Fate Read online

  So why exactly was it that I was stuck in study hall, instead of living it up in a mansion with a young Brad Pitt look-alike as my personal cabana boy? After two full years as the Third Fate, I'd come to accept my quandary. Technically speaking, I controlled the fate of the world, but in reality, I didn't control anything. Fate Bailey and Real Bailey were like two separate people, and the second I crossed over to the Nexus and touched that metaphysical fabric, instinct and the power that ran in my veins took over. I couldn't consciously control what I wove. I just did it the way it had to be done. There was only one choice, only one dance meant for my hands each night. I didn't make up the movements.

  They just came.

  Hence me not having any cabana boys, any cleavage, or a date for the first dance of the year. Talk about déjà vu. Two years ago, before I'd ever heard of the Sidhe or paid any attention to Greek mythology, I'd been in more or less this exact same position. Then, a few days before the first dance of sophomore year, Annabelle, Delia, Zo, and I had gone to the mall, and unlike the other billion and one mall trips we'd made over the years, this one had changed everything, at least for a little while.

  Absentmindedly, I reached for the small of my back, brushing my fingertips over the tattoo whose shape and appearance were forever burned into my mind: two crescent moons laid over a sunburst. The combination looked somehow simple, despite the intricate design. In a language that no living person today spoke, the symbol meant life. Separately, the moons and the sunburst had different meanings. The sun was a glyph that meant fire. The moonlike symbol was harder to define, but according to Annabelle's linguist (because of course A-belle had a linguist the way other seniors in high school had manicurists), it meant knowledge.

  In practical terms, the tattoo was the mark of Life, the Third Fate. The symbols for fire and knowledge represented the powers that came with that position. Knowledge was the reason that Zo and I were able to have psychic boobies convos. I could hear people's thoughts and—if I really concentrated—make them hear mine. Occasionally, I could even control what other people were thinking, but I'd learned my lesson on that front. No more mind control for me. As for fire … well, let's just say that since I'd become the Third Fate, I'd had to keep my temper completely in check, because otherwise things had a tendency to get kind of heated. Literally.

  “You have a tattoo?” The person in the chair behind me was apparently not studying any more than I was. Study hall was such a joke. “You don't seem like you'd have a tattoo.”

  I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, so instead I just turned around, met the guy's eyes, and shrugged. Mr. Sits Behind Me in Study Hall didn't need to know that I hadn't exactly chosen to have this symbol permanently inked into my skin. Self-consciously, I tugged on the edge of my shirt, obscuring the tattoo from sight, and then turned back around.

  Temporary.

  The word echoed in my mind. Once upon a time (also known as two years ago), my friends and I had bought temporary tattoos at the mall, put them on, and acquired supernatural powers that we'd used to battle an evil fairy princess named Alecca. It was touch and go there for a little while, but ultimately we won, and as a result, I'd become the Third Fate. Eventually, my friends' tattoos (and their powers) had faded. Mine hadn't.

  Temporary.

  It was ironic. My tattoo wasn't supposed to last, but it did, and high school was supposed to last forever, but here it was, senior year. People were applying to colleges. My friends and I were thinking about our futures, and part of me couldn't deny the fact that after this year, the four of us might not be together. Annabelle was smart. Really, really smart, and lately she'd been talking about schools that didn't exist for me outside of Gilmore Girls reruns. Delia was daydreaming about New York City, and Zo and I were pretty much in denial about the whole thing.

  Temporary.

  Maybe that was just the way life was. The things that were supposed to last forever never did. Things were always changing. Every night, I wove, and life went on.

  Bah.

  “What's it of?”

  “Huh?” I winced at the way the nonword sounded as it left my mouth. I wasn't exactly articulate in the morning. Or, you know, ever.

  “Your tattoo. What is it?”

  Was it me, or was the guy behind me inordinately interested in my tattoo? I turned around again to get a closer look at him, trying to remember his name and if we'd ever actually met. He didn't look all that familiar. He had mussy hair and a half-smile on his pale face. Thinking of what Delia had said that morning, I glanced at his eyes and wondered if they qualified as “soulful.” If they did, I might just have found a new conquest for my geek-lovin' best friend.

  “It's a symbol,” I said, finally answering the boy's question. “It means stuff.”

  “Your tattoo is a symbol that means stuff,” the boy repeated.

  When he put it that way, it did sound kind of stupid, but I wasn't about to get into a discussion about what the symbol actually meant. I didn't want high school to end, but that didn't mean I wanted to get committed before I had a chance to graduate either. As a general rule, I was pretty sure that talking about destiny and my secret identity was a good way to get a oneway ticket to a room with padded walls. There were only three people (in this world, at least) who knew the truth about me, about my tattoo, and about what had happened two years before, and all three of them had been a part of it. They were with me when we defeated Alecca, and at the time, they'd had powers of their own.

  Annabelle, Delia, and Zo knew the truth, and I had no desire to clue anyone else in. Not my parents, not my ex-boyfriend, and certainly not the guy who sat behind me in study hall (who may or may not have qualified as a chic geek).

  Since I really didn't feel like talking any more about my tattoo or thinking any more about the fact that every day brought the end of the school year closer and closer, I did the unthinkable: I got out my physics book and started studying. This was a completely novel experience, and maybe not just for me. There was a decent chance that I was the first person to ever actually study in study hall at Oakridge High. I sort of expected the rest of the room to react, but nobody even noticed. They all just kept not studying in their own individual ways.

  Friction is defined as—

  Sidhe blue. Blood green.

  The colors took over my mind, and I didn't get to see what the technical definition of friction actually was.

  Sidhe blue. Blood green.

  Not here, I thought, my body frozen to my seat with the force of what I was seeing. Not now. There was a time and a place for those colors, and study hall was not it. In fact, the entire high school was a Sidhe-free zone. That was how this worked. I was an average girl (maybe even a little too average) by day, and one of the Sidhe by night. Simple.

  And that was when I heard the voices.

  To you we call,

  Our third of three.

  Child of power

  Who set us free.

  Darn them. Did the phrase public humiliation mean nothing to the voices in my head?

  Blood in your veins,

  The barrier holds.

  If balance wavers,

  The bridge unfolds.

  The horrible, unearthly beautiful voices sent a familiar shiver down my spine. I couldn't process the words, couldn't make my mind understand what they were saying because my body was focused entirely on the feel of their call in my blood. The words sat heavy and dormant in my mind, and I was quickly losing my grip on this reality.

  We call you now

  With earth and sea,

  Air and fire,

  So mote it be.

  My blood pumped. My body throbbed. The world around me disappeared into inky blue nothingness, and then, I was gone.

  I woke up in the Nexus, lying on the Seal. The etchings dug gently into my skin, cool on my lower back. My body sang, its connection to the stone beneath me strong. The Seal was my anchor here. Once upon a time, my blood had closed it, and n
ow the power of the Seal brought me to the Nexus (which, by the way, was the supersmart Annabelle word for this Otherworldly place) every night to weave the web of life.

  Lying on the Seal, I couldn't help but notice that it totally wasn't nighttime, and I so wasn't in the mood to work.

  “What am I doing here ? And what was with the whole ‘we call you’ spell thing?” I wrinkled my nose as I sat up. “In case you guys can't tell, this is me being not amused.”

  Immortal beings that they were, the man and woman who lived in this place were slightly less than intimidated by my Not Amused face.

  “Welcome, Daughter,” Valgius said, his deeply musical voice dishing out words specifically designed to remind me that in our cozy little threesome, they were the adults and, Seal or no Seal, I was the child.

  “Bailey.” Adea spoke my name softly, tempering the power of her voice and helping me to my feet. “This is your home as much as the mortal world is. You belong here, and you are needed.”

  Much like my earthly mother, Adea was a master of the guilt trip. Unlike my earthly mother, however, Adea was also a member of an ancient race of mystical beings whose world was magically separated from ours. The race itself had been called many things. To some, they were fairies. To the ancient Greeks, they'd been gods. To me, they were a royal pain in the tush.

  Among themselves and a small number of humans, they were known as the Sidhe.

  And each night, as the Third Fate, I was one of them: the only human-Sidhe hybrid in the history of either world. It was complicated and complex and a wee bit mind boggling, but basically, Adea and Valgius were my million-times-great-grandparents, and the whole Tattoo Escapade of Sophomore Year had awakened Sidhe blood that had been dormant in my family for centuries.

  Hence my double life, which now apparently included hearing voices, passing out in study hall, and waking up here.

  “Bailey, child, are you listening?”

  Eeep! I totally hadn't been, and if my nightly visits to this mystical place had taught me anything, it was that Adea and Valgius really didn't like being ignored.

  “So,” I said, offering them a weak smile, “what's up? Is there some fate that desperately needs fateing?”

  I couldn't think of any other reason that they would have brought me here. The last time they'd summoned me like this had been during the whole Alecca fiasco. Since then, I'd only come to the Nexus at nighttime, to weave as part of our otherworldly trio, different facets of the same whole. Birth. Life. Death. Valgius. Me. Adea.

  “Fateing can wait until tonight,” Adea said, brushing my hair out of my face in a motion disturbingly similar to the one used by my mother, the founding member of the Bailey, Get Your Hair Out of Your Face Club. “Now we must talk about your Reckoning.”

  I recognized the tone of her voice and could only conclude that this did not bode well for me. Adea said “Reckoning” the way most adults said “college.” In the past couple of years, I'd become an expert at spotting a “let's discuss your future” talk a mile off. I was also an expert at avoiding them. Unfortunately, my tried-and-true techniques for distracting my own parents probably wouldn't work on Adea and Val.

  “Reckoning?” I repeated, overcome with the feeling that this would not end well.

  Valgius smiled at my horrified expression. “Your introduction,” he clarified. “To the others and to the realm that lies beyond this place.”

  “What others?” I asked, my mouth dry with the implications of his words. “What realm?”

  “The others,” Adea said simply. “Those who dwell in the realm beyond. Those like us.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, trying not to audibly gulp. “Them.”

  I'd always known, at least logically, that there were more Sidhe than just Adea, Valgius, and me and that there was another world beyond the Nexus, connected to earth by what the three of us did each night. There was a big difference, however, between knowing something in a “yeah, that makes sense and sounds vaguely familiar” kind of way and in the way that involves actual thinking. It had never occurred to me—not even once—that I might have to meet these so-called others or go to their world.

  Adea put two cool fingertips under my chin, lifting it so my eyes met hers. “You've been one of us for years, Bailey, and the equinox marks the second anniversary of your union with the Seal. You grow stronger every day, and your strength calls to the others. We must bring you to them, or they will—”

  “Mabon is two days away, Bailey,” Valgius said, swiftly interrupting his counterpart's words and leaving me to wonder what exactly Adea had intended to say.

  Mabon, I thought, the word and its meaning taking up my entire brain. Mabon, the fall equinox, the day I'd destroyed Alecca and taken her place as the Third Fate.

  “Mabon is a day of power, Bailey.” Adea cut gently into my thoughts. “In the Otherworld, as on Earth, that means something. We can't shield you from what lies beyond this place forever. The beyond is your heritage, and those that dwell there are your blood. For better or worse, the three of us tie your world to theirs.”

  An odd look came over Adea's face then, as if the words she was about to speak didn't quite fit in her mouth. As if they weren't even hers.

  “Such ties are fragile left unguarded, and with their fragility, your life.”

  Cryptic, I thought, thy name is Adea.

  “And besides,” Adea said, her voice more her own, though the cheerfulness seemed forced. “It'll be good for you to meet the other younglings. There are things about who you are and who you are to become that your mortal friends could never understand.”

  Clearly, Adea had never met my friends. Magical craziness didn't faze them in the least.

  “Speaking of friends,” I said, “they're waiting for me. Back on Earth. You know, that place where I'm supposed to be right now?”

  That wasn't strictly true, but close enough. Delia, A-belle, and Zo were at school, even if they weren't in study hall and didn't know I'd left Earth for the Nexus.

  “Can I go back now?” There was a slight chance I was whining, but I couldn't help it. Passing out has a way of causing a scene, and I didn't exactly want to wake up to see the entire class crowded around me.

  Valgius sighed. “Go,” he said, playing the mystical dad role to perfection. “Return to your earthly hall of study, but remember, tonight the Reckoning begins.”

  * * *

  I woke up in a puddle of my own drool, my face pressed into my physics book. Uggggggggggg. I sat up slowly, allowing everything to fall back into focus, and as I looked around the room, I realized that nobody had even noticed I was unconscious. I'd passed out on my physics book, and everyone around me, including the possibly chic geek, had been so wrapped up in not studying that they hadn't even noticed.

  I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or insulted. The bell rang before I could fully decide between the two. As I gathered my books and walked out of the room, Geek Boy followed in my wake. “Hey,” he called, hurrying to catch up.

  “Yes?” I said, wondering why he'd chosen this day to talk to me when—in all likelihood—we'd been in study hall together for over a month.

  “You know that symbol? Your tattoo?”

  I nodded, even though the tattoo was the last thing I wanted to talk or think about right now.

  “I thought … well … I just …” He struggled to figure out what he wanted to say. “I think it means life,” he said, saying the words so quickly that they blurred together. “I just thought you should know.”

  My mouth literally dropped open, and I stood there, gawking at him. Geek Boy, the amateur linguist, had definitely just been upgraded to Geek Chic.

  “He recognized the symbol? Even Lionel didn't recognize it straightaway, and he's at the forefront of the field. The kind of archeolinguistic knowledge necessary to spontaneously translate something like that is just … wow.” Annabelle was, to say the least, impressed.

  Delia, on the other hand, was intrigued. “Now, when you say he had
mussy hair, do you mean mussy like ‘I don't know what a comb means,’ or mussy like ‘adorably tousled’?”

  “I don't know,” I said. “Maybe a little bit of each?” Then I turned to A-belle. “So it is a big deal that he knew what my tattoo meant, right? I'm not just imagining this. It's actually freaky?”

  “It's amazing” Annabelle said.

  “Personally,” Delia put in, “I like to think of it as hot.”

  Zo had been remarkably quiet throughout our conversation, so I glanced at her, allowing her to weigh in on the topic.

  “Are you going to finish those?” she asked, nodding toward my chili cheese fries.

  For reasons I'd never fully understood, teeny tiny Zo, who didn't stand an inch over five foot, had the appetite of a three-hundred-pound linebacker and the metabolism of an underweight hummingbird. When it came to food, she was as single-minded as Delia was about fashion.

  “The fries are all yours,” I said, pushing them toward her. Normally, I relished the fact that seniors were allowed off campus for lunch, but today, sustenance didn't rank nearly as high on my list of priorities as the guy from study hall, or the fact that I was mere hours away from being Reckoned.

  “You should ask him how he's familiar with the symbol's meaning,” Annabelle told me.

  “No,” Delia corrected. “You should ask him if he has a girlfriend.”

  “Mmmshhhwammmpppp,” Zo said, through a mouthful of chili fries.

  “You guys don't think he, like, knows anything, do you?” Because we were in public (aka the mall food court), I kept my words vague. Saying stuff like, “You don't think he knows that I'm not entirely human, do you?” was just asking for trouble, especially since the mall and the high school were just a mile apart, making the food court the single most popular lunchtime destination for Oakridge seniors.