The Breaker's Promise (YA Urban Fantasy) (Fixed Points Book 2) (15 page)

“Because it was hidden along with the picture. I figured it had something to do with it,” I lied. Folding the letter back up, I stuffed it into my pocket. “We should ask about Mother’s man. What was his name; Renner? Maybe people know about him. Maybe he’s here.”

“We can’t be too obvious about it though. People in the Hourglass are pretty open about things unless there’s a damn good reason not to be. The fact that I’ve never heard of any Renner leads me to believe that there’s more to his connection to Dahlia than simple friendship or attraction. So, going around asking questions could warrant us some unwanted attention.”

“Which is the last thing we need right now. I just- I can’t figure any of this out,” I said, putting my head in my hand.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Babe,” Owen said, squeezing my hand again. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

“Is that a Breaker’s promise?” I asked through my fingers.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” he said, and kissed my cheek. It felt good, resting beside Owen; feeling the steady up and down of his chest, the rapid beat of his heart. I wanted him; all of him, forever. Even now, with everything about my life spinning and up in the air, I had never been more sure about anything.

He pulled away from me quickly. I keeled over as he straightened up beside me on the bench. It took me a second to realize what had happened, but once I heard the clip clap of feet return, I knew what was up.

The old woman returned to the doorway. Her face was hard and expressionless. “You,” she pointed to Owen. “The Crone is ready for you, Dragon.”

He looked at me, bristling just enough for me to notice. He thought I hated it; when people called him the Dragon. But the truth was, no matter what anybody called him, he was just Owen to me; he was just mine.

“See you at home,” he muttered, and stood to meet the woman.

“Kay,” I answered, and watched him leave. I slumped in the bench once I was alone. Of course, I would be the last one seen. Could it have gone down any other way? I did not want to be alone with my thoughts right now. I wanted a distraction, someone to talk to, and someone to keep my mind occupied. But here I was, all alone with nothing to do and no one to steady me.

“Someone’s feeling sorry for herself.”

The voice literally turned my stomach. Of course it was her. Of course she’d pick now to return. “Hello Merrin,” I said, looking over at the apparition beside me. She was still dressed in the same outfit she wore the day she went into her coma. Her hair was still pinned back and unmoving. Her expression was a mixture of pain and smug satisfaction. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“I don’t think you necessarily understand the concept of ‘trapped in your mind’,” she scoffed. “I’m stuck here; whether you see me or not, whether you hear me or not. I’m always in here. And believe me, it’s torturous.”

“I don’t have the energy for you right now,” I sighed.

“Imagine that; you’re tired. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m comatose, and it’s your fault,” she sneered.

“How could I forget when you’re so diligent about reminding me?” I answered.

“Would you like to know the worst part about being in your mind, Cresta? It’s being subject to your ridiculous thoughts,” she leaned closer. “Even after all this, even after all the senseless death, you still believe there’s a chance to make it out of this. It’s like you’re purposely trying to not understand.”

“What would you have me do, Merrin?” I asked. “Should I lay down and die for you people?”

“Yes,” she answered. “For the sake of the world, for the sake of the centuries of work our people have put into it, you should.”

“And what about all the work my family has put into it?! What about everything my mom gave up keeping me safe? I would never dishonor her by giving up.”

“This is all about that place she told you about,” Merrin scoffed. My teeth clenched. No one knew what my mom told me before she died. No one knew about the place or the people who Mom said would be on my side. But Merrin was in my head now, and she knew what wasn’t hers to know. “Your mother was lying to you Cresta. Either that or she had a death wish. No one can get past the Council. If that little group your mother spoke about actually has managed to evade us for this long, the minute they reach out to you; the instant they throw their hand into this world’s endgame, the Council will chop them down like the poisonous vines they are.”

“It won’t get that far,” I said, clenching my eyes tightly and hoping against hope that, when I opened them, Merrin would be gone.  “I’m not gonna be what you think I am. There will be no end of the world, because I won’t end it.

She chuckled. “Even you don’t believe that. That’s why you haven’t slept with him.”

My eyes shot open. My head darted in astral Merrin’s direction. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t be shy,” she grinned. “I promise, you have no secrets from me.” Her eyes widened and glinted with something fierce. “You haven’t given in to your disgusting base desires for Owen because you know, sooner or later, you’re going to have to leave him. Sure, the two of you can pretend that you’re going to have this idyllic future. You can talk about Vermont and forever, but deep down, where you live, where I live now, you know the truth. Fate will pull you apart. It will put you on different sides of things, and it will make you being together an impossibility. That’s why you haven’t slept with him; because you know that, once you do, giving him up will hurt too much.”

I didn’t remember standing, but I must have, because I was looking down at Merrin now; my hands clenched into tight little fists. “We’ll leave,” I answered. “As soon as you wake up and spill all those secrets in your mind to the Council, we’re going to get out of here. We’ll find those people Mom talked about, and we’ll be happy.”

“And what if I don’t wake up?” She asked. More blipping than actually moving, Merrin stood to meet me. “You’ve spent all this time crafting a contingency plan in your mind about what would happen if the Council finds out the truth about you, but what if they don’t? What if I never wake up? Would Owen really leave this place; leave his family and his brother again if it wasn’t absolutely necessary?” She laughed loud and hearty. “He’d stay, and you know it. He’d stay shackled to me until my pathetic body finally gave up, and then the Council would find him another, decidedly less perfect, perfect. And they’d find someone for you too, Cresta. You’d live your life here, close enough to touch Owen but never able to. You’d watch him have children with someone else, grow old with someone else, and learn to love someone else; because that’s the way it works. This is the world he knows, Cresta. And, whether you’re in it or not, a part of him always will be.”

“You’re lying,” I said. “You just want me to give up. You want to think things are hopeless.”

“If I wanted you to think things were hopeless, I’d remind you that Flora knows your secret; which means Allister Leehman’s people know your secret; which means, even now, they’re very likely gathering their forces and preparing to strike. Because if you’re the Bloodmoon, Cresta, it means that he could also be the Raven.” She gave me an infuriating wink. “You have too many people after you Cresta. One way or another, someone will get to you.”

At the end of the hall, the clip clap of the old woman’s boots returned.

Merrin looked down the hall, and back at me. “I guess this is your cue. Do try to relax in there,” she said, and vanished in front of my eyes.

The old woman appeared in the doorway almost instantly. Somehow, she even droopier than before, hunched over as she beckoned for me. “You. She will see you now.”

If her representative was this old and decrepit, I could only imagine what sort of dust bag the crone herself would be. I stood slowly, examining the empty space beside me where Merrin sat; though sat wasn’t exactly the right word for what she did. Technically, Merrin was lying in a hospital bed somewhere, and absolutely not capable of sitting anywhere at the moment.

“Is there a problem, and if so, could you leave it where you stand?” The old woman arched her silvery brows, making her face inexplicably more crinkled.

“No,” I muttered, and walked toward her. She spun around, moving down the large hallway so fluidly that it looked as though she was floating rather than walking. The hallways itself seemed to spin out into forever, stretching as far as I could see. The walls were stone and etched with symbols that must have been anchors that I didn’t understand. There were portraits too; faces carved in the stone. A painful flash from the past shot through me as I realized what the faces symbolized. Like Wendy’s gravestone back in Weathersby, these were the faces of past seers; all nameless, all probably forgotten outside the halls of this place.

“Wait a sec,” I said, looking around. “This place is a shack. How does this entire hall fit in here?”

The old woman didn’t answer me; of course, that might have been because, by this point, she had float/walked way out in front of me. I sprinted; trying to catch up when I (finally) caught saw a door. It was large, red, and covered with the same weird markings all over the rest of the hall. I shuddered. Mom had always warned me against red doors. She said evil lurked behind them. The door swung open as the old woman approached. She turned back at me, beckoned for me with a long wrinkled finger, and then disappeared into the darkness on the other side.

As soon as I walked through the doorway, everything shifted. The darkness was not darkness anymore. In fact, the room was so bright and vibrant that I had to squint. Looking back, I saw that the long endless hallway was actually just a short alleyway; ten feet at most.

“Stupid shade,” I muttered under my breath. The room was large. Though, given the experience I just had, maybe it just looked big. For all I knew I was standing in one of those plastic kiddie pools in my underwear with people pointing and laughing at me. That’s what the Breakers did. They messed with perception. Though, to be fair, I didn’t sense any shade around.

The stone seemed to glow as it streaked across the floor and up the walls. More faces, more seers, adorned the bricks. This was a memorial and it was giving me the creeps. The old woman stood to the left of a huge golden chair that sat at the top of a run of stone steps. Another woman, even older (if that was possible) stood to the right.

As my eyes scanned up the steps and to the chair, or more aptly, the throne, my mind raced. The crone would be old. She would be serious and dry and scary and without pity, mercy, or humor. This would not be a pleasant experience. I should have known better than to subject myself to this; another old woman telling me how awful I was and how much trouble I was going to cause.

When my eyes settled on the subject sitting on the throne though, it took me aback. She wasn’t old. In fact, she wasn’t much older than me. Twenty five, twenty seven at most, she had big brown doe eyes, warm red cheeks, and a set of legs that made me so jealous that I instinctively bit my tongue. This wasn’t a crone. This was a woman so gorgeous that she made Merrin look like some hairy lunch lady.

She had a book in her hand. No; not a book, it was a magazine. Seventeen magazine. She looked up at me. Her face spread into a red painted smile and her eyes got huge.

“Hey there!” She chirped. Then, closing the magazine, said. “Can I just say, before we start, that I already hate you? Cause I am, like, so jealous of your hair.”

Well, that was unexpected. The world’s most uncronelike crone hopped down from her golden throne with the smiling grace of a manic pixie.

There’s thought I never figured I’d have.

The old women on either side of her were much more fitting to the title of crones, if you ask me, seemed unaffected by her liveliness. They stood, unmoving, seemingly unblinking, as the crone made her way to me.

“Cresta Karr. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you. I probably don’t have to tell you this, but you’re sorta trending number one around here lately.” She tilted her head to the right, her eyes scanning me up and down. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Just cute enough not to be threatening. I bet the boys just lose their minds whenever you come around.” She gave me a grin. “And if they don’t, they’re about to.”

Instinctively, my walls went up. I had been around enough Breakers at this point to know that most of them have their own motives. Sure, this place was supposedly private, and the things I said to the crone and (probably more importantly) the things she said to me were off limits to everyone, even the Council. But I had secrets; real secrets that no one could know about, and her hinting about  my future put this crone smack in the middle of ‘bitch knows my secrets’ territory.

“Can we just get this over with?” I murmured, folding my arms over my chest.

“Figures you’d be icy. Your aura’s practically screaming. But rest assured Cresta, whatever you tell me stays between me and you. And Cresta, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you. Think of me as a stylish older sister.”

I shuddered. I would definitely
not
be thinking of her as any kind of sister. “What about those two?” I asked, motioning to the old women by the throne. “Doesn’t look very private.”

She laughed so hard that her entire body shook. Slapping her hand against her mouth, she bent over happily. “I forget how new you are. They’re not real.” Snapping her fingers, both of the old women shimmered and vanished before my eyes. They were nothing. They were shade; an expression of the crone’s power and imagination. And the worst part was, I hadn’t even sensed it. She tilted her head again. “Like I said; it’s just you and me.”

“Why can’t I feel any of this shade?” I asked, keeping my eyes pinned to hers. Dr. Static had taught me a little about battling this sort of thing.  If the crone could cause the rest of the world to spin and change around me without me being aware of it, I’d need something to focus on so that I could try to ground myself. Her eyes, pale like Wendy’s were, save for the smallest hint of blue, seemed like as good a thing as any.

“Aww Darling, I know you think you’re a big gun with your shade shaping whatever and your Bloodmoon lineage, but seers are the most powerful of all Breakers. Don’t feel bad. Somebody has to be at the top of the food chain. You should have seen me when I was young,” she grinned.

“Young? You’re like 20,” I answered.

“26 in two months actually,” she sighed. “It all goes by so fast.  I remember when I was a vibrant thing like your friend Wendy. Good going with the name, by the way. I’ve always wanted one myself, but I guess it’s too late to go messing around with things like that now.” Her finger twirled mournfully around one of her dark curls. “The whole world was opened up to me back then. I could see it all; everything that was, is, or ever would or even could be. Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch all that dwindle away? It’s like never being able to eat chocolate again. Can you imagine?!”

“Well, your powers must be further gone that you think, because I’m not the Bloodmoon. It’s been ruled out,” I lied.

The crone rolled her eyes. “Save that for somebody else, sister. I told you, we’re off the record in here. I know who you are. I know what you do. I can’t see exactly how you do it, but I suppose clarity is wasted on the young.” She reached out and touched my folded arms lightly. I pulled away. “By the time you learn to trust me, it’ll be too late,” she said. “The important thing to learn is, we all have our parts to play. Play yours to the best of your ability, and everything will go the way fate intends.”

“What if I don’t want it to?” I asked, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. Though I hated to admit it, there was something about being able to ask questions of someone who might something about my future with no fear of retribution that peaked my interest. What if she did know something? And what if that ‘something’ could help me avoid what everyone assured me was coming?

“You know, there are people who are going to tell you that what you want doesn’t matter. Don’t believe them.” She looked back at her throne and motioned to the magazine she had left sitting on it. “People told me I couldn’t read outside magazines, but look at me now. I can name all of the Kardashians.”

“You must be so proud,” I answered.

“The point is, the things you do, they matter. Very soon, you’re going to be faced with a choice-“ She stopped short, throwing her hands up to her temples. “Would you mind telling that passenger in your mind to quiet down? She’s giving me a headache.”

“You can see Merrin too?” I grimaced.

“Not see so much as hear, but it’s enough to distract me.” She leaned in. “I already gave you your reading, girl. Let the Bloodmoon have this one!”

I grabbed her hand, which caused the crone to break out into a huge smile. “Can you get her out of my head?”

“I could,” she answered, gently pulling her hand away and patting my arm. “But I won’t. You’re not the only one who has a road to go down.”  She twirled through her curls again. “What was I saying? Oh yeah, about your choices! Very soon, you’re going to have a choice. It won’t look like a choice; at least not the kind of choice you’re used to. Your heart will say one thing. The rest of the world will say something quite different. And fate; that stubborn bitch will have an option all her own. You’ll think you’re stuck. And if you believe that, you will be. But you should remember that, no matter what anyone tells you, free will is a powerful thing.” She put her finger against her lips. “And remember one other thing while you’re at it. For you, the end is going to look a lot like the beginning.”

“More fortune cookie crap,” I muttered.

“Sorry, Sweetpea, that’s sort of our stock and trade. Though I can imagine how Wendy must infuriate you. Tell her I said hey when you see her,” the crone gleamed.

My throat tightened a little. “Wendy’s dead. I thought you’d know that.”

“Dead?” The crone blinked. “That doesn’t make sense. Given what’s going to happen. Hell, given what’s happening now, she can’t-” The crone looked up and, reading my face, patted my arm again and said, “Don’t worry, Sweetie. It’s not happening to you; at least, not yet.” Sighing hard, she continued. “Oh well, I suppose I could be wrong. Like I said, my powers aren’t what they used to be. Things must be changing now. See, that’s the rub about being a washed up seer; you remember everything you used to know, but you can’t see the forks in the road anymore. It’s a real bitch.”

“I can imagine,” I answered.

“Don’t look so sour,” the crone said. “You’ve got a good thing here. You’ve got a hot boy toy on your arm, an important spot in history, and a pair of legs that won’t quit. Plenty of people have it worse.”

“I don’t wanna end the world,” I said, so softly that I could barely hear it myself.

“Maybe it’s not about what you want,” she answered. “Maybe it’s the world that wants to end.” She spun and headed back to her throne. “Chin up though. There are miles to go and mountains to climb before we deal with that. You have things to do, places to go, and things to survive through.” She turned, grabbed her magazine and sat, flipping through it with the fervor of one of DeSoto High’s more vapid cheerleaders. “I don’t want you to think it’s all work, fight, work, death, work, apocalypse,” she said, still looking at the magazine. “So, before you go, I’ll tell you the three words you had no idea you’ve been dying to hear; the three words that, when spoken, could change everything.” Then, finally looking up, she smiled a wide, mischievous smile, and said, “Hey there, Sunshine.”

The walk back to the Lightfoot farmhouse seemed to drag on forever. The escort I had been promised turned out to a balding man of at least fifty, with a lazy eye and absolutely nothing to talk about. It didn’t matter though. The crone had given me enough to chew on for the time being.

As we crossed through the main street, I went over the whole thing again in my mind. There was the whole free will spiel, her chastising Merrin-who I know knew for certain wasn’t just a figment of my imagination; all leading up to her repeating the words Wendy told me in the stupid dream that set all of this in motion.

Hey there, Sunshine.

What the hell did that mean? I thought it had just been Flora’s wakeup call breaking through to my subconscious mind when I woke up that day. But now, the way the crone said it, made me think it might be something else entirely. And what was up with that dream anyway? I found myself going over all of it again; everything Wendy had told me; Mother’s man, the doctor was looking, Sebastian not being who he said he was; whoever that was, and that sunshine garbage. Why couldn’t people who saw the future just be upfront about it? It would make everything so much easier.

I waved the balding silent man away with a curt, “Thanks,” as I neared the farmhouse. He didn’t answer; just nodded and shuffled away. I stood at the door for a little longer than I should have for a couple of different reasons. I wasn’t in a hurry to get back inside. I knew that I would want to know what the crone had said to Owen, and that, because of the rules the Breakers had set up about it, that he wouldn’t be able to tell me. I also knew that, now that I knew for sure that the whole ‘Merrin’ thing was really happening inside of me, I’d have to tell Owen about it. That was not a conversation I wanted to have. Also, and this was probably the stupidest part; even though I technically lived there, a piece of me felt weird about just waltzing into the Lightfoot’s home, like I should knock or something.

After another minute of stalling, I bit the bullet and pushed through the door. Almost immediately, I could sense that something was off. The entire house was quiet, but it was a loud quiet; the sort of silence that is so silent that it’s actually screaming. Owen’s mom and dad sat on a couch in the center of the living room. They both stared at me as I walked in, and Owen’s mom stood. There was a look in her eyes that confused me. It was like she was seeing me for the first time and trying to read me somehow.  Petar’s gaze was harder, but it lingered long enough to put me on edge.

Sevie hurried by in the periphery of my vision, closing a door behind him. Wait. There were doors now? My heart rose into my throat as I took in the area. What once was open had now been closed, separated by the very doors that Sevie had once told me were unnecessary for people in the Hourglass.

And, had Sevie been wearing a suit? Why did he get to dress up while the rest of us had to skulk around in these red and brown rags? Suddenly, I realized what must have happened. The crone told them the truth about me. She must have told everyone. I was exempt from whatever privacy laws protected everyone else in the Hourglass, and these doors that had been put up in an hour’s time were meant to keep me locked in. It must have been why Sevie hadn’t stopped to speak to me, why he wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

Before I could speak, not that I was sure what I was even going to say, Owen pushed through the new door that led to the kitchen. If I didn’t feel bad before, his face would have told the story. Owen looked like someone who had just lost his best friend. His face was a pale mask, his lips a quivering mess, and his eyes were red and exasperated. Whatever had happened while I was being escorted back from the crone’s lair had shaken him to his core. And that fact alone would have been enough to make me want to scream.

“What is it?” I asked directly to Owen. Screw the rest of them.

He walked closer to me. “Something’s happened,” he said in that voice he always used when he wanted me to stay calm about something that I absolutely had no business being calm about.

“They” I was about to say, ‘They know, don’t they?’, and Owen must have known that somehow, because he interrupted me.

“The Council of Masons has requested a meeting with you tomorrow,” he said quickly. “Well, with both of us actually.”

I gulped hard. Okay, that was bad; extremely potentially world shatteringly bad, but still not as bad as I thought. If I wasn’t able to deceive the Council, then they’d figure out the truth about me and probably cut me in half with a chainsaw or something. But the possibility of them knowing, however likely it was, was still better than them actually knowing.

“Okay,” I shook my head hard. “Okay. I mean, sure; it’s nerve wrecking, but it had to happen sooner or later.” Part of me was putting on for Owen’s parents. They weren’t supposed to think I had anything to hide. But part of me had really started to believe it would be okay. I had been through a lot, been in the Hourglass for a few days now, and –weird tabloid hungry crones aside- I had managed to keep my secret just fine. Maybe I could trick the Council. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

“That’s not all,” Owen said, his voice shaking.

Of course. Of course, that’s not all.

Owen walked close to me; closer than he ever had when there was someone else around to see it. This was bad. This was very bad. “The Council is nervous about you. People have been talking and, given that several people have been outed as Allister Leehman’s followers, they want to make sure your loyalty is with us.”