The Holders

10



The next morning, I had made it all the way down to the main entryway – without getting lost, I might add – on my way to meet Alex, when I heard someone calling my name.

“Becca, lass!”

I looked over toward the lounge area adjacent to the main foyer, to find Mr Anderson waving to me.

“We don’t need a second opinion! You lost, take it like a man!” a second voice chided.

“We need a second opinion because you’re a rotten cheat, and I don’t trust you far as I can throw you!”

I entered the lounge area, where Mr Anderson and the bald-headed man from the office eavesdropping incident yesterday were standing side by side in the corner of the room, looking down and pointing at the floor.

“Here now, lass,” Mr Anderson said seeing me. “Come over here, and tell us which is closer.”

I stepped up to see what they were hovering over, to find several square-shaped folded pieces of paper scattered across the floor. Two of which seemed to be almost exactly the same distance away from a small red dot taped to the floor.

“Bocci?” I asked, remembering a similar game we played in gym.

“In Italy it’s bocci, in Ireland it’s bowls,” the bald man said, extending his hand toward me. “Duncan Reid, Miss Ingle, it’s a pleasure.”

“Becca, please,” I said, shaking his hand. He had large hands though he was very skinny, and had a slight accent that I couldn’t quite place.

“Now,” he said, mockingly apologetic, “if you could do us a favor and put this poor, blind fool out of his misery and inform him that he’s lost–”

“No you don’t!” Mr Anderson yelled, pushing Mr Reid away from me. “She’ll do it on her own, with no help from the likes of a cheat!”

“I am not a cheat! You are a sore loser, sir!”

“Well,” I mused, looking it over, “the corner of the one on the right is a tiny bit closer.”

“Ha ha!” Mr Reid laughed, clearly the owner of the right square.

“That’s because you moved it!” Mr Anderson insisted.

“You want to see me move it,” Mr Reid said, exacerbated. “I’ll move it!”

At that moment all the paper squares came flying up off the floor and straight into Mr Anderson’s face like a flock of attacking seagulls. They then started to hover around him, slapping him in the face, poking him on the nose, ruffling at his hair. I gave a yelp, and looked up to Mr Reid, expecting him to go to his friend’s aid, but he simply stood there watching and chuckling, looking vastly amused.

Then it dawned on me. “Are you doing that?” I asked, as Mr Anderson began swatting at the flying papers as he would a swarm of bees, cursing under his breath.

Mr Reid nodded. “It’s what I do. Did no one tell you? I’m a Kinetic, I can move objects without touching them.”

“Oh, so that’s why he thinks you cheated?” I asked, watching the assault on Mr Anderson, with wonder. “Can you move anything, or does it have to be something light?”

“Anything,” he said. “Here, have a seat.”

No sooner had he finished the sentence than a large upholstered armchair slid across the room, stopping just behind me.

“You’re not worried he’ll retaliate?” I asked, taking a seat while trying not to laugh at Mr Anderson, who was becoming winded.

“Him? No, he’s good as useless,” said Mr Reid clearly enjoying the show. “He’s an Imparter. All he can do is put words in people’s heads. Talk to them without physically talking. No real threat in that.”

“I’ll show you a threat!” Mr Anderson panted, still trying to fight off the attack.

Mr Reid was silent, but his eyebrows rose a few seconds later, looking mockingly scandalized. “Well,” he said, obviously having just received an imparted message from Mr Anderson, “that wasn’t very nice. There is a lady present, you know.”

“Aye, and you’re lucky for that!”

“What did I tell you two about dragging innocent bystanders into your nonsense?”

The flying papers fell to the floor and we all looked over to see Alex in the doorway, thumbs hooked in his pockets, shaking his head.

“Reid cheated!” Mr Anderson said, hunched over, catching his breath.

“Of course. As always, you lost, so I must have cheated!”

Alex caught my eye and motioned for me to follow him as he turned to go. I walked past Mr Anderson and Mr Reid, carefully stepping around the strewn paper squares, leaving the men to their argument. It sounded as though they might be squabbling until dinner, which was why I was shocked when, just as Alex and I turned the corner, I heard Mr Reid ask, “Do you want to go again?” to which Mr Anderson replied, “Of course, why not?” Alex chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

“Are they always like that?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? You should see them on Scrabble night,” Alex laughed. After a moment, he continued more soberly. “I’m glad you came down. I was worried that, after yesterday…” He grimaced, looking guilty.

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “Really. No big deal. I made it back in one piece, and last night I hung out with Chloe.”

As we approached the rotunda he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and began flipping through them. “I hope she isn’t bothering you,” he said glancing up at me.

“Chloe? No, not at all. Why?”

“She’s a wonderful person,” he said, singling out one of the keys on the ring. “I only ask, because I know how excited she is to have another girl around, and I don’t want her to overwhelm you. I love her like a sister, but she can be a little overzealous at times.”

“No, she’s great,” I assured him. “I can definitely see what you mean, but honestly, I like it,” I told him a bit sheepishly as we arrived at the only door in the rotunda. “I sort of missed out on all the typical girlfriend stuff when I was growing up.”

“Well, in that case you’re in luck. If there is anyone on earth who can get you caught up on all things girly, it’s Chloe.”

“I believe it.”

“All right,” he said, sliding the key he’d selected into the large lock on the door. “You ready?”

“Um, sure, I guess. What are we doing?”

“Remember on the plane when I told you there were some things I wanted you to see?” he asked with a smile as he held the door open for me.

I stepped into a large circular room with an antique marble floor and a high-domed ceiling. There were tapestries on the walls that I could tell were very old, as well as shelves filled with books and artifacts, each one looking far too valuable to even as much as breathe near, much less touch. Everything in the room felt as though it was from a different era. Even the metal lighting sconces on the walls looked like they had at one time held torches and had since been wired for modern lights. The whole thing was like stepping into another world; all we needed was a round table and some knights, and we could be in Camelot.

“This is incredible,” I breathed, tilting my head back and admiring the domed ceiling.

“We call it the Inner Chamber, and only a few people have access. It’s where all the sacred artifacts are housed, and where we hold meetings of the Order – or we used to anyway. Lately we’ve been going to Jocelyn’s office so we don’t have to stand the whole time,” he said, gesturing to the lack of chairs.

“Chloe mentioned that, what is it?”

“The Order? A small group of Holders all dedicated to… Well, let’s just say a common goal. Jocelyn is in charge, and then there’s myself, Mr Anderson, Mr Reid, Taron, and a woman named Min Stetz, who will actually be joining us here in a minute. There are a few others who help us on occasion, but they don’t reside here year round like the rest of us.”

“And what does this ‘Super Human Squad’ do?”

“This what?” he laughed.

“Come on, ‘Order’ is a bit stuffy, don’t you think?”

“Yes, and Super Human Squad sounds like a really bad cartoon,” he teased, as we began to slowly walk around the parameter of the room.

I nodded, giving him that. “So, what does the Order do?”

“Long ago, Holders used their abilities for the good of everyone. They were often peace keepers, or healers, always using their powers either discreetly or not at all. But,” he paused, taking a breath and growing serious, “over the last few centuries or so, with our numbers dwindling, and the world growing, it became more about keeping our secrets, and putting an end to our only enemy; a man named Failghe Darragh.”

“Who is that?”

“Darragh is an extremely powerful Holder. A Holder who believes that we are an advanced race, superior to average humans.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe, maybe not. It depends on how you define ‘superior’. It’s arguable that the lion is superior to the field mouse in most respects, but doesn’t mean that all the field mice should be removed to make room for more lions.”

“Wait.” I stopped, turning to face him. “He wants to remove all the humans?”

“He wants the human race to be as he believes it should be: under Holder control. And if we let him, he could do it. Very, very easily.”

“So, this Darragh really believes that he can somehow snap his fingers and run the world? I can’t see how that would even be possible. People aren’t stupid, they’d wouldn’t just surrender and let him take over.”

“No, people wouldn’t. If, that is, they had any idea what was happening to them,” he said, as we resumed our slow pace around the room. “Darragh is a smart man. He knows how to bide his time and work discreetly. He has multiple abilities, one of which is reading and controlling the thoughts and minds of others.”

“Like Jocelyn?”

“Yes, except that Jocelyn is a good man. He would never use his ability to manipulate others, or force his way. He doesn’t even read minds unless it is absolutely necessary. To be able to manipulate the thoughts and actions of others is one of the most powerful abilities a Holder can have, and isn’t something that should be taken lightly.”

“So, he really could take over if he wanted to? If you all let him?”

Alex nodded. “All he would need is access to one or two world leaders, or even simply to a large group of average individuals, to start a chain reaction that would be almost impossible to stop.”

“Has he ever tried?”

“He’s attempted things on a smaller scale here and there over the years, but we keep a close watch and have been able to control the situations. Though it’s been a long time since he’s made any sort of move, which leads us to believe he is waiting for…” he paused, glancing at me then quickly away. “That he is planning something.”

“You told me on the flight here that Holders only have one ability each, but now you say that Darragh has multiple?”

“Yes. Darragh is the only exception. He is more than seven hundred years old, and over the centuries has learned ways of increasing his power. One of which is stealing and merging the abilities of other Holders to his own.”

“And that’s bad?” I asked, hearing the disdain in his voice as he explained.

“It’s unnatural,” a female voice said from behind us.

I turned to see a short woman standing at the door. I recognized her as the woman from yesterday in the hall, though now that I wasn’t trying to hide I was able to get a better look at her. She was sporting the same frizzy hair, but now most of it was tied up in a scarf. She had a long blue dress on, with bracelets and rings all over her wrists and hands. Something about her reminded me of those Russian Matryoshka dolls that all fit inside one another.

“Becca, this is Min Stetz,” Alex said smiling as he walked over to her, placing a hand on her back. “I asked her to come and share her wisdom.”

“Bah, wisdom,” Min said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Min is our máthair ghlac,” he said, bending down and giving her a kiss on the head. Then, looking up at me with a smile, translated, “Surrogate mother. And she’s very modest. She knows more about our histories and artifacts,” he motioned around the room, “than anyone.”

Min reached up and grabbed his chin and shook it, then gave his cheek a gentle slap, like an affectionate grandmother might do to her grandson.

“She is also our resident sorceress. Her ability is called Alchemy, meaning she can cast charms and spells, and mix potions. She is also the one who forges and charms our Sciaths.”

“Yes, and I also read saols,” she said, giving Alex a wry look.

“What’s a saol?” I asked.

“A person’s life energy; their aura,” Min replied, still looking at Alex. “Is there something you neglected to tell me?” she asked him, slyly.

The color in his face seemed to pale just a bit. “No,” he answered, shooting her a look full of meaning that I couldn’t decipher.

“All right then,” she said, with a “we’ll discuss this later” look.

He cleared his throat. “I was telling her about Darragh,” he told Min, a little louder than needed.

Min shook her head sadly. “Unnatural,” she said again. “No one should have more than one gift. That is not the way it was meant to be. Would you steal the head of another because you wished to be smarter? Would you take the legs of a man because you wished to be faster? Darragh was gifted with an ability as the rest of us were, but that was not enough for him. He could not see his gift for the blessing that it was, he only saw power. And he wanted more. Even if it meant he had to take it.”

“How does he do that?” I asked.

“We don’t know for sure,” Alex said, “but we do know that the Holder he takes from doesn’t survive.”

“He kills them?” I whispered.

“He has to, there is no other way,” Min said. “In order to take the ability of another, you must take their life force. The two cannot be separated.”

My stomach turned when I thought about how cold a man like that would have to be. If that was the way he treated others of his own race, what would he do to the hundreds of thousands of humans he felt were beneath him?

“If he has every ability there is, how do you stop him?” I asked, wondering if they were fighting a lost cause.

“He does not have every ability,” Min said. “He has many, that is true. More than we are aware of, I am sure. But there are many he does not yet possess, including the one he wants most of all.”

She motioned for me to follow her as she made her way over to a large table on the opposite side of the room. There were several items on it, the largest of which was a black box in the center with a clear glass lid.

“The Iris,” she said, resting her hand on the box. “This is what he wants. The one thing he cannot have.”

I looked in the box to see a large circular medallion, about half an inch thick and six inches in diameter. She’d called it the Iris, and I supposed it did look something like an eye; the design on the face consisting of three circles, one inside the other. The outer and innermost circles – which on an eye would have been the whites and pupil – were pewter and had intricate Celtic knots engraved all over the surface. The middle “iris” circle was shiny and black, and made of glass, or possibly a smooth stone, I couldn’t tell.

“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward for a closer look.

“It’s called Dubh Inteachán; the Black Iris. It was forged over two thousand years ago by one of the most powerful Alchemists in history,” Alex said, stepping up behind me.

“It was said,” Min began in what I can only imagine was her best “come gather around the campfire” voice, “that he dreamt one night of a time far in the future, when the Holderkind would face a great enemy. In his dream there was a great battle, in which all the Holders were killed. He believed that his dream was a sign. It took him over a year of constant work, but finally the Iris was completed.”

“So, what does it do?” I asked.

“Well…” Alex paused, scratching the back of his head and glancing over to Min. “We’re not really sure.”

“Not sure? It sounds like kind of a big deal; shouldn’t you maybe look into that?”

“We can’t know for sure what it does until it’s awakened and used.”

“OK…” I prompted, when neither of them continued, not enjoying the sudden feeling that they were deliberately not telling me something.

“You see, child,” Min said, as Alex glanced down looking… nervous? “The Iris was designed so that only one Holder would ever be able to use it. The Iris’s creator feared that it would fall into evil hands if left unprotected, so he put an unbreakable charm on it that contained a foretelling. He said that one day a great Holder would be born whose ability came neither from his mother or father, and he would be called Bronntanas, meaning the Gift.”

“And, that’s the guy?” I asked.

Min shook her head. “His son. Mac an Bronntanas, or Son of the Gift. He is said to be a mighty warrior with unrivaled courage and enduring spirit. He will be the greatest and most powerful Holder the world has known. The Iris will recognize him instantly, and they will work as one, overtaking any enemy in their path, ensuring the survival of the Holder race.”

“OK,” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment. “Let me see if I’ve got this. You’re looking for this all powerful warrior guy so he can come and wake up the Iris and use it to get rid of the Darragh guy?”

“Yes,” Alex said, as Min nodded.

“And Darragh is looking for this guy too so he can kill him, steal his ability, and use the Iris for himself?”

Alex hesitated. “Um, well… yes. Or at least that’s what he wants,” he stammered, wringing his hands together. “But we’re going to make sure that doesn’t ever happen.”

I’m not sure if it was the worry in his tone or the constant gauge of my reaction in his eyes, but my hands started to tremble and I felt my heart rate begin to climb.

“Wait a minute,” I said, as the pieces began to come together in my mind. “When you asked me to meet you here, it was because you said we needed to talk about…” Suddenly, all the little hints and half thoughts I’d been hearing over the last few days fell into place…

…let’s just say he’s special…

…Ryland’s case is very unique…

…he isn’t ready for such a large burden…

…just a boy…

…we really do need to talk about Ryland…

Like a splash of cold water in the face, it was all clear; and the realization left me so furious and hurt that I could barely find words.

Alex’s hands came up in an effort to calm me when he saw my eyes pop open. “Let me explain…”

“Ryland? That’s what this is all about? He’s not some heroic warrior! What the hell are you thinking? He’s ten!” I was shouting now, but I didn’t care. “You lied to me!” I yelled, taking a step back from Alex. “You promised me that coming here was what was best for him, and now I find out that there is some psycho Holder out there that wants to kill him for his ability! How the hell is that what’s best for him?”

Alex stepped forward and took hold of my hand, begging, “Becca, please, I didn’t mean to–”