Cursed Seer

by J. A. Culican

  I wrap my arms around him, unsettled by the fluttering in my stomach at the feel of him in my arms—this isn't the time to deal with that dilemma—and we head off together to go see how Talon is faring after the healing ordeal.

  Chapter 9

  I head down the hallway toward Talon's room, sparing a moment to hiss at the very rude sunlight just starting to peek over the horizon through the small window facing the yard. Clumsy still at this early hour, I bounce off the opposite hallway wall once and curse it, as well.

  As soon as I open the door to Talon's room, however, I instantly forget those minor annoyances. Thin beads of sweat run down Talon’s pale, sunken flesh over his cheeks and neck, making it immediately clear that Something Is Wrong Here—so much so that I completely miss whatever Meredith is saying, or that she’s in the room.

  I shake my head and blink rapidly, shoving away the terrible image for a moment. "What?"

  Meredith purses her lips and shakes her head so slightly that I almost imagine seeing it. "I said, I think it's important right now that we don't get our hopes up. He's..."

  "... Going to be fine once everything is settled in?"

  Dead silence all around as everyone suddenly finds something fascinating about the floor. Meredith literally bites her bottom lip, chewing on it lightly, an expression I've never seen on her before.

  The walls are closing in around me. "He's not..."

  Meredith finally makes eye contact with me, though only for a moment. "No. He isn't gone, not yet. But for whatever reason, nothing we do seems to help. His pulse remains faint, and his blood pressure is low. I can't even detect his energy, his magic. It's like they drained all he had and then drained some more, and his physical body was tapped to make up the difference."

  I stare at her for a moment, digesting this information. "So you're saying his life depends on what, a roll of the dice? That's not good enough. Do something else." I realize my voice is rising and pause to take a deep breath before continuing in a more even tone, "Can we 'donate' our own energy?"

  She shakes her head, breaking eye contact again. "No. If he stabilizes before he dies, he'll make it. Otherwise, it will consume him. I suspect he's strong enough to pull through, but we just don't know with any certainty. This isn't exactly covered in the medical texts, mortal or otherwise."

  My vision grows blurry, and I spin on my heels to leave before I break down. I don't want to lose it in front of them, but I definitely don't want to lose it in front of him. The last thing he needs is to hear me sobbing for him, assuming he can hear us at all. I'm not taking the chance.

  As I reach the stairwell, I hear the faint padding sound of feet following me. I already know who it is, but a quick glance as I head down the stairs confirms it. Luka. I'm uncertain whether I even want to talk to him right now, but I doubt he'll give me the choice.

  He finally speaks up at the bottom of the stairs. "Mirella, we have to talk. I know you won't want to, but it's important. I'm sorry, but I insist."

  I take a deep breath and let it out, accepting the inevitable. "Fine, let's go sit on the couch."

  I don't wait for him to agree, and when I sit at one end, he plops down at the other. He locks eyes with me and I count off seconds in my head. One... Two...

  He breaks the silence sooner than I expected. "We need to talk."

  "Yes, you already said that." I would probably have smirked at his obvious discomfort if I weren't quite so tired and, to be honest, somewhat depressed.

  "I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out and be blunt. I think you and Talon have become entirely too close to one another—"

  "As if that's any of your business. Jealous, much?" I interrupt. Ouch. Inwardly, I cringe at my harsh words. Luka does not deserve that.

  He blinks twice, rapidly. "No, that's not it. Not entirely, at least. What I mean is that there still remain questions about... Look, did you see the DNA test results? Are you absolutely certain about who your father is? We don't know if it's the man you call 'dad' or Kasik, as far as I'm aware."

  My heart skips a beat, feeling like a hammer blow to the chest. This was not at all what I had expected. Images of Talon's and my time in the woods streak through my mind, one after the other, incriminating evidence of my own recklessness. I clamp those thoughts down quickly, though. Luka may not be able to read minds or even surface thoughts, but he's not the only one of our kind in the house.

  My throat is suddenly dry, and I find myself swallowing over and over. It's hard to catch my breath. It dawns on me that I'm freaking out a little bit. I can't afford that, no matter how understandable it might be. Though, to be honest, I doubt anyone but Talon himself would find what happened between us to be 'understandable,' given all the circumstances and questions.

  As I try to regain my composure, Luka sits quietly, watching me intently. I watch his hand as he rests it lightly on my knee. I suppose he's trying to be supportive, though he hasn't exactly been a pillar of empathy lately.

  He nods once, quickly. "Okay. I had to get that out. It just seems to me that maybe you aren't looking at the whole picture. Trust me, I know how much strong emotions can color our perceptions and even limit the questions we ask ourselves."

  The tone in his voice shifted just there, and I almost cocked my head as I consider him. What does he mean by that? Does he regret what happened between us? That kiss, the connection we shared... And in the back of my mind, the nagging thought that I still feel for him as I once did. I have to ask myself whether that went away, or if the sheer volume of Talon's and my connection simply drowned it out without ever truly replacing it.

  Abruptly, I shake my head to clear the thoughts, shedding them like a wet dog does water. "No."

  Luka raises an eyebrow at me. "No, what?"

  "Never mind. Change is inevitable, though. And it isn't always the change we'd like. I'm not sure how I feel about Talon, given that question—the elephant in the room—but I know I want to find out. I wish I were more in tune with my emotions, you know?" I look down into my lap and find my hands are clasped together, wringing.

  Luka barks laughter and I look up, surprised. He says, "Sorry. Actually, I shouldn't laugh. It isn't funny. It's just that what you said really drove home my own issues. And not just about you, or the conflicting feelings I have about you and my best friend."

  I put one hand on his, still resting on my knee. "Conflicting feelings about what, then, if not Talon?"

  His smile vanishes as a shadow passes over his features, revealing dark depths within him for just a moment, before his expression becomes unreadable. Considering how emotional Luka is, whatever he's struggling with has to be deeply significant if it bothers him more than my obvious attraction to Talon.

  He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before answering. "My biggest questions used to revolve around you. It was hard to know how you felt about me, given that I'm not even sure you knew, yourself. Where were we going? What about the obstacles that stood between us?"

  I nod, but I don't interrupt.

  He continues, "But now, while I still have many of those questions, that sense of urgency about them has been covered up by something far more pressing. Ella,"—his gaze locks onto mine—"am I a monster?"

  Though I open my mouth to offer a reflex answer, he holds up his hand, taking it out from underneath mine and cutting me off with it. “No, don't try to comfort me. This is a serious question. Am I a monster, am I evil? I must kill people to survive.

  "Metaphorically, that's true of everyone, whether their own battlefield is a boardroom or a foreign war zone."

  "For me, though, it isn't metaphorical. What on Earth am I supposed to do about that? Do I keep a herd of enemies around just so I can murder them when I feel like my fingers are going to fall off? That's what Birka thinks I should do."

  My jaw drops. I had no idea he was wrestling with this. As I think on it, though, I find I'm not surprised. Luka was—no, he is—a good man. Good people don't embrace the idea of
murder for personal gain.

  I'm also a little ashamed. I always considered myself to be an empathetic person, but I sure don't feel like one right now. "I'm sorry. I hadn't even thought of it... You just smirked about it, and I assumed..."

  He shakes his head, but puts his hand down on mine again. "Don't beat yourself up. I did my best to mask my discomfort. I really don't want the others thinking about it at all, if I'm honest. Not until after I decide how I want to proceed."

  It dawns on me what he's getting at, and a hot ember forms in the pit of my stomach. "You want to live, of course. I want you to live. It's not your fault you're like this, dammit. Don't you dare make me lose you twice."

  I'm pretty sure the reassuring smile he gives me is at least as forced and fake as my own. The echo of his voice as he asks himself and me whether it makes him a monster bounces around inside my head. Part of me believes it just might.

  Chapter 10

  A rustling sound nearby penetrates the sleep fog, and I crack open one eye. At first, the room seems unchanged—I'm sitting in a recliner we've stationed next to Talon's bed, and there's no one else in the room.

  Then, I see his arm move. The rustling sound, his covers moving. I leap from the chair and bolt out to the stairwell, shouting down, "Come quick, Talon is moving." Even I can hear the thrill in my voice.

  I don't wait to see whether the others are coming up or not. I just run back into the room. "Talon, are you awake? Can you hear me?" I lean over the bed, my face a foot from his, and look him all over for any sign of consciousness. Come on, Talon, wake up...

  His eyelids flutter open, and his eyes lock with mine. The faintest smile just touches the corners of his mouth, a smile that is mirrored and amplified on my own face. I can't help it.

  When he tries to lift his head, though, my sloppy grin vanishes. "No! You can't move. Just lay there. The others are coming. Are you okay? How do you feel?" A flurry of other equally silly questions pours out, and I can't stop myself. He's alive!

  The door behind me crashes open and, after a flurry of footsteps, the others approach the bed, too.

  For a few seconds, the room is chaos as everyone asks questions at once, but when Talon closes his eyes tightly, Birka holds up her hands and silences us. "Give him a moment. Don't overwhelm him."

  She moves around the bed to where Talon can see her and takes one of his hands in both of her own, holding it to her chest. "Lord, I can't believe you're awake. You know, there was a very good chance that you never would."

  Talon's voice is faint and rough as he replies, "Yeah. Didn't think... I'd make it."

  Birka scowls and shakes her head. "No, don't talk. Save your strength. We can talk when you get better."

  "No—" Talon's voice cracks and goes silent. A cough wracks his chest before he continues. "Info. I know... Dawson's plan."

  With every word, his voice sounds stronger. I hope I'm not imagining it. Not strong, but stronger—big difference. His haggard, sunken look tells me he's not out of the woods yet. "What plans? We've been wondering at his end-game, but all we have are guesses."

  His eyes still closed, Talon replies, "Dawson doesn't just want Mortal's Landing. Doesn't want Shades... And Wraiths."

  Meredith's voice comes from somewhere behind me, "Do tell. We are all ears."

  As Glenn stepped up beside him and grasps his shoulder, Talon replies, "Shades and Wraiths from around the world. Building... an army. He's planning a coup—"

  "Where?" Birka interrupts.

  Luka grimaces. "Damn, Birka. That's your son. Let him catch his breath before you interrogate him."

  I'm surprised she has seemingly forgotten her son's health and well-being, too, and that thought makes me scowl at her.

  She purses her lips, but shakes her head. "I'm not going to argue. I would give my life to save his. But you all know very well that he and I both would give his life to save the world, if it comes to that." She looks back down on Talon and smiles. "Of course, that's a last resort. I love my son."

  He manages a wan, tired smile in return, but it quickly fades. "He's going to start with the USA. He's planning a coup. From there... the globe entirely."

  "Why?" The question passes my lips as a squeak. This can't be real, can it?

  Birka adds, "And when?"

  Talon's eyes flutter, then his eyelids droop. "He thinks the world needs him. He'll bring peace. Savior Dawson..."

  His voice fades to nothing, quickly replaced by the faintest sounds of snoring. The rest of us are left to look at one another and wonder what the others are thinking.

  "I haven't seen you look this good since we rescued you." Holding Talon's hand in both of mine, I can't help grinning at him. "And don't get started on Dawson."

  Maybe my smile is infectious, because despite his clear weariness, he's smiling back at me. "Okay, I'll drop it for now." He looks around the room, but we’re alone. "Where are the others? Have they forgotten about me already?"

  "Hardly." I squeeze his hand. "They just thought we might like to have a bit of time alone together. Apparently, I'm driving them nuts with all my 'Talon this, Talon that' talk."

  He starts to chuckle but it turns into a wracking cough. When that dies down, he groans under his breath. I can hear the phlegm roiling in his chest. "It's hard to imagine you talking so much that anyone would be irritated."

  "Ha ha, very funny."

  "I thought so." His hand trembles, and I realize he's trying to squeeze mine. As if reading my thoughts, he says, "Pretty pathetic, right? In my head, I'm still strong as an ox. Stupid gravity quickly dispels my illusions, though, every time I try to sit up."

  "You'll get better, I just know it." Actually, I don't. I'm not telling him that, though. "It's been hard, watching you lie there, touch and go. Once, we thought we lost you, but Glenn did chest compressions until we got a glyph up, before the healer came. I'm surprised you don't have broken ribs."

  He purses his lips. "Actually, I remember that. I've been awake and aware for much of this time. I may not have cracked ribs, but I promise you, they're all bruised."

  "Sorry, not sorry. Anything to save you. You know that." I file that information away to discuss with the others, later, when we aren't around Talon. That must've been so horrible for him, experiencing all of that.

  He smiles as if I've said something clever, one corner of his mouth pulling up half an inch. "Don't worry about it. You were doing what you could. But the truth is, I don't think I was in any danger of dying. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don't think this... This condition... It's not going to kill me. You guys might, trying to save me, though."

  The exaggeratedly somber expression he wears almost makes me laugh. Even now, leave it to Talon to try to cheer me up. It ought to be the other way around. "I missed this."

  He plants his tongue into one cheek. "You know that means I heard all the things you said when you thought I was passed out in a coma. If I didn't know any better, one might think you actually cared."

  I wrinkle my nose at him. "Jerkface. I think you know how I feel."

  His faint smile fades, then, and he glances away for a moment. "Yes, but does Luka?" This time, there’s no humor in his voice.

  "I think so. Actually, I know he does. He talked to me a couple of days ago about it."

  There’s a pregnant pause, then he asks, "And what did Luka say?"

  I bite my lip, thinking about how best to phrase it. The two have been best friends for most of their lives, if you ignore the couple of years after Talon discovered the Shades' true purpose and left to join the Wraiths. I have no wish to get in between that friendship.

  Finally, I say, "Aside from talking about his condition and what to do about it, he mostly wanted to... suggest... that I exercise a bit more caution in managing my feelings for you. He thought perhaps I was being a bit reckless with my heart."

  Talon manages a slight nod. He closes his eyes. "I know you still have feelings for him. I try not to be jealous of that, because you're a free w
oman. Neither of us owns you. Both of us want you, though. I see it in his eyes when he looks at you, or at least, I did before I got captured and they sucked out my magic."

  "You did?" Of course he noticed. Frankly, the two of them are handling this confusing situation better than I am. "I shouldn't be surprised. But you don't have to worry. Once again, you know how I feel about you. How could you not, after that day in the woods?"

  His eyes snap open, and though they are now sunken, I see a spark behind them I haven't seen since he awoke. Although I feel warmth flooding my cheeks, I don't look away.

  He says, "You're pretty when you're embarrassed, Ella. I was thinking about that, too. Not just right now. What we shared that day has been hovering at the front of my thoughts most of the time ever since. What we did isn't new to me as it was to you, but how I feel about it? That's another matter altogether. That is as new to me as it is to you. And yet..."

  My eyebrows creep downward into a scowl. "And yet, what?"

  Talon looks up toward the ceiling and lets out a long breath. "There is an elephant in the room between us. Luka might be right about warning you not to be hasty, even if the warning has come far too late for us both to do much about it."

  Oh. That. "You're worried about who my real father is."

  He only nods.

  "I refuse to worry. Certainly, my mother didn't think it was likely. Plus, I look nothing like Kasik and everything like my father. I look like him even more than like my mother, people say. But the most compelling fact in all of this has to do with our Gifts. My particular magic simply isn't anywhere in Kasik’s lineage. Not in any form, and definitely not in the form it took with me."

  Talon pauses as he stares into my eyes, but then he nods once, slowly. "That is pretty compelling. Even if our Gifts don't manifest precisely the same way from generation to generation, there's usually some identifiable, connecting theme between a child's magic and someone in the last few generations—on back to the beginning, if one checks the records."