by Sophie Davis
“Did he become a PD?” Daphne asked.
Kev nodded. “Yep. Didn’t you guys have a demonstration today in class? Like where you saw an 8P take his advancement exam?”
Daphne and Cressa exchanged glances, then nodded in unison.
“Figured as much. So did we, and the PD used in ours was Hartley’s old roommate. Man, I hope that rat gets caught. It would serve him right.” Kev sighed. “Look, we aren’t in the clear yet. We need to get back to our beds before the guards go searching the dorms. I can get you back to your floor, but you’re on your own from there.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Cressa agreed.
It seemed Kev knew the tunnels better than Hartley and his friends. Even without the added advantage of a flashlight or the lamps, which apparently didn’t connect to the same switch that Daphne had turned on earlier, Kev knew the location of every crack, root, and low-hanging section of ceiling.
The walk back took three times as long as the walk there.
“There are several hidden passages way that would get us back faster,” Kev explained. “But I don’t think any of us are up for using telekinesis to open the doorways. We need to save what little energy we have to open the entrances to our floors.”
“Do you think the Dame has sent Leslie and Gregor to do bed-checks?” Cressa asked. “If so, I vote for taking our chances down here. One of these tunnels must lead to the kitchen, if not an exit.”
“No, we need to at least try making it back,” Daphne replied. “Gracia told me that a while back, a group of cadets was caught sneaking out of bed to explore down here. The Dame didn’t want the whole school knowing about the tunnels, so she just sent her guards down here to smoke them out. Like, literally smoke them out. According to Gracia, they pumped knockout gas through the ventilation system. The kids passed out, and then guards just wandered around until they found their unconscious bodies.”
“And you couldn’t have told me this before I agreed to come along?” Cressa groaned.
The younger girl shrugged. “I didn’t want to scare you off. The other girls are all pretty nasty to me, always making snide comments because I’m so much younger than the rest of you, and because Gracia is my sister. You’re the only one who has been nice to me.”
Cressa thought back over the conversations between Daphne and the other 2P girls. The twins had made several rude remarks aimed at the little canary. Then again, the twins were just sort of brats. Daphne wasn’t their only target; they made fun of everyone. So far, Cressa hadn’t found herself on the receiving end of their bitchiness, though she knew it was only a matter of time. And she didn’t doubt they traded jokes about Cressa behind her back.
“This is you guys, up here on the left,” Kev said, interrupting her musings.
Cressa’s gaze followed the direction he was pointing. There was no obvious opening, just a wall of smooth stone.
“Are you sure?” Cressa’s eyes darted around the tunnel. It didn’t look like the spot where they’d entered the passage—the bizarre light panel was no where in sight.
“Pretty sure. I watched a few 2P girls go through here a couple of weeks ago. There is definitely a door there, anyhow.”
Cressa scrutinized the section of wall, which appeared identical to the rest of the tunnel. “How can you tell where the doors are?”
Kev grinned. “Look harder. Like, really hard. Give into your senses.”
Cressa did as she was told, unsure what she was supposed to see.
Daphne gasped. “Holy sea urchin. I see it.” Tenderly, as if worried the stone might crumple beneath her touch, Daphne ran her fingers down a section of the wall. “It’s so pretty,” she added.
Staring at the wall until her eyes began to water from the effort of not blinking, Cressa concentrated with all of her might. Slowly—very slowly—the stone began to glow faintly. The longer Cressa stared, the brighter the surface became, until she was finally able to see the outline of a doorway. Instead of the drab, gray wall, the stone was a deep, rich iridescent blue.
“Now that you see it, you won’t be able not to,” Kev told her with a faint smile. “I think it has something to do with the serum they injected us with. In addition to giving us talents, it heightens our natural senses and allows us to see colors outside the normal visible spectrum.” He tapped his temple. “You just have to know how to use your new eyesight correctly.”
“How do you know so much about this stuff?” Daphne asked. “Did they teach you about it at movie star school?”
Kev laughed. “That’s a record. We’ve been hanging out for like thirty minutes, and that is your first mention of my former life.”
Daphne blushed, and Cressa realized she could suddenly see the other girl’s face perfectly.
Kev was right, she thought, now that I’ve tapped into my superhero eyesight, the world is in much sharper focus.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Kev said kindly. “It’s nice, you know? Even here, where they are remaking people into the Dame’s image of perfection, I still get treated like a celebrity. But yes, actually, I did learn about this stuff at ‘movie star school.’ On set, a lot of my stunt doubles were Talented. I spent a lot of time with people who could see, hear, and feel things that I can’t—well, couldn’t. I figured they must have better senses, in addition to cool powers. So, after I was injected the first time, I gave it whirl. Sure enough, the world looks very different through Talented eyes.”
Cressa wanted to hear more; she’d never met a Talent in real life, and knew nothing about their abilities beyond what the Institute told her. Madame Gillis had said that their new powers were much more complex than they seemed. At the time, Cressa hadn’t truly understood what she meant. Moving objects with her mind was not exactly simple after all. But with Kev’s explanation in her head, odd little things that Cressa had experienced over the last month made more sense—like the smell in the classroom when Sir Tate met Gracia.
Fear, Cressa realized. She’d smelled Sir Tate’s fear. Or maybe it had been anxiety? She wasn’t sure. Either way, the fact that she was able to perceive the emotions of others via scent was pretty freaking cool.
“Look, you guys really should go,” Kev said. “I need to get back, too. I’ll wait until you’re through. If guards are waiting on the other side of the door,” he grinned that heart-stopping smile at Cressa, “we’ll go with your plan b, and see how long we can live in these tunnels.”
Cressa beamed, strangely unconcerned about what awaited her in the atrium with Kev Leon’s attention focused on her. She turned to Daphne, and the momentary carefree feeling evaporated. “Ready?”
Nodding, Daphne pressed her palm to the door, which Cressa was still able to see with startling clarity. Together, the girls shoved the stone slab aside. With a muttered goodnight to Kev, Daphne and Cressa crept into the atrium, sealing the passageway behind them.
Only, this door did not lead to the massive foyer by the elevator.
“Carpet bombs, we’re in a shower stall,” Daphne mumbled. Cressa had to suppress the urge to laugh at the younger girl’s weird slangs for profanity.
The lights in the bathroom were off, but there was no mistaking the slick blue and white tile of the shower stall.
“Cadet Lupo claims Karmine was in her bed when she fell asleep.”
Cressa froze at the sound of Leslie’s voice. Daphne slipped her cool, clammy fingers between Cressa’s and squeezed.
“Take her to interrogation. Don’t push her, just find out what she knows. The Dame is furious. She wants to get to the bottom of this right now.”
Cressa recognized the second voice as well; it belonged to Madame Gillis. She looked down at Daphne, both girls holding their breaths as they waited to hear more.
“She’s barely been on this floor for a day, so how did Karmine know about the tunnels?” Leslie wanted to know.
“Hopefully Lupo can tell us that. If not, one of the others will, though they won’t be awake for a few hours,” Madame
Gillis replied. “Are we missing any other 2P girls?”
“I still have one more room to check, ma’am. So far, Karmine is the only one unaccounted for.”
So they don’t know about Daphne, Cressa thought.
Bending down so her lips were directly beside Daphne’s ear, Cressa said, “I have an idea. You’re pretty good with invisibility, right?”
Daphne nodded tentatively.
“Okay, good. Use that, and try to make it back to your room before Leslie gets there. It doesn’t sound like she knows you’re gone. Can you do that?”
Again, Daphne nodded. “What about you?” she squeaked.
“Don’t worry about me. Just get back to your room.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Cressa. You saved my life down there.”
Cressa smiled sadly. “No, I tried to save your life. I think it was Kev who actually gets the heroism credit. He’s the one who stopped you from falling. I wasn’t strong enough. Now, please, go.”
She gave Daphne a little shove to get her going. Daphne looked as though she was going to put up a fight. The next words that drifted back to them from the hallway outside the bathroom broke her resistance.
“If we don’t find Karmine soon, we will have to scan the minds of all the girls, to find out what they know. Check the Beaumont sisters’ room, then report back. I will see how Cadet Ivan is making out on the boys’ floors.”
“Good luck,” Daphne mouthed over her shoulder.
Cressa heard a faint pop, and then there was only a shimmering light where the younger girl had stood just an instant before. The shower door eased open soundlessly as the invisible Daphne slid through, and Cressa caught it before it closed again.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she counted to ten, giving Daphne enough time to make it across the bathroom to the exit. Then, she darted over to the next shower stall and started peeling off her filthy pajamas.
Once Cressa was standing in nothing more than a pair of white granny panties, she took a deep breath and set her plan into action.
As she stuck her finger down her own throat, she recalled the images of the frog pond and source stables. The pit of revulsion in her stomach made the unpleasant task easier to perform. Eyes watering and nose running, Cressa began to heave. This time, she didn’t swallow the bile that rose in her throat.
Sickness splashed the tiles. The sight of her own vomit made Cressa’s stomach heave harder. She coughed and sputtered, spewing more grossness onto the shower floor.
“Did you hear that?” Madame Gillis asked.
Two sets of shoes clapped against the bathroom tile as Madame Gillis and Leslie rushed to investigate the noise. Cressa threw up one last time, for good measure.
“Who is in here?” Madame Gillis demanded.
“M-m-me,” Cressa stuttered, pushing open the shower door so that they could see her. She hugged herself to cover her nakedness. “I’m sorry. I think I’m having a delayed reaction to my injection. Or maybe it’s food poisoning.”
Both Madame Gillis and Leslie stepped back as the stench hit them. Cressa’s dirty clothes, a visible sign of her guilt, were at her feet, covered in the mostly-digested contents of her dinner.
Madame Gillis covered her nose with her hand, making her voice sound very nasally when she spoke. “We had best get you to med bay, so Dr. Masterson can look you over. Cadet Abbot will escort you.”
“Can I rinse off first?” Cressa asked. “I got sick all over my clothes.”
“Quickly,” Madame Gillis replied. “I’ll wait right here while you do.” She turned to Leslie. “Fetch Cadet Karmine a fresh pair of pajamas, then check on Cadet Beaumont.”
Leslie left without comment, eager to escape the smell and sight of Cressa.
“Rinse off, but hurry, child.” With those terse words, Madame Gillis closed the shower door.
At her boarding school, there had been very few acceptable reasons for missing class. Vomiting had been the only surefire way to skip. Cressa had never tried the stick-her-finger-down-her-throat trick before that night, but she’d seen other girls do it plenty of times.
As Cressa turned on the water, she smiled. Her ridiculous plan had worked. A night in med bay and a raw throat were small prices to pay.
Especially when the alternative was an electric cage.
Erik
London, England
Two Days Before the Vote
The Palace Hotel in Kensington was fit for royalty. Probably because it had once been a royal palace. It had long since been converted into a luxury hotel, with only the most elite clientele. Thanks to Victoria, my friends and I were included in that exclusive group. Of course Victoria hadn’t chosen The Palace for its premiere restaurants, five person Jacuzzi soaking tubs, 2000 thread-count sheets, or in-room amenities packages. No, she’d chosen it for its unparalleled security detail. For my last peace rally, I had already been booked in the Queen Maud suite, the nicest and most expensive room The Palace had to offer. The staff was only too happy to amend my reservation to accommodate my early arrival. And since the suite was three levels, included six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and two kitchens—‘cause that was necessary—Miles, Frederick, Henri, Penny, and Brand each had his or her own bedroom. Or they would have, had they wanted it. At my insistence, Henri and Frederick took the master bedroom. Penny and Brand elected to share the slightly smaller Antiqua room. Miles and I chose the Charlotte and Balmoral rooms respectively.
I was lying on my bed, hands folded behind my head, attempting to contact Talia. So far, the chore was just that, a chore. I’d been so sure that she would be in London, so sure that once there I would be able to talk to her. In France, when we’d learned the girl traveling with Anya wasn’t Talia, I’d felt vindicated, messed up as that was. I hadn’t even given more than cursory thought to the identity of the imposter, when she replaced Talia—because the girl who’d escaped from Vault with Anya was Talia—or whether the doppelgänger was part of the larger plan. Worse, I didn’t really care. All that mattered was Talia.
Conjuring an image of her beautiful heart-shaped face, I pushed my telepathy as far as I could, exerting so much energy that sweat pooled in every crevice. Every inch of my body ached down to the marrow of my bones. Nothing. I couldn’t feel her. Plea after plea for her to just answer me went unanswered.
A knock sounded on my bedroom door. Penny. I ignored her. Nothing she had to tell me was important enough to stop trying to reach Talia.
“Erik! Stop! You’re going to fry your brain!” Penny screamed inside my head. When I continued to ignore her, Penny tried to compel me. We were evenly matched. The mental tug-of-war that followed was epic. Every time Penny pushed her will on me, I pushed back with all the force I possessed.
My brain felt as though it were being ripped in two. Conflicting thoughts warred with one another, fighting for dominance. The muscles in my arms and legs began to seize, followed a second later by the ones in my back and stomach. Then, my entire body was convulsing. Alternating black spots and starburst of light exploded behind my close eyes, blotting out portions of Talia’s face in my mind’s eye. It only made me angrier, and I fought harder.
Distantly, I was aware of the bedroom door bursting open.
“Shit. Henri! Get a medic!” Strong hands gripped my shoulders and started shaking me. Wait, no, not shaking me. I was already shaking. The hands, Frederick’s hands, were holding me down.
“What do we do?”
Miles, I thought, recognizing his voice.
“Break the connection!” Henri this time. “Brand, get the med kit. We can’t wait for the medics. We need to knock one or both of them out. Now.”
“Penny. Penny. Come back to me.” Brand was sobbing. I wanted to tell him that it was okay, but I lacked the motor skills. Bile rose in my throat. Frederick forced me onto my side.
“Miles! Go!” Henri again, giving orders like the seasoned leader he was.
I couldn’t hold in the sickness any longer. Vomit erupted from my mouth.
In my head, Penny’s shrill scream was enough to make my ears feel as though they were bleeding.
“Where?” I heard Miles ask.
Where what? I wondered, continuing to expel the coffee and toast I’d consumed earlier.
The prick of the needle barely registered. I felt my grip on consciousness loosening. My muscles relaxed.
“I can’t believe that worked,” a girl’s voice said inside my head.
“No,” I moaned aloud.
“Give him another dose,” Frederick ordered.
Images of a pub materialized in my head. Another pinch on the side of my neck.
“No, no more,” I protested weakly. Her name was a slur on my lips. “Talia.”
The world faded to black.
I woke with a start, heading pounding, throat raw and aching.
“Not so fast, kid.”
I’d tried to sit up, but Miles forced me back down with a gentle shove. He forced a straw between my cracked lips.
“Drink,” he ordered.
Feeling as weak as a toddler with the flu, I obeyed. It wasn’t water, but something thick and foul tasting.
“Drink,” Miles repeated.
I swallowed several large gulps before batting the cup away. This time, when I tried to sit up, Miles let me. The room spun. I was determined, though, and I willed the feeling away. Mostly. Letting out a shaky breath, I leaned against the ornate headboard, closed my eyes, and counted to ten. When I opened my eyes, the room was dark but stationary.
“What is that shit? It’s nasty,” I groaned.
Miles, sitting in a chair he’d pulled beside the bed, shot me a wry look. “Vita shake. Frederick says it has nutrients that will help restore your strength.” The older agent eyed me critically. “Which you’re going to need, seeing as you blew your fuse. The girlie’s, too.”
“Blew my fuse?” I asked, the words feeling like gravel in my throat.
“Yeah. Frederick says you two were locked in some sort of battle of wills? Hell, I don’t understand it. But he says you guys were giving off so much power that it’s a miracle people aren’t knocking on the suite door. You know, the people who can feel Talents? He says that much power is like a homing beacon.”