The Breakers Ultimatum (YA Urban Fantasy) (Fixed Points Book 3) (13 page)

“I thought you were dead,” I said giving him a bear hug and sitting him back down. It was then that I noticed the state they were in. They weren’t hurt. They weren’t messy. They weren’t even disheveled.  But how could that be? The sun was three-quarters down the sky. I knew my family well enough to know they’d be inside the house at this time of day. And besides, Chant had practically ensured it.

“You didn’t-How did you get out?”  I asked, wiping my face instinctively once I saw Father’s hard expression.

“Out?” Mother asked, her eyes narrowing. “We were never in. Why would we go into the house when we knew it would be set on fire?”

“What?” I asked, shaking my head. “How did you know that?”

Sevie stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Because she told us.”  He motioned to the left and, following his hand, I saw the crone sitting on a rock at the edge of the field.

“Hey there Blue Eyes,” she smiled, brushing strands of hair out of her face. “We have a lot to talk about.”

The crone sat leisurely, almost lounging as she stared at me, something like daggers and playfulness in her eyes. Her purple dress flowed well past her feet. It was an ornate thing; perfect for someone of the crone’s stature, but it looked out of place out here in the common areas, where plain colored shirts and pants were the norm.

“Bet I was the last person you thought you’d see here,” she chuckled, standing. She was taller than I remembered. Though how was I to know? I had only seen her twice in my life, and she had been sitting both times. She was right. I never imagined I’d see the crone, any crone, outside of a seer’s temple. Times were different now, though. I had seen so many things I never thought I would.  I had watched the end of the world start up before my very eyes, witnessed age old laws be shattered. Hell, I broke more than a few of them myself. This, seeing the crone so far from where she was supposed to be, should have shocked me. But it seemed to fit somehow.

My guards however, they had different reactions.

“This-this is unheard of,” one of the, until now, completely silent guards said.

“I need to talk to you,” the crone said to me, ignoring the guard’s outburst.

“I said this is-”

The crone waved her hand in the air. Whatever she did silenced the guard again. Both their bodies went ridged and they stared off into space, like they were asleep with their eyes open.

“They didn’t seem like much fun,” the crone shrugged. “Wanna take a walk?”

“I want to see my family,” I answered, finally allowing my heart to slow down a little.

“That’s the crone, Owen,” Father said sternly. “You’re not to decline her offers, regardless of how out of place they might seem.”

“You could have died,” I protested.

“And she saved us,” Father answered. “And even if she hadn’t. You will indulge her.”

“We’ll be here when you get back,” Mother said, nodding at me, as if to give me permission to leave them.

I took one last glance at Sevie and then followed the crone. She walked into the fields, into the lines and lines of corn whose upkeep had been a Lightfoot family obligation since before the advent of electricity. The stalks were tall, shooting up into the sky the way they only did when there had been just enough rain. It didn’t take us long to get lost in them.

“The corn, really?” I asked, keeping pace with her and spying the way the bottom of her dress pooled at her feet.

“Is that a question?” the crone asked chirpily.

“It’s an observation. I didn’t peg you as a ‘hands in the dirt’ type girl.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been any type of girl before, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to know whether or not you’re right.” She smiled. “Though I read somewhere that Angelina Jolie found gardening soothing.” She looked around at the crop. “This is as close as I’m ever going to get.”

“You don’t know that,” I said instinctively.

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to Blue Eyes,” she grinned, putting an index finger against her temple. “I most certainly do know that.”

“Did Sevie come to me in that dream?” I asked, remembering how scared he had been, how desperate.

“That’s not the right question. That’ll answer itself pretty quickly, and you only have time to ask me three questions before it happens.”

“Before what happens?” I asked.

“That’s not the right question either. Come on Blue Eyes; ask me the thing that you really want to know.”

“Where’s Cresta?” I asked, knowing without a doubt that’s what the crone meant. Even know, with all that was going on, that was the only thing that really mattered to me.

“She’s halfway to where she’s supposed to be, but not near close enough given the hour,” the crone said.

Okay, so that was useless.

“I just want to know if she’s safe,” I said.

“None of us are safe, Blue Eyes. It’s the end of the world, or hadn’t you heard.” There was darkness to the crone now, a weight that I hadn’t noticed before. “You’ve got two questions left. Better make ‘em count.”

“The thing you told me about Sevie,” I started, and my voice splintered into a really girlie treble. “About how he-“

“Has a part in all of this,” she finished. She was being deliberately vague, but maybe that was for the best. She had seen the way I reacted when she told me her prediction for him, how I freaked out all over her. It wouldn’t do either of us any good to hear it again. Still, it didn’t stop the words from vibrating in my head again.

She had sat there, on her ridiculous crone throne, and uttered the words that shook me to the core. “Your brother is not who he says he is. Your brother is also not who he thinks he is. In truth, he never was. The future will be kind to none of you. But it will be worst for him. When the truth comes, it will devastate him. And, if you are not here to pick up the pieces, the world will see one less Lightfoot.”

“What about it?” the crone asked. “What about what I said?”

“I’m here,” I answered. “I’m here to pick up the pieces, like you said. I just-I gave up so much. I need to know that it’s enough.”

“That’s not a question,” she said.

“Is it enough!” I screamed. “Will there be one less Lightfoot?!”

“Yes!” She answered, screaming herself. “One less, and one more.”

My mind started to spin. What the hell did that even mean? Before I could ask her though, the crone grunted and shook, as though some unseen force had just slapped her in the face.

“Stupid girl,” she muttered.

“What is-“

“It happened already. There’s no more time to dally. Your goons will be here for you in a second, so it’s time for you to ask the big one, Blue Eyes. Ask the third question.” Her eyes leveled at me; those knowing eyes, seer’s eyes.

I thought about asking for a hint, some sort of guidance about what my last question should be. But, like the crone said, there wasn’t much time. She probably wouldn’t be much help anyway and honestly, there was only one question that mattered. It was the one thing that colored every second of my waking (and sleeping) life. The thing that loomed overhead, threatening to crash at any moment and destroy everything I cared about.

“The end of the world,” I muttered, swallowing hard. “Can we stop the end of the world?”

She leaned in, brushing my cheek with her lips. “Oh Blue Eyes, not on your life.”  She leaned back and, giving me a soft smile said. “And unfortunately, not on mine either.”

“Sir, we found him.” The voice from behind startled me. I spun to find my guards, back to their regularly scheduled lameness, standing frantic and disheveled.  “What are you doing out here?” one of them asked. His voice was strained, but I could tell he was working hard to keep his temper in check.

“I was talking to-“ I looked back, but the crone was gone. All that was there was stalk after stalk of corn. “To-to myself,” I finished.

Sighing, the first guard said. “Come, something’s happened. The Council needs you at once. “

“What is it?” I asked, a ball of strain rising in my throat. Cresta flashed in my mind. Certainly they hadn’t found her. What if they drug her back there, bound and gagged, and they were calling for me to deliver the death blow?

“It’s her,” he said, and my heart plummeted. “It’s the crone. She’s dead.”

*************

My mind moved in a thousand directions as I made my way to the Main Square. I moved quickly toward the alley, to the deceptively simple entrance that led to the Council’s sacred chambers. It had been such a production the first time I entered here. Cresta’s eyes, those beautiful eyes, filled with wonder and fear. I did my best not to let her see that mine were filled with the same thing. But now, after everything that happened, it was almost an afterthought.

The doors opened quickly, without incident, and I swept into them, barely even registering how great an honor most of the contemporaries would consider this.

“Chant!” I yelled as though this was my living room and not the area where every decision that affects the Hourglass, and ultimately the world, was made. “Chant what is going on here?”

The room was different this time. The first time Cresta and I had found us in a glorified throne room; I had now stepped into a modest Japanese inspired area. The walls were paper and dotted with ornate decoration. Chairless tables lined the floor, and a narrow running stream crisscrossed the floor.

The three members of the Council, ancient and crotchety Chant, buttoned up and stern Ilsa, and the demented toddler Felix sat cross-legged and staring at me.

“What’s going on?” I repeated, ignoring the extreme changes that had happened to the place since last I’d seen it. It didn’t matter. All of this was most likely shade. It could be changed at a whim.

“Nice of you to join us, Dragon; sit and join your family,” Chant said. Waving a wrinkled hand, shade shimmered in the air, revealing mother, father, and Sevie sitting across from the Council.

I hadn’t seen them when my guards guided me here, but that didn’t count for much. This was the Council. I couldn’t trust what I saw.

“Are they really here?” I asked.

“They are,” Chant answered.

Sevie looked back at me and gave me a half smile. Suddenly, I was at ease. If this wasn’t my brother, then it was a damn good copy.

“The crone is dead,” Chant said as I slid in between Sevie and Mother. Cups of hot tea lined the table. One appeared for me as I settled in.

“I know,” I answered. “The guards told me.” I stayed quiet other than that. I wasn’t sure how much they knew, and there was little point in telling them that I had experienced some sort of posthumous vision if they weren’t’ already aware. There was no telling what they’d do with that.

Sevie leaned into me. “I forgot to say it before, given all that was happening, but I’m happy to see you.”

“Me too,” I answered, brushing my shoulder with his own. “Just stay close to me, okay?”

“Of course,” Sevie nodded. He answered much quicker than he would have a few months ago. Like me, he had come to understand that the Council wasn’t as infallible as we had been bred to believe. Though she hadn’t particularly planned to do it, we both had Cresta to thank for that.

“Did they happen to mention what killed her?” Chan cocked his head. The fact that the other Councilmembers were so silent irked me; like they were completely in tandem.

“She was old. I assumed it was that,” I said, realizing how insane that would have sounded to Cresta if she had still been standing next to me. The crone was twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight. In the outside world that was nothing. Even for Breakers, that was young. But Seers had different rules for everything.

“The prophecies are intricate. When they shift, it can be taxing to those on the front lines. The crone’s powers had almost been exhausted. But even she felt this. That’s how large it was. And it was too much for her frail body to take.”

The blood chilled in my veins. Shifted? How had it shifted? I wouldn’t allow myself to think that this might be a good thing, that Cresta had been deemed ‘not the Blood Moon’. I knew better than that. Fate didn’t work like that. This shift, it would be to something even worse.

“Have you ever heard of the Damnatus,” Chant asked solemnly.

“No,” I said instinctively.

“The Damnatus is-“

“I know what the Damnatus is,” I interrupted. “I mean no, this isn’t happening. The Damnatus is out of play. That end was ruled out years ago.”

“Things have changed,” Chant answered. “It’s back in play. The crone-“

“The crone was wrong. You said it yourself. Her powers aren’t what they used to be. She must have had some sort of relapse of an old vision. Certainly that’s happened before,” I said flatly.

“It certainly has not.” There was acid in his voice now. “And, though you neglected to allow me to finish my sentence, I’ll inform you that it did not end in a question mark. The Damnatus is in play. The Council has reviewed the evidence and confirmed it.”

“That end is gruesome. Cresta isn’t capable of that.”

Ilsa sighed, as though she had been waiting for me to say something like that. “You assured us he had been broken of this way of thinking, Chant.”

“It’s a process,” Chant answered, his eyes burning into mine. “Regardless of what youthful exuberance tells you, you know nothing of the way the world works, Dragon.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “But I do know about Cresta. That knowledge, knowing how she works, the way she thinks, it could be useful to you.” I was lying, of course. Nothing in this world could have made me turn on Cresta. Nothing. But I needed to get them on my side. I needed to know what they were thinking, what moves they were planning so that I could do my best to shut them down.

“And perhaps if you’d have come to us earlier, we might have used that information to sidestep this whole mess. We may have even been able to spare your little girlfriend. Alas, that time has passed now.”

He was lying. I knew that, but maybe my parents didn’t, maybe Sevie didn’t. I opened my mouth to rebut him but was silenced by Felix.