Third

Originally written Saturday, January 14, 2006

His smile spread out. He said, “The amulet, when the charms are put together, allows its users to shift energy. The kind that you always go on about. Soul energy, legacy, selfhood. Whatever you want to call it. On a large scale. Pretty powerful stuff.”

Later, I’d realize just how much enjoyment he was getting from watching my reaction. But in the moment, I was in the reaction as well. What he was describing was tantamount to playing god. The fragments of energy that compose every individual and, according to the teachings of my School, must remain largely fluid to hold the universe’s beings together, are subject only to the conscious control of a lucky few, including myself—and then for very personalized and individual ends. The idea that someone could influence the energy of legacy beyond the confines of her immediate vicinity was at once stunning, horrifying, and—when I thought about how near to this power I was—exhilarating on many different levels. Yes, this certainly went beyond the solitary charms’ ability to put a naïve vampire in a trance. I could barely prevent the thrill of self-importance from infecting my voice. “How did you find this out?”

“From your best friend. And mine, too. I should make it clear right now… we may be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”

Under any other circumstances, I might have been OK with that. I might have quipped about there being plenty worse people to plan to see a lot of. But I was already unnerved by the scenario even though my mind was zipping through many of the possibilities that could be open to me, provided I could obtain the third piece before Richard or this Kay person could find my two. That’s when Richard disclosed the catch.

“The amulet only works when all three in the triumvirate work together. No flying solo here.”

This was the second time he’d used the word; the first time, I thought he was simply using it descriptively, but this time it sounded like it might warrant a capital T: Triumvirate. If Richard were telling the truth this time—and for once, his words seemed to explain much more than they contradicted—then I was eager to learn about the ingenious device’s origins. A primitive yet powerful object with a built-in system of checks and balances. Where had Bella gotten her piece? What had been its original purpose?

“So this Triumvirate. And by the way, what a pretentious name. You’re thinking of you, me, and this Kay?”

“Well. Kay is thinking of you, me, and Kay. But I wanted to get to you before she did so we could… discuss. You know, I’ve known for a while that this”—and at this point, he dug out his replica of the coral charm and placed it on the table—“is not what it’s supposed to be.” He paused and made it clear he was watching me. “Where’s the real one?”

I didn’t know what to say and so remained silent. I moved not so much as a facial muscle.

“What’s wrong? Got so used to lying you don’t know how to take it back? You have two of them. Somewhere. Thanks to my moron of an intern. And Kay has one. But you and I have had a long history, and despite this recent lapse of good judgment on both of our parts, I think it’s in our best interest to get a hold of hers. Find a third of our own choosing.”

The events of this day to be continued...