Oblivious, p.35
Oblivious, page 35
Gideon scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Anything for you, sis.”
She turned to me. “And of course you have to be in it. You’re part of the family now. Mum will want to put this photo on the mantel.”
She gave me no time to answer before she prattled on about the sites she wanted to hit today. I was grateful I only had to listen, because my thoughts were a blurred mess over what awaited us when we took our turn in the archway.
The orderly queue moved group by group as the heat of the crowd pressed in on me.
Although Madison maintained a steady excitement in her tone, I recognized the freak-out happening behind her happy expression. She was the empath, but I wasn’t without empathy.
It had been over a decade since she’d been here, and if our mission didn’t go the way we wanted, she might never leave. The fact she wasn’t throwing up all over the grass was more than a little impressive.
“Have you been here before?” Gideon asked me.
I guessed he didn’t mean the tourist side of things.
“A few times.” We shuffled forward in the line. “The first time, I was still in diapers. My parents brought me.”
Me between my mother and father. The memory was vague, foggy, more dream than reality. Had my mother really been as uncomfortable as I remember? My hand had been tight in my dad’s, that much I knew for sure because I felt the pressure around my fingers as I stood here today, as though he were beside me right now. He’d been excited, crouching down and pointing everything out. Mom… I couldn’t see her clearly. I thought I remembered her standing apart, looking around as though afraid someone was about to swoop in and devour her.
“I don’t remember this, but Dad loves to tell me I cried the whole time,” I said with a chuckle. “He presented me to the queen, and she took me in her arms and told me to stop. According to Dad, I did. Just like that. I couldn’t look away from her. He says the only other time my eyes grew that wide was when I saw my cake on my second birthday. What I do remember is the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. She still pops into my dreams from time to time. Sometimes calm, sometimes cold, but always perfect.”
“That must have been quite an honour, being presented to the queen?”
“Yes and no. Yes that she held me, but not so much that we were there. It’s parental choice, of course, but it’s good politics for supernaturals to present their children at court. It shows respect for both sides of the wall. Confirmation that you agree to obey the rules laid down by the department and the realm.”
I looked around to make sure no one was listening, but my voice was low enough—both to avoid detection and to prevent the extra noise from sparking my headache—that we hadn’t attracted anyone’s curiosity.
“Since then, I’ve come twice on business. Both times to meet with her advisers, never with Meril.”
“Is it normal for there to be so much crossover between the court and the department?”
“It’s not unusual. Bastien was a traditionalist, more inclined to keep the Shadow Council aware of any issues than some ministers have been, so we’ve seen a rise in diplomatic visits.”
Gideon’s brow furrowed, and I understood his confusion. The United States didn’t have to deal with the wall. They could access the realm through designated doorways, but for the most part, all that awaited them on the other side were areas they chose to maintain. Markets, hideaways, isolated vacation spots. All official matters were dealt with in this world. One government, one plane of existence. Simpler in some ways, but less tidy in others.
“That’s the side of Canadian supernatural culture many people don’t know about,” I said. “Lots of us turn our backs on the realm and rely on the protection of the perception filter and the resources the department offers. That’s fine. We’re entitled to that independence as part of the agreement made with the queen when the department was founded, but it also means the court holds no obligation to help if you run into trouble.”
“So it’s an ultimatum? Swear allegiance to me or best of luck?”
“It’s not allegiance so much as leaving the door open. My loyalty is—” I stumbled, cleared my throat. “Despite everything, it remains to the department. If I ever had to choose between the two, I know the decision I’d make. But it’s a matter of respect for the department to report any unresolvable issues to the queen and her advisers. Especially if there’s a possibility our people are in danger and SMOAC is not in a position to help them.”
“In the hope she’ll step in?”
“Hope isn’t the word I’d use. If we were to ask her, it would be as an absolute, end-of-the-world last resort. Think of her as a kraken. If she rises from the depths, forget secrecy. The wall will shatter and the entire world will know that Canada, at least, has a face it keeps hidden. From there, it’s a short jump to realizing every country is two-sided.”
Gideon frowned and glanced at the archway as though expecting Meril to waltz through. “Would she take that risk? Doesn’t she agree with the secrecy laws?”
I shrugged. “She does as far as it keeps her people safe. But if they’re threatened? She won’t hide on her throne.” I paused, letting the weight of my meaning sink in. Depending on how our meeting turned out today, our lives as we knew them might change forever, and the us-against-them mentality we’d worked so hard to avoid would be inevitable.
“How long after that until we’re hunted?” I wondered aloud, my worry a steady throb as my headache worsened. “Until we have to fight to protect ourselves, revealing more of what we’re capable of? We might win in the end, but that’s not a guarantee, and if we lost, what would the mundanes do without us? They have no idea how big a role we play in keeping them safe from evils they don’t know exist.”
A shudder ran through me, and I massaged the back of my neck as my muscles tensed.
“We’re sure this is our best bet?” Gideon asked, looking around us again. “I know Madison’s been summoned, but couldn’t we have found a way to put the queen off until we had something final to offer?”
“We would never have been able to keep Madi hidden, not now that Meril’s deployed her Eyes. And it would be so much worse for us if we tried. Besides, Madi’s right—going to the queen now makes us look good and gives Meril time to prepare for any eventuality. If we play this smart, and we’re really lucky, the three of us get to walk out of here with a few extra resources.”
“And if we’re unlucky?”
I swallowed hard. “Then Madison will be bound to the Shadow Council, and you and I will have to make do with what we have. And brace ourselves for what happens if Gagnon wins.”
Darkness cloaked the scale weighing our options, leaving me unable to guess which side we’d come down on. The queen’s temper was notoriously unpredictable. It was the reason so many of our kind had opted to leave when the opening presented itself a hundred and fifty years ago. They’d wanted to escape her anger, her spies, her total control over every element of their lives.
My father had wanted to introduce me to this part of the world, to teach me how to show it the respect our history deserved, but when the Shadow Council had offered him a position at court, he’d refused, as much for my and my brother’s sakes as for his and my mother’s. It wasn’t a life he felt any of his family should have to endure. Especially when my mundane mother and brother would have faced the brunt of supernatural prejudice.
The risk of being pulled back now was greatest for Madison, her being the queen’s descendant and already having received a summons, but I had to be ready to trade my freedom as well if Meril commanded it. Gideon, being an American citizen, would be exempt, but who knew what she might demand of him instead.
“Maybe it would be better if you waited for us here,” I said. Although I hated the idea of losing his solid presence at my side, it wasn’t fair to lead him yet again into the unknown when the cost might be his freedom. “Meril doesn’t give anything for nothing, not even in an emergency. I can’t guarantee what we’ll face once we’re over there.”
He caught my gaze, the deep brown of his eyes boring into me, drawing me in, lifting me out of myself.
“I told you I’m staying with you until this is over. Whatever she wants from me, I’ll listen. If it’s not something I want to give, I’ll deal with it.”
Sparks flew through my stomach, tightening the muscles down my legs and around my back. I wanted to touch him, to draw from his strength and courage as mine slipped away. My throat closed, and I looked away to gain control over myself.
What was wrong with me?
Before last week, I hadn’t cried in years. So long ago, I didn’t remember what I’d cried about. Over the past couple of days, I couldn’t stop the tears, unable to face a slight breeze without my emotions overwhelming me.
My sorrow over the loss of my team was bad enough, but Gideon… He’d triggered a whole slew of feelings I couldn’t sort out, and the confusion was almost worse than the grief.
“Finally,” Madison said. “Our turn. Come on.” She grabbed our hands and dragged us towards the archway.
I had no idea if she’d overheard any of our conversation or if she’d been lost in her thoughts, but she acted as though we really were a trio out enjoying the day, to hell with anyone who tried to ruin it. I wished I knew what was going through her head, the true face behind the smile, but this was hardly the time to ask.
We crossed the grass, and as we got closer to the archway, vibrations hummed in the air and under my feet. Not anything the mundane would sense—not that they’d realize, anyway—but as clear to me as though a loud bass rumbled underground, radiating up through the soles of my boots. I clung to the air molecules whipping around my head and worked to settle them, but they wouldn’t be tamed. My attempts spread the vibrations through the rest of my body, making the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck dance.
I let the air go, not wanting to put myself more off balance than I already was, and the sensation eased but didn’t disappear.
“Whoa…” Gideon whispered as we climbed the steps to the threshold of the archway.
“Smile for the camera!” Madison cried, and held her phone out in front of us. “Say chlaid mo feanna!”
I repeated the words, the lilting sounds tripping over my tongue as though the syllables came from somewhere outside me. They were clumsy, rough in my mouth, but as soon as they were out, a wave of power washed over me, and I shivered. The vibrations evolved into a smoother flow of magic, a stronger force than anything I experienced on the mundane side of the wall.
Gideon stumbled over the words, mumbled them so badly I worried he wouldn’t trigger the spell, but as soon as he fell silent, he stiffened, and his gaze darted around as he sensed the change. The doorway was open. Easy as that.
And the people awaiting their turn in the archway hadn’t noticed a thing.
Madison turned first, raised her chin, and squared her shoulders. She took a hesitant step forward, crossed through the archway opposite the way we’d come, and strode ahead until she passed out of sight.
I wondered what the mundanes in front of us thought of her disappearance, how their brains rationalized the impossible. The question occurred to me often, whenever the reality of our world flaunted itself in the innocence of theirs, but never more than when the sense of other was so overpowering.
From what my father had taught me about how the perception filter worked, their brains would hurry to create a logical memory, filling in the void where Madison should have been: stepping down from the archway and walking away. Still here on this field and finished with her photographs, on to the next site.
Whatever they believed, there was no surprise in anyone’s eyes. No confusion or amazement.
As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Letting their disinterest calm my anxiety, I followed Madison through the doorway, appreciating Gideon’s closeness as we crossed the wall.
Into another world.
The differences were subtle at first—the same trees, the same grass. It was only when I looked more closely that I noticed the different species of plants and the vividness of the colours. The leaves were greener, the flowers a brighter hue than existed in our world. Everything touched by beauty and magic, their true natures, their best natures, visible to anyone who cared to see it.
To our left was the window of the forest, the stone wall around the window frames whole instead of in ruin, no longer freestanding on the edge of the garden but the exterior of a gatehouse. It was currently unoccupied, though it usually housed someone to greet high-ranking guests who arrived to request an audience with the queen.
Gideon spun in a slow circle, tilting his head back to take in the height of the trees and the clearness of the sky. “This is…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” I said.
“That’s one way of putting it. I don’t think I could get any more specific.”
Madison stopped a few metres ahead, waiting for us to catch up.
“So, where are we headed?” Gideon asked. “Everything looks… the same. Not the same, but the same.”
Despite my stress over what came next, I couldn’t help but laugh at his awe. His reaction was identical to my own the first time I’d come here in my capacity as a SMOAC captain.
Being here was like looking at the world in a funny mirror, one that distorted the image reflecting back at you, but in such tiny ways it took a while for your brain to catch up with reality.
Even now, I had trouble settling everything into place, but having expected it, I wasn’t quite as disoriented.
“That way,” Madison said, pointing left beyond the trees.
It was the same stretch of paths and field we would have followed on the other side of the wall. The same crowds, the same trees, the same sunshine. But over here, the crowds weren’t tourists, they were residents going about their business, and more than a few of them would have drawn stunned gazes from the people snapping photos in the archway. Some had wings, some had four legs, some six—though still walking on two feet. Skin tones ranged from blue to grey to mottled green, and the eyes staring at us were white or gold or slitted through like a lizard’s.
There were no perception filters here, no hiding. None of that was necessary. We knew who and what we were, so there was nothing to fear.
While millions of our kind had fled the queen’s authoritarian rule, just as many had stayed behind for the freedom to be themselves. It was why the wall mattered, and another reason the consequences of it falling were so great.
Gideon looked down at himself and started. I followed his gaze to the layer of mist swirling around him, hugging close to his skin and following every slight movement he made.
“It’s always there,” I said, “even if it’s not visible. Your magic is heightened in the realm, making the subtler parts of your magic easier to see. I bet dissolving would take you half the effort it usually does.”
He raised his hands and watched the mist dance over his palms and around his wrists. In a smooth display, one hand disappeared, the mist keeping the shape of his fingers as he dragged them through the air. He rematerialized in the same sweep, still staring at his palm. “Huh.” His attention shifted to my forehead, and surprise flickered through his gaze. “Your eye.”
I brushed my fingers over the fine ridges of my third eye. “I know. The first time I came here as an adult and caught sight of myself in a mirror, I’m pretty sure I spent a good five minutes checking it out.”
On the other side of the wall, my secondary ability looked like nothing more than faint scarring in a somewhat eye-like shape, growing more noticeable when I used it. Here, there was nothing faint about the pale shimmering lines that stood out in sharp contrast to my skin, the definition of the eyelid, which I hadn’t even known existed until I’d come here.
I closed my physical eyes and opened my third, chuckling at Gideon’s audible reaction as the lid raised, the pale white iris and open pupil staring boldly at him. Even my ability to see the memories of the objects I came in contact with was enhanced, no longer vague shadows but blurred specifics, detailed with a fuzzy silver glow, like watching a scene from underwater as the light poured in. All around us moved figures from the last few minutes, all the various footwear and feet that had trampled this grass. A boring reveal in and of itself but hinting at the potential of what I would see if I rested my hand against the gatehouse wall and pressed back through time. A shame my priorities had never given me the opportunity to play.
Opening my other two eyes, I allowed the third to close and nodded towards Madison, who had once again outstripped us. “Wait until we get to court. I’m the least of the wonders here.”
“I doubt that,” he said, and the weight of his voice, the gentle certainty, the intensity in his eyes, dropped like pebbles in my heart and rippled out to the tips of my fingers.
Heat swirled under my skin, creeping upwards, and I turned away, unsure how to respond and embarrassed by my confusion.
What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t some googly-eyed teenager, but he turned me into someone I didn’t recognize. The way he’d looked at me after we’d spent the night together spun through my thoughts, tightening the pit of my stomach, and I pushed the memory away. If we came out of this—and that was a big if—there would be time to figure everything out, but for now I had to stay focused. Michael had called the queen’s court a dragon’s den, and while I disagreed with him about almost everything else, that much was true. All this sentiment messing up my head was a distraction that wouldn’t serve me.
The future of our supernatural population was on the line. Getting justice for my team had to come before my hormonal urges.
