Sixty-six is the atomic number of dysprosium, a lanthanide. A lanthanide is any series of fifteen metallic elements, often collectively known as the rare earth elements.
Fifteen is a triangular number: 1+2+3+4+5=15
Thirty-nine is the atomic number of yttrium. Equal to three trimesters, the length of a human pregnancy.
Twenty-seven, the atomic number of cobalt. The number of bones in the human hand. The number of "cubies" in a Rubik's cube.
Boom!
My front door bursts open, wood splinters flying. Three masked assailants march inside my apartment, and I jackknife into a sitting position, my mind and heart racing.
Fight-or-flight?
The intruders can't be Myriadians; Myriadians can't pass through the Veil of Wings.
Is the trio planning to throw me out of the realm?
Fight!
As the intruders approach, I kick the vase perched on the coffee table. It nails Middle Man in the face. He's tall and muscled and the porcelain explodes into fragments; he grunts, stumbling backward.
I roll to the floor, flowing under the table, and jump to my feet on the other side. Leftie--who was diving for me--smacks into the couch and plops onto the table.
I rush into the kitchen, but Rightie catches me before I can grab a knife, wrapping strong arms around my waist and holding me prisoner. No matter how hard I struggle, I'm unable to break free.
No. No! The other two grab my ankles to help cart me out of the apartment. I buck and flail and shout for help. This is no time for pride. Whatever they have planned for me, I won't make it easy.
Apartments doors open. Three trainees peek out to see what's going on. The only male pales and retreats. One of the girls--Winifred--steps into the hall.
Leftie shoots her with a Dazer, and she freezes. Jerk! I know the spirit stun gun causes no pain or lasting harm, but he's left a young girl vulnerable.
And why the heck wasn't the Dazer used on me?
Maybe I'm going to be tortured before I'm thrown out?
Fear claws at me, but still I fight. The last girl in the hall--Elizabeth, who needs to move her butt out of the trainees' section--watches my abduction with an air of amused satisfaction. The fear morphs into fury.
"Have fun, Numbers," she calls. "I know I am."
There's no sign of Clay, my next-door neighbor. It's early. He's here, and he has ears; no way he's missed the commotion. Has he washed his hands of me?
I deserve this.
Go ahead, guys. Take me away.
I'm carried into the elevator. Soft music drifts from overhead speakers.
I should have nutted up and gone to see Clay last night. Instead I took the coward's way out and avoided him. I should have apologized on my knees. He's my best friend. I should have explained the reason for my choice.
He should have...given me the benefit of the doubt?
Is it wrong of me to think so? Maybe. The problem is, someone else's response--supposed or otherwise--should never dictate my actions. Isn't that what I claim to believe?
Dang it! I'm going to escape, and I'm going to tell him how much he means to me.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. As I'm hauled into the lobby, I spring into action, bucking and kicking with every ounce of my strength.
"Can you just be still for a second?" a familiar voice grumbles.
Hold up. Clay?
"I think you broke my ribs." Definitely Clay.
I waffle between relief and confusion. Clay would never hurt me, even while supremely disappointed in me. This must be some sort of...test?
"You aren't supposed to speak," another guy snaps.
Deacon? He's successfully avoided me since the day of my arrival and now he's part of this...whatever this is?
"Sorry, man," Clay mutters.
We make it outside. Light spills over me, greeting me as if we're old friends, warming me from the inside out.
As we continue on, I bring the map of Troika to the forefront of my mind to track our progress. A Stairwell is used to take us deeper into the Capital of New, where the higher-ups must live. Mansions, mansions, everywhere. We enter a Gate and exit in the Museum of Wisdom. This is my first time here, and I'm... Wow. An Egyptian pyramid, a Russian palace, a Romanian fortress. A tepee.
The absolute majesty of every edifice dumbfounds me.
We travel through another Stairwell, then another Gate, and finally end up in the Tower of Might, a city given its name because of the numerous skyscrapers with...loading docks rather than balconies? Flying cars come and go. I shake my head, awed.
I'm carted to one of many coliseum-type arenas surrounding the skyscrapers and dropped on a sandy ground. I jump up, ignoring the black spots flashing in my eyes and the empty state of my lungs. The masked men remain in place as Levi, Meredith, Kayla and Reed join us; the entire group forms a circle around me.
Tremors shoot through me, but I raise my chin. Want a piece? Come and get it.
"Gentlemen," Levi says with a nod.
The "gentlemen" in question remove their masks, revealing Deacon, Clay and Victor.
There are seven people in total.
Seven days in a week. A heptagon. Lucky number seven.
I scowl at Levi, the General who obviously issued the order to abscond with me. "There are better ways to invite me to...whatever this is."
"Yes, but there was no better way to show you just how weak you are."
"Well, consider me shown." I spread my arms wide, all, Bring it. "Anyone else want a go at me?"
"Oh, don't worry. Everyone will get a go at you." He crosses his arms. "Please tell me you spent the morning using your Key, unlocking doors in the Grid."
"I'd tell you, but I'd be lying."
He frowns at me. "You should spend less time pitying yourself and more time on what matters. We need you, and people in the Land of the Harvest need us. See how that works?"
So irritating, but so right.
He walks around me, drawing a circle in the sand. "A gift given can do nothing unless it's received."
My hands ball into fists. "If you're hoping to confuse me, A-plus. You nailed it."
He smiles at me, but there's no amusement in the deed. "You have to forgive yourself for Archer's death. Otherwise you'll be in breach of contract. Did you know that? Hold a grudge, earn a punishment. Even when the grudge is self-directed."
I bristle, retorting, "Has anyone informed Elizabeth of this?"
"How about you focus on you, eh?" He winks at me. "Since you're new, I'll throw you a bone and explain a few things. Elizabeth has entered a grace period. A time without punishment to reflect and forgive. While you might curse her grace period, I have a feeling you'll rejoice when you are shown the same mercy."
Ugh! He's more irritating by the second. "What constitutes a punishment here?" I know about the Exchange, when we see our crime through the eyes of our victim. But there must be others.
"Loss of home or job. Solitary confinement. Yes, we have a prison here, and resentment is a serious crime. Antipathy of any kind casts a shadow over the Grid and affects us all."
Well. Time to do my part to keep the Grid bright and shiny, then. I face Clay. "I'm sorry. I knew someone else would rush to your rescue but feared no one else would--"
He holds up a hand to stop me. "I'm sorry. Meredith explained the situation to me. I should have trusted you."
Meredith knows me and sees the best in me. The realization is bright and shiny.
My gaze finds hers. Thank you, I mouth.
She blows me a kiss.
"You are a Conduit," Levi says, taking the reins of control.
"Am I?" I ask softly. "I've shown no signs of extraordinary power."
"A few setbacks, and you doubt my word and your own abilities. Perhaps you are ordinary."
I scowl at him. "A few setbacks?"
"Anyone can start a marathon. Only the strongest will finish it, even after they fall."
Ann-nn-nnd he's right agai
n. Zero! "Please stop doing your impersonation of a motivational poster."
"Very well. We'll get down to business." He wipes an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder. "Normally we wouldn't send a trainee into the field, but a unique case has come to our attention, and you, Tenley Lockwood, are the only one who can do the job."
"Also, we would never send a Conduit into the field when our only other Conduit is MIA," Meredith adds, her voice now brittle with tension.
Trepidation flash-freezes my Lifeblood. I can guess where this is headed. The girl Meredith mentioned before the welcome party. The one infected with Penumbra.
"The princess isn't missing," Levi informs us. "The Secondking spoke with his Generals this morning. Myriad has placed a large bounty on the princess's head. Unwilling to risk one of our own people turning against her for personal gain, the Secondking has hidden her, as we suspected."
I'm disgusted by Myriad's daring, but relieved the princess is safe.
Levi pins me in place with a hard stare. "As for the case. The worst has happened. A day so many feared. Myriad has successfully infected a human with a disease known as Penumbra."
Knew it!
Gasps of horror rise from the others.
"It's real?" Reed asks.
"This isn't a drill?" Kayla seems to crumble into herself and shrink.
Levi nods and continues. "This information goes no further than our circle. Understand?" After everyone verbally agrees, he adds, "You're the only one who can stop an outbreak, Miss Lockwood, which means I have to give you a crash course in the field of...everything. We'll also work on your quirks and help you grow through every problem you encounter."
Grow through, he said. Not just go through. I like it. "But I'm just a girl. One girl, newly dead. How can I--"
"All you lack is the proper motivation." A shrewd gleam enters his eyes. "Perhaps this will help. Killian Flynn has been placed in charge of the infected girl's care."
I jump as if I've been hit by a freak bolt of lightning. Catching my breath is suddenly impossible. My blood heats. I'll get to see Killian, speak with him...fight with him?
Wah, wah, wah. Way to ruin a mood. We'll be on opposite sides of the war, with far different goals.
"Why would you pair me against him?" I ask.
Expression grave, Levi says, "The importance of this mission...the consequences if you fail... I will do anything to ensure you do everything you can to save us. If you can convince Mr. Flynn to help us, even better."
My stomach twists. But no pressure, right?
"Train me," I tell him. "I'll do whatever I can to help."
A glint of approval. "Meet your teammates. The ones you'll be working with directly. Everyone has a different specialty, and I believe you'll complement each other well, despite the lack of experience. Like Archer, Victor spent time with Killian before he defected. And considering Killian helped you rescue Kayla and Reed from Many Ends, they're the least likely to attack him and the most likely to aid you. Clay and Meredith love you and will guard you with their lives."
No one will be giving up their life for me ever again!
"Why don't you go ahead and say goodbye to your teammates, too. Killian will murder us all--with your help, I'm sure." Elizabeth enters the coliseum and approaches the circle. "Whether you're witting or unwitting."
I glare at Levi. "What's she doing here?"
"Hey! Numbers!" she snaps. "You don't talk to a General that way. Even children know--"
He glares, and she goes quiet. "Elizabeth is a member of your team, Miss Lockwood. Grace period or not, antipathy, rancor and malice always come with a price." He doesn't raise his voice, but his irritation is clear. "The two of you will learn to work together, to trust each other, or you'll fail your charges when you're in the field."
I toss my hands up. "So why even risk it?"
"If you can't overlook your emotions with each other, how will you overlook your emotions when something else goes wrong? And something will go wrong. We risk you by not teaching you to transcend what you feel."
"I will never trust you," Elizabeth spits at me. "I'd rather spend eternity in Myriad's Kennels than work with--"
"Enough, Miss Winchester," Levi snaps. "You've already been warned. As a graduate, you are an example to trainees. Be a good one."
In a surprising display of respect, she lowers her head.
I'm in no position to gloat over her chastisement. I'm already struggling with the reality of what I'm supposed to do, what I need to do. Now I have to deal with Elizabeth, too? Wonderful.
The past can't be changed, and her opinion does not--will not--define my reality. A judgment rendered is an affirmation of the judger's character, not mine. But I need this girl to work with me, not against me.
"I can't defend Killian's past," I tell her. "He did what he did, just as you and I have done what we've done. You've asked for second, third and fourth chances, I'm sure. Shouldn't he receive the same? Shouldn't I?"
She glowers at me, and mutters, "Go count yourself."
Um. I'm...not sure what to say to that.
"All right. Let's get started." Levi taps the top of his hand, and a blue glow appears. He types into the glow, and a few seconds later, a Shell materializes beside me. A Shell created to resemble me. "Everywhere you go, veteran Laborers will be securing the perimeter. You will never be without an armed guard. They'll be able to track you through the Shell."
I barely hear him. I'm too busy marveling at the Shell itself. She--it--has straight black hair and no brands, the only real differences between us. The eye sockets are empty and clear, but that will change the moment my spirit is inside. Humans and spirits alike will see my real eyes.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, after all.
The Shell even has--Hey! "Was the pimple really necessary?" I demand.
"The key to blending in," Levi replies, "is actually blending in."
"Wow. Such wisdom." Humans won't know I'm a Shell unless and until I'm physically touched; Shells produce no body heat.
Not that the truth will register even with contact. Until I got to know Killian and Archer, I'd had no idea I was interacting with Shells, and blamed their cold flesh on a glandular problem.
Oh, the power of rationalization.
"Archer's Shell was perfect," I grumble. "Meaning, without flaw, in case you need the definition."
Levi arches a brow. "Pimples are not flaws, they are pimples. People come in all types, shapes and sizes. Are you forgetting the time Archer used Bow?"
Bow, a rotund female Shell and my first introduction to a boy who would change the course of my Everlife. "No." I'm still grumbling. "I'll never forget Bow." I took showers in front of her/him.
To Archer's credit, he always used the time to marvel over his own breasts.
"Archer knew how to blend in without trying to blend in." He claps his hands. "Now. Every Shell comes with three cases for weapons. One each for swords, daggers and guns. They are called Whells--Weapon Hull with Enhanced Link and Load--and if you acquire a different type of weapon, you'll need to have a custom Whell made. Whells are useless until you anchor inside the Shell. In conclusion, if you want to fight with a sword, your Shell needs to be clutching the Whell meant for swords. Understand?"
I nod, even as my head spins. "What about swords of fire?" Like I saw the day I died.
"Pyres do not require a Whell. When you decode your Key, you'll be able to create a Pyre of your own. An outward manifestation of your Light. Until then... We're moving on."
"Wait! Myriadians produce Pyres, too, but they have no Light."
"A cheap perversion, I assure you. Their swords are called Glaciers and they smoke because they are made of something akin to frozen carbon dioxide. Now. A spirit cannot interact with humans without a Shell," he says, "which means lesson number one is vital. Staying inside the Shell."
Sounds simple enough.
He motions to my Shell. "Go ahead. Give it a shot."
Confident
I've got this, I walk into mine, as if I'm walking into an elevator--and I'm immediately ejected, propelled by a great force. Frowning, I try again, walking into it and--
I'm ejected.
My audience experiences different reactions.
Deacon remains stoic.
Clay grins. "Had the same problem myself."
Meredith and Victor cheer me on. "You can do it!"
Kayla and Reed regard me worriedly.
"Give up, Numbers," Elizabeth calls. "You're going to fail, and we all know it."
Levi doesn't correct her. "Don't ask yourself how you anchor," he tells me. "Ask yourself why you haven't already anchored."
Is he freaking kidding me? "Just so you know, my class evaluation will read, totally sucked."
Others snort, but he rolls his eyes. "What is explained is often forgotten. What is experienced is remembered forever."
Fine. Why haven't I anchored?
To anchor. A verb. To secure, fasten, attach or affix. So... I haven't secured, fastened, attached or affixed my spirit to the inside of the Shell because...I haven't tried to secure, fasten, attach or affix my spirit to the inside of the Shell?
I square my shoulders and lift my chin.
"There she is," Levi says with a smile. "The warrior I know and sometimes like."
My fingers curl, preparing to dig in as I walk forward. My third attempt. The third time is the charm. My determination acts like glue, a suction developing between the animate and the inanimate. A suction that doesn't last more than a few seconds; I'm ejected, but I don't care. I did it once. I can do it again.
Levi's grin widens. "Next time you're in, slap the top of your hand. A one-handed keyboard will appear. My address is preprogrammed into your database. Send me a message."
Shall I pull a rabbit out of my butt while I'm at it? "What do you want the message to say?"
"Anything you'd like. This is your one and only chance to tell me off without repercussions for disrespecting your superior."
I bat my lashes at him and for the first time since my death, I'm without even the minutest hint of despondency. "Is that because I'll be your superior one day soon?" He's a General, yes, but a Conduit outranks him. A fact I think I'm going to enjoy. A lot.
He looks up at the exquisite heavens, a sky of dappled water that surrounds the entire realm. "Take me into the Rest! Please!"
"She's definitely Archer's recruit, isn't she?" Meredith asks with a chuckle.
The pang of grief returns to my chest.
"Miss Lockwood," Levi says and pushes out a heavy breath. "A single thought can lead to absolute destruction or ultimate victory. Close your eyes and imagine staying inside the Shell. If you can see it, you can do it. So repeat after me. See it, do it. See it, do it."
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