Broken Visions (Page 47)

My father takes her hands in his. “Everything will be okay, Jocelyn. Stephan assures me that once I help him, we can be together; that he’ll make it so your parents won’t have any problems with us wanting to get married.”

My mother swallows hard. “Julian, please don’t do this… I’m begging you”

“It’ll be alright.” My dad cups her face in his hands and leans closer. “Stephan just needs my help with something and then this will all be over. And you and I can begin our happy life together.”

She looks like she wants to say something but can’t. “Help you with what? Has he even told you?”

“He hasn’t, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

My mother itches at her wrist, right where the Mark of Malefiscus is now, but her long-sleeved shirt covers it up. She keeps scratching and scratching like she’s trying to claw her skin off.

“Please don’t go, Julian,” she pleads. “I’m begging you not to.”

“I have to otherwise, I’ll never have this.” And then he kisses her.

I let out a shaky breath as the picture fades back into the star. They seemed so normal and in love, not evil or marked, not about to end the world.

I move to the next star and wait for it to light up, wondering what I’m going to see next. When the screen shines across the blackness, my body tenses. Stephan is sitting at a long mahogany table, dressed in black, his hair slicked to the side, and he’s grinning. Across from him, is my dad with his arms on the table, the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up revealing that his arms are mark free.

“I have to say, Julian, I’m surprised you showed up.” Stephan says. “Jocelyn must mean a lot to you.”

My dad shifts in the chair and then tucks his arms underneath the table, anxious. “Is it true you can create marks? Can you really mark me as a Keeper?”

I nearly fall to the ground. That’s what he wanted? He wanted Stephan to make him a Keeper?

“Hmmm…” Stephan grazes his finger across the scar on his cheekbone, musing. “Is it true there’s a way for a Foreseer to change a vision?”

My dad’s expression plummets. “I—I don’t think so.”

Stephan slants forward in his chair toward my father. “You know what I hate more than anything, Julian?” he asks in an icy tone, his eyes darkening. “People who lie. I can’t stand f**king liars.”

“I’m not lying, sir,” my dad says, his voice faltering. “I swear, I’m not.”

Stephan digs his fingernails into the wood of the table, as if channeling his anger there. “I understand there are rules that the Foreseers have that forbid you to tell me.” He scoots back and then rounds the table, halting in front of my father. “Give me your arm, Julian.”

“What?” My dad gapes up at Stephan. “Why?”

“Give. Me. Your. Arm,” Stephan repeats in a firm tone.

My dad exhales loudly then extends out his arm. Stephan retrieves a knife from the table and without warning, plunges it into my father’s forearm. “Vos es venalicium!”

My dad whimpers out in pain, his fingers moving for the knife. But it’s too late. A mark appears on his wrist as blood seeps out of his skin and dribbles onto the floor. “Why did you… I don’t understand,” my father stammers, pressing his hand to the wound.

Stephan tosses the knife onto the table, grinning. “Now you have no choice but to help me.”

My father removes his hand from his arm and gasps in horror. Along his forearm, there’s a black triangle outlining a red symbol.

“But you said you would give me the Keeper’s mark.” My father turns his arm toward Stephan. “What the hell is this?”

“Oh, you’ll soon find out,” Stephan says darkly.

The light diminishes into the star as my knees give out and I sink onto the starry ground. My mother lied. My father didn’t want power. He wanted to be with her. He thought he was becoming a Keeper. Why did my mom lie about this? Or didn’t she know the truth? Was the only story she knew from Stephan’s point of view?

But then Stephan had told me that a person had to possess evil blood for the mark to work, so either my father has some sort of evil hidden in him, or Stephan was lying about that and he can put the mark on anyone. Both scenarios make me shiver.

The man has ruined too many lives and it’s time to stop him. Filled with determination, I push to my feet. I need a way to find out a way to figure out which star held the right memory. I sort through my memories, trying to think of something that may have been mentioned in the past. Nicholas and my dad both said something about my mind having the answers. If I could just see which one holds the right memory… I get an idea as I think of the Foreseer book and concentrate on not seeing the stars, but seeing the one that carries the memory of my dad when he altered the vision that will lead to the destruction of earth. The stars begin to glimmer, playing a melody of color, and then a silver cloud rises from the ground. I move back as it slithers across the stars like a snake and into the darkness and I chase after it, weaving around stars, until it finally comes to a stop above a lavender one that shines brighter than all the others. The magical cloud swoops into the air and then swan-dives down into the star. I stop and wait for the screen to light up, but no light or movie clip appears so I lean over and peer into it. There’s a faint light emitting from the center and hesitantly, I bend down and brush my fingers against it. Energy jolts through my body and the ground trembles. The ground below my feet cracks and then begins to break. I let out a scream as the entire starry area around me crumbles, taking me with it.

Chapter 31

When I land, it’s soft and I’m breathless. I’m on a hill with my back to the Keeper’s castle, and in front of me, the lake and the trees, crisp with ice and frost, the water frozen, the sky cloudy and grey. And Death Walkers are everywhere.

My dad comes walking down the hill toward the lake. He’s still around twenty but he’s wearing the same silver robe he was wearing in the Room of Forbidden. His face is solemn, his violet eyes fixed on the lake with worry shadowing them. He doesn’t seem to notice me as he passes by, so I follow after him, figuring I’m in vision form.

“Where is it?” he mutters as he halts at the icy shore of the lake.

Death Walkers creep out from the trees, their black cloaks dragging across the snow, their yellow eyes reflecting against the ice. I shiver as the ground quivers with the beat of their march and when Stephan emerges from the forest, not too far off from where we stand. He has on a black cloak with the hood over his head and his eyes seem to light up in delight as he takes in the winter wonderland. He motions at someone behind him and out steps a man, much shorter than Stephan, wearing a cloak.