Call Down the Hawk (Dreamer, #1)(14)

One more. Was it really one more? Did it matter? It was as if some part of her had been hoping or anticipating that he would ask, because she heard herself say yes before she even really considered. That heart-head dissonance again. She wanted to be done, but she just couldn’t be until the world was safe.

“I was hoping you might say that,” Lock said. “Nikolenko is there with a package for you and new flight information. Meet her at the Costa.”

As her gate information appeared on the board, Farooq-Lane left it behind and navigated through the throngs of people until she found Nikolenko, a short, stone-faced woman with short, stone-colored hair. Nikolenko waited beside an angular young man in a T-shirt, suit coat, and tiny round glasses. He was extraordinarily tall and extraordinarily hunched. Elbows, knees, and Adam’s apple were all prominent. His shoulder-length blond hair was tucked behind his ears. He looked a little like a young undertaker or, with those skeletal features, like one of the cadavers.

Nikolenko handed him some money. “Go get a coffee.”

He looked at it as if he did not want a coffee, but people did what Nikolenko said, so off he shuffled.

Nikolenko handed Farooq-Lane an envelope. “That’s your ticket and the address of where you’re staying.”

“Lock said there’d be a package?”

“He’s the package,” Nikolenko said, jerking her chin to where the kid stood in line.

Farooq-Lane didn’t understand.

“He’s the Visionary,” Nikolenko said. “He’s going with you.”

Oh.

The Visionary was why they knew the world was going to end. The Visionaries. This kid was only the most recent of them, the second Visionary the Moderators had worked with since Farooq-Lane had started up with them. She didn’t know how many there had been before. Each of the Visionaries experienced intensely vivid and detailed premonitions, specifically focused on Zeds and other Visionaries.

Also, specifically focused on the end of the world.

Each of the Visionaries spoke of an apocalypse brought about in the same way, with starving, unquenchable fire. Dreamed unquenchable fire. Farooq-Lane didn’t know exactly how long the Moderators had been looking for the Zed who would dream this fire into being, but she knew that at some point an intergovernmental entity had been quietly formed. Moderators came from all corners of the world. Some of them were convinced by one of the Visionary’s predictions. Some of them were convinced by knowing a Zed and what they could do firsthand. And one of them was convinced by a need to prove to the other Moderators that she wasn’t complicit in her brother’s crimes.

Nathan had been their best lead so far. They already knew he wanted to see the world burn.

But his death hadn’t stopped the Visionary’s fiery prophecies.

Farooq-Lane eyed the Visionary as he counted out money at the cashier. “Just flying on an ordinary plane?” she asked Nikolenko. “Is that safe?”

“He’s been in control for months.”

Farooq-Lane couldn’t identify the feeling inside herself, but it wasn’t one of the good ones.

“I didn’t know I was going to have to take care of a teenager,” Farooq-Lane said. She hadn’t even known the Visionary was a teenager; she’d only ever seen descriptions of his visions. Farooq-Lane wasn’t very maternal. Life was messy until you were in your twenties, she felt, and she preferred to forget all her previous ages.

“He’s not difficult to handle,” Nikolenko assured her. “He just does what you tell him.”

That didn’t make it any better. “Why is he coming with me? I did fine with the descriptions before.”

“He’s close to done. He’s getting fragmented. It’ll be easier for you to talk the visions out with him.”

Close to done? Farooq-Lane didn’t know much about the life spans of the Visionaries, but she knew the end was nothing you wanted to be around for. “I—”

“Look, princess,” Nikolenko interrupted, “you have the easiest assignment here. Take Lurch there and find the Zed he’s seeing. Be on the lookout for another Visionary to replace him. Call us when you find something. Then the grown-ups will fly in and take care of it so you don’t have to get your shoes dirty again.”

Farooq-Lane would not be made to feel bad for being a reluctant killer. She and Nikolenko glared at each other until the Visionary returned with a coffee.

“I won’t drink this,” he told Nikolenko. He had an accent. German, maybe. “Do you want it?”

Without hesitation, Nikolenko took it from his hand and dropped it into the trash can beside her, one smooth motion. “Problem solved. Check in with Lock when you get there, Farooq-Lane.”

Without another word, she departed. The Visionary eyed the trash can where the coffee had just met its end, and then he eyed Farooq-Lane.

Farooq-Lane held out a hand and introduced herself to her new charge. “Carmen Farooq-Lane.”

He shook her hand, then repeated her name carefully before introducing himself to his new keeper. “Parsifal Bauer.”

When she opened the envelope, two tickets for them slid out right into her hands, eager to be out of confinement. “I guess we’re going to be spending a lot of time together in … Washington, DC.”

As good a place to save the world as any.