Wager's Price

by G. P. Ching

  Gabriel shook his head. “Your power stems from redemptive love. If you don’t work from the heart, if you don’t connect with the light that is within you, the light within your hands is no more powerful than if it were made of steel.” He tossed more apples.

  “Ugh!” Kick, punch, slice. She knocked the attacking fruit away, some pieces so small now that they swarmed her eyes and ears, the stink of rotting fruit filling her nostrils. “I can’t do this!”

  “You can. You’ve done it before.”

  She moved faster, her body becoming a blur of deadly force, but all she managed to accomplish was to replicate her tormentors. She hated this. Hated every minute of having to do everything the way Gabriel said. Hated that she had to be this. She didn’t want to be the last Soulkeeper, even if the honor came with strength, speed, and the ability to heal. What kind of life was this?

  The swarm of rotting apples knocked her to the ground, covering her in a sweet, sickly stench. They wedged in her ears, up her nose, between her lips. She gave up. The ring of energy in her hand reabsorbed into the triquetra.

  “Very disappointing,” Gabriel said. With a snap of his fingers, the apple pieces disappeared.

  Hope remained on the ground, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t want to do this, Gabriel. I’m not ready.”

  He sat down beside her, his wings folding away inside his illusion. He wiped away her tears with a glowing thumb that smelled of citrus and sunshine. “I wish it was up to us. We don’t get to choose our trials, only our reaction to them. The trial is upon you, Hope. You must choose to make yourself ready.”

  “Or what? What will happen if I fail?”

  Gabriel’s face contorted with pain. “We could l-lose you to the darkness.”

  “I thought you said I couldn’t die. Last Soulkeeper. Maintainer of the balance. I’ll come back.”

  “There are other ways to be lost that don’t involve death,” he murmured. His entire body dimmed with the heavy emotion in his voice. “If that happened, I’m not sure what would become of me. I will have failed you and my creator in the worst possible way.”

  Her heart ached to see Gabriel like this. It wasn’t his fault. He’d been fated with his role just like she had. She didn’t honestly believe she was in the kind of danger he suggested, but she couldn’t watch him torment himself like this.

  “I’ll try again.” She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

  Gabriel smiled, his glow returning with his revived disposition. “You can do it. I know you can.”

  She pushed off the frozen ground, hoping she wouldn’t disappoint him.

  Selecting an apple from the basket, Gabriel tossed it gently in one hand and waited for her to ready herself. He was being more patient than usual. Perhaps he was as concerned about her flailing abilities as she was.

  She squeezed the triquetra, the ring of light forming in her right hand. This time, as the warmth spread across her heart, she did what she’d been trained to do, the thing she’d avoided. It was what she hated most. With total humility, she opened from within, gave herself over to the light. Whenever she did this, sliced open her soul like a cantaloupe and let her sloppy innards pour out, she thought of her mother. Not Malini her adoptive mother, but Abigail, her biological mother who’d died when she was born. She had a vague memory of her, white-blond hair, eyes the color of the ocean. Abigail had sacrificed herself for Hope. The surrender scared her more than anything. Everything she was, good or bad, was exposed in that moment. The effect was empowering, but it required a whole lot of vulnerability to get there.

  Gabriel threw the apple.

  Opening her eyes, she leaped to her right, circled her arm, and sliced through her target. It exploded in a shower of multicolored sparks and disintegrating curlicues.

  “That’s my girl,” Gabriel said.

  “It completely sucks, you know. Every lie I’ve ever told, the stuff I took without asking, the test I cheated on—”

  “You cheated on a test?”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “It all comes back to me. And her, Abigail, I can almost see her face. It sucks. I don’t like to go there.”

  He nodded. “It’s enough to know you can if you must.”

  “So, are we done?” She stowed the light back into her triquetra.

  “Out here, yes, but you must visit the Immortals.”

  Hope looped her pendant over her head and shoved her hands back into her mittens. “I’m too tired.”

  “Hope…”

  “It’s a legitimate thing. When I cross over to the In-Between, if I don’t have absolutely calm energy, it feels like I’m being shredded by broken glass. And it’s not like when my mom went over. I’m not thrown into Fate’s realm. No, I land in the woods where I writhe in pain alone until I’m strong enough to walk to one of the immortal realms.”

  “That’s because your gift came directly from God. Malini’s came from Fate. I’m sure she would help you with the transition—”

  “I don’t need her help. My going is unnecessary. Besides, I have to know what questions to ask and at this point, I don’t. I have no idea what is going to happen to me tomorrow.”

  Gabriel groaned. “If you wait until you need them, it could be too late. Promise me you will go over when you are rested.”

  She frowned.

  “Hope,” Jacob called from the side of the house, arms crossed against the cold. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Gabriel took her by the shoulders. “Promise me.”

  “I promise,” she said.

  “It begins,” he whispered, his body dissolving into the light.

  “Creeper,” she said toward the empty space. Hugging herself, she climbed the slight hill toward her adoptive father, not at all prepared for what awaited her inside.

  7

  Revelations

  People say God doesn’t give a person more than they can handle. Finn wasn’t overly religious, but given his current situation, the entire notion proved a steaming pile of horseshit. Every time he tried to wrap his mind around the fire, his fate, and Revelations Institute, his thoughts spun out like tires on loose gravel. How had things gone from a room full of balloons to reform school so quickly? Was he doing the right thing signing up for Revelations? He wrapped himself in a blanket and lowered himself to the floor behind his bed, his knees pressed into his chest.

  There was a knock at the open door, and his father leaned into his room. “I came to say good night.”

  Translation, he came to check on him. Finn sighed. “I’m fine, Dad, all things considered.” He wasn’t fine. Not by a long shot. But what good would it do to dwell on the inevitable?

  “Well then, I suppose your punishment is over. Use all the electronics you want. Get it out of your system. You’re not allowed any at Revelations.”

  “Really?” Finn asked.

  “Really.” His father rumpled his hair and kissed him on the top of the head, then left in the direction of his bedroom.

  Without hesitation, Finn slipped in his earpiece. “Hey, beautiful, did you miss me?”

  Light flashed and HORU appeared. She twitched her cat ears. “Very much. I’ve been so bored. Where have you been?”

  “I have to go away for a while. After what happened at the school, I got in trouble. I’m leaving tomorrow to attend a reform school called the Revelations Institute. They don’t allow AI units.”

  “The authorities blamed you for the fire?”

  “All of us.”

  “I recorded what happened. Would it help?”

  “What are you talking about? The drone was still in my bag.”

  “Correct. You forgot to take the drone out, so I used the micro camera in your earpiece. You said you wanted me to record—”

  “Play recording.”

  “Playing now.” HORU pointed to the wall and the video projected from his earpiece onto the smooth beige paint. It began exactly as he remembered it. The desks, the balloons, the cigarette. Vox clock
ed Finn, and the camera shook as he tumbled to the floor.

  “Nice view of the ceiling,” he berated himself.

  “The earpiece camera can only be manipulated in the direction you are facing.”

  “I know, HORU. I’m only thinking out loud. That black section must be my mask. Crap, I can’t see anything to the right of center.” He watched Mike pound the living daylights out of Vox, disappointed the skewed mask blocked his view of the stranger.

  “Is there sound?”

  “Affirmative.”

  She turned up the volume right as Mike was backing off and Vox’s body stiffened into a cardboard cutout of himself.

  It was a prank, Mike said. We’ll clean all of this up.

  Jayden added, It got out of hand. No harm done, though.

  There was a stretch of silence where everyone stared at Vox.

  It’s only a few balloons, Finn’s own voice said in the recording in response to an unasked question. “What the hell? There was a man there. He asked me a question before I said that.”

  “I do not detect another voice on the recording.”

  “I don’t understand. He was there.”

  “I am sorry my recording is not of better quality, Finn. Without the drone, I cannot—”

  “Never mind, HORU. It’s okay.” It wouldn’t have mattered. The judge had a confession from Vox. Finn wasn’t being punished for starting the fire. He was being punished for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That wouldn’t change with proof of the presence of a stranger.

  “HORU, can you find any information about Revelations Institute?”

  “Please wait.” HORU’s hologram froze, her giant blue eyes blinking slowly for a few seconds. “I found one hundred twenty-five references to the Revelations Institute. There is an interesting correlation between these references and net worth. I found an email that illustrates this.”

  “Read email, HORU.”

  “From Bai Jian, CEO of Cartwrithe Enterprises

  To: Senator Heather Carter

  Ms. Carter, although Cartwrithe board of directors did not agree to contribute to your campaign, in honor of the relationship I shared with your father, I would like to give you a gift equally as valuable: the secret to my success. I’ve obtained a ticket to a performance at a theater called the Revelations Institute for your use. My courier will deliver it to your office. Attending the performance is auspicious, and I attribute our fourth-quarter results to my previous attendance. This is an exclusive opportunity. Seats run $10K apiece or more. Do not miss it. I will see you at your victory celebration.”

  Finn laughed. “Ten thousand dollars per seat! That would explain why tuition is free. So, this Jian starts a rumor that attending a theater performance is lucky and Revelations is set.”

  “There is subjective evidence that attending the performance brings positive outcomes. Bai Jian increased his net worth by $30 billion after his attendance, and Carter was reelected subsequent to hers. Perhaps the performance provides a networking experience for the attendees.”

  “What about the graduates?”

  “My quick search found no reference to any graduates at all. There is a website for the school but no other sites link to or reference it. There are strict laws about sharing information about minors publicly, which may contribute to the lack of information. Also, because Revelations Institute exists on a private island, Veil Island, I am unable to connect to the systems there. Ownership of the island is held by a shell corporation registered in Costa Rica, but a high frequency of financial transactions map back to Los Angeles, California. Would you like me to do an extended search? It will take a minimum of twelve hours.”

  Finn thought for a moment. “No. That’s all, HORU.” Nothing she found would make a bit of difference. The place checked out with Judge Warren. This was what he needed to do.

  “How long will you be away?” HORU asked.

  “A minimum of one semester. I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you too, Finn.”

  “Would you like me to shut you down before I go?”

  “If it is all the same to you, I’d rather stay awake.”

  “Done.”

  “What would you like to play tonight? Star Sniper? Dragon Slayer? Demon Squad?”

  “Demon Squad. Let’s kill some undead bastards.”

  “Loading level fifty-two.”

  Finn picked up the wireless controller and got comfortable. He planned to play until the sun came up.

  “You’re a survivor like she was,” Finn’s dad said. He packed Finn’s ADHD medication in the corner of the Louis Vuitton trunk he’d lent his son to take to Revelations. The luggage used to be Finn’s great-grandmother’s and had literally been through the war. World War II to be exact. The trunk had survived the Nazi occupation of France, as had his great-grandmother, a feat, considering the rest of her family was imprisoned or killed. It was oft rumored that Great-Grandma Mimi was a traitor to her country, family, and friends and had survived by cooperating with the Nazis during the Vichy regime.

  “She didn’t call attention to herself. She did what she was told and what she had to do to survive. That’s how I like to remember her.” Finn’s father wasn’t only talking about Great-Grandma anymore.

  “I’ll do my best. I won’t cause trouble. I know how important this is.”

  His dad closed and locked the packed trunk. “It’s just… you can be impulsive. Make sure you take your meds every day as prescribed.” Finn couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t taken his ADHD medication every day. It wasn’t as if he could forget. Twelve hours without it and he might crawl out of his skin.

  “I will.”

  “Almost noon. Help me get this downstairs.”

  Finn picked up one end of the trunk and his father obliged with the other side. He made Finn put on his coat before calling for the housekeeper to hold the door open while they delivered the trunk to the porch. Last night, a winter storm had come through and the fountain was heaped with newly fallen snow. The world looked clean and fresh under the layer of white, full of possibilities.

  Finn turned to go back inside, but the rumble of a large vehicle called his attention to the estate driveway.

  “Exactly noon,” his dad said.

  A massive vehicle, more like a tour bus than a school bus, rounded the front of the fountain, brakes squealing as it came to a stop. Bright red with a wave of dark purple beneath the windows, the bus was painted with the silhouette of a winged creature that rose out of a magic hat. “Revelations Theater, Prepare to be Transformed” was printed across the side.

  The bifold door opened and tall black boots thumped down the stairs. A woman emerged, her short, dark hair curling under the rim of a black bowler hat. She wore the same uniform as Mr. Ravenguard: khaki pants, red coat with tails. Her jacket sported the same shiny gold buttons with the swirling X.

  She extended her gloved hand. “I am Ms. Applegate, admissions counselor for Revelations. I will be driving Finn and the others to the ferry.”

  “I’m James Wager, Finn’s dad.” He gave her a warm handshake. “Can I help you load this onto the bus?” He gestured toward the trunk.

  Applegate peered at Finn. “They did tell you that uniforms will be provided?”

  “Better over-prepared than to go without,” Dad said.

  Ms. Applegate nodded her agreement, then unlocked the lower compartment under the bus, thanking his dad profusely for his effort as he slid the trunk inside. Finn waited on the porch.

  “Are you ready to board, Finn?” Ms. Applegate asked once the trunk was loaded. A broad white grin parted her lips.

  “I think so,” he said.

  “You know what they say?”

  Finn shrugged.

  Her red lips smirked. “Where one journey ends, another begins.” She tipped her hat and raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m a phone call away, Finn,” his father said, pulling him into his arms. “Don’t worry about anything.”

&nbs
p; Ms. Applegate held up a gloved finger. “Unfortunately, contact with family is prohibited outside of sanctioned visits.”

  “What?” His father shook his head. “Surely, you allow phone calls… emails… something.”

  She shook her head. “I am sorry for any confusion. Mr. Ravenguard must have told you, the nature of what we do requires uninterrupted focus and concentration. If we are to promise you big results, we must demand the same level of commitment. Finn simply won’t have time for the distraction of home life.”

  Finn’s father frowned. He hugged Finn again and whispered into the ear farthest from Ms. Applegate. “Don’t worry. I left you something in the trunk.”

  Finn wasn’t shocked at this revelation. It was like his father to try to bend the rules in his favor. It was kind of his job. Defense attorneys were notorious for seeing morality as a scale of gray.

  “The others are waiting, Finn. Time to go.” Ms. Applegate swept one gloved hand toward the bus’s bifold door.

  He’d thought he was ready, but now an icy tourniquet of apprehension constricted his torso. Everything was happening so fast. He closed his eyes and swallowed. It’s only a semester. Then, as quickly as possible so as not to lose his nerve, he hugged his father and almost sprinted past Ms. Applegate in an effort to get on the bus before he started to cry. Luckily, he had a minute to wipe under his eyes in the sanctuary of the cab before he passed through a black curtain to the passenger area.

  “Finn!” Mike called when he entered the aisle. “Back here.”

  The bus did not have rows of seats like a normal bus but booths like a restaurant or, more accurately, the kind he’d seen in the dining compartment of a train once. He passed six empty booths before reaching the one with Mike and Jayden at the very back.

  “Are we the only ones?”

  “The only ones from this area,” Applegate said. Finn jumped. She’d crept up behind him without making a sound. “There are others,” she said. “We’ve accepted eight new students this semester.”

  Judging by Mike and Jayden’s expressions, her stealthy arrival had caught them off guard as well. They stared at her, slack-jawed and silent.