I reached a hand across the bar in front of Malcolm, peeled away the shield to both of our knuckles and laid it on top of James’. “Does it matter if the leader of the Warp Faction is human or not? It certainly doesn’t change what we need to do. We can turn the tables on them and bomb their compound but then we run the risk of being just like them. Regardless of how much Silver and I suffered at their hands I know there have to be innocents there. We aren’t in the business of killing women and children. We aren’t Warps.”
Silver finished my thought as James tapped my fingers like they were piano keys.
“So what if we call the Soul Eater out in the Web somehow or trap his mind and soul some way? If we can’t deprive him of a host to jump to, then holding him in one seems the best option. Could we use what’s happened to me with Kara’s body as a model?”
James stood so fast his chair tipped but Malcolm caught it one-handed. “Kara’s body isn’t going to be used as a cage. I won’t have that evilness inside my dead sister!” He pointed for emphasis and his face turned a blotchy red and white. The pillar of his neck was covered in red hive-like blooms of rage.
Corinne kicked the cabinets with her dangling heels and said, “That’s not what Silver was suggesting, James. If we can figure out how and why Silver’s stuck, maybe we can use that to pin the Soul Eater in a host. That isn’t a permanent solution considering when the biological host dies then the Soul Eater would be free again. Long story short, we’re in no shape to attack anyone at the moment. I say we adjourn and ponder until tonight. Everyone’s too bent out of shape to be constructive. The emotions in this freaking house are suffocating.”
If Corinne was so sensitive to all of our emotions then why hadn’t she picked up on Kara’s breakdown? True they hadn’t spent much time together due to Kara’s extreme antagonism but still… I shook the thoughts and nagging distrust away. Corinne was on our side. I had to believe that.
Malcolm clapped his hands and rubbed them together like Mr. Miyagi from the movie Karate Kid. “On that note I’m leaving. Corinne, I promise not to take my shield down unless I have to drop the kids off at the pool or talk to a man about a horse.” His smile was huge.
Our blonde warden hopped down to the kitchen tile, practically skipped over to Malcolm behind the bar and gave him a one-armed side hug around the waist. “Take care and good luck.”
He seemed embarrassed for a second at her uncommon physical gesture, then his expression softened and our eyes met over her head. There was love there, of the respectful, loyal, familial kind. I’d missed a lot being gone five years. Kevin passed around the bar toward his uncle and his girlfriend, snatching two bananas out of the fruit bowl along the way. He passed the mostly still green produce to Corinne and chest bumped Malcolm then reciprocated a fist bump. They both said, “Knuckles!” at the same time.
When Malcolm cut through the kitchen to the doorway Kal was occupying, the two men gave each other a nod as the Axsian agent moved out of the way. They weren’t friendly with one another yet, but a mutual respect was building. During trainings they’d sparred a couple of times and so far they were matched in skill if neither one used their extra abilities.
Mez carried his empty bowl to the sink and frowned. “This Council you mentioned, could they be of any assistance?”
James sat back down. “We’ve burned our bridges with one clan and two seats. If they’ve run to tell tales already, we may have lost all hope of swaying anyone to our side. Even if I’m wrong about which way the Council will go in regards to us, I’m not sure other clans are any better equipped than we are. It would increase our numbers if any of them sent aid but would leave their own positions weakened which they’re unlikely to willingly do.”
Kevin took a sip of his coffee and a drop fell on the front of his shirt but didn’t penetrate his invisible protective film. As he watched the dribble bead and repel he said, “Why not aggressively recruit Outsiders? There have to be more spontaneous Weavers in the population. Melody found me.”
I shook my head and chewed on a calloused cuticle.
Corinne snapped, “Put your shield all the way up and stop biting your fingernails, Cassandra!”
I rolled my eyes but complied. “That’s a good idea for the future, Kevin, but it’s not an immediate solution, which is what we need. It takes too long to find people that don’t know what they are. It’s not like we can advertise.”
Silver shrugged. “Let’s try the Council first, to say we did. James is right, we may not get any help from them but at least they’ll be warned. I doubt the Soul Eater plans on leaving them out of the violent festivities.”
I smiled at my strange looking sister. “To the Web then?”
She smiled back with a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “To the Web, Cass.”
Chapter Fourteen: Showdown at the Council Corral
Kal and Mez decided to accompany us on our Web sojourn to confront the Weaver Council. Silver was right, the least we could do was warn them of the storm on the horizon. I was no longer interested in claiming my seat and I didn’t think my twin was either.
I wasn’t sure how Corinne felt, so I asked as we settled into the long white leather sectional couches in the living room, “How do you feel about the Council? Are you prepared to walk away or is it too much to ask that you give up your hereditary seat?”
Corinne snuggled under her boyfriend’s arm and laid her head back against his light brown bicep with a pensive frown. Kevin had called in to the Control to tell them he’d be late to the gate with James’ approval so he could be our group minder while we were absent from our bodies. After the hit on Gerome the day we came home from Axsa, it seemed prudent, not paranoid. Corinne set her right hand down just above Kevin’s knee and the intimate touch seemed to calm her worry. “I don’t know that we should be so quick to leave our seats. We’ll see how it plays out. My suggestion would be to give lip service, then do what we will. I don’t know what sanctions they think they could possibly place on us. We wouldn’t abide by them anyway. If we could sway the Weaver Council to our side and then gain the majority it would be better than a clean split. Allies are always better than enemies.”
The living room was a huge open concept rectangle with each end capped by a transition to another room. A twenty foot off-white ceiling with a square skylight shed daylight on plush neutral carpet and attractively arranged couches surrounding a glass coffee table. There was no television mounted on the wall, just shelves lined with decorative artwork and some classical literature in between spinning globe bookends. It looked like a room for show, not living, but the cushion I was sunk into was comfortable enough. The white couches faced each other around the see-through oval table. They were large pieces of furniture capable of seating eight people each. We didn’t need that much space since there were only seven of us.
Kal chose Corinne and Kevin’s side, leaving the rest of us on the other. James sat on the floor between my legs and put each of my knees in his armpit. Mez and Silver sat as far from us as possible with Silver stretched out like a happy housecat, her head in his lap.
From that lounging, lackadaisical position Silver spoke past a yawn, “The history of the Weaver Council and its traditions aren’t something to be haphazardly tossed to the side so I agree with Corinne, but they are essentially powerless.”
James spoke up, “Who’s leading the charge? Y’all don’t wanna show up with too many generals and not enough soldiers. Corinne has the most experience.”
Corinne shrugged, making Kevin’s arm shift on her shoulders. “It’s true. My mother was grooming me to assume the throne, so to speak, but my heart never was in it. I know the alliances and backgrounds. I prefer to be a strong second in command or an advisor. My patience and my hide aren’t thick enough to deal with delicate political situations at the moment.”
We made direct eye contact and she flinched when I gave a subtle head nod to Kevin. I took that to mean she hadn’t shared about her emotional constipation
yet, and I bared my teeth in warning. She wrinkled her nose at me so I stuck out my tongue. Kevin saw my side of the exchange and looked curiously at Corinne. She winked at him and he smiled then settled against the couch with an amused expression.
Kal propped his elbow on the overstuffed couch arm. “What purpose would Mez and I have other than bearing witness to the truth of your words? I must warn you now that I am unable to interfere in the governance of this planet. It is against mine and Mez’s oath as Agents of the Galactic Alliance.”
James brought up one leg and clasped his hands over his calf. “We wouldn’t ask you to go against your ways to serve ours, Kal. We understand. I suggest Cass and I take point with the rest of you as backup. Corinne, if we misstep just send a warning thought on a tight band. Silver, I’m sorry but you tend to speak your mind even more than Cassandra so you need to be quiet and brief when you do speak. Are we ready?”
Everyone nodded and lowered their lids but Kevin. I waited a heartbeat or two to make sure they were all gone in the Web before I whispered through the amber dust motes dancing in the sunlight between us. “Corinne is fit to burst. You should be worried about her, Kevin. What was that thing y’all say? Oh yes, I remember…the situation is most definitely not Jell-O.”
His lips pursed, forcing the blood away and turning the firm, full flesh to a pale dusky rose color. “I hear you. I’ll talk to her and make her listen.”
My eyes closed as I said, “Good.” No guilt manifested at my covert words of warning. I’d already told Corinne I would tattle so I was just being true to my word.
Darkness pulled and cajoled until an awareness of my essence coalesced around me. My inner eye opened to reveal a bobbing field of illumination. Kal was visible, his green center bright inside his yellow gaseous outsides. Mez looked like an orange and yellow sun beside him.
Corinne’s mercury core still looked weighted down and off-center behind her crusted ice surface. I tamped down my worry and pocketed it for later along with the endless well of other concerns I could do nothing about.
Silver wasn’t nearly as milky anymore, and her essence looked more like a haze filled amethyst with a brilliant fluorescent light bulb center. She was almost too bright to look upon. A sea of attachments hemmed us all in and it felt like a safety net.
James and Corinne had the least connections of the group and it filled me with a deep sadness to think how alone a person could end up by no fault of their own. A pulse of love shot from the cord connecting me to James and I raced it through my core, reinforced it and sent it back triple. James’ jade green lightened from within when my care package hit home.
The Weaver Council wasn’t in a specific place, per se, but all members had a mental whistle to blow that was handed down from person to person. We knew the call but they might not listen if we were persona non grata already. My bet was they would, if for no reason other than human curiosity. Carnival freak shows had prospered for a reason.
Corinne sent a pulse outward in a circular ring that resembled a shockwave of blue light. When it passed through me I felt a tug for attention just like when another Weaver called from the Web and I wasn’t yet in it.
They must have been expecting us, or maybe they were just that organized and fast, but in seconds an angled wall of Weaver orbs was arranged in a closed circle with us in the center. It looked like a full stadium of almost forty glowing, crackling watercolor dots. The instant feel was of judgment and intimidation. My back went up, and I could feel Silver’s cynicism hiss down our bond like fast acting venom. I stemmed the automatic urge to be a smartass. James had a plan and it was a good one. We’d follow it for now. I thought a tight private beam at my twin. “Down girl. Let’s see what’s what before we go off half-cocked.”
Silver harrumphed in answer. She wanted to strike first and hard, so they’d realize we weren’t victims. Our raising hadn’t been easy with the Warps and it had ingrained certain reactions in our personalities that were understandable but not always convenient. I soothed her with a whispered promise. “That can always come later, Sister.” Her anger and mine subsided, but it was waiting like an untapped energy source screaming for release.
One daisy yellow orb with black whirlpools swimming on its surface detached itself from the mass of the Weaver Council and blasted us with a booming deep voiced thought.
“Who requests an audience without leave?”
James answered, voice basalt solid. “James Lee of the Wind Runner Clan with three genetic legacies in tow and two witnesses from afar.”
I started at the naming of our clan. No one ever used the formal title in conversation. We all knew it, but it was strange hearing it announced so naturally.
The black and yellow essence brightened and swelled as whispers of thought leaked from the many minds all around us. “What is your purpose?”
I could sense James’ boredom with the formality but he didn’t show it in his answer.
“Three Wind Runner legacies will lay proper claim to their seats and certain events of the recent past must be reported—as is expected.”
A burgundy ball that resembled a muddy garnet with a dying ember inside broke forward and joined our inquisitor. I recognized the voice by the feel of years and experience that emanated in a dull throb with his broadcast thoughts. This was Manuel Reno, aka Grand Canyon Eyes.
“It has yet been determined if any seats can be filled or if the legacies are indeed legitimate. You overstep yourself, James Lee. Who are you to dictate? I see nothing but a callow boy with no life lessons from the past guiding his steps. Why come to us now when you haven’t bothered prior?”
Manuel was certainly more verbose in the Web than in person, but he still hadn’t bothered to identify himself formally and neither had our other interrogator.
James was quick with his response. “I can and do refer to the past when it is relevant to the present. The Council was founded as a defense against the Warp Faction during the dark years of the Inquisition, was it not? Does it serve that purpose still?”
A fissure of orange tinged steam broke from the garnet orb. “Your disrespectful words only reinforce my assessment of your shoddily run clan, Lee.”
The black hurricane whorls on the yellow, nameless leader shrank as he spoke. “I hear no rancor in Lee’s answer. His point is made, and I ask what it has to do with the original question?”
James contracted his soft green sphere and his glow tripled. “We come with a warning of war.”
Corinne sent a quick information surge to everyone in the group. “Yellow and black is Jadus Skurzewski of the Wolverine Seat from the Deep Ice Clan. Most people call him Ski for short. Ski is known for voting moderate and thinks for himself. I would guess that’s why Reno butted his nose in so quickly.”
I waited for more, but that was all she had to add.
Grand Canyon Eyes scoffed. “We’ve never been in outright war with the Warp Faction. They wouldn’t dare the exposure.”
I decided to speak up. “Is that so? Maybe you can explain to me how an arm of the United States Government already knows about us then? Or, if the Warps are so concerned with exposure, why one of them cut his own throat in a police interrogation room to make a point?” I didn’t mention the Soul Eater. Most Weavers still thought that part of legend and myth. They’d learn soon enough if Laser Eyes had his way.
Ski’s black storm cells began to spin at a hypnotic speed as he boomed over the top of Manuel Reno’s barely begun retort. “Would you share the memory?”
The Council had become a live wire of alarm, panic and curiosity. A lingering animosity hovered in the background and I knew most human beings needed someone to blame. We had to tread carefully not to become the convenient scapegoats for the Council. Humanity loved to point the finger.
Corinne gave the go ahead but whispered down the line, “I’ll do it. I had a better angle from the corner.” She threw up a transparent flickering block of color that solidified into white walls and a ghostly image of th
e tiny LPD interrogation room. Her memory was projected for all to see.
The Soul Eater’s voice ground out his near-bored threat of war again and then his throat split with a touch of his middle finger. His mad cackle and obscene hand gesture were just as disturbing the second time around. After he face planted in a pool of blood, Corinne’s memory closed in on a red splattered Detective Koenig. The shell shocked expression on his face made more of an impression than the Soul Eater’s threat. I was glad she’d left out the bit where Laser Eyes offered Silver and I a place by his side. Now was not the time for sharing that tidbit or the reasons behind it.
Manuel Reno addressed the Council before Corinne’s memory projection had completely faded away. “You see what trouble they will bring? They are chaos! We have not been directly attacked in hundreds of years and now this! If you allow them to join us you are guaranteeing our ruination.”
Ski loomed large over the muddy garnet ember of Reno and spoke in a deadly serious tone. “I am the Speaker and the Bull Seat will take his place with the other Seats or be expelled from this session and any others until I deem fit to relent.”
Nothing in Skurzewski’s statement was idle, he meant everything he said. Reno’s essence stayed silent but as it receded into the crowd a cloud of anticipated violence shrouded him. I watched what colors he gravitated toward and memorized who his allies were. The forest green and orange oval essence on Reno’s right felt familiar and I guessed it to be Jesus Ramon Ballesteros Soto. If Reno was the Bull Seat then Soto must be the Cow Seat.
The black tendril arms of Ski’s whorls expanded to cover every bit of his bright yellow crust as he proclaimed in formal tones, “Are the supplicants welcomed to the folds of the Weaver Council? Will we serve as the light along the way to our brethren, never turning our back to need? Aye or nay—majority rules even if by one. I call the vote and start - aye for Wolverine!”
PHOENIX (The Weaver Series Book 4) Page 12
