“Under you, hundreds have lived in misery,” he hissed as Ignacio realized how young he was, and the plastic pouch that had held the putrid concoction fell to the gravel behind him. “Now, may you die in it.”
He slashed, just as the gates opened up enough for the driver to accelerate through, causing the knife to come short. The tip ripped across Ignacio’s cheek, filling his mouth with blood, and to his greater horror, allowing the milkfish liquid inside. He vomited, the sensation pushing him to the brink of consciousness, a final thought rolling through his mind as they sped away, leaving the two figures behind in the wreckage of his gate.
This driver, I might keep.
Chapter 43
Arial
Chills ran up Arial’s spine despite the heat of the day as the car peeled away, leaving them in a cloud of dust that stuck to her clammy skin, accompanied by the reek of weeks old sardines and anchovies. Matteo had not mentioned the fish, keeping them sealed inside his backpack until the moment right before they struck, then whipping it out as soon as the window broke inwards. But it was the silvery streak of the knife that left behind crimson that caught Arial’s attention as Lolice moaned on the ground, and Matteo the blood on the grass along the curb.
“Stop gawking,” he said, starting to move. “They were Specials, they tried to kill us, and they protected him. They decided their fate, not us. And we need to get out of here, since he escaped. Which means that the police will be on their way. An alarm has likely already been sounded. Stay right behind me.”
Arial fell in line as he darted away, quickly turning into the more convoluted streets farther away from the wealthy side of town as sirens sounded in the distance. His words just before the attack rang in her ears, a set of instructions he had urgently whispered to her.
“Move where I move. Let me go first. I will protect you, but if you move out of line, there is nothing that I can do. Become my shadow.”
And he had—there was something unnatural in the way that he avoided the guard's powers, something that reminded her of the way that Zeke dodged powers in the Amazon. As if he could sense them coming just in time to move out of the way, as if he was a Special himself. A hypocrite, if true, to the highest degree.
She watched him closely as they ran, trying to determine anything else abnormal. Except for his ease at navigating the streets and the near silence at which he ran, there seemed nothing extraordinary.
“Were you actually trying to kill him?” Arial asked as they slowed to merge into the crowd, already a mile from Ignacio’s.
“Arial, you saw who they were. That was a man who did not deserve to live, a man who held zero regard for the lives of others. He needed to be removed, and someone has to wield the knife. Pain doesn’t just change us, it changes society as well. It’s the only way to make a difference.”
“But if you killed him, do you think it would really change anything? Or do you think that they would just try to fight back?”
“It’d get them talking,” he answered. “And it would force the worst ones in hiding out into daylight.”
“Go far enough down that path and you would start a war,” she answered as they reached the street that would leave them back to the hidden bar.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. But we don’t only attack, Arial—we defend too.”
“Like the girl that you were waiting for, Francesca?” she pried.
“In a way. That’s where we must defend our outcome.”
When they reached the bar, Matteo reported out to Divi, who frowned at Ignacio escaping but did not reprimand.
“Perhaps it is just as good he lived,” Divi said. “He’ll speak to this, word will escape, and it will stir fear into the hearts of others. Something that they have never known. And, Arial, how was her performance?”
“A little squeamish, but otherwise well. She didn’t balk or give us away.”
“Good,” intoned Divi. “Those who can be trusted with small responsibilities can be trusted with larger ones. Arial, what did you think? This is the work we do. This is who we are, the fight that we must push onwards. Are you ready to renounce your past and fight for a better future? One that’s not dominated by the blaspheming specials?”
All eyes in the room turned to Arial, and she nodded, letting the lie out naturally now that her curiosity was further piqued about Matteo.
“I am, if you’ll teach me,” she answered.
“Good,” said Divi. “With that attitude, you’ll have your first marks soon. And you’ll learn the true meaning of being marked. Soon, we have another job—a larger one. Prove yourself to us here, Arial. We are your new family. Each of us holds the other up, each of us supports the whole.”
Until you find out I’m a Flier, she thought, but her mouth spoke different words.
“Let me know how to serve, and I’ll be ready.”
“Yes, yes, you will. But first, you must learn the first steps down the path of our enlightenment. You must learn our ways of meditation, of seeking the soul itself. Tonight, that is how you will spend your hours, searching for connection. Matteo, you will help me to instruct, so that tomorrow on our job, she will be even more prepared.”
Chapter 44
Arial
Meditation, Arial leaned, was a group activity. Divi began as soon as dinner was finished.
Extinguishing the light of the cellar and replacing it with incensed candles, Matteo rolled out a mat for each of them, moving the cots aside for the time being and motioning Arial to take the one on the far left side. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Arial could see their shapes, but there was no sort of unity among them. Five in all, each bore their own characteristics and traits. One was shorter than her, another a beanpole so tall, he had to stoop when walking through the bar. She’d assumed from Matteo’s shape that they would all be in good condition, but another boasted a beer gut so large, she doubted he could reach a full sprint. Part of her guessed that they had come from the Litious tribe in the amazon, that they would all be similar to Divi, and he noticed her confusion as they settled on the mats.
“Arial has joined us as one of our own. As I welcomed each of you, you too shall welcome her into the fold,” he said, crossing his legs, his voice the only sound besides the distant murmuring of the bar above and the steady hum of the boiler. “She shares what each of us has in common, our binding factor. She too has been wronged by the abusers of power, she too has the seed of pain that is to come. Speak now, and share your initial first cut.”
Each of them nodded, and the one nearest to Arial spoke first, her voice dead upon the cold cellar stones.
“For ten years, I worked as a maid. For ten years, my employer left scars on me that no one could see, using his microwave powers. When I was pregnant, it took my child, and I took his life.”
The person to her right spoke, a voice of that of an older man, raspy and weary. “They took my memories, all of my memories. I stumbled against a Special on the sidewalk, and now my children are gone, my wife is forgotten, all but wisps in my mind that I cannot grasp. I might walk past them every day, but I wouldn’t know.”
Then the next voice, this from the beer-bellied man, his voice so deep, it sounded like monks chanting. “I lost the sight and hearing on the left side, from an explosion meant as a practical joke. And when I complained, I spent the next three years in jail, working away medical bills that did nothing to heal me.”
And finally from Matteo. “They took my family. My brothers, my sisters, my mother, my father. When we were in a car crash that was their fault, and rather than pay the damages, they torched the car so they could blame it on us. I only escaped because I was thrown from the car when it rolled. I was lucky, lucky to leave with only a broken arm.”
Divi let the silence rest for a moment, then turned to Arial. “It is the pain that defines us, that motivates us forward. And you, Arial, disowned by your own parents for something beyond your control, now share in that pain. With us, it will grow, and you
shall learn the power we have against them. Now as we start meditation, focus on how you have been wronged. Use that as a driving wedge, push it deep within you, gather the emotions of anger and fear. And split your soul from your body, split your consciousness from the pain that holds it to this world.”
Around her, they each closed their eyes, their faces wavering in the flickering candlelight. Arial kept her eyelids cracked, watching through slits. Part of her was tempted to float upwards in meditation, but she quickly dismissed the idea—rather than becoming some sort of prophet to their lunacy, she’d be killed. She found it difficult to stay still, her calf already turning numb from where she sat too hard on it, and their stories making her shift uncomfortably. She was at the core of what they hated, right under their nose, but they simply had yet to realize it. And now she could not feel more out of place, her attention flowing anywhere but inwards, straining not to release a nervous laugh that threatened to escape her like a pent-up sneeze.
But then, she felt it—a shifting. A feeling of more presences around her as the shadows attached to each of the others thickened, seeming to bubble up from the floors and wall. Her heart beat faster as she saw them rise, their own sort of entity, coming with a chill that left goosebumps racing across her skin. Like sentries, they waited, coagulating more and more until they seemed more real than the people who cast them—each growing darker until they reached Matteo’s, whose was second only to Divi’s.
Then Divi released a breath, and with an unknown signal, they fell to the ground like water, splashing back into the crevices of stone, leaving Arial shaken.
These were supposed to be Regulars. People without powers. Not people that Divi had sought out for a certain ability—no, people off the streets. People he had taught from nothing, only with his insane devotion to pain and what she would have dismissed only moments before as voodoo.
And Freja’s words as she died among the Litious returned to her.
You unlocked the cage.
Chapter 45
Arial
Arial hadn’t expected Matteo to scream. But neither had she expected the live electrical wire that Divi held up to his forearm, using him to complete the circuit as two copper leads pressed into his skin. Matteo jerked backwards, biting down on a leather belt he held between his teeth, his eyes wide and wild, the whites shining through the darkness.
“Overcome it!” shouted Divi at him, releasing the leads as Matteo bucked backwards, his head slamming against the wall. But before he could recover, Divi pressed the leads again, and Matteo’s scream turned to a growl of rage. “This is what they do to you! This is who you are to them. Take the pain and overcome it, split yourself away, leave it behind!”
He pulled the prongs away once more, Matteo’s chest heaving. No straps held him to the chair where he sat, his fingers gripped so tight against the wood that Arial thought they might snap. Rather, he sat there of his own accord, a fierce expression on his face as Divi bent forwards with the prongs once more. Matteo brought his arm upwards with determination, meeting the electricity halfway, the veins in his neck standing out as it coursed through him.
But this time, Matteo did not scream, nor did he buck. This time, something seemed to leave him, a glaze passing over his eyes. As if the pain could no longer reach him, that he was beyond it. Even as Divi moved the prongs wider, taking the electricity from Matteo’s left arm to his right, directly across his heart, he gave no response.
“Overcome,” whispered Divi triumphantly, removing the prongs as life returned back to Matteo’s eyes. “That was enough shock to kill a man, certainly enough for your next mark.”
Matteo’s shoulders arced back with pride as Divi produced a long needle, along with bottle of ink. He dipped the metal into the ink once, then motioned for Arial to join him, and she stepped forwards tentatively while keeping a close eye on the copper prongs. He’d left them on the floor, and the device was still plugged directly into the wall. Divi jabbed at the skin above Matteo’s left wrist, leaving dots with the ink, and as Matteo flexed the muscle as darkness flowed between the thin dots as if rising from underneath. Far more darkness than Divi had added ink, and he stopped after adding only a centimeter to the tattoos.
“When we go through pain, we split the body and soul,” Divi told her. “The marks, these are where we pin them apart. Matteo has split himself, has ripped himself away, and it is the natural tenancy for them to flow back together over time. For Matteo is a Regular, and he was born with them fused.
“That is the secret that the Litious discovered, Arial. That essences can be pulled away from the body, through pain and work and concentration. That is what Specials are born with, that is their blasphemy. They have not earned their abilities—no, rather, their essence is split when it enters this world, then tainted by their environment. Just as we are tainted by sin and hedonism, and they are forever stained. The stronger they are, the more that has been pulled away, and the less human they can be. Their soul, literally, is shredded.
“But by wrenching this away later, Matteo is still pure. His essence has not been corrupted—but rather, now that it is separate, is a great spiritual power. You too will learn to split away your essence. You too will discover this great power, piece by piece.”
Matteo was still looking at the new marks on his wrist with adoration when Divi nudged him from his chair. Then he indicated Arial to sit upon it, and she hesitated, looking towards the copper prongs that awaited. She could escape, she knew, if she flew away.
But part of her wondered at this, still wanted to know more. If the Litious had discovered some great power, could she too gain a piece of it? With that power, would she have been able to save Francesca when she couldn’t save Amelia?
“This is the only way, Arial,” Divi prompted. “Should you turn back, I shall not stop you. But you’ll never realize who you were meant to become.”
With a sharp breath, Arial sat, crossing her legs and arms nervously. Divi walked to the other end of the room, taking one of the candles they had burnt during meditation, along with a small table. He placed them before her, then lit the candle, dark smoke streaming away from the flame.
“At first, it will be difficult,” he said, taking her hand and putting it six inches above the flame, so that it was just mildly uncomfortable. “You still know pain as your master, just as you know Specials as your master. You must turn both away. Divide yourself, for while they can conquer your body, they can never conquer your spirit.”
He tapped her hand, pushing it lightly down to five inches, the heat growing sharp. She wrenched it away out of instinct, but he guided it back, placing it back at six inches then gradually lowering it once more.
“Overcome it, Arial. Just as you saw Matteo.” Her hand reached five inches, and she bit her lip, feeling him continue to apply pressure. Then they reached four inches, and her mind shouted at her to pull away.
“Earn your mark. Split,” Divi said, and somehow, his voice seemed louder than the voice of common sense screaming at her to pull away. As Matteo had done, she pushed herself towards the pain, determined to overcome it. And in that moment, her anger for Specials was not false—rather, she thought of her father, and how he had despised her for her power, how she had to learn to overcome his neglect on her own.
The depth decreased to two inches, and her anger flared within her, matching the heat of the fire as her skin blistered. Then it was one inch, and she felt something else. Something similar to when she flew at the very edge of her limit, at her fastest pace, or when launching herself up from the ground. Something that she now understood, after Divi had explained it to her.
A splitting, where her essence met body. Not a clean split as he had stated for Matteo—but one that was splintered, like how he had described for Specials. Her power of flight, waiting for her to access.
But she moved past it, reluctant to touch that ability, instead reaching out to another part of her, the other edge where the splinters could not reach. Somewher
e, she knew, had she been high powered they would have extended. And ever so gently, carefully as the flesh on her hand started to burn, she pushed her essence apart. Just a fraction, it yielded, right as her hand reached the base of the flame, extinguishing the candle into darkness, and Divi spoke from above her.
“Your first mark.”
Chapter 46
Arial
“We need you today, Arial,” Divi said as the group roused in the early morning. Arial had spent the night in the boiler room once again, but Divi had not given the command to raise the heat again yet.
“You’re learning fast,” Matteo had said the night before, unspooling a bandage wrap and painting the inside with antibiotics. “Faster than I would expect. Often, it takes three attempts for someone to reach their essence. Less for those who have experienced greater pain.”
Or less for those who have used it every day in their power, Arial thought. But instead, she spoke the words she knew he would want to hear, spinning out the lie.
“I’ve been there before. On particularly bad days with my father, the ones where he made me sleep outside but let the dog inside.”
Matteo started to wrap her hand, holding it palm up where the burn had blistered the skin. That scar, Divi had said, was her first mark. One she would remember with pride. His face softened as she winced, and Matteo spoke as he wrapped, using the practiced motion of someone who had performed the action many times before. On his own hand, she wondered, or perhaps on the others? Were there more besides those that were in the cellar now?
“Some advice,” Matteo said, leaning towards her so that his elbows were on his knees. “Tonight, in the boiler room, remember how you overcame the pain earlier. Do the same in there, use it as the gift. It will take years, but one day, you might become as enlightened as Divi, fully marked.”
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