by Sarah Noffke
♦
From Bob
Bob and Steve
to Roya Stark
Dear Roya,
I have something I’ve been meaning to share with you and the timing is finally right now, although I don’t know why. It’s an intuition.
I’ve always known we were supposed to find you. Then Trey asked us to seek you out. But when we did, a puzzle piece fell into place for me. I’d been searching for that piece for a long time and had no idea it would be you.
Over a decade ago I had a dream. In this dream I saw a child floating in water. She was beautiful and radiant. The energy from her pulsed through the lake until it built up a current. The child rode easily on these rapids. Then in an instant she was a girl and swam through these waters, allowing it to propel her to a nearby beach. Once there she stood up and the earth buckled under her as if there had been a small earthquake. She wasn’t unnerved by this experience. Instead she stood steady, looking down upon the beach and the water. The lake raged angrily as it rocked the beach. Another quake hit the shore, causing the waters to stir and grow higher. The girl stayed firm, watching as the ground and the waters battled each other. Finally she spoke, “In the end, you’ll thank me for this!” Then the girl became a gust of wind and barreled through the water, breaking all its currents down to nothing. She shot back at the beach, sending the bits of earth that were about to vibrate into a quake into a million bits of nothing. The wind dissipated the storm until the area stood calm and still and at peace.
At the time I didn’t know what the dream meant, only that the girl was of importance. When I met you I was in awe of you for many reasons, but mostly because without a doubt I knew you were the girl from my dream. You’re the wind. I don’t know why and I don’t know how this will aid you, but for a person who knows nothing about where she came from, I hope this helps.
Love,
Bob
I’m the wind?! What could that possibly mean? Is that the element I should align with, like some Native American tradition? I close my email without replying and head back to my room. I know Bob is trying to help, but why right before the mission did he send me an email with some cryptic meaning? And did he mean I looked like the woman in the dream or that he supposed it was me based on his gut? I round the corner, stuck in my current confusion.
“You’re a selfish asshole,” Samara screams, tears in her eyes.
“That’s an easy position for you to take,” Joseph says. “If I knew what was in everyone’s head I’d be passin’ a lot of judgments too.”
“I wish I’d never met you,” she says, taking a step forward, and for a second I think she’s going to push him.
I think he knows this too and backs away. “The feeling is one hundred percent mutual.”
“Why?” she says, tears racing down her face. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m doin’ what I choose,” Joseph says. “You’re choosing how you feel about it. Don’t you see, we all have choices and that’s all we’ve got in life.”
“You’re an—”
“Stop!” I interrupt.
Both of them turn to me, surprised and slightly horrified.
“That’s quite enough,” I say. “It’s obvious Joseph isn’t making good decisions,” I say to Samara. “And it’s obvious that Samara doesn’t agree with how you’re conducting yourself.” I look at Joseph and hold his gaze. “If you survive tonight then you can battle this out for the rest of your lives. However”—I round on the both of them, angrier than I’ve felt in a long time—“do not be so selfish that you choose to put all your energy into this fight when there are better and greater ones. I’m sorry you two are at odds, but find a way to put it aside, if only for a little while, so that we can operate as a team tonight. Look at each other and find that one thing you respect about the other person and focus on just that. Forget the cheating and the rest of it.”
I pause and look at them. They stare blankly at me.
“Do. It. Now!”
Joseph turns and looks at Samara as she stares at him, and for several seconds they’re mostly silent, besides some residual whimpering from Samara. I don’t give them any privacy, but instead watch to ensure they’re doing what I asked them to. After a minute, Samara turns to me with a pained expression. I nod at her. She charges off, leaving Joseph staring at the place where she stood moments prior.
“What is your damn problem?” I finally say. “Are you going to get me killed?”
“Nah,” he says, still not looking at me.
“Well, you should know that if you don’t get your ass handed to you in the Grotte, then I’ll be delivering it in person because I’ve had about as much as I can take.”
“Copy,” he says.
I turn and stride off, knowing I need to take my own advice. I need to respect the people on my team.
Chapter Thirty
The Kevlar uniform fits about like I’d expect a wet suit to feel. Two long pockets have been made along my shoulders for the escrima sticks. Three times I practice reaching and pulling them from their hiding place. Each time the transition feels smoother. My hair cascades down my back and safely covers the weapons. I turn my protective charm on my wrist. The tiny spark shoots from it and up my arm. With a brief glimpse in the mirror I turn and head for the infirmary. I’m ready for battle. Ready to bring Aiden home.
George glances up at me when I enter the infirmary. Everyone from my team is already gathered. Trey and Mae are talking in the corner; both give me a speculative glance. I ignore them.
“I want to say something before we leave,” I say to my team. Joseph’s face is propped in his hand, resting on his other arm. He could put a great deal more effort into looking alive, but that would probably wound his pride.
“Up until recently I thought Aiden’s life meant more than the rest of ours and that’s why Trey put us on this mission.” The Head Official’s eyes urgently dart to mine, a worried look on his face. “It isn’t true though. No one’s life weighs more than another. Trey would send another group if it was you, Samara, or you, Trent, who were abducted. We protect. That’s what it means to be a Lucidite. If something happened to one of you, I’d willingly walk through fire and suffer torment to bring you back. We don’t leave each other behind and we don’t turn our backs when someone needs us most.” Joseph stares at me, remorse swarming in his eyes. “You already realize you’re about to risk danger in order to bring back a valued Lucidite. However, I want each and every one of you to know that I will risk my life to keep you alive until the end of this mission. In return all I ask is that you use your talents to the best of your ability, focus at all times, and support each other. Watch each other’s back as if it were your own. We’re a team and the only way we’re getting through this successfully is together.”
Hardened faces stare back at me. No one says a word for several seconds. Behind them I spy Trey letting out a giant exhale, one reeking of relief.
“Amen, sister,” Trent finally says, breaking the silence. “Even if you won’t get in my bed, I’d still follow you to the end of the earth.”
A smile cracks my serious expression. “Thanks, Trent,” I say, putting my hand out. He covers mine with his own, his dark skin contrasting brilliantly against mine. Joseph’s covers Trent’s. Then Samara’s. And George’s. And finally Pearl’s tiny hand reaches into the center. “Let’s do this. Quickly, efficiently, and successfully. All right?”
“Let’s do this!” the group chants collectively.
♦
I close my eyes, withdrawing my attention from the outside world. For a good three minutes all I think about is the air flowing in and out of my body effortlessly, constantly. It’s Joseph’s voice that brings me out of this meditation.
“I’m sorry, sis.” I open my eyes and turn my resting head to the side. He’s lying on the bed next to mine. “I do love you. I really hope I don’t disappoint you.”
“Me too,” I say. Then I fo
cus on my destination and within seconds I’m shooting through the silver tunnel like a rocket. The air blasts through my hair. It feels good to move and have the freedom that dream travel offers. Instinctively I take a series of right turns and push forward. Then, like a hatch opening I fall out of the tunnel and land softly.
The ground is cold and hard under my feet. I expected this. The air is moist. I expected this. A high-pitched screeching noise splinters the air unexpectedly. I remain stock-still, watching as, one by one, each group member joins me.
We’ve landed in the right room. It’s hard to make out much with only the small fire torches on the wall to illuminate our surroundings. My eyes have nearly adjusted and I’m disappointed to learn Ren is absolutely right, this place is dark. However, it’s early morning and the sun will rise soon. Some rooms in the Grotte have holes where light streams in, providing help. We aren’t to one of these rooms yet though.
I move forward, the slick rock under my feet threatening my balance with each step. Using my hand to guide me I grope along the surface of the wall. The cold limestone is rough and smooth at the same time. I’m the first to autogenerate my body, which takes longer than usual since their model of the GAD-C isn’t as efficient as ours.
While the others generate, I pull the modifier out of my pocket. My conscience wrested with the decision of whether to use the modifier. In the end my sheer desire to live and complete the mission triumphed any moral hesitation. The modifier shines ceremoniously in the darkened cave. First I input the group to be targeted. Each push of the keys feels strange, but I urge my emotions to remain neutral. When the group is accepted I input the message:
The new people in the Grotte belong here.
I’ve never experienced the modifier working. Nothing James said could have prepared me for this moment, I’m certain of that. When I hit the last button the modifier levitates a few inches above my palm, sending radiant warmth in all directions. The space around the modifier glows, then an almost imperceptible charge ripples the air. It sends a shudder down my spine, making every hair on my body stand on end. Without notice the modifier grows dark, then falls back into my palm with a gentle thud, cold and unsuspecting. My eyes jerk up to find George’s. We both share looks of disbelief and astonishment.
I don’t need to pull out the map to know where we need to head next. All five of my team members stand in front of me looking solid, the firelight flickering off their faces.
“Ready?” I say in a low whisper. They all return silent nods. I look at Joseph for a long moment. His sad eyes are trying extra hard to convince me I can believe in him. My faith wavers as I spin around, feeling the slick rock slide easily under my shoe. I brace myself on the wall in time to secure my balance and not wind up on my tailbone.
Right before I start off, I turn back again and face the group. “Shields up.” I concentrate for a brief second, visualizing the greenish gauze net drape over me, ensuring that no one can get to my thoughts or emotions.
Clean, cool air drifts by me as I move into the narrow cave hallway. Torches line the wall every ten feet, but still much of the cave is bathed in darkness. The draft makes the flames dance, creating eerie shadows across the walls. Thankfully the screeching sound has stopped. All I hear now is moving water and Joseph’s heavy breathing. He’s doing the same as me, scanning the upcoming cave area.
Taking a few tentative steps I feel the team move behind me, keeping pace. Wherever I go, they’ll follow. Whatever I say, they’ll do. A bubble rises in my throat.
Ahead the cave splits in a Y. I listen, hearing the sound of dripping water off to the left. Drip. Drip. Drip. That’s the direction we must go. I head off to the left, feeling Joseph at my heels. We keep moving in the dark and cold, my anxiety building as we progress deeper into the network of caves.
I take each step with deliberate force, praying not to slip on the slick limestone. Joseph gasps a second before a figure materializes. I didn’t notice her until she was only a few torches away. A woman of about fifty is approaching quite fast. On her bony frame she wears long ripped fabrics that seem to be tied to each other to construct an interesting ensemble. Her hair looks grayish, maybe mixed with fading red. It’s hard to tell in the darkness of the cave. One thing I’m certain of is her eyes are small, set back in her sunken face. She almost runs into us as we pass in the cave-way.
“Que faites-vous tous ici?” she says, looking flustered. Something flickers on her face and her expression changes to one of understanding instead of confusion. “Oui, zats right. I remember now.” I stare at her, trying not to look scared or lost or any of the other emotions I feel. Her initial look of worry fades instantly as she scans our faces. “Oh vell, it makes sense you’d be ’ere early. We’re grateful for zee delivery.”
I smile. Nod at the woman. And continue past her, hoping she can’t hear my pulse racing.
“But you should know,” the woman says, causing us to halt, “zee infirmary is zee ozer way. You should ’ave taken a right at zee fork.”
A new tension surges into my chest. Behind me, George presses close. Samara grips the hilt of her sword, carefully hidden under a long cape. Joseph steps forward and smiles. “Yeah, we’ve only got to get a quick signature first. Believe the offices are this way, right?” He points in the direction we’re headed. My hand twitches at my side, ready to reach for my weapons. Quickly I scan our surroundings looking for options, not knowing what this woman’s special ability is.
“Vell, of course,” the woman says in a higher pitch than moments before. She flips her matted hair over her shoulder and smiles. Her teeth are black in places, jagged. “Oui, keep heading south and you’ll find zem.”
A gigantic pressure dissipates in my chest. Still my hand presses back until it finds George’s. I squeeze it briefly before continuing to move forward, keeping pace with Joseph on my right.
“That’s the first time,” Joseph whispers so only I can hear.
“First time for what?” I say, moving at a steady speed.
“The first time you’re going to be grateful I’m here. I assure you there will be more.”
“Seriously, right now is not the time to keep score. Teamwork, remember?”
“Can’t fault a guy for gunning for MVP.”
The torches illuminate two stone doors flanking each other up ahead. If I’ve memorized my map well enough then both rooms are offices. One’s Pierre’s. A tentative glance at Joseph strips the arrogant expression from his face. Step by step we close the distance between us and the offices. The glow from the fire paints the space into something sinister. It’s just stone and dirt. And if anyone is behind those doors then facing them brings us one step closer to freeing Aiden.
We don’t pause at the doors, but rather move stealthily past them. Quickly we’re approaching the library up on our right. This marks a huge milestone. Ren wagered that we’d never make it this far undetected. The offices behind us remain sealed and our upcoming path clear. With each step the confidence in me builds. After a week of feeling inevitable doom, it’s a relief for things to go smoothly. My pace quickens and I ignore the slick rock under my feet, managing each step with a new grace. I can already see Aiden’s face when I stroll into his holding chamber and release him from his chains. He’ll be grateful, relieved. And once we return to the Institute we can figure out everything. I’m almost there, Aiden. Hold on.
An urgent hand clasps my wrist. I know instantly whose it is. Freezing in place I say, “Yes, George?” He leans down over my shoulder and whispers, “Allouette is in the library. Waiting for you.”
My blood pauses in my veins. “Me? What?” I say, facing him directly. Even in this cool, damp cave he looks warm. “How?”
“Roya, she’s familiar with your energy. Felt you as soon as you arrived.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, exasperated.
“I didn’t know for sure, but Samara has confirmed it.”
“Shit,” I say in a hush. “It’s probably bec
ause I spied on her while news reporting. Ren said it wasn’t possible, but—”
“No,” George cuts me off, looking sideways at Joseph. “She’s familiar with Joseph’s energy too. Somehow she knows you two. The familiarity is very faint, but still there.”
“That’s impossible,” Joseph says, stepping closer. The library door looms fifteen feet away. I turn back to George.
“Are you and Samara sure? We’ve never met Allouette. I’m certain of that.”
“I’m certain that you have,” George says, his words sounding like a curse. “And Samara says that the resounding message in her mind is that this time she’ll kill you.”
Joseph and I connect, sharing a morbid bond of fates. We mirror each other’s confused expressions.
“Does she know why we’re here?” I ask, returning my sturdy gaze to George.
“There would only be one reason.”
“All right,” I say, calculating our options. “Trent.” I motion for him to join me and he takes George’s position as he shuffles back. I whisper my orders in his ear. A second later his white teeth materialize, contrasting against his dark complexion. He nods once. “All right, team.” I round on the rest of the group. “We’re going to move fast now. Follow my lead and do not turn back. Let’s go.”
One of my tentative steps forward is followed by five more quick ones. Then the noise begins. A barrage of echoes inside the library. Ones that sound like hundreds of objects assaulting a space. I don’t tense from the noise since I know Allouette is the one being attacked by hordes of books all at once.