by Emme DeWitt
Getting up slowly, I tried to look around in more detail. I had to have been here before. The lake had been new when Colm had been here. Was the landscape different according to the inhabitant? Not that I could ever test that theory.
An orb appeared in front of me. I sprang up, looking around. Nothing else changed. The visitors in the distance remained the same. The mist still crawled past my ankles. The orb pulsed, and I couldn’t resist. I reached out my hand and touched it.
It felt cold and warm at the same time. It moved across my fingertips like wet clay being molded on a potter’s wheel. Solid, or at least mostly so, but with the distinct feeling of having no particular set shape at all. The more I pressed into it, willing my hand to grip it, the more it moved away from my touch. It pulsed again, and I pulled my hand away, just in time for it to explode.
The wave of energy shot out like a supernova, cutting through me and streaking to the ends of the dreamscape. My vision was spotted and took several minutes to clear fully. I blinked and blinked again, willing what was before me to blink back out of existence.
It was Colm, but it wasn’t.
Colm as a night visitor.
“No,” I whispered. My hand reached out instinctively again, hovering at the bounds of the vision in motion. Colm’s eyes were pained, but his face seemed determined. Somehow, that made it even worse. He looked exactly like he had in the classroom. He would die soon.
I walked around his visage slowly. For the first time, I was determined to know what his abstract death scene meant. I had to know because I had to stop it, even if it meant watching him die over and over and over again until I could solve this puzzle. His puzzle.
He indented himself, folding inward from all angles until he exploded, much like the orb had only minutes before. Or was it hours? The sky was still dark, and I continued to watch him die. Each time the reel started, I braced myself, watching Colm as he slowly became less of himself until he was gone.
Then, I remembered Harry. The middle-aged man I had seen since birth. He indented, too. What was the connection?
Once, I thought he’d had a heart attack, but Colm was too young for that. Some other traumatic event, maybe, like a car crash. That could crush any part of you multiple times over. But how could I stop a car accident? I had to think of something else. Please, let it be something else.
A bomb?
Never mind. Not like I could do well in stopping one of those either. It had to be something with enough force to impact its victim.
Impact.
Oh God.
My hands flew out involuntarily, and I tried to block what I knew would come in the next cycle. Instead, I stumbled into Colm’s visage and froze. I had never walked through a night visitor. It seemed so disrespectful. Other than Colm’s, I couldn’t think of one that I’d touched with any intention either, but I was inside one.
A warmth grew in my stomach, just like when I was about to sing. Never once had I felt a song come on in the dreamscape. Made sense. No one else was here except for me. Why would I sing?
This time, I let it flow out of me. It was Colm’s song after all. That knowledge hit the bottom of my stomach like a rock. I never wanted to hear a song for a friend, but it was there nonetheless. If I couldn’t get out in time, this would be the last I would see of him. I needed to honor that.
So I sang.
And the weirdest thing happened as I sang. I could see him. Colm.
Wait, no. Where was he? I could see Aileen, and the nurse, and the Dean, and…
Oh my God. Oh shit. I was Colm.
I could see through his eyes. Was this real time? Too freaky, even for me. No. I would not be like Adair. I could not. I didn’t want to test this boundary of my abilities. This wall could remain up and fully reinforced, thank you very much.
The scene changed. It had mist around the edges, the same kind that slowly crawled on the ground here. It was not a welcome sight. Did I do that?
The warmth that radiated up through my mouth continued, even stronger now. I was still singing, and I was starting to understand the reason why.
I was still in Colm’s point of view. I saw only what he saw. I was disappointed I couldn’t change vantage points, but I was not directing a movie, I was watching as Colm. More specifically, I was about to watch Colm die.
I could feel his emotions as if they were my own. I guess they kind of were. Fear. Anger. Duty. Duty to what? I couldn’t see what he was trying to protect, just that there was something. There was no sound. I couldn’t tell if he was speaking or if he was hearing something around him. Wrong use of the mute button, in my opinion.
I focused on what Colm was seeing and feeling. If those were going to be my only clues, I would have to work with that. I could see a nicely built desk. It looked familiar, but the angle was off.
Well, shit. It wasn’t the infirmary. A sense of doom weighed heavily in my stomach as my throat burned. I was running out of song. We were following somebody. Was it Mags? I saw a flash of bright hair. Why were we following her?
I was frustrated—or maybe Colm was—when he tried to stop and figure out which room he needed. Mags grabbed him by the arm and led him to the furthest room, barging in without even so much as a knock.
And then everything went black.
Thirty-Five
“Hello, Noah.”
I spun around, trying to find the voice. I couldn’t see anything but knew I was no longer in my dreamscape.
“You know what, Adair? I’m over this. I really am. You can’t just yank around people’s consciousness as you please,” I said, finding I had folded my arms across my own body. Well, at least there was that.
“You’ll understand. I know you will,” he replied calmly. “You can’t hide from logic.”
“I’m not feeling particularly logical right now,” I retorted. “Put me back in my body, and we’ll see if I come around.”
I could see him walk toward me, stopping a little distance away. He, too, was in full body, although the rest of my field of vision remained black, the spotlights on us reminding me of some avant-garde theatre show Adele and I had gone to once. I wondered if that’s where Adair had found his taste for dramatic flair.
“I knew if I could get you alone, we could reason things out.” Adair offered me a chair. The field shifted, and we were in a slightly muted grey space with a rectangular table and two chairs, all brushed metal.
“I think you watch too many crime dramas. Any reason we’re in an interrogation room right now?” I said unpleasantly. I was going to get a headache with all these slight-of-hand tricks. I would not be the easiest person to win over if I was also battling a headache.
“Would you prefer something more comfortable?” Adair asked as he slid us into a deserted café.
“I preferred the interrogation room. At least it doesn’t hold the pretense that I’m here voluntarily.” The room shifted back, and I sat down before Adair could offer to pull out my chair. “So, what are we bargaining for? My freedom? My allegiance? To be honest, I’m not really a cup-half-full kind of girl, so I’d appreciate some candor. Think you can do that?”
“I’m confident you’ll see the logic of our future partnership. Mags is skeptical, but since she’s exhausted her resources, I’ve been allowed to try my hand. It’s not just us two who have been wanting to get to know you. Surely you are aware?” Adair clasped his hands genially over his crossed legs.
I had assumed Adair was a Beta based on how little he talked around Mags and her general attitude of running the show. I straightened my posture, giving me some time to work around the man in the room who held all the power.
“Should I be flattered?”
“Of course. It goes beyond wanting to play with the shiny new toy.”
“And here I was worried I wasn’t going to be popular in high school. Glad that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
“This goes beyond high school, Noah. Honestly, do you think people like us just stay in the background,
hoping for a quiet, normal life?” Adair’s eyes shone with what I assumed to be a slight mania. How cliché that he seemed to be the perfect mad scientist in training.
“That has actually been my goal the entire time. I would swap my abilities with a normal person in the blink of an eye,” I replied. “Of course, I could see how you can find good use for your talents. Shall I call you Mr. President now, or wait until you meet the age requirement?”
“President?” Adair laughed. “No. A little too limiting for my tastes. Once I find all the Elevated of our generation, we will find ourselves building a new world order. One that suits our talents, if you will.”
“And for those, like me and Evangeline, who don’t particularly feel like joining your new world order? What happens to us?”
“Oh, you’ll come around.”
“For argument’s sake, Adair. Work with me. I need to know the endgame in order to play the game,” I said. “Surely you can understand that.”
“There are no other options.”
“Of course there are.”
“Well, I suppose we could just keep you here until you come around to reason.”
“That’s not really reason. That’s some sick combination of blackmail and torture.”
“Effective though.”
“Okay, so I’m sensing my options are to join your league of villains, rot or go crazy in my dreamscape, or die. There’s always death, you see, Adair. You can’t forget who you’re working with.”
“The only option worth pursuing is mine. Of course, if that’s still not enough, there are plenty of people you care about that we could use for motivation.”
“See? And there you go with the blackmail again. You keep talking about logic, but I’m not hearing any.”
“You want logic?” Adair said, bristling at my resistance. “Fine. Humans gravitate toward those they share a likeness with. Whether it’s talent, identity, or aspiration, we all form groups. It’s natural to want to band together with others who share your otherness. People who can help you. People who care about you and your whole self. We are those people.”
“Evangeline’s that person.” I frowned. “Not you. Not Mags, and not even whoever you think is in charge of your little group. They don’t care about you, they care about your abilities, just like all those normal people out there. I’m just a trophy for you to collect, and I refuse to go down easily.”
I stood up from the chair.
“I will not be contained by your abilities. You can catch me and find me and put me back under as many times as you’d like. I won’t go down without a fight. I’ll be the thorn in your paw until you die of exhaustion. I’ll be the nightmare you never saw coming.”
“I’m not trying to control you, Noah.” Adair sighed. “I’m trying to offer you freedom. True freedom. You can’t get that anywhere else.”
“I can and I will. Goodbye, Adair.”
I turned, walking toward the grey wall I knew wasn’t real. I passed right through it into darkness.
“I’ll be back later, Noah, once you’ve had some time to see the merit of my deal. Don’t take too long, or I’ll be forced to motivate you.” The voice seemed to echo around me, but I continued to walk, even though a small part of the back of my mind wanted to know how exactly I could walk in disembodied space. Adair had made the rules, not me, and I wasn’t about to let one go to waste. Especially if I could find a door back to the waking world.
“I’ll be coming for you, too, sweetheart. Don’t wait up,” I muttered. One liners aren’t very good unless you can see the barb land. It didn’t matter much. I just needed to find the way out, and fast. I began to think about a door, or hell, even a window.
Out of pure irony on my subconscious’s part, a window appeared. The window was a twin of the one in Winter, and I reached out my fingers to trace around the somewhat familiar surface. I pushed on the frame after undoing the latches. It took all my willpower to budge it a crack. Not nearly enough space for a human. Frustrated at the millionth obstacle this week, I yelled. Releasing my anger, I felt my throat warm. The yell turned dissonant, and the window shattered.
I slapped my hand over my mouth. The warmth receded back down into my gut, and I counted prime numbers to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. I peeked at the frame, noticing it had moved enough to fit a human being. A Noah-shaped human being at least. Before I could overthink it, I climbed through the window to the other side, just as black as this one. Once I thought I was through, what little purchase I had fell out from under me, and I screamed, falling faster than any rollercoaster.
What are you doing making so much noise? a voice groaned in the back of my head.
Evangeline?! I thought back. You’re awake?
Clearly. Although you’re…not? How is this possible?
Shut up and let down your barriers.
What?
I have an idea. Just do it.
You do want me cognizant for this, don’t you? I have a feeling I’m about to take another long nap if I lower my barriers right now.
Can you just trust me, please? We don’t have time for this right now.
Fine. I expect a very thorough explanation.
Okay, just don’t freak out.
This does not bode well.
Can you please concentrate on your barriers? I have, like, thirty seconds or less.
’Til what?
LOWER YOUR BARRIERS OR I SWEAR TO GOD.
Okay, okay, okay. Hold please.
A light opened up below me. The falling sensation had made me feel queasy, but I’d stopped screaming to concentrate on Evangeline’s conversation. Plus, I didn’t feel like finding out what would happen to a banshee who lost her voice. If that was even possible.
The light grew brighter the closer I came to it. The hole seemed to swallow me, and I was suspended in light for a brief moment until I hit the floor.
“Ow!” I grunted. “How does that even happen? I’m supposed to be asleep right now.”
I looked up to find myself back in the infirmary, next to Evangeline’s bed. Her face was perched above mine, her tongue sticking out as she tried to balance remaining on her bed with leaning over and poking me.
She couldn’t. Her finger passed right through me, and a shiver ran down my spine.
“Woooowwwwww.” Evangeline waved her hand back and forth through my crumpled mirage. “This. Is. So. Cool.”
“Could you not?” I said, collecting my sprawled limbs and my remaining dignity from the floor. “It feels weird.”
“You…look weird.” Evangeline squinted. “I can kind of see you, but you have no color. I’ve been noticing the color thing more and more since you mentioned it. Very interesting stuff.”
“Not remotely interesting lately. Did you know I was ambushed in broad daylight? How rude is that?”
Evangeline shook her head. “I kind of passed out. I can’t read people when they’re asleep. Usually.” She frowned. “But…”
“This,” I said, motioning to my ghostly frame, “does not count. This is left over from Adair. And kind of you, somehow. I just took advantage of his sloppy exit.”
“So you’re asleep?” Evangeline asked. “And you’re…where exactly?”
“No idea. They took me somewhere, but I was stuck in my dreamscape a little early. Not sure how long I was out before Adair came to visit. How long has it been since you saw me in real life?”
“Like, two days.” Evangeline bit her lip. “Maybe two and a half.”
I sighed heavily. “On the bright side, campus probably just assumes I was arrested. Or possibly expelled since I’m a Boyfriend Stealer.”
“Bright side?” Evangeline looked horrified.
“Well, normally I would find it amusing. I’m a little tired of crisis mode at the moment.”
“I’ve been talking to Ms. Xavier. She knows our research has gone missing, so I could only give her the highlights of what we’d found. You’re going to flip when you hear her thoughts on your rebell
ion theory,” Evangeline said. “And she confirmed that the puppet master on campus is the dean. Kind of obvious when you think back to their little tiff when Ms. X was bailing us out.”
I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to steel myself against the information overload about to happen. I didn’t have time to complete the whole backstory of our fates when Colm was in immediate danger. I needed to focus on the present and worry about all the minutiae later.
“Okay, I was serious earlier about time being short. We can go over all this later. You need to find Colm and warn him. Like, now.”
“Warn him about the dean?” Evangeline asked, sitting back in her bed.
“No. Yes. Well, she may be involved, but I don’t know how dirty her hands get in these situations. She seems like a delegator to me. I mean that he’s going to die.”
“I’m sure he’s aware. He just woke up from a coma, for Pete’s sake.”
“No, I mean again. He’s going to die again, soon, for real this time. I saw him in my dreamscape. As a night visitor. You know, the mirages that reenact the person’s death on constant loop?”
Realization dawned on Evangeline’s face.
“Yeah, big problem. Because I’m like this,” I said, gesturing roughly to my translucent body. What an inconvenient time to be a ghost. “So you need to do it.”
Evangeline’s face turned ashen. She shook her head vigorously. “Can’t. Nope. Won’t be able to help, sorry.”
“Evangeline!”
“I’m stuck in here! And what am I supposed to say to him, huh?” Evangeline asked desperately. “Excuse me, the girl you made googly eyes at is a banshee and saw your death while she was comatose after she was attacked, but no worries, her best friend happens to be some messed-up medium who’s come to warn you of some foggy details that may or may not save you from your imminent death?”
