Deceptions
Page 89
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Gabriel’s voice came low, razor-edged. “As it is unwise to target me with your games, Patrick. Particularly if they involve Olivia.”
“I see that.” A grunt, as if Patrick was pulling himself up off the floor. “I apologize for the trick. I believe I did pose it as a hypothetical, and if you misunderstood—”
I shot upright so fast I started falling. Gabriel’s reflexes saved me from that ignoble fate, though I might wish he’d caught me by the arm or the shoulders instead of grabbing me by the collar, leaving me dangling like a kitten. A choking kitten. He released me fast enough, letting me settle upright onto the sofa.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine.” I looked around, getting my bearings. Seeing Patrick watching, I got to my feet. “I think we should leave now.”
“I would agree.”
Gabriel stood between me and Patrick, as if blocking him, while I rose and started for the door.
“Wait,” Patrick said. “We need to discuss—”
“Nothing,” I said. “We need to discuss nothing.”
“I can explain the spina bifida. It’s—”
“One of the side effects of fae blood. One of many, apparently. Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”
“I believe I can shed more light on the subject and what may have happened with your parents.”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I’ll find my answers elsewhere.”
“I can help with Gabriel’s case.”
That slowed my steps, and even when Gabriel murmured, “Keep going,” and I knew he was right, I couldn’t help myself. I turned to Patrick.
“That’s what Gabriel and I were discussing when you were recuperating,” he said. “While I don’t have any answers, I do have a few ideas. Leads, as you’d say. I could pursue them, if you’d like.”
As he said the words, perhaps he realized how they sounded—he’d only help free Gabriel if I agreed to talk. More likely it was the sudden surge of blood pressure turning my face an unhealthy shade of red that made him quickly retract with, “I will help either way, of course. But I’d like to discuss this as well.”
“No,” Gabriel said. “We don’t need your help. Olivia?”
Patrick kept his gaze fixed on me. “As for the fevers, while I’m sure they concern you, Liv, they shouldn’t. Am I correct that none have been as serious as that first one?” When I didn’t reply, Patrick took that as agreement and continued, “Your body is learning to cope with them. As it must. They are a vital part of the process.” A quick look at Gabriel. “The process of you coming into your powers, which benefits you as much as any of us. The visions are a protective mechanism, though they probably don’t seem like it right now.”
“What do they protect me against?”
“Us.”
He waved me to the couch. I hesitated, but if Patrick had won me over with the promise of help with Gabriel’s case, this is how he won Gabriel. He used us against each other, and I could rage at that, but deep down, part of me had to say, Well played, sir.
Gabriel headed into the living room and I followed.
Patrick continued. “The visions are hereditary memories, as you may have figured out. Think of it as a massive repository of knowledge from countless generations. My collection would be a mere shelf in your mental library. The problem is that there are too many books for one person to ever read. Too many memories for you to ever absorb. So you are thrown from one to the next, as you require them.”
“You said they protect me from the Tylwyth Teg.”
“Tylwyth Teg. Cwn Annwn. And every other type and subtype of fae out there, because there are many, and you are valuable to all of them. You can keep Cainsville alive. Or you can let it burn. There are many who would be overjoyed by either option.”
“How do the visions protect me?”
“By showing you truth. Without them, you’re left relying on us for answers. Which we’ll withhold until it suits us. Then we’ll twist answers to our purposes and outright lie if that serves us better.”
“What I saw, about the children . . .”
“A failure of completion. You are correct that it is one of the side effects of fae mingling with human. This form”—he gestured at himself—“is not our form. So procreation with humans can result in a body that is not entirely complete. Even when it happens, which is rare, the effect is usually not even noticeable. Shortened finger joints, missing wisdom teeth, one fewer rib than there ought to be. On occasion, though, it is more serious. In spina bifida, the spinal column fails to form completely, therefore fails to properly enclose the spinal cord. Which isn’t to say that every child born with spina bifida has fae blood. But it is one of the most serious manifestations of the problem.”
Manifestations of the problem. He said it so formally, so abstractly. A child is born unable to walk because a fae chose to impregnate a human woman. That child’s condition is nothing more than a somewhat regrettable side effect. Like breeding cattle experimentally. Eventually, you’re going to get one with a fifth leg, but the risk won’t stop you from breeding them.
I hated their attitude. But did I hate them for it? No. They interbred to survive.
“We’ve confirmed Olivia had this condition,” Gabriel said. “It has been verified beyond any doubt. But you knew nothing of it.”
“I see that.” A grunt, as if Patrick was pulling himself up off the floor. “I apologize for the trick. I believe I did pose it as a hypothetical, and if you misunderstood—”
I shot upright so fast I started falling. Gabriel’s reflexes saved me from that ignoble fate, though I might wish he’d caught me by the arm or the shoulders instead of grabbing me by the collar, leaving me dangling like a kitten. A choking kitten. He released me fast enough, letting me settle upright onto the sofa.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine.” I looked around, getting my bearings. Seeing Patrick watching, I got to my feet. “I think we should leave now.”
“I would agree.”
Gabriel stood between me and Patrick, as if blocking him, while I rose and started for the door.
“Wait,” Patrick said. “We need to discuss—”
“Nothing,” I said. “We need to discuss nothing.”
“I can explain the spina bifida. It’s—”
“One of the side effects of fae blood. One of many, apparently. Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”
“I believe I can shed more light on the subject and what may have happened with your parents.”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I’ll find my answers elsewhere.”
“I can help with Gabriel’s case.”
That slowed my steps, and even when Gabriel murmured, “Keep going,” and I knew he was right, I couldn’t help myself. I turned to Patrick.
“That’s what Gabriel and I were discussing when you were recuperating,” he said. “While I don’t have any answers, I do have a few ideas. Leads, as you’d say. I could pursue them, if you’d like.”
As he said the words, perhaps he realized how they sounded—he’d only help free Gabriel if I agreed to talk. More likely it was the sudden surge of blood pressure turning my face an unhealthy shade of red that made him quickly retract with, “I will help either way, of course. But I’d like to discuss this as well.”
“No,” Gabriel said. “We don’t need your help. Olivia?”
Patrick kept his gaze fixed on me. “As for the fevers, while I’m sure they concern you, Liv, they shouldn’t. Am I correct that none have been as serious as that first one?” When I didn’t reply, Patrick took that as agreement and continued, “Your body is learning to cope with them. As it must. They are a vital part of the process.” A quick look at Gabriel. “The process of you coming into your powers, which benefits you as much as any of us. The visions are a protective mechanism, though they probably don’t seem like it right now.”
“What do they protect me against?”
“Us.”
He waved me to the couch. I hesitated, but if Patrick had won me over with the promise of help with Gabriel’s case, this is how he won Gabriel. He used us against each other, and I could rage at that, but deep down, part of me had to say, Well played, sir.
Gabriel headed into the living room and I followed.
Patrick continued. “The visions are hereditary memories, as you may have figured out. Think of it as a massive repository of knowledge from countless generations. My collection would be a mere shelf in your mental library. The problem is that there are too many books for one person to ever read. Too many memories for you to ever absorb. So you are thrown from one to the next, as you require them.”
“You said they protect me from the Tylwyth Teg.”
“Tylwyth Teg. Cwn Annwn. And every other type and subtype of fae out there, because there are many, and you are valuable to all of them. You can keep Cainsville alive. Or you can let it burn. There are many who would be overjoyed by either option.”
“How do the visions protect me?”
“By showing you truth. Without them, you’re left relying on us for answers. Which we’ll withhold until it suits us. Then we’ll twist answers to our purposes and outright lie if that serves us better.”
“What I saw, about the children . . .”
“A failure of completion. You are correct that it is one of the side effects of fae mingling with human. This form”—he gestured at himself—“is not our form. So procreation with humans can result in a body that is not entirely complete. Even when it happens, which is rare, the effect is usually not even noticeable. Shortened finger joints, missing wisdom teeth, one fewer rib than there ought to be. On occasion, though, it is more serious. In spina bifida, the spinal column fails to form completely, therefore fails to properly enclose the spinal cord. Which isn’t to say that every child born with spina bifida has fae blood. But it is one of the most serious manifestations of the problem.”
Manifestations of the problem. He said it so formally, so abstractly. A child is born unable to walk because a fae chose to impregnate a human woman. That child’s condition is nothing more than a somewhat regrettable side effect. Like breeding cattle experimentally. Eventually, you’re going to get one with a fifth leg, but the risk won’t stop you from breeding them.
I hated their attitude. But did I hate them for it? No. They interbred to survive.
“We’ve confirmed Olivia had this condition,” Gabriel said. “It has been verified beyond any doubt. But you knew nothing of it.”