Emotion slammed into her, and she staggered but kept her feet. She could no longer see clearly. Her world was awash in colors from emotions. They clashed violently. Mostly steely gray and black. She let her own fear run wild, making no attempt to curb it. Fear ripped at her insides and beat at her from outside. Her own and the other’s. There were bright spots in front of her, concentrations of color. Black and gray. People. She was only going to have one chance. Shaking, she struggled to stay on her feet. The pressure of her own skin hurt her. She could hear yelling, maybe it was only talking, but it felt as if her ears would burst. She took a step forward. Another. Inside, she was shrieking.
Taking all of the fear she felt, pulling in all of the fear of the other’s, she half ran, half fell forward. Her hand burned, felt like it struck stone, and then she Projected. She pushed all of the fear, concentrated it, and poured it in. She Projected it, as strongly as she could, as tightly as she could, trying to keep most of it directed only at the target she had reached - Nathaniel. That is who was burning her hand. She pushed all that fear into Nathaniel, multiplying it, Projecting it.
He screamed. Falling down, Elena fell with him, still holding on to him. She was so afraid. Still, she continued Projecting. Her face felt warm and wet. Her nose was bleeding. She could hear struggling behind her. She forced herself to continue Projecting. Nathaniel’s scream stopped as he raggedly pulled in a breath, and then hoarsely, the screaming started again. Still, Elena continued Projecting fear. She had to blink her eyes. They must be bleeding. She couldn’t continue much longer. Her neck felt warm. Her ears, bleeding?
Elena stopped Projecting. With the last of her energy, she rolled over until she was no longer touching Nathaniel. He didn’t move. Elena felt flayed, her skin peeled off. Phillip was suddenly above her reaching out to her. As he made contact, the world went an empty blank for a moment. When she came to, she could hear Phillip asking her what to do, how he could help, but she was unable to answer. She closed her eyes, but it didn’t block out all the colors. She could still see them. And then Phillip laid the necklace across her skin, careful not to touch her. That helped. Things were a little quieter now. Someone had stopped screaming. Her throat burned when she tried to swallow. Could that have been her screaming all along?
Slowly, over a lifetime, colors began to fade to normal. She could see again. Now Monica was standing over her, holding some sort of cloth to the cut on her neck. Her lips were moving, but Elena couldn’t hear anymore. Phillip was holding her back, keeping Monica from touching her. She moved out of Elena’s field of vision, and Elena tried to turn her head to follow her. She couldn’t. Something was sitting on her chest. She hoped someone would move it soon. It was making it hard to breathe.
The world was blank again. At least she had almost stopped hurting. That was something to be thankful for. She was going to miss. . . She couldn’t complete the thought, but she was certain she had suffered a great loss. So much was lost.
From far away, she thought she could hear music.
She followed it, and it grew louder. She listened for a long time. She loved that song. No, she loved that Song. As if she was stepping in to the Twist, she followed that music. She blinked her eyes, realizing that she was seeing again. Phillip was there playing his guitar. He was playing her Song. He had given it to her. Inside, she was smiling.
Another instrument joined. It accompanied him. The two played together harmoniously. She must be getting better because she could turn her head. Her father was there. He was playing her Song with Phillip. Was this real? She could see her mother, too. Was she only dreaming? But would she dream that level of fear in her mother’s eyes? Maybe this was real. “Keep playing,” her mother’s voice said. “We found you by following your Song. She is following it, too. Don’t stop playing.”
They didn’t. Together they played for a long time, and slowly, she was able to think again. She was able to remember the events of the night. All she had learned and the questions she still had. With a great relief, she realized they must have survived this night after all.
And then she saw him. The Speaker. She was afraid of him. He had covered up two murders. Compared to that, what was erasing a couple of college students’ memories? Was she to lose after all? She could only watch as he approached her.
“Listen to my Voice and obey, Elena,” the power of his Voice hit her. He touched her skin. “Heal and sleep. Sleep.” And Elena slept.
Epilogue
Elena woke up slowly and stretched. She was in her own bed. She looked down at her wrist noting the impression the bracelet made in her skin. She was wearing her ring as well. All three pieces of jewelry. She kept all three on, not daring to risk taking even one off. Someone had been taking care of her. There was a glass of water beside her bed, and she took a long, grateful drink. She remembered the events of the night slowly and the memories were fuzzy as if seen through a fog. The fear that she had built inside of herself and then Projected. Phillip’s Song. She had a vague recollection of her parent’s faces, both standing above her staring down at her with fear in their eyes. The Speaker. She remembered his face clearly.
She had survived. She had recovered. But what was she waking up to? What was left of her life? She searched her bedside table, but found no notes to give her directions. She had no idea what her roommates believed to be the truth, what fabrication they might have been told to explain the happenings of that night. She had to prepare herself. She had no idea how much any of them were made to forget. She would have to proceed cautiously and follow their lead.
Her heart ached. How much would Phillip have been allowed to remember? She couldn’t face him yet. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing his face without love shining behind his eyes. She decided to take a shower before she left the room. It was a good place to cry.
Phillip had carefully placed the glass of water on Elena’s night stand. He sat in the chair and waited as long as he dared. She had yet to wake up. He had been taking care of her, following the directions her parents had given him, but she had yet to wake up. He remembered everything from that damn night. He should have found some way to keep her from going. Her parent’s didn’t blame him, but he was blaming himself, and it was growing the longer Elena slept.
He shouldn’t wait in her room any longer. How would he explain himself if she woke up and found him standing over her? It would probably scare her and above all her parents said to keep all emotions calm and low key. Quietly, he left the room. His hands twitched, but he wouldn’t let himself play. Her parents had told him to wait up to four days before he played for her. If he played too soon, he could pull her to him, and she needed this time to heal. It had been only three. Three days, when they had told him Elena’s recovery could be as short as a full night’s rest. His impression was that they expected the recovery to be on the short side, not the long side of the ‘one night to four days’ range.
He went to the ice box to get himself a cold drink. When he sat down, he heard the shower come on and cursed. How could he have missed her waking up? He had hoped to walk into her room as soon as he heard her moving around. They had told him that Elena’s body would heal, that it would not be damaged. They seemed certain, but a part of Phillip still worried. There had been so much blood. His stomach clenched remembering her face that night, smeared with her own blood. Even that had not been the worst of that night. No, the worst had been that endless moment of deafening silence in Elena. That helplessness he had felt when he first tried to touch her. Her screams. The desperate attempt to get her necklace back on her somehow without touching her skin. All those he would forget. Eventually, he was sure. Well, probably. But never would that moment of silence screaming at him leave his memory. The moment his Song had stopped playing in Elena, the whole world had gone silent. He had done the only thing he could think to do. Desperately, he had played her song. Phillip shook his head putting that dark memory back in the past.
What had him losing sleep at night, as each d
ay passed, was that it was her mind her parents were worried about. From memory loss, to full recovery, to brain damage, or anything in between, they just wouldn’t know until she woke up. From what he understood, Elena had pushed herself to the edge of her abilities and beyond. No one was sure how much damage she had inflicted on herself. Or how much she would recover. The analogy that came to mind was a fried battery. Her parents had cautioned to give her space. They had stressed how he needed to keep his emotions even and calm when he was around her. That was the only thing that kept him from rushing in there right now. He was anything but calm.
They had been amazing, her parents, in the short time he had spent with them. He had learned so much from them. He could see so much of Elena in both of them, in different ways. He waited on the couch wishing he could make time fly, doing his best to keep his emotions in check.
Finally, he heard the shower turn off. After another grueling ten minutes, during which time he stood up only to sit back down at least three times, Elena opened the door. Phillip stood up in the middle of the room. She was so beautiful. Her hair looked even darker than usual since it was wet. And those dark blue eyes struck him hard in his chest. He had missed seeing them open and shining at him. She hesitated in her doorway. His heart sank. She had on her old-Elena face. The blank one she keeps for everyone else. Or used to keep for everyone else. It looks like he was back on the ‘everyone else’ list. It was okay. She had fallen in love with him once. He could get her to love him again.
“Elena, are you feeling ok?” he asked her. He wanted to grab her and carry her back to her bed. The thought reminded him of how he had taken her so roughly the last time they had sex. He couldn’t even call it making love. He felt ashamed. He tried some of the mental exercises her mother had suggested to get his emotions under wraps. He didn’t want to hurt her more. She had been through so much.
Her voice was shaking, but she was trying to hide it. “Hi, Phillip. I feel okay. Where are Monica and Jacob?” she asked. She fiddled with the bracelet. She still had the ring on, too. That meant she probably wouldn’t be able to feel what he was feeling right now. He was glad she had them on. They were shielding her from him. Fear. Anger at Nathaniel and Samantha. An aching feeling of love lost. He was feeling anything but calm.
“Monica’s at work and Jacob is at the gym,” he answered her struggling to keep his voice steady. He added, “They’re both doing okay. They’re not hurt.” He sounded like an idiot. He was not good at subtly fishing for information, and her parents had cautioned him to let her take the lead. He wished he could just ask her if she remembered everything. While he was at it, he could ask, ‘Also, is your mind damaged?’ Yeah, that would go over real well.
The way her eyes flashed at him, let him know he had messed up. He shouldn’t have added ‘they’re not hurt.’ Idiot. Couillon. She had only asked where they were!
“Jacob was unconscious,” she stated cautiously.
“He was, but he’s okay, now,” he reassured her. He added, “Monica was cut, but it was only a nick, really.” He was starting to gain hope, but trying to keep his excitement contained.
They stood there in awkward silence. He wanted to say more, but didn’t want to blurt out the wrong thing. Trouble was, he didn’t know what the wrong thing might be. He was catching a small clue at how difficult it must have been for Elena all those years, hiding who and what she was. Good thing she was so much better at conversation than he was. He wouldn’t have been able to pull it off.
Finally, Elena spoke again. “What do you know,” she asked casually, “about my jewelry?”
His heart beat hard in his chest with hope. “I know they act as objects to focus your mind and control your Talent,” he quoted her mother.
She smiled through tears. “The Speaker let you remember? Everything?” her voice cracked on the last word, and she took a step toward him like her body was drawn to him of its own accord.
“I think so. I remember I love you,” he started towards her. “I’ve been told we’re nearly bound,” he said with a grin. “Your mother thought I might be scared off by that, but your father knew better.” He reached her and softly slid his hand down her face. “He found us by following your Song. He said when I gave it to you, I knew what I was doing.” He softly kissed her lips, speaking against them, “He was right.”
She grabbed him and hugged him tightly, pressing her face against his chest. Phillip continued on, “I really like your parents, cher. I call them Michael and Lilliana. Your dad and I especially get each other.”
“And Monica and Jacob? What do they know?” Elena asked the middle of his chest. She was holding on so tight, he stopped worrying about her being physically hurt.
“Not everything,” he said decisively. He went on to explain the cover story Aiden had provided. They had brought Monica and Jacob to the bar. Their injuries were explained by an attempted robbery. Unfortunately, Samantha had escaped. Phillip had stopped her from taking Elena’s ring and bracelet but had chosen not to try chasing after her. Elena had needed his attention. Nathaniel had not gained consciousness the last time Phillip saw him. Aiden had taken that bastard with him when he left. The Speaker was scary powerful, he had to admit. Phillip could understand why Elena was intimidated by him. He had given Monica and Jacob new memories as easy as placing a fast food order. His head was in the right place, though. Phillip had no doubt Aiden would take care of Nathaniel. That’s if he ever woke up. Elena had taken him down hard.
Because he knew she would ask about it, he explained about Evenfall. Sadly, his murder would go unsolved. Aiden had uncovered something big and Samantha, Nathaniel, and Evenfall had been on the outskirts of it. To protect their way of life, the secrecy of Talent, and hide the abuse of it, Aiden would not agree to allow the truth to get out. “I’m sorry, Elena. I know that hurts you. And I feel bad for Detective Talbot, too. He is not a man to take his job lightly. But Aiden promises he is pursuing not only Samantha, but the people behind this operation.” After a pause, he added, “I got the feeling Aiden almost felt sorry for Nathaniel and Samantha. Like they were victims, too.”
Elena was still holding on tight, and Phillip was beginning to worry. Gently, he tried untangle himself so he could look at her. “Cher, are you alright? How are you handling all this? I doan want you to be disappointed. Or hurt. Are you hurting, cher?” he asked with fear in his voice before he remembered he was supposed to keep his emotions even and calm. Damn, he was screwing this all up, and he hadn’t even gotten to the part about Lilliana’s most recent vision yet. Elena wasn’t going to like it.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly with tears. “I’m thankful, Phillip. This is more than I dared dream.” He wiped gently at her tears as he felt his heart clench. “I was so afraid you would be taken away from me. All of you. But especially you, Phillip. I love you. No secrets, finally, I can give you no secrets.”
They kissed deeply and he felt like the weight of the world had just been taken off his shoulders. Elena stepped back in to her bedroom, leading him by the hand. He wondered if she would let him move his things in to her room tonight. He could use the room upstairs to practice his music now. He didn’t think she would mind. Not too much, he hoped.
He could die a happy man looking at that smile she had right now. He hoped like hell he was reading this right. His smile grew as she encouraged him to lie down on the bed. Yeah, he was right. But then he was confused when she handed him a magazine. He looked at it. It was an old copy of People. And then he got it.
“Read,” she said.
Glossary
Council – a meeting called of multiple Twists, usually in times of turmoil. Rarely occurs.
Object of Power – an individualized focusing tool, usually in the form of jewelry, that allows the wearer to control his/her Talent.
Opposite Power – each Talent has a specific ability that comes naturally to the user and must learn to be controlled. It is paired with an opposite power that is weaker
, must be forced, and is the opposite of his/her natural ability.
Time – Time flows slower inside the Twist, but the rate of that flow is not consistent. What is days in the Twist, can be months in the outside world. Travel in and out of the Twist is also of variable time.
Twist – both the space that exists alongside our own world where those of Talent primarily reside, and the passage to it. Each Twist has its own Bard that maintains it and anchors it in place. A Twist usually has multiple entrances to it, but it can only be accessed by its members.
Talents and Abilities:
Artisan – the highest level of the Talent pertaining to the ability to create and build; one can first Build, then is a Builder, before becoming an Artisan. Regardless of the level of ability, when this power is utilized it is expressed as the verb Build. Some of those of this Talent are involved in the making of an Object of Power. The opposite power is to Reclaim and is akin to recycling.
Bard – the highest level of the Talent pertaining to musical ability, both with instruments and with his/her voice; one first has Melody, then can Sing, before becoming a Bard. Regardless of the level of ability, when this power is utilized it is expressed as the verb Sing. Those of this Talent hear and see music much like a soundtrack. A Bard’s music both flows through his/her Twist and anchors the Twist in place. A Bard is also involved in the making of an Object of Power. This is the only known Talent without an opposite power.
Empath – the highest level of the Talent pertaining to the ability to sense other’s emotions; one is first a Sensitive, then Empathic, before becoming an Empath. Regardless of level of ability, when this power is utilized it is expressed as the verb Sense. Those of this talent must learn to differentiate other’s emotions from their own. Emotions are also perceived visually with each emotion possessing specific colors. The opposite power is to Project emotion.
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