by Sara Etienne
Every horrible, lonely moment of my life, flashing through my brain. I cried out, struggling to get back in control. To get back into Kel’s mind.
I am Faye. Fear is an illusion. I make my own reality.
I gripped his hand and concentrated on the arrow. The symbol pointing me toward where I needed to go. And I was back at the edge of Kel’s memories. Then, from outside the whirlwind, a chilly darkness pressed in. It wasn’t like the rest of Kel’s mind. It crept into my bones and tore at me.
“Leave!” Kel shoved at me, trying to push me out of his mind.
Not until I get what I came for. I focused on the arrow again as the pressure from Kel’s mind grew almost unbearable. The strange blackness pulling me toward it.
I dug in my heels, thinking of the arrow, refusing to be sucked into the dark.
But maybe that’s the only way. So instead, I let go, letting myself be drawn in. And there, in the darkness, I found myself face-to-face with Kel.
We stood at the top of the hill. Hand in hand. I looked into Kel’s black eyes and realized it wasn’t him. It was the dead boy I’d seen in the grave the night before. Only now he was alive.
His face was different and he was taller. His golden-brown skin radiated power. But the way he looked at me was the same. As if he were seeing all of me and liked what he saw.
“You can’t do this.” His voice was different too, more serious, but it held the same tender confidence. “You don’t have it in you.”
Anger flared inside my chest: he was always underestimating me. Ever since we were kids. “You have no idea what I’m willing to do.”
“Even if it means losing me?” His eyes pulled at me, and my heart shredded.
I looked up and there was the full moon again. It hung low in the sky, being consumed by a blood-red shadow. Afraid, I looked down at the polished talisman in my hand, glinting in the red light. This is The Path.
I dropped his hand. “Even if it means losing everything.”
“No!” Kel’s voice blasted through my brain. It was like someone grabbed me by the throat and whipped me into the air. All the breath was squeezed out of my lungs as I was thrown back into the hurricane of memories and spit out onto the beach.
Kel growled down at me, sunlight glowering behind his head. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
A little late for that. I clutched my tender ribs and gulped for air.
His face was a snarled mix of the face I’d just seen in the vision and Kel’s own exposed one. I was stunned by what had happened. The Kel that was not Kel. The me that was not me. The feelings I’d had for him were the very skeleton that’d held me up. But I’d known that, to make things right, I’d have to destroy him and that it would shatter me. The upside-down Lovers.
Looking at him now, I wanted to hide from him and hold him at the same time. And I wanted to cry for both of us. Instead, I pushed myself off the ground, using the motion to disguise my pain.
My Family moved into a protective half ring around Kel, as if they were daring me to try something. Pushing the panic down, I reassured myself. At least that last vision had finally made something come into focus. The moon.
A lunar eclipse. I understood now. Maybe this was the key. I just needed to get to the library to check, and I knew exactly how I was going to get there.
Carefully stepping around Kel and the others, I strode over to Dragon.
“What do you want?” With a sneer she flipped open the snap on her holster, hand hovering above her Taser. I guess the pepper spray was still fresh in her mind.
It was in mine.
“Just this.” In a single movement, I grabbed the Taser and zapped her with it. As she dropped, I turned and ran.
“Dah-daaah-daah-dah dum-dum.” I sang the Chariots of Fire theme song as I ran down the beach, arms raised and shouting, “Faye Robson triumphs again!”
Seagulls scattered under my flying feet. The wind rushed at my face. I heard the Takers right behind me, but I reached up into the piercing blue sky, trying to pull myself into it.
“Dah-daaah-daah-dah—”
The jolt hit me. In all-too-familiar slow motion, the sky slipped out of my grasp. And I smashed back to Earth.
27
THIS TIME, I found out what the metal ring was for. Nurse sat me against the wall in Solitary and ordered me to pull my knees to my chest, pretzeling my arms through my legs so that my hands were holding the inside of my ankles. I’d never seen her smile before, and the expression looked unnatural on her narrow face. She whistled as she cinched cloth cuffs around my ankles and wrists, securing both sets to the ring bolted to the wall near the floor.
“This is what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you. It bites back. I’m sure Dr. Mordoch will want to talk to you, but I might wait a little while before I mention that I already . . . collected you.” Then she spit in my face and slammed the door behind her.
This wasn’t going according to plan. I rolled my shoulder, trying to wipe the saliva off my cheek. But with the restraints, it hurt to move my arm even that much. My whole body screamed against my cramped position on the cold floor.
Last time I was in Solitary, the water had come for me, but this time it was worse. I felt the waves hovering, like a great shadow in my mind, waiting to crash over me. And this time when they came, I was afraid I’d be washed away.
The words of the tarot cards reverberated off the walls of the tiny room. I closed my eyes and saw the faces. Always the dead faces of my Family staring up at me through the dark.
I wasn’t supposed to be in Solitary. I’d been so sure they’d take me to Dr. Mordoch’s office in the Compass Rose. Just one floor away from the entrance to the secret library. Now I was trapped, while Kel was out there doing whatever he’d been planning.
Only one small line of light filtered through a crack in the door. A crack I’d made last time Dr. Mordoch had locked me in here. My heart slammed against my chest. Hurry. Hurry. But there was nothing I could do.
Time passed, measured only by breaths. It could’ve been ten minutes or two hours. The dark was still dark.
Then the door rattled, and the sun blinded me. Dr. Mordoch came in, bringing a whole new nightmare.
“Why are you doing this to me, Faye?” She knelt down next to me and took my chin in her hand, daring to look in my eyes. I searched hers for clues to what she knew, but they were too muddled. Her breath stank of alcohol, and I tried to pull away.
“You made them hurt you,” Dr. Mordoch slurred, fumbling with her key ring. By the time she managed to unlock my hands and feet, it was very clear that this was a face of Dr. Mordoch I hadn’t seen before. I didn’t dare move. I just sat there feeling the blood pulsing back into my limbs.
“It was my fault . . . all those years ago. I only had one little drink that night, just a nightcap, I swear, but I must have fallen asleep. I don’t even know what happened, I only remember waking up by those hideous statues, clawing at the ground. And your parents too. And others I didn’t even recognize . . . I tried to wake them all up. But they just kept digging, like animals.”
They were trying to reach the talismans.
“Then I saw you walking down to the beach and I went after you. Faye, you were so little and you walked straight into those waves. All I thought about was saving you.” The terror was still alive on Dr. Mordoch’s face.
“All these years . . . It’s all we’ve ever done. Tried to save you.” She looked infinitely sad for a moment. Then her eyes froze over, and she slapped me. “But all you do is throw it in my face.”
Tears sprang into my eyes. The slap was more noise than pain, but my face still stung. More disturbing was Dr. Mordoch’s manic look. She seemed out of control. Desperate.
“She told me to bring you here and I did. There was more for you to do, she said, and I knew we could work through your childhood trauma if I brought you back . . . teach you to function in the world.” Dr. Mordoch panted like an animal caught in a snare.
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“But it wasn’t enough for her, was it? So I gave you extra chances. Looked the other way when you sneaked into my office. But now you’ve crossed the line.”
What else does she know? What else is she hiding?
I tried to back away from Dr. Mordoch, but I was already against the wall. Her voice rose to a shrill howl. “I’m done listening to her and you are done resisting. I will save you, Faye, even if I have to break you first. Do you understand?”
Then she closed her eyes, as if she were in pain. She reached up and straightened her tight ponytail. She nodded to herself.
When Dr. Mordoch opened her eyes again, they were focused, back under control. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll be escorted by a Caretaker everywhere you go. Someone will be watching while you scrub out the showers, while you sleep, while you pee.”
She smiled at me then, tears glistening in her eyes. “I won’t let you destroy this opportunity we’ve made for you, Faye. All of our plans. We’ve come too far.”
I didn’t understand what Dr. Mordoch was talking about. Maybe she didn’t even understand. She was looking right at me, but I wasn’t sure she really saw me.
I nodded, not wanting to set off the crazy again.
“You will stay here in the dark and think about what you’ve brought down upon yourself. Tomorrow morning, I’ll send a Caretaker to collect you.”
Then she was gone. I brought my hand up to my cheek and winced, not because of the slap, but because of my stiff fingers. I flexed them slowly. I straightened my legs. It hurt, but I kept going until I could move again.
I was safe now. Safe from Kel. Safe from Dr. Mordoch. But I couldn’t stay here for long. I needed a plan and it had to be good.
By the time the afternoon light coming through the crack in the door turned amber, I knew what to do. Find the book. Find the answer. Find Kel. I went over and over it in my mind as the sunlight slid across the floor and faded away.
It’s time.
I got up, dusting off my hands, and faced the door. I’d made one chink in the wood, I could do it again. Laying my palms on either side of the narrow crack, I closed my eyes. The boards were rough and splintery under my fingers.
What now?
I thought about touching Kel and Freddy, how I’d relived their memories. I thought about that first day in Solitary, how Kel had said his door was solid, but somehow mine had cracked. And no one else had been able to open their windows, but I had. Even after they’d nailed it shut. How had I done it?
That first morning in Solitary, I’d pounded my fists on the door in sheer panic. But the moment the door cracked had been different. Blood had whooshed through my head. Drums had pounded with my heart. And a strength had shot through me.
I didn’t understand how or why, but for that fleeting instant, I’d felt invincible. Now I imagined that feeling of power flowing down my arms. I pressed my hands against the wood.
I am Faye. I create my own reality.
My fingertips tingled. Surprised, I pulled them away from the door.
Steady.
I tried again, focusing on the exact spot where my skin stopped and the planks of wood began. Heat spread across my palm, and I envisioned power pouring out through my hands and into the wood. The door seemed to vibrate under my fingers. But nothing happened.
I pushed the boards, bracing myself physically and mentally, trying to force my way through the barrier between my skin and the wood grain. My pulse throbbed its insistent beat. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. My whole body trembled, but I was still me and the door was still a door. Exhausted, I collapsed against it.
Then the wood pushed back.
I gave in a little, opening up my mind, relaxing my clenched hands. And the wood pushed a little more.
It was different from what I’d thought. The power wasn’t going from me into the wood, it was the other way around. The power was coming from the door.
The wood grew hot, almost burning, and I tried to pull my hands away, but I couldn’t. It was a little like what’d happened with Kel and Freddy, but this wasn’t so much a swarm or a hurricane of images as it was a surging river of sensation.
I waited on the bank of the strange river, feeling it all rushing by me. The noise was deafening, like standing inside a plane engine. Trembling, I bent down and stuck my hand into the current, trying to understand it. My fingers grew stiff and rough. A vein of energy flowed just under my skin. Then my hand seemed to burst open from the inside. Stretching, reaching out with a desperate longing. The river swelled up around me, swallowing my arm. Enveloping my body. Tugging at my feet. I struggled to stay standing, to remember who I was.
I am Faye.
But the flood of sounds and feelings and textures didn’t care who I was. They pulled me under anyway. I flailed at the surface of the stream, trying to separate myself from it. Trying to pull my hand away from the wooden door. But I was drowning. I gave into it as my head went under the raging current.
Then everything was quiet.
I was standing in warm, green light. I couldn’t see the sky above me, but I knew it was there. Clear and radiant. Wind rippled across my skin, making my entire body shiver. I’d never felt a sense of wholeness like this.
I wiggled my toes deeper into the solid ground and found a cool trickle of water, making me feel bright and awake. And secure.
A small vine wrapped itself around my legs, tickling me. A squirrel chittered and scampered across my shoulders. Cold inched its way into my core and then was gone. Soft rain caressed me, and I fell in love with each prismed droplet.
Then a loud buzzing filled my ears. Jagged, metal teeth ate me alive. This was not the ache of growth, but the searing pain of death. I was falling, crashing through the world, until I thudded on the unforgiving ground.
Now there was nothing beneath my feet, no water flowing through me, no connection.
Then I was here. This door. A lifeless parody of what I’d been. But the wind still brushed my skin. Drops of rain still flung themselves against me. I was still strong.
Until the crack.
Weakness emanated from that spot. The first of the dreaded decay that would eat away at me.
I honed in on that aching gap. Imagining wet winters soaking into the wood. Freezing nights and sunny days, expanding and contracting.
The hole grew bigger.
I envisioned termites munching, slicing me apart in minuscule mouthfuls. Unrelenting storms sheeting down. Wind rushed through the widening hole, making me wail.
The two boards buckled away from each other. The nails rusted and loosened.
Years passed in a blink and my strength disintegrated. I cried out as birds peeled away my splintered flesh with their needle-sharp beaks. Microbes feasted. Time agonizingly sandblasted its way through.
The pair of boards fell away. They were only sawdust and splinters now, littering the ground in front of the Meditation Center. Only air beneath my palms.
I slumped down onto the floor, drained. My head resting against what was left of the door. I closed my eyes, shutting out the unbearable agony of loss.
“I’m sorry.”
28
WHEN I CAME TO, it was still night. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out, but through the gap in the door I could see low lights bordering the path back to the Compass Rose. Wind swirled around in mini-cyclones. I felt its agitation.
My hands shook as I touched the door. It’d been split in two. One half was held up by the hinges, the other by the lock. I tested the remaining wood. It was solid. The door was exactly as it’d been before, except for the two missing slats in the middle. I squeezed through and smiled.
Flexing my hands, a prickle of power shivered through my fingers. This is what my life has been leading to. Tonight.
I needed to find Kel. To stop whatever he was going to do. But first, I had to go back to the library.
I knew the cryptic warnings from the tarot cards were coming true. My stained hands. The red tide. The aut
umn equinox. And something about an eclipse. Maybe if I completely understood what was going on, I could find a way to stop it.
The campus was deserted, with everyone locked away in their rooms. A gust sent the trees shivering against the black sky. Hurry. Hurry.
But so far, there was no “pregnant” full moon peeking through the branches. I still had time.
Rushing through the woods, I paralleled the path to the Compass Rose. I clung close to the trees, pine boughs hiding me in their shadows. Their roots intertwined beneath my feet, and I could feel the water and sap pulsing through them all. Like one giant, magnificent creature.
The same pulse flowed through me, and I felt strong. I wouldn’t let Kel kill my world. I would stop him.
More Takers were on patrol tonight outside the Compass Rose, but the shadows seemed to cling to me. Hiding me from sight. I waited for the right moment, slipped past the Takers, and shimmied up the tree. The branches under my hands spoke, sending memories whispering through me.
A sapling, weak and skinny, taken from the forest and planted in the ground outside a half-built Compass Rose.
A girl, my age, patting down the dirt around young roots.
An eerie silence around the Compass Rose, broken by the steady chanting of monks.
Then spotlights and harsh voices, the constant presence of people and fear and rage.
There was something else there too. Just a trace of the void that swallowed me when I’d touched the dead seal on the beach. A poison deep within the tree that left me queasy and weak. It was a relief to climb through Dr. Mordoch’s office window and leave it behind.
My senses were magnified. Even the quiet of the Compass Rose sounded loud. A Taker paced the wooden porch outside the front door. Another patrolled the forest outside. But the house itself was empty.
By the weak light illuminating Dr. Mordoch’s diplomas, I unlocked the filing cabinet and rifled through the folders. On a hunch, I grabbed the last file of psychiatric evaluations and took them with me. Then I crept out of Dr. Mordoch’s office, down the stairs, and through the secret door in the sitting room. The arrows on the walls screamed at me now.