ARC: The Seers (16 page)

He continued to speak but my ears went numb the moment I realized that his voice was getting louder. They were headed for the door. Panic clawed my back as my eyes darted around me looking for a place to hide. I couldn’t let them find me – not after what they would know I heard – but there was nowhere to go. My only option was to bolt back down the hall and pray I made it to the first turn before they looked in my direction.

Without another thought, I backed out of the cover of the doorframe, preparing to run as fast as I could, but instead felt my heart stop as I bumped into the chest of someone who’d been poised directly behind me. I turned to see Bastian, his face like stone as he looked down at me while at the same moment I heard a hand grasp the handle of the open door. Before I could conjure a coherent thought, Bastian grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face the door. His arm like a steel beam, he locked me against his chest while his free hand came up to cover my mouth and nose. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t even breathe. All I could do was watch as the door swung open, and then…

…everything went black.

CHAPTER 16

It all happened in the timespan of a blink; the world around me went black, there was the sensation of falling, then suddenly the darkness burst to life again, only now I was now looking at a wall in what appeared to be one of the manor’s guest suites. As I tried to remember how to breathe, I felt Bastian slowly release me. “Easy,” he cautioned quietly, as his arms opened, his hands spread wide as though to keep me calm.

I tried to speak but I couldn’t seem to coordinate my brain with my mouth. What the hell just happened? Where were we? Were we alone? Should I run? How did… we…

“Whoa,” Bastian said, quickly grabbing me as my legs gave out. “That’s why I said easy,” he chuckled as he lowered me into an armchair a few feet away. Luckily for him I was still too close to passing out to mind that he found any of this amusing. “Deep breaths,” he said before stepping away, returning a moment later with a glass of water. “Here.” He handed me the glass then took a seat in the chair next to me, looking oddly relaxed. “Sorry, under normal circumstances I would have warned you, but there wasn’t time. Though for future reference, if you close your eyes you won’t get dizzy.”

I emptied the glass in three gulps, allowing the cold water to ease the hot tingling in the front of my forehead. Once I was sure I could raise my head without getting queasy, I looked up at him, hoping my death grip on the glass would hide the fact that my hands were shaking.

“Better?” he asked.

I stared at him blankly. “That’s something of a loaded question.”

He huffed a laugh, though oddly enough, there didn’t seem to be any arrogance or derision lurking under the sound. He still gave off a cocky sort of air, but now instead of haughty and off-putting, it was almost playful. “I suppose it is, but that’s why I brought you here; I think we need to talk.”

“I’d say so,” I agreed, not nearly as calm as he clearly was. “And we can start with you telling me what the hell you just did to me.”

“If memory serves,” he smirked, “I believe I saved you from being discovered as probably one of the clumsiest spies in history.”

“OK, first off I was doing fine until you showed up, and secondly, you know that’s not what I was talking about. Where are we and how did we get here?”

“A,” he began counting on his fingers, “you were
not
doing fine. You were seconds away from being seen, and I can assure you that would not have ended well. Cleen and McGary are not the sort of men who would take kindly to being followed and eavesdropped on, particularly by one of the subjects of the conversation. And B, we are in my room. I ported us here after you nearly got us caught.”

“Ported…” That’s right. I’d forgotten he was a Porter. Well if that was porting, it was pretty cool – if not borderline vomit-inducing. Too bad now was not the time to dwell on it. “What do you mean got ‘us’ caught? I was following you. What were you doing over there if you weren’t with them?”

“The same thing you were, trying to hear what they were saying. I was just doing a better job of it.”

“I guess I’m just not as practiced at spying on people as you are,” I challenged, crossing my arms and waiting for the denials to begin.

He looked long and hard a me for a moment before letting out a long breath. “Yes,” he said, “you’re probably right.”

I froze for a second, totally thrown. “Right about what?”

He paused again, holding my gaze long and hard before speaking. “All of it,” he finally said. “The spying, Pennsylvania… everything.”

I stood there motionless, staring at him, trying to figure out what in God’s name was going on. I’d expected the moment when he finally broke down and admitted I’d been right about him to feel satisfying and triumphant, but this wasn’t right. He’d been fighting me tooth and nail since we’d met, hitting me with nothing but denials and excuses every time the subject came up, yet now, out of nowhere I was supposed to buy that he was ready to come clean? Yeah right.

“You are so full of it,” I said, in no mood for whatever game he was playing.

“What?” Obviously not the response he’d expected.

“I don’t buy it. And if you think you can play me by telling me what you think I want to hear, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Hold on,” he said, his face both amused and annoyed, “you have been harping on at me for two days to come clean, and now that I do, you don’t believe me?”

“It’s too easy. You’re up to something.”

“You can’t just make this easy, can you?” He rubbed a hand over his face, more annoyed than amused now. “I did just save you when I could have left you to hang, doesn’t that at least earn me the benefit of the doubt? Just listen to what I have to say.”

“Listen?” I snarled, as the fragile hold I had on my temper snapped like a frozen twig. “No. No, I won’t listen. Why the hell should I? So you can spout more lies, or pacify me with whatever you think I want to hear? Well, you can stuff it.”

I stood, and turned toward the door, but Bastian caught my arm before I could storm off. “Becca, please–”

“No!” I pulled my arm free. “I’m done with you; I’m done with all of you! You are absolutely the worst kind of people and I am through playing your games. You all think you can hold yourselves above everyone else when the truth is you don’t even deserve the abilities that you think make you so great. And now you, who have done nothing but treat me like an idiot from the moment we met, have the audacity to act like
I
owe
you
something – are you out of your mind? But then why would I expect special treatment when you treat even your own brother like trash? But then I guess he deserves it,” I laughed once without humor. “After all, the way he is, he’s barely worthy to do your laundry, much less share your blood, isn’t that right?”

Bastian had stood quietly while I ranted, never once interrupting me with even so much as a sideways glance. However, the moment I mentioned Steven, a fierce and strangely familiar fire lit under his eyes, and I knew I’d struck a chord.

“Steven,” he said, taking a slow step toward me, “is the best man that I know, and I am
proud
” – his intensity almost turning the word into a growl – “to call him my brother.”

I tried not to shrink back under his glare. “Certainly didn’t seem that way this morning.”

“That’s because you don’t understand how things work here. You think that defending someone means confrontation. That crossing your arms and stomping your foot is the only way to stand up against wrong. That may have been how it worked for you back home, but here, yelling and screaming will get you nowhere. They,” he pointed angrily out toward the hall, “are in charge here, and if you want any chance of winning in their game then you must play by their rules. It might not make any sense to you, but I do what I do because I am the only thing that stands between them,” he pointed again and I was shocked to hear the unveiled loathing slicing though his tone, “and my brother. And I am not going to do
anything
to jeopardize that.”

I looked up at him, trying my hardest to see any trace of deceit or manipulation on his face, but deep down I know that I wouldn’t find any. If there was one thing I knew, it was the look of someone whose only concern was protecting their brother. I used to see it every day in the mirror, and now it was staring back at me again, but this time through the eyes of another. I might not have understood everything he’d told me, but what I did know was that for the first time since we’d met, he was being honest.

“You know,” I sighed, “that’s the first thing you’ve said that I actually believe.”

“I’m glad,” he said, still serious, but no longer severe. “Does that mean you’re willing to hear me out?”

“Yes,” I nodded once, my eyes still locked on his. “But it better be good.”

With a satisfied breath, he finally broke our stare-off, glancing down as he began slowly pacing around the center of the room. As he gathered his thoughts, I retook my seat in the chair I’d occupied earlier and waited patiently – albeit skeptically – for him to begin.

“Steven and I grew up like all other Bhunaidh children. Private schools, private tutors, private lives. We had no friends outside of other Bhunaidh children until we began attending school, and even then we were instructed to keep to our own kind as much as possible. We were tutored rigorously in the Bhunaidh histories, customs, and ways, always accepting everything that was taught to us without question or complaint, all in anticipation of the day our Awakenings would occur. The Awakening of a Bhunaidh child is more than simply the day his or her ability appears, it also marks their induction into Bhunaidh society. Finally being accepted into the ‘proud and ancient majesty’” – he rolled his eyes – “of the Bhunaidh fold was everything we were taught to want, and as children it was all we could think about.”

He stopped for a moment, leaning against the enormous four-poster bed, bracing his hands on the footboard as ripples of a deeply harbored anger began to seethe under his skin.

“I was fourteen when my Awakening occurred,” he continued, his grip on the bed becoming rigid. “As we were twins, everyone expected Steven to follow closely behind me, and when he didn’t, my parents became impatient. They arranged for him to be awakened manually by an Alchemist, which is when we discovered that there would in fact be no Awakening because there was no ability. I was sad for him of course as I knew better than anyone how disappointed he was, but I was sure that both he and my parents would come to accept it, and that eventually everything would be fine.” He laughed, though the sound was dark. “And the fact that I actually believed that just shows how blind I truly was. Up until that point, I had spent my life believing that the fundamental lesson in all the Bhunaidh teachings was the importance of family – that that was what we held most sacred. What I didn’t realize was that family and lineage are not one and the same, and that it can be very easy to mistake someone loving
who
you are, for simply loving
what
you are.”

He stopped, taking several breaths as he stared at the floor while I fought back the sympathy I felt trying to claw its way out of my chest. No, damn it! I would not feel sorry for him. At least not until I could determine if all this was true, or if he just knew that a story about a helpless brother would be the best way to win me over. Though, skeptical as I may have been, I couldn’t help but notice that something was different about him – something more than just his lack of obnoxious ego. There was a realness about him that I hadn’t seen before. An emotional undercurrent to his words that ran deeper than the shallow surface façade he’d worn throughout our past conversations. Something that was strong as it was vulnerable, and definitely couldn’t be faked.

“Suddenly,” he began again, the strain in his jaw making his cheeks quiver, “the world didn’t look at Steven as my brother anymore. As far as they were concerned, he was just this thing that followed us everywhere, fouling the air with his tainted blood and burdening my parents with his presence. Parents who never once tried to defend him or stand by him, but instead bemoaned their ‘great misfortune.’ Parents who, instead of accepting their child for who he was, accepted condolences from their friends who couldn’t believe that such a horrible fate had befallen them.
Parents
,” he spat the word, “who expected me to behave as they did, shunning my best friend – their
son
– for no reason at all.”

He stopped again, this time for so long that I wondered if he was done. “I appreciate you telling me this,” I said sincerely, not wanting to belittle what he’d shared. “Really I do. And to be honest, I understand far better than you know, but this isn’t exactly helping with my overall confusion.” In fact, I’d say it had more than doubled since the start of our conversation.

He nodded with what might have been a smile and came back over to sit in the second armchair. “Bear with me,” he said, “we’re getting there.” He paused again quickly before beginning again, his emotions back under control. “Of course I refused to go along with everyone’s sudden intolerance of Steven, instead turning my back on my parents and all the rest of the people I could no longer put up with, and putting all my energy into finding a way to help him.”

“If things were so bad, why didn’t the two of you just leave?”

“We… were going to,” he told me, shifting uncomfortably. “That was my first plan. We would do what we had to until we turned sixteen and had full access to our financial accounts, then we would leave and start new elsewhere. However,” he hesitated, looking away, “matters changed and we realized that would not work as we’d hoped.”

“What happened?”

“There were complications.” He said it casually, but there was nothing casual about the way his hands fidgeted in his lap. Before I could question further, he moved on. “After that,” he continued quickly, “I floundered a bit, not sure what to do. Actually,” he smiled, raising an eyebrow at me, “I became quite a bit like you. Standing up to the ones who shunned Steven, convinced that if I was strong and didn’t back down that eventually I would be able to change their minds. But I was fooling myself. There is no changing the minds of people who refuse to listen, and for all my efforts I only seemed to make the matter worse. Finally, I became so desperate that” – he bowed his head as though he were ashamed – “I decided to seek the help of Darragh.”

My eyes popped open. “You what? Please tell me you’re kidding…”

He shook his head. “I’m not proud of it, but at the time there didn’t seem to be any other way.”

“What did you think he could do?”

“Show me the process of taking and assuming abilities from others.”

“You wanted to give Steven someone else’s ability? You do know that involves killing the Holder you take it from, right?”

“I did know that Darragh killed for his abilities, but that didn’t necessarily mean that was the only way it could be done. Maybe there was a way to harmlessly take the ability of a Holder who was about to die of natural causes, or perhaps take small bits of power from several Holders with the same ability and combine them, I don’t know. It was totally and utterly stupid, I know that now, and honestly a large part of me knew it then, but again, I was desperate. My brother’s life was disintegrating and I refused to do nothing but stand by and watch, but I swear to you, I only ever intended to learn the process so that I could try to adapt it. I would never have killed anyone.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said, “though I think there may have been a better chance of Darragh killing you.”