A Twist of Fates Read online

  Our lineup ended up being: my parents, Ibrahim, Corrine and Arwen, Rose and Caleb, Vivienne and Xavier, Lucas and (tentatively) Jeramiah, Kiev, Claudia and Yuri, Gavin, Zinnia and Griffin, Micah and his wife Kira, and finally Aiden and Kailyn. River, Orlando and the rest of our family opted to stay with Grace.

  I felt that this was an excessive number of people simply to visit The Sanctuary…but looking at our previous track record, it was rare that anything went “simply” for us when undertaking a mission in the supernatural dimension. There was no harm in bringing more people than we needed, just in case.

  We gave everybody half an hour to prepare, and then we were all to gather at the Port.

  Lucas

  Since Ben had returned me to The Shade to be treated for my injury, even in spite of all the madness going on with Grace turning into a Bloodless, Marion and I found ourselves gravitating toward each other, wherever we happened to be in the hospital.

  Now, before our departure for The Sanctuary, I had something to do. I’d told Ben and Derek that I would ask Jeramiah if he wanted to accompany us. This time, I would give him the option. He was an adult and it was shameful of me to keep trying to protect him like he was a boy by keeping him out of the loop.

  As I headed out, I mysteriously found myself passing Marion again. She was sitting on a bench in the hallway, rocking her baby’s cradle back and forth as she slept. With all the focus being on Grace, Marion had been pretty much sidelined. She looked lost, as though she didn’t know what she ought to be doing or where she ought to go. She probably wanted to be of help in some way but didn’t know how to go about it. As a human, she was only an encumbrance right now here in this hospital—she shouldn’t be anywhere near Grace.

  I had lost track of how many days she had been in the hospital. It must’ve been quite a few. As pleasant as Meadow Hospital was, it wasn’t a home. She had a child. She ought to be given her own residence somewhere else on the island now that she and her baby were recovered.

  Since I couldn’t spot anybody immediately available who could take her to find some temporary accommodation, I had my own idea. An idea I hoped she wouldn’t take the wrong way…

  She looked up, wide-eyed, as I approached. I bent down to her level. “Marion,” I said, above the bustle of the corridor. “You need to go somewhere else than here.” I found myself assuming a rather stupid French accent, hoping that it would make my English words more understandable to her. “You need your own room. Your own apartment. Understand?”

  She nodded, shrugging. “Un appartement, oui.”

  “Appartement—right. Exactly,” I said. I hesitated for a moment, clearing my throat before mustering the courage to say, “You can stay in my appartement if you like, with your baby. It has many rooms,” I added quickly. “And temporarily, just until I return. You understand?”

  Marion frowned. Something I’d said hadn’t translated. Or perhaps I’d spoken too fast. Before I could try rephrasing and speaking more slowly, a slew of French erupted over my head. I stood up and whirled around to find Claudia standing behind me, blonde hair hanging over one shoulder, hands planted on her hips.

  Whatever Claudia had just said, it made Marion’s face light up. Not just with appreciation, but a whole lot more.

  I shot a glare at Claudia, narrowing my eyes. “Wh-What did you just say to her?” I breathed.

  Before Claudia could answer, Marion had risen to her feet. I had no choice but to face her as she gazed up at me, a beautiful smile parting her lips.

  “I simply told her,” Claudia said quietly behind me, “what the two of you already know.”

  With that, she turned on her heel and sped away.

  What the two of us already know.

  I didn’t like the sound of that. What do we already know? It didn’t feel like I knew anything. And how does Claudia know what we are supposed to know? I was confused. And now here I found myself, flying with Marion on my back, her baby in my arms, toward my treehouse… still not knowing what Marion was smiling about. What brought that shine to her hazel eyes.

  I felt awkward as heck as I touched down on my veranda. I returned her baby to her arms and led them to the front door. I slanted a glance at Marion as she gazed around in awe at the outside of my home.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered, as we stepped in through the doorway.

  Trying to cast aside Claudia’s mind games, I led Marion to the largest spare bedroom I had, which was also the one with the best view of the island. I thought this would be the most appropriate for her and her child since there was a double bed. I pushed it up against the wall, so that the baby could lie on the far side without risk of falling.

  She climbed onto the bed and settled her baby down. Planting a kiss on her forehead, she tucked her beneath the sheets before letting her continue to sleep in peace.

  I backed out of the room, Marion following me. She obviously had no intention of resting. I wasn’t sure what exactly she was going to do in my apartment while I was gone. I suddenly felt self-conscious about what personal items I might have left lying around.

  I didn’t really have time to clean up now though. The half an hour we had been given to prepare to leave was drawing to a close.

  I had tidied the place up recently, so at least it was clean… Well, as clean as a bachelor’s apartment ever got.

  My chest was tense as we stopped in the center of the sitting room and met each other’s eyes. There was still a gleam to her irises.

  “Well, I’m not sure what you like to eat but there’s plenty of food in the fridge. More than enough until I return.” I gestured toward the kitchen. She nodded. She’d figure it out.

  “Uh, and I should be going now, I guess,” I said, though my feet still didn’t move. I remained transfixed on her. I watched every flicker of emotion that crossed her face as her eyes wandered around my living room in appreciation.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, returning her focus on me.

  “Welcome,” I murmured.

  She looked as awkward as me now, as we stood there, a few feet apart. Her hands clamped together, and she began wringing her fingers. Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something more, but then she sealed them again.

  I bowed, deciding to put the two of us out of our misery and sweep toward the exit. But as I left through the door, she uttered in a low whisper, “Je t’aime bien aussi, Lucas.”

  I made a mental note to get a translation from Claudia for that.

  Ben

  My father, mother and I arrived at the Port before everyone else. We waited on the jetty, watching as people gathered. I began checking everyone’s names off in my head. Every member of the group arrived on time, except Lucas and Jeramiah, who were a couple of minutes late.

  Then it was time for us to leave. We gathered in a circle, and the witches among us vanished us away from The Shade, to the portal located on the nearby abandoned island that led to The Trunchlands.

  I must’ve taken this route hundreds of times by now. I felt like I could find my way from the island’s beach to the gate hidden in the well with my eyes closed.

  We leapt through the hole and arrived on the ogres’ beach. I barely even had time to check if anybody was around before the witches vanished us again, straight to the shore of The Sanctuary.

  I gazed up and down the length of the shore, memories washing over me. The Sanctuary. It had played such a huge role in our history—my parents’ especially.

  We were unable to penetrate the boundary, of course. They still kept it up at all times. Not even the witches among us could pass through, because they were not official residents.

  We ended up yelling, which was what we normally had to do if there was nobody roaming the beach on arrival.

  We were kept waiting about ten minutes before a blond warlock showed up.

  “We are here to speak with Loira Sulvece,” Ibrahim said immediately.

  The warlock eyed us. His face was vaguely familiar. I was sure I’
d seen him before, though I couldn’t remember how or when. The main thing was that he recognized us. He nodded, then vanished.

  We were left to wait yet another fifteen minutes before a thin, wiry woman with limp blonde hair and an odd stiff-shouldered dress appeared on the beach.

  “Loira,” Corrine said, and we all moved closer.

  Loira pursed her lips as she cast her glance over each of us. “Why have you come to see me?” she asked, wary.

  “We have come to question you about an event in your past,” Ibrahim said. “Some years ago, you were working for the IBSI, were you not?”

  Loira rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t working for them. It was a trade.”

  “Well, whatever it was,” Ibrahim said impatiently, “we have some questions for you about it. If you could oblige we’d be eternally grateful… I’m sure you remember the time when Atticus put you in charge of an investigation regarding the disappearance of five specimens from the hunters’ lab?”

  She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because we badly need to find out what happened to those specimens. We have been informed that when you were conducting the investigation, it basically lost steam before it even started because you hit a complete dead-end. Is that what happened? Did you really have no idea where they could’ve gone? If there’s anything at all you can tell us, however insignificant—”

  Loira held up a hand, causing Ibrahim to stall. Then a small smile stretched her narrow lips. The amusement spread to her eyes.

  “You want to know what happened to the specimens,” she repeated.

  “Yes!” Ibrahim said.

  “Well, the truth is… I took them.”

  I did a double-take. We all gaped at her.

  “What?” several of us spluttered at once.

  She rolled her eyes again. “I took them! The kidnapping was done by me. I set it up to look like it was something more mysterious, and when I was given the job of tracking down the culprit, it was easy to shut the investigation down—since Atticus himself hardly cared anyway…”

  “Why did you want those specimens?” Ibrahim asked.

  “So you have them now?” I blurted over the top of him.

  “One question at a time,” the witch muttered, taking a step back. “I wanted the specimens because, well, they were unique. There was nothing else like them. I wanted to see what their blood was capable of in my own experiments. And as to whether I have them now?”

  I held my breath.

  “No,” she replied, shrugging.

  My heart hit my stomach.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I can’t be sure where they are now.”

  “What?” I practically roared. I felt the urge to grab the woman and shake her. “B-But what happened? You just said you took them!”

  “Yes, I took them… I had them with me for a week or so… and then I gave them away.”

  “WHAT?”

  “I received a rather generous offer from an interested third party.”

  “Who?” I seethed.

  “A harpy.”

  Oh, God. No, no, no! Confounded woman!

  “I gave up the specimens to a harpy named Miral in exchange for a sack of silkweed,” Loira explained, as if anyone other than Ibrahim and Corrine knew what silkweed was. “I didn’t even have to think about it. I had already drawn the blood I needed from the babies.”

  I was ready to strangle the woman.

  “A harpy!” my father and I hissed.

  “You gave babies to a harpy,” I clarified, even as I realized that we needed to keep our tone in check. The witch was beginning to look shifty and irritated by it. She could, after all, simply vanish back into her home and refuse to answer any more questions. Then we really would be screwed.

  “I’m sorry,” I added quickly. “It’s just that…” I exhaled. “The specimens are really, really important to us.”

  “Well,” she said, “as I said, a harpy took them. She and her four sisters had set up residence on an abandoned island in the Deep North. She said they had established an orphanage there and were collecting abandoned children… I saw no harm in giving the things to a creature who was clearly desperate to be a mother.”

  My stomach clenched. Loira had obviously just wanted to get rid of them. She must have known that a “harpy orphanage” was something no child should ever have to visit, much less grow up in. (Assuming they would grow up.)

  “Where is this island?” Corrine demanded. “Where exactly in the Deep North?”

  “I can show you on a map if you like,” Loira said, nonchalant.

  “Yes. Please,” Corrine said.

  “Wait here then.”

  As she vanished, the rest of us exchanged disbelieving glances. Talk about stranger than fiction. A nest of harpies raising a group of halfblood-Hawk chicks. If they could even be called chicks. I wondered what else those harpies had raised…

  I was relieved when the witch returned five minutes later. I had feared for more than a moment that she might’ve simply gotten fed up with us and decided to make an early departure.

  She had brought with her an old map. We moved over to some rocks, where she spread it out and indicated to Ibrahim and Corrine where exactly the harpies’ island was situated.

  In the Deep North was no exaggeration. No exaggeration at all.

  Ben

  Well, this was already getting off to a rather unpromising start. After Loira left us—even having the gall to wish us good luck—I heaved a sigh.

  I wondered if that woman had children of her own. If she did, I doubted she would’ve been so quick to offer up the specimens’ lives in exchange for… whatever the hell silkweed was.

  At least she’d had the decency to leave the map with us. Ibrahim and Corrine huddled over it before instructing everybody to get in a circle.

  The ground beneath us disappeared, and when we reached a solid surface again, the temperature had dropped dramatically. My vision focusing, I found myself gazing around at a beach, completely caked with snow. We were on the shore of a frozen island. Even the ocean behind us was iced over.

  It came as a shock to my system. Barring Cruor, which could get very cold, most of the places I had visited in the supernatural dimension had moderate to hot temperatures. This was the first time I could remember seeing actual snow at this end of the universe.

  Luckily, all of us being supernaturals, we weren’t too affected by the cold. The witches sparked fire in their palms to warm themselves. Kailyn, Lucas and I scooped up sparks from them to warm our own hands.

  This island appeared to be much larger than I had expected. Its shore stretched out for miles—I couldn’t even see the end of it. I rose into the air to gain a bird’s eye view, higher and higher, until I could see the shape of the island. But before my eyes reached the opposite shore, they lingered on an elevated dot near the center of the land mass. There was some kind of construction down there—the only construction on this whole island, apparently. It was hard to tell exactly what kind of construction it was because it was covered in snow, but it was obvious that was where we needed to head.

  Ibrahim and Corrine floated up to join me, and I pointed it out to them. Then we returned to the beach for the witches to transport us all swiftly in one go.

  As we approached the construction, we realized it was a large three-story house constructed entirely of wood. From what I knew of harpies, they tended to live in nests—so I doubted this was constructed by them. If they were still living here, they must’ve had some other kind of help to build it. As drafty as it looked—with some of the uneven window panes completely devoid of shutters—it was still certainly more habitable for non-harpies than an open-air nest.

  I shuddered. Not from the cold, but from the scene I was envisioning inside the house, if this was indeed still an orphanage…

  The closer we got to the building, the older and more rundown it looked. Not only were some of the windows wide open, but there were cracks in th
e walls themselves. The wood in the front door had warped, its edges hardly even fitting the doorframe anymore. Perhaps this had once been a decent place, but if it had, too many years had passed since its last maintenance.

  We stopped five feet away from the entrance.

  My father turned to Ibrahim. “Please cast an invisibility spell over us.”

  Ibrahim obliged.

  It was best that the harpies didn’t spot us until we had a proper game plan—the first step of which was obvious to me.

  “I’ll go and check out the house and report back,” I said, thinning myself and soaring forward. I sank through the front door, steeling myself for the other side.

  I arrived in a small entrance room, bare, except for a pile of damp logs in one corner. A vile smell pervaded the air, making me wonder what kind of toilet facilities they had in here… if any.

  I headed through the door to my right, emerging in a rickety winding hallway whose walls were covered with cobwebs, floors caked with dirt and feathers. A candle burned in a basket at intervals against the walls. I heard the sound of murmuring further up. As I turned a corner, I caught sight of the dim glow of light escaping around a doorframe.

  Hardly breathing, I approached the door and poked my head around it.

  The room was bare, except for a bed of kindling in one corner. Lying on the bed were two infants with skirts of black feathers around their waists—infants whom I immediately recognized as ogres. And surrounding them were two harpies. Their heads were those of women—with long, matted hair—yet their short, stunted bodies were those of feathery birds. Both of them had coal-black feathers, with hair to match.

  They were cooing softly—eerily—over the infants, apparently putting them to sleep.

  Tearing my eyes away from the bizarre scene, I moved into the next room along. There were no harpies in this one, but there was another bed of kindling, upon which lay three werewolf cubs. Their fur was pure white, and their eyes were closed. They looked terribly thin.