The Holders

5



Before I even realized I’d fallen asleep, I felt a hand shaking my arm. “Wake up! We’re almost there!” I cracked one eye open to see a freckle-faced little carrot top with about the worst bed-head I’d ever seen.

“Go away,” I mumbled, hugging my pillow closer and snuggling in.

“Look!” he said, climbing on top of me to lift up my window shade.

“You stink, get off me!” I moaned, pushing him onto the floor and sitting up.

“I don’t stink, you stink,” he mumbled, straightening himself up and moving over to look out the window.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know. My watch says 5.00, but the clock on the screen says 10.00,” he said, not taking his eyes from the window.

Suddenly I realized something: a pillow. I had been sleeping on a real pillow. I reached over and smoothed my hand over the soft worn cotton, totally at a loss.

“Where did this come from?”

“Where did what come from?” Ryland asked, not bothering to look.

“This pillow.”

“How am I supposed to know where your pillow came from?”

It was a full-sized bed pillow, with a pillowcase and everything. A far cry from the lumpy postage stamp pillow the flight attendant had given me. Suddenly, something Alex said the night before came to my mind: ‘The trick is to bring your own pillow.’ My eyes popped open and I inhaled sharply –Alex? Was this his pillow?

“What’s wrong with you?” Ryland had turned from the window and was looking at me.

“Nothing,” I said, as casually as I could, then, knowing that little boys can ask far more questions than is good for anyone involved, quickly changed the subject. “You’re a mess, go to the bathroom and clean up.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, and if I have to be seen with you, you’re going to go clean up.”

I started pushing him towards the aisle while he continued to whine, “I already washed my face with the wet towel they gave me with breakfast…”

“Then at least fix your hair, you look like a serial killer.” He snickered and slumped off towards the lavatories. “Use water,” I called after him, to which he answered with a “yeah, yeah” wave behind his back.

I rummaged through my carry-on and pulled out my brush and a hair tie. I combed out my mane, and braided it into one long plait. I hadn’t thought to bring my toothbrush on the plane with me, so I grabbed some gum out of my jacket pocket to get the sleep funk out of my mouth. I stood and stepped out into the aisle relishing how good it felt to be able to stretch. I headed for the lavatories figuring I should check on Ryland’s progress, and sure enough when I got there I saw him stepping out of one of the tiny doors, hair still sticking out all over.

“Nope, get back in there,” I said, pointing behind him.

“But I used water…” he whined as I spun him around by the shoulders and followed him in, closing the door behind us.

After another five minutes in the matchbox bathroom, in which Ryland had to kneel on the closed lid of the toilet in order for both of us to fit, we emerged two respectable-looking human beings.

As we turned the corner heading back to our seats, the first thing I saw was Alex, leaning casually on the headrest of the aisle seat of my row.

“Good morning,” he said, as we approached.

“Morning,” Ryland said with a wave, before dropping into his row and resuming his perch by the window.

Alex stepped aside so that I could re-enter my row, and I slid over to my seat, lifting his pillow into my lap as I went. He sat down next to me tentatively, as though he thought the action might somehow offend me.

“This is yours I assume,” I said, handing him the pillow. He simply smiled and took it. “Thank you.” To that, he gave a funny laugh and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “What?”

“You…” he chuckled again. “You thanked me last night, actually.”

“I did?” I didn’t remember seeing him at all after our conversation, much less speaking to him.

“Yeah, when I gave it to you.”

“Was I awake?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so.” His ears grew red, and I was immediately wondering what I’d said, worried it was something really dumb.

Luckily, before I could find out what it was, the seatbelt sign lit up and the flight attendant announced our descent into Charles De Gaulle Airport.

“Does that mean we’re there?” Ryland was practically bouncing on his seat, shaking my headrest to get my attention.

“No, this is Paris. And sit down and buckle up, what’s wrong with you?” I scolded, shoving his hands off my seat.

Ignoring me, he hopped down and ran out around us, climbing into the row in front of Alex and me. He turned to face us and got up on his knees so he could see over the headrest. “How can we land, we are still really high up.”

“We’re descending, not landing. It means going down.”

“When will we land?”

“I don’t know, half hour or so?”

“A half hour?” Ryland groaned, melodramatically dropping his head down on the top of the seat. “Then we have another plane ride?”

“Yep.”

“But that will be a short one,” Alex added.

“How short?” Ry asked.

“Only about two hours,” Alex assured him.

“Then we’ll be there?”

“Yes,” I said with a sneaky grin, “after the car ride.”

“Car ride!”

“Oh, it won’t be that bad, we’ll be there before you know it,” I said, picking up my discarded SkyMall from last night and thumbing through it.

“Yeah right, you said that yesterday, and we’re still not there!”

“Well, whining about it isn’t going to get us there any faster,” I said, not looking up from my magazine.

“Only Mom can say that!”

“OK, let me put it this way,” I looked up at him, “stop whining, or I’ll call the flight attendant over here and make him yell at you for not sitting right in the chair.”

He crossed his arms over the top of the seat and rested his chin on them. “Fine,” he mumbled against his arm. I glanced over at Alex, who was trying very hard not to seem amused by our bickering, before turning my attention back to SkyMall.

“I like your necklace,” Ryland said suddenly.

“I’m not wearing a necklace,” I said.

“Not you,” he said, with a little too much attitude.

I glanced up to see he was looking at Alex.

“Do you?” Alex smiled, pulling the necklace he was wearing all the way out of his shirt. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, because you are going to have one just like it.”

I turned to take a closer look. It was a small circle pendant on a thin black woven leather cord. The pendant was silver in color and had a deep blue gem set in the center of what looked to be interwoven Celtic knots.

“Cool,” Ryland said, leaning over the back of the seat to get a better look.

Movement down the aisle caught my attention. “Ry, turn around and sit down, the flight attendant is coming and you’re going to get in trouble.”

“Can I stay up here?” he asked.

“Yes, just sit.”

“OK,” he said, flopping right way round.

With something between a grin and a grimace, I turned to Alex, “Sorry about tha–”

“Can I sit by the window?” Ry asked, smushing his face in the small gap between the seats in order to see me without standing up.

“Yes,” I growled. “Sit wherever you want, just sit!”

“OK, OK, geez,” he grumbled as he slid over to the window seat.

“And buckle your seatbelt!” I whispered just as the flight attendant walked by. Once he’d passed, I turned back to Alex, who was still looking bemused by our banter. “Sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said, his smile making my heart beat just a little faster. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, so I’m told.” I couldn’t help but grin. “So, what is that?” I asked nodding towards his necklace. “I assume it has something to do with…”

He nodded, knowing what I meant. “It’s called a Sciath, it means shield. Every Holder has one.”

“What’s it do?” I asked, keeping my voice low enough to avoid the miniature set of ears in the next row.

“It helps us to use our abilities – to control them. For instance, if I didn’t have mine, I would still be able to cast, but I wouldn’t be able to control who saw my projections, or how long they lasted. It would also be possible for me to start projecting things against my will, though now I’m old enough for that not to be too big a problem. That’s more a issue with newly awakened Holders.”

“So, do you wear it all the time? It seems like you really only need it when you use your ability.”

“Well… there’s one more thing. It protects our weakness.”

“Your what?”

“Every ability comes with its own weakness. We’re not sure why, best we can figure is that nature likes balance. Our Sciaths hide our weaknesses.”

“Weakness like what? Like Ryland hearing random voices?”

“Sort of.” He nodded. “Ryland hasn’t had his Awakening yet, and so doesn’t have his weakness. Actually, what I told him is only partially true. When he gets to St Brigid’s he will get a charm that will control his ability, but it won’t be his Sciath. He won’t get that until after his Awakening. We give charmed necklaces to all the un-awakened users so that they have an easier time before the change. In Ryland’s case, it will stop him from hearing thoughts randomly or as you have been calling them, the voices.”

I felt a rush of relief. “Stop them? You can really do that?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling.

“But after he has his Awakening, he will have a weakness? What will that be?”

“Well, in normal instances, he would have the same abilities and weakness as Jocelyn. I don’t know if you would remember, but Jocelyn’s Sciath is actually a ring.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “That huge red one?” I did remember. It was an enormous – or at least seemed enormous to a little kid – gold and red gemstone ring that I could never remember seeing him without.

Alex nodded, “That’s it. It’s actually a ruby, and that’s his Sciath. Without it, he can still read minds, but he has no choice but to hear everyone’s thoughts all at once, like a never-ending flow of noise in his mind. But with his Sciath, he hears nothing at all unless he wants to and even then he can choose whose mind he wants to read and hear only their thoughts. He can also sift through past thoughts and memories, and even control the mind – making people believe things that aren’t real, or creating or erasing memories. Though he never does that, as he is strongly against having any sort of control over a person.”

As I listened to him talk I could hear the underlying respect and admiration for the man he spoke of. The man whom I could barely stand the thought of without grinding my teeth. Alex seemed like such a good man. I wondered what Jocelyn could possibly have done to earn his respect, though this obviously wasn’t the time for such a question, so I let it go. Then I realized something. “Wait, you said ‘in normal instances’. Will Ryland be different?”

“Remember I told you Ryland was special? Well, it plays into that.”

“And when do we get to that part of the story?” I asked with a grin.

“Soon,” he said, smiling.

“So what about you? What’s your weakness?”

He looked away and cleared his throat, looking suddenly uneasy. Almost as if… Oh God, I’d embarrassed him! I felt so comfortable around him that I never stopped to think that he wasn’t sharing in my crush-driven delusion. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t… it’s no big deal. I’m-I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said, glancing at me, then down again to his hands, “it’s fine. It really is no big deal. I project emotion.”

“Emotion? Like feelings?”

He nodded with a shy wince. “When I’m not wearing my Sciath, anyone who can see me can also see everything I am feeling at that moment.”

“Oh,” I said, “and you can’t control it?”

“I can’t even see it. If I think about it, I can hold it in, but it’s hard; like tensing a muscle. I can’t keep it up for long.”

“Casting emotions doesn’t seem so bad.”

“No?” he challenged, raising his eyebrows. “Would you want the whole world to know exactly how you are feeling, all the time? Every single little emotion, not only the most present ones. You wouldn’t mind it if everyone that you came across knew exactly how you felt about them, with nothing more than a glance?”

“Oh… no.” I hadn’t considered that. “No, that would be bad.”

“Yeah.”

I started to think about what everyone would see right now if they could read my emotions, and of course my mind immediately went to the ridiculous crush I had on the man sitting right next to me, and I realized that he would be able to see it plain as day. Suddenly I felt my cheeks grow warm and I quickly looked down, pretending to adjust my shoe, praying he didn’t notice the blush.

“I should probably get back to my seat and start packing up, looks like we are going to land soon.”

“Sure,” I said, only allowing myself a short glance at him, not yet ready to trust the color of my face.

“There is one more thing I wanted to tell you,” he said as he stood.

“What’s that?”

“It’s about our ageing.”

Curiosity trumped my embarrassment and I looked up. “Your ageing?”

“After a Holder is awakened, the ageing process slows considerably.”

“OK…” I said, not sure where he was going with this.

“At some point I’m sure you’ll meet with Jocelyn, and I wanted to prepare you.”

“My Mom already tried,” I said, with an eye roll. “She’s convinced I’m going to freak out and put him in the hospital or something.”

“No, no,” he said with a smile, “I meant prepare you for physically seeing him. I know it’s been over ten years, and I just wanted to let you know that he will more than likely look exactly the way you remember him.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t really thought about what Jocelyn would look like, though now that Alex mentioned it I suppose I would have expected to see a few wrinkles or some gray hair. I could have told Alex not to worry, as I had no intention of seeing Jocelyn at all, but with Ryland in the next row now wasn’t the time to reveal that little tidbit of info. “Good to know,” I said. “Thanks.”

He nodded and turned to go, but I stopped him, “Wait, so… how old is he?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Go for it.” How bad could it be?

“I don’t know his exact age, but I do know that he was born in England somewhere around 1800.”

“1800!” I squeaked, remembering at the last second to keep my voice down. “You’re telling me that my father could be over two hundred years old?”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why he has a name like Jocelyn?”

“So, that used to actually be a guy’s name?”

“Oh, yeah. In fact, it wasn’t adopted commonly for women until the last fifty years or so.”

“Two hundred! Eww! How long do you all live?”

“Depends on the person. Full Holders are the only ones who have any alteration in their lifespan, and the more powerful ones can live anywhere from five to eight hundred years. Most of us only go to about three hundred or so.”

“Three hundred?! How can you say that like it is no big deal?”

He shrugged with a smile. “I’m used to the idea, I guess.”

“Wait, OK, so now I have to know, how old are you?” I asked, bracing for the answer.

“How old do you think I am?” he countered, his smile turning wry.

“I don’t know, one hundred and four?”

“One hundred and four! What about me screams ‘old man’, may I ask?”

“I don’t know, so younger?”

“Yes, younger!”

“I probably shouldn’t guess again…” I said, trying not to giggle.

“Good lord, I’m twenty two!”

“So no old folk’s home then?” I was laughing outright, and even Alex was smiling in spite of himself.

“Excuse me sir, but you are going to need to take your seat,” said a slightly annoyed flight attendant who seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Sorry.” Alex turned to leave as the attendant walked back to the service bay. “One hundred and four, really?” he whispered, glancing at me before stepping out into the aisle and returning to his seat.