“They shut my powers off like turning a faucet,” I said. “Seems like they have it figured out.”
“Our world and the other side are bound by extremes,” said Ennia. “Where essences flow from one to the other. Where there is high heat, the other side reacts with cold, and if a person is born in that region the flow of essence leaves a mark upon them. But emotions are no different—in high pain, the other side and our own are stretched to where they can be tampered with. So too would it happen with absolute happiness, or sadness, or any extreme. Think, when your personality changes, it is often the result of high levels of emotion, something large enough to create the necessary extreme to alter your essence. Pain is simply easy to generate.”
“Seems like you know a lot about this for someone who was neighbors with the Litious,” Lucio said, suspicious. “How do we know you aren’t on their side?”
“Real convenient time to appear for an internship, eh?” Slugger added.
“Because as a Blender, this is what I do,” Ennia said. “The Litious have simply discovered a back door into it for themselves. An incredibly dangerous backdoor, might I add. Should they move too far along that path, alter too much of their essence, the results are unpredictable.”
“Divi is already unstable,” Arial said. “And they want a full revolution. Some of it’s justified, but, but—”
“They were eager to torture one person and murder another to make it happen. They’re insane,” I concluded.
“And so, it seems you have pieced together much of what I would have shared on your own,” said Lynns, beaming. “It appears that my attempts at education have proved fruitful.”
“That makes one of us,” growled Cane from where he had largely sat silent during the exchange. “For me, I’ve reviewed the footage from Lucio’s documentary. We obtained a copy, of course, for Lynns’ records. Your footwork,” he jabbed a finger at me, “needs more work than you know. You should have been struck dead twice back there. And Slugger, while strong, there is much yours can still employ. You’ve barely learned any of the techniques that typical Momentives employ. And don’t tell me there hasn’t been time, I know you spend most of your days holed up in that sewer.”
“We’re so grateful for you extending a hand to teach us,” drawled Slugger.
“Had it not been for this one’s rules, I would have long ago,” Cane said, jabbing a thumb towards Lynns. “But since he’s been sharing, so too will I. It pains me to see potential wasted.”
Cane pulled out a shoebox, placing it on the table, and the rest of us leaned forwards as he removed the lid.
“By now, you should be quite aware that we knew you were coming,” said Cane, dropping the lid under his chair. “We had this room rented tonight for the occasion. So I had some time to go shopping for gifts. Slugger, as my obvious favorite, you are first.”
Cane reached into the box, and pulled out a set of gloves, placing them on the table.
“As a Momentive, you can’t control your own mass, but you can control the mass of the objects touching you. These gloves are lined with lead in the front, giving your power something to latch on to rapidly, and hardened at the knuckles. Practice, but your punches should land far harder when you’re wearing them, as if your enemies are being hit by a freight train.”
“Oi, and you be wanting something in return?” Slugger asked, trying to keep his voice hard but his face softening.
“Just some footage of you using them against some real jerks,” Cane said, then pulled another object from the box, for Lucio. “And, boy, this is for you. Your deceptions are colorful and work well short term—but anything longer than a few days and they fall apart. I suggest you read it—you’re quite good already, but I’d like to see you better.”
Psychology Throughout the Ages, the title read, Jung, Freud, Pavlov, and Others. Their Insights, Teachings, and Misleadings.
Usually, Lucio would pull a face at the mention of reading, but he accepted the book, pawing through the first few pages, which were decorated by colorful illustrations.
For Arial,” continued Cane, and pulled out some tightly wound cloth. “You rely upon your powers of flight to slow yourself. While effective for stealth, I suggest you wear this in any form of combat.”
He let the fabric fall to the ground, revealing a set of fin-like wings with straps for the arms and legs, handing them to Arial, who held it up against her body.
“You can hide them beneath your clothes, and they take only a few seconds to strap together. But when you slow, fan them out. The effect is a torrent of wind against your opponent, a blow before the fight even begins. I see that bruise on your cheek and assume that it’s from a collision—protect yourself this way to initiate contact without injury.”
“This would have been incredible an hour ago,” said Arial. “Thank you, Cane. Now I just have to find out how to keep it hidden from my father.”
“Ennia, I apologize to have never had the fortune of schooling you, so I cannot gift you anything to match your skills. Instead, I give you this, as a loaner,” said Cane, and pushed another book across the table, a handwritten journal. “Lynns wrote this himself, and it was stolen by Siri long ago, until only a few days ago, we located it and swiped it back. It’s where they discovered how to use Francesca. With your knowledge of power application and essences, you should find it of great use.”
Lynns frowned as the book exchanged hands and clarified as Ennia’s face lit up with curiosity.
“In two weeks, it will be returned,” Lynns stated, disapproving. “We’ll come for it.”
On Power Amplification and Combination, read the title, The Effects of Chain Reactions and Their Consequences.
“It will be committed to memory,” Ennia said, and Lynns raised another finger.
“With this information, I give you power as well,” he said. “And I fully expect you to utilize it appropriately.”
“You have my word,” Ennia answered. “Academia bears the same responsibilities.”
“And finally, for you, SC, I have another book,” Cane said, taking out a thick tome and letting it hit the table with a thump. “Though there are only two words you need to read to gain the majority of its value.”
“Before you begin,” cautioned Lynns, “SC, we’ve already informed you that your power is not unique. The last Gravital roamed the earth four hundred years ago, the last time that a supernova was visible by the naked eye. And in the blink of history, they disappeared again. Back then, our knowledge of the natural world was far less than today, so only the cleverest and the luckiest among them learned how to use their powers to their full extent. Many, like you, lived to the end of their days throwing around simple black orbs. But many reached far greater heights.”
Cane pushed the book across the table, and his fingers underlined two words on the front page.
Collegiate Physics, From Relativity to the Quantum, the title read.
And underneath, where he pointed, was a name.
Kwan Thomson, it said as I raised an eyebrow.
“A university professor, with his information on the back page,” said Cane as Lynns looked away. “I highly recommend the two of you meet.”
Chapter 58
“And that,” said Lynns. “Closes our lesson.” He stood and pushed his chair, Cane following as the rest of us froze.
“That’s it?” Lucio protested. “Your power is knowledge and you’re only giving us that?”
“It does seem a bit empirical, bare bones,” said Ennia. “No additional extrapolations?”
“I’m here to help because the others cheated,” said Lynns. “And for now, I think you can figure out the rest. I could try to level out the scales more, but should you ever need aid in the future—well, I’m afraid I would be unable to provide it.”
“Or you could just say to hell with it and join us,” said Lucio, but Ennia shook her head before Lynns could speak.
“I’m afraid he couldn’t,” she said. “Literally. The
same as why I can’t lie. If his power is sticking true to knowledge, or history, alteration of that would go beyond his essence, his capabilities. I’m assuming that’s also why our new acquaintance was a CEO, that it was no coincidence?”
“Even when their essences are locked away, they still drive surface actions,” said Lynns, nodding. “People of great power gravitate to great power. Titans, I think you’ll find, typically will be those of great significance. Now I suggest we depart —Renalt will be with the police soon, and they will certainly be coming here for a chat. It would be best if we were not around. I wish you the best of luck—just because I cannot help you, does not mean I cannot root for you. I suspect we will meet again before this is through.”
We departed with a final thanks, waving as we spilled into the street and turned separate ways. We arrived back at the coliseum without trouble, and Ennia loosed a low whistle that brought a very concerned Lilac down to ferry us upwards. Between her and Arial, we were soon settled in the room of the coliseum, all our bed occupied for the first time since we had arrived.
“So does this put us on Blake’s side?” asked Lucio. “If we’re protecting Francesca, does that make us the bad guys?”
“No,” I said firmly. “Now that we know they want to keep her safe, it doesn't change our plans. Besides, they want to do it for different reasons than us. They want to use her.”
“So what's our end goal?” asked Ennia as she flipped through the book from Lynns. “Save Francesca? Find the Silver Tongues? Soothe the Titans?”
“It’s going to need to be all three,” I said. “Arial, what do you know about what the Litious are planning?”
“Not much,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “But I do know that today was not supposed to be their main event. They’re trying to make a scene, they want to be heard, to scare Specials. This was meant to drum up the press. Their real action should take place soon. Something public. I do know that, while I was making reports to the police, Matteo ran his own errands. Something to do with advertising—and Divi made it clear that among the regulars, they have many friends.”
“And Francesca mentioned that they’re performing tomorrow, in public,” I said. “What they did for Renalt was like a warm up. This is supposed to be a full season of shows, all at the Daedalus amphitheater.”
“And if it’s a full season,” said Ennia, her mind going to the same place as my own, “that means if they’ve found a way to use Francesca to trap Titans, they could simply take one to each of her shows. And that means that the Litious could attack at any one of them.”
“Very public,” said Arial. “And the height of her fame, with all the events lately.”
“Either way,” I said, my eyes moving over the city to the direction of the theater. “Security will be at its max. They won’t know what Divi can do, and then won’t be able to stop him. He’ll stride right in, in front of everyone, and eliminate Francesca. Making national news for his cause, and assuming Francesca is Siri’s replacement, creating chaos among the Titans.”
“Like you said, Francesca will be under high security, if she even shows,” said Arial. “She probably won’t come until right before the event, and she’ll have an escort. We’ll want to be there early. Do you think she’ll even be staying in her apartment?”
“I suspect they moved her there for safe keeping initially,” I answered. “She has a special elevator, and her room is practically barricaded off. Even if Divi got past her guard, which I’m sure has swelled in size several times over, he’d still need to get to her room, which is protected by electronic security and at the top of the skyscraper.”
“He’ll definitely attack at the theater, then. He’ll want a show that everyone can see,” said Arial. “Ultimately, our plan then is to trap him and let the police handle him. With Divi out of the way, we can focus on Blake and the others. We’ll no longer have to worry about Francesca. Though this business with the Titans, it sounds dangerous, maybe too much for us. We’d probably be best reporting back to Roland.”
I paused, then nodded. This was the exact type of thing he had warned us about, with international relations. One wrong move and we could send the city up in flames.
“Trap and bolt it is, then further investigate Blake and Francesca,” I said. “But we’ll also split up. Arial, you need to stay out of the way of the Litious.”
“But—” she said, and I cut her off.
“They want your head, Arial. They’ll kill you on sight, and you would be far more advantageous to us being the bird’s eye to watch Francesca approach. And, Slugger, Ennia,” I said, turning to them. “You two together are going to make our trap. Ennia, you’ll engineer it for us. And, Slugger, you have the only power that, when deactivated, plays out in our favor against Divi.”
Chapter 59
When we arrived at the theater, the expanse was nearly deserted. A few early fans scattered on the stone steps upwards, the seats ascending in a backwards cone, the stone insulating Rome away from the happenings inside. Perhaps when it was built, it had been intended as an early form of sound management or noise proofing, deflecting the waves away into the sky. But now, the structure looked too convenient to defect powers up and away, to dampen the power of an unleashed Titan. Even the opera boxes looked far more sinister, like castellations across the interior. Perhaps today they would be manned by high powered specials, with hopes to subdue the titan in case something went wrong.
We sat near the back row, and not simply because of the cheap tickets, still so expensive that they had cost nearly half the entire envelope of money we had brought on the trip. Rather, we wanted a view of the entire theater for when the attack arrived. And we wanted to be as far as possible from Francesca’s influence, in case her song turned upon us. Then there was the concern of her recognizing us among the crowd—from this distance, we could mesh among the faces, needing only to slink back behind those in front of us to stay hidden, keeping our hats low.
Then, of course, there was the matter of the trap for Divi, which relied entirely upon Ennia and Slugger.
“Do you think you have enough material?” I asked Ennia as her mouth moved, silently counting as her eyes trailed across the theater.
“Enough for two, seven hundred and twenty pounds each,” she calculated, nodding. “They just have to be assembled.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to do it quick enough?” I pressed. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been plenty of help, but each time you’ve entered the battle, it’s been a bit later than the rest of us. We’ll need to act quick here, before they know what is happening. We can’t afford a delay.”
“SC, my power isn’t like yours or Slugger’s,” she said, her voice turning to lecture. “I can’t simply summon it and start smashing. First, I have to understand what something I’m blending is made out of, its essence. It’s almost like a conversation with the material, wooing it to become something different. Turning a theater chair to bone is a completely different conversation than a dining room chair—for the theater one, I must convince it of the flair, of the show. For the dining room, it’s the regality of bone. Either way, it takes preparation, which I have been doing for the last twenty minutes in advance.”
“Good, so they’re ready to change?” I asked, and she nodded.
“If I were to make any sudden movements, I’m afraid they might change spontaneously on their own,” she said with a smile. “It’s like thermodynamics; they’ve already passed the energy barrier, they’re convinced. But the second reason my power isn’t fast is that I’m not simply telling them to change to bone—no, I’m telling them to change into alive machines. I have to calculate where the muscles and ligaments will change from wood in order to produce the proper forces for them to move. I have to make sure I leave enough structure in place so that they don’t snap, and that I give them enough energy that they can power themselves for a few moments. These machines are designed, like that heart I designed, like Lilac. In fact, this specific chai
r design was something that Taylor gave me as a project when I was first learning, and took me six months to complete. That’s why they are so rudimentary. Imagine every time you used your power, you had to solve calculus equations, or remember how trusses worked, or balance ten different force loads. That’s what takes time, and I’ve already planned that out.”
“Rudimentary?” I asked, the implications of what she was saying astonishing. “So that bridge when the earthquake hit, you designed that on the spot?”
“Oh, SC, you should see what I can make when I have a few hours of preparation, paired with a paper and pencil,” she said. “Plus a calculator if we want to get really fancy. Originally, I’d planned to make a few devices to protect Francesca’s apartment, though we haven’t had the time yet. But yes, that bridge was in the moment, which is why it looked like a monstrosity. The benefit is that human creations like chairs are so much easier to make into machines than, say, trees in the Amazon. Here everything is already a straight line, already carved into angles. In nature, it’s much more difficult.”
“Well, I’m impressed,” I said as more people trickled into the theater. Ennia’s eyes were on the stands where the choir would sit, combined with some weights that held them in place, and two vending carts that were wheeled away to opposite sides of the ground floor. I relayed the plan in my mind while the seats continued to fill, and chatter filled the enclosure, the event hyped up in the newspapers near incessantly after the attacks on Francesca the last few days.
After some discussion, we had decided only two traps were necessary—out of the Litious, only Matteo and Divi had revealed any truly powerful capabilities, and Arial had stated the remainder seemed to be in apprenticeship or training. “Likely able to deflect some power, but nothing too potent,” she had stated. “Their powers grow over time as they continued to train. As a general rule, the more tattoos, the stronger they are.”
That meant that whoever we couldn’t trap, we’d have to rely on our powers to subdue. But for the other two, the blueprints were ready in Ennia’s mind for weighted cages constructed of materials that would spontaneously animate themselves around the theater and slam together, fusing where they met. Their weight would be crucial—typically, she could grow bone roots into the concrete itself, but without knowing how far Divi’s power extended, that could prevent any sort of animation near him. Each power seemed to be affected by him at different distances, meaning the living cage would crawl forwards and stop just before him, sitting uselessly on the ground.
Titan Song (Star Child: Places of Power Book 3) Page 21