Page 53

I ran a hand through my hair angrily.

I couldn't pinpoint the cause of this sudden surge of anger, but I was well aware of the growing pressure that had been buildingin my mind for days. Not being able to access my visions left me constantly frustrated, as if I had been disconnected from the most vital part of myself. Then, whenever a shred of the future did break through to my unusually inactive mind, it would be vague and confused. As if viewed through a veil.

Worse even than my lack of magic was the constant bickering with Scion, the never ending barrage of reminders that he had every reason to hate me. I was sure that soon he’d be pushed too far and demand that I leave them be.

But I couldn’t do that. I’d never be able to do that, because ofher.

Lonnie was the greatest Source of my on going frustration. My constant torment, and of course, she had no idea why I wavered between avoiding her at all cost and being unable to stay away.

With an aggrieved sigh, I slumped to the ground, taking a seat on the small stone step outside the back door. I put Grandmother Celia's book down on the step beside me, and then stared straight ahead, my vision swimming slightly.

The alley that stretched before me was littered with trash and debris, and the smell of rot lingered in the air. The cobblestones were cracked and stained with dirt and grime, and several houses had boarded-up windows. It was clear that this neighborhood had seen better days.

I closed my eyes and tuned it all out. I simply needed to meditate, I told myself. I needed time alone to recenter, and I’d be fine. I had to be fine.

I cleared my mind of all thoughts except the desire to see something–anything. It didn’t need to be a world endingrevelation, fuck, I’d settle for some idea of what tomorrow’s weather might be.

After several long minutes of wrestling with myself, I finally latched onto a vision of the very alley where I now sat.

In my mind’s eye, the little healer, Ciara, stepped outside her house and walked down the street, a basket in hand. She turned left at the end of the road, and the image dissipated.

I sighed with relief. It wasn’t an important vision, or even a detailed one, but at least I’d been able to see anything at all.

Focusing harder on the details of the simple vision, I strained my mind for other possibilities. This was a simplistic, but useful exercise—one that my grandmother had taught me in childhood. Every single vision, no matter how mundane, could happen. Most small changes to the future had no effect, however some larger interventions would cause long term ripples that changed the future of thousands.

Once again, I saw Ciara walking down the street, but this time she turned right instead of left. I tried again, and Ciara walked down the street, turned right, then bumped into another woman. The two women exchanged tense pleasantries.

I ran through fifty odd scenarios of Ciara leaving her house, each one more unlikely than the last. In some iterations, I tried interfering. For example, if I went back inside and slit the woman’s throat, she would never walk down the street at all.

Once I’d exhausted every possible version of the future, I sighed in relief. I didn’t care about this street, or the healer or where she might be going, but at least my magic hadn’t completely abandoned me.

My eyes flew open again, looking at the real street in front of me rather than the one in my mind. I felt markedly calmer than I had only moments ago. Remembering the book, I snatched it off the step and let it fall open on my lap. I supposed I could read it out here as well as anywhere else. At least out here, Scion wasn’t glaring at me, and I didn’t have to resist the urge to watch Lonnie too often, lest she become suspicious.

I bent closer to the book, squinting at the first page in the low light coming from under the door.

Without warning,Bael threw the door open behind me, bursting out of the house and nearly tripping over me as he bolted out into the ally. Startled, I watched, as Bael jerked to a halt and doubled over, vomiting across the stained cobblestones of the ally. I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t seen that coming.

I got heavily to my feet and walked over to my cousin. “You alright?”

Bael retched again, then glared up at me with contempt, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the fuck does it look like to you?”

I crossed my arms, leaning back on my heels. Nearly a year ago we’d stood together in the ally only a few streets over, just before I’d allowed myself to be captured. At the time, I’d thought my cousin was too young and inexperienced to be taken seriously, but he didn’t seem that way now.

“It looks like you’re ill. Are you allergic to nettle root or something?”

“What?” Bael said caustically, clearly not remembering the ingredients of the tea Ciara had served.

I shook my head. “Nevermind. What’s wrong with you?”

Bael straightened, seeming temporarily finished vomiting. “Shouldn’t you tell me that?”

I felt a muscle twitch in my jaw with annoyance. “I go back to meditating about it long enough to find out for myself, or you could save us some time and just tell me.”

Bael matched my scowl. “I’ve got a migraine, that’s all. It’s making me nauseous.”

I furrowed my brow. That was obviously bullshit, and at the same time must be at least partly true. He hadn’t lied–indeed, I didn’t think he’d stay conscious through the pain of a lie if his head was already hurting this badly. Yet, Fae didn’t get sick often, and we certainly didn’t get unexplained headaches.

"How long has this been going on?” I asked.