by Vivien Reis
"I have absolutely no idea what fangirling is and yes, I did. Holy—"
"He didn't tell me anything! We should call him Jonathan the Useless for how amazingly unhelpful that was." Abi wiped both hands down her face and groaned.
"Come on. He told you we have to get the stone to get your family back. That's huge."
"But what does that mean? I won't magically get my old life back when I lay hands on that stone. He gave us a teaser for what sounds like a shitty movie."
Jesse chuckled and Abi pursed her lips. “Well, where did you put this fancy crystal? Is it still at your house? With Gran?”
Her throat felt suddenly thick, like the words wouldn’t ever be able to leave her mouth. “I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” All pretense of playfulness disappeared.
“The stone is at your house. I gave to Cora after the King’s Army found me.”
“You what?” He seemed to be trying to keep his voice down, the words quaking from the effort.
“I know, I’m sorry. Part of me hoped, prayed, that this stone would be nothing. That Jonathan would be able to tell me that this stone wasn’t connected to this in any way. I—”
“You risked my sister’s life! Your best friend. Why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt in his words felt like a dagger in her chest.
“I know.” She whispered. “I was wrong.”
Their conversation died as a strong pulse hit her mind.
She'd never felt anything like it but Jesse didn’t seem phased.
"It's a comm from Myra."
He closed his eyes, and Abi attempted to let the message in. Pieces of it came through but in frustrating waves.
Finally, Jesse translated the full comm for her. "There's been another attack. We have to go." He grabbed her hand and paused. "Hold on to my mind tight, okay? Latch on like you're stitching and...hold your breath."
“I thought you didn’t have the energy to hop.”
“We have no choice. Hold on,” he said, squeezing her hand.
He didn't wait for her protest. His mind grasped hers firmly and she tried her best to reciprocate. Her mind pulled taut and she groaned against the strain on her mind. The world vanished beneath them, and her stomach flew up into her throat. Her feet stretched below her, searching for ground until she landed, buckling into a heap as the world spun around and around her. People were shouting again, and Jesse pulled her up off the ground, rather roughly, as people nearly trampled her.
The square was beyond crowded. Jesse was still holding her hand, dragging her through as she tried to wrangle on to her brain. It still felt like she had left half of it on the north side of the island.
As they made their way to the edge of the crowd, where they could clearly see the Consul members now gathering at the top of the hospital steps, Abi caught sight of Myra just inside, hovering over someone on a gurney.
"How bad is it?" Abi yelled over the crowd.
"Worse than the last, it seems."
"People of Elysia." Cecelia's voice carried easily over the crowd, as a portion of it magnified in all of their minds. Abi struggled to receive the message in a fluid manner. "The King's Army has attacked yet again, this time one of our intelligence satellites in Los Angeles. If you have loved ones you believe were there during the attack, we ask that you form a single-file line outside the library. Again, we ask that anyone with medical training volunteer to aid those injured by tonight's attack. We are also instituting a mandatory evacuation from the general population to Elysia or Roden. Sleeping quarters will be arranged for every Oracle who wishes to seek sanctuary."
Panic spread across the crowd in a palpable wave as people burst into questions.
"What are we going to do?"
"How do we know we'll be safe here?"
"What about our families?"
Jesse pulled Abi through the crowd, his grip firm, until they stood at the edge of the mass of people.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to go get that necklace. Okay?” His face hovered in front of hers until her eyes finally focused and she nodded. He vanished.
It was so foolish of her to wait until the island was in chaos to tell him. People here needed him and he had to deal with her mistakes instead.
Her thoughts were lost in the sea of people and she fidgeted, waiting for Jesse to return. To say everything was alright. To bring the necklace back.
What if she was connected to these attacks as well? What if the root on her mind was feeding information to the King's Army, or what if the man she had overheard was somewhere in the crowd with them? Blending in...
A rough hand grabbed her arm, ripping her away from Jesse's grip. She cried out as she was yanked in front of a broad-shouldered teenager.
"What did you just say?" His teeth gritted together in a snarl, but Abi couldn't speak. She hadn't realized she had let her barrier down, didn't realize her thought had been broadcast to everyone around her. The boy still gripping her arm wasn't the only one that looked angry.
“I—“ he jerked her forward, into the crowd.
“I heard you,” he yelled. “You’re working for the King’s Army. Aren’t you?” Everyone around them stared, fear plain on their faces. The boy shoved her away and into another man, jostling several people in the crowd. More shouts erupted over the already chaotic scene.
"Let go of her," Jesse called from behind her.
She struggled to reach him but the boy wasn't finished. "She has a root," his voice echoed around them. "None of these attacks started until after she arrived. How do we know she's not providing information to the King's Army?"
"Hey! I said let her go." This was a side of Jesse she’d never seen. His jaw was set, his stance wide as if he were ready to leap. It seemed like she missed some interchange between him and the man holding her, because he roughly pushed her away.
Jesse steadied her and moved to stand between her and the men.
"Is it true?" a frantic woman asked. "If she has a root from the King's Army, then we're not safe here."
The crowd circled them, tightening and closing in, and she was back in the basement. Her breathing was fast, too quick, and her head swam, but she couldn't get enough air. She was drowning.
Jesse pulled her away, forcing a path through the crowd.
He didn't stop until he stood in front of Cecelia, demanding safer quarters for Abi, but she wasn't fully listening. Abi could feel the hate pulsing from the crowd, see it like a color on every one of the faces that stared at her. She wasn't wanted here, no longer a guest on an island she hadn’t wanted to be on in the first place.
"Myra won't be able to stay with her with so many injured at the hospital," Jesse argued.
"We can't spare anyone at the moment and you know that."
"Then let me watch her—"
"Your services are needed elsewhere right now.” Cecelia said. “If we can lock on to a trace, we may be able to track down the others they've taken before anything happens to them."
Abi finally zoned in on the conversation. They were taking Oracles?
"You're throwing her to the wolves, Vikar. You know this is wrong. I'll help at the hospital and she can stay with me. At least until this panic dissipates."
She yielded. "We'll further discuss the people’s concerns about Abi. For the time being, Abi, please refrain from dropping your mental barrier again. You may assist at the hospital, Jesse, until further notice." She seemed to say it just to get rid of them, but Abi didn't care about that.
Anger flared in her chest and she wanted to lash out, to yell. She had nearly been assaulted by an angry mob, and she was the one being chastised?
Jesse dragged her into the hospital. There were too many people bumping into one another and the deeper they went, the worse it got. Men and women crowded the halls in gurneys and chairs, most covered in dust, some bleeding from patched up wounds.
"This way."
Jesse's instructions drifted away from her. Pun
gent antiseptic floated in the air, reminding her of her dad, all alone in a bed, hooked up to machines and dying, far from where she was.
Instead of tending to the sick, though, Jesse guided her to an empty room and closed the door.
“Abi,” he moved to directly in front of her and she tensed.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Did you find the crystal?”
The look he gave her made her freeze. She’d been imagining that look, dreading it, hoping she would never see it.
“Did you get the stone?” She knew this wasn’t what he’d been about to say.
“No. It’s gone. And Cora…she’s hurt. I’ll have to go back and get her but—“
“But what?”
“It’s your dad.”
Part of her waited for him to finish, to hear what he had to say but she didn’t want to hear it. She stumbled backward and turned to go, opening the door a crack before he slammed it closed.
“Abi—“ he tried.
“No! I don’t need to hear it.” A knot tightened in her throat, making it hard to breath, to swallow. Tears clouded her vision. Again, she pulled on the door but it only opened a hair before Jesse pushed it closed.
She pressed her forehead into the door, not letting him see her face. “Just give me a minute, I just need to leave, I’ll be right back,” Her hand still gripped the handle, pulling. Shards of her were breaking off, falling apart around her. “Please,” she whispered, the last of herself disappearing as the tears spilled.
“I can’t leave you alone right now.” His voice was soft and but she whirled on him.
“I never wanted to be here!” Something snapped and she pushed him away from her. “I wanted to go home. I wanted to be with him, but they wouldn’t let me.” She focused on breathing through her nose, but it was already too stuffy, pressure building in her head.
“I’m sorry,” again he tried to approach her but she pulled away.
“Just go away. Please! I need a minute.” Her knees quaked. She needed to sit, to think for a second.
Her breathing grew ragged. She wanted to be alone, why wouldn’t he leave her be? She blinked, rubbing at her eyes, and then she was sitting on the floor, her back against the door.
Wheezing. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
There had been some kind of mistake—Jesse had gotten confused or misunderstood someone. This wasn’t real.
Jesse knelt to the ground beside her and waited for her to calm down.
“I want to see him,” she said.
He gave a slight shake of his head, and spoke slowly. “I don’t know if you can take the hop right now.”
“Enough! I’m tired of everyone saying that! That I’m weak, that I’m behind, that my mind isn’t fully developed. I get it. I just—I need to see him.” Her teeth were clinched so tight her jaw ached but she didn’t stop.
They sat for a while, her raspy breathing the only sound inside the room.
“I don’t know if I have the energy for a hop,” he finally said.
“I need to see him!” She yelled and then felt guilty. He wasn’t the enemy. He wasn’t the one that kept her from leaving the island.
He scooted closer to her and the closer he got, the heavier the weight in her chest.
It wasn’t true.
Her dad was still alive.
“He’s gone, Abi.” The words were like thunder in the room, words she’d feared, but never thought she would hear.
“I didn’t even say goodbye. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.” Her voice broke and a chunk of her broke with it.
His arms enveloped her. “I know,” he whispered. And he did. But when he’d learned about his dad, he’d had his mom, Cora, his family there with him.
Gran and Ben were alone now.
She was alone.
All she could see was the man in that bed, the father she’d grown up with paling in her memory. The heartache built in her chest, rising higher and higher into her throat until it broke free. She sobbed, thinking of her dad and the things he would never see, that he would never be a part of.
Teaching her to drive.
Her wedding day.
Holding his first grandchild.
Jesse held her tight, but it wasn’t enough.
The world had finally crushed her.
Jesse stirred her awake, her puffy eyes hard to lift open.
In a haze, he led her from the room.
They made rounds throughout the hospital, Jesse laying his hands on the injured, performing some silent ritual each time. As he did this, her heart would take off in her chest, racing against the pace of the hospital, urging her deeper into terrorizing quicksand. Each time they drew away from one person and moved to another, Jesse would hold Abi's hand for just a moment. She gripped it tightly, fearing she might crush it and panicking again when he would let go.
She’d lost track of time, and the day seemed impossibly long. How long ago was it that Jesse had told her?
The halls stretched on and on, one followed by another and another, like she was drifting through a nightmare. A familiar voice pulled her out of her haze.
It was Myra. Something was wrong.
"Oh, shit." Jesse tugged her along when Myra came into view. Both of her hands were spread wide on a large man's chest. Theo.
He was unconscious. Dried blood was smeared under his nose and ears. Abi reached out with her own mind in the chaos but there was nothing. She couldn't watch, she couldn't see this. Myra yelled for another doctor. Jesse stood behind the gurney, gripping Theo's head.
She wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere calm. The ocean, waves crashing rhythmically, the breeze rustling her hair. Something pulled her to the side, away from Theo, and she followed Jesse automatically as he led her away. His mind reached out to hers with force. Finally, they were leaving, and Abi stretched her mind around his as best she could.
But it wasn't Jesse's. She looked up. The young man from the crowd squeezed her upper arms painfully before they fell through the earth.
# FORTY-TWO
Ben's periods of lucidity were growing further and further apart. It was a Friday, but he’d stayed in bed most of the day. He didn't want to hurt Gran. He knew something wasn't right with him—knew it deep down in his bones.
Last night's events had shaken him. It couldn't have been real, none of it. He would never hurt Cora, but he had felt so far away from it all. How could he have the necklace now if he hadn’t seen her though? It wasn't right.
And the cryptic messages that Cora had translated. Those weren’t real either. Were they?
Periodically, Ben would wake up standing somewhere, once in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror, and two times in the living room, looking out into the front yard.
Gran was reading on the couch as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. She was the only family he had, but not after tonight. He would find his mom and Abi. He would bring them back, and then his dad would get better.
Ben had to stay focused. He had to make it to midnight so he could perform the ritual. The day dragged. Ben tried to take a small bite of a cracker and promptly dry-heaved. For lunch, he took his plate to his room, telling Gran he wanted to be alone for a bit. He popped the window open in his room and scraped the sandwich into the fresh snow in the backyard.
As soon as he did this, black ants swarmed the sandwich, coming out of the walls and icy snow until nothing remained of the food. The ants lingered, waiting for a command. He closed the window.
At last, the sun began to set and Ben pulled the box out again, locking the bedroom door just in case.
Moving slowly, he set each one on the ground and took a deep breath to clear the fog in his mind.
He read the piece of paper.
Brew tealeaves in a cup of hot water, waiting twelve minutes. Wait until midnight of the full moon before consuming. Place the sphere on the ground. Sanctify it with your blood and recite the following: ‘Bestow thy gift upon me, my Lord
; grant me your strength, your essence, your life; take my blood as a sacrifice, and take my body as your eyes; show me that which I seek most. Use this mind as thy vessel.’
Was he supposed to memorize this? If not, when was he supposed to burn it? Before or after the ritual?
He kept reading the piece of paper over and over, trying his best to soak in the words. Each time he tried to recite them, he would stumble over himself and have to look down at the paper. There was no way he would get it right.
“Everything depends on this moment,” the deep voice said. It was right. This wasn't a time to waver, this was a time to act. That woman and her people would be watching, waiting for him to give them a location. He hoped things would move swiftly from there.
Ben was surprised that Mr. Flynn hadn't shown up—what would he think about Ben's secrecy? When he found out where his mom was, what would he tell his teacher?
Gran knocked on his door and he hurried to step out into the hall, surprising her. He clicked the door closed behind him and tried his best to look present and alert.
"Goodnight, Gran. I'm just going to make myself a bowl of cereal and get to bed."
She nodded and told him goodnight.
He waited until her door closed and walked down the hall to the kitchen. It was all just for show, but Ben took out a bowl, dumped cereal in, and poured a splash of milk. He carried the bowl to his room and set it on the dresser.
Then he waited.
“It is time.”
He jerked awake, fearing he’d slept through his window of opportunity. But it was twenty minutes until midnight. Every creak of the floorboards in his room made him freeze, sure that Gran would hear.
After slipping on a coat, he grabbed his boots and the box and tiptoed to the kitchen.
He filled the electric kettle and waited impatiently for steam to pour out of it. He dumped the herbs into a tumbler, cringing with the bitter and pungent odor, and added water.
His hands were full as he struggled to get out of the door, pinching his fingers between the box and the tumbler as he exited. Once outside, he put his boots on, the cold biting through his socks instantly.
