A Matter of Fate

by Heather Lyons

  “Chloe,” Jonah says, “it’s important you stay safe this time.”

  I try to argue, but Kellan cuts me off. “Don’t think we don’t remember what happened last time you tried to help.”

  “I did help,” I snap. “I saved all of your asses and you know it!”

  This doesn’t sway Kellan or Jonah, who both argue how ridiculous it is for me to risk myself needlessly. Karl arrives during this verbal beatdown, thankfully saving me from the Cousins joining in the fray.

  “We’re leaving now.” Karl waves two pieces of paper. “I’ve already signed you two out, thanks to your parents calling in before I arrived.” Then, to Kellan, “I want the population locked down.”

  “Fine,” Kellan tells Karl, but his eyes are on me.

  “Maybe the rest of us ought to be looking, too,” Lizzie says hesitantly. “School seems irrelevant if Cora’s missing . . . .”

  “School,” Karl says firmly, “is the safest place for you to be.” He looks at me and Jonah. “Let’s go.”

  Kellan reaches out and grabs Jonah’s arm. They stand there silently for a moment before Jonah says quietly, “I will.”

  And then, before I can ask what that meant, Jonah puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the cafeteria.

  Chapter 37

  The Guard have a number of safe houses all throughout Annar for a variety of reasons, including, I suppose, hiding a Creator in a plane that has never been breached by Elders. The one we’re taken to by Iolani, who took over for Karl when we reached the Transit Station, is in an ornate building which houses the main branch of Annar’s bank. Which, to me, is pretty conspicuous, but Iolani insists it’s one of the safest buildings in the city-state.

  Outside the apartment, on the third floor, is a Goblin dressed entirely in black talking on his cell phone. He’s quite tall and well built, with pale, matte pea-green skin; salt-and-peppered, closely cropped hair; a Romanesque nose; and piercing black eyes. The moment he sees us, he barks out an order on his phone and then hangs up. Just when I’m afraid he’s going to start yelling at someone, his eyes crinkle at the corners and he smiles. “Jonah,” he says in a low, gravelly voice with just the hint of an exotic accent. “It’s good to see you, despite the circumstances.”

  Am I the only person who doesn’t know anyone in this town?

  “Zthane,” Jonah says, “I don’t think you’ve met Chloe in person yet. Chloe, this is Zthane Nightstorm—he’s one of the best Guards we have.”

  “Please,” Zthane grins. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” To me, he extends a hand. His grip is strong and brief. “It’s good to finally meet you, Chloe.”

  I find myself instinctively liking this guy. “You, too. Karl’s said a lot of good things about you.”

  Zthane bursts out laughing. “I find that hard to believe.” To Jonah, he says, “Once you get settled, call me, because we need to talk.”

  Jonah agrees, as if this is expected.

  “I’ve decided to have your brother bring the . . . .”—he looks down at his cell phone, scrolling through some notes he’s made—”three additional teenage Magicals here to Annar for the night. Just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?” I ask.

  “He’s got the school done,” Jonah says, ignoring my question. “He figures he’ll have the rest of the city done in the next half-hour. He’s been a bit distracted, as Megan Blueton has been . . . .”—Jonah looks at me sympathetically—”somewhat hysterical and a bit difficult to deal with. She literally wasn’t willing to let go of him.”

  Zthane nods, perusing his notes some more. “Joy, correct?”

  “Yes,” I answer for Jonah. “What does that mean? Is she freaking out?”

  “Not anymore,” Jonah assures me. “Kellan has her sedated with Alex back in the library.”

  Okay, wait a minute. “How do you know this?”

  “All the more reason to bring them here,” Zthane says, both of them ignoring another of my questions. “A panicky Joy does no one any good. You boys would have your work cut out for you if she began wreaking havoc on that school. What about the others? How are they dealing with the possibility of being targets?”

  My stomach hits the floor as it sinks in that Cora is missing . . . because of me. My other Cousins are targets . . . because of me.

  “Elizabeth Pinkston also had to be sedated,” Jonah continues, “yet Alexander Himura is fine. But then, he’s an Intellectual, so that’s no shock.”

  “Lizzie panicked?” I whisper, horrified at the thought of my normally stalwart friend flying off the handle.

  “Nothing like Meg,” Jonah assures me.

  “Good, good.” Zthane’s fingers are flying over the phone’s keyboard. “Glad to hear it.” He pauses, then says, “You clear on everything, Jonah?”

  Jonah simply sighs, exasperated.

  The Goblin lays a hand on his shoulder. “You boys should stop expecting me to change.”

  “You’re an ancient rock,” Iolani grins. “Who never changes despite the weathering of storms.”

  “If thirty is ancient,” Jonah says, “I’d hate to think what he’ll be like at forty.”

  “Decrepit,” Zthane says with a straight face. “Anyway, once Kellan rolls in, expect a meeting to go over some new intel we’ve acquired.”

  “I won’t be leaving the apartment,” Jonah tells him.

  “This is fine,” Zthane says, unbothered. He pats Jonah’s shoulder a couple times before telling Iolani the apartment has already been checked. “No one except the list I’ve sent is allowed in or out,” he adds. And then he walks away, phone back at his ear.

  Iolani opens the door. “You heard the boss. Inside you go.”

  “Why such scrutiny?” I ask once we’re inside and the door is locked. “I thought Annar is safe. Everyone’s acting like there are assassins outside the building with sniper guns trained on me.”

  “It’s not too far from the truth,” she says before Jonah gives what appears to be a warning, to stop talking.

  Asking them for clarification does no good. So I ask Jonah instead how well he knows Zthane. Iolani is surprised at the question, which irks me. Clearly she has no idea how much I don’t actually know.

  “We’ve known him most of our lives,” Jonah tells me.

  “I swear,” Iolani laughs, “he thinks the sun rises and sets on your brother.”

  Jonah laughs, too. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all of the Guard expectations Kel is under.”

  “C’mon,” she wheedles, “you must admit that the Council ones are just as bad.”

  “Maybe I’ve just learned to tune them out.”

  “Maybe,” Iolani grins, “it’s because Council members tend to have sticks up their asses and don’t know how to have fun. They’re easy to tune out with all their moaning and droning. The Guard, though . . . .”

  “Yeah,” Jonah concedes, smiling, “you guys are awful. Like a pack of sixth graders.” He sits on the couch and stretches his legs out.

  Iolani appears to view this as a compliment. She bows to us with a grand flourish, grins, and then excuses herself to go make some phone calls.

  I spend the next hour vacillating between specific panic over Cora and general panic over the rest of my friends. I’m also acutely uncomfortable knowing Kellan is out there, risking himself along with the rest of the Guard, while I’m stuck in some cushy, safe apartment on a completely different plane.

  These feelings are only exacerbated when I learn about a rash of attacks on the other planes over the last month. There have been three deaths, all powerful Magicals, and five injuries. Talking about it only makes me more anxious, so Jonah suggests we table the subject until we have more concrete information to go on. “Good idea,” I say, pacing restlessly through the living room as he flips through a newspaper. And then, I remember to ask, “Who called you earlier today while we were at lunch?”

  The paper in his hand stills.

  “Today at lunch. Befo
re Giules called with the news about Cora. Who were you talking to on the phone? I mean, you got into a fight with Kellan over it.”

  The guarded look on his face melts into his typically even one. “It was nothing.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

  He sighs and sets the paper down. “It was Callie.”

  I stop pacing. “Ex-girlfriend Callie?”

  A nod proceeds, “It’s really nothing for you to worry about.”

  Oh, hell no. He is not going to get away with these sorts of answers. I mean, my boyfriend, no, my Connection’s ex-girlfriend of three stinking years called him and got him upset enough to argue with his brother? Which, pardon me, doesn’t make sense? Yeah, he’s going to tell me about it starting right now. “Why was she calling, Jonah?”

  “Chloe—”

  “Look, I was honest with you about what happened between me and Kellan at the airport. I told you even though I knew it’d upset you, because I figured you have a right to know. So are you telling me I don’t have a right to know why your ex-girlfriend is calling and upsetting you?”

  He captures my waving arms and pulls me closer. “Of course you do. I just didn’t want to upset you over a petty play at revenge my brother is enacting.”

  Again, this doesn’t make sense. “Why’d she call?”

  “Apparently she and Kellan had a long talk last night after he left you at the airport.”

  Wait a minute here. “Why would your brother and ex-girlfriend be talking?”

  He sighs. “They’re still really close.”

  “That’s funny, because in the two months I dated him, he never mentioned her name once,” I say flatly.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Jonah says, “other than I happen to know they’re still close.”

  This irrationally pisses me off. “Really.”

  “Well, yeah. The three of us did a lot together, considering we’ve known Callie most of our lives, so—”

  “Most of your lives?”

  Now he looks irritated, too. “Yes.”

  “How long?”

  “Since second grade,” he says.

  The jealousy I’d felt the night before is nothing compared to the wicked flashes streaking through me now. Not only did Jonah date this chick for three years, but he’s known her most of his life. Not quite as long as I’ve known him, but long enough to give her a genuine place to stake a claim in his life.

  I’ve never met her, but I really think I hate her.

  “Whoa,” Jonah says, startled. “I don’t know what you’re thinking here, but . . . I thought we covered this last night. Things with Callie are over, Chloe.”

  “She’s aware of this?”

  “Yes.” He looks oddly tired.

  “So why’d she call?”

  He meets my eyes right on. “Kellan told her the truth—that you were his girlfriend and while he was back East, I stole you away. How you and I have known each other our whole lives, and that I’d, for all intents and purposes,” and here he sighs deeply, “used her during the time we were together as a replacement or holding place for you. Something along those lines. She was upset after hearing this. I don’t like hurting her more than I already have, Chloe. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  Rationally, I can understand why he doesn’t want to hurt this girl. He’s a good person, and at the time they’d dated, he hadn’t known I really existed. But jealousy is an irrational, cruel creature who doesn’t like to be reasoned with. And I really don’t care if this Callie’s feeling hurt or not. “You didn’t steal me away.”

  “But that’s how he sees it, and, you know what? I totally get that, because I felt the exact same thing during those months you two were dating. I was eaten alive with jealousy and anger every day. It was pretty hard to control myself at times.”

  Goodbye, jealousy. Hello, guilt! It’s been a whopping two hours without you, and I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten me. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t want us to have to keep going over and over this, feeling like we have to apologize for all the mistakes we’ve made. It serves no purpose. What’s done is done. We can only move forward, and that’s what I want to do. But at the same time, I can’t let Kellan drag Callie into this. He can be as pissed off at me as he wants and I know I’ve just got to take it, but she has nothing to do with what’s going on between the three of us.”

  A horrible idea rears its head. “Is that what he’s doing? Trying to bring her back around to . . . I don’t know . . . tempt you away?”

  “No. Kellan knows better than that, after I explained how you’re my Connection. He knows there’s nothing, and no one, who will ever be able to tempt me away from you again. I think, though, he sees it like stabbing me in a place that isn’t fatal, just one that’ll hurt like hell.” Jonah’s quiet for a long moment. “He’s right, you know. I dated Callie, knowing I didn’t love her the way she loved me. It wasn’t fair to her, and I felt like a jerk for a long time for never being what she deserved. I think part of me used to hope I’d learn to love her, but the harder I tried, the harder I failed. So when Callie called, crying and accusing me of using her for years . . . I think it hit home a little too hard.” He rubs at his forehead. “You’re not the only one who’s hurt somebody, Chloe.”

  I’m instantly contrite, babbling yet another round of apologies.

  But he cuts me off. “I’m going to be honest here—I do love Callie; she’s been a part of my life and a good friend for a very long time. I do miss her, but Chloe, I’m not in love with her. I’ve only ever been, only ever will be, in love with you.”

  Admitting you love someone else is not the best way to reassure a jealous girlfriend. So I snap, “Nice, Jonah. Any other girls you loved you want to tell me about?”

  He lets me go and takes a step back. “Don’t you think I felt—feel—that way about you and Kellan?”

  What did you expect him to do, just roll over and let you throw your hypocrisy around with no ramifications? the little voice offers in regards to my inner outrage.

  “The difference is,” he says in a low voice bordering on anger, “that I actually had to watch it happen, not just hear about it. It was excruciating, Chloe. Every time he kissed you, I thought I was going to throw up. Every time he held you, it took every ounce of control I had—and by the end, there was very little left—to not beat the crap out of my own twin brother. So yeah, I understand jealousy, too.”

  The little voice murmurs, Don’t even bother trying to argue against this one. And it’s right. There’s nothing I can say to excuse what I’ve done.

  Zthane comes by later that evening, bringing with him bittersweet news. Cora’s been found, but our worst fears are realized: she’d been attacked by the Elders.

  “She’s alive,” Zthane is telling us, but I’m only catching some of his words. Is Cora in pain? Is she awake? “Karl and Kellan found her blahblah, roughly a mile blahblahblah. Blahblah way to school.”

  I let Jonah ask the questions as I stare down at my hands—they’re shaking, and all I can do is wonder if her hands are okay. I can’t focus. Why can’t I focus? Oh, gods, is she all right?

  “The car blahblahblah,” Zthane is murmuring. “She tried escaping, but they blahblahblah . . . .”

  Can a Shaman heal herself?

  “Blabblahblah hospital here in Annar—”

  I jerk my head up. “She’s here?”

  “Yes,” Zthane says gently, as if he isn’t acutely aware I’ve been out of the conversation. “She’s in very good hands, Chloe. The best in all the worlds.”

  “When can I see her?

  “Maybe tomorrow.” His phone is ringing again—but then, in the short time I’ve known him, it seems to ring constantly. “Maybe the day after that. She needs her rest.” And then the conversation between Zthane and Jonah falls back into the familiar buzzing of words that are just out of comprehension’s reach.

  Cora is in a h
ospital, and it’s because of me.

  Karl warned us early on that sometimes people close to powerful Magicals are targeted. Cora and I had laughed this off, saying just because she was my best friend, no one would want to go after her, because she’s not Council bound. We didn’t give his warnings credence, not even after I’d been attacked twice.

  She’d been attacked, all alone. Had she tried to fight back? Defend herself with any of the multitude of diseases in her arsenal? It’s unbearable to imagine my Cousin going through this—Cora, who always tries to be so strong and flippant when it’s really a mask to hide her confused and sensitive soul.

  I want to smash something, destroy it in ugly, permanent ways.

  I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.

  Chapter 38

  Karl and Iolani are sitting at the dining-room table, talking quietly while drinking tea. I join them, asking Karl, “When did you get here?”

  He pours me a cup. “About a half-hour ago.” He looks me up and down. “You’re up early. Jonah still sleeping?”

  I nod, taking the cup from him. “Any word on Cora?”

  “Do you want me to sugarcoat it, or give it to you real?” I roll my eyes despite the seriousness of the situation. He knows better than to ask that. “The Elders took quite a bit of Cora’s life force from her. By the time we found her, she had very little left.”

  I swallow hard. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning it’s a damn good thing we found her when we did. She’s still at the hospital, and they’re still working on her. Truth be told, we don’t find a lot of survivors, especially at this level of . . . .” He struggles to find the correct word. “Depravity, I suppose. Most survivors are usually only superficially hurt, like your father. Things Shamans can fix easily. But even the best don’t have a lot of experience regenerating someone who is barely existing. I’m sorry to have to put it that way, Chloe.”

  She’s strong, and she’s a fighter, the little voice murmurs. She’ll pull through—just you wait and see.

  Tears flood my eyes. “Are they hopeful, though?”

  He reaches out to squeeze my hand. “I think so.”