Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2)

by Sarah Noffke

  Trent has returned, his face three shades paler than it was moments ago. “Hole is secure.”

  “Good.” I regret the order before I give it, but still I force the words out of my mouth. “Take my place here. Help Pearl bring him back.”

  Trent nods, covering my hands with his own and pressing down as I slip mine away. George’s blood drenches my hands like gloves. It’s unreal and wrong. My stomach lurches with the sudden urge to spill its contents. Swallowing the bile, I wipe George’s blood on my suit and turn my attention to the battle I know is ensuing behind us.

  The other five birds. They’re attacking Joseph and Samara, diving at their heads. They’re trained to go after our charms. It wouldn’t take much to slip Samara’s earrings off or pinch Joseph’s bracelet in half.

  Samara parries one bird with her elbow, then pivots and slices another with her sword. It falls to the ground in a heap and convulses. Joseph is seemingly doing pretty well using his fists to batter any of the birds that get too close.

  One of the birds dives for me. I shoot forward, spin around, and send my front leg into the air with my back leg tucked. The flying kick successfully collides with the bird, sending him to the ground. Instantly, before he takes flight, I whip my escrima stick down and smash his head against the rock ground.

  The three of us form a triangle, our backs to each other. We continue to fight the three remaining birds. They circle us, taking turns diving at our heads. Their loud cries pierce my eardrums.

  Then all at once they disappear into the dark cave walls. I take a step back, feeling Samara and Joseph behind me, but not daring to turn around. My bracelet is tight on my wrist and although I know it would be tough to get it off, it wouldn’t be impossible. Only one pin needs to be pushed, then it will split in two and be gone, soaring through the air.

  Everything’s eerily silent. All I hear is a dripping noise. Drip. Drip. Drip. All three birds bolt at us from different directions. I make an effort to block, while also not striking my team members behind me. Lunging forward, I attack one of the deranged crow-like birds.

  Samara catches her breath, while Joseph defends himself against two birds at once. His knuckles and hands are red and bloody. “Hey!” I shout at him. He looks up in time to catch the stick I tossed in his direction. Reenergized by the new weapon, Joseph unleashes a series of swift strikes, knocking both birds down to the stone ground.

  “Get the last one,” I say. “I’m going to check on the others.”

  Relief doesn’t even begin to describe how satisfying it feels to see George sitting up. It’s hard to believe moments ago he was unconscious. I want to run to him, press my hands against his skin to ensure his heart still beats. Morning light cuts across the distance that separates us, casting everything in a hazy glow. Moving as quickly as I can without slipping on the slick stone I trace a path to him.

  The three of them sit by the edge of a pond. George must be washing off the blood. As I get closer I realize he’s not moving. Neither is Pearl or Trent. They sit stock-still, eyes focused to the middle of the pond. I follow their gaze to find something so bizarre I quickly blink to clear my vision. A droplet materializes six feet above the pond, suspends momentarily, then drops onto the water’s surface, casting ripples. Then in the same spot as the last one another drop materializes and falls. And again. And again. And again.

  Even the knowledge that I’m being hypnotized doesn’t allow me to look away. Another droplet materializes in thin air and falls on the water’s surface, creating the most uniquely beautiful ripples. Again my eyes rise up just as a new droplet forms and again I follow it down. Although entranced by the mysterious display, my eyes still blink, my mind still thinks. I admit to the compulsive allure, but deep inside I know I’m in control. The force I need to look away is within me, a locked box only I can access. The key is a thought, which unlocks an indomitable spirit, one that rages forward causing my head to shake suddenly. It’s enough to disrupt my attention from the hypnosis. My eyes jerk away and although I’m queasy and drained, I’m also relieved to have fought back. I’m grounded firmly in myself.

  My relief is short-lived when I spin around and focus on the other three. They’re fully entranced. Their faces slackened, eyes devoid of emotion. How long has this been going on?

  Placing myself between them and the hypnotic spectacle I wave my arms wildly. “Hey! Hey! It’s me! Roya! Look away now!” No eyes flicker from their focal point. Nothing changes. Assaulted by a new fear I clasp George’s shoulders with both my hands, shake him. “Look at me! Fight this! Please!” He moves. My pulse quickens. To my horror George only leans three inches so he can continue staring at the water.

  From the corner of my vision I see Samara and Joseph have been victorious against the birds and are rushing over to join us. “Stay there,” I order. “Watch the door.” The last thing I need is those two spellbound.

  How am I going to break this hypnosis? I can’t reach the droplet. The rippling water, though—it’s a part of the equation. Turning around I ram my hand into the pond, bent on disturbing the effect. Scorching fire attacks. Immediately I retract my hand, which is already blistering from the burn. The water is boiling hot.

  “No! No! No!” I scream, almost cry. I clap in their faces, my burned hand smarting instantly. But I don’t care; I’ve got to stop this. “You’re being hypnotized!” I scream louder than before.

  Pearl cocks her head at me sharply, her eyes lost somehow. A sudden robotic smile. “No, not all of us are being hypnotized,” she says, in a voice that isn’t hers. “Just these two.”

  My heart races. Oh, God! Chase is controlling her now. Devastation rips through me, a wild beast. Now I have an android and two zombies. Heat rises in my head as I stare between George and Trent and Pearl. Ren said only one option was left once Chase controlled someone. But I can’t do that. Won’t.

  A spot of red appears beneath Trent’s nose. Then the blood begins to ooze from both nostrils.

  “Looks like he’s ready to be undressed,” Pearl says, standing up like a robot and teetering over to Trent.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Joseph! Samara!” I yell, never taking my eyes off Pearl. She’s two feet from Trent. “Get over here now!”

  One foot away. Not seeing any other options I lunge forward, sending the escrima stick into Pearl’s abdomen. I knew she was tiny, but not until I assaulted her with a deadly weapon did I realize how unbelievably fragile she is. Her knees buckle and she doubles over, gasping for breath. Strange that even a possessed body knows how to react to pain.

  “Stark!” Joseph bellows, halting beside me, a stunned expression on his face. “What are you doing?” His eyes flick down to my bracelet, tightly clasped on my wrist.

  “I’m not the one who lost my protective charm. It’s Pearl. She’s under Chase’s control.” My words are cold and distant. “Restrain her.”

  Joseph and Samara each seize one of her rail-thin arms. Pearl tugs wildly between the two of them, her movements doing little to free her. “Please let me go,” she says with a persuasive whine. “I’m fine. Seriously. He’s gone now.” Her voice still doesn’t sound like her own, it’s more pinched, more deliberate.

  Joseph and Samara exchange uneasy looks. “Hold on to her. Don’t let her go, no matter what,” I say firmly. “I have to help these guys. They’ve been hypnotized.”

  A chill runs down my spine when I turn my attention back to George and Trent. Blood now pours out of both of their noses. It’s leaked down past Trent’s chin, snaking its way to his neck. George, who doesn’t have much blood left to lose, is the color of copy paper.

  This isn’t good. Are they going to die in front of me? Is there nothing I can do? Ren said that to break the hypnosis the illusion had to be stopped. But that’s impossible. The droplet is out of reach and the pond boiling hot.

  Drip. Drip. Drip. The silence between the drips makes it impossible to think. Watching Trent and George slowly sink further into a comatose st
ate arrests any focus I have left. Drip. Drip. Drip.

  “Damn it! We have to find a way to stop this.” I turn, seeking refuge from Joseph and Samara. Doom plummets to the bottom of my stomach. They can’t help me. In unison Joseph’s and Samara’s eyes rise up, watch the droplet form, and then trail it down, like a cat following a string in the air. They’re entranced. Pearl stands free, her hands by her side, like a soldier robot.

  Drip. Drip. Drip. It’s the leak from a faucet in a sleeping house. I’m the only one awake and it’s driving me mad!

  “Joseph,” I say, a scared hiccup in my throat. “Wake up.” As I suspected his attention doesn’t waver from the illusion. Moment by moment I know he’s sinking deeper away. His vibrant eyes are empty, stuck in another world. One I don’t know how to pull him back from. One that’s quickly sucking the life out of the people I love.

  “NOOOOO!” I roar, a new rage taking shape inside me. The Voyageurs abducted Aiden, mutilated George, possessed Pearl, and now are going to suck every bit of consciousness from the people in this room.

  “No,” I say again, a cold firmness in my voice. Hot winds battle inside me, burning everything until I can’t take the pain any longer. I stare at the pond, the object that will destroy everyone around me. “No,” I say in a clipped whisper. Maybe I didn’t understand Bob’s words before. Maybe I don’t believe them now. But engulfed by my powerful rage this idea feels right: I am the wind.

  With everything I have left I push an energy, raw and ancient, out of me. It stirs a gentle breeze, one that rustles my hair. I encourage it, feeding it every emotion within me: hate, fear, desire, love. A force the size of a gale unleashes inside me, pulling my chest skyward like something is being sucked out. For a second I believe my toes will come off the ground as the last bit of power barrels out of me. Blinding white light explodes in front of my vision.

  Around me the wind howls. Angry. Vengeful. Using my emotional turmoil I ignite it to greater speeds, urging it to rip apart this cave if that’s what it takes. Yes, blast everything, sweet wind. Destroy everything, even if that means destroying me. My vision clears to a storm of dust and water spinning horizontally around me, but my hair and clothes remain still. A cursory glance around confirms what I instinctively knew: I’m in the eye of the storm. I am the storm.

  I thrust the storm forward. As it moves, it sweeps my hair around my face, stroking me like soft sandpaper. I cover my face from the debris unleashed by the powerful winds. When its gusts fade I open my eyes to the most stunning sight.

  There in front of me, at exactly my height, is a cyclone. It hovers in place for a moment before ripping through the pond, spraying water all over the walls of the cave and the nearby banks. The illusion of the droplet can’t be seen through all of the wind’s disruptions. Still furious, I roar so loud that my chest vibrates. My cyclone shoots forward and bursts into a pile of rocks sending it in all directions. The pond doesn’t exist anymore. Its water has exploded onto the nearby stones and walls. The hypnotic illusion is gone. Destroyed.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  All at once exhaustion crashes down on me. My legs give way, sending me to the stone ground where I can barely hold myself up on all fours. The power it took to harness the wind drained every last bit of energy I have left. Ironically the breath I need so much to survive is almost too taxing a chore for my lungs to perform. I close my eyes to an inky-black darkness. It’s vast. Swallows me. Traps me in a blind prison. Seeps the tiny bit of energy I have left.

  And then a spark. So small. Again it flickers across my vision, like fire. With a sudden renewed energy I raise my head. My eyes burst open to the one sight I never thought I’d see again. Crouched before me is Joseph, a tired look of concern on his face. His hand reaches out, touches my forehead. And warmth, like sunlight, flows into me, revitalizing my depleted reserves. A trace of a smile tugs on his lips. “Thanks,” I say, my voice shredded.

  “My energy is yours,” Joseph says, an earnest generosity in his eyes.

  The rest of my team is soaking wet and moving, albeit slowly. They look disoriented and slightly burned from the water, but they’ve been released. All of them but Pearl, who’s back in frozen robot mode.

  Rising, I move to George’s side. He’s rubbing his eyes, smearing blood all over his already battered face. I begin pushing away some of the blood from his eyes with my fingertips. A quiet, intimate moment passes where I communicate something deep, not caring if his ability has returned yet. This emotion isn’t for him. It’s one I need to feel. Not taking my eyes off George I say, “Hey, Joseph.” He doesn’t respond, but I sense my brother at my shoulder. “Watch Pearl at all times.”

  “K,” he says, shuffling behind me.

  “Are you all right?” I ask George, a tenderness tightening around my heart.

  He shakes his head, looking at me but seeming blind. “I don’t know.”

  I cup his face. He’s fragile somehow. “You will be all right.”

  I spy Trent over his shoulder, looking not as far off, but still confused.

  George grimaces, his hand grasping his side. “Pearl fixed you, right?” I ask.

  “Kind of,” Trent answers for him.

  I don’t ask permission, but instead pull up George’s torn armor. The wound is mostly sealed, but still bleeding.

  “She was half done when we got pulled away,” Trent explains, joining me. “She’d sealed up his leg and some of the more serious lacerations on his neck, but she didn’t finish with that one.” Trent shoots George a faint smile. “I’d take it easy if I were you.”

  “I’ll try,” he says, breathing through the pain.

  “I want you out of here,” I demand.

  “No,” he says, gritting his teeth.

  “Our healer is gone. You need attention now.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Don’t argue with me,” I whisper two inches from his face.

  “How will you find Aiden without me?” he says.

  My mind dead-ends in frustration. He’s right. We don’t know exactly where Aiden is and without George’s empathesis I’m not sure we can locate him quickly enough. I ease back on my heels, my heart thundering. There has to be an alternative other than risking George’s life to save Aiden’s.

  “You’ve lost a lot of blood. There’s only one cure for that,” I say.

  He pushes himself up with great effort. “But I’m still fine.”

  “Trent.” I turn to him.

  “Yeah, boss,” he says, looking a million times better than he did five minutes ago.

  “Keep an eye on this one.” I motion at George.

  Samara and Joseph stand rigidly beside Pearl. Thankfully they hadn’t been under the hypnosis for long. Still, Joseph gave some of his energy to me, meaning we’re both weak. With over half the team injured and depleted we need to find Aiden and get out of here…before it’s too late. My eyes flick to Pearl. In her present state I’m not sure I can send her back to the Institute. Nothing from my training covered this. With Chase controlling her I’m uncertain what risks she poses once inside the walls of the Institute. And once he knows how to enter our walls, will we ever be safe again? I’m not sure if I can allow her to return. The idea scorches my heart with instant guilt. How can I banish her here? Is that better than what Ren would have me do?

  From the other side of the room echoes a weak cough. All our heads snap in that direction. A short young man limps along the stone floor, a contorted hand pinned at his chest. He wobbles through the sunlight portion of the room and toward us. His jawline is uneven and the hair on his head grows in patches. I assemble the group behind me, although I’m not sure why. I don’t feel the least bit of fear from this weak and feeble creature.

  Only a few feet from us, he stops. Wheezes. “Since nothing I have done appears to stop you, Roya, then I think we only have one more option.” The man looks at me with crossed brown eyes. Strangely, he doesn’t have a French accent. Doesn’t have an accent at all. Eac
h word is pronounced with an odd precision. “Let us try talking.”

  I have a hard time believing this tiny man is Chase. Somehow I pictured him differently. Strong. Healthy. Older.

  “I don’t want anyone to die,” Chase says, forehead wrinkling. “You must know that. We both have goals and maybe if we sit down and discuss them we can find an option that pleases both parties.”

  I study him, watching every mannerism, dissecting his sincerity. “Aiden is fine,” Chase offers. “You know it was his choice to come here? He has discovered a happy life as a Voyageur.”

  Something is wrong about this, but I can’t figure it out. What’s the trick here?

  “You don’t believe me, your face tells me that much. The Lucidites have brainwashed you to fight us, but is that really what you want to do? I truly don’t want to fight,” the man says in his strange voice. “The Lucidites always want to battle us, when all we want is to work together. Don’t be like them.”

  His words strum a note, one I resist to label persuasive. Still, what if I’ve perceived everything wrong? This is the complete opposite of what I’ve been taught. But I’ve been taught by the Lucidites. What if it’s true? Studiously apprising Chase, I realize I don’t fear him. What’s more, something compels me to believe him. As he tries to focus his crossed eyes on me I realize I pity him, like a lonely, elderly man in a mental hospital.

  “Come and sit and we’ll talk,” he says, gesturing to a set of rocks. “It’s time we acted civilized, don’t you think?”

  Uncertainty squirms around my mind. Not letting him out of my sight I gauge my group. Their uniform faces tell me they harbor the same hesitation. “Joseph,” I call, standing at my back, “keep a guard on Pearl?”