Cornerstone 02 - Keystone

by Misty Provencher

  And there she is. Her little eye stares right at me.

  I figure she’ll slam the door shut, but she doesn’t. I wonder what is going on in her head. If she looks at me and sees murder. If she thinks that I had something to do with killing my mother. Why the circle didn’t heal her fear of me. I wonder if she thinks any one of the hundred thoughts that I think everyday.

  And all the thoughts whirlwind in my head until I hear her tiny voice.

  “I don’t miss Daddy and Evanchline anymore,” she whispers to me. She blinks, waiting for my response and I finally get it, when her little eyes drop to the floor and a fat teardrop rolls off her cheek. She was healed of missing them, but now she’s sad about not missing them.

  “Me either,” I whisper back. “But it’s only because they’re still with us.”

  I hold up the cookie and she blinks out another tear. Then her tiny, dimpled hand reaches through the opening and takes it. She doesn’t say anything else, but she lets me watch the thin strip of her face as she eats the cookie. I can tell she’s chewing, by the way her eye scrunches and the plume of her ponytail flutters with each bite.

  “Well,” I hear Addo say and I look away from Iris. “Whatever we’re dealing with, it looks as though we’re all still adrift in the same inflatable dinghy for now. So we need to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves,” he glances to me and then at the door that Iris hides behind. “We need to get all hands on deck.”

  “Agreed,” Zane says, jumping to his feet. “C’mon Nali Girl. Let’s get upstairs and get you on board.”

  The ends of my hair drip. Zane’s shows me how to activate my field and how to separate myself from my fear so my field will stay up, which would’ve been super helpful when his Free Ball got us stuck on a tree. He shows me how to search for an opponent’s hidden Cavis and how to hide my own in a dozen different ways. And I’m so far beyond tired that I imagine my knuckles dragging on the training mat. My muscles are as shot as the elastic in century-old socks.

  But Zane says, “Again.”

  And Garrett doesn’t stop him.

  And I’m not going to be the one that does.

  It’s just the three of us in the gym, since Nok and Addo are hanging with Iris and Sean offered to entertain the girls in the Courtyard until we’re through. Even though I doubt Sean would ever allow it, the idea of Zaneen possibly gaining access to my apartment crossed my mind the minute they left the gym. I imagined her snooping through my apartment, judging me on how I left my new clothes on the dresser instead of putting them in the drawers. The anger of it made me strike out at Zane with everything I had.

  But now, after two hours of non-stop training, I’m fried, and I couldn’t care less if Zaneen is up there taking a nap in my underwear drawer. I don’t care about anything, besides being able to breathe and getting a prediction of when this training session will be over.

  But I activate my field again, like Zane wants me to, and just like always, it explodes with the energy of a cheerful puppy. When I stand back from my body, I can see how weary I really am, even though my bones still move, powered by instinct. My shoulders slouch; my hands hardly scoop away my Cavises or jab Zane as fast or effectively as they should.

  I watch my heart Cavis drift up from my hip like a slow-moving smudge, and Zane waits for it to get close to alignment. He strikes. I manage to get out of the way, but I move with the finesse of spilled pudding. Zane withdraws, before he actually hits my Cavis.

  “Game over,” he announces. I back away from him, three steps, until my back hits the gym wall. I flatten up against it, gulping air. Zane wipes the sweat off his own lip with his fist.

  “You’re only moving your Cavis is one direction, Nali Girl,” he says. “Can’t do that. Wanna hear why? Again?”

  I shake my head no. I really, honestly, can’t make myself care any less.

  “C’mere and I’ll show you instead,” Zane says. Garrett perks up as I push away from the wall and drag myself back to Zane.

  “Show her how, not why,” Garrett warns, but Zane raises an arm and bats the air like there’s nothing to worry about.

  “Gimme your field,” Zane says. I do what he’s shown me, pushing my breath way down inside me while I project my energy outward, and my field explodes.

  “Rule one still applies,” Zane says flatly. “No matter if we’re training or you’re half dead or both. If your field is up, move. Your. Cavis.”

  I scoop the tiny gray cloud wearily toward my shoulder and push it into my opposite arm. It sits like a dirty nicotine patch in my elbow.

  “Here’s a trick,” Zane swipes at me. I duck away, but he keeps coming, his body too close to escape. His energy prickles against mine. I can’t get away. He swipes at my arm, an upward motion. My Cavis bobs along with the draft, bumping toward my shoulder blade. Zane strikes at me again and I’m too busy trying to keep out of his way, to move the Cavis back. Zane swipes at my shoulder blade and the Cavis bumbles further along, across my collarbone.

  “Where’s it goin? You see it?” Zane says. I cup my hand and try to re-route it back toward my elbow—Zane has explained that there’s always supposed to be a fake landing for it, a place where the opponent will think it truly belongs—but Zane comes at me suddenly, with a violent swipe. The air pushes hard against me, so hard it nearly knocks the breath out of my lungs, and the Cavis burbles quickly along my collarbone. One more fast swipe and it drops down over my heart.

  Zane pulls himself away from me and points an accusatory finger at the Cavis.

  “See?” he says, between breaths. “You need to use those combination strikes I showed you, so you are hitting the opponent and moving your Cavis at the same time. You’re getting so caught up in the defense; you’re forgetting the offense. You’ve got to do both at once.

  “And you need to use different paths. You’re moving it across your chest, down your arm, and into your elbow every single time. You’ve gotta mix it up. And you’re not stabilizing the Cavis enough, when it’s in your decoy position. You have to remember to stabilize it. It should be as routine as breathing. Field, stabilize, jab, stabilize, strike, stabilize, move, stabilize. Otherwise, when you’re distracted, the thing will drift off your decoy spot and your opponent will know it’s not the site of your true Cavis. Then they’re going to do what I just did—help that Cavis along, so they can push it back to the real position and nail you.”

  “You use the different paths strategically, so it has the illusion of wanting to move back to your elbow.” Garrett adds. Sweat drips into my mouth. I’m working harder than I’ve ever worked in my life, and I’m still getting it all wrong.

  “And that, Nali Girl, is why we’re here,” he says, dusting his hands together. “But I’m ready to be somewhere else. How about you two? What’s the vote?”

  “I vote yes. Anywhere else would be great,” I say before Garrett can open his mouth. When he does, he laughs.

  Zane and I loop towels around our necks and the three of us go out of the gym, locking the doors behind us. We walk slowly up to the rooms, mostly, I think, because the only way I can move any faster is with a piggyback ride. And since I can’t touch Garrett, it only leaves Zane and glancing at his skinny little self in his skinny pants, it doesn’t even seem like an option.

  “I think I should mention too,” Zane says as we walk. He’s in the middle, but he’s looking at Garrett. “I’m a little proud, but a little concerned that you two broke your streak. You’ve gotta lay off, brother.”

  “What are you talking about?” Garrett asks.

  “C’mon, G. It’s me here. I’m just saying…somebody’s been a bad Contego.”

  Garrett pauses in the hallway. “What are you talking about?”

  “What else would I be talking about?” Zane stops too. They both just stand face to face, staring at each other. Garrett shakes his head slowly.

  “I haven’t touched her.”

  “Oh buddy, you’ve touched her. A lot. The energy doesn’t lie.�
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  “No.” The beginning of a chuckle smothers under Garrett’s single word. “I haven’t. Wait, no, I did. I gave her my hand when we were stuck in the tree.”

  “Casual contact couldn’t have drained her that much,” Zane hoots, spinning back to me. “You’ve got another Vieo, Nals, or is this one fibbing? Who’s been all up on you?”

  “What are you talking about?” My strength suddenly surges back and I want to pop Zane in the mouth. Garrett tips his head to one side, squinting as he looks at me, but he still answers Zane first.

  “There is no other Vieo. We haven’t even been apart since the library.”

  “Then quit yankin’ my chain,” Zane laughs and slugs Garrett’s shoulder, but Garrett doesn’t laugh. It sounds like Zane is accusing us of more than touching and I’m annoyed and infuriated and embarrassed. Especially considering how bad I crave even one of Garrett’s fingertips to brush my face and he hasn’t even gotten close enough to breathe on me.

  “I’m not,” Garrett says. “We haven’t touched since we were all stuck in the tree. I only healed a couple of her scratches. What did you see?”

  “You sure about that? Her energy was really sagging.”

  “Um, we’ve kind of been running for our lives a lot,” I snap. “Not to mention blowing through a barn roof on your Free Ball. Oh, and I’ve been busy saving your skinny butt from blowing away in the wind. Oh, and then the last two hours of training. Sorry if I’m a little tired.”

  Zane just laughs. He laughs and laughs and when he’s done, he wipes the corner of his eyes and begins again.

  “Good times,” he laughs. “But running a marathon and saving my skinny rear still wouldn’t have drained you like that. It’s not the same as the way a Vieo drains you.” Zane says and he turns to Garrett. “So, you for real, G? ‘Cause if you are, that’s the freakiest hot mess ever. You guys might need to keep even more distance between you. Unless you’re just pulling my chain.”

  “I’m not,” Garrett says, but the frown on his face tells me that we both wish he were.

  “Sounds like a party,” Zane says when we reach our room doors. The laughter and whooping spills into the hall from Garrett and Sean’s apartment.

  “You look beat and I’ve got to go up and guard from the roof in about a half hour. Did you just want to call it a night?” Garrett asks as he keys in his combination to let Zane in. I peek inside and get a glimpse of Mark, Brandon, and Zaneen, tossing grapes in the air and catching them in their mouths. Zaneen misses when the door swings open and she squeals, “Garrett’s here!”

  I will never need to sleep. I thought we were done with this.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower and I’ll come over for a little while,” I say, but when I move to open my door, Garrett is right behind me. I can feel him standing close enough that he could wrap his arms around me and send sparks up my back. I turn to see for sure, but Garrett is about three feet behind me. Maybe Zane is right after all. If it feels like Garrett’s skin is layered on mine, even when he’s more than an arm length away, maybe we will have to keep more distance between us.

  And when my eyes meet his, I see the flash of recognition too. He takes another step back and I turn away, keying in the code and shoving my door open. I will never agree that Garrett should stay further away from me. The thought of it makes me want to curl up on the floor and cry.

  “How long will training take?” I ask. Garrett catches the door, but he waits until I’m down the hall, till there’s no static acknowledgment of him on my skin, to come in. He looks as miserable as I am, but he still stands back.

  “You’re doing great,” he says.

  “Which means I’m not doing well enough that you can tell me when it will end,” I say. I step into the bathroom because I’m at the end of my rope and I just want to go inside and cry out my failure. But before I close the door, Garrett is there with his hand on the knob.

  “Nalena,” his voice dips into the soft tone that usually pulls the strings of my heart and makes it dance. But now, it feels like it’s just dragging me along. “It’ll be worth it. I swear. I wouldn’t agree to it either, if it wasn’t true.”

  “I hate this.”

  “Me too.” He frowns and takes a step back, pulling the door closed softly, but then his voice seeps through the cracks.

  “It’ll be over soon,” he says. I slide down to the floor, leaning my head on the door, wishing it were his chest.

  “If I wasn’t your Vieo,” I say and he hums an encouraging mmm hmm from the other side of the door. “This wouldn’t be so hard, would it?”

  “No,” he says.

  “Then why didn’t you wait until this was all over?” I ask.

  There’s a long pause. So long, that I reach up for the door knob, to let myself out and crash into his arms before he can stop me from touching him anymore. But my knuckles can’t close around the knob quick enough and his voice returns, cracking as he tells me, “I couldn’t.”

  “Why? I don’t understand…”

  “I couldn’t wait,” he repeats. “When you died…during re-Impressioning…when that happened, something happened with me too. It felt like I lost everything in the world, the second you were gone. Everything, Nalena. I didn’t expect that.

  “I tried to reason myself out of it because it didn’t make any sense. I kept thinking, I knew you for what? Two months? It’d be reasonable to be sad, but I felt totaled. There was a whole world of air, but without you there, I couldn’t breathe any of it in. You were gone for eleven minutes—I watched every miserable second on my watch—you were gone and I felt like I was leaving too. I was suffocating.”

  His voice tremors, breaks. I press my hand against the door, feeling his warmth right through the wood. I want to reach right through it like a ghost and wrap him in my arms.

  “And then, you came back,” he says. “My mother shouted it from your bedside. I wasn’t even standing anymore. I was on my knees, on the floor outside your door. I only made it that far, because I’d stopped breathing. I was staring at my watch, watching every second hollow me out some more. But when I heard that you were alive, my throat opened up. I started breathing again. It’s got to sound insane, but I swear I was dying right along with you. And when you came back, you brought my life back too.”

  “I committed myself to you on the spot. I got up and went to the Addo and I insisted he let me commit as your Vieo. I didn’t want you to know, because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. But the Addo mentioned it to Zane’s dad when he was arranging for the Totus. And Ash told Zane so, of course, Zane said something the first chance he got.

  “But you don’t have to accept me, Nalena. You don’t.” Then, with a sad laugh that seems to vibrate the door beneath my forehead, he says, “I sound like a stalker.”

  “I know you’re not,” I whisper to him.

  “I just don’t want you to feel pressured into making a choice, either way. I know you’re only seventeen. You don’t need to be thinking about this stuff anytime soon.”

  “And you’re only eighteen,” I say. I hear his grin when he speaks again.

  “True, but what happened during your re-Impressioning made things really clear to me. I know I want to be with you, Nalena.”

  I throw open the door and he jumps to his feet to avoid touching me, stumbling backward until his back hits my bedroom door across the hall. His eyes are glassy, but when a teardrop rolls down onto his cheekbone, he doesn’t wipe it away. He lets it go, sliding down over his skin, into the hollow of his cheek where my lips fit. It’s as if God made us like perfectly-fitted nesting dolls, me forever kissing him. The tear falls off the edge of his jaw. And all I want—I’d give anything in the world for it…anything—is to kiss the trail from his cheek.

  But we stay where we are.

  For us to be together, for Garrett to have no regrets, for me to know that my place with the Ianua is more than just being someone else’s other half, we need to do this the right way. Apart.
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  Garrett cocks his head to one side, his hair curling into the hollow of his cheek, and he grins. My heart unhinges, springs open. And even though we’re still too far apart to touch, I swear, I hold him anyway.

  Garrett and Sean’s apartment is a mirror image of mine. The minute I walk into the living room, Zaneen lifts my damp hair with the end of her finger.

  “What were you doing over there?” she asks. Garrett ducks in close to her with a smile.

  “Some things are secret, Belladonna,” he tells her. I smile and she rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t seem as ruthless as before. Especially when there’s a knock behind me, on the sliding glass door that opens to the courtyard.

  I don’t even need to see who it is to know who it is, just by watching Deeta’s smile stretch across her face and Zaneen’s eyelids lower two notches. I turn to see if I’m right.

  I am.

  Milo Frangere is right outside the glass door and Deeta nearly hurdles the coffee table to let him in. Robin groans.

  “Party?” Milo steps in after Deeta slides the door open as wide as her goofy smile.

  “Come in, come in!” Deeta squeals. Zaneen holds back until Milo is all the way in and glancing around like a trapped animal, probably wondering if any of us are going to help scrape Deeta off him. He looks from face to face until he finds mine. His eyebrows relax. I’m sure no one will, besides maybe Zaneen, and she’ll give it a while.

  “Where have you all been? The hotel was a ghost town today,” Milo says. The pause hangs a minute too long before Robin says, “We were shopping.”

  Deeta makes an awkward sound, something between a snort and a guffaw.

  “That was the wildest shopping trip I’ve ever been on!” she sputters. Robin shoots Deeta a glare, but Milo zeros in on her and Deeta’s entire body seems to ignite under his gaze. She tips her head to the side and drops her eyelids a little. I think she’s trying to imitate Zaneen. But instead of Zaneen’s sexy, hungry cheetah look, Deeta just looks like she’s drifting into a coma. Milo still grins at her.