by Lisa Amowitz
We started off a little shaky. But Andre and I were a finely tuned machine, intuitively used to playing together. Vincent, with his supple bowing, was nimbly able to follow our lead. The bass player jumped right in. We launched into a few classics from Blast Mahoney, eventually meandering into some crazy improvisation.
Any worries I’d had about Vincent’s well-being were obliterated by his virtuoso violin chops. Perspiration flew from him as he slashed maniacally away at the strings. His bow unleashed a torrent of furious notes that danced and leapt around the scream of my electric guitar. Andre’s drumming boomed like rolling thunder, while the new player’s bass line anchored us with its deep thrumming undercurrent.
Our impromptu band didn’t have a name, but we were epic.
Wild energy sizzled between Vincent and me as we played. At times when he seemed to be fading, he rebounded, drawing strength from the music and the heat of the frenzied crowd.
We played for forty-five minutes straight, with the audience jumping and yelling the entire time. It was wilder than the wildest band slam I’d ever been at. Drunk on the excitement, I might have played all night had Monica not shut us down.
She strolled casually onto the stage and simply cut our amps. The crowd booed, but when she announced that it was time for my Reveal, they applauded and stomped the floor so hard the stage shook.
The lights dimmed. A single white spotlight trailed Monica as she exited the stage and cut through the crowd, which parted to let her pass. A circle opened for her in the center of the floor. Zombie waiters emerged from the perimeters to flank her in a protective ring. I tensed. If she’d gone to the trouble to costume her goons, Monica must have been expecting trouble.
Another spotlight swept down from the ceiling and caught me in its glare. Monica’s voice drawled in my ears, weirdly projected as if she stood right beside me.
“Won’t you come down and join me in the circle, Beth?”
I glanced at Vincent. He nodded and smiled, but something bittersweet in his expression made my breath catch. He didn’t even reach out to touch me.
I stood as tall as I could manage and made my way off the stage. The crowd gave way for me. When I reached Monica, it was hard to see beyond the brilliant light that enclosed us. All I could see in the spotlight’s glare was Monica, smiling back at me, cold and beautiful as a marble statue.
“I bring to you,” she called out in her announcement voice, “Bethany and the Talent of…” Monica paused for effect, letting the rapt audience hang on her words. I marveled at what a natural showman she was. “Chameleon!”
The audience erupted in raucous applause, hoots, hollers, and whistles. I looked down at my hands, which now reflected my surroundings as if my skin was covered in tiny, mirrored scales. I’d gone invisible.
When the applause finally died down, the sound of one person clapping slowly lingered on. A man in white robes, his shaven head gleaming like polished stone, stood on the stage, bathed in white light.
“Bravo, Monica.” The robed man stepped to the edge of the stage and spoke in a low voice. The sound carried across the hushed hall, every syllable clear and sharp. “You’ve done an admirable job of executing this spectacular fraud.”
The zombie waiters tensed and edged closer. Monica replied in her steady alto. “How nice to see you, Inquisitor Ward. What brings you to our tiny compound in the hinterlands?”
“Allegations,” the man said, leaping down from the stage. The crowd made way for the Inquisitor, who strode imperiously toward Monica. “Allegations that you have been dabbling in dark experiments and Volatile Talents. I came to see for myself. Do you deny it?”
“That’s utter nonsense, Inquisitor,” Monica said, raising her chin. “Surely you aren’t falling for the gossip and hearsay that abound in our world. Rival compounds have always tried to make us look bad.”
The man stopped a few yards from Monica, hands on hips. Monica’s goons leaned in closer. Tension crackled through the hall as the crowd backed up, creating more space around us. “If you believe that the Guild operates on mere gossip and hearsay, you have seriously underestimated us. We have been conducting an investigation for quite some time. The evidence is rather damning.”
“You’re making a serious mistake, Inquisitor,” Monica said calmly.
“Where is Xavier Smith?”
Smith? I hadn’t recalled ever hearing Xavier’s last name. I trembled in the fraught silence of the hall.
“I have no idea, Inquisitor. I thought perhaps he had finally got his due.”
“Perhaps you tell the truth,” said the Inquisitor. “But this is no Chameleon, Miss DeWitt, and the Guild knows it. You are under arrest, and this Volatile is coming with us.”
In a blur of motion someone grabbed me from behind and forced me into a chokehold. Stars danced in front of my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. Unholy rage, fueled by hissing fear, bubbled inside of me with no place to go.
I writhed wildly to get free from my captor. People were on the move, stampeding for the exits. But I was stuck.
Black-garbed assassins dropped from the ceiling on ropes. The mirror scales vanished, leaving me visible and exposed.
“Get her!” the bald man cried, pointing at Monica, who was furiously pushing her way through the crowd. Then, on cue, every person in the dining hall became a perfect replica of Monica.
Monica look-alikes shouted and shoved in a desperate panic to flee the hall. In the chaos, there was no way to know which Monica was the right one. I wasn’t even sure if I looked like her or myself.
A billowing mass of black smoke cloaked the ceiling. If I didn’t gain control, everyone in the room would die.
I struggled uselessly, still locked in the chokehold. An assassin dropped to the floor in front of me. He pointed a strange weapon at me, a short glass rod that glowed with crackling forks of blue-white light. Deep within the shadows of his hood, I could see him sneer. He extended the weapon and a jet of white-hot electricity shot out at me.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the blow.
It never came. Something barreled into me, knocking me to the floor. Above my head the streak of electricity jetted past and blasted into the assassin who had had me pinned. People behind him screamed and dove to the ground. The assassin crumpled to the floor, an empty heap of charred and smoking clothes.
“Let’s get out of here.” The Monica look-alike who’d tackled me helped me to my feet. The voice was unmistakable. Zuber.
The crowd of panicked Monicas pushed and jostled like spooked cattle, trampling anyone who’d fallen underfoot. I craned my neck for a glimpse of where I’d last seen Vincent, just as one of the Guild assassins swung onto the stage. He kicked at a body that was sprawled there. Though the body looked like Monica as well, I screamed. I began to push toward the stage, bitter rage howling inside me.
Zuber tugged me in the opposite direction, dragging my feet along the floor. We passed through the crush of bodies as if they had no more substance than mist. My surroundings had become a blur, the screams lowered to a muted warble.
“Vincent!” I continued to yell and fight until finally Zuber threw me over his shoulder.
I couldn’t contain it any longer. The grief, fear, and outrage exploded from me in a concussive blast, blotting out all remaining sound and vision.
28
I CAME TO MY SENSES, SHIVERING WILDLY. I LAY ON A bone-chilling surface in my torn costume. It was pitch-dark, and I was so numb with cold that I couldn’t feel my fingers or feet. Someone had thrown a down coat over me, but it did little to keep out the frigid air. My head throbbed when I tried to sit. When my eyes adjusted, they were drawn to a dim sliver of light rippling on black water.
“Zuber? You there?” I called weakly.
Footsteps echoed in the dark space and grew closer. “Good morning.”
“It’s morning? Where the hell are we?”
“This is an underground cavern that I stumbled upon once, totally by accident. I know it’s uncom
fortable, but I had no choice.”
When I tried to sit up, my head clanged with pain. “What about Vincent? I need to get back and make sure he’s all right.”
Zuber crouched beside me. A match flared, illuminating his face. Gray zombie makeup still clung to his dark skin, mingling with what looked to be actual blood. “You can’t go back to the compound, Beth. Not ever. It was hard enough to
get
you
out. I brought you here to contain your—um—outburst.”
I groaned and rolled over onto my side, facing away from him, the breath huffing out of me in clouds of mist. The frigid cold bit down to my bones. “Please tell me I didn’t kill anyone.”
Zuber lit another match, the brief glare illuminating the low-hanging ceiling of the small cavern. It would make a great tomb, I thought.
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Zuber asked, exasperation creeping into his voice. “I jumped through the floor when you started to go off and kept tunneling deeper. The rock must have absorbed the bulk of the explosion. I managed to get us here, to my handy little hideout.”
“Thank you for saving me,” I said, meaning it, though part of me wished he’d let that bolt of white light kill me.
“No problem.” Zuber dropped a pile of clothes in front of me. I recognized my own boots and jeans, and someone’s flannel shirt.
I rolled back over to face him. He’d made a little fire for us from some wood he must have gathered beforehand. “How did you get all this stuff?”
“I stole these for you from your room beforehand, since I figured you’d be in some skimpy Reveal get-up. I grabbed the wood and kindling from the lounge fireplace. I’d planned to spirit you out after the Reveal.”
“You’d make a hell of a jewel thief.”
Zuber poked at the little fire. “How do you think the Guild found me in the first place? Back in Baltimore, I used to help out my mama when we were low on cash. I’d walk into supermarkets after hours and help myself to some groceries. I guess word got back to them the third time I walked straight out of juvenile detention. Nothing could hold me. But I’ve gone clean. Now I steal only for the greater good.”
“You’re classified as a Volatile, aren’t you?”
Zuber nodded. “Marginally. I’m only a Level 6. It’s my association with Xavier that put me on their Most Wanted list. I wasn’t even on the Guild’s radar before that. Guess since my Talent is kind of rare, they hadn’t considered how dangerous a guy who could walk through anything could be.”
Zuber’s profile was a dark silhouette against the flickering light. Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic. The thought that Zuber could entomb someone at a whim, miles beneath the earth, made me shudder. But what did the Guild fear about Xavier? How dangerous could a beautiful voice be?
My insides were hollowed out. I’d grown used to the compound and the friends I’d made there. If I were to be honest with myself, Vincent’s weak heart could never have withstood my explosion. I’d killed him. If this cave became my tomb, I’d be just fine with that. A sob burst out of me. “It’s not fair. Vincent was trying to help me. And look where it got him.”
“No one could have stopped Vincent from helping you. It’s the way he’s made.”
“What if he’s alive? How can I just leave him?”
Zuber put a hand on my arm. “You have to, Beth. If he is, he’ll understand. If not, it won’t matter, will it?”
I brushed away tears with the back of my hand. “Everything and everyone I love dies, Zuber. How do I live with that?”
Zuber brought his face close to mine. “Would you rather Vincent’s sacrifice be for nothing? Terrible things have been going on within the Guild, Beth. I don’t know about Vincent, but Xavier has been trying to do something about it.”
The shock of that name startled me out of my despondence. “What can he do?”
“You don’t understand Xavier or his struggles. There’s much more to this than you can imagine.”
“So where the hell is he? How can he still be alive in the shape he was in?”
“He is. And he’s waiting for you.”
“Where?”
Zuber helped me to my feet. “It’s a long story. It’s time we get a move on.”
After I changed behind a rise of jagged rock, Zuber took me by the arm. Our surroundings liquefied as we passed through rock and dirt, then surfaced. The moonlit woods surrounded us, cold and mist-shrouded. In the distance, the light of the compound glowed golden through the haze.
“We haven’t gone very far.”
“Bear with me. I’m looking for something.”
We trudged through the freezing woods, the unrelenting fog clinging to our shins, obscuring the ground. It was like wading through liquid cotton.
“There,” Zuber said, pointing to a low ridge that jutted from the mist. “That’s the outer boundary of the compound. I’ve come in and out through here before.”
I tried to peer over the wall, which was shorter than I was, but only caught a glimpse of gray nothingness.
Zuber felt carefully along the wall, then turned to me, his face grave. “The Guild has wards in place around all around the compounds. Kind of like a bubble of protection and camouflage from outsiders. They’ve neglected them for so long they’ve grown porous in places. Xavier and I used to slip in and out of this one and a few others. The bad news is that this one has been patched up. If all the other passages are closed like this one is, we’re stuck.”
“That’s not cool.” We’d spent a few minutes searching in vain when I remembered the carved tree and the scribbled symbol of a wedge through a circle that Xavier had given me at great cost to himself. I pulled it out and studied it. “This symbol. What does it mean? I found it carved into a tree.”
Zuber sighed. “Maybe the tree is a marker. There was so much Xavier tried to tell me, but couldn’t. I’m piecing things together just like you are.”
Along with the note, I still had the Blast Mahoney button and the guitar pick in my coat pocket. I’d decided that keeping them there was the safest thing in case I’d ever had to make a quick getaway.
I clutched the cold disc of the button in my fist and the inflamed pinprick on my palm began to burn. “If we can find the tree with the carving, it might offer some clue I overlooked, since at the time I didn’t know I’d be needing a clue.”
“Maybe,” Zuber said. “But we should check the rest of my usual spots first.”
After we’d walked a good distance, checking on all of the exit points, Zuber was forced to conclude that, like the first one, they’d all been sealed up tight.
“They must have shored up all the holes right before the assault. If we try to slip through, they’ll know exactly where we are,” he said wearily.
“So we’re trapped.”
“We can hide out underground for a while. They can’t occupy the compound forever. With luck, they’ll conclude you died in the assault and leave.”
“Wait. What if that carved tree points the way to another exit? Maybe Xavier wanted me to know that.”
“Maybe,” Zuber said, distracted. He sat on the stump of a tree and gazed into the distance, silent as an Easter Island statue head.
“Don’t people come and go all the time?” I paced back and forth. “I know Monica and Vincent did. There’s got to be a VIP gateway. Andre is always going home to deal with his sick father. Maybe the tree points to the official gateway into the compound. You don’t think Monica climbs over walls, do you?”
“Even so,” Zuber said sourly, “they’ll have that entrance heavily guarded. It’s probably the one they broke down to enter the compound.”
I tapped my teeth with a finger. “I’m sure Andre can help us. We just have to let him know somehow.”
“They’ll be detaining everyone for questioning. They won’t let him leave, no matter what. What good is he to us anyway?”
“You don’t know Andre like I do. If there’s a way, Andre will find it. He can say his dad is si
ck and he has to leave. He’ll convince them with his touch. His Talent is much more Volatile than they realize. Then he can let us out.”
Zuber clucked. “If you say so. Maybe Pretty Boy can make the Guild assassins feel so good they won’t be in the mood to kill us.”
“Never underestimate Andre. I’m sure he’s looking for me right now... What was that good news you’d mentioned before?”
“Oh, good news. There’s a little bit of that. For one thing, there’s enough food stocked away in the cave to last a week, so if we do get stuck hiding out here, we won’t starve as quickly.”
I heaved in a sigh. “Not to be unappreciative of your heroics, Zuber, but this doesn’t sound like you and Xavier had a very well thought-out escape plan.”
Zuber shrugged. “Give me a little credit. I had to think fast with Xavier gone mute and deathly ill. He couldn’t help me at all. I figured your Reveal would be the best time to bust you out. I didn’t count on this full frontal Guild assault.”
“Where exactly is Xavier, and how’d you get him out of here?”
“We travelled inside a cargo container by rail to his hometown. Xavier figured it would be the best place to wait for you.”
I snorted. “Xavier’s hometown. Where’s that? Mars, or Jupiter? And why would I want to go there?”
“It’s about two hours south of here in Connecticut. Xavier thought you might want to join him there, since it’s the same town you’re from.”
Zuber’s words were like a hot poker stabbed straight into my gut. “Xavier’s from Linford?”
Puzzle pieces were snapping into place. The strange connection to Sam, the intense interest in me from the start. Still, I didn’t remember anyone named Xavier Smith and Xavier was not a person you could easily forget. Not all the puzzle pieces fit.
“It’s been hard to get information out of him lately.”
We walked through the misty woods, debating furiously. I wanted Zuber to take me back into the compound so I could check in on Vincent and tip off Andre. But he insisted it wasn’t worth the risk. I seethed with anger, but somehow managed to keep my rage at bay. Maybe I’d depleted my stock of death rays. Either way, we were at an impasse. I couldn’t sneak in without his help. And Zuber wasn’t about to budge.