reply. Eyes shining, he fought back a smile. “If I’m right, this one is special, and infinitely more powerful.”
Gregor ran a tentative finger over its shell. “I remember making a bonfire of those masks. They screamed as they burned.”
Warren nodded as the memory played itself out in his mind as well. “It was the same night we destroyed the Tulpa’s home. It was why he built Valhalla, with its guards and security and cameras studying every person who enters the place.”
I shook my head, wondering if Xavier had known what he was getting himself into when the Tulpa approached him with his offer. Selling one’s soul for money wasn’t a new concept, and even though Xavier had more cash than one man could ever spend, I remembered how he’d looked with smoke billowing from his masked face, and would have even felt sorry for the guy…if I thought he’d had a soul to begin with.
“So if this isn’t one of those, what is it?”
Now Warren smiled.
“This is a tool. An animist’s mask designed to show the wearer his greatest desires…and the means to achieving them. I believe it’s also how the Tulpa has been able to anticipate our moments, foil most of our plans, and stonewall us at every turn.”
“The one of legend?” Tekla stepped forward to stand beside him, all her previous annoyance gone.
“The same. See the stylized curve of the mouth? The mismatched brows? I studied the texts after Zoe left…” He paused, quickly addressing me. “She was a fervent student of animism-”
“As she had to be,” Tekla added, “living with the Tulpa.”
“This is where he gets his omnipotence, his seeming omnipresence,” Warren took over again, with the fervency of a zealot. “But he
And the satisfied smile that swelled on his face said what he did not.
“So what are we supposed to do with it?” Vanessa asked, picking up the mask between a thumb and forefinger. Her straightforwardness made me smile. I liked her because she was quick, witty, and unerringly practical. She was also tough without sacrificing her femininity, which had gone a long way to helping me feel more comfortable in my sister’s curvaceous body. Where I’d once dared people to point out my femininity, Vanessa had never been at war with her body. It was simply hers to do with as she pleased, like her mind or her time; and while others sold, squandered, or cheapened these gifts, she owned and improved upon them, and took joy in every return on her investment. I felt more comfortable with her than any woman since my sister’s death.
“We try it on.”
“Oh, hell no.” She tossed the mask onto the table, obviously unconcerned about the spirit trapped inside. “I’m not letting my soul essence ooze out of me like air from a leaky tire.”
“It doesn’t work that way. I know this legend too,” Kimber spoke up.
“Very good.” Warren inclined his head, then picked up the animist’s mask and held it out to her. “And since you’re the resident expert, we’ll start with you.”
Her sure smile wobbled, and I snorted, crossing my arms. Nobody likes a know-it-all.
Unsurprisingly, Kimber didn’t back down. She bit her lip as she reached for the mask, chipped black polish running over the painted features before she raised the mask to shoulder height, a move that looked stiff and overly formal-like she’d studied but never performed it-and brought it to her freckled skin.
If I hadn’t been looking, I’d have never seen the wood grain shifting, though her quickly indrawn breath as the carved ears bent inward would have betrayed the activity.
“What do you see?”
Her fingers splayed to begin her explanation, but nothing came out at first. “I see myself…except it’s not me. It’s a future me. I’ve metamorphosed into a full-fledged agent and I’m holding a blowgun. I’ve slain the Shadow Scorpio with a dart to the artery in his neck.”
I glanced at Hunter, and he at me. I’d seen the template for the conduit she mentioned, but I could tell by his face that she hadn’t. He hadn’t even finished making it yet. After another few seconds where she was left too breathless to talk, she lifted her hands and removed the mask. Her steel blue eyes seemed to catch all the light in the room, and her face was glowing with excitement. “It was just like the textbooks said. All you have to do is stare through the eye slits, but use your mind to see what’s on the other side, not your vision. I could feel the other spirit residing in the mask, but it was peaceful, almost welcoming. It wanted for me what I wanted most. We were in harmony for as long as I chose to wear it.”
Warren only grunted, and I was relieved to hear skeptical consideration in the sound as he motioned Kimber back and prepared to lift the mask to his own face.
“Stop!” Tekla shouted suddenly, rushing forward. She grabbed his arm so roughly, he fumbled the mask. Offering him a half-apologetic smile, she pulled away, and said more calmly, “It’s not that I don’t believe Kimber, but I’d like a little more proof before my troop leader dons an obvious totem of spiritual power. It may be what…”
Tekla smiled and reached for it. Warren outranked her, but the troop’s Seer was given an equal amount of respect, and a good deal of leeway for what was kindly described as her more erratic behavior. “I’ll go next.”
“Your mind is as valuable as mine,” Warren began, but Tekla turned away, shielding the mask from his reach with her body.
“You’ve survived without me before. You’d do so again.”
Not too long ago Tekla had turned away from her visions, her gifts, and her star sign. She was newly returned to her position, so while her skills and power were stronger than ever, her confidence was shaky. There were times she could be heard ranting in the astrolab, screaming at the domed sky above her, arguing with the fates. Other times she disappeared into her room in the barracks, unseen for days.
But now she was hooking the heel of her hand upon the chin of the mask to bring it to her face one-handed. A small click, the pinning of the wood behind her ears like sunshades, and she fell utterly still.
“Tekla?”
“Oh my,” she whispered, clasping her hands tightly together in front of her. “That’s just…”
Warren was immediately by her side. “What is it, Tekla? What do you see?”
“Wonderful,” she breathed, and an almond-soft scent bloomed in the room. Hope. “My son’s spirit is at rest. There’s a new constellation forming even as we speak, born of his goodness and purity and potential. Moving past his death has given me the ability to read messages born of this new star system. Shadows will die because of it. My son will still fulfill his legacy as a member of this troop. I can see it all as if it’s happening right now.”
Tekla fell silent, and when it became apparent she wasn’t going to remove the mask without prompting, Warren put a gentle hand to her shoulder. She startled, jumping like she’d forgotten where she was, and when she removed the mask, her face was wet with tears. She let Warren take it away, expression disoriented and mildly disappointed as she stepped back again, tucking unsteady hands into the sleeves of her robe.
Three more people tried on the mask and three times it showed various predictions of success; Vanessa’s vision spoke of love, Jewell’s of worthiness, and Gregor physically overcame a Shadow agent he didn’t recognize, besting the giant man even with just one good arm. When it came time for Hunter to reveal what he saw, he only said the others were right; it was most definitely the near future. And though the look on his face was benign enough, I sensed chaos swirling through his bloodstream. I studied him as he avoided my gaze, but by this time even Warren was displaying uncommon excitement. He turned to me, eyes gleaming.
“Your turn, Olivia.”
I didn’t want to. I knew it was my almost pathological need for control, a knee-jerk reaction caused by past helplessness that had me mentally rearing back when he held the animist’s mask out to me, but I thought I saw the
