Chapter One

Chapter One

 

“LANCE!” Her screech reverberated down the dormitory hall like an oncoming hurricane.  Everyone within earshot, and that would be most everyone, knew what that ominous tone meant: there was about to be another Cavaleri showdown.  It was a common enough occurrence so no one was particularly surprised by the outburst, just annoyed really.  However, one didn’t become a Weaver without learning how to deal with annoyances, so each new person inducted into the dormitory was summarily issued a complimentary pair of earplugs and learned to deal with it. 

 

“WHERE IS MY HAND CREAM?” she continued, barreling down the hall like a woman on a mission, and began pounding on the door to 312 mercilessly.  On the third stroke, it was opened to reveal a platinum blond man smiling in some combination of innocence and impishness. 

 

“Why, hello, Irin,” he greeted, his smile growing even wider. 

 

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me, mister.  You are in big trouble!” she pointed a threatening finger in his face, seething.  She hated the fact he was so much taller than her, probably making her look much less threatening than she felt. 

 

“Whatever for, dear sister?” he goaded her, and her grey eyes all but spit hematite fire.

 

“You know exactly what!  I showed you that new hand cream mother sent me from France, and now it’s gone!  What have you done with it?”

 

“Oh that?” he tapped a finger to his chin in mock contemplation as he leaned against the door jam, and she looked ready to strangle him.  “Ah yes, I remember!  What do you think?” he asked, holding out his hand for her to inspect.  He wasn’t aware her face could get redder until that moment. 

 

She didn’t even need to take in the supple smoothness of his skin to know he’d been using her priceless French hand cream.  Her mother had sent that to her for Christmas only a couple of weeks past, and even if she hadn’t gotten around to using it yet, that didn’t mean it was Lance’s for the taking!  “You �" you �"” she spluttered, and when his smile expanded to show every single one of his obnoxiously white teeth, she saw red.  With a roar of fury, she lunged, tackling her good for nothing brother into his dorm room and began to wrestle him into submission.  He may have had an advantage in size, but she had her passion to fuel her. 

 

They garnered a bit of an audience outside the door as they rolled and tussled between the beds and desks, somehow managing not to do any permanent damage to the furniture.  Finally deciding he should stop laughing at the pair and step in, an eerily similar blond man shuffled through the group and into the room.  Taking a firm hold of Irin’s collar, he yanked her off of Lance while simultaneously holding out his other hand to prevent Lance from lunging. 

 

“Let me go, Jace!  I’m going to pummel him!” Irin squirmed in the firm grasp, but was unable to find purchase.  Lance, on the other hand, had stopped fighting, but his smile was still firmly in place. 

 

“Come on, you two,” Jace tried, and failed, to keep a straight face, “Can’t you at least pretend to be civil?”

 

“No!” Irin cried and continued to struggle. 

 

Jace chuckled further.  “What did he do this time?”

 

“He stole my hand cream from mom!  It was that really nice one from France, and I haven’t seen it since I showed it to him!” she pointed an accusatory finger at Lance.  Jace turned to Lance and lifted an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘well?’

 

Lance shrugged.  “What can I say?  I’m a sucker for a good moisturizer.”

 

Irin bristled and resumed her struggling twofold.  “Let me go!  I’m going to torture the shameless prick!”

 

“Oh, give it a rest, Irin.  You and I both know he’s just trying to get you all riled up, and you’re buying it hook, line and sinker,” Jace stated calmly while still holding her back.  “Calm down and we’ll get this all sorted, ok?” 

 

It took a few seconds for her to meet his eyes, but when she finally did, her posture slowly relaxed as well.  The only thing left to see of her ire was the look of anger still adorning her face.  “You’d better make him pay, or I will,” she threatened, eyes never leaving Lance’s smirking face. 

 

Jace released her collar and turned to Lance.  “Alright, man, cough it up,” he said, extending his hand. 

 

“Fine,” Lance sighed and went into the bathroom to retrieve the offending little bottle from the medicine cabinet.  “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he continued as he returned to the room and placed it in Jace’s hand.   “It’s not like she was ever going to use it.  She’s never even touched half the stuff in her bathroom, and the other half are lucky to see the light of day once a year.”

 

“That doesn’t mean it’s yours for the taking!  That stuff is mine!” Irin yelled.  Jace’s head whipped around, and she quieted immediately. 

 

“Here,” he said, handing her the bottle, “no harm done.  He’s barely even touched it.”  

 

Irin was still miffed.  “That’s not the point.  It’s the principle of the thing!” she claimed, but it was clear to the other two boys that most of her anger had dissipated. 

 

“You’re right,” Jace placated and turned to his brother.  “How about you just ask next time?  We both know she can be reasonable when she wants to.”  Irin shot Jace a nasty glare, but Lance just chuckled.

 

“What?  And miss this lovely show?  Her short temper is priceless!”  Jace rolled his eyes in exasperation and stuck out an arm to halt the lunge he knew was coming from Irin.  Even restrained, her growl was pretty impressive. 

 

“You’re such an idiot, dude,” he said as he began forcefully ushering his sister back out the door.  “One of these days I’m not going to bother stopping her, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”  Lance let out a full blown laugh as he shut the door behind them.  The few people who were left in the hall took one glance at the look of murderous rage on Irin’s face and made beelines for their own rooms. 

 

“You should have just let me at him,” she seethed, but she was no longer fighting against him. 

 

“Nah, you would have regretted,” he claimed, releasing her and straightening his shirt. 

 

She snorted in disbelief.  “No I wouldn’t.  He deserves it.”

 

“Be that as it may, you’d regret it in the morning.  At the end of the day, it’s just a bit of lotion.”

 

“Hand cream.”

 

“Whatever.”  He laid a soothing hand on her shoulder.  “He’s still your brother, and brothers trump hand cream.” 

 

She signed in resignation.  “Fine, I guess I’ll stop trying to kill him…this time.”

 

Jace chuckled.  “That’s my girl.”

 

“I still don’t get how you two can be twins, but you got all the nice genes and he got all the jackass ones.”

 

“It’s one of the mysteries of the universe.  Don’t forget, I got all the good looking genes, too,” he claimed, flipping his hair in such an overdone imitation of a male model that Irin couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“News flash, bro, but Lance’s got your good looking genes, too, so I wouldn’t go around bragging about it.” 

 

Jace laughed good naturedly and ruffled her hair.  “Well aren’t you just the queen of compliments today?  Now, can I go back to my room and pout, or do I need to stay out here and make sure you don’t do anyone bodily harm?”

 

Irin rolled her eyes as she tried to flatten her mussed hair.  “Nah, I think I’m good for now.”

 

“Glad to hear it.  I’ll be down in the gym if you need me.  Later sis,” he called over his shoulder as he headed back to room 312. 

 

Irin didn’t wait for him to enter, instead turning and heading for her own room in 327.  She threw open the door and flopped down on her bed unceremoniously, grateful that her roommate Nikki was nowhere to be found.  It’s not that she didn’t like Nikki; they were just orbiting on two different planes was all. 

 

After a moment or two, she cracked one eye open and noticed the bottle of hand cream was still in her fist, so she hauled herself up off the bed to return it to the en suite bathroom.  As she shut the mirrored medicine cabinet door, she ran a hand through her hair and started the tap.  She reached her cupped hands under the water to get a drink when a loud, obnoxious alarm sounded from the bedroom.  With a sigh, she took a quick sip from her hands and slammed the tap off. 

 

Once in her bedroom, she moved with the speed of instinct and muscle memory.  She didn’t need to think as she threw off her gym shorts and tank top to don her black cargo pants, fitted black shirt and matching leather boots.  She patted her pockets to make sure all of her equipment was there as she made her way to the corner by her bed where a sheathed blade was resting against the wall.  She picked it up and slung it over her back before pulling a holstered weapon from her bedside table and fitting it around her waist.  She slung her backpack over her shoulder, tucked her phone into its belt clip and headed out the door, tying up her silver-blonde hair as she rushed down the hall.  She met her brothers in the elevator at the end, where they were holding the door for her, and once inside, Lance jammed the button for the top floor. 

 

Normally, an elevator ride to the top floor of a building would be a tedious affair, but not in this building.  Here, the elevators were built for speed and efficiency.  When an alarm went off, there was no time for dilly dallying around listening to bad music, so the Cavaleri siblings knew to brace themselves as the lift took off.  It took five seconds flat for the doors to ding open on a floor that definitely did not match the office building exterior.

 

Irin smiled as she took in the open floor plan that resembled a cross between a Pentagon war room and NASA’s Mission Control.  People were bustling about everywhere, staring at monitors and poking at panels.  The auditory atmosphere was full of blips and beeps interspersed with curt commands and oftentimes outright yelling. 

 

The three wasted no time in getting to the conference room at the back corner of the floor.  It had floor to ceiling glass walls, a long rectangular table down the middle, plenty of electronic devices and a large projector screen which was already lit up.  It was known as the War Room, and rightly so: this is where all the battle planning went down.

 

“There you are, you lazy bones!  Took you long enough!” they were accosted with a deep, authoritative voice the minute Jace pulled open the glass door.

 

“We came immediately, and you know it,” Irin retorted as she grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the table in the corner.  The man just harrumphed.  He was a lot of bark, but they knew you really had to screw up to see his bite.

 

Lance pulled out a chair opposite the blue-blazered man and propped his feet on the table while Jace and Irin claimed the chairs on either side of him.  “So, what’s the sitch, Commander?” Lance asked as he crossed one foot over the other.  For a few seconds all that could be heard was the rustling of the Commander’s papers and Irin biting into her apple.

 

The Commander stood up and pointed the small remote in his hand at the projector in the back of the room.  With a click, the projected image changed from the standard background to a map of Ireland.  There was a big red dot on the island that needed no explanation.  “An hour ago we picked up a rift headed for Ireland, and the analysts just narrowed the timing down to 4 June 1432.  The rift was big, so expect 4-5 hostiles.  The ripple is expected somewhere in this stretch of dense forest, but we haven’t been able to locate the associated human activity.  The ripple has yet to surface, so you still have time.  This is a Level Three priority with emphasis on guarding the ripple and confiscating wands.  Only kill if absolutely necessary.  Understood?”  The Commander spoke with such authority few ever thought to disobey. 

 

“Yes, sir!” they chorused.

 

“Good.  You are to leave immediately from the Weave Bay.  Scotty has your coordinates waiting.”  The Commander stood, and they followed suit.  “Good luck,” he nodded curtly, dismissing them.  Scooping up their packs, they headed out the door for the opposite side of the building, nodding at familiar faces in the crowd. 

 

Saying the Eastern side of the floor was intimidating was the understatement of the year.  There were enough bars, barriers and bodyguards surrounding it to put the crown jewel security of various countries to shame, and rightly so.  The room that lay beyond all that protection was the least secure in the entire building, and no one was offering a chance for a hostile to exploit that weakness. 

 

The guards snapped to attention as the siblings approached.  One by one they placed their right palms onto a gel filled scanning screen and waited for the green light and simultaneous beep that allowed them to pass through.  They knew the scanner was doing a whole hell of a lot more than just checking their palm prints, but it was easier not to think about it. 

 

Inside the chamber was like something out of a sci-fi movie.  There was a raised platform in the center of the room where each of her brothers was already standing, facing her.  She walked up and took her place between them, turning to face the wall perpendicular to the entry, which was littered with monitors and digital readouts.  Three of the monitors were broadcasts of techs sitting in the next room over, and in the background of one, Irin could see another tech walking past, rapidly punching his fingers on a clear screen in his hands. 

 

Displayed on the largest monitor centered amongst the others was a thin man with messy brown hair, a lip ring and laughing blue eyes.  “Hey, Scotty,” Jace called with a wave. 

 

“Hey, mate, good to see you all again,” Scotty called back in his casual manner.  He was an Australian import, and Irin would be lying if she said his accent didn’t make her heart flutter just a little.  “I’m pulling up your coordinates on the screen right now.  Looks like you’re going to have to go make nice with the Celts, and it’s a bit more than a hop, skip and a jump, but it shouldn’t be any trouble for you guys.  There’s some current imagery coming up on your left �" looks to be woodsy, yeah?  Xandra’s going to be watching your Weave and verifying you when you come back in.  Everything’s good when you are.”

 

“Thanks, Scotty,” Lance replied as he stretched his arms over his head.  He didn’t need to look at the others to know Irin was cracking her knuckles and Jace was swinging his arms back and forth.  There was something to be said for sibling bonds and years of practice.

 

“Best of luck, mates, and if you stumble on some corned beef, you’ll bring me back some, right?” Scotty joked with a wink. 

 

“You know we will,” Irin winked back before turning to her brothers.  It was the last moment before the mission, and time for traditions to be observed.  She reached out and gripped Lance’s forearm as he gripped hers.  “Be safe,” she told him.

 

“You too, little sis.” 

 

Irin turned to Jace and repeated gesture.  “As always.  You too,” he told her.  She stepped back into her position as the twins clasped arms and exchanged similar words of safety. 

 

“See you on the other side, Scotty,” Irin called as she lifted her hands in front of her chest.

 

She held them apart, fingers not touching but not taut either, as if she were clutching a basketball.  With her destination in her mind’s eye, she slowly began to move them.  She twisted her hands in all different directions, back and forth, over and under, pushing and pulling, as if she were moving something that only she could see.  As she sped up, something faint and shimmering began to appear where she was manipulating her hands.  Fragile purple-white tendrils were following her hands’ commands, being carefully interlaced and interwoven into a final design only she could see.  Mere seconds later she finished her pattern and drew her hands apart to shoulder width, stretching the web until the lines squeezed together and emitted a flash of white light.  All the onlookers blinked to protect their eyes from the brightness, and in that split second she was gone. 

 

Scotty let out a low appreciative whistle.  “17.9 seconds,” he read off, and the twins shook their heads in mirrored looks of disbelief. 

 

“Over 550 years in under 20 seconds?”  Jace could barely believe what he was saying.  “She’s getting faster.” 

 

“Don’t tell her that,” Lance retorted.  “Her head’s big enough already.”  His accompanying smile negated any bitterness present in his comment. 

 

“You know she’s going to ask when she gets back, so you might as well get used to it.  See you in Ireland!”  With that, Jace began his own web.  He concentrated fully on the coordinates of his destination, both the location and the time.  Soon he began to see the lines he needed and reached out to them.  His movements weren’t as quick as Irin’s, but they were just as sure as he used just his index fingers to guide the tendrils into place.

 

Beside him, Lance was also creating a pattern, but it looked as if he were picking up and dragging the strands instead of having them follow his fingers.  Everyone had their own method, but the results were the same.  Simultaneously, as twins are sometimes wont to do, they finished their webs and drew them tight, emitting an amplified flash of light that had Xandra crying out from behind her monitor as she attempted to shield her eyes. 

 

Scotty just shook his head and smiled at their dramatic exit.  Glancing down at his sensors, he noticed their joint time of 30.4 seconds.  Not even close, he thought.

 

© 2012 Padfoot101