New Sight

by Jo Schneider

  Her eyes fluttered open. The scenes that filled her head left when her gaze fell upon Kamau and Mark, both looking worried. Lys was laying on a couch, her head in Kamau’s lap.

  “There she is!” Brady said brightly, his face coming into view.

  “You okay?” Mark asked. “Any killing urges?”

  Lys shook her head. That act alone sent her world spinning. The little man with the big hammer was back. “No,” she said in a haggard voice. She thought she might vomit. “What happened?”

  Mark took a breath. “You just broke.”

  “Broke what?” Brady asked.

  “A barrier,” Mark replied.

  “Is this something to do with the drug?” Lys asked.

  “Oh, it’s not the drug,” Mark shook his head. “There is no drug.”

  Mr. Doyle’s words came back to her. Had Mr. Mason really lied about all of this?

  “No drug?” Lys asked.

  “You’re a science experiment!” Peter said, pointing at himself. “Just like me and Inez. That’s what we think it is.”

  Mark furrowed his brow. “Science experiment?”

  “Yeah.” Peter pointed at Brady. “He has to be a mutant too. You saw what he did!”

  “Mutant?” Brady looked at his hands. He nodded. “That would make sense.”

  Mark shook his head. “You’re not mutants.”

  “But we’re not drugged either?” Lys said. She struggled to sit up. Kamau helped her, keeping a hand on her shoulder.

  “No, no drugs.”

  Lys looked around. She noticed that old, mismatched furniture filled the small room. Inez scowled at her while Brady looked at his hands, Peter glanced back and forth between people, and when Lys got to Kamau, she found him watching Mark with interest.

  Mark frowned at Inez. “You think you’re science experiments?”

  She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “How else do you get ‘special powers’?” She put the last two words in air quotes. “I don’t go much in for the mutant theory.” She waved a hand at Peter.

  “You’re not mutants,” Mark said.

  “So we’re not freaks?” Peter asked, his eyes wide.

  Brady laughed. “You’re a freak, kid.”

  “So are you!” he shot back.

  “No, you’re not freaks,” Mark said.

  Still groggy, Lys watched and listened, trying to make sense of the conversation. It felt like she was missing a vital bit of information.

  “So if it’s not drugs,” Brady said, “and we’re not mutants, what is it?”

  “You probably won’t believe me even if I tell you,” Mark said, shaking his head.

  “After what we just went through? I’d believe it if you told me we were aliens,” Brady said.

  “No, you’re not aliens, and you’re not mutants.” Mark grinned.

  “Then what is it?” Brady wailed.

  “It’s magic.”

  Chapter 14

  “What?” Lys said.

  “Magic? I knew it!” Brady cried, pumping a fist in the air.

  “Magic?” Lys wanted clarification.

  “Magic.” Mark nodded.

  Lys noticed that his hands were clean—freed from the yellow goo. “What happened to that stuff on your hands?”

  Mark held his arms out, wiggling his fingers. “We managed to scrape it off while you were out. Potent stuff.”

  “Is that so you wouldn’t touch anything?” Brady asked.

  “Yup.” Mark shrugged. “The New know I’m a touch user.”

  “The ‘New’?” Brady asked, putting air quotes around the word new. “That’s a really lame name.”

  “They’re not concerned about being cool,” Mark said. “They kill magic users. And that would be us.”

  “Kill?” Lys asked, still not convinced about the whole magic thing. “Why would they want to kill, uh, magic users?”

  “They didn’t seem particularly interested in killing us while we were there,” Kamau said.

  “They wanted information,” Mark said.

  “They’ll kill you,” Inez said in a hard voice. “They’ve tried to kill us a few times.”

  Peter nodded gravely.

  “Why?” Lys asked. Inez only glared at her, so she turned her attention to Mark. “Why would anyone want to kill someone who could supposedly use magic? We’re just kids.”

  “Not all magic users are kids. They were after Mason at the hospital.” Mark turned to meet her eye, and Lys flinched.

  Before, with Mr. Doyle, Lys could still feel the Need, even if she couldn’t get to it. Now it sat docile, waiting. But for what?

  “And trust me, they’ll come after us again,” Mark said.

  “Why are you suddenly so alert?” Inez asked Mark, eying him suspiciously. “Thirty minutes ago you were practically drooling.”

  Lys thought Mark might be angry—Inez’s words were far from kind—but he laughed. “The effects of the New’s dampening finally wore off. They’ve got technology that can repress magic. I’m sure their facility is packed with it.” He jerked his head toward Lys. “Why do you think she broke so fast once we got away?”

  “What do you mean, broke?” Lys asked. “I don’t really feel any different.”

  “You might not feel any different now, but don’t be surprised when your magic starts to manifest itself.”

  Brady turned to face Kamau. “Magic! Can you believe it? You should check out your eyes! Dude, I told you it would be awesome.”

  Kamau turned his attention Mark. “I think you owe us an explanation.”

  “Yes,” Lys said. Maybe they would finally get some answers.

  Mark opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He turned to Inez and Peter. “You don’t know anything about magic?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “How have you survived?”

  Lys didn’t like the sound of that.

  “We make do,” Inez said, fixing Mark with an icy stare.

  “Well you’re still alive,” Mark said. He looked them over. “That’s something anyway.”

  “Come on!” Brady interrupted. “You’re going to tell us about the magic.”

  “Fine, fine.” Mark held up a hand. “Okay, this sounds a little crazy, but let me get through it.” He took a deep breath. “It’s an old story—it goes back so far that no one even remembers the beginning.”

  Brady rolled his eyes. “What, like a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away?”

  Mark smiled. “Not exactly. A long time ago the world was a different place. Before technology the world was filled with wonders most people can’t comprehend.”

  “Technology?” Brady demanded. “Are you some sort of anti-technology freak?”

  Mark shook his head. “No. Before technology people saw, heard, felt, tasted, and smelled things on a different level than they do now.” He paused. “I don’t mean technology as in cars, the printing press, and computers. I mean technology in the very rudimentary sense—simple machines and helpful tools started it all.”

  No one spoke; they were all listening intently. “Before technology, there was magic. Magic is divided into five categories. The categories are linked to our senses: touch, sight, sound, smell, and taste.”

  “Mine has to be touch!” Brady said proudly.

  “Just let me tell the story.” Mark held up a hand. “Back then everyone had some form of magic. Everyone was particularly attuned to one of their senses over the others, giving them abilities beyond the norm.”

  “What kind of abilities?” Lys asked. What kinds of things did Mark claim this magic could do?

  Mark shrugged. “Most of the accounts are gone—lost to society and progress—but the little we have uncovered is amazing. For instance, we have one journal that tells of a man who could punch holes through boulders. Another touch user could put his hand on the ground and feel what was going on around him through the vibrations.”

  “Wicked.” Brady grinned.

  “At one time,
magic was the most powerful force on the planet. There is evidence that the societies of the world lived in peace and harmony for thousands of years.”

  Peace for a thousand years? Lys couldn’t even imagine a world without strife and war.

  “Until someone got greedy?” Brady again.

  “Along those lines.” Mark said. “People who didn’t have great abilities with their magic were jealous of those who did. A few of them banded together and started to make technology. Things that would help everyone be the same, so there were no advantages.”

  “Sounds like dystopia to me,” Brady threw in. Lys was beginning to wonder what Brady did with his free time.

  “Well it didn’t go over very well. We don’t have many particulars, but before too long there were two factions—one for technology and one against.

  “Technology is powerful. You’ve all used tools: cell phones, computers, or even a car. We can do so much more than the generation before us just because of the technology we have.

  “Magic is powerful as well, but it works in a completely different way. Magic is personal. No two people wield magic in the same fashion. Every cell phone or pencil works the same no matter who is using it. Magic is different. The man who was so powerful in the sense of touch could do amazing things, but he could not heal. Others with their sense of touch could heal any wound.”

  “Wow,” Lys breathed. If this magic thing was real, all she’d seen of it was destruction. All she’d felt from it was horror, terror, and violence. Could there be a good side to it?

  “Wow is right. “ Mark looked back at her, meeting her eye.

  Lys looked away.

  “So people back then had super powers? Like the X-Men?” Brady blurted out.

  Lys blinked. Seriously, what did Brady read and watch?

  “Kind of,” Mark answered.

  “So what happened?” Brady asked, leaning forward.

  “The people with the technology won,” Mark said, shrugging. “They built tools and machines and discovered medicine. Soon no one had to wait for a healer to arrive to mend a wound nor did they have to wait for a powerful touch user to move large objects or build great structures.”

  Inez leaned forward. “What does this have to do with us, and where has this magic been? Why doesn’t anyone know about it?” She watched Mark intently, but with a frown on her face.

  “You,” Mark said, glancing around, “are all magic users.”

  Silence followed the announcement.

  Lys cleared her throat. “Uh, is that why Brady can crumple metal doors like newspaper?”

  Mark nodded. “He already guessed his sense.”

  He flexed his fingers as he looked at his palms. “It’s gotta be touch, but you said touch could heal people. Can I do that?”

  “Not everyone,” Mark grinned. “I couldn’t heal a paper cut, but I can push things with my feet as well as my hands. Everyone is different.”

  Lys tried to process this. Magic? Really? The logical side of her brain didn’t want to entertain the idea. However, she’d seen Brady destroy doors and cars, and she’d seen Kamau send a wave of tile floor at the guys in black. The whole world as she knew it was changing faster than she could keep track.

  Kamau, who had thus far been silent, spoke. “What is the origin of the magic?”

  “Good question,” Mark said, pointing his finger. “Magic comes from the world—mostly from living things. Kind of like the Force, but on a very specific level.”

  “So we’re Jedi?” Brady asked, bouncing in his seat.

  “No.”

  “Where has this magic been?” Inez asked again. “Why do we suddenly have it?” Her tone still betrayed her disbelief. Lys was right there with her.

  “Technology has,” Mark hesitated, “disrupted the magic of our world. The ability to use magic sits dormant in blood lines for a long time. It’s likely that one or more of your ancestors was a powerful user.”

  “User?” Lys asked. Peter had said Brady was using. “You make it sound like drugs.”

  “Not drugs.” Mark shook his head. “But some of the effects are the same. It’s different for everyone.”

  “Speaking of different,” Brady started. He was staring into Inez’s eyes. “Why are everyone’s eyes a different color? I like the red better.”

  Lys risked a look. Yes, Inez’s eyes were indeed swirling red, just like Peter’s. Why hadn’t they been doing that the whole time?

  Inez smacked him on the shoulder. “Stop staring.”

  Brady’s face lit up like he’d just got a new video game.

  Mark went on. “Besides being divided into the five senses, magic is also divided into five levels. The levels range from complete chaos to neutral to anchored.”

  “More lame names,” Brady said.

  Mark ignored him. “Some call the levels infancy, adolescence, adulthood, middle-age, and ancient. Either way works.”

  “What do they mean?” Inez asked, her swirling red eyes regarding Mark with renewed interest.

  “They coincide with a person’s raw power versus their control capabilities. Black eyes are an indicator of chaos. More power than most, but also a lack of precision that can be dangerous. Red, like Inez, means adolescence or chaos neutral. Not quite as much power, but more control. Gold, like Lys, means she is adult or neutral.”

  “My eyes are gold?” Lys asked. Her hand flew to her bad eye. The fingers appeared in her vision. The eye patch she’d been wearing was still pushed up on her head, right where Kamau had left it.

  “Check it out, they look cool!” Brady said, pointing to the wall behind her.

  “They?” Lys asked. “But my eye . . . the doctors said I would never see out of it again.”

  No one spoke. Lys steeled herself and turned, gazing at her reflection in the cracked, oval mirror on the wall. Lys could still see the scarred gouges around her right eye. Most of them had faded, but the two deep ones probably wouldn’t ever disappear. Nervously, Lys turned her attention to her eyes. Her normally blue irises were swirling gold, like a paintbrush moving through a vat of sparkling, golden paint.

  “Wow.” They were beautiful. Both of them. “But how?” She looked at Mark.

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. A good question for Mason maybe.”

  “So what does gold mean again?” Brady asked.

  “Users with gold eyes have the best balance of control and power.” Mark waved a hand. “Light blue is middle-aged or neutral stable—they lean more to the control side with less power. And finally, those with silver eyes are ancient or stable—master of control, but not much power.”

  “So what I’m hearing is that I’m a baby touch user?” Brady asked, wrinkling his nose.

  “That’s right,” Mark said, laughing.

  “Why would you want to be ancient?” Brady asked.

  “Think of it like the martial arts. There are those who can hit or kick so hard they can hurt anyone, but it takes a lot of energy and it’s not very precise. A master who can hit someone in exactly the right spot doesn’t need as much power to get the same effect. Both ends of the spectrum have their pros and their cons.”

  “Can you change your level?” Lys asked.

  “No. At least not that anyone has ever heard of. Your level is born inside of you. There is some leeway in learning more control or more power, but it doesn’t go far. You get what you get and you learn to work with it.”

  “Which level are you?” Kamau inquired.

  “Chaos, like Brady.”

  Lys remembered Kamau’s eyes in the tunnel. “You’re anchored,” she said.

  “I guess so.” Kamau shrugged. “Brady said my eyes were silver.”

  “So,” Brady propped his chin in his hand, looking at Inez. “I can see that you’re eyes are red, but what is your sense?”

  Inez’s eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know.”

  Mark asked, “What happens to people when you use on them?”

  Before Inez could answer, Brady put hi
s head in his hands. “Oh, man. Not again,” he said, moaning.

  “What is it?” Lys asked.

  “He used too much,” Peter said, shaking his head.

  “I didn’t use anything,” Brady said in a flat voice. His hands started to shake, and Lys saw him curl in on himself. “I just feel so bad.”

  Inez, who sat next to him, stood. “He’s going to lose it.”

  “He’s not going to lose it,” Mark said.

  “That’s what you said about her.” Inez jabbed a finger in Lys’s direction.

  “She’s fine. Breaking is rough.” Mark turned his attention to Brady. “What’s wrong?”

  For a moment Brady didn’t answer, and when he did, the despair in his voice broke Lys’s heart.

  “I just can’t stop myself,” he said, gripping his hair in his fingers and pulling. “I’ll hurt someone.”

  Those words—the tone of his voice; they all combined together in Lys’s mind, and she knew exactly how he felt. This must be his own Need. After seeing what he did to inanimate objects, Lys had no desire to find out what happened if he lost control.

  “Can’t you help him?” she asked Mark.

  “He needs to learn to control it.”

  “Control what?”

  “The magic,” Mark said. “If you can’t control the magic, it controls you.”

  Chapter 15

  “You can control it?” Inez asked, shooting Mark a questioning look.

  “Sure,” Mark said. His eyes stayed on Brady, who started to rock back and forth. “Can you handle it?” Mark asked.

  Brady shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Try,” Mark said.

  “How?” Brady whimpered.

  “Channel the energy to where you can deal with it,” Mark said, leaning forward. Lys noticed one hand poised, ready to touch Brady.

  “There’s so much, and it wants me to . . .” Brady trailed off. He didn’t have to say it. Lys knew what he was talking about. Maybe they all did.

  Well, everyone except for Kamau. Lys stole a glance at him and found no recognition or understanding emanating from his eyes. Instead he looked curious, like Brady was an exhibit at the zoo.

  “I can’t,” Brady said, his voice almost a sob. One of his hands jerked down to the chair, and his fingers closed over the arm rest. The cloth and wood splintered and caved under his touch, the arm breaking off with a crunch. His head came up and his other hand jerked forward, reaching out for Peter. Peter jumped up and into the chair, out of reach. Mark’s hand shot in and a flash of blue appeared as he touched Brady’s arm.