Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10) (13 page)

Trials had been moving slowly since the end of the Nocturn War, and they had saved the more important trials for last. Camilla probably thought hers was the most important trial of all, since Cynthia Malle was dead and Professor Erikson was not being tried (so said Lisabelle, who was the only paranormal who knew where she was). As far as I knew, paranormal trials worked like this: Someone accused of a crime went before a judge and a board of three. The judge’s vote counted for two, while each member of the board’s counted for one. The judge needed one of the board members to vote with him or her, or else all three of the board members had to vote against him or her. All paranormal judges were appointed; none were hired and none were elected. Judges for trials were chosen based on “practicality” and a “lottery,” for which each senior paranormal had to enter his or her name. Each paranormal could be called on not more than three times in a lifetime to coordinate a trial or offer a solution.

“So, what about Camilla’s trial?” I pretended to be simply musing, but I was hoping to hear what these powerful paranormals thought her prospects were. Camilla Van Rothson was one of the most hated paranormals who was not darkness. She had had no scruples about trying to kill her peers during the Nocturn War, and before I ran away, my sister had mentioned that she was in prison, put there by her ex-boyfriend Cale. I hadn't thought about her trial while I was traveling, but now, apparently, the trial was upon us. I wondered what Charlotte thought about it.

“What could they do with her?” I asked, when no one answered my first question.

Lisabelle rolled her eyes. “They are doing precious little to punish most of the paranormals who have been charged.”

“They don't really have a choice in the matter,” said Sip. “It’s not like our jails are in very good shape.” The paranormal police academy had not been designed to churn out soldiers, and its recruiting efforts had hit the limit of available paranormals.

“You mean the jails are understaffed?” I asked, and Sip nodded.

“There are only three,” she said. “One for minor crimes, one for medium crimes, and one for the big ones. Unfortunately, all the crimes committed during the paranormal war are being treated as major crimes, so the system is stretched far beyond its limits.”

“So that jail is already full?” I prodded

Sip nodded. “Charlotte’s been trying to help shore up the defenses, but she can only do so much. We can all only do so much.”

“Except for me, whose powers are limitless,” said Lisabelle.

I wasn’t sure if she was kidding. She twiddled her thumbs, but she didn’t smile, so the message seemed mixed to me. Sometimes I wondered if Lisabelle knew how to deliver a joke properly at all.

Professor Dacer had been silent for a long time, but now he said, “The best case scenario at this point, honestly, would be to have Camilla released to the custody of her family, and to require them to follow a directive to keep her locked away for a certain number of years.”

“Do you think that would rehabilitate her?”

“Ha, haha, ha.” Lisabelle looked amused for the first time since she had come to get me. Looking around at our blank expressions, she shrugged. “Oh, that wasn’t funny?” she said, her voice edged with sarcasm. After a few seconds of silence I started to feel like I wanted to be somewhere else again.

“Ricky, we have government stuff to discuss,” said Sip. “You’re welcome to stay, but I don’t want to bore you.” None of them looked like they had ever been bored. I felt sure that if Dacer were ever bored, he would start designing very fancy and flashy outfits in his head and dream about how to color-coordinate his hair. At the moment his head was wrapped in a sort of turban, and I wondered what was going on with his hair that he didn’t want anyone to see.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, pushing myself up from the table. The garden was peaceful and quiet, with only the sound of the wind and the occasional insect to break the peace. I liked it there, but I needed to think, and in truth I expected I
would
be bored by a conversation about high governmental matters. It might seem like I would be eager to be allowed into the inner sanctum, but I had learned after the war that there was no glamour to it, only boring hard work. Anyhow, none of the others had tried to convince me to stick around indefinitely, which is what I had been expecting and dreading, so I was just as happy to go off alone and consider my options. I needed to see Charlotte - I missed my big sister. But I had left for a reason, and nothing the others were saying had given me much confidence that there was any point to coming back.

“You’re welcome anywhere on the grounds,” Dacer yelled after me as I trudged away, “and there are several lower floors that you might find of interest.”

Dacer’s private apartments were off limits, which didn’t surprise me. A paranormal as eccentric as Professor Dacer needed all the privacy he could get.

Instead of going back into the house, I decided to enjoy the chance to go for a walk in safety for once. It had been a long time since I’d been anywhere other than a stuffy city, and I wanted to walk in the fresh air for as long as possible. I had a lot to think about.

What my thoughts kept coming back to, though, was not my own situation but the fact that Professor Dacer’s usual flamboyant personality was very subdued. I had no idea why, but like Sip and Lisabelle coming to rescue me, it was a clear sign that something was wrong, and I wished I had been more assertive in asking everyone to tell me what it was. Maybe it was just his mother, or maybe it was more.

Lisabelle had always been hard to read, but I had seen enough of her to know that she could be standing at the base of an erupting volcano and still take time to argue with Sip. The paranormal president was almost as difficult. Things that mattered to Sip mattered
a lot
. It was all a big deal, so it was hard for me to gauge when something was truly dire by ordinary standards.

This entire thought train had gotten me no further than the front of the house, where I now stood debating whether to seek out the stables and the horse that had brought us to the castle. Then, in the silence, I heard something overhead. I looked up and saw a shape flying high above, and I knew instantly who it was.

“Charlotte!” I yelled, waving my arms and grinning. “Charlotte!”

My sister, my one and only sibling, had arrived.

My older sister, Charlotte Rollins, was known as the last elemental. Over the years we’d endured a lot, about as much as any brother and sister could. For starters, I had thought that a man named Carl was my father, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Carl was
not
my father, and the fact that he had nevertheless loved me like his own son - had given his life for me in the end - was just one of the many things I had been struggling with for years.

Right now, though, all the difficulties paled in the face of the sheer happiness I felt at seeing my sister again. As she landed, I waved to her and watched two large birds melt back into the clouds.

“You look like you’re about to burst,” I said as she wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m so happy to see you!” she cried. “Gosh, I missed you.”

“You missed me so much you want to cut off my airway?” I asked, only half kidding.

“Sorry,” she said, loosening her hold a bit.

“Where are Sip and Lisabelle? With Dacer? I bet they’re talking shop. Never a dull moment, that’s what I say.”

“Break for air,” I told her, putting my hands on her shoulders.

She laughed. “I’m just so excited to see you!” she cried, then she visibly collected herself and calmed down a little.

“It’s fine,” I told her, because it was. In that moment of first seeing my sister again, everything was fine. In fact, it was better than fine.

“Thanks for coming,” she whispered, her gray eyes searching my own. I didn’t know what she saw there, but her expression pinched a little. Whatever she had seen, it did not ease her mind. “Anyway,” she said, fluffing her curly brown hair, “shall we go for a walk?”

“Don’t you want to let your friends know you’re here?” I asked. “And where’s Keller?” Charlotte’s boyfriend had been her constant companion since the war. He had told his parents off, shirked any and all fallen angel responsibilities, and devoted himself entirely to Charlotte.

“He couldn’t get away from the clinic, there’s always so much to do,” she said. “But he sends his love. He can’t wait to see . . .” Then she stopped. I knew she was trying to avoid implying that we would see each other, and given the state I had been in when I left I couldn’t really blame her. “Let’s walk before we say hi,” she said after an awkward pause. “They know I’m here anyway, so I’m not worried.”

I nodded and glanced back at the house just in time to see Zellie stepping away from the curtain.

Charlotte didn’t seem to notice; she wrapped her hand around my arm and we started off down the drive. “Just two Rollinses out walking together,” she giggled.

“Have you been back to Maine?” I asked. Mom’s grave was in Maine, overlooking a hill and our old house. Charlotte shook her head.

“I can’t go there if you’re not there,” she said. “The house is for sale, actually.”

“What?” I choked. The house we had grown up in was for sale?

“Did you want to live there?” she asked, sounding a little concerned.

“No, I don’t,” I said. “But where’d you get the idea I wanted you to sell it?”

She shrugged. “Something about how you hate being an elemental and you hate that house and you’ll never set foot in it again even if it’s the last thing you have to do. Did I paraphrase that alright?” She glanced sideways at me. Her hand was still lightly on my arm, but the ease between us was ebbing already.

I looked around. The driveway was surrounded by trees that overhung the road, ensuring a lot of privacy for Dacer’s estate.

“Yeah, something like that. Okay, you’re right,” I said.

“Your friend Peter moved away,” she said.

That was true. My best friend was Peter, and he didn’t live there anymore. “Peter’s family didn’t want us to know where they went,” I said quietly. “They seemed to think I would follow them, and that whatever madness my life was about would get Peter hurt.” My jaw tightened. I remembered the look in Peter’s eyes as he’d come over to tell me. He hadn’t wanted to come near me, and then he had literally run back home, as if I was going to curse him if I kept looking at him.

Peter’s hatred had pierced me; the very look in his eyes had hurt.

My sister could see from my face that I was working something out, and she just kept walking quietly alongside me. Although I didn’t want to upset her, I felt like the news about the house being up for sale was just one more thing that would sever my ties to my old life and allow me to travel wherever I wanted, without the pressure of the paranormal world weighing down my shoulders.

“I’m sorry about Peter,” she whispered.

“Me too,” I said. More than ready to change the subject, I cast around for another topic. “How’s teaching? Are you a full-fledged professor now?”

Charlotte beamed. “My final examinations are at the end of this year. If I pass those, I’ll be a full professor at Paranormal Public, and nothing would make me happier. Dacer’s really proud, so is Keller. It feels great to be doing what I’m doing.” She sighed and I watched with pleasure as some of the tiredness in her face seeped away.

“There’s a ceremony,” she said, then she stopped.

I rolled my eyes. “You can invite me to the ceremony,” I said. “I might even come.”

“I just don’t . . .” she bit her lip. “You were so angry when you left.”

Her eyes swam with tears and guilt threatened to engulf me.

“Charlotte, stop,” I muttered. Then I grabbed my sister around the shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. I was taller than she was now, and her head fit comfortably on my shoulder. Her fuzzy brown hair tickled the sensitive spot under my chin and I almost smiled.

She snuffled a little and said, “I just want you to be happy. I was so upset when you left. I just want you to know that your happiness is the MOST important thing to me.” I appreciated her words, but I knew the situation just wasn’t that simple. Time for another subject change.

“So, Keller’s off at the clinic. Is there other news?”

“I miss Lough,” said Charlotte. “I know I’ll see him again, but it’s hard not having him around. Rake is a artifact hunter working for the government. His conversation with Sip when he started was pretty funny, since obviously everyone but Sip knows he’d do anything for her. She called him into her office, the office of the president, all official. He came thinking he was in trouble and that some of her advisors must be angry with him. He was working security at the time, but I guess Sip had been getting all these reports of how awesome and helpful he always was. Besides, he was determined and smart and he’s massive, all good characteristics for artifact hunters. He’ll get the job done and not be messed with while he’s doing it. Anyway, He came and Sip offered him a promotion. She put him in charge of all the governmental artifact hunters, of which there are many at this point.

“He was shocked. He had thought he was in trouble and that if Sip had something to tell him she wouldn’t do it in an official capacity, because they’ve known each other since college. I also don't think he even knew that was a job he could have. He was so mad at her. She was all timid and if you want this you can have it and he was all, if you want me to have it I’ll have it, which is not a concept she understands at all.” Charlotte giggled again, thinking of her two friends’ attempts at communication.