by Daniel Price
It was only when she got to the Evan Rander part of the story that Mia censored herself. She skipped ahead to the long trek home, one of the most unique and fascinating experiences of her life.
David blinked at her in deadpan stupor. “You teleported.”
“Yup.”
“Across the whole United States.”
Mia grinned immodestly. “It’s not as easy as it sounds.”
Her journey with Peter had taken twenty-nine hours, a dotted trail across the northern half of the nation. Most of their progress was made through line-of-sight portal jumps to the distant horizon. When they moved within range of a place Peter knew, he carried them through a memory leap. Whenever he got tired, he let Mia draw the shortcuts.
Though the trip was exhausting, Mia couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. The weather was nice, the scenery was gorgeous, and Peter’s portals were as pleasant as a warm water slide. With each teleport, Mia could feel his strong, fatherly love for her. And when she took the reins . . . oh, the power. The freedom. She’d never felt so dominant in her life. At Peter’s side, she was a true force of nature. The world was a tiny thing at her feet.
She tried to explain her joy to David but his smiling expression made her feel self-conscious.
“Is it wrong?” Mia asked him.
“Is what wrong?”
“I don’t know. I mean my family’s gone, the whole world’s dying, but I couldn’t stop thinking how incredible my life’s become. It just seems so—”
“—wonderful,” he said.
“—selfish,” she said.
David shook his head. “You’re anything but selfish.”
Mia twitched in discomfort. Even now after all this time, David still had a ridiculous amount of power over her. She remembered why she hated his smile, always warm but never hot, always admiring but never desiring. Even worse was the fact that she’d punished him for it. She froze him out of her life, all because he loved her like a sibling.
She looked away. Her voice shook with sorrow. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I shouldn’t have left things the way I did. If you had died—”
“I didn’t.”
“It wasn’t fair of me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” David said. “You’re here, I’m here, and you’ve never looked so . . .” He chuckled in wonder. “It’s unreal. You could almost be her mother.”
“Who?”
“Her.”
He created a life-size hologram on the other side of the room, a memory ghost of the Mia who’d first arrived on this world. She sat on a chair in an oversize bathrobe, her hair still wet from the shower. She was so meek and dainty that she looked like a stiff breeze could knock her over, like a harsh word could shatter her to pieces.
Mia closed her eyes, disgusted. “Put it away.”
“Just showing you how far you’ve come.”
“Please.”
David vanquished the image. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“It’s not you. I just . . .”
Mia stared at the floor, her thoughts teeming with memories of Evan. She should have never let the bastard get to her. Not even for a moment.
She rose from her chair and made for the exit. “I should let you rest.”
“Mia . . .”
She turned around in the doorway. David looked at her with a complicated expression, one she couldn’t even begin to untangle.
“It’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”
Mia stared at the floor with dark, guilty eyes. “I missed you too.”
She walked down the hall in a state of fidgety unrest. After ten months on this world, she’d become used to a life of near-constant turmoil. But there was something about this latest upheaval that left her utterly terrified. Things were changing faster than normal. She was changing. But where would she land when all the spinning stopped? What would she be?
Angry, Evan had teased. You get very, very angry.
“Mia!”
She doubled back a few steps and saw Carrie sitting on an exam table. Her hair was unwashed. Her skin was shockingly pale. She looked like she’d been freed after a long and torturous kidnapping.
“Oh my God . . .”
Mia stepped into the exam room, then jumped at the sight of a large, bearded man in the corner. He glowered at the sight of her.
Carrie sighed. “Daddy, give us a minute. Please.”
Stan Bloom mulled her request a moment, his frosty eyes never leaving Mia.
“One minute,” he growled, before stepping out of the room. Carrie closed the door behind him and spoke to Mia in a furtive mutter.
“I have to be careful. He’s this close to pulling me out of Freak Street.”
“What? No!”
“He doesn’t think I’m safe around you people.” She showed Mia her wrists, each one laced with ten ugly stitches. “Can’t entirely blame him.”
“Oh my God. Carrie . . .” Mia wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Even my dad knows that.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Carrie held her hands. “And you, my love, are staying right here with me. No more Copper hunts. I heard what happened to you.”
Mia grimly shook her head. “I’m done with those people.”
“Good. Then I have you all to myself again. As soon as Dad goes topside, we’ll meet in the house and, uh . . .”
Mia could see the strain on Carrie’s face, as if she’d just remembered something terrible. “What? What’s the matter?”
Carrie squeezed Mia’s fingers and gave her a shaky grin. “Let me just enjoy this for a second, okay? Before you get mad at me.”
“Why would I get mad?”
A long moment passed before Carrie looked up again. Her bright blue eyes danced back and forth in thought.
“We have a problem.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Of all the celestial projectors on the market, none were more powerful than the Heavensend Elite. The two-ton, glass-eyed, million-dollar lumicaster could throw a photorealistic sky over any indoor environment, no matter how large. The console offered a wide variety of day and night modules, everything from sunshine to storm clouds to an aurora borealis with meteors.
Every Friday morning, the elders convened in the council chamber and chose the following week’s weather for the underland. Elder Sunder preferred an eternally pleasant climate. Elder Howell insisted on variety. Elder Rubinek was adamant that the climate stay true to the seasonal calendar. Elders Kohl and Tam didn’t give a flying fig, and traded their votes for political favors.
At two P.M. on Thursday, thirty-six hours after the battle in the clock tower, Sunder convened an emergency conference and demanded the cheeriest sky imaginable. The clan had just lost five of its children, and the people needed sunshine. Not next week. Now.
An hour later, Amanda cracked her blinds and winced at the overbearing brightness. White light gleamed off every stone and window, pricking her through her tinted glasses. Her corneas were still recovering from Harold Herrick’s flash attack. She didn’t need this now.
Squinting, she peeked across the street and saw Heath on the porch of the vacant cottage, his studious attention focused on his song sheets. He only worked outside when Hannah and Jonathan were . . . occupied. That was good. Amanda didn’t want them getting wind of what she was doing. She’d quietly brought four people to her house, and it wasn’t to talk about the weather.
Her guests watched her solemnly as she sat down to join them. They all looked miserable in their own little ways. Carrie was meek. Mia was livid. Theo was downright morose. Zack was the most distracting of all. He sat forward in a
love seat, struggling to shuffle a deck of cards. Every time they spilled from his stiff and palsied fingers, he’d mutter a curse and scoop them up again. Though Amanda sympathized with his plight, she still wanted to throttle him. She was mad at him for reasons that had nothing to do with the playing cards.
She took off her sunglasses and sighed. “Well, I guess we can start.”
The others looked to the crumpled scrap of paper on the coffee table, the reason for their secret meeting. By now everyone in the room was familiar with its incendiary message:
Don’t trust Jonathan. He’s not who he says he is.
“For the record, I don’t buy it,” Amanda said. “If you had seen him in that clock tower—”
Carrie clucked her tongue. “Awful.”
“He’d been stabbed three times. He was on the verge of organ failure, yet all he cared about was getting others to safety. Even the best liar in the world couldn’t act in that condition. He’s a genuinely good man. I believe he’s exactly who he says he is.”
“Of course he is,” Mia snapped.
She’d come to the meeting in a bathrobe and slippers, her hair still wet from the tub. The long hot soak had done little to relax her. She looked ready to maul someone.
“The whole thing is bullshit. I could have told you that from the start.” She turned her scornful gaze onto Carrie. “This is exactly why I asked you not to read those notes.”
Carrie shrank away. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m really, really sorry.”
The playing cards spilled out of Zack’s hands again. Amanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“The message still bothers me. If it’s right and I’m wrong, then we’re in a lot of trouble. I just want to make absolutely sure—”
“I’m sure,” Mia said. “I’m telling you, the note’s a lie. All she does is lie.”
“You are her,” Amanda countered. “If she’s lying, then you’re the one I’m worried about.”
Mia covered her eyes, groaning. She couldn’t handle one more conversation about the girl she was, would be, might be, or shouldn’t be.
Carrie touched her arm. “Look, we’re only concerned because the Mia we know would never play a trick like that.”
Amanda shook her head. “Worse than a trick. It was an attack. It was designed to hurt Jonathan and everyone who cares for him. Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know!” Mia looked to Theo. “Who are you worried about, me or Jonathan?”
He shifted his legs on the coffee table, his brow creased distractedly. Amanda hated dragging him into this mess, as he had much bigger things to worry about. Everyone in the village was talking about his epiphany in the God’s Eye, the earth-shaking vision that he could no longer remember. All he knew was what he’d told Hannah to tell him: Find the orphans. All of them.
He shrugged at Mia. “I don’t know. I think Amanda’s right about Jonathan and I think Carrie’s right about you. That’s a harsh note, even for the Mianati.”
Zack laughed. “Mianati?”
“What, too cheesy?”
“Too sinister. You make it sound like they rule the world.”
“What would you call them?”
“The Mianut Gallery.”
Theo glared at him. Zack threw his hand up. “Fine. The Mialstrom.”
“No.”
“Miasma?”
“Yes.” Theo shook a finger at him. “That’s the one.”
Amanda felt the flesh on the back of her neck tighten. Mia rose from her chair. “Well, this was fun. Thanks for having me.”
“Wait,” Zack said. “Aren’t you going to ask me who I’m worried about?”
Mia narrowed her eyes, steeling herself for another bad pun. “Who are you worried about?”
“Semerjean.”
The others stared at him, expressionless. Zack jerked his head at the note. “Come on. I can’t be the only one who read that and thought ‘Pelletier.’”
“You’re not,” Amanda said. “But if you think Jonathan is secretly—”
“Forget Jonathan. Let’s look at this from the other side. We know Semerjean wears a mask and disguises his voice. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t want us recognizing him. I think it’s time we started asking why.”
Mia sat back down with a cynical sneer. “You’re saying you believe Rebel now.”
“Believe him? No. But when it comes to the Pelletiers, I’m willing to listen. He hates them just as much as we do, and he’s given them a lot of thought. He actually made a few good points to me.”
“When was this?” Theo asked.
“Yesterday. He, uh . . .” Zack tossed a nervous look at Amanda. “He visited me.”
Everyone felt the cold new air around Amanda, though only she and Zack knew the cause of it. She’d gone to the vivery last night to check on him, only to find him in deep conversation with two former enemies. While Rebel was content to lean against the wall, Mercy had crawled into bed with Zack. She lay at his hip like a conjoined twin, massaging his fingers with the loving care of a wife. A nurse.
Amanda had never felt as foolish as she did at that moment, standing in the doorway with her mouth hanging open. She figured she was the last person in the underland to learn about their romance. If Zack wanted to shack up with an old foe, a woman who’d once tried to kill Amanda, that was his choice. But he could have at least told her. He could have shown her that respect.
Theo looked between them. “Uh, do you two need a minute to—”
“Yes,” said Zack.
“No,” said Amanda. “What did Rebel say?”
Zack sank in his seat. “He used to think that Semerjean was posing as one of us.” He motioned to everyone but Carrie. “I mean us. The orphans. The ones who know who Batman is.”
Amanda wound her finger. “But then?”
“But then he realized it doesn’t make sense. The Pelletiers are playing a bigger game. It’s not just us they’re trying to manipulate, it’s the Gothams.”
He sheepishly looked at Carrie. “Sorry. Does that word bother you?”
“No. I’m still stuck on Batman.”
“I’ll tell you later. The thing is, Rebel’s right. If the Pelletiers were going to plant a mole, they’d put him in a position of maximum influence, a place where he could manipulate both us and the Gothams.”
Theo balked at the implication. “You just narrowed it down to one guy.”
“Peter.” Amanda stared at Zack in disbelief. “You think Semerjean is Peter?”
“I don’t. I’m just telling you what Rebel thinks.”
Zack took a nervous peek at Mia, who remained perfectly still in her seat. Droplets of water dawdled down long hair strands. Her dark eyes never left his.
Carrie chuckled. “Come on. Peter’s no Pelletier. He’s lived here my whole life.”
“But not his whole life,” Zack said. “He came here as an orphan with no traceable history.”
“He has a brother,” Amanda reminded him. “A son.”
“Adopted brother. As for Liam, I have no idea. I just know the Pelletiers play head games, and I don’t mean ‘tap your shoulder from the other side.’ They’re four-dimensional mindfuckers. They have temporal tricks we don’t even know about.”
Zack frowned at Theo’s laughter. “Look, even if you don’t take the long view, remember that Esis is a surgeon from the year Whatever. She could have the tools to make anyone look like anyone. Who knows? Maybe there really was a Peter and the Pelletiers killed him. Maybe the one we have now is . . . not who he says he is.”
Amanda shook her head, horrified. “Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?”
“Our baseline for crazy got moved a long time ago. It’s not like we haven’t been fooled by a fake Peter before.”
Carrie gestured at Theo. “You have an augur rig
ht here. If Peter was tugging you, wouldn’t—”
“No,” said Zack.
“No,” said Theo. He tapped his temple. “The Pelletiers put a ring in my brain. Some kind of selective fogger. I can’t see crap when it comes to them.”
He turned a hard eye on Zack. “Doesn’t mean I believe you.”
“I’m not the one saying it! I’m just playing—”
“—Rebel’s Advocate,” Amanda said.
Zack laid his cards on the coffee table. “Call it what you like, but there are four ugly truths I can’t get around. Number one is the fact that the Pelletiers wanted us to get to Peter. They gave us a van and a whole lot of money to reach him. Do you deny that?”
“No,” Theo said. “It’s still not proof.”
“No, but it’s troubling. Fact number two is that nobody saw Peter on that aerstraunt when Semerjean was running around.”
“I did,” Amanda said. “I was right there with him when Semerjean killed Ivy’s brother.”
“You were shot in the back with a twelve-gauge,” Zack reminded her. “You were barely conscious. Did you actually see Semerjean kill Bug? Did you see him save Peter?”
Amanda scowled at him. “You’re still reaching.”
“Three: Rebel tried every trick in the book to draw Azral and Esis out of hiding that day. He’d set a ton of traps, but they wouldn’t take the bait. It wasn’t until Ivy shot Peter that they showed up with a vengeance. And the first thing they did, the very first thing—”
Mia closed her eyes. “Goddamn it, Zack . . .”
“—was heal him.”
“Enough!”
She hurled her teacup, shattering it against the fireplace. Zack barely had a chance to view the bouncing shards before a furious Mia eclipsed his view.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Look—”
“He’s saved your life over and over again! He saved your life in Seattle!”
“I’m not saying—”
“You are saying it! Don’t hide behind weasel words. You’re trusting the man who killed your brother over the man who saved your life. That’s pathetic, Zack. You should be ashamed of yourself!”