“Antares.” Mr. West’s hand freezes me. His face is solemn, his body calm for the first time in memory.
I do not echo his tranquility. “Mr. West! It’s Violet! She’s gone! I tried—“
“I know,” he says softly. “It’s time to go.”
Before I can ask where, my body finally gives out. Weary from the waves, hungry from a brush with happiness, strung out from the scream.
I collapse on a shiny mirror, my failure left for all to see.
* * 33 * *
When I awake, Lumon Square has cleared. The streets of Talline are empty, and with no Persons around to block the sun’s rays, the entire scene is swathed in light. Pure, intense white exudes from everything in sight.
I move, and notice my form is light, no longer bound to the rules of gravity. I am free from Violet’s body. No more aches, no more feeling, no more touch. I try to look at my extremities, but cannot—with no body nearby to echo, there is nothing to see. A Shadow without a muse is nothing at all.
I wait, motionless, unknowing of what will happen next. What has happened to Violet, Mr. West, all the citizens of Talline mindlessly dancing around me moments ago? And Ben? I left him with nothing, no clue as to my retreat. I doubt I’ll ever get to answer him now.
The more I stare into the white void, the more I realize I cannot be in Talline. The illumination is too penetrating, too absolute, even for the city of glass. No, I have been taken somewhere else. Somewhere I’ve been but could never remember.
The Ether.
In a blink, I am not alone. The unblemished white is interrupted by two male figures of equal height and build, both with skin so golden it appears to be scraped off the sun. As they approach, their exteriors seem to move on their own, like liquid only slower. Rippling like oozing molten lava. Their form is human, but they are not normal; too perfect, simply ideal specimens of the race. And then I know who they are. Class Four.
I am hypnotized by their presence yet startled when they speak.
“Class Two, Shadow Realm, please rise,” says the figure on the left. He gestures to me with his left hand, and I see an oculoy imprinted on his wrist. It glitters, even more brilliantly than the one Mr. West sported. I float up, meeting them at eye level. I am not sure if I can communicate, but make no attempt.
“You are here because of your actions in the human world,” starts the figure on the right. “We have watched you recklessly assume identity in a body not of your own and set into motion actions outside your Person’s domain. No Pentral in your Class has ever been foolish enough to make such an attempt.”
I remain still, stunned by my own fear. There is nothing I can do to make up for my mistakes. I had hoped finding the glasses and revealing the Reflections’ negligence would relieve me of wrongdoing, help keep me on track toward retribution. But just like in my human life, I failed, unable to complete my mission. History repeating.
“You are an interesting case, Class Two,” says the Left, making no effort to hide his smug expression. “You found a way to escape your fate, free yourself from the servitude of Shadows, and yet you did not run. You could have taken that human form anywhere, done anything, with anyone. Still, you chose to stay. Why?”
I’m afraid to speak, yet the pair’s glittering gold eyes demand it. “I… I didn’t want anything to happen to Violet, my Person. I couldn’t let her pay for my actions.”
“Why not?” asks the Right. “Surely she never gave a second thought to your existence.”
“I watched her, every day, and knew she was good. Worth protecting. If I couldn’t live a life of my own, I wanted her to live for the both of us.”
“And was she? Living life to its fullest potential?”
“Yes, she was. She had love, people who cared about her. But it became hard for her to see.”
“And why was that?”
I look into their shining faces, calm and collected. They are safe in their high rank, their position of judgment. Maybe they’ve already decided my fate, chosen a nice building for me to Shadow for the rest of my existence. Nothing I say will make my position better or worse. I have stood in their shoes, watched from afar, thinking I know what is best. I have been wrong, time and again. Maybe it’s too late for me, but I won’t lose my sanity before giving them the complete picture.
“Because every time she looked in the mirror, she saw a monster. It was a horrifying mirripulation of who she really was and who she could be. The Reflections, Pentrals who should be under your command, are taking images and using them to torture. To make Persons feel like they are less than they are.” The Class Fours step back, surprised at my blatant insult, but I don’t care. I continue on. “I tried. I tried my best to find a way to stop them. It’s not right what they’re doing, and it’s not fair.”
They look at each other, the Left and the Right, with knowing, amused expressions. I have not shocked them as I had hoped, only confirmed their suspicions.
“Yes, we know of the Class Two Reflections,” Right sighs, a hint of boredom on his lips.
Their nonchalance angers me. “You know? Then why haven’t you done anything? Mr. West said you needed proof.”
“West is new to his rank. We wanted to see what he would do.” They chuckle, like evil conductors, applauding their manipulative orchestration.
“So, our efforts were for nothing?”
“No. We were watching you too.” I remember Mr. West’s words, about Class Four being upset about my switch, how they wanted to punish me. But watching their faces, tickled with satisfaction, I wonder if they manipulated him to push me further, to prove my worth. If they truly wanted me gone, they would have done so already.
Yes, of course. Why destroy me when I obviously have something to offer? They see something in me, something of value to them. Suddenly I feel as though I have the upper hand, a newfound power. They need me. But I need things too.
“Where is Mr. West?” I demand.
“Back on Earth.” Right waves his hand, as if it’s a non-issue. “He maintains his rank.”
“And Violet?”
“She resumes life as normal. In her body, where she belongs.”
I am relieved, but try not to appear too relaxed. I still need some answers. “So you’ll be returning me to her then?”
“Not so fast,” says the Left. “Your time in Class Two has come to an end.”
I feel like every particle within me is exploding, a finale of fireworks bursting through my essence. I was too bold, too brazen with my assumptions. With a few quick words, my insolence is brought to a halt.
“But…” I manage. It cannot be ending. Not like this. Why would they question me like this, dangle hope like bait? Panic rises within, and I take off, blazing through the white. Though when I move I find myself circling back to exactly where I started. There is no place to hide in this blinding void.
“Stop,” demands Right, holding up a flat golden palm. His oculoy shimmers on his skin. I freeze, my frightened form immobilized. Just like with Mr. West’s touch, they have influence over my movements, only the Class Fours seem to have the power to control from a distance. “That’s enough, Antares.”
The Left approaches, my essence paralyzed. “We brought you here for reassignment.” Any moment now, the words “Class One” will leave their shimmering lips, and I’ll be gone, banished to a life without choices, without options, without the ability to connect. I think of Blue, my fellow Pentral, struggling to reach out when I touched her. How desperately her mind searched for a way to communicate, yet was left with nothing to latch on to. If I wasn’t frozen, I would fall to the floor in despair.
“You have defied our realm, our rules, in unimaginable ways. Yet your ability to feel, connect to your emotions, gives you a strength too valuable to waste in Class One.” Left stares at me, penetrating eyes glittering like a pot of gold. “You are being promoted to Class Three.”
The Right lowers his hand, yet I remain motio
nless. Did I hear correctly?
“You want me to continue on?” I ask in disbelief. “After all I’ve done?”
“Precisely because of what you’ve done,” Left answers. “Dark forces are afoot in our realm and we need more help, more Pentrals like you, willing to attack. The Reflections have rebelled, and we seem to be outnumbered. We’ve lost control of them. They have found leadership elsewhere.”
I let his words settle. The Class Fours have been unable to stop the Reflections because they are answering to another. Who could be more terrifying than those who could restrict your sanity? I think back on my experience, the timelines I’ve seen, and one face pops up. He is the one who struck suspicion in the heart of his daughter, fear in the face of a celebrity, distrust in my own skin. William Kelly. He let me fall to my death when he thought I could uncover the truth—even his own child tried to stop the mirripulations. If I could straddle the lines between realms, who’s to say Mr. Kelly, the most powerful man in all Talline, couldn’t do the same?
“Your passion, your dedication toward revealing the truth, will aid us tremendously,” Right continues. “That is, of course, if you are up to the task.”
I am vibrating with excitement. “I accept,” I say in my most measured tone.
“Brilliant,” says Left. “Furthermore, we feel it would be advantageous to reinstate you in your previous body.”
I am confused. “But I thought you said Violet was back in her body.”
Right shakes his head. “Not your Person’s body, your body. From when you were human.”
I flash to the blonde girl in the mirror from my vision. Me. I will see myself again.
“Your feelings seem to fuel your fire, so we are giving you access to your past,” Left says. He comes closer, a warning written on his golden face. “Do not take this lightly. Being privy to these details—a true second chance—is not something we’ve granted for many Pentrals. We expect to be repaid for our generosity.”
I am elated. Not only will I keep my sanity, but I am regaining all I lost when I became a Shadow. My memories, dreams, ambitions, emotions will be restored and I will be whole, no longer searching for meaning in the lives of others. Once again I will be a Person.
But within my happiness is a sliver of doubt. Asserting my own identity means cutting ties with Violet. I’ve been by her side for so long, it’s almost like I know her better than I know myself. I’ve become so attuned to following, reacting; will I be able to stand strong on my own, without my Person next to me?
“Who will Shadow Violet?” I ask.
“We have reassigned a former Class One to follow her.”
“Oh.” It’s the best possible solution, I suppose. Another Pentral and I will each have a second chance. Still, it feels strange, knowing I won’t be with her every moment of the day, watching her live her life. Someone else will take my place. I will be free to do other things, see other people…
Ben. I think of him, standing gutted in the Festival crowd, but also holding me in a bed of soft cotton. His figure central in both of my existences. But how could he be there, loving the girl I used to be, and also back on Earth, living life in Talline? Has he always been so lost that he can’t choose where to stay?
Surely the Class Fours would know. “I need to ask about—“
“Your time here is done, Class Three.” Left dismisses me, bored with addressing a lesser rank.
“But—“
“We will contact you again soon.”
With a wave of a golden hand, the white flickers away, leaving me standing on the edge of a rocky cliff. The sun has nearly set, and while the sky above is dark, deep in the canyon below light continues to twinkle. A breeze blows a tangle of blonde across my view. I brush it aside, a glint of gold catching the corner of my eye. On my wrist is a tattoo, a bright and unblinking emblem awaiting my next move. The oculoy.
I am a Class Three.
I run my hands over this body, different from Violet’s slender frame. It is new, yet altogether familiar, like slipping on a favorite shirt. The curve of my waist and strength in my legs makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground for the first time in years.
I take slow, cleansing breaths, letting my heart settle into its new rhythm. I have a lot to do and for the first time, it will be on my terms.
And I’m ready to reflect the truth.
About the Author
Crystal lives in Chicago with her husband, daughter, and English bulldog. The Pentrals is her debut novel and the first in The Pentrals series.
To find out how you can receive your own oculoy or connect with Crystal, please visit:
Website: www.crystalmack.com
Twitter: @Crystal_Mack
Tumblr: crystal-mack.tumblr.com
The Pentrals Page 21