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A Matter of Fate

Page 18

by Heather Lyons


  “The site chosen,” Kopano is saying, “is a high-school gymnasium. There are five entrances that will need to monitored.” He looks at me. “Are you able to take care of the doors?”

  Somebody finally asks for my help, and what do I do? I manage only a quick squeak of a confirmation.

  “There is a field to the west,” Kopano continues, “which has lighting. To the south is a parking lot, the east a courtyard, and to the north another school building. It is not the ideal location to defend, but it should not pose too big of a problem.”

  “Recent sightings?” Kellan asks over the phone.

  Iolani answers him. “Two over the last week. One in Europe five days ago, and one here in the States two days ago.”

  “Location?” Jonah prompts. I feel a burst of pleasure at the sound of his voice, as it’s been too long since he’d put himself into self-imposed exile.

  Iolani flips through her notes again. “Colorado.”

  “The meeting should be in Annar,” Giuliana says. “I do not like these odds.”

  “Agreed,” Kiah says. “But as it’s already decided, we’ll make do with what we have here. Now, we also have to take into consideration that two additional Council members will be here—”

  “Oh, shit,” Kellan says suddenly.

  “Are you talking about the Old Man?” Jonah asks.

  All of the Guard laugh, save me.

  “Of course,” Karl says. “Jens went and snitched like a good kiss-ass.”

  “Jens?” I whisper to Kiah.

  “Jens Belladonna is the head of Guard,” she whispers back.

  “Noel Lilywhite will be coming, too. He’s . . . uh . . . perturbed that Himura has been using his office,” Karl adds, giving me a sympathetic smile.

  “No offense, Chloe,” Raul says, “but sometimes your dad has a giant stick in his ass.”

  “None taken,” I say cheerfully.

  Karl shoots Raul a warning to shut up. “And, a Storyteller has been requested.”

  The entire group, on both sides of the phone, goes silent for a good five seconds. Kopano speaks first. “Storytellers never leave Annar once Ascended.”

  Karl scratches his jaw. “This is true.”

  I can’t help but ask why.

  Kopano tells me, “Well, if a Storyteller was to be captured by a non and interrogated under torture, just imagine the damage that could happen to our kind. Storytellers hold our histories.” He pauses. “All of our histories—from every single species. It’s just safer they never leave Annar. That way, they’re never a risk.”

  Iolani looks to her notes and then back at Karl. “Uh . . . which one is coming?”

  “Oliver Crocus,” Karl says, and the silence returns for another five seconds.

  “Fuori di testa!” Giules exclaims. “This cannot be.”

  Crocus . . . Crocus . . . that’s a plant name. So, the Storyteller is an Elf?

  “The Council is desperate,” Karl offers. “And since Lilywhite’s—er, not you, Chloe—your dad’s team can’t seem to figure this out, they’re willing right now to do what it takes to find an answer, including sending Crocus out.”

  “Obviously he’ll be guarded,” Kiah muses.

  Karl nods. “Zthane will be accompanying him.”

  “I thought the team was supposed to be entirely Human, considering the terrain,” Kopano says, surprised.

  This pricks my interest. So far, all I know about this Zthane is that he is pretty high ranking in the Guard and one of Karl’s best friends. So, this means he’s a different species? But which one?

  “Yes, well, things changed once Crocus agreed to come,” Karl says.

  “ETA?” Iolani inquires.

  Karl looks at his watch. “The meeting is scheduled for seven tonight, meaning Zthane will be at the site with Crocus five minutes prior. The Storyteller will be present only long enough to hear what’s necessary and answer any questions Himura may have for him.” He rubs at his hair. “Please, gods, let this go smoothly.”

  Chapter 23

  Kopano is already on the gym’s roof when we arrive. Kiah is nice enough to explain to me how a Hider’s shield works. “He’s built an illusion around the gymnasium, something like a replica. He takes a period of time into his memory, so when he projects the shield, it’ll look like it did before. It’s sort of like a movie, playing scenes from the past. He’ll be replaying them in his head, projecting them outwards.”

  It’s cool outside already, so I wrap my arms around myself. “Are these the only kinds of shields he can build?”

  She laughs. “Not even close. Kopano can manipulate just about anything. Quite handy on missions when people, objects, and places need to be hidden or distorted.” She steers me off to the side of the building. “You should know I asked Giules about Jonah recently, after you and I had our talk. She says you two don’t hang out at all, or—as far as she knows— interact. Am I missing something?”

  I sag against the bricks. “So you know Jonah’s my Connection?”

  She fingers her multiple earrings. “I’m aware of who has doorways and who doesn’t. And as Connections are always built between people of the same age, and you two are the only ones currently seventeen who had doorways on the Human plane, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.” She pauses. “Do you love him? Do you feel the Connection?”

  I turn and look into the parking lot, where Jonah and Kellan are talking to Raul and Karl. “You said people with Connections can’t fall in love with other people, right?”

  She nods.

  “Then why am I in love with his brother? How can I be in love with two people at the same time?”

  This takes her by surprise. “Are you sure? Because sometimes, people can confuse—”

  “I’m not confusing anything.”

  She turns to look at the twins as well. “I don’t know, Chloe. I’ve never heard about anything like this before. I don’t think it’s possible. It’s just not how these things work.”

  Both the physical and emotional distance between the brothers is starkly apparent, even from a distance. And once again, I am at a loss over what to do. One thing is becoming apparent, though: I need to talk to Jonah, as soon as possible. Not just to attempt to straighten out this mess I’ve managed to get myself in, but because I miss him and want him so much that I can barely think straight anymore.

  And . . . I need to talk to Kellan, too. Tell him the truth, because it no longer seems fair to keep such a huge thing from someone I love. I am terrified over hurting him like I’m hurting his brother, but I know sooner or later, the situation is going to explode unless I get a grip on matters.

  Alex had me create a special machine for him earlier in the week. He requested something that would be multifunctional, projecting not only books and maps he can put up without transparencies, but also memories. It’d been tricky to do, but after three tries, I managed to give him exactly what he wanted.

  He’s fiddling with the device when Kiah and I finally come into the building, fresh from me sealing shut all the doorways save one. All of the Cousins’ families are present, including my own. My parents are talking to Ewan Whitecomb—my mother gives me a tight smile and a small wave when she notices me.

  In addition to all of the families, there are easily thirty Faeries and Gnomes present, including Caleb.

  Karl makes his way over to me and Kiah. He rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “There’s been a black shape shifter sighting roughly a hundred miles north of here.”

  Kiah’s body tenses. “When?”

  “Three hours ago.”

  “Son of a bitch,” she swears under her breath. “We should cancel this, now.”

  “I agree,” he murmurs. “But the brass says no. They think we have enough Guard here to outweigh the risk.”

  Her eyes rove around the gym. “Your opinion?”

  “I don’t like it. But Zthane and Crocus are three minutes out. Getting another meeting time is impossible.”

&nbs
p; She grimaces. “Do the others know?”

  He crosses his arms and nods. “Zthane, Raul, Kopano, and Kellan will stay outside. You, me, Giules, Iolani, and Jonah will stay inside. The directives are clear. Chloe is still our number-one priority; Oliver Crocus is next. Then Ewan Whitecomb and Noel Lilywhite.”

  “What about everyone else?” I ask, looking around the room.

  A guilty flush steals up his neck. “Those are the only orders, Chloe.”

  “What about Jonah?” I ask hotly. “And Kellan? I thought they were also under orders of protection. Jonah’s going to be on the Council, too—”

  “Of course Karl meant to say their names,” Kiah says, giving Karl a pointed look. “He forgot because they work with us so often, it’s naturally assumed.”

  As if on cue, Jonah enters the gym with Iolani. They’re talking quietly to each other, heads far too close together for my comfort. My eyes must bug out or something, because Kiah says soothingly, while rubbing a hand up and down my arm, “She’s just a flirt, and an old friend. You have nothing to worry about there.”

  Karl looks over at Jonah and Iolani and then back at me and Kiah. With all of the chaotic plans going on lately, he and I haven’t gotten to finish our talk. I can tell he wants to say something, but at this moment, Giuliana comes in with a very old, distinguished Elf.

  “Ah,” Kiah says. “Crocus has arrived.”

  Oliver Crocus is wearing a dark suit, a long black trench coat, a wide-brimmed hat, and uses a walking cane. His hair is nearly black and long to his shoulders, but his goatee is pewter gray. He is regal and elegant, and obviously, from the murmur going throughout the room, very well respected.

  “Well, well,” he says to Karl when he makes his way over to where we’re standing. “This must be the Creator I’ve been hearing so much about.” He turns to me and holds out a smooth, alabaster hand; when I place mine in his, he lifts it up and kisses it lightly. “You are just as charming as I imagined, Chloe Lilywhite.” He’s got serious charisma leaking from every pore. I find myself blushing furiously. “How delightful,” he says, reaching out to pat my cheek. Then to Karl, “I’m afraid we must begin straight away. Nightstorm is not allowing me more than an hour.” Then he extends his arm to Kiah, and she leads him over to Alex, leaving me alone with Karl.

  He’s not smiling. “You and me, we’re like glue tonight. Understand?”

  I try not to roll my eyes.

  Cora claps her hands, attempting to get everyone’s attention. She’s emceeing for Alex, which makes sense considering she’s got the loudest voice of anyone present.

  While everyone is quieting down, I sneak a look over at Jonah, who’s still standing with Iolani. As always, he senses me right away, shifting his eyes over reluctantly to meet mine.

  In all the times we’ve ever connected this way, I always remain so stunned that I either keep a straight face or one of astonishment. But here’s my chance, small as it is—how many more will I get before he completely washes his hands of me? So this time, I purposely, suggestively smile. He’s confused, cautious, before the corners of his mouth tug upwards.

  When his dimple appears, my heart soars. And then Iolani leans over and says something to him, forcing his attention back toward her.

  It’s something, though. Small as it was, it’s a victory.

  “I know this is somewhat unorthodox,” Cora is saying, hands on her hips, “having you all come here like this. But Alex has some important things to share, making all of this worth your time. First though, Meg will share with you some background info.”

  Meg pulls out a sheet of paper and lays it down on the projector. “I’ve divided the chart into the six planes, here,” she says, pointing to the different headings. “I’ll start with the Human plane. Over the last ten years, there have been eleven murders and forty attacks, including the most recent.” The room is eerily quiet. She points to the next column. “On the Faerie plane, there’ve been twenty-one murders and sixty-five attacks.”

  The Faeries all murmur their outrage.

  Meg clears her throat. She’s so atypically serious it’s like she’s been muted. “The Gnome plane has seen eighteen murders and fifty-seven attacks.”

  The Gnomes at the top of the bleachers bellow in anger, forcing Cora to yell at them to quiet down.

  Meg continues, “On the Elvin plane, there have been sixteen murders, eighty-one attacks.”

  I look over at Oliver; he’s merely nodding, stone-faced.

  Meg points to the last column. “And finally, the Goblin plane has seen a total of nine murders, with nineteen attacks.”

  “Why so few?” Alex’s mother wonders loudly.

  One of the Gnomes snorts. “Don’t you know any Goblins? They wouldn’t stand for such nonsense! None of us should!” He pumps a tiny fist in the air, riling the rest of the Gnomes up again.

  Cora grabs a nearby bullhorn. “Calm down and listen.” The Gnomes mostly do so, allowing her to talk. “Clearly, based on these statistics, something major is going on. What you don’t see is that the majority of the deaths have been of Council members, or future Council members. Of course, we didn’t know any of this until Chloe was attacked.” She pointedly glares at our parents. “Since this was unacceptable, we decided to do something about it. And Alex has, unlike the so-called ‘experts’ in Annar.”

  My dad doesn’t even blink.

  Alex is up next. When he thanks everyone for coming, the room once more falls silent. “Searching for these things was like searching for a needle in a haystack at first,” he says, shifting nervously next to the projector. “But I had a few things going for me. For starters, I knew they were Magicals. Or, at the very least, were similar to our kind. This was due to their speed, ability to move between the planes, and tendency to act in corporeal ways even though they appear non-corporeal.

  “I asked myself several questions: Why are these things targeting Magicals? What is their goal? Do they gain something from our deaths? Occam’s Razor tells us that the simplest answer is usually the correct one. Why do most murders occur? Revenge, of course. Think about it—revenge for being abused, revenge for drug deals gone wrong, revenge for being the wrong sort of person. The hate and heat associated with murder usually can be tied somehow back to revenge. So I began looking for those who might want revenge against our kind.

  “I’m sure everybody in this room—from the Human plane, at least—is quite familiar with Greek legends: stories of our ancestors, who, because they were different, were worshipped as gods.

  “I spent a lot of time rereading these stories. And then I came across one that fits in every single way.” He picks up a book and places it on the projector. An image appears on a screen behind him, much to my pleasure: a perfect replica of the book he’s looking at. He taps the picture below, of Zeus standing over a hole, lightning bolt in hand. “This is the chapter I found most interesting. It tells of how Zeus, being leader of a new pantheon of gods, decided to overthrow the Titans, the elder gods of Greece.”

  A Faerie whose name I don’t know calls out, “In our stories, he is not called Zeus. His name was Thaniel, but the story is pretty much the same.”

  “The same for the Gnomes,” someone else adds. “Ours was named Jurgen.”

  Alex nods. “Yes, there are versions of this story on every plane, I imagine. Since we know that most of these stories are based on facts—as distorted as they’ve become over the millennia—I couldn’t help but wonder, exactly who or what had the Titans been?” He flips a few pages and points to another picture. “According to Human texts, the Titans were the first group of rulers. They were a small group—powerful, and less nuanced than the later gods and goddesses. Zeus was, in fact, the son of one of the Titans—Cronus—who was the son of the first god, Uranus. It was a familial battle that pitted Zeus and his brothers against his father, grandfather, and elder relatives. In the end, the younger gods and goddesses won, banishing the ancients. And if Zeus—or Thaniel, or Jurgen—was an early Magi
cal, who were Cronus and Uranus? Who were the rest of the Titans? It’s my belief they were Magicals, too.” He stops to clear his throat. “My theory is that Zeus, or whoever he was, felt threatened by the early Magicals and had a Creator strip them of power and/or their corporal existences. Oliver, this is where I need you to come in. Will you share with us the story of the Titans?”

  Oliver stands up and makes his way over to Alex. Once in front of the audience, he takes a deep breath before raising his hands. A ball of light grows, shimmering between his fingers. Then he turns and throws it at the projection screen. The ball splatters in a burst of rainbow-hued light, flickering before settling into a moving picture of the Titans.

  “Alexander has given you a good start to the story of the so-called Titans,” Oliver says. “And I applaud his ingenuity. He in on the road to becoming a very fine Intellectual. But, of course, he has only read the legends left behind by the ancients and does not have the complete story. Only the Storytellers have the true tale.”

  Chapter 24

  In the beginning, there was an early group of Magicals. They called themselves the Elders, for they were the alphas. The first of the Elders was a Creator, Enlilkian, and he conjured a mate out of the four elements: equal parts of fire, earth, wind, and water. She was an Elemental in the strongest form, for there were no divisions within a craft as there are today. This Elder, Cailleache, became disillusioned with having only two Magicals to do all the work. She insisted on children, and then grandchildren, until there were a total of forty-three Elders.

  Together, they controlled the only plane of existence. All non-Magicals looked to the Elders for everything—for the sun shining over their heads to the food grown in their fields. Nothing was left to chance. Everything was dictated by the Elders.

  And then one of Enlilkian’s sons, Rudshivar, tired of sharing a singular plane with the rest of the family. He was a Creator, too, and one night while the rest slept, he broke the plane into six pieces. When Enlilkian awoke, he was outraged by the audacity of his protégé.

 

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