by E. E. Holmes
“What mental facility?” I asked.
Savvy gestured grandly around the dining room. “You’re looking at it, mate.”
Hannah gasped. “So, they lied to her?”
“Yeah,” Savvy said. “Only way to get her here. We’ve been trying for a few months now to get her to participate in her training, but she absolutely refuses to believe that any of it is really happening. She says we’re just, ‘encouraging her illness.’ It’s a bloody nightmare.”
“Wow,” I said. I tried to imagine sticking to a spirit-free version of reality while at a place like Fairhaven, which was quite literally swarming with spirits. It was hard to believe that anyone could be that stubborn. “Sounds like you have your work cut out for you.”
“You’ve got that right,” Savvy said, shaking her head. “I was excited about it when I first started. You know me, I love a good challenge. But now I’ve got to admit, I’m discouraged. I just keep telling her it’s no good denying reality, that she’ll have to accept it sooner or later, because it ain’t going away. No joy so far.”
“What about the other half of her Gateway? Doesn’t she have someone else to help her through it? It can’t just be her!” Hannah said.
“She’s got a second cousin here with her. Her name’s Penny. They’d never met before arriving here. Penny’s Visitations started out of the blue as well, but she’s just accepted it, and she’s ready and willing to learn. Problem is she won’t be able to put any of her skills to use if Frankie doesn’t cooperate,” Savvy said.
“Maybe I could talk to her?” Hannah suggested timidly.
Savvy perked up at once. “Would you?”
Hannah shrugged. “Sure. I’m not sure if it will help, but I could try.”
“That would be brilliant, Hannah! Cheers!” Savvy said, raising her glass to Hannah and swigging it down in one gulp. “I wasn’t too keen on being a mentor at first, but now that I’m in it, I don’t want to get the sack because I’m cocking it up.”
“Funny, that’s basically how I feel about this entire trip,” I said. “I really didn’t want to come, but now that I’m here, I’m afraid I’m going to vote wrong.”
Mackie gave a little snort of a laugh. “How can you vote wrong? It’s voting. I think the only way you can do it wrong is by… well, not doing it!”
“I spend most of my time trying to steer clear of Durupinen drama, and now I have to make informed decisions about how it should all be run! It feels sort of—I don’t know—hypocritical,” I said.
“Hey, you’ve got to police a Gateway, so you get a vote. It’s only fair. They’re letting me vote, after all, and who’s less informed than yours truly?” Savvy said. “I’m the first in my clan, and I slept through most of my training, remember? I’m basically a vacuum of Durupinen information.”
I laughed. “Okay, I’m starting to feel slightly more qualified.” I should have realized Savvy would be voting, but I hadn’t thought of it. At least having her there would liven things up, although I could also imagine a scenario where we got in a lot of trouble, like the kids who won’t stop goofing around in the back of the classroom. I’d have to seriously consider how close we sat to each other, and if the hilarity would be worth the dirty looks.
“You’re not voting, right Mackie?” Hannah asked.
Mackie shook her head. “No boring meeting sessions for me! Celeste is representing our clan in the Airechtas. She’s got an important role this year, as Deputy Priestess. Hey, speak of the devil!”
Mackie looked over our heads and waved. We all turned to see Celeste hurrying across the room toward us. Her face was full of concern.
“Oh lord, she doesn’t look very happy, does she? Wonder what I’ve forgotten to do now?” Mackie muttered, rolling her eyes.
Celeste arrived behind Mackie’s chair and gave her niece’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Hello, girls! Jess, I haven’t seen you since you got in! How are you, dear?”
“Jet-lagged, but I’ll survive,” I said with a smile.
“Mm-hmm,” Celeste said distractedly. She seemed to not even have really listened to my answer. Her eyes kept darting over her shoulder.
“Everything alright, Celeste?” I asked.
“Yes, of course,” she said, and then sighed. “No, I’m afraid not, actually. I detest having to be the one to tell you this. You should have had more warning, but I only just found out myself, or I would have—”
I felt my heart speed up. “Celeste, what is it? Just tell us!”
“I didn’t want to take the chance that you’d just turn the corner and there she’d be,” Celeste said. “I still can’t quite believe they’ve allowed it, but—”
Hannah’s fork clattered to the table and she gasped. Her complexion had gone the color of milk as she stared at what must surely have been a terrifying apparition in the doorway.
“What is she doing here?” Hannah asked in a strangled whisper.
We all turned. Marion Clark was striding into the dining room with her head held haughtily high, as though she were surveying her kingdom rather than simply arriving for a meal. The first time I’d ever seen her had been in this room, on my first morning at Fairhaven. She had introduced herself as a member of the Council and proceeded to explain to Hannah and me that we were outcasts who didn’t belong amongst the Apprentices, and that we would never live down the shame and dishonor with which our mother had tainted us. As if that weren’t enough, she then tried to have us thrown in prison for the crime of our parentage, and capped it all off by engineering a coup to replace Finvarra as High Priestess. The last time I’d seen Marion was the day before I left Fairhaven in the aftermath of the Isherwood Prophecy. She had been entering the Grand Council Room escorted by two Caomhnóir, where she would face the consequences of her disastrous decisions. Her face had not looked quite so smug then.
“What the hell?” I hissed. “What the actual hell is she doing here? Fiona told me she was banished from the castle after everything that happened with the Prophecy!”
“She was,” Celeste said. “She’s here on special dispensation from the Council for the Airechtas. She made the request at the last minute, and it was only just approved last night. Siobhán handed me an updated list a few minutes ago, and I happened to see her name on it. Of course, I hastened to find you right away, because… well, I didn’t want her to surprise you like that.” She gestured helplessly toward the doorway, where Marion was now shaking hands with a small knot of chattering women.
“Who approved her request?” I asked, incredulous. “Shouldn’t the whole Council vote on something like that?”
“Typically, yes, a decision like that would require a vote from the entire Council. But she appealed directly to Finvarra, and Finvarra granted her request,” Celeste said.
“Finvarra?” I cried, struggling to keep my volume under control. “But… Marion tried to unseat her! She actually ordered that Finvarra be locked up! What in the world would make Finvarra grant her request?”
Celeste shook her head. “I can’t say for sure. It seems that Finvarra made the decision without consulting any other Council members.”
“Karen’s going to flip out when she hears about this,” I said. “She never would have sent us if she thought Marion was coming.”
Celeste nodded. “I would hardly blame her.”
Over Celeste’s shoulder, I watched as Marion broke free from her circle of greeters. She took a few steps across the room and then froze as her eyes found mine. Once upon a time her haughty face would have curved into a malicious smirk. She would have strolled across the room and humiliated us with an entitled tirade about the importance of duty and tradition. But not today. Today, still tainted by her recent disgrace, she stopped in her tracks, eyes widening, complexion whitening. She then changed course abruptly, bypassing the buffet line and heading straight to a table as far from us as she could get without leaving the room.
Hannah and I turned to look at each other, eyebrows raised.
“I guess not,” Hannah said. Her mouth twitched.
“Are you smiling?” I asked her, breaking into one myself.
“Maybe. I don’t know. That was… kind of awesome,” Hannah said with a shrug.
Savvy roared with laughter. “The old cow goes scurrying for cover at the very sight of you? That’s brilliant!”
“Yeah, well, she recovers herself quickly, that one,” Mackie said. “I wouldn’t count on her being all meek and contrite this week.”
My smile faded. I turned to Celeste. “And you have no idea why she wanted to be here?”
Celeste grimaced. “I said I had no idea she was coming. I actually have a pretty good idea why she wants to be here, though.”
“Why?” Hannah, Savvy, Mackie and I all said at once.
Celeste leaned over the table, and we all huddled around her so as not to miss a word. “You know Marion was stripped of her seat on the Council three years ago. That seat has remained vacant since then, because a Council seat can only be filled once every five years at the Airechtas. Every single clan must participate in the selection process and vote in the election; it is compulsory. That seat is now up for reelection this week, and I’m quite sure that’s why she’s here.”
“She’s not actually going to try to get it back?” I hissed.
Celeste shook her head. “She can’t. Even if everyone in that room were to stand up and vote for her to regain that seat, she is ineligible to retake it. In fact, her entire clan is forbidden from running for it. But she will undoubtedly try to influence who does get the seat. It will be important to her that the space is filled with a like-minded clan, someone who could put forward the same kinds of policies and votes that she herself would have contributed.”
“So, she’s here to campaign for someone?” I asked.
“That’s a succinct way of putting it, yes,” Celeste said.
“Well, at least we know what we’re going to do with one of our votes this week,” I muttered. “Voting against whoever Marion suggests for the Council.”
“That goes for me as well,” Savvy said. “I don’t even need to know who it is, if I’m honest.”
Celeste gave us a stern look. “Now, girls. It’s part of your duty to listen to all of the arguments, all of the speeches, and then make an informed decision about that open seat. You mustn’t let biases rule your better judgement.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. Her mouth curved into the merest suggestion of a smile before she could get it under control.
At that moment, Finn marched into the dining room. He scanned the room until he found us, and made a beeline for our table. Celeste saw the purpose with which he approached and stepped swiftly to the side to make room for him. Finn gave her a respectful nod as he passed her and strode right up between Hannah and me.
“Marion is here,” he said without preamble.
“We know. She’s sitting right over there,” I said, pointing.
Finn looked up and seemed to shrink a little. “Oh. Right. Well, I’d hoped you hadn’t seen her yet.”
“It was good of you to try to warn us, Finn,” Hannah said.
“Yeah, everyone is just a little bit behind the ball on that one today,” I told him. “Celeste tried to head her off, too, but it sounds like she surprised everyone by showing up.”
“Are you both… that is to say… are you quite… alright?” He avoided my face so completely that he might have been asking the question to his boots.
“We’re fine,” I said.
“Right. Well, then. I’m due out in the courtyard for a Caomhnóir roll call and meeting,” he said and, giving a stiff little bow, he turned on his heel and marched out.
I immediately dropped my eyes to my plate again, and began shoveling food into my mouth, trying to appear completely unaffected by the arrival of Finn Carey, but the truth was that my heart and mind were racing with more emotions than I could conceivably keep track of.
I heard Hannah ask Celeste a question about the structure of the Airechtas sessions, leaving me free to recover from the encounter.
I was starting to feel like I had cornered the market on complicated relationships, and my relationship with Finn was no different. Finn had been assigned to Hannah and me as our Caomhnóir during our first month at Fairhaven, and by all appearances at the time, he absolutely loathed me. He barely spoke to me or looked at me, if he could help it. I had chalked it up to his strict Caomhnóir upbringing; all Caomhnóir were taught that Durupinen were basically evil temptresses who would stop at nothing to distract them from their all-important duty of protecting our Gateways. This attitude sprang from the ancient and strictly kept rule that relationships between Durupinen and Caomhnóir were forbidden. So, imagine my surprise when I learned that it was only his deep feelings for me that kept Finn at such a distance. And imagine my further surprise when, once I dug through all my resentment about the archaic system of burly men protecting helpless women, I realized I had feelings for him, too.
When we had all survived the Isherwood Prophecy unscathed, it seemed for a short time like Finn and I would be together. But Seamus and the other Caomhnóir caught wind of our budding romance, and he threatened to reassign Finn if he didn’t keep our relationship strictly professional. And so, it was another three long years until, barely two months ago, we finally gave in to our feelings for each other while on assignment for the Trackers. We had been secretly together ever since. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Hannah, though I was quite sure she and Milo had a shrewd idea of what was going on. And now that we were back at Fairhaven, under the stern gaze of the Council and the Caomhnóir Brotherhood, we had to pretend that we loathed each other on principle, just like when we first met. If our relationship was discovered, the consequences were almost too terrible to consider. Finn would surely be reassigned to another Gateway, as far from me as they could conceivably send him. I would have to live my life under the watchful eye of a new and likely hostile Caomhnóir, who would make it his life’s mission to ensure that Finn and I never crossed each other’s paths again.
All of this was rocketing around inside me every time I saw Finn—the love, the fear, the paranoia, the resentment—all roaring in me at once like a many headed monster. And the worst part was that I could see no solution. There was no happy ending here.
The one upside to this absolute train wreck of a relationship was that I had developed a remarkable poker face. I swallowed my food and looked up once more, to find the conversation about the Airechtas in full swing around me.
“…will start with the opening ceremony and then the daily sessions will begin. Each day there will be a morning session, during which all proposals for the day will be brought forth on the agenda, and arguments heard. Then in the afternoon, after everyone has had time to consider what they have heard that morning, there will be a vote on each measure one by one. Then the decisions will be recorded in the official register and the Airechtas will be dismissed for the day.”
“That sounds straightforward,” Hannah said, with more interest than I would have thought she had in the subject. Then I saw her catch my eye, and I knew she had brought it up to distract from the Finn incident. God bless my sister and her timely bursts of intuition.
“Oh, it is. We’ve got it down to a science, several centuries later,” Celeste said with a smile. “You’ll be bored out of your mind with the efficiency of it all. Well, if you’re sure you’re both alright, I’m going to dash. Lots to do still, before the Airechtas officially kicks off.”
“We’re fine,” I assured her, and Hannah nodded in agreement. “Go organize boring meeting stuff.”
Celeste gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze and then hurried away across the dining room, pausing here and there to shake a hand or share a greeting with someone. Finally, with a last look at us over her shoulder, she swept out into the entrance hall.
§
&nb
sp; Hannah, Mackie, Savvy, and I sat up for a long time chatting in a common area off of the dining room. Milo finished his victory tour of the castle and grounds and decided to grace us with his presence. It was a welcome distraction to be around such good friends—it almost made me forget where I was and the fact that I didn’t want to be there. We talked and laughed until a maid came around to douse the fire and lock up the lower rooms for the night, effectively kicking us out. When we arrived back at our room, I was surprised to see Finn standing there outside our door like a bouncer at the world’s lamest dance club. Hannah and Milo said hello to him, but slipped quickly inside, closing the door behind them and leaving us alone in the deserted hallway.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey, yourself.”
“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again today,” I said, and was instantly annoyed at how forlorn my voice sounded. I reached for his hand but drew back at once. “Whoa! You’re freezing!”
“Braxton held an official roll call, and it took a bloody lifetime to get through all the clans. The barracks couldn’t hold us all; we had to move out to the courtyard. We were freezing our arses off,” Finn said with a chuckle. “I just hope we don’t all wind up with pneumonia. Enough about that, though.” He reached out for both of my hands and held them tightly, ignoring my gasp at the chill. His eyes didn’t just look at me; they searched me, as though they would find any hurt or pain hidden there and smite it. “Of course, we couldn’t really speak freely in the dining room. How are you really, with Marion here?”
“I’m fine. Really!” I added, when he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “It was definitely a shock to see her walk in, but once we got over that, it was pretty anticlimactic. Honestly, I think she was as unhappy to see us as we were to see her.”
Finn still had a suspicious gleam in his eye, but he let it slide, which was refreshing for him.
“I was proud that you showed some restraint and didn’t karate chop her in the face,” I said to him.
