The Ylem (5 page)
Until an earsplitting snap made me jump,
breaking our gaze. I turned and spotted the back of a copper blonde
head.
Chloe
. Had she snapped close her locker door on
purpose? When I turned back, I saw Tristan already moving in my
direction. I opened the classroom and strode inside in a flash,
closing the door with a hasty pull. I went to grab my tote from
beneath the seat and waited a long moment, expecting to see his
figure through the door window.
But I never saw it.
I pulled open the door, scanned the hall and
slipped outside. He wasn’t there anymore. I sighed in relief.
“Come on, honey!” My dad called out through
the window once he saw me crossing the lawn. It was so green that
it looked like something out of an Irish postcard.
I glanced toward the parking lot, and the
relief I’d felt moments ago got stuck in my throat.
Definitely a
postcard
. Tristan was talking with that same friend of his,
leaning his shoulder against what seemed to be his car, a huge
shiny angular thing with the coolest orange metallic color. It
looked like a Hummer, a more compact one with bigger wheels. It had
only two doors instead of four, and though its design could be
easily mistaken for a Jeep, its style was definitely more
aggressive.
He looked really good by its side. A strong
and unique car, just like him. It looked like a scene from a
magazine.
As if sensing my eyes on him, he turned and
looked at me, just for a second. Then, he lowered his head as if
thinking something over, pulled open the driver’s door and slipped
inside. The tinted windows concealed him completely.
I frowned and climbed inside the Escape.
“Hey, Dad.” I said, snapping the door shut behind me.
He studied me, huge question marks spreading
across his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“What’s the matter with you? You
look…stupefied. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about…Rosalind.”
I hesitated. What else could I say?
Confusion hit his face.
“You know, Shakespeare.”
“Oh…” He looked back at the windshield and
pulled us out from the parking lot.
On the way, I couldn’t stop thinking about
that scene in the hallway with Tristan, about the fact that he’d
stared at me for a
long
minute, about the fact that his
beautiful eyes had been sparkling with interest.
Had he sensed that weird, appealing “vibe”
in me that Stephen had mentioned? Or was it mere curiosity? It was,
after all, the first day he’d seen me at school, so feeling curious
about the new girl was entirely normal.
The only thing beyond my reach, however, the
one I couldn’t understand, was
that
connection, that pull.
Something I’d never felt in the past and couldn’t describe.
Something bizarre.
Noyon, France
CALEB
“Could you please tell me again why am seated
on a big pile of dirt instead of a well cushioned airplane seat?” I
said, grasping a small rock from the debris under my thighs. Maybe
the gray wreckage used to be one of the many walls of this forsaken
castle. I turned the rock over in my hands and threw it through the
gap of the heavily cracked wall next to me. I sighed. I still
didn’t understand why we were losing time in the middle of nowhere.
And in France nonetheless. We should have taken the plane from
England and be in our way to the States.
The guy at that fancy church had spoken. We
had the information. The Keeper was in New Mexico—so, what were we
doing here?
“I'm starting to think you spend most of your
time in the moon, Caleb,” said an Italian-accented voice.
I scoffed. “Don’t start with that mooner
shit.”
“Yeah…stop if you don’t want your ass kicked,
Massimo.” Nicolai said. He was leaning against a wall right across
from me, his blond-white hair spiking out in every direction, his
body so tall it made him look like a wire. He straightened and
turned to look at me, the same annoyed expression playing on his
face. “Moyset wants to speak with Gavran. But you know that
already, so stop being a prick.” He leaned back against the wall
once again.
I swallowed back a smile. Nick was good at
hiding his true emotions. Better than anybody. The guy could be a
freaking actor. But I knew him like the back of my hand, and behind
that annoyed mask he was displaying, a maddening anticipation was
swirling inside of him. The way his finger circled around his thumb
told me so. He always did that to calm down.
“If I were you, Nick, I would stay as far
away as possible from that wall you seem to love so much.” I told
him, eyeing the loose limestone bricks behind him.
He shrugged and pulled his foot to the wall,
pressing it against the unsteady surface, as if defying the whole
thing to fall to pieces.
I smiled. “Kind of cliché being here at
night, don’t you think?”
He looked up. “A castle in ruins in the
middle of nowhere?” He studied the ragged frames of the windows.
“Kind of perfect, I would say. Nobody would dare to come around
here.”
Unlike us, creatures of the night. We barely
came out during the daylight hours. Darkness was part of our lives.
But even I had to admit this place was rather eerie. It wouldn’t
surprise me if a ghost from World War One touched my shoulder. “At
least you can see the stars.” I said, looking through the wide,
open space of the ravaged roof.
I loved to see the star-pricked sky, not only
because I was part of that dark shimmering mantle, but because of
pure joy and nostalgia.
“He’s always leading our way,” Ben’s thick
voice said, echoing my thoughts. He was looking at the Silver Star
flashing blue beams of light above us. Nick followed his gaze and
stared, looking with pride not at the star itself but at him.
Balthazar.
I pressed my hand on the back of my neck,
touching the symbol of my second birth, of my guide, of my father.
More than ever, I could feel the sixteen-pointed star burning with
pride and honor, pulsing through my veins a deep sense of belonging
for the first time in my life.
I’d never had a real family during my
nineteen human years. A cold foster home had been the only twisted
version of one, where pain and humiliation came hand by hand each
dreary day. It’d taken me fifteen years to leave that oppressive
cage behind me and build a new life in the streets—a life that with
time had brought me the chance to finally start a promising
path.
Now, I had more than I’d ever wished. I had a
family and a true purpose in life: the freedom of my race. I was
going to accomplish our father’s will by bringing to our race the
freedom it deserved. Soon, very soon…
“He’s watching us,” Gavran suddenly stated,
stepping over the threshold of a murky, windowless room. “If he’s
here with us right now, it’s because we’re meant to be here.
Therefore,” he turned to look at me, “complaining about our
location is questioning our father itself.”
The darkness wasn’t a veil to my enhanced
eyes. I could find a needle in the most pitch-black night. So I
could see that Gavran’s pupils had gotten bigger when he’d fixed
those dark pools on me. He was angry, and he had a right to be. Our
father’s will had been questioned. And I’d been the one who’d done
it.
“He’s coming,” Massimo prompted, jerking up
his head.
The atmosphere was suddenly loaded with sharp
anxiety. We’d been waiting a long time for this moment, and the
curiosity was almost unbearable by now. Talking to Moyset in
person, and not by our usual communication system, meant something
really important was about to be said.
“Ah…Greetings my fellow brothers.” A
long-haired man stepped into the shadows of our awaiting circle a
few seconds later, his stretched arms in salute. “Long time no
see,” Moyset added, tilting his head. He was sporting the same dark
cloak our Lord used, but instead of having the blue embroidered
symbol on the middle of the cloak, Moyset’s was black, like the
everlasting marks on our skins.
“Moyset,” Gavran said, giving him a short
nod. All of us bowed in respect. “How was your journey?”
“Short and uncomfortable,” he grimaced,
walking around the grounds, picking debris with the sole of his
black boots. “You know my low esteem for trains. I still don’t
trust man’s new methods of transportation—even if they look
well-built.” He stopped and looked through the broken frame of a
window. “A horse remains the most practical way of travel. It’s a
shame they’re not used any longer.”
“Yes, but these new ways make human’s life
much easier—in a way you can’t even imagine,” Gavran added.
Moyset turned and looked at him. “You’re
right, Gavran. I can’t imagine how feeding the air with smoke and
strange substances make man’s life easier. Soon they’ll all
suffocate with their own noxious nonsense.”
Gavran grinned. “Do you care?”
“No,” Moyset answered without delay. “I’m
just speaking for old generations that can’t share the word. They
would be ashamed of living in this era. But if humans come to an
end—” His lips crept up into a cold smile “—I can’t stop thinking
on the non-ending possibilities for all of us.”
Gavran and Moyset laughed, and I couldn’t
stop noticing how evil the sound that came out from their mouths
was.
“Then let’s start with our little chatter,”
Gavran told him. “What is so important that you’ve honored us with
your presence?”
Moyset took a few steps forward and erased
the smile from his face. “The Lord’s counselor has spoken. He says
the Keeper is different from the others.”
“His counselor?” Gavran frowned, a hint of
sarcasm to his voice. “Do you believe that li—”
“You’ve made very clear your opinion on the
matter. I do not need your speech one more time.”
“How can you accept all this bullshit?”
Gavran raised up his tone an octave.
Everyone knew what his problem with the
Lord’s counselor was. It was the same problem everyone had. But in
the end, we couldn’t do anything about it. Not even Moyset, who
deep down inside couldn’t stomach him either.
“End of discussion.” Moyset ordered, and at
those three words, which had the power of a king, Gavran looked
away in displeasure. “We’ve abided your attitude for a long time
now, Gavran, and we’ve only done so because you are special to us,
and you know it,” he said, stepping closer, crushing more pebbles
with the thick soles of his boots. “That’s why we’ve confided in
you. Your youth comes as a helpful connection to the nouveau world,
as well as your skills. And you have taken us closer to our goal
than anyone else. We trust you, but we would like this trust to be
mutual.”
Everyone stared at Gavran, waiting for his
response. After a few long seconds of silence, it came with
humbleness, something that took us aback completely. “You have it.
Tell me what you’ve come to say.”
“Thank you brother,” Moyset said with a short
nod. “Our father will be proud.”
Gavran nodded.
Moyset sighed and started pacing around our
circle once more. “The Keeper is different,” he continued. “The
counselor can feel her energy. She has an extra perception, a third
eye, and thus she cannot be overlooked, Gavran, no matter what her
outer shell is.” He paused and raised his gloved finger. “But our
biggest problem may be some other presence dwelling there.” He
turned to look at Gavran.
“A Benandanti?” Gavran said at once. He
wasn’t the only one who was surprised. The worried stares in
everyone faces charged the air with heavy dread. A Benandanti meant
trouble, big trouble. “Well, that’s what I call VIP
information.”
Moyset nodded. “We’re going to send you some
reinforcements to New Mexico, just in case things don’t go as
premeditated.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. My
pack will do. We’re young.”
“It will be necessary, Gavran. Never
underestimate a Benandanti.”
“Okay, okay,” Gavran raised his hands in
surrender. “Whatever you say. A couple of extra hands won’t be
that—” He trailed off. He was looking down at the small plastic bag
Moyset was holding out. He couldn’t help the smile stretching
across his lips.
Deadly nightshade.
It was a very powerful plant. Its berries
were lethal if eaten in big amounts. My brothers, and especially
Gavran, used them to weaken women and have fun with them. The toxic
berries made them lose their balance and blur their vision and,
most of all, dry their throats so they wouldn’t scream. The bag
that Moyset was giving Gavran was full of those berries. And I
could see Gavran’s eyes already spinning with ideas.
“A small incentive.” Moyset told him,
smiling. “Allow yourself some fun.”
Gavran pulled up the bag to his eyes and
stared, hypnotized. “Oh, I will.”
KALISTA
After what felt like five long hours of
shopping at the supermarket, we finally loaded the bulging bags in
the trunk and slipped inside the car. My dad turned on the engine
and then paused for a moment. “Honey,” he said, as if he wanted to
ask something I wouldn’t like. “Would you mind if we stop somewhere
else before going to the house?”
My eventful agenda wouldn’t allow it
.
“Where exactly?”
“An art gallery. It’s just two miles away
from here. I need to go and meet somebody.”
“From work?”
“Not exactly.”
"Sure. Let's go."
The ride was short and the landscape the
same: big green trees and huge mountains instead of soaring silver
buildings and skyscrapers. The only thing that I might have
considered different was a beautiful golf course called
The
Links at Sierra Blanca
, which was a nice change from the jagged
scenery.