her. To win her trust, so she’ll let you out of here.”

  “To be honest with you, I don’t think I need your help. I feel a connection with her. A kinship.” He smiles at his own words; then he reaches into his pocket and removes the orb. He holds it up like he’s examining it. “But I’m not going to take any chances.”

  CHAPTER 37

  DARYN

  “Daryn?” Rael says. “I’m sorry, but it’s getting late. We need to go back before the Harrows begin to stir.”

  I rein in the gray mare I’ve borrowed. A dozen riders stop around me—Rifters whose names I’m just beginning to sort out. Who have given up their day and put themselves at risk to search for Gideon.

  We’ve spent hours riding, and we haven’t seen anything except stupid white flowers and trees, trees, and more trees.

  The disappointment is too much. To my horror, my eyes fill. I dismount and stride away before I embarrass myself.

  “Go on ahead, Dunnett,” Rael says behind me. “We’ll catch up.”

  The hoofbeats recede as the posse rides back to Gray Fort. My disappointment fades away as I draw deep breaths, but I don�
��t find calm. I find anger.

  “No pep talk?” I ask without turning to face Rael. “I’m a little disappointed.” My words are bitter, but I’m so tired of searching and searching and being let down.

  “I was trying to give you some space, but if you’d like encouragement, I might be able to help.” There’s a quiet thud as he hops down from the saddle. “Would you?”

  “Like encouragement?” I turn to face him, and he stops in his tracks. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Okay. First, let me be sure I understand: you’re discouraged because our search hasn’t been successful yet, correct?”

  “What kind of Seeker never finds?”

  Rael stands perfectly still, regarding me with an unblinking stare. “I think ‘never’ may be a slight exaggeration.”

  I roll my eyes. I know I’m exaggerating, but being called out on it isn’t exactly making me feel any better.

  “All right,” he says. “Bear with me as I share a small story with you.” He exhales quietly and at length. “Roughly a year ago, I was in Rio de Janeiro, in one of the favelas there—the shantytowns that climb the mountains around the city. They’re ramshackle settlements, the houses stacked one atop another like beehives. Poverty, crime, and hunger thrive in them. That is what had drawn me and the other Kindred.

  “I had spent the previous night with them inspiring fear and inciting violence. These were the things I did then, the things that once fed me and that I must atone for.

  “At dawn, with the night’s chaos completed, I sat on a rock ledge overlooking the favela, the city lights and the bay spreading below me.

  “As I waited for the sun to rise, I had so much anger in my heart I wondered if I might poison myself with my own hatred. I hated what I did and what I was, but I still persisted. I couldn’t make myself stop. Even if I’d had the strength of will, Ra’om would’ve persuaded me to continue in ways so vile and painful, I sincerely hope they’re beyond your imagination.

  “The sun rose and it didn’t assuage the horror inside me, as I’d hoped. I still felt it, destroying my soul. But then I saw a flash of sunlight in the street below me. It reflected off the golden hair of the girl who stands before me now. You, Daryn. You were there.”