by E. E. Holmes
“No, no, it’s okay, we weren’t in it at the time,” Flavia said breathlessly. “I still haven’t ascertained how much damage was done, but there will be time for that.” She looked at us, and at Dragos. “What’s going on?”
“We’re being escorted from the camp,” I said. “We’ve been banned.”
“Banned? Permanently?” Flavia asked, gaping.
“Yes,” I said.
“But why—”
“You two should take shelter in one of the other wagons,” Dragos said impatiently. “Haven’t you heard? The Walker escaped, and she’s a danger to anyone she encounters.”
Both Flavia and Annabelle’s eyes widened in alarm. Annabelle actually swayed a bit on her feet. Flavia grasped her arm tighter.
Dragos seemed not to notice. “Lock yourself in and do not open the door to anyone until the Caomhnóir instruct you it is safe,” he told them.
“No,” Annabelle said. Her voice sounded strange, like she was having a hard time forming her words. “If Jess is leaving, then I’m leaving, too. I don’t want to stay without her.”
Dragos snorted. “Suit yourself, Dormant. But you’d do better to be more careful of the company you keep if you hope to reestablish your connections here.”
Annabelle didn’t reply. She clutched the knapsack more tightly to her back. Her knuckles were white.
“Let us go, then,” Dragos said, and continued his march toward the encampment border.
Flavia walked with us, still holding on to Annabelle. I caught her eye and mouthed to her silently, “What is going on?”
She did not answer, merely shaking her head and continuing to walk. Her hand, on Annabelle’s arm, was trembling. Annabelle stumbled several times as she trudged forward, but ignored every attempt I made to get her attention.
At last, we reached the edge of the encampment. Dragos waved a hand toward the edge of the trees. “The High Priestess has spoken. Do not return here.”
Flavia reached out and pulled me into a tight fierce embrace. As she hugged me, she put her lips to my ear and murmured. “Help her walk. She’s going to need your help. Get her out of sight of the woods.”
I pulled away, my face full of confusion, but Flavia didn’t explain. She planted a tiny kiss on Annabelle’s cheek, waved to Finn, and scurried back into the trees and out of sight. I linked my arm through Annabelle’s and felt her lean against me. What the hell was wrong with her? She still wasn’t looking at me. She seemed to be concentrating with all her might on simply staying upright.
Finn seemed to notice Annabelle’s state for the first time, and took her other arm. Together, the three of us shuffled in silence away from the woods and back toward the road. It was nearly a quarter of a mile back to the car.
“Annabelle, what in the world—”
“No,” she said, slurring her speech again. “Still too close. Keep walking. We must be completely out of sight.”
“But are you hurt?”
“Keep walking!”
Slowly, painfully, we made our way back to the car, Annabelle panting and staggering with the effort. At last the car came into view. Finn pulled his keys from his pocket and clicked the remote starter. The car roared to life, and the headlights cut wide swaths of golden light across the road.
Under cover of the sound of the engine, I turned Annabelle to face me. “Annabelle what in the world is happening? Why are you . . . ?”
But Annabelle, who had collapsed against the side of the car, had begun to laugh.
“Annabelle, please! Tell me what’s wrong with you?”
Annabelle looked me fully in the eye for the first time. “Nothing at all, Northern Girl. Except perhaps for the fact that I’m not Annabelle.”
I reeled back from her, gasping in horror. I knew the wild look staring out at me from those eyes.
“Irina!” I cried.
“What?!” Finn shouted in alarm.
“These prisons are terribly difficult to work when they don’t belong to you, aren’t they?” Irina told me through Annabelle’s lips. “You’ll remember your Spirit Guide had a devil of a time controlling yours when he tried it.”
“But . . . I don’t understand. Where is Annabelle? What happened to her? What have you done to her?” I hissed, fighting a wave of terror that threatened to overwhelm me.
“I haven’t done anything to her,” Irina said. “She did it to herself.”
“I . . . she’s not . . . she would never . . .” I mumbled.
“Irina, no more games!” Finn snarled. “What happened to Annabelle?”
“Ask her yourself,” Irina said, pointing one of Annabelle’s violently shaking fingers at something over Finn’s shoulder. Both of us turned to see a translucent figure gliding toward us, from a nearby copse of trees. Her familiar face was split into a wide, resplendent smile.
“Annabelle!” I shouted, and the shout was half a sob. “Oh, my God, no! NO!”
Annabelle’s smile did not falter. She put up a hand to silence me. “Jessica, don’t. It’s okay. Let me explain.”
“Nothing is okay! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” I cried, sinking to my knees. “I broke my promise! I broke my promise to Irina so that this wouldn’t happen!”
“Jess, stop.” It was Finn who spoke now. His expression was filled with wonder as he stared at Annabelle, and even as I watched him, he let out a peal of incredulous laughter. “I can’t believe it!” he whispered.
“You can’t believe what?” I shouted at him. “And why the hell are you laughing?”
He looked at me, still smiling. “Jess, look at her. She’s not dead. Look at her!”
Bewildered I looked back at Annabelle. She was in spirit form. Her body was beside me, still shaking with laughter, inhabited by another spirit. There was no way that could be true unless she was dead or . . .
And the truth washed over me. I scrambled to my feet and took a few tentative steps forward, until Annabelle’s spirit form stood just in front of me, so close that I could have reached right out and touched her.
“You’re Walking,” I whispered.
Her smile widened into a sheepish grin. “Not bad for a Dormant, huh?”
“But . . . I don’t understand,” I croaked, choking on a sound that was half-sob and half-laugh. “This isn’t possible! How . . . ?” I didn’t even know which of a thousand questions to ask.
“It was Flavia who figured it out,” Annabelle said. “I wasn’t going to bother looking at any more research, but you know her. We went back to the Scribes’ wagon right after you left, and she just picked right back up with the magnifying glass. Then suddenly, not a minute later, she shouted, ‘Annabelle! Let me look at your bracelets!’ Before I could ask her what was going on, she had grabbed my wrist and was going through my bracelets, one by one, comparing them to the ones in the sketch. It was then that she realized you had drawn one that I wasn’t wearing.”
“Huh?” I asked, perplexed.
“A Soul Catcher. One that had been sliced through,” Annabelle said.
A jingling sound behind me made me turn. Irina had lifted Annabelle’s wrist and shook back the many bangles to reveal the dangling ends of a knotted hemp bracelet buried amongst the metal ones.
“But . . . you aren’t a Durupinen. You shouldn’t have been able to . . .” I said weakly.
“I know,” Annabelle said. “But I didn’t stop to question it. The sketch was clear. It didn’t show me dead. It showed me Walking. So, we didn’t even pause to wonder whether I could do it. You’d already shown me I could.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said, laughing again.
“Neither can I,” Annabelle admitted. “I guess the Durupinen should spend a little more time learning to appreciate the possible latent talents of their Dormants rather than trying to sweep us under the rug.”
“But I still don’t understand how you managed to . . .” I just gestured incredulously at her Walker form.
“Flavia had Soul Catchers right in a drawer in t
he wagon, left over from when she made them for you three years ago. All we needed was a distraction, a way to get into Irina’s clearing without the Caomhnóir seeing us. So, Flavia lit the fire and we waited for Irina’s guard to run toward the commotion. Flavia knew every single Casting set upon the clearing, because she’d had to research them all when she helped to build the enclosure that you learned to Walk in. So, she knew exactly how to undo them.”
“This is bloody brilliant!” Finn said softly. “Absolutely bloody brilliant.”
“And wouldn’t you know it, that Caomhnóir was in such a rush to help put out that fire, that he didn’t even realize he’d dropped his dagger,” Annabelle said, smiling again. “And so, we had everything we needed, just as your sketch had instructed us.”
“But where’s Irina’s body?” I asked.
Annabelle’s smile faltered for the first time. “She . . . well, as soon as she was out of the confines of the clearing she . . .” Annabelle gestured wordlessly, but I didn’t need or want the details. I understood. Irina ended her life. Her body was dead now, and she could not return to it. “The Travelers will surely find it soon, if they haven’t already.”
“They freed me,” Irina cried rapturously, and as she said it, she rose like a soaring bird out of Annabelle’s body, which slumped unceremoniously to the ground.
“Hey, be careful with that!” Annabelle said. “I’m the one who’s got to use it!”
But Irina wasn’t listening. She was coasting like a leaf on a wayward breeze, laughing like a small child.
“But how in the world did you think of putting Irina inside your body?” Finn asked, in awe.
“That stroke of genius was Irina’s idea. Flavia and I were trying to decide how to hide Irina, or else how to get her over the border without the Caomhnóir tracking her down. We knew that Walking was the key, but we couldn’t figure out why. Then Irina just . . . came up with it. She looked over at me and said, ‘If I steer that shell out of here, no one will know that I’m inside it.’ It was obvious she wasn’t keen on the idea, but as soon as she said it, Flavia and I looked at each other and we knew she was right. I wasn’t just the Walker. I was the getaway car.”
I laughed, but Finn’s expression turned suddenly serious. “Speaking of cars, we should really put as much distance between us and the Traveler camp as we can,” he said, frowning.
“You’re right,” Annabelle said. With an almost reluctant sigh she trained her gaze upon her empty body and then flew at it, disappearing into it and then animating it once more.
I ran over and knelt beside her. “Are you all right? How do you feel?”
Annabelle was looking down at her own hands as though she’d never really seen them before. “Wow,” she whispered, then looked up at me. “I feel . . . okay, I think. Weird. A little dizzy, but otherwise . . . fine!”
I pulled her to her feet and into a fierce hug. “Easy, easy, I’m not quite . . . adjusted,” she gasped.
“Oops, sorry!” I said sheepishly, letting her go, but keeping a hand on her to keep her steady. “I forgot. Let’s get you in the car and you can get your bearings back.”
Finn stepped forward and offered an arm to Annabelle to help her into the car. I turned to Irina. “Well,” I said to her, and smiled. “You’re free.”
Irina smiled. “So it would seem. And I must take back my words.”
“What words?”
“Your promises, Northern Girl,” she said coming so close to me that I could see every sparkling facet of the glimmers in her tear-filled eyes. “Your promises are worth their weight in gold.”
As the car wound away up the dirt road, Irina soaring along beside it like a canary free at last from the depths of the mineshaft, I reached out into my connection to find Hannah and Milo waiting for me, dependable as always.
“Jess! What’s going on? We’ve been so worried! What’s happened?” they cried over each other at once as my energy filtered through to them.
“Can you find Savvy and get a hold of a car?” I asked.
“Of course! But what happened to the Caomhnóir car? Where’s Finn?” Hannah asked anxiously, the words tumbling through the connection like a rushing creek over stones. “What about Annabelle? Jess, we’ve been so worried!”
“Annabelle’s fine. Finn is here. We’re all okay. But I need you to get in the car and start driving. We’ve got a very special Crossing to perform, and it’s best if we do it away from Fairhaven.”
I heard Milo gasp as he understood.
“I don’t understand” Hannah said.
I looked out the window at Irina. She was joy personified, coasting on the wind. “A promise is a promise.”
Epilogue
I STARED DOWN AT MY PHONE and sighed for at least the dozenth time.
“Jess, if I hear you do that one more time, I’m going to pry that phone out of your hand and make the call myself,” Hannah said, looking up from her work in exasperation.
“I know, I know,” I said, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I hate doing this to her. She just moved in with us. She was just getting settled. And now I’m abandoning her!”
“Tia will understand,” Hannah insisted. “You know that she will.”
“I know. But that doesn’t make me feel any less shitty about doing it,” I said. “I’m not worried about Tia. I know she’ll have a new apartment lined up before I’ve even hung up the phone. I just hope she doesn’t have a new best friend lined up, too.”
“Jess, don’t be ridiculous,” Hannah sighed, in a tone that reminded me so much of my mother that I stared over at her with a catch in my throat. I loved when she sounded like our mother, though I would never tell her that. Well, maybe one day, when enough of the wounds had faded to scars.
It had been a week since my return from the Traveler camp, and I still couldn’t quite believe we had pulled it off. Flavia had sent me a letter letting me know that Irina’s body had been found, and that the Traveler Council had, after an exhaustive investigation, at last called off the search for Irina’s spirit. They were still trying to piece together how she had escaped, but Flavia assured me that they were no closer to figuring it out than they had been on the day we left. Annabelle had returned to the States and was attempting to resume a normal life after discovering her extraordinary talent. She had abandoned her attempts to reconnect with her Traveler relations, and was choosing instead to sever her ties with the camp, lest they somehow discover her abilities and, by extension, her role in Irina’s escape. And best of all, Irina was at peace at long last, and the long arm of Traveler law could never reach her again.
Of course, I was still a Seer, and I would have to find a way to deal with that. But I had come to an important realization in the aftermath of Irina’s escape; my gift, as frightening as it was, had tried to help me. First it had warned me about Hannah and the Prophecy. Then, it had given me the answer to the Shattering before it even happened. And now, it had showed me the only way to keep my promise to Irina. Perhaps, if I worked with my gift instead of against it, it might just turn out to be a blessing instead of a curse.
Hannah had thrown herself so heartily into her work on the Council that she was quickly earning the respect of her fellows, including many of those who had been so skeptical of her to begin with. She now spent most of her time on the phone and in front of the computer, completing the paperwork needed to transfer to a program in London so that she could finish her degree. In this regard, at least, being a Durupinen was incredibly helpful. Our elaborate network of connections was allowing her to bypass all kinds of bureaucratic red tape in order to make a smooth transition. Our dubiously legal dual citizenship papers had arrived at our door only the day before. I had quit both of my jobs, and had begun sifting through a number of listings for flats that we could move into, though no one seemed to be bothered that we were still squatting in the castle. I was eager to start establishing a life outside of its walls, though; classes were back in s
ession for the newest crop of Apprentices, and I was starting to feel like the creepy alumna who perpetually pretended to still be one of the college kids. The only thing left to do was talk to Tia and tell her we weren’t coming home.
My phone suddenly buzzed. I jumped and dropped it, then scooped it back up and looked at the incoming call.
“It’s Tia!” I cried.
“Perfect!” Hannah said, smirking. “So, answer it and tell her, Jess. The longer you wait, the worse it will be.”
I cursed rapidly under my breath for several moments, then answered the call.
“Hey, Ti! Look, I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise. I had to—” But I broke off as a volley of sniffs and sobs met my ears. “Tia? Oh my God, are you crying? What’s wrong?”
“Jess, he broke up with me! Sam broke up with me!” she managed to stammer, then broke into a veritable storm of crying.
“Oh, no! Oh, Tia, I . . . I don’t even know what to say! I’m so sorry! What . . . do you want to tell me what happened?” I asked, pantomiming her news across to Hannah, who gasped and covered her mouth as she caught on.
“I don’t know. He kept wanting me to move in, and I just wasn’t ready, and we kept fighting about it,” Tia explained between fresh waves of tears. “And I just kept telling him that I loved him, but that I needed to prioritize school. I mean, I’ve been working toward this since I was old enough to know what a doctor was, but he wouldn’t understand.”
“How could he not understand that about you by now?” I asked incredulously. “You’ve always been goal-driven.”
“I know! He used to say it was one of the things he loved about me. And so, he just stopped calling me. I was always the one who had to call him. And he just claimed he was giving me the space I needed to work, but he felt more distant every time I talked to him. And then this morning he called me to say that he met someone else and that he wanted to break up.”
I think she said something else after that, but I couldn’t tell what it was because at that point she dissolved into a blubbering mess. I let her sob for a minute or so, interjecting soothing words here and there, but feeling absolutely helpless in the face of her devastation.
