He slid under his sheets and laid his head on the pillow. With exhaustion taking over, he tried to put aside his looming concerns and disregard the question of whether Celia would recover quickly, or whether Washington Sykes would discover he was the saboteur. While Landon’s eyes closed, welcoming his long-overdue slumber, he hoped that his mind would quiet just long enough for his body to truly rest.
Landon woke up in a strange place. Light shone through the trees, blinding him slightly. He rose to his feet and attempted to get his bearings. He looked to be in a forest. How did I get here? he wondered.
As he looked around he noticed a clearly defined road only a few yards away. The ground of the trodden path was hard under his feet, the black soil packed down from the travelers who had passed this way before.
He looked down the path in both directions as far as he could see before they bent and disappeared into the forest. He had no idea which way he was supposed to go, or where he was trying to reach. Both directions seemed to be equally well-traveled. It would be easy to choose were the leftward way overgrown with thick brush and broken branches and the right path clean and tailored; or if the rightward way were dark and dreary and the left path speckled with sunlight that broke enchantingly through the canopy. But there was nothing to direct Landon one way or the other; both paths appeared to be of equal merit, but each also led to a place unknown.
While he contemplated which direction to take, he wondered what might lie beyond what he could see. Was one road more treacherous, fraught with obstacles and challenges, while the other was smooth and easy to navigate? Did one lead to exotic places and exciting adventures while the other led to dreary corners of the world? Perhaps they were part of a loop and converged, directing Landon to the same destination?
He could not figure out why he was so indecisive, or why he had a compulsion to choose a road in the first place. Why couldn’t he just stay where he was? The forest was peaceful and serene. He could hear water running somewhere past the clearing where he woke up. There appeared to be plenty of wood to make a shelter and build a fire. Why should he choose?
Then Landon heard leaves rustling.
“Is anyone there?” he asked, feverishly searching for the source of the movement.
Suddenly, a stag broke through the bushes and stopped on the path. It turned its head to look at Landon through its deep brown, shiny eyes. It was a magnificent creature—its massive body was held up by four lean, muscular legs, and a set of five-prong antlers grew regally out of its head; there was a majesty about it. Its antlers formed what could be mistaken as an exquisite crown, yet Landon knew those osseous protrusions could easily skewer anything that threatened it.
He stared at the creature, in awe of its beauty. The stag began to pivot on the path. As its hindquarters came into prominent view, Landon noticed something. An arrow was lodged in the animal’s right flank, and a fresh stream of blood ran down its fur and disappeared under its belly before dripping to the ground.
Landon inched closer to the animal, taking small, quiet steps so as not to startle it. He wanted to help; however, each time he got close enough to where he could almost feel the stag’s fur with his outstretched hand, it would abruptly run away down the path, yet always stopping within view of Landon.
Landon continued farther and farther into the unknown, wanting desperately to help the animal survive.
It wasn’t until much later, after the stag became startled and ran off many times over, that Landon took a moment to regain his bearings and realized he had inadvertently wandered off the path. He had no idea when or where he had veered off course, and when he looked around, he saw nothing that would help him get back to the trail.
When he turned back, the stag was gone. Landon was alone, lost and unsure of what to do. But he tried to stay calm. He looked sharply in every direction, searching for a broken twig, tousled soil, anything that might guide him back to the path. To his right, he noticed the sunlight seemed to be brighter, perhaps from a clearing where the thick canopy couldn’t block the sun’s rays.
Without any other logical path, Landon moved toward the bright light, but just as he broke through the tree line, he tripped and stumbled forward. He had no time to save himself before his body slid across the loose soil and plummeted off the edge of a cliff, dropping hundreds of feet to the jagged rocks below. A split second before he hit the ground—
Landon woke up.
Landon hated dreams of falling. He always jumped awake the instant before he crashed, and he could feel the lingering effects of the fall, those signs of real, tangible fear that came over his body as if the dream were reality. His body was tense and sweaty, his stomach felt like it was in his chest, and his heart raced.
He looked to the clock on his desk. He couldn’t believe it was so late in the day—dinnertime. He’d been sleeping for well over twelve hours, which he’d definitely needed.
He got out from under his sheets. He moved slowly, his back noticeably sore and stiff. It was hard for him to put on his shoes to go to the cafeteria, for the bending down only exacerbated the pain. As he got ready for dinner, the events of the past few days replayed in his mind. The sleep had allowed his brain to recharge, finally giving him the ability to think with a renewed clarity. Amid the stresses of the mission, the Sentry’s arrival, Celia’s injury, and the conversation with Dr. Brighton, Landon kept coming back to one moment. It was something Dr. Brighton had said: “You’ve got to trust someone, don’t you?”
With the single statement replaying over and over again in his mind, Landon started to realize that he’d gone from trusting nearly everyone to fully trusting no one. No matter whom it was, a part of him always wondered if they were genuine. In only a month’s time, he’d been transformed into a complete cynic. He even bore some doubts about Celia. Her drive to succeed and her hatred for Dr. Brighton had made Landon wonder on multiple occasions whether her stories about the horrors of the Gymnasium weren’t to some extent exaggerated and twisted, even if unintentionally.
But Landon was certain he wanted to help Celia, especially now that she was in a coma. A part of him hoped that when she awoke, he’d be able to present her with a veritable dossier of new information and progress, but the other part hoped he’d find nothing. If he found nothing, perhaps this whole double life could come to an end.
Landon sat back in his chair, flipping through a rolodex of names in his mind as he asked himself over and over again, Who can I trust implicitly? Who would listen objectively to what he said and provide unbiased advice? Who was so disconnected from the situation that it’d be impossible for them to have a hidden agenda? Who could search for the truth without bias or cause? If Landon was Sherlock, who was his Watson? He instinctively thought of his mother, but sadly acknowledging the problem with that line of reasoning, he quickly landed on someone he didn’t expect.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE GIRL WHO
KNEW TOO MUCH
Landon walked into the cafeteria for dinner hoping that everyone might have forgotten about what had happened during his last training session in Tactometry. But the instant the door closed behind him, the heads of every student in the room turned and stared wonderingly at him. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he hurried toward the food service line; gossipy whispers hummed behind him. The word had obviously gone out about the scene he’d caused the other day. Even the woman serving up pot roast gave Landon a pitying look.
As he exited the line with his tray of food, he saw Katie Leigh sitting alone in the far corner. It wasn’t hard for him to spot her among the tables with her short, wiry frame, mousy brown hair, freckled face, and nose in a book while everyone else was focusing on eating their dinner. Landon moved to join her while trying desperately to disregard the scrutinizing eyes and the defamatory whispers of the people he passed.
He sat down across the
table from her and nervously adjusted the food on his tray. She didn’t immediately acknowledge him. She seemed completely engrossed her a book, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side as she read, all the while mindlessly twirling her spaghetti in meat sauce with her fork. When she finally looked up and realized that Landon was sitting across from her, a look of concern formed on her face.
“Hey, why isn’t Riley with you?” Landon asked, trying to avoid the elephant in the room.
“Probably back in the Rec Center, playing some stupid video game. He was here earlier, but ate fast and left.” There was a certain amount of contempt in her voice as she talked about Riley. Landon never quite knew where their friendship stood. “How’s she doing?” Katie Leigh added, referring to Celia.
“She’s stable, but they don’t know when she’s going to wake up.” Landon could feel his guilt resurface. “I can’t help but feel I had something to do with it.”
“Why would you think that?” Katie Leigh asked. “You were on different sides of the room.”
“Yeah, but—” Landon paused. This was it. He couldn’t believe the moment had arrived so quickly. It still was a bit strange to him that when he thought of whom he could implicitly trust, Katie Leigh Chapman, a precocious, freckle-faced girl barely past her thirteenth birthday, was the first person after his mother who came to mind.
On his walk to the cafeteria, Landon had tried to figure out why her name was the one that popped out to him. He initially was surprised it wasn’t Riley, arguably his best friend at the Gymnasium, but Landon soon arrived at the fact that Riley was a consummate gossip. Riley was genuine and loyal, but Landon was afraid that if the situation arose, he might accidentally blurt out something in a moment of excitement before realizing what he was saying was strictly confidential. That possibility was something Landon couldn’t risk.
Then he wondered about Peregrine. She’d helped him greatly in tapping into his abilities, and was reserved, so the situation he feared with Riley wouldn’t be an issue with her, but she was also on the Pantheon. Landon pictured an unfortunate scenario where he said the wrong thing and she felt obligated to relay it to their superiors as a direct result of her loyalty to the team. She had told Landon a few weeks back that their short time on the Pantheon was the first time in her life she had felt accepted. It was a place where her disability and unique talents were seen as assets and not as hindrances. Acceptance was a powerful bond. Landon didn’t want to test those waters either.
So once he came back around to Katie Leigh, his trust in her started to make sense. She was keen and unbiased, as well as emotionally mature beyond her years. On countless occasions over the past year, she had always seemed to advise Landon to take the path that made the most sense rather than the one that might have been the easiest or most popular She didn’t concern herself with the possible social repercussions but focused purely on what was logical and had the highest potential for a beneficial outcome. She really was the one person he could trust.
“Umm—” he began, not sure how to go about this, especially in a crowded room full of feasting students. Landon leaned in closer and quieted his voice, ensuring that Katie Leigh was the only person who could hear him. “I’m going to tell you something,” he started, “but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say. Not even Riley. This has to be between you and me. Agreed?”
Katie Leigh set her book down on the table, closing it without even marking her page, and leaned in toward him. His secretive approach had intrigued her. With a similarly muted voice, Katie Leigh replied, “I already know about the Pantheon, Landon.”
Landon fell back onto his bench. “What?” he exclaimed, both flustered and confused. A number of faces turned and looked for the cause of his outburst. Instantly overcome with embarrassment, Landon averted his eyes, shielded his face with his hand, and leaned in again toward Katie Leigh. “What? How do you know that?” he demanded with as much force as he could convey through his whisper, but before she could answer, he stopped her. “Wait. No. That’s not what I wanted to tell you.” Landon was completely discombobulated. Katie Leigh’s statement had thrown him off entirely.
Katie Leigh leaned in closer, lifting herself off the bench, and turned her head slightly so her ear was in close proximity to Landon’s mouth. Her brow furrowed inquisitively as she wondered what else Landon might be keeping secret.
Landon didn’t start talking right away. He was compartmentalizing what he’d just heard so he could focus on what he wanted to say.
“So you won’t tell anyone?” He again asked for assurance. Katie Leigh had yet to swear to her silence.
“Yes. Yes. I swear I won’t tell anyone.” Her response was fast and earnest; the anticipation of what Landon was about to reveal growing more unbearable with every passing second. “You can trust me, Landon. I won’t say anything. What is it?”
With sudden paranoia, Landon scanned the area around him, confirming that no one else was within earshot and then moved a bit closer to Katie Leigh. “You see, Celia and I, we have this—um—special connection.”
As Katie Leigh turned her head to look Landon in the eye, everything on her face seemed to expand. Her eyes were wide and her mouth gaping. Her ears even seemed to pull back slightly, tightening the skin over her cheeks. And there was a glimmer in her eye. “No way,” she said enthusiastically. “It can’t be.” She plopped back down on her bench, processing Landon’s words. She began to shake her head slowly. “I can’t believe it. . . . Riley was right.” Katie Leigh looked back up at Landon, leaned in again, and asked excitedly, “You and Celia are a couple?”
What? No! Really? How could she think that? Landon’s mind reeled, and before he could respond, Katie Leigh was back on the bench, her head turned away from Landon, but he could still hear her ramblings as she talked to herself. “It all makes so much sense. Riley said what you did yesterday could only come from someone in love. I didn’t believe him, but—I never—wow!”
“Katie,” Landon tried to pull her back in. “Katie!” His calls finally seemed to reach her, and she lifted her head to look at him. “Celia and I are not dating,” he said, still speaking in a low volume, hoping to prevent any eavesdropping from the people around them. “Or in love,” he added.
“You’re not?” she asked, sounding almost disappointed. “Then what are you talking about? Landon, when people say they have a ‘special connection’ it usually means they are romantically involved.” Her tone was forceful and slightly angry. “What kind of ‘special connection’ is it, then?”
“Well . . . Celia and I . . . we can sort of communicate with each other . . . with our minds.” His words were stammered as he worked to accurately convey what he was trying to say.
“Yeah, so?” Katie Leigh replied, suddenly annoyed. “We all can do that, Landon. It’s called thought reception.”
“Katie, I know what thought reception is.” Landon hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words to make her understand. “And I know you know that thought reception only works with outward thoughts that can be heard by anyone, like a radio broadcast.” Katie Leigh leered at him. “With Celia and me, we can talk to each other, and no one else can hear what we’re saying. It’s like we’re speaking over the phone or with walkie-talkies.”
“So you and Celia can have whole conversations without anyone around you hearing, like a . . .”—he could tell she was searching for the words to describe what she understood Landon to be saying—“like a closed-circuit telepathic exchange?”
“Exactly . . . I think.” Landon replied.
“Well, can you or Celia do this with anyone else? There are cases where people develop what I would call splinter skills, where certain forms of their psychokinesis are advanced, and they develop unique extensions of their abilities. This might just be a new one.”
“No, it’s just between u
s. And what you don’t understand is that yesterday in Tactometry, she was talking to me when it happened. She was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t want to talk. I needed her out of my head, so I tried to force her out. Which apparently worked because next thing I knew, she was unconscious, and now the doctors don’t even know what’s wrong with her or when she’ll wake up.”
“So you weren’t exaggerating when you said you might have something to do with her current situation.”
Landon lowered his head in shame. Even through his guilt, he was dumbfounded by how well Katie Leigh was taking the information. He was right to trust her. She really wanted to understand what was going on and then figure out why it was happening. She didn’t second-guess him, or ask if he was sure, she just asked questions to get a full grasp of what he was saying. And the exercise of full disclosure left Landon feeling invigorated. The floodgates were open, and he was ready to air every hidden secret and pressure that had burdened him over the past weeks. He couldn’t stop himself.
But the pause in conversation gave Katie Leigh enough time to process everything and devise a few more questions. “What was she trying to tell you?” she asked. “When you tried to force her out, as you put it. What was she trying to say? It must’ve been important, right? For her not to wait until the training was over, it must have been.”
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