Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 33: Skins (Part 1)

I sit cross-legged on my bed, back pressed up against the wall, allowing the peace of the night to seep over me. The stars visible from outside my window twinkle mischievously at me, and a silvery full moon glows in the sky. I stare at the scenery for a while, my thoughts slowly calming in its tranquillity. Then taking in deep breaths, I close my eyes and visualise a space in my head. In that space, I imagine a door leading into the place where Abner will meet me. Its outline is hazy and blurred, but when I close my fingers around the doorknob, it feels just as solid as physical wood. I don't question the logic behind the sensation.

Pulling the door open, I step into the other space, feeling a distinct tugging sensation in my stomach—the same sensation I'd felt when I'd first entered a vision of my own accord. Perhaps it's an indicator that my mind has officially left the physical world and is stepping into the threshold of...this world. Whatever it's called.

No later than five seconds, I notice Abner shaping himself out of grey and black mist. I focus on the darkness beyond him, or else I'd be swarmed by dizziness. "You were fast," I say bluntly. I didn't expect him to arrive without me calling for him.

He gives a mocking bow. "I heard you call, milady."

I frown. "How?"

"This afternoon, you and that Champion of Strength were discussing to enter the visions?" When he sees my appalled stare, he adds, "No?"

Reluctantly, I give a nod. Abner notices my discomfiture, and starts to explain, "I'm a part of you Constantine, whether you like it or not. Some of your obvious thoughts are visible to me—that's how I knew that you wanted me here."

I back away from him. I suppose that if I want to, I could just exit the vision now before the conversation becomes too sinister for my liking. "Stay," Abner says, his voice laced with command. I try to take a step backwards, but find my feet walking forwards instead. Blind panic seizes me: Abner is using a compulsion.

Then he releases me from it; I almost collapse in relief.

Now that he's made it clear that he has no intention of letting me go before he has a chance to explain everything, I find myself peering curiously at Abner. "What are you?" The question I'd been holding back for weeks finally comes out.

"Wrong question, Constantine."

I think harder. "Who are you?"

"Much better. Now, do you have any suspicions of my identity?"

It's like he's purposely pressing me to lay all of my thoughts out in the open. But if this is what I have to do to get the answers I want, I'll do it. "Are you? You don't—" A false start. I take in a deep breath and clear my head, searching for the right words. I had mentioned to Gilbert that I didn't think Abner is actually my patron, but still, I have to make sure. "Are you Pst. Bronicus?"

"Yes and no." His answer confuses me—why can't he give a straightforward answer for once? "Think of me as part of Pst. Bronicus's being, a sliver of his power that has detached from him and formed something all by itself."

"O—Okay," I stammer, head feeling a little too light.

"I was the guide to all your predecessors. However, no guide comes without a price. Once a Champion dies, a part of their spirit comes to me, lending me a part of their power—Pst. Bronicus's power—and feeding me with more and more knowledge and wisdom of the world as time goes by. In turn, I pass this knowledge to their successor, and the cycle goes on."

"Oh." I'm not sure how to feel at the idea of part of my soul being fed into this...sliver of Pst. Bronicus.

"But that's not all." I grit my teeth. Abner ignores my glare and rambles on: "Once the current Champion dies, part of his spirit is also bound to a new spirit—the next Champion. As the strength of many slowly accumulates, the Champions become more powerful with time."