“What if you’re close to a fallout?” Jay asks. “And there’s still the matter of the Nyte who can cancel out others’ gifts. If you come up against that person, or anyone who has their power crystal, you won’t be able to use your flames.”
Internally, Al grudgingly admits he has a point.
“We should get back to work,” I say. “We’re here to train, after all.”
So Al and I take up our positions opposite Jay and Mendel. I don’t move. Al knows from experience that I never strike first, but since Jay acts by the same philosophy, either she or Mendel will have to start. If Al goes in, she knows I’ll have her back. But she also wants to stick to my don’t-move-first policy.
After a long silence, Mendel charges, Jay falling in line behind him, and Al darts forward to block him. I follow close behind, as before with Jay, and when Al deflects Mendel’s punch, I fly past her to intercept the major. Al shifts automatically so that her back is to me, like what Jay and I did in the first match, but Jay’s already slipped past to stand beside Mendel.
Mendel isn’t weak, but he’s not a difficult opponent. Not for Al. It would’ve been easy for her to take him down if he were alone, but every time he messes up or Al is about to knock him down for good, Jay steps in. When Al beats Mendel back, Jay is right behind him. He uses Mendel’s retreat as a chance to attack as well as a way to cover his partner. And when the major senses that he’s in trouble, unlike Mendel, he has no problem backing away.
I linger at Al’s back, waiting for a chance, making sure Jay and Mendel can’t sneak up on us. Al must know I’m here, because she falls back somewhat to regroup.
This time, Jay leads the attack. He’s faster than Mendel, though not much stronger physically. His blows are predictable, and while they push Al back, she’s in no danger of being hit. Mendel darts from around Jay toward Al, but I bolt forward to kick his feet out from under him. He slams to the ground for the fourth time.
“Our win,” I say.
“You didn’t even do anything until the end,” Al says with a frown.
“I didn’t need to do anything until the end. Sometimes waiting for your chance is the best course of action.”
Al rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t object.
“Why am I the one who keeps getting knocked to the ground?” Mendel mutters as he stands and brushes himself off. “I’m not that weak, am I?”
“Surely not,” I say, and am rewarded with a glare.
“You just need to be more patient,” Jay says. He’s clearly trying to hold back a smile. “You have to make sure your way is clear before you go for the attack. You knew Lai was waiting for an opening; you should’ve tried to draw her out, not gone straight for Johann.”
Mendel seems to actually listen closely before nodding once. Even more to my surprise, he’s the one who says, “Okay, let’s try again.”
24
LAI
BY THE TIME we finish training two hours later, we’ve each had mixed results of wins and losses. We all teamed up, and while I had a difficult time partnering with Mendel, it was a surprise for all of us that the worst pairing was Jay and Al. Neither of them could tell what the other was thinking or predict their partner’s movements. I think the two of them were more surprised than anyone to discover that they couldn’t work together effectively, although they did improve a lot during our practice. Even Mendel and I reached a fair enough level of teamwork.
“Okay, let’s stop here for today,” Jay says with a clap of his hands. He looks exhausted, probably because he’s been leading the group and trying to give pointers even while he was working just as hard as the rest of us. He really is a good leader. “We’ll have one more training session like this tomorrow afternoon. We need to work together as well as possible before we meet the rebels.”
No one says anything out loud to his statement, but we’re all thinking about it. About our chances of survival, and how all of us want to increase those odds. For possibly the first time since our team was formed, everyone really is on the same page. We all want the same thing and we’re all willing to work together for it.
“That’s all,” Jay says. “Rest well and let me know if you need anything.”
When Mendel and Al break off to talk, I turn to Jay. “You’d better rest up, too. You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night.”
“Who among us did?” Jay’s eyes won’t meet mine.
I slip my fingers through his and squeeze. “We’ll make it through this somehow.”
“Yeah. I just need time to sort everything out in my head.” He lets go first.
“Well, if you have the time and mindset, the Order is having a smaller meeting tomorrow night. I’d love it if you could come.”
“The night before we head out?”
“I’ve relayed the meeting with the rebels and its details to Fiona and the others already,” I say. “But I need to be there to help sort things out. Just in case … well, you know.”
The lines around his eyes tighten. “Yeah. Yeah. Unless something comes up, I’ll go. I did say I’d attend the meetings, after all.” And I want to see more of what the Order is about.
I smile. I’m glad he’s taking the Order seriously, even if he does still feel a little unsure about the whole thing. “All right. Do you want to play piano together tonight?” Maybe it would help him relax a bit.
He gives me a tired smile, but a genuine one. “Yeah, that sounds nice. I’ll meet you in the music hall, okay?”
“All right.”
He kisses me gently on the forehead when Al and Mendel aren’t looking, and then heads out with a wave over his shoulder.
Once Al also leaves, I catch up to Mendel before he can disappear.
He looks skeptical at my wanting to talk to him, but doesn’t say anything. He really has been odd today.
“So I heard you and Jay talked,” I say.
“Did you hear that, or did you snoop around our heads and find out about it?”
“A bit of both. Enough of the latter to see that you made the mistake of confusing Jay’s kindness for weakness.”
He grimaces. “If that’s all you wanted to say, I’m leaving.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the matter we discussed before.”
What is she talking about?
“You don’t have a very good memory, do you?”
“Shut it,” he says. It must be about my memories, then.
I grin. “Now that’s more like it. You’ve been so weirdly polite today I’d started to think you actually believed your own act.”
“You gonna tell me what this is about or not?” he asks. He acts irritated, and even his thoughts are irritated, but secretly, he finds my blatant disregard for his attempts at politeness relieving. He’s been trying to be nicer to everyone to try to become closer to us—of his own volition—but it’s a lot for him. He’d never admit it, but he likes the fact that I prefer his unaffected self.
“Tomorrow morning, we’re going on a little trip,” I say. “Meet me at the front gates at six.”
* * *
I’m much less enthusiastic about the next conversation I need to have. It was something I’d been thinking about even before the rebels wanted this “peace meeting,” but now, it’s become necessary.
Al is in our room, having just finished taking a shower after our joint training session. She looks up as I walk in and grins. “Hey, nice work today. I think our pair had the most wins in the end.”
I try to smile back and fail. Words aren’t coming, and in the pause, Al realizes something is wrong.
“Don’t worry about the meeting,” she says gently, incorrectly guessing the cause of my anxiety and making me feel even worse. “We’re the strongest there is. We’ll be all right.”
I shake my head. “Thank you, Al, but that’s not what I’m worried about.” Another pause. “We need to talk.”
Al frowns as she plops down on the edge of her bed. Did something happen? She looks really u
pset. “All right, shoot.”
My fingers tap against my leg. I walk to Al’s bed and sit beside her. Wait, maybe I should’ve sat on my own bed to put some distance between us. If she tries to hit me, can I dodge in time? Should I even try? I’d probably deserve it.
“You of all people being this quiet is weird,” Al says. Well, weirder than usual. “What is it already?”
“I’m a telepath,” I say, because I have no other way to say it. “It’s—that’s my gift.”
Al is very still and very quiet beside me. I can’t find it in me to look at her head-on, so I keep my gaze on my feet. The practical part of me says I should read Al’s mind to know what she’s thinking, and so that I can maybe come up with some good lines of defense beforehand. But I’m too scared.
“I can hear others’ thoughts and put my own thoughts in other people’s heads—mostly to pass on messages,” I go on. Her silence is unnerving, and I find it makes me unable to shut up. “I might have to use it on our next mission to talk with everyone secretly—so the rebels don’t overhear our plans or anything. I just wanted to warn you ahead of time. I mean, I should’ve told you before now, but I just…”
“Is that how you knew I was a girl?” Al asks quietly.
I don’t know how to answer. “I just wanted the team to work.”
“So you used your gift to blackmail me?” Al demands. She’s standing now. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides, and for a moment, flames flicker around them. They’re not nearly as frightening as the fire in her eyes, though. “You looked into my head, found my weakness—my most important secret—and used that to manipulate me? When else did you take what I was thinking and use that to your advantage? Have you—has anything about you been honest all this time?”
All at once, the anger in her voice gives way to hurt, and that at last pushes me to read her thoughts. She thinks of how we talked about our pasts after our first spar together, all the times we joked around and hung out, how she trusted me with things she’d never told anyone. The first person she’d confided in since her brother killed their parents.
Her thoughts, now laced with betrayal, rip at my chest. I pull back from her mind and force myself to meet her eyes. It’s hard. I don’t want to. I’m scared of losing my friend.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I know I used your thoughts against you, and I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I’ve never lied to you, and you’re still one of my important friends, and I—I never knew when I should tell you about my gift. I was afraid you’d hate me once you knew, and then time passed, and it just got harder and harder.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Al asks. “Sorry for the girl who threatened me into doing what she wanted, who’s known whatever thought crossed my mind and never even told me about it?”
“I’m not asking you to feel sorry for me. I just wanted you to understand why I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Because you’re a coward.”
“What was I supposed to do?” I ask, standing up myself now. My hurt makes way for an anger I’ve pent up for so long I nearly forgot it existed. “Am I just supposed to tell every person I meet that I know everything they’re thinking as soon as I meet them? Am I supposed to push people away before I even have a chance to earn their trust? Or at what point is it acceptable to tell someone I’ve been in their head the whole time without hurting them?”
“Maybe they wouldn’t be so hurt if you didn’t use what you heard against them,” Al says. Her voice is nearly a shout. “Maybe, if you cared a little more about the secrets you heard that weren’t yours to know, people wouldn’t feel so betrayed!”
“Oh, so it was fine when you thought I knew you were a girl by sight alone, but as soon as you find out it was because of my gift, it’s a problem?”
“It was always a problem! But it was a more acceptable one when you knew on accident instead of intentionally going through my head looking for something to hold over me.”
“As if you never use your gift to your advantage! You never hesitate before using your flames. I’m sorry mine is more personal than useful on the battlefield—”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?”
“That the person I thought was my friend has been stabbing me in the back this whole time!” Al is breathing hard. She rubs the heels of her palms over her eyes. I almost think she’s crying, but when she lowers her hands, she just looks tired. “Can you get out? I want to be alone.”
I almost say no. I almost say let’s talk this out. But then, just behind Al, I catch sight of a single black butterfly. Why now, of all times?
And all at once, everything is too much. The fight with Al, with Jay, the rebels, Ellis. I don’t want to deal with any of it. I’m tired of dealing with all of it. I can’t.
I don’t say anything as I walk out the door.
25
LAI
ALL THROUGH PLAYING piano with Jay, I can’t stop thinking about my argument with Al. Jay notices my distraction, but says nothing. His mind is on our fight from the previous night, and I can’t help but feel that all I ever do is make things worse for the people around me. It would’ve been better if I’d never told anyone anything.
Al is pretending to be asleep when I get back. I don’t call her bluff.
The next morning, I’m ready and out the door before she wakes up.
The halls are already busy with soldiers starting their day. My gift wanders through everyone’s thoughts, but for the most part, there’s nothing of particular interest. Only worries about the upcoming meeting with the rebels.
But just as I’m about to reach Central’s front entrance, I latch on to some very interesting thoughts.
Why’d the Councilors even want us to bring this stuff all the way out there?
Could’ve at least told us what it was for.
Ugh and I thought I was getting a promotion when they summoned us.
I search for the people the thoughts belong to, but with all the soldiers around, and my inability to track thoughts to a precise location, it’s impossible. But as generally useless as those thoughts alone were, I recognized the place they were thinking about—the place they’re headed to transport whatever it is they’re carrying.
I try to focus in on the thoughts, but they’re already fading as they move farther away, and it’s not long until they’ve disappeared altogether.
Okay. Okay. So the Council has some soldiers running secretive errands. Could it be related to their experiments? I don’t know what they’re transporting, but I do know where they’re headed. It could be the first hint I’ve managed to find since overhearing those Councilors’ conversation so long ago. I can use this. But for now, I continue on my way.
As expected, Mendel is already waiting at the gates when I get there ten minutes early. He looks up as I walk toward him, but before he can say anything, I hold a finger to my lips. I jerk my head for him to follow me out of Central’s grounds and into the streets. They’re fairly busy for this time of morning as everyone heads out to work or to run errands. Without our uniforms, and once we’re far enough away from Central, we don’t attract too much attention. We’re less obviously Nytes once it’s not readily apparent we’re with the military.
Still, I don’t take any chances. We take a few back-alley detours and pass through some less savory districts before we finally reach our destination: a small, weathered shrine tucked into a corner of the lakeshore.
The building is round and simple, a rare thing for a shrine. The white stone walls are worn but solid. A wooden door sits somewhat crookedly in its frame, but well-kept flowers bloom along the path leading up to it and along the windows’ ledges. It’s obviously well cared for, even if it is near on ancient.
I don’t know which god it’s supposed to be dedicated to, only that the sole shrine maiden charged with watching over it is a member of the Order who’s said we’re free to use the shrine whenever we wish—so long as
we don’t do anything unholy there or damage it or insult the god it’s dedicated to in any way.
I’m not really sure what actions count as unholy or offensive, but hopefully trying to get a Nyte’s memories back through the help of another Nyte’s gift doesn’t qualify as either.
“A shrine?” Mendel asks skeptically.
“We’re going inside.”
“We’re wha—hey, wait!”
Despite his doubts, he follows me. Not that I gave him much choice.
The inside is as bare as you would expect from seeing the outside. A plain offering box sits at the back of the room underneath a small, high window, but other than that and the other windows placed at intervals throughout the single circular room, there’s nothing.
Well, nothing but Peter Wood, who’s standing and staring at the light streaming in from the window. It gives him a look of consideration and thoughtfulness rarely displayed by this twin. He blinks and looks up at the sound of our footsteps like he’s coming out of a trance. “Yo. You made it.”
I wave in greeting, then gesture to Mendel. “This is Erik Mendel, the one I told you about last time. Mendel, this is Peter, the one whose power crystal we tried to use. He’s agreed to assist with trying to get your memories back.”
“Thanks for all your help,” Mendel says cautiously.
The last traces of whatever Peter had been thinking about so deeply before disappear as he dons his trademark grin. “No problem. If it’s for a friend of Lai’s, I’m happy to do what I can.”
Mendel’s thoughts stir uneasily at the mention of being a friend of mine, but I just say, “Thanks, Peter. I owe you one.”
He waves my words away. “Don’t mention it. You’ve saved my skin dozens of times before.” He stretches his arms out before him, flexing his fingers like one might before exercising. “You ready to go?”
“How does it work?” Mendel asks. His eyes are narrowed, but at least he isn’t showing as much suspicion as before. “Is it the same as your power crystal?”
A Soldier and a Liar Page 23