Bloodfever
Page 18

 Karen Marie Moning

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We were on the outskirts of the south side of Dublin, on a narrow lane, right next to a very dark, very old cemetery. The last time Id been in a cemetery had been for Alinas funeral.
I closed my hands around the cold iron bars of the main entrance and swept a brooding glance over the headstones.
The pen is a metaphor, Ms. Lane. Drawing lines isnt your prerogative. Its mine. Youre the OOP detector. Im the OOP director. Youll walk the cemetery. Im particularly interested in the unmarked graves behind the church but make a thorough search of the building and the grounds, as well.
I sighed. What exactly is it Im looking for?
I dont know, perhaps nothing. This church was built on the site of an ancient meeting circle once presided over by the Grand Mistress of the sidhe-seers herself.
In other words, I muttered, its probably a wild-goose chase.
Remember the cuff Vlane offered you?
Is there anything you dont know?
Legend has it there are multiple cuffs, each with a different purpose. Legend also has it that, in ancient times, sidhe-seers collected every Fae relic they could get their hands on, and if it proved indestructible, secreted it away where they believed Mankind would never find it. Some say when Christianity came to Ireland, sidhe-seers encouraged the building of churches in specific places, even funded them, perhaps to keep their secrets safely buried on consecrated ground. Laws governing the digging up and relocating of remains are rigidly enforced.
It sounded plausible to me. These sidhe-seers, were they like a club or something, back in the day?
As much as they could be. Times were very different then, Ms. Lane. Communication between enclaves took weeks, sometimes months, but in times of threat, they gathered in preappointed places and performed ritual magic. This was one of them.
Where did all the sidhe-seers go? You said there are more of us out there?
When the Fae withdrew from our realms, the world no longer had any use for sidhe-seers. A once vaunted position became obsolete. Those accustomed to being highly valued lost their purpose overnight. In time, sidhe-lore was forgotten. Over the centuries, talents went fallow. As for where the ones who remain are, the next time youre out, look around. Watch. When you see something from Faery, look not at the Fae, but the crowd to see who else is watching it. Some know what they are. Some are on medication for psychological disorders. Some betray themselves to the first one they see and are killed by it. Its how I knew what you were. I saw you watching the Shades.
Psychological disorders? I tried to imagine seeing the monsters Id recently encountered as a child, having no explanation for them, and realizing no one else could see them. I would have told my mother. Shed have been horrified, taken me for counseling. And if Id toldthe counselor the truth? Drugsa lot of them. I could see it happening all too easily. How many sidhe-seers were out there, too sedated to care what was going on in the world? So this Grand Mistress, she ran things?
He nodded.
Is there still one today?
One would expect the bloodline that directed the sidhe-seers for millennia to have maintained the lore.
That was one evasive answer I wasnt willing to accept. What does that mean? Do you or dont you know if there is one, and if so, who is she?
He shrugged. If there is one, her identity is tightly guarded.
So, theres something you dont know. Amazing.
He smiled faintly. Do your thing, Ms. Lane. You might be criminally young, but the night is not.
My thing entailed making like a brisk vacuum through the church, and when Id finished with the spartan stone chapel, sweeping over the graves, up and down burial lanes, in and around mausoleums, searching with an inner antenna Id not known I possessed, to collect things a few weeks ago I wouldnt have believed existed.
I saved the unmarked graves behind the church for last. I was armed to the teeth with flashlights, although I knew no Shades were here. Where Shades dwell, no night crickets chirp, not a blade of grass stirs, and tree limbs gleam bare and white as old bones.
I expected my stroll through the cemetery at night to be unnerving. I didnt expect to find the hushed world of the human dead soothing, peaceful, but there was an undeniable synergy here. Natural death was part of life. Only unnatural deathlike Alinasopposed the order of things and demanded retribution, a balancing of the scales on a cosmic level. I read the inscriptions as I passed. The epitaphs not worn to dust by time were heartfelt and warm. There were a surprising number of octogenarians and even centenarians interred here. Around these parts, life had once been simple, good, and unusually long, especially for the men.
Barrons waited in the car. I could see him in profile, talking on his cell phone.
Finding an object of power, or OOP, for short, is a talent not all sidhe-seers have. From what Barrons says its rare. Alina had the gift, too, which is why the Lord Master used her.
Dont think I dont see the similarities between us: my sister and the Lord Master, Barrons and me. Difference is, I dont believe Barrons is out to destroy Mankind. I dont think he particularly cares much for Mankind, but I dont think he has any deep-seated desire to see us all wiped out. Another difference is he hasnt tried to seduce me, and Im not in love with him. I have a clear head about what Im doing and why. And, if one day, I learn Jericho Barrons did kill ODuffy for snooping into his life, and is one of the bad guys, wellIll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.