Ascendant (28 page)

Another quick, inscrutable glance between Valerija and Cory.

“No,” Cory said. “No boyfriends. The doctors are wondering if it’s something connected with hunting. An allergic reaction, maybe, or a disease of some kind that vectors between hunters and unicorns.”

“But what unicorn have you been in contact with that none of the rest of us have?” I asked. “Bonegrinder would have brought with her any disease those unicorns in England had.”

“Or,” she continued, “maybe it was something Gordian did to me back when we were still trying to figure all this stuff out. Back when we were testing Bonegrinder and me, before the Cloisters opened.”

“We want to ask Isabeau,” said Valerija, coming close. She grabbed Cory’s hand and squeezed it. “Because they could have also done it to me. It may be any time now that I lose my powers, too.”

Cory gave Valerija a very serious look, and placed her free hand on top of their joined ones. “You won’t. I promise.”

I stared at them, more confused than ever.

“You know what?” Valerija said at once. “I think I’m going to go for a quick walk around the woods. Bye!” She scurried off, and the einhorns trailed after her.

“Cory …” I began.

“She’s doing so well, don’t you think?” Cory said.

“She’s not the only one,” I drawled. What was with all the hand-holding and mysterious glances?

“Astrid, you have no idea what her life was like before she came to us. She lost her mum, too. You know. Just like me.”

“Oh.” I looked after Valerija, into the woods. I’d never spent much time getting to know the runaway when she’d first come to live with us. Frankly, she’d scared me, and with good reason, as she’d turned out to be a Gordian spy. Though Phil had even been her roommate for a while, I never got the sense that they chatted much. Only Cory had been friendly from the start. No wonder Valerija had volunteered for the job of watching her.

“Not exactly like me, though,” Cory went on. “Her mother was … troubled. Alcoholic, other drugs. And when she died, Valerija was left living with her mum’s old boyfriend. He, um, tried to hurt her, and that’s when she ran away.”

“That’s terrible. She never told us.”

“It’s hard for her. Not just the language barrier, but everything. You know how hard it was for her to tell us about Gordian and all last summer. But we’ve grown quite close, so …”

“How close?” I asked.

She pursed her lips. “We have a lot in common.”

Oh yeah. Valerija the druggie runaway and Cory the rich, pampered princess. But maybe who we used to be before we were hunters didn’t matter so much after all.

“We do!” she insisted. “And she’s so much better now. I can’t wait until they see her back at the Cloisters.”

“No more pills?” I asked.

“Hasn’t in months,” Cory stated, her eyes shining with pride. “Says the unicorn magic’s the only high she needs.”

“That’s … nice, I guess.” Was that what being high felt like? Magic? Was that why I craved being near the unicorns?

“I know, odd, isn’t it?” Cory shrugged, and I gave a little chuckle to cover up my own confusion. “But that’s what she says. Which makes me even more scared for her—if she catches whatever this thing I have is.” She leaned in. “Because to tell you the truth, I don’t know if I much mind the other drawbacks. I find I don’t miss hunting.”

“I’m right there with you,” I said.

“And I’m certain I’ll be safe in the Cloisters. We’re going back, both of us. I don’t need to take one of their few hunters away for bodyguard purposes.”

“How magnanimous of you,” I joked.

“It was Val’s idea.” Cory checked for the other girl in the woods, but she was too far within the trees. From the echoed thoughts of the unicorns surrounding her, Valerija seemed to be in seventh heaven. If I closed my eyes, no doubt I could feel her myself, the pinprick node vibrating to me through a string of unicorn consciousnesses.

If I wasn’t careful, Valerija might steal my job.

And then where would Cory be?

“She gets so few interactions with unicorns in London, she’s worried she might lose her powers and not even know it.”

“I think she’d know it,” I said softly to Cory. If I closed my eyes, I’d feel Cory, too. I’d notice everyone, because the unicorns did. They knew each of us here in the woods. They knew the protesters beyond the fence, cooking their stews and washing their clothes and painting their signs. “Right now, though, I’m more worried about you.”

She looked straight into my eyes, and most of what I saw there was concern for me. Me, alone here without the support of other hunters. Alone here with Brandt. Left alone to ponder the ethics of killing unicorns who had never hurt anyone at all.

But she didn’t say any of that. Instead, she said, “Believe it or not, I’ve never been happier.”

I took a deep breath. “Because of Valerija.”

She nodded. “Because of Val, yes.”

Well, then.

“Astrid?” Cory looked apprehensive. She clasped her hands together. “What are you thinking?”

The edge of my mouth quirked up. “That I’m not the only one with a penchant for dating ex-Gordian spies.”

Cory blushed red to the roots of her hair then hugged me. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked facetiously.

“You’re the only one who knows. Neil would throw a fit.”

“That’s very close-minded of him.”

“No, silly!” She laughed. She was doing that a lot now. “Because we’re hunters. You know how he feels about people in the Cloisters being together.”

I rolled my eyes. Did I ever.

“And because Val is … well, he can’t stop thinking of her the way she was when she first came to us.”

Well, the drugs were gone, the knives had ended up being an asset, and she’d definitely come out of her shell. “Pretty sure he’ll see that’s no longer the case,” I said. I was pretty sure he’d see everything else, too. Oh, to be a fly on the wall of the Cloisters when they showed up there!

“You’re okay with it, aren’t you, Astrid?” Cory asked. “I know I haven’t been fair to you with Giovanni, but now I realize I was … kind of jealous.” She looked like she might cry.

“Of me?” I asked, stricken.

She wrung her hands. “Um … of Giovanni.”

Valerija appeared again, just in time. “Okay, enough of the unicorns. Let’s have some breakfast.”

I spent the rest of the day in a sort of fog while Isabeau gave Valerija and Cory the grand tour. I trailed behind them on their visits to the château and the labs, and gave short answers to the questions that the three of them aimed at me.

This was too much to process after an all-nighter. Bucephalus, here? Cory and Valerija, here? Cory and Valerija … together? How had I never picked up on the fact that Cory’s disapproval of my boyfriend was tinged with other feelings? We’d shared a room in Italy and I hadn’t picked up on it. It was official: I may be able to read the mind of a unicorn, but when it came to my loved ones, I was completely clueless.

If Cory and Valerija were an item, what did that mean for their magic? Could they be together, for real, or were they trapped under the same restrictions I was? I doubted this was a loophole the Catholic nuns had considered. I wondered if the goddess had.

And if they could be together, how unfair was that? Stupid magic.

The one person we failed to see all day was Brandt, and when the other girls asked about him, Isabeau simply waved her hand and said that Brandt had gone on a trip.

“Already? “ I asked. “But he was up all night.”

“You seem to have plenty of energy, Astrid,” was all Isabeau deigned to reply.

“Well, we’re not particularly interested in him,” Cory said. “But if you have any information about another ex-boyfriend of one of our Llewelyns …”

“You speak, I suppose, of Seth Gavriel,” said Isabeau.

“Anything at all,” Cory said brightly. “Last known location, if you bought him any clothes or vehicles before he left …”

“If you know of any fatal allergies …” Valerija added, and I became acquainted with her smile.

“Alicorn poison,” Isabeau replied, returning Valerija’s smile. “And should the legal avenues for some odd reason fail, I might recommend its application. Believe me, I should like to see that young man brought to justice as much as you. I do not know your friend Philippa, but I know Astrid loves her very much, and so I love her as well. First and foremost, I believe in the law. But I admit that I can also understand your desire for real revenge. Don’t forget I, too, am a Llewelyn.”

Cory leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I take back my earlier impression. I really like this woman.”

The rest of the day passed with the kind of discussions I usually loved. Isabeau turned over all the files she had on Cory and Valerija, and helped them cross-reference the tests they’d undergone at Marten’s lab, trying to discover if anything Cory had experienced might have triggered her condition.

“You were exposed to alicorn venom here,” Isabeau explained, holding up a sheet of paper, “but it was not the first or last time. I can’t imagine how the effect would change.”

“And this one is just a standard blood drawing,” I said, pointing to another sheet.

The tests on Valerija had been similarly mundane, and since Marten had used her as a guinea pig after he was done with Cory, none of the tests had overlapped.

“I’ll make up copies of these files to take with you,” Isabeau said to Cory. “And if there’s any other information I can get—or tests I can assist you with—let me know. You’re correct; your condition is quite curious.”

Valerija stared at her wide-eyed, as unbelieving as I’d been when I first came here. I beamed. All Jaegers weren’t cut from the same cloth. Then again, Isabeau was really a Llewelyn.

They also talked endlessly about their research—Cory into the history of hunters, Isabeau into the history of their medicine. They shared information and promised to send each other sources that the other might find helpful. I was actually surprised by the extent of familiarity Isabeau had when it came to the topic of hunter genealogy. Perhaps
she
could help me find my father’s family.

And apparently, Isabeau found a kindred spirit in Cory. “I’ve been reading the work of Hildegard von Bingen,” Cory said over tea. “Are you familiar with her?”

“Am I!” Isabeau exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to get Astrid to read her for weeks.”

“What?” I looked up from the file containing Cory’s medical information. “Oh, right, the German nun. Wasn’t really my thing.”

“Really?” said Cory. “Despite all the ancient medicine?”

“A lot of it was just ridiculous. Unscientific.”

“Quite scientific for the time,” Isabeau argued. “And yes, some of it is nonsense, but a lot of it was based on real observations of herbal remedies. Things that are still used today. You should try her again, Astrid. She believed in the marriage of science and mysticism. There is no truer example of that than you and me.”

I smiled indulgently. “Okay, I’ll try.” If Phil wasn’t in the job already, I’d wager that Isabeau would make an excellent Cloisters donna.

“I was fascinated with the whole idea of
viriditas,”
Cory said. She turned to me. “Hildegard was obsessed with it. It means God’s power of creation, but also freshness, vitality, life-springing-forth, and all that.”

“All that,” I repeated with a laugh.

“Well, I really liked what she said about how creation can be any kind of life. It can be an herb garden, it can be a baby, it can be a work of art, or a medical discovery—”

“Or an organization of women built from nothing, Cory? “ Valerija interjected.

Cory blushed. “But she was speaking to her fellow nuns, who maybe thought that since they were spending their lives in convents, rather than getting married and having children, that they had nothing to contribute to the world.”

“She was an early feminist,” Isabeau agreed.

“But also,” Cory said, really on a roll, “it was like we nuns, we virgins—whatever—we had extra
viriditas
. We had more
viriditas
than anyone else in the world.”

Isabeau straightened. “What an interesting way to view it.” She pulled out another book. “Cornelia, did I show you these? It’s a family tree of the Saint Marie branch living in AlsaceLorraine.”

I didn’t have much of a chance to talk to Cory privately, though I did exchange a few words with Valerija.

“She has told you, yes?” Valerija asked when I took her to show her the alicorn arrowheads. I’d promised her half my stash.

“Yes,” I said. The target was still set up across the lawn. I handed her my bow. “Try them out.”

“I am—” She hesitated. “I am happy, Astrid. And I think, I hope, she is happy, too.” She picked up my practice bow, aimed, and shot. Bull’s-eye. “When I started hunting unicorns, I felt very useful. I felt useful for the first time ever. And I didn’t want to take anything.”

“Because of the magic?” I asked.

“I thought it was,” she admitted, setting down the bow. She didn’t look up. “But then I was sent to be with Cory, and I was useful there, too. And there was no magic.”

She looked up and smiled. “Okay, there was some magic.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “But what does it mean? You know, for the rules.”

“I do not know,” said Valerija. “And I do not want to risk anything. It is too dangerous for all of us right now, to not be hunters. Besides,” she said, and touched the arrowheads reverently, “it is still what makes me useful.”

Cory and Valerija stayed into the late afternoon, then headed out, having booked a late flight to Rome. I wished they could stay at least overnight, but Cory was keen to see Neil and cross-reference the family trees Isabeau had shared with the records at the Cloisters. She hoped they could scare up a few more hunters.

I made another plea to Cory to delay assembling a hunting team in response to this alleged karkadann report, and she reluctantly agreed, though she dropped several dark hints that if anyone was killed by the unicorn, it would be on my head.

I resisted reminding her that even if we did send every hunter in the Cloisters after a karkadann, we’d almost certainly have casualties.

“We’ll give Phil and Neil our report,” Cory said. “I think they’ll be pleased with your work here.”