"That's amazing," I said.
"We have records of every ability ever manifested in the palace library. They figured out that my skin was stronger than everyone else's, which explained why I'd never hurt myself as a kid. Turned out, I had my ability all along, and never knew it." He took my hand in his and gazed into my eyes. "What I'm saying is, give it time. We go through the traditional powers first, and get into the rarer ones later. So the longer it takes, the better your ability might be."
"Or it'll be something rare and useless, like being able to change the colours of things I touch," I said.
"Wel,l at least you can work as the palace painter then," Will replied with a smile.
He was so close to me I could feel life breath on my lips. He was stunning, his hair glowing as bright as his golden eyes. Will wore his usual white t-shirt, but it smelled of sweat from training.
I felt myself leaning in, searching for his lips, desperately wanting them pressed against mine. I was centimetres away when Will jumped from the bed.
"I have to go," he said, his face pink and flustered.
"Will. You don't have to," I replied, moving toward him.
He backed away like I was contagious or something. "I shouldn't have come."
"I want you here," I said, reaching out to touch him, but he was at the door in moments. I was only just skimming the surface of feelings I didn't completely understand.
"I won't visit you this late again," he said, not looking at me, which broke my heart. "Goodnight, Miss Greenwood."
And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.
"Will," I called desperately, wondering what on earth I had done wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Keisuke comfortably slept in bed with me that night while I fought back tears. It was silly to cry. What was the point? So Will didn't like me in that way—what did I care, really? He was my friend, and friends were what I needed now, not complicated love interests. Keisuke snuggled in closer to my face and licked my cheek.
"Thanks," I said and hugged him tighter.
The night was long, and I didn't get much sleep at all. What little I did achieve was plagued with nightmares that involved people yelling at me for various reasons. Ivan screamed at me for being a dog. Isabelle screeched about not wearing dresses, and Will yelled at me for flirting with him.
In the end, I gave up on sleep and rolled out of bed into a dark room. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table: 4.37 am.
What on earth could I do at that time of the morning? Training was still hours away. On the plus side, Isabelle and Ivan would surely be asleep.
I was still angry with them. The initial sting had faded after everything with Will, but the red-hot ball still burned in my gut.
"What to do?" I asked myself, while pulling on jeans and a shirt.
The sudden damp of Keisuke's wet nose touched my hand as he tried to snuggle inside my palm. His blues eyes stared at me, with an affection that I shared.
"How about a walk?" I asked him, but he only cocked his head at me and stared. Not as smart as Lab; but then again, Lab had actually been Will.
I found dog food in the corner of my wardrobe and scattered some on the floor. Keisuke nibbled up each piece like he was following a trail. A box of dog toys sat next to the food, but I couldn't find a lead anywhere. In fact Keisuke didn't even have a collar. What if he got lost? I supposed that, really, he could only be somewhere in the compound, and there were so many dogs that he'd turn up sooner or later.
I pulled on some runners and a hoodie, knowing the chill of an autumn morning would bite worse than Keisuke ever could.
"Come on Keisuke," I called from the door.
He chewed on the last piece of food and then bounded after me with a bark.
"Shhhh," I said, pressing my finger to my lips. Keisuke stopped instantly.
I guess he was still pretty smart.
I crept down stairs, but it didn't really matter. This house didn't have creaky floorboards like I was used to. This house was too new, too clean and too perfect. I didn't like it.
Keisuke and I walked along the sidewalk as a brisk morning wind swept up the falling leaves. There was a chill to the air, but Keisuke barely noticed; he chased windswept leaves like a true hunting dog. I trailed behind him, hand securely inside my warm pockets, and let my feet guide me.
I loved the empty streets. There were no other dogs or people to get in my way. It felt like I was the last person on earth, and I couldn't have been happier.
My footsteps pounded the pavement and, with each step, a little anger dissipated. You're a jerk, Ivan. I thought you trusted me, Isabelle. You've got no ability, Kyra
Wait.
Was that what I was really angry about?
It made sense. If I could just work out my ability then maybe I'd fit in, maybe people would start to tell me things, and I could be accepted.
Will had said the Djinn would test me on all the common abilities before the abnormal. I didn't want to be abnormal—not that Will was—but I was already such an outcast that I hoped my ability would be something simple and easy to master.
Keisuke stopped to pee on a nearby tree and bark at a squirrel scampering up the branches. I gazed at the surrounding area and realised I didn't know where I was. I was certain I was in the lower ring, judging from the difference in housing size and shape, but I'd definitely never been in this part before.
Keisuke continued to bark at the squirrel as it leaped from branch to branch, as if teasing him. He jumped at the tree but had no hope of catching his prey. Then, as if hearing something I couldn't, Keisuke's ears pricked and his head darted toward a metal fence. It was made from iron bars covered in ivy, clearly worn and old.
"What is it?" I asked him as he sniffed the air. Before I could stop him, Keisuke darted off toward the fence, squeezing through a small gap where the fence was broken.
"Keisuke!" I shouted, but he didn't come back, and there was no way I was fitting through that tiny hole. I ran around the outside of the barred fence, searching for a way to the other side and calling Keisuke's name. The bars began to blur until I felt dizzy, but I kept on running.
I stopped at the entrance, a large iron archway with matching gate. A word was crafted into the ironwork: Cemetery.
I pushed on the gates, but they were held together with a chain and lock. I rattled them, as if it would somehow magically open, but nothing happened.
There were cement pillars on either side of the gate breaking up the scary, spiked iron bars. I'd never had a problem with climbing, or running, or anything athletic, really. I'd been trained to handle any situation that involved me needing to get away in a hurry, so scaling that fence was easy. I took a running leap at the gate and held on tight as it swayed under my weight. I climbed as well as I did when I'd scaled the drainpipe my first night in the Djinn world; although that felt like a lifetime ago now. In minutes I was sitting on the top of the pillar, swinging my legs and jumping down the other side.
I'd never been to a cemetery before. It had always been just me and Malcolm, so we had no need to visit one, but I'd seen them in movies and laughed at how people could find themselves scared.
Standing in one then, I finally understood. The cold morning had produced an eerie mist wafting over the patchy grass and headstones. It was hard to see anything in front of my face, and a shiver ran down my spine. Every single horror film I'd ever seen was playing through my mind, and I wondered if a chainsaw-wielding maniac was about to burst out from behind the nearest tombstone and slash me to death. I tried to push the thought from my mind and told myself not to think about those things, but once I'd started, I couldn't stop.
I crept along what looked like a path. My hands twitched at my sides, sensing for danger.
"Keisuke," I called, keeping my voice low. "Come here boy."
I passed gravestone after gravestone, reading names and dates that meant nothing to me, though a feeling of sadness stuck in my throat for those who
were no longer here. I passed yet another row of stones when one caught my eye.
Sasha Greenwood. Greenwood … that was my name.
I moved in closer for a better look and found a whole line of Greenwood graves. Hansen. Benedict. Sophia. The names went on and on.
These were Ivan's family. My family. I hadn't realised there were so many buried here, but what shocked me most were the graves themselves. They were ruined, crumbling around the edges, covered in weeds and mud—unkempt and uncared for.
I brushed away some overgrowth from Sasha's grave.
"Loving mother and wife of Benedict," I read.
I remembered from my tour of the house with Isabelle that Sasha and Benedict Greenwood were Ivan's grandparents. Ivan's grandparents were right here, my great-grandparents, and it looked like he'd never even come to visit them. How could Ivan not come and see his parent's graves? If it was my dad, I'd be here every week just to talk to him—although, now I knew Ivan was my Dad, I wasn't so sure I'd be seeking grave visitation. I remembered the portraits in our house that Isabelle had shown me. Every one of the faces Ivan hung so particularly on the wall were here.
I realised the truth of it. Ivan only cared about image. He hung the portraits to show off to others how great his family was, but in reality, he couldn't care less about them or what they'd done. It only mattered how it affected him, how it made him look.
"Kyra?"
Hearing my name made me jump. I turned to the mist and watched a figure materialize from the nothing.
"Pyke." I realised as his Mohawk came into focus. "What are you doing here?"
"I was going to ask you that," he said, flowers in his hand and my Husky pup at his heels.
"Keisuke," I said with utter relief.
"So he's yours," Pyke said, bending down to ruffle Keisuke's fur.
"Maybe not for long," I replied, "if he keeps running away like that." Keisuke's ears drooped, as if sensing I was annoyed.
"Don't be so hard on him," Pyke said. "He probably just smelled another dog and came to investigate. I am extremely interesting, after all."
Pyke flashed me a contagious grin, and whatever annoyance I felt melted away. Keisuke, sensing the shift in mood, perked up once more and nuzzled my hand.
"So, what's a fine Djinn such as yourself doing in a place like this?" Pyke said. "Besides chasing runaway mutts."
"Just wandering really," I admitted. "What about you?" I glanced at the lavender flowers in Pyke's hand. "Visiting?"
Pyke's face shifted and paled. "Yeah," he said, "visiting."
He gazed off for a moment, before shaking it off. "Come on," he said. "There's someone I want you to meet."
I trailed behind while Keisuke stayed close to Pyke's side. I wondered if Keisuke had sensed another dog's pain and wanted to help.
As Pyke walked, it seemed to get harder and harder for him, like something was holding him down, trying to stop him. We passed another archway, separating one part of the cemetery from the rest. Writing was carved into the metal above the arch, but it wasn't in English, so I had no idea what it said.
It felt like we were in the heart of the cemetery, and a heavy, musky scent weighed down on me. The graves here were different from the Greenwoods'. These graves shone with polished stone, green grass and colourful flowers. These graves were cared for; these people were loved.
Pyke stopped in front of a large tombstone. It was twice the size of the others, with a statue of a large Dobermann on the top. Pyke brushed some fallen leaves off the Dobermann's stone nose, his hand lingering before dropping away.
"Kyra," he said with a sad smile. "This is Dad."
He stepped aside so I could see the grave in full: a rectangular headstone with the Dobermann on top. The stone was a stunning and polished, with no hint of weeds of neglect. I caught a glimpse of the writing on the headstone.
"Grant Danvers. Loving father and husband. Guardjinn," I read and I raised my eyebrow.
"The last part surprises you," Pyke guessed.
"No. I mean maybe. I just …"
"It's alright. I don't expect you to get it." Pyke rubbed Keisuke's ears while he sniffed the ground.
"You're wrong," I replied. "I know you're proud to be Guardjinn. I just don't understand why you're proud of it."
Pyke shook his head, as if I were a silly girl who didn't understand the world. I suppose I really didn't understand anything anymore, but I was trying.
"Explain it to me," I said. "Help me understand."
"You see Guardjinn as slaves," he said.
"You are slaves—"
Pyke raised a hand to stop me and I shut my mouth.
"Sorry."
"Like I said, you think we're slaves, and the reality is, we are. We're seen as servants in the eyes of other Djinn, but it's been that way for thousands of years. But Guardjinn are warriors." The word "warriors" was thick with pride.
"Warriors?"
"In the beginning, Guardjinn were part of the royal armies. They fought with strength and honor."
"But not now."
Pyke's head fell. "No, not anymore. Times changed. There was no need for armies when the Djinn locked themselves in gated communities, so we put down our weapons and became babysitters for Djinn, who preferred to spend their time arguing amongst themselves rather than face the dangers outside."
Pyke placed the lavender at the foot of the grave and fingered the carved words. "My dad always believed in fighting for the Djinn, protecting them from anything that threatened them. He died fighting. He died a hero."
I could see the tears running down Pyke's cheeks, but pretended not to notice, for his sake. Pyke played up his bad boy persona but here, in this place, in front of his father's grave, he could be himself. I saw Pyke in a new light. He was more than the guy who'd kidnapped me, who played jokes and pretended not to care.
Keisuke licked Pyke's face and made whimpering sounds, as if sharing his pain. I placed my hand on his shoulder and crouched beside him.
"You take after him," I said. "That's why you were so angry at my—at Malcolm. You were protecting me."
Pyke's fists clenched, knuckles white.
"Yeah," he said. "That's why."
He stood abruptly and turned his back to the grave.
"We should head back," he said.
"Sure," I replied, wondering why he wanted to leave so fast, but I didn't want to push something he clearly was uncomfortable with. "Lead the way."
Chapter Twenty-Four
"We're running out of normal abilities to test," Millie sighed, leaning against the back wall of the training room. Her skin was flickering from skin colour to the same shade as the wall behind her.
"Millie, your camouflage is kicking in," Nate warned.
"Oh!" Millie jumped away from the wall, held her arms out and focused, until they went back to normal. "There, much better. That always happens when I'm stressed," she said.
"Sorry to be stressing you," I said, slumping my shoulders as I sat against the wall—no colour change included.
Training was going horribly again. Whatever spirits Pyke had managed to raise in me had fallen flat once more. The whole morning had been one failed test after another. Nothing came to me, nothing felt any different. I buried my face in my hands and sighed.
"Oh, Kyra. I'm sorry," Millie said, embracing me in a crouched hug. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I am stressed, but it has nothing to do with you. I know how hard it can be to find your ability."
I waved her off. "It's fine, Millie. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm stressed, too."
Millie stopped rambling and took a deep breath. "Don't worry," she said. "You'll get it eventually."
I groaned even louder. I wished people would stop saying that. I didn't want eventually, I wanted now.
Millie detached herself from me and fist-pumped the air, as if that would somehow jumpstart me into a better mood.
"Millie's right," Nate said, placing his arm around my shoulders. "You will get this.
Everyone finds their ability."
"But I want it now," I moaned, like a two-year-old in a toy store. Millie and Nate laughed, which made me laugh too.
"Okay," I said, feeling more energised again. "What's next?"
Seth stood at little way off from us, making tennis balls float in the air with his mind. He was always with us, but it never felt like he was entirely there. Seth seemed to prefer his own thoughts to actual people.
I wonder if that's how people used to see me? I hardly talked to other people when I was with Malcolm, but that didn't mean I didn't want to. Perhaps Seth did want to talk and be friendly, but he didn't know how.
"Maybe we should take a break and focus on our own abilities," Seth suggested, eyes still focused on the tennis balls.
"Seth, we're helping Kyra," Millie replied, shaking her head.
"No, he's right," I said. "You guys practice your abilities. I'd love to see them in action, and I need a break anyway."
"All right," Nate agreed and moved to the middle of the room. "Millie," he called.
She nodded, and blue veins rippled through the skin around her eyes as she took off into the air like a balloon, gliding up to the ceiling. Once high enough she called down, "Ready."
Seth and Nate stood below her. Seth had a basket of tennis balls and Nate a candle.
"Okay, go!" Nate shouted.
Seth started shooting off tennis balls toward Millie, who floated side to side, out of their way. It was like a dance where Millie was the star and, of course, she looked beautiful. She darted with grace, never letting a single ball hit her.
Nate flicked his hand over the candle's flame, gathering it in the palm of his hand like he was simply taking an apple from a table. The flame danced on his fingers, the low glow reflected in his golden eyes. The blue veins around his eyes were like cracking plaster, and Nate thrust his hand out, sending the flame in small bursts that lit the flying tennis balls alight. The flaming balls were supposed to add danger, but with Millie in the air and a light display surrounding her, I could only gaze up in amazement.
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