Fault Lines

by D. J. McCune

  Best of all though, Melissa would be there. Not in the same room (he could but dream) but definitely in a room nearby. He would be able to spend a whole week with her, just hanging out and chatting and maybe getting some time to sneak off together. Time on their own, away from everyone else. Why was it so hard? He lay thinking about her until he felt hot and uncomfortable, trapped beneath his brothers. All he had to do was get there.

  Adam pillowed his head in his hands and stared blankly at the bunk above. He knew why his father was so reluctant to apply for a passport. The Luman world was secretive for obvious reasons. The Mortsons were an old family and wealthy, mainly because they had amassed a huge number of Keystones over the centuries. These stones were part of what gave their Luman owners power and speed but at one time they had been sold between families for vast sums of money and the proceeds locked away in Swiss deposit boxes. The keystone Adam wore around his neck was a fragment of one of these larger Keystones.

  In the past it had been much easier to conceal the Luman world. Lumen had hidden in plain sight, keeping their fortunes hidden or pretending to be landowners. But in the last hundred years the world had changed. Proper records had been kept. Birth and death certificates were needed to do anything and everything. The Mortsons’ home and expenses had to be routed through a convoluted series of companies and bank accounts. A handful of ‘normal’ people – mainly doctors, lawyers and bankers – knew enough about the Luman world to understand the need for secrecy but any contact with the authorities put the Mortsons on the radar. Adam could understand his father’s reluctance to apply for a passport when the family could simply swoop anywhere in the world.

  He knew it was selfish – but somehow he couldn’t give up on his dream of going to Japan. He didn’t want to put his family at risk but just for once, he wanted to be like everyone else in his class and just do the things that everyone else took for granted. And the thought of spending a whole week with Melissa was too much to let go of. He would have to be more persuasive than he had ever been in his life.

  He fell asleep, dreaming heavy, happy dreams.

  Adam awoke to a different world. He lay on the bottom bunk, blinking at the shaft of sunlight slipping between the faded curtains. A cautious peek revealed his brothers sleeping and the ceiling still over their heads, proving that the roof had miraculously stayed on through the hurricane. He gathered his phone, clothes and trainers and slipped out into the hall.

  A few minutes later he was hovering outside the back door, staring in wonder at a miraculous view. The sea had transformed from a snarling grey beast into a blue mirror, reflecting the early morning sun and lapping the rocks. Walking past the end of the kitchen he could look left along the beach and in the distance just see the white gleam of houses. Adam sighed and swung his arms, feeling some of the tension of school and life drain away. You couldn’t look at this and feel uptight. It was too big and empty. It made him feel small and his problems even smaller.

  ‘Looks like it goes on forever, doesn’t it?’ Caitlyn said behind him. He turned to see her wearing short, denim cut-offs and flip-flops, flanked by six wolfhounds, including Storm the werewolf. None of them were on the lead but they were perfectly calm, probably because Sam and Morty weren’t with them. Caitlyn pointed straight out to sea. ‘If you sailed due north you would run into some of the Scottish islands. But after that, it’s just the Atlantic for a very long way.’

  ‘It’s amazing,’ Adam said. His voice sounded quiet. He felt quiet, in a happy sort of way. Peaceful somehow. Maybe this was why Uncle Paddy and Auntie Orla always seemed so chilled out. Looking out of your window at this every day probably put everything else into perspective.

  He followed Caitlyn across the grass and down some steps at the bottom of the garden. They passed through a tall gate onto a treacherous little path above the water. The dogs walked sedately behind for a few minutes until they reached high, rocky steps leading down to the beach. At the bottom Caitlyn kicked off her flip-flops. ‘You can leave your shoes here, if you want to paddle.’

  Adam hesitated. The water looked lovely but it also looked freezing. He remembered Luc dragging him in when they were younger and his skin burned a little at the memory … Still, Caitlyn had smirked in a challenging sort of way and he didn’t want to look like a wimp. He kicked his trainers off, shoving his socks inside in a ball and hurried to catch up with her.

  The beach was almost deserted. They could see a few runners in the distance and a man walking his dog but otherwise it was all theirs. ‘I always come down early with the Lumen dogs,’ Caitlyn said. ‘It gets busy later on and in the summer it’s madness with the tourists but it’s always quiet at this time. Means they can have a good run off the lead.’ She gave a low, piercing whistle and the dogs transformed from well-trained, working dogs into pony-sized puppies, charging off along the beach, throwing up flurries of sand behind them.

  Adam glanced at her. She seemed less sullen today, more like the Caitlyn he remembered, although there was still something wild and twitchy about her. She walked fast, stopping now and again to curl her toes into the sand or grin and kick water at him. He splashed back until his jeans were soaked and clinging to his thighs. The water was cold but not horribly so; just the kind of cold that made his whole body feel wide awake. He waited until she was laughing at two of the dogs as they chased each other through the water. ‘You seem happier today.’

  She stopped and stared at him, surprised. After a moment she shrugged. ‘Yeah, I s’pose. I just hate all the sitting round being polite when we have people here. Everything has to be tidy and it’s all, “Caitlyn, brush your hair!” Or “Caitlyn, would you ever crack a smile once in a while?” I wish people would just leave me alone.’

  Adam snorted. ‘You think that’s bad? If we have any Lumen coming to the house my mother has a complete meltdown. It’s new clothes, fancy food, candles everywhere. Chloe has to practise on the piano for hours, just on the off chance someone might want to hear her play. And if the Concilium are coming, then it’s all black tie and green soup.’

  Caitlyn grinned. ‘Yeah, I get the impression that your ma likes everything done just so. We’ll have to dress up a bit tonight because the stupid Concilium are coming. Not all of them, just a few of the Curators, but it’s still a pain.’

  Adam stared at her, dismayed. The thirteen Curators of the Concilium were responsible for upholding law in the Luman world. Most of them were decent and honourable – but not all. He didn’t mind seeing Heinrich but there was one Curator who he really didn’t want to see. He tried to keep his voice neutral. ‘Which ones are coming?’

  ‘Dunno. Does it matter?’ Caitlyn’s face had darkened. ‘I have to be on my best behaviour whoever it is. You know, in case one of them wants to marry me off to his son or something. Because it would just be such a total honour and all that.’ She rolled her eyes.

  The penny was dropping for Adam. So that was why she was being like this. He tried to make a joke of it. ‘Well, you could always get betrothed to Luc. At least life would be … interesting.’

  She gave him an arch look. ‘Yeah, thanks but there’s good interesting and then there’s spending-the-rest-of-your-life-in-jail-for-murder interesting. Anyway, I don’t want to get betrothed to anyone. Not yet.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s what Chloe said too,’ Adam said, without really thinking about it until he registered the shock on Caitlyn’s face. He backtracked frantically. ‘Well, that’s what she used to say! You know, before she started seeing more of Ciaron and all. Like obviously, she’d be really happy to get married to him. She really likes him.’ Great, Adam. Way to start an international incident.

  Caitlyn nodded but her expression became guarded. She changed the subject, pointing at the dogs and telling him a potted history of each of them. An hour later when they pulled their shoes on to return to the house she was still talking about inconsequential things. Adam smiled and nodded but he had a horrible feeling he had messed up big time.

>   And now he had to look forward to a whole evening of not messing up in front of the Concilium.

  Chapter 5

  he day passed pleasantly but too quickly for Adam. By early evening he was standing in the bedroom, gritting his teeth as he tried to get dressed alongside his brothers. His mother, ever prepared, had packed their evening wear and as he pulled on a bow tie he thought wistfully of the relaxed meal the night before.

  Like all Luman homes Uncle Paddy’s house had several formal reception rooms, ready for entertaining. Half an hour later Adam was in a candlelit sun room, looking out as the sun fell low over the Atlantic. The sky seemed to go on forever. His family were there too with the exception of Nathanial and Aron, who were waiting respectfully in the hall with Uncle Paddy’s family, ready to greet the Concilium.

  Auntie Jo joined him by the window, holding a glass of sparkling water and pointedly ignoring the wine and whiskey on the low tables. ‘These things were always more fun when I could have a drink.’ She looked tired but not unhappy.

  Adam glanced at her, feeling awkward. No one had drawn attention to her transformation, with the exception of Luc, who couldn’t resist stirring when the opportunity arose. There was nothing personal in this; winding people up without making them hate him was one of Luc’s special talents. Still, Adam thought the change in his aunt had been pretty spectacular. ‘I think you’re doing really well,’ he said quietly.

  To his horror Auntie Jo pursed her lips and her eyes glistened but she cleared her throat and murmured, ‘Thanks.’ To his relief she asked him about school the day before.

  There was a thunderous knocking sound from the hallway beyond. Having leapt half a foot in the air Adam scowled. He could never get used to the Concilium’s ceremonial arrival. Auntie Jo was talking and he tried to listen but his stomach was churning. Which of the Curators would be here tonight? There was one he couldn’t bear to see.

  Too soon Adam’s worst fears were realised. A smiling Uncle Paddy entered the sun room and presented five of the thirteen Curators of the Concilium. Heinrich, the Chief Curator, was leading the way, smiling broadly and seeming genuinely pleased to see the Mortsons. The other Curators were greeting them politely.

  But all Adam’s attention was on the man who had slipped into the room last. Darian was the youngest Curator. He was a tall, handsome French man with blond hair and sharp green eyes. He greeted everyone around him courteously, lingering as he embraced Elise until she pulled away, as close to bad manners as she would ever come.

  Adam hardly even registered the Darian who was physically with them in the room. All he could think of was Darian back in the Realm of the Fates, conspiring to bring the Mortsons to their downfall. To their deaths.

  Even more chilling was the knowledge that no one else in the room had any idea who Darian really was. Adam alone watched in horror as the man smiled and shook hands with the very people he had plotted to destroy. As the Frenchman approached him Adam’s throat went dry. He stood petrified, torn between rage and terror as he remembered the man’s words: The High Luman must bear his share of the blame. How many people had died needlessly as Darian stood by, hoping to ruin the Mortsons and pluck Elise from the wreckage?

  And then Darian was in front of Adam, who silently offered a clammy hand, staring helplessly. Darian was smiling but his green eyes were sharp and cold. ‘Bonsoir, Adam. I trust you are well?’

  Adam nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He let go of Darian’s hand, expecting him to move on as usual but the Frenchman stayed where he was, holding Adam’s stare. What did he want? He had never shown the slightest interest in Adam before, which had suited Adam just fine.

  Darian was studying him. ‘We so rarely get a chance to talk, Adam. Tell me a little more about yourself. Are you still attending your school?’

  Adam glared at him. Was he really going to have to do this? Stand there and make small talk with the man who had tried to have them all killed? ‘Yeah.’ It was the only word he allowed himself to say. It took all his effort not to shriek to the whole room, ‘This man wants my family dead!’

  ‘How unusual at your age.’ Darian was quiet. ‘And why might this be?’

  ‘Because I want to be a doctor.’ Who the hell did Darian think he was, quizzing him like this? Darian wasn’t his friend; he was his enemy, even if the Frenchman didn’t know that Adam knew. He clenched his fists. ‘I stay at school because I want to be a doctor.’

  ‘But you will be a Luman.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Anger was making Adam reckless.

  ‘There is no maybe, my young friend. A Luman is born to our work. To do anything less would be to bring shame and dishonour on your noble family.’ Darian had a particular knack for saying one thing and conveying the opposite. The way he said ‘noble’ managed to drag up all the shame and degradation the Mortsons had experienced when another of their number had been unable to be a Luman in the past – not that Adam was supposed to know anything about old scandals.

  Adam sucked in his breath. ‘There’s no shame in being the person you’re meant to be. And I want to be a doctor.’

  ‘And why is that?’

  ‘Because I want to save people’s lives.’

  He knew immediately that he had said too much. Darian’s eyes narrowed. ‘Really?’ The Curator’s voice was quiet. ‘An unusual aspiration for a Luman. Do you have any experience of saving lives?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Adam lied. ‘But I will have. Some day I’ll know exactly how to help people. Especially when other people have tried to hurt them.’ He looked at Darian hard, trying to stare him out, but the Frenchman was smirking.

  There was something about that smirk that almost made him throw caution to the winds and blurt out everything. It was Uncle Paddy who saved him. He joined them and nodded at Darian. ‘Well, Curator, are you ready for some food?’ He smiled at Adam. ‘I’d say you’re hungry Adam, if you’re anything like Ciaron.’

  Adam nodded and gladly followed him out of the sun room but he could feel the Frenchman watching him as he walked.

  The meal should have been delicious but Adam was too much on edge to enjoy it. Uncle Paddy and Auntie Orla had so many daughters that for once Adam found himself at the middle of the table instead of stuck at the far end. Male Lumen always took precedence over females, which disgusted Adam but didn’t seem to bother most Lumen a jot. He tried to enjoy his food but his stomach was a tight, sick ball.

  He was forced to go upstairs for an after-dinner drink in the drawing room while the women and girls cleared up. Adam was tense and determined to stay with his father to avoid being caught unguarded again. He was still kicking himself for telling Darian about his plans to be a doctor. Darian was a Seer – like Adam he could often feel deaths before they actually happened. It was because of this that he had known someone was preventing deaths and cheating the Fates out of souls. So why on earth had Adam blabbered about saving lives? It wasn’t a typical Luman aspiration. All he had done was make himself conspicuous, in some kind of petty bid to antagonise Darian.

  Adam tried to listen to his father and brothers as they talked with Ciaron and his young brother but he couldn’t help watching over his shoulder the whole time. There was no sign of Darian or Heinrich but Uncle Paddy was talking to the other Curators, making them laugh. Ciaron kept glancing at the door, probably waiting for Chloe to appear. Adam warmed to him. All right, he was sickeningly perfect but he did seem to like Chloe. Looking around, Adam knew that she would be happy here.

  A few minutes later the women appeared and the room became three times as animated. Chloe was invited to play the piano in the corner and she managed to put on a faultless performance. Ciaron was beaming at her. Elise was smiling tight-lipped, torn between pride in her only daughter and disappointment that she was going to waste her accomplishments on such a small and insignificant Kingdom. The fact that her own family had felt the same way about her marriage to Nathanial didn’t seem to register with Elise. History had a way of repeating itse
lf.

  It was a few minutes later before Heinrich and Darian rejoined them. Darian was smiling but there was something smug about it that unsettled Adam. The feeling that something was amiss grew stronger as he looked at Heinrich. His normal joviality seemed forced and he was looking from Nathanial to Uncle Paddy with barely concealed distress. Darian joined the group around the piano, applauding loudly as Chloe finished playing, and murmured something in Elise’s ear. She nodded but took a step away.

  Suddenly Adam couldn’t bear it all any longer. He waited for Auntie Orla to begin singing and playing something faster than was considered ladylike and took advantage of the distraction. He crept out of the drawing room and made his way down the stairs, without any clear sense of purpose, until he walked through the silent kitchen and slipped out of the back door.

  The last light was fading from the sky, bar the clean, silvery moonlight illuminating the waves beyond the garden. The day had stayed fine and dry and the sky was clear and starry. Adam walked away from the house, desperate for fresh air, and without really noticing he found himself at the barn.

  There was a cacophony of barking but he’d heard Caitlyn enough to know what to say. ‘Bígí ciúin!’ he said as commandingly as he could and the wolfhounds fell silent. He made his way to the far end of the barn and found Sam and Morty standing in their pen, wagging their plumy tails in greeting.

  The dogs were always happy to see him and out here, away from the formality and pretence, he felt like he could breathe again. His mind was full of dark thoughts about Darian. Part of him could understand the man’s hatred of Nathanial. After all, Nathanial had managed to win Elise’s heart – and keep it in spite of tragedy and scandal. For Darian, who had always envisaged Elise at his own side, it must have been an awful blow.

  But to go to the lengths he had – to be prepared to sacrifice the Mortson men, just so he would finally have a chance with Elise … Adam swore so ferociously that Sam whined and tilted his head to one side and had to be petted reassuringly. Darian wasn’t just ruthless; he was a psychopath. This campaign wasn’t about love, whatever the man told himself – it was about his need to win. Elise was no longer the teenager he had fallen in love with, just as he was no longer her friend. They could have been friends if he hadn’t been so tirelessly hostile to Nathanial all these years.