Soul of the sentinel, p.29
Soul of the Sentinel, page 29
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Flavia was whispering into her teacup. “I can’t believe the Northern Clans actually let me into the most remarkable library in our world, and I’m going to steal from it. This is insane.” She took a shaky sip, which dribbled down onto her sweater.
“I already told you, you don’t have to do it,” I murmured back. “Give it to me, I’ll carry it out.”
“And I already told you that I’m the expert in handling and transporting ancient documents, thank you very much,” Flavia snapped. “One wrong move and we could damage it beyond repair, and then we’d be in real trouble. I made up my mind, I’m the only one who’s going to be handling it. And then, somehow, I will find a way to put it back where we found it. End of discussion.”
“Wow, I never knew librarians could get so testy,” I muttered. “I thought you were all supposed to be, like, mild-mannered and scholarly.”
Flavia’s face twitched into a momentary smile. “A common misconception. Mess with our collections, and we are a fearsome sight to behold.”
“What’s your weapon of choice, in such a battle?” I asked.
“Devastating wit. And sometimes a book cart. Scared?”
“I’m shaking in my boots,” I assured her. I looked down at my nearly untouched plate of eggs and toast. “Are you about ready to go?”
She nodded, pushing her own plate away with a groan. “Yes. Let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll meet you outside,” I told her. “I’ve got one little detour to take first.”
§
Lucida was curled up on the corner of her bed when I arrived outside her cell, gazing out of her barred window with a vacant expression. When I spoke, I startled her out of her reverie.
“You were right.”
She jumped and stared over at me. It seemed to take a moment for my words to penetrate her consciousness. “Right? About what?”
“About the Tansy Hag. That symbol. It was all over her cell.”
Lucida’s eyes went as round as coins. “You… you never went down there?” she whispered, awestruck.
“Of course, I did. You told me to.”
“I know I did, but I hardly expected you to listen to me,” Lucida admitted.
“Ah, come on, you know me, Lucida,” I said. “I can’t resist the opportunity to make an epically bad decision. You and I are basically soulmates, in that regard.”
“Out with it, then! Were you able to figure out what it means, or…?”
“Not exactly,” I said carefully, unsure of how much I wanted to reveal to her, but still wanting to ease her mind. “She was very… cryptic. But I gleaned a few clues from what she said, and I think I’m on the right track. I have to go back to Fairhaven, though, to figure it out.”
Lucida nodded. “I underestimated you. Again. I ought to know better by now.”
I shrugged. “I never thought I’d be able to trust a single word that came out of your mouth, but here we are. I guess we both have more to learn about each other.”
Lucida’s face twitched into an odd expression. I couldn’t decide whether it was a prelude to laughter or tears. “There was a time I wanted to burn it all to the ground, you know. Burn it all to the ground and dance in the ashes. All I managed was to light my own bloody self on fire. Now I’d just be content to walk away from it all, but…” she gestured around the cell. “Precious little ways I can walk now that I’m here.”
“You never know, you might get released again,” I said, without any real conviction in my voice.
Lucida laughed bitterly. “You never know,” she said. “Look, the point I’m trying to make is, I may have put my matches away, but the Necromancers, they never will. They do not give up. They don’t go away, they just go to ground and regroup and try again. Now, I don’t know what this symbol means, but the Necromancers certainly seem to. And they’re going to weaponize that knowledge if you don’t disarm it first. If you give a damn for the life you’ve built with the Durupinen, you can’t rest a single bloody minute until you figure this out.”
“I know,” I said. “I promise you, I won’t.”
It was such a strange moment, making a promise to this woman, vowing to protect the very thing she was once hellbent on destroying. I was starting to wonder if there were even such black and white things in the world as good and evil, heroes and villains, or if we all just lived and died in a sea of gray, all the good and the bad mixed up together, and doing our best not to drown in it.
She looked up at me. “You off, then?”
“Yeah. The helicopter takes off in about twenty minutes.”
“Right. Well. Best of luck to you.”
“Thanks,” I said. It didn’t seem like the right sentiment to return to her. Who needed good luck to rot away in prison? Luck had already abandoned the situation, let’s be honest. So instead I said, “I’ll let them know. When I’ve got this all figured out, when we come to the end of it, whatever it is—I’ll find a way to let them know that you tried to help.”
Lucida smiled sadly. “Won’t make a bit of difference to any of ‘em. But… tell Cat for me, would you? I want her to know why I’m here, even if there’s not a thing she can do about it.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll make sure she knows.”
“Thanks, mate,” Lucida said.
I wasn’t her mate, that was for damn sure. But I allowed the word to hang in the air between us as I walked away.
§
For all of Flavia’s nervousness, our exit from the príosún was completely uneventful. No one searched our possessions or interrogated us. The Caomhnóir couldn’t have cared less whether we stayed or left, and the other Trackers seemed equally ambivalent. Only one of them returned with us—Elin, who had to file a report on a search of the grounds, and she had barely a word to spare for us. Nevertheless, Flavia clutched her backpack tightly in her lap, white-knuckled with anxiety, until we landed. I was white-knuckled, too, though for entirely different reasons. We were both exceptionally relieved when the helicopter touched down.
Finn walked out of the castle doors as the SUV crunched up the gravel drive. The instant I had closed the door behind me, he caught me up in a fierce embrace and kissed me. I was swept up in the moment, all the more wonderful because he had chosen to greet me in this way while half a dozen Caomhnóir stood looking on disapprovingly.
“Hi,” I said, a little breathlessly as he set me back down.
“Hello, love,” he said. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“So am I, as delightful as Skye Príosún is,” I said. “Where’s Hannah? I really want to show her—”
Finn held up a hand. “There will be time for that. There’s something I need to tell you first.”
“What?” I asked, feeling my anxiety kick back in at once. “What is it?”
“It’s about Savannah,” he said, and the brief flare of warmth at my arrival had settled into a very sober expression. “She’s… well, perhaps I’d better just show you.”
I glanced at Flavia, whose face reflected my fear, and the three of us set off across the lawn toward the castle. I didn’t ask Finn where we were going, or what was happening. Once I knew the answer, I couldn’t unknow it, and a very loud, very insistent voice inside me was already screaming that I didn’t want the burden of this knowledge. My curiosity got the better of me, however, when we passed Savvy’s mentee Frankie, huddled on a stone bench and sobbing unrestrainedly into her hands, her sister bent over her and attempting to soothe her with comforting words.
“Finn, you’re scaring me,” I muttered, jogging a few extra steps so that I was walking right alongside him. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m afraid telling you isn’t going to alleviate your fears at all, love,” he said. “And anyway, here we are.”
We ducked through an ivy-covered archway that opened up into the central courtyard. It was crowded with people, and so all I could see at first was a sea of backs turned to me, as everyone whispered and craned their necks at something in the center of the courtyard. Finn was important enough in the Caomhnóir ranks that the crowd parted for him when it saw him coming, and at last the spectacle that had drawn such a crowd lay revealed before me.
There stood Savvy at attention, clad in her full Caomhnóir attire, unmoving and unblinking, her gaze fixed intently upon the Geatgrima. It was the very same scene as the night I had followed her out to the courtyard—her staff upon her back, the mark of the Tansy Hag drawn in ash upon the dais stone—and yet, it was different.
When we had watched her that night, there had been a hint of a connection between Savvy and the Geatgrima—Milo had described it as “a reaching”—as though the Geatgrima itself was reaching out toward her. Now, the reaching was not only tangible; it was visible. A shimmering glow, like a cloud or a thick, creeping fog, had billowed out and filled the space between Savvy and the Geatgrima. It swirled around Savvy’s head, enveloping her in its iridescence, pulsing and caressing, swirling and elongating into tendrils that wrapped her in an ethereal embrace. It should have been beautiful.
It was not.
“What the hell? When did this happen? How long has she been like this?”
“She came out here and started her vigil in the middle of the night, as usual. But then, when the sun came up, when she normally would have left, she lingered instead and then…” Finn gestured helplessly toward Savvy. “I wasn’t here to see it, but Milo was keeping watch over her, and he saw the whole thing.”
“Where is M—” I began, but saw him floating toward me, around the outside perimeter of the courtyard, skirting the ring of spectators. Hannah and Kiernan hurried along behind him.
“I’m sorry,” Milo said, his face stricken. “I’m so sorry, Jess! I promised I’d watch out for her while you were gone, and I did, every night, but there was nothing I could do!”
“It’s okay, Milo,” I said, and I leaned into him, giving him the closest approximation to a hug that we could muster in his current state. “It’s not your fault. Just tell me what happened.”
“She… well, nothing much, all night long,” Milo said, his form crackling and blinking with the intensity of his emotions. “It was just like every other night, really, until the sun started to come up and, instead of wiping that rune away and leaving, like she usually did, she stayed where she was. And then, right when the sun hit the top of the Geatgrima, she raised her hand toward the Geatgrima, and then that shiny cloud thing blossomed out of it and drifted toward her. Then it touched her hand, and…” Milo broke down into sobs. It took several minutes for him to calm down enough to continue. “It latched onto her, that’s the only way I can describe it. It touched her outstretched hand and made some kind of connection, and then it crept up her arm and surrounded her, just like you see it now. Then Savvy slowly lowered her arm and… and she hasn’t moved since.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I asked, trying not to sound accusatory. “Why didn’t you guys come through the connection to let me know what was going on?”
Hannah reached out and squeezed my hand. “There wasn’t anything you could do, Jess. Freaking out about Savvy wasn’t going to get you here any faster, and we knew that helicopter flight was going to be harrowing enough. We just needed you here in one piece, so we could figure this out.”
I scanned the courtyard. I saw many Council members there, but the High Priestess was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Celeste?” I asked.
“She’s away, meeting with the International High Council,” Hannah said, biting her lip. “It’s my fault she’s not here—the High Council got wind of my proposed changes to the Code of Conduct and asked Celeste to come and testify about it before the vote. I offered to go, but she insisted that the matter would be taken much more seriously if she presented it herself. She left yesterday afternoon. Seamus has already gotten word to her about what’s happened to Savvy, and she’s on her way back, but she hasn’t arrived yet.”
“The Caomhnóir are in absolute upheaval,” Finn said. “The leadership has been at each other’s throats, arguing about how to proceed. Seamus wants to attempt an expelling Casting to try to break the connection, but others fear that it might do more harm than good. Meanwhile, spirits have been flooding the boundaries of the grounds, drawn by—whatever this is that’s happening—and it’s all we can do to keep the courtyard clear of them. Right now, they’re discussing the logistics of cordoning off the courtyard to protect people, but no one wants to leave until they know what’s going on.”
“People are panicking,” Hannah said in a murmur. “Just like they always do when faced with something they don’t understand.”
I looked back at Savvy, and every well of strength in me that had held up and held fast over the last few weeks felt ready to dry up and crumble to dust. What was happening to Savvy? Was she in pain? Was she going to be okay? What happened if the Geatgrima didn’t release its hold on her? What happened if it did? Why did the Geatgrima choose Savvy? And what the hell did it all mean?
I watched her, the girl who dared to give up the life she knew not once, but twice in service to the spirit world, a lone sentinel standing guard in a vigil that none of us could understand.
Or maybe we could. And there was only one way to find out.
“All of you come with me,” I said quietly, tearing my eyes from Savvy and looking to Flavia, who wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded once. “Up to the room, now.”
“I’ll… I’ll see you later then, Hannah,” Kiernan said awkwardly, and turned to leave.
“No, Kiernan, come with us. It would be helpful to have another Caomhnóir. Unless…” I turned to Hannah and locked eyes with her. “We’re going to need help. Do you trust him?”
Hannah did not hesitate even a moment. “Yes, I trust him.” She turned to Kiernan who flushed, but nodded solemnly at her.
“Your trust is not misplaced, I promise you,” he told her.
“Good. If we want to help Savvy, then there’s something I’ve got to do, and I’m going to need as much help as we can get.”
§
Back up in my bedroom, Flavia and I told our story to our captive audience: Finn, his expression stony, Hannah and Milo, full of questions they could hardly contain long enough to let us speak, and Kiernan, who shifted from one foot to the other, looking unsure whether or not he was meant to be included in this gathering at all, but rapt all the same. We described our encounter with the Tansy Hag and our search of the archives. Then Flavia carefully extracted the leather portfolio from her bag and revealed the sketch to a chorus of gasps and sighs. Then she turned the sketch over, revealing the second image on the back.
“That’s definitely the same mark,” Hannah whispered, bending low over the sketch and poring over the details in awe.
“But you don’t have any markings like that,” Milo said, frowning at me. “Are we supposed to be looking for someone else who has tattoos like this?”
“No,” Finn said. I looked up to see that he had made the same realization that I did. “That’s the same kind of temporary artwork that Jeta painted on you in the Traveler camp. I recognize the style.”
“That’s right,” I told him. “The Tansy Hag was a Traveler. She would know all about Rifting. And so, when she told me to “go through the door,” she wasn’t talking about a building or any other physical place. She was telling me to go Rifting to fully understand what’s happening, and this sketch has provided the artwork I need to do it.”
“But I don’t understand,” Milo said, gripping his head on either side and shaking it back and forth, as though he could somehow reorganize his thoughts into a pattern that made sense. “These drawings were made by Agnes Isherwood, right? But how are she and the Tansy Hag connected?”
“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” I admitted. “But the Tansy Hag knew where this sketch was, and she knew I needed it to go Rifting. We have to trust that we’ll find answers if I do.”
“Why do we have to trust that?” Hannah asked, looking worried. “The last time you went Rifting, you had a difficult time coming out of it, didn’t you?”
“I… was in it a little longer than Flavia expected, yeah,” I admitted.
“So why do you want to risk that again?” Hannah asked. “There’s got to be another way to figure this out.”
My bark of incredulous laughter echoed around the room. “Hannah, I love you, and I know you’re just looking out for me, but the time for caution is past. This artwork didn’t survive in secret for hundreds of years for me to find just so I could turn around and ignore it! The Tansy Hag knew me! Agnes Isherwood drew me centuries before I was born! And they both seem to have left an elaborate series of clues to lead me to this moment. Even if nothing else about this clusterfuck of a situation is clear, their instructions for me are. I have to Rift. That’s how we figure this out.”
Hannah opened her mouth, no doubt to argue, but Finn cut her off.
“Flavia,” he said, addressing her for the first time, “You understand more about Rifting than anyone else in this room. What do you think?”
Flavia flushed at being put on the spot, but she cleared her throat and answered in a strong, clear voice. “Rifting is not dangerous. People occasionally dive a bit deeper than others, but that’s no cause for alarm. Jess was able to come out of her trance last year without any lasting negative effects, and the knowledge she gained was crucial to understanding the prophecy she had made. Rifting has always been used by the Travelers to help us more clearly understand what the spirit world was trying to tell us. I can think of no more important moment than the current one for Jess to seek that kind of understanding.”
