by Vivien Reis
The game ended too soon and Mr. Flynn brought Ben's plate to the kitchen. "You should probably head home. It's nearly ten and I know your grandmother. She'll be waiting up for you to get back."
Ben nodded and stood up, his legs heavy but no longer tight and stiff. His head was clear, and the sleepiness had almost completely left him now.
"See you on Monday?" Mr. Flynn asked as Ben slid his boots back on.
"See you Monday," he agreed.
As he strolled to his car, he felt better than he had in weeks. Maybe there was hope for him. If these treatments worked, he just might be able to fix his broken family.
He got into his vehicle and drove back to Gran's, the infrequent street lamps briefly lighting up the cab of his truck in a waves of light.
Everything but the dark shadow looming in the seat next to him.
# TWENTY-SEVEN
As promised, at 7 a.m. sharp, Myra knocked on the door to Abi's hut and let herself in.
She wasn't sure what to think or who to believe anymore, and although the bed was the most comfortable she had ever lain in, she’d hardly slept. Strange visions peppered what little sleep she did get, making her wake up flushed and out of breath. Her arms and legs were leaden with stiffness, although some of the pain had subsided.
"Good morning!" Myra set the tray down on the dresser and moved to Abi's side, pulling the blankets off. Abi noticed her motioning to a wheelchair by the bed. "Let's get you to the bathroom first."
Abi was glad she offered but she didn’t like Myra’s proximity. Her cold hands burned on her skin, and Abi fought the urge to shrug her off, to push her away.
But the struggle to get into the wheelchair pulled her thoughts away from it. Her joints were impossible stiff and it felt like her muscles might rip clean apart.
Abi was horrified when Myra offered to help her onto the toilet but one quick no was all it took before she was alone.
"I confirmed your meeting with the Consul after breakfast, by the way," Myra shouted through the door.
Great. Abi wasn't excited about being wheeled around a strange island, but she was curious to find out where she really was. Myra was the only other person she had seen, and it left a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
A realization eked its way into her brain. Was this a cult? Her eyes widened. Had she managed to wind up on some remote island with a different set of cultists? What if they wanted her there for labor on sugar cane or in sweatshops?
A giggle from the other side of the door disrupted her thoughts. She hadn’t spoken aloud, had she? Certainly not...
That she knew of, anyway.
Abi collapsed back into the wheelchair. As she reached for the faucet, a burning sensation flared up in her shoulder and down her arm. She gasped.
Myra swung the door open, alert. She pressed her hands against Abi's shoulder, her brows knitted and lips pursed. It was like a switch flipped—one minute she was friendly and bubbly, and the next she was all business.
"Hmm. Your shoulder is angry from lying on that basement floor for so long."
"My shoulder has feelings now too?" An involuntary yelp escaped her as Myra prodded her back.
"No, I deduced that from the directional spasms of your muscles and the position you were found in. There's a lot of inflammation in there but that'll pass soon. We can speed up the healing process of the body, but only after the mind has healed itself first."
Abi dried off her hands, moving her shoulder with slowness. "What healing does my mind have to do?" The way Myra said it made the healing sound more physical than mental.
"Well…" She drew the word out, making her sound guilty of something. "Mostly from your transportation here. That's actually why you were out for so long."
Myra wheeled her out of the bathroom and laid out some clothes on the bed. "It's not exactly a pleasant experience. Remember meeting Roderick?" The name jogged something in Abi's mind but she couldn't quite grasp it.
"Not really." Abi was vaguely aware of herself changing out of the white shirt she wore and putting on a plain gray V-neck. The pants came next, and this time she couldn’t refuse Myra’s help. She could barely bend over, much less reach her feet to change. Myra moved with ease, like she did this all the time.
"He provided your transport. Not very many people can transport someone linked only one way--it can be very dangerous if things don’t go smoothly."
Abi tried to repeat the sentence in her head and decode what that actually meant.
Myra continued. "We call it microhopping. Where our minds can transport our bodies to a different location."
She waited for a grin to crack on Myra’s face but she didn’t give anything away. "Transport...as in teleportation?"
"Yes."
"Ha! That's funny."
"No, really. It's relatively easy once you learn it."
A whoosh of a vacuum moved the air near Abi as Myra disappeared and then reappeared to Abi's left with a familiar pop. A flash of memory showed someone doing this very thing right before her rescue. And the bursts of light shooting down the corridors and exploding in bright blue…
She inhaled to stop her churning mind. How could that be possible? She’d been in such a haze when she’d been rescued, but these things just weren’t real.
"You'll learn soon enough. Anyway, forcing another mind to connect with yours, like Roderick did, can damage the mind." Myra slipped some socks and sneakers over Abi's feet.
Damage? What had these people done to her?
"Don't worry, it's not permanent, silly. Your mind is already healing itself right on schedule." She stood and wheeled Abi through the door and down a long ramp.
The view from her window hadn’t done the island justice. An early morning quiet blanketed everything, the ocean waves just visible through the palm trees and underbrush. Myra pushed Abi down a wide sidewalk, past the other hut-like buildings next to hers. The trail curved ahead of them, disappearing in the towering fronds and flowering tropical plants lining the path.
"Hopping is just easier when both people are connected with one another. If you can imagine someone holding another person's entire bodyweight only by their wrist, it would leave a bruise."
"And now my brain is bruised?"
Even though Abi couldn't see Myra, she could hear her smile in the way her voice changed. "Sort of. It's not physically bruised. Your brain is separate from your mind."
Abi took that at face value, not wanting to debate the philosophical repercussions of that statement. They rounded the curve, and the sidewalk continued on into a forest, sloping upward.
"Where are we going?"
"Nocalu Caves. It's where all the Vikar meetings take place."
Abi stiffened. Was this cheerful girl a wolf in sheep's clothing? Caves were dark and damp and musty with cold stone and...chanting. She pushed the memory away, but had to wring her hands to stop the tremor.
"No need to be nervous. The caves just hold special meaning to our society.”
“Actually," Abi said, the tone of her voice carrying a sharpness she wasn't used to hearing, but she needed to know before they went any further. "I want to know something first. I didn't just bump into you at that party, did I?"
It was quiet long enough that Abi wondered if Myra intended to answer her. "No. We were doing surveillance and research in the area."
Abi’s stomach dropped. "Why? Did you know about the attack on my dad? Did you know something like that was going to happen?" If she did, why hadn't she warned Abi the night before, when they met?
"We had no idea that an attack was imminent, but we detected a large flux in the energy in that area. I was there to monitor someone, and I was staying with Jesse and Theo, who were doing field work in the area."
"Wait..." She took a breath. Jesse and Theo? Abi recalled Myra saying something to this effect yesterday but the words must not have sank in. “They’re here on the island?”
"Well, I don't know if they're here. They might still be c
onducting surveillance."
"But they're a part of your—I mean, this society?"
"Mmhmm."
Abi's head spun. Maybe it was Myra that was insane. Even when they’d gone past the other huts, Abi hadn’t seen anyone else on the island. Her heart raced. What if Myra was working with her kidnappers? What if this was all a ploy to break Abi?
"I swear." Myra's drawl was particularly thick. "You are driving me a little cuckoo. Don't you trust anyone?"
"No, I don't," she snapped. "I'm sorry, I was kidnapped and tortured for God knows how long—“
“A week.”
“—and it made me lose my faith in humanity a little bit," she continued.
"Well, don't you worry, we'll bring it right back." Myra sounded so cheery that Abi wanted to punch her.
It was too much. She was receiving more information than she wanted right then. And while a part of her liked Myra, another part didn't want anything to do with her at the moment. When was she going to be able to go home?
They went deeper and deeper into the trees, which looked less like tropical palm trees and more like the dense summer-time trees she was used to. The path eventually angling downward in a winding pattern.
A hole appeared in the trees, and Myra paused there, standing just beside Abi as she soaked in the view. A giant, glittering lake spread out below them. To the right was a cave opening cut perfectly into the side of the mountain. The lake below her was bright blue and still as glass. She had seen something like this before on TV—a volcano that had collapsed.
"The center of the lake is miles deep," Myra said. “Cool, huh?”
It was both frightening and intriguing. She wondered what might lurk under the calm surface of the water.
Dense trees covered most of the perimeter of the lake, except for a clearing directly across from them. A large building shimmered in the sunlight and Abi could make out tiny silhouettes of people sitting on a green lawn dotted with wide trees.
Myra pushed the chair again and as the path became steeper, Abi had to put her feet down on the ground to slow her momentum. They got to the mouth of the cave and Abi was surprised the wheelchair moved easily across the stone. She had expected the path to be bumpy but it was smooth and flat.
Every step that Myra took bounced and echoed off the walls of the cave as they went deeper. Abi had never been in a cave before, but she had thought them to be damp and musky smelling. The air wasn't exactly fresh but it was still clean. A slight breeze blew through the corridor, bringing hints of the salty ocean with it.
The tunnel narrowed until Abi could reach out on either side of her and touch the walls.
Myra pushed her confidently through the opening and yet another beautiful scene lay before them. The simple cave they had walked into opened to a wide lake of bright teal. Sunlight spilled in from above and highlighted the brilliance of the water, so clear that she could discern the uneven bottom far below. Green vines snaked up the walls of the cavern, disappearing into a large opening of the ceiling. A slow trickle of morning dew splashed from the skylight into the pool of water below.
Myra pushed her toward the right on a wider path skirting the lake. A strange rustling grew louder until she could make out voices. She flashed back to the basement and her palms grew damp with sweat. But as they drew nearer, she could tell the voices didn't sound anything like the haunting ones from the basement.
It sounded like a group of people in open discussion about classroom curricula on a subject Abi had never heard about before—transmutation.
Down through another small corridor, they emerged into a large circular room. The stone floor had been shaped into a stadium of sorts, reminding Abi of a Greek amphitheater. At the bottom, in an anachronistic set of plush chairs, sat nine people. Not one person resembled the other—male, female, young, old, with a range of ethnicities. Before them on the first steps of the stadium sat a man debating how early students should learn transmutation.
There was no ramp to the bottom so Myra steered Abi to the center of the walkway and activated the brakes on the wheelchair.
Although their voices traveled up to her easily, Abi's gaze wandered around the room. The group of men and women sat behind a large rectangular stone table with ornate detailing on the legs. Squinting, Abi could make out the same twisting and weaving patterns from the table all over the walls. It was art on a scale Abi had never seen before.
As they spoke, their open but kind authority eased some of her nerves. None of them seemed anything like the man from the basement.
She counted them, five women and four men. The youngest of the group, a woman with jet black hair, looked to be no more than thirty. Abi had no idea what governmental hierarchy existed in their society, but each person at the long stone table had an air of importance about them.
The oldest of the group, a man that had to be nearly ninety, said in a raspy voice, "Boys and girls have been taught from a young age the importance of animals in our world for thousands of years. I do not think it a practice that should be delayed in any way."
"Nevertheless, Professor," said the young woman, "we will take it into consideration and debate it further. We'll let you know when we come to a decision."
The other members nodded at the woman, who sat at the center of the table in the largest chair.
"That's Cecelia," Myra whispered. "She's the Grand Vikar this year and also the High Chancellor of Education. The Commander of Oracle Defenses is to her right and—"
The professor stood with a nod, interrupting Myra. He thanked the Vikars before ascending the steps toward Abi. He stared at her, his eyes hard. It wasn't a look of anger, maybe just curiosity, but it unsettled her. His movements were stiff and almost robotic as he exited the room.
"Abigail." Cecelia's greeting carried easily to the top of the steps, the large room doing little to echo or distort her words. She said Abi's name with warmth and familiarity, like an old friend might. "How are you feeling?"
Abi cleared her throat several times before gaining the confidence her voice would reach them. "I'm fine, thank you."
"We were waiting for you to wake up. I'm happy to see you're doing well." A few of the other members shared Cecelia's smile, but not all. "Let's not prolong the suspense any further." She annunciated each word in a way that almost seemed formal.
Abi felt awkward sitting all the way at the top of the stairs, and she caught the quick look the Grand Vikar gave the youngest of the men. He got up without a word and ascended the steps, stopping in front of Abi. She recognized him. He was the man that had…microhopped her to the island. His features were gentle yet muscular, bronzed skin highlighted by the white button-down that matched the other Vikars' attire.
"My name is Roderick. With your permission, I can carry you down the steps to be closer to the other members."
His accent conjured images of Italy or Greece, though she couldn't pinpoint it. Since he stood a few steps below her, she could see directly into his honey eyes. She nodded.
Jesse had carried her like this, but she hadn’t been fully conscious then. Now that she was awake, it felt strange and made her feel like a child cradled in his arms. Within seconds, she sat at the bottom step, directly in front of the Consul.
"We won't bombard you with all of our names, but for now, I'm Cecelia. Our mission to rescue you was a success, although at a cost." She paused, letting the weight of those words sink in. Abi shifted on the rough stone. "Myra here tells me you've never heard of our society. Did your mother not tell you about us?"
"My mom? What do you mean?" She looked to Myra but she seemed to be avoiding her gaze.
The Vikars exchanged nervous glances before Cecelia spoke again. "Mary Cole would have been sitting on this Consul today had her mind not given."
The words flew like ice shards through the air, freezing time. How could her mom have been a part of this?
"I think you're mistaken. My mom was—is a catatonic schizophrenic."
Cecelia's features
softened. "She wasn't always. Your mother was exceptionally powerful and power like hers generally sustains into the next generation."
"Even if my mom was a member of your society, I don't have any of these abilities I’ve heard about so far." Abi laughed aloud, exasperated. "I don't even know how any of this is real right now. How any of you think all of this is possible."
"So you've never heard voices or had any visions before?" Cecelia held something in her hand and rubbed it as she spoke.
"No, because where I come from they call that crazy." Her own sarcasm surprised her, in stark contrast to Cecelia's politeness.
The Grand Vikar changed gears at that. "We were all friends of your mother's, Abi. I met her when we were both sixteen, and we remained friends until she got sick. I actually met you soon after you were born. You had a full head of hair to rival Mary's."
Her mom was crazy. And now she was losing it too, but could this woman be telling the truth? How would her mom have been able to keep this a secret for so long? Did her dad know?
"The reason we called you here today is to find out what we are going to do with you." Her words sounded ominous, but the delivery was just as sweet as her earlier comment.
Abi's temper flared higher. "No offense, but you're not doing anything with me. I'm going home. You can't keep me here."
"As I know Myra has explained, for the safety of your own family and frankly, the world, we can't send you off unprotected."
"Then why can't I just talk to them? Why can't they come here?"
This time one of the elderly women spoke. "Because no non-gifted individuals have passed through these gates for hundreds of years. For good reason." Her tone was absolute, no room for debate.
"If the people that kidnapped me are dangerous, and I know firsthand that they are, my family are like sitting ducks."
"We’ve been trying to determine why you were abducted." Roderick leaned forward to explain. "Our working theory is that your mother gifted her abilities to you upon fleeing. That or she managed to block your abilities while you were growing up. Cecelia mentioned earlier that power like your mother's is likely to pass on to the next generation. That power rarely passes to more than one child."