Sister Seeker

by Shelby Hailstone Law

  I frowned but nodded all the same. “I hate to think that there’s anyone who doesn’t have a say in their own life.”

  “I chose this,” Tara said firmly. “I could hear Time when I was barely old enough to understand her, and she has always been my friend. To me, she is not unknowable but gentle, loving, concerned—she wants to speak to the mortal world through mouthpieces like me, because she wants to see the world progress toward its best potential.”

  “That’s not quite how I’d describe Time,” I said.

  “Few do,” Tara said simply.

  I pressed my lips together as I watched Tara, completely unsure of how to get the conversation back on track. Every answer she gave me seemed either to be an answer to questions I hadn’t yet asked or to open up more questions that I hadn’t even thought to bring to the table—and we hadn’t even been talking that long! “You said . . . you said you told my father something.”

  “Yes,” Tara said, turning her attention back to me. “He asked me his fate, and I gave him what he wanted—though he doesn’t understand what I said.”

  She’s the one who gave the prophecy that names you as The Balance, Lila chimed in helpfully.

  I bit my lip. Hadn’t Lila just said that the words of a prophecy mattered—that I would understand so much more of it if I heard it firsthand from the person who gave that prophecy? And now, here she was, sitting in front of me and talking about Time like it was her best friend in the world.

  “Can you tell me what you told him?” I asked, trying not to sound desperate and knowing that I did anyway.

  Tara raised an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth turned up. “Yes, of course. The words matter, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “Lila told you.” Tara didn’t ask it like a question.

  “I—yes. Do all Future Seekers know each other?” I couldn’t help but ask. After all, Tara sounded so warm when she talked about Lila, and I wasn’t entirely sure if Tara knew about Lila from Time or her own experience.

  Tara laughed lightly. “In a way. We are all connected. It is easier to bond with others who understand the responsibility we bear than it is to connect with those who walk the straight path of linear existence.”

  “Okay. That makes sense . . . I think.” I blinked at Tara a few times and then simply had to shake my head. I was really starting to wonder how anyone could keep up a conversation with a Future Seeker if this was the kind of thing they did.

  If it helps, you can think of Future Seekers as finding friends in the trenches, Lila offered. We’re all in the same situation.

  I frowned at that. That doesn’t exactly help my feeling that you guys aren’t happy doing what you’re doing.

  You do the same thing with the Rendezvous, Lila pointed out. You and your friends put your happiness, safety, and sanity on the line all the time, and you become closer to each other because of it, don’t you? How is this any different?

  I frowned at that. It was a good argument, and I had to admit it—even if the whole concept still made me uncomfortable. But for the moment, I simply had to shake it off and clear my throat, looking back up at Tara. Selfishly, I was glad she didn’t seem to stay focused on any one thing for very long, since it meant she hadn’t noticed the fact that I’d been distracted, too.

  “So,” I said. “About that whole . . . prophecy . . . thing.”

  Tara smiled gently and nodded. “Yes. You need to know the words that have so affected your fate.” She faced me fully, and I was once again struck by the power of her gaze. I was reminded of the first time I’d met Elaine, when I’d felt like she could see right through me. But with Tara, the feeling was stronger than that, like she could not only see through me but also lay my entire life bare in front of my eyes. She commanded the attention of everyone in the house, and silence fell around her.

  And then, when she spoke, I felt like Time stood still for her—and that was the first time that I believed she and Time had a relationship.

  “Peter will be unseated, and you will take his place, but it is not without cost. The war of your family will be its undoing. Brother turns against brother, son against father, father against daughter. And yet there is Balance. Your firstborn will bring you your greatest defeat, but in that firstborn you will also find victory, for your seed will sit on the throne for generations to come.”

  I could feel every beat of my heart in my chest as I tried to force myself to reckon with this prophecy. I’d never actually heard it myself, but Elaine had told me enough times that I was supposed to bring about my father’s downfall. That much was in the prophecy.

  But no one had mentioned the part where I’d ensure my father’s claim to the throne! Sure, Elaine and Andrew had been frank about the fact that my father wanted to use me for his own victories, but this prophecy sounded like a lot more than just “hey, you might help your evil tyrant father do evil tyrant things.” It sounded definitive.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked at last, turning toward Elaine, though I kept glancing toward Tara.

  Elaine bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t believe in prophecies,” she said. “At least, I don’t believe they’re totally unbreakable or that there aren’t ways to interpret them to our advantage.” She seemed unsteady, unsure—which was the biggest indication she could give me that she did, on some level, feel bad about not telling me the whole truth from the start.

  “Then why rely on the prophecy at all?” I demanded.

  “Your father believes in prophecies,” Elaine said. “Wholeheartedly. And he’s going to make tactical decisions based on that belief. That’s why we were looking for you. That’s why we invited you to the Rendezvous. He thinks you’re going to end the war for him—but I’m more interested in the part where you bring him down.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, we don’t think it will be your fault,” Andrew put in, though I noticed he was standing in front of Elaine. Not that I would have expected anything else from him; he always took her side and always came to her defense.

  I glared between the two of them, my hands in fists at my sides. “I don’t want any part of this,” I said through my teeth. “I never have. I was perfectly happy to stay out of your world until I got dragged into it.” When neither Elaine nor Andrew said anything in response, I narrowed my eyes further and then turned on my heel to stalk out of the room. “I need some air.”

  Thankfully, no one followed me as I practically stomped out onto the deck of the house, glaring down the length of the stilts before I finally sat down with my legs over the edge and put my head in my hands.

  Not even Lila interrupted me or tried to say anything as I replayed the words of the prophecy again and again in my head.

  It seemed hopeless to fight on the side of the Rendezvous if I were to believe the prophecy. Tara said that my father would win the war, basically—his claim to the throne for himself and his posterity would win out. And where would that leave Elaine?

  All this time, I’d been operating under the assumption that we were fighting to put her or her father on the throne. That was the whole reason Elaine was fighting back decades of Time itself, trying to hold back an aging process that would catapult her past childbearing age. If she aged too far too fast, it wouldn’t matter if she took the throne, because she wouldn’t have an heir, and then we’d be right back where we started.

  No wonder Time was fighting her so hard. Not only was she holding back decades of life force that Time wanted to claim for itself but she was trying to fight against one of Time’s prophecies.

  The sun was setting on the village as I took my head in my hands and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. I hated this. I hated feeling like I had no control over my own life.

  “I would like to join you,” said a soft voice at my shoulder, and I looked up to see Tara standing a few feet from me with her gaze toward the sky. In the darkness, Tara looked less human than before. Her silhouette was outlined in the faint starligh
t, and her eyes were the brightest things on the deck. “Time shouts if you look too far, and you have to brave her wrath if you venture out into her depths.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for riddles. “What?”

  Tara sighed. “Even for me, for a Future Seeker, the details of the future are not sharp. They form as we make our choices,” she explained gently. “Sometimes, I know exactly what will happen, and sometimes, I only know the words Time has for me.”

  I frowned at that. “And this time?”

  “This time,” she said slowly, “I only know the words. I know details of events to come in this war, but as for its conclusion?” She shook her head. “For all I know, your father’s seed is entombed in a throne room, and that may be his forever seat of power. That is the interpretation King Peter prefers. Do not jump to conclusions; Time has a way of surprising even me.”

  I could sort of see the logic there. But still. . . . “I don’t like this.” It sounded childish, but of everyone around me, I was sure Tara would be the last to call me out on it. She didn’t seem to care much for social cues anyway, so why would she hold anyone to standards of behavior?

  “I have made many prophecies,” Tara said. “Not once has a subject liked their fate. Even your father was furious at the prospect of his greatest defeat.”

  “I’m not my father.”

  “No, but you are his daughter, and you share the same anger at obstacles in your way.” From anyone else, that would have felt like an accusation, a slap in the face. But Tara said it like it was just a matter of fact. And then she moved on. “I would like to stay with you. It is too busy and too loud inside.”

  Faced with such a reasonable request, I couldn’t possibly turn her down. So I simply nodded and shifted to make room so Tara could sit with me, her legs dangling over the side of the deck as we watched the night sky in silence.

  Chapter 5: My Whole Family Is Bad at Communicating

  It doesn’t have to be so difficult.”

  My father was standing in front of me, an almost gentle expression on his face that tried to convince me that he was anything like a caring father. Of course, that probably would have been more convincing if I wasn’t tied to a chair.

  My father reached out to cup my face with one hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek, and I closed my eyes, wincing away. I didn’t want him to touch me—but I couldn’t do anything to stop him.

  “Michelle,” he said gently, “you don’t understand. I want a powerful heir. My sons have been nothing but a disappointment to me. You could take their place. If you would stop fighting me, you could see your potential.”

  “You’d drop me as soon as you found someone else,” I said, opening my eyes—purely to glare at my father.

  “Perhaps,” my father said. He had learned pretty quickly after he captured me that I could tell when people were lying to me, even if he tied me up and kept me from accessing my magic. I didn’t need to cheat with my magic to read body language, and I had seen enough family members from childhood to adulthood that I’d learned how to spot insincerity.

  Sure, this was a step up from knowing who had eaten the last cookies from the cookie jar, but the basic ideas were the same.

  “Still,” my father said, continuing to rub his thumb over my cheek, “I want you on my side, my beautiful little girl. I can force you to help me, but it would be so much easier for both of us if you stood by my side. I know you have had to learn your magic by trial and error. Think what I could teach you. Think of how powerful you could be when you are actually trained. You’re already powerful with nothing but raw magic.” He looked almost proud as he cupped my face with his other hand as well. “You are so much like me, Michelle. You don’t let the rules of magic hold you back.”

  “Leave me alone,” I said, trying to pull my face out of his grasp, but I couldn’t get any distance.

  “No.” My father smiled at me, holding my face still so that I had no choice but to look at him. “You’re going to help me either way. Your fate was decided long before you even knew who you were.”

  “I don’t answer to you,” I said with as much venom as I could muster.

  My father chuckled. “You will,” he said before he finally released my face and stepped back. “Just remember, my dear: you could have saved yourself if you agreed to my terms.”

  I glared after him for a long time—until he slammed the door shut behind him and I let my chin drop nearly to my chest. The truth was that I was tired of fighting my father. I barely understood what was going on; I only knew that I wasn’t going to side with anyone who resorted to torture to make a point.

  I didn’t know what my father had in store for me, but I knew I was going to fight him tooth and nail.

  When I woke up, I could still taste salt and realized that I had been crying—quietly. I quickly sat up and rubbed a hand over my face, glad that Theresa had thought ahead to give me my own room when she offered us a place to stay. Maybe she had known all the memories being dredged up would leave me more emotional than I cared to show in public.

  I had to admit: ever since my father and brother had busted open my head, I was having a harder time keeping my emotions in check. I’d sometimes remember things that left me feeling upset or deeply loved or whatever else I had been feeling at the time of the memory. And that didn’t always relate to my emotions in the present.

  Which, if I was honest, was probably not helping me to be reasonable in dealing with Elaine. But I knew I needed to at least talk to her, even if I had no idea what I’d say. I needed to make my peace with my cousin—or I didn’t know how I could stay with the Rendezvous.

  Eventually, I made my way down to breakfast, where the silence that descended across the table as soon as I walked in told me that my friends had been talking about me.

  I could feel my cheeks burning as I sat down, but even considering how upset I had been the night before, I knew they had every reason to talk about everything I’d been processing myself—the prophecy, the secrets, all of it. And while I was definitely feeling better about my outlook after Tara had come to talk to me, I still didn’t like feeling like Elaine was cherry-picking information to give me, either.

  So I sat down in silence and determinedly didn’t look up at anyone as I ate. I didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to get into a fight that early in the morning when I was still tired from tossing and turning all night worrying about what kind of victory I’d give my evil, abusive father. Even if, like Andrew had said, I didn’t help him willingly, I knew I would still feel the weight of the guilt afterward for whatever part I might unwittingly play. I felt it now, for crying out loud, and nothing had even happened yet!

  It was probably a good thing, then, that Elaine was the one to break the silence. She cleared her throat, though I didn’t look up until she actually put words to her thoughts. “I made a mistake,” she said softly.

  I raised an eyebrow her way, but when she didn’t elaborate, I let out a noise of disbelief and looked back down at my food. She was incredibly bad at this not being right thing. “Yeah.”

  The silence was filled only by the chink of forks on plates before Elaine tried again. “I didn’t tell you the full prophecy because I didn’t know all of the exact words either. Your father was the one who heard it, and I’ve gotten all of my information secondhand. He tried to kill Tara to keep her from telling anyone else exactly what she said, you know.” When that got me to look up again, my eyes still narrowed, she swallowed. “I should have told you more, but by the time I trusted you, I also knew you’d never do anything to help your father on purpose. And . . . and I don’t believe in fate anyway, or I wouldn’t be fighting this fight, would I?”

  “Yeah, but you seemed fine with the part of the prophecy that says I’ll hurt my father,” I pointed out. “You were fine telling me that!”

  “I was, because it’s good encouragement,” Elaine shot back. “And besides, you already know your father did something to your mind. Andrew and I hav
e been saying for a while that we think he’s trying to use you. Did it really matter that he did it because of a prophecy? Are you going to stop fighting to get your mind back because you think you’re fated to win the war for him or something?”

  I bit my lip. I could tell she’d rehearsed this speech, because she was coming across as incredibly reasonable next to my emotional outburst. And I did know that, to some extent, I was the one being unfair. The Rendezvous really hadn’t hidden too much from me, especially if the exact words were lost to them. And if I’d heard when I first joined up that I was going to destroy them all, I probably would have put as much distance between me and them as possible and put myself at even greater risk.

  But I figured I was allowed a bit of an emotional breakdown after hearing my own future laid out before me—regardless of the details—right? Right.

  On the other hand, with every new memory I added to my collection of scattered pieces, I knew that I was the adult in the room—at least when it came to Elaine and Andrew and my human friends. I tried to remind myself that I had seen family members into adulthood several times over and showed more patience than this.

  Finally, I let my shoulders drop and glanced up at Elaine. She looked sincere, honestly worried about how her actions had hurt me—and that, more than anything, was what convinced me to finally be the adult instead of the dramatic teenager that I still sometimes felt like I was. “Yeah,” I said in a soft breath. “Sorry. I needed time to process everything. I wasn’t expecting to come here and find out that I’m going to, what, put Christopher on the throne?”

  “Oh, please don’t let that be the meaning of that part of the prophecy,” Andrew said, his expression showing his clear distaste. “I might never be able to speak to you again.”