While the LDA campus was quiet and sleepy at that hour—just like at any other hour, really—the Kabarak was in full swing for the Quartermoon festivities as I passed over it. The Chimæra had been let out of their pens and were frolicking freely while the Kabarakians ringed around campfires in the dark, laughing and dancing and shooting off fireworks and waving sparklers. I knew that behind me, from Alwon to Tarakas, from deloon to the outer Territories, people would be celebrating until dawn.
But the sights and sounds of revelry diminished as I crossed the border into the city, where the Quartermoon holiday was observed with less enthusiasm.
One hand on the wheel, I removed my tunic and threw it on the passenger seat revealing the contraband Kalvaka T-shirt I was wearing underneath. I was still wearing what Devektra had called my pajama pants, but they really weren’t so bad without the tunic. Around my wrist, the bulk of Daxin’s ID band made a striking counterpoint to the rest of my ensemble.
All in all, I looked pretty good. Not that it even mattered that much how I looked. What mattered was that I’d gotten out.
My escape had gone so smoothly that I almost felt guilty. I’d made such quick fools of everyone at the LDA, none of whom had any reason to suspect that my changed attitude was due in large part to the planning and execution of this grand deception. But before I could succumb to guilt or regret, I was distracted by the Spires of Elkin on the horizon, which were lit up in pink by the mysterious column of light behind them. This time, I didn’t pay them any attention. I was almost there.
At the Chimæra, the ID band worked like a charm. No one even looked at me sideways as I glided in. I was almost offended. Had they forgotten me so quickly?
Maybe they just didn’t recognize me anymore. I felt more confident than ever, like a totally different person from the one who, at the first sign of trouble, had gone pushing through the crowd like a frightened little kid just a few weeks ago. It had hardly been any time at all, but I felt like I’d grown up so much since then.
The club was packed tonight, almost twice as busy as the last time I’d been here, which was saying something. Devektra’s appearance weeks ago had been a surprise, but this Quartermoon performance was well publicized, and it had attracted an even wider audience. I spotted homemade Devektra T-shirts on every fifth patron. The Chimæra was the largest club on Lorien by far, and she had filled it to capacity. I felt a surge of pride. I’d known that Devektra was a big deal and all, but I hadn’t known how big of a deal she was until now. And I knew her. You could almost even say we were friends.
“Well, well, well.” I turned to see Paxton and Teev, holding up half-finished ampules and staring at me with amused grins on their faces.
“Look who doesn’t give up,” Teev said, draping her arm around me in greeting. “After we saw you get busted last time, we figured we’d seen the last of you.”
I just shrugged and smiled my cagiest smile, and they looked at me, for the first time, as if they were actually sort of impressed.
I was just about to pat myself on the back for it when I heard a voice I recognized.
“Someone told me you might have found your way in here somehow.”
I turned around to see Mirkl, Devektra’s perpetually annoyed right-hand man, standing behind me with an ampule in each hand. He looked me up and down with predictably annoyed eyes.
“Hey, Mirkl,” I said, in the most casual tone I could muster. My heart was thumping in my chest, knowing that if Mirkl was talking to me I was one step closer to seeing Devektra again, but I played it cool for the benefit of Teev and Paxton. I wanted them to think it was no biggie for me to be on a first-name basis with a member of the headlining performer’s entourage. I snuck a glance in their direction, and saw that they were looking at me with stunned eyes. Mission accomplished.
“Devektra wants to see you,” he said.
As well as things had been going tonight, I still hadn’t expected it to be this easy. How had Devektra even known I was here?
Mirkl must have seen the surprise on my face. “Telepathy, remember? Neat little trick to have. I think you know where the dressing room is. Here—bring her these.” He pushed the ampules into my hands and began to walk away.
“You’re not coming in?” I asked after him, suddenly nervous about waltzing into Devektra’s dressing room unaccompanied. It seemed too good to be true. With Devektra you never knew what you were getting into.
He turned, looked over his shoulder and waved me off. “I’m on a break. Those ampules were my last errand for her until showtime.” He smiled wryly. “She’s all yours.” Then he disappeared into the crowd.
Devektra faced her reflection in the vanity mirror, her back to the door. She was wearing slim-fitting red metallic pants and a shimmering top made out of a liquid-like material that I’d never seen before. Her shirt flowed around the curves of her body in undulating cascades as she stood tall, stared straight ahead and gently massaged her temples with her fingers. She didn’t acknowledge me.
But she knew I was here—last time I’d been in this room, I’d had to bust through the entrance with all the strength I could muster. This time I hadn’t even had to knock. The door had just swung open for me as I’d approached it, clutching the ampules Mirkl had given me to deliver. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe Devektra had used her telekinesis to “help” me get through the locked door last time too.
It was ironic that I’d been more comfortable making my entrance breaking down a door and crashing through an entire rack of clothes than I was just walking right in. I just stood there, feeling a few steps beyond awkward as Devektra gazed at herself in the mirror and rubbed her forehead.
“Did you bring them?” she asked without turning.
“Yeah,” I said. I walked over and handed her an ampule. She took it, downed it in one gulp, then reached out for the second and downed that too. She still hadn’t bothered to look at me.
When she tossed the second spent vial aside and onto the floor, I understood what her deal was. I had to hold back a laugh. For once, I was the one who knew what she was thinking instead of the other way around. Or, at least, I knew what she was feeling. You didn’t need to be a telepath to figure it out.
“Wow. You’re actually nervous,” I said.
“So?” She finally turned her attention from the mirror and locked her gaze on mine. Her eyes were hard, but underneath the steel, I saw a hint of fear. Of vulnerability. “Who wouldn’t be?”
“You weren’t nervous last time,” I pointed out. “I didn’t know you got nervous. I kind of thought that was, like, your whole thing.”
“Last time was different.”
“Why?”
“It just was,” she said. “It was a smaller crowd. It wasn’t Quartermoon. It was just different. Plus, there’s just something about tonight. I don’t know. I sort of have a bad feeling I guess.”
“It’s just nerves,” I said.
“I know. I’ll be fine.”
Then it was like I wasn’t there anymore. Devektra’s attention was back on herself as she ran her fingers through her hair and gingerly began to pile it, one tendril at a time, on top of her head. Each carefully arranged lock somehow managed to stay perfectly in place. She looked more frightened than ever.
I didn’t know what to say, so I decided to try something else. I decided not to talk. Out loud, at least.
How does it work? I thought. Can you hear everything I think? What about the people outside? Can you hear them? What about the whole world? Can you hear them all?
Devektra’s lips didn’t move, but she answered me anyway, in a voice I heard inside my head that was both hers and not hers.
“It’s like standing waist-deep in a rushing river and trying to catch a million tiny floating leaves as they race past you. Some of them you catch. Most of them you don’t.”
You invited me here tonight, and summoned me back here. But why me? I wanted to know. Who am I to you? You’re Devektra. I’m a nobody in a green t
unic.
“No. You’re like me. You’re different. Neither of us fit in on this world. I knew it as soon as I met you. Before I met you, I knew.
“I sensed you out there in the crowd that first night. All those people and their thoughts all zooming past me. Except yours. Yours just bubbled up, and I could reach down and pull up each one, like every fear and hope you had was meant for me. It sounded like you were singing.”
But what about tonight? I had to know. Why am I here now?
“I knew you would make me feel less alone. Especially tonight. I can feel that something terrible is about to happen.”
I looked over. Devektra was staring at my reflection in the mirror. She had the strangest look on her face, both peaceful and surprised. Something told me that she’d never done this before, had never used her Legacy to speak to someone wordlessly like this.
I knew then, without understanding why, that this might be the only chance I ever got. So I leaned over, closed my eyes and kissed her. Her lips were soft and she smelled like something I recognized but couldn’t describe, even to myself. Her lips tasted like something I’d tasted in a dream, one of those dreams you forget as soon as you wake up. When I opened my eyes she was gone.
CHAPTER 9
“Deloon this time of year is miserable,” said the guy. “You couldn’t pay me all the money in the world.”
“No argument there, bro,” I said, even though I’d never been to Deloon. I truly didn’t want to argue.
I was on the balcony above the stage waiting with Mirkl and the rest of the entourage for Devektra’s performance to start. She was behind schedule, but most of the people on the balcony were pretty buzzed and no one seemed impatient, least of all me.
Instead, I just felt strange. I was lightheaded and euphoric. I didn’t know where Devektra had gone after she’d left me, but, even after her warning—something terrible is about to happen—I wasn’t worried about her. My brain was still buzzing, turning loops and cartwheels on itself.
Our kiss had been incredible. But it was the telepathic rapport that we’d shared that I was still reeling from. Speaking only with our minds, we’d managed to communicate on a level more pure—more real—than anything I’d ever experienced. No kiss could ever compare to that.
The lights finally came down on the club, and as they did, a spotlight, positioned stage center, took shape, a blindingly white oval. Every single person in the place gazed into the brightness, our breaths all held together, in anticipation of what was coming next.
Then came a sound, a thin, heartbreakingly fragile warble. It seemed to be coming from inside that small pool of light. As the warble grew in volume and intensity—never losing any of its beautiful fragility—the disc of the spotlight began to bend and twist, as if willing itself to break.
Where was Devektra? It sounded like she was somewhere inside that orb of light.
The light kept rising off the stage floor, and the voice contained inside it rose in pitch. It stopped, hovering in the exact center of the club, only yards away from where I stood at the edge of the mezzanine. It was so bright it hurt to look at, but I couldn’t pull away.
The volume and pitch rose and rose. Some members of the crowd plugged their ears from Devektra’s sonic drill. But still no one dared to look away from the ball of light.
Then it exploded.
Suddenly light was everywhere. There wasn’t a single shadow left anywhere in the usually shadowy club. People spun around, dazed, staring at their fellow concertgoers with new eyes. Every pore on every face was exposed, illuminated. The sound of Devektra’s voice had shattered too, into tiny cascading tinkles, equal in volume at any point with the club’s space.
“There she is,” said a voice in the crowd.
Devektra stood above the crowd. Her crowd. Not on the stage but on top of the bar near the entrance. The tinkling sounds evaporated from the air like smoke.
She had been throwing her voice—and shaping it into that orb of light—the entire time. All the while, no one had noticed she’d been somewhere else.
It was amazing. And she was only getting started.
Devektra stepped forward off the bar and walked through the crowd towards the stage. Under normal circumstances, people would have been clamoring and elbowing each other, rushing forward to get closer to the performer. But they stepped back to let her through, still in awe of what they’d just seen.
She began to sing. No microphone, no amplification, no Legacy-assisted manipulation. She just sang. No one in the audience made a sound. Her voice came through as clear as a bell.
This wasn’t one of her usual dance numbers. It was a simple song, and a sad one. I barely understood the words, but I knew that it was a song of love and loss. She stepped onto the stage without missing a beat, and then turned back to her audience, her eyes sparkling with tears.
I was rapt. I wondered what she was singing about. I couldn’t help wondering if she was singing about me.
I didn’t have to wonder, really. I knew. It was about me but it wasn’t. She was singing for me. The sadness at the heart of this song was bigger than any one or any two Loric: it was as big as the planet itself. It was a song for Lorien.
As entranced as I was, I jumped when I felt something vibrating at my wrist. I looked down in surprise, forgetting that I still wore Daxin’s ID band. It was rattling, buzzing urgently. I silenced it and turned back to the stage.
Devektra was still singing, her eyes closed.
The band vibrated again.
I pulled the ID band off to inspect it, to figure out why it was rattling so insistently. As I held it in both hands, the vibrating band tickling the bones of my fingers, I inspected the digital interface. The small rectangular screen was blinking, as was the single word, “Alert.”
Panic began to rise in my chest. Maybe Daxin had woken up, seen his missing ID band and triggered some kind of alarm. Maybe I’d been caught.
No. I knew somehow that the alert signaled something far worse than that. I thought of the control panel outside the club just weeks before, about the sorry state of the grid. I thought of Daxin in the Egg, behaving as if something was seriously wrong. I thought of the unexplained column of light. And I thought of the Elder Prophecy I’d been ignoring my whole life.
One day, a great threat will come . . .
And I thought of Devektra: “Something terrible is about to happen.” My knees went weak. I looked up to hear her finishing her beautiful song.
Devektra closed her mouth. The song ended. The crowd held its applause, fearful of breaking the spell.
And then the roof came down.
CHAPTER 10
Returning to consciousness, I took inventory.
Blackness.
Silence.
And—there it was—pain.
I forced myself up through the blackness, clutching blindly forward with my hands. I felt smashed stone, the wetness of my own blood in my palms, the acrid tang of smoke against my still sightless eyes.
Sound returned faster than vision. It was a ringing in my ears, the exact opposite of the hypnotic, unfettered emotion of Devektra’s music. This was concussive, earsplitting.
In agony, I clutched my head to force it out but the pain kept rising.
The club had been bombed.
Then more sound emerged through the tinnitus-like buzz.
Moaning. Screaming. Crying.
I turned my head left and right, trying to find a source of light, anything to help me figure out what had just happened.
That’s when I saw the fire, rising up the entrance wall, small but getting bigger.
It wasn’t until I tried to stand that I realized I was on the ground floor of the club, not on the mezzanine. I turned around and saw that the entire balcony had been knocked from its struts, smashed like a dropped dinner plate on the floor of the club.
No, I thought. No.
Not just on the floor of the club. On top of a mass of crushed concertgoers. They were alrea
dy dead.
The stage was intact, as was the other half of the dance floor that hadn’t gotten buried by the collapsing mezzanine. But the people there hadn’t been spared. The sheer force of the blast, in combination with the shrapnel from the shattered roof, had killed most of the audience members who hadn’t been crushed. Bodies littered the floor, while bloody and dazed survivors struggled to their feet from out of the sea of corpses.
My leg was stuck, wedged between two crushed stones. I feared it was broken, or worse. But I needed to get up.
Devektra, I thought. I needed to know she was okay.
I strained against the rubble, but it wouldn’t give. I looked around for something I could use to pull myself out.
That’s when I saw the guy I’d been talking to only minutes ago, the one who didn’t like Deloon this time of year. He was flat on the ground, the balcony a broken jigsaw beneath him. His eyes were wide open, his body eerily intact except for his jaw, which had been sheered clean off by shrapnel.
I turned away from the grisly sight, and felt a hand on my shoulder. Mirkl stood above me, a shocked look on his face and caked in dust but apparently unharmed by the explosion.
“Help?” he said.
In my confusion I froze, unable to decide if he was asking for help or offering it.
Mirkl didn’t wait for me to figure it out. He crouched down by my side and looked around, determining which rock to lift in order to free me. His slender arms looked weak, but when they found the chunk of rubble that trapped my leg, he pulled it away like it was nothing at all.
I stared down at my knee. It was bloody and bruised, but not broken. I was going to be okay.
Without knowing where I found the strength to do it, I stood up, first on my strong leg and then on my tingly weak one, wobbling on the uneven rubble beneath me. I turned to thank Mirkl. He had already disappeared into the mass of wailing, screaming and silent shell-shocked survivors.
I Am Number Four: The Lost Files: The Last Days of Lorien Page 6
