beats per minute

by Alex Mae

‘Sam is opposite you.’ And he was, suddenly, standing in the other circle made by the figure of eight, the distance between them connected by the lines of salt. ‘Focus on your heartbeat. Can you hear it?’

  She nodded; at least, she thought she did. Maybe she imagined it.

  ‘Now. Can you hear his?’

  Her first instinct was to say what? She had never been asked a question like that before. Hear his heartbeat? What did she mean?

  ‘Reach out with your senses. Power is all around you. You can see it. You can see the power within yourself. Trust in this.’

  Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden – a weirdly mundane sensation, like sobering up to find sick down your front - she strained her ears. Nothing. She wanted to cry. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

  Her own heartbeat, steady and sure, began to jump, slightly.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath, commanding it to slow. It did. She didn’t know why, but it suddenly occurred to her to think of her power like a harness, something she could throw away from herself and hook onto something else. In her mind’s eye, she pushed out from herself, grasping.

  And at last, there it was. A faint thumpa thumpa. She strained towards it.

  There! The beat was strong, loud, and a little faster than her own. She knew without needing confirmation that it was Sam’s.

  Liana knew, too. She always knew.

  ‘Good. Now I want you to try and hold onto his heartbeat, and pull it toward your centre. His bpm must be matched to yours. You are trying to subdue his will to your own, do you understand?’

  She didn’t, really, but knew she had to try. Now that she knew where the heartbeat was, it would be easier, surely.

  ‘But you must be fully Awake. You know how to prepare. Do it. Keep his heartbeat in your sights. And keep your eyes open at all times: this is something you need to see.’

  She could see Sam preparing himself, seeming to vibrate slightly; she could feel his heart swelling and the beat becoming stronger. She went inside herself, and with a surge of satisfaction she was almost immediately greeted with the little charge, the current zooming up her veins, the sensation of a key sliding into a lock. It was muscle memory, just like Bree had said. She was zoning more quickly than ever before.

  ‘Yes! The clock is now cradled in your hand, to speed or slow as you desire. But this is not where the lesson ends, this time. Raegan! Find his bpm. Conquer it- conquer him.’

  Spurred on by her mentor, Raegan locked eyes with Sam and reached for his heartbeat as he reached for hers. A curious feeling pinched at her, a little tug. It was invasive and she was not prepared. She faltered.

  The intrusive, unpleasant sensation continued, growing almost painful. Then she gave a little cry; the little yellow bead inside her had begun to move, pulled out of her chest by the advancing purple sun. Sam’s face was tense with concentration, his heartbeat pounding in her ears. She began to feel weaker and disorientated; what was he doing to her?

  ‘Trust your instincts!’

  Something kicked in, some survival sense. There was no skill, only a wild energy; but it was enough to yank the sun back before it reached the edge of her body. The yellow ball jerked and stayed still.

  It was sheer force of will that allowed her to struggle on against Sam, raising her head to meet his gaze – he tried to look away, but it was too late; ah, so eyecontact made it easier! She reached out for his heartbeat but it slid away. Again, with steely determination, she called; and watched in wonder as her sun moved out of her chest, but with purpose this time, not pulled against its will. It advanced toward the centre of the figure of eight, slowly, battling against some invisible tide. Sam’s sun jerked forward and they both stopped short of the centre, suspended in the air as if on a wire.

  She held his heartbeat, commanding her own forward, on, to meet it. They were both sweating now; Raegan thought she could hear herself panting with the effort. The beads moved back and forth, minute degrees, as they both continually lost and gained ground.

  ‘You see?’ Liana broke in, speaking quickly so as not to be too distracting. ‘You see how much resistance is needed to keep your power safe?’

  Raegan felt exhausted, the dual heartbeats ringing within her ears, eyes stinging so badly she thought they might explode.

  ‘This will go against every instinct that you have, Raegan – but I must now ask you to stop fighting so hard. Give in to Sam.’

  Raegan thought Liana had overestimated her; she didn’t want to lose, and was afraid of what might happen if she let go, but she was tired, so tired. To let go would be a relief.

  She was wrong. The minute she relaxed, Sam’s power smacked into her; more painful than a physical blow. The aftershock was strong enough to have a physical effect, and she was picked up and tossed, flying backwards. The cold sting of the ground was almost a blessing but she could not move. His power rolled over her. She was drowning.

  Struggling, she somehow forced herself to her feet, and stumbled away; she knew she had to escape, but could feel him closing in on her. She immediately wanted to give herself more time, to slow it down so that she could run - but when she reached out, she couldn’t. Even as her vision cleared and she regained use of her limbs, she felt half suffocated, a vital piece of herself missing. It was like being held forcibly within a black hole.

  Though she had regained her strength, the loss of those precious seconds had allowed Sam to catch up with her. He had her by the throat now. Over his shoulder she saw Declan get to his feet and then-

  ‘Okay, Sam, let her go.’ His grip tightened fractionally; and then there was space around her windpipe and Raegan keeled over. The effort made her stomach churn. Sam placed a steadying hand on her back; and though he was only trying to help, she flinched away.

  ‘Some ice chips, Declan, please.’ Liana sounded completely unruffled.

  A cup was thrust under her nose. Raegan’s fingers felt nerveless and clumsy but she managed to scoop out a few chips and sucked on them gratefully. ‘Thank you,’ she croaked.

  ‘Raegan.’ Liana was kneeling in front of her, her beautiful white light glowing through the still-hazy air at Raegan’s eye-level.

  She managed to raise her head. ‘I’m ok.’

  ‘I know.’ Liana nodded. ‘It has not happened to me for so long, but I remember how bad it feels. To be locked in against your will-’

  ‘Locked in?’

  ‘When your heartbeat is connected to another; locked, as it were, to that heartbeat. If achieved forcibly, your bpm is subordinated. It can be a vicious form of attack. And it is one the Fay use.’

  Raegan gasped. ‘They- how? They’re not…?’

  ‘Though their time is stolen, Raegan, they can manipulate it in much the same way as us,’ Liana reminded her gently. ‘Slowing down your clock is a very personal experience; if you traverse, you exist in your own time continuum. It provides you with an easy method of escape. They do not want this. It can also work the other way round. We do not want the Fay to simply traverse- if they do so, they can disappear in what seems like the blink of an eye. Locking into their heartbeart can be the only way for us to stop them.’

  ‘But they can do it – that - to us?’

  ‘They can try. Eye contact is usually essential to establish first contact, but they have other methods. This is one of the main reasons for the Brain discipline; to give you the mental fortitude to fend off their attempts.’

  Liana got to her feet. ‘But as you can see it usually takes a great deal of effort to ‘lock in’ with someone. It therefore tends to be only the elder, more skilled Fay who even attempt this most aggressive tactic. Would you agree, Sam?’

  Sam, who had been staring into space, nodded. ‘It depends on the Fay and the situation. In my experience, though, you’ll traverse at the beginning – that’s part of the chase. If you’re really going to fight, most Fay tend to traverse as far as they can, slowing time to their maximum point. You won’t lock in, you need to be
in common time for that; you’ll just try and mimic their efforts, so that you’re both traversing. You’re not exactly in the same time-space, but it’s close… and that way neither side has that advantage.’

  ‘And then what? We use our fists?’ Raegan asked weakly.

  Liana smiled. ‘Correct. Your Body training is crucial here. And in that case, you will be dividing your Heart - holding your clock slow and steady while allowing it as an organ to power your movements; the two parts in one theory we’ve been practising.’

  Declan did not say a word. Raegan was grateful. She was already bruised mentally, if that was possible. Biting sarcasm was not something she could handle right now.

  ‘But there is another question to ask: what happens if you meet a Fay skilled enough to slow down time to a greater degree than yourself? Remember your own limits. You cannot go beyond a certain point, or the clock will drag you down with it – but if you lock in, you can stay with them. You can borrow their power; and they cannot shake you off. If they jump to a different time plane they will only bring you with them. And so, we practice.’

  With that, Liana’s voice became almost peppy. ‘Time to go again! On your feet, everyone. There’s still two hours of our session left, and we must use this wisely.’

  By now, Raegan was almost used to the sparkling, cloth-like air and random scattering of dark and light spots within it. She was even almost used to looking down at the burning sun within her chest. What she could not believe, though, was that the thing was still glowing as brightly as ever. Her power-centre was a traitor; on it shone, telling, no, shouting to Liana that Raegan was okay, when in reality her power wasn’t helping at all. Hadn’t helped her at all. She felt like a rag doll that had been tossed around and clawed by a bunch of wild dogs.

  But she had no choice. Painfully, her knees protesting, Raegan dragged herself up and shuffled into position. It was going to be a long two hours.

  ***

  The remainder of the lesson was relentlessly draining. When it was finally announced that Declan should have a turn, Raegan had been on her feet for nearly ninety minutes. Knackered, she waited as he took up position, expecting an even harder fight than she’d had with Sam - Declan detested her, after all.

  But it had been easy.

  More than easy; it had been like breathing. She couldn’t describe the sensation as their two beads of light drifted towards each other, almost immediately synchronising with one another; or the strength that seemed to course through her as they connected. Obviously this wasn’t something she could voice out loud, either.

  ‘You see. At times, it is not such a trial.’ Liana’s voice was full of something – satisfaction, perhaps? Trembling from head to toe, unsure if this was an after-effect of the zoning or a sign of how freaked out she felt, Raegan didn’t know where to look. She felt exposed: vulnerable, somehow. She didn’t know if what happened should have; if it was some strange fluke; or if it actually meant something.

  Finally looking up from her feet, she caught Declan’s gaze for the briefest of seconds. The mint-green eyes, usually so cool, were wide with surprise.

  ‘Teamwork!’ Their teacher dismissed them with an enthusiastic flourish. ‘You will often find that your powers do not bow to petty matters of personality. It is not about fondness, but respect. Pick your teammates wisely: work not to your preferences but to your own strengths!’

  Liana was as subtle as a brick. Raegan knew it made sense – but why did her powers have to choose a teammate she couldn’t stand?

  Stumbling, her feet suddenly four sizes too big, she hurried over to the chair where her bag was. Collapsing into it, she took the rucksack in her arms and rested her head against it for a second. The heavy object pressing against her stomach was chunky and oddly comforting. With a pang, she realised how long it had been since she’d hugged someone.

  There was a cough. She was too weary to raise her head more than a few inches.

  Declan was standing there, hesitantly. ‘Can I?’ He gestured to the chair next to her.

  This was getting weirder by the second. It took a few moments for Raegan’s brain to catch up with her mouth. ‘Sure,’ she replied.

  They sat side by side for a while, not speaking, as stiff and awkward as two frozen chickens. Declan thawed first.

  ‘That was kinda wild.’

  The depth of this understatement was enough to shut Raegan’s brain down completely. She couldn’t make small talk at a time like this.

  ‘Come away, o human child, to the waters and the wild,’ she said listlessly.

  He glanced at her. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Yeats.’ She took a slug of water, and then another. It was icily soothing; she hadn’t realised how dry her mouth was. ‘The poet.’

  ‘I know who he is.’

  She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. What was it about Declan that turned her into a little kid?

  Then he surprised her. ‘You should give yourself some credit. You’re doing way better than you think.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘At everything.’ He sounded almost impatient. ‘It took guts to face off against Sam like that. You’ve got power.’

  Taken aback, she tried to make a joke. ‘Or maybe I’m just an idiot.’

  ‘No.’ Declan cut her off. ‘You’ve got what it takes. You need to believe that.’

  Quickly, Raegan turned her head, prepared to get up and leave if he was taking the piss. But his face was serious; earnest, even.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said quietly.

  The silence that fell was nearly comfortable.

  Then he shifted, and she turned to him in almost the same instant.

  ‘Raegan,’ his voice was low, urgent. In that second, she knew – just knew – that he felt the same as she did; what had just happened had shaken him to the core. The mess between them could be forgotten. If he would just apologise, they could turn a corner; they could work together, at last -

  ‘Hey, there you are.’ Sam interrupted loudly, looking at Raegan as if he had been waiting eagerly to speak to her all night. He reached down for her backpack, which had slid to the floor, looking up at her winningly through the sandy tendrils falling in front of his eyes. ‘Walk you to your room? It’d be nice to catch up.’

  Then it was like he finally noticed Declan. He stopped awkwardly. ‘Unless – sorry mate, was I interrupting something?’

  ‘Yes,’ Declan said shortly.

  Sam looked crestfallen. ‘Sorry, my mistake.’

  ‘We were just talking,’ Raegan blurted, before he could leave. What was going on? It felt like Declan was going to say something important before Sam butted in, but there was no need to make a big deal out of it. Besides, why should she invest anything in her conversation with Declan, after everything that had happened? Was she mental?

  She made a split-second decision and got up, smiling brightly at Sam. ‘I’m ready – pretty exhausted after all that, actually.’ Anxious to hold on to the fragile truce that had sprung up between them, she turned to Declan. ‘Good. To talk, I mean. See you.’

  Declan nodded but did not hold her gaze. With a burst of impatience, Sam strode off, leaving her to trail awkwardly behind. When they reached the door, he held it open, grinning brightly; but she couldn’t shake the sensation that the warmth in the air had evaporated.

  The night was dark and cool, and every so often a gentle raindrop tickled Raegan’s skin as they walked. She was glad to be out of that room – what with destiny and the Fay and Declan and Sam it had felt a little like living inside a pressure-cooker. But at the same time it didn’t feel like much of an escape. She felt pushed and pulled in different directions. Why did she jump at the click of Sam’s fingers? All the weeks of waiting and now she was too confused to enjoy being with him. She also couldn’t help but wonder if she had just been played. Was Sam only interested because he saw her talking to Declan?

  Suddenly she wanted to be far away from both of them.

  ‘What’s up?’ Sam
asked, when she stopped dead at a fork in the path.

  ‘Uh, nothing,’ she lied, ducking her head. ‘You know what, I remember I was meant to see Bree, and this is her turning, so I’ll head off here. Thanks for walking me.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ he offered.

  ‘That’s okay.’ She could feel her face turning red. ‘She wasn’t f-feeling all that well, actually, so it’d probably be better if it was just me.’

  Sam tilted his head quizzically. ‘Oh. She was fine earlier.’

  ‘Yeah, you know- women’s stuff.’ Raegan cringed inwardly. It was the one excuse guaranteed to gross out the males of planet Earth, but it was a cheap trick.

  Sure enough, Sam backed off pretty quickly after that. ‘Say no more. Will leave you to it.’ He handed over her backpack. Their fingers touched, and she leapt away, as if the contact meant that he could read between the lies.

  ‘Thanks. See you, then.’ Head down, she scooted off. Sam got under her skin; around him, she felt off-centre, nervous, full of energy. It was a lot to handle. Was that the real motivation for her lame excuse?

  It wasn’t a total lie, Raegan reminded herself. She did want to see Bree. Now, more than ever, she was in need of her friend’s cool wisdom and down to earth attitude about all things Regent. If anyone could set her mind at ease about the locking-in class, it was Bree.

  She charged up the corridor to her friend’s room and knocked impatiently. As if in reply the door flew open quickly and with some ferocity.

  The first thing that struck Raegan – hardly an eco-warrior – was how much energy was being wasted in the small room, which appeared to have all lights on, loud country music blaring out, and the heating turned up full blast. The second striking thing was that Bree was not standing before her.

  Instead she was confronted by a diminutive blonde wearing not nearly enough clothing. That explained the heat.

  Raegan hesitated.

  The girl put a hand on her rounded hip, just covered by a pair of denim hotpants. ‘Well?’ she demanded.

  For a moment, Raegan wondered if she’d managed to knock on the wrong door. ‘I’m looking for Bree.’