by C J Benjamin
“Yes, but...” He paused. “She’s peculiar. Not what I was expecting. I was prepared for her arrogance, but she’s so small and powerless. I expected…more.”
“We mustn’t be fooled by her size like Greeley was,” Kobel said cautiously. “I wish you would have let me come with you. I’ve seen her in my visions. I could have helped you.”
“You’ve shared your visions with me. I recognized her plain enough. And she bares the mark on her scalp, as the book predicted.”
“The emblem appeared?” Kobel asked in astonishment.
“Yes, exactly as you said it would when I pressed my blade to her scalp.” Malakai paused. “There’s just something off, missing.”
“What is it?” Kobel asked trying to calm his frustration.
“I can’t be sure just yet,” he said after a moment. “Call a meeting. It’s time to start our preparations.”
4
Remi sat in the waiting room with his elbows resting on his knees and his partially shaved head cradled in his hands. Nova paced a trail in front of him, while Journey leaned against the wall absently rubbing his bruised neck, gazing at nothing.
Remi watched as Nova dripped a trail of blood from a gash that ran through his right eyebrow, and then turned to walk through it. Each time he did so, he left a smear of bloody footprints. For some reason this, paired with the flickering of the bright overhead lights, was agitating Remi to no end. Finally he snapped.
“You’re bleeding all over the floor,” he yelled, stopping Nova in his tracks.
Nova looked at the floor and then touched his face, as if he hadn’t noticed that he was bleeding at all. Then he turned his gaze to Remi. His eyes narrowed with such intense anger that Remi got to his feet just as Nova lunged at him.
Nova wound his fists into what was left of Remi’s soiled shirt. “This is your fault! You had one job! Keep us invisible. How in the gods name did they know where we were?”
“Get off me!” Remi said shoving at Nova to no avail. “I didn’t see you lifting a finger to save us with your awesome fire powers either.”
“Do you really think I didn’t try?” Nova growled.
“Do you think I didn’t? I screwed up, okay? I don’t know what happened, but trust me, I’m tearing myself up enough about it already without you laying into me. I know I’m a complete failure and I’m not worthy of her. Is that what you want me to say?
Nova glared at Remi, but backed off. “If I had my powers you wouldn’t still be standing here!”
Journey took the opportunity to get between his brawling friends. “Listen to yourselves. None of us can use our powers. Obviously something strange is going on here.”
“Exactly!” Remi spat, anger still pulsing through him.
Nova lunged for him again but Journey held him back.
“It’s not his fault, mate,” Journey said softly.
Nova’s fury crumbled and he put his hands through what was left of his hair in frustration.
“The girls,” he breathed in agony. “We couldn’t protect them. I’ll never forgive myself if – ”
But Nova couldn’t even finish his sentence. Journey pulled him into a fierce hold and just nodded, mirroring his friend’s pain.
Nova squeezed his eyes shut trying to control his emotions. He couldn’t let himself breakdown in front of the guys. Instead he pushed Journey away and punched a wall right as the door to their room opened. The startled man, dressed in a crisp white coat, looked at the ragged group of teenage boys and then nervously back at his clipboard. He cleared his throat and called out a name.
“Asher, please follow me.”
The boys all stared at the man, but didn’t move. The man sighed in obvious frustration.
“Which-one-of-you-is-named-Asher?” he asked slowly as if he thought they were hard of hearing.
The boys now looked at each other, but still didn’t speak or move. The man looked at the clipboard again and glanced back up with a bit of a grin.
“Nova Asher?” he asked looking directly at Nova.
A shockwave of surprise lit up Nova’s features and it was clear that this was the first time he was hearing confirmation of his last name. Finally he nodded.
“Come with me, please,” the man in the white coat instructed, shaking his head in disbelief as he led Nova from the room.
“Ouch!”
I could hear Jemma protesting from the other room. Her shrill cries echoed from behind the door and were making me nervous. Sparrow squirmed closer.
“We’ll be okay,” I whispered to her, praying my words were true.
Sparrow and I silently waited for our turn with the medics in the newly renovated infirmary. It seemed like Jemma had been gone forever. Time dragged on as we listened to her whimpering. When we couldn’t hear her, we heard the shouts and protests of the boys. They sounded muffled and far away, but there was no misinterpreting that they sounded unhappy. I heard Nova’s familiar voice and my heart crumbled, but I stayed strong for Sparrow, who was falling to pieces in my arms. Finally, everything grew silent and the white coat woman returned to our room. This time she was here for me.
“Sommers, Geneva?”
“Here,” I said stepping forward.
“Follow me,” she said.
Sparrow made a whimpering sound and grabbed my hand.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to her again. “Where’s my sister?” I asked still standing my ground and holding Sparrow’s trembling hand.
The cold woman raised an eyebrow at me. “Who?”
“My sister, Jemma.”
She continued to stare at me blankly.
“The girl you just took back with you. Where is she?”
“Follow me,” was all she said.
I could tell I wasn’t going to get anything from this woman, so I turned to Sparrow and gave her my best reassuring smile.
“Please, don’t leave me,” she whispered through her sobs.
“It’s okay. I’ll come find you,” I whispered as I pulled my hand from hers, begging myself to believe my own words.
Once on the other side, I followed the woman down a narrow white hall and through another closed white door into an even smaller white room. There was a cold looking silver table and a wall lined with all kinds of strange looking tools inside the room. I had a feeling the team of eager white coats staring at me were planning to use them on me and I shuddered.
Now I saw why Jemma had been howling. I tried to keep my protests to a minimum for Sparrow’s sake, knowing she could hear me.
The team of white coats stripped off my ragged clothing and bathed me, ignoring my struggles for modesty. Afterward, they put me on the hard metal table to examine me, peering into my eyes, checking my reflexes and trying to look into my mouth. Although they refused to answer any of my questions, they were much gentler than the Luxors had been, so I decided to conserve my energy and stop fighting them.
Somehow I survived all the poking and prodding. When the team of medics backed away from me I felt raw, but better somehow. They had bathed me and scrubbed my skin pink. Despite my feelings of humiliation at being bathed by strangers, it actually felt good to be clean for a change. The white coats had treated all my scrapes and wounds with some sort of salve that was soothing and smelled pretty, like mint and flowers. It reminded me of the sweet fragrance from the red flower Jovi had put in my hair while we were in the forest. My heart panged when I thought of her, but it also steeled my reasons for being here.
When the white coats finally left me alone, I sat up on the table, letting my legs swing under me. I examined my trimmed nails and the foreign paint that covered them. I looked down at my wiggling toes, watching the light shimmer over the fresh coat of matching onyx polish that coated them. But another shimmer suddenly caught my eye.
There was a mirror on the nearby wall. I hopped off the table and padded barefoot to it and let out a tiny gasp! My hair was cut short; blonde waves rioting every which way. But the most shocking discovery w
as the large bald patch on the left side of my head, just above my ear. The white coats had spent a lot of time trying to repair the hack job the Luxors had welcomed me with and now I was left with a shiny bald spot that ran from my left temple to the nape of my neck! I ran my hands across the smooth skin. It was a bizarre feeling. I surveyed my new look. I couldn’t believe that my mop of blonde curls was gone! I’d spent so much time despising my quirky locks and now that they were gone, I felt naked. It was like they had taken some of my identity with them. I saw a strange dark mark above my left ear and leaned in closer to the mirror to examine it.
It was another tattoo, the same LVX I had on my shoulder, but much smaller. Had it been there all my life? I was engrossed in examining this new tiny tattoo in the mirror. It seemed like there was a red mark just behind my tattoo. Was it another scrape from the Luxors who’d savagely hacked off my hair? I twisted and turned but I couldn’t get the exact angle to see it clearly. I was so close that I rested my hands against the cool glass. The brightness of my eyes caught my attention. They’d never looked so blue. As I was gazing at the way my eyelids glittered I thought I noticed a familiar celestial shimmer in the upper corner of the mirror. “No mom, not here,” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes tightly.
“What do you think?” asked a cheerful voice.
My eyes flew open and I jumped back when I saw a new form reflected in the mirror. My heart pounded as I spun around to face the person standing in my room. She must have entered when I had my eyes closed.
I let out a sigh of relief. For a moment I had feared, yet half-hoped, that it was my mother’s voice I had heard. I collected myself and answered.
“Um, I don’t know,” I replied honestly to the young woman. “I feel naked,” I said rubbing my arms with a shiver. The light smock that tied in the back did nothing to insulate me against the chill of the stark medical room.
“I brought something to help with that,” she said walking toward me with an armful of white material. “But what about the rest of you?”
I turned back to the mirror warily to examine my reflection. No sign of my mother.
Of course not, Geneva. Jemma veiled your powers. Stop letting your imagination run away with you, I mentally scolded myself.
I refocused on my reflection and if I was looking past the shock of my new hairstyle; I guess I could say I’d never looked better. My skin glowed and my eyes seemed bluer and more sparkly than usual. My normally plain features looked like the painted perfection I’d seen on the students’ faces when we’d arrived.
“What’s on my face?” I asked, gently rubbing my fingers over my rosy cheeks.
“That’s called rouge. Isn’t it fun?” she said sounding delighted as she walked up behind me. “They’re cosmetics. Here, you have your own set.”
She handed me a tiny white bag. It was soft with braided grey cording to tie it closed. I stared at it in my hands, not sure what to do.
“It’s a lot to get used to, I know, but it’s all for the best, you’ll see,” the girl reassured me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked turning my attention to look at the girl face to face.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you need it or anything,” she added apologetically, scrunching her up-turned nose in embarrassment. “It’s just another luxury Headmaster has brought from Lux for us to enjoy.”
“And what about this?” I pointed to the tattoo on my scalp.
“Oh, that. You’ve had that all your life, or at least all your life that you’ve spent as an orphan. The Troian Academy gave it to you when you got the one on your shoulder. I guess it was a precaution so that no one would think of getting clever and trying to change their identities.”
“Don’t you mean the Troian Center?”
“No, it’s called the Troian Academy now. You’ll learn all about it during orientation.”
I looked at her skeptically, but she only smiled.
“Anyway, I imagine Headmaster shaved your head to verify you are who you say you are.”
“Seems a bit harsh,” I said bitterly.
“Don’t worry. He didn’t single you out. He did it to all the orphans when he took over.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “He does seem a little paranoid if you ask me.”
“So you’re not an orphan?” I asked noticing that she didn’t have a tattoo on her arm.
“It’s complicated,” she said handing me the stack of clothes. “Here, try these on.”
I’d never worn a garment that fit me so well. I examined the new Troian Academy uniform I was wearing, how the white tunic flowed effortlessly over my body, fluttering with a light movement when I swayed from side to side, falling right above my knee. It was sleeveless, with a high cut angle that started at my left shoulder and ran down to the right, creating a sharp geometric neckline.
“Perfect fit!” the girl exclaimed when I emerged from behind the dressing curtain.
I stared intently at her. At second glance I noticed she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I had initially thought she was much older than me, but now up close I realized we were nearer in age than I’d first thought. She might still have been older, but not by much. It was hard to tell because she was tall and lean and moved with such graceful poise. Her auburn hair was cut short, adding angles to her cherub-like features. I admired the way her unruly hair tussled, giving her a pixie-ish look. She smiled at me warmly and the feeling of familiarity grew even more. Suddenly the image of riding horses popped into my head.
“Mala?” I whispered.
The smile disappeared from the girl’s face instantly and she suddenly looked younger, scared even. She rushed in close to me.
“You knew my sister?” she whispered desperately.
My hopes that I’d finally crossed paths with my favorite Grift evaporated.
“Mala is your sister?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I remember her from when she was a Grift here. She was always nice to me.”
Tears welled in the girl’s haunted blue eyes.
“You said knew?” I asked apprehensively, afraid of what the answer would be.
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, my sister was arrested by the Luxors. She was caught stealing food for us and they threw her in prison. It was only because she couldn’t find work after she was fired from the Troian Center and we were going hungry. My father was too sick to work. He’d been crippled during the Flood. Mala was only looking out for us,” she added as she ruefully shook her head.
I sighed a breath of relief. Prison was better than death. But then again, some might argue that death was actually better than the Luxor prison. I’d heard horror stories about that place. But still, there was no coming back from death.
Unless you’re the Ponte deorum, my subconscious reminded me. I shrugged that thought away and asked, “How did you end up here?”
“My father passed away last month and with Mala in prison, the law states I have to come here until I turn seventeen and I’m of age,” she said bitterly.
“I’m sorry about your father,” I said. “And I’m sorry you ended up here. Mala was my friend, so I’m pleased to meet her sister.”
“I’m Sadira, but everyone calls me Sadie.”
“Geneva.” I extended my hand.
When our hands connected I felt a cold wave wash over me. It was like her touch sent a surge of icy water through my veins! Gooseflesh rushed up my arm like a current of electricity. Even without my powers, I knew she was one of us. And this connection sparked a hopeful thought: Sadie might be one of the Pillars!
The more I thought about it, the more I believed she had to be. This feeling... it was different, yet the same, as when I touched Nova. It was a deep-rooted connection, something that was predestined and unexplainable, but it was there nonetheless. With Nova, I had thought it was because I was hopelessly in love with him, but then I realized I had a similar feeling when I was around Jovi too. Now that I had another experience to
go off of, I was sure I was right.
I hadn’t ever wondered why I felt such a kinship with Jovi. I had attributed it to her magnetic personality, but in this moment I knew it was more than that. It was because she was a Pillar. I hadn’t even known about the Pillars when I met Jovi, or Nova, but now that I was feeling this same connection to Sadie it clicked. It all made sense and I grinned with relief, finally feeling confident that we could complete our mission to find the Pillars, when minutes ago it had felt like a lost cause.
Just as I was wondering if she could feel it too, her liquid blue eyes swelled with fear. I pulled my hand away quickly, not wanting to alert suspicion. I didn’t know who could be watching us in here. This new Troian Academy had me on edge."
“Sorry,” I said. “My hands are always cold.” I rubbed them together rapidly trying to think of a way to change the subject when I noticed the startled look on Sadie’s face wasn’t fading. “That’s a cool bracelet,” I said looking at her black shimmering cuff.
“Oh!” she said shaking herself back to reality and bursting into action again. “I almost forgot. You need your bracelet.”
Sadie scurried to the table I had been lying on and pulled a small wooden box out from under it. She brought it to me and timidly nodded for me to open it.
I hesitantly obliged, pulled the thin gold latch up and opened the box. Inside was the same black metal cuff that Sadie wore.
“Put it on,” she said.
“It’s for me?”
“Yes. We all get one. It’s Headmaster’s gift to us. It’s how much he believes in our promising future.”
I was about to slide it onto my wrist when I heard her say Malakai’s name.
“Why would he give us a gift? It seems kind of suspicious to me,” I said hesitating.
“What’s taking so long?” called a shrill voice.
We both turned to see a tiny woman in a white coat in the doorway.
“Sorry, ma’am. I was just securing Geneva’s bracelet.”