Flicker and Mist

by Mary G. Thompson

“There is a sensitive spot at the base of the skull,” he said. “Guaranteed to make one flicker.”

  “But why? You had no right.”

  “I heard about your mother,” he said. “I also heard that you had passed the test. But I knew. I could see it in you—​my parents could, too.”

  “Your parents are traitors,” I said.

  “Because they lied?” he asked, seemingly unoffended.

  “I never lied,” I said. “I was a baby when I passed through the gates. It was my mother who took the oath.”

  “I was born here,” said Nolan. “So it’s our parents who are guilty.”

  “No,” I said. “They all had to lie. They’re not traitors. I said it because I’m angry—​you’ve done something to me. I haven’t flickered since I was a child.” I said this last part in the smallest of whispers, as though Hoof might overhear and repeat it.

  “Then they’ve taken something from you,” he said. “They’ve taken away who you are.”

  “You’ve taken something,” I said. “I wasn’t even sure it could happen again.” What if he had triggered my Ability, as my mother feared, and now I would go about flickering like a prezine lamp switched on and off? I didn’t know how to control it.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I didn’t hurt you. The Plats would have to know about the trigger point to use it. Even most of us don’t know.”

  Us. “Why are you here, anyway?” I snapped. “They’ll catch you.”

  He laughed. “Not likely.” He vanished, then reappeared again. “They can’t place those sensor things everywhere.”

  “I’m not your enemy,” I said. “Or your friend. Why would you care about exposing me?”

  “I’m not here to expose you,” he said. “I wanted to know for sure. You may be the daughter of a Council Member, but now you can’t deny that you’re one of us. We need all the strength we can gather.”

  “One of us who?” I asked. “All the other Lefties passed the test. So it’s just your family and mine.”

  “Maybe,” he said. He knew more than he was saying. I could see it. Had other Lefties passed the test even though they were Flickerkin? I couldn’t imagine anyone being stronger than my mother. If she had failed, surely no one could pass—​no one who hadn’t been given leniency, as I had.

  “You must leave,” I said. “I can’t be caught with you. My family is in enough trouble.”

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to flicker?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “I never want to flicker again.” My mother’s voice filled my head. You must never do it. I hadn’t tried. I hadn’t done it on purpose.

  “Myra—”

  “You had no right,” I repeated.

  “True enough. I’m sorry,” he said. “But you wouldn’t have told me. I need to know who my friends are.”

  “We are not friends. It’s a shame—​a shared shame.” I didn’t try, I told myself. I must still be safe. I looked down at my hands. They were as visible as Hoof, as the stall, as the straw. I was still there. Momma, tell me I’m still safe, I thought.

  “I need help,” he said. He ran his hand through his wild curls, and I noticed that his muscular arm seemed a little thinner. It had been less than a week, but perhaps he hadn’t eaten. Despite my anger, I felt something for him. He had done no more to deserve his fate than I had mine, and he had no protection from a well-placed father or from the Deputy’s son. “I can get food,” he continued. “But being invisible, it’s not as much help as you might think. I can still bump into people. I can’t rest because someone might stumble over me.” He gave a little laugh. “I can’t bathe. Imagine what people would do if they found a tub of water splashing itself?”

  “It’s a good thing we’re in the stables,” I said. “You fit right in.”

  He laughed harder. “Yes, I suppose so. If you would let me stay here . . . Are you the only one who comes into this stall?”

  “The stable boys come in,” I said. “But they have a schedule. You can avoid them.” What harm could it do to let him stay here, as long as nobody found out? It would be nice to have something I could do other than bemoan my fate. Let the Guard waste their time searching dead ends.

  “Thank you, Myra,” he said. “I knew you were a good person.”

  “If you poke me with that thing again,” I said, “I’ll tell the Deputy about you myself.”

  “Understood, Miss Hailfast,” he said, and he gave a bow. As he leaned toward me, I caught a whiff of the result of all this time without a bath.

  “I think I’ll pass the Games by giving my beast here a good wash,” I said. “I might accidentally leave a bucket behind.”

  He grinned. “That would be a most careless mistake.” As he said it, footsteps pounded on the turf. I turned to see a stable boy hurrying down the passage. When I turned back, Nolan was gone. I took a step backwards, looking at where he had been standing. But there was nothing. Only a pair of footprints in the dirt that might have been left behind by a stable boy. From now on, I could never be sure I was alone.

  A cheer from the crowd carried from the arena. The women riders must be nearing the end of the course.

  Hoof snorted and pawed the ground.

  I didn’t want to go back out there, with everyone staring at me, knowing I had been forbidden to ride. Maybe it would be good for me to learn how to use my Ability. Then no one would see my humiliation. But if I did that, I would be allowing the Deputy and his cronies to walk over me, to shame me out of my own life. I was still the daughter of a Council Member. I was not going to flicker again. I turned back around to face where I thought Nolan still was.

  “I have to go to the box now,” I said. “I’ll come back tonight.”

  “Tell me what fool wins the stone toss,” said Nolan’ s voice.

  “A fool carrying half the weight,” I said. I had no doubt that he had been cheated last year. As had we all.

  From THE BOOK OF THE WATERS

  Of all the sins worthy of Judgment, murder is the most foul. For what the Waters have created, only the Waters may destroy. There shall be no laws of men that permit any death except by Judgment.

  Thirteen

  I DIDN’T LOOK TO MY LEFT OR RIGHT AS I WALKED BACK to the Council box. If people were staring at me or whispering comments, I didn’t notice. A loud cheer went up as I neared the box, and then there was wild clapping and more cheering. I resolved not to listen, tried not to guess what was going on. Then the crowd began chanting a name, and though I tried not to hear it, I couldn’t help it. “Vale! Vale! Vale!” they chanted. My stomach tightened. If anyone but me was to win, it should be her. She was the best rider in the field, and she was my best friend. But I had trained to beat her. I could have beaten her.

  “Miss Hailfast,” said the gatekeeper. He looked only at my face, but I could have sworn he was thinking about my shoes—​the ladies’ boots I was stuck in.

  “Is my father still in the box?” I asked.

  “Yes, Miss,” he said. His eyes were full of sympathy, and I couldn’t take that.

  “Thank you,” I said sharply, breezing past him again.

  “Vale! Vale! Vale!” The box had more occupants now, and all were on their feet, cheering. Even my father was cheering for her. I stood at the entrance for nearly a minute, watching them, until they began to settle.

  “Myra!” My father came over to me. He put an arm around me. “Are you all right?”

  “Perfect,” I said. I stared at Gregor, who was now on the far side of the box, cheering. Bricca was still jumping up and down while her mother clapped in triumph.

  I couldn’t let on that anything had happened apart from losing control of my feelings. Even my father couldn’t know about Nolan. He couldn’t know that I had flickered for the first time since my childhood, either. He still held out hope that the first time was a fluke, that I wasn’t burdened by my mother’s lie. I slipped away from him. He would be ashamed of me if he knew.

  “I’m just going to sit
and watch,” I said. And don’t talk to me, my tone added.

  “Myra . . .” He let me go. I sat in the empty chair farthest from Gregor, the one person my age in the box. That put me in the front corner, unable to speak to anyone but in view of every-one. That should make my mother happy. They would all see that I had come back. They would see every inch of me.

  Down in the arena, Porti was receiving her first-place ribbon. Someone put a bouquet of flowers in her arms, and she stood there in her riding clothes, a towel around her neck, tall and beautiful and flushed from her ride, waving her free arm at the crowd. I watched her numbly. Was it any worse to watch from up here than it had been to watch from a foot away last year? Now I felt as if the event were on a photobox recording, as if I were not here at all. Except that my constrained feet and rebuttoned, choking blouse reminded me that I existed.

  Sky was down there, interviewing the top finishers. He was an especially skinny man with hair that stuck up every which way, making him look always excited. The third- and second-place winners thanked their beasts and their parents. I tried not to listen.

  “And now, Miss Portianna Vale, representing the Head!” Sky said. “How does it feel to repeat your win? I’ll bet your place at the University is a lock now.” He handed Porti the receiver.

  “I am very happy to have proved that I still have the skills to ride the course,” said Porti. Her voice was quiet, but with the amplification, it carried well. I couldn’t help but hear it. “Yet this ribbon is not mine to keep.”

  The crowd chattered. Porti raised her voice.

  “There is one rider who earned her place today but is not here,” said Porti. “I rode this course with her only last week. Before our ride was cut short, she was ahead of me, and I ended up on the turf. Miss Myra Hailfast deserves this.” She raised the ribbon above her head. “Myra, this is for you.” She turned to Sky. “Where I come from, in the Head, there are many Lefties,” she said. “They live and work among us, are taxed equally, are counted as friends. Yes, I wish to attend the University. But only if my friend Miss Hailfast is welcome on equal terms. I do not wish to live in a city where merit is tossed aside for fear.” She handed the receiver and the ribbon back to Sky, who looked as if he did not know what they were. And then she dropped her flowers on the ground and walked past him, crossing the open stretch of the arena.

  The crowd burst into jeers.

  Porti didn’t acknowledge them. She walked straight and tall until she reached the exit and disappeared from view.

  In the Council box, all were silent.

  I fought back tears. I hadn’t been able contain my jealousy, and then she had sacrificed everything to support me. I lost the fight, and the tears streamed down my face. Where was she going? I needed to go after her, to make it up to her somehow. She had done this for me, knowing how much it would anger Member Solis. She might have to leave the city. But now the photobox projector above the arena showed my face. I couldn’t leave with all eyes on me.

  I sat up as straight and tall as I could and lifted my hand to wave. Let them see me cry. I was here, being seen. That was all Momma could ask of me.

  “What a statement!” Sky exclaimed, the photobox moving back to him. “I think that’s a first for the Games, folks. Thank you to all the lady riders for an outstanding opening run. And now, let’s introduce the men!”

  I sat straight as the remaining women left the field and the men appeared. They would start and finish in front of the Council box, and the photobox projectors would let us see what happened along the course.

  Now the men rode out in order of seed, the lowest seed first. All the men looked similar because all were Plat. They were all tall and thin, with dark brown hair and tanned skin. They sat up straight on their fine beasts and waved at the crowd.

  Ten riders had qualified at last month’s trials. Orphos came out fifth, and the box behind me erupted.

  “Stal-i-amos!” Orphos’s parents and Gregor shouted.

  I couldn’t bring myself to shout, but as I clapped for my friend, Porti entered the box. She passed in front of everyone and sat next to me.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “I almost didn’t ride,” she said. “I shouldn’t even have ridden.”

  “No, Porti.” I embraced her. “What you did—​it means every-thing.”

  She wiped away a tear. “Let us cheer for the boys,” she said. We stared down into the arena. I was crying, but with her next to me, I felt stronger. I was no longer alone.

  In second seed, Caster rode out. He led Monster around at a prance, and I clapped, and my heart ached. I thought he smiled at me, but I couldn’t be sure. In the arena everyone seemed to be looking at everyone.

  The starting flag waved, and the riders were off. The men’s course was a fine mix of obstacles, revamped since the day we had trained together so that the competition course would be fresh. There were races and a moat crossing to the island, and jumps of varying heights. First there was a flat-out race from the starting point to the high wall. This could be the most important leg of all, because only one rider dared take the flying leap over the wall at a time. Caster sped ahead of the rest, leaning over his beast’s head.

  Behind me, the Council cheered.

  Caster’s beast, Monster, was huge, larger than the average competitor. His horns were long and thick. They stuck out from either side of his head above his ears, coming to sharp and deadly points. His powerful legs pounded against the ground, and right before he reached the wall they propelled him into the air. On the ground the giant beast looked—​and was—​heavy enough to crush four men, but now he soared weightless through the air. Caster leaned flat against his beast, appearing like a hump growing from Monster’s back. They cleared the wall by nearly a foot.

  The crowd burst into cheers, and the large photobox projector screen above the arena switched on. We saw Caster racing away from the arena toward the lake. Two other riders took the wall and then Orphos. Everyone behind me was cheering, and I found myself caught up in the chase, leaning over the edge of the box, even though the screen was positioned so that all could see.

  The rider behind Caster had nearly caught up, and they leaped into the moat side by side, Caster splashing a huge spray over the other’s head. How I wanted to be out there! My hands gripped the sides of my chair. To feel the water flowing, the beating of the beast’s shoulders beneath my chest. Soon they would go under—​now! Caster and the beast disappeared as he and the second rider began the journey under the moat wall. With an immense shake of water, they both appeared on the other side and swam for the island. The rest of the pack was close behind. Orphos was fighting a boy from the Neck for third place.

  Out of the water and dripping wet, Caster sped for the next jump, an uneven hedge topped by vicious brambles. He was beginning to pull ahead again, but the other rider surged forward and cut him off, taking the jump wildly and too short. His beast stumbled and recovered, but that allowed Caster to fly past him as Orphos pushed ahead of the Neck boy and took the leap. Orphos’s beast, Shrill, landed on four feet. Then the ground exploded beneath them, spewing dirt and debris into the air. I could see neither boy nor beast.

  Porti and I stood as one, craning to see anything on the screen. The crowd shouted, and people all around the arena jumped to their feet. I grabbed Porti’s hand.

  No noise came from the island—​the photobox did not capture sound. There was only the crowd screaming as the dust cleared, and when the scene was revealed, Caster was off his beast, kneeling over someone on the ground. I couldn’t see who it was. The rider who had been in second place was half standing next to his beast, hanging on for support. Caster raised his face to the photobox, and I felt as if he were looking me right in the eye.

  “Dead,” he mouthed.

  Fourteen

  BEHIND ME EVERYONE WAS SHOUTING, asking each other what Caster had said. Orphos’s father rushed forward to the edge of the box. “Where is he?” he yelled to the arena. Orpho
s’s mother came up next to her husband and hung on to him in tears.

  Porti clung to me.

  On the screen, the photobox focused on Caster, revealing the face and shoulders of the man he was kneeling over. It was Orphos. He had been torn apart, his shoulders separated from his torso. Blood covered everything.

  Porti screamed—​a cry of pure anguish. She let go of me and took off for the exit. This set everyone in motion. Orphos’s father grabbed his wife and they ran after Porti, and Gregor ran after all of them, and the rest of the occupants of the box were all crying or yelling. I should have run after Porti, I thought. Orphos was my friend, too. But I was frozen in place, staring at the screen, watching Caster leave Orphos’s body and go to the rider clinging to the beast. He steadied the other competitor and helped him to the ground. Then medics swarmed the scene, pushing Caster out of the way, and I lost sight of him. I should run and find him, I thought. My feet were about to move, but then I realized that it might not be good for Deputy Ripkin’s son to be seen in public with a half-Leftie who had just been jeered by the entire city.

  Orphos was dead.

  My father stood next to me. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist. “What could do this? Who?”

  “We’ll have to find out,” he said.

  “There is very good security before the Games,” said Member Solis from behind us. “The entire arena is swept.”

  “Obviously not so well,” said my father.

  “Perhaps someone set an explosive after the inspection,” said Member Solis.

  “A trusted man?” my father asked.

  “Or an invisible one,” said Member Solis.

  My father stiffened.

  “There are no Flickerkin in New Heart City,” I said.

  “None at all?” said Member Solis, raising an eyebrow. “I’m told there are three in our jail and one known to be on the loose.”

  “My mother is innocent,” I said. “As for the boy on the loose, don’t you think he’s back in the Left Eye by now?” I was surprised at the easy way the lie rolled off my tongue. My parents had taught me that I should always be honest even when it pained me, in every detail except for our one secret. Now that secret was expanding, and I didn’t know how much bigger it would get.