by Trisha Leigh
When the real world spins into focus, Lucas has already picked up Pax’s free hand, holding it loosely. At least we agree on not wasting any time.
“How do we do this with him asleep?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, thinking. We have no idea what we’re doing, really, and it’s a miracle we’ve figured out this much. Can we follow an unconscious Pax? Is it enough to imagine the words Pax’s sinum and not be able to picture it?
There’s no way to know, but ever since the autumn, when a few shouted words in my head led to the Wardens disposing of Mrs. Morgan, I’ve learned not to underestimate the power of the brain. Particularly ours, formed by the combination of two species who never should have met.
“I don’t know. How about we both think about wanting to get to Pax’s alcove?”
“We can try pulling and pushing some power through our hands, too. It might make us more connected, and since he’s not aware, his consciousness is probably in the hive.”
As many times as I’ve entered the strange tunnels that connect the minds of all Others, the concept as a whole eludes me. Part of us lives there, like the way pieces of our brains that tell us to breathe or to smile when we’re happy. When we’re sleeping, the part of my mind that’s still aware curls up in that sinum. But how we’re able to force our minds to kind of collapse, to fold in on reality enough to find our way there on purpose—that makes no sense.
So grabbing hands, pushing and pulling energy, and focusing on silent words seems to be as good a plan as any. If it doesn’t work, maybe I can try to pick up his scent or something. Like Wolf can do with a rabbit.
The idea stretches my mouth into a grin, which makes Lucas tip his head like Wolf does while trying to puzzle out my words, and the whole thing gives me a fit of giggles. I shake my head, calming down and refusing to explain such a ridiculous train of thought. “It’s nothing. I’m nervous, I think. Let’s give it a try.”
On one side, Lucas’s familiar touch chills my palm, reaching into the soft spaces between my fingers. Pax’s hand lies limp, a cooler temperature than mine but not as noticeable, and I squeeze it tight as though holding on to his body will somehow drag his mind along for the ride.
I blow out a breath, focusing on Pax as best as I can, letting the heat in my middle climb upward, drip down my arms, and enter my hands. I open up, imagining my body as the string between Lucas’s and my cup phones last autumn, and feel his power slide in beneath my fingernails, swirl through me until the scent of pine wriggles into my nose and there’s a strange hot-cold combination flowing through my blood. The smell of sweet jasmine tinges the back of my tongue, but I’m not sure we’re doing something right until a faint hint of apples and cinnamon flickers, like kindling trying to catch in a brand new fire. Shock wants to force open my eyes but I resist, keeping my concentration. It’s enough that Pax is in there, that he feels us somehow.
This time when the hive appears, there isn’t a wall made of ice. We’re in a drab dirt corridor, the same as every one I’ve visited before, and countless recesses line the walls. The first one sits empty, and so does the next, and the next. Lucas checks the opposite side, both of us coming up empty. Hot frustration singes the air around me. It didn’t work. Pax isn’t here.
“Now what?” Lucas looks at me expectantly.
If his idea fountain has run dry, this is one bad situation. My nerves heighten every minute we’re standing in the open, easy to spot if an Other happens by, but there isn’t another option. We need to figure out how to find Pax—and fast.
“Let me think a minute.”
I close my eyes in the silence. We’re someplace new, not my alcove, not Lucas’s, so logic would suggest Pax brought us at least to the correct vicinity. Without vision, the rest of my senses heighten. The scent of wet earth floats beneath my nose, reminding me of Zakej when he pretended to be Deshi in an attempt to flush Lucas and me out in Danbury. The air, thick with condensation, falls damp on my skin. My ears hear nothing at all. The hive throbs with a pervasive silence akin to a snow-covered winter morning.
Then I smell it again, like I did in the cabin. Fresh apples. Spicy cinnamon. Not strong, barely there under the reek of dirt, but accounted for all the same. “He’s here. Pax. I smell him.”
Lucas doesn’t question me, but closes his own eyes and breathes in deep. “The apples. I smell it, too.”
It made me laugh before, thinking that we could sniff Pax out like Wolf ferrets out food, but now it doesn’t strike me as funny. With my eyes closed, I turn in a slow circle, stopping when the Pax’s unique cologne hits me the strongest. “Let’s try this way.”
We don’t find him in any of the sinums in the corridor. Lucas and I pick two more turns, holding brief, whispered discussions and sniffing like fools at each one, but finally Pax’s curled-up figure appears in the back of an alcove. He stares at us, appearing more than a little dazed. It’s weird to see him awake while he slumbers restlessly in reality.
Surprise lifts his eyebrows, but only briefly, as though he’s too tired to hold them up or even maintain his shock for more than a couple of seconds. “Hey, pretty girl…and Lucas.”
Trust Pax to retain a demented sense of propriety even deep in his subconscious. Lucas doesn’t respond, but I can’t help but return Pax’s smile. Seeing proof that his brain still functions, hearing his voice and glimpsing that smile, washes away some of my anxiety. “Hey, Pax.”
“What are you doing in here? It’s not safe, you know.”
“I know. We’re not going to stay long. We just want to make sure you’re protected.”
He says nothing, eyes drifting away listlessly. After what I’ve learned this morning about barriers, it worries me that he might not be able to help. “Lucas, I couldn’t go through your wall. You think because I didn’t help make it?”
“I think that’s a reasonable assumption.”
“Then it’s best if all three of us create Pax’s wall. He needs to help. If he doesn’t he’ll be stuck inside, right?”
Lucas casts a doubtful look at Pax, whose faraway gaze and faint smile don’t inspire much confidence. “I’m not sure he can. It looks like his brain and body are too busy dealing with his injuries to be able to focus.”
“But when we grabbed his hands before, I felt his power. And we smelled him. Maybe he can help a little. It might be enough.”
“Let’s give it a try, then.”
We study the opening to Pax’s alcove, and I consider how best to combine our abilities into a strong barricade. Lucas and his father had it easy, with water at their beck and call, but how to morph fire, water, and air into a wall presents more of a challenge.
“It would be easier if we had Deshi, too.” Lucas’s musing breaks the silence. He continues at my raised eyebrow. “I was thinking we could build it in layers. Fire in the middle, then earth, then a wall of ice like mine. But we don’t have earth and I’m not sure a layer of air will keep ours elements separated.”
“I think you’re underestimating him. No one element is inherently stronger than another.”
“Maybe not, but he’s not at full strength. Not even close.” Lucas’s voice softens, as if he’s afraid I think he’s trying to put Pax down.
I don’t think that. Lucas’s unhappiness with the past several months won’t cloud his honesty or judgment. And he’s right. Pax doesn’t have all of his abilities in his grasp right now. We need to take that into consideration.
Creepy-crawlies start to inch their way up my spine and over the back of my neck until they tickle my scalp. I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible. Remembering the first time Pax and I went to my sinum and built the wall gives me an idea. It might be stupid, so instead of voicing it to Lucas, I crouch next to Pax’s seated form and whisper in his ear, “Imagine me a pile of Cell desks.”
It’s the first metal item that comes to mind, and I hold on to his hands, squeezing and offering some of the heated power in my core in case he needs more strength to b
ring them into existence. Before, when I needed to build a wall, a pile of bricks and paste to put them together appeared in my alcove. Now, a low whistle from Lucas opens my eyes, and I drink in the sight of fifteen desks like we sat in at Cell. They’re cold, hard metal—perfect for my purposes. Standing, I give Lucas a grin and wink.
He tips his head in return. “Neat trick. What are they for, though?”
“Help me stack them in the doorway and I’ll show you.”
We drag eleven of the desks into place, stacking them on top of one another from the inside of the alcove until they reach almost to the ceiling. When we’ve finished, I put out my hands and summon the heat. The fear born of the feeling of being hunted, watched, brings it straight up and out of my palms. As my hands move over the desks from bottom to top, the metal melts and fuses together until it’s a solid sheet blocking the entrance.
Lucas’s cold arm snakes around my waist, hugging me to him and bumping our hips together. My insides react to his nearness even as I playfully push him away.
“Now it’s Pax’s turn. With the metal instead of fire, his air buffer won’t need to be strong. It just needs to be part of the wall.”
Lucas nods, and together we pull Pax into a standing position between us.
I squeeze Pax’s cool hand and force him to look at me. “Pax, we need you to make a little wind, right up against the melted desks, okay?”
A wrinkle appears between his eyebrows, a signal that he’s confused or deep in thought. It takes several minutes of patience on my part before he nods. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
Without looking at Lucas, I step Pax forward and let go of his hands, then raise his arms out in front of him. Relief floods me when he doesn’t drop them, but leaves his palms stretched toward the wall.
Spicy-sweet autumn smells swish through the alcove first, then the scent of burning leaves follows, a gentle breeze on its heels.
“Harder, Pax.”
His jaw clenches. A worrisome, thin sheen of sweat pops out on his forehead and his upper lip, but the breeze turns into an actual wind and bumps against my wall. Lucas takes his cue and puts out his hands, creating a waterfall from the ceiling and quickly freezing it. Once the water’s solid, Lucas wipes some frost from the surface. Behind the thick ice, gray clouds of air swirl into cyclones.
“I think it worked!” The surprise in my own voice makes me laugh a little. I hadn’t really expected a positive outcome.
Pax collapses onto the dirt floor, still awake but clearly spent. Lucas and I drag him back against the wall.
“Time to get out of here.” Relief is evident in Lucas’s tone, the way the words tumble out as though he’s been holding them in his chest since we got here.
As much as I agree, another idea snags its claws into my mind. “Not yet. I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh, no. The last time you had an idea I ended up maimed by a raccoon.”
“That was totally your fault. Now, listen. The Others hear one another in their minds, right? And my mother could talk to me by coming into my alcove. What if you, Pax, and I could communicate that way, too?”
A funny expression steals over Lucas’s face, changing his features from open to shut in a matter of seconds. The fear behind his gaze tugs me to his side, slips my hand into his. It’s hard to know for sure what’s causing his reaction, but I give voice to my best guess.
“If we could do that, none of us would have to be alone. Even if we’re separated, we can always find one other. That’s why we should try. We need a map, at least one in our heads, to find our way between our alcoves.”
Lucas blinks hard several times in a row, but the tears won’t go away. It has to be what he fears most now that we’ve been separated once—being alone again. He nods, swallowing hard and pulling me against his chest for a quick hug. I squeeze back, my arms freezing against his back, and when he turns me loose his emotions are under control.
“I think it’s too dangerous to wander around.”
“Lucas, we need this. And now that we can share our power to come and go more easily, we can get out whenever we want.” I pause, wondering whether bringing up his father is a mistake, but do it anyway to gauge his reaction. “You’re the one who says we should accept our Otherness, that Apa helped you see that. So this is our hive, too. May as well get to know it.”
“I didn’t say that, Althea. I said there are two sides to every story, but right now the Prime is still our enemy. Until that changes, we can’t be careless.”
“Fine. But we’re going to have to go to my sinum eventually, anyway. The wall took a beating during my interrogation and I didn’t have time to rebuild it well. And we’re already here.” My hand goes instinctively to my collarbone, which still aches every time I breathe.
Lucas’s eyes darken like the sky before a storm. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”
We walk right through Pax’s wall, a feat that amazes me even though Lucas told me that it’s penetrable to those who build it, and stop in the corridor. I wonder briefly if my alcove smells like me even when I’m not there, if perhaps the jasmine scent can lead us the way Pax’s did, but I smell nothing. A look at the concerned expression on Lucas’s face confirms he isn’t sure which way to go either, so I pick a direction.
The two of us scout the hive, repeating left and right turns to each other, but even so, finding our way back to Pax seems difficult at best. Packed dirt surrounds us on every side, absorbing our footsteps and returning claustrophobia to me like an old friend—I suppose the caverns can’t collapse, but the fear of being buried in here forever makes me want to give up the mission and turn back.
After a half hour or so has passed, Lucas stops me with a cold hand on my arm. He presses a finger to his lips and cocks his head to the right, down yet another indistinguishable dim tunnel. A soft mumble of voices flows our direction.
Since these caverns belong to the Others, we can assume they’re the ones chatting. Instinct propels me back the way we came, and Lucas tugs my hand in agreement, but then I stop.
Because I hear my name.
CHAPTER 4.
Lucas and I hold a silent conversation with our eyes the way we used to, and even though we’ve been apart for months we’re still much better at it than Pax and I ever were. Lucas’s eyes say, Let’s hit the bricks, and mine say, Let’s find out what they’re saying. I win, mostly because talking is too big of a risk so Lucas doesn’t have much of a choice but to follow me down the corridor when I start walking.
The rumble of conversation covers the slight scuff of our tennis shoes, and we draw to a stop when the voices become clear. The Others who are talking remain out of sight, around at least one more bend.
“How long are we supposed to wait here?” The smooth, rippling voice belongs to an Other, but without a line of sight there’s no way to tell if it’s a Warden or not. The only voices I can differentiate are the Prime’s and his children’s, and it’s none of them.
“Chief said as long as it takes to get this wall the rest of the way down, but there’s relief on the way. And we’re supposed to notify him when she shows up. She has to sleep sometime.”
My hand tightens around Lucas’s. They’re trying to take down my wall—and they will, given enough time. I have a day or two, maybe a week, before sleeping is going to again become a luxury. The good news is that we’ve found my alcove.
For a moment I close my eyes, trying to recall the twists and turns we took from Pax’s sinum, wishing more than anything that I had a pen. When I open my eyes, there’s a pen in my hand.
Lucas’s wide eyes blink a couple of times as he stares at it, then motions for me to hurry up. I write directions between Pax’s and my alcoves on my arm, then tuck the pen into the pocket of my jeans. This time when Lucas jerks his thumb back the way we came, I don’t argue. But before we move more than a couple of steps, a contingent of five Others steps into the hall in front of us.
Five this way, and who knows how many behind us, guardi
ng my sinum.
Claustrophobia claws at my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. Dizziness and sweat swamp me in waves as I spin around, unable to decide which direction to try. The cold anchor of Lucas’s palm against mine stops my whirling, and his steady eyes hold mine still.
“We just have to open our eyes in the cabin.”
Cold and heat swim out of our palms, mingling as it runs into my veins and then back into Lucas. I close my eyes, suck in a deep breath, and ignore the pounding of booted feet as the Others clomp toward us in the hive.
Then I smell a crackling fire, and Wolf’s wet tongue scrapes across my cheek.
Lucas’s body is there, but our hands aren’t touching. Then he falls backward onto the carpet, jerking into a ball with a grunt.
He didn’t make it out.
Panic tries to slow me down but I shove it away, remembering how Pax saved me while Zakej had me in the hive. I can do the same for Lucas. Swallowing hard, I scurry to his side and grab both of his hands, turning inward again and focusing on Lucas’s face.
The five Wardens that found us are still there, and the sound of running boots says more are coming. Two of them have Lucas’s hands pinned behind his back and struggle to slip gloves—like the ones that trapped my power in Portland—over his hands. Lucas shakes one Warden loose with an elbow to the jaw, but he’s rewarded with a punch to the face and another kick to the ribs for his efforts.
I’m behind them, which gives me the advantage. The anger from watching Lucas get hurt overcomes the twist of guilt in my stomach, and I reach out, shoving fire at the two Wardens dealing the blows.
They ignite and spin to face me, and the ones holding Lucas drop his arms in surprise. Pain at the sight of their unreal beauty slams through my eyeballs and into my skull, making me squint, and their blond hair and bottomless black eyes blur around the edges as they go up in flames.
Lucas scrambles to his feet, soaks the Others in a waterfall, and then stumbles to my side. The moment our hands meet and Lucas’s eyes close, I focus on the cabin.
