by Jess Bowen
“Finally,” Ethan muttered. Phoebe glanced at him curiously. “Dorian wouldn’t answer any of our questions while you were asleep,” he explained.
Phoebe nodded and turned back to Dorian as any noise in the room vanished. “Power Shifting is when one person gives up their magic to another person. It’s tricky, though. To give up your power to someone else requires full willingness of self-sacrifice, and you must be giving your power up to serve a greater purpose. It doesn’t necessarily have to be good; it just has to be a greater purpose. Otherwise, it destroys both the giver and receiver.”
“How could evil be a greater purpose?” Jared asked.
Dorian shrugged. “Theories of good and evil can be very subjective, and then when you add to that divine justice, which we can’t even begin to understand, the lines between good and evil can be blurred quite a bit, at least to us. But there always has to be a balance between the two. Without good, how do we define evil, and without evil, how do we define good? However, right now, things are definitely out of balance.”
Hector’s brow knitted together as he thought that over. “So, basically, serving the greater purpose means keeping the balance of good and evil in check?”
“Basically, yes,” Dorian said.
“That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Restoring the balance?” Ethan asked.
Phoebe could hear Dorian’s thoughts. Her talent was coming into sharper focus. “On a universal level, yes. On a personal level, we’re fighting to regain our freedom,” Phoebe answered for him. “It’s all about perspective.”
“How does that explain us having pieces of her memory?” Ethan asked further.
Dorian shrugged again. “Cassius has a theory that he’s researching. He believes that Power Shifting is a bit more complicated than we thought, and it’s actually like transferring part of you along with the power. In this case, it seems to be Irena’s memories that got transferred. It might further explain why death is part of the process.”
“Why did she split it between the two of them?” Hector asked.
“To lighten the burden of her talent. Can you imagine being able to see everything in the past, present, and future—in addition to all their other powers? She knew that neither one of them would be able to handle it on their own.”
Phoebe’s mind was spinning from everything. More power? She didn’t think she could handle more power. She was going to have to let this all sink in. She absentmindedly stroked Sapphire as Bree appeared and also settled into her lap. There was still one last pressing matter that had to be dealt with.
“And the prophecy?”
Cynthia pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Phoebe. “We already gave it to Cassius, but he has no idea what the second half of it means. No one does. He thinks that we’re going to have to figure it out on our own. But he’s researching.”
Phoebe took the piece of paper and read over the completed prophecy.
On our most honored of days, one that none have ever called their own, five will be born. Four will be the Masters of the Elements, fierce warriors, and with talents of immeasurable greatness. The fifth will steal a substance by greed, jealous of the others’ talents, master it, and bend it to his will, but the effort will consume him with evil, and he will make himself king and plunge this world into darkness, taking another with him to be his queen. Three will be left to protect those who are still free and to search in the city of kings for the Elixir of Souls. They must travel down roads of hardship and loss. They will free the oppressed and suffer the pains of betrayal. A long forgotten power waits to be called upon by those who are willing to embrace it, and love will guide them to use it properly. Each Master has strength and power, but only united will they finish their journey.
Phoebe waited to see if a vision would come to her to explain it. When nothing happened, she looked back up. “What do we do?”
Dorian purposefully removed the parchment from her hands. “We’re going to make sure that you take some time to rest, and when we’re satisfied with your recovery, then we will start going over it. You’ve done enough for the moment. Let Cassius mull it over for a while before you worry about it.” Dorian handed the parchment to Cynthia, who smiled and gently put it back in her pocket as she nodded in agreement.
Everyone else nodded, and Phoebe scowled.
“And don’t even think about trying to tell us you’re fine. We’re not budging, sis,” Evan said firmly.
She stuck her tongue out at him. He smiled, and then she shoved him off the bed. He hit the floor with a loud thud and glared up at her.
“Looks like you’re budging to me,” Phoebe said with a shrug.
“If you hadn’t just woken up, you would so pay for that,” he threatened.
Everyone tried to suppress laughter. “Training arena, eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Be there,” Phoebe challenged.
Evan jumped to his feet. “Oh, I will be.”
Dorian rolled his eyes.
“Well, we made it through,” Lucy commented.
“Together,” Phoebe added.
“Although, mostly because of you,” Ethan said.
“No, mostly because of you,” she argued.
Ethan gave Phoebe a look that said he clearly thought she was losing her mind. “You’re the one who led us there, sacrificed yourself to save us, and came up with all our plans!”
Phoebe returned his look of incredulity. “You’re the one who saved my life and got everyone back here, and I had help on all those plans from Hector and everyone else!”
“Guys…” Hector tried to cut into their arguing.
“You’re the one who told me how to use my power for the first time, and I don’t know whose plans are whose if you don’t mention it!”
“Seriously, come on now.” Hector tried to break in again.
Ethan waved him off. “And besides, that doesn’t even come close to comparing to self-sacrifice. That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but it was the first one you thought of!”
“Ethan,” Lucy said soothingly, but she didn’t get any further than Hector.
Phoebe’s hands clenched into fists. There was no way anybody was going to give her credit for their lives, because she most certainly didn’t deserve it. “Yes, it was the first thing I thought of, and because I didn’t think any further, I could have killed you just as easily as saved you by turning into…that! If you want to thank anyone, thank Hector. If he hadn’t been able to stop me, you would all be dead.”
41. Perspective
Phoebe’s last thought had burst out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. She hadn’t meant to tell her friends that she’d been about to kill them in the midst of her fury. Any reply got lost in Ethan’s throat as he stared at her in surprise. How could they not have realized how dangerous she was when that happened to her? She wasn’t just a danger to enemies; she was a danger to everyone.
Knowing that she could have killed them rather than saved them wasn’t a pleasant thought. She didn’t like knowing how close she had come to killing Hector. It was something she had been thinking about since she had seen Evan’s memory, but she hadn’t meant to voice her fears aloud.
Dorian and Hector both sensed her discomfort. Dorian laced his fingers into hers, and Hector spoke. “All right, guys, I think Phoebe needs a break.”
Everyone gave her curious glances, and Phoebe felt heat creep up into her cheeks. She let go of Dorian and buried her face in her hands. Hector ushered everyone out, and she felt a few hands press on her shoulders as they left. The door closed and footsteps faded away. Dorian let her sit in silence for a while. She could hardly bear to think that in trying to save lives she could have ended them just as easily. They were lucky, all of them, to have made it out in one piece.
“Phoebe.” Dorian reached through her hands and tried to coax her chin up.
Her throat was constricted so tightly that she wasn’t even sure she could move her neck.
When Phoebe’s head didn’t budge, Dorian slid around to her side and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“You wouldn’t have done it. I know you wouldn’t have,” he whispered in her ear. “Even if I would have been there, with how angry you were at me, you would have been able to stop yourself.” His voice was filled with guilt.
“How do you know?” Phoebe croaked.
“Hector told me what happened. How you stopped long enough to consider who was fighting rather than just killing them both. I think you have more control over it than you realize. Still, I owe Hector everything for saving you, and Ethan too.”
Phoebe dropped her hands from her face and leaned against him. “I owe them too. Several times over. But how can you possibly know that I wouldn’t have done that? It’s not something I can control.”
Dorian stroked the side of her face softly. “Faith.”
That simple word triggered the memory of the voice that had whispered in Phoebe’s ear. But it hadn’t been Dorian’s voice. It had been, very distinctly, that of a child. Phoebe didn’t mention it. Even with her talent of hearing just about everything, she didn’t think that hearing a disembodied voice was a good sign. And she didn’t need to give everyone more reason to fuss over her.
She leaned against Dorian as the passage of time caught up with her. If she had really been asleep for five and a half days, meaning it was about noon right now, then it was now officially January, the Wind Season. The stone on her necklace was silver, confirming her thoughts. After everything that had happened, June thirtieth seemed like a whole other lifetime. Any vestiges of her former life seemed completely gone, and she was now fully assimilated into this world and this life. She still missed her mother and father and the friends she had left behind, more than words could describe, but to be fair, she no longer wished that she could have them with her. She knew it would be selfish to place them in unnecessary danger when they were somewhere free from care and, well, free.
Dorian started humming softly, and the sound reverberated through his chest and soothed her sadness. She still couldn’t get over the fact that she had almost died. Did the fact that she had accepted her death interfere with her ability to accept that she was still alive? Maybe having Dorian back was what made it seem too good to be true. Maybe it was knowing that all her friends and family were still safe and healthy.
It seemed so surreal that the fears they had left with could be replaced by safety and security. Dorian twisted her hair around his fingers, and she wondered how she had earned all that and him too. She didn’t have anything to be angry with him about; it hadn’t been his fault. If anything, she was feeling more elated that he loved her so completely that even Kali’s most extreme plans had gone awry.
“Why didn’t you try to explain yourself when I woke up rather than offering to leave?” Phoebe asked, remembering her question from earlier.
Dorian stopped humming and considered her question. “Phoebe, you are a Truth Seeker.”
“And?”
“And that meant one of two things. Either you knew what happened at the ball because you read my mind, but it didn’t matter because you thought I should be stronger than that. Or you didn’t want to check at the ball because you were afraid of what you would find, meaning you didn’t know the truth yet. I wasn’t going to force it on you. I knew you would figure it out when you were ready.”
And Phoebe thought she over-thought things. “Has anyone told you that you might be too perfect?”
He chuckled. “Just you.”
“Well, then, rest assured that everyone else thinks it too, and feels utterly inferior because of it.”
“I don’t think so,” he muttered.
“How could you not?”
“Because I think you’re perfect.”
If she hadn’t been sitting in the middle of a very solid surface, she probably would have fallen right over. As it was, she sputtered incoherently before finally spitting out, “Are you serious? I’m the most imperfect person I know!”
“Maybe so, but even if that’s true, which I seriously doubt, that is the very essence of what makes you so perfect.”
“So you’re saying that my being imperfect makes me perfect?”
“In abstract, yes.”
She pulled herself away from his chest so she could see if he was really as serious as he was feeling. His eyes betrayed no hint of amusement. “That makes no sense whatsoever, you know,” Phoebe commented.
He smiled. “It would if you would view yourself from my perspective.”
She shook her head. “I have, and I still don’t get it.”
She had tried many times while occupying his mind to see and understand whatever it was he saw in her. And though she could feel his awe, wonder, and love, she still didn’t understand it.
“Would you like me to explain?”
“I can’t see how it would help, but I suppose you could try.”
If felt surprisingly easy to suppress her Truth Seeking talent at the moment. She didn’t listen as he assembled his thoughts.
“It’s not your imperfections, per se, but how you make those imperfections assets rather than drowning yourself in them. Very much like your theory that the absences of some things—our imperfections—make up the very fiber of who we are. And that truth and strength of character are defined by how we embrace those absences when it seems things can’t get any worse, or as you and Cassius put it, reach our breaking point. When you reach the point where it seems things can’t get any worse, you find strength in imperfections that people would generally view as weaknesses.
“Just like in the cave, when it seemed there was no hope, you embraced your anger and fear in an attempt to save those you loved. You saw weaknesses but turned them into strengths. Sometimes, rather most times, I believe, imperfections make us strongest if we are willing to embrace them for what they are, rather than try to hide them or deny they exist. So, perfection lies in imperfection and our willingness to accept those as part of who we are.”
Phoebe felt like she had just heard some great philosophical conclusion, but since it pertained to her, it was absolute craziness. “Well, that doesn’t mean anything special,” she said offhandedly.
“You only think that now because I’m applying it to you. But you’ve already proven that you think the same thing. You just don’t like looking at it from my perspective of you.”
“That’s because your perspective is ludicrous. You’re suggesting that people shouldn’t strive to rise above their imperfections, because then we’d be denying who we are.” Phoebe tried to twist his words around to suit her needs, which were to try to make him understand that none of what he had said applied to her.
He shook his head. “No, I suggest exactly what you suggest. That truth is what imperfections we have. Strength comes from how we strive to fix those imperfections. Truth and strength come when, in the moment of need, we accept ourselves for who we are and are willing to turn to our perceived weaknesses if the situation demands it.”
Her lungs deflated, and her shoulders slumped as she realized he had entirely decoded the meaning of her innocuous theory. Dorian smiled and brushed her cheek lightly. “You know, the fact that you’re willing to argue against your own words because you don’t think anyone should view you like that is even more proof of how exceptional you truly are.”
Phoebe scowled. “Fine, believe your insane theories, and I’ll know you’re wrong about me, and I’ll worry more about how you even know things you’ve never heard me talk about.”
Dorian leaned over the side of the bed and picked something up off the floor. Her journal. “I hope you’ll forgive me. When I found you had gone, I…was afraid I would never see you again, so I went looking for any part of you I could find. Might I also say, I like your theory on immortality. It seems many of your theories indicate that you somehow knew what was going to happen to you. I think this theory is relevant as well.”
Phoebe snorted. “Why? Is it because
you’ve found some preposterous way to apply that theory to me?”
His grin was blindingly bright. “Naturally. Would you like to hear it?
“Not particularly.”
“You don’t think what you did is grounds for earning immortality—in any form?”
Phoebe considered that for a minute. “Only if it would allow me to help others or encourage people to believe in themselves,” she said cautiously.
His awe was almost overpowering. “Exceptional,” he muttered.
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. “All this thinking is making my head hurt. Let’s go get something to eat; I’m starving.”
He had a curious expression on his face. “Of course, but might I ask you one more question before we go?”
She hesitated wearily. “I guess so.”
“You mentioned that you would give up your mortality so you could help others to see the beauty of life. Why?”
Phoebe had to think that over; it was more complicated to explain than to think about. It was one of those things where she knew exactly why she would do it, but she just couldn’t put it into words. “Because,” she started slowly, “I know this might sound crazy, but I’ve always felt like I knew exactly what I wanted from my life and exactly how to get it, and I don’t think that being mortal or immortal would ever change that. I’ve always wanted to help people live better, happier lives. It does seem a little ironic that I should be in the midst of the ultimate battle for human lives.”
Dorian nodded.
“There are other things that I want from my life, just like everyone. But if I could keep all those things and continue helping people—for an eternity—I can’t imagine anything making me happier than that. Even if it means giving up death and whatever awaits us after.”
Dorian considered her with careful eyes. “So, in essence, you do see immortality as a curse, but you would bear that in a purely selfless act?”
“Well, you make it sound noble when you put it like that. I can’t deny there are things that I would want to keep.”