If it wasn’t the doorknob that was busted, though, what else could it be? Were the hinges rusted? The door was exposed to the elements.
As he stood there wondering what was wrong with the door, Taemon felt his mind itching to wander into that door and figure it out. He hadn’t tried mind wandering in a long time — not since the sea cave. But almost without realizing it, his body relaxed and his mind traveled out toward the door.
And saw inside it.
Saw that the doorknob was a fake.
Saw inside the wood, which concealed a layer of thick steel.
Saw what was really keeping the door closed.
Deep inside the heart of the door was a psi lock — the most complicated psi lock he’d ever seen. If he studied it long enough, he might be able to open it. Automatically, he reached out with psi to move one of the lock’s pins.
Be it so!
But nothing happened. He almost laughed at himself. What had he expected? That just because he could still do the mind-wandering thing he’d be able to use psi, too?
Besides, it was better this way, Taemon told himself. Without psi, mind wandering was pretty harmless. Useless, even. But still weird.
Weirder yet — what was an old psi door doing in a powerless colony?
One month had passed since Taemon became Drigg’s apprentice, and the byrider’s engine was still in pieces. They’d fixed the body — that had been easy. Getting the corn-fueled engine to work was a different story. It seemed that every time he and the tinker got one part of the engine to work, a different part didn’t work anymore. Taemon had lost track of how many times he had delivered and retrieved parts from the smithy’s shop. And today he was headed there again.
The weather had warmed up, and even though the air felt a little nippy, people were happy to be outdoors.
“Thayer! Oh, Thayer!”
Taemon cringed, then turned around to see Challis. She had moved her loom to her front porch and was waving him over. “You’ll come have a cup of tea with Auntie Challis. You promised.”
Better just get this over with. He headed across the street.
Once Taemon was there, Challis was unusually quiet. She stared at him with a vacant look. This woman was more loopy than knots.
“Um, that’s a nice scarf you’re weaving,” said Taemon.
“Wait until you’ve seen the ones I’ll make next week. You sat here and watched my loom for me while I got us each a mug of tea.” She went inside.
Sat? Watched? That was another annoying thing about Challis. She was always using the wrong verb tenses. He wondered what kind of tea she was making.
He studied the cloth on her loom and found it mesmerizing. He followed one thread, a bright green strand, as it looped and zigzagged through the weave. Was is part of a pattern? If so, he couldn’t tell what it was yet.
Challis came out with two earthenware mugs. He recognized them as being made by Amma’s family. Taemon took the one she handed to him, lifted it up, and sniffed. The mug felt warm, and the tea smelled citrusy sweet.
Taemon hesitated. Some things were still hard for him to get used to. Putting your mouth on someone else’s cup? It was hard enough to put his mouth on his own cup even when he knew no one else ever used it. But he knew it was bad manners to pour liquid into his mouth. He examined the cup’s rim. Was it clean? Probably not. No one had any psi to clean things the real way.
“Um, very nice,” said Taemon. “Thanks.” He stared at the cup. He licked his dry lips but couldn’t bring himself to drink.
Challis put a hand on Taemon’s shoulder. She had a faraway look in her eyes again. “Renda,” she said.
The sound of Mam’s name shocked him. “You knew my mother?”
Challis smiled. “Your mother, my sister. Did you know your eyebrows look exactly like our father’s? His name was Thayer.”
She wasn’t just off her rocker. She was off her planet. “Mam’s sister died when she was four.”
“Mm-hmm. Sometimes they say that so as to avoid the upsetting of reputations. You know our family, direct descendants of Nathan and all. Couldn’t have imbeciles in the family tree, now could we?”
Taemon thought about that. He wondered whether his parents would have told everyone that he died if his disability hadn’t been revealed in such a public way.
“Now then. You and I had a little chat. Right here.” Challis patted one of two cushioned rockers and then sat down in the other. The chair’s cushion was embroidered with flowers.
Taemon sat down in the flower chair. Not because he wanted to chat, but because he needed to think about this. Was Challis telling the truth? How could he know? She was right about his mother’s name and the family descending from Nathan. Mam never talked much about her parents, and so he had no way of knowing if his grandfather’s name had been Thayer. But he supposed such information wasn’t exactly secret. Did Challis have a contact in the city who was feeding her information?
“I need to explain some things.” Challis sipped her tea. “You’ll be confused. I get beginnings mixed up with endings sometimes.”
“I’m already confused. So start wherever you like.”
“I came to the colony as a young child. Raised by a family that adopted me. The priests said I didn’t have any psi, but that wasn’t exactly true.”
“You do? You did?”
Challis tsked. “Watch those verb tenses, son. You’ll confuse people that way. Yes, I have psi. But not the way they see it.”
Taemon shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Challis leaned forward in her chair. “Psionic power can take a number of forms, each one a scientifically inexplicable transfer of energy or information.”
Strangely, Challis’s voice took on a certain authority. Taemon had no doubt that at this moment, she knew exactly what she was talking about. Goose bumps dotted his arms.
“Psychokinesis. Telepathy. Remote viewing. Clairvoyance. Psychometry. Precognition.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Those are the six known forms of psi. Some scholars theorize that there may be a seventh.”
“Forms of psi? I’m not following you.”
“Psychokinesis, that’s what everyone thinks of as psi. The ability to influence physical objects with your mind. Moving things, shaping things without touching them.”
“Right. That’s what psi is.”
“Wrong. That is the most common way that psionic ability manifests itself. It’s what all the psi wielders use in the city. But there are other, rarer, forms of psi. Anyone with any of the other powers is thought to be dangerous. What’s the phrase? A loose cannoli?”
“I think you mean a loose cannon.”
“Exactly. I didn’t have psychokinesis, but I had other forms of psi. Remote viewing, precognition. They didn’t know what to do with me. One of the priests even thought I might be the True Son.” She chuckled. “I went through all kinds of tests to see what I could do. When they found out I couldn’t do what they wanted, they sent me here. I was four years old. I was lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“They could just as easily have killed me. Someone whose powers are different is, well, an unknown factor. Very dangerous. A loose candle.”
Skies, all this was actually making sense. She had to be telling the truth. There was no possible way she could have made all this up. But Taemon was having a hard time sorting it all out. “Precognition? That would be . . . knowing something before it happened?”
Challis nodded. “You’d be surprised at how confusing that is. I learn things that I haven’t remembered yet. I’ll remember things I haven’t forgotten yet. Then I forget things that I haven’t learned yet.”
That explained why Challis couldn’t keep her verb tenses straight.
She smiled at him, and it reminded him of Mam. Why hadn’t he ever noticed that before? “You were a loose cannibal, too,” she said. “Before you quit your psi, anyway.”
“Quit? Is that what I did?”
She nodded.
“You quit one kind of psi and kept the other.”
“I only had the regular kind. What’d you call it?” Taemon frowned. “Psychokinesis.”
Challis shook her finger in Taemon’s direction. “Which boy will figure out how to drive the unisphere? Which boy found oxygen atoms in the water inside the sea cave? Who sees the psi door at Amma’s house? Psychokinesis doesn’t do that; clairvoyance does. Clairvoyance, the ability to perceive things without using the five senses. Very rare. Unheard of, really.”
Skies above! That mind-wandering thing had a name. No wonder Da wanted to make sure Taemon never used mind wandering. It might have gotten him killed if anyone knew what he had been able to do. “Wait, how do you know about that? I never told anyone!”
Challis smiled. “Remote viewing? It means seeing things that happen far away. Don’t you think I’d keep an eye on my nephews?”
The full impact of what Challis was saying hit him like a wall of flame. If Challis had been watching him over the years, that meant the thing about him being a Knife was probably true. Why hadn’t his parents ever told him? A person’s whole identity was wrapped up in his birth sign. Who was Taemon if he wasn’t One Quake? If he was Thirteen Knife, the unluckiest sign of all?
If Challis knew about his birth sign and the unisphere and the sea cave, then she probably knew about the time he’d almost killed Yens. Another thought struck him: Had it been her voice he’d heard in his head those times? It had sounded nothing like her speaking voice, but then maybe speaking voices were different than mental voices. She had told him he could kill Yens. Yens, her own nephew! Worse yet, he’d almost done it! Skies, he couldn’t decide which of them was the bigger loon!
“When virtue is missing, power must be separated from knowledge,” Challis said.
Taemon had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, Challis kept talking.
“That’s one answer,” she said. “But you have your own questions. So ask.”
He didn’t want to talk about what he’d done to Yens. Or about his birth sign or the mind wandering that made him so dangerous. Instead, he asked the question that until recently had been dominating his thoughts. “Why is there a psi door at Amma’s house?”
“Yes, that is the perfect question.” She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. “And here she is right now to answer you.”
A few silent seconds passed as Taemon looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”
Opening her eyes, Challis sat up and looked this way and that. “She’s late. The ocean is always on time. Hasn’t she heard of the tides?”
“Do you mean Amma?” Taemon asked. “Did you ask her to come?”
“I didn’t have to ask her. I saw her come. She should be here by now. Timing is everything.” Challis squirmed in her seat.
“It’s okay,” said Taemon. “I’m sure she’s on her way.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he spotted Amma walking toward them.
“There you are,” she said to Taemon. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Taemon glanced at Challis, who looked relieved. “Challis and I have been having a very interesting chat,” he began.
“Do you finally believe that she’s your aunt?” Amma asked before Taemon could fill her in.
Taemon’s jaw dropped. “How did you —? Did she —?” He glanced between Amma and Challis.
Amma smiled at him. “I’ll explain everything on the way to my place. You’re to have dinner with us tonight. Mam and Da are expecting you.”
He had about a million questions, but only one made it past his mouth: “Will there be cucumbers?”
Amma laughed. “No cucumbers. I promise.”
It was hard not to be nervous about eating dinner with the Parvel family. Taemon had met Amma’s parents once or twice — the colony wasn’t that big — but this was the first time he’d have a real conversation with them. And family meals were never his strong suit.
He stared down at the big chunks of vegetables and beef in his bowl. It smelled delicious. Hearty and simple. And not one cucumber in sight. Taemon picked up his spoon, then put it down again. Was he supposed to use the fork or the spoon for stew? The eating tools were familiar to him by now, but psiless table manners were still a bit of a mystery. He took a chance and grabbed the spoon again and scooped a hunk of potato into his mouth. It was on the big side, and some of the broth trickled down his chin. Where was that napkin?
Amma stifled a giggle. “Don’t worry, Taemon. As long as everyone’s full after the meal, Mam’s happy.”
Taemon found himself relaxing as the meal went on. So far, no one had mentioned the old door. Maybe Challis was wrong about why Amma had been looking for him. Maybe this was just to be a friendly evening spent with her and her family.
“That was incredible, Mrs. Parvel. Thank you,” Taemon said when he had finished. He helped clear the table and offered to help wash the dishes, but Mrs. Parvel wouldn’t hear of it.
“Let’s sit down and chat about the door,” said Amma’s da, leading Taemon into the sitting room.
Amma went ahead of them to rearrange the books, papers, and art supplies so they could sit comfortably.
“I have to admit,” Mr. Parvel said, “I wasn’t pleased when Challis came to me and told me I needed to show you what is behind our psi door. But Challis was pretty insistent, and Amma says you’re trustworthy. It’s just that, well, you having lived so long in the city, that makes me nervous.”
So it was a psi door, and Amma’s family knew it. Taemon was both curious and confused. What could the colony possibly need to keep behind such a powerful door? And how did Mr. Parvel expect to show Taemon what was behind a psi door when no one had the psi to open it? Had Challis misled them, made them think he still had the useful type of psi?
Amma huffed. “Da, you can’t hold that against him.”
“I know how you feel about it, Amma, but we have to be so careful. If the wrong people found out about the door, well, it would be devastating.” Mr. Parvel looked Taemon in the eye. “I have to know for certain, son. Will you stand behind the colony no matter what? Can I trust you absolutely?”
Taemon held Mr. Parvel’s gaze. “If you’re asking me if I would betray the colony, the answer is no. Never.”
A moment passed in which Mr. Parvel looked straight at Taemon. Now was not the time to look away or flinch. He held steady without so much as a blink.
“All right, then. If Challis says you need to see this, then let’s get to it.” Mr. Parvel walked out of the room. Taemon looked at Amma, and she gestured for him to follow her da. Amma walked behind him.
He followed Amma’s da out the front door and around to the back of the house. Mr. Parvel glanced about to see if anyone was nearby, and Taemon found himself doing the same. When he looked back at the door, it was open.
“Wait, how did you . . . ?” Taemon rubbed his temples. So much to take in. “You have psi?”
Amma nodded. “My whole family does. But we only have authority to use it to protect the library. My brothers and I, we all learned psi when we were little, and on our thirteenth birthday, we take the vow and dedicate our psi to protecting the library.”
“The what?” Taemon asked.
Mr. Parvel smiled and gestured forward with a nod. “Now I’ll show you where it leads.”
As they passed through the door, Taemon could see from the inside just how strong the door was. Thick metal frames melded into incredibly solid rock. Not even psi could pull this door off its hinges. No one was getting through this door without knowing the lock’s sequence. He followed Mr. Parvel through a hallway that narrowed, and the light grew dimmer. When they stepped into a large room, Amma switched on a light.
Books. Shelves and shelves. Stacks and stacks. Thick, thin, tall, short — Taemon didn’t think this many books still existed. Was this a school of some kind? He walked toward a cart that held even more books and examined them.
Owls: A Guide to Their Behavior and Biology
>
Secrets of a Master Violinmaker
The Complete Book of Plant Propagation
Effects of Education on Labor Supply
Taemon stood amazed at the wealth of knowledge in one room.
He picked up Diseases of the Inner Ear and thumbed through it. Diagrams, sketches, explanations, causes of dizziness, it was all there. Absolutely astonishing. He had no idea that the inside of his ear was such a complicated system. Taemon knew that if he studied this book for a few days, he’d be able to use his psi to cure most earaches. If he had psi, that was.
“So many books,” Taemon whispered. Even though he had permission to be there, he couldn’t help feeling that he was doing something illegal. In the city, he’d never be allowed to see books like these. They would be locked up in the safe at the healers’ guild.
He picked up another book. How Glass Is Made. He scanned a few pages. With this, he could make windows, windshields, bottles — if he had psi.
Taemon’s emotions were an odd combination. The thought of all this knowledge in one place, the things that he could do once he understood how things worked, the wealth this room held — all that was sweet. Then came the bitter realization that without psi, the knowledge was inert. Still interesting, but not something he could act on. It was sad, in a way. So much understanding in a place where no one could do anything with it.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Amma whispered.
“All these books,” said Taemon. “What are they for?”
“There’s a word for a room like this. It’s called a library.” Amma looked around and smiled.
“Library,” Taemon repeated, the word dancing across his tongue. “But why does it have to be secret? Since nobody in the colony has psi, why keep the books hidden away?”
“Do you know what an atom is?” Mr. Parvel asked.
“No,” Taemon said. But the word sounded familiar. Hadn’t Challis said something about atoms — atoms he’d taken from the water?
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