A Matter of Fate (11 page)

When her eyes open, she lets go of me. For the briefest of moments, confusion flickers across her face. Sadness.

“Is . . . everything okay?” I ask.

But the serene face she’d shown me when I’d first come in is back. “Of course. Now, I see you are quite conflicted about being a Creator. You’re hesitant about that path.”

I let my eyes drop again. “It’s a lot of pressure,” I admit.

“It is,” she agrees. “You have one of the most challenging crafts of all. I would be worried, really, if you were completely at ease with everything.”

I look up, surprised.

“A lot will be asked of you in the coming years. Someday you may be required to do awful, destructive things. A person unbothered by such actions is someone I don’t think I’d like entrusting civilizations with.”

Something in me squeezes painfully. It’s almost alien to have somebody to talk to about this stuff who isn’t so judgmental. “I’ve always been told to just suck it up,” I say quietly. “Like there’s something wrong with me because I’m conflicted.”

Astrid is silent, her lips pursed tightly.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I don’t mean to—”

She holds up a hand. “No. Don’t apologize. And don’t ‘suck it up,’ either. The Council doesn’t need a Creator who bottles everything up and suffers in silence over the course of her craft. What the Council needs, and deserves, is someone who understands the implications of her actions. Who has the mettle to think things out and not act like a mindless drone. You are first tier, Chloe. Magicals of your caliber should never
suck it up
.”

I’m stunned. This is a total one-eighty from what my mother claims.

“These worries, your doubts—they’re there for a reason,” she continues. “They, along with your conscience, will help guide you through your work. There will be many battles you face on the Council. There are always those out there who have agendas, who work in coalitions that may or may not have the planes’ best interests in their hearts. As a Creator, and first tier, you will need to make sure that you’re there for the billions of people we oversee, and not just Magical society. So please know that there is nothing wrong with you for feeling how you do about being a Creator. Embrace those worries. Cultivate those doubts. Let them guide you, allow you to be a moral compass when others might want to head in other directions.”

I’m speechless.

She tents her fingers together, her bracelets clacking together. “Your ties to your parents are very weak. This is troubling. Would you mind telling me what your life at home is like?”

“We, uh, don’t get along well. I mean—I suppose it’s civil, to a degree. But we don’t talk much.”

She frowns.

It’s hard to admit out loud. In fact, it’s downright humiliating. But the little voice urges me to continue with honesty. “They don’t have time for me. I . . . disappoint them. Embarrass them.” I stare down at my hands again. “I don’t know a lot about what it means to be a Magical. They won’t talk to me about it. I’m told I have expectations, which they are shamed I don’t live up to, but they won’t let me know what they are. This trip . . . .” I clear my throat. “It’s the first time I’ve been to Annar. I don’t know even really know what the Council does.”

“Your father is an Intellectual,” Astrid says slowly. “He doesn’t talk to you about the Council?”

I shake my head. Has she met the guy before? Hello!

“Do none of the Magicals in your region talk to you?”

She’s got to be kidding, right? The Cousins are like me—latchkey kids with workaholic parents. This is why we’ve banded together as a family, why we really can only count on one another. “No. The other teenagers nearby and I have pretty much been left to fend for ourselves. We share what we learn with each other, though. And sometimes some of the Gnomes and Faeries living the woods nearby tell us stuff.”

“I am astonished.” She leans back in her chair, shaking her head. The bracelets clack against each other. “Not all Magical parents are like this, Chloe,” she says after a long, uncomfortable pause.

Lucky me, I guess. I feel worse than ever.

“Karl Graystone will be coming to guard you. I advise you to talk to him. Ask him questions. You need to come to Annar prepared, Chloe. The Council needs your wisdom, not your ignorance.”

I nod, wiping at my nose with my sleeve. I’m on the verge of tears.

“Now then,” she says gently. “Shall we talk about other things?”

I feel raw. Exposed. Like someone has been picking at my skin, peering underneath. All I want to do is run and hide. This Seer now knows what I am, of how I’m ignorant, scared. Unloved. But I tell her, “Sure,” anyway.

“Is there something you want to ask me?”

I look up at her, confused.

“There are relationship paths that some Magicals have, special ones. Ones that typically most people want to know about. I’m not sure if you are one of those people, though.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. Magical paths are always about crafts, right?

She bites her lip, glancing briefly at the ceiling, then back at me. “Tell me about your dreams, Chloe.”

“Dreams?”

“As a child. What kind of dreams did you have?”

I blink at her a few times, confused, until it hits me. She knows. Somehow or other, she
knows
. And because she’s been so kind, so nonjudgmental, I tell her. “I dreamed about someone. Since I was three or four. The same person, all my life, until last year.”

Her face is perfectly calm with the exception of one small muscle twitching by her mouth. “Do you mind telling me a little bit about that?”

I tuck my legs under me and pick at the frayed hem of my jeans. “We grew up together. I thought he was a figment of my imagination, someone who loved me when my parents didn’t. Someone who listened, who cared. I know it sounds crazy, but . . . .”

“Not crazy,” Astrid interjects.

“Um, okay,” I say, surprised yet again. “Well, he was my friend. My best friend.” I pause. “I fell in love with him, which was totally bonkers, considering he was in my dreams . . . but it was like I didn’t have a choice.”

She smiles faintly.

Keep going
, the little voice urges.

“And now, he’s at my school,” I whisper. “Since Friday.”

Now her eyebrows lift up. “What?”

“The guy in my dreams. He disappeared a year ago, but on Friday, he showed up in my math class. There were some shifts—”

Astrid says quickly, “Those were yours?”

I let go of the frayed ends, embarrassed. “You felt them here in Annar?”

“I wasn’t in Annar,” she admits after a brief pause. “I live on your plane, as we Elves can blend in if we wish to. And those shifts were particularly . . . strong; I believe much of States felt them.”

Fantastic. As if I wasn’t already embarrassed enough.

She prods softly, “Please continue.”

I take a breath. “And then, it turns out he has a brother. A twin.”

Astrid nods, her lips thinning.

“And . . . I don’t even know how to say this. Explain it. But something happened with
him—
”

“The one from your dreams, or the twin?”

“The twin,” I say, resuming the destruction of my jeans’ hem. “Yesterday. Then, when I got home, my Cousin Cora told me that . . . that the twins are Magicals. And that she surged with the one from my dreams and saw that he . . . he . . . .” I close my eyes, trying so hard not to cry. And Astrid waits for me. Her bracelets don’t even clack. “He’s real,” I finally whisper. “The guy I’ve been in love with my entire life is real. And he’s come for me, and now I’m so confused, because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
Everything
. But something happened with his brother, and I don’t know what to do anymore. Because that felt so real, too. I don’t . . . I don’t know what it means. I don’t know how it’s possible. I mean, I dreamed about him. That’s crazy, right? Dreams aren’t real.”

“Well, dreams are sometimes real.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “In fact, there are Dreamers who work all over the different planes.”

Why don’t I
know
this stuff? Why couldn’t my parents bother to tell me things like this?

“Remember how I said that Magicals sometimes have paths, relationship paths?” I nod and she continues. “It’s very rare, but some Magicals are linked together in a way that allows them to meet early on through their dreams. It appears this has happened to you.”

I go still.

“Everything that happened with him over the years, it’s all real, Chloe. It wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you.”

Sweet validation.

“You have a very strong, very distinctive relationship path. One that is . . . .” She shakes her head, taps her lips with a finger. “Your path is very important but also very . . . conflicted.”

“Conflicted?”

She shakes her head again and stares out the windows. “I have to tread a very fine line here, Chloe. There are a lot of factors that need to be taken into consideration, things that people like me have no business intruding in whether we want to or not.”

Huh?

“You are loved very much. But sometimes love isn’t always . . . .” The bracelets clack again as she shifts. “Gods. I’m doing this badly. I’m sorry, Chloe. I know you want answers. You deserve them. But I don’t think I’m the best person to help you.”

“I . . . I don’t understand . . . .”

“I know,” she says sympathetically. She taps her lip again. “Love can be very complicated. And I’m afraid that this is the case for you.”

“Because I met this guy in my dreams?”

She sighs. “I can’t talk about it anymore, Chloe. I’m sorry. I’m not the person who can help you with this.”

“But . . . you’re a Seer, the lead Seer. If not you, then who . . . ?”

She stands up and comes close, laying a soft hand against my cheek. “You are a dear girl, one I have much hope for. I wish you the best, darling. I truly do. All I can do is urge you to be careful—careful with your heart and of those you love.”

“But—”

“Think about what I’ve said,” she says, helping me off the couch. “I have faith that you will be a good Creator for us.”

“But—”

“As for the other thing, go to your regional Seer, someone who isn’t connected to the Council. Someone who would be there for you, and you alone. Someone who isn’t invested in the outcome, who . . . .” Astrid looks away. “The path you’re on, it’s . . . well, you should ask questions. But the outcome is something only you and those involved can determine.”

“I don’t understand—”

“I know,” she says, walking me to the door. “And I’m truly sorry about that.” She blinks, her eyes glassy.

She has tears in her eyes.

And then she hugs me tightly. She’s warm and smells good, like honey. She feels exactly what I want a mother to feel like. “You are a good girl. A smart girl. No one could ask for someone better, not really. I’m so glad for that. Truly.”

When she lets go, I’m left with more questions than I had before seeing her.

I really should be enjoying the party more—there are hundreds of people, all seemingly having a great time as they mingle, but the room feels empty to me. Lonely even.

I watch my parents at a distance. As always, my mother is cool. Aloof. This is how I’d always assumed all Magicals to be, but at this party, I see differently.

It’s just my mother. She, herself, is dispassionate.

I think about Astrid and how, even when she was confusing and pulling away, she was still caring enough to hug me. Tell me I mattered. That she believed in me.

What I wouldn’t give to have my own mother act like that.

“Wanna talk about it yet?” Cora asks, tugging on my sleeve.

I didn’t tell her about Astrid, other than saying it was a tough interview. I blow out a long breath. “And say what?”

“Start with how you’re feeling about things and we’ll go from there.”

She’s trying
, the little voice says.
Cut her some slack
.

I shove my hair out of my face. “I’m pretty confused right now, Cora.”

“Why confused?” she asks, genuinely puzzled herself. “Because, from my point of view, you’re in a pretty good position right now. You’ve got a gorgeous guy, a Magical no less, madly in love with you.”

She knows this, how?

“Okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I got that from the surge, too. The point I’m trying to make, though, is I don’t see a downside. You. Jonah. In love. Have been for a long time. What’s the problem?”

“Are you serious? Haven’t you been listening?”

She considers this. “Are you talking about his brother? Because that’s no problem at all. Admit it was a mistake and move on. Jonah will understand. Tell him you were confused because they look alike.”

I don’t know why I bother talking to her about anything like this in the first place.

“Excuse me—are you Chloe Lilywhite?” I whirl around and stare up at an exceedingly tall and well-built man who appears to be in his early twenties. He says, clearly amused as I gape up at him, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Who’s asking?”

A hand is stuck out for me to shake. I fear bones are being crushed as he pumps mine up and down. “My name is Karl Graystone. I’m the Guard who’s been assigned to watch over you until you Ascend later in the summer.” He mercifully lets go of my aching hand.

Cora leans forward and introduces herself. Once that’s out of the way, she asks him, “A Guard? Like a bodyguard?”

His hazel eyes peer down at her in suspicion. “You don’t know what the Guard is?”

“Obviously. If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“The Guard is a branch of the Council, comprised of about seventy members of all the different species,” he says, frowning. “In addition to maintaining law and order within our society, it’s both an offensive and defensive team used to protect Magicals and our way of life.”

This gets both of our attentions. I ask, “You mean, you guys do things like fighting? Like the military?”

“I suppose you could see it that way,” Karl says, scratching at his short brown hair. “I guess the military comparison is fair.”

“Why is some military guy assigned to my Cousin?” Cora demands.