by Lysa Daley
“Brother Carlyle!” I says to no one at all.
I throw the blanket off and get up. I move to the buffet that stands against the back dining room wall where I grab a bag that I’ve hidden in the dark corner, and I'm out the door.
Chapter 6
After the Draconians attacked the small village of St. Benedicts in the middle of the Oregon forest, the whole place had to be shut down for a couple of months to make the repairs, and ensure that the security system and shields were fully operational.
Luckily, things went ahead of schedule, and the school is back open, and the whole village is back to work. This is a huge relief considering it's my fault the Draconians basically laid waste to the whole place.
If there's one thing I've learned in my almost 21 years is that no one is safe around me.
I'm a walking disaster area; a permanent combat zone. It's like I'm listed on some intergalactic “most wanted” criminals list. Every shape shifting, bounty hunting, low life scum on this side of the universe is trying to nab my hide to collect the evil (but sizable) reward.
Usually, once we think our cover is blown, my uncle and I have been able to leave the place where we've been living before too much damage gets inflicted on the innocent people who live there.
Not so with St. Benedicts.
You can't imagine how terrible I would have felt if that quaint little town that’s been around since the 1800s had been totally destroyed, and everyone had to be relocated.
Needless to say, I can’t go back.
So when I heard that Brother Carlyle, the president of the St. B’s school, was coming to meet with Fitz, I shot off a quick email to him, and he agreed to meet with me when he got here.
Of course, this meeting is top secret.
I gently knock on the door. Brother Carlyle opens it right away, smiling when he sees me. “Astrid! You're looking well. All the kids back at St. Bs send their best regards.”
I can't contain my excitement and push past him. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me. I need your help.”
“I'm so glad to hear that you've been thinking about this,” he says. “It's a very important decision and crucial to your future.”
Since there’s no way I can go back to my old college Oakdale College in California, I need to find a new school.
I pull two thick folders from my bag and set them on the table by the window. “I talked to a counselor at both MIT and Cal Tech. In fact, one told me —”
“Astrid,” Brother C holds up a hand.
I just want to get this in before he tells me how hard it is to get into these two schools. “One of the counselors told me that my experience at St. B’s working with the animals - by the way I didn't mention they were alien animals — might help me get a scholarship. And I know some people think MIT is a better school, but I would love to get back to Cali. What do you think?”
Just then, I hear water running in the bathroom sink. Someone else is here. “Wait? Who's that?”
The water shuts off. A few seconds later, my uncle steps out from the bathroom, wringing his clean hands on a towel. He's still wearing his clothes from the Cairo mission.
He smiles and speaks in an overly cheerful voice. “It sure feels good to get cleaned up. Oh hi, Astrid. Guess who I ran into in the command center?”
Busted.
Brother Carlyle looks extremely uncomfortable.
My best option here is to tell the truth. Believe me, you don't want to lie to my uncle.
“I was going to tell you all about this college counseling session tonight. Right after I met with Brother Carlyle. I wanted to get all the information put together first.”
Brother Carlyle tries to interject. “Usually in this situation, we meet with the parents and the student. So I thought it might be best to include your uncle in our conversation.”
“Oh. Okay.” I smile and nod like this is a good idea. But this is not a good idea. I know for an absolute fact that my uncle thinks there is no possible way that I can go to college here on this planet.
“But let’s just get one thing straight. You're not seriously thinking that you can go — away — to college next year?” My uncle asks with his forehead furrowed.
“That's usually what people my age do,” I say, not trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “I’ll be 21 years old. An adult.”
He scowls. “As soon as we get BrightSky back, we are out of here. Off this planet. Back to the safety of the Pleiades.”
“And what if I don't want to go?”
“You don't have a choice,” he says, raising his voice a little. He rarely does that. When you’re as big and powerful as my uncle, you don’t need to raise your voice very often. “The fate of this galaxy may rest upon your actions.”
“Blah blah blah…” I roll my eyes.
“You're kidding me, right?”
“I don't want to be responsible for the fate of the universe. You can’t seriously think I’m the Chosen One.”
“This conversation is over,” he barks.
“Okay fine. But I would still like to apply to schools. I would still like to think that maybe things will work out. Maybe the Draconians won’t destroy everything and everyone I love. Maybe I still have a chance of having a regular life.“
“Look, I understand,” he sighs, softening his tone. “I really do. All I know is that no place is safe with the Crimson Lord terrorizing every corner of the galaxy. What we need to do right now is focus on getting that sword back so we can open the Stargate. I know that’s a lot to ask of you at your age, but you must accept your true role. Your role as one of the Seven Sisters. It is a blessing bestowed upon you. You should be honored and proud.”
“Proud?” I say like he's lost his very last marble. Tears fill my eyes. “All I have done is fail. At everything. I lost my sword to the only other remaining Sister of Light. I nearly got St. Benedicts destroyed. You and Tom were both injured because of me. Ruby and Chad had to leave their friends and family because of me.”
“Don't say those things.”
“And Jax…” His name catches in my throat. Jax was only the second person I have trusted with my life. And the whole time he was a double agent working for the Draconians. And, to make matters worse, he's also in love with my evil star sister Calliope. Kind of leaves a bad taste in your mouth.”
“Jax is a scoundrel and a traitor,” my uncle says, anger rising in his voice. “He fooled all of us. Not just you.”
“I have to go.” I don't want to cry in front of them. I move to the door with my head down. “Thank you, Brother Carlyle. Maybe we can talk later.”
I slam the door and run down the hallway not looking back.
Chapter 7
I finally get to take my nap. Or, to be more accurate, I lay in bed for half an hour and cry.
When I get up, the sun has long since set, and it's nearly 7:30. I was supposed to be at the gym at 7:00 p.m. for a combat training session with ex-Navy SEALS Tyler and Jake.
I text them that I'm going to be late, change my clothes, and head over to the gym — that’s actually just an underground bunker filled with some secondhand sports equipment.
When I get there, I run through my paces with Tyler and Jake. We lift weights, do interval sprints and stretch. They’re both super hot and totally sweet, and make nearly every girl swoon, but for some reason, neither one of them does anything for me. I suppose that’s good. It helps me focus on our work.
“Holy cow, Astrid,” Tyler says, wiping the sweat away. “What's gotten into you today?”
“No kidding,” Jake agrees. “You brought your fighting spirit with you.”
I shrug like I have no idea. “Just a little pent up stress I wanted to get rid of.”
“Now that we have you nice and warm let's run a few tests,” Tyler smiles. The smile is only a little off-putting considering these “tests” are partially designed to nearly killed me.
The Prophecy of the Seven Sisters of Light states, somewh
ere in the small print, that each sister is born with an immunity. Which I guess is sort of like our own private superpower. Still, apparently, none of us can fly or shoot lasers out of our eyeballs.
Which is a major disappointment.
But one of my sisters didn't need to breathe. She could be underwater or in an oxygen-less environment for as long as she wanted. Another could walk through flames.
We don't know what Calliope's immunity was. She kept it hidden from us. That was smart considering she knew she was a double agent the whole time.
So far we’ve discovered all the things I'm not immune to.
For example, I need air. Fire burns me. I'm not telekinetic or telepathic. And while I'm a little bit faster and a little bit stronger than the average human, I'm still not super strong or super fast when judged on an alien scale.
I grab my bottle of water while Tyler and Jake flip through a clipboard with a bunch of documents attached.
I ask, “So guys what's up for today?”
“We're going to try elevation today.” Jake scribbles something on the clipboard then looks toward the ceiling.
“You mean you're going to see if I have an immunity to heights?”
“Yep!” Tyler claps his hands enthusiastically.
“How exactly is one immune to heights,” I ask, looking up at a platform on the other side of the gym that wasn’t there yesterday.
“You’ll see,” he winks. “I have a good feeling about this one being your superpower.”
“Stop calling them superpowers.” Jake frowns. “She doesn't have superpowers because she's not a superhero. Astrid has enhanced senses and abilities.”
Tyler gives us an exaggerated sigh. “Wait? She’s not Wonder Woman?”
“Sorry to disappoint, buddy,” I say. “I’m just a run-of-the-mill little old alien. Not an Amazonian.”
“Maybe you’re from the planet Krypton?” he suggests.
“She’s not Supergirl, either,” Jake snaps. “Let’s get started.”
I’m distressed to learn that the plan is to see if I can jump from a three-story building and land unharmed. I suppose that could come in handy. It's still not as good as lasers from my eyes or invisibility, but I guess it's worth a shot.
After some discussion, it's decided that we won't start with a three-story jump. Instead, they've brought in some scaffolding that the hotel painters use. We begin at eight feet above the ground. That might not sound very high, but when you're standing up there looking down, it suddenly seems like a bigger deal.
“Okay, Astrid. You ready?” Tyler asks, holding up his cell phone to videotape.
Did I mention that all of our failed experiments have been recorded on Tyler’s cell phone? I half expect to find a blooper reel on the internet of me failing test after test.
Letting go of the side of the scaffolding, I close my eyes and say, “Ready.”
And then I jump.
After a short free fall, I managed to land on both feet, but a sharp pain shoots up my legs to my knees. Still, I somehow landed semi-gracefully.
“Let's raise her up to twelve feet,” Jake says, adjusting the scaffolding.
I climb back up and jump again.
This time when I hit the ground, I still stay on both feet, but I lurch forward catching myself with my hands in order to not fall on my face.
“Not as pretty as the first jump, but you made it,” Tyler says scribbling on his clipboard. “Let's go to eighteen.”
Eighteen feet is just a little higher than it would be if you decided to jump off the roof of a two-story house.
I look down at Tyler and Jake’s eager faces on the ground waiting for me to jump. My knees ache and my feet sting which makes me pretty sure that this is not my enhanced sense.
“Ready when you are, Astrid,” Jake calls up to me.
“Um… about that? Not going to happened.” I start back down the scaffolding.
“What?” Tyler sounds astonished. “But you were doing so well.”
“I was not doing so well. This is crazy. Jumping from ridiculous heights is not my superpower. In fact, I'm becoming more and more sure that I don't have any enhanced senses.”
“Come on.” Jake tries to encourage me. “That's not true. We just haven't found it yet.”
“Maybe, but you guys are going to kill me before we discover it. I would've broken both of my legs jumping from that height.”
Tyler shrugs, “We’d prefer not to kill you.” k'12
“Or break any bones,” Jake adds.
“I appreciate that, guys,” I nod, heading toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
On my way out of the gym, I pass a cluster of photographs in cheap plastic frames that someone must have brought from St. Benedicts. In the back, there a picture of me standing next to Jax in front of that ridiculous obstacle course. We each have an arm wrapped around the other one shoulder. I pause to take a good look at it. I remember that day. It was right after I broke the record on the obstacle course, but before Calliope showed up.
I pick it up and study it carefully. Gosh, I look happy. So does Jax. I feel a pang of sadness that quickly morphs into anger.
I slide the photograph out from the frame and tear it in half, then in half again. I deposit my handful of confetti into the garbage can as I leave.
Heading toward the elevator, Ruby comes running towards me. “Oh thank God I found you, Astrid!”
“What's wrong?”
She hesitates. I can tell by the look on her face that it’s bad news.
“Tom has disappeared.”
Chapter 8
“Gone?” I repeat, not sure how a two-ton alien kick-ass guardian beast can just disappear. “What do you mean gone?”
“Someone left the gate open.” Ruby looks stricken.
“So what? Tom is used to coming and going as he pleases,” I say, but there’s something in her eyes that’s got me worried. “You're not telling me something.”
Ruby finally confesses. “We found blood. We're not sure if it's Tom’s or not.”
“How much blood?”
“A lot.” She pauses, “Too much.”
When our group arrived here from Oregon, figuring out where to keep Tom, who was still recovering from his fight with Calliope’s Drolgon, was a little bit of a problem.
Huge alien creatures in the city don't usually go over so well.
Eventually, the hotel cleared out part of a remote docking bay at the back of the hotel, turning it into a stable of sorts.
I follow Ruby through the maze of hallways toward the industrial loading docks. My uncle is already there with Simmons and Tanaka.
Fitz stands in front of us giving instructions. “Alright, everyone. You have a map in front of you. We've given everyone a five block radius fanning out from here. We suspect that the Drolgon may be injured, so it's likely you’ll find a blood trail.”
My uncle interjects. “Tom is also capable of shape shifting. He could very easily have turned himself into a bird and flown up high, or a sea creature that’s 20 miles down the Potomac by now. So it’s important you think outside the box. A wounded rat or pigeon could be Tom.”
My group consists of me, Chad, Ruby and her new boyfriend Waylon. Agent Simmons also comes with us.
What in the world happened to my Tom?
We head up 16th Street toward 1st. The city is quiet as we pass an upscale restaurant winding down for the night. D.C. is a city that rolls up the streets pretty early in the evening.
No one inside the swanky eatery pays any attention to our group as we head down 1st Street. So far, we’ve seen no sign of a huge alien space monster.
“Maybe he's back to his old self and just wanted to explore,” Ruby suggests optimistically.
Chad chimes in, “Right, maybe he just decided to go out for a while.”
“Maybe,” I nod. “But why the blood?”
No one has an answer to that obvious question.
Walking down First Avenue Northwest,
past a cluster of tall office buildings, we don't find anything. We stroll on silently until we pass an alleyway.
Waylon spots something on the ground just beyond the mouth of the alleyway. “Hey guys, I can't tell in this light if this pool of liquid is blood or motor oil.”
We all huddle over the dark puddle on the pavement. Agent Simmons pulls a vile from her bag, bends down and collects a small sample. She stands turning to the light where we can see the liquid is a rusty orange.
My heart drops. “That's Tom's blood. It has to be. That's the right color.”
Simmons shakes her head. “Doesn’t mean it’s Tom’s blood.”
“What else could it be?”
“It could be a thousand things,” she replies in her always perfectly calm voice.
Just as we're about to cross the street, a District of Columbia Animal Control car comes around the corner with its lights flashing.
“Uh oh. This can't be good,” I hear Ruby mutter to Waylon under her breath.
“Let’s find out what they know,” Agent Simmons says waving the car down.
“Are you sure we want to talk to them?” Ruby asks cautiously.
It's been drilled into our heads since the moment we arrived that we need to keep our identity secret. No one is supposed to know we’re here. We're not supposed to talk to strangers.
“Let me handle it,” Simmons says as she walks over to the slowing animal control vehicle. “Good evening, officer.”
The weary animal control guy leans toward the already open passenger side window. “You the ones that reported the injured animal?”
Agent Simmons doesn’t hesitate for a second. “We did. We left the garage open, and Tom got out. We’re afraid he might have gotten hit by a car or something. Did you find him?”
The animal control officer frowns, “Could you describe your animal?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Big, shaggy. Lots of energy.”
“Shaggy?” he asks.
“Yes.” Simmons leaning in looking concerned. “Have you seen our Tom?”
“No, ma’am. Sorry to say I haven't seen your dog,” he tells her, assuming “shaggy” means a dog.