A Matter of Heart (2 page)

“Honestly, Lotus,” Endolff
Strikertree growls. He motions towards the slumbering Faerie. “You want to entrust
my plane to the hands of—”

“Don’t say it,” Astrid
warns. “Kleeshawnall Rushfire has served this Council for nearly two hundred
years. He deserves your respect.”

The man in question snores
again, this time adding a bit of drool to the phlegm in his beard.

Try as he might, Strikertree
can’t hide his disgust as he regards Rushfire. “Lilywhite will be fine. The
Guard assigned to her can walk her through what she needs to do.” His dark eyes
find me; they’re so piercing, I fight the urge to shrink in my seat.

You’re first tier
, a
little voice in my mind whispers. It’s Caleb, an old friend from California who
also happens to be my secret Conscience.
Never show your fear; they’ll eat
you alive if you do.

Challenge accepted. I stare
right back at the Dwarf, hoping he sees a girl ready for anything, even though
I’m quaking in my Uggs.

I can do this, I think.

My attempts must be
successful, because he looks away first. “She’s been under the Guard’s care for
nearly a year anyway.”

Thanks, dude, for reminding
everyone I had to be babysat for my entire senior year of high school back on
the Human plane. Like it isn’t humiliating enough that I’m the youngest person
in the room and they’re debating whether or not I’m seasoned enough to work.

“Graystone will oversee the
mission, despite the terrain,” Strikertree continues. “They have a good enough
working relationship—his presence ought to make her feel more comfortable.”

I try not to roll my eyes
before I search through the crowd. Karl Graystone smirks back at me. I start to
wave but then reflect that a Girl in Charge, sophisticated and ready for
whatever Fate and/or the Council dishes out to her, might not do that with
everyone watching, even if it’s at someone she practically considers her
brother.

Working relationship, indeed.

Astrid tries her best to
argue against me going out and wreaking destruction on my very first Council
mission, but in the end, her voice is amongst the minority.

Great. Just . . . great.

As the meeting ends, the Elf
next to me leans over and grins. “Welcome to the glory that is the Council,
pumpkin.”

My mom appears in the
doorway of my office fifteen minutes later, which shocks the hell out of me.
Never close, we’ve spent the better part of my life treating each other more as
acquaintances than relatives.

She deposits a handful of
envelopes on my desk. “I’m on my way to your dad’s office and thought I’d drop
off some mail that came to the California house.”

Because, you know, checking
in and seeing how your daughter is doing isn’t a good enough reason. I
half-heartedly sift through the envelopes. They’re mostly junk mail, which goes
to show how much attention she paid to them. “Thanks.”

She’s already back at the
door when I call out, “Mom?”

Annoyance flickers across
her face. My heart squeezes painfully in return. “Yes?”

I go for it anyway. “Want to
have dinner tonight? Me and you? It could be a girls’ night.”

She stares at me like I’ve
lost my mind, which, upon reflection, I probably have. I might as well have
asked if we could braid each other’s hair and make pinkie promises while
painting toenails.

Karl appears behind her.
“Hey, Mrs. Lilywhite. How are you?”

She offers him a big smile,
one I’ve never been awarded. “Karl, how many times do I have to tell you to
call me Abigail?” Eww, is she flirting with him? My mother doesn’t flirt. She’s
the Ice Queen. I don’t even think she and my dad ever touch one another. I
often wonder if I was a test tube baby or a possible immaculate conception.

Karl isn’t fooled, though.
Over the last year, he learned firsthand what kind of parent and person my mom
is. He gives her a brief nod of acknowledgement, which leaves her no other
choice than to turn back to me. “I’m sorry, Chloe, but your father and I
already have plans.”

I swallow my disappointment.
Why I’m bummed is beyond me. It’s not like I actually thought she’d say yes.
“Maybe another time, then.”

She leaves without
answering. Karl shuts the door behind her and regards me with what can be best
described as sympathy. People always seem to give me that look when they see me
with one or both of my parents, which royally sucks.

I love the dude, but I don’t
need his sympathy. He knows better. “How is my favorite goddaughter?”

He grins at the thought of
his little girl. “Your
only
goddaughter is perfect.”

When he and his wife Moira
asked me to be Emily’s godmother, I was so excited I screamed. She’s probably
the cutest baby on all the planes, so I don’t doubt his assessment one bit.

“How are you, though?” He
drops into the chair in front of my desk, resembling a giant crammed into a
child’s chair. “You look a bit . . .” He holds his hands out, making a gesture
that normal people probably would never be able to decipher.

I can, though. “Like someone
who just got thrown to the wolves?”

He doesn’t even blink with
my effort to switch subjects away from my mom and back to work, which is what I
assume he’s here for anyway. “Exactly. Talk to me.”

I drop my chin into my
hands, propped up by elbows against my oversized, whitewashed desk. “How soon
did you get to work, once joining the Council?”

His hazel eyes unfocus as he
considers this. “I think it’s a bit different for me, because I was going on
Guard missions nearly the moment I turned eighteen. But to answer what you’re
really asking, it was at least six months before they had me set off any
tremors of significant magnitude.”

Karl is a Quake, one of the
best in all of Magical society. It’s sometimes hard to accept that this man,
who guided me through one of the most difficult years of my life, not to
mention taught me more about what it means to be a Magical than any other
person before him, has been responsible for horrible, destructive events on
nearly every plane of existence. But then, so many of our crafts are
dual-edged; not only can I create nearly anything, including civilizations, but
destroy them as well.

“I’ve reviewed the mission,”
he tells me, all business. “It’s pretty straightforward. We go in, you nuke the
place, we go home.”

I tap a pencil against my
desk. “Is it inhabited?”

Ah. Now he understands my
uneasiness. “No. Not permanently, in any case.”

I do the unthinkable. I ask
him if he knows, for sure, how many people have ever died because of his
quakes.

But he isn’t offended or
even hurt by my question. I knew he wouldn’t be, because Karl Graystone is a
pragmatist. “I don’t know, Chloe. I think it would only serve to drive a person
insane if they kept track of such matters.” He leans forward, the chair
groaning below him. “You can’t tell me that you’d ever want to know.”

My words are automatic. “Of
course not.” But is that true? Could I really handle not knowing if I ended
life? I resent that I even have to ask such questions. I mean, how many other
eighteen-year-olds are in the position to consider whether or not to keep a
kill list? Not many, that’s for sure. Serial killers, maybe, if there actually
are any of the eighteen-year-old variety.

Panic I’d been trying to
hold back all day wells fast and hard. I may have to kill people on my first
mission. The room spins so violently that I grip onto my desk for dear life.

“I’ll be there with you the
entire time,” Karl is saying. His voice is a bit distant. Echo-y.

Breathe, Chloe. Breathe
.

I never am alone, not
really. My Conscience Caleb is here, as he always is, the voice of reason in my
cluttered mind. He is encouraging me even now to count and breathe and not lose
it, because when I do so, when I let go and allow my emotions to rule me, bad
things happen.

Bad things like breaking
bones and fences and staircases and innocent trees.

Breathe
,
Caleb whispers in my mind.

When I blink, Karl comes
back into focus. I force my lips to curve upwards. “I know. And I appreciate
that.”

The chair creaks as he leans
back; it surely wasn’t created to seat men nearly seven feet tall. “Sucks that
Jonah wasn’t here for today’s meeting.”

At the mention of my fiancé,
I let loose a giant sigh. Also a member of the Council, and also recently
required to join at eighteen, Jonah Whitecomb was sent off on a day mission
back on the Human plane earlier this morning. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I
miss him like crazy already and he’s only been gone seven hours.

Karl smirks. “I can only
imagine what he would’ve argued. How much do you want to bet that he’s going to
find a way to come on the mission with us?”

At this, I perk up some.
“You think he can?”

His eyes roll toward the
ceiling. “Chloe, this is Jonah we’re talking about. The dude is one of the two
most powerful Emotionals to ever be born. If there’s anyone who can ensure he
gets his way, it’s Jonah.”

Okay. This makes me feel a
lot better already. If there is any person in the worlds that can always see me
through something, good or bad, it’s my Connection.

I love Jonah Whitecomb so
much it’s ridiculous.

Karl’s fingers drum against
his jeans, which is a good thing, as they could break the chair, weapons as
they are. When he speaks, his words are careful. “You do realize that part of
why Astrid Lotus went to bat for you today is because Jonah wasn’t there to do
it, right?”

Stupidly, I hadn’t really
considered this until just now. I’d just assumed she’d done so because she’s
incredibly kind. But it totally makes sense. Jonah’s mother died when he was
five, and Astrid Lotus has been his surrogate mom ever since. Her sticking up
for me was probably because I’m Jonah’s Connection.

But, Astrid is also Jonah’s
ex-girlfriend’s mom, so there’s also the possibility she might also hate me,
so. . .

Ugh. Why is my life so
messy? Why does it constantly feel like I’m in the middle of a soap opera?

“You’ve got that look where
you’re overthinking things again.”

Yeah. I’m prone to doing
that a lot.

“It was nice she tried,” I
offer. Does Astrid like me, though? I really haven’t interacted with her much
since Jonah and I moved to Annar, but that’s been more my choice than hers, I
think. I was uncomfortable and insecure, especially after what happened a
couple months back between Jonah and Callie, and Jonah knew I needed the space
so he never pushed.

And here Astrid went to bat
for me when my own father didn’t. Now I feel like utter crap.

Breathe, Chloe.

“My dad.” I clear my throat.
Karl is watching me closely. Unfortunately, he’s seen me break down way too
much over the last year. “He didn’t look at me today when all this was going
on. Didn’t even look at me when he said I’d do what I was told.”

Karl snorts. “It only goes
to show he doesn’t know you at all. Like Chloe Lilywhite ever does what she’s
told.”

A genuine smile pushes
itself through the doom and gloom I’ve tried to bury it in. “I listen
sometimes.”

“Listen to this, then. The
Council is never going to baby you. It’s never going to take into consideration
if you have a bad day, or a cold, or if you have too much homework, or your
parents suck. The Council is going to demand things of you that you may never
have even considered in your wildest dreams. There are going to be people who
are against you. But there’re also going to be those of us who will always have
your back.”

Not a lot of people know it,
but, despite his gruff exterior and frequent behavior, Karl has one of the
best, loyal hearts around.

“I’ve got your back, Chloe.
Jonah’s got it, too. So does Moira, and Zthane, and . . .” he pauses, but says
the name I know he’ll say anyway, even though I don’t even know if I want to
hear it, “Kellan, and a whole bunch of other people. You’ll get through this
assignment, and the next one, and the thousands and thousands after that.
You’ve got people who care. Screw your dad. He knows jack about you.”