The World of The Gateway Boxset

by E. E. Holmes

  I darted around my table and sprinted across the room, dropping to my knees beside Siobhán. Her eyes were rolling back in her head, and her body was convulsing.

  “She promised, she promised,” she was hissing through clenched teeth. “It’s closed! Why is it closed? She promised!”

  “Celeste!” I cried over the general commotion. “It’s just like Catriona!”

  Celeste was already hurrying down the platform and over to us. “What do you mean? What’s the same?”

  “She’s saying exactly the same things Catriona was saying back in her office,” I said breathlessly. “She’s saying, ‘She promised!’ and something about, ‘It’s closed.’ I don’t know what any of it means, but Catriona was saying it, too.”

  Celeste’s eyes widened in horror. “And the fire. Mrs. Mistlemoore told me something happened with the fireplace in the office as well?”

  “Catriona lost it when she noticed the fire burning in the fireplace. She tried to smother it with a tapestry from the wall,” I confirmed.

  Celeste looked down at Siobhán’s struggling figure for a moment with an expression of growing horror, then pulled herself up to her feet.

  “Everyone please remain in your seats. Stay calm,” she called commandingly over the commotion. Desperate for a bit of direction, everyone obeyed. Durupinen crawled out from under tables and climbed down off of chairs, where many had been trying to get a better look at what was happening with Siobhán.

  Up on the platform, Council members were flooding down from their benches and Finvarra was struggling to stand up from her wheelchair, while Carrick and the nurse pled loudly with her to stay in her seat. Finvarra was protesting, but it wasn’t much of an argument, as she clearly couldn’t even support her own weight. Meanwhile Siobhán was writhing on the floor like a frantic animal, blinded from reason by her own—or someone else’s—terror.

  As Siobhán struggled she turned her head and, for the briefest of moments, two things were clear. First, she was not the person looking out at me from those eyes. And second, I had seen those very eyes somewhere else before, staring out from the wrong face.

  “Celeste,” I whispered. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but whatever is possessing Catriona… it’s possessing Siobhán, too.”

  35

  Nemesis

  SIOBHÁN WAS CARRIED, thrashing and screaming, off to the hospital ward, and the Airechtas was placed on recess. Finvarra was whisked away to her tower to recover what little strength she still had. The remainder of the clans were asked to remain in the Grand Council Room until further notice.

  With formal proceedings suspended, and nothing to do but wait, people began to cluster into little groups around the room. Savvy shuffled across her row of seats and came over to sit with us, parking herself casually right on top of our table.

  “What do you reckon?” she muttered eagerly. “What was that all about, then?”

  I filled her in on what I had witnessed with Catriona that morning, and then about our experience outside of the hospital wing. Her eyes widened with every new revelation.

  “So, you reckon whatever possessed Catriona is now possessing Siobhán?” Savvy asked. “But how?”

  “Well, that’s the part I don’t understand. I mean, at first I thought Catriona must have been the victim of a forced Habitation. But, like I said, there was no way this could have happened while we were inside the office, because of the Wards. So, that meant she had to be walking around with a spirit inside her for hours—maybe even days—before it took her over like that. I just don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “No way, mate,” Savvy said. “I’ve had more than the occasional Habitator, always by choice of course, and there is no bloody way a spirit just strolled into Catriona without her noticing. It’s the most invasive experience I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said. “Speaking of spirits who have invaded my body, any word from Milo?” I added to Hannah. She had filled him in through our connection immediately after Siobhán had been taken from the room.

  “No, not yet. He said he was going to float up to the hospital ward and see what he could find out. He can’t get in there without permission, but he can at least haunt the entrance like we did. Hopefully he’ll find out something soon,” she replied.

  “It’s the strangest thing,” I said slowly. “I saw those eyes looking at me out of Catriona’s face, and I saw them looking out of Siobhán’s, but… I feel like I’ve also seen them somewhere else before.”

  “What do you mean?” Hannah asked.

  “I mean something about those eyes was familiar. Like I’d seen them before.”

  “And you can’t think of where?”

  I shook my head, both in reply and in an attempt to shake that tortured stare out of my head. It was a very unsettling feeling—kind of like déjà vu—to realize I knew the person looking out at me from Catriona and Siobhán’s faces and yet having not a clue who it might be.

  I turned in my seat and looked in Finn’s direction. He was standing at military attention beneath the tapestry of Agnes Isherwood. His face, usually impassive when on duty like this, was pulled into a frown of concentration; I could practically hear his gears turning, analyzing this new development and what it might mean. I knew he didn’t dare break ranks to come over to talk to me, but he must have felt my gaze, for he let his eyes drop to my face to a moment. There was a flicker of tenderness there, a contraction of the brows that meant to ask, “How are you?” I gave a tiny nod of my head, hoping to let him know that I was fine, and then quickly turned back to Hannah before anyone could notice the exchange. Hannah was already filling Savvy in on what she had sensed, first as Catriona was carried past her, and then when she looked at Siobhán.

  All the color drained from Savvy’s usually rosy complexion. She had been in Annabelle’s flat, and had witnessed the horror of the dismembered spirits used to mask Annabelle from sight. “You reckon the Necromancers are up to something, then? It’s got to be them, right?”

  Hannah shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I only know that it felt similar.”

  Savvy swallowed back something along with her dread. “That casting—whatever it was—was one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some shit. Blimey, I hope that’s not what’s happened.”

  “Me, too,” Hannah said. “I never wanted to see anything like that again as long as I live.”

  The wait in the Council Room seemed to stretch on for hours. There was no clock on the walls, no way to check to see how long we’d been sitting there. I never wore a watch because I always used my phone as my clock, but no cell phones were permitted in the meetings, and so I’d left it reluctantly upstairs in our room. We alternated between periods of tense silence and waves of agitated whispering. There was no real reason for everyone to keep their voices down, but for some unspoken yet universally accepted reason, we all did, at least at first. But the longer the wait went on, the louder the conversational periods grew and the less cooperative people became with this mandate.

  Finally, Marion stood up and marched purposefully over to the Caomhnóir who were guarding the main entrance doors.

  “We cannot be kept here indefinitely. Open the doors. I’m going to find out what is happening,” Marion said, in the imperious tone she used so well.

  Seamus, who was also very masterful in his ability to assert his authority, did not even deign to look down at her as he answered. “We are under strict orders to keep everyone here while the situation is assessed.”

  “Well then, open this door at once so that I may assess the situation. It has been nearly two hours. We have been given no information. This lack of transparency is utterly unacceptable.”

  “I understand your frustration. I cannot disobey a direct order from a current member of the Council,” Seamus said through gritted teeth. He placed just the slightest emphasis on the word “current.” Marion did not miss it. She turned and
called back to the room at large.

  “Is there a current member of the Council who can order this Caomhnóir to stand aside? I will not be kept here like a prisoner,” Marion demanded.

  Fiona stood up. “The current members of the Council are following protocol that is in everyone’s best interest. I don’t see any bloody chains on your ankles. Calm down with the theatrics before you get a formal citation for insubordination. That ought to fill your record out nicely. Now why don’t you get yourself a cuppa, sit down, and shut up like everyone else. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  Everyone watched while Marion first formulated, then swallowed her biting reply. Then, with what dignity she could muster, she returned to her seat and sank slowly into it. Her entourage immediately pulled their heads together in a tight, expensively styled huddle.

  “Wow, she has a lot of nerve,” Hannah whispered to me, but I was completely distracted.

  “Cuppa? Did she say cuppa? As in coffee?”

  Hannah raised her eyebrows. “Well, no, she probably meant tea, but yes, there’s coffee. Right over there.” She pointed to a table in the back corner, hidden in the shadows of the balcony, where a row of silver coffee urns, tea pots, and plates of pastries had been set up. A few people from the back rows had already wandered over and were filling cups.

  “How long has that been there?” I cried in amazement.

  “About fifteen minutes. A couple of Caomhnóir brought it through that side door back there. You didn’t notice?”

  “No! I was too distracted contemplating the possible rise of our mortal enemies. Why didn’t you say anything? You know you have a moral obligation as my twin to alert me to the presence of caffeine!”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Hannah said sarcastically. “I was a little distracted contemplating the same thing. I didn’t really think coffee was a priority.”

  “Coffee is always a priority!” I hissed, and stalked up the aisle. Okay, so I was being a bit more dramatic than the situation warranted, but my nerves were frayed and my stomach had been snarling angrily at me for the last hour, since I had been too shaken up by my meeting with Catriona to eat much lunch.

  I snatched a little white teacup from the stack, lamenting silently to myself how little coffee it would hold, and placed it beneath the nearest spout to fill it.

  “Well, well, well, Miss Ballard. We meet again.”

  I didn’t even need to turn around to know who was speaking. In fact, in the interest of avoiding physical violence, I chose not to look. It would be easier to control myself if I didn’t have to look Marion in the face.

  “Wow, you should really write dialogue for comic book villains,” I said. I picked up a muffin and offered it to her over my shoulder. “High-calorie baked good?”

  “No, thank you,” she said, almost pleasantly.

  “Oh, that’s right, you can’t Leech the extra calories away anymore, can you? I guess you’ll just have to work out like the rest of us. I hear Zumba is a good time.”

  “My, my, insults and sarcasm right out of the gate, then? I take it from your insolent tone that you have no interest in mending fences,” Marion said.

  I laughed and turned, looking at her for the first time. “Mending fences? You can’t mend a fence that the other person has burned to the ground. And I highly doubt that you have any genuine interest in mending anything, except your own reputation.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you feel that way,” Marion said, with a sanctimonious little sigh. “I did approach you in the hopes that we might put our past disagreements behind us. You clearly do not feel the same way.”

  “I’m not a fool,” I said bluntly. “How adorable that you think ‘disagreement’ is the appropriate word choice for your singular vendetta against me and my sister. From the moment we walked in the door here, you made it your mission to kick us right back out of it. I’m not interested in putting anything behind me, and I never will be.”

  “I’m disappointed in your attitude, Jessica,” Marion said. “I had thought that the passage of a few years might have tempered your rashness with a bit of maturity. Evidently I was wrong.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m just as rash and immature as ever,” I said, with a huge grin. “So, good luck picking up the shattered remains of your reputation for the rest of the week. It’s a big job, but I’m sure you can find your dignity around here somewhere.” I indicated the floor of the Council Room with my coffee-free hand.

  “The dignity of my clan far outstrips any personal decisions I may have made three years ago. I’m here to remind the Council of that fact,” Marion said stonily.

  “It’s too bad you didn’t take that attitude three years ago, when you crucified Hannah and me for my mother’s decisions. In fact, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think tearing down an entire clan because of one person’s mistakes is how you clawed your way into a Council seat in the first place. I don’t know what ulterior motive you have coming over here and trying to make nice with me, but whatever it is, just forget it. I’m not interested.”

  I watched with satisfaction as the remainder of the smile slipped from Marion’s face. She considered me for a moment, her expression shrewd. “I have heard from a very reliable source that Finvarra is going to nominate you for a Council seat.”

  I tried not to let the shock show on my face, but I don’t think I was successful; Marion looked too smug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said when I’d recovered.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Ballard. You aren’t that good of an actress,” she replied. “How long have you known about Finvarra’s intentions?”

  I glared at her for a long moment, but couldn’t come up with a good reason not to answer the question, other than spite. “Not long. Two days.”

  Marion looked surprised. “Really? After you arrived? You meant to tell me that her offer had nothing to do with the reason you got on a plane to come here?”

  “Not at all,” I said coldly. “Not everyone drools at the scent of power, Marion.”

  “The world is full of fools,” Marion replied with a casual shrug. “So, you did not know she was going to nominate you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then. Now that you know, what are your intentions?” she asked.

  “My intentions? For what?” I asked. I knocked back my cup of scalding coffee like a shot and turned for another.

  “For the seat. Do you intend to accept the nomination?”

  I did not answer right away, choosing instead to fill my teacup all the way to the brim. As I did so, I looked up and saw Finn. He was staring at me, and the question behind his eyes could not have been clearer. Are you okay? Do you need help?

  I discreetly shook my head and gave him a tiny smile. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.

  I turned back to Marion, who seemed too intent on my impending answer to have noticed anything. “We haven’t decided yet,” I said, choosing to tell her the truth, though she did not deserve it.

  Marion laughed incredulously. “You expect me to believe that? That you have made no decision in two days as to whether you will run for one of the most powerful positions in the Durupinen leadership?”

  “I couldn’t care less whether you believe it or not,” I said. I took another long sip of coffee to cover my racing thoughts. Where was Marion headed with this? What was her endgame? Why was this any of her business? “You asked me a question and I told you the truth. We haven’t decided.”

  “Well, I have a piece of truth for you as well, my dear. I came over here to offer you a bit of advice,” she said, pressing her hands together in a demure little steeple.

  I burst out laughing. The sound echoed around the quiet hall, and several people turned to stare.

  “What is so funny?” Marion hissed, barely moving her lips. It was clear she did not want any additional attention drawn to our conversation.

  “Why do you think I would ever care about or accept your advice? Because it served me so well i
n the past? Because I value your opinion?” I said, through still more laughter.

  Marion took a step toward me and leaned in. It was a power play, but I did not back down. “You may be snarky and impudent, Miss Ballard, but you certainly are not stupid. You’ve seen how the people here have responded to your presence. They are wary. They are mistrustful. Some are even downright terrified. A grab for power now would only bring more mistrust down upon you. You will be met with a truly unpleasant backlash. People will fight, tooth and nail, to ensure your family does not reclaim that seat.”

  “And by ‘people’ I can only assume you are referring to yourself?” I asked coolly.

  Marion ignored my question but for a small smile. “I am warning you. Accept that nomination and you will throw these proceedings into chaos. Our clans are still healing. After the Prophecy, we need stability. We need order. It would be in everyone’s best interests if you and your sister sank back into obscurity where you belong.”

  My blood was pounding in my ears. I leaned in so that our faces were only a few inches apart. I could see the particles of her make-up clinging to her skin. “Never dare tell me where we do or do not belong,” I hissed at her. Then I stepped back, refilled my coffee and addressed her in a friendly, conversational tone again. “You seem to have gotten a bit off-track with your super-villain speech. Please allow me to assist. This is where you launch into the part about how you would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddlesome kids. Thanks for the advice, but next time, save it for somebody else, Marion. Or, better yet, keep it to yourself. No one who knows you will swallow a single line of whatever bullshit you’re peddling this week. I’ll see to that personally.”