SHARD: Book One of The Shard Trilogy (A YA Sci-fi Teens with Powers Series)

by A. M. Pierre

  “All right. So what was it?”

  “It was that—” Kaia turned away as she realized she was about to blurt out the truth: I was mad at myself for checking you out. “Never mind, it’s not important.”

  Connor threw up his hands. “Fine, whatever. Like I said, I know you had your heart set on Mr. Puppy Eyes, and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me instead. Trust me, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about training someone who openly despises me, but we all do what we have to, right?”

  Kaia scowled at him. “Why do you have to say it like you’re trying to make me mad?”

  “To be honest, I had fully intended to make peace this morning, but since my efforts at ‘concerned interest’ only made things worse, I decided to try brutal honesty instead. How’s it going so far?” he said with a smirk.

  A smirk Kaia wanted to slap right off his cocky little face. “So far, you’ve got me thinking the only reason you’re here at Mark’s Place is that there’s nowhere else on the planet where anyone would ever want you.”

  The instant the words came out, Kaia wished she could suck them back in. They were the words she’d heard played in her own mind a thousand times, the words that haunted her dreams. Judging by the pain in Connor’s eyes, he’d heard them before, too. “No, I didn’t mean that,” she stammered, “I didn’t.” She reached out, desperately grabbing for his sleeve.

  He turned away, avoiding her touch, and stood there for a long moment, his arms crossed. He coughed lightly. “So, Kaia, are you ready to enter the amazing world of being a superhero for fun and not-a-lot-of-profit?”

  “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

  He turned back with a cheeky grin. “Don’t mention it.”

  Kaia studied his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  He gave a dismissive wave of a hand. “Why wouldn’t I be? So, are you ready to start or not?”

  “Sure, I guess. What am I supposed to do?”

  Connor strolled slowly through the room, his hands clasped behind his back like he was a professor lecturing a class. “We start with the basics. Before you can manipulate an element, you have to be able to find it in the first place. For most of us, this ‘elemental sense’ piggybacks onto one of our other senses. For example, Dice sees copper as glowing lights—the cool thing being it works through walls or even his own eyelids almost like X-ray vision. We had an operative once who tasted strawberries if her element was close by.”

  “What about you?”

  “For me, it’s touch. When I was a kid, I thought little bugs were crawling over my skin—and in my lungs. As you can imagine, it was all somewhat distracting until I learned to control it. Think back to when you put on Dice’s amplification helmet. Could you sense the bottles in the room without looking at them?”

  “Yeah . . . I could hear them.”

  Connor nodded. “What did they sound like?”

  Kaia grinned, then laughed in spite of herself. Connor arched one eyebrow, clearly missing the joke. “I’m sorry,” she managed in between giggles, “it seemed so absurd all of a sudden. A couple of days ago I’m eating cereal for dinner in front of the TV, and now I’m in some old house in France, telling the boy who kidnapped me I can hear glass bottles, and his only response is, ‘What did they sound like?’ Is it just me, or does that sound completely insane?”

  Connor smiled. “I wouldn’t say completely insane, but perhaps slightly psychotic?”

  “That sounds about right.” Kaia pursed her lips and blew out a big breath of air. “To answer your slightly psychotic question, they sounded like bells ringing. Not those annoying bells people clang if they want you to donate money or something, but the musical kind, like in a carillon. I saw one once, at Walt Disney World.” Her eyes lit up at the memory. “Ms. Andrews took me. It was huge, with dozens of bells of all sizes, all connected to the keyboard on one end. The carillonneur played songs from the radio, but the way he played them, with all those bells ringing—they were more beautiful than they’d ever been before. The sound echoed, but with force, you know, like the air was pulsing. And it felt like if I timed it right, if I really tried, I could jump up and ride those waves through the sky, going wherever I wanted, doing whatever I wanted—and no one could tell me any different.” She realized Connor was staring at her, and she immediately ducked her head down, her cheeks reddening. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble like that.”

  “Ramble? No, I didn’t think you were . . . you really like music, don’t you?”

  Kaia nodded.

  “Who’s Ms. Andrews? A teacher?”

  Kaia cleared her throat. “She was one of my foster parents. One of the nicer ones.”

  “Right. Okay. I mean, I didn’t know . . .” Connor let out a small sigh. “Will you look at me, please?”

  She couldn’t. The muscles simply wouldn’t work.

  Connor reached down under her chin and lifted her face up. “I’m sorry if I made you upset or uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to pry. Still, you don’t have to get so nervous all the time. Not five minutes ago you were saying whatever you wanted to me, and now you’re acting like I’m gonna bite your head off for telling a story—a very nice story at that.” He looked straight into her eyes, making her desperately want to look away. “Please, believe me, it’s okay.”

  She finally took a step back while playing with her necklace. “I don’t mean to do that,” she said quietly. “I get uncomfortable when . . . when people look at me.”

  “Good thing to know. I’ll spread the word: ‘Be advised—when speaking with Kaia Davis, only look at the ceiling so as to avoid any awkward situations.’”

  Kaia was ready to get annoyed again, but Connor’s eyes were teasing, not mocking. She smiled, just a little. “Sorry. I don’t . . . I’m not used to people listening to me, I guess.” She saw a quick look of sympathy on his face. She wasn’t used to people being sympathetic, either. Her turn to be flippant. “So, glass sounds like bells. How do I use that information?”

  Connor nodded slightly, as if he completely understood. “It gives us a good starting point, for one thing. Dice’s helmet doesn’t create anything that isn’t already there—it only amplifies it. If you can hear your element with the helmet on, you can hear it with the helmet off. It just takes time and practice.”

  She frowned a little. “How am I supposed to practice hearing?”

  “That’s the thing. You’re not actually hearing it.”

  “You just said I was.”

  Connor held up an index finger to object, then looked up. “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Okay, new explanation. Technically, new add-on to previous explanation, with a tweak.” He shook his head. “Never mind, doesn’t matter. Here’s the thing: do you remember how I said our ‘elemental sense’ piggybacks onto other senses? If you see a child riding piggyback on their dad, the child and the dad haven’t magically become the same person. The child is riding his dad to reach a common destination. Same difference here. You don’t have ‘super-hearing’ that can hear atoms. The extra sensory input is simply riding in on your hearing. When you used to have what Dice calls the ‘Heebie-Jeebies,’ I’m willing to bet you heard something but couldn’t make it out.” He grinned. “To put it in musical terms, your normal sense of hearing is a tuba drowning out the little elemental recorder playing next to it. They’re both there, but you can only hear the tuba. With time, you’ll be able to focus on the recorder whenever you want.”

  She understood what he was saying, but it still didn’t sound any easier. “Why can’t I just use the helmet? That was a piece of cake.”

  Connor tilted his head forward and looked at her from underneath his eyebrows. “Are you saying you’d rather wear that flashing, spinning crime against headgear instead of learning how to do it on your own?”

  “Well . . .”

  He held his hands up. “Regardless, it doe
sn’t matter. No one’s allowed to wear the helmet for more than five minutes at a time. Using our abilities puts a strain on our bodies, and artificially amping up the juice can be dangerous.”

  She didn’t want to ask, but the words came out anyway. “How do you know it’s only good for five minutes?”

  “. . . We just know.” He pulled back one of the long wide curtains on the wall. Behind it, no windows, but rows and rows of clear boxes, each about two-and-a-half inches square. Some of them had rocks of various colors in them, a couple were filled with liquid, and some looked completely empty. They were positioned in a large grid in a pattern that looked random and yet somehow familiar. It hit her, and she was annoyed she hadn’t realized it immediately. Her chemistry teacher would’ve been annoyed with her, too. It was the periodic table of elements.

  Connor picked up a wooden box sitting below the plastic grid. The simple container wasn’t much bigger than a shoebox but had to be fairly heavy given the strain in his arms’ muscles when he lifted it. Especially his biceps. She wasn’t quite sure what she thought of his personality, but she had to admit . . . That is so not what I need to be thinking about right now—whether or not someone who may or may not be a complete jerk has nice arms. Although he does. Stop it! Focus on the box. Very nice box.

  Connor set the very nice box on the floor in front of her with a thud. Next, he pulled out one of the small plastic boxes near the top of the periodic table. Kaia could make out a chunk of gray metallic rock inside, similar to silver but with a bluish tinge. Connor smiled like he was giving her an extra special present. “May I present to you your element, milady. Atomic number 14, chemical symbol Si. Silicon.”

  Kaia reached out to hold it, but Connor pulled it away. “Ah, sorry,” he said, “forgot to mention this—we’ve had some, well, explosive results from newbies handling pure versions of their elements. Since today is about learning to sense it, not making it go boom, I can’t let you play with it yet. In fact, we’re going to isolate it from you completely.” He placed it in the larger wooden box and closed the lid. “It’s lead-lined, that is. Can keep anyone with elemental powers from sensing whatever element is inside it. Unless their element is lead, of course.”

  “But if the point is to sense it,” Kaia asked, “what can I do if it’s inside there?”

  “I’m getting there, I promise. Using a pure version of your element makes it louder. However, we still need to eliminate all the auditory input we can before attempting to isolate it. In other words, we’re going to make the room very very quiet so you can hear it better.”

  “Connor, it’s already ‘very very quiet’ in here. The only noise is us talking and breathing.” We can shut up, but I’m pretty sure the breathing is a necessity.

  “True, but it can be quieter.” He took her hands in his.

  She flinched, but he held on tightly. “What are you—?”

  “You can feel my pulse this way. It helps our heartbeats synchronize. Next, I want you to focus on my chest rising and falling, and try to breathe at the same rate.”

  “But how does that help anything?”

  “You don’t normally notice the sound of your own breathing, do you? Or your own heartbeat? If we’re in sync, I can stay in the room without being too much of a distraction.”

  You want me to stare at your rather ripped chest so you won’t be too much of a distraction. Right. Makes perfect sense. Aloud, all Kaia said was, “Okay, I’ll try.”

  A minute or so passed. Nothing was happening, and then . . . silence. Sure, it had been quiet before, but it had suddenly got quieter somehow, like a fan switching off long after you’ve gotten used to its droning. She looked up into Connor’s eyes, gave him a small nod. He nodded back, then mouthed the words, Close your eyes.

  She did, and she felt his hands slowly pull away. Between the intense silence and the self-imposed darkness, she had a sudden sensation of being completely and utterly alone. Fighting the momentary sting of panic, she focused on her breathing, on maintaining the same steady rhythm.

  And then she heard it. A single, pure, beautiful note of music, far deeper and richer than the sounds of the glass bottles the day before. It sounded like a faraway orchestra holding a single tone, pulsing and vibrating with life and energy. She listened, concentrated, and it grew stronger. A handful of beats later, the symphony was all around her, filling her with a joy she hadn’t felt in ages.

  She opened her eyes, consciously letting the orchestra fade away, knowing somehow she could call it back whenever she wanted. Her face broke into an enormous smile. “I did it,” she said, “I actually did it.”

  Connor opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance. Before she even realized what she was doing, Kaia grabbed him in a tight hug and buried her face in his shirt. “Thank you,” she said, though the shirt muffled things a bit. “That was amazing.”

  His arms went around her, too, but he wasn’t really hugging her—more like lightly patting her on the back. “You’re very welcome. Glad I could be of assistance.” He cleared his throat. “Though I wouldn’t have pegged you as one for ‘PDA,’ as you Americans call it.”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she pulled away in an instant, but Connor didn’t look angry or even smug. He looked like he was . . . blushing. You’re kidding.

  A voice erupted from the wall behind her. “Very sweet, I’m sure,” Ms. Smith said over the loudspeaker, “but if you two are done with the lovey-dovey stuff, we’re all much more interested in the specifics of Kaia’s test results.”

  Kaia’s eyes opened as wide as saucers. “We?”

  Ah, crud. Connor held his hands up, though he wasn’t sure whether he was asking for a chance to explain or just plain defending himself. “Before you jump the gun, let me say that—”

  Her whisper came out as a hiss. “Are there or are there not cameras in here?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think you’d find out and—”

  “You didn’t think I’d . . . You knew. Everyone’s been watching us this whole time, and you knew.” She put the heels of her hands over her eyes. “Rambling about those stupid bells, doing that dumb synchronized breathing hand-touching thing—hugging you!—and you never said a word.” She dropped her hands, and her eyes flicked back and forth. It looked like she was replaying the events of the morning, looking for other reasons to be upset. Her eyes narrowed. Aaaaand she found one. “You lied to me. You said Ezio couldn’t be my instructor because of some meeting.”

  “He was in a—”

  “So he’s not watching right now?”

  Connor rubbed the back of his neck. “It was probably a very short meeting.” She was speechless. For the moment, at least. “Look, I’m sorry, but I thought it would make you more nervous if you knew, so—”

  “So instead of nervous, I’m completely humiliated? Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

  “Would you shut up and let me speak for a second? I guess I should’ve told you at some point, but I thought, for some reason, you might flip your lid. Your exceedingly calm reaction shows me that I was completely mistaken.”

  For a brief moment, Connor felt pleased he’d managed to get a word in edgeways. That self-satisfied feeling vanished when he saw tears running down Kaia’s cheeks. “Wait, Kaia, I didn’t mean—”

  “I was right about you before. You really are a complete jerk.” She turned and practically ran from the room.

  Well, that went well.

  Ms. Smith’s voice boomed out again. “Really, Mr. Rhys, you should be thanking me.”

  Connor managed to hold it together despite the anger coiling in his stomach. “And why, pray tell, is that?”

  “She’s probably going to end up on your team. I’d hate for you two to get together only to have to break up so quickly.”

  “It’s not like that.” Connor ground his teeth. “I was trying to be friendly.”

 
“Apparently.”

  “I said it’s not like that!”

  “Maybe you don’t think so,” Ms. Smith said, “but I can see things you can’t.”

  “Then you need to get your bloomin’ eyes examined.”

  Ms. Smith’s voice went from cavalier to ice cold in a flash. “It needed to be done. Deal with it.” She smiled, just barely. “I think it would be best for all concerned if you spent the afternoon in your quarters.”

  “You’re sending me to my room? What am I, twelve?”

  “Not biologically, perhaps.” She paused, and, when she spoke again, she sounded kinder, almost maternal. “We both know why you have such a problem with authority figures, Connor. The bottom line is, no matter what your parents did to you, it doesn’t matter in the here and now. Here you are under my authority, and now you will respect it or you will leave. Are we clear?”

  Connor muttered something under his breath.

  “Speak up, Mr. Rhys.”

  His eyes were defiant. “I said, ‘They weren’t my real parents.’”

  She sighed. “Go to your quarters, take a breather, get your head sorted. I’ll follow up with you later today.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Connor walked slowly from the room, the fight draining out of him. It didn’t matter what he did now. Kaia had started to give him a second chance, but that was over. At least he didn’t have to worry about her rejecting him in a week or a month. He had gotten it over with in just two days.

  Kaia passed him in the hallway as he headed towards his room. He caught her eyes and instantly regretted it, as the look she gave him could have melted steel. Connor shivered. He would’ve been stuck sitting next to her at lunch, too. Maybe getting temporarily grounded wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  It was several hours after lunch when Connor heard the knock on his door. He opened it a crack, and his best friend smiled at him through the gap. “How’s solitary going?” Dice asked.

  Connor flopped on his bed. “It’s absolutely brilliant. I’m so bored I’m actually looking forward to toilet-cleaning duty this evening.”