by Emme DeWitt
Had I even stopped to decide I would help?
I wished I had Noah around to bounce ideas off of.
Even our brief time together at Windermere had been a godsend. Noah’s logic weighed options against each other with facts and practicalities. Some might say she was cold, not taking emotions into account, but the distance she helped me build let me make better decisions. Before my Elevation had manifested, I could pride myself on solid common sense decisions. I could manage myself quite well in the world from an early age. Once the emotions came crashing into me at all sides, that part of me had been lost. Common sense didn’t seem so common with so many new variables introduced.
Only a few months without Noah and I was back under the waterline.
I pinched my thigh, bringing my mind back from another needless thought tangent. I needed to focus.
What really needed to happen was a secluded place, like Switzerland or the Library of Congress. I needed to exist in a vacuum where no one was trying to acquire me and no one was threatening in-patient treatment. The Navratil mansion had been as close to that as I could get, but the problems I had abandoned along with my phone and the car in the snowy ditch had come back. They too needed to be sorted neatly and put in their places behind doors. Some of them more heavily barricaded than others. I would come back to those later.
So what were we going to do?
Aleks was right. The wake was likely a trap. It was an excellent trap considering I had no way to avoid it unless I was sedated or in shackles. The need to say my goodbyes to Abuela and grieve with my family far exceeded any concerns I had for my personal safety. Aleks had been right to point that out, but it didn’t change my decision.
I was going. I let out a long, intense breath.
Aleks. Brendan. That was a whole other mess.
On both sides, I could feel they were doing what they felt was best for me. Between Aleks’ inky barrier and my promise to not snoop in Brendan’s mind, I didn’t know as much as I wanted to. Was this a serious enough concern for me to break my promise? If I breached Brendan’s mind, the trust we had built from childhood would be destroyed. The weight of that decision caused me to sigh again.
“Is that helping, or are you just messing around?” Eli’s voice said from my right.
I jumped an inch off the floor. My eyes locked on hers. She sat looming in a chair pulled out from the dining table. With her elbows resting on her knees, she looked almost casual. Her aura screamed in tightly wound agitation, so at least I knew her façade was just an extended poker face.
Eli was ready to launch at any moment.
“When did you get here?” I didn’t bother to ask how.
“About ten minutes ago. Your boyfriend was driving me up the wall, and he just couldn’t believe me that you were just sitting inside the room, completely unharmed. Niko deposited me to keep an eye on you. But I could have broken in if I wanted to.” Eli leaned back in her chair. “Are you almost done, or am I going to listen to you sigh all day?”
“I was processing,” I replied.
“It must be nice to have that luxury,” Eli said.
The words swiped at me like a cat’s paw. Even with my carefully barricaded thoughts, I could feel Eli’s envy attacking me with force.
“Do you want to do this right now?” I asked in a flat tone. I didn’t even have enough energy to add snark. “You were much lower down on my priority list than whether or not I was walking into an ambush, but no, it’s fine. We can do this right now.”
I turned my body to face her directly.
“Have at it,” I said, letting my arms rest comfortably on my crossed legs. My chest was open and confident, so even though I was seated, the power posturing could not be misunderstood. I was ready for whatever Eli needed to launch at me to get over her little fit. I was over trying to dodge her barbs and her unreliable aid. Apathy was a great temporary shield.
“Seriously?” Eli replied, her laugh ringing through the dining room. “You think you matter enough to me for me to have a problem with you.”
“You’re wasting your hot air on an empath,” I said. “Do you want me to catalog your current feelings for you? I can even give you specifics on percentages of energy you are putting into them. You’ve got quite an array of colors going on. I’m sure I could find some really dirty details to air if you need supporting evidence.”
“Well, aren’t you the princess?” Eli shot back. “One peek behind the curtain and you think you know me.”
“So it is about Aleks,” I said, recalling the memory I had brought up with her first encounter with the Navratil boss.
Eli’s aura flared red before returning to a vibrant green.
“You may have him fooled, but you don’t fool me. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, yet you insist on meddling around with plans that we have built up for months,” Eli said. “You’re going to ruin everything.”
“You’re nuts if you think I asked for any of this,” I said, holding Eli’s intense glare. My throat was warming, but I held back the venom. I already knocked one person unconscious this morning. Body counts this high before breakfast were inadvisable.
“Well, here you are,” Eli replied. Her mouth twisted from her sour words.
The amount of negative energy floating around her perplexed me. How could so much anger and pain exist in one person and still have that person be able to function? As unstable as I felt I was, at least I was aware. Eli seemed oblivious to the danger.
“Then tell me exactly what I’m ruining,” I said, “because honestly, I have no idea what I could possible impact by just existing.”
“I can’t even trust you enough to explain what’s going on,” Eli said. “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to the other side in minutes. I’ll probably never see you again, so all I have to do is wait for you to burn them down from the inside.”
“How kind of you,” I muttered. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Within one intake of breath, I had reinforced the barriers between me and Eli’s poisonous aura. My eyes were closed, but I heard Niko’s distinctive pop.
“What did I miss?”
“Apparently, I’m the new and improved pyrotechnic Trojan horse,” I mumbled through my hand. “Eli was just wishing me well on my latest mission.”
“Oh,” Niko said.
I could see a slight blue overlay of curiosity in his aura, and I wondered if he was able to play around with his aura colors. Niko was the only person in recent months who did my barricading for me. He kept all his emotions close enough to his chest that his aura was barely a shimmer of colors. Somehow, that flicker of blue reminded me of his silent shoulder-hunching chuckle.
“Are you laughing at me?” I asked, turning to look at him.
His eyes opened a little wider. Such a minimal difference read as shock for the stoic teleporter.
“Nevermind,” I said, my hand in the air between us. “I was attempting to sort through this huge clusterfuck of a situation when Eli unloaded her nonsense onto me. I don’t need another what if from you.”
Eli’s eyes darted between us, slightly off put that her rage was being so easily dismissed.
“Actually, no, now this is going to bug me,” I backtracked. I leaned back on an arm, catching Niko’s gaze. “Can you manipulate your aura on your own? Or is it unintentional?”
“What’s she talking about?” Eli asked Niko. “She keeps babbling about colors.”
“You should really pay more attention when Birdie tells stories,” Niko said to Eli, an edge of reprimand to his tone. “How else are you supposed to learn about all the other Elevated manifestations? And most of them are funny.”
Eli grumbled to herself.
“So you do know what you’re doing,” I said, my eyes squinting into slits. “I don’t know if I like that.”
“I have had some training in mental barriers. It is helpful when encountering Elevated on the sentient plane,” Niko said, offering another shrug.
“That’s wh
y you’re so quiet,” I said. “Not that you’re loud normally or anything.”
Niko grinned.
“Don’t compliment him,” Eli barked. “He won’t shut up about practicing if you do that.”
“See? It is useful,” Niko said, his eyes weighing heavily on Eli.
“How many others do you think can do what you do?” I asked. Now my curiosity was hooked. While it should have occurred to me long ago, I never thought about people manipulating the information I was reading from their aura. Quentin had learned to project, but in terms of his emotions, he was still as bright as twinkling Christmas lights in the dark. Adair had taken me by surprise by completely cloaking himself.
He didn’t count though. His Elevation was on the sentient plane.
“Not sure,” Niko said. “If an Elevated person learns, I’m sure they can shield themselves better than most. Plain humans? I don’t know that they could do it consciously.”
“I do not need another snag in the fabric of my being right now,” I growled, burying my face in my hands.
“You’re doing better than any empath I’ve ever heard of,” Eli said suddenly.
I jerked my face upright so fast that a zing of pain shot down my neck.
“What did you say?”
Eli’s face colored.
“From the stories.” Eli cleared her throat awkwardly. She looked at Niko. “You didn’t tell her?”
I looked intently at Niko.
In all my spare time, I heard in my head.
My eyes bulged.
“Niko!”
His eyes slid to mine.
“Did you do that on purpose? Don’t change the subject!” I said, hitting the carpet in agitation.
“What?” Eli asked.
“I think Evangeline heard me,” Niko said.
Eli’s face crumpled into a series of confused frowns. Then Niko tapped his temple. His head was cocked slightly to the side.
“Can you not send her back over the edge? Do you know how much sighing I had to sit through before you got here?” Eli replied. “If she talks about another color, I’m going to think she’s really cracked wide open.”
A warm pool of anger boiled beneath the surface of my mind.
I was so far beyond information overload.
“It is impolite to do that without asking permission,” I said pointedly at Niko, my voice loud and pinched. “It’s like walking in before knocking.”
“She’s got rules,” Eli said, trying to hold in a giggle. Finally, some of the darker aura layers were broken up with joy. “Maybe I will practice some more.”
Glad I could be of help, I growled inside my head.
“That is the extent, that I know of,” Niko said, bowing his head in apology. “I didn’t mean any offense.”
I glared at him, my anger still licking at the corners of my mind. He held my gaze, and I could feel his sincerity, which only made me angrier.
And I could also feel his mind pressing against mine. Without realizing it, I had begun to probe around his mind, trying to figure out what else he wasn’t telling me.
“Knocking works both ways,” was all he said.
“Sorry,” I let out with a sigh. I rubbed my face in agitation. “Can you just be honest with me? I can’t handle any more unknowns right now.”
“Let’s just say that my family is as large and gifted as yours,” Niko said. “When this has all been resolved, remind me to tell you more about it. You’ll need firsthand sources for your research anyway.”
“Ha! Research,” I said. My fingers traced the patterned carpet idly. “I just wish I could hide in the library and never come out again.”
“Nah,” Eli said. “That’s not true. You need to go say your goodbyes. You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.”
My fingers stilled. I glanced up, finding a dusty coating of regret around Eli. It was there only briefly, probably as she recalled a memory. It broke apart within seconds, and her multi-faceted colors flared back up again.
I abandoned the hope I would be fully pulled together before heading off to Abuela’s wake. Whatever work I had completed would have to suffice. Every new realization was a distraction, and it was silly to drag my feet and go down rabbit holes chasing currently irrelevant information. I was coming back anyway. When I did, you bet I would be grilling everyone until every last secret was squeezed out of them.
“You’ll come find me, right?”
I was starting to doubt the speed with which I would return.
“Yeah, I guess,” Eli sighed. Niko shot her a look, and she rolled her eyes. “Promise.”
I took a deep inhale, and released as much disjointed energy as I could in the exhale.
“Screw it. Let’s go.”
Whoever was the travel agent for the Association had learned I was not to be trusted in cars without heavy supervision.
As I filled empty minutes next to Brendan on the way to the airport, I amused myself with the statuesque features of our two “chauffeurs,” who filled up the entirety of the front bench of the luxury old model black sedan, and their deep inner lives. Their shoulders almost brushed in the small space, and I wondered what exactly they thought those overdeveloped chest pectorals and biceps would do to protect themselves against the likes of Elevated teenagers. Maybe they had not been fully read into the situation.
“Friends of yours?” I said to Brendan, inclining my head toward the two in the front. At least Blue Eyes had some personality buried behind all that bulk. Nothing interesting came back from my lazy foray into either jughead mind, and nothing good to manipulate either.
Brendan glanced up from his phone, taking a break from typing. I had assumed it was texts based on the short bursts, but the screen held a wall of text in a different format. The question of who he could be so intently emailing at a time like this made my stomach drop. My idea to go along with the plan, trusting that Brendan wouldn’t steer me wrong, was beginning to feel like a bigger and bigger mistake the more distance we put between ourselves and the Navratil mansion. I swallowed hard, trying to dampen the bitterness rising from my stomach.
“Mr. Navratil offered to arrange your itinerary once he heard you hadn’t been able to pay your respects yet. It’s his token of appreciation to your family,” Brendan said. The words marched out of his mouth like a computer reading a teleprompter. Most of his energies were still concentrated on the email.
In that moment, I realized I didn’t know Brendan as well anymore. The thought slammed me hard in the chest.
I had no idea what he was doing with the Navratils or so closely tied up in the Association. Beyond his visits to me and his talk of “getting well,” we had no time to talk about his world and what he was up to. And with our previous arrangement, I still felt uneasy poking around his mind, even for something so mundane as his college major. Or his internship.
A shiver streaked down my spine. I pulled my jacket tightly around me against the cold, even though I knew from the heat blasting in the front of the car that the sensory snap wasn’t caused by a poor heating system in the well-maintained car.
Why do you always have to do things your way? I asked myself. Your intuition warned you this was going to be a bad idea. Yet here we are. Are you trying to prove you can still survive doing things on the highest difficulty setting?
“Do you think everyone will be there, or have they all left by now?” I asked out loud as I stared at the variety of greys on the bleak Midwestern highway. I had been curious by what Brendan had said earlier. Had they really put everything on hold? For me?
“People have been coming by the house all week, but the family is still there,” Brendan said, his fingers stilled over the smudged screen.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard.
Don’t overanalyze body posture, I scolded myself. Brendan is your oldest friend. You asked him a question, and he stopped what he was doing to answer you. Plain and simple. Tons of people can’t talk and type at the same time.
I could
feel the stiffness of Brendan’s posture. He was in a suit, which seemed out of place with the easygoing personality with which I was accustomed. This was not us hanging out on the weekends or a school break. This was his internship, so it was only natural for him to wear a suit. This was not the time for track pants and henleys.
My fingers found their way to my favorite pressure point at the corner of my eye and the beginning of the bridge of my nose. I let my hair fall over my face to hide how desperately I was jabbing my thumb into the bone. As the anxiety rose in me from the back and forth about exactly how poor of a choice I had just made by trusting a childhood friend and the seesaw of guilt from doubting a close trusted ally, the blur of a migraine crept into the corners of my mind.
I hadn’t had a migraine since I’d left the Association’s medical facility. With the rollercoaster of medications I’d been on, my body was in a constant state of getting over a migraine or beginning a new one. The mental clarity of the past week hit me, pulling into focus exactly how much and yet how little I had accomplished.
My decisiveness and sporadic actions seemed manic at the Navratil mansion. If I listed it out, I actually had done a lot in such a short time. I imagined it had looked like a wild animal coming to from a harsh sedative. Sure, my processing ability was severely dampened by information overload, and I felt like I was drowning in Elevated riddles, but I was thinking.
A lot.
Looking back on the past few months in the Association’s medical prison, other than my infrequent outbursts, the days blurred together. Nothing monumental could distinguish one day from another and another. I had been on pause for months. The transition to double time speed in just catching up to the present of what was going on had been rough.
But I could not go back. Would not.
In an answering call, the rumble strips of the airport parkway assaulted our silent car. The vibrations jarred my elbow from its perch against the door, and I poked myself in the eyeballs.
“Damnit,” I muttered, exasperated with myself.