The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) (7 page)

Maya rolled her
shoulders, easing her disappointment, and shifted her gaze. The opposite side
of the room held glass cases filled with Director Upton’s personal collection
of antique weapons and memorabilia, including her first sword, Silverthorn,
earned during the Battle of Hastings when the director was very young. Many Daughters
had similar collections, though most put theirs to the uses they’d been created
for. Rebecca had retired her weaponry when she’d fallen in love with her
husband nearly thirty years before, but she still kept her hand in. To do
otherwise would be suicide. Even if
they
hadn’t made an appearance in a
long while, it was never wise to allow one’s defensive skills to wither. No
Daughter worth her salt would be so unwise.

The phone
clicked into its cradle, and the director rose and crossed the room. “Maya. It’s
so good to see you.”

“And you,
Director.” Maya bowed as Rebecca stepped lightly across the wooden floor,
dressed in one of her signature power suits, this one carnelian red paired with
matching heels. Maya preferred the freedom of her loose cargo pants and camp
shirt, but had to admit the director looked lovely in her tailored outfit.

Rebecca perched elegantly
on the settee. “How was your flight?”

Maya dropped
into one of the chairs and crossed an ankle over one knee. “As expected.”

“And Dierdre?”

Maya smiled.
“Also as expected.”

“I saw her a few
days ago. I couldn’t quite resist checking up on her during your absence.”

“I appreciate
that.”

“She’s getting
so tall now.” A wistful note entered the director’s voice. “They do grow up
quickly, don’t they?”

“Much too
quickly,” Maya agreed, and bit back her own nostalgia. Dierdre
had
grown
an inch or so over the past month, and Maya had missed seeing it.

“Down to
business then, so you can get back to your reunion with her. The artifacts’
delivery is on schedule, I take it.”

“Yes, Director.
I spoke with our courier just before leaving Sweden. They should be here
tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good. I’ll rest
better once they’re here.”

“We all will.”

“And the
pictures?”

Maya pulled a
flash drive and a photograph out of a side pocket of her pants and handed both
to the director. “Digital images of all the artifacts are on the thumb drive,
but I thought you’d like a hard copy of this particular one.”

Rebecca laid the
flash drive aside, her eyes riveted to the photograph. “The Eye,” she breathed.
She traced a finger lightly over the glyph captured within the photo. “Surely
the Daughter buried at Sandby borg was of the line of Marnan.”

“We might be
able to know that for certain.”

Rebecca glanced
up. “Oh?”

“The students
finished excavating the skeleton before I left. Her skull was bashed in, by the
way, but her head was turned during the burial so the damage was hidden. It was
probably the blow that killed her.”

“So she might’ve
died in the massacre?”

“It’s possible.
We’ll know more once the artifacts are dated. In the meantime, Dr. Lindberg
hopes we’ll be able to extract DNA from the bones.”

“Will we be
allowed to examine them?”

A spurt of
triumph shot through Maya. “Dr. Lindberg agreed to release the skeleton to us.
I slid it in under the same permit as the artifacts. It’ll arrive by courier
next week.”

Rebecca laughed
and grasped Maya’s hand. “Well done, kaetyrm.”

“I can’t take
all of the credit. Dani’s charm softened the Lindbergs to our cause and Dr.
Terhune spoke on our behalf. The IECS does have a certain reputation.”

“Yes, it does, with
many thanks to people like you. Will Dr. Terhune be joining us?”

Maya shifted in
the chair. She’d managed to put the attractive-but-not-quite-handsome language
expert out of her mind for a few days. “He was undecided when he left Sweden,
but I believe his hesitation will give way once he fully considers the
situation.”

“I’m sure you
sweetened the pot.”

“Of course. He
could be a valuable asset.”

“Agreed. Let me
know what I can do to help.”

Maya nodded. “A
letter from you might go a long way toward convincing him. He knows how
difficult it is to gain access to our archives, though he doesn’t know why.”

Rebecca tapped
the edge of the photograph against her palm. “He wants access? How badly?”

“I don’t know. He
has a pet project he implied would depend on accessing our holdings, but he
never elaborated on it. There simply wasn’t time. But, I believe his wish to
fulfill this personal project is quite strong.”

“Reminding him
of that desire could tip the cards in our favor. I’ll compose a letter to him
as soon as I can, reiterating your offer.”

“Thank you.”
Maya pursed her lips, containing her relief. “I thought it would be harder to
convince you.”

“Am I that
difficult to manipulate?”

Maya’s eyes
widened as a breath wheezed out of her. “I’d never do that, Director.”

Rebecca threw
her head back and laughed. “Oh, Maya. You mustn’t let me tease you so. After
all that time with Dani, and you’re still so literal.” She placed a light hand
on Maya’s arm. “You must promise me you’ll work on that.”

Maya inhaled
deeply, willing her heart to calm. Imagine, the director teasing. What had the
world come to? “I will.”

“I imagine you’d
like to spend some time with your lovely daughter, now that you’re home.” Rebecca
rose gracefully. “I’ve arranged a meeting with the Council of Seven for next
week. They’ll want your full report. I’d like to have a copy ahead of time, if
possible.”

Maya stood. “Of
course, Director. I’ll have it on your desk first thing Monday morning.”

“Make it Tuesday,
and take the weekend for yourself. You’ve earned some rest.”

“Thank you,
Director.”

Rebecca shook
her head. “Always so formal.”

“It sets a good
example,” Maya said with a small smile.

“Go on then.
I’ll see you Tuesday morning and not a moment earlier.

Maya bowed and
left the room, her heart still skittering over the director’s little joke. She
must be mellowing, Maya thought as she made her way out of the building. A
hundred years ago, the slightest hint of someone manipulating her would’ve had
the director reaching for a weapon. Maya shook her head and bounded down the
outside steps. Must be the husband’s influence.

She fell into a
jog and tucked the incident away for another day’s worry. Right then, she
wanted to spend some q.t. with her daughter and catch up on the exact nature of
Dierdre’s relationship with young Johnny Linton.

* * *

After Maya left,
Rebecca resumed her seat behind her desk and lost herself in thought. Shadows
lengthened across the room as the sun slipped behind the surrounding hills,
cloaking the office in a deepening darkness.

She’d propped
the photograph of the armband up against a framed picture of her family. It was
one of her favorite portraits, taken weeks after her son turned five years old
and a mere eight years after she’d surrendered her immortality by trusting
Robert. No, that wasn’t quite right. She’d loved him enough to trust him, and
that had been the key she’d needed to finally break the curse of immortality.

Her gaze
lingered on the portrait. In it, she sat facing her husband with their son
between them and her youngest natural daughter standing behind them. It had
been a happy day, though she’d forgotten exactly why, and they were all
smiling, even Jerusha. Four of her daughters yet lived with the curse, including
her youngest. Rebecca leaned forward and picked up the photograph of the
armband. Would the texts found with this innocuous adornment lead them to a way
to break the curse for all of the Daughters?

There were
rumors that there was a way, always rumors. The Daughters had been chasing them
for millennia. For nearly thirty years, the task of heading that search had
fallen to her. Was there hope at last or were they following yet another dead
end?

“You have found
her.”

The voice
startled Rebecca out of her reverie. She hadn’t heard anyone enter her office.
A figure stepped from the shadows into the light cast by her desk lamp and Rebecca’s
heart skittered and sank. The woman in front of her wore a hooded, knee-length
leather jacket over a plain cotton tank top tucked into jeans, with lineman’s
boots laced up to her knees. Her face was fully hidden behind a mask, save for
eyes as black and cold as midnight. A thin, white scar circled her neck, the
only skin showing on the woman’s entire body.

To the People,
she was the Woman with No Face, an almost mythical figure of doom and death. Most
people, mortals included, believed she was an assassin. Very few saw her and
lived to tell the tale, but she was known widely by the mark she carved into
her victims, a triangle set on one point with a half circle hanging from the
top line. No one knew her true identity. None was brave enough to pursue such
information, though whispered tales found their way into plenty of ears.

Rebecca had met
her once before, in 1939. Fear had etched the incident into her memory with a
clarity few other emotions had the power to convey.

She had never
wished to see the Woman again.

The fear rose,
clogging her throat, stultifying her breath. Rebecca gathered her will and
shoved the emotion aside. “Who have I found?”

The Woman raised
one gloved hand and pointed at the photo of the armband. “Her.”

“Who is she?”

The hand dropped
and the figure stared at Rebecca, eyes unblinking behind the mask.

Silence stretched
between them. After a moment, Rebecca cleared her throat and tried again. “Is
she important?”

“You will see.”

The mask muffled
the Woman’s voice, unnerving Rebecca. She stifled a shudder and trained her gaze
carefully on the assassin. “Why have you come?”

“I bring a
warning, Rebecca of the Blade. Your enemy approaches and is aided from within.
Strengthen your gates and arm the People, for the time draws near.”

“The time for
what?”

The Woman
pointed again to the photo. Rebecca placed it carefully onto her desk and
spread her trembling hands flat against its surface.

The Woman
stepped forward, one step, then two, until she was barely an arm’s length away.
Cold chills broke out along Rebecca’s skin.

“Is the child
well?”

Rebecca searched
her mind frantically for a moment before memory caught. “She’s doing very
well.”

“You named her
for her father.”

A breathy laugh
sputtered out of Rebecca. “I could hardly name her for her mother.”

The Woman nodded.
“You have done well by her. For this, you have my gratitude.”

The sentiment
was so unexpected, it caught Rebecca by surprise. Not knowing what else to say,
she settled for, “Thank you.”

“Her task
approaches. She must complete it without hesitation. The fate of the People
depends upon it.”

“I’ll warn her.”

“No.” The word
snapped through the air between them, hard and flat and terse. “She must do
this on her own. I have foreseen it.”

“As you wish.”

“As the Lady
Goddess wishes,” the Woman corrected.

“Of course.”

The Woman’s
expressionless eyes bore into hers. Rebecca found herself drawn into them. She
leaned forward and, as quickly as a striking cobra, the Woman snatched
Rebecca’s hand into a painful grip, squeezing hard enough to draw an
involuntary gasp from Rebecca. Blackness swam in front of her eyes. Gradually,
a scene appeared, of seven women sitting around a campfire, laughing. They were
replaced by the chaos of battle, the screams of the dying. A woman holding
another who’d been mortally wounded, then pain and more death before the
campfire scene returned. One by one, the women faded into shadow. The Woman let
go and Rebecca collapsed against her desk, her breaths panting audibly out of
her lungs, her vision swimming.

“The One who
Sleeps. Is she well?”

Rebecca drew
herself up by sheer dint of will. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I believe you
call her the Oracle.”

“Oh, yes. Of
course.” Rebecca inhaled a deep, stuttering breath. “She still sleeps.”

“Protect her,
Rebecca of the Blade. She may yet be your salvation, or perhaps your doom. This
I have yet to foresee.”

Rebecca nodded
and swallowed the questions crowding into the back of her mouth. She closed her
eyes and rubbed them, trying to clear her vision.

Find the
traitor, child
,
a voice whispered in her mind.

Rebecca glanced
up, certain she’d imagined the soft words. The Woman with No Face was gone. A
breeze stirred through an open window, wafting the summer night into Rebecca’s
office.