Hidden Light

by Nikki Bolvair

I wish I was back in bed.

  A second later, I blinked, and I was back at my mom’s cabin on the queen-sized bed, curled in my comforter. Well, Zander’s comforter.

  I groaned into a pillow that still held the lingering scent of Zander’s masculine cologne; that's how they did it. It wasn’t exactly where I wanted to go, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was a bed.

  I lifted my face from the pillow and noticed my hand still gripped the apple. As if it sensed my attention, it warmed against my palm, and the peace of love poured into me. I took a bite, closed my eyes, and dream-walked through the million memories of the honored boy I couldn’t save. The light within me splintered until it filled my bones, my blood, and my soul. It was then that his light became mine.

  I was Lydent.

  Chapter Four

  Immediately after receiving Philip’s memories, I fell into a deep sleep no one could shake me from and woke to a massive headache and ringing in my ears. I yawned to pop my eardrums to make it stop, but it continued. When I reached out to flip the switch on the alarm clock, the ringing got closer, more like a school bell now.

  I promptly landed on a hard and unforgiving floor. My hands and knees jarred as I landed, and a groan slipped from my lips.

  “Ms. Reed,” a voice snapped, and my eyes opened to stare at the white linoleum floor beneath me. “You. Are. Late.”

  I scrambled up and readjusted my wrinkled, slept-in dress over my legs as I peered around what appeared to be a classroom. My mouth fell open. Children smirked from where they sat in desks in front of me, wearing some sort of uniform. Three windows lined the right side of the way with at least a four-story forest view.

  I turned back to the students; not a single girl in sight. “What happened to my bedroom?”

  And you know what? The little rascals snickered! Like, boom, they erupted into laughter. A noise even worse than the bell!

  “Ms. Reed! Please stop this nonsense at once!”

  I turned around to face a balding man with an expression of disapproval gleaming through his glasses. He planted his broad hands on his desk as he leaned over it to peer at me.

  I pointed to the disarray of papers on his desk and cleared my throat. “Um, I’m confused. Was I sleeping on that?”

  My question set off another roar of laughter.

  The teacher’s eyes narrowed as he straightened and tapped his hand on his desk—which I’m pretty sure I rolled off of—and explained, “Welcome to the Hydrent School for Lydents, Ms. Reed. If you are late, then your restraining bracelet will assure that you arrive on time. Awake or sleeping.” His eyes raked down my frame with disapproval before they met mine, impatient once again. “Surely someone went over proper attire and uniforms with you?”

  My brows dipped, and my mouth opened like a gaping fish.

  The teacher sighed and flicked his wrist. The dress I wore vanished, replaced with a navy-blue pencil skirt that hung down to the knees and a plain white dress shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves. The school logo was embroidered on the breast pocket, and my feet were bare.

  I glanced at him with a brow raised. “No shoes?”

  He folded his arms, adjusted his glasses, then gave me a firm glare. “You’re going to have to learn to do that yourself.” He pointed to a seat near the back. “Sit.”

  I sat, and the young boy next to me leaned over. “He’s nice with you. Most of us had to start out from our skivvies. But I guess he couldn’t do that seeing as you're a girl and all.”

  “Uh, yeah?”

  “You’re lucky.”

  I turned back to the teacher and put my feet on the low rail in front of me. That was the teacher being nice?

  I learned Mr. Turner, the teacher, taught Conjuring. By the end of class, I was able to conjure up a pair of sandals for my feet. It wasn’t as easy as some may think. I had to have the right image in my head, details and all, in order to correctly produce what I wanted.

  From Mr. Turner's class, I wandered the halls to Mr. Yales’ room. He taught Lydent History. I found a seat in the back. Being the only girl felt quite unusual. At least in this class, there seemed to be more teens than kids.

  “Today, class,” Mr. Yales began, “we’re going to do an overview of what we learned during the year, to help Ms. Reed catch up. We’ll start with the basics. Someone summarize the Lydent War.”

  Several hands rose.

  I glanced around in confusion. Why were we starting with a war instead of how they came about?

  Mr. Yales pointed to a boy in the middle row. “Mr. Frankford, go ahead.”

  The kid cleared his throat. “It all started with the council that was made up of fourteen families. Each generation, seven of the families sat on the council, and then they would switch with the other seven. Only guys were allowed on the council, and if there weren’t any, then one of the guys who left their spot on the council could sit again. It only happened once. The Caldwells had two girls. The first one, Anna, argued about not being able to participate on the council. Lamont Hall, her boyfriend, supported her, but they weren’t bonded or anything.”

  “What does bonded mean?” I asked, curious.

  Another boy spoke up. “It’s your mate. Your other half. The one who shares your mark.”

  “You mean the silver tattoo some of you have?”

  Mr. Yales nodded. “Yes, Ms. Reed. It’s the mark we all get when we turn thirteen.” He nodded to the boy who answered my question about bonding. “Mr. Vincent, pick up where Mr. Frankford left off.”

  “When Anna argued that a woman should be allowed to sit on the council, people got upset. Some, because the council denied her the right to sit with them while others were not for any change. Of course, she became upset but couldn’t do anything about it. But she got sneaky. Being a healer, she asked some of her patients to join with her in her cause. They swayed others to their side. They argued with the men, and when they were still denied, Anna and her followers decided to go another route. Anna mixed some stuff together to make an enhancement tea that made her stronger. Kinda like steroids, but with magic. Once she knew it worked, she gave some to her followers and got them hyped up on it, and they decided they would go to war. Then Lamont, Anna’s boyfriend, got suspicious and told the council. The council told Lamont to kill her. His sword went through her heart.”

  “Then Anna Caldwell cursed us,” another boy scoffed.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Mr. Yales rounded his desk and leaned back against it. “What he means is, Anna Caldwell used all the light she collected, cursed her lover to everlasting life, and took away the ability for women to bear any females with magic. Which was a problem because magic passes down while in the womb. No magic equals weaker bloodlines.”

  My brows rose. Surely, he was joking. “Are you serious? Why?”

  His brows furrowed as he considered my question.

  “Probably because she wasn’t right in the head,” a student sneered.

  The teacher's mouth pressed together. “Quiet. Anna wasn’t insane. She just fought for what she believed in: equality. And in the end, she most likely cursed us to spite her lover. It has been said that he still walks the world today, waiting for the chance to sacrifice his life honorably for a girl of Anna’s own kin.”

  “To break the curse?” Confused, I glanced around at the other students. “This is all a myth, right?”

  Mr. Yales shook his head. “No. This is very real. Our race would have died if we hadn’t found Anna’s tea concoction and made it into a vaccine. But even then, it had its own side effects. Over time, the council discovered the vaccine caused the birth of girls to decrease. Now, only true Lydent mates and married Lydents can produce a female with magic light, with the exception of mate-born babies, whose light is stronger and more powerful. When a Lydent marries a human woman, they can only have sons, but they have little light.”

  “Can Lydent mates and married Lydents have boys as well?” I knew the answer already because of my ste
pbrothers, but I wanted confirmation.

  “Yes.”

  I frown. “How about when a Lydent woman chooses to marry a human?”

  A hush filled the room as the teacher’s brows shot up in surprise. “It’s forbidden. Surely, you can understand why.”

  Unhappy, I pursed my lips. “And if she does anyway?”

  The teacher glared as he tried to come up with an explanation, but a boy in the seat next to me answered instead. “We don’t speak of it.”

  “Precisely.” Mr. Yales bit off.

  “Okay,” I spoke cautiously through the sudden tension in the room. “How many females are there with the light?”

  Mr. Yales’s expression cleared as he went back into teaching mode. “Before the curse, there were many of us. Now there’s roughly two million Lydents in the world today. In this state we have four females, including you. In the whole world, the last count for them is in the hundreds. Believe it or not, Ms. Reed, we are a dying race.”

  I swallowed. “And how many of them received their light as a gift?”

  He pierced me with a stare. “According to Lydent records, it has never happened before. You very well could be the first.”

  Throughout the rest of class, I pondered the history lesson. The Lydent women back then dealt with female rights repression. Despite the downfall of Anna, if Myra’s place on the council was any proof, she did make an impact. Even so, it seemed the Lydent women still have much to overcome, like who they’re allowed to marry. While I understood the council's reasoning behind it, I didn’t agree with the rule.

  ***

  After those two classes was Light Talents. Apparently, shimming only worked for places I’ve visited before, unlike my restraining bracelet which could take me anywhere. How? My gut told me it was someone from the council. So, I wasn’t surprised when I was shimmed out of the hall and straight into another classroom.

  Noticing the sweet scent of peppermint in the air made me pause as it took me back to a time when life was simpler. To when the colder desert—if winter set in—allowed for hot cocoa to steam in a Styrofoam cup. The scent reminded me of Christmas. Life was good then.

  I paused, wrapped up in the past, until the sound of typing keys shattered my memories and jolted me back to the present.

  Peering at the empty desks throughout the room, I realized there were no other students. My teacher, who sat in the back of the room typing at his desk, muttered to himself, oblivious to my presence.

  He was young—okay, not young—but younger than my last two teachers. Maybe mid-twenties. A crisp, blue, collared shirt unbuttoned partway showed no sign of chest hair. The wrinkled shirt creased at the elbows, as if he’d worked at that computer for hours. A hint of beard growth shadowed his jawline, while his brown hair stood up in untidy ruffles. At a guess, he ran his fingers through it a dozen times that day, probably due to frustration.

  My Light Talent teacher's mutterings began to climb in volume. Evidently, he needed a break from his work.

  I shuffled forward a bit to make myself known, but got nothing. I cleared my throat and bam! He reacted like a gun had gone off. At first, he disappeared. Like, white light, poof, gone. But then he came back and charged at me with glowing hands.

  I screamed and tried to shim away, but my damn restraining bracelet shocked me. I was stuck in the classroom! Hands aglow, my teacher shot orbs of light my way. I jerked out of their path and scrambled for the door. As I grabbed the door handle, one of the orbs burst to the side of me. Shit. I jerked on the handle. It wouldn’t budge!

  My heart raced as I turned, falling to the floor and threw my hands over my head and screamed like the hallows of death were at my door. “Aaah! Stop!”

  The orbs stopped coming. I waited for the pain but got nothing. I peered around my arms to find the glint of green eyes close to my face. Crouching in front of me, he frowned then stood and folded his arms. “This room is sealed. No one should be able to enter!”

  I left my cowering position to stand, and dusted off imaginary lint from my skirt. My mind went a million miles a minute as I tried to keep hold of my hysteria. I’d been seconds away from losing my shit, and let some of it out. “You’re crazy! And to think they wanted you to be my damn teacher!”

  “I’m not a teacher, sweetheart. Now, why are you here?”

  I shook my wrist at him, the one with the restraining bracelet. “It was this. The damn thing brought me here.”

  His hard gaze shot to the band, and immediately his position relaxed. His now-suspicious gaze came back to mine. “A restraining bracelet. I wasn’t aware we had a female Lydent your age. You’re kind of old to be here. Most Lydents graduate by thirteen, and you’re what, nineteen, twenty?”

  I let my arm drop lower, and my hand circled my wrist as I sent a glare his way. “Eighteen.”

  He lifted a cell phone out of his pants pocket. “Hold on.”

  Turning away, he put the phone up to his ear, then glanced back to guardedly watch me. What did he think I was going to do? Take my whole hundred-and-thirty-five-pound body and charge him? I had muscle, but not much. Plus, I was innocent! I had magic, yes, but so far, the worst I could do was pelt him with sandals. And what? He believed I had the strength to do something to his tall, muscular frame? He was crazy. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted him as my teacher.

  Whoever he spoke to caused him to grunt in agreement before he clipped out a goodbye and ended his call. He clenched the phone in his hand and frowned. Boy, he needed to work through some anger issues.

  “So, you're new,” he said, giving me a once-over.

  I tensed, ready for another strike, but this time his eyes squinted with new curiosity. He shook his head, dismissing his thoughts, and gestured to a desk in front of the classroom. “Take a seat. I want you to tell me what happened.”

  I side-stepped him and cautiously made my way to the desk, afraid the quickness of my movements would anger him. I slid into the chair. Anger at him brought on my snarkiness, so I shot my own question back at him. “Don't you keep up with current events? It seems like everyone was notified except you.”

  I tensed after I spoke, mad at myself for provoking him. He only grunted, though, and took a seat on the desk, his arms folded.

  “This classroom”—he gestured around—“is typically used for research, not for light talent training. That class is in another area of the school. But because of your restraining bracelet”—he nodded to the silver bracelet around my wrist—“a change was sent from the council. I believe your father—”

  “He’s not my father,” I stated, my fingertips tracing an imaginary drawing on the desk. But even as I said the words, warmth filled my chest with the misinterpretation of Phillip being my father.

  “O-kay.” He drew out the word, as if unsure how to handle my interruption and tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Well, he received some information of unrest within that area of the school and felt it best to navigate you to safer ground.”

  My fingers unconsciously glided across the smooth desktop, my gaze still on him. “You mean place. Safer place.”

  He shrugged. “So, I received you.”

  My lips twisted, fingers coming to a stop. “It doesn't seem like a safe place. I was in here for a whole minute before I made my presence known.”

  He grunted. “There's a ward on this room. So only certain people can get through. I wasn't expecting anyone.”

  I went back to my tracing, and he straightened, still frowning. “But since you’re here instead of in class, why don’t I go over a few things with you?”

  My palm flattened against the hard surface, unsure about him, but nodded. Maybe he had some answers for me. “Okay.”

  He nodded. “Do you have your mark yet?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “Okay. How long has it been since you received the light?”

  My lips pursed, eyes shifting to the side as I counted the hours, before I glanced back to meet his gaze. “Um, a little o
ver twenty-four hours?”

  His eyes grew large. “Twenty-fou—how do you feel?”

  I shrugged, not sure why he would ask me, and continued my finger tracing along the desk surface. Was he concerned with my mental state? “Fine.”

  “Anything new happen since then? Little things that seem to be different? Not quite you?”

  I considered it for a second. “Not really. Unless you count shimming into my bedroom last night after I made a wish to be in bed. Other than that, no.”

  “Did you think of your bed when you made the wish?”

  I focused back for a brief second before answering. “Actually, I thought about going home, to the valley where I live, but shimmed to my mom’s cabin instead.”

  He nodded, as if he knew exactly what happened. “Makes sense. The restraining bracelet will only let you go places sanctioned by the council. It works like one of your human police anklets used on criminals, but clearly with a more fashionable design. The only difference is ours is more efficient.”

  My eyes narrowed. “So, I’m a prisoner?”

  His eyes crinkled. “Not you.”

  My fingers drummed against the desk.

  He cleared his throat. “Back to my question. Anything else unusual going on?”

  I shook my head, and he gestured to my hands. “Do you draw?”

  My fingertips stopped tracing imaginary lines, and I stared down at them. “I, uh…”

  “Let me get you some paper.” The teacher twirled his finger, and paper and pencil appeared on the desk top. “Sometimes talents could just be a new skill or much much more.” He gestured to the items when I didn't immediately pick up the pencil. “Draw while we talk. You might be surprised at the result.”

  “Uh, okay.” I picked up the pencil. smooth and thick against my fingertips like a real one should be.

  “Ask me questions,” he insisted as he sat and watched me draw.

  “How many people here in Flag are Lydents?” I kept my head down and concentrated on my work while he explained.

  “We’ve a fairly large group here. Other states have their own council, but the Supreme Council is in Massachusetts. They rule over this country.”