The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  When she reemerged, Vika found Mira crying. From her puffy, red eyes, fat tears sloshed their way down her cheeks. She sniffled as she held her arms tight against her chest. The rest of her looked to be absorbed in something very far away.

  “What wrong, Mira? What does it mean?” Vika asked, cradling Knoll in her arms.

  Mira’s lip twitched and she took a breath as if she’d just come up from under water.

  “He finds like things,” she said before slowly lowering herself down against the wall. She put her hands in her face and wept. Confused, Vika set Knoll in his pen and kneeled down next to Mira.

  “But that’s good, finding like things, right? It’s useful, much more useful than my gift. What could possibly be the matter?” Vika asked, putting her hand on Mira’s shoulder.

  Mira struggled to look at Vika through her waterlogged, distraught eyes. She couldn’t catch her breath, and some of her joints started to ache. The memories were too much to bear.

  “I watched him die,” she stammered.

  “What?” Vika asked, shaking her head.

  “He came to rescue me, but he died, right there in front of me, and I watched his essence float away up to the web. All he wanted was a happy life. His name was Yannick, and he could find like things.”

  “Honey, you sayin’ you knew the one who had this gift before my son did? Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s the web for you. It always finds a way to worm into your life whether you like it or not,” Vika said.

  Mira shook her head, giving up. She shrugged her shoulders even as she sobbed.

  “I guess I have to believe now. Powers return to the web after people die so they can be reborn in the next generation. I just always thought it’d be something I could measure or test. But it showed itself to be true to me in a way I never could’ve found out on my own.”

  “And as well you should believe it. Don’t let anybody here convince you there’s some man behind everything. The workings of the universe won’t be unraveled for a good long time yet. So we might as well enjoy our musings in the meantime,” Vika gabbed with a comforting smile.

  Mira continued to whimper and cry when Vika got a strange look in her eye and shot up. She rushed over to the door and closed it shut, pulling the blinds over the windows after that. Every now and then she’d cast a sympathetic glance down at her, but Mira was too wrapped up in the visions of a fallen friend to notice.

  “No matter who had it before or where it came from, no one’s gonna take my baby from me. He’ll never be one of them, and that’s final!” she declared.

  The room had gone dark except for thin rays streaming through the cracks. Amidst her sobs, Mira shook her head.

  “You can’t hide him or they’ll know something’s going on even quicker,” she said.

  Vika took a seat on the bed for a moment of thought. She hadn’t been seated for more than a few seconds when a harsh knock came at the door and Vika nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “That was fast!” she moaned.

  “Hey, it’s me. Anybody in there?”

  Vern’s voice put them at ease, and Vika rose to let him in before opening the door and removing the blinds to the pane-less windows. Mira had been quiet, but as soon as the light entered the room she could tell Vern’s mood changed. He put his knuckles over his mouth for a moment even though they were covered in a chalky white substance.

  “Whoa, what’s going on here? What happened?” he asked Mira.

  “I trust you not to tell anybody, but Knoll’s showing,” Vika revealed, coming beside Vern as he looked down at Mira on the floor against the wall.

  “OK…” he said, asking for more.

  “He finds like things,” Vika said, pursing her lips.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mira,” Vern frowned, shutting his eyes and putting his hand to his face. The news seemed to make him trip forward, and soon he was sitting in front of Mira. “I know this must be hard for you.”

  “It’s OK. I’m fine.” Mira wiped the water from her cheeks. “Yannick died for me, the sad end to a friendless life as an outsider. I’ve always fought for him, and now that a little piece of him is back, I have to fight all the more to make sure there’s a place for Knoll where he can belong.”

  She could barely hold back the tears from running anew to get her words out. Burying her head in her knees, her ponytail twitched along with her shaking head. Vern got up, sat on the bed, and took a deep breath. Some other slaves walked by the path along the hut. The squirrel came in through the back window.

  “You know,” Vern added, sounding thoughtful. “This could be the break we’ve been waiting for. If the diamond carafe is in two halves, if we got the half from Arent, Knoll could take us to the other half! We could finally put this whole thing to rest. With that power, there’d be nothing that could stop us from fixing everything. No more camps, no more domination. We could have the peace that was meant to last for an eternity!”

  He stood up and cast his eyes to the baby in the pen, who was oblivious to all they were talking about. Mira watched him. He managed to get so excited even as her feelings of gloom and loss hardened.

  “Just a minute, friend,” Vika cautioned. “Just because I won’t hand him off to the Sunfighters doesn’t mean I’ll give him to you. There’ll be no perilous journeys for this little one. I’ve got to keep track of my children!”

  “But don’t you see!” Vern implored. “This is our one chance to do this. Of all of the infinite powers in the web, this is the only one that allows us to find the other half. It’s not an accident! The purpose here, what this would accomplish, it’s beyond anything we could imagine.”

  “You been out in the sun too long, boy. We’ll be havin’ baked brains for dinner if you don’t come back to your senses. You’re not gonna take my baby,” she declared, looking him straight in the eye.

  Her tone had been both threatening and fierce, forcing Vern to back off with a shrug of the shoulders. He looked to Mira for support.

  “We still have to find Arent and find a way to stop him before we can do any of that. He’s out there somewhere, terrorizing people, training his army, feeding his spiritual baloney to his poor suckers. I wish we could just put an end to all of this. But doing anything has always been straight through him.”

  Mira, deflated, stared down at the ground in front of her. Vern too plopped down in a chair at the table without any of his former excitement. He picked up a strawberry, tore away the stem, and tossed it in his mouth. When the sound of footsteps caught their ears, they all looked up.

  Chucky walked in through the door, sweaty and red-faced from the heat. He saw three long faces, but his glance lingered much longer on Mira’s than the others. He took a step toward her then took a step away toward the table.

  “Hard day?” he asked.

  “Not quite,” Vern answered. “Knoll has Yannick’s power.”

  “You said you wasn’t gonna tell anybody!” Vika scolded over her shoulder.

  “Chucky isn’t anybody else. We’re practically like brothers, not to mention he helped deliver your baby.”

  “Oh my. What have I gotten myself into?” Vika shook her head and wondered to herself.

  Chucky came around the side of the bed on his way to where Mira sat, but he stopped himself at the corner.

  “I know those aren’t fun memories. I’m sorry, Mira,” he said, scrunching his brow.

  Hanging between Vika and Vern at the table and Mira over by the wall, Chucky turned his head and caught eyes with Vern. Clearing his throat, he went and sat down on the ground near Mira, who still felt like she was reliving the nightmare of her loss. Chucky scratched his head through his shaggy hair and looked up. He opened his mouth to speak, though he didn’t for several moments.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked at last.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” she growled, still huddled up in a ball.

  Chucky’s face wrinkled up like she’d slapped him in the face. There wasn’t any mistake he wanted to show
his concern and sympathy, but Mira didn’t like the way he was trying to coddle her.

  “You know, something like this happened to me once. There was this—”

  “Chucky!” Vern interrupted, getting up from his seat and starting for the front door. “How about you and me take a walk outside? Come on. Let’s go.”

  Reluctantly, Chucky took another bashful glance at Mira before climbing to his feet and following Vern out the door. Mira sighed and wiped her face once they were gone.

  “Enough baked brains around here, we’ll never go hungry,” Vika said.

  “You’re not doing yourself any favors,” Vern said to Chucky once they’d left the hut behind. They strolled along the winding path past other tents and their inhabitants.

  “I was just trying to talk to her,” Chucky defended.

  “Sometimes it’s just better to let it go,” Vern nodded.

  “That’s not what she would’ve done. If something’s bothering someone, she always wants to find out what it is. Here, let’s go over this way.”

  Walking side by side, they veered off the path and onto a lane of tall grass that would take them out to the beach.

  “OK, I understand that. There are plenty of times when girls wants to talk about their feelings, but that didn’t seem to be one of them. She knows well enough it’ll only take some time to get over it,” Vern concluded, letting his hand brush against the tops of the grass.

  “Yeah, well what do you think I should do? It’s like nothing I do gets through to her. She never responds in the way I expect.”

  The grass became shorter as they got closer to the water. Passing the trees, they could see a guard tower down along the beach at the edge of the camp.

  “Girls are difficult,” Vern sighed. “You’ve just gotta keep putting your name in the hat and hope it comes up a winner. Just be there when she needs you to be.”

  “Is that what you did with Aoi?” Chucky asked, looking him in his black eyes.

  “It’s funny how they would just let us swim for it. I guess they know there’s just nowhere to get to than the bottom of the ocean. If you’d asked me what I was doing with her back before we were all by the river, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. The way I acted around her, I never really thought of it. And now we’re here,” he shrugged.

  Chucky leaned against a big rock along the edge of the brush. Vern kicked his sandals off and let his feet sink into the sand. He ventured down to the water and washed the white chalk from his hands. By the time he came back, Chucky still hadn’t said anything. He looked deep in thought, torn even.

  “If you want her, just don’t give up hope, OK? That’s the one thing we all have to do, hold on to hope.”

  Chapter 6: The Caravan Man I

  Roselyn kneeled on the floor in front of her bed making a charcoal drawing on a hefty patch of fabric from the back of her uniform. Knowing she was supposed to be cleaning the temple, and knowing there would be consequences if she got caught, she dragged the hunk of charcoal with determination and fervor. Angrily, her eyes mauled the developing image as she held the fabric tight with her knees and left hand.

  The drawing was of the machine Clara had described to her, but it was also much more than that. Once she started drawing, she remembered the pose Clara had her make. The bars within the orbs were actually handles, and they would conduct the energy that would power the ship. The ship would use the same energy that had taken her voice and nearly took her life.

  In the drawing, a strong male figure sunk his hands into the empty, elevated balls. Rugged and ragged, he looked much like a chained prisoner. There was something missing though. Just a blank oval covered the space of his face. She couldn’t bring herself to draw it, even if his thick, frizzled hair made him unmistakable.

  His shirt was torn open like when they met him on the plains near Darmen. The diamond shard poked through his chest. Roselyn had never been able to explain its significance to Mary or Will, and she doubted that even this drawing would be enough to get the information across to Mira once she showed it to Clara. And so out of her frustrated rage she stabbed at the cloth as she finished forming his sides.

  Before she could even start on his trunks, the sound of snapping pine needles and footsteps told her she’d finally been caught. In a flash, she rolled up the cloth and tucked it into her waistband along with Clara’s daily ration of food. It seemed like so little, making Roselyn wonder if she shouldn’t feed her some of her drugs just to keep her from starving.

  “Why aren’t you down at the temple!” the large matron barked when she entered the bunkhouse with her silver-haired companion. Roselyn, of course, did not have an answer, but she was ready to turn to them when they came in.

  “She thinks just ’cuz she can’t talk she can get away with anything!” the younger one moaned.

  “It’s gonna be a long, long day for you, Garbage Girl. We’re gonna watch you like a hawk and you’ll be scrubbing floors until the sun goes down,” the matron promised, coming forward and grabbing Roselyn by the hair.

  Roselyn stumbled forward after a fierce shove, nearly colliding with the candle and cup the woman’s counterpart held out to her. Taking them, Roselyn tried to act like she was grievously repentant and unwilling to go through with another trip into the cave.

  “But we thought you’d be used to the smell by now,” they laughed, pushing Roselyn through the doorway and toward the hill. “The witch’s pet would be so sad not to see something even more pathetic than she is.”

  As usual, Roselyn’s tormenters stopped well shy of the tiny shack set against the rock and commanded her to venture on alone. Hanging her head and feigning misery as best she could, her thoughts were on the drawing by her waist and how she would explain it to Clara. There could be no mistake about who it was, and no one was better acquainted with the Warlord’s power than Clara. This could finally be the big break Mira waited for, and Roselyn wouldn’t allow herself to fail her long lost friend.

  Casting another look down the way to their watchful eyes, Roselyn left the sight of the pair, ducking into the shack and the cave beyond. The candlelight allowed her to navigate through the rocky tunnel, and it wouldn’t be much longer before another meeting with Clara and her tortured body began.

  A crunching sound came to her through the darkness, making Roselyn feel optimistic about Clara’s health. If she were moving more vigorously and actively, it would mean she was getting better. She heard the sound of water, braced herself for the smell, and entered the small cavern in which Clara’s body was kept.

  When the light brushed against her, Roselyn believed she was right about Clara’s improved condition. She appeared to be awake, and she used her eyes to stare into the darkness.

  “You look better,” Clara whispered from the darkness, and Roselyn wished she could say as much about her.

  Not wanting to waste any time, Roselyn dumped the medicine into the narrow stream, already turning away by the time it splattered and splashed. Coming back around and brushing away some strands of long hair so she could better see her face, Roselyn reached into her waistband for the drawing. A strange look came to Clara’s face, and her eyes shifted disturbingly behind Roselyn. There was another crunching sound, but before Roselyn could turn she felt tenacious hands constrict her, forcing her to drop the candle, which rocked against the ground and went out.

  Will and Gloria plodded down the hill to the forge. Feeling irritated by the unexpected obligation, Will sulked and offered the same grim expression he always hoped would lull Gloria but never seemed to work. Instead, she kept right by his side with a skip in her step and a grin on her face. Her perpetual joy of being in control picked at him, and he wanted to smack it off her face. Only the privilege and the safety of his position held him back.

  “What are we doing anyway?” he grumbled.

  “The witch wants all of us to help load the caravan,” Gloria sang.

  “They’ve never needed so many people before. Maybe I’d better go ba
ck and keep an eye on our teams.”

  Will stopped and turned, hoping she would just let him go. But her voice took on a shrill moan that made his skin crawl.

  “Relax! Nobody’s going nowhere. I don’t think this’ll take all that long, and then we can get right back to work,” Gloria replied.

  Sighing, Will dragged himself along down the hill. She kept a close eye on him, forcing him to hide all of his displeasure at getting involved with the caravan. The roaring forge at the bottom of the camp spewed black smoke into the air above them, and down below other black uniforms started to gather.

  “So did you ever get to the bottom of that food situation?” Will asked, looking for a source of amusement. So far nothing had gotten in the way of his arrangement with Mary and Roselyn. Gloria’s smile broke and she hung her head a bit.

  “No, I haven’t been able to figure out anything. Once in a while they’ll find food places, but for all they find those girls should be dead,” she lamented.

  For a second, Will thought it was too bad it made him feel so much better to hear her sorrows.

  “I’m not surprised. I think your whole mystery is a waste of time. They don’t deserve our attention,” he concluded, flinching when she immediately snapped back at him.

  “I’m not going to give up! When I set myself to do something, I do it. You’ll see!”

  “It just sounds like you’re chasing thin air,” he said.

  His thoughts bemoaned her persistence as they walked around the side of the forge. The last thing Will wanted was to draw any more attention to himself, Roselyn, or Mary. Those girls had it hard enough as it was, and it pained him that he could do so little to make things easier for them.

  Once they cleared the building, they could see the porous fence and the gateway marking the end of a clear path down and out of the mountains. Behind the assembly of guards, teams of horses pulled hulking carts and wagons. The flatbed carts were covered in buzzing flies, warming themselves in the sun. Will scanned the crowd of camp guards and caravan attendants for the loathsome caravan master, only to have him pop up right behind him.