by Iyanna Orr
“He’s not going to die!”
“He just wants to know if you will grant us permission to use the power room,” Damian hurriedly corrected Chandler. The smile he gave Gideon was tight with distrust. He knew they couldn’t afford to make Gideon angry. The man himself was already beginning to smirk when he turned his eyes to meet Chandler’s. Now, Gideon had enough courage befitting an army because he would hold this over Chandler’s head until he could find a legal way to send him elsewhere.
“Even if I did give you permission to the power room, it is at least a mile and a half away. He could die before you get there.”
“And if he does, it’ll be on you. That’s when I’ll kill you.”
“Chandler,” Max barked sharply. Damian said nothing as his eyes stayed on Gideon. The latter’s lips curled into a smirk, and Chandler had to restrain himself from throwing himself at Gideon.
“When he dies,” Gideon replied. “It will be on nobody but you, Chandler Dixon. At that time, you will be banished by the laws of Monsil.”
“What laws?” Max erupted. She took steps forward from the doorway of the kitchen. “The rules were destroyed the moment that two-faced, nettlesome prat destroyed my home! Even before then, the rules were made only by power hungry parasites like you!”
Gideon took an angry step inside. Chandler was up off the floor in just a second. Shoving Damian out of the way, his fingers curled into claws and wrapped themselves around Gideon’s throat. He pulled the man inside fully and slammed him against the wall, feeling the room shake and debris fall from the ceiling. Irate at being contained for so long, Chandler’s wings tore themselves from the shirt that covered them and spread wide. He felt himself claiming this territory, but Gideon had met his eyes again. There was a challenge in them as Chandler squeezed the breath from his lungs; the life from his body. Gideon’s eyes widened and then closed again as the air loss began to affect him. His hands finally came up to tear at Chandler’s, attempting to force him to let go. His face went red, and Chandler waited for the moment his struggles would die away.
Instantly, Chandler was brought to his knees as pain laced up and down his spine. His hands released Gideon as he stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. My breaths were shallow, pulsating from him in bursts. It took him a moment to get his bearings and realize the pain was coming from his wings — again. It faded slowly, but it was gone, enough for Chandler to turn around, and see it was Rory standing behind him and guiltily holding one of the tiny feathers from Chandler’s wing between his fingers. His gaze snapped to glare, and Chandler bared his teeth at Rory.
Rory took a step back, sucking in a breath as he dropped the feather to the ground and held his hands up in a surrendering motion. But Chandler’s eyes only left him when Max stepped into view and crossed her arms. The look on her face said he deserved what he’d gotten. Chandler shoved past her, ignoring the indignant sound that came from her as Damian caught her after she stumbled. As he went, Chandler tucked his wings protectively against his back. When he came across Nimue and Claudia in a hallway, he instinctively shied away and kept his back turned away from them. Claudia looked ready to ask what was wrong, but Nimue drew her attention back to whatever conversation they’d been having.
Chandler entered the library and immediately began pacing up and down the long rows of books. He hadn’t looked through the titles since they’d arrived, but as he passed, he could picture them and the strange symbols of the Monsilian language. And he was almost back to the front of the library when the footsteps started coming in his direction.
“What were you going to do to him?” Damian asked. His voice carried from the ground up to Chandler where he perched on something a dark ledge. He was hidden in the darkness of the ceiling shadows of the library but could see Damian clearly in the glow of the light coming in through the window opening in the wall. “How long would it take for the rest of the city to find out?”
“I don’t know. You’ve lived here longer than I have. You tell me.”
“It’s not unusual for you to be angry,” Damian continued. “I may not have been around long enough to know every one of your prophecies, Chandler, but I do know anybody carrying the burden you do eventually have to let go of all that feeling. You deserve the same opportunity to let it out, but you can’t take it out on the people around you.” Chandler glared down at Damian as he sat in one of the armchairs next to a bookcase. He stared into the fireplace instead of looking up.
“When our home was destroyed, we were angry too. There’s no way to describe the loss you feel when everything is taken from you, and you have nobody to turn to.” Chandler leaned his head against the wall and stared deeper into the ceiling. His mind drifted to the moment be found out his parents had been murdered and replaced. He didn’t even have words for what it felt like to lose them because he hadn’t felt anything. Nothing in him called for revenge, unlike what the Monsilian people must have felt. “We had to stay topsoil for months before we were able to use our magic and create this place. At the time, our leaders were all believed to be dead, and a lot of families had disappeared after the attack. Claudia and I searched for the twins long after we’d moved down here. In our desperation, we took in anybody just to give ourselves some justification for letting their father down. We couldn’t find any sign of them, and eventually, we gave up, but it was Claudia who always knew they were alive. She never gave up, and she never let me give up either.
“You’re the reason they’ve come back here, you know. I knew it the moment they were dragged from that cell to face Gideon. They weren’t fighting for themselves but for something else entirely. Max was always strong, but it showed in the trust she blindly gave you. It was a surprise when Michael stood by her side and defended you. He always had trouble picking sides and conforming to the way we live here.”
“He only believes in me because Max does.” Chandler’s voice was rough, but he cleared his throat and shook out the stiffness in his limbs. “They look after each other.”
“I don’t doubt it. Landing on Earth couldn’t have been easy for them. They’d always heard the stories about the planet, but to be instantly faced with living there for the rest of their lives would have been completely impossible,” Damian sighed. “But they only had each other before they landed there. Their father was a faithful servant of the planet, and he dedicated his life to making sure the people got what they deserved.”
“Then how did someone like Gideon end up in charge?”
“He was the only Elder left afterward,” Damian said. “The people were looking for someone to give them direction, and he came forward. I wouldn’t be too hard on him. He has created a way for us to live.”
“Max doesn’t agree with that,” Chandler denied. “What she told me about the so-called council is exactly what I see now. He’s not helping anything. He’s controlling it.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The power room. Who locks the only room in the city that lets the Monsilian people be themselves? Think about it. He’s the only one with access to the building without permission. Gideon doesn’t want anything but power, and everyone is handing it to him on a silver platter.” Chandler scoffed. “I could’ve stayed on Earth if this is what the rest of the non-human population is like.”
“Without the life of Monsil, there are no prophesies to be delivered. We are a useless population of people right now. We bordered on extinction, so we’re desperate. If Gideon is giving us the farce of significance, it’s going to be accepted.”
Damian stood up from his seat and walked away. He was fighting the denial. Chandler could already hear it in his voice. He didn’t believe a word of what he was saying, and neither did Chandler.
That night, Max didn’t stay inside. She was carrying a black bag, and Chandler could see the tense set of her shoulders as she went out the door. The bucket of ice that sat in front of him was intended for the rags that were buried between them, but as she disappeared from his view, C
handler turned Michael onto his back. Carefully keeping from bothering the wound or its brand new wrapping, he laid the biggest of the rags over it and placed the ice onto it. The rag slowly froze, but Chandler still growled with impatience as he threw the second on top. To keep the makeshift ice pad on the wound, he threw a heavy blanket over it.
Then he was out the door and going after her. Max already had something of a head start, but it only took a few minutes of flight to find her making her way quickly along the streets. Chandler perched on a chandelier, watching her until she disappeared around a building. Jumping from fixture to fixture, he followed her until he realized where she was going. He was suddenly focused as he watched her approach what looked like the doors to the power room. Another jump and he was right there, feeling something like electrical wavelengths beat against his skin. Chandler shivered as it ran over him, eyes closing involuntarily as an adrenaline rush surged through him. His body wanted to be moving, but he knew he had to stay. He forced his eyes opened and watched her.
She dropped the bag to the ground and unzipped it. Out of it, she pulled the book. Chandler started and held tighter to the chandelier. She tried to open it, but it stayed shut fast. She growled in frustration and threw the book at the white building, casting a darkness that didn’t seem to last against it. The book bounced to the ground and settled there, the title face up. She stood there for a moment until she dropped down and pressed her head against the wall of the building. At the contact, her hair began to glow. Her eyes were squeezed closed, but Chandler had no doubt that if they were open, he would see the beams glowing on the ground. Finally giving in, he dropped to the ground and walked toward her.
Max’s head snapped around, and her eyes landed on Chandler. They were glowing, but what was in them made him stop where he was. The anguish there was surprising, considering how strong she’d been so far. Her tears were dim without the lights of the chandeliers above, but her eyes illuminated the road.
“He’s all I’ve got,” was all she said before she picked up and held it in his direction. Chandler knew he should take it, but held back.
“What if it doesn’t work?” he asked her.
“What if it does?”
Chandler didn’t wait for Max as he flew back to Damian’s. His mind was back there and in front of him all at the same time. His breaths were hurried and pulsed in the air as the Petersen’s house came into view. His eyes stayed intent on the building until he had to dodge around a chandelier hanging in his path. Chandler cursed and grabbed hold of it, swinging around it until he landed with his feet on the thick metal handles, facing the house.
Running footsteps echoed in his ears, and he looked down at the ground, catching sight of Max about a mile away. He’d abandoned her, along with the book, back at the power building. He’d hoped, on some subconscious level, that she would have grabbed it. As his eyes zoned in on her, Chandler saw that she did have the bag that she carried the book in. He only could hope that she had the book as well. While she drew closer, he dropped from the chandelier onto the ground.
She stopped near him, breathing deeply, and in her eyes was a question she didn’t want to ask. Chandler shook his head at her, signaling that he hadn’t gone inside yet. Max turned away from him and locked eyes on Damian’s house. Neither of them wanted to be the first to enter if only to confirm or deny what they hoped. Without looking at her, Chandler knew her eyes had closed, and she collapsed to the ground, her forehead nearly touching the dirt.
Then Chandler’s ears caught a sound, and he desperately wanted to admit he’d heard it, but he didn’t move. He stood where he was, barely listening to Max whispering something into the ground, knowing he wouldn’t understand it, anyway. Other sounds came from inside, too low for Max to hear. Chandler listened harder, pressing his senses to the limit as he heard more footsteps enter the family room of Damian’s house.
A scream erupted from inside. Max was off her feet and running inside even before the terror settled in his throat. Chandler stumbled away from the house but couldn’t bring himself to move further. Lights came on inside, and shadows alerted Chandler to the rest of the occupants moving into the room. He counted them carefully and waited with bated breath for someone to come out and tell him Michael was dead. If that were the case, then he wouldn’t have to be banished. Chandler would willingly leave this planet and never come back.
Someone did appear in the doorway, but everything in him stopped short when he saw the grin on his face. Rory called out for him to come inside. His feet moved until he was running, eager to see.
Chandler stopped just inside the door and stared at Michael sitting up on the couch, pushing away the damp cloths and blanket from his stomach. He was looking down at himself, and confusion was pulling his brows low over his eyes when he looked up. His eyes met Max’s first, and something passed between them. After that, Michael grew stronger, standing from the couch and stretching until Claudia gathered him closely against her. Tears immediately began landing on Michael’s skin, and Chandler felt a gaze rest on him. Turning slightly, Damian was looking at him with something like fascination. Chandler shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, looking down at the floor.
“How did you do it?” Damian asked, anyway. Whatever conversation Michael and Max had started abruptly ended, and nobody even breathed as they turned to look at Chandler. Max was smiling, clasping her brother’s hand tightly in her own.
“It’s not like I just used magic anywhere,” he said. “We went to the power building.” Damian’s eyes widened even more.
“You got in?”
“No!” Chandler objected sharply. “We were outside.”
“I went there because I thought if the building were so powerful, then it would surely excrete some magical energy if only to keep the balance,” Max jumped in, explaining. Chandler sagged against the doorway and turned his head out. Above, the chandeliers were dim, imitating the sun rising over them. He looked on as the city began to light itself. “I figured that Monsil gave us magic when we were of age because it couldn’t hold all of it, so I thought the same of the building. But when I got there, I didn’t feel anything. There was no magic coming from it, but I knew some kind of magic was—”
“What do you mean there was no magic?” Chandler snapped, turning his head to narrow his gaze on her. Movement had started outside, and he could feel curious eyes on him, but he ignored it. “There was plenty of it.”
“Not for me, there wasn’t, but there was enough to get to the book,” Max said. A scowl turned up her mouth as she took in Chandler’s tone. “Why do you think I couldn’t open it?” He glared at her until she sighed in disgust and yanked open the black bag she still carried. She opened it and pulled out the book, immediately opening it to a page. Chandler’s scowl faded as he remembered her struggle to open the cover. “Do you see now? He felt the power, and he could use it,” Max explained to the others. The excitement was in her eyes, but Chandler certainly wasn’t feeling it. “Like Monsil meant for its people to have power, that building wants Chandler to have what it’s giving.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Claudia argued.
“Yes, it does,” Michael finally spoke. He started to move and then seemed to be gripped by a phantom pain. He stopped moving and raised his hand to where the wound had been. He grimaced to himself and then moved again, toward Chandler. He turned to face the rest of the people in the room. “This planet, before it died, had been getting the prophecies that decided Chandler’s fate. For a long time, Monsil knew Chandler better than it knew people who were born here. When it died, it probably knew that eventually Chandler would come back and he would need something to help him defeat Drake.”
“Its final act of revenge,” Max murmured. Her hands splayed over the dirt, and a small smile surfaced. “Monsil is still fighting.”
“Are you out of your minds?”
Michael and Max stood across the table, looking down at Chandler as he continued to read the book. His hand
stilled on the page he was about to turn and hung in the air as the page dropped. There was absolute silence in the house, as Damian had taken his wife and daughter out, and Rory was in the library, reading about the planets and dimensions. Max looked plainly offended as the question escaped Chandler, but a grin worked its way over Michael’s features.
“Of course not,” Michael answered, laughter in his voice.
“You must be,” Chandler answered, dropping his hand down on the table. “Because it’s not going to happen.”
“Chandler, you need this,” Max interjected as Michael started to speak. “There could be instances when having powers just does not work and then what would you rely on? Your power is strong, but who knows if it can even match Drake’s? You may have no choice but to use brute force when you face Drake.”
“You say it like it might actually happen. As far as the last three millennia are concerned, I’m going to die. I refuse to accept that, but I also refuse to kill anybody when none of this means anything to me! I will find a different way out of this.”
“There is no other way out, Chandler,” Max replied. “Whether you want it to or not, the prophecy will come to pass. It is entirely up to you if you live or die by the end of it.”
Chandler gave Max one last glance of withering reproach and left the room. He ignored them the best he could until the quake started.
It was two days later; Rory was sleeping, and Chandler had stayed up to look through the Bestiary. At first, it was nothing more than a quiver in the air. He didn’t realize exactly what was happening and lifted his head, observing the walls and floor of the library. The world was wavering as if he was seeing it through the heat of a fire. Chandler’s head rose to gaze at the dark ceiling as dust and debris began to fall. He was making his way to his feet when Damian came running into the library and yanked Rory up from his sleeping position. He woke up immediately, eyes snapping as he shook a light dusting of dirt from his face. Damian barely glanced at Chandler, but he already knew he needed to follow.
