A crushing wave of pain coming from Oleander broke my train of thought. I edged out the memories and rushed towards him, my temples beginning to throb. Daphne was looking at me, her eyes dark.
I reached out and brushed the hair from her eyes.
“I can’t pull her out of it,” Oleander said.
“You want to tell me what you saw?” I asked Daphne quietly. Her worry condensed around me, as tangible as the room we were standing in. I felt her roiling wave drowning out the background noise. She was deep inside the vision, submerged by the pain it was inflicting on her. It was no ordinary vision. It was a flooding one. She seldom had those. Seers who had more than five a year were hospitalized in restricted wards, sedated into a stupor.
Daphne was there, with me, but she was also nowhere. She was the vision, and nothing more. She hated them, and I hated them for taking my soulmate away from me. My funny Daphne with the crazy curls. I needed help. I shot Lee a short arrow. He sent back a wave of shriveling anger.
But Daphne.
I shot him another arrow of pleading, and directed his consciousness to Daphne.
Lee approached and kneeled beside me. “Now you remember to ask?”
“Help me pull her out. Please.”
Lee nodded.
I put my hands on Daphne’s cheeks. “I’m going to help you out a little.” I didn’t know whether she could even hear me. It was impossible to stop a flooding vision. You could only deal with the aftermath.
I tore off a tiny, almost imperceptible piece of the blackness surrounding her and absorbed it into myself.
“Don’t absorb it,” Lee said in a reserved tone. “You won’t be able to wake up tomorrow.”
“You’ve got a better idea?” I asked him, stroking Daphne’s cheek, unable to think of a solution, feeling her sadness increasing as the vision progressed.
Lee suddenly flashed his thin smile. “Shall we do this the American way? What do you say?”
That I’d maneuvered too many people already. That I was exhausted and sick to my stomach from maneuvering sorcerers. But it was Daphne, and the stranger on the floor had just injured my brother. I melted the piece of Daphne’s depression into the mind of an unconscious man. My own psyche felt slightly lighter. Next to me, I felt Lee doing the same.
Oleander was gaping at us. “You’re maneuvering him without consent.”
“Then what do you suggest? It’s either this or waiting until Daphne comes out of her vision in a day, or week, or a month, or however long it takes.”
Oleander lowered his gaze silently.
Working in tandem to dismantle Daphne’s depression was more effective. Lee and I toiled until my back turned to stone and my feelings diffused into Daphne’s pain.
Daphne was focusing on me, and hadn’t yet said a word. Tears were pooling in the corners of her eyes.
I was panting with effort. We were close. We could pull her out now. The psyche of the man sprawled on the floor was almost flooded. Lee continued to transfer chunks of Daphne’s depression into him.
I put my hand on his arm. “Enough.”
“No,” he said, and clenched his jaw. “The motherfucker deserves it. Piece of shit. Trying to shoot our…” He wrenched out another piece, bigger this time, and sent it to the comatose man.
Matthew crouched down beside us and put his hand on Daphne’s wrist. “What are you guys doing?”
“Maneuvering depression into the guy who got your arm all bloody,” I replied, depleted of emotion.
“You’re killing him,” Oleander said with a horrified tone. I couldn’t feel him over Daphne’s whirlwind of emotions.
“Reed isn’t killing anyone,” Matthew said, shooting me a look, “right?”
Lee said, “This asshole is going to want to die when he wakes up tomorrow, and he won’t quit trying until he pulls it off. And nothing’s going to stop him.”
“Because it isn’t his emotion,” I said, maintaining a clear, quiet voice. “So it doesn’t change like organic feelings. It’s a borrowed emotion. It intensifies and takes longer to get rid of without help.”
Sherry approached and stooped beside us. “Want to let me in on what’s going on here?”
“We’re debating the hypothetical question of how this asshole’s going to end his life tomorrow. Maybe slash his wrists?”
Sherry gave a smile that sent shivers down my spine. “He won’t end it. He’ll be in handcuffs, and whatever you guys are maneuvering into him right now will be dismantled by my officers.”
Lee’s smile withered. “That’s a shame.”
Sherry shook her head. “I didn’t say when we’ll start dismantling those feelings.”
Lee’s smile reappeared. Matthew stared at her with appalled silence.
Sherry looked straight at me. “We’re going to need you to fill out a full incident report.” She then shifted her gaze to Lee. “And it’s a real shame you left when I wasn’t looking, which is why we don’t have any urine and saliva samples from you.” She raised an eyebrow. Lee understood. He nodded silently. Sherry put her hand on Daphne’s shoulder and looked at me. “Tell me when she feels better.”
“I don’t think I’ll be feeling any better,” Daphne said, her voice lucid, clear. “That’s it. That’s the course. It took me some time to figure out what I was seeing. Now I know what you did that got you killed.”
“But I’m not dead,” I blurted, choking back the panic. “Look, I’m perfectly alive. He wasn’t even aiming at me.”
“Now they’re going to kill you.”
Lee was breathing slowly. Panic was taking over me. Matthew silently tightened his grip around Daphne’s wrist.
“I should have seen it beforehand, but I was with Oleander, and after the rally–” Daphne paused, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “I killed you. Lee and I killed you.”
“You didn’t kill me,” I said, raising my voice. I held her hand and placed it against my chest. “Daphs, look. Look at me.”
Daphne opened her eyes. Huge. Black. She was moving in a different world; a medium that slowed down all her movements. “It was only a few injuries, people wounded. Now it’s just you. You want to be a hero, so you sacrifice yourself to save someone else.” Daphne turned to Lee. “You get it, right? You know. Your reflections understand it, so you do too.”
Lee cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”
Daphne looked at him. “That’s not what you’re supposed to ask. You ask what choice Reed made.”
Lee didn’t answer. Daphne shifted her gaze back to me. “When you met. And he asked for coffee. And you brought it to him. I should have warned you. I should have said something. But I was so absorbed in my own life, my own pain, and I wasn’t looking. I didn’t see. I see it now. But it’s too late.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Lee sounded choked up. “So you’re wrong. Just like you’re wrong when you say he gets killed because of me.”
Daphne looked at me. “Now you ask me if I’m sure, and I say I am, and Lee starts crying.” She turned to him, Lee’s face an impervious mask. “That won’t help, you know. We both know we killed Reed. All your reflections are saying it.”
Matthew let out a stifled moan. His grief cascaded over me in a single gushing wave. Daphne’s eyes were fixed on me. “Should I explain?”
I shook my head. I could see now the trail she was talking about. “If I hadn’t brought Lee his coffee, I wouldn’t have landed that job at ArtDot, and we wouldn’t have connected, and wouldn’t have ended up here, and I wouldn’t have intercepted this guy’s plan.” I gestured at the man sprawled on the floor. “And now they’ve singled me out. Now I have a bullseye on my back. Up until now they were planning on hurting everyone at the rally, just general mayhem. Now they’re going to target me specifically. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“No,” Sherry said, her voice as quiet as Daphne’s, but where Daphne’s had been steeped in depression, hers was distinctly determined. “You’re not importan
t enough. If they wanted to get you, they would have done it this morning.”
“So why is Daphne seeing me dead?” I asked, proud of myself for managing a steady tone.
“Because you’re going to try to get in their way, and they won’t have a choice but to get rid of you,” Sherry said. “You have a tendency to put yourself in the line of fire.”
“So he just won’t. Right?” Matthew asked, his grief crashing into me. “You’ll stay home. That’s it. Let someone else march, or… I don’t know. Whatever it is.” He looked at Daphne. “It’s just a probability, right? It’s not like it happens for sure.” His eyes were welling up.
“So close? It’s a high probability,” Sherry said in a low and strangled voice. I felt an old pain resurfacing inside her.
“No. No,” Matthew’s voice cracked, “this can’t be true…” Lee leaned in, narrowing the gap between them, and placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder.
“They’re not targeting Reed,” Lee said sternly. “You said so yourself. We’ll protect him. Reed won’t try to be a hero and I’ll go in his place. That should do it.” He looked at Sherry. “Right? You’ll enlist your damuses, and you guys will find a way to fix this.” He was clenching his jaw. I didn’t need to read his determination.
Sherry shifted her gaze from him to Matthew and back to him. “Right,” she said. “We’ll find out what changed, and solve this.” Lee and I were the only ones who could sense the pain inside her.
Lee lowered his hand from Matthew’s shoulder, leaving him looking forlorn and dazed. Lee sent me a perfectly clear, round ball of calm and tranquility. “It’s all I’ve got left,” he said quietly. “I think you need it more than I do right now.”
He got up and turned towards the exit. I wanted to rush after him, but Daphne grabbed my arm, stopping me. Sherry walked after Lee. I followed them with my gaze. The man was still passed out on the floor, his hands and feet cuffed. River ran after Lee; he said a few brief words to his sister, and she turned back.
Oleander was staring at me. I wondered how much of Daphne’s vision he had seen.
Daphne held her arms open, and for once it was my head on her shoulder, comforted by her embrace, and not the other way around. Matthew touched my back, and then it was him hugging me. I felt the tremor of his sobs on my back, and then heard Blaze and River whispering to each other. River was saying something about Lee, and Blaze was silencing her. I closed my eyes, uncontrollable tears pouring out of them.
I heard Sherry in the background calling in her report. Something about the make of the gun, and the device the sorcerer had mounted onto the barrel. I was too flustered to listen, and couldn’t gain my bearings. There were too many things going on and not enough time.
23
The following morning I couldn’t pull myself out of bed. I felt the remnants of Daphne’s depression swimming inside me, all those parts we hadn’t transferred to the cuffed man. My mind was marred with dark blotches, and I had to remind myself that it wasn’t my depression. That it was an external effect. It would pass. I’m fine. I’m not depressed. My head was throbbing so excruciatingly that every move shot bolts of pain from a different, unexpected part of my body.
I had a text from Gaia. I heard nothing happened anywhere last night, expect for a little rioting. Were you involved in anything?
There are sorcerers trying to kill us, and I’m going to die. Everything’s OK, don’t worry. How are your neurons doing?
I got a ninety-three on my physics summer term exam. It’s going to screw up my avarage!
I had the feeling she misspelled the last word on purpose. Sounds like you won’t be winning any spelling bees either.
What can I do. Maibe I go stody art.
I sent her a smiley. The app claimed she was typing, but nothing appeared. She must have reread her reply over and over before sending it.
Aurora said you’ll be our counselor this year.
It’s a shame no one had come up with a way to convey emotions in texts. I could imagine her impassive expression, the attempt not to betray her feelings.
Correct, I replied.
Good, she wrote, and after a moment added, Just remember who called you a geezer first.
I smiled.
My phone rang. Lee’s name flashed on the screen.
“I wanted to see how Daphne was doing.”
She was curled up in her room, dissolving into sobbing fits, flooding me with uncontrollable waves of pain. Every now and then Oleander would come out of her room to ask me to take away some of his pain, so he could support Daphne, which just exacerbated the depression that had already begun to settle inside me.
“She’s fine.” I rubbed my eyes. “And you?”
“Perfect.” His sarcasm was leaking through the phone. “I also wanted to… check on you. Because yesterday… it’s still affecting me.”
I lay supine on the bed staring at the ceiling, at the border splotched with the color of the wall. “What would you like to hear?”
“That you’re OK.” He sounded broken down, beaten. “Perfect.” I tried to sound casual, unencumbered. Lee didn’t laugh. I sighed quietly. “I’m coping.”
“If you want–” he faltered. “I have a few…”
“No,” I said, harsher than I had intended. “I’ll deal with it without–” I was searching for words that wouldn’t offend him. “Without external help. I’m used to it. This isn’t the first flooding vision she’s had.” The last one had been over five years ago, and involved her mother’s death. She knew the treatment would fail two months before her mother was even diagnosed.
“So it’s business as usual?”
“Yes, please.” Without drugging me up and without taking me to places where my brother gets injured. I quickly sat up. “Damn.”
“What is it?” Panic filtered into Lee’s voice.
“I need to go to the police station, give Sherry a report.” It was ten am and hot, and I didn’t want to schlep around on buses; I already felt sticky and gross enough.
“Is it safe for you to leave the house?”
That was one question I actually had an answer for. “What Daphne saw happens at a rally. Rallies only take place at the beginning of the month. So, it’s not going to happen today.” Daphne didn’t know which rally it would be, or why I would find myself at a rally when I knew my life would be at stake there, but at least I knew it wasn’t on the cards for me today.
“I could give you a ride to the station if you want,” Lee said, his voice tapering off into a whisper. As if there was any chance I’d pass on a ride to a police station that was three buses away from my house.
“I’d really love that.” Then I remembered another thing. “You still have that napkin from last night?”
“Yes.”
“Could you bring it?” I was curious to know what he had drawn for me.
“It didn’t come out that great, it’s all crooked.”
I shrugged, even though Lee couldn’t see me. “Bring it anyway, OK?”
“Sure.” I couldn’t read his feelings over the phone.
Lee promised to be at my place within a few minutes, after he got ready. I was surprised he was still at home.
We were out of hot water again, and I grumbled and moaned from the moment I stepped into the shower until I shut the door behind me. Oleander and Daphne had fallen back asleep. I considered texting Matthew, but decided against it. Had I done so, it would have broken his concentration and he wouldn’t be able to keep drowning his feelings in his work.
Lee arrived half an hour later. His migraine started pulsating in my head as he approached the door. So that’s why he hadn’t gone to work. I was wondering whether it was a belated effect of what he had taken last night, or of the depression we had dismantled.
My own head was throbbing, and I felt a lot weaker than usual. But I had maneuvered four people to his one.
He held out his hand when I opened the door. He was unshaven, and there was no print on his T-s
hirt for a change. I started searching for an emotional wave to send him, until I noticed the crumpled napkin in his hand.
“Let’s get it over with,” he said, eyes sullen and unyielding, and handed me the napkin.
I looked him in the eye. “This is the first time anyone has drawn me something. Even if it’s just a crooked doodle, it still makes me very happy.”
Lee exhaled slowly, his features softening. He slightly lowered one of his walls and sent me gratitude. I smiled at him and sealed my walls, blocking him out.
He raised an eyebrow.
“That way I can fake admiration,” I said, and looked down at the napkin.
Lee had drawn me a small kneeling robot holding out a childish heart. It wasn’t an anatomical sketch of a heart, but the kind kids draw, puffy and cute. I couldn’t take my eyes off the drawing. I could make out the places where his pen had quivered, a result of the mush-like state of his brain last night. The emotion was clear and simple.
Any thought about Daphne’s vision faded at the sight of this drawing.
I was conscious of Lee’s shallow breaths beside me; I had to remind myself to breathe normally. I didn’t trust my expression. If I showed too much emotion, it would scare him off. He’d bolt, or burrow behind his walls. I spread out the napkin and carefully inserted a little of what I was feeling. The paper was tissue thin, and the pen had nicked it in a few places. I had to work around the holes so that the feelings wouldn’t drip through them. I injected gentleness, affection and tenderness into the frail paper, and tied the edges. The emotions were only readable on one side of the napkin; the paper could have disintegrated if I had tried injecting them into both.
The Heart of the Circle Page 19
