“But his mother is Harmony Greer!” Kuan-yin shouted through the ruckus.
The secretary’s eyes widened. “He’s one of the twins?”
“Please get him in,” Kuan-yin begged.
The secretary made a phone call as Wes tapped my shoulder.
“Thanks for what you did back there. If— if I killed you...” Wes sighed.
“I wouldn’t forgive myself if I killed my best friend,” I paused. “I couldn’t let you do that to yourself either.”
Six people exited the hospital with a stretcher — I assumed that was for me — and Wes released his support on my arm. After situating myself, the personnel rushed me into a hospital room on the fifth floor and they began their standard treatments. I shut my eyes and exhaled to stabilize myself.
After a doctor took a blood test, placed stitches into my left arm, and wrapped my wounds with bandages, she lifted her spectacles. I wore all white, the customary color of Serre, even with Regime restrictions. The red ‘C’ on my chest haunted me as it always did.
She cleared her throat. “Do you know why your friends aren’t allowed in here, Mr. Greer?”
“If this has to deal with the incident in the cave—” I started.
“It has everything to do with that. Serre is a city based on light, cleanliness— healing.”
“Isn’t it a city of music?”
“We’re a fighting city, Mr. Greer. One with high Dreamer standards. A single orchestra could take out an entire Regime base. With potent sound magic, a soloist or musician could take out an entire squadron. And there was you: not even using a violin to cause a collapse in the cave.”
I lowered my head, but the doctor continued.
“The blood test we ran showed that the high pitched vibration causing the earthquake came from your powers. They’re unstable. More unstable than anyone normal,” she snarled and looked at her paperwork on me with scrutiny.
My eyes met hers. “What does that mean?”
“That, and the combination of you not having a single magic brand on your body means that these lurking powers will only grow— and even more unstable if you’re not careful.”
“Oh…” I started.
“As you’ve noticed, we’re short staffed after losing The Regime’s loyalists, but many of The Dreamers here know how to keep quiet.” the doctor wrote on a form in her papers. “I’ll find you someone who can help you, if that girl, Kuan-yin, can’t. If you don’t improve, we’re all at risk.”
“Kuan? What about her?” I blinked, caught off guard by her statement.
The doctor took notes on a notepad. “As Lady of the Katana, it’s her job to help people control magical energy and kill those who become a danger to The Dreamer Community. Your mother was gifted you know. Very gifted. It’s only natural for you to be too.”
She didn’t look up. There was something else.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I narrowed my gaze.
A frown crossed her face. “The question is: can you handle knowing?”
“If it’ll help me keep my friends out of danger…”
“Your blood test also shows that you’re filled with dark energy — singe-filled dark energy. With this element fused into your genetics, it explains why you killed my daughter and why you’re even still alive. A Sollicitus has a tendency to be less emotional and more cunning. Put that with sound and there are abilities: some that can control a crowd within seconds using music. Everyone here is wary of that.”
That word again — it was connected with dark energy: the same that Becky, Zeke, and Mai carried with them; it was the same energy I carried in me, apparently.
The doctor held out my wrist and revealed a small, black dot. It resembled one of those ink splotches from the journal: no definite shape, just a haunting mistake. A misstep, per se.
“Is there any way I can get rid of it?” I asked.
She nodded. “We do have a kill serum we use on magical children who might get caught by The Regime. It wouldn’t work unless we made an almost lethal dose. If you choose the procedure, you can forget playing that violin or any possibility to have any other magic again. It’ll wipe everything.”
I gulped down the lump in my throat. “Can I think it over?”
“Absolutely. In the meantime, I’ll try to see if I can get ahold of my serum expert. He can help any pest.” the doctor stood from her chair and left the room.
Another nurse approached the door. “You both can see him now.”
Kuan-yin burst into the room and squeezed me tight. “So you’re alive after all!”
Wes held up a painting. The scene showed a slim, redhead girl and a chubby girl holding fire on a train ride. Beside Enya, a boy was handcuffed to her other arm.
“They’re on their way here.” his grin lit the room.
I sighed and ruffled through my hair. “That’s great.”
“What’s wrong? I heard a little of what the doctor said, but—” Kuan-yin started.
“Sheesh, could you be any nosier?” Wes elbowed Kuan-yin.
I couldn’t keep this a secret from them. They had every right to know. “… She’s right. The doctors are calling in a specialist to attempt to help me control my— gift if Kuan can’t help me. Other than that, they found darkness in my blood.”
“From your mother— Father said she might’ve passed it to you and Enya, but he wasn’t sure since she could control it so well.”
“You knew?”
“How was I supposed to tell you?” Kuan-yin cleared her throat. “Hey Ambert, so your mother entered into this cave in Serre that may have infected her with darkness. Oh, and you might’ve inherited it.”
“Okay, it might’ve been harder to discuss than I thought…” I frowned.
Wes chuckled. “Forget this dark stuff. You’re the most selfless person I know.”
Kuan-yin nodded. “He’s right, Ambert. You need to open up and accept this is a part of you. Even Enya didn’t master fire at first… I’m guessing. And she probably still has a long way to go.”
“She hasn’t killed Dreamers. Only people who’ve attacked her,” Wes said.
“Life may have its ups and downs, but there’s no such thing as good and evil— just friends and enemies in an endless war.” I clenched my fist. “If controlling sound and making music is my part in that, I want to help, but—”
Wes handed me my backpack and my mother’s journal. “We’ll be with you every step of the way. Calista and Enya will too.”
Acceptance was harder than any rebellion. Your heritage, who you love, your talents, goals, dreams, magic: they mattered from the start. They weren’t things you could just give up.
I looked into the mirror and saw a young man trying to make a difference in a dreamless world — to stop a war that would cost thousands of lives. That goal was stronger than ever: the goal to negotiate peace. Kindness could create bonds, mend them, heal them— it would help me through this.
A smile flitted across my face. I could make it through this if I tried. Kuan-yin was right— music was too much a part of me to give it up. I’d have to continue what I always did: help citizens of The Regime — Dreamer and non-Dreamer alike — create inspiring music, negotiate peace, and spin my own melody in the cracks.
Giving up was no option.
I smiled. “Call the doctor in here. That serum won’t be necessary.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Calista
Red sheets wrapped around my body, comforting me in a blanket of warmth and silk.
Yawning, I stretched my arms. I trudged out of bed to look out the huge glass window in the bedroom, well rested from a good night’s sleep. You could see the entire city from the view!
Goldcrest was broken down— trash everywhere in scattered piles, producing an odor of rotten eggs. Yuck… we turned the city upside down! Dare To Fight illuminated on the back wall of Goldcrest, red, purple, and orange painted flames surrounding the j
agged gold lettering.
Flames.
The flames in my dreams were so real. Heat burned my face as I breathed the stench of melting stones and metals. The events in my dreams were getting closer. I could sense it! I quivered, unsure of what to do next. Find Aurelia and protect two lives? There was so much on my plate now, and there was no way I could do things on my own.
I glanced around the room before I caught a pair of eyes lingering through my doorway. Dustin was awake, shifting his eyes back and forth to the stairs. Tied to the stairwell post by a pair of tight metal handcuffs, his hands lingered to one side and he sat on the hardwood floor. Enya most likely pulled those off an officer from the skirmish earlier.
He maneuvered his head toward his right sleeve, using his teeth to clamp a structure in his mouth. The silver paper clip gleamed in the morning light. Dustin used it to remove his handcuffs with ease.
My jaw dropped open and blurted out a question without thinking them through. “You could’ve escaped this entire time?”
How were we supposed to just trust a Regime soldier? We needed him for information, but if Ivory was wrong about Dr. Moreno… I gulped. Dustin had bags under his eyes, the dark circles bringing out his eye color and giving them a sinister glow.
Dustin replied quickly. “Don’t give me that look. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Aren’t you used to being on The Regime’s side?”
“I’m used to the drill sergeant waiting to beat me early morning. Before that, it was my tio.” Dustin clenched his fist.
That was a new word, but I bet he was talking about someone in his family.
I lowered my gaze. “What kind of family would do that?”
“It was an interesting relationship.” Dustin slumped against the wall. “I used to have a lot of beef with all kinds of people. They called me a cripple, a freak, one-armed. My papá couldn’t stand it. So, he and his folks at the lab created this arm, even implanted a chip in my brain so I could move it.”
“Have you always been a…”
“I’d rather you shut your mouth.”
“Enya has a fire to protect those she loves. She was really hurt by The Regime, so it’s a wonder you aren’t dead.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Dustin turned away from me. “The others are waiting for you in the kitchen.”
I walked downstairs. “You should… um... open up to them. Especially if you’re on our side.”
“It’s hard to make friends after working for The Regime.”
“You and Enya have a lot in common,” I said.
Dustin chuckled. “I don’t think so, Red.”
“If you talk to her, you’ll find out yourself,” I said.
Dustin sighed and followed me downstairs.
There was some cereal in the closet and milk in the fridge for breakfast. At the huge glass table, everyone was silent. It was like wandering through a graveyard. The others stared at Dustin, who looked into his bowl of cereal, poking at it with a spoon.
Ivory broke the silence. “So, where are we going next?”
“Weisheit. I owe you that.” Enya yawned.
How much sleep did she get last night? I hope she wasn’t up because of Dustin…
“Something just doesn’t feel right about going there now…” I mumbled.
“She’s right. There was a fight that broke out in a Dreamer marketplace.” Ju-long turned on the television.
Dustin raised an eyebrow. “There are real places that sell Dreamer stuff?”
Enya’s firm glare locked a dirty look into Dustin’s eyes, and a long silence ensued. I could almost feel Enya’s resolve start to steam. She really hated The Regime… more than Wes sometimes! I had to change the subject before she let those flames out. Otherwise, it wouldn’t just be Dustin getting hurt. All of us would be at risk.
I faked a smile seeing the graffiti and fire on the screen. “We’re beginning to rebel.”
“Is that admirable, Miss?” Ju-long’s hands fidgeted in his lap.
Dustin smirked. “Duh...”
“No one asked for your opinion!” Enya raised her voice. I cocked an eyebrow at her and she backed her tone. “We’re going to Serre, right?”
“I can’t wait to hear their sick music.” Dustin bumped Enya’s shoulder.
Enya firmed her posture and turned away from him. “You’d be surprised, but I’m a singer.”
“Wicked Soprano?” Dustin teased her.
“I’m an Alto.” Enya placed her hands on her hips.
Dustin shrugged. “You sound like you could slap the high notes if you tried.”
“Flattery’s not gonna help you.” Enya chuckled with sarcasm.
“You’re filled with fire from people who’ve burned your butt. I’ll take my chances with flattery.” Dustin leaned back in his chair.
Enya tensed her shoulders. “Like you would know how to flatter me anyway.”
“Please don’t tell me they’re gonna fight…” Ivory whispered into my ear.
“I’m trying to help you feel better.” Dustin glanced into her eyes with pity.
“I’ll never accept help from a jerk like you! Especially not from you, Steven!” Enya yelled.
Silence filled the room and I cocked an eyebrow. That was the boy from Enya’s flashback, the same Regime soldier who put a gun to her head. The one who called her names. He was the one who made her so callous in the first place. Seeing Dustin must’ve brought back horrible memories for her just like snow gave me chills of seeing my father killing Dreamers for The Commander. My curiosity gave me so many questions to ask her, but I couldn’t keep pressing things on her. She already had to deal with Dustin.
Despite trying to repress my thoughts, my curiosity blurted out one question. “Was that a mistake or…”
Enya faced me, her eyes puffy and red. “... No, no it wasn't.”
“Enya, is something going on?” Ivory tiptoed to Enya but was slapped away. “Who’s Steven?”
“Dustin Steven Moreno was the guy I’d spend the rest of my life with.” Enya stared into her bowl of cereal, the hatred burning out in her eyes for sorrow.
“He was your boyfriend?" my jaw dropped.
Enya narrowed her eyes at glared at Dustin. “Always wore gloves, long sleeves… Everything made sense after confiscating your identification tag. You thought using a middle name when we met meant I’d never find you again?”
“That isn’t why I used it,” Dustin mumbled. “Spy work is difficult, especially when you’re the rebel…”
Enya slapped him across the face. “If you were a Dreamer spy, you sure didn’t make me believe it. Not after you backstabbed me.”
Ivory grinned. “That’s because The Morenos are the best spies in the resistance. Duh!”
“Let’s run away, he said. You don’t belong in a country like this! I’d never leave you…” Enya clenched her fist and slammed it on the table. “All a bloody act! This demon made me believe he loved me when he reported everything!”
“Enya…” I placed my hand on her shoulder. She shoved it off.
“Don’t touch me!” A fire flickered in her hands for a second before she extinguished it. “He’s the reason I got into this mess in the first place! Not a camera. Not a witness. Him.”
“We didn’t know, Miss…” Ju-long’s face went blank.
Enya wrapped her arms around her plump stomach. “Don’t get in my business!”
“Enya… I’m so sorry. When I saw it in a vision I thought…”
“You thought what? That I’m helpless?”
“... I thought I could help. That we could show you how amazing you are…”
“What do you know? You’ve never been burned before…” Enya’s confidence shook just like the night Dustin betrayed her.
Dustin cleared a lump in his throat. “Look, I didn’t want to do that to you. I wanted to take you with us.”
“Yeah right.” Enya spat.
Enya leaned in closer to him and held her head high. “It takes more than that to prove anything to me.”
I cleared my throat and pointed to the door. “Let’s go.”
The train had more sewing materials and another sewing machine for Ivory to make clothes with. She got straight to work. I couldn’t help but appreciate what she was trying to do for us. She looked at me and giggled.
“Why call a city of music Serre?” I rested my chin on my palm.
Dustin was handcuffed to Enya, linking their arms together. I’m surprised Enya even went through with that.
Dustin repositioned himself to be more comfortable. “Ginormous white bridges connect it to other cities. Great architectural design. Gardens. Serenity. All that stuff.”
The train jolted to a stop, knocking some of us over. I barely stayed on my feet, gripping onto a box beside me like it was my only hope for survival. After releasing the box, my face scrunched, confused by what was going on. Were we here already? That would be insane, right? I wish I could’ve brought Wes’ map from Safe Haven with me… or at least asked Enya to give me hers.
Dustin’s head perked up. “This isn’t right.”
“Have we screwed up your betrayal?” Enya raised an eyebrow.
Dustin sighed. “Let’s just hope I’m wrong.”
“You think something bad happened to the train?" I tilted my head.
“Hopefully it’s just a mistake,” Ivory smiled.
“I need these removed.” Dustin looked to the handcuff on his wrist.
“Do you? Really?” Enya toyed with the keys in her hands.
“You, Ju-long, and I are the only ones able to quickly open the door,” Dustin said.
Enya rolled her eyes. “I’m flattered.”
“Just do it.” I sighed and pinched my nose.
Splintering Reality (Breaking Order Series Book 2) Page 16