Vicki Pettersson - The Scent of Shadows

“Ha!” I laughed in triumph. My mother’s conduit. I glanced back up at the photo, compared the two weapons, and mimicked her stance. My conduit. Thumb-sized arrows were lined in a chamber much like a gun’s, waiting to be cocked. Flat-headed, the bowstring was made of some shiny and supple wire, while the body of the weapon shone like onyx stone. Anxious to see what she’d said, I fumbled with the accompanying note, addressed to: The Archer.

They’re coming for me. I’ve foreseen it. To keep me from speaking truth they’ll take away my voice. Help me. My eyes for your voice? Speak, and I’ll show you the way to redemption. To the outside world. To the traitor .

I gasped. This couldn’t have been written by my mother. I started over, noticing this time the crispness of the paper before my eyes fell to the signature, an initial only, the letter T . It was followed by a postscript.

Look behind you .

A hand fell on my shoulder. I yelped and whirled around, automatically tucking the conduit behind me.

“You got it open,” Vanessa said, jerking her head at the locker. Chandra, to her left, said nothing, but her jaw clenched convulsively.

I shifted to stand in front of her, and she stiffened when I shot her a knowing look. “Well, someone delivered a little package to my room earlier, and it kept me from sleeping. So I thought I’d come up and give this a try again. Funny, isn’t it? That something meant to hurt me led me to this?”

Chandra’s cheek twitched. “Congratulations,” she said, but I could tell by the dark violet hue ringing her body that she didn’t mean it.

Vanessa cleared her throat and pointed at the note clutched in front of me. “What’s that?”

“Just a note from my mother,” I lied, turning away to tuck it back into the wrapping with the conduit. I settled the package in the locker and was swinging the door shut when Chandra stopped me.

“Hey! It’s Tekla!” She pointed to the photo of my mother and her friend, which answered the question as to who the other woman in the photo was. And, I thought, might answer who the note was from as well. Who else but a woman with the Sight would speak of lending me her eyes?

In exchange for my voice, I corrected mentally, as Chandra and Vanessa crowded in closer. But what was I supposed to say on her behalf? And to whom? The knowledge was emerging inside me, I could feel it like the stirring of bees in a hive, but it was deep still, too remote to be understood. But…

There’s a traitor among us .

I swallowed hard. That wasn’t just the babbling of a madwoman, I thought. Tekla had known this was coming, and wanted my help.

“Your mother was beautiful,” Vanessa said, turning to me. “I’ve always loved that photo.”

My brows lifted before I could stop them. “You’ve seen it before?”

“Oh, sure. That’s one of her trading cards.” She shrugged, and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I guess she liked it as well.”

“It seems so,” I agreed, while nervousness grew inside me. I didn’t really know either of these women, and since I was still trying to figure out what was so important about the items in this container, their studied gazes made me feel exposed. As if they were looking inside of me as well.

A traitor. Among us .

“What’s that?” Chandra asked, pointing at the package, providing the opening I needed. With a flick of my wrist I slammed the locker shut.

“Nothing,” I said coolly, and leaned against the door. It was nicely symbolic, if I did say so myself. “What’re you guys doing up here?”

“Nothing,” Chandra said, her voice like arctic ice.

“You guys,” Vanessa sighed wearily, and left to open her own locker.

“I don’t have time for this,” Chandra muttered, heading back to the exit. “Meet you down there, okay, V?”

Vanessa nodded and rummaged around in her locker. “Tell the others. Just because Warren’s gone doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”

“You got it.” Chandra left, and now I was staring at Vanessa.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” I asked, coming closer.

Vanessa shot me an irritated glance, and waved me out of her light. She’d sunk to the floor and was holding a rag in one hand and a can of oil in the other, alternately polishing and squirting at a steel club the width and length of my forearm. There was another piece of metal at her side that looked like nothing so much as a large nail file, but I didn’t know for sure. More superhuman toys, and I’d had my fill for a while.

“I mean, he left an hour ago to retrieve Gregor,” she said, bending close to her work. “If he’s made the crossing, they’ll be back soon. Otherwise they’ll wait for dawn.”

I bit my bottom lip, wishing I’d gotten to see Warren one more time before he’d left. I could’ve shown him this note. And with us linked the way we were, he’d have known what happened to me in Greta’s office as soon as he saw me. With just a look, one sniff, he’d know I was someone he could trust. We could have figured this out together.

Instead, I stood in frustrated impotence before Vanessa, all the newly acquired power and energy swirling in my bloodstream, flowing in my bones, straightening my spine…and with nothing to do with it. I sighed, attracting Vanessa’s attention.

“You look different,” she said, peering up at me as she picked up the large nail file. “Did you do something with your hair?”

I shook my head, and glanced toward the door. “He’s really going to leave the city without protection?”

“Warren?” She shrugged, looking down, and pressed a button I hadn’t noticed before. Five steel claws burst from one end of the bar. She began sharpening them with the large file. “That’s what he said.”

“But what about all the innocents? What about the city?”

“It’ll just have to survive without us.”

“It’s Las Vegas,” I said, drawing the words out.

“I know.” Vanessa rolled her eyes as she tossed her rag back into the locker. “Kinda makes you wish you were born in Kansas, huh?”

I forced thoughts of Warren, and trust, aside and tried to decide on the most logical next step. Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. “So what do we do now?”

“Nothing to do but wait,” she said, standing and moving a safe distance away. With a deft flick of her wrist the steel bar arched open, a yawning half smile followed by the curling claws. It was a fan, similar to the kind used in the Victorian era, but far more deadly. She fanned herself delicately and glanced at me from behind it. “My conduit. You like?”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, allowing the touch of jealousy I felt to tinge my words.

That stunning smile lit her soft, round face as she flipped it closed, pleased. Then she snuck another glance up at my face, and cleared her throat. “Listen, a few of us are meeting over in the cantina for drinks. Want to join us?”

I wrinkled my nose. “A cantina? You mean…like a superhuman kegger?”

She laughed at that, flipping her fan open and closed, slicing it through the air in a deadly dance of familiarity. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I hesitated. I certainly didn’t want to walk into a repeat of the day’s earlier performance, me against them…because even though I sensed mistrust swirling between them, they were still unified in their uncertainty about me. Then again, going would give me a chance to study each of them individually. Nobody knew about my note from Tekla…or about my session with Greta. Vanessa was right. Why wait for Warren?

“You did really well today,” she said, glancing over at me as I continued to remain silent. She put away the file in a large tool chest, and tucked the fan into the small of her back. “Not just against Chandra, but Hunter too. Most people find him too intimidating to effectively spar against.”