Birthright (Residue Series #2) (7 page)

She was short
and
petite, wearing an abundance of flashy jewelry over a deep blue business suit. Her makeup was dense and the heels she wore
added
five inches
to her slight stature
, bringing her
total
height
up
to
about
four feet. She sternly surveyed this new crop of students
,
as if she were envisioning beating each one with a stick.
Her
thickly-outlined lips opened
,
and I expected her to start screaming. A few others leaned away, already wincing, before she
spoke
a word.

Surprisingly, her voice was hoarse and muted,
sounding like
she’d just gotten over a bad case of laryngitis.

“What’s wrong with her?” whispered a girl behind me.

Another girl responded, with an edge to her voice. “Nothing. Vires took her voice. She’s just now getting it back.”

Without having been told, I knew this newest teacher’s name. Ms. Roquette. I recalled Jameson mentioning her when I’d first met him. Apparently, her punishment for whatever crime she’d committed had come to an end…sort of.

Ms. Roquette was talking still, a sound that resembled wheezing, so I needed to concentrate to pick up every single wo
rd from her. As I listened, what she said
drew me in, intriguing me.

“From air and fire, water and land…energies of our world lend me a hand…
return
my voice this bright mooned night…
if
it must be so…replace it with sight.” 

We watched as her grey eyes drifted upward and to the right
;
I held back a gasp
, realizing
she’d abruptly gone blind. But that wasn’t the only sign.
Emptiness claimed
her eyes
; creating a
void
…
deep, dark, and impenetrable.

As she spoke again, her voice – which was originally so low it was unlikely she could have taught class - jolted everyone in the room.

Suddenly, it
dawned on me exactly what I’d just witnessed. Ms. Roquette traded her sight for
her
voice, redistributing
the
energy from one physical function to another.

Glancing around the room, I found that I wasn’t the only one impressed.
The rapid jumble of words rushing from our professor’s mouth seemed like gibberish until listening closer, which
forced us to focus on what she was actually saying.

I caught up midway through one of her sentences. “…and I’ve agreed. So I’ll be discussing historical figures.”

It took me a second to understand what she was doing
, but I finally
grasped it. She was
speaking
as fast as possible
, trying
to get everything
in
she wished to convey before her ability to speak was taken away. Apparently, displacement of energies didn’t last
very
long. Unfortunately, now she was also screaming. Her shrill voice rang in the back of my ears
,
making it nearly impossible to focus on what she was saying. Thankfully, throughout the lecture, it tapered to a normal range for about five minutes and gradually disappeared
, becoming bar
e
l
y
a whisper. She’d repeat her incantation with various sections of it replaced – “Dark of night and rising moon…listen intently to this witch’s tune…” or “Give me voice on these hallowed grounds…
eye
of bird and claw of cat, fulfill this request and lend me sound” – and then
she was able to continue
her lecture
.
She followed this cycle; though, huffing and rolling her eyes each time her voice began dissipating, it clearly antagonized her, but she fought through it.

During the two hours of class, Ms. Roquette talked about those responsible for the successful revitalization of the Vires, which
also
made the forces what they are today. The words “unscrupulous death squad” hovered in my mind, but Ms. Roquette had better manners than to include that in her lecture.

The revitalization had taken place within our lifetime, invigorating an isolated, disorganized group into a cohesive fighting force
using
rigorous desensitization lessons. I wanted to tell Ms. Roquette that it worked. The Vires appeared to be automated robots
,
and when
given instructions
,
they weren’t carried out because of loyalty to their commanders or honor for their position…they
did it
simply
because they were told to. They even
abandoned
their own family stones
in order
to wear
a
moldavite
,
the true mark of a Vire.

Ms. Roquette rambled on to the next topic,
Phillip Turcott
; this
actually made me stand up straighter and listen
more intently
.

His name
garnered
blank
and
confused stares from the rest of the group
,
because it wasn’t associated with a title and
no one had ever heard of him. He was obscure, an enigma,
sifting
through the strands of communities formed by those in our world. But he had one sole purpose
…discovering
the identities of two individuals. Both were considered
,
by The Sevens
,
to be extremely dangerous.
The first individual he sought
was
dubbed The Nobilis,
and presumably
would be the person responsible for starting a war within the provinces.

The announcement of the second person Phillip Turcott sought
after
actually made my heart skip a beat.

Ms. Roquette was forced to whisper the name, given that her voice was
,
yet
again
,
fading.
Nonetheless, it
sounded
to me as if she
was shouting.

“The Relicuum,” she wheezed,
pausing to recite
an incantation and
starting to speak again.
“The Relicuum, for those unaware, is the person capable of acquiring residue, the supernatural gift of those who are in the process of dying.”

As comprehension washed over me,
I struggled not to show
the alarm I felt going off inside me; though I’m not certain how successful I was.
My nerves
were tugging on
my muscles
,
causing
each one
to
feel
like a rigid tightrope.

My mind was racing
with broken sentences and half-conceived ideas,
but
only one thought landed firmly enough to grasp…Jameson and my cousins had mentioned The Relicuum before
, and t
hey already determined who it was.
They were confident they knew who was able to amass all the supernatural gifts known to our world and who was deemed a threat by The Sevens.

If they were right, Phillip Turcott was out there looking for
…
me
.

As casually as my nerves would allow, I took a peek at Jameson’s reaction. He wasn’t staring at me, as I assumed he might. The Vires in the room – our greatest threat and
the
ones who would gladly hand me over if they knew my true identity – were his solitary focus. The flex of his muscles and the position of his body told me he was ready to take them on. Fortunately, they remained in place, quietly observing
,
as they had
been
the
entire
duration
of
class. Eventually, Jameson’s tension eased and his eyes stopped moving between them to center back on Ms. Roquette.

No one asked any questions about Phillip Turcott and Ms. Roquette didn’t offer any picture
, description,
or likeness of him, leaving me to wonder how
I
would
possibly see him coming before
he
identified
me.

It didn’t matter
though
. I
was
just as concerned about her next subject.

Before announcing him, she paused
,
as if she were gathering her courage. It was the only moment she wasted throughout the
entire
lecture
,
during the times
she was able to speak
.
 
Still silent,
she tilted her head higher and
ardently
began.

“We are honored to have
a
legendary figure here tonight. I would be remiss if he went unacknowledged. Theleo Alesius, take a bow.”

Every student’s head turned in his direction
, and
despite being under their scrutiny
,
he remained
stoic
: unflappable, tense,
and
focused. He didn’t move in the slightest.

“Theleo joined the Vires
when he was just
two years old.
He immediately
excelled in all physical and intellectual exercises, rising above his classmates
.
He was so adept
that an entirely
new,
separate rank was
established
to
foster
his level of capability.”

She’s warning us, I thought.

“
Theleo was
so good that he was naturally
chosen as the very first Praesidio, a guard to The Sevens. In fact, he developed his own force, some of whom you see with him tonight.”

Most of the class, including me,
glanced around at Theleo’s squad, all of whom
maintained
the same composure as their boss.

“Having perfected the art of combative casting, he
is now
sent into the field with an entirely new focus…”

Despite being temporarily blind,
Ms. Roquette
moved her head in the direction where she’d last seen me and said, “He is here to deliver information back to
other
Vires…an emissary to The Sevens. But don’t let his platonic position deceive you. Those who he has been assigned to watch have one thing in common…”

Her voice fell away
…this time suddenly
,
and she rolled her eyes in frustration. “They’re all…” she tried again
,
but it came out a wheeze. Whatever she
was struggling
to tell us was clearly significant.

We waited,
her effort to finish her sentence gripping us.

“They’re all…”
Obviously i
rritated,
she s
lapped a hand to her throat
.

Then
…
unable to overcome
her
last bout of muteness
…
she mouthed the word
…
accentuating it so there
was
no misunderstanding.

I heard it loud and clear.

“Dead.”

Piecing together her final statement, I
turned
cold inside.

Those who
m
Theleo has been assigned to watch
…
are all dead.

Jameson retained his detached persona, acting as if he were listening like everyone else in the room. But I knew better after catching him glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.
A
flicker of unease crossed his expression but, recognizing his lapse, he quickly blinked, swallowed back the emotion, and regained his aloof composure. It
lasted
even after class ended
. He
lingered behind with his family, ensuring that I left safely first.

I was certain he was thinking the same thing I was, the same thing our families were:

Theleo Alesius
is
now watching us.

The notions of all I’d learned tonight cycled in my head until I’d reached Aunt Lizzy’s house, brushed my teeth, and fell into bed. As my cousins quieted down, and after a threat from Nolan to knock Oscar’s head off if he didn’t stop mistaking their toothbrushes, I still couldn’t shake the looming discomfort.