Awakening of the Seer (The Gateway Trackers Book 3) Page 6

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I honestly don’t know what I would do if I were sitting in front of her. I don’t trust myself.”

  “You don’t think you could talk to her?”

  “Maybe not without assaulting her, no,” I said truthfully. “Seriously, Fiona, I’m not trying to be funny here. I’ve done a damn good job of putting the Prophecy behind me. I’ve thought a lot about Lucida and what she did and why she did it. And the weird thing is, that I can forgive most of it—or at least understand it. But what she did to Hannah? How she manipulated her and used her like that?” I shuddered with anger. “I’m not sure I trust myself, Fiona.”

  Fiona continued to glare at me, and for a moment, I thought she was going to pick something up and throw it at me, but instead she jerked her head once in a grudging nod and said, “Can’t say that I blame you. Get another Tracker to do it. I dare say they will have questioned her anyway. You might be able to get the answer from whoever interrogated her.”

  I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t realize I was holding. “Yeah. I’ll try that first.”

  “Good. Good. Once we have as much information as we can gather about it, I might be able to tell you what happened here,” Fiona said, tapping the sketches. “In the meantime, I’m going to hold on to them.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling the anxious knot in my gut loosening up. “Thank you, Fiona. I appreciate it, really. It’s been weighing on me these past few days.”

  Fiona grunted in acknowledgement. Suddenly her curmudgeonly expression softened and she hesitated, mouth half-open, as though she were trying to decide whether to say something more. Then she snapped her jaw shut and pointed to the door.

  I was dismissed. I had crossed the room and placed one hand on the doorknob when she called me back.

  “Jess. Wait.”

  I watched her cross the room and wrench open one of the many drawers of an old, paint-splattered apothecary’s chest. She pulled out a small velvet bag, its mouth puckered shut with a drawstring. Then she shuffled over to the door and thrust it at me.

  “This is for you. Happy Christmas.”

  “Huh?” I said, sure I had heard her wrong.

  “I realize I ought to have given it to you yesterday. But I’m shit with remembering things, so there you are,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to—”

  “Oh, bugger it with the formalities, will you?” Fiona snapped angrily. “What do I want with Christmas gifts? Anyway, it’s not the fecking crown jewels for cripe’s sake.”

  “Right,” I said, and pulled open the bag before she yelled at me again. I turned it over and shook it, so that the object inside fell into my cupped hand. It was a silver, oval-shaped locket on a thick, heavy chain. There was a tiny shape etched into the face of it that looked like it might have been a map.

  “It’s your clan’s ancestral territory,” Fiona said, as she watched me stare at it, brow furrowed. “Back before we spread all over the globe, each clan used to lay claim to its own little piece of the world. Those were the lands under the spiritual control of Clan Sassanaigh over a thousand years ago.”

  “Wow,” I whispered, running my fingers over the shape of it. “That’s really cool, Fiona. Thanks a lot.”

  “Open it,” she ordered.

  I did, and gasped. Staring up out of the little frame inside was a tiny, exquisite portrait of my mother. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old.

  “Oh, Fiona,” I breathed, feeling the tears rush to my eyes. I swiped them away, angry at them for obscuring my view of that face I so missed, even though I had never seen it so young and fresh and undamaged by the ravages of life. “Where did you get it?”

  “I painted it,” Fiona said, staring down at her own hands as though the sight of my emotion was unbearably indecent. “Do you remember last week, when we were trying to find out who Eleanora was, and Milo asked if official clan portraits were traditional? Well, they aren’t, but it reminded me that I had this. Your grandmother commissioned it from me while I was still an apprentice here.”

  I tore my gaze from my mother’s face to stare in surprise at Fiona. “You painted this yourself?”

  “That’s right. I wasn’t always the curmudgeonly old artistic purist you see squinting before you. I was young and eager, not above trading on my gifts commercially,” she admitted defensively. “You needn’t look so bloody surprised. I was young once, too.”

  “It was the word ‘eager’ that threw me, actually,” I said, smirking.

  “Well, maybe eager isn’t the right term,” Fiona said, betraying a hint of a rare smile. “Let’s call me ‘grudgingly available’ instead. I desperately needed to make some money, and that was one thing your grandmother had in abundance. She asked me to paint two portraits, one each of your mother and your aunt Karen, to be fitted into a brooch locket. But before I could finish them, your mother disappeared and your grandmother died. Wasn’t sure what I should do with it. Thought about giving it to Karen, but . . .” Fiona shrugged, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought her cheeks reddened just a bit. “She was a good egg, your mum. Not a lot of the girls here bothered much with me, but she always had a kind word. She was the closest thing to a friend I had, apart from my sister, Nan. So, I suppose I wanted to keep it for myself, for a while. But now, I’d like you to have it. You lost a great deal more of her than I ever had to begin with.”

  I swallowed back my tears, mostly because I thought Fiona would find them absurd. “Thank you, Fiona. It really means a lot to me to have this.”

  “Right. Well, off you go then. And I don’t want to see your face up here again until you’ve gotten that information from Lucida.”

  And she slammed the door in my face, though—I thought—with slightly less force than usual.

  5

  Bombshell

  “OH, GOD. Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  “Hannah? Are you okay?”

  I looked over at her as she stood in front of the mirror. She was gaping at her own reflection as though she had no idea who was staring back at her. Her complexion was ashen.

  “Hannah?” I repeated.

  “I can’t do this. I cannot do this,” she whispered.

  “Are you panicking?” I asked her in a calm, gentle voice.

  “Yes,” she squeaked. “Yes, I am one hundred and fifty percent panicking.”

  “And what did you tell me to do if you started panicking?” I intoned.

  “I . . . I don’t remember,” she gasped. “I can’t remember things when I’m panicking.”

  “You told me to slap you across the face as hard as I could,” I said.

  She spun around, frowning at me. “No, I most certainly did not!”

  I smiled at her. “You’re right, you didn’t. But I snapped you right out of that panic, didn’t I?”

  Hannah dropped her face into her hands and groaned. She sank down into the nearest chair. “I can’t do this, Jess. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  I sat down beside her and rubbed her shoulders. The morning of the reopening of the Airechtas was upon us at last, and the delightful distractions of Christmas could no longer shield us from the grim reality of what was to come.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said.

  Her head snapped up and she glared at me. “Yes, I do.”

  “Okay, fine. Yes, you do,” I capitulated. “But you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be right there with you, and so will Milo. Right, oh wise and magnanimous Spirit Guide?”

  I sent this last question zinging through our connection where it met with a glowing warmth and then a laugh. “You know I’ve got your back, sweetness. Oh, and I’m now only answering to ‘wise and magnanimous Spirit Guide,’ so get used to it, girls.” He popped into form at that very moment on the arm of the chair, just to punctuate the announcement.

  There was a sharp knock on the door. Hannah jumped, but I squeezed her shoulder again. “It’s just Finn
, remember? He’s escorting us down.”

  “Oh, right,” Hannah said. Her body relaxed back into the chair, but her face was still tense with anxiety.

  I stopped with my hand on the door. “I’m just going to . . . warn him,” I said over my shoulder to Hannah. “If there is any chance of a negative reaction from the other Durupinen . . . well, you know Finn. He doesn’t like to be taken by surprise.”

  Hannah didn’t even look up. She just nodded her head, staring disconsolately down at her own hands. Milo turned to Hannah and said brightly, “Come on, sweetness, to the mirror. I’m not going to allow you to walk into that room with a blotchy face. One must always stare down the barrel of public ridicule with an even complexion. Jess, we’ll meet you out there in a few minutes.” He marched Hannah into the bathroom and, as he closed the door, he gave me a surreptitious little wink that seemed to say, “You’ve got this, girl.”

  I gave him a tiny smile in return and pulled open the door to see Finn looking down at me, his standard Caomhnóir scowl firmly in place upon his features.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Good morning,” he replied inclining his head in a suggestion of a bow. “I’ve come to escort you all down to the Grand Council Room for this morning’s session, if you are prepared to go.”

  “Thanks, but we’re not quite ready to leave yet,” I said. “I need to talk to you first.”

  Something woke up in Finn’s eyes, and he was looking at me now with real concern. “What is it? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, although I’m sure you won’t agree with me,” I said. I looked up and down the corridor, which was deserted, and pulled Finn across the hallway where a large tapestry of a hunting scene concealed a windowed alcove. I shoved the tapestry aside and he followed me behind it, so that we were masked from anyone who might pass by.

  “Jess, you’re scaring me. What is it?” Finn whispered urgently.

  I looked up into his face and suddenly couldn’t find my nerve. I couldn’t tell him. I just couldn’t do it.

  “Jess, answer me!”

  “I’m trying!” I hissed back. “I just . . . I don’t know how to tell you this, but I have to. We’re about to head down into that meeting and you’re going to find out anyway.”

  Then, to my utter surprise, Finn’s expression cleared. He actually smiled in his relief. He reached out a hand and placed it gently on my cheek.

  “It’s okay, Jess. I already know what you’re going to say.”

  “No, you really don’t,” I muttered.

  “I promise you, I do.” And then, stunning me still further, he stepped in to me and kissed me right on the lips.

  Desire wiped what little of my thoughts hadn’t already been erased by surprise. For a moment, all I could do was stand there, lost in the unexpected bliss of a kiss I wasn’t sure I’d ever experience again. But then, slowly, reality seeped back in and I pulled away, breathless.

  “I . . . you don’t . . . I didn’t deserve that,” I said.

  He smiled again. “Of course, you do.”

  I thrust a hand out between us, keeping him at arm’s length. “Trust me, you are going to want to take that kiss back when you hear what I’ve got to tell you. And I won’t be able to get the words out if you keep distracting me with . . . you.”

  Finn took hold of my hand now pressed against his chest and squeezed it. “If it’s about the Council seat, Jess, I already know.”

  My mouth fell open. “I . . . you . . . what do you mean, you already know? What do you already know?”

  “I know that Hannah is going to accept Finvarra’s nomination on behalf of Clan Sassanaigh this morning,” he said.

  I pulled my hand back from him, waiting for the explosion, but his face was completely impassive. It was unnerving.

  “You know,” I repeated, more to let the information sink into my own brain than for him to confirm it.

  “I know,” he replied, still the picture of calm.

  “How did you find out?” I asked.

  “Bertie,” Finn said, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a trace of a smile. “He stopped by your room on Christmas evening looking for Savannah and he heard Karen shouting about it. Naturally, he hastened right off to tell me. He seemed to think I should be prepared for a volley of attacks on your person from the other Durupinen and wanted to volunteer to be my second in case of violence.”

  “Your second?” I snorted. “As in, like, a duel?”

  “That would be correct,” Finn said. “Bertie’s general perception of being a Caomhnóir is equal parts swashbuckling fantasy and fleeing in terror. I’m not quite sure how he’s made it this far without Savannah simply knocking his block off.”

  “Neither am I, but I’m fairly confident that’s how he’ll meet his end,” I said. “So, you’ve known for almost two days?”

  “Yes,” Finn replied.

  “You don’t seem . . . angry,” I said tentatively.

  “I’m not,” he said, and there was no anger in his voice, repressed or otherwise. “I must admit, I am confused, though. I’m trying to understand why you didn’t tell me yourself.”

  “I was trying to,” I said. “And not just now. I tried to tell you on Christmas, too, when I brought you your gift. And at least half a dozen times before that. I just kept losing my nerve.”

  “Why? Were you just trying to avoid a row?” Finn asked.

  I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t that, exactly. The thing is that we never actually resolved the last row, and I was afraid that it would be that last straw, you know? Everything has been so strained, so stressful since we’ve been here. We’re under so much more pressure to hide, and the fear that we’ll be discovered is palpable all the time. And then we had that awful fight. I was just scared, Finn. I was terrified that this,” and I gestured at the space between us as though it were a living, breathing thing, “wouldn’t be able to survive it.”

  “Perhaps it wouldn’t, if it were stretched so thin, so far as that,” Finn said. Then he reached across that space and pulled me in against him. “But here. Together. Like this we are so much stronger,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. He gestured now at the inch of space between us. “Nothing you could tell me could break us when we’re here, like this.”

  I leaned my head forward, pressing my forehead to his neck. I felt the warmth of his breath in my hair, and his kiss on the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry you found out from someone other than me. It wasn’t fair to you.”

  “I forgive you,” Finn said. “And in turn, will you forgive me?”

  I raised my head and looked up into his face, frowning. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “That’s not true. I let my own fears widen the space between us, too. I’ve pulled away from you while we’ve been here. I told myself it was to protect you, but it was selfish. I was protecting myself, putting my walls back up. I guess we’re both good at that.”

  “Yeah, we are,” I said. “My two attempts at relationships include a ghost and a guy I’m forbidden by ancient law to get involved with. It’s almost as though I want to fail, isn’t it?”

  “Self-sabotage, definitely,” Finn said with a smirk. “But at least you’ve moved from spirit to living person. That is definitely a step in the right direction.”

  “I’m still trying to understand why you aren’t mad at me,” I said. “I’m making things so much more complicated for us. The more time we’re at Fairhaven, the more time we’ll have to spend hiding, and the more chances someone will figure us out.”

  Finn shook his head. “Hannah winning the Council seat—if she can manage it—doesn’t mean we have to be at Fairhaven all the time. We’ll need to be nearby, certainly, but it’s not as though we’ll be moving back into the castle. Many of the Council members have lives and jobs outside of these walls. Catriona is only here between Tracker missions, for example.” Finn paused, laughing at the stunned look on my face. “Didn’t you realize you wouldn
’t have to live here in the castle?”

  “I . . . should have. But I didn’t,” I said, a smile dawning on my face, but fading almost as quickly. “It will be nice to have a little bit of space, but it doesn’t really solve our problem, does it?”

  “That’s true. But I’ve been thinking quite a lot about what you were saying before, about looking to have the law repealed,” Finn said slowly.

  I stared at him. “You completely shot down that idea when I brought it up. And you were right. It would be much too obvious if I stood up and pushed that agenda, especially given what Seamus already knows. What’s changed?”

  “I know I said it was too risky, but maybe, with Hannah on the Council, there might be a way to propose the change without giving ourselves away,” Finn said.

  I felt my heart lift. “Really? How?”

  “Well it won’t be you, for a start. And she would have leverage as a Council member. Their proposals are always considered thoroughly. She may even be able to find another member or two to co-sponsor the proposal. I think it’s the best shot we have, if Hannah is willing to put herself out there on the issue.”

  “I’m sure she would, but we’ll have to come clean with her first,” I said.

  “Yes, we certainly will,” Finn said, and his brows contracted. “Do you think she’ll be angry when she finds out?”

  “I think she already knows.”

  Finn stepped back, looking shocked. “She does? But how—”

  “Okay, well maybe she doesn’t know, but I’m sure she must suspect it. Finn, I know all you Caomhnóir think you’re James Bond, but we’re not nearly as stealthy as we think we are,” I said. “Milo figured it out ages ago. There’s just no way we could all live in such close proximity to each other and keep this a secret.”

  Finn sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is true. But you will need to tell Hannah anyway, just to confirm it.”

  “Yes. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes, indeed. I daresay it will be a relief to have someone we don’t have to hide from,” Finn said.