by Belle Malory
He was angry. No, he was furious.
Furious because he’d let the sight of her, the sight of her, distract him enough to lose a fight. Ridiculous.
They’d never spoken more than two words to each other. He shouldn’t feel anything. But some part of him must have felt something. Otherwise Hoshu wouldn’t have taken him down so easily.
Phoenix fired off another round of shots to the dummy’s head, where the orangey-red ball took on the colors and shape of Hoshu’s face.
A door quietly opened and closed from behind him. Davaris stood off to the side, watching Phoenix as if entertained by it. Phoenix ignored his presence, hoping he would eventually go away.
No such luck.
“Tell me Hoshu is a liar,” Davaris called out. “Before I die of laughter.”
Phoenix didn’t respond, and would’ve liked to continue shooting to drown out any other wisecrack remarks Davaris planned to make, but his gun needed a recharge. Sighing, he emptied the cartridge and placed the battery on the charger.
“Ah come on, Phoenix. What’s your deal?”
The charger beeped, and Phoenix slid the battery back into the cartridge. “There’s no deal,” he said, shrugging. “We all have off days.”
“Phoenix Jorgensen have an off day? The most focused, lethal operative DOE credits themselves with?” A snort blew out from Davaris’s nostrils. “Bullshit. So who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
Since the clay dummy’s brains were splattered everywhere, Phoenix aimed for the stomach and fired. Shots whizzed across the range and their loud echoes bounced off the walls in sharp pings.
Davaris moved closer, the hints of a grin playing at his lips.
Up ahead, molten clay covered the floor. The dummy fell over from lack of a middle. Phoenix stopped firing and took a deep breath.
He didn’t want to talk about this. What he wanted was to keep shooting until the dummy was nothing more than ash.
“Bet my boy Hoshu didn’t pick up those skills overnight.”
Apparently Davaris wasn’t giving up.
Phoenix clicked the safety on his gun and let it drop to the table beside him. After tearing off his goggles, he turned to face his fellow keeper.
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“How about the truth?” Davaris tilted his head to the side, his grin fading. “Hey, you don’t look so good. What’s wrong, man?”
Phoenix slid his hands through his hair and looked up at the ceiling for the answers he needed. None were written, no pearls of wisdom or words of advice.
What the hell. He couldn’t talk to Fang, and unlike her, Davaris would listen with an open mind. “It’s Kennedy,” he admitted, meeting Davaris’s eyes.
“The new keeper?”
“Yeah.”
Davaris scratched his perfectly etched goatee. “You have a thing for her? I mean, I guess I always thought something was going on between you and Fang, but hey, she’s kinda cute. Redheads aren’t normally my type, but—”
“Davaris, stop.” Phoenix shook his head, he should’ve known better. “I don’t have a thing for her. Well, not yet anyway.”
“Not yet? That’s kind of cryptic, Nix. I don’t get it.”
Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how to explain everything without sounding crazy.
Impossible. He was going to sound like a lunatic no matter what. “Calaya told me that she and I, that we, would fall in love.”
It took a moment for the information to register with Davaris. “O-kay. So you’re listening to stargazers now.”
“Calaya wouldn’t give up until I did.”
Davaris nodded, crossing his arms and listening, waiting for him to finish. “So?” he finally asked. “Sorry, man. It seems like you want me to react in a big way, but I don’t get how this is a horrible thing.”
“Calaya said that the twelfth keeper would become the most important person in my life, above all else.”
“And?”
“Come on, Davaris. Don’t you get it? What she said can’t happen. I can’t allow it to happen.”
Anger drove through Phoenix’s veins all over again, this time more powerfully than before. It was a foreign feeling. He felt hot all over, couldn’t think straight, and paced the floor, unable to stay still.
His trainers would be disappointed. The lack of control on his emotions tore down years of ingrained discipline. Years spent learning to stay alert, stay focused, handling every situation logically and with a sound mind.
Phoenix felt like throwing his fist into the wall. Or Hoshu’s face.
His control was fading, and the possibility of losing it altogether scared the hell out of him.
“Phoenix, explain it to me.” Davaris’s voice was tinged with a serious edge. “Even if Calaya’s visions do come true, what’s so bad about falling for another keeper? No one would ever understand you the way another keeper would. The worse fate would be falling for a civilian.”
“Are you kidding me? There could be no worse fate than devoting my entire life, my entire existence, to one cause, only to throw everything I’ve worked for away.”
“You wouldn’t have to throw it away—”
“Yes, Davaris. That’s the point. I’ve given up too much for one person to mean more to me than…”
He didn’t finish, but they both knew what he would’ve said.
Mean more to me than being a keeper.
Davaris blinked. “I should’ve known. Duty.” He said that word as if it were married to Phoenix, shaking his head. “Nix, you’re too hardcore. You need to relax, lighten up some.”
“Relaxing is for those who aren’t responsible for the safety of a planet.”
Phoenix knew he placed a lot of importance on living up to the keeper title. But it was only because DOE had been molding and shaping him for so much longer than the rest of them. They made him aware, aware of what was out in the universe, and aware of how fragile a world really was.
“We’re all devoted, Nix,” Davaris said. “But you take it to a different level. Monk-like is what you are, and Olympus your temple.”
“That’s a little extreme.”
“But true. And besides, you shouldn’t listen to Calaya anyway. I heard she fell out of the cuckoo’s nest long ago.” Davaris clapped his shoulder
“You’re saying she’s crazy?” Phoenix asked. He’d never thought so. Eccentric maybe, but not crazy. “Professor Mason puts stock in her visions. I doubt he’d bring her to Level 3 if she were a lunatic.”
“Trust me, she’s certifiable. Why do you think she hasn’t been around lately?”
Phoenix thought about that. Davaris had a good point. Calaya hadn’t been haunting Level 3 lately, spouting her dreams and visions to everyone.
“And if you really stop and think about it, would you be giving the twelfth so much thought right now if Calaya had never said a word to you?”
Another good point.
Phoenix supposed he would’ve developed a natural curiosity towards Kennedy. After all, she was the long lost keeper. And then there was the feeling, the one he’d felt upon first meeting her. But other than that? No, he probably wouldn’t be thinking about her so much.
“If it were me, man, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Davaris said. “Go about your life as if nothing’s changed. Pretend Calaya never spoke to you.”
Davaris was right. Nothing had happened yet. Knowing he still had control helped too. For now, anyway.
Twenty-One
Professor Mason’s tour ended in his office. The place was large, extravagantly decked out with sofas and chairs situated across from a cherry wood desk, and opened to another floor length window on one side. Bookcases lined the walls, jam-packed with every subject of book, from Quantum Mechanics in the Geometry of Space-Time to more curious titles like, Astrology Explained. Clearly the professor was a man of many interests.
Kennedy sat on a sofa, waiting for two of the other keepers to join them.
She hadn’t spoken to Colton during the welcome dinner other than a brief introduction. Alanna, however, had made it a point to strike up a conversation with her that night over dessert.
At first glance, Kennedy remembered being taken aback by the tall islander girl. Round, bright blue eyes set within an oval face, contrasting against smooth, dark skin. She had never met someone with such unusual features, and hadn’t been able to stop herself from saying so.
In her thick Caribbean accent, Alanna chuckled and said, “Both me parents have eyes black as night. When I was born, my papa had a heart attack, seeing me blue eyes. Thought my mama had done the dirty on him.”
Made sense, she thought. Alanna’s eyes were unearthly, almost metallic in color. No one could blame her father, really. Anyone would’ve drawn the same conclusion.
Professor Mason cleared his throat, taking a seat beside her and lighting up a fat cigar. Kennedy found that strange because she’d spotted no smoking signs all over Level 3. Whatever. His business, not hers.
“Alanna, Colton, meet the newest member of your circle.” Through the side of his mouth not filled with cigar, Mason added, “Kennedy, you’ll be spending a lot of time with these two, so I suggest you get to know them.”
Circle. Well, that was an interesting word. Sorta reminded her of witchcraft and devilry, but in the close-knit clique sense. Okay. She’d go with it.
“We’re happy to have you.” Colton smiled warmly. His face was inviting, friendly. Clothes, crisply pressed, and sandy brown hair. Comb-over, but it suited him. Altogether, he looked like something out of the 1950s. Classic and clean-cut.
“Thank you,” she replied, smiling back.
Colton’s eyes were also a peculiar shade of blue. Light, airy, and they reminded Kennedy of the Florida sky on a clear day.
“We’ve been an incomplete circle for so long,” he said. “It’s nice to finally have a full team.”
“Yes, it’s so nice,” Alanna echoed.
“Glad to help.” Until you both realize I’m a fake anyway.
Mason set his cigar down in an ashtray on the table beside him. “Interesting fact,” he said to Kennedy. “The three of you descended from islands. Didn’t realize that ’til now.”
“Really?” Kennedy asked. The room wasn’t cold, but she shuddered.
“Guilty,” Alanna said. “Born on St. John.”
“Technically, I’m Canadian,” Colton explained. “But my father’s work relocated him to the Philippines before I was born.”
So we all hail from islands, Kennedy thought. What a nice coincidence. That should give them lots to talk about in their circlehood, or whatever it was.
“Now here’s the fun part,” Mason said. “Your specialty.”
Right. He was going to talk about the specializations Lexie mentioned. Kennedy leaned forward in her seat, ready to find out exactly what they had planned for her.
Here it comes, she thought, the mysterious question about to be answered.
“Alanna, do you mind grabbing Kennedy a glass of water?”
Kennedy held her hand up. “No, thanks. I’m not thirsty.”
Just tell me about the specialties already.
Alanna stood up anyway.
“Trust me,” Professor Mason said. “You’re going to want that water.”
Next to Mason’s desk was a fully stocked bar. Alanna walked to it, filled a glass, and brought it back to Kennedy. Expensive, crystal by the look of it.
“Thank you.”
Alanna nodded and smiled.
Kennedy sipped from the glass, hoping to appease the professor so he would hurry and continue telling her about the specializations.
“Water,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Water,” the professor repeated, “is your specialty.”
She stared at the glass, expecting it to mean more than what it was. “Sorry, buddy, but you lost me.”
“Kennedy, not many people know the true reasons keepers are so special. Most assume you’re a group of extraordinary warriors, here to defend Earth from outside entities.”
“Okay,” she said, digesting that. “Makes sense, considering that’s pretty much what I assumed too. So you’re saying they’re not,” she paused to clear her throat, “we’re not extraordinary warriors?”
“Keepers are that. And more. So much more.”
Her hands began to tremble anxiously. Kennedy set the water down on the coffee table and folded her hands into her lap.
Professor Mason’s tone of voice had a strange affect on her, building both excitement and terror at the same time. As much as she wanted him to spit it out and get to the point, she wasn’t completely sure that was what she wanted at all. The exit door looked appealing, and the thought of running out through it, refusing to listen to anything else Professor Mason had to say.
“The Nona were the first to tell us about keepers,” he began, sounding very lecturish. “Or, rather, ravalia, as they refer to theirs. They explained to us how most planets birth one spirit for each ecliptic constellation. The Nonan planet, smaller than ours, is home to four ravalia. Earth, on the other hand, is home to twelve keepers. One corresponding to each of our twelve ecliptic constellations.”
Kennedy heard all that said before in school and in documentaries. Admittedly, this time it sounded a little different now that everyone believed her to be a spirit representing the twelfth constellation. Sorta changed things, hearing it that way.
“Anyway,” the professor continued. “When we studied the Nona’s ravalia, we discovered that although these four entities looked and acted like normal Nona, they encompassed certain abilities that biologically, a normal Nonan could never achieve. Abilities that enabled them to protect their world in powerful ways.”
The word biologically stood out. The strange water sample, the one they’d tested her with back on Amelia Island, also came to mind. She couldn’t help but wonder if the fundamentals of what made her human were off somehow, if maybe that’s why they thought she was the twelfth keeper.
It could explain lots of things.
Like why her hair was closer to red than brown. Or why her family’s eyes were dark and hers were blue.
Her head snapped up, looking back and forth between Alanna and Colton. Both of their eyes were brilliant shades of blue.
They were all islanders. So many weird similarities.
She shrugged the chilling sensation away. So what if they were alike in a few ways? A few facets of their lives were bound to be similar. Laws of nature practically dictated it. Besides, she’d bet there were loads of differences too.
Like their skin. Alanna’s was as black as ebony. Colton’s was creamy, like a lily. Kennedy found herself somewhere in the middle, rosy and tanned.
See, one difference.
Kennedy let go of the strand of hair she’d been twisting around her finger, and said, “Professor, I fail to see what this has to do with water.”
“I’m getting there,” he said. “It’s hard to explain since the fundamental elements on the Nonan planet are different than ours. How should I put this?” He paused to puff his cigar. “How about I give you an example? Yes, an example. Got the perfect one, too. Have you ever heard of an undine, Kennedy?”
Swallowing, Kennedy shook her head no.
“Well, according to European mythology, an undine was considered a water spirit. They were also referred to as…elementals.” The professor gauged Kennedy’s reaction. She didn’t have one for him.
“Elementals could make things happen. Miraculous things like earthquakes, floods, gales, thunderstorms, and wildfires. Things that only Mother Nature herself should be able to make happen.
“The undine, in particular, could control water. Kennedy, the reason I’m telling you this is because an undine is the closest thing in Earth’s history to descr
ibe what you, Alanna, and Colton are.”
Silence filled the room, thick enough to be palpable.
Everyone stared at Kennedy, waiting for something, wanting something from her.
All they got was a sort of vacant stare. She heard what the professor said, had listened to his words, but they weren’t registering.
With a slight nod of Professor Mason’s head, he signaled Alanna. She moved from her seat and crouched beside Kennedy. Alanna took the glass of water from the table and held it up for Kennedy to see. Then tipped it over.
The glass fogged up as if it had been chilled in the refrigerator. Water spilled out, then froze in mid-air. Kennedy jumped back, clutching the leather of her chair.
The water was frozen solid.
One long stream of ice.
A moment later, Alanna turned the glass over and placed it into Kennedy’s unsteady hands. Kennedy ran her fingers over the cold crystal and traced over the stream of ice.
Holy mother of God. Is this really happening?
Colton lifted his hand, palming it over Kennedy’s fingers and the glass. Warmth radiated from his skin, and the water melted. It trickled its way back into the glass, transforming into liquid again. After a moment, the water grew so hot it boiled. Kennedy dropped the hot crystal glass, and its contents spilled across the rug.
Surprisingly, it didn’t break.
“Stars, Colton!” Alanna screeched, wiping frantically at her pant leg. “Dat water burned me, you fool.”
“I’m sorry, Lanna. Wasn’t expecting her to drop it.”
“’Course she would drop it. You made it too hot! You always make it too hot!”
Colton’s eyes grew remorseful. “I haven’t hurt you badly, have I?”
Alanna stopped glaring at him and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she muttered. “You know the water would never hurt me badly.”
Kennedy sat back in her seat, feeling her mouth form an O.
Alanna referred to water as if it were a living thing—as if it were a freaking person.
Each breath was harder to take than the last. The room was spinning too. Slowly at first, then more quickly, reminding her of last New Year’s Eve. She and Hunter had snuck a bottle of red wine from Jake’s liquor cabinet, and got themselves incredibly wasted. First time for her, getting drunk. They sat on lawn chairs out in Hunter’s backyard, staring up at the swirling night sky, stars angrily spinning up above.
