Vincent
“What do you thnk?” Eden’s soft voice came from behind me.
I turned. Eden moved closer, stopping just five feet away from me. The unspoken yet tacit agreement that we will stay out of each others’ personal space hung heavily in the air, like the proverbial elephant in the room. I could see she was smiling slightly, as if amused at my wariness of her.
Just for the record, I’m not scared. I know her well enough after going on several missions with her but the witch creeps me out. It’s not the fact that she is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. More with how she carries herself. Underneath that ethereal exterior, I know is a cold, ruthless battle-caster.
Oh fine. I’m slightly scared of her. Happy?
“I think her powers are partially-dependent on her translation of her environment,” I said, shrugging the momentary uneasiness of speaking to her.
We were done cataloguing Wanda’s heretofore unknown powers. Looking back, I wasn’t surprised at how long it had remained undiscovered, if her power is activated by proximity to danger.
Until recently, the sister had never been in dangerous positions before …
* * * * *
I was ripping out the plank floorings of the barn with my bare hands. Splinters cut through the skin of my palms but I ignored it. Wanda was helping ease the task by prying the plank panels loose with a crowbar. I could tell she was angry at me for getting us in this spot. I wouldn’t put it past her if she let fly on me with the crowbar.
She was angry. I could see it in the set of her face during our short trek through the woods. I know she’s definitely not happy about leaving her car by the roadside in the middle of nowhere. I know she doesn’t trust me. I don’t need telepathy for that.
Pity. I like that little glint in her dark brown eyes whenever she glares at me.
It’s interesting being a clairvoyant. In addition to the basic clairvoyance which gets glimpses of things happening someplace else—remote sensing—I see everything. It’s a three-hundred-sixty degree vision. Against me, doors and walls might as well not exist; they appear as transparent structures to me. I can see into the infrared spectrum, so you can count out invisibility. I know it sounds like it can be taxing to most people but that ‘all-rounder scanner’ as Jas once called it can be triggered or suppressed at will. And just like normal vision, all I had to do is focus on what I wanted to see. Since I see reality, visual illusions have little effect on me. Back at the Indian restaurant when Jas projected the illusion of being burned alive to me—despite his affecting my other senses of touch, smell and hearing—only the fact that I could view us as still sitting normally at our table kept me from pissing in my pants.
Yeah, I know. I spilled my drink onto my lap. Accidents are a bitch, aren’t they? Besides, Jas needs some ego-stroking. If his thinking my wetting myself in fear boosts his confidence in his powers, so be it. He didn’t need to know I could kill him with my bare hands if I wanted to. He also doesn’t need to know how to work around my powers.
Nikki told me and Eden once that Jas had barely begun to explore the full extent of his abilities. The reason behind that particularly enlightening disclosure was after Jas managed to outflank him in one of their mock psychic battles. What else could he do? He’s already mastered several techniques in a space of five years that even the most advanced students at the Academy took months to understand.
I turned away from that line of thought. Jas is a nice guy. But he’s also bitter and cynical. I don’t have to be a telepath to see that there’s a deep-seated wellspring of rage just simmering below the snappy retorts and razor wit.
Oh fine. He creeps me out sometimes.
Wanda and me had managed to pry apart the boards to make an opening large enough for a person to drop into the crawlspace below, where it led towards the now-thankfully-unused sewage outlet. God, I love being a clairvoyant. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jas stumbled. I guess he just got a rude lesson in going up against witches. Heh. He turned and shouted a question at me. Jas tends to get snarky when things don’t work out for him. Sore loser.
I tossed a blithe reply to him, and that was when I felt a little tingle and a scene flashed before my eyes. The view was from outside the barn, and I could see the lead spellweaver pointing his hands at the barn and giving a terse command at his female subordinate.
The woman started tracing patterns in the air, and I could see her mouth moving. I’ve been around Eden enough to know what that means. I’ve seen her made the same exact gestures when she wants to harmlessly subdue someone—or a group of someones.
“Jas, shield us now!” I barked at him.
Jas got the mental shields just in time even as I felt the faint traces of mental compulsion asking me to sleep.
Interesting. They’re not trying to kill us. At least, not yet.
“Hurry up! I don’t think they’re here to kill us!” Jas shouted, apparently coming to the same conclusion.
Wanda paused. “That should be a good thing, right?” she asked, looking from me and Jas in turn. Worry and dread were etched in her face.
“Not really,” I answered. “It means they’re planning on taking us somewhere. Somewhere not very nice.”
I felt another tingling and turned to Jas to warn him to move away from his spot. At the same time I saw through the vision a huge fireball caroming towards the barn. Fucking spellweavers! The wall buckled and exploded inwards from the impact. Splinters, old farm junk and empty barrels went flying across the space. By instinct, I jumped in to the crawlspace. I held out my hand and made a grab for Wanda but would you believe that the girl went running after her brother?
I looked on in horror—which slowly turned into amazement—as she made it to her brother’s side at the same time as the fireball was about to smash into him. I saw her holding up her hands in futile defence against the impact and being burned alive.
The fireball did impact … against something. I distinctly heard the dull fwoomph of it. And the flames poured over them both but it didn’t touch them. The raging flames, almost liquid-like in their movements seemed to be held back by an invisible hemispheric barrier. I vaguely heard Wanda asking Jas in a voice bordering on hysteria if he’s the one responsible for their save. I know it’s definitely not me.
Jasper answered her, his voice hushed. “I think you are.”
* * * * *
Wanda was in hysterics. For the first thirty minutes, at least.
After spending some time with them, I realise the siblings both complement and mirror each other. In areas where Jas is calm and calculating, Wanda is tempestuous. They have the same razor wit and bantering skills—with slight differences; Jas, although humourously subversive, can be cruel and hurtful with his barbs while Wanda’s repartee while equally sarcastic, is rarely cruel.
Prime Andar was seated behind her desk, in her home office. We’re in her private residence. Eden was moving around the room, examining knick-knacks and curios that the Prime had collected throughout her travels. She stopped before a large painting hanging above the fireplace and was perusing it as the Prime explained to Wanda about her abilities. Nikki was leaning against the wall of shelves next to the Prime’s desk, his flint-gray eyes narrowing their focus on the seated Wanda. I was lazing on the small chaise at the southeast corner of the room. Our placements effectively put us in a rough square around Wanda.
Basically, we’re the pen and she’s the sheep.
Unkown to the Council, Prime Andar had kept us and a few others as part of her personal group of operatives. When she had approached me personally, I was wary if this was a legitimate operations group. After she had opened her mind and purpose to me, I was sold. Sometimes official channels and bureaucracy can only take you so far.
“So, I create force fields,” Wanda was saying, apparently recapping what Eden, Nikki and Prime Andar’s had told her. “Is that it?”
“It’s a little more complex than that, child,” Prime Andar assured her.
“I’m not a child,” Wanda grounded out. She stood up from the chair she had been sitting when they explained about her ability. “I’m twenty-eight. And you’re nowhere related to me to use those terms.”
“God forbid,” Nikki muttered.
I hid my smile behind my hand, pretending to scratch my nose. I’d foresaw Wanda’s tempestuous nature rubbing Nikki’s rigid, controlling personality the wrong way. Doesn’t this remind you of someone?
“For fuck’s sakes, Nikki,” I sighed. “Leave her alone. It’s not every day you learn you’re a freak.”
Wanda and Nikki glared at me.
Oh fine. They both hate me now.
I got up to my feet to walk towards Wanda but Eden cut in ahead of me. I was about to hold out my hand to her but found that I couldn’t move. My eyes flicked towards Nikki. He nodded, acknowledging my silent question.
Stay out of this one, Vincent. Nikki’s mental voice sounded in my head. Let Eden play this one out. I want to test out something.
Eden had reached Wanda. Without any preamble, she grabbed Wanda by the back of her neck and dragged her to the wall, where the bookshelves lined the office. Eden topped Wanda’s five-five height by five inches and she practically loomed over the other woman. Wanda struggled and bucked but couldn’t seem to budge the tall blond.
“Did you realise what just happened?” Eden asked rhetorically. “I increased my strength by four. I manhandled you and had you against the wall. If I wanted, I could snap your neck … and your powers would have activated too late before I killed you.” She released Wanda and took a step back.
I suddenly found that I could move again. I rushed towards Wanda. She was slumped against the walled bookshelves, looking at Eden like she had suddenly sprouted snakes from her hair. “You’re a sorceress,” she began haltingly. “Was that the point you’re trying to make?”
“Witch,” Eden corrected. “I’ll explain the difference later if we have time.” She shrugged then, dismissing the notion as irrelevant. “The point was, you didn’t see me as a threat. Brute strength used against you wasn’t translated as deadly force. Your subconscious was the one that was goverining your powers—and in some cases, keeping them at bay, and that is a good thing. Most of the time.”
“What do you mean, ‘most of the time’?”
“Your power is reactionary. It reacts to outside threats, or anything your subconscious sees as a threat.” Nikki explained. “You didn’t see Eden as a threat; you didn’t know she was a witch so you have no way of countering any attack she may let loose on you.” He paused, and then added with a slight curl of his lips. “Besides the obvious ones, like a fireball, of course.”
Prime Andar, silent all the while, picked up the thread of the discussion. “What they’re saying, Wanda, is that you have no active control over your abilities. In this place, this time, perhaps always, having all your options open before you means the difference between life and death. Especially for you and your brother.”
“Prime Andar is right,” Eden agreed. “If you’re anything like your brother, this is only the surface of your abilities we’re just scratching. We now know that your brother couldn’t penetrate your shielding. Perhaps you find his abilities threatening?” She glanced at Nikki and me, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Nikki’s been reading your surface thoughts for the last ten minutes, so apparently you’re not immune to telepathy.”
Nikki’s crisp voice came, surprisingly laced with humour. “For the record, I don’t think Vincent has pretty eyes.”
Wanda and me glared at him.
