The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  The shock of the pain soon abated, and the people around her started to recover. The darting wasps circled Roselyn’s head again, and soon a flash of anxious tension swept over the group. Gripping the carafe, she ignored the pests and kept her eyes on Will.

  “You can hear me? I have to tell you while I still can. It’s my curse for you never to hear I love you from my lips. I never thought I would, but I do, and you should never doubt it. And if…”

  A wasp stung her hand, forcing her to jerk and toss the carafe. It sailed into the air, spiraling and twisting, coming down somewhere alongside the deep crevasse.

  “I love you, Roselyn,” Will cried, unable to get up, while she pressed her hand to her lips, catching the tears running down her face.

  Aoi managed to make it onto the edge, but the carafe rested quite a ways below her. Vern and Mary were the closest ones, though the pit’s width of several yards separated them. Already, Gloria tried to slither around to it. Goober stood passively some distance away as though he were about to fall asleep.

  “I think I can make it over!” Mary declared, backing up for a running start.

  “Are you crazy? I don’t think I could even jump that distance. You’ll fall!” Vern responded.

  “Then I guess you’ll have to save me,” she replied, beginning her sprint.

  Mary motored forward, pushing off a tall slab and sailing over the abyss. Gravity took hold of her, and she started to fall, but she smacked into the far side, her arms clutching the edge. The carafe was so close, and she stretched for it with her middle finger, just tapping it. Gloria climbed a nearby boulder, towering over her.

  “Mary, are you OK?” Vern gasped.

  “I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” Gloria snarled, cocking her hand back to sling toxins at her.

  “You’ll have to wait a little longer,” Mary said, clutching the carafe and slipping back over the edge. Gloria dropped forward and everyone raced for the edge to watch her fall.

  “Mary!” Mira shouted.

  Vern prepared to dive after her, but before he could leave the edge, Mary reemerged, walking up the vertical wall. Her hands were fixed at her side, and she carefully and slowly moved upward.

  “I’m so glad you got her,” Will said to Vern, relieved.

  “It’s not me,” Vern shrugged.

  Mary approached the top, the carafe held tightly between her palms. Just as Vern could, she stuck herself to the wall until she could step over onto the surface. Jeremy raced at her, but she opened her mouth and a strong gust of air sent him tumbling back.

  “That’s my power,” Will recognized, “but better!”

  A few of Jeremy’s remaining flies swarmed around her, but they swiftly changed direction and started to attack Jeremy. He yelped and squealed at each painful sting.

  “Can you do anything about Goober?” Aoi implored. The tubby boy was still crawling toward them. He snuck around the rocks, hiding deftly one moment and then tripping over his feet and spilling into the open the next. The fissure had ceased to widen, but the rocks around them appeared more fragile than ever.

  “I don’t think so. It’s like I can use all of your gifts because I can feel them, but he’s got no feeling at all.”

  “Soon it’ll be you with no feeling!” Gloria shouted, lunging at her from around a rock. But Mary laughed as Gloria caught her by the arms and slathered the slime over her skin. She shook her head condescendingly.

  “That was the lamest threat yet. You’ve really got to do better,” Mary yawned. “Oh yeah, and you can’t hurt me with your gift. I’m Aoi now. Maybe after you give up I’ll go and toss some rocks around.”

  Hearing her name and seeing Mary do what only she could do made Aoi watch the situation intently. But the way Mary spoke about her felt strange. She didn’t know what to make of it, but it wasn’t a compliment, whatever it was.

  “If I can’t hurt you with my gift…” Gloria began, swinging her elbow into Mary’s face and grabbing the carafe as she fell back. “Seems I know Aoi better than you do.”

  Mary landed against the rock and groaned. The flash of insight hit Gloria and her eyes, stunned, drifted off for a moment. A furtive smirk took to her face and she brought a menacing glare against Mary’s squeamish expression of dread.

  “Please, don’t,” Mary begged.

  “Please don’t what?” Aoi asked, standing several platforms above them, but Gloria focused her eyes on Mary.

  “You little home wrecker,” she smiled. “And what, nobody knows?”

  Only then did she start to look around at the others scattered around the area. She raised the carafe up to them and opened her mouth to speak, but then she became distracted and stopped cold. The sores in her fingertips and palms through which the fluid bled closed up. The waste disappeared completely. In fact, there was nothing green at all.

  Astonished, she beheld her hands and clutched at the carafe’s studded exterior. She pricked her finger on the sharp edge and became the picture of joy when a tiny drop of red blood dripped out. Giddy, she hopped up and down, laughing.

  “This is the happiest day of my life!” she cheered.

  Settling down, her smile faded away and she appeared altogether more uncomfortable. She put her dried hand to her chest and lowered her head. A fierce cough came a moment later, releasing a puff of green smoke into the air. Heartbroken, she watched it float in the air in front of her. She coughed again until each exhalation carried away more of the smoke. It exited through her ears and nose, rising right in front of her eyes. Furious, she screamed and wept.

  “No, no, no!” she wailed.

  Mira stepped forward, moving just behind Mary, who had crawled back.

  “Gloria, the carafe isn’t going to make you happy. It’s not going to free you from your burdens or change you into something other than what you are. Please give it back to us. We can take it and make things better for you and everyone else. That’s how the carafe can help you, not by keeping it for yourself.”

  But Gloria, her face as red as her hair, appeared to have lost all self-control.

  “Never! If you want it, you will never have it! I’ll die before I give it to you!”

  Aoi was impressed with how calm Mira remained. She thought how angry she would’ve gotten over Gloria’s refusal, but Mira was full of patience and grace.

  “Why, Gloria, why? If you give the carafe to us, you’ll have done more to change the course of history than most people could dream of. Don’t you want to have that recognition?”

  As Mira spoke, Aoi noticed her hair start to turn gray. It happened so gradually she had to rub her eyes to make sure. But when she glanced at her own hands, they appeared old and wrinkled. Startled, she cried out.

  “Mira, your hair!”

  Then everyone noticed it, and they looked at each other’s faces, which had been dragged through a lifetime. From Roselyn’s blonde curls to Gloria’s red hair to Vern’s black strands, they had all gone gray. Some of them hunched a bit, and a few struggled to keep their balance.

  The only one who had not changed was Goober, who had been standing off to the side as the carafe changed hands. But contrary to how it seemed, he had not done so passively. Now for Mira and her friends, and Jeremy and Gloria too, the unraveling of the body had brought them to the brink of death.

  Mira pulled her hair in front of her eyes and gasped at its frail, colorless state. Her face had gone pale, both from the drastic change and the astonishment of it. Her mouth hung open, and she looked at the others, bewildered.

  Aoi’s heart started to race. If the twin men had been right, this would be a problem only she could fix. But she had no idea how and she feared it was already too late. Her body was falling apart from the insides, and a feeling of fatigue and sickness ravaged her.

  “Aoi, you have to do something!” Will shouted.

  “I know, but I don’t know what do to!” she replied.

  She tried to make herself so calm and peaceful, like the rancher had ta
ught her, but it didn’t stop that feeling of decay from growing inside of her. If she couldn’t remedy her own body, how was she supposed to reach out to everyone’s?

  “Gloria, you have to give Aoi the carafe!” Mira implored.

  “What? No!” she rejected.

  “She’s the only one who can save us. Aoi’s a Special,” Mira argued, but Gloria shook her head, tightening her grip. The calls started coming from everywhere.

  “You have to!” Vern shouted.

  “Quickly!” Will begged, withered and frail. He lost his balance and fell onto the rock. The sound of a loud crack could only mean a broken bone. Chucky screamed from around the corner. Aoi watched Goober, the terrifying little boy. She would have to overpower him somehow.

  “I’m sorry, Gloria. Just give it to her!” Mary called.

  “You’ll kill us all!” Jeremy hollered above the rest. “And it’ll be for nothing!”

  Gloria started to fret, shaken by the constant and desperate shouts. The green smoke continued to pour out of her with each breath. Each of them appeared older and older by the minute. There was only one way it could all end.

  “Fine,” she spat, raising her arm and the carafe. In her weakened state, her throw was lame, but it made it to the ground near Aoi, who rushed forward along the rock to pick it up. Wrapping her fingers around the diamond shard, Aoi too learned of Mary’s intentions with Vern. It startled her, but she couldn’t let it distract her from the immediate peril they faced. Squeezing her fingers together, she waited for it to save them.

  “Hurry up, Aoi!” Vern yelled, leaning against a boulder.

  “I’m trying. It’s not doing anything!” she cried.

  She lowered her eyes to Mira, who offered the patience and support of a true friend.

  “It’s not the carafe that has to do it. It’s you,” she whispered.

  Unsure and afraid, she set her eyes upon Goober, who hadn’t the least bit of doubt on his face. She imagined herself fighting him, picturing everything falling apart coming back to life. Focusing and concentrating, she strained on the image of a winter winding back into spring. All the while she could still feel herself dying. It felt like she was on the brink of collapsing into dust, just like Neeko had.

  The memories of the two bald men in the corporeal cave wafted to the forefront of her mind. One of them had the power to create life where none existed, and it was foolish for her to emulate it. They had told her she could reach out and touch the reactions, which were now aging them beyond recognition. Changing them couldn’t be accomplished by fighting, they told her. That must mean she would have to mold them with a kind of soft power.

  A long time ago, a man of great stature had taught her to do that by placing her on a straw bridge. She referred to him as the rancher, and he had subtly and patiently transformed her. Now her heart ached to think of him, the meaning weighing heavily in her chest like a piece of ripe fruit. Staring out at the agonizing faces of her friends, the crumbling stone slabs, and the boy who shaved years from their lives every instant, she watched them with the same tranquility as the thick clouds drifting over a dry riverbed.

  It felt like she stood on that same straw bridge, smoothing away the ruffled thoughts and worries. Perhaps they would die, and that would have to be fine. There can be no escape from the end, only delay. Giving her mind a rest from the mounting danger, a feeling of transparency swept over her, as though the current of time, event, and life could pass through her freely. They were there then, those reactions secretly reinventing everything around them, and a steady, relaxed breath echoed against them.

  Losing herself in a trance-like fascination, she exhaled her influence into the chaotic environment. All around them, air molecules that were falling apart and separating collided and fused together in radiant hues of blues and oranges. The cracking stone bonded, and the signs of age gradually dissolved.

  “It feels like everything,” she whispered.

  The whirlwind flow of electrons and protons, oxygen and hydrogen, and carbohydrates and proteins lifted Aoi off the ground. Her hair levitated, and the scattering particles turned her eyes blue. She felt she had disappeared, unable to think, unable to move for the way she abandoned herself for the remote reactions.

  Mira smiled at her, her lips free of their wrinkles and her hair color restored. Will climbed to his feet, his bones in perfect condition, and the rest of those present witnessed her incredible act. Their mouths hung open, and they reached out to touch the strange chemical process taking place in the air.

  A thought occurred to Aoi then. What if she maintained her influence too long, and everyone became younger than they were supposed to be? She looked at Vern, trying to tell if his face was just how she remembered it, when her heart rate shot up, the fusions in the air vanished, and Aoi fell to the ground and toppled back onto her behind. She kept her eyes open as though she’d been scared to death, and the shock of it all froze her in place for a moment.

  “Aoi, you did it!” Mira exclaimed. Chucky and Knoll emerged from around the corner and Vern jumped over the shrunken chasm. Everyone appeared exactly as they had before.

  Will helped Aoi to her feet, and they all followed her gaze to the tanned, pudgy boy further down the hillside. Waiting to see what he would do next, they tensed up and fidgeted. But Goober stared at them blankly, conveying neither anger nor disappointment. He might’ve only been poking at a toad with a stick and suddenly lost interest.

  Considering what he had done to Neeko, Aoi had no intention of going anywhere near him, regardless of her recent feat. And if she refused to, she was sure no one else would either. Innocently and without a word, Goober turned himself around and took a few awkward steps down the hill. He promptly tripped onto his side and skidded several yards amongst loose gravel. On all fours, he crawled and rolled, never looking back. His exit brought a great deal of relief to almost everyone.

  “Oh no!” Gloria goaded, staring at Mary. “That can’t be the end. We’ve so much to talk about.”

  Aoi knew exactly what she referred to, and the simple allusion to it destroyed any of the peace she had retained. Her heart rate and breathing quickened, and that familiar yet detested flush of anger gushed throughout her.

  “Shut up!” Aoi snapped, thinking it better to hold onto what shred of dignity she could and resolve it in private. Jeremy joined Gloria by her side, the two of them standing at odds with Mira, Aoi, and everyone else.

  “So now you’re willing to cover it up too?” Gloria asked, showing her surprise by putting her dripping hand to her cheek. “But some things can’t stay covered up forever. You have to choose, Mary. Either you tell them or I will.”

  She had a devilish smile, reveling in the new agony she inflicted. Mary’s pained face went pale. She slunk back a step, but there was nowhere to hide.

  “This is turning out to be a great day after all! What a great thing that carafe is. It shows you so much. But then some of you already know, don’t you? Your best friend does, but she’s not saying anything. Will does too, and it stabs him in the heart,” Gloria gloated.

  “What is it?” Vern asked, curious.

  Gloria’s mouth dropped open to gasp quickly, seizing on his words.

  “Why don’t you tell him, Mary? I’m not going to have to count back from five, am I?” she prodded.

  “I…‌I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mary mumbled.

  Turning to Vern and overflowing with joy, she proceeded to spill Mary’s secret.

  “Vern, Mary loves you, and she has for a very long time. She’ll stop at nothing to have you, and that includes finding a way to get rid of Aoi.”

  “What? I would never do anything to Aoi!” Mary protested as those near her took a step away. “It’s a lie. She’s lying!”

  Mary had become embarrassed, her face flushing red. Aoi felt embarrassed and betrayed too. She’d shut out the carafe’s insight before she’d learned Mary intended to harm her. It was difficult to know who to be more angry at,
Gloria or Mary.

  “But you did,” Gloria drilled, laughing at Mary. “You stood idly by as Aoi suffered what could’ve been a mortal blow during the battle of Darmen. You watched her get hit.”

  Aoi couldn’t remember exactly when or what hit she referred to, and so all of those cuts opened anew. As hard as she struggled against it, she gave in and looked at Mary. The carafe showed her exactly what she meant, and she realized all of Gloria’s accusations were true.

  “The misery you spread will do nothing to heal your own,” Mira said, her arms crossed. “Do you intend to fight us?”

  “No, no,” Gloria scoffed. “I’ll go and work on proving you wrong about that. Right now, I feel great! Come on, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy cast a long look back at them before following Gloria down the hillside. They descended at a sharp angle, leading them as far away from Goober as possible. Still, they had no supplies of any kind.

  “Bye, Neeko,” Gloria waved to the clump of ash on the ground. No one made any attempt to chase them.

  “Aoi, listen,” Mary begged her, but she quickly turned away and started straight down. “Vern, please,” but he too ignored her and hopped off a rock. Soon the entire group headed away from her. The mountain chain at her back, she peered out across the flat, dreary expanse ahead. That was their path, through a never-ending stretch of cold sand.

  Chapter 6: The Southern Fingers of the Frozen Desert

  Lugging themselves through their first day in the sand, the group of eight struggled to the top of a steep dune. The sand was hard, held together by chunks of ice layered beneath the surface. Though the air didn’t have the same frosty bite as the mountains, it was still cold and required every bit of protection possible.

  One by one, they trudged to the top, stopping to rest and lending a hand to those behind. From the dune’s peak, they could see for miles in every direction. Thick, gray clouds barreled overhead, looking like a mirror image of the sprawling rolls of sandy ice. Mary pushed Chucky over the edge. He continued to attend to Knoll, who had recovered from his traumatic mismanagement with impressive resilience. They had him wrapped tight to keep out the cold, and he didn’t seem at all troubled by it, perhaps because of the carafe strengthening him and tugging him to the northwest.