by Antony John
I didn’t even see his hand move, but the weapon caught me square across the jaw. My feet flew out from under me and suddenly I was on the deck beside Alice. Her eyes were closed. I couldn’t tell whether she was alive or dead.
I tasted blood in my mouth and spit it out. When I looked up, Dare towered over me, an expression of surprise on his face. As our eyes met, he turned away. He grabbed Griffin and tried to push him toward the stairs, but Griffin fought back.
“Stop it, Dare! They’re children.” Tessa’s voice was weak, barely audible above the wind and rain, but the words stopped him in his tracks. “Isn’t it enough that you shot me?” I could hear the pain in her voice—she almost choked out the words.
Dare stared at her, and at Alice and me. Everyone who had crossed him was injured.
“Look around you,” she continued. “There are no Guardians here to stop you. You’ve won. Now put your gun away.”
As he studied the mess of bodies on the deck, Dare seemed confused, almost hypnotized.
It was all Griffin needed. He spun around and kicked at the back of Dare’s legs. The pirate dropped hard.
I clambered up and dove for the weapon in his hand. The thin cylinder was cold and smooth in my palm. In the back of my mind, I willed Griffin to escape. If there was one thing I knew for certain now, it was that nothing was more important than him. I didn’t need to believe in a solution to know that if Griffin could get away, we’d still have everything that Dare wanted. We’d have the upper hand.
But Griffin wasn’t moving. And neither was Dare.
That’s when I felt it—an ache that grew from my hand and spread along my arm and up my neck. My chest tightened too. Dare pulled the handle of the gun so hard that I could hear his teeth grinding.
The pain was inside my head now, and spread across my body like heat emanating from a fire. I felt the gnawing pressure, the sensation that my life was ebbing away. I wanted it to stop. I needed it to stop. Dare’s mouth twisted into a smile.
I closed my eyes and tried to harness my fear and uncertainty and anger. So much pain, but when I concentrated, everything converged. It was like a wildfire confined to a small space in my brain. And still it grew.
My breaths were short and fast. The fire became an inferno that left me blind and disoriented. I saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing. I was just a vessel for the force consuming me. It was ready to be unleashed.
In an instant, the inferno shot through me and into him.
The look in Dare’s eyes shifted from triumph to horror. He began to shake—not just his hand, but also his arm. It spread to his head, and then his entire body was contorting. He couldn’t seem to pull away anymore. The realization produced another jolt of energy that surged through me and into him. Now his eyes expressed nothing at all—simply flicked up and back until there was only white. His body relaxed so suddenly, it was as if I’d liquefied his bones.
“Enough, Thomas. Stop!” cried Tessa. “Don’t become him.”
Her words snapped me back to consciousness. I gulped deep breaths and rolled away.
“You were close. Too close.”
I knew what she meant. I’d felt it the moment I saw Dare panic, and again as his eyes had rolled back. It was an awesome feeling—power like I’d never known. I could’ve killed him, I realized. But who would I be then?
The weapon lay on the deck between us. I kicked it away. There would be time to ask the Guardians about that when the hurricane had passed. For now we had to get below deck.
“Tie him up,” said Tessa. “Let the Guardians decide his fate in the morning.”
Griffin took a fistful of Dare’s tunic and pulled him upright. Dennis joined him. They seemed to have him in a seating position when Dare’s eyes slipped down again.
He pushed Dennis to the deck and grabbed Griffin by the throat. He staggered toward his weapon. His expression had changed now—wild, as though his animal instincts had taken over. He was choking my brother to death.
I crawled across the deck and lunged for the weapon at the same moment as Dare. This time I didn’t wait for the power to surge through me—I just poured everything into him. He fought again, but he was stumbling backward toward the rail. It didn’t take much to press him against it.
Griffin wriggled free, and a moment later he had Dare’s torso hanging over the rail.
Tessa shouted “No,” but Griffin couldn’t hear her. He just pushed harder still, and didn’t stop until Dare’s body slipped overboard.
I barely heard the splash.
I looked down, waiting for him to reappear. But the surface of the water was covered with silver scales—not one fish, but several. Maybe hundreds. Thousands.
Just behind me, Rose stood still, eyes closed. The look on her face was pure concentration.
Griffin and Dennis helped Alice get below deck, their arms around her waist, her legs dragging behind. Tessa crawled after them. Finally, Rose opened her eyes and the fish dispersed. But the sound was no calmer. Storm gusts whipped salt spray against my face. The ship lurched beneath me.
We were battered, but alive. Relief washed over me, and my pulse slowed down. The fire that had consumed me was gradually extinguished, and my body shifted through several states, like colors bleeding into one another in a rainbow: invincible, powerful, relieved, vulnerable, weak, exhausted, empty—
I fell to the deck face-first. I didn’t even brace myself with my arms.
I couldn’t.
CHAPTER 45
As I lay there, I thought of Dare, presumably drowned, and felt no remorse. I thought of Griffin, and was relieved to know he’d escaped. I thought of my father, and how much I still had to learn about myself. I thought of Alice, and hoped she was still alive.
Griffin and Rose appeared above me. They hadn’t been gone long, but the hurricane was in full force once again. Rainwater ran off their hair in torrents. They fought to hold steady against the wind.
Dennis was beside them. He raised his face to the sky, and the wind calmed a little. I tried to make out what he was doing, but everything looked blurry.
Relax, Griffin signed.
I understood that he needed my pulse to be slow so that I wouldn’t hurt them. It wasn’t hard—I was barely conscious. I couldn’t even raise my head.
He and Rose gripped the material under my armpits and dragged me on my back across the deck. They struggled to keep their footing, but Dennis fell in step beside us, and if I doubted it before, now I was certain: He was keeping the wind at bay.
When we reached the hatch, they eased me down the stairs. As soon as I was on the floor, Griffin hobbled back up and locked the hatch door. The ship was rolling about again, walls creaking. The hurricane sounded almost as loud below deck as above.
Rose leaned over me. It was dark, and I couldn’t see her. But I felt every snatch of breath, every tear that fell on me, the end of her braid tickling my face. She wasn’t even pulling away.
“Alice,” I croaked. “Tessa.”
“Tessa’s back in the cabin,” said Rose. “Alice too. She’s unconscious, but Tessa says she’ll be all right.”
“Anchors.”
“We lowered them.” Her hair ran across my face again. I wanted to touch it, but I couldn’t raise my arms. “Relax now, Thomas. We need to get you to the cabin.”
“No. Father.”
It was obvious that she didn’t want to put me with my father, crushed between a cage and the wall. But in the silence that followed I knew she’d thought of something else too: that it was the best way to make sure I couldn’t harm anyone.
Rose and Griffin grabbed fistfuls of my tunic and pulled me into the tiny room. My legs tangled beneath me. My head collided with the door frame. I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t cry out.
“I’ll be back as soon as the storm passes,” Rose said. “I promise.�
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Without another word, she and Griffin climbed around me. They were being tossed about like driftwood now, and just getting through the doorway was difficult. As their footsteps receded, I imagined I could still hear Dennis’s voice keeping track of the wind’s incessant acceleration: forty knots, fifty, sixty.
I felt empty. It was a painful emptiness too, like every muscle in my body had been strained, torn, obliterated.
“Thomas?” My father’s voice cut through the emptiness. “Are you all right, son?”
Even breathing was hard. “My body . . . doesn’t work.”
Another gust or wave pushed me against the cage. The metal mesh dug sharply into my side. I couldn’t roll away. A groan escaped me, but I wasn’t aware of making it.
My father pressed his fingers through the mesh and touched my hand. Warmth radiated through his fingertips. “Stay calm,” he murmured. “Breathe deeply and concentrate on your heartbeat—keep it slow and steady. You need to find equilibrium if you want to overcome the echo.”
“Echo?”
“Shh! No talking now. Only deep breaths.”
I did as he said, and little by little my pulse slowed. I might have been imagining it, but it felt like something was returning to me, like an empty canister being filled with water.
Another violent gust, and our hands separated. I heard him curse, but a moment later he’d found my fingers again. We held each other tightly.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt so connected to my father.
* * *
I came to as footsteps drummed on the stairs just outside the door. At least, that’s what I thought I heard, but a moment later they were gone. After that, there was nothing but the sound of the weakening storm.
I stretched. Though I ached all over, I was in much less pain than I would have imagined. My father still held my fingers.
“Feel better?” he asked.
With my free hand, I raised a finger to my mouth. Dare’s weapon had split my lip, but nothing more. “Yes. But . . . how?”
He ignored my question. “What happened up there?”
“Dare tried to take back the ship. He had a weapon. When I grabbed it, he started to shake. Griffin pushed him overboard and now I think he’s dr—”
“Shh. It’s all right now.” His fingertips brushed against me. “How is Griffin?”
“He’s safe.”
“Good. And the others?”
“Dare hurt Alice badly. Tessa too—”
A wave of energy pulsed through his fingers, sudden and sharp. I yanked my hand away.
He muttered a curse, but calmed himself with a deep breath. When our fingers touched again, his energy level was normal, just as suddenly as if he’d blown out a candle.
“Tessa.” The way he said her name sounded odd, like a question—as if he was trying to remember where he’d heard it before. “She came back.”
“She helped us. But she’s hurt now.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Dare wasn’t even beside her when he did it.”
Father didn’t say anything for a moment. “You’re sure it was Dare?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Just . . . be careful around her. Remember, she chose exile over staying with you.”
I shifted my weight, but nothing felt comfortable. “Why did you tell me she was dead?”
“Because that’s how she wanted it. We make decisions, and we live with them. No matter how much we regret them.”
I needed to know about those decisions. “I found a picture in Bodie Lighthouse. Our family. Before Griffin was born.”
“Your mother . . .” He spoke quietly, and though he tried to hide it, I knew he was fighting tears. “I wish I could go back. Change everything.”
“In the picture she’s holding Ananias. Did she ever hold me? Or were you the only one who could stand it?”
Another pulse, but this one was different: a wave of soothing energy. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like a gesture of love.
“Oh, Thomas. Of course she held you. She adored you. Nursed you for over a year when you were a baby, but only when you were almost asleep. Your pulse would slow down then—gentle enough for her to cope.”
“Will anyone else ever touch me?”
“Yes. You’ll learn to listen to your heartbeat—control it too. You just need time.”
That was what I wanted to hear, but it still didn’t answer the biggest question of all. “Why have we been hiding our element?”
Yet another jolt—small, but this one scared me. It was the quality, as if he were channeling raw power. Anger, maybe. I wondered if it was the kind of energy I’d seared into Dare.
“We hid ourselves because of a promise,” he growled. “A stupid promise I should never have made. One I’ve regretted every day since.”
His breathing accelerated. It seemed to trigger a reaction in me, and my pulse quickened. He pulled away to prevent me from having to do it first.
“Sorry,” I said.
“No, it’s my fault. Our element is symbiotic. In the old times, a parent would teach it through touch—I would’ve adjusted your heartbeat and energy levels myself to show you the effect. But the Guardians stopped all that.”
“So why did you make the promise?”
“It seemed like the best choice.”
“But it was a lie. How can that be best?”
“Because the alternative was exile.”
“Like Tessa?” I tried to make sense of it. “Why would they exile you?”
“Not me. Us.” His voice sounded low and distant. “They fear us, Thomas. Their elements take one energy source and transfer it into another. But no one knows the limits of what we can do. Even me. I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, but how could I do that and make you promise not to think about it ever again?”
I couldn’t answer. It was a decision I’d never had the chance to make.
“On your sixteenth birthday, they wanted to make you an Apprentice. But I wouldn’t let them.”
“You?”
“Of course me. I wouldn’t let them fob you off with some pretend skill that had no real connection to you. Not while you had no idea who you really were.” He kicked out against the end of his cage. “I’ve lived the last sixteen years struggling to make a simple fire, while Ananias watches me pityingly. And all along, I’ve been hiding miracles the other Guardians can’t even comprehend.”
“I can make a lantern shine.”
“A lantern?” He snorted. “The energy you transferred to Dare wouldn’t illuminate a lantern, it would illuminate a hundred lanterns. Anger is the strongest force of all. But it’s unpredictable and exhausting—as dangerous for you as the person you touch.”
I thought of Dare, and the pirate who’d tried to capsize our sailboat under the bridge, and the one who had tried to stop us in the creek near Bodie Lighthouse. My element had served us well then, but at what cost? I’d been unable to stay conscious afterward. Father was right—I couldn’t lose control. I may not always have friends to save me.
“My energy travels through metal too.”
“Yes. That’s why the Guardians have tried to keep metal objects out of the colony as much as possible. They knew they’d never be able to explain your element, or the things you might do with it.”
“Like what?”
“On Roanoke you powered a lantern. But on this ship . . .” His tongue clicked. “When the hurricane passes, you need to look around. Dare will have instruments, machines, I’m sure of it. Only you and I can make them work—especially you. Your power is unthinkable, you hear me? Unthinkable.”
“Then so is yours.”
“No. We’re not the same.”
“You can’t know what I’ll be able to do. Even I don’t know.”
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br /> “Believe me, I know.” He found my fingers again, and his breathing grew slower. As quickly as he’d grown animated, he now seemed to be drifting toward sleep. With energy flowing freely between us, it was as though he was sending me to sleep too. “I just know.”
CHAPTER 46
When I woke again, I felt surprisingly fresh. I’d ache all over when I tried to stand, but at least the crushing emptiness had passed.
Rose stood in the doorway, silhouetted by a dull light. Somehow, her face was unblemished. The rain had even cleaned off the grime.
“Dennis says the hurricane has almost passed,” she explained. “It’s barely a storm now.”
It took a moment for the words to seep in. We’d survived. It seemed impossible. How could we have overcome Dare and his men?
“How’s Alice?”
Rose moved aside and Alice stepped forward. The left side of her face was hideously bruised. Her eye was partially closed.
“Oh, no.”
“It’s fine,” snapped Alice. “Tessa says it’ll heal eventually. Anyway, you don’t exactly look great yourself.”
“How is Tessa?”
“Not well. She won’t let us touch her shoulder.”
“And Griffin? And Dennis?”
“They’re all right. Dennis found a rope in one of the drawers from the cabin. He’s lowering it to the Guardians right now. But we need your help.”
My father seemed to be sleeping peacefully as I left the claustrophobic room. It was a relief to see him relaxed; he was worse off than any of us. In the weak light, I could make out the trail of blood leading from the floor of his cage, out the door, and across the corridor to the opposite wall. It looked as terrifying now as before, but he’d survived. That was all that mattered.
Toward the end of the corridor, Dennis stood beside the trapdoor, the rope dangling from his hands. He looked fully recovered, as though the headaches that had plagued him for days were finally over.
In the hull below, the Guardians moaned, desperate to leave their prison. When Kyte announced that he’d be going up first, no one argued.