“There.” She held the book out to Liv. “Does any of this sound familiar?” Liv leaned closer, and they started to turn the pages together, nodding. Marian straightened and took the book from Liv. “Now. How can a regular Mortal Kelt, Olivia?”
“He can’t. Unless he’s not a regular Mortal, Professor Ashcroft.” They were smiling at me like I was a kid who had taken his first steps, or like someone was about to tell me I had a terminal illness, and the combined effect made me want to bolt.
“You mind letting me in on the joke?”
“It’s no joke. Why don’t you see for yourself?” Marian handed me the book.
I looked at the page. I was right about the textbook part. It was some kind of Caster encyclopedia, with drawings and languages I didn’t understand on every page. But some of it was in English. “The Wayward.” I looked up at Marian. “Is that what you think I am?”
“Keep going.”
“The Wayward: the one who knows the way. Synonyms: dux,speculator,gubernator. General. Scout. Navigator. The one who marks the path.” I looked up, confused.
For once, Link wasn’t. “So he’s like a human compass? As far as superpowers go, that’s pretty lame. You’re like the Caster equivalent of Aquaman.”
“Aquaman?” Marian didn’t read a lot of comics.
“He talks to fish.” Link shook his head. “Not exactly X-ray vision.”
“I don’t have any superpowers.” Did I?
“Keep reading.” Marian pointed to the page.
“Since before the Crusades, we have served. We have had many names, and none. Like the whisper in the ear of China’s first emperor as he contemplated the Great Wall, or the loyal companion at the side of Scotland’s most valiant knight as he toiled for his country’s independence, Mortals with great purpose have always had those who guided them. As the lost vessels of Columbus and Vasco da Gama had those who guided them to New Worlds, we exist to guide Casters whose paths hold great meaning. We are—” I couldn’t make sense of the words.
Then I heard Liv’s voice next to me, as if she had committed the words to memory. “The one who finds what is lost. The one who knows the way.”
“Finish it.” Marian was suddenly serious, as if the words were some kind of prophecy.
“We are given to the great, for great purpose, to great ends. We are given to the grave, for grave purpose, to grave ends.” I closed the book and handed it back to Marian. I didn’t want to know any more.
Marian’s expression was difficult to read. She turned the book over and over in her hands and looked at Liv. “Do you think?”
“It’s possible. There have been others.”
“Not for a Ravenwood. Or a Duchannes, for that matter.”
“But you said it yourself, Professor Ashcroft. Lena’s decision carries consequences. If she chooses to go Light, all the Dark Casters in her family will die, and if she chooses to go Dark…” Liv didn’t finish. We all knew the rest. All the Light Casters in her family would die. “Wouldn’t you say her path holds great meaning?”
I didn’t like the way this conversation was going, even though I wasn’t completely sure where it was headed. “Hello? I’m sitting right here. Want to clue me in?”
Liv spoke slowly, as if I was a kid at the library for a read aloud. “Ethan, in the Caster world, only those with great purpose have a Wayward. Waywards don’t come along often, maybe once in a century, and never by accident. If you are a Wayward, you’re here for a reason—a great or terrible purpose, all your own. You’re a bridge between worlds for Casters and Mortals, and whatever you do, you have to be very careful.”
I sat down on the bed, and Marian sat next to me. “You have a destiny of your own, like Lena. Which means things could become very complicated.”
“You think these past few months haven’t been complicated?”
“You have no idea of the things I’ve seen. The things your mother saw.” Marian looked away.
“So you think I’m one of those Waywards? I’m a human compass or something, like Link said?”
“It’s more than that. Waywards don’t just know the way. They are the way. They guide Casters along the path they are destined to take, a path they might not otherwise find on their own. You might be the Wayward for a Ravenwood or a Duchannes. It’s not clear which at the moment.” Liv seemed to know what she was talking about, which didn’t make sense. That’s what my mind kept going back to as I stumbled over what they were saying.
“Aunt Marian, tell her. I can’t be one of these Waywards. My parents are regular Mortals.” Nobody said the obvious, that my mom had been a part of the Caster world, like Marian, only in a way no one would ever talk about, at least not to me.
“Waywards are Mortals, a bridge between the Caster world and ours.” Liv reached for another book. “Of course, your mother was hardly what you could call a regular Mortal, any more than I am, or Professor Ashcroft.”
“Olivia!” Marian froze.