“How come this isn’t common knowledge? Why have I never heard of Astor?”
“I doubt the afterworld knows much about it. They aren’t allowed into gifted towns. If they enter, they’re imprisoned.”
“No one ever mentioned it to me. It makes absolutely no sense to keep me in the dark about everything.”
“I thought so, too, at first. But when I was leaving, something about the welcome sign caught my attention. Astor, Oregon. It didn’t say founded by Astor Havilah.”
“He changed his name?”
Jonas nodded. “Astor, Oregon. Founded in 1842.” He glanced around them to see if anyone was around. “By Astor Raive.”
She didn’t move.
“Do you understand?”
She didn’t want to. She felt the urge to plug her ears.
Jonas lowered his voice. “Syrus Raive was his son. Syrus Raive was a Havilah, too.”
And a murderer. The name was a verbal punch to the gut. She leaped to her feet. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she couldn’t be there anymore. She didn’t want to be her anymore.
She started running through rows of yellow carnations and continued on through anemones swaying in an invisible wind. Jonas cut in front of her.
“I’m sorry, Alex. You don’t deserve all this.”
“Every time!” she screamed. “Every time I find out something new, I hate myself even more!”
She felt water streaming down her cheeks. How? How in the world could she possibly produce tears? Nothing about this place made sense.
“That could be why they don’t want you to know. This would be a lot for anyone.”
“Someone wants me to know! You said that’s why they sent you here. You won’t even tell me who wants me to know this!” Alex fell to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest.
“You aren’t related to Sephi Anovark.”
Then how on earth would she look identical to her? “You didn’t tell them that, did you?”
“No, I didn’t tell them.”
Of course not. They probably wouldn’t have been so nice to him for knowing her. She bent and scooped up a handful of dirt and threw it at the pretty flowers mocking her. “Why do these people you’re with want me to know this? To torture me?”
“They want you to know the truth. And the gifted want you to know the truth. But the gifted, they allowed me to leave freely for another reason.”
“Oh, God, Jonas. I can’t take much more.”
He held up his hands. “This isn’t anything about you. This is about the Truce March.”
She covered her face with her hands. “What about it?”
“You can’t go.”
“Why do they care? Isn’t it supposed to be about love and harmony?”
“That would sound stupid even if it was true. The gifted would have imprisoned me for crossing territory lines. That doesn’t sound peaceful to me.”
“What do I do?”
“If it was me, I’d do nothing.”
“What?”
“Stop searching. Do nothing. Don’t support the Truce March. Don’t oppose it. Do absolutely nothing.” He sighed. “Let the world sort itself out.”
Chapter Nineteen
Alex didn’t breathe a word of Jonas’s visit to anyone. All Soul’s Day approached, and even the most prominent of spirits either worked to finish the final touches in Eidolon or helped in Moribund. Alex hadn’t spent the entire month slaving away at the Mansion of Morgues, so the party felt like less of a celebration and more of a reminder that time here aged quickly like dusk.
The longer she was dead, the more fulfilled she felt by information (as long as it had nothing to do with her past). She was an open, empty book, and the more lines she was able to fill, the stronger she felt, so she was relieved when sessions resumed in November and she could have a structured schedule again. And, more than anything, she had Chase back again.
She missed the hum of his presence next to her class. She missed the notes he’d write on his paper, saying hello or telling her what he was thinking about, even though he could slip into her mind and whisper it to her. There was something childishly fun about looking next to her and seeing him turn his paper toward her to ask if she remembered the time they snuck out at midnight one summer to play pirates on a boat in the Parrish marina. She used a bubble wand as a sword but dropped it in the water, and without thinking, Chase dove in to retrieve it. When he explained his wet, seaweed-stained clothes to his mother in the morning, she hired a locksmith to work magic on his window. Danya never realized that her sons learned to pick locks when they were still in diapers.
Alex grinned reading the story now in Chase’s handwriting.
What made you think of that? she wrote on her paper.
Your hair was in one of those braids over your shoulder that night. Like it is now. Well, a little messier.
His brothers used to joke that Alex went around sticking her fingers in electrical sockets. Danya used to buy so many products to try to tame Alex’s curly hair. Nothing worked.
She notated Dr. Massin’s objectives: Continue to discuss basic causes for hatred.
Dr. Massin straightened her cropped blazer and patted the French twist in her hair. “We are an overly intelligent civilization to say the least, but that isn’t always in our favor. Our living brains were hardwired a certain way, and it amplifies when the mind is given freedom in the afterworld. We have a basic need to survive, and our survival instincts teach us self-protective actions. Outsiders are threats. That is our natural way of thinking. We aren’t comfortable with differences because we don’t like uncertainty. We fear it.”
Alex followed Dr. Massin’s gaze to Pax, who sat straight-backed in the front row, watching their professor through her thick glasses while her pen moved in frenzy. For what, Alex thought, could she possibly use glasses in the afterlife? Little slouched next to Pax and twirled the pink streak in her brown hair.
“All of that is amplified for us. Do we need to deal with it? Yes.” She directed a smile at Jack, Carr, and Reuben.
“The spirited must learn to live together.” A light zapped above Dr. Massin’s head. “We share the earth with the bodied. A dispute has been going on for centuries, and the outcome is always the same. For our safety and theirs, it’s best to keep our worlds separated. They wouldn’t understand it. The gifted are hybrids, bodied and spirited, and it’s dangerous to allow them to choose which rules to obey. Lost Ones don’t follow our society laws. The mentally broken, or banshees, can’t understand those laws. That is why we live to exist with the spirited, and the spirited only.”
Above her head, one of the objectives highlighted yellow. Society’s system for dealing with deviation and disobedience.
“Your law training was cut short by extenuating circumstances, so your class of newburies has a limited range of understanding when it comes to our system of justice.”
There was a moment of awkward silence for the missing Professor Van Hanlin.
“It’s much easier than the system in place for the bodied. We break a law, and you face several Revealers at different times. Revealers are a foolproof jury; they can tell if a spirit is lying or not. The method is not always consistent, but in various ways, they can see, hear, or feel lies. Some minds analyze tone, some assess body language and impulses or brain waves, and some see effects of truth or fabrication.”
See the effects of truth? Like the colors of emotions?
Chase’s hand shot into the air. “Is it documented?”
“The findings? Always.”
“Publicly?”
“Yes.”
He fidgeted in his seat.
Madison flipped over what had to be her ninth page of notes. “Is that how they evaluated the Eskers kids?”
“Way to be tactful, Madi,” Linton said, but he grinned to show that he wasn’t trying to offend her.
Dr. Massin stopped in front of Joey
Rellingsworth’s desk. “If those newburies would like to share, they are more than welcome. What you need to understand is that your peers faced the same judicial system as the seasoned spirits around the world, and every one of them was found to be innocent. You can’t continue to disgrace them. They were under an influence greater than them. Our minds are vulnerable out here in the open without bodies to protect us.”
The ink! Alex wanted to object. The ink was in all of our books, but only the greedy or the bitter could read it. This proved something about the differences in the minds of the Eskers kids. Massin was wrong.
“I read something about spirits who are arrested by the Patrol,” said Madison. “The news usually says that they’re under some influence. Couldn’t anyone use that as an excuse?”
“That’s where the Revealers come into play because even the most persuasive of personalities can’t fool a panel of Revealers.”
“Persuasive of personalities?” Madison repeated. “I don’t understand.”
“The most infamously persuasive spirit was Syrus Raive.”
Alex felt a lump in her throat.
“Persuasive doesn’t seem like the right description.” Linton scoffed.
“Yeah,” Tess added. “Serial killer is more appropriate.”
Murderer. Alex was related to a murderer.
Dr. Massin tightened her mouth and regarded them momentarily before shuffling across the room to stick her head out into the hallway. She returned to her podium and placed her hands on her hips. “I know we aren’t supposed to discuss it, but Syrus Raive was a respected Broderick advisor before the Restructuring. He was voted into that position. He was a great man.”
Alex felt guilty for being glad of this. The boy in the letters hadn’t sounded like a monster.
Linton’s voice came out even sharper than usual. “Now I understand why historical figures aren’t discussed. Because of bias like yours.”
“Watch your tone, Darwin,” she sniped. “Even rumors of horrific happenings didn’t kill his support. A mind believes what it wants. How does any politician create a following? His words. His ideals. His persuasion.” She cupped her cheek and swayed. “I heard Raive speak once. He had a way about him; his words lifted you off your feet and carried you along next to him. It only felt natural to follow the course he proposed.”
“And what about when he started killing people?” Linton asked.
“No one believed it.” Massin glared. “I didn’t even believe it. It seemed like a gimmick created to discourage Raive’s following. Finally, he was indicted, and when he faced the Revealers, his actions were exposed.”
“What happened then?”
“Detainment. There are detention facilities stationed around the world. Buried alive, spirits cannot move through several feet of earth, and they can’t project without seeing where they are going.”
Alex’s question crawled up her throat. Before she could silence herself, she called out, “And what about the gifted? Is the evaluation process the same with them?”
Every face in the classroom turned to look at her. Pax stretched as high in her seat as she could without standing up.
“Good question. Reuben?” Linton asked. “Do hunters kill the gifted?”
Reuben’s eyes bugged at Dr. Massin. He puffed out his fat cheeks, trying to hold in his secrets.
“I’m only trying to speak to Reuben about something I don’t understand,” Linton said, tilting his head. “Isn’t that the whole idea of getting along?”
When Dr. Massin nodded at Reuben, he used both hands to scratch at his head. “Hunters don’t kill the gifted. Not anymore.”
“Why hunt, then?”
“To herd ’em.”
Sparks erupted around Little.
“They don’t want the gifted to become spirits.”
Chase directed his pencil at Reuben. “They?”
Oh, God. Alex covered her mouth with her hands. It was them. It was spirits. “Do we hire the hunters?”
Massin yelped and cut off Reuben’s response. “No! There are two laws we share. We aren’t to enter each other’s territories. And we aren’t to harm one another. If laws are broken, it’s like finding a criminal in the living world.”
Reuben’s tuft of blond hair stuck straight up. Jack teetered at the very edge of his seat as though he might jump up, but neither of them said a word.
Chase’s jaw shifted side to side. Massin’s color is usually turquoise, but now it’s getting a little dark. I don’t think she’s being honest.
Of course she isn’t being honest, Alex thought back to him. We never hear much about spirits from the past. I’m surprised she’s told us this much.
Alex considered what Linton said about believing a bias. She felt willing to take Massin’s word that Raive was a good guy, only because she wanted him to be good.
Something Ellington told her churned in her thoughts. Those in power hire others to do their dirty work. The Havilahs did the commanding. The Bonds did the law making, and the Seyferrs did the hunting. Her family would be responsible for hiring the hunters. The Bonds were cursed. The Seyferrs were cursed. What about the Havilahs? What was their punishment?
Was Alex cursed, too?
***
Alex had so much on her mind and found it difficult to concentrate during her monthly brain scan at the medical center. The doctors claimed the visits were for their benefit, but Chase thought they were being used for research. Chase and she always planned ahead and focused on separate things during the hour exam, that way they wouldn’t accidentally enter each other’s thoughts. Her mind couldn’t sit still though. What if the doctors discovered their secret?
“You need a break,” Chase said after they returned home.
“Technically, I had one while you and everyone else slaved away at the mansion.”
“We were playing a game. Pulling mindless stunts and playing pretend. You were forced to go to workshops and go to the health center.” He pulled her off the bed, and a spark shocked them both. “Come on. You too, Rae.”
In the hallway, he attempted to position Alex back on her feet, but she imagined herself as boneless and slumped in his arms.
“Cut it out,” he scolded as her arms drooped and her head bounced off his chest.
She put her feet down. “You said I needed a break, but you take me away from my comfortable bed.”
“Your mind needs a break. When you sit and do nothing, you exhaust yourself with all that … ” He drew invisible circles around her head. “That curiosity.”
Rae perked up and nodded in agreement.
They left Brigitta and crossed the courtyard with Chase leading the way. He said their destination was a surprise, but Alex saw the playing fields flash in his mind. She didn’t tell him. In life, she was too frail to play sports, so she hid among the crowd as an outsider looking in. The nostalgia of watching the boys made her happy. Like a Friday-night-high-school-football-game-with-a-thick-blanket-and-hot-chocolate kind of happy. Some of her favorite moments in life involved being an outsider, watching the Lasalles be the stars, while she observed in the dark.
She hadn’t thought about that in a long time.
Her shoes made no marks on the grass, a sign that she didn’t belong down here. “What am I going to be watching?”
“You’re not watching.”
“You said I was going to relax.”
Rae barreled ahead of them, sprinting across the empty fields.
“You need to have some fun.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Alex spun in a circle, making sure the stadium was empty.
“Today you get to play.”
Chase took off his hat and smoothed back his honey-brown bangs. He turned the hat backward and placed it back on his head. “Catch!”
He tossed her the ball, but it slid through her hands and flipped away from her. She scowled and went to pick it up. “I expected it to be heavier.”
“Wouldn’t that be harder?”
“Not for the Movers. They could manipulate something made of minerals. If it was a rock, you’d be better at these games than anyone.”
But it wasn’t. All the more reason for her to go find her seat in the stands. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d thrown a ball, and she didn’t want to look like an idiot. “I don’t know how to play anything.”
“You’ll learn. Your first day as a spirit you crushed a bench the size of your bed. I don’t think kicking a ball around will be much of a challenge.”
“I’ve seen the way you play. I won’t be able to keep up.”
“Stop thinking about it so much. You’re overanalyzing.” He trotted toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders, jostling her lightly. “No one is judging you, and we’ll just mess around.”
A soccer ball came rolling in her direction, bumping against her shins, and stopping at her feet. Rae stood across the field with another ball in her arms, her brows raised.
Chase nodded at her as if to say, Good idea. “Looks like a challenge to me. You want to play, Rae?”
Smiling, Rae set the ball on the ground and stood poised. She took her small hands and smoothed her white hair from her face.
“Hold on!” Chase shouted, racing to the sidelines to grab another ball. His enthusiasm made him seem as young as Rae, who rubbed her hands together before placing them on her thighs.
“Why do I have the feeling she’s going to smoke us?”
“Because she’s had a century of practice. We should get a head start.” A ball flew from Rae’s direction and smacked Chase in the side of his head.
“I don’t think she agrees.”
The three of them lined up as Chase counted down. “Three … two … one … ”
It was harder than it looked. Alex moved objects with her mind; she withstood a banshee attack, but trying to run down a field while kicking a ball was difficult. She had a clear view of Rae, dribbling the ball with grace that no toddler should ever display. Alex was left in the dust, but even from the losing end of the race, the breeze that tickled her face and whipped through her hair felt incredible. She understood the appeal of the nightly games.
Of Delicate Pieces Page 18
