I want to know what happened to the man who killed his mother. But if the thief who tried to take his phone is anything to go by, then I presume he came to a rather unfortunate end at the hands of Valdemar and Victor. Aware that time is pressing on, I change direction.
“What I don’t understand is your gift. You said you can’t be a Raven Hand without a gift. Did Victor Rue get lucky and just happen to stumble upon you by accident?”
Valdemar sits up, seemingly happy with the change of topic. “When you become the head of the Raven Hands, you’re delivered an extra gift—a foresight, if you will. He’d been looking for me.”
“He knew your gift?” If Valdemar picks up on the scoff in my voice, he doesn’t show it. I don’t mean to sound so dismissive, not after what he’s just told me, but I can’t help thinking this all sounds like something from a comic book.
“He didn’t know exactly what it was, just sensed that I had one.”
“I take it you now have this same foresight?” I guess.
“Yes.” He’s reluctant to discuss the gifts, this much is clear, but I push on.
“And you recruit—or recruitedwhen you weren’t in here.”
“Yes.”
There’s a bitter taste on my tongue, metallic and tangy, and it isn’t until Valdemar glances at my mouth that I realise I’ve bitten my lip.
“Is that why you took it upon yourself to recruit Ed?” Any earlier sympathy I had for him is gone.
“Your brother had a gift.”
The room tilts, memories washing over my skin: Ed and me in the park, him pulling on my hand as I set off running for the swings.
“No!” Ed shouted, grabbing my wrist so tight, it left a red mark on my skin.
“Hey, let go.” I tugged my arm back, but he held firm.
“You’re going to get hurt,” he insisted.
“I’m not a baby. I’ll be fine.” Then I pulled my arm harder and ran straight to the swings.
I mastered them easily as Ed watched from the side, a paleness to his already colourless skin. I laughed, flailing my legs wildly as the rush of air enveloped me, the feeling of freedom swallowing me before my left sandal flew from my foot. The momentary distraction caused me to lose my grip on the chains, and I wasflung forwards,flying weightlessly through the stagnant sky before hitting the ground with an undignified thud.
Ed rushed to my side, his utter panic delivering his breath in raspy gusts.
“I told you not to go on them.”
My tears fell, and I wiped them away with the back of my sweaty hand as I surveyed the two grazed knees I’d suffered despite the rubber tarmac that was supposed to soften my landing.
“Hey, are you okay?” Another parent had arrived, a mother in a thin jacket and worn sliders armed with tissues and a bottle of water.
Ed pulled me to standing, the pain in my ankle making me dizzy.
“I’m fine. We’re fine.” I gestured to Ed for him to steer us away from the woman. The only thing worse than not having a mother of your own was having to endure the pity of someone else’s.
I hobbled over to a large sycamore on the edge of the park that doused the grass in shadow and would shelter us from prying eyes.
“Are you okay?” Ed said at last, but all I could think of was what he’d said to me before I’d run for the swing.
“You’re going to get hurt.”
“How did you know?” I asked him.
He did what he always did and ignored my question, fussing over the graze.
“Ed, how did you know?”
