Quantum Entanglement

by Liesel K. Hill

  Karl sighed. “Okay, but we don’t know that for certain, Marcus, and all this commotion is going to bring Colin running.”

  “True,” Marcus admitted. “But if they are individuals, we need to talk to them, try and get them back to Interchron. Besides, even if they are enemies, I can’t use my staff against them unless I can sense their malevolent energies. I can’t sense them at all. I need to observe them, somehow. Get a look at them.”

  A ball of energy struck the tree Marcus hid behind, and the thing quaked violently, raining a shower of pine needles down on them. “The question is how,” he murmured to himself.

  “Ow!”

  Marcus glanced over in time to see Tenessa disappearing into the brush behind them while Karl shook his hand back and forth from the wrist, as though to expel a cramp. “She bit me,” he said in answer to Marcus’s raised eyebrow. “I’ll be right back,” he sighed and started after her.

  Marcus raised a hand. “Maybe we should let her go for now.”

  “Even if these are individuals,” Karl shook his head, “it’s going to take some time to convince them to go to Interchron. If we can. By then she might have caught up to Colin and warned him that we’re coming.”

  Marcus’s hand dropped in resignation. Karl was right.

  “I’ll be right back,” Karl said over his shoulder as he moved away. “Try to get a look at these guys and don’t get yourself pulverized.”

  Marcus rubbed his forehead and turned back toward the attacking energy, wondering for the first time whether Karl had been right when he suggested Healing Tenessa might be more trouble than it was worth.

  He needed to get out of his hiding place without being seen. He waited until a particularly large explosion filled the air around his tree with dirt and debris, then vaulted out from behind it, using the murky air for cover. He landed on his belly under a bush fifty feet away.

  The attacks stopped. They were looking for him. Reaching out into the universe, he used Constructive energy to pick up a rock beside the tree he’d been hiding behind. He dropped it loudly onto another rock. From his new hiding place under the bush, he heard the crack. The attacks on the pine tree resumed. It worked: they thought he still hid there.

  He could see heads bobbing in the thicket, but not enough to make out—

  A man came into full view, and Marcus’s jaw dropped. He didn’t understand this situation at all. That wasn’t a good thing. The man had dark, greasy hair that hung long on the sides, but was cropped short in back. A spider’s web tattoo covered his right eye, the long strings of web reaching across his face. Most definitely an Arachniman. Not a group of individuals, then. Marcus had been wrong. Another man, taller and thicker through the chest, with the same haircut, but a completely black face and white spider webbing reaching across it stepped up beside the first. The bejeweled Trepid directed the Arachniman on where to throw the next ball of energy.

  Marcus couldn’t come up with a single reason why a group of Arachnimen and Trepids would or even could Conceal themselves. Arachnimen were tethered to the collectives. They didn’t have the wherewithal or capability to Conceal themselves. The Trepids never tried. No one at Interchron understood exactly how connected they were to the collectives, but they prided themselves on their intimidation tactics and brute strength. They didn’t want to hide themselves; they’d rather announce themselves with horror. Hiding in plain sight in the woods was simply not something Marcus had ever seen them do.

  He felt the presence behind him with enough time to discern that it wasn’t Karl. How the person discovered his hiding place or come up behind him without Marcus noticing was beyond him. He rolled onto his back and lashed out.

  He saw a pair of legs and the bloody mess his attack made of them. Then a white light blinded him and he couldn’t make sense of anything.

  Marcus shot up-right, into a sitting position. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He looked to his right to find David’s bedroll empty. That wasn’t unusual. David often rose before Marcus did, to relieve himself or play down by the river until Marcus got up.

  But something felt strange—different than it should be. Marcus jumped to his feet and sent his mind out, searching for his brother.

  His father had shaken him awake in the gray before dawn to say he was going hunting. That wasn’t unusual either. For years, Danic hunted early in the morning while Marcus kept an eye on David. David was only now becoming old enough to participate in the hunts. The three of them had hunted together a few times, and Danic promised it would become a constant thing over the next few years.

  That had been hours ago. Father might be back any time, or not until afternoon. It depended on the hunt and how long it took him to catch supper.

  Finally, Marcus zeroed in on his brother. Fear slithered down his spine, making it cold, and his heart slammed against his rib cage. David wasn’t alone. Three minds Marcus didn’t recognize were in close proximity to David. His little brother was surrounded by strangers!

  Marcus broke into a run.

  It felt like years before he reached the river. When he did he made a beeline for where he felt his brother’s brain chemistry. He scaled a slight rise. From the top, he could see the riverbank below.

  There stood David, calm and cool, only feet from the high, churning river current. Three men clustered around him. One, whose back was to Marcus, spoke to David in quiet tones. Marcus registered a feeling of vague confusion as to why David would be so calm, speaking to strangers as he would to old friends.

  “David? David!” Marcus skidded down the rise, hardly bothering with the space between him and the river.

  When they heard his voice, the three men took several steps back from David, making room for Marcus to step between them and grab his brother by the arm. He yanked David around behind him, in one move pulling David away from the river and putting himself between David and the strangers. His dagger already gleamed in his hand and he brandished it, knowing it would be no match for three grown men.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, glaring up at the three new-comers. All three wore dirty, travel-stained clothes. One had long, stringy hair, too dirty to decipher the color, and a gaunt face. Another was stockier with dark hair and a full beard. The third, built like solid granite, had a shaved head and something metallic on his eyeballs that glinted in the light when he shifted them.

  “We aren’t here to harm,” the gaunt one said, raising a hand.

  “Marcus,” David said from behind him. “It’s okay.” David worked to pry Marcus’s fingers off his upper arm. Marcus wasn’t about to let go.

  “Why didn’t I sense your approach?” Marcus asked the gaunt man.

  “Because we are Concealed. It’s safer to travel that way. You ought to consider it.”

  Marcus glanced between the three of them, hoping his fear didn’t show through his anger. “Don’t you think, before you make contact with someone, you ought to reveal yourselves to them. As a courtesy?”

  “The boy is right,” a feminine voice to his right said.

  Marcus flinched as a woman, wearing clothes as dirty as the three men’s, stepped from behind a tree. How many more could he not sense?

  The woman stepped forward, her hair hidden underneath a rumpled scarf. Her eyes were like deep brown pools. She gazed at him for a moment before turning her eyes on the three men. “Relax. We ought to have shown ourselves sooner.”

  The next moment Marcus could sense her brain chemistry. The Concealment had been dropped.

  The woman looked at him again. “Did he call you...Marcus?”

  Marcus didn’t answer. There was no denying it now, but he didn’t want to give away any more information.

  “Yes,” David answered when Marcus didn’t. He still worked to pry Marcus’s fingers of his arm. “He’s Marcus. I’m David.”

  “David, shut up,” Marcus said quietly, keeping his eyes on the strangers. He felt David tense behind him.

  “Marcus,” the woman’s voice was smooth and
serene. Too much so. “We haven’t come to do harm.”

  “Then why are you here?” Marcus tried to match her calm. The hand clutching his dagger quivered.

  The woman spread her hands. “We are merely looking for others who share our beliefs to travel with. We happened upon your brother quite by accident when we came down to the river to fill our canteens.”

  Marcus prayed it was that simple and they were decent people, but he didn’t believe it. Standing close to them, he sensed something strange about their minds. They didn’t feel like his or Father’s or David’s. His father always talked about collectivists’ minds being under-developed. David was only thirteen, yet his mind felt more complex than any of these four adults’.

  “We aren’t interested,” Marcus said. “We need no more travel companions.”

  “Surely,” the bearded one stepped forward, “you are too young to make such decisions for your group. Unless the two of you are traveling alone?”

  Marcus’s heart pounded against his ribs like an angry prisoner and sweat ran down the small of his back. The man’s voice had a fishing quality—someone looking for information to use to his advantage.

  “You’re right. I don’t make decisions for the group,” he said carefully. “There are many of us. We’re a tight-knit group and we’ve been told to discourage outsiders.”

  “He’s lying,” the gravelly voice came from the one with metal eyes. “There are no separatists around for miles. That hunter we sensed to the southeast a while ago, but no one else.”

  “They’re Concealed,” Marcus said quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. They’d felt his father, and it sounded like he was too far away to come to Marcus’s aid.

  “No,” Metal Eyes said, stalking toward him, “they’re not.”

  Marcus took a step backward, forcing David back with him. He reached for Offensive energy. His father said he had a strength in wielding it, but Marcus still had much to learn. Without something to focus through, he had difficulty using it at all.

  When Metal Eyes stood three feet away, he stretched out his arm as though to grab Marcus by the throat.

  “Wait.” the woman said, voice calm as ever. It stopped Metal Eyes in his tracks.

  The gaunt man and the bearded one huddled around the woman to confer. Marcus couldn’t see them, hidden by Metal Eyes’ bulk as they were. He didn’t try, though. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on the man in front of him with hand still stretched out.

  Marcus had excellent hearing, though, and he caught snatches.

  “...Will come to us eventually anyway...must be his decision...leave him to it.” That was the woman’s voice.

  Then came the bearded one’s reply. “The prophecy...two brothers need each other...must be separated or...”

  “Must happen in...own time,” came the woman’s answer. “or he’ll return to his brother...only delayed in that case.”

  Their whispers became softer and Marcus heard no more.

  The gaunt one raised his voice. “Let’s go.”

  Metal Eyes glared at Marcus for several seconds before whipping around to follow his companions into the trees.

  “Nice to have met you both,” the woman said over her shoulder before falling in with the three men.

  When they were out of ear shot, Marcus turned to David, who still dug at Marcus’s fingers, trying to free himself from Marcus’s grasp.

  “Why’d you do that?” David scowled up at Marcus. “They were nice. We were just talking.”

  “They’re collectivists, David.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Marcus’s eyebrows rose involuntarily toward his hairline. “Yes. I do. Their minds are underdeveloped. Couldn’t you tell?”

  David yanked his arm back hard and Marcus let him go this time. David stumbled backward and barely kept from falling.

  “You think you know everything!” he rubbed his arm where Marcus had shackled him. “Would it be so bad to have someone other than each other to talk to?” He spun on his toe and stomped up the rise toward their camp.

  Marcus watched him go, returning his dagger to his belt. He turned to look in the other direction. He could just make out the backs of the four strangers dwindling through the trees. It was their movement more than anything else he could detect.

  A greasy feeling swam around in Marcus’s chest. His father always said someday he’d have to deal with the world. With collectivists. With other people. And it wouldn’t be pleasant. This encounter hadn’t been so bad, but he couldn’t shake his unease.

  Something happened here. In a single morning, in the space of an hour, his world became slippery. He couldn’t shake the feeling it was already sliding from his grasp.

  Marcus stared up at the blue sky. The decade-old memory faded as the foliage of the canopy slid past at the sides of his vision. The ground thudded against his head as he was dragged.

  When the motion stopped and his vision cleared, he felt a stinging pain in the side of his neck. Pulling himself painfully into a sitting position, he took in his surroundings. A mixed ring of Arachnimen and Trepids, three deep, encircled him. Standing at the apex of the circle, feet planted and arms crossed over his chest, was Colin.

  Marcus sighed. He and Karl had—somehow—grossly underestimated the number of men Colin had with him. He ignored the smug, self-satisfied look on Colin’s face, while putting a hand to the tender spot on his neck. His fingers came back with a pinprick of blood on them. He realized he couldn’t touch his abilities. They’d given him a neurological sedative. He was good and trapped.

  Chapter 11: Lessons

  “MARCUS! SO SPLENDID to see you again so soon,” Colin smiled broadly, theatrical as ever. “We mustn’t let so much time pass between our meetings.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes, ignoring the bait. “How did you know we were following you?”

  Colin gazed levelly at him. “I’m not an idiot.”

  Marcus sighed. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected an honest answer.

  “So where is he?” Colin asked. “Your big bear of a friend?”

  Marcus doubted it would do any good to deny Karl was with him. Colin had known they’d been behind him and snuck up on them without them suspecting the slightest thing, so he’d most certainly seen Karl.

  “He’s fetching your drone.”

  Colin’s smile slipped briefly. “My drone?”

  Marcus nodded. “The woman you left for dead in the clearing this morning.”

  To Marcus’s dismay, Colin’s eyes brightened, though his expression remained guarded.

  “There were many female bodies in that clearing. You’ll have to be more specific as to who you mean.”

  Marcus’s irritation flared. “I know you think we Individualists are backward, Colin, but give me some credit. I can tell a mind that’s recently come out of the collective.” Colin still didn’t look convinced, and Marcus’s neck still hurt, which made him think of Tenessa. “She has the beginnings of a gray tattoo on her neck.”

  Colin leapt into the air, clasping his hands together. “I’d hoped that’s who you meant. And you Healed her?”

  Marcus swallowed, not caring if Colin noticed it. If Colin was this triumphant over Tenessa’s being alive, Healing her was definitely a mistake. “Yes.”

  “Oh Marcus! Once again your own stupidity has helped me and trapped you. How do you keep doing that to yourself?”

  Marcus could only glare at his one-time friend.

  “That woman is valuable to the Union. She was being trained for a special mission. One of the individuals we were trying to absorb lashed out at her. Unfortunately, I don’t have any Healers with me—certainly not any so great as you. Even I admit your abilities are astonishing, Marcus. You practically raised her from the dead.”

  Marcus shook his head. Finally something he could answer. “I can’t raise the dead. There has to be a spark of life lingering. Collectivist or not, she fought for her life. Everyone deserves to be rescued.”

/>   Colin’s voice grew cold. “And you think you’re heroic for doing that? You have no idea how ironic that sentiment is, considering what this woman is being trained to do.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what that is?”

  Colin gave him a smug look, but didn’t answer.

  He was probably trying to come up with something clever and biting to say, so Marcus changed the subject, looking around at the ring of Arachnimen. “And where are they? The individuals you...absorbed this morning? Did you...deposit them somewhere?”

  Colin squatted down in front of Marcus and thrust his face forward so they were nose to nose. “Ah, that is the question, isn’t it?” he asked, dropping his voice to a whisper. “What have we done with the individuals?”

  Marcus frowned into Colin’s ugly face even as a cold chill shuddered down his spine. Colin was hinting at something, something Marcus ought to be able to put his finger on, but he didn’t understand what it was, and Colin was laughing at him for it. Marcus ground his teeth.

  Colin’s head rose to look toward the forest behind Marcus. “Ah,” he straightened his back and then his legs, “here she comes now.”

  A moment later two gigantic men emerged from the wood, holding Tenessa between them. Their faces were a sheet of dark tattoo, overlaid with the silvery lines of a spider’s web. Jewels were pushed into their skin at web junctures—Marcus could never understand how they kept them there—and wicked-looking knives hung at their hips.

  Tenessa, as usual, was struggling. When her gaze fell on Colin, her body grew still, her gaze icy. “Make them unhand us.” It was said with barely-controlled anger, and the authority behind the demand struck Marcus as odd.

  Colin didn’t move or say anything, but the two Trepids holding Tenessa gave curt nods and let her go. Marcus wondered if Colin was mentally connected to his men so he could give nonverbal orders—a tiny collective, wreaking havoc throughout the countryside.