The Seers

by Julianna Scott

  Bastian made a small sweeping gesture toward the conversation, eyeing me sideways. When he’d called down to order the dessert, I’d given him a hard time for using too much detail, though it would appear that he’d known what he was doing – and wanted to make sure I knew it.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mouthed with an eye roll, inwardly happy that he was keeping his sense of humor about him, at least to a small degree.

  The waiter began to fidget as the silence drug on until finally Molony snipped, “Just leave it!”

  The waiter did as he was ordered and set the tray down in front of the door, then took off toward the staircase as fast as a walk would allow. He barely had time to make it down to the first landing before I heard the shuffle of a lock, squeak of a doorknob, and groan of underused hinges echoing through the hall. Molony’s door was open, but only a few inches at most, and I could see him peering out into the hall like he expected there to be an angry mob with torches waiting for him – which I suppose he did, though we didn’t have torches… damn it.

  After checking both sides of the hall a half dozen or so times, he must have decided the coast was clear and took to examining the tray at his feet. He looked at it, nudged it with his foot, bent down for a closer look, looked under the upside-down coffee cup, checked under the cloche, and even lifted the lid to the coffee urn and gave it a skeptical smell before he was even willing to lift the tray off the floor. Jocelyn had been right; this guy was as paranoid as they came. Good thing Alex was able to keep Bastian’s anchor hidden or there was no way he wouldn’t have found it.

  Once another thorough inspection of the tray was done, this time at eye level, he finally looked satisfied that it was safe, and took it with him back into the room, securing what sounded like three separate sets of locks the moment the door closed.

  “All right,” Bastian said, wrapping one of his hands around my arm and the other around Alex’s, “here we go. Whenever you’re ready,” he added, looking at me.

  Concentrating my ability on Bastian’s, I channeled my power into his just as I’d done for Jocelyn in the graveyard. This boost allowed him to port both Alex and I simultaneously, and a moment later the three of us were in the center of Molony’s darkened guestroom. Luckily for us, Molony’s back was turned as we arrived, giving Alex the time to hide Bastian and himself before Molony saw them, leaving what would appear to be only me standing there in the shadows.

  I took a deep breath, but I wasn’t nervous. I was decidedly calm, turning the steady pulse of thumping anger I felt into a driven focus. Reaching into my pocket, I let my hand rest against the Iris and did a quick scan of the abilities currently in the manor, finding the ones I was confident in using so they would be ready when the time came.

  And I was ready. This guy was mine.

  “Good evening Mr Molony.”

  At the sound of my voice, he spun around with a gasp, dropping the tray he still held at his feet. “Who?...” he gasped again, raising a shaking finger at me. “How did you get in here?! What do you think you’re doing, barging into my private room?”

  I could tell he was angry, but I could also see that his harsh tone and scowl were attempting to cover up how rattled and even scared he was. “I’m here,” I said, “because you and I need to have a conversation. My father, Jocelyn Clavish, was abducted a short while ago. I know you are working with the men who took him, and I know you know where they have gone.”

  His expression didn’t falter even for an instant as I spoke, and had I not been standing five feet away from him, I’d have wondered if he heard me. Just when I thought he wouldn’t respond at all, his eyes flashed and suddenly he lunged toward me with his hand out in front of him like a claw, ready to latch onto the first bit of skin it touched. Unfortunately for him, I was ready. Cormac had told us that he needed physical contact in order to read and remove memories, so I’d assumed he try something like this as soon as he realized that I had information he didn’t want me having. I found the nearest kinetic, assumed his ability, and had Molony’s hand frozen in midair before it had made it even halfway to my arm.

  “That,” I said, forcing his entire body backwards until he was a safe distance away, “is not how this is going to go.”

  “Do you have any idea who I am?” he growled, not as phased by my kinetic demonstration as I’d hoped he’d be.

  Time to up my game.

  I forced him down into a chair and pinned his arms and legs to the upholstered frame. As he struggled pointlessly against my hold, I kinetically raised all the items that had fallen from the room service tray along with several other objects from around the room and began to make them fly them around the room, circling Molony’s chair. As the objects started to pick up speed, I lifted the chair Molony was trapped in off the ground, letting him hover in the air as the flatware and knick-knacks orbited him like out of control comets.

  “I know exactly who you are,” I said, as in the midst of the controlled chaos I found the nearest Imparter and made a second connection with my ability. “The question is,” I imparted, “do you know who I am?”

  The shock I’d been waiting to see finally widened his eyes. “You…? How…?”

  He was clearly at a loss, but I wasn’t done. For the first time I was embracing what was within me, and I knew if we were going to get what we needed, I had to show this guy exactly who he was dealing with. I wasn’t scared of my power anymore and I wasn’t going to let anything limit me; not when there were people I cared about in danger.

  As Molony hung in the air in front of us, I reached out again, this time melding with Alex. He had not yet had a chance to properly teach me how to cast, but that didn’t worry me. It wasn’t that I thought I could master the ability without instruction, as that would be far too reckless, but with the Iris to help me, I was confident I could use his Casting ability well enough to make the point. Careful to limit my cast to only the eyes of those in the room, I began to almost effortlessly morph the image of the space around us, twisting and deforming it slowly at first and then faster until finally, Molony found himself no longer floating near the familiar comforts of his guestroom, but the charred branches and haunting smoke of a fire-ravaged forest.

  As our disillusioned Mentalist tried to keep his composure, I stepped forward, imparting to him once more over the cast crackle of the flames and howl of the wind. “And… do you know what I can do? In a word: everything.”

  He didn’t reply, but sank further back into his chair when the items whirling around him moved faster and faster, blowing my hair back with the stream of wind they created. The images of billowing smoke began to thicken, closing in around him while I sent a bolt of lightning ripping though the sky. Faster, brighter, louder, building, building, building, until finally I saw the first flash of real terror streak across his face and I knew I had him where I needed him. I instantly severed all bonds with my assumed abilities, and as abruptly as turning off a light, the scene ended. The cast images of the fiery forest disappeared, and Molony’s chair came crashing down to the floor of his guestroom with a thud while the plates, flatware, and other items came raining down around him.

  Relaxing my stance, I walked toward him as he sat slumped over in the chair trying to catch his breath. “So,” I said, hooking my thumbs onto the pockets of my jeans, “here’s how this is going to go: I need information that you have. I could go into your mind and find what I need for myself, but I really don’t think you want me to have to do that. So instead, you can tell me what I need to know voluntarily, and when I am satisfied that I have what I need, you and I will part ways like this never happened. What do you say?”

  He stared up at me, the shock on his face quickly turning to contempt. “Even if I do know what happened to Clavish, what makes you think I’d be willing to tell you?”

  “Because something tells me you want to stay on good terms with your boss.”

  “You’re out of your league, princess.” I knew his words were meant to shame me, but I could
see that what I’d said had struck a nerve. For as much as he tried to hide it, there was a twinge of fear hidden behind his bravado – a twinge I intended to use.

  “He must trust you quite a bit,” I said, ignoring his comment. “After all, if I’m understanding things right, you are the only person other than Darragh himself who knows pretty much everything there is to know. Anytime someone does something that could be at all traced back to him, you swoop in and remove the memory of whatever they did, leaving you the only person who knows what happened. I have to give Darragh credit, it’s actually pretty ingenious. He can have dozens of people working for him, yet only one who knows enough damaging information to ever really be a threat. That’s a lot of power – but power always comes at a price.”

  “Is that meant to be a threat?”

  “No, this is a warning. What I said before is true; when it comes to abilities, I can do anything, which includes Mentalism. If I wanted, I could take the information I need right from your mind, but here’s the thing… I’m not very good at it. I haven’t had enough practice, I guess,” I shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure if I were to give it a go, I’d be able to find what I need, but odds are I’d make quite a mess in the process – a mess that a practiced mind reader like Darragh would be bound to notice.” It took a moment for my words to sink in, but when they did, Molony’s face paled. “Tell me,” I went on, “how do you think Darragh would react if he found out that your mind – the mind that contains more damaging information than any other – had been compromised? Would he move you into another line of work? Maybe retire you and pay out your pension?” Again he didn’t speak, but his face answered for him. “No… I don’t think so either.”

  “You’re bluffing,” he scowled, but his voice was thin.

  Yes I was.

  “You’re right, I could be,” I said, “but that’s not a risk I’d be willing to take if I were you. But no matter what you decide to do, I will learn everything you know about where my father has been taken and why. So what will it be; will you tell me what you know willingly, or do I have to rummage my way through your mind like a bronco though a glass house?”

  After a long pause he finally spoke. “I suppose I have little choice,” he said begrudgingly, unwilling to admit that the choice had been an easy one.

  “Thank you,” I nodded, still serious.

  “You want to know where Clavish was nicked off to? He’s at Cuniff, one of Darragh’s many family estates.”

  Cuniff. We had a name.

  The sudden relief was so strong it surprised me, but I couldn’t let it throw off my focus. There was still more to learn. I crossed my arms and pushed on. “Why?”

  “There is a book of notes that we have been trying to decipher for some time now.”

  “Ciaran’s journal,” I said, “yes, I already know about that. What does that have to do with Jocelyn?”

  For the first time since meeting him a slight grin pulled at his face. “He figured out how to read it.”

  “What?” I tried to make sure my surprise came across as skepticism, but I’ll admit I was thrown, and I suddenly realized why Alex had hidden Bastian and himself from me as well as Molony. No way I wouldn’t have slipped and glanced at one of them had I been able to see them. “Why would you think that?”

  “We came to learn that Clavish and the old man were interested in Shea, so we were told to keep an eye on them.”

  “Fine, but that doesn’t answer my question. Why do you think Jocelyn can read the journal?”

  “Darragh has… ways of learning these things.”

  He may have thought that was an answer, but I wasn’t playing games. My eyes narrowed as I stepped forward. “I’m only going to ask you one more time.”

  “The fháil,” he said, finally as his upper lip quivered angrily. “He had a fháil planted in Jocelyn’s room.”

  I had no idea what that was, but I wasn’t about to let him know that so I moved on. “And the journal? Is Cuniff where he’s keeping that too?”

  Molony shook his head. “He will not have the book at Cuniff, only a page of it to use for testing.”

  “So where is the rest of it?”

  “I don’t know. No one does – not even Darragh.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “That is the only way it can remain completely protected. When he first came into possession of the journal and realized it could not be read, Darragh placed a call charm on it then sent it off with one of his lieutenants, instructing him to hide it – but not before Darragh removed one of its pages.”

  “He could use the page to locate the book when he figured out how to read it,” I mused aloud.

  Molony nodded. “And use it as a way to test different methods of deciphering the writing. It is likely that Darragh will have Clavish read the page before he attempts to locate the entire journal.”

  “What about the lieutenant? He could always go back and get the journal for himself, couldn’t he? Or did Darragh have you remove the memory of where he hid it so now you are the only one who knows? Because if that’s the case, of course you know you’ll be telling me that too.”

  “Much as I hate to disappoint,” he said, clearly enjoying it, “it’s a no to both. Darragh didn’t want anyone to know where it was, so my services were not required. And as for the lieutenant, when he returned and verified that he had indeed hidden the journal where no one would be able to find it, Darragh saw to it that he was silenced – permanently. Darragh is now the only one who has the means to locate Shea’s journal, so if finding it was one of your goals, I would highly suggest you reconsider.”

  Normally this new development would have upset me, but as it was, the journal no longer mattered. All that mattered was getting Jocelyn and Steven back unharmed, and if that meant we had to give up on finding out what Ciaran had seen, then so be it.

  “How do I find Cuniff?”

  “You don’t. Or, that is to say, you can’t.”

  “Would you care to elaborate?” I prompted when it didn’t seem like he would go on.

  “It’s located roughly twenty miles north of here, but where it is doesn’t matter. Like all of Darragh’s properties, it has fortress charm over it. So I’m afraid you are out of luck.”

  Before I could reply, a cast message from Alex appeared in my line of sight. “If it has a fortress charm then he probably has a pass-stone. Ask him for it.”

  “OK, so then it looks like I’ll need your pass-stone,” I said smoothly, hoping he wouldn’t realize that I didn’t actually know what I was asking for.

  He hesitated glancing away, practically announcing his coming lie. “I don’t have one.”

  “Come on,” I rolled my eyes, “we both know that’s not true.”

  He grit his teeth as his anger flared back up. “You told me that if I helped you, Darragh would not find out.”

  “Yes, and I meant it.”

  “Bollocks!” he spat. “You claim to want to keep your word, yet you plan to use my pass-stone to rescue Clavish?”

  “I don’t understand why that’s a problem.”

  “Each stone is unique. All Darragh has to do is see and he will know it’s mine”

  “Then I will make sure he doesn’t see it.”

  “And how do you plan to do that? Do you honestly believe that Darragh will not wonder how you were able to pass through his charm unnoticed? He will find it and I will be done for!”

  “It doesn’t matter what I plan to do,” I told him. “All that matters is that I promise you, no matter what happens, Darragh will not see your stone.”

  He looked up with a sneer. “If you honestly believe that I would trust you, you are a fool.”

  “That may well be, but as you stated so eloquently earlier, you don’t really have a choice.”

  His hateful sting in his eyes lashed at me like a live wire, but I held my ground without so much as a flinch, waiting for him to cave. At first I was confident, but as the seconds ticked by, I s
tarted to worry that he’d reached his limit and that I’d have to actually make good on my threat to read his mind. Much as we needed his pass-stone – whatever it was – I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it. Or, for that matter, if I’d be able to figure out how it was done should I try. What if I accidentally erased the very memory I was looking for? Then where would we be?

  I was about to give him one last chance to tell me, when I saw his eyes slide over to the floor by the dresser. There were a few different things scattered there thanks to my earlier demonstration, but the one his gaze pointed to was a gold pocket watch that I’d taken from the dressing table and added into my little kinetic tornado. When I stooped down to grab it, I realized that it was quite a bit heavier than it ought to have been, and when I opened the cover I saw why. Inside where the clock face and working mechanisms should have been, there was a fat round rock about the size of a silver dollar and at least three times as thick, that had etching on the surface of it. I turned it out into my hand and looked to Molony for confirmation.

  “There,” he said from between his teeth. “take it… and get out.”

  CHAPTER 30

  “Yes, that is a pass-stone all right,” Min confirmed, turning it in her hand. She and Anderson had left Lorcan for Adare shortly after receiving the call from Cormac, and were now sitting with the rest of us in Cormac’s room as we finalized our plan.

  “And what does it do, exactly?” I asked.

  “It is the only way to breach a fortress charm,” she said.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what that is either.”

  “A fortress charm is a variation on a protection charm that allows the Alchemist who casts it to have control over who enters their premises and how they are allowed to leave. It is cast on a building or some other confined space, and prevents anyone from seeing the charmed area, entering it, or using any transporting abilities while within it.”