ARC: The Seers (2 page)

Refusing to be the one who chickened out, I took a deep breath and started to slowly make my way down the side hallway, studiously keeping my fingers from fiddling nervously with the hem of my shirt. Jocelyn, my father, and I hadn’t been alone together since our “talk” a few weeks ago, and, while I’m pretty sure that neither of us would actually admit that we were avoiding the other, I knew we kind of were. It wasn’t that we hadn’t seen each other at all, because we had. We’d even spoken a few times briefly, but it had always been in a group. This would be our first one-on-one, and the fact that I had no idea what to say to the man was more than a little unsettling.

But weird or no, I’d recently decided that I would at least try. And really try, not pretend to try while actually remaining skeptical and bitter like I’d done before. Well, OK, there may have still been some skepticism, but now it wasn’t so much about him as about whether or not an actual relationship between us could ever truly work. Strange as it was to admit, it seemed possible, but we’d really never know if I didn’t at least give it a shot. And yeah, it would have been nice not to have to be the one to initiate things, since the last effort had been made by him when he finally told me the truth about why he’d left us all those years ago, I knew it was my turn.

About halfway down the stone stretch, I reached out with my ability, focusing on the office ahead to see who I felt inside. I told myself I was just making sure Jocelyn was in fact there, ignoring the tiny hope that he wasn’t. There was indeed an ability in the office that I immediately recognized to be Jocelyn, but no others within the vicinity of the office, which meant he was alone.

Damn. So much for that…

Or, umm… good.

I paused in front of the office door, took a deep breath, and scanned the room one last time – you know, in case someone had materialized out of a wall or something in the last thirty seconds. OK, that was a lame hope, but hey, around Lorcan, that may not have been as crazy as it sounded.

But no, still only Jocelyn.

OK; this was it. No way around it now, and I would not be a wimp. I took one last breath, I set my jaw, pushed the queasy feeling in my stomach to the side, and knocked on the door.

CHAPTER 2

“Come in,” Jocelyn called.

I’d known he was there, but still for some reason I still jumped a little. I pushed the large wooden door open slightly and leaned in to find Jocelyn standing behind his desk, stacking textbooks into piles. When he looked up and saw me, it was clear he was shocked.

“Becca?”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, praying my voice sounded normal, “I know I’m early…”

“No, it’s fine,” he said with what I assume was supposed to be a smile, though he was still too surprised for it to look natural. “Come in.”

He pretended not to watch me walk over to one of the armchairs by the desk and take a seat, while I pretended not to notice him pretending not to watch.

Yeah… this wasn’t awkward or anything.

I pulled my feet up under me in the oversized chair, making much more out of straightening my pants than was really necessary as it gave me an excuse to stare at my legs as the seconds ticked by while I tried to come up with something to say. I didn’t just want to stare at him while he stacked books, but what was I supposed to say? Was he going to say anything? Should I just look out the window and pretend I’m daydreaming?

Had we been in a cartoon, I was pretty sure we’d be due for a cricket chirp right about now…

“How have you been feeling?” he asked, the sudden sound startling me.

“Fine,” I said, knowing he was talking about my Iris-induced near-death experience a few weeks ago. “Back to normal.”

“Good,” he nodded, followed by another bout of heavy silence.

OK, this was getting us nowhere. I’d forced myself to make good on my resolution to “try,” and I wasn’t about to let the effort it took to get this far all be for not. He’d asked me how I was, so it was my turn to say something, and sticking with questions seemed the best way to go.

“So um… Do you know these people?” I asked, proud of myself for speaking, even if my tone hadn’t actually sounded as casual as it had in my mind. “The ones we’re going to see I mean, the Bhunaidh?”

“No,” he said, seeming to relax slightly, “not personally, or at least not well. I’ve met the head family, Brassal Bloch and his wife Alva. They have two children, both attending University now, I believe.”

“What do you mean ‘head family’? Are they in charge?”

“Something like that,” he nodded, as he started moving the stacks of textbooks to the bookcase on the wall, lining them on the empty shelves toward the bottom. “The Bhunaidh have their own, very unique way of life, and to them, the Blochs are essentially their… well, royal family, I suppose, for lack of a better description.”

Royal family? These people were just getting better and better by the minute.

Realizing it was totally lame of me to just sit and watch a man walk back and forth with stacks of books when I had functioning limbs, I got up and stepped over to the desk. “OK,” I said, picking up the next stack of books and handing it to him, “royal families, galas, private personal tailors; these people really are as bad as everyone says, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know if ‘bad’ is the best word, but I’m sure you would think as much,” he said with an emphasis on “you,” as he took the books from me and turned back to the bookcase.

“
You’d think as much
?” I said, mimicking his tone. “Should I be offended? Kinda feels like I should.” I’d known what he meant, but me being me, I couldn’t help but fall back into one of my most tried and true comfort zones: sarcasm.

Unfortunately, he didn’t recognize the joke in my undertone. “No,” he said, looking up quickly, clearly thinking I was mad – though given our more recent history, I couldn’t really blame him. “I only meant…” but he stopped when he saw that I was smiling. Relaxing, he took the next stack of books from my outstretched hand. “What I meant was that growing up as you have in this era, you are used to the idea that people are equal no matter their circumstance. The Bhunaidh don’t operate that way.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all the holier-than-thou crap.”

“It is not crap to them. They call themselves Bhunaidh, or Originals, because their bloodlines are directly descended from the Holders of ancient times.”

“Good for them,” I mumbled, passing over the last of the books. “Surprised they are letting us come to this gala at all.”

Jocelyn chuckled slightly. “Actually, when I asked if we could attend their get-together this year, they were thrilled. They have been trying to bring me into their fold for decades. Of course I didn’t mention that we were, in fact, coming to find one of their own who is possibly a spy for Darragh. I can’t imagine that conversation would have gone well.”

“Wait, they want you in their little Holder club? Why? I thought it was only pureblooded Holders allowed. Weren’t your parents normal? I mean wasn’t that the whole prophecy deal?” I asked, trying to remember what Min and Alex had told me about all the old stories. From what I could remember, it was said that a full Holder would be born whose ability didn’t come from anyone else in his line, and that his son – or as it turned out, daughter; me – would be the Holder destined to awaken the Iris.

“That was the deal,” he grinned, “yes. But in my instance, bloodline is of little matter. I am
Bronntanas
,” he said, rolling his eyes slightly. “Not only am I worthy,” I smiled at that distaste in his voice at the word “worthy,” happy to know that he seemed to find this as ridiculous as I did, “but I would most certainly be quite a large feather in their collective cap. The Bhunaidh know more about Holder lore and our legends than anyone. It is an immensely serious matter to them, almost like a religion.”

“Religion?” I was trying not to giggle, as I probably shouldn’t have been, but I couldn’t help it. “So, does that make you the God?”

Luckily, he smiled too. “No, not God,” he chuckled. Then, with a grin added, “Moses, at best.”

I was about to continue my line of questioning, but stopped when a subtle pulling sensation began to bloom in my chest. Immediately my heart picked up as the fuzzy warmth grew, spreading down my arms and up my back, making my neck tingle and my stomach flutter. It was a feeling I’d experienced for the first time only a few weeks ago, however since then I’d grown so used to it that part of me felt strangely empty when it was gone. It was exciting, like sitting down to watch a movie you’d been waiting months to see, while at the same time soothing as a hot drink after being out in the snow. It was comforting, it was fulfilling, it was thrilling, and it was nerve-racking.

It was the feeling of the Anam bond… which meant Alex was nearby.

A moment later a knock at the office door had both Jocelyn and I turning – him in curiosity; me in anticipation.

“Come in,” Jocelyn called, standing and walking around to the front of the desk.

“Afternoon,” Min’s voice said, as she entered the room followed by Cormac, Mr Anderson, and Alex.

He met my eyes the moment he came through the door, then, quickly surveying the room and seeing that I had in fact been the first to arrive, looked back at me and raised his eyebrows slightly, impressed. I lifted my chin just a touch in a subtle, “That’s right, I’m awesome,” kind of way, to which the corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled, their stormy blue irises laughing at me.

As they filed in to the large office and began taking seats around the large coffee table in the center of the room, Alex walked by my chair and ran the backs of his fingers discreetly down my arm as he passed, sending hot chills racing along my skin, heating my neck, and prickling my ears. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Everything about him told me how happy he was to see me. The last time we’d been together was the morning before last, just before Alex left with Mr Reid on a short scouting trip down to Cork, in the south of Ireland. I knew he’d gotten back that morning, but between my endless dress fitting and Alex helping Mr Anderson with a campus tour, this had been the first chance we’d had to see each other. It was wonderful to have him close again, and I really was trying to convince myself that the combination of seeing him and the amazing – though short-lived – feel of his touch was enough. It should have been enough, at least to get me though this meeting… but it wasn’t. When it came to Alex, nothing would ever be enough for me, and though I usually did a good job of keeping my sappy, sentimental, lovely-dovey thoughts under control, that afternoon, it wasn’t happening. Embarrassed as I was to admit it, at that moment… I would have done
anything
for a kiss.

But of course I knew that wasn’t going to happen, not with so many people around. Alex and I never kissed in public. In fact, we never did anything more than hold hands unless we were alone. Every so often he would give me a peck on the cheek, but that was it. Alex preferred our more… um…
personal
exchanges to remain a private matter. He was definitely a gentleman, and held nothing higher than our relationship and the bond we shared, and while I knew that there were girls my age that would have frustrated by such old-fashioned discretion, I found it charming.

At least normally. However, on days like this, it was the best and worst kind of torture. The need for his lips on mine was like the tickle of a feather I couldn’t scratch, and as Alex sat at the end of the couch nearest my chair, I kicked myself for not thinking to move over there myself before they’d arrived.

OK… time to focus on something else…

Luckily, Mr Reid chose that moment to come rushing in, completing our group.

“You’re late,” Mr Anderson grumbled, as Mr Reid took the seat next to him on the second couch.

“I’m not late,” Mr Reid said under his breath, pulling his sleeve back and displaying his wristwatch to Mr Anderson. “We were to begin at 4 o’clock, and it is 4 o’clock.”

“Aye,” Anderson said, pushing Reid’s wrist back, “we were to
begin
at 4, not
arrive
at 4.”

“We have several things to go over today,” Jocelyn began, putting an end to the mumbling and starting the meeting. “First off, we need to determine which classes will need to be covered in Cormac’s and my absence…”

It quickly became clear that the first portion of the meeting would have nothing to do with me, so I tuned out a bit, breaking my “focus elsewhere” vow as my eyes slid over to Alex. He was sitting casually, elbow leaning on the couch’s armrest, chin resting on his knuckles, evidently listening intently to the conversation across the room about schedules and curriculums. Or at least that was how he appeared. However on closer inspection, I realized that his eyes, which should have been focused on the speakers, were glancing sideways at me as though he were waiting for me to look at him. When our eyes met, he smiled ever so slightly then looked down pointedly at the coffee table in the center of the room before looking back up to the conversation, again seeming perfectly attentive.

More than familiar with this game, I looked down at the table where his eyes had been moments ago, and sure enough, a few moments later the pattern of the wood grain on its surface began to move, twisting and curving until the dark veins formed words floating in the pale chestnut background.

“Hi.”
The lines swirled again.
“I’ve missed you.”

Following his example, I focused my gaze on the scheduling conversation while simultaneously reaching across to Mr Anderson, connecting with him and assuming his ability. Over the past few weeks I’d made several strides in honing my ability, but the one I was most happy about was my newly-developed power of stealth. It had taken some time, but I had finally reached a point where, if I was careful, I could connect with other Holders and use their abilities without them realizing I was doing so. I knew it didn’t really get me much, but it still made me feel slick.

Not to mention how handy it was when partaking in candid conversations during boring portions of meetings…

“
I missed you too
,” I imparted carefully, making sure that Alex was the only one to get the message.

“I was hoping you would be over here,”
the table read, while at the same time Alex moved his hand from his chin to the couch, drumming his fingers lightly on the edge of the upholstered arm.

“
I know, sorry.
”

“No problem. I’ll just have to wait a little longer.”

I couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at that last message, particularly at the level of detail he was using in his casts. He had even gone as far as to use the knots in the wood grain for his letter “o”s.

“
You know that no one else can see this,
” I glanced over to him quickly, “
you don’t have to work so hard.
”

“
You don’t like the table…?
” the grain spelled out, then slowly dissolved back into its rightful pattern except for one wispy spot that slid over to the edge of the table, down the leg and on to the floor. It melted into the carpet causing the fibers of the Oriental rug to ripple and then move, rearranging the images of gold leaves and ornate flowers into words. “
How about the rug”
I was about to answer when a growing pattern of frost on the window opposite me caught my eye.
“Or the window?”

“OK, now you’re just screwing with me.”

I saw his lips twitch as the writing on both the carpet and window disappeared, only to be replaced by black letters hanging in the air a few feet in front of me. They were a squared font and appeared one at a time as though an invisible typewriter was floating in the air.

“All right then, boring it is.”

I smashed my lips together to keep from smiling and made sure to keep my eyes on the discussion. “
Stop making me laugh, we’re going to get caught.
”

“Looks like you need to learn to control yourself.”
I glanced over again to see his eyes sparkle as the corner of his mouth raised a bit.

So he thought he was funny, did he? Well I could be funny too…

“
I thought I was doing a good job controlling myself,
” I imparted innocently, “
because all I want to do is jump into your lap and kiss you until we can’t breathe.
”