Freakling

by Lana Krumwiede

  “I’ve sewn tiny hooks inside the seams,” Vangie said. “No one will be able to tell.”

  “Lighten up a little. It’s your birthday.” Jad punched Taemon in the shoulder — contact humor again.

  Taemon took one of the shirts and examined the hooks. “You don’t know anybody in the city. I do. I used to live here, remember? Someone might recognize me.”

  “Were you famous or something?” Vangie asked. “Did you play psiball? Someday I’m going to find a way to see a psiball match,” she added with a dreamy look.

  “No, I’m not famous, but still.” Taemon thought about his disaster at the psiball tournament a month ago. It had caused quite a stir. Some people might very well recognize him.

  “Psiball seems weird,” Jad said. “People standing inside a huge glass egg, watching a ball whiz around? Give me a good old basketball game any day.”

  Vangie pulled out a wide-brimmed hat and handed it to Taemon. “You can wear this. My cousin said it’s the latest fashion.”

  The latest fashion a year ago, maybe. “This is stupid to the power of stupid,” Taemon said.

  “Why? Who’s going to get hurt?” Vangie asked. She held up a shirt for Amma.

  Jad tried on one of the belts for size. “No one will know just by looking at us that we’re powerless. We won’t eat anything; we won’t touch anything. We’re not even going through the gate. We’re just going to blend in with the crowd outside the gate and watch the ceremony.”

  “Sure,” said Taemon. “Blend in. Jad, that belt you’re wearing is for a girl. Wait . . . what ceremony?”

  Vangie gave him an exasperated look. “Today’s the day they announce the True Son.”

  Skies! How could he have forgotten? In all the trauma of being sent away, he hadn’t remembered that the True Son was supposed to be announced on his birthday. Had the high priest chosen Yens? Would Mam and Da be there? He wasn’t ready to talk to them, but if he could get a glimpse, just to see if they were okay . . .

  “Cha. So exciting. Then they’re going to escort him —”

  “Or her,” Amma said. “It could be a girl.”

  Vangie rolled her eyes. “Him or her through the North Gate, just like the prophecy says, and into the temple.”

  Taemon’s conscience was screaming at him. They were acting way outside their authority. This plan involved breaking at least seventeen rules. So many things could go wrong. On the other hand, he might not have another chance like this. Mam and Da could be just beyond these walls. Could he really turn his back on them?

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  When everyone was dressed as properly as they could manage, the four of them started on foot toward the city. They left the road before anyone could see them, tramped through the trees until they got closer to the crowd, then slipped into the edge of the throng, staying well outside the gate.

  Jad was right about the ceremony. A platform had been built a few yards outside of the North Gate, and a crowd had gathered around it. Taemon could see only a little way through the gate, but from the sounds of the crowd, he figured there were quite a few people lining the street inside the city. The True Son would probably lead some kind of processional toward the temple in the center of the city. A few people had ventured outside the gate to get a better view of the platform. Taemon and his friends joined the edge of the crowd without anyone noticing.

  Music cut through the noise of the crowd. Crystal shards hung in the air, suspended by psi, striking one another and ringing with a sound as clear as winter dawn. The harmonies were so intricate, no fingers could ever combine that many notes simultaneously.

  Taemon looked for his parents. He couldn’t see them yet.

  He smelled luscious aromas from the vendors’ carts. It’d been forever since he’d had a lamb roll. Too bad eating was out of the question.

  The psi clothes didn’t fit right, and Taemon had to resist the urge to tug at his collar. He looked again for Mam and Da. They must be here somewhere.

  The noisy crowd began to settle as an ornately decorated carriage floated in midair toward the gathering. Two lines of temple guards walked behind it as it traveled along the outside of the city wall, no doubt using their psi to lift and propel the carriage. When it passed by, Taemon craned his neck and tried to peer inside, but the thick curtains covered the window. Was it Yens?

  Vangie squeezed Jad’s arm. “This is so exciting. The True Son must be inside.”

  As the carriage stopped near the platform, a man stepped up on the stage. Taemon had no trouble recognizing that salt-and-pepper beard entangled with shiny charms, that garish robe — definitely Elder Naseph.

  The old high priest turned to face the crowd, his back to Taemon, and began to speak, amplifying his voice with psi. “At last, the True Son is among us!”

  The crowd cheered. Taemon had to stop his friends from clapping with their hands. He glanced around to see if anyone noticed, but luckily everyone was fixated on the carriage.

  Again he scanned the gathering for his parents. They weren’t here. Surely if Yens were the True Son, his parents would be close to the platform. Did that mean Yens hadn’t been chosen? Or that Mam and Da objected to the ceremony?

  Elder Naseph encouraged the crowd by waving his hands. “The True Son is the greatest among us, yet he desires only to serve. He will bring us into a higher level, an elevated existence. So that you may know the one who is to serve you, I will tell you the remarkable things he has done.

  “One day as he played by the ocean with his younger brother, his brother was careless and fell into the sea.”

  Earth, Sun, and Sky.

  It was Yens.

  “The True Son ran to get help. But when he came back, he saw that the boy had been sucked into a dangerous sea cave. Everyone thought the boy’s life was lost. But the True Son did not give up. He reached into the sea itself, pulled air out of the water, and sent it into the boy’s mouth so he could breathe.”

  How did Elder Naseph know the part about breathing underwater? Taemon had never told anyone, not even Yens.

  “When the rescuers carried the boy out of the sea cave, he was barely alive. The True Son nearly lost his life that day as well, so great was the exertion.”

  An outright lie. And it rolled off Elder Naseph’s tongue smooth as honey.

  The crowd gasped and oohed. They were sopping it up.

  Elder Naseph continued. “This is the selfless sacrifice that characterizes the True Son. His psi is more powerful than any of us has seen, and yet he uses it only for the good of others.

  “To you, the true people of the Heart of the Earth, to you I present the leader of the new Great Cycle of power — the True Son!”

  The carriage door swung open, and out stepped Yens. The crowd roared its approval. He looked taller, his shoulders a bit broader, his hair longer. And his smile was as smug as Taemon had ever seen it.

  “He’s so striking!” Vangie gushed. She bounced on her heels like a three-year-old.

  He thought about telling his friends that the True Son was his brother. But what if word got back to the whole colony? People might treat him differently, making it harder for him to fit in. And they might want to know all about the True Son, which was the last subject Taemon wanted to talk about. He decided to keep quiet for now.

  The crowd hushed as Yens spoke. “True people, this great day falls on Quake — the day of revision. Seeing old things with new eyes. I urge you to see your psi with different eyes. See it as a way to improve our community. Dedicate your psi to the united vision of the elders, for whatever they ask of you will be for the benefit of all.”

  It was Yens’s voice, but the words sounded stiff, as though the text was memorized or rehearsed. While Taemon listened to the rest of Yens’s rousing speech, he watched the high priest and saw him nodding with a lofty air. The priests were up to something; he felt sure of it. But what? And how did Yens fit into their plan? Whatever it was, Taemon was sure it would bring more money into the tem
ple.

  Yens’s speech concluded, and the crowd cheered again.

  “That you may know the extent of his power,” Elder Naseph said, “the True Son has a very special display, which shall be the sign that begins the Cycle of Power.”

  Yens raised his hands and looked up at the sky. His fondness for the dramatic hadn’t changed.

  The crowd murmured, unsure what was coming.

  The ground shook. First a tremble, then the land visibly rolled and buckled. Parts of the wall crumbled. People gasped, laughed, and shouted with delight. Cement chunks from the wall fell toward the crowd, but the flying debris was easily fended off with psi.

  An earthquake? How was Yens doing that? A rock about the size of a watermelon tumbled from the wall, heading directly toward Amma. Everyone saw it. Everyone expected she would whisk it away with psi.

  Amma watched with horror. She seemed paralyzed with indecision. Taemon knew exactly what was going through her mind: If she moved out of the way, people would know she was powerless. But if she didn’t move out of the way, she’d get hurt and people would still know she was powerless.

  At the last moment, Taemon shoved Amma out of the rock’s path. In the same instant, the rock abruptly changed direction and tumbled harmlessly away. Someone in the crowd must have helped out with a shove of psi.

  It took a few seconds for Taemon to realize what he’d done, the way he’d pushed her with his hands like that. His attempt to keep Amma safe had exposed their powerlessness.

  A murmur cascaded through the crowd. Yens turned his attention to the disruption. Across the sea of people, he caught Taemon’s eye. Recognition showed on his face, followed quickly by anger.

  “Run!” yelled Taemon.

  On the way home, Jad and Vangie were laughing it up inside the hauler’s cab, no doubt exaggerating the excitement of the day. In the back of the hauler, the mood was different.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Taemon asked.

  “Cha,” Amma said.

  “Sorry about pushing you,” Taemon said. “I guess I just panicked.”

  Amma shrugged. “It was an earthquake, after all.”

  They had made it back to the hauler without any problem. No one had chased them. Yens must have thought sending the guards after them would have meant sharing the center of attention. He wouldn’t like that.

  “Listen, there’s something I want to tell you.” Taemon took a breath. Was this really a good idea? Probably not, but something made him plunge ahead. “That guy, the True Son? He’s my brother.”

  “Your brother?” Amma said. “Seriously?”

  Taemon nodded. “Don’t tell anyone in the colony, okay? I don’t want people knowing.”

  “Cha. Right. If Vangie knew, she wouldn’t leave you alone for a second. I won’t tell a soul. Skies, he’s really your brother?”

  “I’m not exactly proud of it.”

  Amma shook her head. “An earthquake. Can you believe that? Like it’s a show or something. Let’s hope no one gets bored anytime soon. Tornadoes might be next.” She blew her hair out of her eyes. “Psi is a nuisance if you ask me.”

  “Have you ever had it?” Taemon asked.

  Amma turned to him with a shocked expression. “Of course not. I was born in the colony. They tested me for psi when I was little. That’s one test I was happy to fail. They would’ve sent me to the city.”

  Taemon remembered how his parents had feared for their children being taken away. He’d never thought about powerless families being in the same situation. “Does that really happen?”

  “Not often. They say kids don’t develop psi unless they see it every day, think about it, grow up with the assumption that psi is possible. Then, after you’re old enough to know that psi exists, it’s too late. That part of your brain shuts down or something.” She paused. “Do you ever wish you had it back?”

  “No,” Taemon said firmly. He’d nearly destroyed his family when he had it.

  “I just meant . . . Do you like living in the colony?” Amma asked. “When I was in school, the city kids sometimes got teased.”

  “I didn’t have to go to school in the colony,” Taemon said.

  Amma nodded. “Were they nice to you? The people at the farm, and Marka’s family?”

  “Cha, nice.” Taemon thought he’d answered Amma’s question, but she looked at him like she expected more. Like what he had to say actually mattered.

  “When I first came here, I thought I would live out the rest of my life in some kind of drudgery. Like a labor camp or something. But people were kind. Marka, Enrick. Their kids acted like I was their favorite cousin come to visit. It was almost too nice. I was sent here to be punished, but it doesn’t feel like punishment. It feels like . . . like freedom.”

  Skies, he sounded like an idiot, even to himself!

  “Some people have psi. Some don’t.” Amma shrugged. “It’s not like you make a choice.”

  “I know,” Taemon said. “It’s just that . . . I didn’t expect to like it here, that’s all. Tomorrow I’m starting my apprenticeship at the tinker’s shop, and I get to fix up a byrider. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  Amma was quiet for a while. Then she squinted up at the sky. “If you had the choice, would you choose to go back home?”

  Taemon frowned. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m here to stay, so that’s that.” Taemon looked away, toward the trees slipping by, shrinking into the distance. But despite his response, the question plagued him. If he woke up tomorrow with psi, would he choose to return to the city? He thought about the greedy priests who didn’t help the poor people. Mam and Da afraid of what the neighbors would see, what the healer might report, what the teachers would think. In the colony, things were different. Nothing was locked up. People worked together. Parents held children in their arms. They hugged each other, for Sky’s sake.

  Amma spoke up, interrupting his confused thoughts.

  “I think it does matter,” she said. “I think what you want is who you are.”

  Her words sounded so much like Da. “‘The Heart of the Earth judges everyone by the desire of his or her heart.’ That’s what my da used to say.”

  “Exactly,” Amma said. “What is the desire of your heart? It doesn’t matter if you have psi or if you don’t. You still have to know what you want; you have to picture it in your head before you can make it happen.”

  A strange idea struck Taemon. Maybe he had done exactly that. Maybe he had chosen to be powerless, rather than live with psi and the burden of deciding who should live and who should die. Here in the colony, with no psi, his life felt more peaceful and settled than it ever had before.

  “I have chosen the colony,” Taemon said.

  After that, there was just enough time for one more round of the hay-spitting game, which Taemon lost. Again.

  The next morning, Taemon packed his belongings, which amounted to a few clothes plus one of those strange teethbrushes, and moved into the apprentice’s room next to Drigg’s workshop. The first week was a bit of a disappointment because they couldn’t work on the byrider. Some of the parts had to be tweaked a little more, and Drigg had sent them back to the blacksmith.

  Instead, Drigg had been showing Taemon how to use all the different tools he had. Screwdriver. Drill press. Wrench. Even the names sounded violent. Today’s tool-of-the-day was pliers.

  “Now, I want you to take this”— Drigg handed Taemon a spool of wire —“and use them pliers to make something useful.”

  Taemon stared at the odd tool the tinker offered him.

  “At lunchtime we’ll see what you came up with.” With a nod, Drigg tucked his cap over his bald spot and crossed the workshop to start on his own work.

  Taemon sighed. He hoped his decision to work for Drigg wasn’t a mistake. But going back to Marka’s wasn’t an option. They were expecting another powerless kid from the city today, a five-year-old girl, and they needed his old room. A new place, a new family, a new school. Taemon r
emembered how frightened he’d been when he came, and he’d been much older than five. He couldn’t imagine being so young and separated from your family and everything you knew.

  An idea began brewing in his head. He wanted to make something for Marka and Enrick. Something that would be useful, as Drigg said, but also something that would make the kids smile. Taemon stared at the wire for a second, and when an image came into his mind, he set to work.

  Just before noon, Taemon had finished his wire creation. He’d made a row of hooks, the kind you might hang jackets on. He’d twisted and curled the wire to look like a row of whimsical dogs. The hooks were sometimes a tail, sometimes a floppy ear, sometimes a curled tongue.

  “Them kids are going to love this,” Drigg said. “Why don’t you take it on over? Then take your lunch break.”

  Taemon nodded. If he remembered right, Amma’s house was on the way. He wondered if she was home, and if she’d like to have lunch together. Tucking the hooks inside his jacket, he fumbled with the buttons, then shoved his hands into his pockets as he’d seen the other kids do. The sun was bright for a late winter day, but the air still had a chilly bite.

  Marka’s house was on the other side of the colony, so Taemon had to walk through the center square. Last time he’d been here was on barter day with Hannova. Today the square looked quiet and deserted. Even though a few shops, like the bakery and the blacksmith, stayed open all week, today was too cold for most people to be out. Taemon saw only one other person, and that was Challis, bundled in one of her colorful scarves. He crossed to the other side of the street and hoped she wouldn’t see him.

  “Thayer! Oh, Thayer!”

  Too late. Challis turned and headed straight for him. He waved but kept walking.

  “Come inside and have a hot cup of tea with Auntie Challis.”

  “Thanks, but another time, maybe. I’m delivering something.” Taemon smiled and picked up his pace.

  “Ah, yes. The hooks. The Water girl loved them.”

  Taemon stopped. “The Water girl? You mean Amma?”