by Sarah Noffke
The elevator doors open to a subtly somber Aiden. In one instant, all of my preparations that morning, all of the work I’ve done meditating, focusing, preparing…gone. His penetrating stare makes me crumble into a thousand pieces. My knees buckle like they’re suddenly made of play-dough. My chest, like I swallowed a beehive, hums nervously. I disembark from the elevator and he steps closer. If he was George he would know that his presence makes me crazy, makes me weak. All things I can’t be right now. But he isn’t and so he takes one more step forward.
Please, please, please stay away.
“I just needed to give you this.” He withdraws a crinkled piece of paper from his pocket. “It’s the list of GAD-C locations.”
My hand reaches out, but Aiden yanks the paper back when I’ve nearly clutched it.
I lift my gaze to his. “Roya, I know you can do this.”
“I know I have to do this.” I chew on the words bitterly. “I don’t know that I can.”
“I know you can do this,” he repeats. “You can defeat him.”
Him. The word hangs in the air like mold.
“You want to believe I can do this,” I say.
“You’re right.” Aiden exhales. “I do want to believe you can do this, because if you lose—”
“Then we all get sucked into Zhuang’s super-consciousness,” I finish his sentence.
“Perhaps,” he says and almost laughs. “But I know for certain that if you lose, I lose you.” He opens his mouth and it hangs open a second, two seconds, three. Finally he says, “It’s not like you’re mine, that’s not what I’m implying. I just can’t imagine never seeing you again.” He looks lost. Grave. Halfway to defeat.
I bite my lip and taste blood. He pushes a bit of my hair from my face. The craziness I’d been avoiding unravels in my stomach and begins snaking its way through my bloodstream.
I have zero idea how to respond. His words make me hurt. Make me want to resign from my position as challenger. I don’t care if the entire world goes down in flames, I want to stay by Aiden’s side just so he doesn’t feel lost. This temptation races across my mind before I catch up with myself. I wrench away from him and regret follows. Not being close to him is cold and desolate, and also the only way to maintain sanity.
I straighten and stare into Aiden’s glistening sapphire eyes. I once read all blue-eyed people are descended from a single individual. A strange bit of gratitude flows from my heart for this ancient ancestor of Aiden’s who gifted him with his piercing, thoughtful eyes. They haven’t wavered in all this time, although mine surely have.
“You know I can’t do this right now,” I say, gesturing between the two of us.
“I know,” he says.
“I have to remain focused and not get distracted because…” I force my eyes to fall to the ground, knowing in one more moment I’ll give in to him. I know one more stare from him and I’ll throw myself into his arms, erasing all the boundaries I’ve carefully placed between us.
“Because you have a mission to do,” Aiden says, completing my sentence. “And you will,” he states matter-of-factly. “And I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He thrusts the paper into my hand, closing his fingers around mine. With a tender squeeze he says, “Give him hell.”
I force a smile. “I’ll do my best.” Then I turn and tread down the hall and into the infirmary.
♦
Six beds line one wall of the infirmary. Whitney and George are already laid out with various wires snaking between them and machines beside their beds.
The lady with the wavy brown hair in purple scrubs bustles around checking to make sure things are fastened properly. With a flick of her head she indicates that I should take the bed on the far end of the room. I do, willing myself not to throw up. I trudge to my bed and by the time I’ve sat down, everyone else has arrived. The lady places a receiver on my fingertip. She’s about to attach sensors on my head when I stop her.
“No,” I say forcibly.
“But I’m supposed to,” she protests.
“Doesn’t matter. I said no.”
A dozen wrinkles appear around her mouth when she purses her lips. With a shake of her head she moves away in a flurry.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Trey watching me on the other side of the room. My instinct tells me he wants to approach, but also senses I’m not in the mood for a pep talk or anything else he can offer. He stares at me with a nervous expression until his eyes dart to Joseph, who takes the bed beside mine. We’re all just acquired assets that can secure the safety of Trey’s precious Institute. That much is obvious to me now, but that’s all right because I’m fighting for the Lucidites, not him.
Joseph allows the lady in lavender scrubs to hook him up and then reclines. Once our eyes meet, I shut mine. Somewhere in the forefront of my consciousness I hear him say, “Let’s go blow some shit up.”
A laugh escapes my mouth as I spiral through the first silver tunnel. The wind blasting me in the face is chilly and thin. I suck it in, and it mixes with my adrenaline. Six rapid turns, multiple lengths of seemingly identical tunnels, and a whirl of emotions precede my first stop. A small, cramped apartment. One by one I watch my team members dissolve the darkness into matter. When I spy a person almost as short as me materialize I step forward.
“I believe this is your stop,” I say. “The next time I see you won’t be so ideal.” My voice sounds wounded. I take a quick swallow. “Thanks in advance.”
Whitney places a warm hand on my arm and affection radiates through me. “Roya, if I may offer you one piece of advice, it would be something I’ve learned since joining this team.” Her nose wiggles and then she says, “Believe in yourself first and then act. Don’t expect it to happen the other way around.”
I nod, acknowledging her words and vaulting them away. I close my eyes, feeling the tug inside my core as my ethereal body travels. We drop off Samara and then Trent. Each person’s location is a small, dark room in a random building in a random city.
Upon arriving in George’s tiny, musty room he flashes a look at Joseph. My brother narrows his eyes and doesn’t offer us the least bit of privacy. George struggles with his words. I know he wants to say something, but instead he holds onto his edge. It wraps itself around his chin making him appear cold. He’s preparing himself to lose me. Already I’m dead in his mind. He holds up his large hand and waves. I chew on my lip and disappear.
“This is it,” I say to Joseph once we land in another nondescript room. “I’m going to be moving fast. If you can’t keep up—”
“I’ll keep up,” he interrupts.
“Fine.”
Joseph steps forward and hugs me. I bury my chin into his shoulder and press my eyelids together. When he pulls back, there’s a look in his eyes I’ve rarely seen him wear. Seriousness. It doesn’t stay long. A second later he covers it up with a small grin.
“I have a confession,’’ he says.
I roll my eyes and suppress a nervous giggle.
“I used to think it was bullshit that you, a scrawny little nerd, was picked as the challenger,” Joseph says in an exaggerated tone.
“Believe me, I don’t get it either,” I agree.
“I mean,” he goes on, “I’ve never even seen you eat meat, which kind of makes you seem wimpy and liberal. No offense.”
“Going to have to work harder than that to offend me,” I say.
“Thing is, I kept thinking I was tougher than you, stronger. I’ve known a long time my role was to assist you by loaning my energy in battle, but it didn’t mean I haven’t struggled with it. It’s not like I envied your role as the challenger, I just didn’t understand how you were the deadliest person the Lucidites could put up against Zhuang.”
“Seriously, Joseph, get to the point,” I spout as I fidget with my hands.
“Point is, I thought it took strength to defeat Zhuang, but I was wrong. There’s no way to be stronger than him. The reason you’re the challenger
is ’cause you have the one thing that can destroy him, something all of the rest of us lack.”
“A thorough knowledge of British literature?” I ask.
“If boring Zhuang to death is part of the strategy then that might work,” Joseph says. “No, your greatest asset, the one trait you can use to overpower him, is your passion.”
“Ummm, that doesn’t even make sense,” I argue.
“Sure it does,” he says, like we’re debating the color of the sky. “You can be so calculated and focused, which, don’t get me wrong is a lethal mixture, but when you let your passion overtake you, it’s like you become a monster. You’re unstoppable.”
“So you think I’m the challenger because I’m a hormonal teenager?”
Joseph rolls his eyes. “I think you’re the challenger because you’re talented. But more importantly, you use your emotions to drive you, instead of allowin’ them to distract you.”
It’s reaffirming to hear this at the eleventh hour, but what good will it do me?
“I know now you’re the perfect challenger,” Joseph says. “Zhuang will expect his strength to be tested, for strategy to be a part of the fight, for you to rely on intuitive abilities to aid you in battle.” He holds up one finger. “But that greedy son of a bitch won’t expect your tenacious spirit to be a threat.”
Heat rises in my head from his words and the realization that the team and the Head Officials are all spying on our conversation. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I finally say.
“That’s all I wanted to say.” Joseph hesitates and then adds, “In case I don’t get ‘nother chance.”
I nod. I swallow. I force a smile on my mouth. “I better get going.”
“You better,” Joseph sings.
This is it. There’s no turning back. I close my eyes and focus.
“Oh and li’l sis,” Joseph says, pulling me from my reverie.
“What?” I bite at him, only half annoyed.
“When the time comes”—he sucks in a long breath before continuing—“take every bit of energy from me that you need to defeat him. It’s all yours.” He gives a triumphant smile.
“Maybe it won’t come to that,” I half whisper.
“Well, if it does, then you’ll have one less obstacle, knowing I gave my full permission.”
I clench my jaw and push back a lump in my throat the size of Montana. “Got it.” My eyes say my goodbyes as the rest of me remains frozen and contained.
“See you ‘round, Stark,” Joseph says in my ear as I spiral through the grayness. The tunnel narrows right before it turns. My headdress catches the wind. All my effort and training are about to be tested and broadcast for my team and the Institute to witness. A violent flash assaults me at the same time as this realization. In it Trey, Ren, Shuman, Aiden, and my team watch Zhuang deliver the last blow that kills me. My breath catches in my throat and I can’t will it to continue its path for a long few seconds.
Joseph’s voice from a few days ago trails into my head, rescuing me from paralysis. Flashes are just potentials. You always have the ability to change them.
Chapter Forty-Two
I shoot through a short tunnel, free fall briefly, and land with a heavy thud in the open square. Crouched, I note the slick bricks under my feet. It’s just rained. Daytime in Moscow. The Red Square, as planned, is filled with people. They hurry in different directions, ignorant of the war about to be waged for them so they can continue their busy affairs and sleep blissfully at night.
“Ready?” I bark into the headset.
“Yeah,” echoes a collective response from my team.
A flash: Zhuang strides at my three o’clock. His black and white robes flap around him like flags as he charges through unaware Middlings. Water displaced from his slippered feet splashes onto nearby bricks.
I turn, ball my fists and clench my jaw. This is it. The moment I’ve prepared for. Strangely I have no fear, only rampant adrenaline and also an odd sense of belonging. I belong in this moment. What happens next is a part of a fate I can’t avoid and don’t want to.
A gust of wind trumpets his arrival. The air smells ancient, like the inside of a tomb full of mummies and dust. A thousand déjà vus spring to my mind as he strides forward. I expected him to tower over me and his gait to rock the earth like thunder. However, he’s smaller than I envisioned. All lean and sinewy muscles, he moves through the air like a fish through water.
Zhuang’s eyes snap to mine. His long, black goatee whips in the wind. Gracefully, he draws his hand up above his head and holds it there. I quicken, readying my defenses, wondering what he’s about to do. He clasps his fist shut and the air around him freezes. The wind that blows through my hair, scattering droplets of rain in the nearby puddles and riffling strangers’ scarves, has no effect on him. He’s conquered this element. An ounce of annoyance seeps from his face as he takes in the stillness of his robes. Satisfied, he measuredly scans the square, not meeting my gaze until a full minute has passed.
“Are you ready to die?” he snarls.
I take one calculated step forward, leaving only five feet between us, and his menacing eyes slither across me for the first time. Large slitted black pupils hang in an all-encompassing gold.
“Yes,” I growl.
One by one a duplicate projection of me explodes from the bricks until four Royas accompany me. They spiral until we’re back-to-back in a circle. My body levitates off the ground three inches. “But you’re going to have to find me first.”
We spin, my doppelgangers and I, like cups in a magic trick. I hold tight, knowing my rigidness makes it easier for Trent to move me. Forty times we rotate at lightning speed before we drop onto the bricks and take off running in different directions.
I sprint, momentarily blinded as I pass through people. Hoping the illusions have worked, I don’t look back. My only focus is on springing forward, ensuring I put enough distance between Zhuang before the next phase.
“It worked!” Samara reports eagerly. “He’s following Whitney’s projection of Roya. He already sliced through mine.”
“Joseph,” Trent breaks in. “Send your projection in Zhuang’s direction, if you find him. This could be helpful for when he kills the second Roya.”
The thought of Zhuang murdering illusions of me all over Red Square makes me want to vomit. Shaking this off, I close my eyes and focus on my next location. The idea wraps around me first, like water in a bathtub, and then my body springs forth with a jolt. My mind relaxes slightly, knowing I can count on the tunnels to do the navigating. The journey to the next layer is short.
A furious river gorge churns under my feet. The bank I stand on descends roughly 500 feet to the rocky and violent currents below. A bird sings in the distance and a beautiful row of lush trees stands on the opposite bank. Not a bad place to die.
“I’m here,” I say with an even tone. “Trent, I’m ready when you are.”
I flex every muscle in my body just as we practiced. Steadily, I rise off the ground and gradually float. My feet drift over the edge of the bank and my pulse quickens. The water below licks at the banks, hungry to swallow new life, chew it up, and spit it onto sharp rocks. Bile rises in my throat. My life’s in Trent’s hands. Although his ability is unmatched, he can’t see me now, only where I’m headed. I know this complicates matters. Inch by inch I make progress. It’s sluggish. I worry Zhuang will track me before everything’s in place.
Panic begins caving in the vast space around me. I wrestle with hounding Trent to move faster, but decide that might be deadly to his concentration. Instead I close my eyes and begin counting back from one hundred. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until my feet land on solid earth. All at once my eyes spring open and my lungs take a generous gulp of air.
“She’s in place!” Trent bellows.
“Nice work!” Joseph exclaims.
I turn toward the river’s edge, staring across to where I’d been moments prior. “Ready, team?” I comman
d. “On my count.” I take a full inhale. “One. Two. Three.” It flickers, like Christmas tree lights being turned on for the first time in a season, and then becomes solid. A bridge, large and sturdy, ripples into existence, joining the two banks. The team can see it on their monitors, but only George can feel my overwhelming sense of pride. I don’t get a chance to express it before something moves on the opposite bank. Zhuang. He’s tracked me.
Pushing the ground away like a bull, he glowers at me. “Clever trick, little girl. You can die now or later. Your choice. But you will die tonight.”
A flash: A spear whizzes through the air, pushing through the molecules of space, forcing its way to its intended target. For a second I think it might actually find it.
My mind retracts to real time just as Zhuang jerks out of the spear’s trajectory. It continues on its path, sliding though the air until it smoothly lands in my hand. I flip it around. “Thanks, Trent.”
Zhuang narrows his brooding eyes. “Looks like I’ll have the pleasure of killing your friends too,” he says. “First things first, let’s take care of you.” He sprints forward, clearing the first half of the bridge in less time than is humanly possible.
“Now!” I scream when he’s only fifteen feet away. The bridge dissolves as quickly as it appeared. Zhuang scrambles through the air once he realizes his error. I wrench back my arm and fire the spear at him. He wrestles with his inevitable fall. The weapon sticks into his side, and he takes it with him as he free falls toward the rocky rapids. Over the thunder of the torrents, I hear a roar echo through the canyon. He’s falling fast, but dream travels just before entering the water.
I step back away from the edge, shaking with adrenaline. Knowing I have to move I travel three layers, hoping to get a chance to recover.
“The first two phases are complete,” I say, catching my breath. “He’s injured. Now phase three begins. Where is he?”
There’s a long silence. “Samara? George? Does one of you know where he is?” I ask again.
