A Fractured Light Page 9

  “He told you that?”

  “We’ve known each other a long time. We don’t always have to say things out loud to know what the other is thinking.”

  “Do you . . . ?” I started to say. “I mean, have you ever . . . ?” I deflected a flash of lightning from hitting the car, sending it spiraling back into the sky.

  “Do I love him? No.” She laughed softly. Something in me relaxed a little. “My heart will always belong to another.”

  “Oh.” I paused, trying to remember what I had overheard back at the cabin while I’d supposedly been unconscious. “Is it . . . Gideon?”

  Glancing at me, she nodded slightly, then gazed back out the windshield.

  “What happened?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t overstep my careful friendship with Ardith, but I had to know. “And why did we need him specifically for this mission?”

  Ardith took a deep breath. The sky churned with phosphorescent light. “When your parents fell in love and were cast to Earth,” she began, “it was the start of a great Truce. There was a tenuous peace for a long time, a balance between the Order and the Rebellion.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “But before that, we were at war. That’s why we’re so afraid of what is coming. Because we’ve seen the violence that can erupt between the sides when that balance shifts. And it’s never shifted like this.” She looked at me, then looked away. “The war was vicious and lasted for millennia. I was taken by the Order before I even knew what had happened. I was with Asher, and he—he only looked away for a second, but it was one second that counted. I can’t say he’s ever quite forgiven himself for it.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I just continued to stare out the window, sending bolts of lightning back into the wild morning.

  “Gideon came after me,” Ardith continued. “We were young and in love. He thought he was invincible. But they caught him. They tortured him, used all kinds of mental tricks, manipulations. They wanted Asher. But Gideon wouldn’t give in. He wouldn’t sell out his friend.”

  “He must be so strong,” I murmured.

  “He was there for a long time.” Ardith nodded to herself, and for a moment it seemed like she’d forgotten I was there, so completely was she brought back to the memory. “I don’t know how long in human time, because that’s not how things work for us. They kept us apart. Eventually he learned their ways—and taught himself to fight back. He beat them at their own game and escaped. He saved me. But it took such a toll on him.”

  We were pulling up toward school. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the thunder and lightning more sporadic.

  “It had been so long since we’d been together,” Ardith continued. Kids were getting out of cars, slamming doors, calling to their friends. I felt a million miles away. “And he’d changed,” she said. “He was distracted and moody. Sometimes he would vanish in the middle of a conversation, go somewhere far-off, as if his mind wasn’t truly there.” She paused. “Someday I am determined to make it up to him and prove that I am as devoted to him as he is to me.” She took a deep breath. “But it’s so hard, Skye. That’s the kind of test you hope you never have to face. I could never love anyone else while Gideon is still alive.”

  We pulled into a parking space, and Ardith cut the engine. I didn’t want to get out of the car.

  “That’s why we need him,” I said quietly. “He’s the only Rebel who knows how to fight their mental influence.”

  Ardith turned to me and nodded. “Not even Oriax could.”

  “You’ll find a way to show you love him,” I said, putting my hand on hers. “I know it.”

  She looked into my eyes, and her smiled was tinged with sadness. “You are going to save all of us,” she said. “You’re going to destroy the Order. You’ll make them pay.”

  Ardith got out of the car, and I followed. I wanted to be the heroine that they thought I could be. But I felt so far from being ready to fight.

  Ardith tossed me back my keys and started for the front archway.

  “Asher thinks it’s his fault, you know,” she said, turning around. “That he let Devin hurt you. He let something like that happen once before. He can’t believe he let it happen again.”

  “That’s why he’s so intense about protecting me.” It made sense now. The worried looks. The fierce insistence that I join the Rebellion. The white feather, crumpled in his fist.

  Ardith nodded. “Just so you know where he’s coming from. How serious he is.”

  A lump formed in my throat. I needed to find a way to let him know it wasn’t his fault. I was grateful for the Rebellion’s protection. But I needed to protect myself.

  Homeroom was tense. Devin didn’t look at me, and Asher’s arm around my shoulders was tighter than it had been the day before. Now I understood why. I couldn’t help but look at him in a new way.

  When the bell rang, Ms. Manning pulled me aside to let me know I could meet my new tutor after lunch in the library. I glanced over to where Devin had been sitting, but he was already gone. Rather than the twinge of sadness I might have felt the day before, I just felt anger. The Order were monsters if they were willing to use torture to win a war. And the Guardians were just their mindless, soulless puppets. That’s all Devin was. If I hadn’t understood it before, I did now.

  When I walked into the library later that afternoon, another blond kid was sitting in his place. I’d seen him before, with the group of Guardians. My pulse sped up, but I had to remind myself what Asher had said: They’d never do anything out in the open. School is the safest place to be. No matter that Raven had implied otherwise.

  I walked toward him.

  “Hi,” he said. “Skye? Ms. Manning said you needed someone to catch you up on your homework?”

  “Yes,” I said, sitting down. “Thanks.” He opened his notebook, and we started with English. I glanced at him over my textbook. He didn’t seem like a Guardian. He seemed normal. Nice, even. And he was really smart.

  I was so confused.

  It’s only a matter of time, the notebook had said.

  What were they planning?

  My body ached to run. To get better, stronger. Protect myself. It was all I could think about.

  After school, I was loading books into my locker, fantasizing about the run I was about to take, when Cassie hobbled over to me. Ian wasn’t far behind, carrying her books.

  “So,” she said, “I’m thinking Bean. I’m thinking free chai lattes courtesy of everyone’s favorite barista. I’m thinking disaster-movie marathon, your place. Thoughts? Comments? Questions?”

  “Still grounded.” I shrugged. “But Friday night, it’s on. Okay?”

  Cassie pouted. “Fine. Man, Aunt Jo is really taking this hard, isn’t she?”

  I thought about her coldness toward Asher and the general mood around the house.

  “Yeah,” I said. “She’s not happy.”

  “Well, give it time,” Cassie said. “She loves you. She’s just glad you’re back, that’s all.”

  I hoped that was it.

  As soon as I was home, it was school clothes off, running clothes on. I was itching to get out and pound through the trails. The morning’s storm had cleared up with my mood, and the air was fresh and clean.

  I raced up a different trail this time, feeling the earth crunch beneath my feet, the wind whip at my face. The remaining raindrops on the branches twinkled around me, scattering with each new breeze and falling into my eyes. I felt even more connected than the day before. As I snaked up the path, trees moved, their roots untangling from the earth and then retrenching again in my wake. Branches bowed to let me pass. I was a part of the natural world, working in tandem with it and yet controlling it, too. It was exhilarating and strange.

  The end of the trail opened into a clearing at the base of the woods. The sky was beginning to grow too dark for me to continue back through the heavy brush, so instead of doubling back through the trees, I jogged out onto the road. As I ran alo
ng, I created a tiny bright ball of fire in my hands, setting it free to guide me in the darkness.

  I was just rounding a curve when I heard a staccato noise behind me, growing louder. I sped up, and the noise behind me sped up, too. My body jolted into high alert.

  I’m being followed.

  Dusk had settled along the tree-lined road. With the orb of light to guide me, I was fine as long as the true darkness held off until I got home. But it also meant that my pursuer had an easy way to track me. Spring was nearing, but it wasn’t here yet, and I knew that as soon as the sun set completely, the freezing cold night would fall over the mountains. On the silent road, something crunched on the gravel behind me. I whipped around, my hands raised to throw fire or wind or sleet or whatever I needed to protect myself. I was pretty sure my practice would pay off.

  Between my outstretched fingertips, I could just make out a face. Devin’s. Our eyes met in the dusk. My body went cold.

  “Don’t,” he called. “Don’t attack.”

  “What do you want?” A familiar voice cut in from behind me. I turned to see Gideon. There was a hollow toughness to his eyes, and anyone could tell from looking at him now that he’d been in some difficult battles before. “Get away from her,” he growled. “Leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough?”

  “She doesn’t need you to fight her battles,” Devin said calmly, his absolute tranquility radiating to me from where he stood. I began to let my hands fall to my sides. The calming shift in mood seemed to have no effect on Gideon.

  “Did you hear me?” Gideon barked. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t want you anywhere near her. I can’t stand to look at you.”

  Devin looked at me—as if he was asking a question of me with his eyes. As if he expected me to understand what he was thinking. The look in his eyes was almost pleading. What? I wanted to say. No, I wanted to scream it. What do you want? But I kept silent, tried to look stony even though I was torn up inside. He didn’t get to ask me questions. He didn’t deserve my sympathy.

  When he realized I wasn’t going to say another word, he glanced over my shoulder at Gideon. Then he set his jaw, turned, and in a flash of white feathers, he was gone.

  “Are you okay?” Gideon asked. His face seemed flushed in the dusk, and his dark hair was wild, as if he’d been running—or flying. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “He was following me. That’s all.” Even though it was the truth, I realized there was a defensive note in my voice—like I was trying to protect Devin. Gideon frowned. He’d seemed so sweet and laid-back at school—but there was no mercy in his eyes tonight.

  “Probably trying to shake you up, make you feel vulnerable.” He nodded to himself. “He wants to get back on your good side. So he doesn’t attack just yet. He doesn’t come off as a threat right away.”

  I shivered. “You really think that’s what he’s doing?”

  “He’s trying to make you think he’s asking forgiveness. I’ve seen it happen before. You’re too smart to fall for that.”

  Am I? I wondered. If Gideon hadn’t come along, would I have caved and let Devin talk? Would I have been powerless to his calming presence? Devin and I had spent so much time together. He had helped me so much, believed I could be the warrior he knew I was deep down. He’d pushed me harder than anyone had ever pushed me before. I’d felt so close to him, and when we were both able to break down each other’s walls, it came as just as much a shock to him as it did to me.

  But when I had stared into his familiar blue eyes just now, he seemed like a stranger.

  “I’m glad you were here,” I said to Gideon. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. He stared down the darkening road where Devin had vanished, his gaze losing focus for a second. It was like he was here and, at the same time, so many miles away from where we stood. I shifted slightly, my feet crunching on the gravel. His eyes refocused on me as if suddenly remembering I was there. “Come on. I’ll walk you home. It’s dark.”

  I was grateful for his company. He was smaller than Asher but tough and wiry. The intense look in his eyes remained. An idea was already forming in my mind. I just hoped he’d agree to go along with it.

  When we got to the front door, I turned to him.

  “Ardith told me . . . about your past,” I said, trying to think of a way to say what I was thinking.

  “Yeah,” said Gideon, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I thought she might.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It’s good that you know.”

  “I was hoping,” I began. “Would you help me? Will you teach me the tricks you learned? How to fight them?”

  The look in Gideon’s eyes folded inward to some private place. Pain flashed across his face, like he was reliving something terrible.

  “It isn’t easy,” he said finally. “It took me a long time to learn. And there are . . .” He paused. “Side effects.”

  “Please,” I said plaintively. “I need your help. It’s the only way I can take control of all of this.” I spread my arms to encompass, well, everything. “I don’t want to be vulnerable again, Gideon. What if next time you aren’t there to fend him off?”

  He looked at me as if trying to appraise whether or not I was worthy. After a couple of seconds, the look in his eyes softened, and he was once again the boy I’d met at school. Poor Gideon. My heart felt so heavy with the weight of his story, I almost wished Ardith hadn’t told me.

  “I—I want you to be as strong as you can be,” he said. “But I don’t know if I—if I’m ready. I have to think about it. I need some time.”

  My hopes fell.

  “Okay,” I said. “I understand. But when you’re ready? I hope you’ll find me.”

  “I will,” he said. “I will.”

  There was a strange energy buzzing through me as I stalked around the house that night. It all felt finally within my grasp—so close I could reach out and touch it. I was taking steps to control my own destiny. Soon I wasn’t going to be confused anymore.

  Aunt Jo was still tense and standoffish. I didn’t know why. She had been okay the night I’d come home—mad but happy I was safe and alive. Was it only just sinking in for her? Or was it something else? This new tension had started right around the night Asher had come over. Was it possible her anger had something to do with him? It didn’t make any sense. Asher was charming—even the most difficult of teachers loved him. So why didn’t Aunt Jo?

  I locked myself in my room to try to tackle some of the mountains of catch-up work I’d been assigned, but my mind wandered and I couldn’t focus. Eventually I gave up and got ready for bed early, wondering if Asher would come. I hadn’t seen him since study hall, and I realized, laughing to myself, that I missed him. So this is what it feels like, I thought, a small private smile stealing across my lips.

  I didn’t want to spend my time away from him. Every minute that passed was one minute closer to the next time I’d see him again.

  When I got back from the bathroom, freshly showered and with my hair knotted on top of my head, I paused. There was something dark resting on my pillow. As I drew closer, I noticed it was a small, delicate, purple flower—the kind that grew along the side of our house in the spring.

  It was the same kind of flower that Devin had tried to get me to resurrect. My powers had failed me, and when I’d opened my hands, the flower was still cold and lifeless, a withered brown. The flowers around our house didn’t appear to be in bloom yet, so they definitely wouldn’t be as purple or alive as the flower that lay on my pillow now. This one had been brought back to life. By a Guardian.

  Was it a threat? Or did it mean something else? My mind reeled as I wondered if it was Devin’s way of asking for a chance to explain. Did I really want him to?

  I placed the flower with the other artifacts I’d been collecting on my dresser: the white feather and the notebook. The confusing ephemera of my life.

  I got under the covers and switche
d off my bedside lamp, but I couldn’t quiet my mind. The energy from my run and the adrenaline from everything after pulsed in my ears. Where was Asher?

  If Gideon wasn’t sure he could teach me to fight the Order’s mental manipulation, I needed to find another way. Running was one way to channel my powers. It was a start, but it wasn’t intense enough. It was sloppy and freeing—it didn’t require the precision I knew I needed in order to focus. Only one thing I knew could do that.

  Skiing.

  I’d quit the team because I’d been afraid of what my powers might do if I lost control in the heat of the moment. My teammates would get hurt. I’d been terrified that I might cause another avalanche, or worse.

  But I knew that I had changed. In the woods the night I’d almost died, I’d caused the earth to shake and lightning to crack and trees to split and fall to the ground. And I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it. Now I could feel myself grow stronger with each run. I was learning control.

  I’d been so afraid before that night when Devin had tried to kill me. But strangely, I wasn’t afraid anymore.

  This time I knew that skiing would help me to focus my powers—not threaten the balance within me. Through skiing, maybe I could find what I’d been searching for.

  I made a decision right then. The next day, I would rejoin the ski team.

  Chapter 13

  In the morning, Aunt Jo flitted about the kitchen like a trapped bird, not sure what she was doing or where she was going next, only concerned with keeping alight.

  “I’ll be home for dinner,” she said. “What else?” She rested for a second by the counter. She looked tired, like she hadn’t been sleeping very well.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Me? Fine, fine. You’ll call me if you need anything, right?” She’d finished washing the dishes and was still holding an empty mug in her hand, turning it over and over. “Right?”