Ace calmed down enough to concentrate on Gentleman’s words. Getting this information was part of the reason why they’d come to Paris, Sarina knew.
“When Data wasn’t wasting time on foolish ideas, he collected and analyzed information. He has a knack for analyzing data, you know.” The man’s lips twisted into a semblance of a cheerful grin. “The Covenant’s theory is not entirely false, but it grasps the wrong angle.”
“You’re talking about feedback theory here, right?” Ace broke in.
The power feedback theory? Sarina suddenly perked up. Finally they were talking about something she knew a little about.
Gentleman hardened his lips. “Yes, of course, I’m talking about feedback theory. And on that subject, Data has come to the conclusion that if the post-Pulse world were a game of chess—one where the Evolved represented the pieces—then every time a piece was removed from the board, it would eventually get tossed back onto the board. Not exactly in the same form, but similar. Possibly stronger, or as a surge. Like when a pawn is killed, it returns as a knight. Or when a rook is killed, it eventually becomes…”
“A queen,” Jasper finished for him, barely breathing the word.
Gentleman clacked his tongue approvingly. For some reason, he gave Sarina a long look across the table.
Why is he looking at me? The scrutiny made her uncomfortable. Her range was off the charts, sure, but she couldn’t even activate her powers without Jasper’s intervention.
“Have you ever wondered why the number of individuals assigned to a particular power classification remain fairly constant?” Gentleman went on, tilting his head inquisitively.
Sarina held her breath until the masked man’s attention veered away from her. All she knew about feedback theory was what David had told her: powers were all somehow connected, and any living individual whose powers had surged would continue to feed large amounts of energy into that shared grid which would increase the likelihood of more surges in the future.
“How do we know the power feedback theory is right?” Raven challenged. “There are lots of theories out there.”
“Data does not lie,” Gentleman answered in an even tone.
“So the Covenant kills someone, then someone else transitions or surges, oui?” Eve asked, her velvety voice betraying an underlying darkness. She sounded eager, almost.
Gentleman nodded. “Methinks that is correct.”
“Can’t deny it kinda fits with what we see happening in the world,” Ace agreed. “None of the execution orders on power-surged Evolved did any good. We got Monsoon after Shadowslasher, right? And we had riots and chaos everywhere after Shanti died.”
Saint just sat there, contemplating his folded hands. He hadn’t said anything throughout the conversation.
“We will unofficially endorse the feedback theory,” the Sun King declared with regal dignity. “And we are agreed that we do not want Samael leading the Covenant. Now, on to other concerns.” He looked to his left, where Colosso feverishly scribbled notes onto a notepad. “Why has the Oracle been withdrawn to an unknown location? The press is no longer permitted to witness her prophecies, but I am not aware of why. Gentleman?”
The masked man shook his head. “I regret to disappoint you this time, dear Louis, but I don’t know. All I’ve heard are mere rumors. Although those rumors suggest an unpleasant future. Perhaps the existence of the Antithesis.”
Sarina read about the Antithesis, though the bits and pieces she gathered from memory were related to Shanti, the Healer. There were whispers going around that the Healer had an Antithesis—an anathema, a contrary force which was just as strong, though working for opposite ends. The ultimate destroyer.
Just thinking about it sent a chill down Sarina’s spine. Fortunately, it was just a theory based on some of the Oracle’s unproven prophecies.
“We’ll want to ensure the cooperation of a Guardian or two,” the Sun King urged, looking down the length of the table at Saint.
“I am little more than a bodyguard,” the bald man said with accented English. “It’s Sanctuary you’ll want.”
The Israeli guy? Sarina knew a bit about Sanctuary. His power involved a peace aura which prevented any and all aggressive action in its range.
“We want Sanctuary,” the Sun King confirmed. “But so does the State of Israel and everyone else. He has declared himself the Oracle’s personal guardian, oui?” Another inquiring glance, this time directed at Gentleman.
Gentleman gave a single nod of his masked face.
“We want Sanctuary and the Oracle,” the Sun King mused, his gaze fixed on the ornamental ceiling. “But where are they?” His voice sounded distant, as if he was daydreaming, before he crashed back to reality. “I suppose the UNEOA would know exactly where to find them.”
“What about the American runner?” Raven broke in. “Everything on the news about her screams Guardian to me.”
“Ah, the feisty girl.” Gentleman sniffled. “Powerful. Stubborn. I observed her interaction with the Golem, and it was marvelous.” The visible half of his face contorted into a theatrical display of regret. “I might have acquired her, but the situation did not allow it.”
Sarina knew they must be talking about Mascot, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she had been acquired herself. There was something about the word that didn’t sit right with her. In fact, it ignited a spark of anger she didn’t know she held inside. She looked over at Jasper, and noticed that he was frowning at the word choice. Apparently he didn’t much like what he heard, either.
Down at the other end of the table, the little princess’s hands were transforming more and more paper napkins into a small army of winged creatures. There was something serene about the way she arranged them on the table around herself. When she looked up, she met Sarina’s gaze and smiled.
“The American girl is out of reach then?” the Sun King asked, eyeing the large ring which adorned one of his fingers.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the Wardens will keep her close to them.”
The Sun King tapped the edge of the table with his ringed finger as he considered the American girl. Then, as though his train of thought had taken a turn, his attention refocused on Sarina. “What do you think, chérie? Do you have any questions? There is no need to be shy. You are among friends. Ask anything you like.”
The sudden shift in attention surprised her, though she couldn’t deny that she was teeming with questions. “Anything?” she repeated.
“Anything.” The Sun King addressed her with so much warmth that she almost believed him.
She took a deep breath, working up the confidence to voice her utmost concern. Saint’s presence gave her some optimism, at least. She didn’t know what to make of these other motley people, but he was a true hero.
“What proof is there that the Covenant wants to kill me?” She blurted.
The Sun King didn’t look surprised by the question. “So you’ve heard about that, have you?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
The Lightshaper cast a glance down the length of table. “What proof is there, Gentleman?”
The addressed rubbed his chin. “Your name is on the list of high-risk candidates stored on the Covenant’s computers. Near the top, as I remember. Still unapproved last I was aware, but that may change at any moment.”
Sarina’s stomach fell. His story meshed with what the Nameless told her yesterday morning. Still, she had to be sure. “Can I see it?” she challenged.
“Unfortunately, no,” Gentleman returned. “No one instructed me to bring it. Perchance next time?”
“There you have it,” the Sun King concluded. “Anything more you would like to know?”
Sarina sucked in her breath. There was a lot more she’d like to know.
“Did you ask Ace to ‘acquire’ me and DJ?”
“Your British friend volunteered,” the Sun King was quick to point out.
She was glad to hear that Jasper wasn’t there on false p
retenses. “And what about me?”
“What can I say? I am a sworn shepherd of beauty,” the Sun King admitted with a wink to Gentleman.
“Beauty has nothing to do with it, and you know it,” Sarina replied. Before her courage faltered she asked, “It’s because my power is different, isn’t it?”
At the far end of the table, Raven pressed his knuckles to his mouth to muffle his snicker. The resulting sound was impish rather than cheerful, as if he had been the first to grasp the punch line of an inside joke.
The Sun King ignored him. “Naturellement. Your powers are intriguing, chérie. If your performance during your transition is sign of consistent potential, then we may be able to harness it to undo injustice. Any more questions before you show us a sample of your magic?”
Sarina had hoped that the big announcement about Radiant would have been enough excitement for the day, but apparently that was just wishful thinking on her part. Her courage subsided, overtaken by fear. “Will the Covenant find me here?” She gestured to the house around her. “Surely they know where you live, and if they figure out I’m with you…”
“Ah, my dear, think about it. I’m a Lightshaper, non? If I so choose, I can keep my home out of certain people’s sight. Out of most people’s sight, to be precise.” He moved a finger in front of his eyes for emphasis, then lowered it. “And Monsieur le Président is no friend of the UNEOA or the Covenant. As long as I remain a harmless citizen of Paris, we have an agreement. So no, you are not at risk of being discovered here.”
And you think that agreement still holds? Sarina wondered, remembering the riots in the street, but she kept that thought to herself.
“Now, chérie, will you do us the honor of a dance?” the Sun King gestured at a slightly elevated section of the room which had been cleared of all furniture. “Ciro will adjust his nullification field for your stage. Do whatever you like on it, but, please, refrain from teleporting anyone here. Doing so would needlessly complicate things.”
Not sure of how to get out of it, Sarina slowly got to her feet. She didn’t want to displease her host or his powerful friends. It appeared as though they were the only ones who stood between her and the Covenant’s hit list. Still, she wasn’t sure if she should trust them. What if I just pretended to conjure up my powers, and then claimed that nothing happened? But no, she couldn’t. With all the superpowers in the room, someone was bound to catch on.
Sarina looked to Jasper for guidance, but Ace was already speaking to him. “DJ, give her your player with one of your tracks,” the Aussie commanded.
Jasper hesitated for a moment before digging through his pockets to retrieve his MP3 player with the attached earphones, touching the controls a few times before passing the device to Sarina. When their hands touched, their eyes met in wordless agreement.
We’re in this together.
She knew that no matter what, she would have his back, and she had a feeling he would say the same.
“Just press play when you’re ready,” Jasper told her, dropping the tiny player into her palm.
“Please, do give it your best try,” the Sun King purred. “Ciro would notice if you hold back.”
Okay, definitely no pretending.
Sarina drew in a breath, then made her way to the stage area. As she slipped the earphones into her ears, she realized that she had forgotten to put on her dance shoes when she rushed to get dressed. But it was too late to do anything about it now.
As she took her position on the stage, she noted the dwarf stood close at hand to restrict her powers to a small area. At least I won’t get totally out of control, she thought. She was quite sure the Sun King would take offense if she changed his decor.
Sarina turned to face the table, focusing her eyes on a point just beneath the ceiling. She pressed the play button before slipping the player into the neckline of her shirt. The song kicked off with a few lines of rap intersected with electronic staccato beats. She was glad to hear hip-hop, not some crazy experimental birdsong composition. Once she began, she jerked one shoulder up as she swept a flexed knee to the side at the next electronic intersection. When the beat came to life again a few seconds later, she rolled her upper body in time with it. When the beat developed into a full rhythm, her shoes twisted and glided across the makeshift dance floor.
Watch me now, I’m a lady dancer.
Now that she’d eased into the flow of movement, her nerves calmed and everything went into the flow as dictated by the music. She opened the dance with a series of swift changes in position and posture, aligning her knees and elbows in time with the beat. As the pace picked up even more, Sarina twisted her body into more and more complex moves.
They’re watching me. Judging me.
The thought resonated in her mind while triggering something else. Some part of her broke free and floated to the surface of her consciousness, filling her up with an overwhelming sense of power vibrating throughout every fiber of her being. In seconds, that sense of power took on an angry edge.
You made me step up here so you could gape at my power, she seethed as she pushed her body even harder. Well, screw you. I’m dancing for myself today.
As the furious presence washed over her, it infused her body with a potential for change. Reality became a trivial little thing, permeated and reshaped by the force of her will. Unlike the last time she’d risen to this kind of elevated state, on the Maag stage, the range of her power was limited to a small area around the stage, fenced in.
They’re holding me back. The damn midget’s power was messing with hers. Still, she savored every moment as she always did when she was taken up by the music. She delighted in the perfection of her movements, in the way the rhythm made her blood sing through her veins.
I. Am. Here.
With the final beat, Dancer unfurled her body and slid off the stage in one smooth movement, her chin held high. She approached the Sun King’s chair, looking down on him with a narrowed gaze.
Powerful. Confident.
“Happy? Did you see what you fucking wanted to see, you egotistical freak?” she asked, her voice angry and cold.
He eyed her intently, assessing. A fading part of her noted, with some satisfaction, that he looked a little less sure of himself than a few moments ago.
And just like that, the confident presence was gone. Sarina felt small again, insignificant. She remembered every moment of her performance, and every word she just said, but it all felt so distant. Strangely disconnected from her, like something she might have done in a dream. Or while stoned. Actually, even though she hadn’t done anything unusual with her power, she felt it had intoxicated her somehow. Had made her do things she normally wouldn’t do. Like back when she was fifteen and got into a fight with another girl after sniffing coke at her ex-boyfriend’s place.
“The dance was magnifique,” the Sun King said, interrupting her thoughts. “And your personality transformation, very interesting. But…” he trailed off, looking over at the dwarf. “Your power did not change anything apart from your … how shall we say, attitude?”
The dwarf drew his bushy eyebrows together. He didn’t disagree.
Why do my powers have to be so touchy? She wondered, unsure why nothing around her had changed. Maybe Jasper had given her a weak track or something. Get a grip, Sara, she scolded herself. It was her responsibility to figure out her own powers.
Looking at the Sun King, Sarina was suddenly filled with regret. Why did I confront him? He could kick me out. She considered apologizing, but that would mean drawing even more attention to herself when all she wanted was for everyone to stop looking at her. Even though nothing special had happened, she knew she’d danced well. She couldn’t help but glance around at the faces of her audience as she shuffled back to her chair.
Gentleman’s masked face was impossible to read. Ace’s group looked genuinely impressed with her dance, especially Sunny, whose mouth was left hanging open. Jasper was smiling at her, but in a distant, absentminded w
ay. At the other end of the table, Eve had a small pout on her lips and only glanced briefly in her direction. Raven followed every one of her movements with a look she knew only too well—and she hoped that it wouldn’t became a problem.
The Sun King interrupted before she could get settled in her chair. “Dancer, how about you get some fresh air in my garden? You must feel exhausted after that impressive artistic performance.” His tone was amiable as usual, but something darker was heard between the words.
It wasn’t a request.
He’s annoyed that they brought me here for nothing, Sarina thought, not nearly as relieved as she thought she would be at the prospect of showing off her ineffective powers. Sure, she had felt them—but that was all. Big whoop. Now she wanted to kick herself for her rude remark, or, sink into the floor and disappear.
“I’ll go with her,” Jasper said, pushing out his chair.
“That’s a good idea,” Ace agreed, almost too quickly. “Keep the girl company. We’ll call you back in later.”
Sarina made her way to the door without protest. Jasper didn’t waste a moment in getting to his feet. They crossed the foyer side by side, neither of them saying a word until the heavy front door clicked shut behind them.
“Do you think it’s a bad sign that they want to talk without us?” Sarina asked, heading near a cluster of trees that adorned the mansion grounds.
“I don’t think so,” Jasper replied, sounding much calmer than she felt. “If we can keep ourselves from getting in too deep with Gentleman’s crew, it’ll be less trouble if we ever want to leave.”
So she hadn’t been wrong. Jasper wasn’t comfortable with this situation, either.
“But aren’t the Nameless your friends?”
Jasper nodded. “They are, but I’m glad we’re on the road. Going someplace, doing something that feels right to me, you know? I don’t want to be kept locked away until some office workers decide they want to see us bend spoons.” His eyes sparkled with a hint of British humor.
Sarina couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s how I feel about it, too. But…” She lowered her voice. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”
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