Cornerstone 02 - Keystone

by Misty Provencher

  Garrett’s face drops into view, his eyes on mine, the concern rolling off him. He doesn’t blink. His hands flash around me, hovering over my skin and I feel his energy radiating around me like a soft lasso. The throbbing in my heart melts away. I take a deep breath and Garrett finally blinks. He reaches out to help me sit up, but winces before our skin touches and removes his hand, aware of our restrictions again. I push myself up, leaning on one arm.

  “You okay?” Garrett asks. Zane is still crumpled up and coughing a few feet away.

  “Yeah,” I say. “You healed it, didn’t you?”

  Garrett nods. My heart blooms.

  “How about some for me?” Zane groans. In place of an answer, the gym doors swing open and the three girls from the Totus walk in. Robin sighs and crosses the room to Zane while the other two girls stop at the elliptical machines that rim part of the open, padded space where we were training.

  “Wow. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it myself,” Robin says as she hunches down and heaves Zane into a sitting position. “That was really stupid. You know you don’t screw with a Vieo. You’re lucky Garrett didn’t break you in half.”

  “It was training!” Zane groans, clutching his stomach. He glances up at Garrett. “Dang, but you got me good, G.”

  “I thought we were coming for a party,” Zaneen says with one foot on an Elliptical, pushing the pedal backward. “Not to watch Zane make a boob of himself, yet again.”

  “Nali’s got to know how to play offense,” Zane says. I get to my feet easily now, but I almost feel bad for Zane as he wobbles up like a new born giraffe.

  “Oh no,” Garrett says. “Nali’s going to sit this one out, and we’ll just show her how it works.”

  “Of course,” Zaneen grunts, brushing her hair away from her face.

  “Fine,” Zane grimaces. “Let me guess...I’m going to be the attackee, right?”

  “Seems fair,” Garrett says. “Ok, Nali, focus. Go on and put up your field, Z.”

  Zane’s field orbs into place.

  “The real weaknesses are usually more concentrated, but they’re also as small as a pin prick.” Garrett says. He waves to Zane. “Ok, buddy, redemption time. Show her your weaknesses.”

  “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” Zane smirks, but he reaches out his hands to either side, stretching like an albino, 98 pound Jesus. Then he squeezes his eyes shut extra tight as he grunts to Garrett, “Ok, go for it.”

  “Do you see it? Right here,” Garrett motions to the middle of Zane’s torso, but he’s looking at me.

  “Just don’t kill him, Garrett,” Robin says, but she doesn’t bother looking up from studying her fingernails.

  “No, it’s fine,” Zaneen adds. “Go ahead and kill him.”

  Deeta giggles. I stand beside Garrett, but I don’t feel good about him hurting Zane, even if he did just level me.

  “Can you see it? It’s tiny,” Garrett says, but I don’t see any gray spots at all. I squint, I focus and I still don’t see anything. Finally, Garrett says to Zane, “Sorry, buddy, we’re going to have to do it the hard way.”

  “Go on,” Zane grumbles and clenches up his face tighter, which makes me feel even worse.

  “Use one finger. You’ll have to poke around for it,” Garrett says. I frown, but Zane, through one squinting eye, says, “Just go on and do it.”

  I reach out. The area Garrett pointed to is a brilliant blue and I don’t see even a spec of gray. I push a finger toward it, but my finger is held back, as if Zane’s field is made of impenetrable glass.

  “Keep trying,” Zane grunts. I move my finger to the side and Zane winces, but nothing else. My eyes flit nervously over his torso. I’m worried that this is a test and I’m totally failing.

  The first time I jab around, I don’t see anything. Not the second or third time either. Frustrated, I force myself to search more slowly. Zane remains statue-still as I move my pointer finger over his field, poking around his armpits and near the crooks of his elbows, prodding across his collar bones and down toward his navel. The lower I go, the more freaked I get that I’m going to end up inspecting his crotch, and I’m so preoccupied with that worry that I almost miss what I’m actually looking for.

  I catch sight of an itty-bitty gray speck from my peripheral. It’s like a fleck of dark dust, floating beneath Zane’s lungs. It could easily be mistaken for the shadow of another color.

  “There,” I say, pointing at the area. “Is that it?”

  “Touch it,” Garrett says.

  I reach out as gently as I can, grazing it with barely the tip of my finger, and Zane groans, “That’s it!” as he doubles up and drops to the floor in a coughing, gasping fit.

  “You got it,” Garrett laughs. I swear I hear happiness, maybe even relief that I’m not an idiot, in his voice. “Zane’s diabetic. His pancreas is weak.”

  This time, Garrett drops down beside his friend and removes the pain. It still takes a few minutes before Zane hobbles onto his feet again.

  Once he’s up, Garrett says, “Ok, ready, buddy? Go on and hide it, Zane.”

  “Yeah, hide it already, so we can get out of here.” Zaneen yawns.

  Zane curls his fingers and scoops his Cavis around in a half circle, through the air, in front of him. As if the gray patch is part of the air, it swirls and drifts downward toward Zane’s thigh.

  “Do you see it now?” Garrett asks. I can hardly stop nodding, it’s so exciting. I point to the speck.

  “Right there, it moved.”

  “Very good.” Zane says. “Punch it.”

  Maybe it’s the confidence in Zane’s voice, but I don’t even hesitate. I drive my fist right into it, my second knuckle hitting it like a bulls eye. Zane doesn’t even exhale.

  “See?” he says, resuming his spunky, teacher mode. “A Cavis is harmless, except when it is aligned over your weakness. If I was in a real fight, I’d move it so my opponent would target my thigh, where I’m strong. See how it works? It’s a cup game. You got to keep moving your weakness around so no one knows where it really is. That’s why you have to do it as soon as your field is activated, so your opponent is in the dark right from the start.”

  The gray speck is already drifting back, like a cloud, over Zane’s pancreas. It’s like a painting of dots, and I have to blink a million times before I can actually see the picture.

  “The problem,” Garrett says. “Is that a skilled warrior will move their Cavis the minute their field is up and keep moving it so you have a hard time finding its original location. But the more you practice, the easier it is to find them.”

  “It’s all about patterns,” Zane says. “The real trick is moving around your own Cavis while trying to map out your opponent’s Cavis too. If you move your own in the same direction all the time, it becomes obvious where they are.”

  “Does hitting a Cavis kill somebody?” I ask.

  “It can,” Zane nods. “If it’s a hard, direct hit. But we usually don’t try to sink anybody’s battleship.”

  “We don’t,” Garrett says, his voice grave. He stands beside me and I can feel him like a tractor beam, pulling my eyes to his. His gaze is solid too, as if he wants to implant his words in my head. “We might only want to knock them unconscious so they’ll get a second chance in the Rings. But that’s not what they’ll do to you. The Fury means to kill you, Nalena. They don’t care about healing or second chances. They prefer us dead and out of the way. One of the Simple or one of the Alo that’s gone to the Fury might try to stab or shoot you, but a Contego warrior that’s turned will use anything they can, especially striking a Cavis.”

  “So, we’ll take this in baby steps,” Zane says. “Field up equals Move. Your. Cavis. Let’s give it another go.”

  “Nuh uh,” Zaneen says, stepping forward. After that speech, I’m pretty flipped out and ready to learn, but Zaneen plants her hands on her hips as she faces Garrett. “You can do this crap tomorrow. I didn’t show up to watch a noob train a
ll night. We were promised a party.”

  “You were, huh?” Garrett perks an eyebrow at Zane, but all Zane does is lift his palms like he’s clueless.

  “It has been a pretty long night already.” Zane says. “I figured we’d do a little intro to training and then hang out, since you guys have the Courtyard suites all to yourself.”

  I lean against the wall as they’re talking. Having ridden around all morning revisiting my mom’s memory, then watching some freaky father types cart away the dead Fury guy and getting my most painful Cavis jabbed…it’s all kind of totaled me out. But I also know that if I go off to bed now, I won’t be able to sleep anyway. Not knowing that everyone’s partying next door. Especially that Zaneen’s there, with Garrett.

  “We can hang out in my room,” I suggest.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Zane hoots and he claps me on the back. “Welcome to the Contego pack, Nali Girl.”

  “We need pizza, if it’s going to be a party,” Zane says once we let ourselves into my little apartment.

  “You can call the desk while I get drinks,” Garrett tells him. “But you know the best we’re going to get is multi-grain crust and veggies.”

  “Pizza’s pizza.” Zane shrugs and he picks up the phone.

  Robin goes to the glass door and runs her fingers over the glass.

  “Solida Glass. Veeery nice. It’s bullet proof, shatterproof and impermeable. You can’t just buy this stuff. It’s made by the Veritas and it’s stronger than metal.” There is awe in her voice as she taps the glass door.

  “Cool.” Zaneen rolls her eyes, unimpressed.

  “You’d appreciate it a lot more if one of The Fury was standing outside with a gun pointed at your head,” Robin tells her.

  “Like they’d ever make it into the Courtyard.”

  “You never know where they could make it in,” Garrett jumps in, even though his voice is friendly instead of chastising. “You’ve got to be ready for anything.”

  Zaneen tips her head to one side and beams at Garrett.

  “Oh, come on,” Robin says, sliding the glass door open. She’s already stepped outside before she says, “You care if we go look around, Nali?”

  “I don’t mind,” I say, as Zaneen follows her and Deeta bobs along behind them.

  Zane and Garrett start up about my next training session and when they walk into the kitchen, I ditch them and trail after the girls. They’re standing near the tiny waterfall, each of them gazing in different directions. As I walk up beside Deeta, she grabs my arm and squeezes.

  “This is incredible,” she says. “You’re so lucky.”

  Robin grunts. “We’re in the upswing of a Cusp, Deets. Nobody’s lucky.”

  “Oh, but she is lucky.” Zaneen shoots me a smile that glints like sharpened knives. “She’s Garrett’s Vieo. Who cares about any stupid ol’ Cusp when you’ve got Garrett, right, Nali?”

  I push my shoulders back. “If Vieo means that I’m Garrett’s girlfriend, then yeah, I’m lucky, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m Contego.”

  “I don’t know what Vieo means…It doesn’t change the fact that I’m Contego,” Zaneen parrots, strutting back and forth in front of me like a bobble-eyed baby doll.

  All that swirls in my mind is doubt and questions. Why can’t she just like me? Why doesn’t she blast Garrett for not liking her instead of me? Is Zaneen always going to be an extra battle I’ve got to fight?

  Deeta jumps forward to cling on my arm.

  “I am sooo excited!” she yelps. “All that time that you were in History with me and I had no idea you were one of us! Or that you would be Garrett’s Vieo! That’s so cool. It feels like we’re sisters!”

  Her warmth feels like a barrier against Zaneen. I squeeze Deeta’s hand on my arm.

  “Deeta,” I say, keeping my eyes carefully off of Zaneen. “Everyone says I’m Garrett’s Vieo and, uh, I don’t know what that is.”

  Robin lets out a whoop and Zaneen’s gushes a laugh like I just kicked her in the stomach. Deeta squeeze-hugs my arm.

  “It means you’re his intension,” Deeta squeals, searching my face for recognition that, I’m positive, doesn’t come. “It means he chose you for binding!”

  I’m sure my face doesn’t register everything that happens inside me. I assume being bound means marriage, or something like it, and my heart is caught between doing air flips and sliding into my shoe. The effect Garrett has on my heart and my brain and my body is the equivalent of a lit match, thrown into a city-sized box of fireworks.

  But I’m seventeen. My mom didn’t want me to marry young, like she did.

  Then I think of all the conversations Garrett and I have and how he looks at me and how I can talk to him and how it seems like we’ve known each other longer than I’ve even been alive. But I haven’t even known him for a full two months yet. This is way over my head.

  I don’t even know how these things work. Maybe the Ianua won’t give me a choice. Maybe I don’t want one. Maybe I do. The enormous Courtyard, filled to the sides and ceiling with foliage, suddenly seems to be lacking in oxygen.

  “Don’t freak her out like that. She doesn’t even know how it works.” Robin steps forward and wrenches me out of Deeta’s grasp. “Listen, before you lose your mind, here’s what you need to know. Even if he chose you as his Vieo, it doesn’t mean you’re stuck with him.”

  “Stuck? With Garrett?” Zaneen snorts. Robin turns me away from the other two girls.

  “It means that Garrett chose you. That’s it,” Robin says. “Even if you don’t choose him as your Vieo, you’ll be his, until you either choose him too or…”

  “Or,” Zaneen pops up beside Robin, “until you choose someone else.”

  “But if you do choose him, then you’ll be bound,” Deeta squeals, clapping her hands. I think she might faint. “Forever.”

  “Well, you’ll be bound if the Addo agrees to do the ceremony,” Robin says. “Word of advice? Don’t be in a rush. The Ianua only let you bind once and you’re stuck with that guy the rest of your life.”

  “And he’s the only man who can ever father your children,” Deeta adds dreamily.

  “Oh gag,” Zaneen groans. “You’re talking about my brother.”

  “Well, she needs to know all of it,” Robin snaps at Zaneen before turning back to me. “Marriage in the Ianua is a whole lot different than Simple marriages. There’s no divorce, no take backs. So once you’re bound—physically, that’s it. You can only have kids with the person you are bound to. But the Addo usually doesn’t agree to bind couples until they’re at least twenty.”

  “But with the Cusp, he might give in earlier.” Deeta winks at me, like all I need is a little encouragement, instead of about seven more birthdays. “Especially if you drive him totally nuts, like another couple I know.”

  “I love Zane 100-and-a-half percent,” Robin says, “but we still jumped in way too fast.”

  “You guys are actually married?” My lips are really heavy, as if I’ve been smiling way too long. Robin just nods.

  “Pizza’s here!” Garrett shouts from the sliding door and this glob of weird shame splatters all over me. Having the girls tell me what a Vieo is, when Garrett hasn’t told me himself yet, and having Robin encourage me to wait, makes me feel like I’m standing here naked. It seems like this should be private stuff that I should be talking about with Garrett first. It scribbles me up inside.

  Then I turn around and our eyes meet. The clear blue of his eyes erases the shame and the scribbles. Looking into his eyes, it’s like my life lays itself out between us, a sprawling treasure map, and the dotted line that I’m supposed to follow leads straight to him.

  I smile at Garrett and he smiles back.

  It’s just so simple.

  “Why don’t you crack out that picture?” Zane says, once he’s finished his fifth slice of pizza. He’s sitting on the floor with his feet under the coffee table.

  “What picture?” Robin shifts
on the couch right above him, her knees pulled up in front of her. The veggies on her pizza slice look like they could slide off onto Zane’s head.

  “Nali found an old picture and a card at her mom’s storage shed, hidden behind her…Roger’s photo.” Garrett wipes his mouth on a napkin and his eyes flick to me from where he’s sitting in the chair, an arm’s reach from my loveseat. He’s too far away.

  “Oh! Secret stash!” Deeta bubbles. She’s on the loveseat beside me, a little too close, since we can’t move without knocking arms.

  “Let Robbie take a look first,” Zane says. “See if she recognizes anybody.”

  I pull the picture and card from my pocket and hand it her. Zaneen leans in, squinting at the photo too.

  “I can’t see this girl under the smudge. I wonder if we can scrape that off? Wait, isn’t this the guy from that Junkyard?” she leans over Zane, pointing to the slouchy guy at the right side of the photo and Zane nods proudly.

  “Clint,” he says. He drops his head back on the couch cushion and smiles up at her. “You’re gonna be one killer Emen, baby.”

  “Yeah yeah,” she says, flipping the photo back to me. It spins in the air. “But who are the other people?”

  “My mom and Roger are in the middle, but I don’t know who the other ones are,” I say. Zaneen shrugs.

  “Why don’t you just go ask that guy then?” Zaneen takes a big bite of her pizza, but no sauce gets on her face. “What was his name again? Clint?”

  Zane laughs and slaps his knee. “Just go ask him? Clint? Sure. The problem with asking Clint anything is that he’s not going to tell you anything. He hates the Ianua. Shoot, he hates people.”

  “He does business with you and your dad,” Robin says. “He can’t hate you too much.”

  “He takes our money,” Zane says. “It’s not like he invites us to his birthday parties. That’s why Larsy doesn’t go there anymore. Clint kicked him out, after Larsy asked about donating some property in the middle of the junkyard for an Ianua safe house. I mean, damn, it would be the perfect place to disguise a house. Who would think to look under a heap of metal in the middle of the yard? It was Larsy’s one good idea and he not only got shot down, but he got thrown out of the junkyard for life too.”