Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1)

by C. M. Fenn

  “There’s been NO sign of him!” I cut him off. “Not one sighting since that night!”

  “For all we know, he’s saving his energy and biding his time until you leave the safety of Major Calm.”

  “So, what then? You’re going to make me stay here forever?”

  “If I have to.” His determined gaze is unwavering.

  “No,” I say meekly, my rigid defiance draining from my body. “Sam, please.” I place a hand on his chest. “I was brought here for a reason.” For the first time he looks away, unwilling to look me in the eyes as I say what he knows is the truth.

  “That reason wasn’t to sit here and hide. I’m ready. I know I can do this.” The muscles in his jaw flex as he clenches and unclenches his jaw.

  “Don’t you believe in me?” I choke the words out, hating how vulnerable I feel. Hating how much I desperately need his approval.

  He places a hand over the one I’ve laid on his chest. He squeezes it gently but still refuses to look at me.

  “Of course I do.” He nods. “But I believe in Timothy and Lang-hao as well. And together the three of us couldn’t even scratch this bastard. Until I know what he’s up to and how to stop him, I’m not letting you anywhere near him.” He reaches out and grabs me by the shoulders. Before I can react, he’s lifted me up and out of his way and disappeared around the corner.

  The following week is miserable. Sam manages to avoid me almost entirely. On the rare occasions when I do see him, we both adamantly refuse to acknowledge each other’s presence. I’m angry and hurt. He’s stubborn and bossy. We’re at an impasse, both believing that we’re the one who’s right.

  This is NOT the way I’d envisioned things. Instead of getting closer to Sam, we’re growing farther apart. Instead of fighting Lesser Shades, I’m stuck here in the library memorizing this enormous, ancient, leather-bound book The Walker Chronicles. Without the other Walkers’ support and sympathy, I’m sure I’d have gone loony by now.

  Nearly all of the Walkers at one point or another this week have expressed mild confusion and disbelief at Sam’s insistence that I remain within Major Calm.

  Angel’s been especially helpful in keeping me distracted. On my first night of what I’m calling “lock-down,” she tasked me with pushing my “feelers” out as far as I could into Chaos so that I could be aware of everyone’s state of mind. Once I managed to do this, she told me to stay that way all night.

  “This must become a constant habit for you. You need to be able to recognize danger at any time, all the time.”

  At first it’s difficult to keep my feelers out while performing other tasks, like working out with Kira or studying history in the library, but by the end of the night, it’s become automatic. Like breathing.

  Each night Angel finds me and charges me with an additional task. Be aware of the space in Major Calm at all times in case a weak spot appears. Be on constant alert for any approaching unfamiliar “frequencies” in case a new Walker is being called to Chaos.

  My respect and admiration for this little girl grows each night as I come to realize how much work goes into maintaining safety here. And with each new responsibility I take on, Angel’s burden becomes lighter. The effect is obvious.

  She seems to grow visibly younger. Nearly every time I see her she’s smiling or laughing. I even catch her skipping through the halls. I don’t mind the extra work if it means that Angel gets to be a kid for the first time in her young life.

  It’s Thursday night now and I’m in my usual chair behind the giant oak desk in the library, buried deep in the accounts of the nineteenth century Realmwalkers. I’m trying very hard to focus on the writings, but as I read the entries—stories of adventures and battles and amazing abilities—I find it difficult not to be jealous and feel sorry for myself.

  I sense a Walker approaching and immediately recognize it as Angel’s bright, sunny spirit. My sense is confirmed when I look up in time to see her jog through the door of the library, grinning widely, her white silk hair bouncing behind her.

  “Hi Addy! It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” she says cheerfully, hopping into the chair opposite the desk.

  “I can’t say I agree,” I grumble. Even Angel’s exuberance isn’t enough to lighten my mood tonight. “More tasks?”

  “Nope. Not tonight!” She grins and spreads her arms out dramatically. “You’re done! I’ve taught you everything I can teach you, aside from what you’ll learn from experience,” she rambles excitedly, “and THAT you’ll have to learn on your own. Once you get out and test yourself, of course. Oh, and you’ll be great. I know it!”

  I smile. She’s a young bird chirping up a storm, excitedly bouncing around on its spindle legs.

  “I just wanted to check on you, ya know? I know this has been a long week. How are you doing? How are things with Simone?”

  I’m caught completely off guard. My mouth hangs ajar as I try and scramble for some excuse or another.

  “Uhhh …”

  “Hmmmm, not good then, huh?” She puts her hands on her hips and pushes her mouth over to one side of her face as she considers.

  “I’m sorry, Angel. I’ve tried! I mean, you can lead a horse to water and all …”

  “And Simone can be one stubborn horse.”

  More like jack-ass. I think to myself and then shoot Angel a guilty look, hoping she didn’t overhear that thought.

  “Please, Addy, don’t give up.” The pleading in her eyes cuts me deep. “You’ve helped me so much this last week, taking over my responsibilities. I can’t tell you what it means. But Simone is suffering and it weighs on me.” The youthfulness leaves her and she’s again an adult in a child’s body.

  Simone’s suffering? I reach for Simone’s awareness and find her in her room. I lightly skim the surface of her mind. What I find is anger. Anger and bitterness. I’m not surprised by this. I dig a little farther down, avoiding thoughts and focusing instead on emotions. What I find below the anger surprises me. There’s doubt there. Insecurity. And even deeper than this, a tender, raw ache.

  I try hard to understand. I think of how a normally passive animal will become nasty when wounded and cornered. Is this who Simone really is? Under the meanness, is she just a scared, wounded creature?

  Someone clears their throat and startles me out of my thoughts. Looking up, I’m surprised to find Faye standing behind Angel. She holds her hands folded in front of her, a kind but tired smile on her face. Her gray hair is pulled back into a haphazard bun, and a few stray wisps fall around her scarred face. I haven’t had much opportunity to get to know Faye. She’s rarely in Chaos, spending nearly every waking minute at work in the E.R., forever trying to recompense her imagined crime.

  “I’m sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting,” she apologizes.

  Angel motions her forward. “Not at all! Have a seat.”

  “I won’t take too much of your time,” she says somewhat breathlessly. Faye always seems to give the impression that she’s in a great hurry. Even when she is talking directly to you, she still seems to be a bit preoccupied.

  “Everything’s all right?” I ask, feeling outward to make sure she’s in a calm state.

  “Of course, of course.” She waves away my concern. “I was thinking, Addy, about your predicament.” Her English accent, I note, isn’t as pronounced as Ben’s. “I hate to stir up trouble, but I really don’t agree with Sam’s decision to keep you from fighting. It’s not right, and I wanted to let you know that there IS a way around this.”

  “What?” I spit out.

  “Boss’s word is not law,” she says matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised.

  I stare wide-eyed at her. “But, what can I do?”

  Angel’s face lights up. “Faye, you’re brilliant!”

  “What?” I demand.

  Faye explains, “The newest Walkers might not know this, but the Boss’s decisions are not the final word. This is a democracy. If there’s ever dissent within the ranks, we can put the issue at
hand to a vote.”

  Chapter 41

  “Stop squirming! You’re making this way harder than it should be.” Ember tugs at the corner of my eyelid as she traces my eyes with black liner.

  “Do you think he’ll come?” I ask her. She’s so close to me that I catch a whiff of smoke and ash, a comforting and familiar scent that always seems to surround her.

  She screws up her face in annoyance. “If he doesn’t then he’s an ass. There.” She leans back and tilts her head to one side as she appraises me. “Spin around. Let’s see.”

  I make a show of twirling around in the little black dress she and my mom picked out for me. It’s snug, sleek, and shimmery. I never would’ve chosen it for myself, but now that it’s on I’m surprised by how much I love this piece of fabric.

  Ember “oooos” and “aahhhs” dramatically. It’s Friday evening and I’m graduating in a couple hours. I turn and look at my reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of my door. My hair is swept to one side, held in place by unseen pins, and falls in big dark rings over my right shoulder. Ember has somehow managed to make my eyelashes thicker and longer, my eyes brighter, and my lips fuller, without making it seem like I’m wearing makeup at all.

  I’ve never felt more feminine. I know this is probably the last time in a long time that I’ll feel this pretty, and I hope more than anything that Sam comes to my graduation so he can see me this way. After the scene last night in the briefing room, however, I won’t be surprised if he’s a no-show.

  Last night, after Faye’s revelation, Angel summoned everyone to the briefing room. It took about twenty minutes to assemble everyone, but I was surprised that all the Walkers, save Mikhail, were present. The room buzzed with curiosity, and Sam seemed the most perplexed. There was a nervous wariness about him, as if he knew what might be coming.

  Once everyone quieted down, Angel stood at the front of the room and announced why she had called us all there. I’m not sure what I was expecting—maybe for the room to suddenly explode into commotion as Walkers shouted support for either Sam or me. Maybe shock or even outrage at the thought of openly challenging the Boss—anything but the complete blanketed silence that followed.

  The atmosphere in the room was so tense it almost overwhelmed me, being plugged into the emotions the Walkers were broadcasting. Everyone’s extreme unease filled me up so much that my hands quivered.

  Sam, as expected, was furious. As the Walkers tentatively raised their hands in support of me, he skewered them with piercing glares. One by one, every Walker present voted that I be given a proper field-training experience. Even Simone raised her hand on my behalf. I was so grateful for this, whatever her motives, that I made a silent vow to swallow my pride and recommit to helping her.

  As my friends filed out of the briefing room, they avoided looking directly at Sam. I smiled and thanked them somberly as they left. The guilt they felt was evident on their faces, and it was hard to look at them, knowing they just did something very uncomfortable to help me.

  This was a victory. It should have felt like a victory. But as Sam walked out of the room without even a glance in my direction, all I felt was hollow.

  Now, as I smile for my mom’s camera, the sounds of excitement are a muffled, muted backdrop to the worry in my head. As the light from the flashes temporarily blinds me, all I can think is Will he be there? Will he forgive me for what I had to do? Will he ever understand why I had to do it?

  I stumble through the next few hours in a fog, and at some point I’m vaguely aware that I’m sitting in a row of students in black graduation gowns. Someone is speaking at a podium on the stage.

  Tonight. I return to Chaos tonight. Can I do this without his support?

  I’m standing now with the rest of my row. When I reach the edge of the stage, I look up and see my principal staring at me expectantly. They must have called my name because I’m nudged from behind. I force a smile as I accept my diploma.

  When I committed to being a Walker that day in the shade of a tree on my neighbor’s property, I didn’t do it under the condition that I would be loved and accepted.

  I see my Dad’s smiling face again as he waves good-bye for the last time. I watch him walk away through the rain and out of sight.

  Because it isn’t about me. It isn’t about having amazing friends who love you. It isn’t about finding someone you could love for the rest of your life.

  My fellow graduates cheer and throw their caps in the air. As they fall back to the earth, they turn into raindrops. Under a dark gray sky I see a graveside funeral, and a rain-slicked black casket is being lowered into the ground. My mother and sister are huddled together under a black umbrella. They’re weeping.

  It’s about doing what’s right—simply BECAUSE it is right. It’s about helping those who are unable to help themselves, refusing to let evil prosper, and if it’s demanded of you, forfeiting your life—or love—to the cause.

  With this new creed etched into my heart, I force the fog from my mind, determined to enjoy the night as best I can. Families flow down from the stadium seating to find their graduates among the gown-clad students on the football field.

  As I try to pinpoint my mom, sister, and Ember in the crowd, I feel a familiar presence to my left. Before I can turn to see if it’s really him, a rough, warm hand wraps around mine. I look up into icy waters.

  “You came,” I whisper through a mix of surprise and relief.

  Sam stares back at me for a moment before answering. I try to read his expression. He seems calm, resigned.

  “I needed to,” he says simply. He smiles, though a bit sadly. “You look amazing.”

  I can feel my face warm at his words. “Thank you, Sam.”

  And those words are all we need. No apologies. No mentions of the painful events of last night.

  “CONGRATULATIONS, ADDY!” I hear a group of people shout. Turning, I find a happy sight. Mel, Timothy, Crank, Kira, Lang, and Ember are rushing forward with grins and flowers and hugs. When my mom and Jana find us, everyone’s introduced as “friends I met through Sam and Ember,” and they’re all invited back to my house for dinner and games.

  Before leaving the field, I make it a point to find Tori. When I do, we hug and make small talk for a moment. All the while she curiously eyes the gaggle of interesting-looking people waiting for me. As I hug her good-bye and wish her a fun trip to Paris, a part of me realizes this is probably the end of our friendship. I’m not just saying good-bye to Tori but to the old me and my old life. She must sense it too because her hug is tight and her good-byes and well wishes are genuine.

  The evening is full of laughter. There hasn’t been so much joy in this house since before my father died. The Walkers fit seamlessly into my family, and at the end of the night, my mom and Jana are begging everyone to stay. Makeshift beds are made on couches and floors, and by one in the morning, everyone’s ready to turn in.

  Anxiety fills me as I think of the night ahead. On my way to bed, Sam grabs my hand and pulls me into the guest room where he’ll sleep. It’s dark, but a sliver of light enters from the hall—just enough to see by. We don’t have much privacy. Kira and Mel are laughing right outside. He tugs me close to him.

  “You have to know, Addy,” he says quietly. “I DO believe in you.”

  For a moment I’m afraid he’s going to try one more time to change my mind.

  “You were right. The whole time I knew you were right.” He shakes his head. “I just didn’t care.”

  I take my hand from his and lean into him, putting my arms around his waist. His arms lift and wrap around my shoulders.

  “We’ll take it easy, okay? Nothing too crazy,” I try to reassure him.

  “Try to stay close to me tonight, okay?”

  “I will,” I say into his chest. He kisses the top of my head.

  “Good.”

  I hear Kira call out in a loud whisper. “Addy! Come on, girl! Let’s go kick us some nasty Shade butt!”

  Sam
growls a bit at her eagerness while I try to stifle a chuckle.

  “Goodnight, Sam.” I squeeze him tight, wishing for more times like this. “See you on the other side.”

  Chapter 42

  I’m supposed to head directly to the armory to meet up with those who will be joining me on my very first mission. There we’ll don protective gear, arm ourselves with our favored weapons, and receive instructions from Sam, our mission leader. Instead, I head to Angel’s room.

  This last week, between being in the library and working on my fitness, I’ve had plenty of time to ponder the problem of this Greater Shade, and I stumbled upon an idea. At first it seemed crazy, but as time went on and the more I considered it, the more certain I became that it was our only option. Before pitching it to Sam, I wanted to get Angel’s opinion, and hopefully, her support.

  Angel’s door is wide open, the way it always is. Her room’s one of the most surprising—yet coolest—in all of Major Calm. Though Angel is far from your typical nine-year-old girl, her room is a typical nine-year-old girl’s dream come true.

  The walls are pastel pink with the floor a matching shag. Posters of British boy bands, young actors, and puppies line her walls. An entire half of her room is piled with an enormous variety of stuffed animals. I quickly scan the heap, half-expecting to see her little porcelain face peeking out of the plush collection of spotted, striped, and whiskered creatures.

  The room’s brightly lit, so the sequined and glittery gowns lying around her dress-up area shine and seem to dance in the reflected light. Tiny high heels peek out from under a mound of fuzzy pink and purple feather boas. A gold conical princess hat, complete with white tulle cascading from the top, hangs from an elaborately carved, gilded coat rack.

  Stepping over Hula-Hoops and bottles of nail polish, I make my way to the stairs at the back of the room. The walls and steps of the spiral staircase are papered to resemble the gray stone insides of a castle tower. Halfway up the stairs an arched, stone window is pictured on the wall with a scene overlooking a rose garden and a pond.