by Sarah Noffke
“You had another headache? When? Just now?” Every time he has a headache, afterwards he’s granted a skill briefly and each time it’s something different. Sometimes he’s telepathic for a minute. Sometimes he’s clairvoyant. Sometimes he’s simply fatigued.
He nods. “Earlier. I rushed through the Valley trying to find you.”
I step up on my tiptoes. Slide the back of my hand across his stubbled cheek. “Are you okay?”
He reaches for my hand and brings it to his mouth. Kisses it once and nods. “Yes, I’m fine. But I knew I shouldn’t have let you go this morning,” he says, his words weighted with regret.
“Rogue, there was no way to know who I would encounter.”
“I knew though,” he says, a strict edge to his voice. “I’d seen it, but I ignored it.”
“What? But you said you just had the headache, that you just had the premonition.”
“Yes, and I sometimes have repeats. I’d seen the image of you burning your father a week ago, but I thought maybe it was wrong or it would change. Premonitions often shift or don’t happen at all. The future is pliable.”
“So that’s why you told me this morning to protect myself if the need arose?”
“Em, I know you don’t want me running around protecting you, but damn it, I didn’t want to let you leave.” He stands back and looks me over. “Are you really all right?”
“I’m fine, better now, thanks to Zack.” And as if on cue Zack trudges down the staircase.
“Oh, thank the gods for you, brother,” Rogue says, clapping Zack on the back and pulling him in for a hug when he’s down the stairs.
Zack smiles at me over Rogue’s shoulder, returning the slap on Rogue’s back. “I’m happy that I could get here when I did.”
“How did you know she’d come here?” Rogue asks like I’m not standing right here. He has a curious interest on his face.
“I didn’t have a premonition about it,” he says with a forced smile. “I just guessed.” Then he turns and strides down the hallway away from us.
“Rogue?” I say, gaining his attention at once.
He runs his hands through his overworked hair and gives me a sideways look. It’s in response to the skeptical glare I’m giving him. “What?” Rogue asks.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
He grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room. With an unusually serious focus in his eyes, he points at the sofa, indicating where he wants me to sit.
I plant my hands on my hips and face him, a mini standoff.
Rogue sighs and a hint of smile flicks to his mouth. “Oh, would you sit so I can explain already?”
I search him, making note of his tensed shoulders and pinched mouth. There’s not only something he wants to tell me, but also something he’s hiding. However, I’ve always appreciated that enigmatic part of Rogue. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to know all his secrets. He always surprises me and most of the time in the best ways. “Fine,” I acquiesce. I plop down on the couch and regard Rogue with a new curiosity. He isn’t the confrontational type. He’s the type to change the subject and find something random to laugh about.
Instead of taking the seat next to me, he bends down. His knee pops when he squats, but he doesn’t pay it a bit of attention, instead he leans forward and captures both my hands. If he didn’t have my attention before he does now.
“Em, do you remember how I saw a glimpse of what was going to happen in the labs?” Rogue asks.
“I remember that you wouldn’t tell me, and made me figure it out on my own,” I say, pulling my hands from his grasp and crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“Well, there’s a good reason I didn’t tell you about the labs.”
“Is it the same reason you didn’t tell me about burning my father?”
He nods. “The very same.”
I try to give him a scrutinizing look, but I fear it looks more like I’m suppressing a silly grin. “Okay, come off with it. Why are you keeping these premonitions secret?”
“Because knowing the future is a curse, Em,” he says, his eyes falling down to his bent knee. “It usually causes me to feel debilitated because I don’t want that reality to happen, but the irony is that the avoidance usually creates it. I don’t want you to live like that. Knowing the future is a burden. If I told you that you’d run into your father today then you’d go to great lengths to avoid him and that would probably cause you to run straight into him.”
A new weight hits my chest. Rogue’s concern for me is beautiful and also makes me feel fragile, like acting freely could somehow harm him—a thing I’d never do. “You don’t know that though,” I finally say, after deliberating on the idea. “Maybe if you would have told me I would have stayed at the camp. Maybe I wouldn’t have ever run into him.”
He shakes his head and brings heavy eyes up to meet mine. “There’s no way to know that and I’m guessing you’re wrong. I’m telling you this because since I’ve gotten the premonitions after the headaches I’ve tried to avoid futures, but it rarely happens. Fate has a way of finding us even when we hide.”
I should have guessed that Rogue did this to save me. To help me. I trace my eyes over his broad shoulders, his arms and elbows resting on his knees. “Come sit, would you?”
“This is my ‘I’m trying to convince Em’ stance. Am I done? Are you all convinced?” Rogue says, a smile I needed to see grazing his face.
I yank him forward. “Get over here.”
He takes the place beside me and instantly I’m curled at his side. After several seconds of silence he says, “Tell me what happened.”
I flip my head up and dare to smile. The first one since everything happened. “You already know, Mr. Visions-of-the-Future.”
“I prefer ‘Captain,’” he says, clapping a hand on the one I have resting on his leg.
“When have you been on a ship?”
“Oh, I haven’t told you that story yet?”
“Rogue,” I warn, with a smile in my voice.
“Okay, ‘Mister’ is fine, but tell me what happened. All I saw was when you leeched Dee and shot fire at your father.”
I slide down low, suddenly needing to bury my head in the closet again. “What else is there to know? I can’t believe you saw that and even want to sit beside me right now.”
Rogue sits up suddenly, bumping me off his lap. But then he grabs my forearm and pulls it into him. “What? You think I’d see that and feel something negative about you?”
I stare into his eyes and almost can’t hold his pensive gaze. Finally I shrug weakly.
“Em, you’re ridiculous. I’m not sure what ideas you’ve concocted in your beautiful crazy brain, but there’s nothing wrong with what you did. Everything you do, everything I see you do in person or in a premonition, makes me love you more.”
“But what have I done to my own father?”
“Nothing worse than he ever did to you. And that’s not to mean you even did it as retribution, but only that you were defending yourself.”
“But it was Dee attacking me.”
“I saw the part before you attacked him,” Rogue says, pulling me in close to him again, not satisfied with any distance between us. “I know he ordered her to kill you.”
My head slings down until my chin rests on my chest. Being at war with my family is by far the worst. Finally I look at him. “Rogue, Dee is dangerous. There was something wrong in her. Something worse than usual. Like she has a plan, and wants to use it to her own advantage. She’s going to use Zack. That’s what I fear.”
Rogue shakes his head, gripping my hand with a tenacious spirit. “You can’t allow that. You have to stop her.”
“Me? Why me? How would I do that?”
“Well, we have to protect him. That’s what I meant to say,” Rogue says, running his fingers over mine.
I fear that’s not what he meant to say, but I stay pinned on his mouth and his next words anyway. “Zack is playing a st
rategic game, and more than anything we need to make sure that he’s careful,” Rogue says. “I think he believes he needs her to play this game, but I fear he’s wrong. Dee isn’t the key to his success nor the key to the success of this rebellion.”
“Then what is?”
A smile turns his lips up. Again I’m gifted with the view of his too-straight top teeth and his perfectly crooked bottom teeth. “Who, is what you mean.”
“Rogue,” I say, a sturdy warning in my voice. “Did you learn something about this from a premonition? What do you know?”
He slides in closer to me, urging my head over so it lies on his shoulder. “Nothing, babe. Nothing of importance. Just stupid details. And my instinct, not a premonition, tells me that Dee isn’t worth the trouble. She’s a loose wire, and has proven that today.”
“He thinks she can help him gain favor with my father, which will give him advantages he can use in the rebellion.”
Rogue blows out a long breath through his mouth. “Well, I think Zack does need someone to help him find his footing in this rebellion.”
“Like Ren or Parker or Nona?” I ask, my voice mostly speaking into his chest.
“Yes, exactly,” Rogue says, a new enthusiasm in his voice. “Like an ally.”
“Hmmm,” I say, enjoying Rogue’s warmth, sucking it in as I speak. “I thought we were his allies.”
“We are, but right now he’s not involved enough. He needs a stronger role in this rebellion. One that puts him in a position of power.”
I flip my head up and offer him a skeptical glare. “These don’t sound like stupid details. Tell me what else you know.”
He shifts his eyes so he’s looking down at me. Puckers his mouth. “What I know is that Dee can’t be a part of his future. She’s too lethal for him and our cause, and there aren’t enough benefits to his involvement with her.”
“Then why don’t you tell him that?”
Rogue squeezes me into him. “Sometimes you can’t tell people things because you know they won’t hear you.”
“So what do you do?”
“Plant seeds.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eating isn’t really something I’m doing much of lately. Nevertheless I manage to robotically chew up some crackers and wash them down with a glass of water. And I only forced down that food after Rogue berated me for the better part of an hour.
“Happy?” I say, shoving the crackers back across the granite countertop.
“Incredibly so, but it has nothing to do with you finally eating, and everything to do with just you,” Rogue says, with a wink.
With my palms planted on the countertop behind me, I pull myself up backwards and sit. The entire time my eyes stay pinned on Rogue. “So does that mean you’ll do anything to keep me happy?”
He angles his chin down and regards me under hooded eyes. “I won’t see Dr. Parker, but just about anything else.”
“He knows why you get the headaches though,” I say, extending a hand out to Rogue.
Without needing further encouragement he takes the three steps that divide us and grabs my hand, directing it around his shoulder. “Because the injections I received were taken from newborns? Too potent of a formula?”
My mouth drops. “How’d you know that?”
“Good guess.”
Sometimes Rogue is mysterious in his brilliance, suspiciously so. I wrap my feet around his legs, encouraging him closer. “I’m going to keep my word and not argue with you about the headaches and Parker, but please note that he has been researching it and might be able to find a solution.”
“I’m sure he thinks so,” Rogue says, daring to flaunt a sideways smile at me. He glides his hands around my waist and pulls me an inch further, closer to him.
“You know what I miss?” I ask, watching his studious eyes appraise me.
“What’s that?”
“Your house. Athena and Poseidon. And of course, my goat, Jasmine.”
“Our house,” Rogue corrects, his breath warm against my skin. My eyes, which had been studying his neck, slide up to meet his.
“No, Rogue,” I protest. “You built that house. That farm. I’m merely a useless farmhand.”
“Our house,” he repeats, pushing in closer to me. “Yours and mine.”
I minutely shake my head.
“We live there together, don’t we?” Rogue’s so close, I can see the individual whiskers on his chin and that’s where my eyes focus right now.
I’m forced to nod my head to his question.
“Well, then it’s settled,” he says, a triumphant smile stretching his mouth wide.
With my hands tucked behind his neck, I encourage him down. He slides his nose against mine and then his lips across my mouth. With a greedy laugh I wrap my legs more firmly around his jeans. I lean back, bringing Rogue with me, until my head finds the cabinet. One of his strong hands pins my back, keeping me protected from the various kitchen appliances. The other one tangles into my hair at the base of my neck, pulling me into him as he kisses me harder. We’re running out of space on the narrow countertop, but I’m only half aware of it and definitely not concerned enough to stop. And then from my peripheral I catch the kitchen door swing open. The sound of footsteps halts swiftly.
Rogue straightens before I do, pulling me to a proper sitting position as he does. He spins to face Zack, putting his back to me. Zack is in the process of turning around, his eyes low, when Rogue says, “Hey, brother. Don’t go.”
“No problem,” Zack says, holding the door open. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Not at all,” Rogue says, that cool confidence always in his tone. He seems to be trying to relax Zack, who’s obviously uncomfortable by walking in just now. I don’t blame him. My cheeks are red with embarrassment, but thankfully I’m hiding my face behind Rogue.
“What you got there?” Rogue asks, pointing at the object in Zack’s hand by his side.
“Em’s book,” he says, tossing it on the countertop.
“Oh, that’s right,” I say, finding my voice. I push Rogue to the side and slide off the counter. I’m anxious to actually read through the Metamorphoses book and find out why my sisters and I are named after the Parcae. I’d also love to know why Ren thinks it’s so entertaining. “Thank you,” I add, scooping the leather-bound book into my hand. “I’m sorry that you had to cover for me to Dee. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Anytime,” Zack says, almost defeated. Maybe he’s just tired. I wish he’d stop protecting me. He’s been trying to do it all our lives and never can I remember returning the favor. I’m starting to feel indebted to him without any way to pay up.
“Have you eaten recently?” Rogue asks Zack.
“When did you turn into a mother hen?” I ask, turning and giving him a playful grin.
“It’s my job to take care of you two, otherwise I fear you’d both waste away.” He grabs the package of crackers off the countertop and throws them at Zack, who catches them looking half surprised. “I think I’m the only one amongst us governed by my stomach.”
“Thanks,” Zack says, holding up the sleeve of crackers and taking one.
“Well, they are your crackers, so thank you. By the way, man, you really need some food in your fridge,” Rogue says.
“Yeah,” Zack says, eyeing the cracker and then dropping it back into the package. “But I refuse to hire a Middling, which puts me at a serious disadvantage since I can’t cook.”
I peel open Metamorphoses and begin to leaf through, enjoying the easy conversation between Rogue and Zack. For me it’s like the sound of nature, calming. A securing sound that fills me with a homey warmth. There aren’t two guys I love more than the ones in this room right now. And I’m certain there can’t be better ones out in the world. They’re individually perfect. Again and again I’m struck with how surreal it is to be back with Zack after being separated. And to be in Zack’s house with Rogue is infinitely more bizarre. Zack has a house. And Rogue is aliv
e, not dead. In only three months everything in my life has turned inside out, flipped upside down, and enlarged. It’s becoming increasingly strange to be back in Austin Valley, and then also to look over and see Rogue’s always present smile. All my realities are mixing into one and if my life wasn’t so chaotic, I’d actually be enjoying this.
I thumb through too many pages that don’t pertain to the Parcae. And then a flash of a neon green note catches my attention. A bookmark of sorts. On it is tight, compact handwriting. Ren’s, I’m guessing. He has the note sitting right under a paragraph referencing the Parcae. I catch the word at once and scan the paragraph, but without context it doesn’t mean much to me. Finally, I read Ren’s note, which is disorganized, with things scratched out and random scribblings. But at the bottom is a sentence that grabs my attention. Makes my breath still. Freezes my movement. Even Zack, who stands nearby, pauses and regards me with concern.
“What is it, Em?”
I don’t answer; instead I run my eyes over and over the words Ren wrote.
Even the gods feared the Parcae.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
For the next hour we discuss what Ren’s words could mean. None of us are willing to take them literally, especially since he’s non-Reverian. All my life I’ve been taught that the gods created humans. They gifted Dream Travelers with their gifts and bestowed the responsibility upon us to protect Middlings. They have the power to take and give and punish. Engrained in me is the belief that nothing and no one is more powerful than the gods. And therefore, it’s ludicrous to believe the gods would fear three teenage girls.
“Well, Ren is simply noting that the gods feared the Parcae in the book, right?” Zack says, like he’s pieced something together in his head.
“Yes,” I say, my forehead wrinkling as I try to follow his reasoning.
“And you three were somehow named after the three sisters who make up the Parcae?” he asks.
“Right,” I say, slowly, deliberately.
His eyes look without seeing, that contemplative expression all too present on his face.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, curious to know what the wheels in his head are spinning about.
