by E. E. Holmes
Assuming this meant we were to follow him, Hannah and I set off. I reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze. It was clammy and trembling, as I had expected it would be.
“Why don’t you track down Milo?” I nudged her. “See if he wants to come along?”
Hannah smiled, looking slightly calmer just at the thought. “Good idea,” she said. I felt our connection to Milo expand with light and warmth as she sent the request humming through it. Almost instantly, his reply came singing back.
“You need me, I’m there. That’s the deal, sweetness.”
“I don’t know if Finvarra will let you into the office during… whatever it is she’s asking us there for,” I warned him. “But even just having your moral support would be helpful.”
“I’ll be right there,” he assured us.
Carrick, who had heard none of this, seemed to realize that he had left us far behind him. He halted his steps long enough for us to catch up to him.
“I do apologize. I’m not used to keeping step with anyone,” he said.
“That’s okay,” Hannah said.
“Yeah, it’s good to keep moving in this castle. These hallways are freezing in the winter!” I said. “At least we’re keeping our heart rates up!”
“I heard all about your first assignment for the Trackers,” Carrick said, in an attempt to make conversation. “I was pleased to hear that you handled it so well.”
“You heard that we handled it well?” Hannah asked, surprised.
“Oh yes,” Carrick said. “Catriona isn’t one to hand out compliments to anyone, but after hearing the details and reading between the lines, it sounds as though you dealt with the challenges admirably, whether she wants to admit it or not.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling profoundly relieved. “Thank you.” I’d been worried that word of our attempted Crossing would have reached the Council, or maybe even Finvarra, and that there would be fallout from it. So far though, it seemed, Catriona had either not divulged this detail to others, or those she had shared it with had not thought it worthy of note. Either way, it was just fine by me.
We couldn’t say anything more to Carrick at that point, because we had begun the long climb up the staircase of the North Tower, and it was all we could do not to collapse in a breathless heap, let alone carry on a conversation. Carrick did not knock to announce our presence, and yet we heard Finvarra’s voice from the other side of the door the moment we arrived at the threshold.
“Enter, please.”
It took me a moment to realize that Carrick would have a connection to Finvarra just as Hannah and I had to Milo, and that must have been how Carrick had alerted her that we had arrived. It was strange to think of anyone else having the same kind of bond we had with Milo.
“Wait for me, sweetness!”
“Think of the devil, and the devil will appear,” I said as Milo zoomed into being beside us.
“And just who are you calling a devil?” Milo asked, a single eyebrow perfectly arched in his outrage.
Before I could answer, Carrick cleared his throat and gestured toward the door, which was now open.
“Hello again, Carrick,” Milo said.
“Spirit Guide Chang,” Carrick said, nodding respectfully.
“Did you notice Jess’ hair? Doesn’t it warm up her skin tone?” Milo asked.
Carrick looked flustered. “I… I’m afraid I did…”
“You don’t need to answer that,” I said to Carrick. “Seriously.”
“Do you think it would be alright for Milo to come with us?” Hannah asked quickly.
Carrick did not even hesitate, glad of a question he could safely answer. “Of course. The three of you are Bound, and Finvarra understands the closeness of that bond better than anyone. You needn’t even ask. Please, enter.”
Prepared for a “no,” it took me a few moments to absorb the readiness of the answer, and to shuffle myself forward through the door. What I saw when I walked through it froze my steps again.
Finvarra sat in a wheelchair in the back of the circular room, gazing out over the grounds which were visible from the enormous windows behind her desk. She was attached to an IV; a plastic bag full of fluid hung from a metal stand beside her chair. It was shocking to see how much she had deteriorated since we had last seen her less than two months ago. Her sunken cheek rested on a shriveled, wasted hand. Her neck looked abnormally long, and her once lustrous hair was so thin that I could see her mottled scalp through it.
Hannah had been unable to stifle a gasp, and Finvarra smiled slightly at the sound of it before she turned her head to face us.
“Am I that stunning?” she asked in a quavering voice that nevertheless maintained its regal tone.
“I… I just… sorry, I didn’t mean…” Hannah stammered, but Finvarra silenced her with a wave of her skeletal hand.
“A poorly delivered joke, my dear. Believe me, I know what I look like, though I’ve decided that looking in mirrors is bad for my morale, to say nothing of my vanity.” Her eyes were kind, and I felt Hannah’s body relax beside me.
“No one told us how ill you were,” I said. “It’s just a little bit of a shock, that’s all.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Finvarra said. “Please, do sit down.”
She gestured over to a small sitting area where two wing chairs and a settee were all grouped around a coffee table. We sat in the wing chairs and then watched nervously as Carrick used his energy like a poltergeist, sliding Finvarra’s wheelchair and IV stand slowly across the floor just as if he were physically pushing it. Every tiny movement seemed to jostle and pain Finvarra, and she sat tensed with her eyes screwed up against the discomfort until the chair rolled to a gentle stop beside the settee. It was gut-wrenching to watch.
“There now, what a production,” Finvarra said when she had gathered the strength to speak again. “Imagine so much fuss just to cross a room.”
We had no idea what to say about this, so we just smiled politely. With the exception of visits to my grandfather at the Winchester Home for the Aged, I’d never spent any time around anyone who was so sick, and I could feel my palms starting to sweat. I had an unrelenting urge to run from the room so that I didn’t have to look at Finvarra and face the awful truth about the bleakness of her future.
“Now, then. How are you both?” Finvarra asked, endeavoring to keep the tone light and cordial.
Hannah looked at me as though she were stumped and wanted me to answer. “We’re fine, thank you,” I said. Courtesy dictated that I next ask how she was, but the answer to that question was so obvious that I didn’t bother.
“I was pleased to hear,” Finvarra went on, “that you did so well with your first assignment with the Trackers. I had a full report of the situation when Catriona returned.”
I smirked a bit. “I didn’t get the impression Catriona was all that impressed with the job we did,” I said.
Finvarra made a sound that was half-chuckle, half-cough. “Catriona is never impressed with anything. She fancies it makes her seem more mysterious, but I must admit I find it rather dull.”
I caught Hannah’s and Milo’s eyes and we all grinned. It was strange to hear Finvarra criticizing another member of the Council, but kind of awesome at the same time.
“So, is it your intention to remain with the Trackers, as least for the immediate future?” Finvarra asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “For now, at least.”
Finvarra nodded. “I am glad to hear it.”
We sat in silence for a few moments. Surely this couldn’t have been the only reason Finvarra wanted to see us? I mean, she could have asked us this in passing at any point during the upcoming Airechtas. It was little more than small talk, really. Why the urgent meeting? Why the privacy?
As though my silent questions had floated across the coffee table, Finvarra shifted slightly in her wheelchair, wincing, and folded her hands in her lap. “You are probably wondering why it is I have asked you here today. I del
iberated for a long time about whether I would. I nearly did so when you were here in October, but talked myself out of it. However, the Airechtas is upon us now, and I have run out of time.”
I squirmed a little. What did she mean, run out of time? She was obviously very ill, but surely wasn’t days from death. Or was she? Carrick was certainly watching her intently, as though assessing the toll that each movement, each word, was taking on her meager store of energy.
“As you may already have deduced, there is an empty seat on our Council to be filled at this year’s Airechtas. Marion has been stripped of her position as part of the punishment for her actions of three years ago. I assume you know that Marion’s Council seat once belonged to your family?”
Hannah and I nodded. Karen had told us as much when we had first arrived at Fairhaven Hall. Apparently our clan, the Clan Sassanaigh, had been one of the most powerful for centuries, until our mother’s disappearance and attendant dishonor had caused our fall from grace.
“I must now confess something to you both. I was primarily responsible for your clan’s loss of that seat. I had just become High Priestess, and I was determined to establish my authority in the midst of a messy and divisive situation. You never knew your grandmother.”
It wasn’t a question. She knew that our grandmother had died before we were born. The stress of our mother’s disappearance and our grandfather’s accident with the Gateway took a fatal toll on her heart.
“She was a… difficult woman. She did not have many friends on the Council by the time your mother ran off. She had played the system too many times, become entangled in too many underhanded bargains and betrayed too many alliances. When the opportunity came to strip her of her Council seat, I leapt at it. I knew it would be a popular decision, ensuring that many would be loyal to me going forward.”
She stared at us as though waiting for us to comment on this political chess gambit, but we knew better. When we didn’t offer words of support or condemnation, she went on.
“Your grandmother ought to have borne the weight of her own mistakes, but not those of your mother. Still, I raked her over the coals for a situation she could not possibly control. When word reached me shortly thereafter of her death, I was quite relieved. She could not cause trouble, could not bring her political prowess to bear on me for what I had done to your family. I could not have hoped for a cleaner ending to the scandal. The guilt for my part in it would not come until many years later.”
She looked down at her hands and then quickly away again, as though she had forgotten how skeletal they had become and couldn’t bear to be reminded. “I did not see my motives then as selfish, but I recognize them as such now. Your family gave centuries of devoted service to the Council, but all I could think about was elevating my own power and status. I told myself that I was doing it for the good of the Northern Clans, but that was merely an excuse, a paper-thin shroud that tore away at the slightest touch, exposing what I really was.”
“Why are you telling us this?” I asked suddenly. It was like listening to someone in confession, and I couldn’t stand the guilt of it all. “It doesn’t matter to us what happened back then, honestly. We don’t care about that Council seat. I mean, sure, it would have been nice for someone other than Marion to have had it, but—”
“I am telling you,” Finvarra interrupted, “because it matters to me. I am reaching a point where the mistakes of the past are hanging like stones around my neck. I cannot escape the weight of many of them, and shall have to drag them through the Gateway with me.”
I squirmed. She was talking about her own death so matter-of-factly. We dealt with death every day, but to be able to face it yourself with such detached composure? I couldn’t help but admire her strength.
“But this mistake,” she went on, pointing a quaking finger at the two of us, “I have the opportunity to fix, and I will take it.”
Hannah and I looked at each other, mystified. “Fix it how?” Hannah asked.
“The seat that once belonged to your family is now open. Your family is part of the Durupinen once more. I think you should run for the open seat and reclaim your family’s legacy.”
4
Pros and Cons
I BLINKED. Beside me, Hannah may as well have been made of stone. Only a tiny exclamation of “Oh, shit!” from Milo intruded on the surreal quality of the moment.
“Come again?” I whispered.
“Tomorrow at the opening of the Airechtas, the Council will hear nominations for the open seat. It will be one of the first orders of business. I intend to nominate the Clan Sassanaigh. I am hoping you will accept the nomination.”
“I… I don’t… what?” I stuttered helplessly. I looked at Hannah for support, but she was staring at Finvarra as though she had just suggested that we jump out of the window behind her.
“You want one of us to be on the Council?” I asked.
“I know that your aunt will have nothing to do with it. She has made it very clear over the past few years that she has no intention whatsoever of jeopardizing the life and career she has built to take up the mantle. But you girls are young. You have not yet carved out a path. The options lay before you, as numerous as the stars in the sky. I am merely presenting one of them for you to consider, a constellation that may not have caught your eye.”
I swallowed, but it did not help me find more of my voice; my throat suddenly felt like it was full of sand. “I still don’t understand. You all hate us… don’t you?”
Finvarra shook her head impatiently. “That is a juvenile interpretation, and I think you know it.”
“Well, if we’re so juvenile, I can’t imagine why you’d be offering us this opportunity,” I said, a spark of anger cutting through my shock. “Have a good long look at how we’ve been treated here from day one and then you tell me how we’re supposed to interpret the Council’s feelings!”
Finvarra closed her eyes and pressed her fingers over her eyes, as though her head were beginning to ache. Carrick slid forward a few feet, hovering like a concerned shadow, but Finvarra merely sighed and looked up at us again. “Forgive me. I do not wish to argue with you. I merely meant that there are many complicated emotions surrounding the Prophecy and your role in it, but hatred is not one of them. I will not deny that some Council members fear you and your abilities. Others simply mistrust you because you grew up away from our ways and traditions. But there are those among us who believe you would be an excellent addition to the Council.”
“And are these individuals on drugs, or just crazy?” I asked politely. Milo burst into nervous, maniacal laughter, which he quickly stifled. Hannah elbowed me hard in the ribs.
“What Jess means is, it seems unlikely that anyone would want us on the Council,” Hannah said. “We haven’t exactly had a warm reception since we’ve been back here.”
Finvarra nodded. “I do not deny that there are those who will not understand my decision to nominate your clan. However, there will be many more who will see your history, your abilities, and your perspective as an asset to our Council.”
“Did Karen know about this?” I asked. So help me, if she knew this was coming and didn’t warn us…
“Not in the slightest. I imagine her shock would mirror your own,” Finvarra said. “I am preparing myself for what will surely be a devil of a phone call, in fact.”
It was a joke, but I didn’t laugh. I couldn’t even smile. I could not seem to form a complete thought; my brain was sputtering inside my skull, like an engine that wouldn’t turn over. What Hannah said next further incapacitated my ability for coherent speech.
“What do you think, Carrick?” she asked.
Carrick looked positively alarmed at being addressed, but he recovered quickly. Throwing a quick glance at Finvarra, he said, “I do not pretend to understand all of the inner workings of Council politics,” he began carefully, “but I am sure that your experiences with the Council, especially your negative ones, will have endowed you with some strong
opinions about how things should be done differently. Joining the Council would ensure that those opinions would be heard and respected.”
Finvarra smiled indulgently at Carrick, and I was seized by a sudden suspicion that she had fed him the answer through their connection. Could he really give us his honest opinion while in her presence?
Carrick did not stop there though, and I was quite sure that his next words were his own. “In her time here, your mother saw much she would have liked to change. I believe Elizabeth would have leapt at the chance to enact some of those changes.”
I could not tell how these words affected Hannah. Her face, though thoughtful, remained inscrutable. For me, they were like a sucker punch to the stomach. There was no way that dragging my mother into this conversation was going to help me make up my mind. The mention of her name merely added another log to the fire of confusion burning inside me.
Perhaps some of this confusion was showing on my face, because Finvarra cut in, her voice calm. “I do not expect you to make a decision here and now. I only wished to warn you that the nomination is coming. You are free to accept or decline as you see fit. I have no expectations about your decision, and I make no guarantees about the outcome of the vote, should you decide to run for the seat. It is simply my wish to give you the opportunity to reclaim what should have been yours. Please consider it.”
It felt like a dismissal. Hannah and I looked at each other and then stood up, turning for the door. But a question bubbled up from deep inside me and I had to ask it, no matter how rude it sounded.
“Finvarra, you and I have never gotten along. From the beginning, I resented being here, and you resented having me here. We’ve had more than our fair share of arguments. I harbor no illusions that you actually like me.”
“I don’t have to like you to nominate your clan for the Council,” Finvarra pointed out.
“No, but you do have to respect us, and I’m not convinced that you do,” I said. “So, I have to ask: how much of this nomination is because you think we really would do well on the Council, and how much is because you’re trying to ease your own burden of guilt?”
