Freakling
Page 18
Solovar stepped forward. “What happened? Where are the priests?”
Amma spoke up. “The last time I saw them, they were running into the temple.”
“They were inside?” Solovar asked.
“I think so,” Amma whispered. “Yens, too.”
“Let’s clear away this rubble, people,” Solovar said.
That’s when the real panic started.
“I can’t do anything!”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Where is my psi?”
“Is yours gone, too?”
“Skies! Does anyone still have psi?”
“The temple! It must have happened when the temple fell down.”
The voices grew louder and more anxious. He knew how they felt. Learning how to be powerless would be hard, very hard. But when he thought about the alternative — war, destruction, suffering — he knew he’d made the right choice.
He watched Amma’s face as she began to piece together what had happened. Her eyes slowly widened. “I think it’s better if we go back to the colony for now,” she whispered. “If they find out it was you, you’ll be in real danger. We’ll send back some people who can help.”
“Wait,” said Solovar. “Let me go with you.”
Without thinking, Taemon put a hand on Solovar’s shoulder. But Solovar didn’t even flinch. “The people here need you, Solovar. You can help them rebuild Deliverance. The colonists will teach you how to build things that don’t require psi to operate, how to plant and harvest food. Life can be good again.”
Solovar rubbed his hand over the white stubble on his chin. His fingers left streaks in the dust covering his face. He took a deep breath. “Skies above. It really is a new cycle.”
Amma and Taemon took advantage of all the confusion to slip out of the temple grounds, down the steps, and out to the street.
The traffic lights had stopped working, but it didn’t matter because the quadriders had stopped running as well, their drivers puzzled. Some had gotten out of their vehicles and were banging on the hoods, unsure how to open them without psi. One woman was sitting on the curb, holding her head in her hands and rocking her body. Children were crying, and their parents were holding them awkwardly.
“So it’s gone?” Amma asked. “Psi is really gone?”
Taemon nodded. “It was the only way.”
“Your parents would be proud,” Amma said. “It was the right thing.”
“But not the easy thing.”
At a restaurant, people were climbing out of broken windows because no one could get the automatic doors to work. Some people ran; others wandered in a stupor.
“This is going to get worse before it gets better,” Amma whispered.
“It will take a long time to get used to,” Taemon said. “But they’ll adapt.”
“Let’s go home,” Amma said. “Which way?”
“This way,” said Taemon, pointing to the Alligator street sign. “It’s the quickest.”
He took her hand. Amid the pandemonium, Taemon and Amma walked calmly through the streets and left Deliverance through the North Gate.
Writing is often considered a solitary endeavor, but really it’s a team sport. I am lucky to belong to an amazing team helping me at every point in the game.
My miracle-worker agent, Molly Jaffa, saw something thoroughly cool in Taemon despite the clumsiness of my early efforts. Kaylan Adair brought her editing prowess to bear on Freakling. My writing group comrades have lent their unfailing support over the years. Brian Rock, Stephanie McPherson, Hazel Buys, and Pat Tabb from the Richmond Children’s Writers and Neysa Jensen, Docena Holm, Monelle Smith, Michelle Tripp, Brenda Cordery, Zenija Blatz, Jo Mitchell, and Laura Bingham from the Treasure Valley Children’s Writers have all had a hand in Taemon’s story. Beta readers Kristen Fennel and Katelyn Chrisman were a big help. Also vital to the effort was in-house reader Ben Krumwiede.
I feel sorry for anyone who has a writer in their immediate family. Writers are always pestering the nearest innocent bystander (usually family members) by throwing story ideas around and insisting on brainstorming sessions. My family has cheerfully endured a great deal of mind wandering and story obsessing.
Many thanks all around!
Lana Krumwiede has published more than fifty short stories, articles, and poems in publications such as Highlights, High Five, Spider, Babybug, The Friend, and Chicken Soup for the Child’s Soul. About Freakling, her first novel, she says, “I have tried psi many times, particularly when it comes to household chores, but I could never make it work. I do have a few mildly supernatural abilities, which include untying knots, peeling oranges, and winning at board games. My perfect day would include reading, writing, swimming, cooking, telling jokes, spending time with family, and pie. And maybe a board game or two.” Lana Krumwiede lives in Richmond, Virginia.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2012 by Lana Krumwiede
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2012
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2011048350
ISBN 978-0-7636-5937-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-7636-6204-2 (electronic)
Candlewick Press
99 Dover Street
Somerville, Massachusetts 02144
visit us at www.candlewick.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Part One
1: Alligator
2: Monkey
3: Water
4: Wind
5: Rabbit
6: Serpent
7: Stone
8: Rain
9: Beetle
10: Eagle
Part Two
11: Knife
12: Quake
13: Dog
14: Owl
15: Flower
16: Reed
17: Turtle
18: Jaguar
19: Fire
20: Fruit
21: Alligator
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright