“Yeah, no way is she the one. She’s too nice,” Jeremiah added.
“I’d have to agree with you,” Landon said as he stood from the table. “Of all of us, I think she’s the most innocent.”
Just as he turned to go, Brock added, “Don’t be so certain. It’s always the ones you least suspect who are the quickest to stab you in the back.”
Landon stood still for a moment, a chill running down his back, but quickly composed himself and headed out of the cafeteria.
• • • • •
The next evening, Landon found Peregrine in the Atrium before sunset. She sat under the large oak tree, staring up into the sky. Its new leaves, which were once silken chartreuse, had darkened and hardened into a deep forest green as the weeks progressed into the peak of summer. The golden evening light reflected off the mirrors hanging at the center of the high glass dome, giving the white marble pillars encircling the Atrium a golden gleam.
“Hey, do you mind if I join you?” Landon asked as he approached, hoping not to startle her.
“Of course not,” she replied, tapping the floor beside her welcomingly.
Landon lowered himself into a seated position about a foot away from her, feeling the coolness of the hard floor through his jeans. He looked up as she did and waited patiently, wondering if the awkwardness he felt was only in his mind, or if she felt it too. He needed to talk to her but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. As he searched to find the right moment to speak, the light cast through the tree mesmerized him, the flecks of light shimmering in and out of focus as an unknown breeze, which Landon couldn’t feel, rustled the leaves and branches of the massive oak. Landon remembered the last time Peregrine and he had sat under that tree together, almost in the exact same spot. It was in the middle of the night, the hallways were quiet, everyone had gone to bed, but she was there teaching Landon how to truly access his abilities for the first time. She was the first one who was able to get through to him. The first one who understood how he felt and recognized the real problem he faced: His tactometric senses were blocked, and he couldn’t use his telekinetic abilities because he couldn’t feel the things around him.
Hesitantly Landon broke the silence. “So how did it go the other day?” he asked, referring to her session with Washington.
“Fine,” she replied casually, not diverting her gaze to him when she spoke. “It was pretty uneventful.”
“Uneventful? Really?” Landon asked, surprised.
“Yeah, he asked me some questions, searched my memories, and then once he was satisfied, we were done.”
Her response was so nonchalant it made Landon nervous. “But didn’t it hurt?” he asked. “When he searched your memories, I mean.”
“Not really,” she answered. “Did it hurt you?”
“Kind of,” Landon said, trying to play off the excruciating pain he’d endured during his session.
“Oh.” She lowered her head; her violet eyes, though void of vision, looked compassionately at him. “I’m sorry. Did you not let him in?”
Landon couldn’t tell her that he vehemently did not let Washington into his mind. To tell her he did everything within his power and will to stop Washington from accessing his memories would only draw suspicion. “Did you?” he returned, curious.
“I have nothing to hide,” Peregrine answered.
Landon shifted around on the floor, trying to get comfortable on the firm ground. “Really? Not one secret? Not a single thing you don’t want anyone in the world to know?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “I view my life as a one-way road. You can’t stop yourself from moving forward, even when you hit a bump. And there are bound to be more ahead.”
Landon stared at her, bewildered. He didn’t understand how a person just a year older than he was could speak with such profound words, like she’d already lived a lifetime.
“You can worry about them all you want, or you can remember what that bump looked like and just try to avoid it the next time around. But the past is the past. I hit the bump. Whether I’m proud of it or ashamed, it happened. Why deny it?”
This was such a foreign idea to Landon. He couldn’t imagine his life without secrets, especially in his current situation. Right now it seemed his livelihood and survival ran on lies, secrets and deception. What he would give to be free of those burdens—those pressures.
“But wasn’t it hard?” Landon asked. “I know there are things in my past I would do anything not to relive again. The memories are just too painful.”
“Of course,” she started. “But remembering that pain prepares you for the future. I was born blind, but I actually cannot remember a time when I couldn’t see.” Landon looked at her, confused. “I remember when I was seven. I was sitting on the couch with my mom. She was watching some talk show. It always made her cry. But I couldn’t see the show—obviously—so my mind wandered.
“I started paying attention to the girl next door who was playing house with a friend from school, the boys down the street playing hockey in the road, and the three men coming up the path to our door. At the time, I had no idea it was my gifts that allowed me to see all of that. I just developed that way. I thought it was natural. Like I said, I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t see. The doctors here think my abilities activated early somehow to compensate for my being blind.
“Anyways, the men were dressed in uniforms, ones just like my dad wore, but I didn’t know them. My father had been deployed months before, and he wasn’t scheduled to come home for another few weeks.
“I remember turning to my mom and saying, ‘Some of daddy’s friends are at the door.’ My mom looked at me strangely. ‘What are you talking about, honey?’ she asked me. ‘Daddy and his friends are all away right now.’ But I was adamant. I told her that men who were dressed like my father were coming to our door. She said I must have fallen asleep and was dreaming, but when the doorbell interrupted her, I couldn’t help but tell her, ‘I told you so.’”
Landon was enraptured by her story, and couldn’t believe she could be so open about her life. The way she spoke, Landon knew the story was difficult for her to tell, but she told it all the same. He was afraid how it would conclude; it was obvious it wasn’t going to end well.
“It was the worst day of our lives.” A tear fell from Peregrine’s eye, traveling slowly down her smooth, pale cheek. “The men in the uniforms, the ones who came to the door, were there to deliver my father’s death notification. He had apparently died from a shrapnel wound caused by an I.E.D. that went off on the side of the road. But I didn’t just lose my dad that day. From then on, my mother never looked at me the same.
“Every time she saw me, I could sense her fear—her terror. I scared her—no, I horrified her. I wish I could forget the way she looked at me.”
Peregrine broke down and started crying. Landon didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t anticipated this. Her emotions must have still been running high after her interrogation yesterday, and the memory was still too fresh and painful. Why is she telling me this if it hurts so much? he wondered, saddened by her tears.
She looked up at Landon, her watery eyes shining like polished glass. “You have no idea what it’s like to lose both your parents. I mean my mom was there, but she wasn’t there. She wanted nothing to do with me. She thought I was possessed.” Peregrine let out a strange noise that sounded like a garbled laugh. “I mean, she even tried to have an exorcism!”
“Actually, I do know.” Landon couldn’t believe he was telling her his secret. He kept all his painful memories guarded and locked away in his mind, doing all he could to ensure no one else knew of the sadness he’d suffered. In that moment, however, he would have done anything to help her. He wanted so badly to connect with her; let her know that she wasn’t alone, that they shared a similar past—a similar tragedy. Eve
n though the circumstances were different, the outcome was still the same: their abilities destroyed their families. Peregrine’s father was not a victim of her psychokinetic powers, but her gifts turned a mother’s love into a debilitating fear. A little girl who desperately needed the comforting embrace of her mother in the trying times following the passing of her father was instead shunned.
Landon told her about his apocratusis: how he’d lost control and woke up to his home trashed, his parents dead, and his life ruined; how he ran away, afraid of what might happen to him if he was caught; how he lived on the streets, running from fear of an unknown enemy; and how Sofia brought him to the Gymnasium.
“I’m so sorry,” Peregrine said, fighting back more tears as Landon poured out his heart. “I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s still hard, you know?” Landon said, choking back the knot that had formed in his throat as he thought back to that night. “Some days are harder than others, but I eventually learned that I had no control over it; what happened wasn’t my fault. So you can’t blame yourself for what happened between you and your mom. She just didn’t understand.”
Peregrine looked at him with compassion and gratitude before turning her head back toward the sky, looking up through the branches and leaves of the oak as the sun set on the valley. Suddenly, Landon remembered what he’d come to talk to her about. He had yet to learn if she could explain what Washington triggered in his mind. He thought he’d try and ask around it. If he asked the right questions, her responses might enlighten him.
“Peregrine, can I ask you something?” Landon probed, feeling the moment was right.
“Of course.”
“What does the world look like . . . to you, I mean?”
“It’s kind of hard to describe,” she said, not looking away from the sky. “Everything’s the same color. I honestly don’t know what color, as I’ve never seen what it’s supposed to look like, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s blue. And everything has this sort of light—a glow. Living things glow brightest, but it changes from one thing to the other. The world pulses, spreading like a ripple in a still lake, reaching out to the farthest distances my abilities can allow. I don’t think anyone understands how much is constantly going on around us. It’s overwhelming, but in an enchanting way.”
Landon couldn’t help but look over at her as she continued to stare up toward the sky. Her words were magical to him, and extraordinary. The way she described it was so beautiful. Her words rolled off her tongue with smooth, ethereal undulations. And her description perfectly matched what he’d experienced in his session. But how could such a psychokinetic awakening happen to him? How could he sense so far and see so clearly, as Peregrine did, and then have that awareness fade away just as suddenly as it appeared?
“You, Landon, you shine brighter than anyone I’ve ever seen.” She turned to him, her eyes beaming with rapture and amazement, like she was looking at her favorite thing in the entire world. “You’re like a pillar of fire, blazing eternally, dancing through the darkness. Your energy overshadows everything around you until you’re the only thing I can see sometimes.”
Landon blushed, his cheeks flushing with tingling warmth. She broke her gaze and looked up through the tree again. He stared at her quizzically for a moment, choosing not to respond, only wanting to take in the childlike, wondrous expression she had on her face as she focused on the sky. She saw the world in such a different but marvelous way. Landon could only imagine how she felt viewing the world through such a lens.
“So right now, can you see the sky?” he asked, curious if Peregrine could see the shifting colors of the evening.
“No, but I can see the leaves. The light makes them sparkle . . . like millions of sequins glistening as the light brushes them. I like to think that’s what stars look like.”
The two of them sat silently for a long time. Landon continued to watch Peregrine for quite a while before joining her in looking up at the sky. He gazed up as the sky turned from golden orange to shades of pink and purple and finally faded into the cerulean blue of summer’s night.
• • • • •
Before climbing up the ladder to the long balance beam, Landon raised his hand, telekinetically stopping a wave of foam balls from hitting him. He had nearly completed the agility course. If he managed to get across the beam, he’d only need to scale a tiered tower of boxes. Parker always made it look so easy, but Landon found it difficult to maintain his balance. He spread his arms out at the sides, using them to equalize his weight before putting one foot in front of the other. Staying up required every part of his body. His abs contracted and released as he shifted his shoulders and arms, trying to stay aligned. The others watching from the side made exaggerated gasps and expelled elongated oohs every time he nearly lost it and fell.
He couldn’t help but smile. Their calls were lively and good spirited, based solely on an amicable desire to tease him—the sounds of friends. He couldn’t believe how close he was becoming to them all, save Brock, although of course none of them knew that he was the one Washington and Dr. Wells was looking for. What would they think of him if they found out? Who would stand by him? Who would listen to his side of the story? The rush of questions caused him to lose focus on the beam. He desperately tried to maintain his balance, but it was too late.
His teammates fell silent as they watched him fall. Instinctively, Landon concentrated, using his telekinetic powers to remain suspended in the air alongside the beam.
As he directed himself back onto the beam, he could hear Joshua saying, “Hey, no fair!” behind him. Flight was something not everyone could do. On Landon’s first day in the Palaestra, Cortland spoke the truth when he said maintaining flight was difficult. Not only did it require a level of strength, but it required complete focus and unwavering willpower. If he faltered for even a moment, he would lose his grip on himself and fall to the mat.
Landon breathed heavily once he disengaged his abilities, and returned to crossing the long beam. It was nothing compared to when he flew Cortland and himself through the middle of the Metis Labs building a few months ago, but sustaining flight, even for a few seconds, took a bit out of him; he always inadvertently held his breath.
After a few more careful steps, Landon completed the balance beam portion of the obstacle course and made quick work of the tiered tower of boxes, climbing from one tower to the next, leaping at times to reach a stack that was farther away. This portion of the course was intended to simulate a mission in a populated city, or an escape from a warehouse. Landon could feel the anticipation growing as he neared the top. Just a few more towers and he’d be done with the course.
Breathing heavily and physically exhausted from the arduous activity, Landon was bent over, his hands clenching his knees for support once he found sound footing on the top tier. From that vantage point, he must have been three stories off the ground, but the Palaestra was a massive room and the ceiling was still at least two stories above him.
Grateful for his success and moment of reprieve, Landon looked down at his teammates clustered together on the opposite end of the room. Brock leaned against the wall, one arm crossing his chest, propping up his other, which he was examining casually. He seemed more interested in the dirt under his fingernails than in watching Landon. Parker was off in her own little world, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers as she sat on the ground. Cortland and the twins were gazing up at Landon and smiling, applauding his completion of the course. Peregrine stood at the edge of the group, looking ahead, not up at Landon. He wondered if she was watching him. He felt a sort of kinship to her, a growing connection—a building trust. He couldn’t believe after all she’d been through, how strong she was.
• • • • •
Landon stood in front of his locker, changing out of his training clothes with the rest of the guys after the
whole team had run the obstacle course. He forced himself to smile and laugh as the others joked around, but he was clueless as to what they were talking about. His mind was lost in thought. Since finishing his run of the obstacle course, he had tried to stay engaged, chatting with his teammates and cheering them on, but his mind kept trailing back to Celia and how he had only a little more than a day to figure out how to wake her. The pangs of inevitable failure circled in his brain, filling him with guilt and disappointment. He wanted so badly to help her—he needed to help her.
Not only did he feel responsible for putting her in the medical wing, but he also needed her to win the Qualifiers. The only way he saw for them to figure out what was going on was to put her plan to work and get her on the Pantheon. Which couldn’t happen if she was still in a coma once the trials began. And then, even if he managed to wake her, would she be able to perform as needed after such a prolonged stint in a hospital bed? Her muscles were sure to have atrophied, and her body would be weak from being sustained only on fluids for over a month.
“Landon,” Cortland called, as he slammed his locker shut, startling Landon out of his head, “what do you think?”
Landon wore a blank expression.
“We’re going to play some tele-pool in the Rec Center, the twins and I. You want to join us? We need another for the team. If you’re in, we’ll play in pairs—you and me versus these two shysters,” he joked while motioning to the Cranes with his thumb.
“Uh, sure,” Landon stuttered, sounding out of it. “Just let me finish getting dressed.”
The three of them looked at him quizzically, making Landon feel self-conscious. Looking down at himself, he noticed he was holding his sweaty training shirt and pants. He must have dressed on autopilot because he hadn’t a clue that he’d already changed his clothes.
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