04 Last (25 page)

The expression on his face was dark. I wondered how often he had done what he ‘had to.’

“Has the historian ever gone too far?” I asked.

Daniel’s headshake was emphatic.

“Never. She’s one of the good…as ‘good’ as ‘good’ ever is.”

“If you say so…” I said.

We rounded a bend in the trail, headed toward the mining buildings. It was then that the first sign of trouble stopped us in our tracks. Bodies were on the side of the narrow trail. Some of the bodies were scorched beyond recognition, but others were simply dead. Surrounding the bodies of the dead were piles of ash; the ash of Watchers torched to keep them from returning from the dead.

“Good?” I questioned skeptically.

Daniel was staring at the bodies as well. His eyes were veiled; the violence said something else to him. It told a different story.

“There’s a lot of grey area in good,” Daniel pointed out.

“Why are there Watchers and humans dead, then?” I asked. “What grey area explains that?”

“She may have it where Watchers can’t pass without permission,” Daniel said. “It’s an old trick…kind of painful, but useful to know. Some Watchers would be willing to pay humans to find a way close to her, to kill her or worse. Like I said…grey area.”

“Why would they be after her?” I asked. “What’s so important that so many would be willing to die?”

“What she knows,” Daniel said.

“Like what?” I asked.

Daniel pulled me to the ground. The sound of a gunshot echoed around the hills surrounding us. I hit the dirt with a hard thump, his fear making him more forceful than he had intended. The bullet landed a few feet from us and exploded on impact. Daniel forced me out of the way as it exploded. I looked at the spot the bullet had exploded then at Daniel, who was looking around the barren landscape for signs of our attacker.

“I think she knows we’re here,” I said.

“You think?” Daniel asked dryly.

He pulled me to my feet and forced me to the side of road. We ran to the relative safety of a ruined car, complete with the bodies of a passenger and driver, and ducked behind the rusted metal. More bullets came down from the hills as we ran. They all exploded as they hit; my ears rang with the sound.

“Exploding bullets?” I asked.

“Incendiary rounds,” Daniel explained. “It’s smart. Takes care of Watchers and humans in one shot.”

“You can admire her after we end up not dead,” I pointed out.

More rounds peppered the car at my words. Small flames sprung up from what was left of the seats. Daniel peeked over the top of the car, his mind working overtime to figure out a way close to her without being shot by an exploding round. I realized that was exactly the problem – he was thinking as the others had thought.

He wanted to get close to her then confront her with the truth of who we were. She was used to that tactic; she had picked a rifle to keep people from getting too close. The only way not to end up a crispy critter was to let her make the choice to let us close. She was too skilled at staying alive to allow us close for any other reason. It was risky, but it was the only way. I pulled Daniel down as another round echoed around the mountains. It landed inches from where Daniel had been standing. I made him look at me, instead of at the invisible shooter out to claim our lives.

“I’m going to do something stupid,” I told Daniel.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet, that’s what makes it stupid,” I said.

“Clare…” he started to protest.

“Just stay here, okay?” I asked.

He sighed, recognizing perhaps that my craziness might be the only way to accomplish where others had failed.

“No promises,” he said.

I rolled my eyes at his non-promise and stood up. I held the sword over my head, trusting she could see it with her Watcher eyes. I stepped around the car and moved back to the dirt road again.

“My name is Clare Michaels,” I said. “I’m not here to hurt you or use you. I came to ask you some questions about my past.”

There was a long pause.

“How did you come by that sword Clare Michaels?” a voice asked.

It was hard to pinpoint location. It sounded as if it were everywhere at once.

“It’s a family heirloom,” I said. “Given to one of my family for helping a warrior in battle…or so I’ve been told.”

“The sword was payment for the debt,” the voice said. “I owe nothing to your family.”

“I’m not saying you do,” I said. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not like the others.”

A shot rang out from the hills. I didn’t move, though I sensed Daniel about to spring out from behind the car and tackle me. The shot landed in front of me, far enough away that it didn’t hurt. I still didn’t move. I refused to move. I urged Daniel with my hand to keep his place.

“You’re brave, I’ll give you that,” the voice said.

“I’m not here for you to think I’m brave,” I said honestly. “I’m here because I want you to tell me the truth about my family history. I’ve been told it will help stop Marcus, maybe even the end of the world.”

“You aim to kill Marcus?” the voice asked curiously.

“Yep,” I agreed.

“And you think your family history will help with that?” she asked.

“I’ve been told that by a seriously untrustworthy Watcher named Odette. I don’t know if I believe her, but I couldn’t take the chance she was lying. That’s why I’m here.”

A chuckle surrounded me, echoing back of the hills a hundred times. The laughter was disconcerting. I looked at Daniel, wondering if she was laughing because she was about to kill me or because she liked me. He shrugged in a question and went back to looking at the hills.

The laughter died down as suddenly as it had begun. The loudest sound was a wicked wind blowing the tall grass around the ruined structures. I looked around for any sign that she had not just walked away, but there was nothing. She was a ghost in a ghost town.

“I will answer your questions,” the voice said from directly in front of me, closer than I had expected.

I jumped at the unexpected closeness and gripped the sword tighter without thinking.

A woman stepped out from the shade of one of the buildings. One second there was shadow, the next she was there. Her features were of no race in particular. She had a medium complexion and characteristics of all races. It was as if she were older than races; older than the divisions humans had built up over the years. Her eyes were a mixture of all colors, a strange patchwork that held a magnetic pull. She was assessing me in the same way I was assessing her. Her eyes were full of recognition I did not possess. I was curious at what she saw.

I held the sword out to her.

“This is yours,” I said.

She stepped closer, cautious despite the tentative peace we had formed. She took the sword from my hand in an elegant grab and held the blade to my throat. I didn’t move, though my heart beat faster. The historian’s eyes were harsh.

“The only way I am going to believe is if I can see your history,” she said. “Marcus knows about this sword. He might have sent you. If you refuse to let me read your past, you die.”

I held out my hand.

“You want to do this now or did you want to think up some new threats?” I asked.

She looked at me with a confused expression on her face.

“It’s easier if you don’t try to understand her,” Daniel said to her. “She’s willing to let you look.”

The historian nodded at his advice. She ignored my hand and focused her eyes on mine.

“Lower your mental shield. I will not harm you,” she said.

I did as she asked. The historian’s eyes bored in to mine, and I felt my father’s necklace grow warm against my skin. It was the warmth of welcome. I saw the historian flinch slightly as I felt the warmth, but she was undeterred. The warmth was not an obstacle. As soon as my mental shield was gone, memories I had no control over surged up in front of my eyes. I saw everything, even some things I hadn’t known I remembered. I remembered days before I was born: swimming in sea of amniotic fluid, the sound of Ellen’s voice and the sound of a melodic voice that felt vaguely familiar – the voice of my father. I saw days from before I could speak, my years of moving from city to city, the day Ellen had told me the truth about my parentage, the fear that had followed me since that day, all of the minor trouble I had gotten in to while searching for something to keep me occupied and away from the fear, meeting Daniel, my first kills, what had happened in New Orleans, my time in torture-land, the tattoo that had been put on my foot, Lorian’s death and my rescue of Nemesis, rescuing Han and Beatrice… All of the images swirled around my head in a methodical way as the historian brought them up one-by-one. The visions stopped as my memories reached the present.

The historian lowered the sword from my throat.

“Welcome to my home. Be careful to stay close to the building on the right. The road is laced with mines,” she said.

She turned away from me and followed the dirt road, being careful to stick to the right side. Daniel and I exchanged an amused look.

“Well, that went well…” I said.

“She didn’t cut off your head,” Daniel pointed out.

“That’s true,” I said.

“We should probably follow her,” Daniel said.

I did my best to keep to the right side of the road, following in the historian’s footsteps. It was stressful and entirely like walking through a minefield. I expected the ground to blow up at any minute. Daniel kept close behind me.

The historian took a turn behind two large buildings that looked like they had been an office building at one point. The space was narrow. I had to turn slightly to one side to fit in between the space. At the end of the buildings was an opening to a tunnel. There were wood panels blocking the tunnel, but there were a set of stairs leading up the side of a mountain. The historian walked up the stairs and disappeared out of sight.

I hurried up the stairs after her, hoping there were not any more surprises, and saw another entrance in to the mountain. It was closed off as well, but there was a small opening to the left. The historian walked through the opening. I hesitated before going in.

Another tunnel…another closed-in space.

Daniel touched me on the elbow. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I agreed quickly.

It was more a cave than a tunnel; a cave unlike any I had ever seen. Or had I seen it before?

Walking through the small opening and looking at the cave was like looking at a memory, the sort of memory that could only be recalled in blurry detail, as if I had seen through someone else’s mind. It was more a familiar feeling in my gut than a concrete memory; a sense that I had walked in on the scene in front of me several times.

The cave had a white, marble floor. It was very tall, taller than I had expected. I could not see the ceiling; it was only shadow and darkness. It made me feel less as if the walls were pressing in on me, though the feeling lingered. The area was lit with recessed electric lights etched in to the very stone. To my left was a small area that looked as if it was the historian’s ‘home.’ It had a small chair, a table and more books than I could count. They were everywhere. Directly in front of the entrance was a small table that held a glass box with a white rose encased in it. I stared at the rose, trying to place where I had seen it and the cave before. Further back in the cave I saw a desk and several monitors. The monitors showed the surrounding area. The whole area was covered with video cameras, including the mountains and ways that seemed impassable to me.

The historian was waiting near the lone chair.

Daniel paused at the entrance of the cave. He looked pained, as if the idea of walking across the threshold was something he would rather not do. The historian looked between him and me with a sly smile.

“Do you fear walking in to my home?” the historian asked Daniel.

“I fear my blood boiling in my body and dying a painful death,” Daniel said. “May I come in?”

The historian cocked her head at him.

“I have seen Clare’s past, but not yours. There are many things Clare does not know about you.”

“Is that the payment you require?” Daniel asked. “My history as well? Will you trust me then?”

“Trust…” the historian mused. “We will start with permission to enter my home.”

Daniel nodded and looked at the historian as I had done. His green eyes were lit by a strange fire as the historian started pulling his memories from his mind. It was the fire of reliving all of his choices and experiences as I had. The historian’s face flickered occasionally as Daniel’s memories surprised her. I was not sure what she saw, but I was jealous. Seeing his whole history was something I would have liked to experience. No secrets – just the truth, all at once.

It took the historian longer to flesh out Daniel’s history. When she was done, she looked at Daniel with shadowed eyes. They shared secrets – secrets I was not sure I would ever know. The historian finally nodded.

“You may come in,” she said.

Daniel finally stepped in to the cave. He looked around, but did not seem to recognize the cave as I had. The historian looked at me again. Her gaze was intense, but a small smile appeared on her face.