Divided (Book Five) (Fated Saga Fantasy Series)

by Humphrey - D'aigle, Rachel

  Meghan slammed her mouth shut, realizing that she had been gaping with it just hanging wide open. “What the heck is happening?” she spoke in a coarse whisper. Only Nona heard her. “Is everyone on this island going crazy?” Meghan continued ranting. “First, Ivan gets all nice, and now Jae is acting completely mean. It’s mental!” Meghan glanced down at Nona. “Maybe they switched bodies?” she suggested with an edge of sarcasm.

  “Interesting theory,” her catawitch replied, adding, “I’ll see what I can find out while you're in school.” Nona bounded away toward the direction Jae and Darcy had taken.

  Meghan scrunched her eyes closed hoping that when she reopened them she would suddenly find herself somewhere else, anywhere else. But upon opening them, students were streaming by heading to school. Can this day just be over already? She wished she could skip classes, but knew instantly that would be a mistake. “Okay, just get it together,” she mumbled, heading toward the school again.

  Just before she reached the entrance, an ominous scream echoed nearby.

  A foreboding shadow grew overhead.

  The Balaton popped into view again, ordering the students or anyone close by into the school. Meghan raced alongside other scurrying students as an announcement rang across the island, “Attack immanent! Remain indoors!”

  Nona came charging back running alongside Meghan. Once inside, they were directed into an assembly room, and waited, for what seemed like hours, for any news. The teachers would not allow them near any doors or windows. Nevertheless, enough sound seeped through the walls, enough to know it was a definitely a Scratcher attack.

  Meghan did overhear one of the teachers explaining to another teacher that they had expressed this very concern in their last zone meeting: wondering if any Scratchers had managed to stay behind and survive on the island, after they had abandoned it so many years before.

  I guess you got your answer now... Meghan shouted in her head.

  Meghan overhead students talking about the Scratchers and how they wished they could kill one, like that one kid did from that one group. What was his name… Colin Jacoby.

  She crept to a corner and ignored their stares, which cried out, If he could do it, could she? She knew she could not, but now had her suspicions as to how Colin had done it. Or she should say, how Catrina had done it. She is a Projector after all...

  Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, a Balaton entered the school and advised the teachers it was once again safe and recommended the students be sent home. Classes were postponed for the day and students began hastening out of the school to check that no one in their families had been injured, or worse...

  Meghan made her way to the entrance where the Balaton was speaking with one of the teachers. “Far as we know, just one injury,” he was saying. “Not life-threatening,” he added upon seeing her concerned face.

  “Who?” asked the teacher. “Who was injured?”

  “Young man, name of Jae Mochrie,” he told her.

  Meghan’s eyes popped open wide.

  “Didn’t see it myself, but apparently he fought one of’em, gave it a thorough magical beating, or so I've been told.”

  Meghan raced out of the school and directly to the hospital, which is where she assumed Jae would be. Sure enough when she walked in, she saw Sheila and Mireya Mochrie, who had just arrived as well. After a quick hello, she followed them to Jae’s room. It was surprisingly full.

  A couple of Balaton were there, questioning him. His family was there. Billie Sadorus had heard and stopped in to wish him well. She nodded at Meghan, smiling and leaving as her brother Garner stepped into the room. Billie nodded to him curtly. He replied with an abrupt nod of his own. Meghan stepped to the side, trying to avoid his glower, but he ignored her presence and strode to the bedside.

  She stood near the back, waiting for a moment to see Jae, but people were filing in and out for the next hour. Once, briefly, a straight line opened up between her and Jae, so she shot him a quick wave through the crowd.

  He did not return her wave though, appearing uncomfortable by the many visitors. She decided to stay near the back until the right moment to approach him and while waiting, found it impossible not to overhear the various conversations taking place.

  “They say he nearly had the beast down,” one man spoke, while exiting.

  “I heard he had jumped onto its back,” another one said.

  One of the Balaton approached, shaking his head. “No. No. You've got it all wrong...” they left the room in a heated discussion. Garner tagged along, apparently eager to hear what had really happened. Meghan wondered why he was suddenly showing interest in Jae Mochrie.

  “It’s like everyone's suddenly got split personalities,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Slowly, the excitement waned and the room began to empty. Meghan heard the boastful voice of Irving Mochrie speaking to the one remaining Balaton.

  “A proud day! Yes, of course! Proud as a father can be!” he was saying, over dramatically.

  Meghan thought for sure Jae would be smiling as his father said this, but instead, Jae just stared emptily out of the window.

  There was a gash along his right arm, which was already healing with the aid of some sort of magical goop, and a black eye to go along with his cut lip. He glanced and caught Meghan’s eye.

  She saw nothing there, just empty space, as if Jae was missing somehow. He turned away from her, to what she could only assume was obliviousness or annoyance at her presence, and she left without another word.

  ##

  Catrina Flummer sat comfortably, listening intently to every word Jasper Thorndike and Colin discussed. She wanted to know everything about being a Projector. Everything that could help her, help Colin.

  With each new discovery about his potential, she could see flashes of emotion racing across his face. Having only been introduced to the magical world less than two years prior, here he sits a potential threat to everyone and everything. She could not imagine how this was making him feel, other than completely overwhelmed.

  “We discovered, many long years ago,” Jasper was saying, “a way to manage our powers. And this method worked very well for a very long time. The books, that we call Magicante, are a Projectors best friend… that’s a bad way to explain it,” he said, rephrasing it. “It’s a much deeper relationship than that.”

  “What do you mean exactly?” asked Colin, now wearing his intrigued face.

  “The books were created by the Projectors of old, as a way to store extra power. They were, in essence, a second soul. They became a part of the Projector. The book and the magician became one and the same.”

  Colin nodded that he understood and that Jasper could continue.

  “The main problem with being a Projector is that anything you can think of, you can do…”

  There’s his worried face again, Catrina noted silently.

  “It’s like this, Colin. Our minds have a constant stream of thought. Imagine those streams of thought becoming real, happening in reality as fast as you can possibly think them.”

  “So why isn’t that happening to me now?” he asked. He gazed around the boat as if expecting some terrifying thing to happen.

  “It is not happening to you now because you’re not sixteen yet. You could, if you wanted, wish something into being right this moment. However, right now, you have to focus to make it happen. Once you reach maturity, it’s as simple as a whim.”

  “I have whims all the time,” Colin spoke, his voice distraught.

  “And we’re back to ‘I’m going to end the world again’,” Catrina muttered, wishing she could do more to help.

  Jasper tapped Colin’s leg. “This is why the books were created. The books serve as a storage facility for that stream of consciousness. It also serves as a filter, keeping what might be valuable and tossing what is… well, crap. Which is a lot.”

  Colin sighed. In relief, Catrina hoped.

  “I get that the book serves as storage
for all the crazy, uncontrollable thoughts that might pop into my brain,” said Colin, “but can you tell me why these books are so popular? Since you sold me that copy during the Blue Moon Festival back in Cobbscott, which I wish I hadn’t left behind, I’ve been attacked and nearly killed. Why do people want these so badly?”

  “Because of an unexpected side effect. We had believed that once a Projector had died, that the book would essentially cease to exist as well. This however, did not happen. Once a Projector died, the book became a living dictionary of their accumulated knowledge, in essence becoming its own being. Once the connection was permanently broken, the second soul continued to exist. It did not have the Projector’s power by any means, but the knowledge alone…”

  Colin nodded.

  “More understanding,” muttered Catrina, hopeful that Colin was again finding his confidence.

  “So with these books acting like a second soul, how is it that Projectors went bad? What happened exactly? How do I make sure it doesn't happen to me?”

  Jasper thought hard for a minute before continuing. “By not being a fool!” he finally spoke vehemently. “Basically, what it comes down to is good old fashioned arrogance.” He took a deep breath and then said, “There was a small group of Projectors that thought they could do it better. Thought they could manage their powers on their own. This, over time, changed to why should we do it better? We are better. And people should know it.”

  “Like so many times before,” whispered Catrina just loud enough that they could hear her. “Power. Greed. Desire for more than everyone else. It has taken over many once pure hearts,” she said dolefully.

  “That it has, Miss Flummer. That it has,” agreed Jasper. “Which gets us to the heart of it all. You have to want to be good. Pure and simple. You must lead a life of honesty and simplicity. Any desires you have can become your greatest enemy. The smallest desire, if nurtured, can take down an entire world… you must let go of these things and live in the moment. Never regretting your past, never desiring for the future. Always, always, in the present.”

  Colin swallowed as if attempting to swallow a dried up biscuit.

  “Colin, you can do this,” said Catrina, seeing his confidence crumbling again.

  “But I am capable of bad things,” he reminded her, standing and walking in circles. “Look what I did in the E-Valley!” he shouted. “I killed that Scratcher without a second thought to the consequences it might have! I destroyed the Goblin King and half his goblin minions because I felt like doing it! I felt like they deserved it.”

  “No. You did those things because I told you to,” said Catrina, bowing her head to the floor.

  “Yes, I suppose,” agreed Colin. “But it doesn't change the fact that I wanted to do it. I wanted that Scratcher to suffer. I wanted it to pay for its crimes. I wanted to prove to Eidolon that I could beat him.” Colin felt a rush of both fear and excitement at this admittance.

  “Colin, I knew what you were before we even met,” explained Catrina, her voice mournful. “And maybe this was wrong of me, but I knew it would be vital for you to know what you’re capable of...” she gazed at him as if a thousand apologies would not be enough.

  Jasper nodded. “No. Knowing what you are capable of, and the consequences thereof, is how we learn. The fact is, Colin, you are bound to mess up. Possibly severely. But the good news is, nearly anything you mess up can be fixed.”

  Colin’s head was a whirlpool of confusion.

  “Colin, look at me,” ordered Jasper. “I am living proof that it is possible to overcome your … condition … you can live a fairly normal life.”

  “Where do I start?” he asked, sounding wary.

  “You’re going to make a book,” said Jasper. “Once your book is completed, I will perform the ceremony that turns the book into Magicante, thus binding you and the book together, forever.”

  Colin nodded okay. “So how do I make a book?”

  Jasper stood up and motioned for Colin and Catrina to follow.

  ##

  Freyne Rothrock waited impatiently for his guest to arrive. When he heard footsteps scratching along the rocky ground he called out, “Did you bring them?” His voice ravaged into the silent night like a jagged knife.

  No one answered, but the footsteps grew louder and closer.

  “Did you bring them, Vaskvol?” Freyne demanded, this time his voice holding edges of unrestrained desire.

  The one named Vaskvol approached, wearing a heavy cloak. A hand stretched out and opened. His palm was empty and an eerie smile slipped across his face. “Did you really think I would be that stupid, Freyne Rothrock, the ninth of us?”

  Freyne returned Vaskvol’s smile with a jeer of his own, before answering. “Never doubted for a moment, Romul Vaskvol, the sixth of us... since you’re so particular to remind me that I was the last Grosvenor to be created.”

  Vaskvol slipped the hood off the back of his head, showing his gaunt face. It looked as though a thin layer of leather had been poorly glued over his skin. A scraggy scar slit across his face, eye to chin.

  Freyne slipped his head cover off as well. The bright moonlight made his aged skin look pale and thin and his face and neck were lined in popping bluish streaks.

  “Tell me again, Freyne, about your plan,” spoke Voskvol. “I want to hear it from your own lips.”

  “You’ll find no deception spoken through these lips,” retorted Freyne. “Only the desire to survive this monstrosity that our fearless number one, Fazendiin has created!”

  Vaskvol growled his displeasure at what Fazendiin had done. “You know this is why I am here.”

  Freyne nodded and continued. “Once the immortality stone was stolen from us so many years ago, after our creation, I suspected that keeping a few extra stones around wouldn't be such a bad idea, and now I've been proven true. Especially since I was not alone in my thinking,” he grinned wickedly.

  Voskvol threw him a rough nod. To himself he thought, I always knew one of us would try and pull ahead in this race...

  Freyne continued explaining his plans. “I want to collect all of the stones still in existence and do what we did before. Combine them into one. One big enough to collect, store and use the power of a Projector. Only this will give us the edge against Fazendiin when he makes his stand.”

  “And just how do you propose we gain the power of a Projector? The young one is not yet ripe,” Vaskvol spoke, as if the young Projector were something one could simply pluck off a tree and devour.

  “There is another,” slipped out Freyne.

  “Another? How do you know this?”

  “Let’s just say that our fearless number one has more enemies than friends…”

  Vaskvol sighed petulantly. “Very well. But I warn you now, Freyne, if your plan fails…”

  “Oh, it won’t,” he spoke with malevolent certainty.

  Vaskvol held out his palm again, this time six small stones materialized. “This includes my own stones, plus that of Narona Fentress, the eighth of us to be created.”

  Freyne eyed the stones greedily. He reached down and carefully picked them up, taking out his other hand and combining them with the others he had himself kept hidden. He now had ten stones in total. Not quite enough for the deed he intended on doing, but enough for what he needed right now.

  He threw the stones into the air, waving his hand around them. They began swirling around each other. Freyne backed away, his eyes wild with excitement.

  “Lungere unifirmare,” he spoke in a feverish timbre.

  The small stones smashed together with a loud crack, and a bolt of light shot out from them as they melded into one another, creating one larger stone.

  Freyne reached up and grasped it in his hand.

  “Thanks,” he said, his voice resembling a slither.

  Vaskvol just stared at him, now bored and ready to return into hiding.

  “Oh, just one more thing,” said Freyne, stepping closer. Vaskvol looked up but it was too lat
e to react as Freyne thrust the stone onto Romul Vaskvol’s chest, directly over his heart.

  The power was like electricity, Freyne could not pull it away, not while Vaskvol’s powers were sucked out of him and into the stone. He stared Vaskvol straight into the eye, uncaring that he struggled to breathe. Uncaring that he was killing a man that had been alive for hundreds of years.

  As the power drained from his body, Vaskvol began to look as though he was deflating, as if someone had drained out every fiber in his body, leaving only a leathery carcass behind. With his final ragged breath, he slithered to the ground, a pile of skin and liquefied bones.

  Freyne stepped back, sucked in a deep breath, and delicately put the stone into his pocket. He stared down at the remains, nudging them with his boot-covered foot. “Thanks, again,” he muttered spitefully, pulling his cloak back up over his head. “One down…” he added, stepping into the night. His body shifted and twisted, fading into streams of black shadow, which charged hastily into the darkness.

  ##

  Kay Jendaya stepped hastily into her home. “Milo,” she called out. He raced down the stairs, meeting her in the kitchen. “Amelia has called an emergency meeting,” she told him.

  “Emergency meeting?” he repeated.

  “Everyone is required to attend,” she added.

  He patted her on the shoulder. “We must go then.” Kay’s eyes screamed concern. “It’s only been a few weeks, no one can know yet,” Milo reminded kindly.

  She nodded. “Yes. You’re right of course.” She closed her eyes and when she opened them, wore a practiced smile. Her face gave away nothing of her fears over their son’s defection becoming public knowledge. “Shall we?” she said.

  Milo held open the door and they exited. They scurried to the center of their village, following others filing into a pavilion. The ground was covered in hard stone, which had been carved to form long lines of hard benches. In front of the benches was a small stage, in which Amelia Cobb stood, patiently waiting for everyone to gather. Once all the benches were filled, those still filing in found places to stand near the backside of the pavilion.