“Who?”
“We call them Potters. Fleshcrafters. Unlike Healers, they can force living flesh to do things it wouldn’t do naturally. Sometimes that allows them to repair things that can’t be healed.”
My breath caught in my throat. “They can cure my Mom?”
“That I can’t promise. Few outside their Guild know exactly how their Gift works, or what its limits are. But I’ve heard about them taking on cases like this, so let’s say . . . it might be possible.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Okay. Then let’s call that my price.”
“For the painting?” She smiled slightly.
“That’s right.”
“You do value your work rather highly.”
“No, I don’t. But you do, or you wouldn’t be here.” When she didn’t respond I pressed, “Am I wrong?”
She looked at me in silence, taking my measure. I tried to meet her gaze confidently, even though deep inside I felt the opposite of confident. Finally she said, “The Potters don’t just hire out for odd jobs, Jessica. And there’s nothing you possess that they would value in barter. You would need someone with enough personal influence to call in a favor from them, on your behalf. And given that you’re talking about one of them travelling offworld, which they don’t like to do, it would be a significant favor.” She shook her head. “I just don’t have that kind of influence. I’m sorry.”
I felt my heart sinking. No. No. I refused to give up. To be so close to an answer and yet have no way to make it happen . . . I refused to accept that. There had to be a way.
Suddenly I realized who could help me. Not that she would help me, necessarily. Or that I wanted to ask her for help. In fact, the mere thought of dealing with her made my blood run cold.
Alia Morgana.
She was the one who had ordered Seyer to spy on me. And had put Tommy’s life in danger by lying to the Greys about him, telling them he was the Dreamwalker they were looking for. She was the type of person one should do everything possible to avoid. But what if she had the kind influence Seyer was talking about? What if she could help me hire a Fleshcrafter?
It took effort to force out the words. “What about Morgana?”
Seyer raised an eyebrow. “An intriguing suggestion. She’s the one who’s interested in your art, you know; I’m just her purchasing agent. And I suppose if anyone had enough sway with the Potters to do what you want, she does. But that would have its own price, you know. Apart from your painting.” She nodded back toward the building. “And she’s not going to come to Terra Colonna just so you can bargain with her. You would need to go to her.”
Go back to Terra Prime. I wave of vertigo came over me, like I was standing on the edge of an abyss, gazing down into a bottomless darkness, while the dirt beneath my feet crumbled away. But was the idea truly untenable? Seyer had once referred to me as Morgana’s project, which suggested that the Guildmistress wanted something from me. I didn’t know what it was yet, but maybe if I was face to face with her I could figure it out. Maybe I could leverage it for the favor I needed. Maybe I could do that and get home safely again.
Maybe.
“So,” I said slowly, “if in return for my painting I wanted passage to and from your Guild headquarters—safe passage, door to door, with all the proper documents and clearances—and an audience with your Guildmistress . . . would that be a reasonable price?”
She smiled slightly. “I believe that would be within my budget.”
“And if I wanted to bring someone with me?”
Her expression darkened slightly. “I’ll cover expenses for the ones who were with you before. No one else.”
We took a few minutes to buy fritters and lemonade and then started back. As we headed up the stairs, Seyer opened her purse and took out a business card, which she handed to me. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning for Terra Prime. You can travel with me if you want. Give me a call tonight, and we’ll discuss the details. You can deliver the painting yourself when you arrive.” As we neared the pottery booth she instructed, “Introduce me to your aunt as an old family friend, so we can arrange for the proper cover story. The fact that your mother doesn’t really know me won’t be an issue, given the current state of her memory. No doubt she has forgotten a lot of other friends.”
My heart clenched at the callous reminder of my mom’s incapacity, but as we delivered Rose’s lemonade, I did as Seyer had suggested, and marveled at how easily she slipped into a new role, playing the part of an old family friend to perfection. Truly, she was a social chameleon of impressive skill. I listened as she told Rose about a cabin she had in the mountains, and how she would love to invite me out there for a week. It would be restful, she said. Good for my soul. Rose said she wasn’t sure this was a good time for me to part from my family, given recent events, but Seyer said she’d stop by in the morning to discuss it with Mom, and that was good enough for now.
“Pack for overnight,” she said in a low voice, as Rose turned her attention to her customers. “And leave your electronics behind. I don’t want trouble with Customs.”
“But Mom hasn’t agreed yet—”
She put a finger to her lips, cautioning me to silence. “She will. I promise. So will everyone else. Trust me.”
When she left I was far too agitated to hang out with Rose, and besides, I needed to fill my friends in on what had happened. So I said goodbye to my aunt, and gestured for Devon and Rita to follow me outside the building. There, at least, people wouldn’t be breathing down our necks as we talked about aliens and mindreaders.
As we descended the worn wooden stairs of the mill, I wondered if I had just done something very clever, or very stupid.
“You’re what?” Rita’s tone left no room for doubt about what she thought of my bargain with Seyer.
“I’m going back to Terra Prime.” I tried to say it casually, like you might talk about taking a train to visit Philadelphia. Maybe if I could keep myself sounding calm, the fear swirling in my stomach would settle down. “Round trip tickets compliments of Ms. Seyer.”
“You trust her?” Devon asked sharply.
“No,” I said, equally sharply, “and I trust Morgana even less. But what else am I supposed to do, Devon? Sit home and watch Mom fade away little by little, knowing there are people in that world who could help her?” It’s my fault she’s sick, I wanted to say. So it’s my responsibility to heal her.
Rita was silent for a moment, just staring at me. Finally she muttered. “You shouldn’t do this alone, you know that. I’ll go with you.”
I’d been praying she would say that—hence the relevant clause in my bargain with Seyer—but I couldn’t accept it without challenge. “You just got back from there. You’ve still got bruises—”
“And you shouldn’t be alone with those people. Least of all in a place where if something happened to you, no one back home would know about it.” She raised up a hand to silence me. “Don’t even argue with me, Jesse. I’m coming.”
Relief washed over me. “I would like the company,” I admitted.
“Provided Seyer makes proper arrangements for us to cross over, of course. And protects us from the Shadows while we’re there. Assuming she—or anyone—can do that.” How quickly and easily Rita committed herself to that other world again! I remembered what she told me, the last time we talked about going through a Gate. I’ve got nowhere better to go. With no family or home she cared about, Rita could pick up and leave at will. And while I’d never asked about the intimate details of her upbringing, I knew she came from a challenging environment, and wasn’t the kind of person who expected life to be easy or safe on a normal day.
The thought that I would have her by my side in Terra Prime did a lot to steady my nerves.
Devon shook his head, clearly frustrated. “I wish I could say the same, but it’s not as easy to walk away when you’ve got a pa
rent watching you like a hawk. My dad was pretty shaken by our ‘kidnapping,’ and he’s determined not to let me out of his sight for a while. Just in case any of our assailants survived. I’m so sorry, Jesse. I’d go with you otherwise.”
“Seyer said she could convince my family to let me go. She sounded pretty confident that she could deal with all their objections. Maybe she could do the same with your Dad as well.”
God, it would be good to have him with me. Good to have both of them with me. The mere thought of us going to Terra Prime all together bolstered my spirit considerably.
Hopefully we would all come home together.
Filling Tommy in on my plans didn’t go quite as smoothly as I’d hoped.
“I’m going with you,” he said, folding his arms defiantly over his chest.
I shook my head. “You can’t, Tommy.”
“Why? Do you think I can’t handle myself there? I tricked the Shadows into keeping me alive,” he reminded me. “I kept them thinking that I was the one they were interested in, so they wouldn’t go after you. I even fooled one of them into making their ghost guards leave me alone. Isn’t that enough to prove I can take care of myself?” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “What more do you want?”
I sighed. You’re my 13-year-old brother. The ‘brother’ part of that means I’m supposed to protect you, not drag you into danger. And the 13-year-old part matters. I’m sorry, but it does. Yes, Tommy was a hellishly resourceful kid, and with his background in fantasy gaming he was probably more qualified to explore an alien world than the rest of us put together. But we weren’t going there to explore. We were going to negotiate with dangerous and powerful people, and having Tommy play fly-on-the-wall would only complicate that meeting.
None of which would matter to the kid standing in front of me, of course. All he would hear if I said that was that his sister was going to visit an alien world and not allowing him to come. “I have as much right to go there as you do,” he said between gritted teeth.
But he didn’t. That was the key point. I’d been born in Terra Prime, Devon and Rita also. Discovering that our DNA didn’t match that of our parents had been the first step in that discovery. Tommy was a child of this world, and though that might not matter to us, it mattered a hell of a lot to the people we would be bargaining with. And they were the ones responsible for our safety. I’d already seen how they treated children from their own world, and I didn’t want to think about how they would treat Tommy, who had no intrinsic right to be in their territory.
With a sigh I took him by the arms and drew him near to where I was sitting on my bed. I held him like that for a moment, just gazing into his eyes, wishing I had some words to offer that would make this easier. “What about Mom?” I asked gently. “What if I don’t make it back—or at least, don’t make it back in the right time frame? Because you know that’s a possibility, no matter how well we plan. Losing one kid would be hard enough on her. How would she take it if both of us disappeared, and she never found out what happened to us?” I paused. “It would kill her, Tommy.”
He stared at me for a moment. “Aw, crap,” he muttered. He jerked out of my grip. “Crap!”
“You know I’m right,” I pressed.
He turned from me and stomped melodramatically out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. I shut my eyes and sighed deeply. It was not the way I’d wanted to end this conversation, but at least he seemed to accept the inevitable. One hurdle down.
The rest would be dealt with in the morning.
We watched the fireworks from the roof of the house that night, Devon and Rita and Tommy and I, four world-travelers strung out in a line along the gritty shingles, while a backyard full of adults with beer cans in their hands watched from the property below. The night was misty and warm and the park was near enough to the house that, as each rocket exploded, it blossomed overhead, lighting up the sky from horizon to horizon. It was an amazing sight, invigorating to watch.
But it was also saddening. I couldn’t help but think about Sebastian, who’d fought in the war we were now celebrating. I wished there was some way to bring him home to Terra Colonna, so that he could see the whole country lit up like a field of stars, honoring his victory.
Devon caught sight of a tear forming in my eye and put his hand over mine. We stayed that way until the last of the lights were gone from the sky, and the mist faded into darkness. Then we climbed back in through the attic window to go join the others.
6
SEER GUILDHOUSE IN LURAY
VIRGINIA PRIME
ALIA MORGANA
THE SAFETY LAMPS CAME ON as Morgana entered the underground chamber, providing just enough light for her to make her way to the large circular table at its center. A dozen velvet-upholstered chairs were visible surrounding it, but the rest of the chamber was shrouded in shadow.
Fewer distractions that way.
Morgana walked to the table and put down the two things she was carrying: a golden mask with a length of striped cloth attached, and an elaborately carved box. The mask was in the style of ancient Egypt, regal and elegant, the kind one would expect to find in the tomb of a queen. The box, when opened, revealed a large quartz crystal cut neatly into slices, nested in folds of velvet. Morgana lifted out one of the slices, looked at the Guild sign etched into its polished surface, and then put it back. Not the one she wanted. She inspected other slices, one by one, placing the ones she needed on the table as she found them. Elemental, Fleshcrafter, Obfuscate, Domitor, Healer, Soulrider, Weaver, and of course Seer. Eight Guild sigils in all.
“Brighter,” she commanded, and the fetter lamps obediently increased their illumination. Now patterns etched into the table’s surface were visible, a series of stars radiating out from its center, each with a different number of points. The resulting design was somewhat chaotic, and it took her a moment to isolate the star she wanted. Eight points. Using it as a guideline, she placed her crystal slices at the ends of the rays, so that they were perfectly spaced around the edge of the table. Then she sat down in front of the Seer sigil and checked the time. There were still a few minutes left to go.
It was rare these days that she experienced quiet. Rare for her to be so far away from other people that the incessant buzz of their thoughts and emotions was dulled to a murmur, little more than soft background music. She’d built this chamber far beneath the Guildhouse so that the earth would provide her with privacy—as much as was possible for a master Seer—and now, as she waited for her meeting to begin, she drank in the silence with relish.
A few minutes later her fetter watch vibrated gently. She took up the golden mask and fitted it to her face, smoothing the striped cloth back over her head until her hair was completely covered. Then she reached out and placed her hand on the Seers’ crystal. As soon as she did, ghostly figures began to take shape around the table. Each one was masked, and like her, had its hand upon the crystal fetter corresponding to its Guild.
The first to appear was a Healer, a man wearing a mask of polished silver with a jeweled eye set in the center of the forehead. Right after that a Domitor appeared, a short and stocky man whose fierce red-and-black mask reminded Morgana of a Kabuki demon. Next came an Elemental, whose mask appeared to be carved from ice and crowned in flickering fire. Though the flames danced realistically about her head they brought no heat to the room, and the light they cast did not extend more than a few feet past her fetter. Next, an Obfuscate and a Weaver appeared simultaneously. The Grey was a small man whose mask had a mirrored surface; as he looked around at each of the others, their own faces were reflected back at them, distorted as if by a funhouse mirror. It was more than a little disturbing. The Weaver’s mask was an intricate tapestry with arcane symbols woven into it and more designs embroidered on top of that; despite her exhaustive knowledge of symbology, Morgana didn’t recognize all of them. Next a Soulrider arrived, a tall, lanky
man in a wolf mask, and right behind him came a Fleshcrafter. The latter’s mask was colorful, a bright carnival design that was elegantly human on the right side and twisted and bestial on the left. Morgana wondered which side better represented her true nature.
They all knew each other, of course, but given that their consortium sometimes acted against the interests of the Shadows, it was best to make sure that any spirits who might spy on them wouldn’t recognize the participants. “I’m glad to see everyone could make it,” Morgana said. “Master Grey, would you be so good as to update us on the situation with Luray’s Gate?”
The Grey’s mask hid his expression, but from his posture Morgana guessed that he was surprised to be the first one addressed. He was relatively new to the group, and of lower Guild rank than the rest of them; it was possible he felt a bit intimidated in this company. If so, that was something he would have to get used to. He was too valuable to the group to be cast out for simple social awkwardness.
He cleared his throat. “Things are moving at a good pace, but we’ve still got tons of rubble to move before we can allow access to the main chamber. The Lord Governor has crews working day and night on it, and the Elementals have provided terramancers, but it’s still a monumental task. I estimate another week before we can send someone down to evaluate the condition of the portal. If we find that it’s collapsed or become so unstable it’s beyond practical use . . .” he hesitated. “Then there’s no point in clearing out any more rocks, is there?”
The Weaver spoke quietly. “The Luray portal existed for centuries before the Gate was built to stabilize it. It’s hard to believe a simple explosion would damage it.”
“That explosion took place on the Gate’s threshold,” the Grey reminded her, “and thus did far more damage than an explosion in the chamber would have. We already know that it resonated in other spheres; we can’t ignore the possibility that the portal itself has been damaged.”