Chapter Sixty-One
Bells
BELLS AWOKE ON A SHIVER, EYES FLUTTERING OPEN TO THE canopy above her.
Her thoughts were muzzy, her mouth metallic, her eyes sticky with tears and slightly swollen from the news about Verin. Part of her wished she’d Seen it. Had been able to be there with him, even if he couldn’t see her, but she’d taken a heavy sleeping tonic that night and Saw nothing.
Swallowing, she pushed up, a headache pressing at her vision. The time on the ornate table clock told her it was ten thirty. The others wouldn’t be back yet.
When she came out into the suite, it was dimly lit and empty. She hurried to the thoroughly locked door and unlocked it, only to dash across scratchy carpet like a spy to the neighbouring room.
Bells knocked, her head tipping up as Callum opened it immediately, still wearing a dark, stylish outfit from earlier in the day.
‘News?’ he asked in that low purring voice.
‘Er – it was interesting.’
‘Just as mysterious as your brother. Let’s talk in your room.’
They headed back inside and when she glanced over her shoulder, Callum was spreading out on the couch.
Bells went to the window to look out over the dark city, all spires and stone. She stroked the sleeping head of the Tène on her wrist that pulsed with a gentle warmth.
‘I didn’t See anything that makes sense.’ She sighed. ‘Another death, another creature calling the Hunt, but this time I woke too soon. Sometimes I think it would be easier, better, to be an Empyreal like the others if I can’t have visions of the future.’
Then maybe she could have warned someone about Verin’s death.
Saved him.
‘Ah, but Seers who See the present are excellent spies,’ Callum said.
Bells supposed that was her mission, now. Espionage …
‘I just wish I could do something more. I wonder why the Empyreal gene skipped me.’
‘You’ve done plenty. You discovered someone else was there the night of your mother’s death. You’ve witnessed the Wild Hunt in action. You’ve helped your brother remember that Alexander killed her.’
Bells gripped the tasselled curtain. ‘But I can’t stop anything. Basically everything I See happens in real time.’
‘You don’t always need to stop things.’
Bells turned. ‘But if I don’t—’
‘Then you watch and listen and talk. Being observant is one of the best qualities you can have. Add a sweet little face like yours? You’d have made a fine spy in my time.’
Histories of ancient Seers and Prophetesses danced through her mind. They’d been politically powerful thanks to their knowledge.
She smiled reluctantly.
Bells came around the couch and sat, leaning close. ‘Did you ever meet Fedelm?’
Callum’s thoughtful expression turned intrigued, amused at the name of the fabled Irish Prophetess.
‘Oh, yes. She was the most powerful Seer of the time and in Queen Medb’s court for a while.
The queen – clever little menace – nabbed her before Kyan’s uncle Conchobar could.
Fedelm foretold the events in the Táin – the battle that Kyan fought in.
She told how Kyan would be Medb’s great barrier to success and the wielder of so much bloodshed. She was never wrong.’
‘But she couldn’t stop it?’ Bells asked. ‘Couldn’t stop all that loss?’
‘Who’s to say she couldn’t? Or didn’t stop something much worse?
There are some ancient whispers that a Prophetess, or those in the Seers’ High Council, can change fate once and only once.
The Morrígan isn’t going to let someone dabble in destiny whenever they please.
’ He canted his head. ‘Probably why there’s only ever one great Prophetess in any generation.
Who knows what would have happened if she had stopped the Táin?
Perhaps Kyan would have been killed and the people of Ulster massacred.
It’s a heavy mantle to bear, to See. To decide what to reveal and what to keep secret. ’
‘Do you know where Fedelm might be? If she’s still alive? Maybe she can help me. Help us. Do you think we could trust her?’
Callum grew thoughtful. ‘I’ve no idea. I did search for a while, worried she’d been “borrowed” by the Wake, despite the Seers’ High Council often being forced to work with them.
Could we trust her? I think so. And depending on how our little apostasy goes here, it may be worth approaching some Seers we can trust.’
‘Do you think they would help us? If one could change fate … that could be crucial.’
Her mind lit with possibilities. She was almost certain she’d come across something like this in their family library.
‘Ah, you’re underestimating the influence of the Wake. Many Seers wouldn’t risk it; not just because such a process could kill them, but also to keep the Wake’s power stable.’
Bells chewed her lip. ‘Well … maybe I will See something.’
‘If you’re not a future-seeing Seer,’ Callum said softly, ‘no training will help you become one.’
No training would, but Bells still had books from their library in the car …
The Empyreal’s smile curled up. ‘Bells, Bells. You’re keeping secrets.’
She blinked. ‘No, I’m not.’
She thought of the stirrings of darkness she’d sensed. Heard?
‘You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?’ Callum asked smoothly. He sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. ‘How were you able to withstand a song of death that should have drained you clean of life?’
Bells thought of the night at the cathedral, the sweet, dark melody of the death string, like a tear through the world. She imagined it: being able to save a life, instead of just passively watching things happening in real time. Watching death … the longing for it made her want to cry.
The gods weren’t here any more, she knew that after Remi’s revelations on the harmony of the spheres. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t call on them and try.
Bells met his gaze. ‘Maybe because Remi is my friend and she held back. Maybe because she wasn’t playing the string. Maybe because I See death all the time, so She chose to spare me.’
The Tène purred on her increased pulse and she patted it anxiously.
‘You, little one, are much more dangerous than you appear. The sense of it swathes around you like a scentless perfume. No wonder your father guards you so closely.’
‘We all guard one another,’ Bells said.
A moment of sensitivity went through Callum’s eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘It reminds me of my family.’
Bells tried not to perk up so obviously. ‘Your family? Who are they?’
There was a flash of hope in Callum’s eyes, as if he’d wanted, craved, to finally speak of this.
It was gone just as quickly. ‘How about some room service? I’ll tell you everything I know about Fedelm.
You know I met a Pythia a few times? Not as crazy as she was painted out to be, and a gold mine of gossip.
Funny too. Hot chocolate and sandwiches sound good? ’
‘Are you bribing me with chocolate?’
‘That depends.’ His smile flashed. ‘Is it working?’ His look was a deal in the dark, a mutual secret-sharing, but it wasn’t a dangerous one.
Her family worried for her so much but Callum was so devil-may-care and so experienced, his charm and ease eased her, too.
Bells smiled slightly. ‘Yeah. But I have one condition …’