Jamb (The Cornerstone Series)

Home > Other > Jamb (The Cornerstone Series) > Page 10
Jamb (The Cornerstone Series) Page 10

by Misty Provencher


  But Garrett winks at me, and my skin turns into a canvas of goosebumps. He’s about as close as it gets, I think, to reading my mind, without being the Addo. But, he doesn’t read it perfectly, because five minutes later, we’re still headed down to the gym with Zane, bouncing off the walls behind us. We pass other Contego from other Curas along the way, including a few kids that are probably the same age as us. Everyone does the dutiful hello, but it’s not like anybody stops to chat.

  “Hey, how do you guys think Brando got back?” Zane asks when the hall momentarily clears out. “Do you think he dug out from the tunnels or do you think he got away from The Fury?”

  Garrett and Zaneen must’ve filled everyone in on how I collapsed the tunnels. I think again of Addo Chad, how vicious he looked, right before I killed him. I quiver and push away the thought and try to replace it again with the reminder of what he was doing to Iris and Zaneen.

  “Don’t know,” Garrett says, pushing the door open to the gym. The clank of weights and the whir of treadmills brings me shooting back to the moment. I hadn’t really thought of what it would be like to walk into the gym, but actually doing it makes me feel like the walls have turned into corsets, clasped around my lungs.

  The last time I was here was just a few days ago, after I pulled the trapeze lever in the hidden pocket door that led down to what used to be Nok and Addo’s hidden apartment. The Veritas ‘apartment’ had a ton of hidden tunnels that led both in and out, and pulling that lever was supposed to have collapsed all of them, since The Fury had found the tunnels too. We couldn’t risk The Fury making it into the secured core of the hotel.

  But the thought that maybe Mark’s body is still down there, right beneath our feet, right now, makes my stomach do a sickening somersault that leaves it upside down. My feet are stuck and I can’t make them move over the threshold. Zane runs into my back with an oomph and Garrett turns to see me frozen in the doorway.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Garrett says. He glances at the back wall, the floor. He gets it.

  “C’mon, you two,” Zane says beneath his breath. “Let’s take a minute before we start.”

  Strangers, from our community, are watching us from the machines and the training mats. There are more Contego who are probably around our age than I expected. Two blond guys watch us carefully from one of the mats and I can’t tell if they’re sizing us up or just checking us out. A reedy black girl pauses in her routine to glance at us, lingering on Zane, and an older couple, standing at the edge of the blond guy’s mat, watch us openly. I don’t think it’s suspicion that draws all the stares as much as it is curiosity. I know I feel the same way about all of them.

  I step inside the gym doors stiffly and Zane pops in, sliding around me. Garrett takes my hand and it is what comes through the connection of my skin against his that powers my legs across the floor. Leaning close to him, I feel like he can protect me against the stares and the memories of walking through this gym, after pulling the trapeze lever.

  From what I can see, the hidden door is still hidden behind the rows of treadmills.

  We go to the laundry room, which is located at the furthest point in the room from the hidden door, and step inside among the slooshing washers. It stinks like too much bleach. We stand at the end of the aisle full of washers and dryers, where the sound of the machines obscure most of our conversation from any Contego who might try to focus in on it. Garrett grabs a rolling basket, heaped with a mound of clean towels.

  “Might as well look like we’re supposed to be here,” he says, so we all start folding towels as we talk.

  “Sean said that the Veritas tunnels were impossible to find,” I whisper, and Zane leans his head a little closer to hear me. “Sean said that it’s only happened a few times in the entire history of the human race—but, The Fury did it somehow. And so did Mark and Brandon, by accidentally stumbling on Nok. Maybe the Veritas’ old ways of hiding their tunnels aren’t working anymore. Or maybe one of the Veritas has gone to The Fury?”

  “Uh uh, not the Veritas,” Zane says, snapping out a towel before he begins folding. Garrett nods in agreement.

  “No, the Veritas aren’t the same as us. They’re pure,” Garrett says. “They regulate the energy, but they don’t side with it. I think the tunnels might just be easier to locate than they used to be. There’s all kinds of tracking and technology and boring machines that Addo Chad could’ve used to find them.”

  “Good point. The Manga leaves and Abditium roots can only go so far,” Zane adds, “but it’s not like either is gonna camouflage spit against satellite tracking and high-tech detection equipment.”

  “Then why hasn’t The Fury found the tunnels a long time ago?”

  “Because this isn’t the same old Fury we used to know,” Garrett says.

  “I bet they’re still going nuts,” Zane says, folding a washcloth into a crooked square. “but this Mastermind guy is probably catching the ones that are right on the edge of the crazy cliff. I was thinking about it. If he’s hitting that sweet spot, right before they totally lose it…”

  “When they’re still desperate to do anything he wants, but too nuts to be able to collect anything from him,” Garrett adds.

  “Bingo,” Zane says.

  “But the Mastermind’s also got to be intimidating them somehow. They’d have to be just as afraid of not getting what they want.”

  “That girl that rode you down into the tunnel, Gare,” Zane stops folding to itch his chin, “after the Free Ball crashed—she was on the brink of cuckoo, but she was still pretty goal-oriented. She seemed a little scared of us, but she didn’t say anything about being scared of anyone else. She was just excited that she was getting a new face.”

  Both boys nod, in thought.

  “I wonder if your Free Ball is still stuck in that tree,” Garrett says.

  “Doubt it. The Fury probably busted it to bits,” Zane frowns. “That sucker was impaled. You know, Robs said she stuffed my Hydrohome into the rubber, in case it ever went up again.”

  “Freddie hasn’t gotten any signals?”

  “Nada.”

  “Well, I’m done folding laundry,” I say, putting my last towel folded towel onto the stack we’ve made.

  “Yeah?” Garrett’s eyes sparkle a little as he looks at me. “You ready to work it, Rebel?”

  “Yeah,” I say and Zane dumps the rest of the towels.

  “Then let’s go, Nali Girl,” he says.

  ***

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zane grumbles.

  Garrett only just started explaining some of the field colors, and what to look for, when Zaneen walks in with Milo. We all stop talking to watch them pick their way across the room. Zaneen is first and Milo follows right behind her. As Milo passes the other three training mats, he doesn’t seem to notice how the other Cura’s Contego pause as he passes by. He doesn’t notice, because he’s got all his attention on Zaneen’s butt.

  “What’re you doing here?” Zane asks when Zaneen stops at the edge of the training mat. She looks at her fingernails, instead of her twin.

  “We were bored, so we came to watch,” she says, but she doesn’t look exactly stoked to be here. Milo doesn’t seem to be lost in the funk of his indecision anymore either. His eyes to flick to me, even as Zane asks him, “We? Shouldn’t one of you be figuring out how to write some Memories?”

  “Back off, zit rag,” Zaneen says.

  “Ya know, we’re not all jammed up in this hotel for kicks, Belladonna. We’re here because of his Cura.”

  “I’m standing right here. You can talk to me,” Milo says. Zane pivots right toward him.

  “Least you could do is your part, brother.”

  “Noted,” Milo says with what’s becoming his signature, dry smile. “Thanks for your understanding.”

  “Nuts. She found us,” Zaneen groans just as Deeta pops through the gym doors. She actually bounces, like a happy little beach ball, all the way to our mat. She stops at the edg
e, right beside Milo.

  “Hi,” she bubbles, glancing at Zaneen, but resting her gaze on Milo. “I couldn’t find you in the courtyard, so I figured I’d take a break too. I can catch up on my writing tonight. Maybe we can try to pull an all-nighter together, Milo. Maybe the Memories will come easier for you at night.”

  A little squeal bursts out of her and I imagine that Deeta’s picturing herself, cuddled up beside Milo on a couch, writing out page after page of the deceased’s Memories while taking breaks to sip hot chocolate and look into one another’s eyes. Milo shifts so he’s a millimeter closer to Zaneen. He hangs his thumbs in his front pockets and does a little chuckle that seems like it will work its way into an excuse, but doesn’t.

  Zane turns away from all of them, rolling his eyes.

  “Not sure this is the place for you three,” Garrett says, glancing around the room. “With all the Contego in here, working on our techniques.”

  “I come down here and run on the treadmill all the time. No one seems to care.” Milo shrugs. “We don’t have to stay, if it’s going to freak anybody out. We were just looking for something to do.”

  “It doesn’t freak me…” Zane starts, but Zaneen cuts him off with a snort.

  “I thought the big bad Contego wasn’t afraid of the Alo?”

  Deeta adds, “It’s not like Milo or I could do any of this, even if we saw you do it a grillion times.”

  Zane looks back to Garrett with a sigh. Garrett just shrugs.

  “It doesn’t really matter if they stay, does it?” I say. “Deeta’s right…the Alo don’t fight, so even if they see what we’re doing, it’s not like they’re going to do anything with it.”

  Garrett shrugs again. “The Fury have Contego and all the Contego know everything we’re showing her. It’s not like it’s anything new.”

  “I still don’t like him being here,” Zane grumbles as he passes by and Garrett tips his head with a tiny nod of agreement, but they still take their sparring positions across the mat from each other. Milo, Zaneen and Deeta take a seat at the edge, leaning their backs against the gym wall.

  “Rule number one,” Zane says to me over his shoulder.

  “If you open your field, you move your Cavis,” I say.

  “Good job,” he says as his field breaks open and he swipes his own Cavis away from his diabetes-damaged pancreas. And even though I know he’s doing it, Zane is such a master, I never even see his Cavis or where he puts it. “Now, rule number two.”

  “Use sequences of movements to keep your Cavis off the site of your actual weakness and to keep your opponent confused about where your actual weakness is.”

  “Atta girl,” Garrett grins. His approval makes me feel like I could win wars. Then he takes his first jab at Zane.

  “Rule number three?” Zane says, jumping away and swiping for Garrett’s Cavis. It’s a hint.

  “Rule number three…use sequences of movements to push your opponent’s Cavis back to it’s actual weakness point,” I say.

  “Very good, Nali Girl. Who knew you were actually listening?” Zane smirks, as Garrett moves in close.

  “She took out her last opponent all on her own.” Garrett swipes Zane’s Cavis out from behind his knee and pushes it toward his pancreas. Just as fast, Zane pushes the Cavis away and replies with a round kick that only narrowly misses Garrett’s side. Zane moves into position to deliver another hit, but before he strikes, he swipes both hands across his chest to zip his Cavis out of sight again.

  “You were saying,” Garrett says, darting away, “that you thought she wasn’t paying attention?”

  “Let’s see then,” Zane says. “Rule number four.”

  “Rule number four,” I say, tapping my lip. “I don’t remember you telling me rule number four.”

  “How to hide your Cavis,” Garrett says, swiping a low kick that Zane jumps over. I expect them to pause their sparring to explain, but they don’t.

  “Here!” Zane says, pointing to an orange-red patch in his field. “See it?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I say. Zane moves back, but Garrett lands a hard punch on the same orange-red patch. Zane just exhales.

  “Hardly hurt,” he says. “Because it wasn’t on a Cavis, but,” Zane pulls back and slides a finger over the patch. He pulls it down like a puff of moveable smoke, and as he does I see it. The tiny, gray patch of his weakest Cavis, is stuck there beneath the orange red.

  “It’s the Contego’s answer to Camo,” Zane says as he dodges Garrett’s punch, but throws another that makes Garrett double over with a cough.

  Without meaning to, without thinking, I’m on the mat. I just know that my instinct is to annihilate Zane.

  I dart at him and he puts up his hands to block me, but I’m too fast. I land the first punch to his jaw, but he dodges the other two. My body feels furious and volatile in my field, like the anger is too large, a balloon expanded beyond capacity and about to pop. I come at Zane with another punch, a kick, an elbow, and Garrett stands back, arms crossed on his chest, a smile spreading ear to ear.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Zane says as I narrowly miss him. Then I slam his leg. He limps out of the way of my next swing. “My bad…I should know not to…”

  He dodges out of my way, but I come up with a kick that hits close enough to my target that he tumbles onto his back, coughing. But I’m not through. I’m on top of him, one hand around Zane’s throat and another holding onto his hair, when I feel Garrett, his hands on mine, relaxing my grip.

  “Never mess with Vieos…” Zane chokes, as I snap back into myself. My body only relaxes as Garrett lifts me away from his best friend. Another second and the situation hits home. I’m totally mortified, hands over my mouth, as Zane scoots to a sitting position and tries to catch his breath.

  My focus broadens and it’s only then that I realize how narrow my focus was. I don’t think I would’ve killed him. I know it. The realization floods me at the same time that Zaneen’s laughter fills my ears.

  “Oh my gosh,” Zaneens hoots breathlessly, “That was epic! Pound him again, Nali! Oh girl, just one more time…for me!”

  “You okay?” Garrett asks, ducking down, so that my eyes are in the direct line of his gaze.

  “I’m okay,” I say, even though I’m not sure I am. I wanted to kill Zane. I drop down on my butt beside him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine,” Zane coughs. “Guess we hopscotched to rule number five. Power of Unity.”

  “When you attack a Vieo, you aren’t just attacking a warrior. You are attacking their hope,” Garrett says. “It’s like hitting the nuclear core of a person.”

  “You can control it more after being Bound,” Zane says. “Just ask Robin. She can stand around and let people beat on me all day now.”

  “But it’s the same reason why you never, ever, ever, ever, ever go after somebody’s kids,” Zaneen says. When I look at her, she gives me an innocent-and-adorable shrug. “My daddy would filet an army for me.”

  “It’s an even stronger impulse with mothers,” Garrett explains. “Because their children are a direct hope, from their own blood. Even though you don’t want to mess with the fathers, the mothers have been directly connected to their children. They’ll kill you before you can even blink.”

  “So, you can control it a little more when you are defending your spouse.” Zane says. “I’ll be happy when you two are married. Might be the only thing that keeps me alive.”

  “But you can’t control it if you’re defending your own kid?” Milo interjects. Garrett and Zane both twist on the mat to look at him. Milo’s asking too many questions.

  “No, you can’t,” Garrett says. His tone is so cold, it could freeze my heartbeat.

  “That makes sense,” Milo says. “You know, how in the wild, Mama Bears will rip you to…”

  “Yeah, it makes sense,” Zane says, getting to his feet. “Anything else you want to know?”

  “No,” Milo smiles, leaning back against the wall again. “I’m go
od.”

  Zane blows his hair off his face as he looks away. “Gare, how about you and Nali do a round?”

  Garrett shakes his head.

  “Come on,” Zane says. “You can see just how compatible you are.”

  “I already know we’re perfectly compatible.”

  “We can tell that by fighting each other?” I ask. The idea of fighting Garrett is like swallowing a spikey peach pit sideways, but the idea of finding out just how compatible we are is completely exciting. I remember two girls in study hall that were taking magazine quizzes to find out if they were compatible with their boyfriends. I guess this is the Contego way of figuring that out.

  Garrett’s rolls his tongue in his cheek as he stares at Zane like he’s going to kill him. So I ask Zane. “Can we?”

  “Sure can,” Zane smiles. “If you come out of the ring looking like road kill, then your relationship has major weaknesses and you shouldn’t be together.”

  Garrett rolls his eyes. “And this is supposed to be done later on—a lot later—with the Addo, to show him that you are meant to be bound.”

  “Sean didn’t have to do it,” I say.

  “He’s Simple and his Binding is only symbolic anyway,” Zane says. “Our rules don’t apply to the Simple.”

  “What if we do this…and I…you know…” I shrug at Garrett. “Pulverize you?”

  Garrett laughs. “You won’t.”

  “What if you pulverize me?”

  “I won’t.”

  “But it can happen, right?” I ask and Zane nods. “So what if it does?”

  “If you can hit him three times, then your relationship has too many problems and you’re not compatible for each other,” Zane says.

  “Robin decked him twice,” Zaneen offers. Zane shrugs.

  “She did, but like I said, it doesn’t count. It has to be three. Three times and you’re not compatible. Tapping each other once or twice is totally normal. As long as you’re not bludgeoning each other.”

  “Let’s try,” I say, but Garrett shakes his head.

 

‹ Prev