AMANI: Reveal

by Marie, Lydhia

  “The magnetic underground you took with Jeffrey?” I sometimes forgot Xander hadn’t been with us during the trip to England. I sometimes forgot Samera, Gareth, and I had made a deal with Jeffrey in order to save Xander from the Rascals. It seemed like such a long time ago. “I guess the Protectors would find us more easily. They know Michelle’s connection to Jeff.”

  “I see.”

  We fell silent, listening to the waves crashing against the moving boat. Our conversation, however short it’d been, had put me more at ease. I was in no way close to enjoying myself, but at least I didn’t feel in constant danger.

  Our Blue-selves use the sailfish as a means of transportation all the time, so it ought to be safe, I tried to convince myself.

  When wind ceased to bother me, I dared a glance above our interlaced fingers. It was difficult to differentiate the sky from the turquoise sea. Only a few islands here and there reminded me of what solid ground looked like. The stiffness in my neck slowly melted and soon enough, I was able to take a peek at Blue and Mr. Jensen to my left, both sound asleep, their heads facing us. I could not hear any sound, but the way Karl’s mouth was open made me wonder if he was snoring.

  Then my thoughts went to Gareth and how much he would have enjoyed this trip. He would have asked hundreds of questions about everything: what sort of fish could pull a boat, how one could build a strong enough boat made entirely of wood and rope to support five adults, what other types of fish lived under the surface of the ocean in Blue, and so much more! Though I hadn’t known Gareth very long, I missed his enthusiasm and inquiries, his cleverness and thirst for adventure…

  In an abrupt motion, Samera stirred beside me and opened her drowsy eyes, startling my thoughts. “Hey,” she said, though I had to read the word on her lips. She passed a hand in front of her face as if to wake herself up and added on a louder note, “Glad to see you’re still alive. Thought you might have a heart attack when we left the shore.”

  “Why, thanks for looking after me,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “I knew you’d get used to it. Eventually.” Her gaze fell on Xander’s and my handgrip. “I see you’ve found a way to distract yourselves.”

  Embarrassed, I let go of Xander’s reassuring hand and returned to my life-saving rope. I was surprised at how relaxed I felt in doing so. I was indeed getting used to the sensation of flying; my shoulders and back adjusted to this new awareness and my body eased. In an attempt to change the subject, I told Samera I’d just been thinking about how Gareth would have loved to ride this boat. Unfortunately, her reaction wasn’t what I’d expected. Her eyes instantly filled with tears and she looked straight ahead, muttering something to herself too low to make any sense to me.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Shaking her head, she replied, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  But it was obvious something was bothering her. I hadn’t predicted she would cry over Gareth’s conviction to have his memory erased and be sent to another country. And now this? She was too upset for someone who hadn’t known him for more than a month and hadn’t even seemed to like him in the first place. And why keep her feelings to herself? That was against her character.

  “Seriously, Sam, what’s bothering you?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she answered, straightening her back. Her red hair danced around her face, dissimulating her growing sadness, though no tear crossed the edge of her eyelashes.

  “We could try,” Xander said.

  Samera’s head spun to face him. “Not you too? Come on. Won’t you guys leave me to suffer on my own?” She threw one hand in the air in a dramatic gesture.

  Xander’s eyes locked with mine. Somehow we knew we were in agreement with each other. “Nope,” we replied in unison. “Never,” I continued.

  Her forehead moved forward and slightly hit the wood as she exhaled sharply. Then Sam muttered something like “All right,” and looked straight ahead. “I’m scared.”

  Xander and I looked at each other again and frowned, expecting an explanation. “Scared of what?” I asked.

  Annoyed, she groaned. But then I noticed she had a deadpan expression on her face, as if trying to conceal her thoughts. As though she thought I would Sojourn…

  Seconds passed and her features sagged into a frown and, lastly, into sorrow and agony. She wiped her hand across her face in an angry gesture. “I’m scared I won’t ever be as good as my mother!” she exploded. “She is the head of the Protectors, you know. As was my grandfather and his father before that. Being an only child, I will be expected to at least try out for the job. But how could I? How could I run such an important organization when I’m unable to keep my own friends safe?”

  “What are you talking about? You’re not—” Xander voiced.

  “You can’t deny it, you of all people,” Samera interrupted, her face a mix between scarlet and purple. Sam had never cried in front of me, and concealing her emotions right now seemed the hardest thing she’d ever done. “First Amya was in a coma for six months in total. Then you were turned into a Rascal… A Rascal! Under my surveillance! Then Gareth, even after my testimony at his trial, was sent to God knows where and stripped of his memories. And there’s Delilah, who’s now missing! It’s like I can’t help it.

  “I was trained to think of others before myself,” Sam continued. “My mother taught me the importance of being a good ruler and keeping the people I love safe from harm. She said that when I replace her as the leader in New York, I will have many responsibilities, like a mother responsible for her children. But in that case, my children will be the entire populace of the United States! How will I ever be ready for such a burden? I can’t!” She shook her head and fastened her hands to her eyes, pressing hard. “I can never be up to the task, not when I’m incapable of keeping my own friends safe.” Her fingers rested on her closed eyelids. “And that is so dang frustrating!” She leaned her head on her hands.

  We were silent for a moment; neither Xander nor I could find the proper reassuring words. “Oh!” Samera suddenly exclaimed. “And what a great idea it was to leave my family with you and Gareth and fly off to England to save Xander! Because of me, Danny, one of our best bodyguards, will never walk or speak again and my father was almost killed. Killed! Just because I was too stubborn to follow simple instructions. Stay at HQ, Samera, my mother warned. But nooo…”

  “It was my idea to leave, Sam,” I said. “I’m the one who suggested that—”

  “But you were my responsibility!” she snapped, looking directly into my eyes. Her nose was a dark shade of red. Moments later, the realization of her outburst hit her and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. This is not on you. I should have never told you how I feel. It is my responsibility to be obedient and to do as I’m told, not yours.”

  “Stop saying the word responsibility,” I said, more sharply than I had intended. I had never seen Samera so depressed. “Xander and I aren’t your responsibilities. You just turned nineteen last summer—and I wasn’t even there to celebrate!” I realized her birthday was last August, when I’d still been in a coma. Too preoccupied by my ability, the possible Third World War, and Xander’s trial, I had completely forgotten to buy her a late present.

  “Anyway,” I continued. “You’re too young to be in charge of anything but yourself and your family must know that. No one is holding you responsible for Danny or anyone else. You have to stop blaming yourself for this because, you know what? Wyatt wants me. Xander was bitten because he tried to save me. Gareth was ordered to bring me to Wyatt. And Delilah was probably kidnapped because of me.” The mere mention of my sister tied a knot in my stomach. “It’s easy to blame yourself, but if you focus on that, you’ll never achieve what a true leader would.” I let this thought linger in her mind.

  “What would that be?”

  “A true leader—one like your mother—wouldn’t think of the past and possible mistakes they might have made. They would put
all their energy into finding a solution.”

  “That’s easier said than done, Amya.”

  “I know. But you’re lucky you have friends who are willing to help you. I’m not in a coma anymore, so that’s that. Xander is still a Rascal, though…”

  “Thank you for the reminder,” he responded, aloof.

  Sam’s eyes grew big, pensive. “And the Protectors want him dead…”

  “Always a pleasure to hear that,” he added.

  “Because they think he’s dangerous,” I said.

  “Rawwwrrrrr,” Xander uttered, his hands imitating claws attacking Samera.

  “Oh, shut up,” my best friend chuckled. Her expression changed again, so fast it was like she’d just put a new mask on. “All right then,” she said, now determined. “I’ll start with your case.”

  “My case?” Xander stiffened.

  Sam’s face lightened. “Yes, your case. I will find out what it is that can kill Rascals.”

  Not entirely convinced this was a good idea, I opened my mouth to say something but Xander was faster. “Wonderful! So you plan on giving the Protectors an easier way to kill me. Why, thanks a lot!”

  “No! You silly! The Protectors are afraid of what they cannot control. Like Rascals, for example. It is scary to know your enemies are indestructible, immortal. If they knew of a way to beat them, fear would dissolve and they would see more clearly. See that you’re harmless and not at all like the others.”

  I was about to tell Samera that her idea was excellent and that we ought to start as soon as we arrived in Sherbrooke, when the boat unexpectedly came to a stop in front of a huge island I hadn’t noticed before, too absorbed into our conversation.

  “That cannot be Canada,” I said.

  It was such a small island. Just like in the Blue version of the U.S, palm trees filled the surface of the earth except for the center of a tall, angular mountain abounding with black spruce trees. A few tree houses were scattered around, linked by the usual braided bridges. The odd thing was that no one seemed to live here.

  “Were are we?”

  Chapter XIII

  Amya Priam

  Apparently, even fish need breaks.

  My Blue-self and Mr. Jensen woke up instantly, tied the boat to the wooden dock, and beckoned us onto solid ground. I was right about at least one thing; all my muscles hurt from the extreme tension I’d imposed on them throughout the trip. Once on the warm white sand, I stretched my arms to the pale orange and purple sky, and then curved my back like a cat. I guessed it didn’t help that my body still hadn’t recovered completely from my excessive drinking with my sister the night before.

  According to Blue, we were close to Canada. After resting, we would head north-east toward Sherbrooke. Karl presumed we were parallel to the Great Sacandaga Lake in Amani.

  The island resembled in every way the one we’d left a few hours ago. Had it really been hours? After a quick look around, though, I noticed that the few tree houses scattered heedlessly next to the one braided bridge seemed to be vacant. Were we alone on this island?

  The sun was slowly crawling down in the ocean, leaving diamond-shaped glitters over a colorful thread of calm waves. I squinted and appreciated the beauty of it while moving my head left to right to stretch the muscles in my neck, careful not to touch my injured shoulder.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked after I gave up on the exercises. Surely I would be aching for several days anyway.

  Blue, who’d been relaxing on the sand since we arrived, looked startled, as if she hadn’t realized we were alone. “They must be looking for berries and mushrooms before nightfall, for insects come out with darkness.” She shuddered and something dreadful passed in front of her eyes. “Insects mostly live in forests; however, some hover over the ocean at twilight.” She gazed up at Karl and then at the sun, slowly drifting west. “I did not realize how late it was and now that I think of it, I don’t recall ever making the trip to Canada in one day. I believe we will not arrive before the sun is down. I suggest we stay the night with a good friend of mine and continue our route tomorrow at dawn.”

  Mr. Jensen took a coop-hole from his pocket and dialed a number. “It depends on whether the Protectors have already tracked us down or not—Michelle?” He then directed his attention to the phone. “We’re maybe halfway—wait, where are you?” He paused, listening with a frown. “You shouldn’t have gone alone. What if something happens to you? I’m too far to—” He shook his head. “No, that is not safe.” He paused and his eyes fell on me. “Wait for me, I have an idea.” He pressed a button and Michelle’s voice was heard.

  “Karl, I had no choice—” she said.

  “You are on speaker now.”

  “Oh, hi everyone. Samera, darling, how is the trip so far? And your leg?” She did not wait for an answer. “There is something all of you should know.”

  “Mom!” Sam interrupted, suddenly excited. She was leaning against Xander’s shoulder, her casted foot hovering over the sand. “I have a question for you. Please tell me you know the exact location of that Hibiscus guy you talked about.”

  Hibiscus? The author of the book on Rascals?

  “Yes, of course. And that is what I need to tell you.” Samera’s eyes lit up. “You are still heading to Sherbrooke, like I wrote on the paper, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I need you to meet with Hibiscus. He told me he works at Bishop’s University. We need to know everything about Rascals if we want to convince the Protectors of Xander’s innocence. I will be doing some research as well tonight.”

  Samera clapped her hands together. “That is precisely what I wanted to ask. Xander, Amya, and I thought it would be helpful to find out how a Rascal can be killed. Maybe this Hibiscus guy knows.”

  Michelle made a pensive noise. “I believe he would have already mentioned it to me, but it is a fine idea. Perhaps he does not want to divulge too much information by email, for fear of being traced. Everything on the Internet leaves a mark…”

  Karl moved the coop-hole closer to his mouth. “Michelle, hear me out.” He turned to me with such hope in his eyes, I felt my feet sink into the warm sand. “My wife, stubborn as she is, has gone all alone to the house of a Rascal—”

  “Mom!” Samera exclaimed. “Why didn’t you bring someone with you? There are dozens of guards at HQ—”

  “There is nothing to be afraid of,” Michelle interrupted. “As I was telling your father, it is Hibiscus who gave me the address of an old friend of his. Hibiscus wrote in the email that he went to college with someone who could feed on people’s dreams. This person—Rascal—is a good one, just like Xander. The Protectors I sent yesterday to this address said that the family living there now had just moved in a couple of years ago but they do not know the name of the owners before them. I am merely going to ask them a few questions, see if they can remember something.”

  “But it could be a trap,” Karl said. “The current owners could be lying. And that is why I think it would be better if Amya used her ability”—he stared me dead in the eyes—“to look after you while you are in the house. Simply to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  Michelle was about to answer, when I said, “Hmm, Mr. Jensen, I would be willing to do anything, really, to help Mrs. Cohen, but I—I have never Sojourned into the body of someone who wasn’t right next to me. Of someone I couldn’t see with my own eyes.”

  During the previous month, Samera and I had worked on my capacity to keep on Sojourning even if someone was talking to me or touching me. We’d never even tried to extend the projection of my soul to someone who was out of my sight. We’d never thought it would be useful.

  I looked up to the four faces staring at me, saw that Karl was about to plead, and immediately added, “But I’d be willing to try.”

  ***

  Michelle finished describing her surroundings—Union Street, Jersey City; rain pouring over her dark blue umbrella; her light raincoat already soaking wet; three
kids and a single mother running down the street to the safety of their home. I pictured all of that and shuddered as a cold breeze brushed my hair off my ears. I could almost smell the moisture of the street and touch the dampness of the umbrella in Michelle’s grip, when I finally saw the familiar purple shape. Seconds later, my soul left my body.

  If Amya is unable to Sojourn, then I’ll need to hurry, for I do not wish to bother the owner of the house too late this evening…

  “I think she’s in,” my husband whispers in the phone, making me shiver.

  It is an odd sensation to know that somebody is inside your head, and yet to feel absolutely normal, unchanged.

  Determined, I tell Karl I will call him after I am done, hang up, and cross the street toward the narrow green house almost completely hidden behind a large oak tree. The fence is open, so I continue my way to the wooden door. At the top of the stairs, I close my umbrella and take a deep breath.

  These people might be reluctant to answer any questions I have about the previous owner of the house, especially since two Protectors just visited them yesterday. But I know by experience that people feel more at ease speaking to a woman than a man. So it’s worth the risk.

  I knock twice on the door and back one step away when I hear dogs barking and running in my direction. Moments later, the door swings open as a woman swears and orders her dogs to back off.

  She is in her thirties, her long brown hair tied in a low ponytail, and she is wearing sweat-pants and a shirt much too big for her. “Yes?” she snaps.

  I clasps my hands together in front of me and begin; “Good evening. My name is Michelle Cohen. I have a few questions for you regarding the people who lived in this house before you—”

  “Let me stop you right there,” the woman says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Two guys came here yesterday and I’m tired of all these questions—”