“Huh?” Molly says. “But I’ve seen what he can do. He’s special.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Britton says barely above a whisper, “more special than they led me to believe.”
The shock of her strange behavior is quickly wearing off as irritation sets in. “What are you talking about?” I demand.
As if suddenly pulled from a fog, Mrs. Britton snaps back to her stern posture. “We know very little about the Aerling world, but centuries of caring for their children has taught us something.”
Mrs. Britton smoothes the front of her shirt and takes a shaky breath. Molly peers at her with her head cocked to one side and a worried expression on her face. Her hand tightens around mine.
“As we raise Aerlings, we pay close attention to their abilities—what they can do and how much power they have. We have no idea what they might call the different classes, so we named them in order to classify them more easily.”
The way she talks about this makes my skin crawl, like Aerling children are science experiments to study and arrange. Now isn’t the time to debate the ethical nature of the Caretakers I’ve met so far, so I stay silent and listen.
“You already know about the ruling class and the lay class. The lay class has Aerlings like Molly with average abilities and power. Ruling class Aerlings usually develop two to three major talents with a few minor talents that are less useful. They often have strengths in leadership and are highly intelligent as well.”
So far, I’m not seeing any problems. I don’t agree with Mrs. Britton’s assessment of Molly in the least, but I could fall into the ruling class fairly easily. Assuming I eventually get a handle on some talents, that is.
“What other classes are there?” Molly asks timidly.
“Only one that we know of.”
I sigh heavily and try to keep my tone civil. “And that would be?”
Mrs. Britton’s hands begin to tremble again, so badly that she has to clasp them together to keep them under control. She doesn’t answer right away. The fear that seeps into her expression pulls Molly closer to me. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and wait.
“The story Molly just told you about the Anemoi …” Her chin starts to quiver, and fear takes root in my core. “They are the third class.”
“The gods of wind?” I ask, confused.
She nods. “Yes.”
“The third class,” Molly says slowly, “are gods?”
Mrs. Britton breathes out slowly as she nods.
“But, what does that mean?” I demand.
“It means,” Mrs. Britton says, “that this isn’t just about stopping another Aerling from going home. Every Aerling sent to us is in danger from the Sentinels. Ruling Aerlings are in even more danger, because the Sentinels don’t want so much power being sent home to their enemies. But Aerling gods, the only class of Aerlings capable of killing a Sentinel, these they will stop at nothing to kill. You are one of the few that can stop them. You are in more danger than you can possibly know, and so are we.”
The weight I have carried on my shoulders since the day my original Caretakers died seems to double and press in on me. “That’s why the Sentinels killed them.”
“That is why they are still hunting you,” Mrs. Britton confirms. “They will stop at nothing to see you dead, Mason.”
Chapter 7
Aliens
(Olivia)
I feel a little like a store window display sitting in front of Evie and Robin like this. Both are staring at me with serious, focused expressions, trying to outdo the other on how helpful they can be. It was almost better when they were fighting with each other. The intense silence is just creeping me out now.
“Maybe I should just do this on my own,” I suggest.
“How are we supposed to know if it works?” Evie demands.
I stare at her. “I’ll tell you… when I’m finished.”
Robin shakes her head. “What if you pass out, or worse, this time? No, we need to be here.”
Sighing, I try to put them and their buggy eyes out of my mind. All I have to do is focus on Mason. How hard can that be? He’s practically all I think about anyway. Why is it suddenly so hard to daydream about being with him, of holding his hand, or kissing him? A rush of heat zips through my body at that thought and I immediately shove it away.
Yep, that’s why this is so hard.
Thinking about him is one thing. Wanting him so badly I induce another episode, well, that’s a whole different thing all together. I’ve never been a terribly shy person, but fantasizing about Mason while Evie and Robin look on watching for any sign of… anything, I’m not really comfortable with that.
“Is it working yet?” Evie asks.
My eyes snap open and I glare at her. “No, but thanks for asking. Again.”
Screwing up her face at me, Evie crosses her arms over her chest. “We’re only trying to help.” She flips her hair over her shoulder with her nose in the air. “I just don’t get what is so hard about this. All you think about is Mason. All you talk about is Mason. I’m gonna make a wild guess and say all you dream about is Mason.”
My dreams are none of her business! I fold my arms over my chest and avoid eye contact with either one of them. It doesn’t help. I can feel them staring at me, wondering. Especially Robin.
“Just think about how great it was when he would touch you,” Evie continues. “Think about how much you want that again. Think about his arms around you. Don’t you miss those moments when you’re the only thing on his mind?”
I close my eyes, seeking refuge from her words, but only finding the memory of the night I fell asleep in Mason’s room. If either of my parents had found us, I would have claimed it was an accident. It wasn’t. I made the choice to stay after his nightmares passed, because I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving him. I haven’t felt safe since Mason left, and not just because I know the Sentinel with the scar is still hovering somewhere just out of sight. I don’t feel safe because I feel like a part of me is missing and I have no control over what happens to it. I breathe in a deep, yet shaky breath.
“And you can’t tell me that replaying the few times he kissed you in your mind doesn’t make you absolutely insane with wanting him. I saw you two kiss. It was intense just being in the same room!”
Don’t, I beg silently. I can’t think about Mason kissing me. The back of my eyelids start to burn with salty tears. Every precious kiss we shared is an agonizing memory now that we’re apart, but the last kiss, that one is the worst. It wasn’t just hormones and excitement that made it sink into my soul. It is a memory that will last forever, because in that moment we both felt a connection form that tied us together until the end. It was terrifying and beautiful because neither of us knows what the end will be, when it will come, or what we will be forced to face before we get there, but we will be together at the end.
It doesn’t scare me that my death might be the price of Mason’s life. What scares me the most is that it might be the other way around. What if I can’t find the answers soon enough to help him? What if we’re brought back together on his birthday and I am the one to walk away, to return a broken Escort who has lost all purpose in life. What if I can’t save Mason’s life?
The desire to cry is nearly overwhelming, but I don’t want Robin to see my tears. If she sees weakness, she’ll doubt my strength to see this through. I doubt myself too much already. I need her faith, her help. I need every ounce of confidence I can get. I can’t fail Mason. I can’t.
I miss him so much. My eyes squeeze more tightly shut. The desire to be with him blossoms and grows, swelling within my chest until it feels as if it is taking away all my air. I gasp in a breath desperately, but there seems to be no room for it. My head swims. Panic creeps into my heart and I grapple for some kind of control. I breathe in again and again. Black spots erupt in front of my eyes, and I can feel myself losing the battle quickly. My muscles lose any ability to function and I start to fall.
Halfway to th
e floor, something else takes over and snaps me back up to sitting. My head jerks forward under the force. Somewhere in the back of my mind I am screaming at myself to breathe, but all I can focus on is the sensation radiating out of my center. I press my hand over the spot and am almost surprised to find nothing out of the ordinary. The feeling pulls at me, tugs, begs me to get up and follow it.
The pleading seems vague at first, but it slowly intensifies and becomes familiar. Every emotion that has just run through me as I thought of Mason solidifies as if it’s a lifeline latched directly to his soul. I gasp at the recognition and revel in the feeling. “Mason,” I whisper.
“Did it work?” Evie exclaims.
Robin is right behind her with, “What did you feel?”
The intrusion of their voices severs the connection. With the loss, agonizing pain rushes into my body. I collapse and groan under the onslaught, pressing my hands to my head and curling into a ball.
“Olivia!” Evie screeches. “Olivia, are you alright? What happened?”
Somebody tries to touch me, but I slap their hands away viciously. “Don’t, please, it hurts,” I moan.
“Just lie still,” Robin says softly. “Relax. Breathe. Shut your mind down for a minute.”
I roll my head back and forth in my hands, begging for the pain to stop. My mind immediately goes to Mason, worry that I’ve somehow hurt him through the connection, but just thinking of his name sends another shot of agony through my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut and block everything out.
Cradling my head, I try not to cry as the pain slowly ebbs away. The mumble of quiet voices rouses me some time later. I don’t know how long, but the sun is still dangling above the neighbor’s roof, so it must not have been more than a few minutes. I push back up to sitting carefully and wince at the lingering zaps of pain that shoot through my body.
“Are you okay?” Evie asks.
I start to nod, but it hurts, so I just say, “Yeah.”
“What did you feel?” Robin asks.
“Pain. Lots and lots of pain.” My fingertips massage my temples gently. “I felt Mason, too. He’s somewhere to the west of us.”
“Could you tell how far?” Robin asks.
I shake my head. “Sorry.”
Her face falls, but she says, “It’s okay. It’s still progress. We’re getting there.”
“No more for today,” Evie says firmly. I wholeheartedly agree. So does Robin, thankfully.
Evie offers me her hand and helps me get up onto the couch. Searching for a new topic that causes less pain, I remember a question I had from our last conversation.
“What did you mean the other day when you said that you only hide Aerlings now because of the Sentinels? If they weren’t hunting Aerlings before, why are they now?”
Robin’s entire body seems to scrunch in on itself. This topic clearly makes her very uncomfortable, but she doesn’t try to get out of talking about it. She does, however, get up off the floor and drop into one of the armchairs.
“This is another one of those questions nobody really seems to know the answer to. Or if they do,” Robin says, “they certainly aren’t sharing it with the rest of us.”
“Why is that not surprising?” Evie says.
Robin actually seems to agree. “What I can tell you is that when Aerlings first starting coming to this world, no one knew anything about Sentinels. There is no mention of them in the earliest writings. Aerlings were celebrated openly. It wasn’t until the year 75 AD that there is a recorded account of a Sentinel killing an Aerling.
“At first, Caretakers thought it was just a strange occurrence. Then more Aerlings started dying. Soon after, the protocol for hiding Aerlings was put in place.”
It’s a lot to think about. I know I have about a million questions running through my foggy head right now, and I’m sure Evie has a million more. I try to organize my thoughts enough that I can put together a coherent question.
“A while ago you said that Caretakers and Sentinels are both born with their abilities to either see or sense Aerlings, depending on which they are, right?”
Robin nods.
“So, where did those abilities originally come from?” I ask. Evie’s eyebrows arch, making it clear she wants to know the answer as well. “I mean, were they always present in certain people here in this world, and they only mattered once Aerlings were sent, or did something happen to make these abilities appear?”
Confusion inches its way onto Robin’s expression. “What do you mean, something happened? Like evolution, or like someone caused us to develop these abilities?”
“Or,” Evie says slowly, “like you guys ain’t from around here either.”
“What?” Robin demands. “You think we’re aliens?”
Evie shrugs, and I can tell by the glint in her eyes, that she’s enjoying Robin’s reaction just a little too much. “I don’t know. Aerlings aren’t from our world. Is it so hard to believe you and the Sentinels might not be either?”
“But, why wouldn’t we just stay wherever the Aerlings come from and do the same thing there?” Robin asks. “Seems like a whole lot of trouble traveling between worlds and such if we didn’t have to.”
Evie harrumphs in disappointment as the logic of Robin’s answer sinks in. “Fine, maybe you’re not aliens, but it is weird that Sentinels were so late to the game. Something changed that brought them either here, or out of the woodworks.”
We both look to Robin, but she can only shrug. “I don’t know!” she exclaims. “I’m the last person that would be privy to any secret explanations.”
I sit back against the couch, my headache finally having mellowed from jackhammer to throbbing, and consider the possibilities. It sounds like Caretakers have been at work as long as Aerlings have been coming here. They had to have been or else all the precious little Aerling infants would have died because no one could see them to help them. They worked together for centuries without any interference, but then something changed. Either Sentinels evolved into what they are in order to get rid of Aerlings—which I have to admit doesn’t make a lot of sense unless Aerlings are inherently evil—or something intentionally caused them to develop this extra sense.
The question is, who or what would want to kill Aerlings badly enough that they would create a whole race dedicated to that purpose? What is it about Aerlings that someone would detest enough to start a war with them?
“I don’t think you’re an alien, Robin,” I say, “but I do think that this whole situation has a lot more to do with whatever is going on in the Aerling world than it does with this world.”
“What do you mean?” Evie asks. Robin looks just as curious.
I sit up slowly and choose my words very carefully. “It would make no sense to have Caretakers if there were no Aerlings, right?”
They both nod.
“In order for Aerlings to be sent here, someone has to be ready to care for them, so I think the Aerlings who first sent their children here made that happen… somehow.”
“And the Sentinels?” Robin asks.
My shoulders bob up and down in a shrug. “There’s a reason Aerlings send their newborn infants here to be raised. My guess is that it isn’t safe to keep them in their world. Whatever it is that makes it unsafe, that must be the reason there are Sentinels. I guess it just took them a lot longer to figure out how to do whatever the Aerlings did and twist it to their own purpose.”
Of course, this is all purely conjecture, but Evie and Robin consider it carefully. Maybe at some point we will find a better answer to this. Until then, both agree that it makes more sense than anything else. Robin is the first to speak.
“You do realize that if you’re right, getting Mason home may only be the beginning of the battle, don’t you?” Robin says.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, “I do.”
Chapter 8
Just Another Nightmare
(Mason)
Normally, I try to avoid much interaction with the Brittons,
especially after the whole Aerling god thing. The anxiety inspired by approaching Mrs. Britton of my own free will is astounding. My hands are shaking as I walk up to her desk.
She’s so absorbed in whatever she’s doing that she doesn’t notice me. I’m forced to clear my throat to get her attention. Mrs. Britton looks up, startled. “Mason, sorry I didn’t hear you come in. Did you need something?”
I swallow hard. “Uh, no, but I wanted to talk to you.”
Even more curious now, Mrs. Britton sets down her pencil and removes her reading glasses. She sets them down on the desk as well and gestures for me to pull up another chair. I feel stiff and heavy as I drag the rolling chair toward the table. As I sit down, it feels as if an unseen hand presses down on me.
“What did you need to talk about?” she asks. “Is there a problem with the training, or a question about your powers?
“No,” I say, shaking my head, “it’s about leaving.”
Mrs. Britton blinks slowly. “Leaving this world, or leaving our home?”
“Your home.”
She looks as if she was expecting this, but I seriously doubt she understands the reason behind my seeking out this conversation. I’m not scared about going to a new Caretaker home. I understand the danger involved in moving me, but staying longer than the few days I have left here is even more dangerous. Faith that the Caretakers will do everything they can to protect me gives me some comfort. No, my fears come from a different direction.
“I know I have to move every week in order to keep the Sentinels from tracking me down,” I begin, “but I’m worried about exposing too many people to my presence.”
A deep wrinkle forms on Mrs. Britton’s forehead. “What do you mean? Your physical presence presents no immediate danger to anyone.”
“It does if they’re trying to train me.”
Realization dawns on Mrs. Britton. Her body tightens angrily. “Molly told you about the last time Caretakers were responsible for training a special Aerling like you.”
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