“Wait,” Mr Anderson said, holding his hand out. “What about Jocelyn? He’ll be stopping by, won’t he? We don’t want her accidentally latching on to him…”
“Don’t worry, Min has made sure that won’t happen.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, feeling out of the loop.
“We had to take special precautions when it came to Jocelyn,” Cormac said. “We have made sure that you will not be able to meld with or use his ability, even accidently, until you are ready.”
“Why not, what’s the big deal? You all worried that I’ll start reading your minds?” I laughed.
“No, no, it’s not that,” Cormac said, growing serious. “I’m not sure you realize how far-reaching Jocelyn’s ability actually is. He is one of the most powerful Holders in recorded history, and, like all Holders, his power increases with age. The vast majority of mind-reading Holders – even the fully empowered and awakened ones – can only read the thoughts passing through the average mind, and compel thoughts. Jocelyn however is in a league all his own. Not only can he read the thoughts a person thinks as they are thinking them, but can also look back into their memories, sifting through the millions of thoughts they have had over the course of their lifetime to find the exact thought or memory he wishes to see. Not only can he compel the thoughts of others, making them do anything he wishes, but he can change, create, and even erase memories, without the person having any idea it was done. And once a thought has been erased, it cannot be returned.”
“But you said he can create memories, couldn’t he just put back anything he erased?”
“The best he could do would be to recreate the memory, but it would never be the same as the original. If a thought or memory was only altered then he can set it right again, but once something is gone, it’s gone for good. So,” he chuckled, “you can see why we might be nervous about letting you have access to him in that sense, especially while you are still so new to this. You could try to read someone’s mind, and wind up accidentally eradicating every thought they have ever had.”
“And Ryland?” I asked, knowing his ability was less than a day from being fully awakened and suddenly fearing for all of humanity.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, guessing my fears. “The odds are that Ryland will be vastly less powerful than Jocelyn. At best he might be able to compel, but I doubt he will be able to cause any real damage. We won’t know for sure until tomorrow, but I wouldn’t worry too much.”
“What about me? Can I just skip that one altogether? Sounds like that safer option…”
“You will learn it in time, but that won’t come until much later, when you are ready. For now, we will keep to the abilities with a much smaller margin for error, like Imparting.” He gestured to Mr Anderson. “Now, relax, take a deep breath, and explore.”
I did as he suggested, taking a long breath in and out through my nose, and focusing on the abilities I felt in the room. Cormac’s was easy to recognize due to our experiment yesterday, and since I’d already joined with his energy once I turned my attention to Mr Anderson. Using my own ability I reached out to his specific touch against my mind, melding our abilities, just as I’d done with Cormac.
“Ho!” Mr Anderson said. “You did something there, didn’t you?”
“I’ve connected my ability with yours,” I admitted.
“What do you feel?” Cormac asked him.
“I don’t know.” He paused, looking slightly enamored. “It’s warm, comforting. If I didn’t know what it was, I might think it was only a change in my mood.”
“May I?” Cormac asked me, extending his hand. I took it in mine, allowing him to read us.
“Did I do it right?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” Cormac replied, “and quicker too this time. Was it difficult?”
“No, not at all,” I laughed, thrilled at how easy and natural it was, “but will people always know when I am connected to them?”
“Perhaps at first, but with practice you will learn subtlety.”
“Well, come on then, let’s give it a go!” Mr Anderson said, seeming as excited as I was.
“OK, how?” I asked, looking expectantly at Mr Anderson. When his only answer was to look back at me in confusion, I began to worry. Was I supposed to be able to figure this out on my own? I could feel our connection, feel his ability flowing through me, but as for actually harnessing or using it, I was clueless. “What do I have to do?” I asked again, hoping he hadn’t understood that I was looking for direction.
“I don’t know,” Mr Anderson said.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I asked. “It’s what you do.”
“I can’t explain it, I just… do it.”
Well, that wasn’t very helpful. I tried simply thinking the statement, “It’s Monday”. When that didn’t work, I thought it louder, concentrating on Cormac’s forehead. No good. For the next ten minutes the three of us stood in silence as I mentally shouted, screamed, whispered, and strained my way to a headache, trying everything I could think of to impart “It’s Monday!” to either of the two men before me, all to no avail.
Undoubtedly seeing the tension in my face, Cormac placed a hand on my arm. “Relax Becca, there is no rush. We don’t need you popping any blood vessels,” he smiled, trying to get me to loosen up.
“I don’t know what to do,” I grumbled, irritated.
“You are trying too hard, you can’t force it. Loosen up and allow it to come on its own.”
I sighed – or huffed might be a better word– and closed my eyes, letting the knots in my shoulders unwind. Focusing only on what I could feel, not what I wanted to feel, I examined the two entwined abilities for some clue that I was missing. I gathered up some of the flowing energy, concentrating it in front of my mind, then gently thought through it, aiming directly at Cormac.
It’s Monday.
“Haha!” he yelled, grabbing my arms and giving me a triumphant shake. “That’s my girl!”
“She’s done it?” Mr Anderson asked?
“Yes! ‘It’s Monday’, clear as a bell!” he gushed. “Go on, try again.”
“Aye, me this time,” Mr Anderson said, not about to be left out.
I gathered up the ability in front of my waiting thought, and spoke through it, this time toward Mr Anderson.
I think I’ve got it.
“Holy Mother o’ Christ!” he exclaimed, jumping back with a laugh. “Got it indeed!”
The remainder of the hour was spent practicing and learning control. I’d impart to Cormac, then Mr Anderson, then both of them at once. Then they began walking around the room and I would have to impart different thoughts to each of them as they moved, honing my precision, and trying not to cross the thoughts. At one point, I imparted to Cormac I’m getting itchy, while simultaneously imparting My brain feels hungry to Mr Anderson, but otherwise once I cracked the code, it went really well.
“I see we’ve made progress,” Min said, calling our attention to the door as she entered. I’d been so focused on my imparting I hadn’t even sensed her arrival.
“She’s a regular Imparter if ever I’ve seen one!” Mr Anderson said, clapping me on the back.
“Indeed, she has done marvelously well,” Cormac added.
“Good,” Min said, nodding. “And Becca, do you feel all right?”
I feel great, I imparted proudly to all three of them, earning me a laugh from each.
“That’s my girl!” Mr Anderson said, throwing his arm around my shoulders and giving me a gruff squeeze.
“That is very impressive for your first time, and while I hate to bring an end to a productive afternoon–”
She stopped when she saw me suddenly look toward the door.
“Someone is coming,” I announced, feeling the approach of a new ability.
“Can you tell who?” Cormac asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “I do recognize it. It was definitely someone who was with us in the meeting yesterday, but there were so
many abilities in the room I can’t be sure who this one belongs to.”
We all looked to the door as it swung open to reveal – Alex. I felt a sharp pinch in my throat as I tried to swallow, fixing my gaze on his chest, afraid to meet his eyes.
A book in his hand, he took two steps before freezing, obviously not expecting to find the room already occupied. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” he said, turning to go.
“No lad.” Mr Anderson stopped him, in his usual cheerful way, though I could also hear the note of sympathy in his voice. “We’re on the way out, not to worry.”
“Yes, in fact I am needed for an appointment,” Cormac said. “Anderson, would you mind escorting me to Dr Van den Honert’s office? I don’t believe I know the way.”
“Of course, of course,” Mr Anderson said, following Cormac toward the door.
“You did a marvelous job today, Becca,” Cormac said, with a gentle pat on my shoulder as he passed by me.
“Thank you,” I replied, mortified that my voice shook.
The two men left, leaving Alex, Min and me in an eggshell of an atmosphere, none of us sure what to do next. Min made the first move, taking my Sciathed arm in her hands and replacing the Block, while Alex and I hung in a strange state of seeing each other without really looking at one another.
Finally, I’d had enough. If he wasn’t going to break the tension then I would. For all I knew – or had solid proof of anyway – his recent mood change had nothing at all to do with me, and until I found out otherwise, I would go on as if nothing between us had changed. He might not reciprocate, but at least this way I was part of the solution as opposed to the problem.
I gulped back my unease and smiled at him, gesturing toward the enormous book he was carrying. “A little light reading?” I teased, hoping at the very least to see him smile.
He did smile, but it was that same sad, not quite real smile he’d given me yesterday, that made my chest ache. “Just bringing it back,” he said.
He came toward us, as Min and I happened to be standing just in front of the bookshelf, and I held my breath, waiting for him to speak. My hopes were high when he hesitated for a split second as he passed me, giving me what almost looked like a real grin, before it turned into an awkward swallow.
I let out the breath, disappointed and torn. What could I do? I couldn’t force him to talk to me. Should I let it go? Should I try again? I felt the woven cross in my pocket, pressing against my leg telling me yes, while the distant and withdrawn vibe coming off of Alex told me no.
I was at a total loss as to what to do, desperately trying to think of something I could do or say before he left, and I lost my chance. Though, as it turned out, I didn’t have to think for long. Because as he passed by me again, on his way back toward the door, for the slightest moment…
…his hand touched mine.
20
It was just the slightest graze of his finger against the back of my hand, but the jolt it gave me – the pounding shockwave it ignited in my body – felt as though I’d grabbed hold of a livewire and couldn’t let go.
Alex continued to stride quickly out of the room, having not even noticed the seemingly insignificant touch. A touch that had my insides screaming and reeling as they were sucked into tremulous rapids of emotion, that was cutting through me, breaking and unweaving the deepest pillars of my core, then stitching me back up again. And the thread – the bonding agent that was now holding me together – was Alex.
All of a sudden, it was as though Alex was part of me. A part I could barely remember being without. As though he’d always been there in the background of my life, and I simply hadn’t realized it. In an instant he’d become my foundation; the canvas that my life was painted on, the idea of which was as subtle as it was all-encompassing, and as comforting as it was terrifying.
My God, what was happening to me?
I began to shake with cold, while my skin felt hot and feverish. I wanted it to stop but the ripples continued to surge on, shaking and rearranging me as they went, like clearing the screen on an Etch-A-Sketch only to draw the same picture again, but in a different color.
“Becca?” I heard Min call, realizing that she was all but holding me upright. “Becca, can you hear me? Just breathe, it will pass.” She began to lead me out into the hall and toward her office, walking as quickly as my trembling legs would allow, all the while whispering words of comfort. “Keep breathing, we’re almost there,” she continued, as we arrived at her office door. “We don’t want you passing out.”
My mind continued to swim as Min guided my wobbling form through the door and over to the couch, setting me down to rest. She hurried over to her cabinet, grabbing a glass bottle and pouring its contents into a cup along with water from a teapot on the stove.
“Drink this,” she said, handing me the glass, and taking a seat on the couch next to me. “The kettle’s been off for a while so it is cold, but it will help.”
I drank it down without even bothering to ask what it was, still waiting for my insides to be put right again. I looked up at Min, praying she would have a way to fix me, or at least an explanation, but I found her hand over her mouth, and her eyes dancing as though she were covering a grin.
A grin? What the hell could possibly be funny about this?
“Are you feeling better?” she asked, and now I was certain she was amused.
“A little,” I said, my voice squeaky. “What was that? Why do I feel like this?”
“Feel like what? Tell me.”
I got the feeling that she didn’t need a description, but I tried to play along. “I don’t know,” I stammered, “different. Like…” I died off, not knowing what to say. The truth was it was like Alex was suddenly and inexplicably the center of my whole world, and all I could think about was going to see him and never being away from him, and a ton of other overly-emotional things that were way too cheesy and melodramatic for someone like me to ever admit to, so I stuck with, “…different.”
She smiled knowingly, her obvious amusement really starting to wear on my nerves. “It’s Alex, yes?”
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t need to. It was written all over me, I was sure. All I could do was stare, imploring her to be straight with me. Then, out of nowhere, she started to chuckle. “Poor Alex,” she laughed to herself, shaking her head. “Wait until he finds out that all his worrying has been for nothing!”
I was at my wit’s end. “Min!” I yelled through clenched teeth. “I need answers! What is wrong with me?” The tears were brimming in my eyes before I could stop them, and I was horrified at the realization that I was actually about to cry.
Thankfully, Min took pity on me, placing my empty cup on the floor, and gathering my hands in hers. “He’s your Anam,” she said gently, giving my hands a pat. “That is what happened to you. That is why you feel the way you do. It is normal to feel strange and be emotional for a while, but that part will pass once your mind becomes used to the bond you’ve created.”
I blinked, not understanding. “That can’t be right,’ I said. “Chloe told me about all that Anam stuff, and she said it had to be a Holder and a non-Holder.”
“If Chloe is where you have been getting your information on the subject then there is more we will need to discuss than I thought,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Chloe believes that the Anam bond is all true love, and fairy tales, and butterflies, but it is much more substantial than that.” She paused, thoughtfully choosing her words before continuing. “Finding your Anam is like finding an extension of yourself in another person. Someone who will likely be very much like you in many respects, but also very different in others. Someone who complements you, balances you. They provide strength for your weaknesses, humility to your brashness, and comfort to your fears.”
She stood and went over to one of the bookcases on the wall, pulled out a thick blue book and brought it back to the couch. The cover was worn, but I could see an image embossed onto the leather that loo
ked familiar.
“Is that the Iris?”
She nodded, opening to a brightly colored page, then handing the book over to me. The page was covered in an ornate drawing of two people, surrounded by a frame of intricate Celtic knots and other decorative images. The style reminded me of Egyptian hieroglyphs, the way the shapes were simple and the people were nondescript in gender, yet the level of detail and elaborate decoration reminded me of the icons of saints in Orthodox churches. The couple in the picture were standing with their bodies facing forward, while their heads were turned to the side, looking at each other and smiling. In the center of each of their chests was a gold circle with faded edges as if to represent light, but the figure on the left had a much smaller light than his right side counterpart. In the center there was a golden ray connecting the two lights, expanding in size as it went from left to right, almost as if the smaller light were feeding the larger.
“When a Holder,” Min said, pointing to the figure on the right with the larger light, “finds the non-Holder they are destined for,” she continued, now pointing to the other figure, “their spirits recognize one another, and the Holder is bound to that person forever.” She touched the two lights and traced the frame encircling the couple. “The legend tells us that this bond was created when the goddess created new non-Holders from all the removed portions of the Holder’s souls, but it has also been said that this was not merely an accident. Many Holders believe, myself included, that it was done intentionally, so that each Holder would not have to bear the burden of his or her ability – and they are burdens at times – without someone there to give them strength.” She slid her finger across the golden light connecting the two spirits. “Give them love and support to lighten their load. Give them life.”
“But, if all that is true, then I shouldn’t have bonded with Alex. He’s a Holder; I should have bonded with a non-Holder.”
“There you are with that word again, what did I tell you about that?” she said, pursing her lips. “I won’t try to explain it, because the truth is I cannot. All I know is that you and Alex are Anams. I am as certain of that as I am that I live and breathe. Your tongue can protest all it wants, but your saol cannot lie.”
The Holders Page 19
