by Teri Terry
Shay grins. “Perhaps a less direct assault would be better.” She looks at me, considering. “It would be difficult. But I could try to remove the blocks in your mind, a little at a time, in unobvious ways so they don’t notice. And we could see what happens. But only if you want me to.”
There are shadowy places inside me, glimpses caught now and then when I’m half-asleep or thinking of something else—like the way you catch something out of the corner of your eye at night that you can’t see if you look at it straight on. I’m afraid of what hides in my edges. I shake my head.
“That’s okay,” she says. “Let me know if you change your mind.” There is disappointment in her voice, but she smiles. “Go on, read for a while if you want to; I’m sleepy.” She heads off to her room. She leaves the door part open, and the light goes off inside it a moment later.
I open my book, but at first I’m just looking at the page and not taking in the words I was so desperate for a moment ago.
Cepta does things to my thoughts. She makes me do things I don’t want to do; she makes me feel things too. I told Xander I felt like I was sleepwalking a lot of the time, and it’s true.
Maybe it’s time to wake up.
CHAPTER 14
SHAY
LARA COMES INTO MY ROOM early the next morning. My eyes are still shut, but I’m half-awake and can feel her presence. I stretch and yawn, then sit up.
“I changed my mind,” Lara says.
“What about?” I say, but I think I know. I have to stop myself from reacting too much: it’ll only scare her.
“Can you get Cepta out of my head? She’s there now.” There is a mixture of fury and fear in her aura.
“I’ll have to go into your mind. Is that okay?”
She nods, but it’s jerky, like she’s struggling to make that simple movement when someone is trying to take her control away.
I reach out to her lightly, to Lara—inside. And there she is: Cepta is coiled around her thoughts and feelings like a hidden serpent.
Cepta, what do you think you are doing?
She’s startled that I see her there, then annoyed. But there is more; something is wrong, very wrong, in Cepta’s world. What is it?
I’m checking up on my patient, is all she says.
She’s fine, or she was before you started poking around, and now she’s frightened. Stop it.
I give her a mental push, and just like that, Cepta is gone from Lara’s mind. That was easy: too easy? Could it be because I’m next to Lara in the same room, and Cepta is farther away, wherever she is? Or maybe she didn’t bother to try. Which doesn’t seem like her.
Cepta? Are you all right?
Leave me alone. And then she’s left mine as well.
Lara gasps. “She’s gone.”
“Can I check some more? Make sure she’s not just hiding?”
“Yes.”
I deepen my touch on Lara’s mind, but find no trace of Cepta’s presence. She really is gone. There are blocks in place still, though. I’m about to ask Lara if she wants me to try to remove them as well, but I’m interrupted by a mental call.
It’s Xander. Shay? What have you been up to? His tone is irritated, but with who, I can’t tell.
Taking care of my sister, I say. There is a pause.
We need to talk, he says.
We’re talking.
Come to the research center.
I don’t want to leave Lara alone. Can she come?
It’s against the rules.
Whose rules? Who makes them? I’m pushing him and can’t stop myself even though I’m not sure if I should be doing this.
Bring her.
I open my eyes. Lara is looking at me still with that intent way she has. “Is Cepta really gone?”
“I think so.”
“Thank you.”
“Xander wants to talk to me, at the research center.”
“Don’t leave me alone; she’ll come back!”
“No, she won’t; I’ll watch for her. I promise. But I’m not leaving you here; you’re coming with me.”
* * *
We walk across Community soon after. Lara doesn’t believe Cepta will stay out; she might have a point. She’s scared of her, of having anyone in her mind; she didn’t like agreeing to let me in and only did so that I could deal with Cepta.
But her hesitation stems from more than just that. It’s almost like she’s scared to think for herself too—probably because she hasn’t been allowed to for a long time, and that makes me angry again.
Maybe there is a way to make her feel freer.
When we reach the research center, Lara stops at the door. I hold it open.
“It’s okay, I promise.”
She hesitates, and I give her a small nudge with my mind. She steps through the door.
“Lara, do you know what a quiet room is?”
She shakes her head.
“It’s a room where no one can reach your mind.”
Her eyes widen. “Not even Xander or Cepta?” Or you, she’s thinking, but she doesn’t say it out loud.
“Not us, not anybody. And there is one here. How about you wait in the quiet room while Xander and I are talking? You’ll be completely safe there, I promise. You can sit and read the book you brought, or just think.”
She nods, and I hail Xander, tell him I’m taking Lara there.
But when she sees it, that it is a small room that locks from the outside, she shakes her head, backs away. Cepta said she’s afraid of small places, didn’t she?
There’s a whisper of a memory inside, of another girl who was afraid of small, confined places: Jenna. There are so many similarities between these two girls. Surely they can’t all be coincidences?
“How about we stay right here to talk? And you can see us through the window in the door. Would that be all right?”
She hesitates. “Okay. But will you let me out if I knock?”
“Instantly. I promise.”
She goes in, checks the room from corner to corner, then finally sits in the chair and opens her book.
“It’s okay,” she says. “You can shut the door now.”
I shut it, watching her through the window. She looks nervous—not that I can see her aura anymore in the quiet room—but she gives me a thumbs-up just as Xander’s footsteps approach.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Is it?” Annoyed is right. His aura almost bristles with it.
“Can we talk here? I told Lara I’d stay in sight in case she wants to get out.”
“Sure. Fine.” He defocuses; I sense him telling others to stay away. His eyes turn back to me. “Cepta’s furious with you.”
“Oh?”
“You took Lara to the library last night.”
“She was starved for something to read.”
“I tried bringing her books before; she had no interest.”
I shake my head. “The wrong sort of books. She wanted stories—you know, novels.”
“Cepta thinks reading fiction would be bad for her, that she’ll take on personas from stories and that that could worsen her identity confusion.”
“Look at her, Xander. She’s in there now, reading and perfectly happy—especially because she’s in a quiet room, where no one can get at her mind. Cepta has been far too controlling of her thoughts and feelings.”
He sighs, and I can see the indecision on his face. He’s being told one thing by this woman he believes is an expert, a psychologist, and completely different things by me.
Then he glances again through the window in the door, at Lara reading her book—she doesn’t seem worried about being in a small room at all.
“I’m inclined to give you some latitude in this regard. She’s happier with you than she has been here before.”
“What about Cepta?”
He shrugs dismissively, and there is a part of me—a very small part, it is true—that feels sorry for her.
“Can Lara come to dinner tonight too?” One last rule to break.
“Cepta thought the number of people would be too much for her. It’s why she’s been kept separate from Community.”
“It’s made her feel alone and isolated.”
“Fine. Try bringing her tonight. But she can’t try to join with everyone; I agree with Cepta there. It’d be overwhelming, connecting with so many different people. She can’t do that without holding on to a strong sense of who she is, or she could get lost. I’ve seen this happen before. It’s far too dangerous.”
CHAPTER 15
LARA
WHEN THE DOOR TO THE QUIET ROOM CLOSED, my heart rate increased and I was sweating. But I made myself breathe in, out, in, out; focus on the chair, the air in my lungs; and gradually I calmed down. And I did it by myself; I didn’t need Cepta doing it for me.
When I glance up, I can see Shay through the door. Xander is there now; they’re talking. Whatever it is about looks serious. He turns his head toward me, and I look down, pretend to focus on the book in my hands.
Cepta’s not here. No one can hear my thoughts?
I can think anything, and nobody would know. But I’m so used to not doing that—to hiding what I think and feel, even from myself, that I don’t know where to begin.
And despite how I managed to calm myself this time, I still know.
There is danger, something that lies hidden at the edges of every room I go in, large or small. I know it is there in the shadows.
It will come for me when it wants to, and there is nothing I can do.
CHAPTER 16
SHAY
AT DINNER IT’S OBVIOUS from Cepta’s aura that she wasn’t with Xander last night. Her plans must have fallen through, and that’s why she’s been in such a state. I know what I saw so can only assume he rejected her.
Cepta is angry—frightened too—but keeping such a tight grip on it that to anyone but a survivor, it wouldn’t be apparent. Externally she’s as always. Contained. Calm. Maybe there are a few spots of high color in her cheeks not usually there, ones she hasn’t noticed or she would have taken them away.
But Persey doesn’t have the ability to control how she feels like Cepta does. She’s lit up from inside—smiling at Xander in absolute adoration, in a way that must be obvious to everyone. ICK. He touches her hand when she sits down, and she literally almost swoons. Until now, that was something I thought was made up in romance novels.
Do the others notice Cepta’s demotion?
They must. He’s changed where everyone is sitting. Now Xander is flanked on one side by me, then Lara, and on the other side by Persey, then Cepta. And he leans toward Persey in a way he didn’t with Cepta. His chair is closer to hers too.
What is she: maybe twenty? She’s not that much older than me. This is just so totally disgusting.
Anna is one of the servers, and when she sees Lara at the head table with me, her eyes widen slightly. I smile when I see that she gives Lara an extra-large portion of everything.
When dinner is finished and the tables cleared away, it is time for the main event of the evening: joining. Should I go back to the house with Lara and join from there? I ask Xander, but before he can answer, Lara shakes her head.
“I know the way,” she says. “I’ll walk back on my own.”
“Are you sure?”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re there or not when your mind is off away; you’re just a solid lump when you’re like that. I think the house could fall on your head and you wouldn’t notice.”
“Sorry,” I say. “But I’ll take you back.”
“No, you won’t.” She heads for the door, and people part slightly, leaving a space around her.
“She seems to be recovering her teenage attitude,” Xander says.
“A good thing, don’t you think?”
“Just not too much.”
“I thought you’d be used to being around teenagers by now.” I glance at Persey.
He raises an eyebrow; his face goes cold. “That is not your concern.” And I shiver under his rebuke, a reaction that feels like a physical hurt.
Be careful, Shay, Cepta whispers in my mind. Don’t think being his daughter changes this truth: you can be out of favor as easily as in it.
I ignore her, even though I’m uneasy—but not in the way she might think. Why did I react like that? Why did it matter so much when he was displeased with me, even though what I said—well, he totally deserved it.
There is something about him that makes you want him to smile at you. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve begun to like being one he favors, one he listens to.
I feel eyes on me and glance up. Cepta has a knowing look, as if she could see exactly what was in my mind.
The survivors—me, Xander, and Cepta—must begin the joining process together, and I wonder how it’ll be, with what seems wrong between the two of them. But when we begin, it is much as always. Though maybe Cepta is shielding more than she usually does?
Then she flinches, and she is more open—as if she’d been pried like an oyster shell. And she is hurting, but Xander is disdainful.
What you are—where you are—is only because of me, he says to her. Remember that.
Yes, Xander, she whispers.
And I’m shocked—both at this exchange and that he let me see it. Then I’m remembering what Cepta said before. Did he do that deliberately, to give me the same lesson?
And then these uneasy feelings between us are gone as if they never existed. Cepta is as strong and clear as always; she and I are equal with Xander as we reach out to Beatriz, Elena, Patrick, all the other survivors. I see now that they’ve spread out to different places, so we are covering even more of Scotland in our joining tonight. It wouldn’t take that many more of us to bring the entire country along.
And it is so beautiful, peaceful and vibrant with life at the same time: I belong to Scotland and Scotland belongs to me, both at once.
I’d give anything to feel this again.
Everything.
CHAPTER 17
LARA
“HI,” SHAY SAYS.
I look up over my book. “Hi. How was it?”
“Joining? It was…well. Pretty awesome.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Sorry. Is that like being told the best chocolate in the world is on the shelf but you can’t have any?”
“In a way. But maybe…” I pause, thinking. “Maybe it’s like it’s the best chocolate in the world, and I’d love to eat it, but I know I’m allergic. I want it and don’t want it, at the same time.” Somehow I know: it’d be a step I couldn’t back away from.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Shay is uneasy, and I’m alarmed. “I kind of have a confession to make,” she says.
“What is it?”
“You know how I asked you about taking blocks out of your mind. Well…” She’s squirming a little, like she’s uncomfortable with me looking at her. “I kind of had done some of it already, before I asked you. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to make yourself step into the library or the research center: they were blocked. Also, if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to ask me for help, like you did the morning after the library. You weren’t able to use your own will enough to do so.”
“So you fiddled around in my brain and didn’t ask first. Just like everybody else always does.”
“Yes. But only so you could make choices yourself.”
I’m upset; I can feel it welling up inside me. “I thought you were different.”
“I am! And I won’t do it again unless you ask me to, I promise. Do you understand what I said—why I had to do
it?” Shay looks distressed, and I think that I do understand, that I will forgive her.
But this is an important point I want to make.
So not just yet.
That night I can’t sleep. I’m uneasy. Things are changing; I can feel something coming as if I’m vibrating with a storm that will be here soon. I wander through the house barefoot and trip on the edge of a chair. It goes over with a crash, and there are tears in my eyes from stubbing my toe.
I hear Shay get up in her room.
“Are you all right?” she starts to say, but then stops. There is a sound outside in the night.
“Who is it?” I ask her, knowing she has ways of working out who people are even when she can’t see them, like Cepta can.
Before she can answer, someone knocks quickly, then opens the door—it’s Anna. She’s holding a candle in her hand. Her face is frightened in the flickering light.
“What’s wrong?” I say.
She looks at Shay but then just blurts it out, loud enough that Shay can hear her too. “The new people that arrived yesterday; they’re staying below our camp. They’re sick. Some have died.”
“Sick?” Shay says. “Do you mean…?”
“They’ve brought the epidemic.” She looks at me. “I wanted to warn you, Lara—to run. Hide. Save yourself.”
I hear her words, but they are distant, fading, and my eyes are only focused on the flame dancing in her hand.
Shay is saying something.
Anna leaves; she must take her candle with her.
But it is still here, growing and twisting and hot—
held in my eyes—
and I try to see the world as it really is, not this nightmare—
but I can’t stop it—
I can’t—
it’s here—
the edges—
the shadows—
they’re growing—
the fire—
it’s here.