by Sarah Noffke
Unflustered, Trey welcomes us into his office. It’s as drab as the last time we were here. “You both may have as much time as you like,” he says, walking behind us and sitting at his desk.
“I just had a dream. I witnessed certain events from the past,” I say, looking directly at Trey. His expression grows hard as I speak. “I need to know if the information I learned is true.”
“What is it?”
“Pierre, one of the cofounders of the Institute, is our grandfather, isn’t he?”
Trey rests both elbows on the desk, rakes his fingertips over his eyebrows multiple times. “You have quite the knack for picking up on information, don’t you?” he says with a frustrated laugh, although I don’t think he feels it’s the least bit funny.
“So it’s true?” I say.
He delivers his answer to the far corner, like it asked the question. “Yes.” Trey should be talking, explaining himself, but he isn’t. He keeps his eyes pinned on the corner, like some imaginary force is there advising him on how to proceed.
“How could you not tell us this?” I finally say, breaking the silence. My tone is quiet, but sharp. “You made us break into this man’s headquarters. The Grotte. We could have been face-to-face with our grandfather, killed him, and not have even known,” I say, drawing out the last word as the implications sink in fully. “I want you to tell us everything and I want you to tell us now.”
“Roya,” Trey says, voice steady, “I’ve cautioned you before about the truth. It won’t set you free. It will weaken and disarm you. Don’t ask for something that will only weigh you down.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I say, matching his tone, but through clenched teeth. “Why don’t you let me decide for once?”
“Because you’re not in that position.” He looks off, pigments of his skin flushing red in places.
“I’ve almost died for this place…twice, and you can’t be straight with me?” I lean across the desk, daring to separate us by inches. “Your deceptions make me ashamed to be a Lucidite.”
His turquoise eyes flash with coarse surprise. “You don’t mean that.”
“You leave me no other way to feel,” I say.
“Then that’s how you feel. You don’t need to know any more than you do, even if it makes you hate the Institute.”
I stand up, almost toppling the chair behind me. “And therefore I have no legitimate reason to stay in this hellhole.” His face drops into one of sudden horror, but I don’t study it long. Joseph tries to grab for me, but I swish past before he has a chance. The button for the door is inches away from my outstretched hand.
“Stop, Roya!” Trey commands.
I freeze. Glance at him over my shoulder. He’s leaning over his desk, hands pinned on it. “Pierre is your grandfather,” he says. “It was my relationship with your mother, Eloise, that broke up Flynn and Pierre.”
I turn and dissect him. Angry eyes like blades cut him open. “You said our mother was a Middling.”
“He lied,” Joseph says, not glancing at me, but rather staring at the floor in a daze.
Trey nods. “I did lie, but I’ll tell you the truth now, if you stay at the Institute.”
“I want the whole truth.” I take three steps back in his direction, leaving a good three feet between us. “None of this ‘that’s as much as you get to know’ bullshit. I’ll stay if you answer everything.” I stare at him with a hard expression and hope this translates to confidence. “And I do mean everything,” I finally add, noticing his right eye twitch.
“Sit down, Roya,” Trey says, as he takes the seat again at his desk.
I remain frozen, uncompliant.
“Yes, all right.” He nods and looks down at the blank contents of his desk. “I’ll tell you everything, but I want you to live at the Institute for two more years.”
“What?! That’s too long.”
“You’ve been gone too long. That’s the least amount of time I’ll settle for.”
“NO! A year. That’s as long as I’ll stay.”
“Then you won’t get the truth from me.”
This is a wrench and we both know it. As I stare at him, trying to gauge his determination, I realize we’re playing a game. He holds half the chips and he’s willing to make me go all in to get what I really want. I don’t blink for a good minute while I match Trey’s expression and try to determine my next move. Finally, I take the seat again next to Joseph, this time sitting all the way back, crossing my legs casually. “That’s fine, because Zhuang plans on killing us all anyway.”
“You won’t be here to kill, remember,” Trey says, offering me an equally casual smile. “We’ll take care of him and you and Joseph can return to the Institute.”
I nod, willing to wager this bet. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.” I turn and flash a smirk at Joseph, but he’s not looking the least bit amused by my negotiation skills.
Behind me the ventilation system clicks on, followed by a steady flow of cold air on my neck. “Your mother,” Trey begins in a clinical tone, “as you’ve learned, was Pierre’s daughter. My father, Flynn, and Pierre founded this place in the 1970s after the US government abandoned it. Flynn had already secured the appropriate technology at that time in order to keep the government from coming back and taking ownership of the property.”
“The modifier,” I say.
“Yes,” Trey confirms, intertwining his fingers. “Flynn was in favor of technology, which was the first rift between the two founders. They also didn’t have the same vision for the Lucidites, but they had complementary powers and a lifelong friendship. Flynn thought the Institute should have three missions: research, reconnaissance, and protection. Pierre thought the Institute should have only one mission: power. The two were able to balance their interests for the good part of almost two decades.” Trey draws his fingers apart and pulls one hand up to his protective charm. He fingers his medallion through his thumb and forefinger. “I’m not sure what you saw in your dream, Roya, but here’s what happened. Elle had been living here for quite some time. She was raised at the Institute, which was one of the main reasons she didn’t want this for you two. I spent most of my developmental years at a Tibetan temple, raised by Buddhist monks. When I entered young adulthood, Flynn asked me to come to the Institute and consider taking on some of the work he’d pioneered. This is when I came to know your mother. We fell for each other instantly.”
From beside me Joseph shuffles his feet. Trey’s attention is briefly caught by the nervousness before he continues. “Although we asked Flynn to keep this a secret, he refused. He thought if he approached Pierre about it that he would be reasonable and accepting. Elle warned my father this wouldn’t be the case, but Flynn thought he knew Pierre better than his own daughter. He was wrong.” There’s a quiet regret in Trey’s eyes. “When Pierre found out about our relationship he became enraged. He went to Elle and forbade her to see me, but she was already pregnant with you two. She told Pierre and he did everything he could to terminate her pregnancy.”
Trey tightens his mouth, hesitates. A sorrowful shudder rips through him. “Somehow she was able to get away from Pierre. When she showed up at my door that night I had no idea how she’d survived his attack. I was certain that Pierre had succeeded in killing our baby, since at the time we didn’t know she was carrying twins. Elle wouldn’t allow Mae to heal her broken ribs, her concussion, or the bruises around her throat where Pierre had almost succeeded in strangling his daughter. She made Mae center all of her powers into saving her child. That’s when we learned there were two of you. It was a surprise, one we couldn’t enjoy at the time like we wanted to,” he says with a smile suffocated by pain. “Your hearts were barely beating on the monitor but we knew for certain we heard two. Throughout that night I listened as Mae worked and with each hour your heartbeats grew stronger.
“I’d never seen my father more sickened with hostility,” Trey continues after taking a short, replenishing breath. “My own mother
died giving birth to me and I know that night brought back emotions he hadn’t visited in decades. The next morning all his loyalty to Pierre had vanished. He never apologized to Elle for betraying her secret to her father but what he did was more meaningful. Before Elle and I left the Institute the next morning Flynn spoke his last promise to her, for he never saw her again after that. He promised that he would do everything in his power to protect you two. As you know, Flynn died trying to find and kill Zhuang, because he knew that he couldn’t allow you, Roya, to do it. He was a man of his promises.”
A volcano of emotions erupts inside of Joseph. It almost makes me double over. Guilt like lava pours through him, but to his credit his face remains stone, only marked by stress that could be excused to the torrent of information we’ve just received. I want to reach out and take his hand, but I keep mine folded in my lap. Flynn, our grandfather, spent the last bit of life keeping his promise to our mother. And Joseph killed him. The poetic injustice sears my soul. I can’t imagine being Joseph right now, having to deal with unforgivable actions.
“After watching the brutality Pierre showed his own daughter, Flynn made a decision to wage a war against him,” Trey says, like reading a story out of a book. “This is exactly what happened when Pierre realized that Elle had gone missing. Flynn was one step ahead though. He lured Pierre in physical form to the desert. My father confronted him about all of his concerns: Pierre’s unhealthy craving for power, his abuse to his daughter, and his resistance to advancements. He told Pierre things needed to change and asked him to come up with his terms for negotiations and they would both meet in one hour in the Institute to discuss them. Flynn disappeared, knowing Pierre would take his time to form his demands.” Trey pauses for a second to breathe. He’s been speaking nonstop for more than a minute.
“Once Flynn returned to the Institute he activated the security that we now have in place here. As you both know, you cannot dream travel directly to the Institute. The only way you can gain access now is if you’re fully submerged in water in physical form. This was an idea that Flynn had from the beginning, but never shared with Pierre. He executed this plan while Pierre was in the desert and when his partner tried to return to the Institute he was unable. Flynn had hidden Pierre’s daughter and taken the Institute from him. He had declared war and that’s why to this day we regard the Voyageurs as enemies.”
Trey’s taciturn tone is betrayed once again by his eyes. Hate and pain surface time and time again with each sentence. These are words he has not strung together in quite some time. His usual cool manner isn’t just threatened by this topic, it’s torn in half, exhibiting the person Trey doesn’t want anyone to see. He isn’t a whole individual. I see that now. Hasn’t been one for quite some time. My study of him is cut short by a distracting fidget from Joseph. He’s been all jitters and scratching and shuffling since he sat down. Now he’s pushing forward in his chair, drumming his fingertips on his knee.
“So why?” Joseph asks. “What was Pierre’s big deal with you and our mother havin’ a relationship? I don’t get it.”
Trey pushes back from his desk and pins his hands on his knees. He lifts his chin. I watch as a tense knot in his throat bobs up and down as he tries time and again to swallow. What he’d just divulged hadn’t been the difficult part. He’d hoped all along this would be enough to satisfy us, but Joseph had to ask his question and now Trey was facing what he didn’t want to answer.
“Elle was forbidden to be with me or anyone else because…she had already been promised to someone else.” Trey says the last part in a rush. He isn’t looking at either of us as he speaks, but rather his own hands. “Pierre had made an arranged marriage for her. In exchange for a union with Elle, every Lucidite would willingly give their powers over to Pierre. Taking power from someone diminishes it, but if someone freely gives it over its purity is maintained.” Trey’s hands slip through his silver hair. The reflex reminds me of how I often absentmindedly twirl my hair through my fingers when I’m nervous or lost in thought.
“Your mother was promised to Chase. In exchange, Chase would control any Lucidite Pierre chose and have them relinquish their consciousness and all the power it held to him. Very much like Zhuang, Pierre wanted to take the powers of others to strengthen his own. When Flynn learned of this in the desert, he knew that this war wasn’t just necessary, but inevitable. I don’t think my father ever forgave himself for not seeing Pierre for who he truly was. Thankfully Pierre never fulfilled his end of the bargain and it appears he’s even slipped from power with the Voyageurs.”
Trey steeples his hands and rests his forehead against them. I shiver from a sudden chill, as though the air from the ventilation system is breathing down my core. When Trey lowers his hands, he regards me with a burning concern. “But Chase is back and has found a way to collect on what he was promised. This, Roya, is why Chase wants you.”
None of this adds up. I’m not good at math, and this is like a complex equation. “I’m not my mother. Why wouldn’t Chase just find some other Dream Traveler to seduce?”
“He’s after your blood,” Trey says. “There are only a few pureblood Dream Traveler families still in existence. These bloodlines will always produce a Dream Traveler. Not only that, but the offspring of these families are incredibly strong and skillful.”
“What you’re saying…” Joseph says slowly as he pieces it together, “is that our mother was from one of these ancient lineages? She was a pureblood? And so is Chase? That’s the reason that he wanted to marry slash breed with her?”
“That’s part of what I’m saying.” Trey pushes his hands automatically through his hair.
“The other part is that Chase wants Stark because she has the same blood, right?” Joseph almost sounds matter-of-fact, like we’re discussing the best growing season for tulips instead of my love life.
“Not the same blood,” Trey corrects.
“Right,” Joseph says, nodding. “Well, her blood would be less potent, but still enough to interest Chase, huh?”
“It’s more than enough.” Trey looks down uncomfortably. And I realize I’m twisting a strand of my own hair so tightly it’s about break. “Your mother was a direct descendant of one of the most ancient lineages of Dream Travelers. I come from another.”
Trey flips his head up, gauging our reaction to another bomb he’s dropped. The silence fills a place in me that was about to overflow and is now flooding. I begin making graphs and charts in my brain trying to piece all this together, but the more I try to understand it the more the confounding aspects of it cloud my brain.
“You two are both Dream Travelers with pure blood. This is quite rare.” Pride marks Trey’s words, which stuns me even more. I’m being hunted for this blood. How can I be prideful about this?
A loud, dramatic sigh sprays out of Joseph’s mouth, making me jump. “Damn! Stark is in a lot of trouble, isn’t she?”
“Yes, this is why it’s imperative that we protect her. Chase only wants offspring with founder blood.” Trey turns and looks at me. “And after he has what he wants he will have no use for you. Actually, I fear he will physically punish you for your mother’s betrayal. Maybe imprison you or get into your head. And still the cruelest thing he will do is take your children from you. There’s nothing worse.”
The ventilation system switches off. Then a soft silence fills the space. Trey’s expression relaxes. I guess now that the truth is out he’s finally unburdened.
“I can’t believe,” I begin slowly as if I’m choking on the words, “that you’ve known all of this for so long and kept it from us. How could you pretend to be confused as to Chase’s motives when I told you how he treated me in the Grotte? You knew, didn’t you?”
He nods, his eyes reeking with guilt and the weight of too much stress.
“A few days ago I let Chase seek me out in a dream travel. I was all alone,” I say, my words cold and almost practiced.
Trey stiffens.
I keep my eyes
locked on his. “I wouldn’t have done that if you’d shared this history with me. I’ll guard myself now that I know this information. Now that I know what Chase wants, I’ll die before he gets it.” I stand, arms by my side, back straight. “Funny, huh? How you thought all this information would make me weaker and all it actually makes me want to do is protect myself more. Imagine if you would have shared it with me earlier. Imagine all the hell we could have avoided…”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Let’s not talk about this anymore. I want to relieve my mind of it for a little while,” I say, twirling my fingers through George’s hair. We’ve been discussing the secrets Trey revealed for a solid hour.
He turns to me from his sitting position on the floor. “I understand.”
I scooch back on the bed and cross my legs. “You always do, don’t you, my sweet George?” I say, staring fondly down at him.
“That’s my favorite nickname ever,” he says, lying back on the carpet, cradling his head in his hands.
I smile. “You know what I’m going to do?” I say, tracing an invisible pattern on my bed covers with my finger. “I’m going to flee the Institute. Go work on a goat farm. I’ll change my identity and tell the nice family I work for that Chase and Trey are stalkers, and to shoot them if they set foot on the property.”
“That sounds like an especially flawed plan,” George says with a sideways smile. “And you promised to stay here for two years.”
“Trey lied. I think I should return the favor.”
George gives me a handsomely stern look. Jaw set. Eyes piercing. That perfect pinch to his mouth. Lately I’ve been making statements just to encourage him to look at me that way. Guess I like getting in trouble. Fortunately I’m good at it.
“All right, I wouldn’t really break my word even if Trey is a skinny little liar.”
“I know you wouldn’t. Still, if we’re pretending, what would your life on this goat farm look like?”