The Seers

by Julianna Scott

  “Anything?” Cormac asked.

  Jocelyn shook his head, rubbing his eyes like he was massaging a headache. “No. Or at least nothing I can make out. There are fragments of something toward the end of his life, but there is so little it’s like trying to reach out and grab smoke.”

  Cormac took a step toward him. “Could you see if anyone has been here before us? Was anything tampered with or changed at all?”

  “No,” Jocelyn answered, “there were no signs of anyone else even so much as having tried to read him. We are the first. Not that it’s done us any good,” he added with a frustrated scoff.

  “Well,” Cormac said, attempting to lighten the mood, “at least we tried. And now we can rest assured that no one else will be able to garner anything from Mr Shea, so all in all, not a wasted trip.”

  But Jocelyn wasn’t ready to leave. “I want to give it one more go,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face then turning back toward the grave.

  Cormac frowned, walking up beside him. “Jocelyn, enough. You’ve done what you can, there is no need to give your mind a beating over it.”

  “No,” Jocelyn snapped, “there is something there…” He paused sighing heavily, shame suddenly hanging on his brow. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to–”

  “It’s nothing,” Cormac cut him off quietly, clapping him gently on the arm with a smile, “it’s nothing.”

  As I watched the simple exchange between the two men, I saw something in Jocelyn that I would never have thought I’d see. It was something I doubted that many others would have even recognized, but I knew it the moment I saw it in his eyes – because I had seen it so many times in my own.

  It was burden.

  It was the weight of being special. The pressure of knowing that he was the second most powerful Holder on earth, and the belief that as such he should have been able to do this, but he couldn’t. It was the fear of disappointing everyone who was counting on him, worried that he might let us down.

  Yeah, I knew all about that – I felt it every day. Jocelyn might have been the second most powerful Holder, but if those damned prophecies were true, then I was the first. I was the one who was supposed to bring an end to Darragh, and save Holder kind, and a bunch of other stuff I’d basically blocked out and buried. But just because I’d gotten really good at ignoring my so-called destiny, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t always there, hovering in the back of my mind, sprinkling every one of my thoughts with just the tiniest hint of fear and self-doubt. For the time being I was able to fight it, but deep down I knew a day would come where I wouldn’t be able to beat it back anymore.

  “We came all the way out here,” Jocelyn continued. “I should at least give it one more try.”

  With an encouraging nod, Cormac came back to join Alex and I on the path while Jocelyn took a deep breath and reassumed his position over the grave. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do. He was the only one who could even attempt to do a memory reading like this, and even if we could find someone else, they wouldn’t be as powerful as Jocelyn nor would we have any idea whether or not we could actually trust them. If only there was a way to add to Jocelyn’s power and maybe… give him a boost…

  But maybe… Could I…?

  Without taking the time to think it through, I gently reached out toward Jocelyn’s ability, melding it with my own. This would normally be the point when I would be able to assume the ability of the person I was connected to, but due to a block Min had placed on my scaith, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to draw his ability into me… but could I push mine out to him?

  I focused on the glow of Jocelyn’s ability in my mind, but instead of pulling it toward me as I normally would, I began to funnel my own power into it as slowly and carefully as I could, feeling the two energies swirl together and change, like pouring red punch into lemonade. As I watched the globe of power grow, I got excited. Was it working? Had I really–

  “Gah!” Jocelyn suddenly gasped, his whole body pitching forward as his hands fisted the grass.

  Oh God, what had I done?

  Immediately I broke all connection with him and stumbled backward, terrified he was hurt. “I’m sorry!”

  “Oh my!” Cormac cried out, reaching for Jocelyn.

  “I’m fine,” Jocelyn assured him, breathless. “I’m fine. It was just all at once… there was so much…”

  “What happened?” Alex asked, putting his arm around me as I stood motionless, my hands shaking.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered again. “I didn’t mean to… I’m… I’m sorry…”

  Jocelyn looked up at me, still clutching the ground. “That…” he asked, attempting to catch his breath. “That was you?” I couldn’t decide if the look in his eyes was shock, fear, or awe, but in any event I didn’t like it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… thought it might help…”

  “It did,” he said, squinting almost as if he was confused by his own words. He stood slowly, glancing at the grave then back to me. “Do it again.”

  “But,” I motioned down to the patch of ground he occupied a second ago.

  “It’s all right.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  His eyes softened as he shook his head. “It didn’t hurt,” he assured me, “it simply caught me off guard. I’ll be ready this time.”

  Burrowing myself just a little deeper into Alex’s side, I nodded, still unsure, but willing to trust Jocelyn’s judgment. If he said he’d be able to handle it then we had to at least try. I should have been happy to finally get a chance to help, and part of me was. But there was a much larger part of me that was still reeling from seeing Jocelyn fall to the ground, not knowing what I might have done to him. No one had ever reacted so violently to anything I’d done with my ability, and the idea that I could actually hurt someone without even realizing it, wasn’t one I enjoyed. Making a mental note to never do anything to anyone again without first asking permission, I took a deep breath and looked up. “OK.”

  Once again Jocelyn turned back toward Ciaran’s grave, and once again I joined our abilities and began to slowly feed my strength into his, watching him closely for any signs of pain or distress. The moment our abilities melded, I did see a slight waver in his stance, but instead of sending him to his knees, it seemed to flow through him, easing the tightness in his muscles and relaxing the strain from his face. When he closed his eyes a few seconds later and a slight grin lit his face, it didn’t look as though he was working at all.

  “There are scattered partial memories,” he began, “but only one full enough to read. It is from the last day of his life. It’s a prophecy, something regarding his journal…”

  The journal again. There had to be something to that thing…

  “It looks as though this prophecy was his last one.”

  “That’s probably why it’s still so strong,” Cormac mused quietly.

  “But it is only a portion of it,” Jocelyn said, his brow furrowing slightly. “The first line was written earlier in the day, but I can’t make it out. This memory only contains the second half.” He paused again while we waited anxiously. “…can pierce the shroud…” he dictated, finally needing to concentrate a bit, “…of my sight.” I waited for more, but after that, he opened his eyes and stepped away from the grave.

  “Wait, that’s it?” That couldn’t be it.

  “That’s all,” he nodded, and I broke our connection.

  “‘Can pierce the shroud of my sight’; what does that even mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. We need the first half, but that portion of his memory is gone.”

  “And there was nothing in the memories that were left saying what it meant?”

  “I could only see that he seemed to believe that it was in regard to his journal, but that was all.”

  “Hmm,” Cormac hummed thoughtfully. “Odd for a Seer to know what a vision pertains to.”

  �
��What do you mean?” I asked

  “Seers only receive messages, not their meanings. Unless it contains a specific reference, prophecies tend to be very vague and their wording cryptic.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” I grumbled.

  Cormac turned to Jocelyn who joined us back on the path. “And there was nothing else? Perhaps earlier in his life?”

  “Nothing discernible,” he said shaking his head, “only fragments too small to read.”

  “Wait,” I interjected, turning to Jocelyn. “You said that the first part of the prophecy had been written earlier that day? As in written down onto something? Was he writing the part that you saw?”

  “Yes,” he cocked an eyebrow at me. “There was a side table next to the bed he was in.”

  “Was the first part of the prophecy on that same page?”

  “Possibly, but I’m not positive. He wasn’t looking at the page while he was writing, so anything else on it wasn’t a part of the memory.”

  “But he wrote it that day, and if that was the day he died, he probably didn’t get out of that bed…” I tapered off, almost laughing at where my train of thought was taking me.

  She was going to flip...

  “What are you getting at?” Alex asked from my side.

  “Don’t you see?” I said. “Sounds to me like all we need is the room where he died… and a Time Walker.”

  CHAPTER 15

  It only took about half the drive back to the manor to convince Jocelyn to bring Chloe out to be our Time Walker. He’d agreed that time walking back to Ciaran’s last day and reading the prophecy for ourselves would be the best way to proceed, but getting him to see that Chloe was our best choice for our walker took a little convincing. However, with Alex and even Cormac on my side, it wasn’t long before he saw that Chloe was truly the only option. There weren’t any other walkers at Adare that we were certain we could trust, and although Chloe wasn’t a powerful enough walker to be able to get what we needed on her own, if I was able to help her the way I had Jocelyn, she should have no problem getting us the remainder of the prophecy.

  When we arrived back at the manor, Jocelyn went to call Mr Anderson and tell him that he would be bringing Chloe with him when he came out. After that, he and Cormac were due to meet with Brassal and a few of the other men for drinks and billiards in one of the lounges where they planned to try and find out where Ciaran might have spent his final days. They took Alex with them so that he could do some invisible poking of his own, while I, on the other hand, was off to nowhere, to do another round of nothing. Awesome.

  I made my way back to my room, irritated that my bout of usefulness in the cemetery had been so short lived, and I realizing how tired I was getting of being the only one who never seemed to have a job to do other than take up space. Sure I was supposed to do “research,” but until we actually got the books from the archives I couldn’t even start that, and pretty much everything else I’d tried to do thus far – talk to Steven, spy on Bastian, and so on – had gotten me into trouble. But at least my room was safe, and actually, I was feeling a little worn out from the ordeal in the cemetery and could use a rest. But sadly, there was no rest to be had.

  “Becca!” I heard Alva call just before I could make it into the hallway.

  Great. “Hello,” I smiled, turning to greet her.

  “I’m so glad I caught you, dear,” she said, coming up and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I was just on my way to your room.”

  “Oh?” No way this was headed anywhere good…

  “Yes, I was coming to let you know that the reception tonight for all the young Holders has been moved from the terrace to the library.”

  “Reception?” Guess I should have read that itinerary I got at check in.

  “Oh yes, it’s a wonderful time. There will be food and music and all the younger members of our company will be there. You know, without all us old folk getting in the way,” she winked, making what I assumed was a joke. “We will all be having dinner downstairs, so you will have the place to yourselves.”

  “We don’t all have dinner together?” I asked. How was I going to get out of this if I didn’t have Jocelyn or Cormac to use as an excuse?

  “No, not tonight. The second night is always our social evening. The first night is the gala, then the social, then we will all be back together tomorrow night for dinner and the theater troupe performance.”

  “That sounds like fun.” God help me.

  “Wonderful!” she beamed. “And I will make sure to let Bastian know you will be there tonight so he doesn’t miss you.”

  I tried not to cringe as her eyes twinkled mischievously. She really was trying to get Bastian and I together. I didn’t know what pissed me off more: the idea that she was treating me like a broodmare for her prized stud, or the fact that she was actually lending credence to his cover story. Unable to fake the sort of response I knew she wanted, I simply did my best to smile, which seemed to be enough. She patted my arm once more before turning back the way she’d come, leaving me to resume the walk to my room.

  When I finally got there, I kicked my shoes off and flopped onto my freshly made bed, trying to fight away the knot of dread already rolling around in my stomach. A room full of teenaged Holders, staring, whispering and judging me, with no Jocelyn to draw any of the attention away. Oh yeah, this was going to be great.

  As I kicked back the covers and snuggled down into the mountain of pillows, I did my best to look on the bright side. After all, I would have Alex there with me to keep me company. Actually, it could be nice, the two of us together, no Jocelyn hanging over our shoulder. Of course we would still have to be careful, but at least we could be seen together without raising suspicion. It would simply be me, hanging out with the only other person there that I knew – nothing weird or suspicious about that. Hell, if we played our cards right, it might almost be like a date. And then maybe after the reception…

  With a smile I dozed off, just maybe looking forward to the evening after all.

  “What do you mean you’re not coming?”

  “I’m sorry, Leannán,” Alex said as he adjusted his tie. “I wasn’t invited to the youth reception, my invite is for the adult dinner.”

  I was beyond miffed. After my nap, I’d gotten all ready for the reception, fully believing that Alex and I would be going together. I’d come down to meet him so that we could walk up together, but instead of being in his own room I had found him in Jocelyn’s, dressed and ready to go – just not with me.

  “That’s crap,” I said. “You’re not an adult.”

  Alex cocked his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

  “You know what I mean,” I rolled my eyes, “not an adult like them.” I waved at Jocelyn and Cormac.

  “The old men,” Cormac chuckled as he checked his tie in the mirror.

  “No,” Alex said, “but I am twenty-two. They have to draw the line somewhere.”

  “Yeah, but you’re close enough. Couldn’t they have at least asked?”

  “There was no need to ask,” Jocelyn said, taking his sport coat off the hanger and sliding it on. “As far as anyone knows, Alex is here as my associate. They would have had no reason to think that he would have any interest in the reception for the younger members. The fact that they included him in the invitation at all is fortunate, so we are not about to complain.”

  “Well, there is no way I am going to this thing by myself,” I said, fully prepared to spend the rest of the night in my room.

  “Oh yes you are,” Jocelyn said, straightening his cuffs. “Everyone here will either be up at the reception or at dinner with us, and you will not be the only person missing.”

  “No one will even notice,” I insisted, though I could already tell I was yelling at a wall.

  “We both know that is not true,” he said, turning off the lamp, “and we also agreed that you would do everything you could not to draw undo attention to yourself, and hiding in your room will do exactly that.”

&
nbsp; “Fine,” I sighed, realizing there was no way I was going to win this. “But I am leaving the second it becomes socially acceptable to do so.”

  “Which will not be before 9 o’clock,” he added for me.

  “Nine?” I whined, but was interrupted by Alex taking my shoulders and turning me around.

  “Come on,” he laughed, as he guided me toward the door. “Don’t make it worse.”

  A few minutes later, after bidding the men a bitter farewell, I took to the stairs like a convict to the guillotine, each step slower than the last. Truth be told, I could have gotten out of it, but that would’ve meant that I would have had to tell Jocelyn the truth; that I was scared. Scared of having to deal with all the staring and whispering on my own. Scared that Shannon would be there talking about me to anyone who would listen. Scared that I would have to admit to myself that I wasn’t as tough as I’d always thought I was. And I couldn’t do that. I wanted Jocelyn to know that I could be relied on as an active member of the Order, and allowing him to find out that I was worried about idle gossip and catty bullies would not help my case. So off to the reception I went.

  As I neared the library and began to see other Holders my age, I decided that if I had to spend the evening socializing, I might as well make the most of it. When I’d met Shannon’s father that afternoon, I’d decided that I’d had enough of being intimidated by strangers, and I meant it. I was done hiding and ready to take this auburn haired bull by the horns and show her that I was not about to be daunted by anyone, especially not someone I thought as little of as her.

  With my new plan driving me, I set my sights on the library keeping my chin held high, pretending not to notice all the eyes following me as I made my way up to the door. The long room hummed with voices as I made my way in, scanning the dozens of faces for my target. I spotted her about half way down the length of the room to my right. Here we go; this was it. I was going to walk up to her, introduce myself, and end this nonsense once and for all. Shannon Gallagher, prepare to be met.