by Inara Scott
So I roused every last bit of energy I had. I imagined Mr. Fritz telling me that my exhaustion was all in my mind. And then I felt something inside me snap, and it was as if I’d unlocked a door I didn’t know existed. I felt the power, red-hot, molten, spilling into me. The energy shot through me, and my whole body trembled. I focused my mind and lifted all of us—even the Irin—off the deck.
We floated there in the air for a few seconds. It felt like forever, but it was just long enough for the wave to pass under us and the boat to fall back into the water. It lurched to one side, then the other, barely remaining upright as water washed over the deck and out past the stern.
And then the wall of water was gone. As the boat shuddered and finally came to rest, I let go of every thread I’d been holding, and we collapsed onto the deck. Cam stood up first, untangling our limbs and gently lifting me to my feet. He then grabbed one side of me and Anna held the other. We stumbled to the back deck, where they lowered me onto a cushion.
“You did it,” Anna said softly.
“Saved our lives,” Trevor said.
“Your talent lit up the sky,” Cam said, awe in his voice.
I watched as they scurried around the deck and went down to the cabin, gathering blankets, looking for food and water, and setting up the emergency radio. By the time we tuned in, the wave had already hit the surrounding islands. We were told later that it was a fifteen-foot surge. That was enough to cause some serious damage, but only to the low-lying areas.
Cam sat on the deck next to me and held my hand. I wanted to close my eyes and give in to unconsciousness, but there was one more thing I had to do.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I croaked. “Something important.”
THEY MOVED the prisoners down into the cabin so they couldn’t hear us talking. Anna and Trevor helped fill in the missing pieces of my story. Apparently, they’d been thinking about it even as we fought the Irin. I had to tell the parts about Jack, and how he’d informed me the Irin hadn’t ever intended to kill the president, and that there was a traitor at Delcroix. Anna said this part made the most sense—she’d never understood how they got through the security at Initiation. Trevor said he hadn’t understood why they’d wanted to go after the president.
No one seemed particularly surprised about Ethan Hannigan.
I told them how my conversation with Barrett’s dad had changed everything for me. It was then that I had realized that Mr. Judan had enormous power as the head of the Watchers, and that the more dangerous the Irin became, the more his power grew. I still wondered if Mr. Alterir knew what Mr. Judan was doing, or if there were others, maybe at other schools or even on the Governing Council, who suspected. I didn’t think Mr. Judan had created the Irin; they’d been around a lot longer than he had. But if I was right, he had used every tool at his disposal to make them stronger—to solidify their hatred and build up their organization, thereby cementing his own power.
There was no turning them back now. The Irin wanted the Program destroyed; Jack himself was evidence of that. But the black streak running through the Program, poisoning its true purpose, could be changed. That I believed.
Throughout it all, Cam stayed quiet. Our hands were connected. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and wondered if he believed me.
“So, what does this mean?” he finally asked. “Are you through with the Program, Dancia? Is all this a lead-up to you telling me that you’ve had enough?”
I slid off the seat to sit next to him, a silver emergency blanket draped around my shoulders, and grabbed his other hand. “No,” I said firmly. “Never. Don’t you see? We’re going to do something about it—you and me and Trevor and Anna…” I looked around for corroboration, noting with relief that they were both nodding in agreement. “…And everyone else we can find.”
“But we’ll have to be smart about it,” Trevor said. “We aren’t sure who else knows about this, and it would be way too easy for us to ‘disappear’ just like old Ethan Hannigan.”
That was a sobering thought. I looked back at Cam. His battered and swollen face made his expression hard to read. “Are you”—I gulped—“are you with us?”
“He gave me a home,” Cam said. “I can’t forget that. But I’m not stupid. He said he needed someone he could trust, but in the end, he just wanted someone he could manipulate.” Cam’s deep brown eyes, so familiar and beloved, were filled with pain. I wished I could heal him with just my touch. “The problem is, I’m with him so much that I sometimes lose sight of what I believe, and what he’s planted in my head.” He turned to face me. “That was the worst part about D.C. Something about it felt wrong, but this voice in my head kept telling me it was right.
“That’s why I needed you so much when I got back, Dancia. You’re my compass. When I’m with you, I can clear away his voice and see through to my heart.” He sighed. “You’re right about this. I hate to believe it, but I know you’re right.”
I laid my head against his shoulder. “We’re going to come up with a plan to stop him,” I said fiercely.
“And when he figures out what we’re doing?” Cam asked. “What then?”
“We cross that bridge when we come to it,” Anna said crisply, her voice eerily reminiscent of her mother’s. With her T-shirt stained with blood, face sporting several impressive injuries—including a lengthy bruise across her forehead—and a determined set to her jaw, Anna looked like a true warrior. “Now, I, for one, want to know what happened to the rest of our friends on land. Can we put this conversation on hold while we call them?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. Cam nodded, and Trevor fiddled with the dials on the radio. It crackled for a moment, and then we heard a voice on the other end.
“Who’s there?” It was Mrs. Callias. She sounded exhausted, her voice hoarse.
Cam spoke into the receiver. “This is Cam, Mrs. Callias. And I’ve got Anna, Trevor, and Dancia with me.”
“Cam?” For a moment there was silence. Then Mrs. Callias said softly, “So she managed to do it. Thank God.” I heard a whoop go up in the background. I wasn’t sure how Esther maneuvered herself to be by the radio, but I thought the cheer sounded like it came from her.
“Report your status, Cam.” The voice on the other end turned smooth and deep. We all shuddered. It was Mr. Judan. “Is everyone all right? Remember, this line is not secure.”
“Minor injuries,” Cam said. “Potential hypothermia. We will need assistance when we come in.”
“Assistance?” Mr. Judan repeated.
“We have some guests,” Cam said, turning his back to us as if he didn’t want us to witness some internal struggle buffeting him as he spoke to his mentor. I squeezed his arm, hoping he could feel my support.
“Are you in any danger?” Mr. Judan asked.
I met Anna’s eyes, and from the tight positioning of her mouth, I knew I wasn’t the only one who worried that the answer to that question was yes.
“No. They are incapacitated.”
“All of them?”
Cam hesitated, glancing at me. “One will not be returning.”
In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about Jack. I looked at the water now moving calmly around us and felt a deep sense of regret. Not for what I’d done, but for the way the Irin had changed him.
“I see,” Mr. Judan said slowly.
“Can you tell us if everyone there is okay?” Anna asked. “Claire? Molly? David? What happened with the wave?”
“The wave passed well below us. Everyone here is safe. Reports are just coming in, but so far the damage is limited. No deaths, as of the last report we heard.” The four of us shared a smile of relief. “But there may be more wave activity. Stay on the water until you get the signal that it’s safe to return,” Mr. Judan continued.
“We’ll be waiting,” Cam said.
“Excellent.”
We hung up a few minutes later. Anna and Trevor managed to fix the boat’s engine with some help from Reva. I lay
resting on the cushions, with my head leaning against Cam. Everyone was quiet. I think we all feared what would happen when we got back on land, but I felt an odd sort of peace. From here on out, I would fight for the Program. It was part of me, and I was part of it.
Grandma had always said she wanted me to stand up for what I believed in. Well, I’d done it. And even though I could never tell her exactly what had happened, I could feel her smiling all the way from Danville, and I knew she was proud.
I HAVE been lucky to work with a number of incredibly talented, hardworking people who deserve their own name on the cover of a book. Special thanks to Ari Lewin for her stewardship of this story and dedication to making Dancia shine; to Abby Ranger for stepping in and watching over Delcroix; to Laura Schreiber for supernaturally good editing; and to Hallie Patterson for her tireless work in getting me where I needed to be and making it all look easy. To Emily Sylvan Kim: I couldn’t ask for a better agent and friend—you are my rock in this crazy world of publishing. To all the schools that have hosted me and trusted me to teach your students, I question your judgment, but I appreciate your support! Of course, the greatest hugs go to all the readers who e-mailed, Tweeted, texted, Facebooked, and, most astonishingly, came out to meet me—I adore you. Each and every one of you.
I am always indebted to Susan Seyfarth, who has never let me languish in the POD for long (though it is fun down there sometimes); and to my darling husband and resident knight in shining armor, who reads everything and makes my books so much better. Thanks also go to Nate Wood, tsunami expert from the USGS, who taught me about faults, tsunamis, and mudslides and can’t wait for me to write about the Pacific Northwest’s next natural disaster. I took some liberty with science, Nate, but the mistakes are all my own.
And finally, to Daphne—the first and best reader and fan. Thanks.
