Savior (12 page)

Leaning to one side and made of slender branches and reeds, it was assembled as best it could be, given the limited resources of the surrounding area. The only thing setting it apart from the nearby dwellings was the living being standing in the doorway.

She was older and frail, most likely somewhere in her nineties. Her paper-thin skin hung under her eyes and draped over her delicate arms. Her movement was slow and precise.

Oddly, she seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her.

Having seen my reaction, William leaned in, keeping his voice low, and revealed the source. “Wanted Notices.”

I turned to give him a quizzical look.

“You’ve seen her on Wanted Notices from The Sevens. A few of the posters were accidentally distributed outside our world and she became the original likeness of a witch.”

“Ah,” I mumbled, evaluating her closer.

Her hair was a frizzy mess, twice the size of her head, sprawling down her back like something threatening to consume her. Her nose was stereotypically curved like all caricatures of witches I had seen when I was younger. She wore red and white striped stockings peeking out from beneath a black dress that hung to her knees. In her hand, she carried a black, pointed hat. The only thing the other world had gotten wrong in their renderings of her was the lack of a family stone. She wore a sodalite on her wrist.

Showing she was no longer interested in being the topic of our discussion, she easily drifted through the door and disappeared into the shadows but not before beckoning us to follow her.

Inside, she paid close attention to Theleo as he took a place near the door. She examined him intently, but did not voice her thoughts. I wondered if she recognized him as a Vire even without his moldavite stone. The fact he was a Vire prodigy was well-known enough.

Theleo didn’t seem to notice that she was paying attention to him. The bug crawling up the doorway took precedence. He gingerly plucked it off the jamb and placed it in the pocket of his cloak.

“Giorgia,” William addressed the woman as we came to a stop. “I’d like to introduce you to-”

“Thank you, William,” she said, her Italian accent thickening. “No introduction needed,” she replied, almost methodically, before turning to Jameson and me. “This has been expected for some time.”

Tottering over to the only piece of furniture in the room, she sat down on a bed that looked as if it had more bumps than smooth areas. I took the time to assess her dwelling and got the impression this prison was worse off than ours.

“We make due,” she said. It took me a moment to realize she was noticing my expression and was reading further into it.

“I…” I began, allowing my voice to fade at the realization there were no words of substance that could support my thought. She appeared not to care, instead lifting her eyes to us and observing us openly. “Finally, you have arrived….”

“We would have been here sooner if we’d known.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied, perceptively. “William had some difficulty leaving us once the Vires arrived, no? Not to be blamed…Not to be blamed. Best Officer we have had. That is not what I meant. This meeting…I’ve known for some time would take place.”

She noticed Jameson and I exchanging a questioning glance and addressed us directly.

“You have begun to visit the prisons, no?” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, as if she already knew the answer, she continued. “The prophecy is unfolding. You were to arrive at some point.”

It was Jameson, with his advanced ability to reason, that picked up on the insinuation.

“You know about the prophecy?”

She sighed. “Not enough, I’m afraid. Not enough.”

“How much do you know?”

Her gaze deepened, becoming somber. “I have seen the records.”

In our excitement, Jameson and I marched forward, stopping just a foot from her.

“Have you read them?” he inquired, his forehead wrinkling with critical interest as he questioned her.

“A part.”

“That’s why she’s here…imprisoned,” William interjected. “The Sevens separated those who have seen the records, making it harder to piece together the future.”

The magnitude of this news amplified my shock, causing everything but my mind to go numb. Of course The Sevens would take that action, I thought, leaving those sources alive in case the records were ever damaged, lost, or stolen.

Because of my surprise, my question that followed came out no higher than a whisper. “What part have you read?” I sounded desperate, a result of one section in particular capturing my interest, the part about The Relicuum taking the life of The Nobilis.

She glanced at the door, the only way we could be overhead. Or, possibly, she was evaluating Theleo again, wondering if what she was about to say would be safe in his presence. After a long pause and apparently overcoming her inhibition, she went on to explain the part she had seen in a way one does when they leave a room silent with tension.

“I was given the earliest recording, the start of the rest. In it, the first channelers saw not only the future as it must be, but the future that would exist if you, Jocelyn, were to reject your role in it. You have been questioning it, no? The first channelers saw that you would. Your yearning to leave your responsibilities is so great, so strong that it left them unsure of the path you would take, so they traced both paths. I was given the one you rejected.”

Whether it was the sadness in her eyes or pure instinct, I couldn’t be sure. I just knew what she was about to tell me would be devastating. My muscles tensed. I was bracing myself as if I were running full speed at a wall without the ability to stop. My mind went blank, unable to detect anything other than the sound of her voice. Suddenly, it felt like I was seeing her at the end of a long tunnel which nothing else could breach but the words she spoke.

“We suffer complete annihilation. The world, as we know it  - gone. Families torn apart, forced into slavery to carry out The Sevens' will. Entire cities in flames, widespread death, leaving a trail of burnt bodies. All hope is lost.”

As she went on, I couldn’t be sure how long I stood there. Time was inconsequential as images of the devastations she recounted took full control of my awareness.

I felt sick, my stomach having tightened from the reality of her warning.

There was no way out, no recourse, no solution, no sidestepping my duties. There were two paths: either millions would die…or the love of my life would die. The sarcastic side of me wanted to ask what was behind door number three. The somber side allowed this new reality to sink in. But the strongest part of me knew this was my wake-up call, my fair warning, the unavoidable writing on the wall.

“Jocelyn?”

Hands grasped my arms, tender but firm.

“Jocelyn?” the voice sounded more urgent now. It was one I knew so well, one I counted on. My body leaned toward it as strong arms came around me. “Come back to me, sweetheart.”

I blinked several times, clearing my stagnant thoughts.

“That’s it,” he coaxed. “That’s it….”

Finally, the air rushed into my lungs and I was able to move again. My chest rose, my mind began to stir, and my body began to shake.

I exhaled, carrying with it a single word. “Jameson…,” I locked eyes with him, taking comfort in his calm resolve even as my body shuddered.

“So you
were
planning on giving yourself up to The Sevens…,” he mused, not at all encouraged by his revelation.

“Give yourself up?” William blurted.

“To stop the attacks on the prisoners,” replied Jameson, never taking his eyes off me. Then he spoke to me…only me. “Always, if it’s not me you’re trying to save then it’s someone else.” He drew in a deep breath and smiled genuinely at me. “So now you know what I was about to say before we descended so quickly that I wasn’t able to finish.” He steadied his gaze at me. “You can’t give yourself up, Jocelyn. Too much is at stake.”

“B-But you knew?” I whispered. “How did you know…what would happen?”

“I used reason. Although, I wasn’t absolutely sure. Not until now.”

He turned back to Giorgia, still keeping his hands on me in case my body once again threatened to faint. “There are a few things I don’t understand, though.” Without waiting for her to consent, he asked, “How were you able to read the records? I would think The Sevens keep them well protected.”

“And they do,” she assured. “The channelers made two sets, one always kept at the ministry, and after some time, the second carried as far from the ministry as possible. The thinking was: separate them. It would be safest. The second set was secured by a contingent of Vires given the responsibility of guarding it with their lives.” She paused and, once again, pinned her gaze on Theleo. “I was within that contingent.”

Theleo swiveled around to face her, meeting her eyes, and telling me with absolutely certainty that her interest in him had all along been because she knew
who
, or rather,
what
he was.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” said William, reeling from Giorgia’s confession. The next question came out in an upset rush. “You were a Vire?”

She dipped her head in a slow nod, neither ashamed nor proud.

“But you wear a sodalite stone,” he countered.

“One I never relinquished.” This time she was proud. “I carried it with me…hidden beneath my lapel…even as I wore the one denoting my allegiance to The Sevens.”

Laughing quietly from across the room, Theleo opened his cloak and lifted the lapel of his Vire uniform. There, pinned to the underside, was a smoky quartz stone.

A smile danced across my face…and mine wasn’t the only one.

Jameson, who seemed the least flustered, stated, “Giorgia, that doesn’t explain how you were able to read the records.”

She let her head fall to her chest as she grinned at the memory of it all. “Ah, yes, that….” She chuckled to herself at a seemingly private joke and with her head still down, she explained, “You weren’t the first Dissenters. We were, the five Vires in my contingent. We opposed The Sevens order, each of us taking one scroll before disassembling and deserting.”

“And that’s why you only saw a part of the future because you each only had a part,” I muttered. “And it’s why you ended up imprisoned. They hunted you down, didn’t they?”

The lift of her head to a position of satisfaction told me that I was correct. “Every last one of us.”

“And why didn’t they kill you?” asked William, bluntly.

“Uh, you call it insurance, no? We destroy the second set, The Sevens keep us alive.”

No one spoke, each of us understanding the impact of what Giorgia was recounting.

“And the others…,” said Jameson, who hadn't finished with his questions. “Do you remember the names of the others in your contingent?”

She gave him a sad, thoughtful smile.

“They can tell us what to expect from The Sevens?” Jameson was clearly thinking defensively now.

“They must have read them. How could they have resisted?”

He exhaled with relief. “Who are they? What are their names?”

“Braith.”

I flinched. The name was too unique not to be recognized. “He has a scar down one side of his face?”

“Yes,” she replied, again in reflection, that sorrowful, longing smile remaining in place. “Yes, he is the one.”

“Of course,” I exclaimed. “He knew my ability to heal…and your ability to channel…remained intact in the prison. How else could he have known that?”

“Unless he saw another part of our future that showed we never lost our ability in the prisons,” Jameson said, finishing my thought.

“Isadora…,” Giorgia continued, seemingly oblivious to the discussion between Jameson and me.

“Isadora?” I uttered, puzzled, catching Jameson’s eye. He seemed to have the same reaction as me. “Was she Creole?”

“She was,” Giorgia replied, casually.

My thoughts drifted back to the conversation Isadora and I had in the village hospital, when she recounted the reason why my mother had truly sent me away to school. Isadora had let on that she knew more than she was telling back then. I had picked up on it but hadn’t pressed her on why. It didn’t matter anymore because now I knew. Isadora was a Vire. The reality of it seemed so surreal.

My attention was back on Giorgia by the time she finished her list. “Maleko and Kalisha were the last of us.”

“Is there anything else you can remember?” asked Jameson, so engrossed in the discussion he didn’t bother to be excited.

“Maleko was Polynesian, his name meaning defense. Kalisha was African; her name meant sorceress. We all came from different backgrounds. Kept us loyal, no?” She snickered and answered her own question, lacing it with sarcasm. “No….”

“Giorgia,” said Jameson, stepping closer, his voice softening for the first time. “Would you like to see your old contingent again?”

Her eyes lit up, seeming to add years back onto her life.

“We’re gathering them in the prison outside New Orleans,” he explained. “Partly because of the war The Sevens have brought to us, but also because we’re going to need to compile those records again. And you’re a vital piece.”

“I am?” she asked. “You are?”

I held back a grin, delighted by her astonishment. It made sense she wouldn’t know about Jameson assembling everyone. Clearly, she had one of the earliest records.

“Come with us,” I urged.

She only had to begin to stand and William and Jameson came to her side.

“I have her,” insisted William, giving me another indication that Officers were sympathetic to the needs of their prisoners.

Jameson agreed and we turned to leave, but Giorgia's voice stopped me, posing a question I hadn’t expected. “You still no remember me, no?” She contradicted herself, so I didn’t quite know how to answer her. “Your mother brought you here as a child, no?

I stared at her for a moment.

She broke into a grin, without saying a word.

“I-I do….” And it wasn't just from the Wanted Notices.

“You’ve met?” asked Jameson, perplexed.

I leaned slightly toward him, too giddy to turn entirely away from Giorgia. “When I was a little girl, my mother would bring me on trips during holiday breaks. She had me meet people throughout the provinces. But I-I didn’t remember being here. The destruction left by the Vires…I just didn’t recognize….”