Chapter 19 #2
Veda’s heart drops. She can practically feel Hiram’s coils twist tight.
“Don’t stress, little one,” Indica says. “You’ll speak again in time.”
Antaris leans against Veda as they pass through the doors and down the first hallway.
“She obviously attends Clinton’s School of Cryptic Shit,” Hiram mutters.
Blessedly, Antaris doesn’t seem to hear the comment. He steps behind them, looking around in awe. Veda covers her mouth so as not to laugh while passing the kitchens, where two rows of students are having cooking lessons taught by Ami, one of the Council members.
“Today, I’ll teach you how to make sad pie . . .”
Hiram tries to watch, curious, but Veda clears her throat, which makes him move. “Sad pie?”
“Does baking not help when things aren’t going your way? You’re a great cook, but I bet if you’re angry enough, you’ll be spectacular,” she says.
They spot an open door halfway down the second hallway. Ruth sticks her head out first, then steps out. She greets Veda with a warm hug and shakes Hiram’s hand, which is jarringly friendly given the last interaction Veda witnessed. Then Ruth spots Antaris peering at her behind sunglasses.
“I’m afraid you won’t need those to explore space.”
Antaris perks up, giving them back to Hiram as Ruth opens her hand.
The doors open wider so they can look inside.
In the sea of children on blankets lining the floor, there is an empty space near the door.
Ruth offers her hand to Antaris. “Would you like to hear the story about how the stars in the sky came to be?”
He looks from Veda to his father, then nods shyly.
“Good. You’re in for a treat. That spot is yours.”
After Hiram gives him two tangerines and a juice box, Antaris settles in an empty spot, looking around before lying down like every other child in the room.
“Will he be okay in here?” Hiram asks Ruth.
“Safe and sound,” she replies, gesturing down the hall. “Khadijah usually does interactive storytelling as a way to help settle the more restless little ones, but today she’s letting Marlene and the teenagers run the show.”
Hiram looks at Veda, who scans the room and spots Khadijah, back turned as she talks to Marlene. Khadijah does a double take when she sees Veda with Hiram. Marlene peeks around her, a peculiar look flickering across her face before another volunteer stops her to chat.
Khadijah approaches, frowning at Hiram.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“We’ll talk a little later,” Veda answers. “Come by the cottage.”
Khadijah squints at them before slowly replying, “Okay.”
Veda ignores the question in her eyes and points at Antaris. “Can you stay with him?”
Khadijah’s suspicion deepens. “In the four times I’ve met him, he only ever side-eyes me, but of course I will.”
The third volunteer announces to the children that story time is about to begin. Khadijah sits, cross-legged, next to Antaris’s blanket, which earns her the expected side-eye. A spell makes every light in the room draw into the bottle they’re holding, plunging the space into darkness.
A collective gasp rings out. The children start giggling.
A burst of light projects across the ceiling as one of the teens begins a story about the formation of the Cosmos, magic, and how they came into being.
Ruth clears her throat, and Veda and Hiram follow her to an empty lounge overflowing with books and sofas. Ruth sits in an armchair next to a love seat Veda and Hiram have little choice but to share. From the snack-stuffed bag, Hiram produces the photo of the girls.
Ruth’s expression freezes. “Where did you get this?”
“My uncle’s house,” Hiram replies.
“If I’d Seen this, I never would’ve offered that favor.”
Veda recoils. “What’s going on, Ruth? Marlene is in this photo, and the box holding it was labeled Botanist. Is she involved in this? Cosmos, is she the kill—”
Ruth looks at her like she’s gone mad. “What? No! You’re close, but wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
Ruth turns the picture around, pointing at the girl next to Marlene.
“We’re protecting ourselves from her.”
That isn’t what Veda expects. Hiram, either, judging from the confusion on his face.
“Who is she?” Veda asks.
“Her name is Ariadne Byers.”
They exchange looks. “What does she have to do with the Botanist?”
“She is the Botanist.”
The words hit Veda like waves, one conflicting emotion after the next.
Anger. Grief. Helplessness. Disbelief. Each strikes harder than the last. Ruth knew.
She knew and stepped in like a quasi-parent, telling Veda to live while knowing exactly who haunts her.
A hand grips her knee. Veda stares at the onyx ring, then turns.
Concerned blue eyes study her, lips downturned.
It’s too soon to be overwhelmed, practicality reminds her. There’s more to learn.
“How long have you known?” Veda asks, voice stronger, focused.
“That’s complicated.”
“Tell me. Everything.”
“Ariadne was at the same boarding school as Marlene. We took all the teenage Seers in. Ariadne was lonely, clung to any shred of kindness, and supposedly had a rough life prior to ending up at the school. She and Marlene were inseparable, so when Everly adopted Marlene, I adopted her. It took a while for her to open up, but when she did, Ariadne blossomed. She was smart as a whip and charming, fascinated by Omnipotent magic and creative expression. She had such potential.” Ruth sounds like a proud parent. “But I forgot the cardinal rule.”
“Which is?”
“The potential for anything is a thing itself.” Ruth tenses.
“Marlene started opening up about the curse studies they were involved in. She said Ariadne wanted to restart them, which terrified her so badly, she didn’t want to be near her anymore.
I asked more questions and learned something horrible.
Seers can tear the world in two, but most of us can’t curse anyone.
It takes a certain kind of arrogance, detachment, and blatant disregard for others to cast curse after curse for years on end.
Marlene said, and the others later corroborated, that Ariadne was the only one fascinated instead of repulsed by the experiments they were part of.
I realized then that I didn’t save Ariadne—I gave her the chance to field-test what she learned in that lab. ”
Veda feels nauseous, breathless, but the weight of Hiram’s hand keeps her steady.
“I tried to help her. Therapy, distractions, everything. And for a while, it appeared to be working.” Ruth gets up and goes to the window beside them, looking outside, arms folded around her small frame.
All signs of the funny, no-nonsense Ruth who bought vegetables and told Veda to start living are absent.
“I still can’t believe she is this person.
I now know she’s good at pretending, saying the right things to the right people, and weaponizing her trauma. ”
“Ruth,” Hiram says slowly. “What aren’t you saying?”
She turns to them. “What do you know about the source of the Great Vanishing?”
Clarity makes Veda go rigid. “No.”
“Yes.” Ruth wraps her arms around herself. “Ariadne foresaw her own death. This isn’t uncommon; sometimes our visions leave clues about what is to come, but we’re not allowed to meddle, even if it means—”
“You die,” Hiram finishes, toneless.
“But Ariadne didn’t accept this. She changed minor details about her visions, and stopped them from taking place. Not once or twice. We estimate she did it at least ten times before she triggered the Vanishing event.”
Disbelief transforms into anger. Veda can no longer sit still. “Is this what you’re hiding?”
“Hiding? We were forbidden from talking about it. Veda, please—”
“Don’t fucking—” She exhales harshly. “No.” Veda looks out the window, fixating on a single spot to force herself to listen.
“When you meddle with the future, it creates ripples,” Ruth explains.
“Harmless if it’s done once, maybe twice, but if it continues, the ripples spread.
What was once barely a shift in the water becomes a tidal wave.
That’s why we’re so harsh on Seers who meddle with time.
It endangers the world. Every Seer knows this.
Each state’s Oracle Council banded together quickly to figure out who was doing this, and when we discovered it was her, we swooped in and she was arrested. ”
Veda closes her eyes, hoping to stop her head from pounding.
Hiram is the first to speak. “Clinton—”
“He wasn’t on the Council at the time, so he wasn’t bound by the same magic.”
“Why keep this from him? How?” Veda asks, turning around. “You’re endangering yourself. You’re endangering everyone. She hurt thousands of people. My—” Her voice breaks. “My parents Vanished because of her, and you didn’t have the decency—”
“I couldn’t tell you, and Clinton knew far less than I did.
He was on the outside looking in,” Ruth says sadly.
“Mages wanted the truth behind the Vanishings buried because they did not want the public to know the amount of damage one Seer can cause, nor did they want another Seer recreating a Vanishing event. We wanted to prevent an all-out war against Seers. Everyone who knew any shred of information was forced to take an oath. Lucinda was the deponent. She cast the magical agreement, and the penalties for breaking it were harsh—deadly for the Seers involved.”
Hirman leaned forward. “Then how are you sharing this now?”
“The agreement broke upon her death. I didn’t know she made that a caveat, but I had a vision of me speaking to you as I am now, which made me realize that I could.”
“Was it guilt?” Veda hates the shake in her voice. “Did you care about me out of guilt? Because you knew . . .”
“No.” Ruth is earnest, on the verge of tears. “I didn’t need a reason to care about you, Veda. I just did. I do. You remind me of myself when I was younger. None of this changes anything.”