The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  “It’s only days away now,” she said.

  Fortst ducked around a corner and came into view.

  “Break time’s over! It’s this way. Let’s get going!”

  The students formed their line, with Vern at the front, trudging along behind Fortst through the mountain pass. They crawled around mysterious stone pillars as the path dove down into the rock. The walls surrounding them grew taller, and the students marveled at the distinct layers of stone from eons ago that they could reach out and touch.

  A slight breeze, like a breath, blew into their faces. It grew stronger. The solid rock under their feet gave way to a sandy surface. Just as the students began to lean into the wind to keep their footing, they came upon a narrow path to the left from which the breeze gusted with fierce intensity.

  “Not much farther now. Come along!” Fortst shouted from the front. By the time his voice traveled to the end of the line, it had been altogether consumed by the wind. Walking onward required great effort now, and every student ducked behind the one ahead. They seldom dared to look ahead. The wind carried sand and grit that pelted them from head to toe. Their progress went from walking on a beach to heaving through a nasty sand trap.

  Fortst took the brunt of it himself, scoffing at this puny obstruction. He lunged forward with long strides, his boots sinking into the sand like it was snow. Momentarily losing his balance, he reached out for the wall with his hand. Soon the entire group huddled against the sidewall. After what seemed like an eternity, Fortst looked up and caught a glimpse of the chasm’s end. The wind and the sand spat at them, and several students slipped and fell. By joining hands they finally made it to the end.

  They passed through the opening and immediately felt relief from the wind pressure. A few of them laughed, and the rest enjoyed being able to hear again. Once everyone had been pulled out of the wind tunnel, they could finally take stock of their surroundings.

  The most impressive feature of this basin was the sand waterfall that poured down from the top of the gorge. The billowing stream originated at the bottom of Anthill Mountain, which towered overhead. Millions of tiny grains of sand slipped down the mountain every second. They tumbled down the dustfall and either caught the wind and rode away or trickled to the students’ feet.

  “From what I hear, whoever can make it the furthest up these walls is the favorite for the Final Trial. So let’s see what you kiddies can do. Don’t hold back now!” Fortst said.

  Looking up to examine the walls of the basin, they saw the sand and the wind had worn the surface considerably, leaving only a few sizable ledges. The walls were tallest near the chasm entrance, which caught the wind, and the shortest, most appealing walls flanked the dustfall.

  The rock face was perfectly vertical, and it towered over them at ten times their height. It wasn’t long before the students readied themselves to give it a try.

  “Out of the way!” Vern said. “I’ll get this over with, nice and quick.”

  He approached the face of the wall and raised his foot up to one stone jutting out from the flat surface. Putting his weight on it, he raised himself up and caught another hold. Will elbowed his way to the wall on the other side and began to work his way up. Vern, several feet above the ground, reached his leg out to catch a stone to his right, but his foot slipped and a moment later his back was in the sand. Those watching him laughed.

  “I’m still winning. I doubt anybody else will do better than that!” he said, getting to his feet.

  Roselyn looked carefully at the wall. She put her foot in the same place Vern had, and she raised herself high enough to catch another hold with her hand. She looked at the stones she had to work with. The next step would be to pull herself up with her hand and catch another stone with her foot. Instead, she hopped down from the wall and dusted off her hands.

  “This is not a good challenge for me. I prefer a surprise victory anyway,” she said, resolved that it was not worth the trouble.

  Will quickly found his way back down to the sand pit too, and other students were eager to give it a shot. Rowland and Mary began their ascent, and both seemed like competent climbers from their very first moves. Mary reached with her foot for the stone Vern had slipped on, but it held her and allowed her to take another step up. She looked around and saw little to work with. She held her hand out to the tiniest groove but slipped and fell.

  “Umph!” she groaned when her side collided with the sand.

  Having watched the others, Mira felt confident she could put on a good show. After all, her father had been the best at this in his class, so it must run in her blood. She chose the side Will and Rowland had used because it seemed to have more holds. As long as her shoes and balance held, she envisioned herself making it much farther than those before her. Next to her, Rowland lost his grip and jumped down to the ground.

  A few students watched her thoughtfully as she selected different holds and stretched to create a new path along the old one. Despite sand getting in her fingers and eyes, she focused on the smooth stone steps. Pulling herself up, lifting and swinging her feet onto another ledge, she surpassed Rowland but not Mary. Eventually, her boldness proved greater than her ability. She reached out for a tiny ledge and had to put her weight on it before she had a firm hold. She slipped and smacked against the hard sand. She heard Roselyn clapping and took a quick bow before getting back in line.

  On the other side, Chucky made his attempt up the wall. The temperature and the sun were getting to him, and already thick globs of oil dripped from his skin down to the ground. He put his foot on the first hold and it slid off as soon as he put pressure on it, leaving behind a greasy coating. He tried again, this time reaching up to a ledge with his hand, but he couldn’t hold on for more than a few seconds before it became too slick. Aoi stood behind him in line, and she threw a fit as soon as she saw his effect on the surface.

  “Get down from there! You’re mucking it all up!” she shouted, pulling him off as he went for a third attempt. Chucky shook some of the sand out of his shaggy hair.

  “Look at this!” she went on. “Look at what you’re doing. Face it. You’re not going to be able to do this, so stop screwing it up for the rest of us. Now go over there to the failure club,” she ordered, pointing to Roselyn.

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” he said.

  “Not yet I can’t, but soon,” she snapped. “For now, just think of it as a dose of common sense!”

  Chucky looked to the rest of those waiting in line. His eyes met with nothing but blank faces, and so he climbed up the sand hill and took a seat near Roselyn.

  Aoi jumped up to a small ledge above the ones covered in Chucky’s goop. She caught it with one hand, and her body hung without any other support. Putting her foot against the flat surface, she swung herself over and launched herself several feet up and to the right. She caught another ledge with her hand, and the students applauded. Swinging higher and higher, she displayed incredible acrobatic feats. Without using her legs at all, the strength of just one arm was enough to pull her up.

  While Aoi climbed, Mira walked to the edge of the wall and put her finger to the oil Chucky had left behind. She rubbed it between her fingers and felt how slick it was.

  Above, Aoi had far surpassed any of the other students. She scanned the rock face, searching for her next move. She looked down at the students below and paused, unsure of what to do next.

  “There’s nothing left to grab onto,” she whispered. Refusing to give up, she hopped up to the perfectly flat space above her and tried to grip the smooth wall. Without anything to hold on to, she slid back down, caught a rock with her foot, and then jumped down to the ground. She took a look up at where she had been, wiped her hands on her clothes, and boasted that no one could surpass her. But that didn’t stop her from getting back in line to try again.

  Mira knew she couldn’t outperform Aoi or even Mary. Looking for another way, she got out of line and casually walked around the edge of the basin. Taki
ng care to be discreet, she searched along the edge of the wall for another path. Her hand grazed the rock face, dragging her fingers against it.

  A tune drifted into her mind then. She remembered a simple lullaby her mother sang to her when she was young. It made her forget about her tired arms, and the wall appeared so clear in that moment. All of the ledges stood out as if they had a special light. Her mind awoke to them and understood the puzzle they created.

  The tune continued as she passed the chasm opening and walked to the other side. Right there, where the wall stood highest, she could see the way. It looked as simple as a set of stairs to her. She reached up and took hold of the wall’s first nubs. She felt a peace of mind and a focus in the gentle rhythm of the lullaby. Breathing easily, she scaled the wall.

  Climbing higher and higher, her feet finding firm footing on tiny ledges, she worked her way up the basin. The lullaby brought a warm feeling to her mind, making her feel safe, calm, and attentive. Mira ascended to many times her height, continuously climbing upward and to the right.

  “Look!” somebody shouted, but she barely heard them through the lullaby. Her hands and feet moved with the simple rhythm, and soon she had made it all the way over to where the other students were climbing, though she stood far higher than any of them had. Some students gasped. It seemed likely that at any moment she would slip and tumble from the precipitous height. Fortst stood ready to catch her.

  Mira’s classmates had all stopped climbing. Though a few looked for where Mira had begun, the rest gazed up at her in awe. She continued to the right until she made it to a ledge directly underneath the dustfall. This ledge stretched for a few feet and was wide enough to stand on comfortably. All of the students crowded under the fall, and she looked down at them with the wind blowing through her hair and the sun shining on her face.

  She looked around to see if it was possible to get higher, and that’s when she saw it, a name scratched into the rock face: Kevin Ipswich. The wind and the sand had softened the edges, but the letters were unmistakable. Mira ran her fingers across them, and she imagined her father being in this very spot so long ago. This is how far he had made it, and he must have found the same path to get here.

  Taking out a screwdriver she brought with her, she scratched her first name under his. She dug as deeply as she could so that those names would remain long into the future. She decided she had gone far enough, and so she looked for a way down after she finished writing.

  “How do I get down?” she asked.

  Fortst motioned to catch her, and she let her toes hang over the edge. The lullaby had left her, and now jumping down seemed like a terrifying proposition. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped.

  She felt Fortst’s arms around her, and he set her down.

  “I’m impressed,” he said. “Looks like you take the cake today.”

  “I would’ve tried harder if I knew there’d be cake,” Chucky grumbled.

  No one was able to climb higher, but Mira knew she couldn’t have done it without some help.

  “Thank you, for that,” she said to Roselyn as they prepared to leave.

  “For what?” she replied with a cool smile.

  “You know what it is, right? Your power? There’s this little spot in your brain just behind the forehead that controls emotion. It’s called the hypothalamus, and your notes reach it,” Mira said.

  “Is that so?” Roselyn replied. “I just like to think I bring out the best in people.”

  Returning home proved to be much easier with the wind at their backs and a solid grasp of which direction they needed to take. It seemed especially easy to Mira, who still enjoyed the satisfaction of her achievement. Maybe it would translate into a better result at the Final Trial. It might also mean the others would finally see her as a serious contender, and they would try harder to knock her out as a result. Only time would tell.

  The orange sun hung low in the sky by the time the group returned to the schoolhouse.

  “OK, troops!” Fortst called. “We’re just a few days away from the end. Our last day of class will be tomorrow, during which the Team Trial captains will deliver the order for the Final Trial. After that you will have three days of personal training before the Vernal Equinox and the Final Trial. Understood? Good, now get out of here.”

  “I can’t believe tomorrow’s the last day,” Mary said to Mira as they walked down the path.

  “I know,” Mira muttered. She certainly couldn’t believe it. Though she’d only been there for six months, she could never imagine leaving.

  The next day, the students returned to their desks for the last time. Mira felt a fondness for her worn desk and the ratty schoolhouse; somehow the thought of leaving it behind made it beautiful and precious. She pondered how the other students must have felt. Vern, Aoi, Roselyn, Mary, Will, and all the rest had grown up together in these schoolhouses that sat at the end of crisscrossing forest paths.

  Even Fortst displayed a wistful melancholy. He wore the same thick trench coat, but he betrayed his gruff exterior when his voice choked up.

  “I tried to do my best by you. I did. It wasn’t always easy, but I hope I taught you something that helps you. Just remember this. Keep your friends at heart, and work for their good at all costs. That’s what’ll keep you safe.”

  He stopped for a moment, and the class sat in silence. He looked at each of them, impressed at how they’d matured. What did the days ahead have in store for them? Though no one showed any signs of discomfort, Ogden Fortst felt compelled to bring the class to its final motion.

  “Will the captains report the order of their teams? Roselyn?”

  Roselyn rose from her seat. Her eyes were red and tears ran down her cheeks. She had been asked to deliver a list of five names, but the only thing that could come through her lips was a song. The melody was simple but sweet, and it spoke to them all of the hardships they endured, the joys they experienced, and the memories they cherished. The last note slowly trailed off.

  “Jeremy, Mary, Will, Roselyn,” she glanced Vern, but his face displayed no mockery or malice, “and Gerald.”

  “Very well. Aoi?”

  Aoi quickly rose from her seat, the one Mira had repaired. She looked around at her fellow students. Her face had a thoughtful and compassionate quality to it that she rarely showed.

  “I just want to say I’m sorry. Chucky, Mira, Rowland, Andrew, and Aoi.”

  “Very well,” Fortst said again. “Vern?”

  But Vern had already stood up.

  “It’s been a long road getting here, hasn’t it? Our Final Trial is finally here, and I know we’ll all pour our hearts into it. I’ve been class leader for a long time, but whether or not that continues doesn’t matter. I know we’ll be in good hands and we’ll work together no matter what happens. Oh, boy. Is it time? All right. Here goes. Kurt, Sophie, Dot, Dennis, and Vern.”

  “Very well. You will enter the grounds of the final trial at one minute intervals. The last student standing will be declared class leader. We’ll be meeting at dawn on Sunday, in the meadow near the first year house. Don’t be late. That’s it, everyone. Empty your desks and take everything with you when you leave, use your time wisely, and I’ll see you Sunday morning.”

  Though he had clearly dismissed them, no one got up from their chairs. Fortst scratched his neck. He stepped off the podium, walked down the center aisle, and exited the schoolhouse.

  The students began to empty their desks at a slow, lethargic pace. Mira removed her notebooks, pencils, screwdrivers, nuts, and hammer. She emptied them into her bag, peeking into the desk to see if she had gotten everything. The other students began to get up and mill about. No one seemed anxious to leave.

  “Hey, do you remember when we were second or third graders, and we used to sneak up here and pretend we were seniors?” Will asked.

  “Yes,” Mary laughed. “How did this place seem so mysterious and enchanting?”

  “There’s only one reasonabl
e explanation,” Will said.

  “And what’s that?” Dot asked.

  “We were dumb kids,” Will explained, and everyone laughed.

  “Some things never change,” Roselyn teased. “There’s still some mystery here though. I’ll never figure out how this decrepit shack is still standing.”

  “What do you think, one more game for old time’s sake?” Will said, pulling out his sack of Makara dice.

  “Why not?” Mary replied.

  The students pulled the desks together and sat down. Will rolled the dice, which turned up a mouth, a fish, a chair, a tree, water, lightning, and a blank.

  “Make him lick the desk,” Mira said.

  “But this is Dennis’s desk…‌and it’s still warm!” Will cringed.

  Smiling, Mira left them to their game. She grabbed her bag and walked through the door. A few students were sitting in the shade, talking and joking. On the other side of the clearing, Mira saw Chucky taking the path home.

  “Chucky, wait up!”

  He stopped and turned, confused.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Hey, I need your help with something. Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure,” he said, without hesitation. “What can I do?”

  “Actually, I need some of your oil,” she said, pulling a glass bottle out of her bag. “This much would do. Is that OK?”

  “No problem,” he said.

  “Really? Great. Wow, thank you so much,” she said. She expected to have to make another deal or answer a bunch of questions, so Chucky’s reaction brought her some relief. They agreed on a time and a place to meet before the final and then walked together down the path.

  “Are you sad to be finished here?” Mira asked.

  “It was good for what it was, but I’m hoping for bigger and better things in the future.”

  “That’s a good attitude to have.”

  They parted ways in town. Mira thought about all the work she needed to do and the precious little time in which to do it, and she rushed home.

  When she wasn’t working on her creations in the basement, Mira spent the following days preparing in every way she could. She wrote detailed strategies on what she should do if she turned a corner and ran into any of her competitors. She frequently talked with her parents about their experiences and how to deal with being the seventh one to start. She also went out for long runs in the woods, with her father tagging along.