by T. C. Edge
“Well, I guess it’s because they can read thoughts and emotion in others. Perhaps they become better at mimicking it, or begin to understand it more than the rest of their kind. Think about our mother, Brie. It makes sense, right? Haven’t you wondered how she and our father fell in love? Enough to break the law and put their lives at risk.”
“Of course I have,” I tell him.
“Then you have your answer right there. She must have been more emotional than others. She must have felt love of our father, for us. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
I guess he’s right. It’s nice to know that he’s put thought into it as well. Last time I saw him, he appeared to have put to bed any interest in finding out more about them. Perhaps he wasn’t being entirely truthful.
“Do you know his name?” My voice echoes across the cavern, joining the frothing roar of the tumbling waterfall. “Our father, I mean…”
In the darkness, I see his eyes draw together. He doesn’t. I can tell. I can sense it.
“It was Maxwell,” I say.
My words are swallowed by the noise. He falls silent for a moment of personal reflection.
“A strong name,” he says. “How did you find out?”
“Mrs Carmichael knew him. Your guardian must have too.”
“Linda,” he says, reminding me of her name. “Yeah, she would have done. But…she died before I ever found out about him. All I know is what I worked out for myself from the picture.”
A feel more questions bubbling, as they always do. There’s a constant flow of them, cascading like the water ahead of me. I suppose that will never change until I get used to all of this. It’s only been a week or two since my world began to morph so radically.
Zander can sense it too. Sense the multitude of questions lining up on my tongue. If they’re given a chance to flow, we’ll be here all night. He needs to plug that hole before it rips right open.
So he does so, changing the subject and drawing me further along the edge of the pool towards the rushing waterfall.
We move towards the back, where the water gallops from above, and Zander leads me through a small opening in the rock and behind the falling torrent into a cave hidden at its rear. Inside, it’s strangely calm, the water distorting any view into the main portion of the cavern beyond.
“Right. So…we’re here why exactly?”
“To test you,” he answers. “Your abilities are developing fast. Let’s find out how fast. Come over here.”
He walks right up to the wall of water, dancing and undulating in front of us before crashing into the pool.
“I want you to reach through to the other side,” he says.
“Um…that’s all? Easy…”
I prepare to thrust my arm into the water, but he holds it back.
“I haven’t finished.”
“Oh.”
“I want you to reach through to the other side…without getting your arm wet.”
I stare at him blankly. He’s got to be kidding.
“You don’t think it’s possible? Even after all you’ve seen?”
“For me? Absolutely not! Do you have any idea how much my muscles are aching right now?”
“I can probably imagine. I’ve been there before, remember. There’s no harm in trying, Brie. Look, just do this…”
In a flash, he lifts his arm and sends it in and out of the waterfall. I prepare to look upon his drenched limb with triumph.
But his sleeve is bone dry.
I reach out and touch it to make sure. Yep. Dry as a bone.
“No way, Zander. I didn’t even see it. Are you sure you put your arm through?”
“Fairly sure.”
“OK, do it again.”
He shrugs and turns to the waterfall again. For a second he examines it, taking careful note of the flow of water and the minor gaps that appear on occasion. Then, once more, his arm zips in and out like a speeding bullet.
This time, focusing hard, I see it play out a little more clearly.
“Believe me now?” he asks.
I settle my fingers on his sleeve again for total confirmation.
“How…did you do that?”
“It’s a simple combination of your Hawk and Dasher abilities. You watch the water for breaks, then rush your arm in and out when you find one that’s suitably large. Go on, have a go.”
He turns me to the waterfall, and stands right behind me.
“Try not to look at specific spots on the water,” he says. “Let your eyes lose focus, let your natural abilities take over. Feel the water rushing down and search out a gap. Hold your arm steady, then just do what you’d naturally do. Don’t think about it too much. Just let it happen.”
I listen to his advice intently, and follow it to the letter. In the dim cave, I stand and stare and let my eyes do the rest. Slowly, I feel the world around me enlarging, my vision growing less narrow, more open. The entire waterfall takes shape, my focus not on a single element of it but the whole thing, it’s random fluctuations seeming to become more uniform, more predictable.
Soon, gaps appear. Little breaks between the hundreds, thousands, of gallons pouring from above. Most are too small to even consider fitting my hand through. Others are larger, yet pass by in little more than a millisecond.
I begin to raise my arm, my muscles sore and aching and yet coiling up and priming for a thrust. Holding my fist close to the water, and straightening my arm up so it’s parallel to the ground, I calm my breathing and prepare to strike.
Several possible gaps appear. They come and go so fast, too quick for my eyes to handle. A couple of times, my fist zips forward an inch before recoiling, the light splash of water immediately cooling my knuckles.
“Don’t think too much,” whispers Zander behind me. “Just act.”
I refocus, and hunt down another opportunity. Then, I see it, a large gap forming above me, my peripheral vision catching it early. In a split second it will come, rushing down from above at a hundred miles an hour. I need to be faster.
Without thinking, I launch my fist forward at a pace that frightens me. It stretches right out before recoiling, darting in and out with a flash.
It comes back at me with such force that it knocks me backwards, right into Zander as he stands behind me.
He laughs as he catches me.
“I know all about kickback with a gun….but with your own fist! That’s something new!”
I barely hear his words. Immediately, I turn my eyes to my arm and see that it’s partially soaked. It had moved so fast I hadn’t even felt if the water had hit, my senses seemingly dulled by the ferocious speed.
Zander’s fingers grip my sleeve, cold and wet.
I pull it away angrily.
“I thought I had it,” I grumble. “That’s impossible.”
“Brie, trust me, for a first try that was pretty impressive. Your body will only get faster. And your eyes will only get keener. It’s a lethal combination when it clicks.”
I feel a throb in my arm as he speaks. It feels suddenly weak, like I can hardly even lift it.
“Should I feel this drained?” I ask him.
“Yeah, that’s to be expected. It’s a problem Dashers have. Putting so much force through your muscles tends to tire you out quite quickly. And since this is so new to you, it’s going to take its toll faster. You’ll get used to it. But it’s important to remember that using your Dasher powers drains you energy reserves fairly rapidly. You have to use them sparingly whenever you can.”
“OK, good to know. Should I try again?”
I turn to the waterfall once more, my latest nemesis. I will beat you, one day…
“To be honest, there’d be no point. Perhaps if you used your other arm, maybe. But mostly, this was just a test. There are other parts of your development that are far more important.”
“I assume you’re talking about my Mind-Manipulator powers?”
“Exactly. Being a Hawk and a Dasher will help
you sneak around unnoticed. And should you get into a tight spot, they’re pretty useful at getting you the hell out of there pretty quickly too. But really, those aren’t the powers that Lady Orlando is interested in. They’re not why you were chosen for this mission.”
He begins moving back towards the little gap in the rock, slipping through it and out of the cave. I have one more look at the waterfall before following, whispering a silent vow to defeat it the next time I’m here.
We move through the wide cavern, the sound of the rushing water fading as we step into narrower passages. My eyes continue to take in more of my surroundings as we go, gradually relegating the old burden of darkness to little more than a minor hindrance.
I can see the walls more clearly, make out the shapes of the vines and plant life sprouting from the rocks. I can see the little critters creeping around at our feet, bugs and rats scuttling between stones and hiding in cracks and crevices.
From the ceiling, droplets of condensation gather, dripping down into little puddles and pools. I can see them too, even from a distance, building and falling and splashing into the water.
Minute by minute, my eyesight improves, not only taking in the light but seeking further details in the distance too. Without even knowing it, I’m able to clearly make out the form of the passages a long way into the darkness. And when we emerge into a large cavern once more, details that would otherwise be nothing but a blur stick out, clearly defined as if they’re right before my eyes.
Down here in the darkness is where my eyesight will develop fastest. Without the burden of bright light to deal with, my eyes are now forced to suck in every morsel of illumination they can find. They seek it out, hungry after being held back for so long, barred from achieving their full potential by the drugs that Mrs Carmichael fed me.
No longer.
Now, they’re stretching their legs, testing their limits, evolving into what they should always have been.
The world grows quieter as we continue. The rush of the waterfall fades into nothing, leaving behind the light tapping of our feet and the occasional dripping of water from above. Soon, we’re moving into a place of total silence and calm, a small cave with narrow walls and a low ceiling and two small boulders planted in its centre.
Zander moves towards them, and takes a seat on one.
“Sit down, Brie,” he orders.
I do so, taking a seat on the other right in front of him. Face to face, we sit a few feet from each other, his body no longer just an outline. Now, his features are clear, his expression easy to gauge even in the pitch black of this deep, dark place.
“Why are we here?” I ask him.
He stares at me for a few long moments without answering. I find it oddly unnerving. Then, in the back of my mind, I hear the clouded, blurred sounds of a voice forming once more.
We’re here to train your mind…
His lips don’t move. His eyes stare intensely. His voice seems to come from inside, not out, barely distinct but just about audible.
Then, his lips do move, drawing into a smile.
“You heard me?” he asks.
I nod silently, and in awe.
“Our connection is stronger than I thought it would be,” he muses to himself. “Do you feel it?”
In the quiet darkness of the cave, I lightly shut my eyes, a hum of something, an energy of some kind, buzzing in the depths of my mind. I don’t understand it, I can’t explain it, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt.
“I feel…something,” I whisper.
It reminds me somewhat of when Deputy Burns entered my mind. That was invasive, unpleasant. It sent the hairs on my neck standing on end, a shiver climbing up my spine, one vertebra at a time.
This is different. I don’t feel as if there’s someone rooting around my memories, as if they’re searching through books in a library. More like I’m in a dark room with someone, hearing their voice coming from the shadows.
“Good. That’s good. We have a telepathic link, Brie. But this is me, talking to you. I want you to try to do the same. Shut your eyes, close everything off. Think of me, and think hard, and then imagine what you want to say. Think of the words, and fix them firmly in your mind. Let’s see if I can hear them.”
“But, you said before that you needed to look into someone’s eyes to read their thoughts? How can I shut my eyes if…”
“No,” he cuts in, shaking his head. “That isn’t true of this. Yes, if you want to read someone’s thoughts, search their memories, or manipulate them somehow, you need to look into their eyes. But this is different. You can project words from anywhere, and if our bond is strong, I’ll be able to hear them. And vice versa.”
“So, I just think of words, of a question?”
“And me. Think hard about me. Picture my face, and fix the words into your mind. Think of nothing else or the link will become foggy. Go ahead, try it out.”
He shuts his own eyes, leading me to do the same. I fall into darkness behind my eyelids, and quickly wonder what to say, what to ask. I ponder it for a few moments before realising it doesn’t matter.
Just words, Brie. Anything. Think of anything.
The image of our parents comes into my mind. It brings with it a question that’s never far from my thoughts.
Who was our mother? I start to wonder.
My mind begins forming other questions, moving off on tangents. I squeeze my eyes tighter and bring my thoughts back to those simple words. I fix them, as Zander told me, to the front of my mind, lighting them up in big, bold letters.
And as I do, I imagine Zander’s face. His wavy brown hair, his pale skin, his hazel eyes that look so much like our father’s. And mine.
I focus hard. My mind threatens to waver, attempting to veer off again in some other direction, to bring possible answers to the question I’m asking myself. I bring it back each time it deviates, always coming back to the same question.
Who was our mother…
Time skates by, a minute turning to two. Then I lose track of it, always battling to clear my head of all else but the question, and the image of Zander.
Then, from the darkness, I hear him whisper.
“Open your eyes, Brie.”
I wonder for a moment if he was in my head, or if he spoke out loud for real. As I open my eyes, his words echo a little down through the passage, answering my question.
There’s a pensive expression on his face, his mouth opening and closing without making a noise.
Then, he speaks.
“You think about her a lot, don’t you?” he asks me. “I can sense she’s never far from your thoughts.”
“You…you heard me?” I whisper.
“It was blurred, like words through water. But enough.”
His eyes draw in with a painful memory. It’s as if he’s always been trying to keep thoughts of our mother, and father, from his mind.
“I told you before, Brie,” he continues. “You shouldn’t let your thoughts linger on our parents. It won’t change what happened. It won’t bring them back. All it will do is bring you pain.”
Pain, perhaps, that he can feel through me. Pain that he’s been blocking out his entire life, now re-opened.
“I can’t help it, Zander,” I tell him. “It’s not something I can control.”
“Well, you’ll have to learn to. You have no idea how powerful your mind is. It will destroy you if you don’t tame it. There are people in Inner Haven who will quickly figure out just what you are if you aren’t able to control and, when needed, suppress your powers. And if that happens, there’ll be no going back. You’ll become an outlaw like the rest of us, forced to live in the shadows.”
“Then teach me,” I utter, my words bounding loudly off the walls. “Teach me to control my powers.”
He sits up straighter on the boulder, and sets his eyes firmly to mine. And, more clearly this time, I hear his words beginning to form in the depths of my mind.
I will, Brie, I hear him say
. We’re only just getting started…
39
The night is long and draining.
My mind, like my body, feels sore in a way it never has before. In the darkness of the cave, Zander picks and probes at me, guiding my consciousness to places I never knew existed.
Prodding, probing, testing. He reads my thoughts and tries to get me to read his. It’s more invasive than our telepathy, and much more uncomfortable. Even though he’s my brother, I don’t enjoy having him in my head.
I have little success as the hours pass by. As he enters my mind, I find it impossible to stop him from rooting around. When I try to enter his, I find myself doing little but blankly staring into his eyes, only murky and indistinct thoughts and memories materialising before being washed away.
My other abilities have been quick to develop. It appears that being a Mind-Manipulator, however, is far more demanding.
It goes on for hours, and when he finally relents, and guides me back up towards the surface, his parting words leave me in no doubt that there’s a hell of a lot more to come.
“Oh, we’re just getting started, sis,” he tells me. “Your powers are only just awakening. They’ve got a long way to go yet.”
We reach the secret door to the shelter in district 6, my ability to track the time having long since abandoned me. For a moment, he stops at the door and listens intently. I wonder for a brief moment if he has some Bat powers, such is the intensity with which he sets his ear to the rock.
“The world is waking,” he says. “Be careful when you sneak onto the streets.”
He opens the door to the shelter, and I step out. It’s empty, the exit to the street above, up a short flight of steps, shut tight. Beyond, however, the sounds of the city fill my ears. We must have been down in the underlands all night.
Before he shuts the door, he offers some final words of guidance.
“I’d get some sleep when you return to the academy, Brie,” he says.
“Yeah, I’d planned on it,” I say wearily.
