by Lynette Noni
Cami is shoved unceremoniously away, and Keeda steps into my line of vision, her face pale but her eyes determined. She swiftly unbuckles the restraints at my wrists, freeing first one, then the other. Moving to my neck, she makes short work of the brace while I tear the cloth from my mouth and inhale a large gulp of air.
“How —” I try to gasp out.
“Your ankles! Hurry!” Keeda orders.
I obediently bend forward to tug my left foot free, battling through the head spin and searing pain that come from my quick surge upward.
“Kael raised the alarm when you didn’t return to your room,” Keeda explains as she releases my right foot. “I told him it was a stupid idea to send you up here by yourself, but why listen to me?”
“You’re the Remnants’ informant?” I say, ignoring her sarcastic tone as my muddled brain puts the pieces together.
“One of them, and the best rescue option, since Manning’s ability doesn’t work on me.” She doesn’t waste time explaining why she’s immune — instead, she helps me swivel until my legs are over the side of the table. “Now we have to hurry and get out of here. I didn’t hit them hard — they won’t be down for long.”
I can see Manning and Vanik now, both slumped on the ground, unconscious. But I don’t look for long, because Keeda draws me off the table and onto my feet. Or, she tries to. Renewed pain darts along my back, and I’m so weak that I stagger into her, nearly toppling us both to the ground.
“For someone so small, you sure are heavy,” Keeda complains, trying to get a better grip on me since I’m unable to support myself. She wraps her arm around my lower back, pressing right against where Vanik operated on me, the agony causing lights to flash in my vision. I bite my cheek hard enough to draw blood, but I don’t ask her to let me go. I’ll put up with whatever pain it takes to escape this nightmare.
“I’m choosing to focus on remaining conscious rather than taking offense,” I slur. “Just get us out of here.”
I manage two steps before my thoughts catch up enough that I dig in my feet and say, “Wait — Cami, too. And the others.”
“No way,” Keeda says, tugging me forward. “My mission is to get you out. Only you.”
Even to my foggy mind, that is unacceptable. I refuse to leave anyone behind.
Sensing my resistance, Keeda says, “You can’t even walk on your own. We have no chance of helping them — not if we want to escape.”
I still open my mouth, but she cuts me off before I can say anything else. “They’re my friends, too.”
It’s the emotion in her voice that halts my argument, the realization of what she is sacrificing to get me away. I see the strain in her features, the sorrow in her eyes … so I nod my understanding — and my agreement.
We’re en route to the door, when Keeda, struggling with my weight, gasps out, “I don’t get it. Kael told me you’re a Creator — you could have wiped the floor with them.”
I can barely raise my head right now, and I tell her as much. In case my slurred words aren’t proof enough, I also point out the Karoel walls and how they’re dampening my abilities and making it even more difficult for me to Speak — making it impossible, in fact, given my current state.
“No rock has that kind of power,” she pants.
I trip over my own feet, again almost bringing us both to the ground.
She grunts, “Karoel’s not real, Jane — Lyss — whatever I’m supposed to call you.” She’s now practically dragging me along. “Ward was meant to tell you that after the first week of training. The limitations of its so-called effects are all in your head. It’s just a training tool, a way to help new Speakers learn control. It makes you think you can’t do something, and like everything to do with Speaking, what you think, you imagine, and what you imagine, in your case you create.”
Disbelief floods through me. Confusion, too. “I don’t — I don’t understand.”
“The human mind is easily manipulated,” she says, panting louder now. “If you believe Karoel is suppressing your power, then automatically you’re the one suppressing your own power. Whatever you felt was imagined.”
“I don’t — I — Wait, if Karoel’s not real, then what is that?” I throw my free hand toward the walls, barely able to raise it high enough for her to see where I’m pointing.
She shrugs and almost drops me in the process. “Some kind of mineral. Onyx, I think.”
“So, you’re saying —”
“I know you’re weak and exhausted,” she acknowledges, “but right now that’s your only limitation, not a rock with fake magical powers.”
I can’t believe what she’s telling me. But it makes more sense than the alternative I’ve never thought to question.
With another grunt of effort, Keeda continues, “You need to tap into whatever strength you’ve got left, because —” She looks back over our shoulders and curses quietly. Her voice is urgent as she finishes, “Because we could really use your ability right now, or else we’re both screwed.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
A shout comes from behind me, harsh and guttural.
“Stop them!”
The words are Manning’s, and the power behind them raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
Keeda swings us both around just in time to see the Exodus recruits leap into motion. They charge at us, and she pushes me roughly away before running fearlessly toward them. Helplessly weak, I teeter until I collapse onto the ground, where I can only watch as she attacks the other Speakers with both her body and her hypnotic words, keeping them from getting to me. But it’s ten against one, twelve if Vanik and Manning are included. And since Manning is now bending over Vanik and trying to wake him, it won’t be long until the two of them jump into the fray, as well.
The room is filled with a cacophony of voices and bursts of light as Speakers throw words — and fists — around like javelins. I don’t know what most of them are able to do, but even just watching Crew aim his slaying words in Keeda’s direction, accidentally slicing other Speakers in the process, is enough to force me to rally. I draw my feet under me, only just managing to stand.
I try to think of something I can do to help, but my thoughts are scattered and disjointed — I can hardly hold an image together, let alone attempt to create it into being. I struggle to remember anything I’ve learned in my training with Ward that would help in this situation. Haystacks, alpine villages, paintballs and petting zoos — none of those can help us. I could create some ferocious animal, but it would be just as likely to injure Keeda and me as anyone else, and despite the fight they’re putting up, the recruits are innocent. I don’t want anyone getting hurt — not because of me.
Useless, I stare in horror at the battle taking place. Pandora told me that if I found myself in trouble, I should be creative with my ability. Ward repeatedly tells me to use my imagination. There has to be something I can do.
I press a hand to my throbbing head and will my thoughts to clear enough to form a solid idea. Or any idea.
“Got you!” cries a voice from behind me, and two semitransparent arms wrap around my midsection.
I cry out in pain when the arms tighten, placing pressure against the wounds on my back.
“I’ve got her!” Sneak yells out again.
In his nearly invisible state, he must have been able to slip past Keeda’s notice, and he’s right — he does have me. But not for long. Because without the Karoel’s fake suppression, this is something I can summon enough intent for, if little else.
“Release me!” I say, and even though my voice is but a breath of agony, I still manage to infuse my command with enough power for light to flash and his arms to let me go. I turn around as fast as I can on my wobbly legs and look in his blurry direction, following that order with another: “Leave. Now.”
It’s only when I see his barely visible body take off that I realize I should have asked him to send help. But before I can call after him, Cami lunges for me, having deta
ched from the group of Speakers surrounding Keeda.
“Cam, no, don’t do this,” I plead with her as I sidestep. The action keeps me from her clutches, but only because my legs fail and I crash back onto the floor. She looms over me, her eyes just as listless as when she held me down on the table. I can’t bear to see her like this. I know Keeda said we wouldn’t escape if we tried to help the others, but right now, I’m not so sure we’re going to escape. And after having witnessed Cami act as Vanik’s mindless pawn … I simply can’t leave her under Manning’s grip. Not if it’s in my power to do something about it.
I dredge up every scrap of focus within me as I concentrate on the Cami I know. As I think about her pancakes and her smiles and the friendship she extended without expecting anything in return, not even my words. I call to mind her humor, her affection, her compassion. I hold on to all that she is as I stare into her eyes and imagine a tether between her and Manning; a tether I visualize severing when I say, in a croaking voice, “Be free.”
Light shoots out of me and hits her in the chest. She gasps loudly and goes back on a foot, a hand flying up to her head as if she’s in pain.
“Cami?”
My voice is nothing but a whisper. But it’s filled with everything I feel — fear … uncertainty … hope.
And when Cami’s eyes meet mine again, they’re no longer listless — they’re filled with tears.
“What — Jane, what happened?” she breathes, looking around the lab at the skirmish playing out.
Except, I can see from her paling face that she already knows, already understands. Manning didn’t have the time to make her forget.
I rise on unsteady legs, but I don’t have a chance to comfort her before Keeda shouts at me from across the room.
“I could use some backup over here!” Her voice is brimming with attitude as she singlehandedly keeps the Speakers back. “Feel free to jump in whenever you want!”
I just used up everything left within me to free Cami.
But then I hear Keeda cry out when Crew lands an attack that grazes along her side, and it’s clear she won’t be able to keep defending against them all for much longer.
“We have to do something,” Cami urges. “We have to —”
“Jane!” Keeda calls, trying to dislodge the numerous arms now grasping at her.
I take a stumbling step forward with Cami right there beside me, and I realize that there’s only one thing I can do in my current state. Only one thing I’m capable of. Only one thing that can help.
I need to lose control.
The monster that was once within me — I need to let it loose.
So I Speak out a single word …
… and stop the world.
Just like with Abby and the bus up on Market Street, the moment I shout the word “STOP!” everything pauses. Speakers halt mid-word and mid-grasp. Manning is still bent over Vanik, but the scientist is awake and half raised as if he’s on his way up to his feet. This alarms me, but I have a more pressing concern: I’m simply too weak for my Spoken command to remain in effect. The outcome is inconsistent — and it’s not holding.
One second the world is paused, and the next it’s moving. Paused, moving, paused, moving. It’s like I’m watching everyone in the room perform a stilted robotic dance.
“Stop!” I try again, but I just don’t have the energy to keep everyone in place, which means my renewed order doesn’t work at all. Realizing this, I grit my teeth and leave Cami’s frozen side, staggering my way into the mess. What little strength I have left is used to pull Keeda’s unresisting body back out, extricating her from the tangle of limbs as I go.
She’s like a dead weight as I stumble-drag her across the room, and I only make it halfway to the door, a few feet away from Cami, when I just can’t hold on anymore and my command fails entirely.
“What —” Keeda sways into me, disoriented, and by some miracle we don’t go down.
“Move!” I tell her.
Fortunately, she reacts faster than I do. She yanks me close, slings my arm around her shoulders and forces me with her toward the door. Cami, quick on her feet, rushes to our side without hesitation, taking half my weight from Keeda.
“Feel free to do that again,” Cami tells me, the two of them struggling to hold me aloft.
“I agree,” Keeda gasps, her free hand pressed to the bleeding wound in her side.
“Can’t,” I pant out. “Nothing left.” I can’t even manage a full sentence.
We’re almost at the door, when the Exodus recruits notice the three of us making a run for it.
“After them!” I hear Vanik yell, confirming that he has regained consciousness. “Don’t let them get away!”
Manning repeats the order, his words powered enough to make the Speakers act instantly — and rabidly. Cami remains free of his grip, however — a small mercy.
I cry out when an invisible knife slashes into the flesh of my upper arm, lacerating partway from shoulder to elbow. Blood gushes out, but slowly — too slowly — because I have so little left in me to lose.
“Hold on!” Keeda tells me as we finally reach the door.
I have no choice but to do as she says, the two girls all but carrying me now. Red is dripping from my arm onto Cami’s back, but I don’t dare ask her to heal me, not right now, not when she needs to concentrate on our escape.
“Come on, move!” Keeda cries out.
At first I think she’s talking to me, but then I feel a jolt as she slams her free shoulder into the door, trying to get it to budge. It was touch-activated on the way in, but it must require some kind of security scan to exit. We don’t have time to figure it out, so —
“Open!” I force out the word through lips that can barely move, and the door blows clean off the wall. Given how scattered my thoughts are, I’m amazed it actually worked, even if I would have preferred the option to close it — and lock it — behind us.
Keeda and Cami waste no time in hauling me into the corridor. I wonder what the plan is from here, because while the hallway is full of twists and turns, it’s also narrow, which means the Speakers will be able to aim their words at us as easily as if we have targets painted on our backs. Plus, by the time we reach the elevator, I doubt I’ll be able to pull my door trick again. But I decide not to tell either of them that just yet — we still have to make it to the elevator.
Hobbling along the maze-like corridor while ducking every few feet as the Speakers close in on us — and some like Crew continue to throw word daggers our way — I’m mildly concerned when the pain in my arm and back gives way to a numb feeling, and then that numbness quickly spreads over the rest of my body. I’m cold from head to toe, and tired — so very tired.
No matter what, you have to stay awake. It’s very, very important.
Kael’s not speaking to me in a dream this time, but the memory of his words echoes in my mind, and I keep my eyes open through sheer willpower.
… Only to see Ward barrel around the corner toward us.
“Landon!” Cami yelps in surprise, slamming to a halt.
Driven by momentum, my numb legs continue forward, my movements like those of a rag doll. My arm draped around Cami’s neck slips, as does my grip on Keeda, and I stumble, trip and crash onto the ground — again.
“I’ve got you, Chip,” Ward says.
His nickname fills my cold, numb body with a spark of warmth as he draws me up into his arms.
To Cami and Keeda, he asks, “Can you run?”
When they respond in the affirmative, he takes off at a sprint — much faster than we had been moving before — and with a glance over his shoulder, I can see our pursuers right on our heels.
“You called me ‘Chip.’” I slur the words, my thoughts like liquid.
“Now is not the time, Alyssa,” he says.
With his use of my real name, the spark of warmth disappears.
So.
Many.
Lies.
“Let me conc
entrate on protecting you from the Speakers I’m supposed to be protecting from you, would you?” he adds.
“You’re blocking their words?” I’m amazed when I string the thought together, let alone the sentence. “Why … Why are you helping us?”
He doesn’t answer, just continues sprinting around the antiseptic-smelling labyrinth. He’s fast, even burdened by my weight. And despite her wound, Keeda is keeping up, as is Cami. We’re pulling ahead of the other Speakers, if only slightly.
When the elevator comes into sight, Ward speaks again, but not to me.
“Kael and the others are waiting topside, so all you have to do is get Lyss up there, and he’ll take you all to safety.”
When we reach the wall, he slams his hand against the elevator scanner. It opens with a ding, and he lowers me to my feet in front of him, but his arms remain around me to keep upright.
“I’ve keyed your stats into the scanners, Keed, and I’ve made sure Falon and the guards are distracted,” Ward continues. “You should have a clear run out of here, but only if you go right now. I’ll hold these guys off for as long as I can.”
“What? No!” Cami cries, reaching for her brother. “We’re not leaving you here, Landon. No way.”
In my blurry state, I almost miss the meaningful look Ward sends Keeda. I don’t miss what happens next, though, because she nods once before turning to Cami and saying, as she once did to me, “You’re so very tired.” Light leaves her and touches Cami, likely with an added push of Ward’s power to make it stronger, since Keeda has to catch my now-unconscious roommate and drag her into the corner of the elevator.
Shocked, I stutter, “You just — you just —”
“Cam’s right,” Keeda says to Ward, interrupting me. “They’ll know you know more than you should. You have to come with us.”
“You need to complete your mission and get Alyssa out of here,” Ward tells her. “Cami, too, now. They’re all that matter.”
Even my fuzzy thoughts don’t like what is happening. “Ward —”
