Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  “Holy shit! Sorry,” I say, flabbergasted by what just happened.

  Luci bounces on her feet and claps. “Woohoo! That was mega cool, SG. You gotta do that again. But wait. Wait ‘til I get my goggles.” She runs to the cabinet and pulls out her illuminosity goggles.

  “Okay, pick something else.” She scans the room. “The microscope. That thing weighs a ton. See if you can do it to the microscope.” She adjusts the goggles on her head.

  I close my eyes again, but this time I don’t envision what happened that night. Somehow I understand that it’s only necessary to summon up the intensity of emotion. Opening my eyes, I fix on the microscope, and then wham. My hand sends it airborne. It smashes into the wall, leaving a dent and a huge black mark before crashing to the floor and shattering to pieces.

  “I knew it! I knew it!” Luci says, wrenching off the goggles. “A big bolt of energy just shot out of your hand.” She looks at the destroyed microscope, and her triumphant expression falls away. “Uh oh, that was a really expensive piece of equipment. Probably should have practiced on something else. Narowyn’s not going to be happy, but maybe she won’t mind when we tell her how it happened.”

  “No! We can’t tell Narowyn yet. We can’t tell anyone until we find out what this thing is.”

  “It’s just your energy, SG. You’ve stumbled on a way to harness your illuminosity and use it.”

  “Yeah … as a weapon. Some people might not think that’s so great. It’s just one more thing that makes me weird. IUGA will probably try to have me arrested if they find out—unlawful use of hands, or something.”

  She hops up and sits next to me on the lab table. “That’s hogwash. Look SG, this is great. The power comes from here.” She uses two fingers to tap my forehead. “Your palm’s only the conduit. Once we figure out how to get it under control, you can move objects around any way you want by just using your mind. That’s a good thing. After we understand how it works, I bet any of us can learn to do it.”

  “But that’s what I’m saying. We need to figure it out first. You and me. I don’t want to be studied or experimented on like some guinea pig. Narowyn wouldn’t do that on purpose, but if she finds out about this, you know she won’t rest until she gets to the bottom of it. You have to promise me—not a word to anyone until we understand it better.”

  She puffs out her cheeks. “Okay. It’s a promise. But I need to research this, and we need to work together to try and tame this power. You gotta devote some time to it.”

  “Yeah, fine. Believe me, I want to understand it as much as you do.”

  “All right, I’ll clean up this mess and hide that broken microscope. You run along, but stop by here in the mornings or at lunchtime or whenever you can, and we’ll work on tweaking this thing ‘til it’s under control.”

  “Deal.” We shake hands, and she makes a sizzling noise like my hand just burned hers. I roll my eyes and leave, thinking I may get in a workout before lunch.

  Eve intercepts me before I get to the stairs, though. “Hey I’ve been looking for you. You wanna go to Virtual World with me today? They have a new werewolf adventure.”

  “What’s Virtual World?” I ask.

  “You never heard of it before? Oh man, It’s so great. You choose the fantasy you want to experience. You know, they have things like outer space and medieval times. Then you go in this chamber and put on this cool eye gear, and you have this whole realistic experience in a virtual world where you’re the hero in some epic story. It’s a real adrenaline milkshake.”

  “I don’t know Eve, I need to be somewhere this afternoon.”

  “It only takes a couple of hours. I’ll have you back right after lunchtime. I promise.”

  “Can we do it together?”

  “Yeah, that’s the fun part. We’ll be partners. I thought we’d be werewolf hunters. They’ll give us fake pistols and silver bullets and everything. I’ve been dying to try it. We’ll finally get a chance to use all that firearms training we’ve had. C’mon,” she coaxes.

  It does sound kind of cool, and it would be as good as a workout for getting rid of my nervous energy. “Okay, but I have to be back here by two so I can change for this tea I have to go to.”

  “No problem. We’ll take an air taxi home.”

  FORTY-ONE

  Eve and I have a blast playing werewolf hunters in an amazingly lifelike virtual environment. The werewolves are scary as hell—life-sized, mangy, monsters with fangs and claws. I swear they even smell like wolves. We have to dodge and run and even climb a tree to escape them. Eve bags a lot more of the bloodthirsty beasts than I do, but we both win trophies for being the high scorers of the week. As we’re leaving, a small group of teenagers approaches us and asks for autographs. We modestly consent. Then they ask for a little spontaneous shifting demonstration, which we artfully decline. This is a first for me, but Eve says it happens to most Transcenders at one time or another.

  The air taxi ride home is almost as much fun as the werewolf game. Soaring above the gleaming skyscrapers with their rooftop gardens, I gain an even greater appreciation for how beautiful the Emerald City is.

  Back home, I take a long shower and change. By the time I set foot out the front door of the Chateau, I’m having fresh misgivings about the wisdom of this meeting with Eleanor. There was a time, back in Domerica, when I felt meeting my mother’s mirror was nothing short of miraculous. But now, I worry that my heart’s just going to get broken one more time.

  The afternoon air is crisp and refreshing and helps to clear my mind. The short five-block walk to Eleanor’s neighborhood persuades me that it’s probably best for us to meet like this instead of leaving it to accident. Though my heart flutters as I round the corner onto her street.

  An unexpected but familiar wet nudge against my palm sends a wave of relief through me, and I turn to find sweet Callie behind me, eyes bright, tail wagging. “Hey, what are you doing here?” I sit on my heels and hug her. “Thanks for coming, girl. I need the moral support.”

  When we reach Eleanor’s home, I have to double-check the street number. The house looks like an old English cottage rather than the grand estate I expected. The exterior features an authentic thatched roof and giant leaded glass windows. Vining red and white flowers completely swallow up the low picket fence surrounding the property. A small wooden gate opens onto an uneven stone walkway. Callie and I climb the steps onto a wide, gray porch. The red front door is merrily welcoming.

  I knock tentatively, and after a moment, the door opens with a whoosh, and she’s there. I don’t have the urge to run into her arms, but I can’t hold back the smile of pure pleasure at the sight of her lovely smile. She wears a long, flowing dress of peach-colored linen. Wisps of hair frame her flushed and beaming face.

  “Jaden, it’s so good to meet you.” She holds out her hand and I shake it.

  “I see you’ve brought a friend,” she says, bending to pat Callie’s head. “Come in both of you.”

  “She’ll be happy to wait outside if you prefer.”

  “Nonsense. She’s welcome inside.”

  Callie and I step into the foyer. The interior of the house is as warm and inviting as the outside. Fresh flowers in mismatched vases sit atop nearly every flat surface, including the haphazard stacks of books propped against chairs and tucked into corners.

  “I’ve been working in the garden this morning,” she says. “I think flowers make everything so much more festive don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “I have tea laid out for us in the solarium. We are completely alone, as you requested. I normally have some housekeeping help, but I’ve given her the afternoon off.” She escorts us down a short hallway to the back of the house.

  The glassed-in room is bathed in afternoon sunlight. A cluttered desk sits near the back. Stacks of files cover the desktop and spill over onto nearby chairs and even the floor. The remainder of the room is taken up by a charming sitting area worthy of the faerie folk. Colorful
chintz-covered chairs and a matching couch are surrounded by potted plants of many sizes and shapes. A glass-topped coffee table with metal legs carved to look like tree branches sits atop a thick, flowered rug.

  “This is beautiful,” I say.

  “Thank you. It’s my favorite room. John grumbles about the cost of cooling and heating it, but we live rather modestly, so I allow myself this one extravagance.”

  Her reference to my father’s mirror answers one of my unspoken questions. She motions for me to have a seat in an overstuffed chair with a whimsical footstool in the shape of an elephant. It reminds me of a silly Fargen footstool Ryder and I received as a wedding present. Callie makes herself comfortable on the floor next to my chair.

  “Now, how do you like your tea?” she asks, perching on the edge of the couch.

  “Two sugars and a little milk, please.” I notice a glass door leading out into an extraordinarily lush garden. “Your roses are amazing. My mother used to grow roses too.”

  She passes a delicate teacup and saucer to me. “Isn’t that remarkable? I do love them. Please forgive me for not being completely educated on how this mirror thing works. You certainly do bear a remarkable resemblance to my late daughter, but in many ways you’re quite different.”

  That intrigues me. “How different?”

  “Oh, her life was very quiet, and she loved it that way. It revolved around her horses, riding students, and family. She rarely ventured outside her sphere of familiarity. You’ve lived a much larger and varied existence.” She pours tea for herself and drizzles some honey into her cup. “What about me? Do I resemble your late mother?”

  I bite my lip and study her. “Yes and no. I think the differences between you are more cultural than anything else. My mom had short hair, and she normally wore business suits. She was a very engaged mom, but she was usually kind of harried. Typically, mirrors are very much alike except for the way their unique life experiences have influenced them.”

  “I see. I find the whole thing rather fascinating, don’t you?” She settles back in her seat with her tea.

  “It can sometimes get confusing.” I sip my tea and gaze out at the garden, to avoid having to explain what I mean.

  She artfully changes the subject. “Well, I’m delighted that the IGC Court hearing is coming up soon. I’m very much looking forward to it.”

  “You’re coming?”

  “Yes, I thought I’d sit in the upper gallery. I don’t want my presence to be a distraction to any of the parties, including you. So, if you’d rather I didn’t …”

  “No, that’s fine. It won’t bother me.” I’m relatively certain that I’ll have bigger things to worry about at that point.

  She tilts toward me, her eyes twinkling with girlish excitement. “Please tell me all about yourself, Jaden. I understand you’ve had some remarkable experiences. What was it like being a queen?” She passes me a plate of assorted cookies.

  “Frightening but fun.” I say, taking two small lemon cookies and placing them on my saucer.

  “Did you have lots of wonderful things? Gowns, and servants, and private jets?”

  “The Domerican people are not as advanced technologically as we are. In fact, horseback is still the main mode of transportation there, so no fancy cars or jets, but I did have some extraordinary things. The clothes were beautiful beyond belief, and the palace was super-luxurious.”

  “How exciting. I have to say, I’m a bit envious. It must have been an incomparable experience. But I was terribly sorry to hear of your tragic loss. You’re so very young to be a widow.”

  “People in Domerica marry quite young. I suppose that’s part of being a less advanced society.”

  “Not necessarily,” she says. “Several years ago, the marriage rate in Arumel was at an all time low, as was the population growth. Our lawmakers thought it wise to provide some significant incentives for young people to marry and have children. It worked better than anyone anticipated. Not only did the rate of marriage increase appreciably, but the average age of newlyweds dropped dramatically. My son Drew is married and already has a small child at age twenty-one. My daughter was also married briefly before she died. She never got to meet her nephew, Jeremy.”

  I’m intrigued by the information that my mirror was married, but I don’t want to delve any further. The thought of Drew with a toddler makes me smile. “My brother Drew in Connecticut won’t be ready to be a daddy for years,” I tell her. “But his mirror in Domerica is married and will soon be a father also.”

  “Tell me about your family and your life in Connecticut. Is it terribly different there?”

  “Yes. The United States, on my earth at least, is fairly technologically advanced, but not like Arumel. And it will be some time before the people are ready to embrace the existence of beings from other planets or even relate to the fact that other dimensions exist. Religion and superstition keep many people from being open minded about such things.”

  She nibbles on a macaroon. “So living there is not an option for you?”

  “Not if I want to use my gift. These cookies are delicious, by the way.”

  “Thank you. Please have some more.” She slides the plate toward me. “And your father, what does he do?”

  “He’s a nurse in the cardiac unit of a local hospital. You already know my mom died a few years back. She was a judge. Dad’s been dating a real nice woman lately. I won’t be surprised if they decide to marry in the next year or two. My brother’s in college in North Carolina, and I imagine my dad’s kind of lonely without us.”

  Eleanor is easy to talk to, unpretentious and kind. She seems fascinated with the Transcenders, and I share some of my more remarkable stories with her. After a while, though, I steer the conversation away from me.

  “How long have you been on the Societal Commission?” I ask.

  “Oh goodness, it’s been twelve years now.”

  She explains that the commission deals with the major issues confronting Arumelans—healthcare, public safety, and quality of life. I have the impression that her calm wisdom and keen sense of justice make her well suited for the position.

  “I love my work,” she says. “But I’ve been increasingly troubled by the pervasive presence of IUGA in this country. Its actions are frequently detrimental to the public welfare, in my opinion. And it strikes me as unethical that its executive officers have grown extraordinarily rich using confidential information generated by the Agency. It makes no profit, per se, but I’m convinced that, in some cases, events have been manipulated to the advantage of its operators. Without more transparency, however, we have no way to prove it.”

  “I appreciate so much your willingness to file a brief on my behalf,” I say. “That’s so kind of you.”

  “It’s my pleasure. No one should be allowed to control the destiny of another. That is the antithesis of freedom. Your case is a perfect example of that.” She glances at my empty tea cup. “Would you care for more tea?”

  “No, two’s my limit.” I glance at my watch. “Callie and I had better be going. I still have a few things to do before dinner.” I stand and Callie jumps to her feet, tail wagging furiously.

  “Thank you so much for coming, Jaden. This was just delightful.”

  “Thank you for—”

  I’m interrupted when a small child darts into the room from the hallway. “Nana, Nana,” he cries.

  Eleanor scoops him up into her arms. Then she glances at me with worried eyes. “Jeremy, what a surprise. Did your father bring you?”

  “No, Unca Ry.”

  His meaning rockets to my brain, and my head whips around to the door at the same instant that Ryder’s form fills up the frame. His eyes meet mine, and within the space of two seconds his expression morphs from abject joy, to disbelief, to comprehension, to anguished pain—and finally, pure hatred. He turns abruptly and flees.

  The air is sucked from the room, and I crumple into the chair, my heart deadened by shock.

  Ele
anor sets her grandson on the floor, and he wobbles to Callie, giggling as she licks his face.

  “Oh god, Jaden, I’m so sorry. I had no idea Ryder was watching Jeremy today, or that they would come by unannounced. I thought it best not to even mention that he was my late daughter’s husband, since I’m aware of your reluctance to know about your family’s mirrors in Arumel. Are you all right?” She kneels next to my chair and takes my hand.

  “I’m fine,” I say, feeling as if someone just kicked me in the stomach. “Is there another way out of here? I don’t want to run into him.”