Powerless

Book 1: The Synthesis

© 2010 by Jason Letts

All rights reserved: no part of this book may be reproduced by any means without written permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

***

“Dost thou deem it misery to be endowed with marvelous gifts, against which

no power nor strength could avail an enemy? Misery, to be able to quell

the mightiest with a breath? Misery, to be as terrible as thou art beautiful?

Wouldst thou, then, have preferred the condition of a weak woman, exposed

to all evil, and capable of none?”

Nathaniel Hawthorne, “Rappaccini’s Daughter”

Chapter 1: Cloud Cottage

In this life, there is nothing worse than being the only one who lacks something everyone else has. The only thing that comes close is finding out everything you’ve known is a lie. Experiencing both might then seem unimaginable, but such was the fate of Mira Ipswich, a girl of fifteen years.

Mira had spent every minute she could remember inside the confines of her home and the surrounding grounds, known as Cloud Cottage. From her room on the second floor, she could look out through a large bay window into the backyard and see a healthy garden, a small wood, and nothing beyond.

Thick walls of mist surrounded her on every side, wrapping around the garden and encircling the house. They arched high up into the sky, tickling at the sun. Neither the faintest image of the outside world nor her own hands could pierce it. For Mira, Cloud Cottage was the only thing that existed. Despite loving her home, the sensation of feeling trapped haunted her no matter how busy she kept herself.

She kept herself busy by running and playing among the nearby trees. Alongside her mother, she tended the garden and houseplants. Jeana also spent considerable time teaching, and Mira proved to be quite a bright student. After spending countless hours a day learning with her mother, Mira turned to her own studies, reading through stacks of Flip Widget’s Manuals of Science and tinkering with the machines in her basement. Her father, who went out into the mist every day, returned when the sun set, and Mira would spend time discussing her newfound knowledge with him or helping him cook the evening meal. After the day had vanished and she had crawled into bed, Mira’s mother gave her a soft kiss that sent her off to sleep.

Although her life was both peaceful and pleasant, some things irked her endlessly. She puzzled over how her father could go out into the mist but she couldn’t. She would watch him slip through, but the mist always repelled her when she tried to follow after him. Many times she would beg and plead with her father to take her out when he went exploring, but he made it clear that was not allowed. It had brought her to tears more than a few times, but she could do nothing more about it than sulk in the garden, surrounded by the tiny world that she lived in.

***

Wiping a tear from her eye, on a day like any other, Mira noticed something strange taking shape against the cloud. It was just a curvy line at first, small yet distinct, but it grew longer and met with other lines. Her curiosity distracted her from her sorrows. Bending lines, ovals, and circles imprinted themselves on the soft, wavering surface. She leapt to her feet and looked deeply into the figure forming in the white wall. The lines joined and a face appeared. Within the undulating surface, it seemed to breathe and blink. The moisture collected on Mira’s fingertips and dripped down her cheeks when she stared into it from up close. Gazing into the face before her with its ponytail off to the side, she realized it looked an awful lot like hers. Just as she began to wonder if she’d been looking into a mirror, the image in the cloud washed away completely.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She shouted into the wafting mass and waited for an answer. Her heart thumped inside her chest. Keeping her ear against the billowing wall, she waited patiently until the water had drenched her clothing, but only silence came to her.

She began to think it had all been her imagination. She couldn’t count how many times she had hoped someone would walk through the mist to talk with her. Perhaps she had only seen what she wanted? But she remembered it, and it was real.

She cast away the last of her doubts and trusted that what she saw was real. Feeling confident and thrilled, she sprinted down the path between tomato plants and cabbages to report the news to her mother. Jeana, busy pruning a large plant, was startled by her daughter’s sudden appearance. The girl, soaked, flushed, and out of breath, struggled to express what had happened.

“Mom! Mom!” She huffed with her hands on her knees. “I saw something…through the mist. Looked like a face. I…I.”

“What? That’s impossible.” Putting down her clippers, Jeana reluctantly shifted her attention. She brushed the graying hair from her cheek to reveal the faintest wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.

“I saw it though. I swear. Something was out there. It could have even been another person,” Mira said.

But her mother’s steady reaction started to frustrate her, and the disappointment chipped away at her hope that she had stumbled upon something important.

“I’m sorry, but it’s probably just inside your head. I’ve never seen anything through there,” Jeana said.

“Maybe Dad knows something about it. I’ll have to ask him later when he gets back.”

“Maybe it was your father,” Jeana offered, seizing another possible solution. “Did you ever think of that?”

“No, I didn’t. But I don’t think it was. It looked like my own face staring back at me.”

“Do you have any evidence to support what you think you saw? How can you be sure?” Jeana asked.

“I don’t have evidence, but I know it was real. I guess I’ll ask him about it.” A sinking, unsatisfied feeling had replaced Mira’s excitement. Unconcerned that her mother would hear the echo of her vast disappointment, she let an agonized sigh escape from her lips. Jeana held her face in her hand for a moment, and then shook her head as if to disregard her thoughts.

“I think you should probably just forget all about it. Here, come here.” Jeana motioned Mira to her side, pointing to the pistil and stamen of a nearby flower. “Can you tell me what these parts of a plant are called?” she asked, changing the topic of conversation for good.

***

Far from forgetting about it, Mira brought up the news as soon as her father, Kevin, had returned home. He felt exhausted and stressed, but Mira lit up when he walked through the door, proceeding to tell him all that had been occupying her thoughts. Putting his hand to his chin, he assumed a bookish appearance, amplified by the clean part in his hair.

“A face you say? I think you must be mistaken. I’ve never seen anything that can get through the mist. You shouldn’t let yourself get worked up so easily,” he said.

“I really did see it though. The face looked so alive, like it was trying to say something,” Mira conveyed.

“Oh, it was trying to say something all of a sudden? What did it tell you?” Kevin teased, showing his dimples with a smile.

“I couldn’t make out any of the words, but the lips moved and the eyelids fell, hiding something sad or secret.”

“What can I tell you, sweetheart. There’s just nothing out there for you. I’m sorry. How about we find something interesting to dissect?”

“But, Dad, you have to believe me! It was really there. I could show you where and we could go looking for it together. Maybe it’s someone who needs help or…or maybe even someone my age who’s lost.” A note of desperation crept into her voice, and it reminded Kevin how Mira’s pleadings had become more frequent and more persistent. He searched for a way to tell her it was all for her own good.

“Mira, you’ve just got to put it out of your mind. You didn’t hear anything because there’s nothing out there. You might imagine things are bad now, but what if you found something and your life became so much worse. What if it became a painful nightmare that made your present unhappiness seem like bliss?”

His daughter stared into his eyes, searching for the truth. If his words hinted at the existence of another world, then that could only mean one thing for hers.

“I can’t stay trapped in this cloud forever!” Flushed and defiant, she ran to her room and slammed the door. After some time, Jeana went up to find her. She offered a few comforting words and saw her daughter off to sleep.

Returning to the kitchen, Jeana met her husband with a distinct look of displeasure. Kevin was saddened to have to stand in the way of his daughter’s wishes. They looked at each other through tired, red eyes.

“Maybe we should reconsider our plans,” Jeana said, biting her lip.

“Why? What has changed from yesterday to today?”

“Do you know what that face could have been? What if someone was trying to get in? Could you be losing your strength? You’re not as young as you used to be.”

“Impossible,” Kevin said. “I don’t know who or what it could be, but it doesn’t sound good. I’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t you worry.” He attempted an air of finality and turned to leave, but Jeana wasn’t finished.

“I don’t think it’s right of us to keep Mira here any longer. Maybe it’s been a mistake all along.”

“You know how dangerous it would be for her. We might as well be marching her off to her death. And we’d be responsible for it. She might not last a day.” Exasperated, he cast his eyes to the ceiling.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We could still protect her. It would be a difficult adjustment for her, but it’s what she wants. And she could make it.”

Disbelief filled Kevin’s head.

“She could make it? Are you mad? You just said yourself that someone could be trying to get in here, and you want to let her wander about where any accident or villain could strike her? And be mindful of the war. It seems far away from our sleepy little town, but it’s all-consuming. How long could she escape it?”

“She could join the academy. She could learn to defend herself.”

Kevin’s temper fizzled and he laughed heartily.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he apologized, knowing she was serious. He came to her and wrapped her in a loving hug. “You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you? But what could she possibly defend herself with? She’d be candle wax trying to put out a flame.”

Jeana calmly distanced herself from him, looking into his face with solemnity.

“I don’t know, but this is the life that she was born to live. It belongs to her and not to us. She deserves the chance to make from it what she can.”

Kevin found this argument much more difficult to refute. He considered it for a moment, rolling his head around his neck, before speaking.

“You do realize how agonizing it will be for her, don’t you? To say she is different from everyone else glosses over that she is missing something important, something vital. What she lacks will haunt her for as many days as she can muster, overshadowing the miracle that she’s survived every day.”

“We can’t know for sure how she’ll react. It’s true she’s led a sheltered life, but there’s the possibility something bright and courageous will emerge.”

They held each other again, letting the decision they had come to soak in before the words had been said. In their embrace, he unleashed his imagination and peered into his wildest visions of what could happen. It wasn’t long before fear turned the embrace into a terrified clutch. But, in his mind, he stood firmly in the belief that their daughter would have control now, no matter what happened. And Jeana made sure he knew she felt exactly the same way.

“Then it’s decided. We’ll let her flourish or fail under her own power. Her disadvantage is substantial, but we can’t be guilty of stripping her of her freedom any longer. The only thing left to consider is how we should open the blinds.”

***

The sound of clanging pots awoke Mira the next morning before the sun came up. Feeling exhausted and not wholly rid of yesterday’s frustration, she dragged herself out of bed to check on the strange commotion. After pulling up her leggings and slipping on her tunic, she took a moment before heading downstairs to lean out against the large window in her room. The white wall rubbed up against the darkness. A slight tinge of anger tweaked her heart. Biting her lip, she chided it with her thoughts.

Shaking her head and feeling the hopelessness of fighting, she turned away from the window and went downstairs. There, she found her father, who was doing little more than lounging in a chair. Her mother, on the other hand, had been very busy. Why they both weren’t still fast asleep at this early hour mystified her.

Delicious aromas tickled Mira’s nose and made her mouth water. Poking her head around to see the kitchen’s hearth, she caught Jeana busily transferring food from pans to plates. A colossal breakfast was taking shape upon the table.

“How long have you been up doing this? What is going on?” she asked, with both interest and skepticism. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she moved toward the basin to start cleaning the dishes when her mother answered.

“Just sit yourself down, dear, and don’t be bothered about that.” Taking a seat at the table, her father, still wearing his pajamas, sat down next to her. He usually began rushing about as soon as he got up. Mira tried to formulate an explanation for his relaxed behavior.

“You aren’t leaving today? Why?” Very few occasions kept him home, and so Mira felt confused since this was neither a holiday nor a birthday. Kevin pulled her in close, preventing her from seeing his discomfort in an affectionate way.

“There’s something we want to talk to you about. Is that ok?”

Mira, shifting in her seat, raised her eyebrows and gave him her full attention.

“Oh boy, this is hard. Now, where to begin?” he said, looking around for reasons to avoid the conversation at hand.

“Spit it out, honey,” Jeana said, rolling her eyes.

“Ok, ok. Mira, we’re going to let you go. But there are some things you need to know first. Can you listen to everything before you make any judgments or decisions?”

She squinted at her parents, struggling to understand.

“What do you mean you are going to let me go?”

“You’ve made it clear that you’re not happy with your life as it is now. We’re going to help you change it, for better or for worse.” Kevin looked at her, and she tried to mask her skepticism of what he was saying.

“Ok, so do it. What do we have to do? Let’s do it.” She leaned forward over the table, eager. Her eyes scanned back and forth between her parents.

“Remember, you’re going to stay here and listen to everything. All you have to do is look out the window.”

Confused, Mira turned around so she could look through the large glass doors that led out to the backyard. Candle and firelight from the house met a swath of the undulating mist. She watched, unsure of what she was looking for.

At that moment, the watery mist thinned and separated. For a second, the water fell in an intense downpour, splashing against the ground. By then enough of the wall had evaporated to reveal bright stars speckling the sky beyond.

Her eyes grew large and her jaw dropped. The shock overwhelmed her and she forgot to breath. Unconsciously, Mira rose from her seat and staggered toward the door. Her eyes remained transfixed on the sight before her, afraid that it would disappear if she blinked. She pulled the door open and stumbled into the open air. Her parents restrained the urge to go after her, letting her soak in the moment.

The first thing she noticed was the morning breeze that brushed against her skin. It felt like a flush or a tingle that swept over her entire body. She took small, measured steps out onto the dark lawn in her bare feet. Holding a trance-like gaze, she stared out in front of her for as far as she could see.

Mira had never seen the stars so clearly before, but something else stretched over the sky that captured her wonder and demanded her attention. Stitched together over the atmosphere, a luminous and sharp web draped high above, embedded in the stars. Marveling at it, she admired its graceful curves and simple elegance.

But before she could even begin to absorb what she saw, the sun peeked above a mountainside in the distance, flooding the air with light and showering it down on the vast and beautiful scenery stretching out before her.

The brilliant rays masked the web but revealed a radiant landscape below. Her small wood sloped down behind the garden and extended outward along a valley. She could see for miles and miles, past a river, a village, all the way to some towering mountains that formed a chain leading down to the fresh morning sun near the horizon. She saw smoke rising from the chimneys in the town, where people must be living at that very moment. Those homes huddled behind a large stone fort, which looked out upon farmland. A large bird of prey, a hawk, navigated the sky, majestically playing in the first light of day. She watched it dive, flap its wings, and rise.

Everything was so new to her, and the wonder and beauty of it all struck her deeply.

Chapter 2: The First Day

Jeana and Kevin slowly approached her, giving her time to regain her senses. When they were sure they wouldn’t startle her, Kevin put his hand on her shoulder.

“How did you do that?” she asked, in a mesmerized tone.

“Let me tell you,” Kevin said, applying pressure with his hand and turning his daughter back toward the house. She yielded without the least resistance, and together they returned to their places at the table. She still had something of a dazed expression on her face. Her mother put some food on her plate, but Mira didn’t touch it.

“There is so much we need to tell you. There are things we’ve kept from you, things you can’t know just by seeing them,” Jeana said. She put her calloused hands out to comfort her daughter, but Mira was still too stunned to take them.

“You see, when each baby is born, a special gift comes down from the web of the universe to make the child special and unique. It’s what we believe makes us who we are. Your father’s gift made the wall around our house. There is something we can all control, an extension of our being.”

Mira squinted at this, not quite understanding. She could be a quick learner, but her lost expression made Jeana wonder if she had enough maturity to handle this.

Kevin, bouncing one leg under the table from the nerves, jumped into the conversation. “We kept you here to protect you from these powers and the people who have them, because they can be very dangerous.” He forced a smile to soften his meaning.

“Everyone has something that makes them special? I don’t get it.”

“It’s something we are all born with, a special connection with the world that sets us apart from everyone else. But these powers are sometimes great and are not always used for good. Sometimes they are not completely under the control of their users.”

“But if everyone has this, then how does that mean I needed to be kept alone?” Mira’s breath became short, giving away that she had an inkling of the answer. Kevin exhaled a deep sigh and spoke as evenly as he could.

“Because you are different from everyone else.”

“But you just said everyone is different.”

“No, you are different because you don’t have a power,” Kevin said.

The girl blinked in a flurry and her lips parted. She tilted her head and then swallowed hard. Jeana and Kevin wondered what raced through her head. Finally, she threw up her hands in frustration.

“But if everyone is special and unique and I’m different too, then why am I not special and unique? Why am I the one who’s different from everyone? Is something wrong with me?”

She reminded them of all of the people whom she had been hoping to encounter and the worry that she would now be received as a monster. The concern contorted her face and she leaned back in the chair, dejected.

“We watched and watched, looking for any kind of sign, as all parents do. For days and weeks, months and years, and it became obvious there was something different about you.”

Mira struggled to remain calm, but a sudden blush of shame made her look away from her parents. After a moment, something struck her and she set her eyes upon them.

“Mom, do you have a power too?” She waited meekly for an answer.

Jeana looked her daughter squarely in the eyes and gave a very deliberate nod of the head.

“What…what is it?” she asked.

Jeana tried to speak as straightforwardly and plainly as possible.

“My gift is a simple one, but it has proven to be immeasurably useful. I make things sleep.”

“Sleep?” Mira repeated, making Jeana want to say something about her kisses every night. A sick feeling came to Mira’s face, one of violation and betrayal. Jeana didn’t want her to think she had used something she didn’t even know existed against her.

“How could you do that to me? You manipulated me with…your power. Did you think that was the right thing to do? It’s so awful. I can’t believe it,” Mira said, voicing a wellspring of anger and resentment.

But Jeana held on to her patience. The argument was nothing she hadn’t already thought about.

“You have no idea how many tears I saved you from, enough to fill an ocean. You never had a restless night fueled by your fears. You never had to pray for an escape from whatever illness had a hold of you. Every mother in the history of the world has begged for such a gift, and I was not about to let it go to waste.”

The conviction of her tone struck Mira’s ears, and she hesitantly nodded at what she heard.

“I think I need a break. Is that ok?” she pleaded.

***

Her parents consented, and she went up to her room to let what she had heard sink in. Slinking down on the carpeted floor, she wondered what it would be like to have a special power. She thought about making things fall asleep or playing with the water in the air. It puzzled her, occupying her mind completely, refusing to let her think about anything else. How did it work?

The light streamed in through the window much stronger than ever before. She noticed the brightness on the skin of her leg and felt the warmth it brought to her. This warmth, she thought, had traveled so far and so long to get to her. Getting up, she rose to her knees and propped her elbows against the windowsill.

She peered at the outside world. Strange noises came from the distant town. Thinking of the people and what they might be doing to make such noise, another question popped into her mind. In order to ask it, she went back downstairs.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” she asked.

“Hopefully nothing,” her father answered. “You’ll remain safe and sound and be free to live your life with us.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Mira responded. “What am I going to do now? What do normal people do?”

Jeana and Kevin looked at each other before answering her.

“Children your age have spent several years in the academy by now. They’ve been getting an education, much like I’ve tried to give you, and they’ve been learning about their special relationship with the world. All of this is usually done under the instruction of a wise and supportive teacher, who is appointed by the village elder and who works tirelessly to prepare students for the challenges they will face in the future,” Jeana explained with warm sympathy.

“What else do they do?”

“Just normal, everyday things. They spend time with their families, help around the house, and then do things to make friends like playing games and sports and other hobbies. But a lot of what young people do revolves around the work they do at school.”

Mira smiled at the thought of making and having friends. It piqued her interest.

“Is it possible for me to become a part of the academy?” she asked.

Her parents answered with some hesitation.

“We think so, but we’re not completely sure. Your situation might pose a little bit of a problem. We’ll have to go and check it out together.”

Kevin pronounced “situation” with a careful kind of stress. It had already become something of a sensitive topic, which needed to be handled properly, or perhaps it always had been and Mira had never noticed it. Either way, the reminder that she was somehow different bothered her.

Her father continued. “If you want to get in, we’ll have to act fast. Registration won’t go on for much longer and then training will begin. I suppose we’re lucky we have an academy in this town. Some smaller towns don’t.” He stopped abruptly, refocusing on his daughter with an air of seriousness.

“This schooling can be a very good thing for you, Mira. And you will get to know others your age. But you can also expect it to be hard, harder than anything you’ve ever done. That won’t just be because of the training, it’ll be because of who you are. You’ll have to do it all on your own. Do you think you can handle that?”

Mira heeded his warning, but in her mind’s eye she could see only the promise of laughter and games with new and interesting companions.

“Oh, I know it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it. Is that everything?” she asked, referring to the explanation.

Jeana had to chuckle. “There will always be something new for you to learn, something that’s out there that you haven’t been told about. But we can stop for now,” she said.

Together, they cleaned the table and washed the dishes from breakfast.

“When am I going to be able to go out and explore?” Mira asked.

“You’re going to have to get used to making decisions like that for yourself now,” Jeana said. “But we can go now, if you’d like?”

***

A sudden thrill swept over her, making the answer all too obvious. She ran up to her room to prepare. Just a few minutes later, she was ready to make her first trip into the big wide world. Together, they opened the front door to another sight Mira had never seen before. The small walk that led from the front door connected to a dirt road parallel to the house. Behind the road, tall trees sprang up, their leaves stretching out over the road and providing some shade. Mira, with her mother behind, took a few steps out along the walk toward the road. Her heart pounded from the excitement and anticipation.

Stopping suddenly, she reached out into the empty air. She rubbed her fingertips together, focusing her gaze directly in front of her. This was where the wall of mist had been, but now nothing held her back. There was just air, and her hand cut through it effortlessly. The road lay just a few feet before her.

“I’ve never been outside the bounds of the wall before. This is the farthest I could ever go.”

“Well, there’s nothing stopping you now,” said Jeana, who felt tempted to give her daughter a tender shove.

After a moment, Mira took a very deliberate step forward out onto the road. She looked as far as she could in each direction, but each way offered nothing more than trees before twisting into uncharted territory.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, right? Going to the left will bring you into town. That way will lead you up north to the mountains,” her mother said, gesturing to the right.

Without hesitation, Mira started toward the town. Soon the bend in the road came and their home disappeared behind the trees. Noticing this, she huddled a little closer to Jeana’s presence.

“Mom, why? Why did you keep me behind the walls?”

“Because life is fragile and accidents happen,” said Jeana, speaking the words like a mantra. She could tell her daughter still grappled with what she had been told, and she knew the grappling might last for a lifetime. Nothing felt real to her yet.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It means that we risk something being away from our home. Things seem calm now during this relaxing walk to a quiet town, but you have to remember that danger still exists, and it can hurt you most easily of all. To be honest about it, in the face of a carelessly used gift or a purposeful one, you would have no chance. So you need to be alert, always. Please, can you do that?” Jeana begged.

Mira listened to her mother carefully and gave another tentative nod. Jeana hated making her fear the things she would find, but anything that kept her alive would be worth it.

“If there’s ever a problem, your best bet is to run away, and keep running until you are safe. Nine times out of ten that’s my first move too,” she added.

“What if someone is attacking someone else and I’m the only one around to help?” Mira asked.

“I hate to say it, but my advice is not to get involved and to run for the hills. I can picture fifty different outcomes of that situation and in forty-nine of them you don’t walk away. Do you understand me? It’s not your fault. It’s just…you.”

“How do you know that I’m the only person like me…I mean, without a special power?”

Jeana thought for a moment, looking up and to the right.

“I suppose I can’t say with absolute certainty, but I’ve never heard anything remotely like it.”

Mira took a deep breath and raised her eyes to the sky, struggling to spit out something that just wouldn’t come. Looking away from her, Mira closed her eyes and braced herself as she spoke.

“When you found out, were you sorry that you had me?”

A little alarm went off in Jeana’s head, and she jumped to answer.

“Oh no, not at all! In a way we were relieved. You see, the web of the universe can give a baby any kind of gift, and that includes both good ones and harmful ones. As often as it’s a blessing, it’s a curse. Babyhood is incredibly dangerous because a gift can disrupt an internal organ or it can spring up at a tragic time. Imagine walking down stairs and suddenly turning to glass. Every baby is both incredibly precious and also very lucky. At the very least, something didn’t happen to take you away from us too soon.”

Her mother’s troubled words painted a bleak picture, and Mira’s stride became more subdued as her mood grew somber.

“How can you call it a gift even when it means a child doesn’t live?”

“Because there’s no telling what a quick end might save that child from.”

Jeana searched for a change of topic, but she couldn’t get her mind off of the peril her own child faced. “Makes me glad I only gave birth once,” Jeana added, but her feigned smile couldn’t cover her heavy feelings. There seemed to be so much sadness out there, and now Mira had to contend with the cold, scary place she had ventured into.

The pair came along the next house on the way to town, and a man appeared out in front of it. Lethargically, he tended a small garden, whacking at the ground with a shovel. Jeana’s fearful words still with them, Mira immediately ducked behind her. Mira peeked over her shoulder as they got closer, at once afraid and excited about meeting someone outside of her family.

“Oh, will you stop that. I know him, so you don’t need to cower behind me like that,” said Jeana.

And sure enough, the man, an older man, broached a warm smile of recognition and gave a friendly wave. He dropped the shovel and teetered over toward the road.

“Why, hello there,” he crooned.

“Hello, Mert. How are you?” Jeana asked. She smiled at him, pleased by the encounter.

“Not bad at all. I see you finally got your head out of the clouds,” Mert chuckled. “And is this what you’ve been hiding up there all along? Let me have a look at’cha. Well, I’ll be. You look just like your mother. The name’s Mert Bogger. It’s nice to meet you.”

He stuck out his hand for her to shake, but the motion startled her a bit and she shuffled back.

“Now, don’t be afraid. You can shake his hand,” said Jeana, pushing her forward.

“A little shy, I see,” Mert said to Jeana as Mira took his hand. It looked moist and gritty, probably because of the shovel and garden work.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mira said. Taking back her hand, she smiled a little and stifled a sigh of relief.

“It’s because of genes, you know—Oh, about how you said I looked like my mother. It’s because of genes. Each parent supplies half of the genes we have.”

Mert chuckled a little, lost.

“Is that so? So young lady, who are you?” he asked, twisting his head and glaring at her from one eye. His piercing squint confused Mira, and she cast a puzzled glance at her mother.

“She doesn’t have a gift,” Jeana answered. Mert’s eyebrows jumped in astonishment, dropping again in an intense scrutiny.

“How is that possible?” he wondered, staring at the specimen before him. Mert wiggled his fingers with the temptation to poke and prod at her, but her first skittish recoil dissuaded him carrying through with it.

“We don’t know, exactly.”

“Yeah, well what can you do, Mr. Bogger?” Mira asked. Mert gave Jeana a nod, signaling that she should answer the question.

“Mert here doesn’t need to breathe,” she explained. Mert gave a satisfied nod of approval. The girl, however, responded with even greater confusion.

“Wait, you don’t need to breathe, but does that mean you still have lungs? Does your body still take in and use oxygen? Could you live under water or in outer space?”

Mert laughed loudly, seemingly gratified by the attention.

“I don’t know anything about that. It’s just who I am.”

At this point, Jeana spoke up.

“You know, Mira’s never actually watched anyone use their gifts. Would you like to see a demonstration? Is that ok, Mert?”

The old man shrugged, politely keeping any judgments about Jeana’s parenting to himself.

“How about I just lie on the ground here. Does that work for you?”

Jeana moved beside the old man, who lay flat on the ground with his eyes closed. She knelt down to look at him. Then she looked up at Mira. She had a curious look on her face, like the man was where she should be. Jeana softly pressed her hand against his forehead, letting her fingers lightly drag down his temples to his cheek. Suddenly, she hopped up and took her place next to her daughter. Mira, squinting, hadn’t detected any change in him at all.

“He looks dead,” she noted.

“Well, you might expect that from a man who doesn’t have to breathe,” Jeana replied.

***

The pair continued on down the road, and soon the forest relented to the village’s small buildings. Mira admired the wooden structures that looked so different from her own home. Some of the walls had an image of a crescent moon amidst clouds that was at once beautiful and confusing. Colored glass hung from their roofs, which caused splotches of red and green to swirl over the design as the wind twisted the glass.

While strolling past these buildings, they heard the noise of a crowd and a drumbeat from the center of town. People of all shapes and sizes milled about in the streets. They slowly joined the growing congregation.

“Look over there,” Jeana said, gesturing to the left. “That’s Corey Outpost, named after the village elder. This is our town.” Mira viewed the imposing building her mother referred to. A tower jutted up above the nearby houses, rising over stone walls. A man was stationed in the lookout.

“What is it for?” Mira asked.

“For town business, record keeping, storing supplies. Lots of things. Important meetings are held there when officials visit from the capitol. If there’s an emergency, that’s where people go.”

Signs of a large gathering diverted their attention. Turning a corner, they came upon the square, where a performer danced to the accompaniment of a band in front of a crowd. Tents had been set up around the perimeter, offering food or games.

Standing on her tiptoes, Mira struggled to catch glimpses of the female dancer, whose movements were both poised and elegant. Most impressive was the dancer’s balance; it allowed her to suspend her weight on one finger and twirl in a movement that defied gravity. The crowd cheered.

“What’s the purpose of all this?” Mira asked, forced to elevate her voice over the music.

“Look over there. Do you see the young men and women in the white uniforms? They will be going off to fight in the war, and this festival is for their good fortune.”

“A war? Who are they fighting?”

“We call it the Night and Day War. Our side is the shade. If there’s one thing you need to know about the war, it’s that some people resent us for our peace. But fighting it seems worse than losing, and so I pray that they fare better than their older brothers and sisters,” Jeana replied, frowning and scratching her forehead.

It didn’t make sense to Mira though, but she didn’t have much time to think about it because she suddenly bumped into someone who seemed to be sprouting oranges from his forearms. He had a straw in one and was drinking the juice. Jerking away, her eyes grew wide when she saw a buff, shirtless man standing beside her. A strange lump raced underneath his skin, and Mira gasped when she realized a squirrel had somehow gotten in there. It hissed at her, forcing Mira to huddle back near her mother.

Mira turned around, considering for a moment that each of the people who surrounded her—probably one hundred people—had some force that they could exert on the world around them. It struck her the kind of chaos that could occur if things got out of hand. Even though most of the people were passively watching the performer, it made Mira feel alone and defenseless.

“There’s one more thing you might want to check out,” Jeana said, steering her daughter to a tent in the corner they had already passed several times. No sign hung over the entryway and no sound came from within. Still, Jeana looked excited when they arrived.

“Go ahead inside. Here’s some money,” Jeana said, handing over a few coins.

“What is it?” Mira asked, but the only response her mother gave was to push her into the tent. She ducked down and slipped through the tent’s entryway. Mira immediately noticed that all sounds from outside, all commotion, had ceased. The dim light outside revealed a small wooden stool. Apart from a sliver of light brushing against the side of a stool, darkness cloaked everything.

She thought she was alone in the tent, but once she sat on the stool the voice of a young child came into her mind. It spoke absentmindedly, carelessly.

“How do you find something you’ve lost if you never knew you had it?”

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” Mira said aloud.

But the voice only repeated itself.

“What did I lose?” Mira asked.

“You are looking for someone you’ve never met.”

“Who am I looking for?”

“You are looking for yourself, but no one knows who you are. There’s a power in that.”

Mira didn’t say anything.

“Your greatest strength can be in hiding your weakness.”

Mira waited again, but the child’s voice did not return. Adjusting her hands in her lap, she noticed that the coins had vanished. Getting the hint that the transaction had been completed, Mira got up and moved to exit. Looking back into the darkness, fear took hold of her heart.

She felt she had learned something but didn’t grasp it completely. Intuitively, something came to her about being alone. She understood her isolation in a new way for the first time, and it struck her when she saw her mother, who bounced with anticipation.

“What did you hear?” she asked.

Mira gave her mother a wary look. This kind of situation, in which she alone held the knowledge of something, was new to her. She didn’t want to lie to her mother, but she didn’t know the truth well enough to express it properly.

“It said that I’m missing something.”

“Well, there must have been more. What else?” her mother pleaded.

“It told me that I can find strength in hiding.”

Pleased, Jeana had much more to say on the subject, and she elaborated on it during their walk home. All the while, Mira thought about the strange words, turning them over in the back of her mind. A chill came over her, contemplating everything she didn’t know, and it made her think about her frail nature.

By nightfall, her fears had given birth to so many worries about what would come that it packed her mind full. Everything seemed so complicated and perilous, even when she was in the familiar space of her very own room. Every time she glanced out the window, the creeping and mysterious implications of her difference made her pause.

Lost in her thoughts, it startled her when a loud knock came at her bedroom door. She told her parents to enter and they sat down next to her on the bed. Mira noticed the concerned look on their faces.

“We know this couldn’t have been easy for you, today. And we just wanted to see how you were handling it. Is there anything bothering you that you want to talk about?” Kevin craned his neck to look evenly into her eyes.

“I do feel different,” Mira began. “It’s like I’ve been living in a dream this entire time. When the dream finally ends, it’s reality you don’t believe. So it’s hard for me to trust it, to know where I fit in. I guess I’m most worried about how people will react to me. When we told Mr. Bogger, the look on his face was like he’d seen a ghost. It must have been so strange for him. I’d hate to get that every time I met anyone.”

“The trick is to just be yourself. If you can act naturally and feel comfortable, the people you meet will feel the same way. You’re a great girl. Don’t be afraid to let people see that.”

“You’re my parents. You have to say that,” Mira said.

“Yes, we do,” Kevin assented.

“But it doesn’t make it any less true,” Jeana added with a playful smile.

Mira thought she’d had her fill of heart-to-heart conversation for now and it would be better if she got some rest. Already in her pajamas, she climbed under the covers. Her parents stood looking down at her, showing some relief that the day had come to an end. Jeana kneeled down and leaned against the bed.

“Would you like me to give you a kiss to send you off to sleep?” she asked.

Mira remembered how uncomfortable she felt about her mother using her power against her, but after such an extraordinary and troubling day, anything that would provide a sense of normalcy seemed welcome. She nodded her head and fell asleep as soon as she felt the press of her mother’s lips against her forehead.

Chapter 3: Corey Outpost

For the next two days, Mira lived almost as if the walls had never disappeared and nothing had changed. She continued her routine much as she had before: studying, tinkering in the basement with her machines, and running in the woods.

This stagnation worried her parents, her father most of all, but they decided it shouldn’t come as any surprise because she had no activities or commitments that would beckon her from home. Irked by his daughter’s self-imposed captivity, Kevin went looking for Mira. Finding both her room and the garden vacant, he shuffled down the wooden steps into the basement, which they used as a storage area. Looking around in the candlelight, he saw science manuals slouching against overflowing potted plants and an icebox.

Mira had claimed this space as her own laboratory. Small gadgets, nuts, bolts, and wires occupied the large, brightly lit table in the center. Metal scraps of various shapes and sizes lay on countertops and on the floor. Kevin had made a habit over the years of finding these kinds of things and planting them within the clutter of the basement.

At the moment, Mira was hard at work taking a screwdriver to a small motor. Her focus and determination impressed Kevin; he felt awkward interrupting. “To think all of these little gadgets are possible, but nobody cares enough to make them. Hey, what are you working on now?” he inquired.

“I’m just trying to find a way to get this battery to power this motor, but I don’t think the battery can provide enough electricity. I’ll have to make a bigger one, but that means it’ll be heavier,” she said without looking up.

“Maybe you could reduce the output of the motor. Would the motor still work ok if it had less power?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to get it to work a drill. Thanks for the idea though. I’ll have to try it out.”

Surprised that he had actually been of some use, something that occurred less frequently as Mira got older, Kevin smiled and watched her for a moment. She manipulated the parts with steady and knowledgeable hands.

“It’s going to take some time. Is there something you wanted?” she said, putting the parts down and looking at her father.

“I thought we would head into town and get you signed up for school. How does that sound?”

He wasn’t sure how Mira would react, but she seemed excited by the proposal.

“Sounds great. Let me go get cleaned up.”

After washing her hands, brushing her hair, and changing into presentable clothes, Mira embarked upon the trip into town. They hadn’t been walking long though before her initial excitement gave way to worries about life-threatening attacks.

“Dad, are you sure going to school is a good idea for me? How do you know it’s not going to be dangerous and I’m not going to get hurt? Mom said I should be careful around people and that if anything strange happens I should run away.”

Thinking for a moment, Kevin replied. He tried to sound calm about it, hoping not to make his daughter any more fearful.

“Your mother is right to say running away is a good idea, but what if they chase you? What if you’re in a small space and can’t run away. You’ll need to be able to do something else, and that’s why joining the academy is a good idea. You’ll get experience dealing with different kinds of powers and how to fight them, if necessary. It could very well be dangerous, and you will have to be careful, but this is what young people your age do, and if you want to live a normal life then you should do it too.”

Though he didn’t say it, Kevin also knew this would be the best opportunity for Mira to actually get to know people her own age. A small tremor of fear came over him at the thought of her being beyond the protection of himself and Jeana all day, but she had to do it to become an individual with some semblance of self-sufficiency.

***

Taking a side road, they approached the massive gate of Corey Outpost. Molded iron lined the edges of its wooden doors, and they stood beneath an awe-inspiring arch adorned with mystical looking statues, some of whimsy and some of wrath. Flags twisted in the breeze above the corners of the fortress. The gate itself stood against a backdrop of rocky peaks, the land in between divided between forest and farmland.

One side of the gate had been left open, allowing visitors to enter. Before slipping inside, Mira stood next to the end of the gate, measuring its width and finding it greater than the length of her arm.

Entering the outpost dazzled her and left her in a state of wonder. Crowds of people populated a bustling marketplace, and Mira marveled at the different styles of dress. The bright colors, designs, and accessories that both the men and the women wore made her curious. She examined the goods they carried with them, seeing many things she had never seen before and wondering about their purpose.

Offices lined the walls of the outpost on both the first and the second floor. She looked at the signs posted above the doors but could only guess what they meant. “Darmen Exchange,” “Infraction Reporting,” and “Reciprocal Usage” particularly puzzled her.

“Dad,” she asked, “what are all of these offices for?”

“That one there. Darmen is the name of the capitol city,” he said. He added that he would explain the rest later because they had almost arrived at their destination.

They approached a large stone staircase that led up to the second level. Mira also noticed a similar set of stairs leading down underground. Ascending the steps to the second floor, they walked along the building’s perimeter. Mira peeked through the glass windows and saw a library, a room with a man fighting a small, ferocious animal, and an empty classroom.

Beyond the classroom was an office with the sign, “Dustfalls Academy—Reception.” Entering the room, they found numerous clerical workers rifling through forms behind rows of desks. A woman and a young boy occupied a bench close to the counter. The woman waited patiently while her son, full of energy, jumped up and down beside her.

Kevin and Mira approached the main desk and were told to wait. Mira sat down a safe distance away from the young boy, and Kevin took a seat beside her. Mira, waving, tried to catch the boy’s attention, and he eventually turned to face her.

“Hello. How are you?”

“How are you?” the boy repeated.

“Are you going to start school?” Mira asked. The boy nodded his head. “Wow, me too!”

Mira noticed the boy’s mother giving her a confused look, like she smelled an unpleasant odor and was trying to figure out what it was. Mira returned the same optimistic look she had given the boy. Her eyes becoming ever more piercing, the mother spoke. “Are you five years old?” she asked.

Mira didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.

“No, I’m not. I’m fifteen years old.” But the woman shook her head, put it out of her mind, and went back to waiting quietly. Mira and her father spent the rest of their wait in silence, time in which Mira thought about the small boy next to her and how the students she would be meeting in her class would have a nine-year head start on her.

Once the Ipswiches were called. They approached a large woman with curly hair and glasses.

“Can I help you?” she grumbled. Kevin spoke up.

“Hi. Yes, this is my daughter and I’d like to enroll her in the academy, senior level.”

The woman’s face took on the same sort of contortion as the mother on the couch. Something just didn’t add up. Still, she reached into a drawer and pulled out the proper document. Just before putting pen to paper, the woman had to resolve her conundrum.

“How is it, exactly, that you are enrolling for the first time in the oldest age group?” she asked, pulling off her glasses and looking squarely at Mira. who didn’t know the right answer to this question. She wanted to join the school, and she didn’t want to say anything that would prevent her from getting in.

Fortunately, Kevin cobbled together an explanation. “We taught her at home all these years, but now we’re sick of having her around the house all the time. These schools are such a great thing.”

Content with that answer, the woman behind the desk began filling out the form.

“Name of student?”

“Mira Ipswich,” she answered.

“Age?”

“Fifteen years old.”

“Gender?”

Mira, rolling her eyes, flipped her ponytail.

“You think it’s an easy question, but you’d be surprised,” the woman said defensively, marking the appropriate answer on the form. They went through her address, emergency contact information, and physical health. It seemed to Mira like they had gone through the entire form without problem, and she felt confident about it, until the very last question.

“Ok, honey, what is your special gift?” She didn’t know what to say, and the wait clearly irritated the woman behind the desk.

“Why do you need to know that?” Mira stammered.

“Because we try to create a safe learning environment, and nothing would undermine that like a teacher who didn’t know what the students were capable of.” Mira nodded her head. That made sense. Again, she looked to her father to answer. He leaned forward and spoke in discreet tones.

“See, she can’t do anything,” he said. The woman scratched her head until a thought struck her.

“Oh, so she freezes herself in place,” and she began to write on the form. Kevin shook his head.

“No, it’s like this. She doesn’t have a special power.” Straining to make sense of what she heard, another thought struck her mind. She erased what she had written and started to write again.

“Ok, I got it. She neutralizes special gifts.”

“No, no, no. Let me ask you this. What can you do?” The woman responded that she could change the temperature of water. “Ok, now imagine that you couldn’t do that and nothing substituted for it. That’s how she is. No power, ability, gift, whatever you want to call it. There is nothing unique about her.”

In his frustration, the volume of his voice increased, catching the attention of the other people at their desks. It pained Mira to hear herself spoken of this way, and she looked down at the floor. The woman’s jaw dropped a little bit and she stared blankly at Kevin.

“One moment please,” she said in a polite tone, which contrasted with her deeply disturbed look. She got up and joined a circle of the workers that had already formed. Heavy whispering, at times with emphatic gestures, punctuated their discussion. Kevin and Mira looked on, unable to hear any of what they said.

“Is it going to be ok, Dad?” she asked, slouching.

“I’ll make it ok,” he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her a little closer.

A moment later, the woman returned to her desk. Struggling to suppress her emotions, she sat down and reviewed the document. Again erasing what she had written on the bottom part of the form until the surface became rough and thin, she pressed her implement to the paper hard and scrawled a single word, “powerless.”

“We are prepared,” she said, taking a sudden deep breath, “to offer you preliminary approval. No one has ever been turned away before, but then again those who aren’t cut out for it know better than to apply. Let me ask you, are you sure this is what you want to do?”

Mira, suddenly feeling herself under the spotlight, experienced a flush of defiance sweep through her mind. It insulted her that someone thought she couldn’t do something.

“There is nothing else I want more. You’ll see. I’ll be great at it,” she said firmly.

“Ok,” the woman replied, “but you’ll need to get final approval from Corey. You are an unusual case. The senior class instructor is Ogden Fortst. Class starts this coming Monday morning at eight am. Do you know where his schoolhouse is?”

Kevin nodded his head and took the document. She added that he needed to return it once it had Corey’s seal.

“Thank you for your help,” Mira said to the room, already knowing that everyone would be watching her leave.

Descending the stone staircase back to the courtyard, both Kevin and Mira enjoyed the satisfaction of their accomplishment.

“Look at that, a senior already. Cut the foreplay and get right down to business, right?” Kevin joked, and Mira smiled.

“Do you want to see your new schoolhouse?” Kevin asked. Mira nodded her head.

“Ok, I’m going to set up a meeting with Corey. I’ll tell you how to get there. Head outside of the gate and—”

“You mean alone?” she asked. Kevin walked down another step so he could stand eye to eye with his daughter.

“We’re not always going to be around to protect you, and if you’re going to be walking to and from school everyday then you might as well get used to it. Remember, no one knows who you are, so they won’t know you’re any different unless you tell them.”

Mira nodded her head, swallowing the necessity of it.

“Good, now from the corner of the outpost closest to the forest, you’ll see a small path marked with a large white stone. Just follow that path and you’ll get there, ok?”

Mira nodded her head, gave her father a hug, and watched him slip underground.

***

All on her own, Mira slowly meandered through the courtyard, peeking over someone’s shoulder here and doing a little eavesdropping there.

One man in particular caught her attention. Wearing quite a lot of metal plating, he leaned against the wall outside of the Darmen Exchange office. His eyes scanned the crowd, and Mira wasn’t sure which one of them was the fearful one. Still, the people entering and exiting the office paid him little attention, dangerous or no. He looked to be in his twenties, making Mira realize that she had not seen another person that age.

Leaving the courtyard behind and walking through the gate, she turned left and strolled toward the edge of the forest.

She came across a large piece of marble with dark streaks cutting through it. A path lay just next to it, and Mira decided this must be her path. Before setting down it, she noticed a slightly smaller granite rock nearby with another path, and a slightly smaller limestone rock with its own path. Taking a moment to examine this place, she admired all of the rocks and their paths. The rocks got smaller and smaller down to a hefty chunk of quartz and volcanic glass. The paths, some of them criss-crossing only a few feet in, looked so jumbled and bunched that they couldn’t possibly lead to different destinations.

Tempted as she was to pursue every single path, surmising that each led to the schoolhouse of a different grade, Mira returned to the large white piece of marble, which was almost as tall as she was, and started down its narrow path. Leafy boughs hung overhead and stray branches vainly tried to stop her. The sounds of the forest, the birds, a babbling stream, the wind in the leaves, enveloped her.

Walking farther in, and feeling the sanctity and contentment of her environment fully, a jarring and unpleasant sound suddenly invaded her peace. A pair of voices, shouting, carried themselves to Mira’s ear. Taking another twist of the path, the forest revealed a clearing, a frail-looking wooden structure, and two teens having a heated argument.

“That’s not how you do it at all! Don’t you know anything?”

“It would work if you would just listen to me and stop being such a baby!”

Mira froze, trying to remain concealed and hoping to get away before being seen. But her first step in retreat landed on a crunchy leaf, which sounded like the cracking of bones.

“Who is that?” the girl yelled.

“I don’t know,” said the boy, still arguing, but he turned to see what it was. Feeling she had been caught, Mira emerged.

“Hi. I’m sorry. Is this the senior schoolhouse?” she asked timidly of the approaching figures.

“Yes, yes it is. What’s your name?” said a handsome, stringy boy of dark complexion.

“My name is Mira Ipswich. I’m going to be going to school here,” she said. The boy smiled.

“Oh, great! My name is Vern Porter. It’s nice to meet you,” shaking hands with her. “Who are you?” he asked.

The question had come so quick and it caught her off guard, but Mira remembered the words she heard in the blackness of the tent: Your greatest strength can be in hiding your weakness.

“Oh, you don’t want to know what I can do. It’s dangerous!” she boasted. The boy mustered a suspicious smirk. “Well you can’t be more powerful than Aoi here, or else they would have taken you away to the capitol a long time ago,” he said, referring to the tiny, black-haired girl with two sizable front teeth beside him. “She is as strong as her heartbeat.” But before Mira could even begin to ponder what that meant, the girl had already stuck out her hand.

“My name’s Aoi Watanabe. It’s nice to meet you,” she said through a devious smile. Hesitantly, Mira reached out and took her hand, ready to say that it was nice to meet her, but her hand was crushed in the shake and something very different came out.

“Oww!”

“It’s pronounced “owie,” actually,” Aoi said, emphasizing the final vowel sound and then giggling to herself. Mira immediately knew she wasn’t the first person to fall victim to this. Vern, again, looked mildly amused.

“Ok, you don’t have to tell us now, but you won’t be able to hide for long. We’ll have the Tournament Trial as soon as class starts and it’ll have to come out then. But I predict the result won’t be too different from last year,” he gloated. Aoi scowled at him with piercing, malicious eyes.

“Yes, of course, the Tournament Trial,” Mira fibbed. “I know all about that. What happened last year, anyway?”

At this, Aoi erupted. “If I could have just gotten my hands on you, you would have had a mouthful of dirt!” The venom in her voice startled Mira, but Aoi calmed down and shifted her attention to Mira. “Vern has an attractive force, so you think it would be easy to get near him, but it’s not. And that’s why he’s class leader—because he finished the year top of the class—and I’m not…yet.”

A distinctly smug and satisfied expression formed on Vern’s face as he folded his arms. Mira wanted to know more about what “an attractive force” meant. But Vern’s grin enraged Aoi and she went off before Mira could say anything. “Things are going to be different this year. So you can just wipe that look off your face!”

“Maybe the real reason you’re upset is that Fortst asked me to help out because I’m class leader, and you’re here as punishment.”

“What are you being punished for?” Mira asked, unabashedly curious.

Aoi hung her head and spoke very softly, in almost a whisper. “I may have accidentally broken something.”

“It was a house, Aoi!” Vern boomed.

“I break things! Ok? It happens. They shouldn’t have made that house like that. It was just asking to be knocked over. It wasn’t my fault!”

“What do you mean it wasn’t your fault? Everyone saw you drop kick it.” Aoi just shook her head, fuming. Mira decided to change the subject.

“So what are you doing here, anyway?”

Both Vern and Aoi turned to look at what they had walked away from when Mira arrived. A group of large boulders and some divots in the ground lay before the entrance of the schoolhouse. Whatever they were doing, it didn’t look like much progress had been made.

“We’re trying to make a pathway leading to the entrance. But we’re not having any luck getting these stones into the ground.”

Mira walked over to analyze the work area. She couldn’t be sure, but she guessed that they had been digging up these boulders and then trying to press them back into the ground, leaving half-buried rocks that were still half as tall as Mira.

“How are you moving these rocks around?” Mira asked. “Oh,” she added after Aoi put her hands together. “Why don’t you try breaking the rocks into pieces? If you can lift them up, and then bring them down hard on another rock. That should create some flat surfaces along the break point. If you carve out thin slices from these rocks you will only have to do a tiny bit of digging to set them in the ground.”

Vern and Aoi, resumed their places in the workspace, reasoning that it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. Mira, hustling out of the way, watched as Aoi yanked a boulder that was as large as she was out of the ground and held it in her outstretched arms. Vern shouted directions to her and she maneuvered over toward another stone.

Once in place, Aoi slammed the stone down as hard as she could. The rock cleaved in two. Without a word, Aoi went about preparing to shatter the remaining pieces and the other stones.

Only then did Mira finally get a chance to fully survey the schoolhouse she had come to look at. Her notion of an impressive institution of learning met with resounding disappointment. The building before her had thin wooden boards that light could sneak through, an uneven cement foundation, and a shingled roof that surely leaked.

Getting the okay from Vern to go inside, Mira walked up the three cement steps to the door, which had a basic metal latch. Opening it, she felt even she could break it without much effort, and rust from the latch rubbed off on her hand. Inside, fifteen desks stood before a lectern. A heavy black board hung against the far wall, which had caused a crack in one of the wallboards, allowing in more light. A few materials, some for teaching and some for repair, lay in the far corner.

The only point of interest for Mira was a bird’s nest nestled up in the rafters, but that led to droppings that found their way onto a few of the desks. Mira sat down in one of the uncomfortable wooden seats, listening to the crashing of rocks outside and trying to find something optimistic in this disappointing place.

She thought about the two students she would be studying with, Vern and Aoi. The one seemed full of himself and the other much too volatile. Maybe the rest of the students would be easier to get along with. The promise of having a real teacher stirred some delight within her. Even the dullest, dreariest setting could be transformed under the guidance of a thoughtful and inspiring teacher.

Feeling like she had seen enough, Mira left her seat and went for the door. Outside, Mira’s eyes widened. Thin stone slabs speckled the ground and a number of shallow holes had already been made. The work would be finished in no time. She walked along the edge of the forest, sure to stay out of the way. Before leaving, she turned to address the pair still hard at work.

“It was nice to meet you. Good luck with the path!”

Sadly, neither of them broke their focus longer than to mumble a quick “yeah, bye.” So much for immediately striking up deep friendships, she lamented.

***

Retracing her steps along the forest path, Mira returned to the gate of Corey Outpost, where her father patiently waited for her. They immediately began the walk home, and Mira noticed her father behaving meekly.

“So did everything go alright with the form?” she asked, surprised to be the first person to speak.

Kevin roused himself. “No problem at all,” he said. “The meeting will be soon and then you’ll officially be a member of the class. How was the schoolhouse? You’re going to be spending a lot of time there, you know.”

But the building hadn’t left as memorable an impression as something else. “Two students were there, a boy and a girl, and we talked for a few minutes. I just realized that’s the first time I’ve ever spoken to anyone my own age.”

Kevin searched her face for clues to how she felt about this. But she kept her face free from any significant expression. “How were they?” he asked.

“The girl had a very big temper for how small she is. And the boy? Well, I think it would be difficult for me to like him more than he likes himself.”

“I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends in the class even if those two aren’t a perfect match for you,” he said.

They walked along in silence for a while, each pondering the experiences they just had. Mira only posed another question when they had just reached their home.

“Dad, what’s the Tournament Trial?”

Kevin’s eyes widened and then he winced.

“In each school year, all of the students are pitted against each other three times. The first and the last are to decide class rank. You’ll have to beat the others in special contests to demonstrate your ability and aptitude. Having a good class rank is very important to a student,” he said, almost in fear of his own words.

The image of massive boulders crashing together came to Mira’s mind, and her mouth went dry.

“Oh.”

Chapter 4: The Blood Stone

Long after Mira and Jeana had fallen asleep, Kevin silently snuck out of the house and slipped into the blustery and turbulent night. Clouds raced overhead, waiting for the right moment to expel their watery store. A bright moon peeked through, giving everything a fleeting illumination.

Hidden beneath a dark cloak, he crept along the side of his house, keeping his ears open and his eyes vigilant. The mist in the air solidified in front of him, and Kevin stepped on to the dense platform and let it carry him into the air. The wind raced around him as he floated over the treetops on his way down to the outpost. When he descended near the large gate, the mist dissipated just in time for him to step onto the ground.

Kevin ran along the wall away from the forest to a small shed hidden around the corner. As soon as he closed the door behind him, a heavy rain broke from the clouds, clacking against the shed’s tin roof and washing under the walls onto the dirt floor.

Striking a match softened the shed’s darkness. Its flickering light revealed the cramped space he inhabited, containing a few broken tools and some rope along with a metal sheet on the floor. The sheet, Kevin knew, sealed the passageway through which he needed to pass.

Before the match diminished, Kevin spoke clearly and confidently to the dying light. “My name is Kevin Ipswich. I have business with Corey. Whither does my voice travel?”

Having followed the instructions he’d received, he waited for what would come next. The rattling rain on the roof drowned out any other sound. A rumbling, emanating sound escaped from below him. He kneeled down to listen.

“A key above the door.” The voice sounded hoarse and raspy but unmistakable. Without lighting another match, Kevin groped above the entryway in darkness. His hands ran over the moistened wood and up to the gritty metal. Pawing at a small pouch tucked up above, he felt the key dance between his fingers as gravity sucked it down to the floor.

Chasing after the slight clink with his hands, he brushed over the ground for the key. Just as he felt the silliness of his posture and considered lighting another match, his fingers felt the key and he took hold of it. Within moments the metal sheet and its lock leaned against the wall.

Knowing one end of the rope firmly held an iron bar attached to the outpost’s exterior, Kevin tossed the coil down the hole. Grabbing hold of the section near the surface, he slowly lowered himself down, feeling uneasy about the wet rope, the water trickling from above, and the slick surface he placed his feet on.

Dreading that he would slip, his feet lost their hold on the wall and he dangled in the middle of a dark tunnel, the depth of which he did not know. At once resolved that this danger was entirely unnecessary, Kevin rested his feet on a cloud that had condensed in the tunnel under his feet. Feeling much more at home, he descended slowly, until he felt the floor beneath him.

In utter darkness, he spun around looking for a light to guide him. Only perfect darkness revealed itself. Having given up hope of finding the way himself, he asked for help.

“Turn ninety degrees to the left and walk for thirty paces.” The same voice, ruminating and echoing, seemed to come from all directions at once.

He followed the directions, and asked again, repeating the process countless times. Often the voice commanded him to turn sharply and walk only a few steps, making him wonder if he maneuvered through a large maze or foolishly wandered around in a great open space.

Soon he stopped walking with his hands in front of him. After several more commands, he closed his eyes. Taking a few more steps and noticing a sudden increase in temperature, Kevin opened his eyes and realized that the man he’d been searching for sat just a few feet away. The light from a small fire smoldered behind the seated man, who sat peacefully with a blindfold over his eyes. Looking behind him, Kevin saw that the chair blocked the light from entering the corridor.

“This is where your voice has traveled.” The old man said, wrinkling his face with a smile. Kevin had never been in the exclusive company of the elder before; he tried to match the man’s appearance with his revered reputation, the source of reason and knowledge that the entire community depended upon. But seeing the shriveled body before him somehow detracted from that.

“I’ve come about my daughter. She needs your permission to attend the academy,” Kevin said. The old man nodded his head, already in deep thought.

“If it had just been that, I would have had an assistant take care of you. But that’s not all you needed to discuss,” he said.

“That’s right. There’s something else—”

“Something more serious,” Corey added before returning to the beginning. “But I was surprised to hear about the daughter you’ve been hiding, and more so of her circumstances. I’ve heard her, you know. Her footsteps are hesitant and there is much fear and doubt tangled within the waves of her voice.”

His voice imitated Mira’s, and Kevin looked carefully at the man, listening to the heavy words that forcibly entered his ear. Assuming Kevin’s voice, the words Corey spoke haunted Kevin’s mind and drowned out his own thoughts.

“In a race, sound will always lose to light, but sound is much more vital to our existence. After all, we can create sound, but we can’t create light. Most people foolishly depend on light to tell them about the external appearance and the internal emotions of others, but sound is a much better indicator. I can recognize your daughter, Mira, without a doubt and clearly interpret her emotions from just a few words. And the same goes for you, Mr. Ipswich. Now tell me, why did you let your bird out of the cage?”

“Because she’s got a life to live, just like the rest of us. It’s not right for myself or Jeana to decide that she can’t find a place in the world, that she’s not good enough for it,” Kevin argued.

Corey again smiled, enjoying something that Kevin couldn’t see.

“And you want her to attend the academy too. What if she goes off to fight?” Kevin heard the playful tone of his wife’s voice.

“That will be a decision of her choosing. She needs this opportunity to socialize and learn about the world. You can’t deny her that. I don’t see how she could complete the Shadowing, but if she does decide to go with her classmates to fight then I can be proud of her for it.”

“Oh, but you know,” said Corey, darkly, and with an increasingly base voice. “Your voice tells me you know full well what would happen to her. You work preparing supplies for shipment to the front lines, but you’ve only heard of what goes on there. Words can’t describe the kind of bizarre chaos and insane carnage unleashed in the heat of battle. It’s something you must hear for yourself. I get the sense that the danger is coming closer to home than you would like.”

Kevin cleared his throat, chilled by what he’d just heard.

“Yes, that’s the other thing. Before we let her out, Mira said she saw a face in my vapor. I checked everywhere, and I couldn’t find evidence of anyone strange in the area, but I have this sneaking suspicion that someone was trying to get in.”

“You sound like a man who knows to be worried from experience. Am I right?”

Kevin, soundlessly, grimaced and looked away.

“Your silence speaks as loud as your words,” Corey went on. “So you think someone is out to get you, again, and so you put your treasure out in the open where anyone can get to it. Is that intelligent?”

“She’s safer away from Cloud Cottage than in it,” he said, defensively. “No one knows who she is or what she is or even where she’s from when she’s out in public. Being at school should especially put her out of harm’s reach. No one knows she exists so she can’t be the thing they seek.”

Corey carefully considered this, finally nodding his head.

“That’s true, for now. But how long do you think it will be until her secret gets out? If someone is targeting you, that means they’re after something. Maybe they don’t know where it is, but my guess is they will know it when they find it. You must be eternally vigilant and extra precautious.”

Kevin stepped forward, though the old man in his chair did not react at all.

“That I am aware of, but I’m hoping you can be more helpful than that. Mira said the face tried to speak. Did you hear what Mira heard? Do you know who it was?”

“There is too much out there for me to listen to everything at once. If I had already known this conversation would have taken place much sooner. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to help you now.”

At this, Corey reached into his robes and procured a small leather sack. Drawing it open, he removed a small stone the size of a pebble. He held it out in his hand, and Kevin took it. It felt smooth and soft to the touch.

“Did you know that people can identify the sound of their own name even in a crowded room with hundreds of talkers. We have a connection to our names and it’s something ingrained in us, in the blood. If I sense that an intruder has come, this stone will carry my voice to you, and you’ll know a moment of action stands before you. You can carry it with you, always, in the folds of your ear.”

Placing the stone above his ear canal, he found that its shape, like a grain of rice, held in place perfectly and did not rub or chafe.

“Thank you,” Kevin expressed his relief.

Kevin then handed Mira’s academy application form to the elder. Corey reached back toward the fire for a small brand and burned his mark onto the paper. Kevin felt dismayed at the prospect of leaving this man who could teach him so much, even though their business had concluded. He indulged himself in a single question.

“You are known as a great warrior, but I don’t understand how you fought. How did you defeat your enemies?”

Corey chuckled to himself.

“Mr. Ipswich, for being a fully grown man I would have expected you to be more capable of appraising the powers of another. Sound can carry the sweetest pleasure or the most terrible pain. You’re lucky if you’ve only known the former. I’ll do you a favor and skip the demonstration.”

“There is one other thing,” Kevin meekly posed, already chiding himself for his foolishness. “You must have a quicker way to get out of here than the way I came in.”

“Of course, of course. I’ve got better things to do than to walk you back anyway. There’s a ladder set into the wall behind the fire. It’ll bring you up to my office, and my assistant can let you into the courtyard. You’ll be able to float away from there.”

After conveying his deep appreciation and gratitude to Corey, Kevin took his leave, circling around the man and the fire, finding the grips in the stone wall and climbing up through the floor above him.

Kevin returned home not long after, though it was much longer before the sound of his own voice replaced that of Corey’s in his head.

***

In the days leading up to her first class, the specter of the Tournament Trial looming large in her mind, Mira meticulously prepared herself to be in the best possible position. She gathered some useful mathematical instruments, including a compass and a tape measure. Her new uniform, which she appreciated for both its style and its usefulness as active wear, lay neatly folded in her room. Additionally, she had been training her body for the physical demands she knew she would face.

The day before her first trip to Dustfalls Academy as a student, Mira worked away the minutes doing crunches in her home after completing an invigorating jog. Her parents flipped through some old books, and Mira thought this would be a good time to ask some questions that had been on her mind.

“So, do you have any idea what this teacher, Ogden Fortst, is like?”

Kevin looked up from his book and leaned back in his chair.

“I’ve only seen him a few times, but I’ve heard a little bit about him. Seems like an odd fellow, but I’m sure he’s smart or else they wouldn’t have him teaching the senior class. He sure wasn’t there when I attended.”

“Wait, you went to the same school?” Mira asked in astonishment.

“Yes, I did, and they’d only just built the schoolhouse. Our instructor was actually Mert Bogger, if you can believe it. Guess he was the only guy they could find with the time. So we basically just taught ourselves. Ended up building some of the schoolhouses for the lower levels too. It was great fun. Only had a few homes around the outpost back then.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that!”

“Course now I feel incredibly old. Let’s pretend none of that ever happened,” he said, scratching the stubble on his neck.

“You’re not old,” Jeana jumped in. “Don’t pay any attention to those gray hairs.”

“I’m just trying to be more like you,” he poked back.

Just then a loud knock came at the front door. Kevin jumped out of his seat and went to investigate. Both Jeana and Mira were surprised and curious too. They’d never had a visitor before.

“Yes, of course. Please come right in,” Kevin said, and a moment later he returned to the living room to the absorbed expressions of his wife and daughter. Before they could ask who it was, a tall man stepped through the doorway.

Not only tall but also muscular, and of some age, the man had short blonde hair and a dollish face marred only by a few scars on the left cheek. He wore a heavy overcoat, despite the heat, that clinked when he walked. No doubt a weapon of some size must hide beneath his coat. When he spoke, his voice sounded lighter than one might expect, but it had a rough, insistent quality.

“Good evening to you. My name is Ogden Fortst.”

Mira might have guessed, but confirming his identity did force her to look at him in a more respected light.

“Welcome. Thank you for coming. This is my wife Jeana, and this is Mira,” Kevin said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jeana said.

“A pleasure, Ma’am. And yes, Mira,” he said, turning to address her. “I’m sure you know I’ll be your instructor this year, ladling piping hot spoonfuls of knowledge into your head and generally being a helpful resource for you at all times.”

Mira nodded and they shook hands.

“If there’s anything special I can do to help you, anything at all, just let me know because…,” he said, looking down and seemingly groping for a thought.

“I just received your information today, and you have to admit, I mean, I was surprised, at least, about, you know. Is it true that you just have no power?”

Mira had been watching him as he struggled to get out his thought. She found his manner both unnerving and endearing.

“That’s right,” she said. “No powers. What you see is what you get.”

“Really?” Ogden said as if he finally believed it. He looked her straight in the eyes. “It’s not going to be easy for you. I hope you know that. And I can’t be seen to give you any special treatment or assistance. Gotta keep things equal. It wouldn’t be fair to the other students.”

Her parents gave each other a look, but Mira nodded again.

“Of course. But there is one small thing you could do for me, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

Ogden gave her a suspicious look.

“What is it?”

“The other students don’t know about me yet. If we kept it a secret, perhaps I might be able to use that to my advantage. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Her parents gave each other a more urgent look. Ogden simply smiled.

“Some mind games, huh? I like it. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Can I get you a beverage or a snack, Mr. Fortst? Would you like to sit down?” Jeana asked.

“Thanks for the offer, but I must be on my way. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,” he said to Mira. Standing up, he nodded to her folks, and just like that he was gone. They heard the front door shut and again they were left to themselves. Mira turned to look at her parents, both of whom were smiling down on her.

“Got something up your sleeve?”

“Maybe.”

“Better make sure to get plenty of rest tonight so you’re ready for your big day tomorrow.”

“That, at least, is one thing I can count on.”

Chapter 5: The Tournament Trial

Feeling like a family of butterflies had nested in her stomach, Mira set out to journey from her home to the schoolhouse. If attending a new school on the first day wasn’t hard enough, she thought, the pressure of having to compete against classmates she knew nothing about would crush her. Her only hope was that they knew nothing about her too.

Saying goodbye to her parents, her mother, almost in tears, had told her to just try her hardest and never give up. Hugging her tightly, she accidentally put Mira to sleep.

“Well that won’t do!” Jeana moaned, shaking Mira awake.

Mira thought about her mother’s words, and she imagined if she just tried hard enough she might be able to find a way. Of course, she knew it wouldn’t hurt to be a little lucky too.

Approaching the outpost, she saw other students wearing the same outfit as hers. They laughed and pushed each other, appearing perfectly comfortable. She watched them when they slipped onto the trail near the marble rock that she would walk down in a moment. Her eyes still on them, she almost collided with another boy as he entered the trail. This particular boy had reddish hair and very bright eyes.

“Hi,” he said, but Mira felt shy, so she only nodded. She followed him down the trail in silence, listening to the wind in the orange and red leaves and the echoing sound of laughter from other students.

Approaching the schoolhouse, a few students finished talking and ran inside. Judging by the noise, she could tell that everyone had already arrived. A sudden panic that she was late crossed her mind. Peeking her head through the door, she realized Mr. Fortst had not yet shown up and only one desk in the back was empty. Before she took it, she noticed several students had moved their desks as far away from one other student as possible.

She wondered why, but she soon became more focused on her new desk, which the students had avoided too. It wobbled and a sizable crack in the seat meant that the bottom might give out at any time. Sighing quietly to herself, she gingerly set down on the seat. No one paid her any attention and she just kept to herself.

Moments later, heavy footsteps approached the schoolhouse and all of the students immediately sat up straight, looked forward, and shushed. Still wearing the thick overcoat that reached up to his hair, Ogden Fortst took his place behind the podium with a twirl, gripping the sides with his big hands and leering down at the fifteen students before him.

“Hey you, kid!” he abruptly shouted. “Close that door. Let’s get started here.” One of the boys near the back ducked into the aisle and pulled the rickety piece of wood shut.

“Opening ceremony: check,” he said aloud to himself.

Fortst stood there looking down at the students. The students looked up at Fortst. They labored through a few intense moments of looking at each other.

“Ok, I’m going to be your teacher now. So you’d better listen to what I say or there’s gonna be trouble. We’re going to be working hard, and I don’t want to hear any complaining. Things could get very dangerous for you, especially with all that’s happening in the world now. I’ve been to the warfront and fought with our allies. I’ve seen the cruel enemy sun do the bidding of evil. Let me tell you, it’s not pretty! So you’d better be ready for it.”

He extended a scrutinizing glance to the students and took stock of the impact of his words. He seemed satisfied.

“Inspiring words: check.”

After another prolonged pause, Fortst suddenly sprung into action.

“You may be wondering who I am. Well, let me show you.” He pulled out a clear glass container from behind the lectern and set it on a nearby table. Next, he poured some water into it from a bottle he carried inside his coat.

“You, girl, what’s the temperature of this water?” The girl he had pointed to in the front row stood up, leaned over, and put her hand against the container. She replied that the water was cold.

“Ok, can you please come up here?” Fortst gestured to the boy whom the other students had moved their desks away from. Though a large, stocky boy, he was not as tall as Fortst. The boy got up and stood next to Fortst, who immediately put his hand up to his face to shield himself.

“Wow, that’s warm. I’ve got a feeling you’ll have a lot more friends come winter. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Dennis,” he said.

Fortst put one hand on Dennis and the other in the bowl of water. The students watched, and after a few seconds bubbles formed in the water. Gradually the water came to a full boil, his hand still inside the bowl. Finally, removing both of his hands, he gave a short bow and the students clapped.

“Thank you, thank you. All right. The plan for today is first we’ll have a lecture and then this afternoon we’ll decide your ranks based on the results of a one v. one tournament,” he said, while pouring the water back in his bottle. The mention of the tournament perked everyone’s interest. A few students threw up their hands and asked questions about the format of the competition. Fortst waved them all off.

“No, no, no. This one’s a surprise. You won’t know until you get there. We’ve got a lot to cover first.”

The students leaned back in their chairs, already losing interest, while the teacher roused himself for his first lecture.

“The most important thing I can teach you is to know your surroundings. You’ve got to know everything about where you are at all times or else you could be in serious trouble. You’ve got to understand it. Look out the window here. What do you see? Trees, the forest, uneven terrain, and brightly colored leaves. But, who can tell me why the leaves change colors?”

Fortst stood near the window, gazing over the silent students before him. He waited patiently, making it clear that he expected an answer. His pupils, however, remained motionless. Feeling it was silly to stall the class when she knew the answer, Mira raised her hand.

“Yes, you in the back.”

“Leaves change colors because they have less of the green-colored chlorophyll, which turns water and carbon dioxide into food for the tree. Because there is less light and water in the fall, trees make less chlorophyll. The colors come from the food, called glucose, and the wastes that remain in the leaves.”

Fortst stared at her blankly. Some of the students had turned to look at her, their faces equally blank.

“I was just going to say because it gets cold. Okay, then why don’t those trees with the needles change colors or become bare?” he asked, pointing to an evergreen, and clearly trying to save face.

“Those kinds of trees, called coniferous trees, are better suited for colder climates, and so they have needles that use less energy and keep them all year round. They still have chlorophyll and turn the gas into food, in a process called photosynthesis. Trees with big leaves that change colors and fall are called deciduous trees, by the way.”

Now all of the students had turned to look at her. Fortst was obviously speechless.

“What kind of tree is that?” he asked.

“It’s a pine tree.”

“What about that white one?”

“That’s a birch tree,” she answered, even though she couldn’t see it.

Flustered, Fortst returned to his podium. He leaned down over it with his face in his palm.

“Well, that was my whole lesson, so just give me a minute to think of something else.”

The students began talking to each other again, only this time Mira thought it was a fair bet they were talking about her. After some time, Fortst looked over at the pile of teaching materials in the corner. He pulled out a large map and hung it on the wall over the blackboard. The weight of the map caused one of the wallboards to crack. It dangled at a slight angle.

“Ok, would the pearl of wisdom in the back of the room please tell me where Martyr’s Fjord is on this map?”

Mira leaned forward, struggling to see. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Perhaps that was too difficult,” Fortst smirked. “Where is the border that our warriors are defending from the heathen, bloodthirsty, marauding Sunfighters at this very moment?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, feeling defeated. Some of the students had turned around to look at her, and Fortst cast a quizzical glance.

“Just one more question: where are we?”

Mira looked one more time at the map, made up of landmasses she had never seen, and then lowered her head. No one in the classroom made a peep.

“That’s why you need to know your surroundings,” Fortst trumpeted to the class. “You never know when that information could be used against you or save your life.”

***

The morning slowly passed. Fortst was obviously grasping at straws, making up his lesson as he went along and taking plenty of generous breaks. This may not have been such a bad plan though, considering the distractions his students faced with the upcoming contest. When the time finally came for them to begin their test, they leapt out of their chairs, almost ready to do battle on the spot.

Fortst lead his troop along another path deeper into the forest. They came to a clearing that had a very distinctly and suspiciously perfect rectangular shape. Waiting along the edge in a line, the students watched the instructor stride out to the center of the short grass.

“Let’s begin the Tournament Trial to decide the class leader and all their rights and privileges. As you know, your rank is the proof of your accomplishments in this academy, and people everywhere are gonna judge you accordingly. You’d better use all means available to you, but remember that you’ll have me to deal with if you get too rough and rowdy.”

He strode around the field, inspecting the various parts of the setup while he spoke.

“These two metal posts on opposite sides of the field are goals. This ball will start exactly half the distance between them. Contestants start in their goal and try to return the ball to that goal to win. Simple enough?”

Fortst took a moment to wistfully admire the students who stood before him and mumbled something about the importance of this occasion in their lives. How precious is youth, he said, and he inquired about what the day’s results would set in motion.

“Ok, last year’s rank will work as a seeding system. That means the good students will go against the bad students. Vern, you’re up first and your opponent is Mira, since she doesn’t have a rank. Take your places and let’s get started!”

The students scattered, taking up spots in the nooks and branches of the trees. Fortst found a good vantage point along the sideline. As they walked to their starting points, Vern and Mira glanced at each other.

“No place to hide now. I hope you’ve got something good to show us,” Vern said.

Mira’s heart raced in her chest. She couldn’t have said anything if she wanted to. Placing her front foot just behind the line, she looked up to see the gangly boy across the field and the white ball sitting on the grass between them. She focused on her game plan and looked over for the signal to start. Vern too adopted a ready position.

All of the students looked on as Fortst raised one arm high into the air. Letting it fall while whistling, the match began. Both competitors immediately sprinted toward the center. A few steps in, Mira let out a shrill and harrowing scream, causing Vern to look about in a frantic and confused manner. After a moment when nothing happened, he raised his hand and a strange sensation came over Mira.

Pushing her legs as hard as she could, Mira suddenly felt like the Earth no longer pulled her down. Instead, her body began to fall forward and for a second she floated above the ground. Once her body had been completely swept into horizontal motion, Vern lowered his hand and let Mira’s body drop to the ground. She fell flat on her face.

She looked up just in time to see Vern scoop up the ball and jog it back to his goal. The reality of what happened made her wince. In vain, Mira closed her eyes to block it out, but the sound of the cheering and hollering students snuck into her head. She grabbed at the grass and tore it out. She wanted to scream into the dirt, but instead she got up and started running away. Within moments she had left them behind completely.

***

Vern had a smile on his face as he rejoined the other students. He threw the ball out near the center of the field for the next match, and sat down assuming a relaxed and comfortable posture, as though he were at the beach.

“You idiot! Why didn’t you just attract the ball?” Aoi shouted, snapping him out of his effervescent arrogance. But Vern complacently lounged on the forest floor, paying little attention to the other students’ matches or to the people around him. He rolled through his next match as easily as he did his first, quickly returning to his spot by the tree while it was still warm. He nodded off for a minute, justifying the snooze in his mind with the belief that it exuded confidence if he appeared relaxed. Aoi once again had the pleasure of stomping on his leisure.

“Get off your butt! You’ve gotta go against Roselyn now,” she laughed. A sour and disappointed frown immediately formed on Vern’s face. This wouldn’t be fun at all. Getting up and walking onto the field felt more like removing a splinter than an exciting competition.

He gazed at the flower with the blonde curls standing at the other end of the field. Roselyn had the same relaxed appearance, mixed with just a hint of timidity.

She called out to him after she noticed his spiteful glance. “I’m sorry for what I’m going to do to you. I promise I’ll make it better after,” she said.

Vern tried to numb himself to what was coming. It put a bad taste in his mouth and he cringed. “Yeah, just do what you gotta do.”

He posed with one foot forward, ready for action, while Roselyn stood flat-footed with her hands together. Fortst dropped his arm to signal the start of the match.

As soon as Vern took off, Roselyn opened her mouth and began to sing three rising notes. Vern reached for the ball, which left the ground and rapidly began moving in his direction. But he struggled to bring his hands up to catch the ball. He just didn’t have the energy to do it.

Roselyn’s three notes, hanging and swooning in the air, repeated over and over again. Holding the ball, all he had to do was turn and toss it into his goal, but that seemed so hard. It lay just a few feet away.

An overwhelming sadness swept over him. He didn’t care about the competition anymore. It just didn’t matter now. He held the ball loosely in his hands, but he couldn’t think about anything except the big empty world and his purposeless life. This miserable feeling made him wonder if this were all a terrible waste of time. He should just quit.

“Give me the ball,” Roselyn said. She appeared a foot away from Vern, and reached out to take the ball. From the break in her singing, Vern felt his intractable apathy give way to the slightest emotion, the mildest impulse. Mustering himself in the most minimal way, he dropped his arm back and let the ball roll out onto the ground behind him.

He felt worthless and regretful, and he began apologizing to Roselyn. She watched the ball roll behind him and stop just inside his goal. Shifting her attention back to Vern, she again sang her notes. The life returned to his face and soon he felt normal again, like nothing had happened.

“Congratulations,” she said, showing no emotion over the result. She quietly walked off the field. Expelling a sigh of relief and resuming his smug behavior, Vern relished that he had made it to the finals and his goal of retaining his class leadership was within reach. A tinge of nerves tightened his chest and he made fists with his hands.

Fixing his eyes on the other semifinalists, he watched a match between Aoi and a boy named Will, who had short, light-brown hair and a boyish face. The two fought and fought, and Vern hoped and hoped, but his hopes were dashed when Aoi stuffed the ball into her own goal. It became obvious at the end that she had been toying with him. Egging himself on, he stalked out onto the field, ready for the match he knew would come all along.

Roselyn leaned against a tree along the sideline with her best friend, Mary, a flighty girl and something of a scatterbrain. Mary couldn’t take her eyes off of Vern, and Roselyn put her hand to her mouth and chuckled when she noticed it. “And I thought you told me everything. Figures you would leave out the juiciest detail of all.”

“You’re crazy! Don’t be jumping to conclusions just because I happen to like looking at his face.” Mary protested, blushing and returning her eyes to the field.

“It all comes down to this,” Fortst said, striking a thoughtful pose. “No surprises yet.”

Vern worked through his strategy over and over in his mind. He cast his eyes around at all of his watchful classmates before returning them on the ground to focus. He needed to get this over quickly. The longer the match lasted, the more likely he would lose. He took his place on the end line of his own goal and caught the eyes of his opponent.

“I’m so nervous!” Aoi said with malicious glee. Vern gulped and they both took a ready position. Fortst threw down his arm and the competitors began sprinting forward to the center.

Extending his hand, Vern pulled the ball toward him. From its state of rest, it suddenly jumped into Vern’s hands. He turned to throw the ball into his own goal, but before he could release it Aoi’s hands were already on him. She stripped the ball from him with a lightning quick motion, extended her leg behind Vern’s, and tripped him over it. His back hit the ground with a thud, and his feet extended into the air.

Aoi, with a smile on her face, turned to sprint back to her goal. Her legs dug into the ground and each step launched her forward. She crossed the center of the field and soon her goal stood within reach. But she felt herself slow down drastically, and for a moment she was motionless, like when something is thrown into the air and it hangs for a second before falling.

She moved backward, tumbling in the air without touching the ground. Vern, with his hand reaching out, got back on his feet. Aoi roared as she fell, completely out of control of her body and picking up speed. Vern cradled his head with his other arm before Aoi collided into his shoulder, knocking him back. Vern, Aoi, and the ball shot backward several feet, landing inside of Vern’s goal. All of the students ran out onto the field and crowded around them, cheering.

“Well done! Well done, both of you!” Fortst yelled. “A razor-thin victory.” After Aoi scrambled off of him, Vern could clearly see the joy on everyone’s faces. A feeling of triumph came to him, and he felt his cheeks glow, basking in their excitement.

“No one can stop us!” he hollered.

The group of students, each of them elated or distraught after the result, relished or reviled the hike back to the schoolhouse. Vern led the group, as he’d become accustomed to, and in his mind he could see straight through to a string of glorious victories over the course of the year. When he heard the others behind him talking about the new girl and her abrupt exit, he felt it was his duty to weigh in on the subject.

“You can’t blame her for losing or even feeling bad about it. She did have some tough competition,” he boasted.

“But she just ran away! You saw it yourself. Seems a little weird to me,” said Will.“I don’t really get where she came from,” Roselyn said with her best friend Mary on her shoulder. “How come I’ve never seen her around before? It’s like she just appeared out of thin air,” she said before continuing her conversation in private with Mary.

“And disappeared into it just as quickly,” Will added to Roselyn, becoming disappointed when he realized she wasn’t listening yet having no choice but to finish his thought. “I bet we never see her again.”

“I hope she comes back,” muttered a large but shy, shaggy-haired boy named Chucky. It didn’t take long for someone to speak up and make him regret speaking at all.

“You could take a lesson from her, Mucky Chucky,” Vern snapped at him, turning to push him further behind them. Chucky settled in quietly with some of the other sulkers.

“Why is she so shy about her power though?” Will said, speaking up again. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“We’ll find out eventually,” Vern said. “It’s not something you can hide.”

“You better hope not,” Will laughed. “Who knows what her scream did? Maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow with your hair fallen out, or next week pudding will start flowing from your ears.”

Running his hand through his stylish hair, Vern suddenly felt his heart skip a beat. What did she do to him? He forced a quick chuckle and then looked forward to sink his head into his shoulders to hide a nervous cringe.

***

Jeana was ironing clothes and Kevin washed vegetables when they heard the front door slam. Both looked up to see Mira, out of breath and distraught, march up to her room. They commented that it was strange she didn’t offer them even the simplest greeting, and it didn’t take them long to figure out what the cause must have been.

Closing the doors and drawing the blinds, Mira created an insulated space in which to act out her frustrations. Seething, weeping, and feeling the scorn of injustice, she couldn’t believe that she was so different from everyone else around her.

She looked at herself in the mirror, tears running down her face. She remembered the motion that Vern made with his hands, and she looked at her own. It was so simple, just like reaching for a glass of water, and it had completely taken possession of her. Her own hands appeared so weak and useless. There must be something inside of them that she could trigger somehow.

Extending her hand in the same way, she looked for some sign of an effect. She tried it with tense muscles and relaxed muscles, quickly and slowly. She extended her other hand, tried a flat palm, and pointed with her fingers. Every successive failure reminded her of her weakness and compounded her misery.

She flailed about without purpose, hoping and praying for anything to happen. The mirror could fly off the wall and shatter against her skin, and she wouldn’t care. If the house burned down or the world disappeared, that would be fine too. She jerked her arms in all directions, spun around, and strained her eyes, rejecting in her head the truth that she was different.

Mira convulsed in hysterical agony, finally holding her sobbing head in her arms and slinking down on to her knees. Tears streamed from her puffy, red eyes. Her mind was incapable of coherent thought. Drifting onto her side, she felt the bare wood floor against her fingertips and her face.

She struggled in such a frenzy for so long until the last bit of strength keeping her awake finally gave out.

***

While she agonized over her problems, Jeana and Kevin listened to stomping feet and shaking ceiling boards. Every sound struck a sour note in their minds, painfully aware that she meant to keep her meltdown a secret. It distracted them from their activities, and they wished that every rattle would be the last.

“Shouldn’t we do something?” Jeana asked, unable to take anymore.

“Not if we want to help her,” Kevin responded. “If she doesn’t feel hurt, if she doesn’t feel all of the cuts and scratches in the center of her heart, then she will have no reason to change.”

“It still seems cruel to let her suffer like this,” Jeana said. “Why not just help her get through this, make her feel better, and then the pain will be gone.”

“I wish it could be that easy. If she had fallen and scraped her knee, I’d be the first to distract her from it. But this problem won’t disappear tomorrow or the next day. She needs to learn she can never escape from it, and this is just the beginning of her learning.”

He looked at his fretting wife and tried to change the subject. “Do you remember your senior year tournament trial?”

“Oh, of course. I made it through the first few rounds and finished in the top third. As long as I could get my hands on them I was fine. You should have seen these kids running away from me. But as soon as I came up against someone with an external gift I was finished.”

“I competed on the very same field Mira did today. It was tough, but I—”

“Finished first,” Jeana said, cutting him off. “Let me save you the trouble of bragging since I actually remember the last time we talked about this. You played with your opponents, trapping them, disorienting them, and fooling them into giving you the victory.”

“If you remember the last time we talked about this, why did you bother to repeat your story?”

“I’m not going to pass up a good opportunity to talk about myself,” Jeana smiled.

Chapter 6: The Toughest Medicine to Swallow

Although the bad taste in her mouth from the first day at the academy remained, Mira refused to give up so easily. While she acted shy before by accident, she returned resolved to spend the day in complete silence.

Taking her wobbly seat in the back, Mira avoided eye contact with any of the other students. She kept her head down when Fortst arrived, and even closed her eyes when he read the results of the previous day’s tournament. Mira’s name came at the very bottom, but she didn’t hear the sounds of any mocking students, mercifully.

During Fortst’s lecture, she squelched any temptation to answer questions, even when it meant no one would answer and Fortst would supply laughably inaccurate information. She stood behind the rest of the class at all times when they went out in the afternoon for field lessons, quickly slipping away before anyone else once class had ended.

This pattern of behavior became routine for her. For a handful of days she had managed to avoid interacting with anyone at all. It dug at her though, and she often bit her lip as one does when doing something unpleasant but necessary. Disappointment and jealousy rippled through her when other students laughed and played together. Boys and girls flirted and held hands, but she wasn’t involved in any of it. It got to the point where Mira believed the other students were as used to ignoring her as she was to ignoring them.

“Ok, students,” Fortst said, beginning his lecture. “We’ve talked about knowing your surroundings, and we’ve talked about battle formations, but the most important thing you can know is yourself. You’ve got to know exactly what you’re capable of. You need to be aware of your strengths, and you absolutely must know where and how you are vulnerable—your weaknesses.

“How about we try writing about this? Take out a piece of paper, and write a few sentences about what your power allows you to do and what you can’t do with it. Think about how someone might be able to get around your defenses and attack you. Ok? Go to it.”

Like the other students, Mira took out a sheet of paper, but it just sat there on her desk. Everyone else had begun writing, while Mira scratched her head. This assignment didn’t apply to her. She tried to think about who she was, and looked around at the students in her class who she had begun to get to know. She wrote the words “helpless,” “hopeless,” and “useless.”

“Let’s see if we can’t get a few students to share their ideas with us. Do we have any volunteers?” Fortst surveyed the class. One girl raised her hand. “Ok, Dot, go ahead.”

Dot, a dark-haired, strong-looking girl stood up to read her paper.

“As you know, my gift is accuracy. My body knows how hard I need to throw something and in what direction to hit something else. That’s what I’m capable of. I’m not capable of starting fires with my mind or reading other people’s thoughts or turning water into apple juice or anything else. My weakness is chocolate cake. I just can’t stop myself from eating it. Thank you,” she sat down.

“Wait, wait, stand back up again,” Fortst said. “That was great, but it wasn’t what I meant at all. So with accuracy, you can throw things and they will always hit what you aim for, but what’re your limits? How far can you throw? What is the heaviest thing you can throw? And for your power to work at all, you have to have something to throw, right?

“And by weaknesses I don’t mean all the things you can’t do or what food you can’t stop eating, I mean how could someone turn your power against you, or avoid falling victim to it. So you would be vulnerable in a place with no stones. Maybe a zigzagging target would be able to avoid what you throw. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Dot nodded her head and sat back down.

“Who else wants a go? How about you in the back? We haven’t heard from you in a while.” Mira, stunned, realized that he wanted her to speak. She looked at him incredulously but still rose from her seat.

“But Mr. Fortst!” she said in a forceful whisper.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot.” Mira quickly sat back down, and Fortst called on another student, but that exchange aroused smirks and quizzical glances from her peers. A student named Kurt stood up with his paper in hand.

“I don’t get tired. I can run around the world and never have to stop, but there are limits to how fast I can run. I still sleep a couple of hours a night, so somebody could catch me then. Otherwise in a fight my muscles don’t get tired, so that’s a strength, It’s just too bad I don’t have that much muscle to begin with.”

“Good, ok. That’s more what I’m looking for. Thank you. Let’s move on.”

***

For the rest of the day, Mira felt a surge of anger simmering in her gut. She felt it bubble inside her every time Fortst spoke. He had almost broke his promise and revealed her secret. But time passed and it seemed like nothing would come of it. Just as she had become accustomed to, she bolted for the door as soon as Fortst told them to get out. She shuffled across the clearing on her way to the trail.

“Mira, wait!” She recognized Vern’s voice, and he wasn’t far behind her. A meeting seemed unavoidable, so she stopped and turned.

“What?” she asked. He scratched his head, unsure of how to begin.

“I need to know what your power is. You need to tell me. I can’t figure out what you did and I need to know.” A forceful glare came into his eyes that frightened Mira. The other students who trickled out of the schoolhouse took notice of this confrontation and they collected around Vern.

“Look, I don’t know what you did and it’s driving me crazy,” he said, taking another step forward. “Just tell me!” Some others echoed his calls. Trying to back up, she felt herself press against a tree. They had cornered her and were shouting at her to tell them.

“Come on!” Vern yelled over the grating chatter of the group. His anger incited her own and she wanted to push him so far away that she would never have to look at him again.

“I don’t have a power, ok? I just screamed and it didn’t do anything to you. I can’t do anything! Are you happy now?” She had shouted at the top of her lungs and now she gasped for breath.

Suddenly everything became quiet. Vern and the rest stared at her with blank faces. Their mouths hung open and they stood motionless. Mira looked at them, and she tried to comprehend the state of their minds. Combinations of shock, disbelief, awe, confusion, wonder, and contempt crept over their faces.

Becoming annoyed with the blank stares, Mira took one more look at Vern as she motioned to leave. The edges of his lips curled upward, his mouth opened, and laughter spurted out. Soon all of the students were laughing together.

“Pff, can’t do anything! That’s even worse than Mucky Chucky, and the only thing he can do is sweat oil!” Vern gawked, doubling over.

“Hey!” said a deep voice within the crowd, but it could barely be heard over the laughter. Mira couldn’t tolerate any more, and so she elbowed her way through the crowd, tired of being the source of everyone’s amusement. Walking down the path, she could tell that no one followed her. Hazarding a quick glance back, she noticed the students had formed something of a circle, and it pained her to imagine what they might be saying.

The emotional toll of her revelation weighed on her more with every step she took. By the time she got home, her feelings of worthlessness and loneliness became the air she breathed and the blood pumping through her heart. Walking became difficult, and she wanted to collapse. Once she got home, she quietly snuck up to her room without drawing the attention of her mother, feeling too sad for tears.

***

Mira didn’t leave her room again that day. Her parents became concerned when the next morning rolled around and she didn’t come down. Kevin seemed ready to let her work it out on her own, but Jeana gave him a look that clearly told him Mira wouldn’t be the only one with a problem if he didn’t go up there and do something.

A moment later, he rapped his fist against the wooden door, hesitantly pushing it open after a muffled voice told him to enter. He found her sitting on her windowsill with her knees held tight to her chest. She still had her pajamas on, and she stared blankly at the world outside. Thinking about what kind of intense wrestling she did in her mind to come to terms with being different, he leaned against the other side of the large window.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you getting ready to go?”

He spoke softly, afraid the slightest hint of criticism would make her break down.

“I’m not going to school,” she said. Some of her brown hair drifted in front of her almond eyes, but she seemed too forlorn to do anything about it.

“Why not? What’s the problem?”

“I can’t do it. I have to quit. I hate being there. The other students hate me. The teacher doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It’s just so unfair and so awful to be a fool at everything no matter what.”

Kevin sighed and held his hand to his daughter’s. She squeezed it.

“You were right, Dad. You were right before when you said I’d be making a mistake if I wanted to see the truth. This is worse. It’s so much worse. How could I have wanted something so terrible so badly? Please, make the walls again. I never want to leave. It’s just unbearable.”

She brushed away the world outside her window. Looking at her, Kevin remembered the curious and adventurous girl she used to be. That image of her seemed so distant in this moment.

“Believe me, Mira, you were the one who was right. Living in a fantasy land isn’t living. We all have to live with what’s out there, and there’s no way we can hide from it. Sure, I could make the walls again, but you’d still have to live with what you’ve seen and what you know. It wouldn’t change anything, least of all your special place in the world.”

“So what am I supposed to do, go back out there so people can laugh at me and terrorize me? Why bother when I’ll never do anything more than take up the last space on a list of class rank?”

“I’d say you have two options,” Kevin said, speaking more firmly. “You can either give up, hide in your room, and let yourself become exactly what you’re afraid of, or you can fight as hard as you can and find out exactly who you are and what you’re made of.”

“But I did! I tried as hard as I could,” Mira scowled. “And I ended up in the dirt. I never had a chance.”

“Okay. Okay. I hear you, but I’m going to teach you something right now. Trying as hard as you can doesn’t mean just pushing your muscles until they give out. Every problem, every situation, and everyone has an answer. If you’re smart enough and aware enough then you can figure out what the solution is.

“You see, just because you don’t have a power doesn’t mean there isn’t something you can do to give yourself an advantage. Take me, for instance. You might think because I can influence water molecules that I’d be a great swimmer, but I sink like a rock and your mother beats me every time. That has nothing to do with her power. Now, let’s see if we can apply this to your situation. How would you describe your classmates?”

Mira thought about this question for a moment.

“I’d say they are lazy, thoughtless, and not really all that smart.”

“Ok, so how do you beat someone who doesn’t work hard, doesn’t focus, and doesn’t think?”

Mira, finding the answer plainly obvious, had to chuckle at his point, but it still seemed impossible to overcome. “But I did think, and I did try. And it didn’t work out at all!”

“I don’t think you’re using all of the tools available to you. I’m sure you could put together something to help you out. You said before even the teacher doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What is there that you know that could be used to help?”

It did not take Mira long to realize what she knew that could help her. It was what she spent her free time thinking about and what she sunk all of her creative energy into. A light bulb clicked on in her mind, grew hot, and exploded, leaving little pieces of excitement and possibility strewn about.

“Ok, I’ll give it another shot. Maybe this time it’ll be different. But do you think I can have today to get everything together?” she asked.

“That sounds fair to me,” Kevin agreed, getting up and moving toward the door. Before he could pull it closed, Mira stopped him.

“Thank you, Dad. That helped.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he said with a warm smile.

***

Mira spent most of the day in the basement organizing her materials and drafting plans. She looked at the things she had already built, a drill, little robotic toys that could scuttle about, and flashlights. None of them seemed powerful enough or particularly well suited to her needs. Still, she started developing ideas.

Heading to the schoolhouse early the next morning, she spent some time repairing the wobble and the crack in her desk. She had just about finished when the other students began to show up. Some of her tools and sawdust cluttered the nearby area, but the desk looked like the best one in the house.

“Well, look who decided to show up. It’s a good thing too. We could use a good laugh,” Will said as he came in behind a few others.

“I suggest that you stop,” Mira said with a severe tone.

“Why?” he laughed. “Are you going to use your imaginary power on me? Better make it a cool one this time.”

“No,” she said, “but I promise you’ll regret it.”

“What? What are you going to do?” he said, blowing unnaturally powerful gusts that made her flinch. Fortst arrived soon enough, and Will turned around, thinking he’d gotten the last laugh. But during lunchtime, while the students were making trips to the outpost or eating out in the grass, Mira quickly made a few alterations to his desk.

From her own desk, she watched the students file in after their lunch break ended. Will rushed in and threw himself into his seat only to have it collapse underneath him. He emitted a girlish whelp and the other students burst into laughter. He got up and started looking around, puzzled.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mira said, opening her hand and revealing a few nails, “but I needed to borrow these.” The others around them laughed at Will even harder, knowing that the weakest among them had done it. Will grew red-faced and took a deep breath, preparing to generate a great gust, but he stifled it when he realized so many other students sat in front of his target. He had to sit on the floor until they went out for field lessons.

Mira answered every question she could that day. She gave long, detailed replies explaining the trajectory of projectiles and the forces involved in physics of throwing. She went on and on with examples, even going into tangents, only deciding to stop when the bugs began to bother her. She didn’t care what anyone thought, sure no one else could really understand what she said anyway, even though she spoke as plainly as possible.

“All movement is caused by a force pushing an object over a distance. And all forces work in pairs. So while your arm pushes against the stone you are throwing, the stone pushes against your arm too. If you could measure the speed of your arm using the same amount of force, once with the stone and once without, you could identify the force of that stone by how much slower your arm moves. Actually, Dot could probably do that pretty easily.” But she stopped suddenly, again distracted by some pestering mosquitoes.

It only took a few times for her to realize that the bugs only bothered her when she started speaking. She noticed ants on her shoes too, which she tried to brush away. Some students giggled, and she immediately knew this was not an accident. She started watching the other students, especially while she spoke. By the end of the day she had a good idea as to the source of the problem.

After school let out, Mira jogged to catch up to one boy who walked down the forest trail.

“Hey, you’re Jeremy, right? What do you do with insects?”

Jeremy didn’t turn back to look at her. Mira followed close behind, looking at the back of his greasy, dark hair.

“Whatever I want. Move things around, make them fight, encourage people to shut up. That kind of thing,” he said. He took another step, tripped, and suddenly fell flat on the ground. He quickly wiped the dirt from his face and looked back at his feet. His foot tripped over a wire that extended across the trail.

“Be careful not to squish any of your friends,” she said, stepping over her wire.

She walked away confidently and quickly. She turned the corner at the forest’s edge and began to work her way home. Another student hobbled along the road, and Mira motioned to pass her. She had not yet spoken to this girl, whose name was Mary, but she noticed a scrape on her knee with a little bit of blood. It made her look up at Mary’s face.

“I’m actually still not sure exactly what my gift is,” she said. “But I could tell you are different from the moment I first saw you. Dot’s parents knew what she could do before they could even name her, but I still don’t know. There’s something about you—”

“That’s nice,” Mira interrupted. She left the girl behind and pushed further on up the road, choosing to focus her thoughts on other peers who needed to be taught a lesson.

***

Mira arrived at school the next day to find that her desk had been switched with another. Setting a pencil on the desk, she watched it roll to the side and fall on the floor. She glanced at the legs of the other desks and spotted the new light-brown board supporting the weight of Aoi. It didn’t make sense to her for someone to steal something when it would be so obvious.

The students waited patiently for Fortst to arrive, but they became nervous when he showed up with a suspiciously nasty smirk. His pants and shoes were dirty and had red splotches all over them.

“Today, we’re going to have a field training day. Just wait and see what I have in store for you. It’s gonna be a blast!”

Coming out from behind his lectern, he waved his arm and beckoned for the students to follow. Striding so quickly that even his coattails had trouble following, he led them out into the forest.

“You see, we’ve got to simulate some intensity, some stress. The most important thing I can teach you is how to keep your head on your shoulders when things get a little crazy. Better be careful and better be quick or you’re gonna end up a big mess.”

Climbing over fallen trees and avoiding spider webs, they drew deeper into the forest. Less light filtered down through the colorful leaves and small animals scurried in the undergrowth. The landscape dipped suddenly, and Mira wondered if they were close to Cloud Cottage.

“Are we there yet?” Dennis droned.

“You’re in for a long day if you’re already tired,” Fortst retorted. A cool breeze shot through the trees, blowing down a few leaves. The students began to make out unnatural formations amongst the trees in the distance.

“What did you make?” Vern asked, trying to match Fortst’s pace.

“I’ve been working on this for a while. My goal is that you won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow.”

Vern, deflated, slackened his pace.

The students’ jaws dropped when they saw the strange creation before them. Toppled trees clumped together in haphazard fashion, forming piles and divots in the earth. Red footprints criss-crossed the course and led to mostly empty cans of paint lying along the edges. They spotted ropes and planks, chains and sheet metal. All together, they formed a jagged and unstable conglomeration.

“Did you have to knock over so many pretty trees!?” Mary moaned.

“Your goal is to make it through the day wearing as little red paint as possible. Just follow the arrows. The three students with the fastest times and the least paint will be captains for the Team Trial, the second competition of the year, which might not be as far away as it seems,” he said, noting the brisk wind. “Ok, let’s get started. Are you ready?” he called.

“No,” the students responded, still carrying their packs and not entirely out of the forest.

“Tough! Go!” he laughed.

Everyone threw down their bags and scampered out into the uneven, perplexing terrain.

“Oh, come on!” Dot howled, her foot sinking into a hidden hole and coming up covered in red paint. Fortst laughed heartily.

“You’re only a few feet in! That’s not a good start.” The students kept a vigilant eye on each step as they ran through the short grass to what appeared to be the start of the course. Mira struck a comfortable stride and allowed herself to feel optimistic about the day’s challenge. Everyone would have to rely on their legs and their hands to get them through. Carefully dodging another pitfall, she even started to think about the possibility of being a team captain and how nice that would be considering her dreadful performance in the tournament trial.

Rushing forward, the ground became sandier and they came to the first imposing obstacle, the bottoms of several overturned trees blocked their vision and reached up just over their heads. Red paint covered some of the roots leading up the wall.

Kurt led the bulk of the students to the overturned tree’s base. Dennis and Chucky were already lagging far behind. Leaping at the roots, Kurt struggled to make his way up, eventually grasping a painted root to avoid falling back down to the ground. He wiggled and clamored his way up over the mound’s top only to let out a loud cry once he left sight. The next wave of students, Mira among them, peeked above the precipice and saw Kurt muddling his way forward with a sandy, red arm. They kept to the edges to avoid the deceptive looking sand between the tree trunks.

The space between the parallel tree trunks looked like a pool of paint. Balancing themselves on the trunks, they navigated around branches that got in their way. Many of them already struggled for breath and slowed down.

The sound of forceful air caught Mira’s ear and she turned back to see Will blow Jeremy into the trough. Splashing, Jeremy leapt at the other trunk but not before his legs and arms were covered. Glowering, he sent centipedes and moths erupting from the log to latch onto Will, who flailed wildly at them and barely avoided slipping into the pit.

The scene struck her with alternating sensations of optimism and fear. Jeremy seemed to be the worst casualty thus far, but the threat of powers reminded her that the field was not as level as she thought. Noticing Aoi only a few paces behind her, Mira moved with a new urgency. Disappointed and spiteful wails came from the pack as more students struggled to avoid the red paint.

After making it through the tops of the fallen trees, the students came to a mountain of rugged plant matter. Chains held trunks of various sizes, stripped of their branches, together. Kurt, still in the lead, scrambled up the disjointed heap. Trees shifted under his weight as he hopped from log to log. About to disappear over the top, he suddenly couldn’t muster any forward momentum. He strained to hold himself in place, and looked back in anger. Struggling against Vern, his fingers grasped the exterior of a tree. When the bark gave way, Kurt fell through the heap rather than back down it.

Attempting to find stable footing, the next group of students peeked through the cracks to find Kurt waist deep in paint. He searched the perimeter for a space to crawl out. Vern, Roselyn, and Rowland pushed themselves up and up. Mira opted to scale a single trunk that led diagonally up toward the top. She put her weight on it, and it seemed to hold firmly. Her eyes on the closing gap between the first group, it startled her when the log beneath her suddenly shifted.

Looking back, Aoi had the log in her hands. She began shaking it back and forth, which caused Mira to slip and clutch the log with her hands and legs.

“Stop, please!” she yelled. Aoi rotated the log until Mira was on the bottom with nothing but a pool of paint beneath her. The log shook up and down, forcing her hands to lose their grip. She hung helplessly, legs wrapped around the log, staring down at the end of her hopes for being a captain. She struggled to keep her arms and hair out of the paint.

But her legs held and Aoi soon began to scramble up herself. She passed Mira, still dangling from the log.

“I thought you’d look good in red,” she taunted.

Mira eventually pulled herself up. Seeing Will and Jeremy, fighting their way to her, she frantically scaled the hill. At the top, there was no safe place to go except into the branches of a large, still-standing tree. She leapt into the thick branches that the others had used before her, which now featured red streaks that stained her fingers.

Climbing up and up, she looked for a suitable place to cross over to the next tree. She paused and glanced back at those behind her. A few students neared the top of the heap, though they looked exhausted and worn. The students who straggled before now sat on the fallen tree trunks and rested. One student in particular seemed to be covered in a slick, dark substance. Mira looked ahead to Aoi some ways above her. The prospect of passing her seemed grim, but she remained hopeful anyway.

She swung among the tree limbs, listening to the sounds of those in front of her and not to her tired arms and legs. The ground was covered in paint, and so she hopped from branch to branch, tree to tree. Farther along, the ground became safe to walk on, and Mira lowered herself down. She dropped onto a narrow path, just avoiding prickly brambles on either side.

Looking back again, she spotted a group of students, led by Kurt, who had elected to sacrifice their shoes and lower legs to the paint in order to save the time of climbing through the trees. Startled, she took off down the path at a break-neck pace. The trail swooped left and right, back and forth for much longer than Mira thought it would. Settling into a more sustainable pace, she pushed along the seemingly endless path. From her place on the trail, she couldn’t see anyone in front or behind her. The only paint here came from odd footprints.

Seeing only a few spots and drips on her, Mira hypothesized that she must be close to the best in that respect. She’d kept a strong pace, and so she had to be gaining on the leaders too, who possessed no special endurance to her knowledge.

Swinging around another bend, the trail suddenly split into three. Arrows pointed down each of the three trails. Jogging in place, she strained to figure out which was the correct trail. She quickly noticed that the trail on the left had no paint, the trail in the middle had some, and the trail to the right had paint on every surface, dripping from above, and covering the brambles and ground. Only a few stepping-stones appeared safe.

Pressure swelled inside of her and her heart raced. “Which way?” she said aloud. Tracks led off in each direction, meaning that if she chose the right way she would be sure to advance a few places. She tried to think about what Fortst did.

“He wouldn’t have wasted much time putting paint on a trail that wasn’t the right one, would he?”

Satisfied with her logic, and hearing footsteps behind her, she went for the painted trail on the right. She hopped from stone to stone, unavoidably getting paint on her shoes. She almost lost her balance once, and so she had to reach out and put her hand on a bright red tree trunk. It felt disgusting, both because it made her fingers stick together and because it hurt her standing.

She heard students at the intersection behind her. They too puzzled over which direction to take. She turned back and called to them.

“It’s this way!” she hollered, thinking it better to have them behind her than possibly pick the right trail if she were wrong. They responded and took to the painted trail, which proved more difficult for them to navigate because only one student could fit on a stepping-stone at a time. Almost nearing the end, Mira heard an argument break out amongst them. If it led to a scuffle, they would surely be out of the game.

Hopping over the last stretch of paint, she resumed her frantic pace. The trail turned to the left and immediately rejoined with the other splits in the path.

“You can’t be serious!” she groaned. She took a quick but longing look at the paint-free left trail that she could have quickly and easily taken. Pushing down the path for another ten minutes, she felt like she did when she had run around the trails in the woods behind her home. Remembering the undulations, she picked up speed and felt like she could hold it forever.

She wished her parents could come down to see her or she could run home for a snack. The trail straightened out and she saw Vern and Aoi in front of her. “Please start fighting,” she pleaded in her mind. Farther down the trail she could see Fortst and the finish.

Mira sprinted after them as fast as her legs could carry her, but they were just too far ahead and there was not enough room to catch up. As she closed on the finish, she saw that Roselyn had finished first, and she watched Vern and Aoi pass Rowland in the final stretch.

Crossing the line, she took a few hobbled steps and gasped for breath. Fortst seemed impressed with her finish though, and he gave her an encouraging cheer. Mira started scanning those who finished before her for paint to see if she might actually be ahead of them. Rowland had a fair amount on him, but the others seemed almost clean.

“Mr. Fortst, did you say you would measure how much paint people had at the end of the race or the end of the day?” she asked.

“We’ll do all that when we get back to the schoolhouse after lunch,” he said.

A few more students made their way down the final stretch, and all those who had finished, except Mira, came over to cheer on their friends. Some of those coming in had red paint covering every inch of their bodies. After finishing, they tried to squeeze it out of their clothes. Slower students started coming in, those who were dead tired and those who had spent more time fighting than running. The class’s big men, Dennis and Chucky, came in long after, walking down the final stretch.

“Yay!” they cheered, faking enthusiasm while Fortst gave them harsh glances. Chucky was covered in smeary, thick oil. Mira chuckled, realizing why everyone always called him “Mucky Chucky.”

Now that everyone had returned, the students dug through their packs for lunch. Trying their best not to add a healthy amount of red paint to their food, they used leaves to help with the handling. Most of the students sat together in the short grass, avoiding the potholes, and a few sat in the shade. Mira sat alone up against the trunk of a tree. She nibbled at her food with her paint-free hand and watched the other students.

After a while Aoi walked across her line of sight. Mira scrambled to put down her food and stand up.

“It’s too bad all that strength can’t help you do something about those front teeth!”

“What did you say?” Aoi said, astonished and stopping dead to turn and face Mira.

“If you were any smaller people might mistake you for a rabbit.” Mira crossed her arms and stuck her chin out.

“You never done anything so dumb in your whole life!” Aoi said, clenching her fists and striding up to Mira.

“What’s that? No, I don’t have any cheese, little miss mouse,” she retorted, putting her hand to her ear.

“You asked for it!” Aoi cocked her fist back and jerked it forward, but Mira ducked out of the way and Aoi’s punch struck the tree. The bark cracked and the tree shook. A bucket of paint, tied to the branch right above Aoi with a tape measure, shook loose and dumped its contents down on Aoi’s head. She froze in shock when the cold, wet substance splattered down on her head and shoulders. Everyone turned to look.

“You better have another trick up your sleeve because you’re in big trouble now!” she screamed. But Mira did not have another trick, and her face turned grave and pale. Aoi effortlessly launched Mira through the air with a sideways push, which sent her flying into the trunk of another tree. She collided with it and came down hard on her ankle.

Before she had time to move, Aoi was on her again. A terrifying look in her eyes, she cocked her fist back for another punch, but this time Forst stepped in. He caught her punch with one hand and lifted her by the stomach with the other. Aoi rocketed upwards, snapping a few twiggy branches and clearing the top of the tree by twenty feet.

“No fighting!” Fortst bellowed, while Aoi’s ascension slowed. She hung weightlessly in the air for a moment before quickly falling back down into Fortst’s arms. He set her down and looked at the girls. Mira couldn’t get up and tears trickled down her cheeks, even though she restrained herself from any overt pouting.

“What’s the problem here?” he said. “You better believe I’m not one to miss out on a fight, so the next one who starts anything will have to take me on as well!”

Fortst looked to make sure all the students were listening, and Aoi returned to the group.

“Ok, let’s pack everything up and head back to the school house!” he ordered. He started to walk away when Mira spoke up.

“I can’t get up,” she said, muffling her sniffling. Fortst jerked back and took a look at her ankle, already red and swollen.

“This looks serious. We’d better get you home as quickly as possible.”

Carrying her on his shoulder, Fortst marched through the woods. The students, still wearing the paint they couldn’t rub off, followed behind. Arriving at the school, the students lined up so Fortst could announce the winners. At the end of the line, Mira sat down on the grass. Her nerves built up in anticipation of the results.

“Everyone did a great job today. I’ll turn you lot into fearsome fighters yet! So, finishing in first place is Roselyn!” The students clapped weakly as Roselyn stepped out of the line to join Fortst. “For second place, Vern beat out Aoi by a hair. There you have it, the three captains for the team competition!”

“Wait a second!” Mira burst out. “Aoi is soaked in paint and she couldn’t have finished more than fifteen or twenty seconds ahead of me! And Rowland only had me by ten seconds and he has a lot more paint too. How much paint equals how much time?”

“Ehhh heh heh. That’s a good question,” Fortst said. He looked around sheepishly. “Enough to give you fourth place. Congratulations!”

Trying to get out of this sticky situation as quickly as possible, he promptly dismissed the class. The students, excited about the weekend, ran in all directions as they gathered their things and prepared to leave. Mira, steaming, remained stranded on the ground.

“The least you could do is carry me home!” she shouted. Up on his shoulder, the only thing that could distract her from the pain of her ankle was imagining ways to get back at the man who carried her. If he had to learn to take her seriously too, then so be it.

Jeana met them upon Mira’s return and immediately flew into a raging panic.

“What happened? Where did all this blood come from? How could you let this happen, Mr. Fortst? Of all the irresponsible things!”

“It’s just paint, Mom, not blood. I did hurt my ankle though, and I can’t walk on it.”

The bloodthirsty look that Jeana had made Fortst recoil with more discomfort than he had back at the schoolhouse.

“Just wanted to make sure you got home ok. Great job today,” Fortst muttered, turning tail to run for it and not daring to look back.

***

Mira couldn’t get out of bed the next morning. It didn’t help that the pain prevented her from staying asleep no matter how many times her mother worked her magic on her. Restlessly, she twisted and turned but couldn’t find a comfortable position. She wished for anything, anything that would make the pain go away.

Soon the darkness receded from her room and the sun shone through the window. Jeana said she would run into town, dragging the healer against her will if necessary. While waiting for her mother to return, Kevin kept her company, feeding her breakfast and playing silly games with her.

“Finally!” Mira exclaimed when she heard the front door open. Creaking steps meant they were ascending the stairs, and soon Jeana and another woman entered Mira’s bedroom.

“Hi, I’m Nora the healer,” the other woman said. She only had hair on the left side of her head, the length of which gradually increased the closer it got to her ear.

“Hi,” Mira replied, barely able to look away from her ragged, patchy hair.

“What seems to be the problem?” Nora asked.

“My ankle has transformed into a tomato. Ok, that was a joke. Sorry. It just really hurts and I think it’s broken,” she said.

“Ok, well either way I have just the thing for you,” she said.

“How do you heal, exactly?” Jeana asked.

“It’s pretty simple. She just needs some of my protein.” Nora took a pair of scissors out of her pocket and cut a hunk of hair from her head. She held the clump of scraggly hair in her hand.

“I recommend you cook it in something so it goes down easier.”

“How interesting,” Jeana said.

“Are you saying I need to eat that for my ankle to get better? I don’t think so!”

“Yes, it is interesting,” Nora replied to Jeana. “But you know I heard that with the healer in Darmen all you have to do is get in some water with him to be healed.”

“How far away is Darmen? Let’s go there!” Mira pleaded.

“Oh, it’s much too far,” Jeana said. “This is your best option.”

“You know, the body does heal itself. I could just wait it out.”

Nora looked at the inflamed ankle and stuck out a finger to poke it.

“Oww!” Mira yelped, which made her think of who had caused this injury.

“I don’t know. It looks pretty bad. You might have to stay in bed for weeks or months for it to recover fully.”

Disappointed and annoyed, Mira gave in.

“Ok, fine. Let’s get this over with. This is the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“I’ll put it in anything you want. How about your favorite, chocolate chip cookies?” Jeana asked.

“No, I think it would ruin them for me forever. Just throw it in some eggs or something. Might as well be something slimy and gross to begin with.”

Jeana returned a short time later with a plate of scrambled eggs. The hair poked out in all directions and the plate had a strange smell. Mira already felt she would be sick to her stomach.

“Ok, choke it down and you’ll be better in no time,” Nora cheered enthusiastically.

Mira raised a forkful of the yellow and brown concoction to her mouth. She had a horrid grimace, and having her parents and this strange woman watch her made it worse. Closing her eyes, she stuck the fork inside and immediately felt the hairs slide along the roof of her mouth. It tasted like old mayonnaise and rotten fish. She chomped down once and tried to swallow. The snaky hairs slithered down her throat.

“Yuck!”

“Don’t stop now. You’ve got to finish the plate.”

“I wouldn’t have to be doing this if I had something to defend myself with,” she said between mouthfuls. “And I’ve been thinking that the best thing would be if I didn’t have to fight at all and something else fought in my place.”

“You’ve got to be careful. Look at what happened to you yesterday,” Jeana said.

“I’m not any more fragile than anyone else. It’s just that they can inflict so much more damage. Some of them don’t even have powers that have anything to do with fighting, and so they’re in no better a position than I am. There’s this one girl, Mary, who doesn’t even know what her power is.”

“Well, what could you make that you could use?” Kevin asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t come up with anything good yet. A chemical probably wouldn’t be a good idea. There are so many reasons why conventional weapons like bows and arrows wouldn’t work. I need something that would prevent people from being able to hit me. I’ll have to think about it.”

By the time she finished the plate of hairy eggs, most of the pain had vanished. The healer left, Mira went back to sleep, and when she woke up later she found she could walk again. The next day, it seemed like the injury had never happened.

***

Mira went to school early Monday morning to repair the slant in her desk’s tabletop, but when she opened the door she was surprised to see that someone had already arrived. Vern sat at his desk, studying notes from Fortst’s lecture. Paying him no attention, she went to her work, but he turned around to look at her several times. Forcefully putting his pencil down, he got up from his desk and walked over to her. He stood over Mira, who had begun sawing a piece of wood.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“You’ve got to stop what you’re doing,” he said.

“It’s my desk now and I can fix it if I want,” she shot back.

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. You’ve got to stop fighting with everybody. I heard some people from our class talking over the weekend and they are terrified of you. They say you’re acting like a bully.”

“Me? A bully?” Mira said, getting up. “I haven’t done anything to anyone that wasn’t provoked. I’m not going to let people walk all over me or push me around, no matter how much hair I have to eat. And if they think it’s fair to use their powers on me and unfair for me to do what I can to get them back then that’s their problem.”

“Look, you started that fight with Aoi. We all saw it. You can’t be doing that. At the bottom of it all, we have to depend on each other and work together. I’ve got to know that we’re all on board here, because I’m the one who is meant to lead us when it’s all said and done. We all know Aoi is too impulsive and too short-tempered, and that would be dangerous for all of us, so I need everyone’s support to make sure I remain our leader.”

His point rang true with her, and she grudgingly accepted that being mean worked exactly as well as being invisible in the class when it came to making friends. She wanted to pout that it would be too difficult to be nice, remain assertive, and succeed as a competitor, but she would have to find a way.

Mira also noticed how his words kept drifting back to himself no matter what he was talking about. He was serious and honest, deeply believing what he said, but it gave Mira a weird feeling too.

“I realize this isn’t easy for you because of your condition. But I know what you’re going through.” At this, a wave of anger swept over her, and the nerve he struck stung and twitched.

“Don’t you dare pretend you know what it’s like to be me! To just be so much less than everyone else, pray you never know what it’s like. You couldn’t even imagine it!”

Her shouting startled him and he took an awkward step back, bumping into another desk. His expression softened and now appeared more sincere.

“How can you say you know what it’s like to be me when you don’t even know what it’s like to be you? I know more about you than you do!”

A puzzled look came across Vern’s face.

“It’s gravity! Your power doesn’t attract things to you. Things fall to you, just like this,” she said. Mira grabbed a nail from the seat of her desk, held it out to Vern in her hand, and let it slip between her fingers and drop to the ground.

“That is your power, but here’s what you don’t know. Gravity doesn’t just pull things to the ground. Gravity exists between any two objects anywhere in the universe. So you are already connected to all of the things you try to move; your power is just to amplify what is already there.

“And there are other things too,” she continued. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that the farther something is away from you, the less your power works on it. Right? That’s because the gravitational force of an object diminishes over a greater distance. Did you know that how big something is determines how much force it has to attract other objects? I bet you didn’t. If you read any of Flip Widget’s Science Manuals, you would know there’s a relationship between gravity and mass.”

“I have no idea who that is,” Vern said, but Mira kept right on talking.

“Think of how big the sun has to be to hold the Earth in place, or how big the Earth has to be to hold the moon in place. I bet if you tried to use your power on something that was too big you would fall toward it rather than it falling toward you. So if you wanted to become more powerful, you would need to gain more mass, and than means gaining weight, stick boy.”

“Really?” Vern asked, contemplating her words and looking down at his thin frame.

“Yes. And now the only thing left to figure out is exactly how powerful you are now. Come with me,” she said, grabbing two apples from her lunch pack and dragging Vern outside.

“The gravitational force of the Earth is 9.8 meters per second squared. Accounting for acceleration, objects will fall half that in the first second.”

Mira set one of the apples on a tree stump and used her tape measure to measure 4.9 meters.

“You stand here,” she said, indicating a spot under a tree. Having him hold the tape measure to the ground, she climbed into the tree and found a spot that was 4.9 meter high.

“Ok, if you are able to catch that apple before this one hits the ground then you are more powerful than the Earth, equal is equal, and you’re less powerful if you catch that apple after this one hits the ground. Oh, and don’t stick your arm out to shorten the distance. I’ll count to three. Ready? One, Two, Three!”

Simultaneously, Mira dropped her apple from up in the tree and Vern used his power on the other apple. She watched the one sink to the earth and the other move horizontally. Mira’s apple hit the ground first and a moment later Vern caught the other apple.

“Well, you’re not as powerful as the Earth,” she said, climbing out of the tree. She picked her apple up off the ground, and walked back into the schoolhouse.

“Don’t forget to give me that apple back. That’s my lunch,” she said.

Vern remained in the same spot with the apple in his hand for a long time.

Chapter 7: The Diamond Carafe

Weeks passed, the students trudged through thick piles of leaves to get to school, and their desks inched closer and closer to Dennis’s until they all clustered around it. The dropping temperatures and change of seasons left Fortst with fewer options for outdoor lessons, and so he got into the habit of spending great periods of time covering the important subject of history, his personal history.

“Back when I was your age, things were way, way different than they are now. We didn’t have big, organized wars, people trying to take over other people, not at all. Back in the day, great, solitary warriors roamed the landscape. We searched the vast unknown looking for something valuable we could bring home to our villages to prove how tough we were.

“Believe me, it wasn’t easy. The harsh environment offered little in the way of food. I’d go weeks without seeing another person. Often I’d have to carry all of my gear as I swum across lakes for days straight fighting monstrous aquatic life.”

“Tell us again how you had to eat fire for breakfast,” one student said.

“On occasion, it certainly wasn’t my favorite.”

“Could any of the sea monsters also fly?”

“Yes, there was one nasty critter that flapped his fins so hard he flew right up into the clouds, only to come back and attack me after I’d thought he was gone for good.”

“How many imaginary friends did you have?”

“Sometimes—wait, what?” Fortst finally caught on to the mocking tone of the students. “I’m not kidding around here! You have no idea what’s out there, and neither did we. We were just men out to prove there wasn’t nothing in the world we couldn’t handle. I’ll never forget those days, engaging in heated one-on-one duels from sun up to sundown, matching muscle against muscle, brain against brain, and power against power.

“My favorite nemesis, the only one who could bring me to the brink of defeat, was Arent. He was a muscular, cold-hearted guy, who probably hadn’t experienced enough joy in his life to fill a paper cup. He was from out west, and don’t I wish he’d stayed there. His grisly face showed up whenever I had a lead on something really great, or sometimes just to ruin my day.”

“Who was he?”

“Arent’s power was to send energy through his fingertips, and most things would end up exploding because of it. I’d heard from another wanderer that his village cast him out after he went on an angry rampage leveling most of the buildings to the ground. We’re talking that kind of serious destruction. If it weren’t for my lightning reflexes and all around incredible skill, I would have been toast from the get go, but as it was we were an even match.

“First time I saw him I was searching for a village to the east. Word got around that a previously unknown community existed, and I wanted the chance to trade with ‘em first. I’d been following some tracks that were leading me in the right direction. They were strange tracks that didn’t stay the same size or shape. Chased them down into a deep ravine with a stream flowing through it. All of a sudden the tracks end, and I look up to see a filthy man sitting on a rock.

“‘You’ve reached the end of the road,’ he said. I had a notion he knew more than he was letting on, so I told him he’d better start talking fast or he’d end up just like those tracks, finished. He had a funny way about him, and I noticed it then. Maybe it was just the thought of fighting, but all the emotion seemed to empty out of him, like a machine. Nobody upstairs. He started walking at me wiggling his fingertips and with this head-cocked-to-the-side dumbstruck stare. But that didn’t stop him from attacking me furiously and without mercy. We fought each other, trying to land a blow, but I didn’t even know his power until he grabbed a hold of my bag and suddenly all of my goods were blown apart on the ground.

“Next thing I knew those wiggly fingers were coming after me. He fought close, too close, and he managed to get a hand on my head. Surely it would have popped like a grape, but the rock I was leaning on crumbled to bits instead. I kicked him off me and had him down on the ground, but he grabbed a hold of my boot. Holes popped open in the leather and it burned my foot something awful. No matter how many times I hit him he didn’t seem to flinch.

“I ended up throwing him in the water, a place he obviously didn’t want to go, and his power had a strange effect. The water started bubbling and running real fast. It swept him clear out of sight. But the damage had already been done. He destroyed my goods and injured my foot, leaving me with no choice but to go back. It’s a shame, but that’s how it was in those days.”

***

“How much of all that is true?” Mira asked, tagging along with a few other students on the way to the outpost market.

“Bits and pieces make sense. That hidden group of people they used to look for ended up attacking us, and that’s how the war started. But I think he’s just saying most of it to make himself look good. There’s no way he won all those battles against ultra-powerful people nobody’s ever heard of,” Will said.

“Don’t you think if he’d lost any of them he wouldn’t be around to tell us about it?” Mary prodded.

“I guess, assuming they even happened in the first place. I’m not saying the guy hasn’t been in fights—he sure does like them—but he could at least be reasonable about telling it. Last time I checked I wasn’t five anymore,” Will replied.

“Oh yeah, and where do you check when you want to know how old you are?” Mira asked, looking him up and down.

“Right here!” Will replied, indicating some patchy facial hair with pride.

“It might look more manly if you evened it out with some of the hair from the afro growing in your armpits,” Mary teased.

The group reached the market in the outpost courtyard, splitting up to buy candy from different vendors. Mira felt comfortable here now. She no longer gawked at the different styles of clothing or hesitated to approach a merchant when she wanted to buy something. The coins in her pocket came from her mother, who decided to casually give her some money after catching wind that her classmates socialized at the market after school.

Mira always wondered at all of the different kinds of food available and how little of it her parents had ever brought home to her. Instead of always heading for the sugary snacks, Mira liked to walk around and pick out something she had never eaten before.

Walking around the market with a star-shaped fruit, she met up with the other students again. Their lips smacked with candy and chocolate.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

The other students looked at each other, all of them hesitant to speak. Mira thought for a second that they were going to ignore her, but then Will spoke up.

“We’re going to my house to play Makara,” he said.

“Makara? I’ve never heard of it.” The other boys and girls snickered, but they muffled the volume of it.

“Makara is a dice game. There are lots of dice with lots of different symbols. You roll the dice and then you have to do what they say.”

“What kind of things does it make you do?” Mira asked, already finding this game unappealing.

“It could seriously be anything. Do you remember the last time we played and I had to put on my little brother’s pants?” he said, turning to the others and laughing with them. “You could come if you wanted, I guess,” he said, turning back to Mira.

“Oh, you know, we’ve just got so much work to do, my family and I, at our house…on our house,” she said, originally meaning to use studying as an excuse but then changing her mind realizing it wouldn’t work well.

They quickly said goodbye and left her standing in the market. She finished her fruit, which she found to be more interesting to look at than to eat, and started to walk home. On the way, she wondered if all of the students played the game she just heard about, if they played it all the time, and if she really needed to feel as uncomfortable about it as she did.

Her mind moved on to other things when she got home and found her mother rearranging the furniture in her bedroom. Rolling her eyes at the connection between her excuse and her mother’s requests for assistance, she got down to work moving chairs and dressers into the hallway so they could put down a new carpet.

“Was it really necessary for you to get a new carpet?” Mira whined, exhausted and working up a sweat while lifting the bed frame.

“Look at you, trying to deprive your mother of a few well-earned comforts,” Jeana shot back, equally exhausted. “I deprived myself for years of nice things because we could never think of a way to justify it showing up out of nowhere. That sure is gonna change.”

“I’m sorry having to trick me was such a hindrance in your life, mother,” Mira said, straining to work the frame through the door. They spent a few hours moving the furniture out, nailing down the new, white, plush carpet, dragging the furniture back in and arranging it. Careful not to let any of the heavy furnishings drop on her cushy socks, Mira shuffled around the room toting the furniture while her mother played interior decorator.

After hours passed, during which the sun had set and Kevin had resigned himself to eating dinner alone, Jeana and Mira admired their work. Candles gave the room a soft glow, and the floor now looked comfy enough to sleep on. Ready to head down to dinner, Mira broke for the door. When she reached for the metal handle, she got a nasty shock.

“Ouch!” she snapped, shaking her hand and taking a step back. Suddenly, she started jumping up and down, ecstatic. “That’s it! That’s it! Why didn’t I think of it before?” She threw open the door and ran down to the basement. Her mother followed her down, albeit at a much slower pace, finding her frantically going through her materials and tossing things onto the table.

“What is it? What’s got you going on like this?” Jeana asked, glad to see her daughter so excited.

“That shock, that’s my defense! I can give myself an electrical charge just like I did on your carpet and it’ll shock people when they try to touch me. I just need a few things to give myself a charge like that. If I have two insulating materials and a way to rub them against each other so they give off a charge, I’ll be set. I’ll need to find a way to attach it to myself with a power source, but I think I can manage that too.

“All I need to make a piece of copper wire spin around in a circle is a battery and a neodymium magnet. It’s called a homopolar motor. If the magnet is circular and hollow and I extend the positive end of the battery to a piece of conducting metal of the same shape and size then I could fit it around my arm!

“I mean, it’s a little more complicated than that. But basically I’ll wrap the wire in cloth and my arm in another material, have something underneath it all to protect me in case it gets too hot, encasing it all in something so nothing can disturb the rotating wire from the outside. Oh! It’d be great if I built an on/off switch into it too. This would be so simple and so perfect!”

Digging through the drawers in the basement, she pulled out some wire and her batteries. She found some magnets too, immediately grumbling that they were too small and would not work at all. She found some materials for the interior and exterior casing and dumped them onto the table.

“I just need some materials for generating the charge,” she said, turning to her mother. “You know what would work great? A piece of that carpet. If I could cut just a little piece, you’d never know it was missing. Please, please, please!”

Jeana had an amused look on her face.

“That’s crazy talk. You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going to let you cut up my new carpet! You’d better find something else.”

“Alright, alright,” Mira caved without a fight. “But where can I find a big neodymium magnet? And it’d be great if I could get my hands on some zinc too so my batteries would be stronger. Do you know where I could get this stuff?”

“I have no idea. The only place to go when you want something you can’t get is the Darmen Exchange at the outpost. You’ll be luckier than I ever was if they have any of the weird stuff you’re looking for. Darmen is the biggest city though so it’d be somebody there if anybody has it.”

Reminding Mira not to neglect essentials like food or sleep, Jeana left her to her mechanical endeavors. For her part, Mira began making more plans, but this time she felt confident her idea would pan out. She bit her lip though when she realized it would all be for nothing if she couldn’t get her hands on the right parts. She planned to try her luck in Corey Outpost the very next day.

***

Time dragged suspiciously slow during her lessons, and Mira knew it would be a long afternoon as Fortst worked his way into another tall tale. It didn’t help that the other students also appeared bored and chilled too. His story competed with thoughts of warm fireplaces and hot soup at home, and he found himself in a battle for their attention that he was not willing to lose.

“After I’d been out there in the wild for a few years, I met a couple of like-minded guys and we formed a sort of band. We traveled the eastern wastes together, taking on adversaries that would be too much for any one of us and taking turns keeping watch while the others slept. You never know when something is going to take shape in the darkness arround you.

“I remember one night in particular we were all sitting around a campfire, telling stories and comparing wounds, when we heard the sound of feet scuffing against the rocks and sand in the distance. Coordinating ourselves around the area, we suspected a toothy beast with horns and hair ambled its way to a hidden lair with prey. Waiting for it to turn the corner, I gripped my weapon tight and prepared myself to deliver a mortal blow.

“Whirling out from behind a rocky crevasse, I swung intently, confident that if things got out of hand my friends would intervene. But through the darkness my eyes barely made out the shape of a cloaked figure. I had a split second to decide if he too warranted a devastating blow or if he should be spared. I checked my swing, and it’s a good thing too because the information he carried proved more valuable than we ever could have suspected.

“We ushered him back to our camp, still wary and ready for action at a moment’s notice if he decided to turn on us. Removing his hood, he made a ghastly sight. Burns covered the skin on his face, and he looked thin, close to death. Still, his eyes showed some wisdom and even a little hope. We told him to tell us why he wandered the wastes, and he had a story of his own to tell.

“The old man spoke with an impediment, but we understood that he searched for the ruins of an ancient civilization, a kingdom that united all the peoples of the world. A king with a power of such magnitude that its extent was unknowable ruled this kingdom. His name was Hakotin, and legend has it that his body was sewn together with the threads of the holy web. He was the first being and all powers were contained within him. Rather than consciously manipulating his countless abilities, the spirit of the universe acted through him as was necessary. He created other beings, transferring a shard of his power with each new life. He populated the world even though it decimated his strength.

“He kept all life in peace and harmony with the one, last power that he retained for himself. But it was the will of the universe that Hakotin should die. Knowing his soul would soon separate from his body, Hakotin collected his last power in a diamond carafe that had both a beauty and a perfection that seemed beyond this world. A moment later the force of his life extinguished and that last power was lost to the universe.

“Rather than seeing that power live on in a new host, selfishness, greed, and fear overwhelmed all those who had never felt them before. Without a successor in place, the kingdom collapsed and was buried beneath the rubble of destructive wars. The population declined and all those powers returned to the great web until they could be reborn. The weakened remnants of humanity eventually forgot why they fought and settled into tiny kinships.”

“Did you ever find the diamond carafe?” Mira asked.

“No, you’re skipping way ahead! The old man said he came from a village in the east that had passed down the legend and the whereabouts of Hakotin through the generations. But a severe drought had long ago threatened the existence of the village, and this old man had set out in the hopes that this ancient relic would save them all.

“Though he had little strength, he was the only one who could possibly find something that hadn’t been seen or heard of in centuries. Touching the preserved bones of the founder of their tribe, he gained the knowledge of all of that man’s steps. Setting out to retrace those steps, zigzagging through the desert, and walking in circles, he waited for the invisible path to lead him to salvation.

“My friends and I listened to this story with an increasing amount of wonder and anticipation. Too much of it fit in with what we already believed, and the thought of such a fabulous and potent treasure mesmerized us. We shared our small stock of food with the man and let him rest, immediately sensing that his health would make or break our mission. Without him this story was nothing but a fantasy in a dream, but with him we could find the truth in it.

“Though the old codger protested our joining him, we made it clear he didn’t have a choice. We told him he needed protecting, and we would help him fulfill his quest of rescuing his village. Making tracks at the first light of dawn, our strange but driven new companion led us on a journey that became the focus of our lives and brought us to the solemn center of humanity.”

Fortst then looked over his shoulder and touched the scars that stretched from his cheek down to his neck. It seemed the reverie had overtaken his mind fully, but then just as quickly he snapped back to the present and tried to laugh it all off.

“Good story, huh? Well, that’s the end of it. I guess next time I’ll be telling you about the time I got struck by lightning and accidentally burned down an apple orchard.”

But a sudden outcry erupted from the students.

“That can’t be the end of the story!” they shouted, giving way to calls and questions from around the room. “What happened to the old man?” “Did you ever find the diamond carafe?” “What did your imaginary friend think about this?”

Dismay shot the face of Mr. Fortst, who seldom looked so pained and vulnerable.

“I can’t…I just can’t tell you anymore. I should have never started. It’s not for your young ears.”

But the calls kept coming and Fortst’s gaze darted back and forth.

“Oh, look! What a shame. Our time is up for today. You’d better all get going, because who would ever want to stay late at school, right? Certainly not me!” And with that he broke for the door, brushing past the students still in their seats. A few wondered aloud whether he would come back the next day. Though another conversation had begun about the validity of his latest yarn, Mira did not stay to take part in it. As much as the story intrigued her, she had something important to do.

***

Slipping out the door before any of the other students, she briskly trotted down the path and over to the outpost, intent on getting her hands on a neodymium magnet and the other materials she needed.

Corey Outpost seemed busier than usual. Mira took that as a good sign. Perhaps someone would have what she wanted. Taking the advice of her mother, she headed straight for the Darmen Exchange.

Inside, she realized the office was the front for a trade caravan that traveled back and forth along a specific route. A large map on the wall, not too different from the one in her schoolhouse, showed that Corey Outpost lay somewhere between Darmen to the north and a few coastal locations farther to the south. She calculated that this was the reason they had tropical fruit in the market that couldn’t grow in this climate. A few visitors haggled with a large, tan man behind the counter.

She listened in on their transaction. Regardless of who got a bargain the price seemed colossal. It made her aware that she had almost no money to speak of. The pocket change her mother gave her might not be enough if she saved for her entire life. But before she could formulate a solution, the tan man hollered at her and she realized that he waited impatiently for her to present her business.

“Hi,” she said, stepping forward. “I’m hoping you can help me with something. I need to get my hands on a neodymium magnet and some thin zinc plates. Are those things you can come by?”

“Possibly,” the man said, scratching his head. “How badly do you need them?”

“I need them really badly,” Mira replied with as much emphasis as possible. “I can’t tell you how important they are to what I’m doing. Everything would be ruined without them.”

“Is that so?” the man said, staring down at the little girl before him. “I’ve heard about magnets, but never the one you’re talking about. Do you have one I can see?”

Mira pulled a little silver disc from her pocket and showed it to the man. He took it, looked at it closely, and attached it to a pair of metal scissors he had handy on the counter.

“What’s the difference between this and a regular magnet?” he asked.

“This kind always retains its charge and gives off the strongest magnetic force. I need a bigger one though, one that is wider than my fist,” she said.

“I don’t think getting the zinc would be a problem, but I can’t make any promises about that magnet. It could be difficult and maybe even dangerous,” he said with concern. He then went on to quote a price so high that it made Mira lightheaded. She had never heard of that much money before.

“Is that a joke?” she asked, half serious and half indignant.

“I think that’s a fair price for what you’re asking for. We’ll have to search for it, do research, and bring it back to you.”

“How could I ever have that much money? I’m only fifteen years old!”

“I think if you need it badly enough you’ll be able to come up with it. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to do something…creative to get the money,” he said, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think I can. I’ll come back later if I change my mind,” she said. She could no longer hold back her disgust so she stuck out her tongue as soon as she turned around. Anxious to leave, she went for the door.

“Do you know what your mistake was?” a thick and heavy voice said, startling Mira as she exited the Darmen Exchange office. Her head jerked and she jumped back when she realized the man stood just inches away from her by the door. He wore metal plating, armor apparently, that built him up and made him look intimidating. Despite his serious and intense look, Mira sensed that she didn’t need to be afraid. While she took a breath and returned to her senses, the man repeated himself.

“Not being born into a rich family?” she said, grumbling about the trader’s unfair prices.

“You let him know how badly you wanted it. Now you’ll never get anything from him without paying a king’s ransom. But you shouldn’t feel totally defeated yet. I can still help you.”

Mira eyed him warily.

“If you know how badly I need it too then how’s it going to be different?” she asked.

“I certainly couldn’t charge you as much as he did or you would walk away from me as well. And if I try to charge more than you have, then I’m certainly not going to get that either.”

“I don’t have very much,” Mira admitted.

“Maybe it’s a good thing then money isn’t the only thing I’m interested in.” The metal plates clinked as his hands moved along with his speech.

“What is it that you want?” she asked.

“Depends, what do you have that you can give me?” Mira met his glance with her own narrow and focused eyes. She brought an unflinching attention to this negotiation.

“Who are you and what do you do?”

“Call me Yannick. I can find like things and so I work at locating and retrieving things for people. Sometimes those things can be found and acquired for free but sometimes they cannot. I live in a tent outside of town on the way to Darmen. There is a stream, but the water is very dirty and I can’t drink from it, so I carry my water from here.”

It didn’t take Mira long to find a solution to his problem.

“Oh! What you need is a filter. I can make one of those. Then you’ll be able to drink the water from your stream and you won’t need to carry water all the way back to your…tent.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “I can see the value in that. Ok, explain to me what you want.” Mira told him about the neodymium magnet. She put the one she had in his hand and told him she needed a much bigger one. As soon as he touched it, he turned his head to the side like he was listening for something in the distance. He began nodding his head again and turned his attention back to Mira.

Mira also told him about the zinc, and Yannick showed her some he had on his arm. Seeing it right in front of her, she wanted to snatch it up as if it were on the shelf at a store. The thin plate would be perfect and she could cut it into tiny discs and make a battery or two out of it.

“You’re doing it again, with your eyes, letting me know how badly you want something. You’ve got to control yourself. For your water filter, I’ll find what you’re looking for and give you the zinc plate. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand.

“Give me this and this plate too to make the filter with,” she said, pointing to steel plates on his body. He nodded and they shook hands.

“How will I know when you’re back?” Mira asked. Yannick looked her up and down, frowning at her clothes. He looked up above her eye line and then his hand shot out at her, grabbing a single strand of hair and ripping it from her head. He looked at it in his hands and then looked back up to Mira.

“You could have warned me first,” she grumbled. Understanding that he would find her upon his return, Mira took her plates, which were not light, and she left to go home. She couldn’t wait to fashion the zinc plate into a battery, charge it up, and see what kind of devices she could power. She felt less enthusiastic about the steel plates and the chore of making a filter for her new supplier.

Still, it dawned on her that she had made this trade entirely by herself. She wouldn’t have to ask her parents for any money, and she would be able to earn what she wanted by her very own hands. Satisfaction bloomed inside of her because of it, and she thought making the filter wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She went down into the basement as soon as she got home and got right to work.

***

Ogden Fortst surveyed the unruly and rambunctious class that sat before him. The students seemed to him so much more intimidating and loud on this day, he thought. He tried to rally himself and stare down at them, but he couldn’t match their intensity and fervor.

“Silence! Silence all of you!” he shouted. “Let’s practice our mathematics. Can anyone tell me what seven times seven is?”

“No! We don’t want to do that!” a voice rose above the general outcry of revulsion.

“Come on now. This is important. You never know when you’re going to be bored and want to do some multiplying.”

“No!” the students shouted in a chorus. They went back to chattering with each other, and Fortst felt like he had lost all control.

“Ok! I just had an idea. Let’s play that game you like. The one where you put your heads down and try to guess who tags you.”

“No!” The students cried again. “That’s not what we want to do either. You know what we want!”

A sudden fearful chill took root in Fortst’s heart. It paralyzed his limbs and forced him to start breathing deeply. He looked away, shamefully, and felt himself sink further inside his skin. The students called to him, forcefully, aggressively, and unendingly.

“Tell us the story! We want to hear it! You can’t keep it from us!”

The single-mindedness of their fury unsettled him, and he became desperate for a way out. He was only a man, and he couldn’t do the impossible. He couldn’t reveal what he kept hidden even from himself.

“School is finished for today! I’m sick and need to go home! You can’t make me!” The students rebelled louder each time he spoke. Fortst had never felt so defenseless and so powerless. He slunk down onto the floor behind the lectern, hoping the students would go away and leave him alone. Tears filled his eyes and he pulled his massive trench coat over his head. He knew in that moment taking this job had been a mistake.

He recalled how he’d never imagined he’d live to be so old and how he wished he hadn’t spent so much of his time alone. It stung him that the few people he had grown to care most about had been so ill repaid for their friendship.

The rabble died down, but no one left the schoolhouse. Fortst held those painful memories with a light and trembling hand. But a rude awakening came to him in the form of Chucky, who had crawled next to him behind the lecture. His thick sides peeked out from his shirt as he leaned up against Fortst, startling him. He didn’t speak at first, but just watched with his big, brown bear eyes. Fortst felt like they were drinking him with their empathy and forgiveness.

“Teacher, you need to tell this story more than we need to hear it.” Chucky whispered into the man’s pale ears. “The past can’t get you anymore. It is waiting for you to conquer it. The only way to take control of what happened is through the telling. You’re not one to shy away from a fight, and this is how you take the fight to a story.”

Fortst gave Chucky a puzzled look. His heavy breathing started to calm down.

“I’m not afraid of a story,” Fortst whimpered.

Chucky scrambled back to his seat, leaving Fortst to eye the space he abandoned. Looking for wisdom and hoping for peace, a huffed cry escaped from his lungs, and he lurched onto his knees and up to his feet.

The silent students waited and waited, their eyes curious and receptive. Even one judging look from the crowd would have brought him to tears. But, with a nervous stutter, he ground the words through his throat.

“I’ve just never, never told anyone this before. This was supposed to be my secret, my burden, something that only haunted my dreams and looked at me from the dark. But I can’t let it haunt me anymore, my greatest failure.

“The old man, a mystic of sorts, who channeled the steps through the ground and through his bones, guided us through the wastes. And let me tell you, he would not have been able to make the journey alone. We carried him up cliffs and over rapids, through the southern fingers of the great frozen desert. Our maps became useless, and we wandered for months. Spirits cracked and healed many times, but we took the chance that a payoff unlike any ever heard of was at hand. My brothers of the badlands and I took care of our unconscious guide as best we could. We guarded him, brought him food, and urged him on.

“In some ways, he became our pet, operating on a basic level of consciousness. He often forgot what he was doing or settled down to rest while the sun still hung high in the sky. We drove him, encouraged him, or scolded him as was necessary, but deep down we empathized with him. He searched hopelessly for a way to save his village long after it had been destroyed and long after his own body had given up.

“But, slowly, signs came that we were approaching something, even if it meant that weeks or months of trekking remained. We saw his feet drag deeper into the dirt or the sand, reaching for those buried footprints. His path became more direct, and we imagined the frantic flight of the defeated trying to get as far away as possible. He seemed to sense nearby footsteps also, perhaps feeling the bustle and the commotion of those in the crowd who wouldn’t make it through the journey.

“We talked about him, complained, and judged his behavior as if he weren’t there, but eventually he led us to a low plateau in the shadow of a much taller mountain. Grasses covered the plain, but no sign of human or animal life presented itself. No insects bothered us also, which unsettled us even as we were relieved to meet our destination.

“We crossed the plain and descended into the nook before the mountain. We lowered the old man down, wondering where he would lead us next through this jagged crevasse. A fierce wind swept through and he almost fell to his death. But he stepped down on a stable ledge and looked around. The mountain wall on the other side was too far and a great distance still remained to the bottom.

“We called to the old man, shouted at him, and waited for him to guide us. ‘Which way? Let us move on!’ But still he would not move. His back supported against the rock wall, he seemed to sleep standing up. We fretted his body would give out completely and we would be stranded there, so close to our goal but lost to it forever.

“After a day of waiting on the cliffside, one of my brothers hit upon an idea of genius. He said we must have arrived, encouraging us to scour the rock face for an entrance, loose rock, a cave, anything. We couldn’t find any markings, any evidence that anything had ever existed here before. Returning to the old man, who still leaned against the ledge, we moved him to another safe place and then unleashed the full force of our strength against that rock face. We attacked, mutilated, and pierced the solid stone, chipping away at it, willing it to disintegrate.

“We applied our powers and even then only made painstaking headway. A small cave formed in the rock, enough to allow our elderly guide to give us a hint about our direction. We dug down underneath the plateau, shoveling the displaced rubble into the crevasse. Our path sloped downward, so far that little light entered and we had to build supports for the walls.

“Slashing and cutting, we delivered one last strike that caused the rock to give way completely and together we slid through the opening and fell into an open cavern. The fall was not far, just completely unexpected. When we came to our senses, we lit torches and discovered we stood in a great hall with massive pillars and intricate decorations. Dust and silt covered all surfaces, but the majesty and the scope of it beckoned our wonder and took our breath away.

“The first thing we did was ensure we could get back out again, and then we quickly moved onto the task of exploring this new environment. Carrying torches, we saw frames on the walls without paintings, wooden furniture reduced to piles of toothpicks, and embedded jewels of a kind we had never seen before. The timeless stone dwarfed all of it.

“Cataloguing the different corridors that connected to the hall, we explored other rooms linked through passageways in the floor and ceiling. The palace soon seemed more like a maze, but we kept close to each other, just in case this place was not so vacant as it seemed. The only things we found though were decomposed materials and dust, which very well could have been human.

“Checking off another passageway, we made our way back to the main hall and walked down the center aisle. We saved the most decorated passageway for last, the one that stood opposite the entrance. We ducked into it and an eerie sensation made the hairs on our arms stand up. The air smelled funny, like rotten milk. I just wish we’d given up right then and turned around to go all the way back.

“But we didn’t. We didn’t know. And we emerged into a throne room that felt both like a womb and a grave. Everything felt lighter there. Our weapons were weightless. But as we looked around we saw skulls levitating in the corners around roots that peeked through the walls. That should have been a clear sign something was terribly wrong, but what we saw next could not be ignored.

“I’d like to tell you a special light shone down on it from above, or that it shimmered in its own dazzling light, but it didn’t. It was dirty and dull like an old shoe you find by the road. But it just sat there collecting dust on a pedestal in front of the throne. It looked like a rock, but we were drawn to its presence, and we inched forward.

“All time seemed to stop and we held our breath. The diamond carafe of Hakotin lay lifelessly on the pedestal, the glory and the power of an omnipotent king who preserved the one thing he cherished above all else. The desire to know what it contained drew us forward.

“Our hands left our sides, all reaching toward the carafe, this little bottle. A sudden vision came into my head. My mind’s eye collected around the image of a planet, our planet. It constantly changed, moving along a cycle of death and rebirth. A flourish of green gave way to an absolute of gray. I watched it happen before my eyes more times than I could count. I wanted that power. I wanted it for myself. The temptation to rule the world drove me out of my mind.

“In that still moment, I turned my hand against those around me. I needed it because it belonged to me. I drew my weapon and prepared to strike. But something happened that I did not expect. Swinging at them and forcing them back, I drove my friends into the hands of my enemy. Arent stood at the edge of the passageway. He leapt out and grabbed my friend by the shoulder. I could hear his heart burst within his chest and he perished immediately, collapsing onto the floor.

“I recognized his blank stare, like his body operated apart from his mind, and my greed gave way to a tidal wave of rage. The shame and the failure that his presence laid around my neck was enough to choke the life out of me. His presence could only have one explanation. He followed us for a year, staying out of sight, waiting for us to lead him to something of immeasurable value. We never detected him, never imagined that we brought our ruin with us.

“Rushing forward with a warrior’s yell, my compatriots thought I was attacking them. They defended the man who wanted to kill us all, and while they did so he came up behind them and finished them off. I tried to tell them what was going on, but by the time they realized we were not alone it was too late. My last companion and I coordinated our attacks, but Arent was too agile and too cunning.

“He shattered my friend’s sword and fell upon him. By the time I got there, it was too late. A pain seared my heart that you can never imagine, and I swore to myself revenge would be mine. We brawled furiously. I held his wrists so he couldn’t do the same to me as to my friends. But I knew the only way to finish him was with his own power.

“I forced him up against the wall near the entrance. My anger and my hatred boiled over, and my strength overpowered him. In an instant, I seized his hand and reached out for his head. But he ducked out of the way and forced my hand to the wall, which exploded, spewing rock fragments everywhere.

“It knocked Arent unconscious, but I sensed the ceiling would collapse and bury us under tons of stone. I dove for the entrance as the room behind me filled with the rock from above. Unable to look back, unable to rescue the diamond carafe that had been my greatest hope and greatest failure, I dashed for our tunnel while the cavern crumbled and filled. I could hear the pillars shatter and feel the ground shake from the weight of great boulders.

“Why I ran so hard, why I wanted to escape from the threat of being buried with my friends, I don’t know. It was instinct, self-preservation, I guess. I wasn’t thinking. But I would have all the time in the world to think about this disastrous series of mistakes while I wandered the wastes alone. Arent left our guide’s mutilated cadaver for me on the cliff’s ledge, and so I was the only one who made it out alive. That massive plateau had transformed entirely, obliterating the ancient palace lodged underneath it.

“The regret and despair over that chain of mistakes haunted my life. Deciding to pursue such an unbelievable artifact, the greedy impulse that made me turn on my friends, my ill-timed attack that sealed their fate, and my desperate need for revenge all ruined my chance at controlling the greatest power the universe could conceive. In my moments of weakness, I think about that. Only one man stood in the way of gaining the diamond carafe. Still, I couldn’t conquer him. I was so close.”

The effort of telling the story exhausted Ogden Fortst, who leaned over the lectern with limp legs. His eyes burned on the verge of tears, but that seemed to keep the students quiet. The horrible images he saw in his mind contorted his face as though they were right there in front of him.

“You don’t need to punish yourself for trying to take the carafe. If my gift has taught me anything about emotion, I know your friends were thinking the same thing. If you had waited another moment, one of them would have done it,” said Roselyn, who had difficulty restraining herself from alleviating her teacher’s pain.

“Don’t feel bad about taking a chance at discovering something incredible. If someone started talking about a completely improbable, totally unrealistic way to become the all-powerful ruler of the globe, I would be the first one onboard,” said Vern, checking the reaction of his peers.

“If I were in the same position as you, trying to get revenge for my friends, I know I would have done the exact same thing. I know this. Nothing would have held me back from making him pay the price,” said Aoi, her fiery eyes looking much the same as Fortst’s might have in that moment of rage.

“I just wish it had never happened,” Fortst mumbled, shaken.

Chucky spoke up. “You didn’t have control. It wasn’t up to you how it all turned out. You need to forgive yourself for not being all powerful.”

Fortst nodded grudgingly. “That’s all for today. I can’t do anymore,” he said, looking worn and vulnerable. Slowly, he collected his things and trudged to the exit even though the morning was only half over. The students had trouble conveying their astounded, awe-struck impressions. They spent a while reckoning with the hardships he endured and the decisions he faced.

“That may be the most important thing he’s ever taught us,” mumbled Dennis, who the other students crowded around.

“I had no idea about any of that stuff. Man, he’s had it tougher than I thought,” said Will. “I wonder how he ended up here.”

“Probably just wandered aimlessly until he showed up at the outpost and started begging for something to do,” said Kurt.

“How long ago did all of that take place?” Mira asked, but no one had an answer.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Jeremy disagreed. “I’m not saying he’s lying, but I don’t think all the stuff about an ancient kingdom is real. And that stuff about a king with all the powers is completely ridiculous. Has anyone ever heard of anyone with more than one power? No, you haven’t. I rest my case.”

“Where do the powers come from?” Mira asked.

“Well, those of us with powers received them from the web of the universe when we were born. That’s what my parents taught me and that’s what I know. His story just conveniently plays off of that by saying the powers went there after the first people died.”

“You mean that’s what you believe. You never followed a power from the web and saw it climb into an unborn baby, so you believe it but don’t know it,” Mira added.

“No, I know it,” Jeremy protested.

“Ok, then prove that powers come from the web of the universe.”

“That’s easy. Just show me a baby being born and it’ll have a power that came from there. Boom! That’s proof for anybody who isn’t blind.”

“Wait, but I was born and I don’t have a power that came from the web. Oh no! I just blew up your theory,” she said.

“If I were the web of the universe, I wouldn’t have wanted to give you a power either,” Jeremy grumbled, getting up to venture out into the snow with a group of students, Roselyn among them.

“Hey Chucky,” Roselyn called. “That was impressive. You can’t force those kinds of feelings on someone. They have to come from within. I’m not sure I could have done what you did.”

Chapter 8: The Team Trial

Mira too got up to leave, but she assembled her notebooks and supplies absentmindedly. She wondered how she could have better argued the difference between knowing and believing. It seemed to her that to know something is to be able to prove it with observations, measurements, and experiments. A belief is an assumption about something that doesn’t need to be verified. No one can go up into the web of the universe to see where all of the unused powers are stored. So they can believe they are there, but they can’t know if they are.

Pulling her pink knit cap over her head and hair, she braced herself for the blizzard waiting outside and turned for the exit. It startled her to find Aoi leaning against the doorway, watching her intently. Frozen strands of black hair curved around her face, bunching together like claws. She seemed so sharp in that moment, from her piercing eyes to her bony cheeks.

“Do you consider yourself to be a selfish person?” she asked. Mira, still off-put, needed a moment to decide how to respond. Aoi watched her with a careful, thoughtful expression.

“I try not to be. Why do you ask?”

“So if one person took all the credit for other peoples’ work, you would think that’s wrong, right?”

“I guess. Wait, what are you talking about?” Mira asked. Aoi left the doorway and took a deliberate step into Mira’s personal space.

“I’m concerned, Mira. I’m afraid about what’s going to happen to us.”

“Afraid? Why?”

“Don’t you see what the problem would be if Vern graduates at the top of our class? We would all be pawns in his game to make himself look good. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and I would hate for our sacrifice to go to his ego. Haven’t you noticed it too?”

The sound of Aoi’s voice, usually so crisp and clear, warbled as she spoke. It carried so much emotion, and its emergence shook her. For her part, Mira did recognize what Aoi referred to. She remembered Vern’s reasoning why he should remain class leader. It gave her a funny feeling, and Aoi’s words helped her realize why. Now that some time had passed, all Mira could remember him saying was “I.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Mira asked.

“Because I heard something interesting. Maybe it’s just a rumor, but maybe it’s not.”

“What is it?”

“I heard that Vern is thinking about picking you for the Team Trial next week.”

This comment made Mira flinch with surprise, and her mind quickly raced to interpret it. She still didn’t know many details about the Team Trial, only what the title implied, but she did know Vern was a captain and he would pick his team. What did it mean though if he thought about picking her?

“Oh, that’s nice of him,” she said.

“No, it’s not. I can assure you it is anything but nice. If he’s thinking about picking you, then there’s got to be a reason for it. And right now I can’t figure out what that reason is. Can you tell me why he might think you would be useful on a team? Is there something about you that you haven’t told everyone?” Aoi inquired.

“No, I’m not hiding any kind of power or anything. What you see is what you get.”

“Are you hiding something from me right now? Why would he want to pick you?” Aoi asked, more intensely.

“I’m not hiding anything and I don’t know why he would want to pick me. This is all news to me. Maybe if you’re so worried about it you should go ask him.”

This answer was far from satisfactory for Aoi, who pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. For an instant, Mira wondered if she would become violent again, but instead she stared deeply into her eyes, searching for something.

“You like him, don’t you?” she accused. “He is attractive.”

“What? No, I don’t!” Mira defended.

“Then why are you so nervous? I bet you’d like nothing more than to have him sweep you off your feet.” Smirking mischievously, Aoi abruptly stormed out into the blizzard.

All alone now, Mira stood still for a moment. She watched stray snowflakes slip in through the wallboards and collect on the floor like fine dust. Knee-deep tracks led from the entrance through the clearing to the path. She felt cold and anticipated returning home to a warm fire, but she also thought she was in a beautiful place and was happy to be there.

***

Mira spent a great deal of time that weekend thinking about her conversation with Aoi. She wondered why Vern would want to pick her for his team and why that would raise Aoi’s suspicion so much. When alone, Mira let herself pretend that it was because he liked her and thought she was pretty. Maybe Aoi had been more right about her feelings than she let herself believe.

But something else weighed more heavily on her mind. She thought about Vern and Aoi, the two students at the top of her class, and who would be a better leader. Both of them gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had asked her mother about the likelihood that the final class leader would be a surprise.

“After spending ten years in school together, the chance of a surprise becomes pretty small,” Jeana said. Mira’s fellow students took class leader so seriously. They did afford Vern some extra respect, a special chair, and he helped them as best he could in return. Still, he took noticeable joy in doing what others could not, and he reveled in the praise and thanks he received because of it. Aoi, Mira thought, seemed to have little control over herself, so it would be impossible for her to manage an entire group.

Lying under numerous thick blankets on a cold and frigid night, Mira played out the fantasy of becoming class leader in her mind. She promised herself she would always act in their best interest and do everything she could to inspire them to greatness. But when she awoke, the dream she spun disappeared and the reality of her place set in. She was at the mercy of most of her classmates, and that wouldn’t change until she could overpower them.

Down in the basement, she had been working on something that would do the dirty work for her. Utilizing her new zinc batteries, she finally could store enough electricity to produce something menacing and imposing. The time had come to test her creation. She grabbed her dad and they went out into the snow-covered backyard to reveal it.

Standing on the frozen, solid sheet of snow, Mira pulled the cover off a small figure that stood between her and her father. It was a foot tall, much bigger than any of her walking toys, and had a human shape.

“I call him Crank, and he’s ready for battle. Don’t hold back now, but be careful at the same time. Ok, ready?” she called over to Kevin.

After he nodded, Mira clutched the remote and Crank slowly started to walk forward. One leg lurched in front of the other in a stilted, jerky motion. Kevin appeared under-whelmed. Mira pressed a button on the remote, waited for a response, and then mashed the button again and again.

Kevin took a few steps forward and gave Crank a strong kick with his boot, sending him flying over to the side. Now that the coast was clear, he ran after Mira.

“It was working before!”

“You’re in trouble now!”

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!” Mira squealed. She dropped the remote and ran, Kevin chasing behind her. They circled the yard, around trees and along the garden paths. He eventually got a hold of her and tossed her into a snow bank.

“I give up!” she cried after her father buried her in snow.

They went indoors and warmed up with breakfast and hot chocolate. Mira sat in a chair near the fire, wrapping a blanket around herself. She looked through the foggy windowpane at Crank, lying in the snow and collecting flakes. She left him outside as punishment for his failure.

“So what was that thing supposed to do anyway?” Kevin asked, taking a seat on the other side of the fire.

“It had a spring to launch itself through the air at you, which would knock you over and give me the option of either assaulting you myself or running away. But even if it had worked, it would be so difficult to use on a target that moved side to side.”

“Yeah, that sounds tough,” Kevin added, trying to sound thoughtful.

“The worst part about it though is how much energy goes into the walking. Walking is such a complicated movement, and it took forever so the thing wouldn’t tip over with the first step. As it is, uneven ground, a divot or even a hill, would be too much for it,” Mira said, sulking.

“What about if you had something that didn’t need to move? You could carry it and then toss it where you wanted it, and after it did its thing you would pick it up later.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” she said. “But people do move, and I’d love for it to be something that could be tough enough to create a barrier between me and any enemies.”

Mira and Kevin sat in contemplation of the puzzle before them when Jeana joined them.

“And I think it’s possible to make something that strong now with these new zinc batteries,” Mira said.

“So you were able to get the things you needed from Darmen Exchange?” Jeana asked.

“Well, I was going to, and I went there, but then the guy wanted a crazy amount of money, so I left. On the way out though, I met this guy wearing all kinds of metal, and it turned out he traded also. Yannick and I made a deal for the zinc and the magnets I need in exchange for a water filter I’m building. It’s turning out pretty well and I might have to build a smaller one for myself. You never know when that would come in handy.”

This story immediately caught the attention of Kevin and Jeana, whose uneasiness and suspicion became evident to Mira as she spoke.

“You can’t trust that man, Mira. He is not honest. I can’t believe you did that without talking to us!” Jeana scolded.

“So far I’ve gotten a bunch of things from him and he’s gotten nothing from me, so I don’t think it’d be a good idea for him to be dishonest about it,” Mira retorted.

“That’s not entirely what I mean. He gets a lot of his goods by stealing them.”

“Oh,” Mira said, taken aback.

“And you say he needed a filter for water? I’m not convinced that’s the truth either. I wonder what he really wants it for,” Kevin added.

“But I am already using the zinc, and I’m waiting for him to deliver the neodymium magnet. I need these things,” she said, wondering if the zinc in her batteries had been stolen.

Jeana and Kevin exchanged worried glances.

“How is he going to deliver it to you?” Jeana asked.

“He said he’s going to come find me. I gave him a strand of my hair.”

“I can’t put it any other way. What you did was foolish. Just think, now there’s someone who knows where you are every second of the day, someone who knows when you’re moving and when you’re standing still. That’s valuable information, and there might be people who would trade with him for it. It’s only your anonymity that keeps you safe,” Kevin said, shaken and disturbed.

“What do you mean my anonymity keeps me safe?” Mira asked.

“We just mean that you might draw unwanted attention…because you are special.”

“Oh.”

“Look, if he comes to you, try to make sure there are other people around. You could tell him to meet you here and we could deal with him together. Make sure you get your hair back too,” said Jeana.

Mira felt guilty because she had made such a big mistake in her parents’ eyes. So many of the things they had talked about had just never occurred to her. She thought she had a lot to think about before, but now the weekend seemed like an awfully short time to get through all of the thinking she had to do.

***

As is so often the case, Monday morning came around way too soon. Snow continued to pile up, and now alternating layers of hard and soft snow covered the ground. The students trekked to school in heavy winter clothing, their uniforms buried underneath layers and layers. At the schoolhouse, the desks had been pushed against the walls, leaving a large open space in the center.

The students mulled around the space, talking and joking like they were at a dance before the music had begun. Fortst cleared his throat loudly to get everyone’s attention.

“Team captains will now make their selections for the Team Trial. There will be three teams, each with five members. Will the three captains please come forward?”

Mira took a step forward and then checked herself.

“Oh wait, I forgot I’m not a captain.”

Roselyn, Vern, and Aoi came to the front. They stood alongside Fortst and surveyed the remaining students.

“Roselyn will make the first selection, followed by Vern and then Aoi, and then they each will pick again. Whenever you’re ready, Roselyn.”

“Hmm.” She cogitated with one hand on her chin and the other on her hip. “This is difficult. I could really pick anyone. I guess I’ll have to go with…Mary!”

Mary’s face lit up and she pushed her way through the crowd. While Roselyn and Mary celebrated, Aoi scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Ok, number one,” Vern began. “I’m choosing Dot.” Dot came forward, exchanged an understanding glance with Vern, taking her place behind him. Now that her turn had come, Aoi agonized over her decision. The gears turned painfully in her mind as she crunched and calculated. Some of the other students started to complain that she took too long.

“Alright, alright. Relax! I’ll take Rowland, his molding is just too useful.”

“First round pick, I’ll take it,” Rowland said as he crossed over to those who had been chosen. He motioned to give his captain a high five, but then perceived long-term consequences and decided against it.

After a lot of intense whispering, Roselyn broke from her huddle with Mary to announce her next pick. “We want Will!” Vern stomped his foot and clenched his fist, obviously displeased. Composing himself, he turned to those left in the crowd.

“Let’s get someone on board who can go the distance. I need you,” he said, extending a finger to the thin, red-haired boy. Kurt slipped between those standing in front of him and walked over to Vern and Dot. He did give his teammates high fives.

Aoi scanned the remaining lot and fidgeted. She saw only two options: Jeremy and Mira. This was the decision that would make or break her team, and she strained herself trying to see the answer. Jeremy could be useful in any number of situations, making it foolish for her not to pick him. But if Mira were so crucial to Vern’s formula then the benefit of disrupting that would be immense. Still, he hadn’t picked her through two whole rounds. Maybe he thought no one would want her and he could save her for the later rounds. She did come in last in the Tournament Trial after all.

Her mind went in circles, round and round, while the others waited anxiously. Finally feeling like it would be inappropriate to stall any longer, Aoi opened her mouth, still unsure of her pick.

“Ok, I am going to choose…Mira!” A ripple of surprise shook the other students who turned to look with renewed interest.

“Jeremy!” Roselyn shouted before Mira had even taken a step toward her team.

“You had better be worth it,” Aoi growled at Mira, already regretting her decision. Mira sheepishly took her place behind Rowland.

“I guess that means it’s my turn again,” Vern began. “I’d be a fool not to pick Dennis in the middle of the winter. Come on over here!”

After watching Vern’s enthusiasm, Aoi felt particularly bitter over how the situation had changed during the last round. This would be her last actual pick. The most undesirable one would be forced upon her. But a profound apathy took hold of her as she looked over the remaining pieces of meat. She concluded it didn’t much matter who she got stuck with.

“Mucky Chucky,” she sighed with disgust. The two other captains echoed her sentiment about the quality of the remaining players in their brevity, but they kept any noticeable signs of revulsion to themselves.

“Gerald,” Roselyn called.

“Sophie,” Vern said.

Andrew, the last one remaining, exchanged an awkward glance with Aoi and then shuffled over to join her team.

“That does it,” Fortst shouted. “We have our three teams. With Roselyn, Mary, Will, Jeremy, and Gerald. With Vern, Dot, Kurt, Dennis, and Sophie. And with Aoi, Rowland, Mira, Chucky, and Andrew. You have the rest of the day to prepare yourselves in whatever way you see fit, and we’ll meet bright and early tomorrow morning in the courtyard of Corey Outpost. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t believe it’s too early to go find myself a drink.”

The exciting news that tomorrow’s event would take place at Corey Outpost passed through everyone’s lips as soon as Fortst made his exit. The three groups separated so they could form a strategy. Vern’s group left the schoolhouse, presumably to visit the site. The two remaining groups positioned desks in opposing corners and began their meetings.

Aoi lined her team up against the wall. She looked them over and drew from their faces a suffocating disappointment. Of her five-person team, three members were dead weight. She put her hand to her face, spending half of her brain-energy on formulating a strategy and the other half wondering how it had turned out this badly.

“Rowland, can you make sure you have some material nearby that you can work with tomorrow?” she asked.

“Sure thing. I’ll be able to make something no matter what we’re doing,” he said. Aoi didn’t respond. Her thoughts consumed her. Turning her head away, she looked over at the group on the other side of the schoolhouse. Roselyn sat with her team in a close huddle. They laughed and joked lightheartedly. Was it really possible they were able to have so much fun? Andrew’s sudden voice tore her back to her own group.

“What should the rest of us do?”

“Anything you can,” Aoi said out of cold honest truth.

The group spent some time in silence. For Aoi, there didn’t seem to be any air in the world. They discussed a few more minor points, but the only thing they reached an understanding on was that no matter what they were doing, Aoi planned to do it herself. The rest were supposed to do what she said without getting in her way.

After a while, they heard the sounds of Makara dice coming from Roselyn’s group and decided that everything that needed to be discussed had been. They got up to leave, agreeing to get together early before the start to report any new ideas.

***

Mira waved goodbye to her teammates when they reached the big marble boulder, which seemed half as tall because of the snow. She watched them as they continued on to the outpost to buy candy, and she couldn’t help but share in Aoi’s disappointment. Her own aspirations were wrapped up with the fate of this team now too.

As soon as she made her peace with the likelihood that things would not turn out well, she turned to take the path home, but a whispering voice came to her after only a few steps. Turning, she saw the man in the metal, Yannick, from a burrow in the snow on the side of the boulder facing the forest. She leaned to the side and came closer, slowly revealing more of his figure, which had been so close by but completely undetected.

“I’ve got something for you. Do you have something for me?” he beckoned. He reached into his jacket with one hand and removed a thin metal disc about as wide as an orange. Mira immediately knew what it was and her eyes grew large. But she had not forgotten the words of her parents, and so she kept a cautious distance and a wary vigilance.

“Where did you get it?” she asked, looking into his shaded eyes.

“It required some traveling, but I managed to get it,” he said.

“That’s not what I asked,” Mira snapped. “Did you steal it? Are you a thief?”

Unexpectedly, Yannick began chuckling. He looked over Mira, through her, and shook his head in amusement.

“No one takes the time to understand my business. They don’t care to look past the surface. Yes, I did steal this. I don’t always have to steal my goods, but this one I did. You still have the choice of whether or not you want to trade, but there is one more option too. Do you want to know more?”

Mira felt torn between her need for the neodymium magnet and the repulsive nature through which it had been brought to her. Anxious to delay the decision, she let Yannick go on.

“That’s good,” he said. “You might just avoid doing something foolish if you listen carefully. I can tell you right now there aren’t too many of these things around. And the shape and size make this especially rare. But I got one in my sights right away, and so I set out tracking it. It took me up north of Darmen, in the high mountains where people don’t rarely venture. I expected it to be lying on the ground, but instead this strange old man had it in his secret hideout.

“It didn’t take me long to realize what he was doing, experiments on people of an unnatural and sickening nature. Get this, your little piece here was in the machine he was using on ‘em. The stealing was easy enough, just waited till he fell asleep and then cut the machine open and took it out. Came back here in a snap.

“Let me tell you something, girl. Nobody would have ever found that man or known what he was doing if it weren’t for you sending me out to find this. I can’t say I stopped him for good, but I sure did a number on that machine in the process and if he needs another one he’ll be hard pressed to find it. Giving me a chance to do this is the service you did for me, and that’s why I’ll let this thing go for just a water filter. So, yes, to answer your question, I stole it. Now you tell me if that’s a bad thing.”

Mira listened intently to his story, and it convinced her thoroughly. She told him she didn’t have the water filter with her, and that she would have to get it from her house. He told her he would be waiting outside and they would make the trade there.

A short time later, Mira returned home. She went to get the water filter from the basement and brought it up without her parents knowing. Once outside she saw Yannick in the bushes across the road, and she went to meet him.

“Ok, so this is where you put the charcoal, and then you can run water through,” she said. They exchanged goods, each looking excited about their new possession.

“There’s one more thing,” Mira added. “I want my hair back.” Without any resistance, Yannick reached into his sack and pulled out a small piece of felt. The felt had lots of hairs sticking out, and Yannick ran his hand over them until one made him look up at Mira. He handed the single strand of hair over, and Mira put it in her pocket, feeling a bit strange because she had never taken such pains over a hair before.

Mira said goodbye to Yannick, returning to her home without giving her decision a second thought.

***

Early the next morning, all of the senior level students of Dustfalls Academy gathered in the snow-covered courtyard of Corey Outpost. The butterflies of anticipation fluttered in the stomachs of more than just the students though. A large crowd had gathered on the grounds and the second story balcony to witness the event. The marketplace stalls had all been cleared away. Above the outpost, a front of thick, gray clouds blanketed the sky.

The courtyard had been marked into three sections with little flags that poked up through the snow. Fortst looked as domineering and stern as ever. He crossed his hands behind his back and surveyed the line of students with a grim glare.

“We will now commence the senior level Team Trial,” he barked, trying to sound official. “The results of the Team Trial determines the order of entry for the Final Trial at year’s end in the spring. Its format is a free-for-all with a student entering the battleground every minute. The last team to finish today will be the first to enter.

“The courtyard has been marked into thirds, and each team gets an equal amount of wall space. Your objective is for each team member to exit the outpost over the wall. But only one method of exit is allowed, however, and that method will not be known until your team retrieves a chest buried eight feet under ground in your areas.

“If you dig too deep, you will crash through Corey’s ceiling, and I’m sure he will dole out the consequences for that. But, as for my rules, doing any of the following will result in immediate disqualification of the entire team. You cannot use the outpost gate until you have retrieved your chest, and only exiting over the walls using the prescribed means will allow your team to finish. You cannot hinder, through power or otherwise, the members of another team. Finally, you cannot receive aid or assistance from anyone who is not on your team.

“Your success today, and in the future, depends on how well you can work together. Now, get to your areas and we’ll wait for Corey to give us the signal to start.”

Once the students had scrambled onto their thirds, a deep base sound bellowed through the frozen ground. They all sprang into frantic action, pounding their feet and digging into the snow. Almost instantly, Jeremy shouted something to his teammates.

“It’s right under here! I can tell,” he called as he ran to one corner of his field. Hearing that Jeremy had just thrust his team into a substantial lead, Aoi cursed herself with a painful moan. She directed her next glance to Mira, who helplessly scratched and kicked at the surface of the snow. Her team, like Vern’s, had no idea where their chest was. They had no other option than to pick a spot at random and hope for the best.

All of the teams started clearing away the snow. Aoi told Rowland to start forming shovels, and then she started swinging her hands under her feet, swiping big chunks of snow out from under her. Vern’s teammates kicked and dug at the snow so that he could suck it away, just as Will’s teammates did so that he could blow it away.

They all worked with a dogged determination, a mindless exertion that ignored the fatigue building in their legs and arms. The crowd watched the flying snow with enthusiasm and reverie, gauging each group’s progress, predicting winners, and sharing stories of their own school trials. Some travelers watched with a piqued curiosity, having never seen a trial similar to this.

Breaking through to the frozen ground, their progress suddenly slowed and the teams adjusted their tactics. Rowland began handing out a few rudimentary metal shovels, and Mira, Andrew, and Chucky started hacking away at the ground with them. Dennis, who had already worked up a sweat, was melting the snow and beginning to soften the ground. Roselyn had stopped digging once they found the dirt, choosing instead to devote herself to three little notes. Her song evoked a fervor and a passion in her teammates, who dug and cut into the ground with a tireless drive.

Layers of sand, dirt, and stone slowly covered the snow piles. The captains urged on their teams, occasionally looking at the others to get a sense of their progress.

“We have to go faster!” Aoi commanded as she flicked dirt and stones up out of her hole without checking where they would go or whom they would hit. When she did look up, she saw Chucky’s greasy, oily hands slipping around the slick shovel.

“You’re not doing anything!” she howled at him. He looked up from his work, distracted and frustrated.

“I’m trying!”

“Well try harder. Take your coat off and wrap it around your hands so the shovel doesn’t slip. Either that or go sit against the wall and let somebody else do it.”

“But I’ll be cold,” Chucky said.

“I don’t care!” she screamed into his face.

Across the courtyard, the first signs of impatience emerged from Roselyn’s team.

“How much farther is it, Jeremy? This has got to be almost eight feet,” Mary whined through her breathless exhaustion. But he didn’t respond until his group dug through to a large boulder.

“I must have made a mistake. I thought this was the chest. That means it has to be way over on the other side,” he groaned. His entire team, supported by their captain, rushed to the spot Jeremy directed them to and began to dig all over again.

When Vern’s team reached what they thought was the correct depth, they decided it would be more effective to widen their hole instead of digging a new one somewhere else. Dennis, Kurt, Sophie, and Dot kicked at the walls while Vern sucked out the loose rubble.

Mira watched her captain pawing at the earth with her bare hands like it was as soft as pudding. Maniacal intensity possessed Aoi as she tore through the ground. Mira poured all of her energy into her digging, fearful that Aoi would punish her as motivated as she was to win. But it was Vern’s team that struck the chest first, and the crowd joined in the team’s excited cheer.

“It’s about time!” Vern laughed. “Let’s see what we got here and then wrap this thing up.” Together with Dennis, he ripped the chest out of the ground, and everyone crowded around at the bottom of their hole to see what it contained. The chest had a thick lock on it though, and the team puzzled over the best way to open it.

The other teams quickly realized there was more to this chest than they thought after Vern’s team had been silent for some time. All of a sudden, his team emerged from the hole carrying the chest over their heads. They carried it up the large stairs to the second floor and rounded the corner to get to their area.

“You guys hold it up, but make sure I’m the one to push it off so it collides with the ground at the right angle.” Dot said.

Furious that her team was losing, Aoi took an angry swing into the dirt and her hand collided with the chest. She instantly yanked it out and spied the heavy lock. Over and behind her, her team could hear a loud crash. Aoi looked at the lock and then she looked at the wooden frame with its metal linings. Without a moment’s hesitation, Aoi punched through the wooden frame.

“Where is it, Jeremy? How could they have found it before us?” Will called with an angry inflection. Roselyn noticed the meager progress Jeremy had made and put together the answer to his question.

“He’s deceived us,” she whispered from the top of the hole. She turned her head to survey the remaining area. It seemed like such a massive expanse of blind hopelessness now. Carrying a smug and satisfied expression, Jeremy wiped his hands on his pants and abandoned his work.

“How could you!” Will growled through clenched teeth as he gave Jeremy a shove against the dirt wall. When Jeremy got up, centipedes and ants crawled around from his back. They complimented a wicked grin and taunting eyes.

Vern’s team raced back down the stairs to find the chest had fractured against the ground. They kicked at it and quickly broke their way through. Sticking his arm in, Vern began pulling out the contents. Handing them over to Kurt, he delivered a carrot, a scarf, a corncob pipe, and two pieces of coal. They raced out of the hole to get to work on escaping over the wall, but they realized the mistake they made when they got to the surface.

“Dennis, you melted all of the snow!” Dot moaned, looking around at the bare ground covering more than half of their territory.

“This way!” Vern called to his team, but then stopped and gave directions to Dennis. “You need to cool down. Take a rest for a bit and then come when you can warm the snow but not melt it. We need it packy, ok?” Alongside the rest of his team, Vern sprinted out of the gates into the snow-covered ground in front of Corey Outpost.

Aoi found the same items in her chest, and she barked at her team to start rolling snow and piling it up against the wall. The snow they had already moved gave them a big head start over Vern’s team.

Applying pressure to millions and millions of snowflakes, the students on Vern and Aoi’s teams packed and pushed the icy snow together. The snow, however, refused to pack because it was too cold to carry moisture. Because of that, Aoi’s snowman quickly became nothing more than a heap of snow. They threw snow upon it only for it to slide down and slope outwards.

“We’re gonna need a lot more than this!” said Mira, alerting her teammates. They took their shovels, ran out of the gate, and started ferrying snow back in.

While outside, they saw the members of Vern’s team turn fist-sized snowballs into hay-bail sized snow rolls. Like an ox pulling a plow, Dennis casually strolled a few feet in front of his teammates, who harvested the snow and directed it back through the gate toward their section of the wall. Before long, several such rolls as tall as any of the students lined the wall in Vern’s area.

The peak of Mt. Aoi extended up to the second floor, and the students realized they would need to incorporate that walkway into their pile and have it lead up to the top of the wall. As long as they had enough snow, they planned, it would be possible to run right up the side and off the edge.

“Finally! What a relief,” Roselyn cheered when her team struck the chest, but she scratched her head over how to get through the lock. “I think it’s safe to assume we have to do the same thing. Let’s start piling snow. We can still do this!” But she looked at how far behind her team was, marked by the two rising snow piles, and she knew her team had already lost.

Her area looked like a minefield, but Jeremy troubled her more than any of the holes. He sat in the snow watching the heated race between the other teams, oblivious to his own. Roselyn couldn’t figure out why he would want to risk finishing the academy at the bottom of the class. The thought of such a finish sent a shameful quiver through her heart, and she scurried to move the snow along with her teammates. She prayed for anything to happen to allow her to catch up.

Across the courtyard, Mira called her rushing teammates’ attention to a problem that struck her.

“We should pile snow on the other side of the wall too, so we land without getting hurt!”

“Are you crazy?” Aoi responded after heaving a shovel-full of snow up onto the pile. “They’re catching up! We need to get this over and done with as soon as possible!” Urgency and desperation rang in her voice, and Mira saw her glance up at the top of the heap to calculate if she could make the jump. They carried most of the snow up to the second level and packed it on from there, while trying to avoid a glance at the neat and organized rolls stacking up along the wall on the other side.

Once the massive mound consumed the second floor and led clear up to the top of the wall, Aoi made the decision that the time had come to start sending people over.

“Mira, you go first! Everyone else, keep piling snow!” The mountain suddenly looked more terrifying when it came time to climb it, but Mira swallowed her fear and took some space for a running start. From a full sprint, she leapt at it and attempted to stomp and pull her way up. She sunk into the soft snow and it felt like she wasn’t going anywhere. But the frozen clumps and icy chunks held enough to support her climb. She felt the snow give way behind her, but she made her way up.

Her heart beat through her chest and she gasped for air. The snow and her effort drowned out the sound of the cheering spectators. She was all alone in an avalanche. Reaching her arm up for her next advance, it startled her when there wasn’t any snow to grab. She looked up and only a sea of clouds lay before her. She stood up and looked down at the long drop down. The wind tossed her hair and the fresh air felt good in her heaving lungs.

She turned back to look behind her. She could see her path all the way down to the bottom, where Aoi stood, frantically waving her arms and telling her to jump. Vern’s team stacked the snow bails; it wouldn’t be long before they too made their ascent. Turning back to the drop off, she tried to convince herself that the snow would cushion her fall.

Aiming for a thick drift of snow, she jumped from the top and let gravity drag her back down to Earth. She felt weightless for a moment, but then the ground rushed up under her and smacked into her. She crashed into the snow and a raw tingle went through her body. She took a few deep breaths and then felt good enough to get up.

The rest of the team hurriedly repaired the damage Mira had done during her ascent and the next climber prepared himself. Mira could hear Andrew straining and puffing before he even got near the top. Seeing him emerge, she quickly hustled out of the way. She watched him jump and then spin in the air, finally landing on his upper back.

Fearing that he had seriously injured himself, Mira rushed over to the pair of legs dangling in the air. But when she pulled him out, all she saw was a big grin on his face.

“Two down, three to go. We’re gonna win this thing!”

Together, they rushed around to the front and entered the outpost through the gate. Roselyn’s team still had a long ways to go, but it looked like only one more roll would be enough for Vern’s team to make it over.

Andrew and Mira made it back to their area just in time to watch Rowland muscle his way up the mountain of snow. He furiously leap-frogged his way up, straining to make progress against the sinking snow. Grunting, his ascent seemed to be nothing more than an act of pure will. But he grew exhausted and weary at the top, dropping over the edge with none of the tenacity that propelled him there.

Only Aoi and Chucky remained. She told him to go and Chucky floundered against the snow like a fish out of water. Steam rose from his back and the snow became oily and slick. She shook her head in disgust at his pathetic attempt and made a run at the top herself. She used Chucky’s back as a springboard up the mountain, and soon she sprinted to the top and launched herself off the edge without any hesitation. She sailed through the air and out of sight, only to reappear through the gate moments later.

At the same time, Vern had begun to scale the carefully constructed stack of giant snowballs. The snow had frozen in place and felt solid as a rock. He leapt up and up until he found the precipice. But when he got there, instead of jumping, he called for the next member to go, and he pulled them up with his power, making the climbing an effortless affair. It only took Kurt a minute before he made it over the edge.

Meanwhile, Aoi struggled to heave Chucky up the soft and cushy mound.

“Are you even trying to climb? Just pull yourself up!” she yelled while pushing him up from below.

“I’m doing the best I can!” he said, but the snow gave way underneath them and soon Chucky landed on Aoi at the bottom of the hill.

“Get off of me!” she screamed. “I’m going to rip you apart and throw your pieces over! If only you weren’t such a mammoth!” She threw him up against the snow, turning to push him up with her shoulder and back.

“We need to hurry! Right now! Let’s go!” She shoved him up, tossing him against the wall of snow. She took a step up and caught him as he slid down only to throw him higher.

“Come on! Come on!” she screeched, but Chucky only flopped helplessly in the powder. Gritting her teeth and straining, the small girl dragged a boy twice her size up a mountain of snow. She felt the loss of every second that slipped away as it brought her closer to failure. Chucky yelped from the pain of her yanking and shoving.

The top was only a few feet away, almost close enough for her to throw him over, when she heard a loud roar from the people in the courtyard. Fearing the worst, Aoi looked back to see Dennis, the last one left on Vern’s team, scaling his snowy stairs. Vern pulled him, reeling him up each snow roll. Climbing to the top of one, he lunged on before it melted and collapsed beneath him. Rapidly, he ascended each platform, pulling his legs under him before springing higher.

Aoi grabbed Chucky and carried him in front of her up to the top. Another roar erupted, and Aoi swiveled her head just in time to see Vern and Dennis dip behind the far side of the wall. A soft “No!” escaped her lips. The wind had been knocked out of her, and she collapsed on top of the wall still holding the walrus. She finally became aware of her exhaustion, which irritated every inch of her skin.

“You blew it!” she whispered to Chucky with her eyebrows scrunched like she might cry.

“We can still get second,” he said, but it only served to re-ignite her fury.

“Second? I didn’t come here for second! You want second? I’ll give you second!” Her voice rose and her hands shook with callous contempt. Like he weighed almost nothing, Aoi lifted Chucky out of the snow, spun him around, and then launched him out over the wall.

As soon as he hit the ground, the same bellowing voice emerged from under ground to signal the end of the contest. The members of Roselyn’s team dropped the snow and abandoned their work. Fortst ran out onto the field as the students reformed their line. Once they had all assembled, he made the final announcement.

“The Team Trial is now over. In third place, the team of Roselyn. In second place, the team of Aoi. And in first place, we have the team of Vern!”

The members of Vern’s team jumped and cheered with glee. The other students eyed them dejectedly.

“Captains will evaluate the performances of their teammates and then determine their order of entry for the Final Trial. You’ve all worked very hard today, and you deserve some rest. We’ll take care of the field. Class dismissed!”

The students, tired, weary, and emotional, began to disperse and head for their belongings. Jeremy brushed past Roselyn, and she called out to him.

“Take one guess who will be the first to go in.” But he gave nothing more than a condescending chuckle in reply. “And I hope it means you’ll be the first one out,” she added after he left earshot. A tug came on her sleeve, and Roselyn turned to find Mary with teary eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I just wish there was more I could have done.”

“It’s not your fault,” consoled Roselyn. “We’ll figure out what your gift is in time. It’ll come to you. Let’s go get something hot to drink.” She put her arm around her friend and led her off the field.

***

Chucky, still steaming, tried to wipe his oil off with a towel. He looked up and caught Aoi staring angrily at him, but she quickly looked elsewhere. A moment later she plucked her bag off of the ground and stormed off.

“I’ll show you I’m not so worthless…somehow,” he said to himself. But Mira happened to be nearby and she caught his words.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, startled. “Sorry about screwing things up for our team today. I guess the only thing worse than not having a power is having one that isn’t good for anything.” He mumbled, expecting her to walk away, but instead she came and sat down next to him.

“Isn’t good for anything? That just means it’s waiting for you to figure it out. Your mind always has an answer stashed within it. And once you fish it out, the idea will dazzle and delight you. Like this. Watch.”

Mira wiped her hand along Chucky’s arm, collecting a handful of thick oil. She bent down and packed snow around it until it became heavy and dense. She flung it at the wall as hard as she could and it collided with a loud smack.

“That was pretty cool,” Chucky said, entertained.

“And that’s probably far from the best use,” she said, rubbing her oily fingers together. “Do you know what friction is?” Chucky shook his head.

“Friction is the resistance when things rub against each other. When you are sliding on ice, friction is what slows you down. But if you tried to slide on grass, it wouldn’t work at all because there’s so much more friction. But with all this oil, I bet you could slide on grass like it was ice and slide on ice like it was nothing. Have you ever tried sliding on your oil?”

Chucky shook his head. “I haven’t done much more with it than wash it off.”

“Well, you’ve still got a pretty good sweat going. Why don’t you try running out along the snow here and then see how far you can slide through the courtyard?”

Feeling like he didn’t have anything to lose, Chucky got up and got ready to run. He ran forward, pumping his thick calves and thighs, and then sprawled out onto the snow’s icy surface. Instead of slowing down and stopping, Chucky picked up speed and slid clear across the courtyard. He only stopped when he dropped into one of the holes in Roselyn’s territory.

“Ahhhhh!” he hollered as he fell into the hole. The crunching sound made Mira cringe, and she ran over to check on him.

“That was awesome!” he shouted, already climbing out of the hole by the time she got there. “I never would have known about that.”

“And that was with the oil through your clothes. If it had just been skin and oil you could hit the wall hard enough to break some bones!”

“Wow, thanks!”

Taking some satisfaction that Chucky had seemingly forgotten all about what happened in the Team Trial, Mira left him to himself. The students had all gone and the crowd had dispersed. Only Fortst remained to push the dirt back into the holes. He caught Mira’s eye and gave her a polite nod.

***

Back at Cloud Cottage, Jeana and Kevin waited impatiently for their daughter to return home with news of the day’s events. But by the time she got home, her own shortcomings formed storm clouds in her head. She thought about what she could have done to make a bigger impact. She remembered her little drill and imagined how pathetic it would have been when faced with the task of digging through so much earth.

Though she knew Aoi was much more upset with Chucky, Mira thought she wouldn’t be surprised if Aoi put her at the bottom of the order, meaning that she would enter the final competition sixth. Surviving to the end when more than half of the students hadn’t even started seemed like an excruciatingly tall order.

“Hey, look who’s back,” Kevin said when she walked through the door. “How’d it go?”

“It went fine,” she said, dropping her things, taking off her coat and pink cap, and slumping into a chair. Her parents made it clear without words that her answer was not enough.

“My team finished second. We almost came in first, but Vern’s team was just a little quicker. I didn’t do too much, just kind of muddled through.”

“So you’re disappointed about that?” Jeana asked.

“Yes,” Mira admitted. “I do want to win, so bad, but it’s awful because I can’t do anything. I feel like everyone is still looking down on me, and I’m still not really a part of what’s going on.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I always hear about things my classmates are doing together, stuff that I wasn’t told about or invited to. I just wish I could be included, that I didn’t have to be left out all the time.”

Jeana and Kevin gave her a sympathetic ear, pausing for a moment to consider her situation. It wasn’t hard for them to understand why she wanted to have some friends.

“So you’ve been waiting for a way into their group? Maybe they’ve been waiting for a chance to let you in, for you to show them your interest. If everybody’s waiting, then nothing happens. Sometimes you have to take the initiative, even though you are the individual.”

“But, Mom, how do I do that? I try to talk to them and make it clear I’d like to do things.”

“Telling might not be enough. You should show them you are good to spend time with,” Jeana said.

“But how can I do that if I’m not already spending time with them?”

“Your birthday is coming up next month. Why don’t you invite them to a party? We can put up some decorations and make a cake. Maybe think of some games to play. What do you think?”

“That sounds fun,” Mira said, smiling. But her smile vanished after a worry popped into her head. “What if no one comes though?”

“It’s a birthday party. Who wouldn’t want to go to a birthday party? I’m not saying everyone will come, but I bet more will than you think,” Jeana said. In her mind, she did consider the danger of making things worse if no one came, but she reasoned that sweets and cake are too powerful a lure for most adolescents. This opportunity to bond with them should have minimal risk. But, just to be sure, Jeana surmised she might have to take matters into her own hands.

“You’ve had a long day and you look worn out. How about we get dinner started while you clean up and then you can relax or scoot upstairs and get some sleep?” Kevin said.

“Ok, that sounds like a good idea,” Mira responded, already anxious to shake the cold off with a hot bath. She still felt tired after she ate, however, so she decided to take the night off from her work in the basement. Her monopolar motor was almost finished, and soon she would apply the casing and be able to wear it on her forearm. But that would have to wait. The need for sleep drew her into bed and away from consciousness.

Chapter 9: The Piece-Meal Assassin

A pair of feet crept lightly over the snow, sneaking behind trees and through the shadows. The left foot pressed into the crystal powder, the right foot coming down just beyond the other’s print. Clouds raced over the moon and the wind shook hefty branches, bathing the darkness in streaks of soft light. The light caught an eyeball, which hastily took in the landscape, darting in all directions.

The feet, heavily wrapped, advanced forward, making slim imprints into the snow. They waddled uphill though the forest. A structure appeared through the trees and brush. It lay beyond a small clearing with a snowy, forlorn garden. In the right light, a glass door became visible, though little light from inside illuminated it. The eyeball also took in the smoke rising from a chimney.

Pausing for a moment, an ear scanned for any sound indicating life or movement. Satisfied, the feet moved on into the clearing. Noiselessly, they approached the building, moving while the clouds shielded the light of the moon. Coming up against the glass, the eyeball peered into the room on the other side. The firelight glowed against a few empty chairs and a rug, reached out into a kitchen with a table, and revealed a staircase that led to the second floor.

A hand lightly wrapped around the handle of the glass door, tightened its grip, and pulled. The door didn’t budge. The eye looked, the feet walked, and then the eye looked again. They circled the exterior of the house. Coming to the front door, the eye spied a small slot for mail. Coming closer, the hand silently lifted the brass cover of the slot and slipped inside. The cover clapped shut.

The eye looked around. The feet noiselessly shuffled across the wooden floor. They entered the kitchen, gradually moving to the living room with the glass door and the staircase.

Scanning the staircase, the feet carefully ascended. One foot rose, gently setting down on the next step, and then the other foot followed it. The feet continued in this pattern until one foot lifted itself only to set back down at the same height. The eyeball peeked around and caught sight of a few closed doors. One of the doors had thick white hairs from a carpet showing through the bottom.

Another door had not been shut entirely. After the feet had walked to it, the hand slowly pushed the door further open. The hinges let out a low whine. Once the door had opened far enough for the feet to pass through, the hand stopped and the feet entered. In the darkness, the eye scanned the room, taking in the mirror on the wall, the wooden floor, the dresser with things scattered about on top of it, and a bed against the wall.

Coming closer, the eye viewed the bed’s occupant, a young girl with straight hair sleeping comfortably in her bed. A blanket loosely covered her, and the hand pulled it away. The eye, again darting, absorbed the items on the dresser, catching sight of scissors that had been used for sewing.

The hand, twitching with anticipation, reached out for the scissors that lay on the edge of the dresser. Instead of the handle, the hand fell on the blade, knocking it on to the floor. It dropped with a thud and clattered. The eye, startled, saw that the sleeping girl did not notice. More carefully now, the hand plucked the scissors from the floor and opened the long, sharp blades.

Clutching the open scissors, the hand gravitated over Mira’s body. Settling right over her heart, the hand drew upward into the light of the moon that filtered in through the window. Cocking back, high into the air, the hand prepared to strike its victim.

The hand swung and the falling scissors sunk into a dense mist that quickly spread across Mira’s body, shielding it. All of those tiny neutrons, protons, and electrons squeezed together to obstruct the blades. Pushing open the door, Kevin walked through with one arm extended and the other to his ear, the blood stone resting comfortably inside it.

“Corey, I’ve got him.”

The mist encased the hand, immobilizing it, and forced it away from Mira’s body. Maneuvering in between the would-be murderer and his victim, Kevin removed the shield encasing Mira and looked at her. Sound asleep, nothing had disturbed her.

***

Bracing the bitter cold, Kevin hastily transported his prisoner to the outpost. Being expected, he found enough room had been left for him at the gate to slip through. Crossing the immaculate courtyard, Kevin descended to Corey’s office and found the lights on and the entire staff working. They watched the floating ball anxiously and curiously, many of them at the ready in case something happened.

“A little overtime?” Kevin quipped.

“For good reason,” a voice responded.

They showed Kevin down to Corey’s chamber, sealing the passageway behind him. Moving down the ladder in a tight space, Kevin peered at his convoluted ball and wondered what he had caught.

The village elder, looking out into the void of darkness, kept an agitated vigilance from his illustrious seat.

“Didn’t we hear this coming?” The sound flooded Kevin’s ears. Only then did he wonder if Corey would be angry and disappointed with him. The sound of his voice was too pervasive to clearly interpret its emotion.

“What have you caught in your trap?” he asked. Careful to keep his prisoner away, Kevin dared to warm himself near the flickering fire.

“It’s a hand, just a hand. But without a doubt it’s the hand of the enemy. I also noticed footprints near the front door. It might be able to change shape.”

Corey considered this vocally. “Possibly. But I have a feeling the web has sent us something that we have not yet conceived of. Is it possible to give it some more space?”

“Are you sure that’s wise? The fire must be put out. There’s no telling what it can do.”

“Our goal here, Kevin Ipswich, is to interrogate the prisoner and determine its source and purpose. A single hand might have difficulty communicating.”

At this, Kevin’s emotions flared. The thought of losing his daughter cut him, and for a moment he thought only of revenge. He thought of what he held and his malicious intent toward it fed into his mouth, but nothing came out even as he moved it to speak.

“If you can’t keep a civil tongue, then I’ll keep it for you,” Corey said, leaving Kevin to swallow and start again more calmly.

“The source and the purpose? Aren’t those clear enough? We’re dealing with a spy, an assassin, one who wishes only to destroy us, and this one saw fit to start with my daughter. Its life needs to be extinguished.”

“Are you blind? We have to find out the reason for this. Why go through such pains and such extremes for the one person least able to hurt you? That might be necessary information, unless you already know the answer,” Corey prodded.

“I don’t know why my family was a target, or why it has become so yet again.”

“Then let’s see if we can’t find out. We’ll have the fire put out, and then confine our prisoner to the far end of the room. I’ll study it, and we’ll wait for a clue about how to proceed.”

***

Once ready, Kevin chartered off a section of the room away from Corey or the exits. He lifted the tight bonds compressing the hand, and at once the pair of scissors rattled against the floor. Listening through the walls and through the earth, Corey heard a pair of footsteps, and then a scratching at the walls, followed by the footsteps again, and finally the sound of a pair of scissors scarring the stone walls. Corey listened for some time, especially when no sound could be heard. He even smiled at times.

“I could not have guessed this,” he said. “The alternating feet give way to the hand as if an entire person existed, but never at the same time. There’s a piece of this man here, not the whole. The parts change, but there’s always a part. I wonder how many parts make up the whole. I wonder what the most miniscule option is. What if all we had was a hair, it burned away, and then we lost him completely? What if the loss of any one part equaled the death of the whole? How valuable someone would be who could dispel these mysteries.”

“Do you have a clue about what to do now?” Kevin demanded.

“I believe communication is possible, but we have little at our disposal to force it. If we are given an ear, we must have a message for it. There must be a reason to listen though. Can we take this moment for thinking?”

The old man, blindfolded, twitched his lips and mulled a nearly imperceptible chant. He receded into himself, listening to the flow of thoughts in his mind. Kevin watched him, anxiously trying to conceive a plan that would impress his elder and do the job.

“Yes,” Corey said, finally answering him. “A false chance to escape provided by the sound of water. Can you create a drip from the ceiling in the corner? He’ll find it, feel it, and listen for its source. While the drip flows, I’ll repeat our message. I’ll tell him we can pull the rest of him here and he’ll be at our mercy if he doesn’t tell us what we want to know.”

“You really think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. As for you, you’ll want to seal yourself completely on all sides. Hopefully it doesn’t take him long to discover this new aspect of his environment.”

A tiny droplet swelled and fell from an extension of the vapor wall stretching along the ceiling. The droplet fell against the stone floor and soon a puddle formed. Corey hummed and moaned a harsh, bizarre note while he listened for the captive. The feet found the water, and the hand felt the cool drop against its bristly skin. The eye looked but couldn’t make out the source for the darkness. An ear appeared, and instantly that inconceivable sound slipped through the ear and into the mind of the host. The ear dropped to the floor, twitching and shaking.

Corey listened to the reverberations of his tune inside the mind of the assailant. He listened as it became muddled with the host’s own thoughts, intertwined with the neurons in the brain. He plumbed its depths, beating into tense and guarded areas. When the echoing sound returned to Corey, it had changed, and Corey absorbed the alterations.

“Ipswich, you can come out now,” said a raspy voice through the stone. A moment later, Kevin kneeled at Corey’s feet, begging for the news. Corey tilted his head down at him, the wrinkles on his face looking sour and indignant.

“What is it? Did you get through to him?”

“Pyrenee. I learned Pyrenee. Does that name mean anything to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I’ve never known anyone with that name.”

Corey reached out and snatched Kevin by his coat, yanking him closer. Spit flew out of his mouth as he spoke and his voice stung Kevin’s ears.

“Why do you lie to me? I’m trying to help you! Would you trade all of our lives for your secret?”

Kevin brushed off the old man’s hand and stood up.

“I’m telling you, I’ve never heard that name before. I swear on my daughter’s life. Now how are you going to protect my family and our village?”

Corey calmed down and leaned back in his seat.

“Perhaps you haven’t, but you know something. And the price for keeping it will become more severe with each passing day. We’ll take the prisoner to Darmen and ask for support. The guards we have will work your home into their patrol, but if the armies of the sun are intent upon getting to you, how long do you think our measly camp can withstand them?”

His voice trembled, and he knew that Kevin would not give away his secret. Kevin closed his trap around the prisoner’s foot, and he carefully transferred it to Corey’s aids. Kevin bid him a respectful and reverent goodbye and left to make the cold trek home.

“What are you hiding from me?” Corey’s voice traveled into Kevin’s ear just when he returned home to find his family safe and sound. But Kevin made no reply, leading Corey to become suspicious that he would risk sorting out the identity of Pyrenee on his own.

***

The front door slammed and the sound of trudging footsteps traveled into the living room, catching Jeana’s ear. She looked up from her studies to see Mira enter. Her rosy cheeks and in her pink knit cap, she looked like the princess of winter. Jeana watched her daughter as she dropped her bag, removed her coat, and rubbed her hands together.

“How was school today?”

“Just fine,” Mira responded, going about her business without concern or self-consciousness. “We talked about hibernating animals. It was a long time ago that you taught me about that. And we learned how to determine wind direction by wetting a finger. One kid might have frostbite because of it.”

For some reason, it only now occurred to Jeana how much Mira had grown. Jeana felt for the first time that Mira spoke to her as a friend might instead of as a dependent child. She was developing a life of her own now.

“Maybe for tomorrow’s lesson you’ll be sticking your tongues to metal poles.”

Mira chuckled and shook her head, taking a seat near the fire.

“What have you been reading about?” Mira asked.

“Oh, somebody wrote something about storing gifts. I didn’t know that was possible except for healers and the like, but I guess if you can find the right medium then you can save them. I’ll have to give it a try.”

“That sounds interesting,” Mira said, but Jeana saw she hadn’t really been paying attention. She stared blankly into the flames. It pained Jeana to see her daughter like this. She could have just been tired, but Jeana remembered her loneliness and thought she could see it in Mira’s face even if it wasn’t on her mind.

“What do you say we spend a little time planning for your party?” Jeana casually suggested.

“Alright,” Mira said, perking up and turning to her mother. “What do we need to do?”

“That all depends on what kind of party you want to have. What is something that you want to do that would be fun for the others too?”

Puzzled, Mira scrunched up her face and shook her head.

“I don’t know what anyone else would want to do. What do normal kids do at parties?”

“Well, let me think about that,” Jeana said, politely. “I don’t think it matters much what other kids do at their parties, because this is your party and we want to make it special.  Let’s see if we can think about what we know we’re going to have and then make a game out of it. So what are we going to have?”

“Food and decorations,” Mira replied.

“Ok, can you think of anything we can do with food?”

“I know!” Mira said, a sudden burst of light coming into her eyes. “First of all, we take a nice chocolate cake.”

“Uh-huh,” Jeana said.

“Then we cut a piece for everybody.”

“Yeah,” Jeana said, smiling and coaxing her on.

“And then we burn them to see how many calories we would have eaten!” Mira flushed with enjoyment at her idea, but Jeana tried to hold her smile as it lost its luster.

“That’s a really good idea,” Jeana said, “but you know what might work a little better? How about we have a taste test? We can blindfold everyone, stick food in their mouths, and they have to guess what they’re eating.”

“Oooo! That’s a really good idea. Wow, you’re good at this.”

“Oh, I just got lucky. Let’s think of another game, maybe something that we can use all of this extra paper with.”

Mira sat for a moment and fished around in her mind for a thought.

“Ok, how about we take the paper and show everybody how it was made from trees?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jeana said. “But it might take a long time though. Maybe a drawing contest would be better, or a paper airplane contest, or some simple origami. What do you think?”

“Yes, let’s have a paper airplane contest. That sounds so fun.”

“Great, ok. So we’ve got a couple of activities for everyone to do when they get here, but how should we decorate the house?”

“Why don’t we just use the decorations we’ve always used for my birthday?”

Jeana took a deep breath, looked down, and then cleared her throat. She realized she had made a mistake when she thought her daughter had grown up.

“While The Periodic Table of Elements would certainly be new to them, wouldn’t you rather have something new? Maybe we could think of a theme for the party and make the house look like something else.”

“Make the house look like something else? I guess we could knock a hole into the roof and make the house into an observatory. We could bring my telescope to the attic and look at the stars.”

“Stars!” Jeana interjected. “That’s perfect. We’ll have an outer space theme, turn out the lamps, and have glowing stars, planets, and shooting stars hanging from the ceiling around the house. You can even replicate the solar system and make sure the planets are the right distance apart. Instead of paper airplanes, they can be paper spaceships.”

“Oh, that’ll be great! I’ll love that!”

“Perfect. Let’s move on to the invitations. What kind of clever invitations can we make that will get everyone excited about coming to visit you at your party?”

“How about this: I’m oxygen and they’re hydrogen, and together we make water. Everyone likes water. We couldn’t live without it!”

“Interesting. Let’s get as many ideas as we can. Do you have another?”

“I’m sodium and they’re chlorine, and together we make salt?” she posed, reluctantly.

Jeana set her jaw and tilted her head. She looked at her daughter and, even though it was obvious, wondered why this was so hard. There were so many things they still sheltered her from, and Jeana wondered how long she could hold on to her naiveté.

“What is something that is really popular with everyone at school, something they hide from adults and are a little secretive about?” Jeana asked, after deciding that she had to speak plainly because Mira wouldn’t ever hit on what she was getting at by accident.

“Something they are secretive about? Well most likely I wouldn’t know about it too, but actually there is one thing. They like to play this dice game called Makara. I guess it’s…cool. I’ve never played it so I don’t really know about it,” she said.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Jeana said, even though it wasn’t true, because she thought it was more important for Mira to make friends than it was for her to stay away from a bad game. Jeana thought she could put the values she had spent the past fifteen years instilling against a little risk without too much harm coming to pass.

“Ok, so it’s decided,” Jeana went on. “Do some investigative work and find out how you could use Makara to make a good design, and I’ll even whip up something to go along with it. Now, what do you say we get started on the planets?”

“Sure.”

“Grab some colored paper, scissors, and glue.”

Without a word, Mira ran upstairs to fetch those objects. While she was rummaging around upstairs, Kevin came through the front door. Much slower than they had going up, Mira’s footsteps sounded her return to the ground floor. A concerned and confused look took shape on her face.

“Where are my scissors?” she asked.

Kevin reached deep into his pocket and withdrew Mira’s scissors. He motioned to hand them to her, handle first.

“Oh, I forgot I still had these. Sorry about that,” he said.

“What were you using them for?” Mira queried.

“Cutting,” Kevin replied, putting the scissors into her hand. He then briskly walked up to his room.

“Could you get started?” Jeana asked Mira. “I’m going to go talk with your father for a minute.” Hearing their bedroom door close, she hastened to follow in his footsteps. Knocking quickly, she walked into her bedroom and found her husband taking off his jacket in front of a frosted window.

“What was that about?” she said.

“What was what about?”

“With the scissors. You’re not usually so short with your daughter.”

“Looks like I can’t hide anything around here, least of all a surprise birthday present for my girl. It could’ve been a surprise for you too, but not anymore.”

“I’m sorry for being accusing,” she said, warming up to him. “What have you got planned?”

“I’m just trying to do something for her,” Kevin said.

“It doesn’t sound like it’s going well. Is there something I can help with?”

“No, no, don’t you worry. I’d better take care of it myself.”

***

Yannick, wrapped in cloth and metal plates, leaned against the wall near the Darmen Exchange office. Water droplets trickled from the second story walkway and made a line in the snow a couple of feet in front of him. He scanned the crowd with concealed eyes, watching the figures as they meandered around the market and waiting for someone to take an interest in his services.

A few people shuffled in and out of the door he guarded, but no one paid him much attention. He spat on the ground and kicked some snow over it, looking dejected and impatient. But someone caught his eye and pulled him away from his thoughts. A beautiful woman walked toward the gate, and he turned his head to follow her with his gaze.

Looking further and further to the right, he noticed a sudden change in the air. A mist formed and stretched from the ground to the ceiling. He backed away from it, moving to his left, but found the undulating cloud had completely blotted out the marketplace. The two sides joined in front of him and soon the cloud had encased him in a small chamber.

Yannick pushed up against it, but it wouldn’t give way even though it never felt hard. He punched and kicked at it, eventually yelling for help. The people outside couldn’t see what was going on, and no one knew to come and help him.

Someone did come, but Yannick immediately knew he had not come to help. A tall man with graying hair and a fiery expression on his face walked through the wall of floating water and entered his tiny, enclosed space.

The man charged at him and shoved him up against the wall. Batting him away, Yannick cocked his fist and threw a punch at the man’s face. His fist connected with a tiny patch of cloud that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared as soon as it had sustained the punch. He threw a few more, but they met the same effect. The man, without flinching or moving at all, didn’t take his eyes off of him. He looked like he waited for the right words to come.

Again, the man grabbed Yannick and pressed him against the wall.

“Thought it was safe to come back after hiding out for a few days, didn’t you? Did you think it would blow over and we’d forget? Who did you send after my daughter?” Kevin sneered.

“Who is your daughter?” Yannick asked in return.

Kevin took his head and knocked it against the wall.

“Mira, the girl with the pink cap, the one you gave away, you criminal! You worthless, freeloading drifter!” The emotions overwhelmed him, and Yannick felt little force from Kevin’s hands.

“What are you talking about? I remember that girl and our deal was reputable from top to bottom.”

Talking through his teeth, Kevin’s anger flared.

“Then explain to me why someone came to murder her just after you made your deal. Who did you sell her out to? Who wanted to get to her?”

“Calm down,” Yannick said, brushing off Kevin’s grip. “Now do you want to have a conversation about this or do you want to keep acting like a tough guy?”

Kevin leaned in to whisper to Yannick without taking his eyes away. “I know about you. I know why you’ve been banned from Darmen and why you waste your time festering up our town. I know you don’t know what kind of awful things are going to happen to you when people find out you’ve been spying for the other side. Now you tell me right now what you did and I might let you off with just a beating.”

Yannick locked eyes with him and knew he meant it.

“I didn’t talk to man or beast, fish or fowl, when I was on the job for that girl. I could tell somebody talked to her though, the way she wanted that hair back, and now I’m guessing it was you. I gave it back to her the same as I got it. I swear.”

“You swear. You swear, do you? Well, you just made another mistake because I know whom you dealt with. I know who it was who sent that man into my home to kill her. Pyrenee.”

“Okay, are you listening, man? I’m going to tell you what you’re looking at. You’re looking at someone who has never heard that name, who never did anything other than what your daughter specifically asked, and who knows the accusations you are making against him are false. Now you can either keep bludgeoning me for information I don’t have and you wouldn’t be able to do anything with, or you can get me on board and I can help you. What do you have to say to that?”

Kevin eyed him warily. In his heart he wanted to believe the problem was right there in front of him and he could make it go away, but he knew that in the end this scruffy twenty something wasn’t what kept Mira in danger. Kevin took a step back, giving Yannick some breathing room.

“Alright, that’s good,” Yannick said. “From what you said, you don’t know who came after you, and neither do I, but we can fix that. You said someone broke into your home, did he leave anything behind?”

Kevin thought about what he saw on the night of the attack, he thought about everything that happened with his prisoner, and he thought about Corey, who probably listened in on their conversation at that very moment.

“He didn’t leave anything behind, but a part of him is still here. We have a part of his body that is separated from the rest of him. It’ll be shipped off to Darmen soon so that the commanders can have a look at it.”

“Well a part is all we need,” Yannick said, showing Kevin some optimism and resiliency. “If I can just get a hold of that part, I’ll know right where to go to get you what you need. Let’s—”

“It’s not going to be that easy. The prisoner is in Corey’s possession now. We’ll have to ask him if we can get to it.”

Mentioning a meeting with Corey made Yannick’s eyes grow large. Kevin felt the same hesitation too. He had refused to cooperate fully with Corey before, and the thought of returning so soon made him nervous. Especially now that he needed something from him, Kevin knew he wouldn’t be able to keep Corey in the dark a second time.

“We’re talking about business now, right?” Yannick said. “I know it’s personal for you, but this is business for me. There will need to be some compensation. Do you understand?”

“We’ll figure that out later,” Kevin replied. “We can’t do this without Corey’s support. Either he makes it happen or the whole plan is a waste.” He said this knowing full well Corey had probably already made his decision about what he would do. Still, Yannick and Kevin made plans to meet and approach him.

Yannick watched the vapor wall around him dispel through his peripheral vision. It melted back into thin air, revealing the marketplace and all of the people going about their business as though nothing unusual had happened. Nodding, Kevin joined the crowd and was lost to Yannick’s eyes. Feeling unsettled and peculiarly vulnerable, Yannick also departed.

***

Ogden Fortst shook his head with extreme displeasure. None of the students who stared at him for hours on end five days a week could remember any of the lessons he had taught them. He thought a review session would be the perfect way to avoid teaching new material, but he never thought it would reveal they hadn’t been paying attention.

His disappointment in them ran deep, but he was equally disappointed in himself. It made him worry about how they would fare once he unleashed them upon the turbulent world. They had so much to learn if they were going to be ready for the challenges that awaited them.

“Could someone please tell me why water takes longer to boil if you watch it?” he asked. Hearing nothing but silence, he became irritated. “Come on, we spent days on this! This is unbelievable. We’re going to have a test. Are you listening? A test. And there are going to be big problems if you don’t know all of this stuff. Open your notebooks. We’ve got a lot of work to do!”

Groaning, the students complied. Reaching into their desks, they removed their notebooks. Some of them were dusty and had nothing inside but games and doodles. Will pulled his out, and when he opened the cover he found a folded piece of paper inside.  Carefully unfolding it, he read the contents. The note said:

“Will, your life is in danger. Meet me by the healer’s office near town square after school today. Come alone. —Mira”

He turned in his seat to look back behind him. She gave him a heavy and serious nod. Will faced forward again, folded the note, and put it in his desk.

***

Once school ended, Mira left quickly and went to the appointed place. She saw Nora rubbing some kind of shampoo into her uneven hair through the window, and then she hid in a nook by the side of the building. She heard footsteps coming and knew Will was on his way. Once he had passed by her, she popped out of her hiding spot and snuck up behind him.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, and Will jumped.

“Whoa, what is this all about? You said my life is in danger.”

“That was a joke. Your life’s not in danger. You’re totally fine. Aren’t you relieved?”

“That’s not cool at all. I got worried. Why would you do that?” he said, pursing his lips in a way Mira didn’t like.

“I just needed to get you here. I’m sorry about that. But, in a way, I just saved your life.”

Will shook his head, spat, and then turned to leave.

“No, wait! Please don’t go. I need your help with something.”

Impatiently, Will turned around and gave Mira a hard look.

“It’s about your Makara dice. Can I please see them?” she asked.

“What do you want to see them for?”

Mira didn’t want to tell him why she wanted to see them, but she knew he would figure it out once he saw the invitations. The only problem would be if he told everyone about it and ruined the surprise. But he didn’t seem like a mean-spirited boy to her, not like Jeremy.

“Can you keep a secret? My birthday is coming up and I’m going to have a party. I want to use the dice to make invitations. Don’t worry, you’ll get one too, and it’s ok if you don’t want to come.”

Will took a few steps closer to her and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small pouch and jingled it in front of her. She could hear the dice clattering inside.

“Sounds like an interesting party,” he said. “But do your parents know about this?”

Will’s question made Mira think of what her mother said. Mira hadn’t been sure what she meant at the time, but now seemed like a good opportunity to find out.

“Oh, no, they don’t know about this. They know I’m going to have a party and make invitations, but they don’t know I want to do this. It wouldn’t be cool if my parents found out about this, right?”

“That’s funny you say that because you didn’t seem interested in it before. But, yeah, some people think it’s all bad and they don’t really know what it’s about.”

Will loosened the drawstring on the pouch and dumped the dice into Mira’s cupped hands. Seven dice of various sizes and shapes spilled out. Some were polished and some dull, some were made of wood and others made of bone; some appeared very intricate while others were very simple.

“Wow, they’re beautiful. Where did you get them?”

“Most of them I made myself. I saw a kid playing Makara in Darmen one time. I guess you can buy the dice in shops there, but he showed me his and I started to copy them.”

She examined the images that appeared on the sides of the dice. There were so many that she was impressed Will had remembered them all, though he could have made them up and that would have been impressive too. She saw an arrow, a fork, swans, a hand, fish, a knife, a wheel, a key, a tree, a man, a woman, a chair, a nose, a spider, a gust of wind, a book, water, a question mark, the number three, fireworks, lightning, a heart, a star, and a mouth. There were other shapes too Mira couldn’t easily identify, and some of the sides of the dice had nothing on them.

Will seemed pleased enough that she admired his work to let her take her time with them. She noted her approval of just about every image.

“So how exactly do you use them?”

Will chuckled and shook his head.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said, motioning to take back his dice.

“Ok, wait a second, just one thing.” She moved to the healer’s steps and began rummaging in her bag for something. Pulling out some paper and a small wooden case, she removed the cover of the case and revealed an inky sponge. She rubbed the side of one of the dice against the ink and then stamped it onto a piece of paper. Pulling away the stamp revealed a bluish mark with an image of fireworks inside of it identical to that of the dice. She repeated the process with a few other images and soon the paper and wooden case returned to her bag and the dice returned to Will’s pouch.

“Thank you very much for this,” Mira said, looking up at Will.

“No problem. I hope your party is a success. Maybe I’ll live long enough to see it.”

Mira left with a smile on her face because it seemed like at least one of her classmates would attend her party. She returned home to find her mother hard at work in the kitchen.

“I’ve got it. I’m all set to make the invitations. What are you making?” Mira asked.

“You’re going to have some cookies to go along with them,” Jeana replied. She mixed a bowl full of batter with a big wooden spoon.

“Ok, great! Thanks so much. I’ve got a good feeling that everything is going to work out perfectly.”

***

A miserable feeling that things were going drastically wrong turned in Kevin’s stomach. A dusky light caused long shadows to stretch across the road on the way to the outpost. He wondered how much of his shame he would have to reveal to do what needed to be done.

Entering the outpost, Kevin saw that the crowds had cleared out and the stands shut down. Still, he got the feeling after only a few steps that someone followed him. He resisted the urge to look back and instead pushed on to the staircase. Once he could no longer see the courtyard and had dropped down a few steps into the shadows, he stopped abruptly and waited.

“What’s the plan here?” a hushed voice asked from behind him. Kevin turned back to see Yannick against the wall on the stairs. It looked more like he was hiding than lurking. Preferring not to look at him, Kevin returned his eyes to the steps before him.

“It’s simple. We request an audience with Corey and hope he grants it. If he does, we make our case to have access to the prisoner. We cooperate fully at all times and respond honestly about our intentions. Is that clear?”

Yannick didn’t answer, which Kevin preferred to any disagreement. The man silently trailed behind Kevin, who worked his way down to Corey’s office. Unsure of what he would find on the other side, Kevin cracked open the door. Only a dim light trickled through. Entering, he saw that only one woman, Corey’s personal assistant, occupied the office. She sat at an empty desk, obviously waiting for his arrival.

Before letting go of the door, he motioned to Yannick to enter. He hesitantly peeked through, and showed no small degree of relief at finding a nearly empty room. While Kevin approached the young woman, Yannick hung in the partially concealed corner near the doorway.

“Good evening. May I help you?” she said with a professional demeanor.

“Good evening, Natalie. We would like to make an appearance before Corey.”

Natalie nodded her head.

“What is the purpose of your visit?”

Kevin snorted imperceptibly and broached a wry smile. She knew exactly why they were there and he wanted to call her out on it. He checked this impulse and went along with the formalities.

“It’s important that I speak with him concerning the recent breach of my home.”

Nodding again, she rose from her desk.

“I’ll take you to a room where you can wait until I can communicate with him about your request and deliver an answer. Please follow me.”

She led Kevin to a door in the opposite corner of the office from where he entered. Yannick stealthily maneuvered his way behind them. Natalie removed a large, old key and unlocked the door. She pulled it open and then promptly kneeled down to attend to her shoe, allowing Yannick to enter after Kevin unseen.

They entered a room with earthen walls held together by thick roots. Candles burned on stands in the corners, shedding light on a long table and chairs in the center of the room, which had a musky, gritty smell to it.

The door closed behind them, and they heard the key turn the lock. Yannick gave Kevin a hard, uneasy look. Together, they approached the table and made out a wooden, locked case at the far end. Kevin didn’t need to guess to know what the case was, and after a moment it rattled and shook, revealing that it contained exactly what they had come for. The word “bait” crossed Kevin’s mind. He felt the pain of the memories it meant to extract.

Contrasting with Kevin’s cool composure, Yannick couldn’t contain his interest and delight in the wooden case. He crept forward cautiously but eagerly. The case popped up and fell back onto the table with a thud.

“Is this really it? So there’s a living foot in here that’s not attached to a body? I have to admit I’ve tracked down a number of people but never like this.”

He extended his arms to reach out and grab hold of the box, but Kevin halted him.

“Don’t touch that! We don’t have permission from Corey. Just take a seat over here and try not to let it tempt you.”

Kevin felt like he had a good understanding of his present situation. Natalie would not return with a decision about whether or not Corey would grant them an audience. Instead, they were already meeting with him.

“Corey,” Kevin called out into the air. “I’ve devised a plan, involving Yannick, to track down the assailant who violated the sanctity of my home and attempted to take the life of my daughter. You yourself said this ordeal is far from over and my family will remain in danger until it is. This is our opportunity to fight back.”

Yannick winced at the sound of his name, but he too waited to hear proof that Kevin’s words had met with more than the soil that surrounded them. A thundering, rumbling voice resonated through the floor and caused a tremor in the room. The sound seemed to come from a colossal being positioned right below their feet and poised to swallow them whole.

“You don’t realize what you’re asking. Will I ignore the chain of command and allow you to take matters into your own hands? That’s not a request to be made lightly.”

“I’m well aware,” Kevin responded. “But this could be our only chance to find out who is doing this and what they want. Who is Pyrenee? These are answers that will not come to us if we simply send the prisoner away. All we need to do is give Yannick something he can track with.”

A bass rumbling came through the floor, a perverse kind of laughter, and Kevin noticed Yannick’s uneasy hand wringing.

“And who are we entrusting our sacred mission to? You do realize your stay in our village hangs from a rope tied to a string tied to a hair. You may be beyond the location of your crime, but the knowledge of it exceeds you. I know you avoid me, and your beating heart tells me of your present discomfort.”

Yannick, defensively, spoke out to the voice, though he felt ridiculous doing so. His eyes drifted toward the rattling box, and it became the object of his speech.

“I’ve made mistakes in my time, but I’m just trying to live my life and make my own way. Just because someone’s done something in the past doesn’t mean they aren’t worth anything now. I can do this job for you. There’s nobody else who can.”

“Ahh, determination. We’ll see how long that lasts,” Corey grumbled. “Mr. Ipswich, what you’re asking for is substantial, but I can’t justify it because you’ve given me so little. Are you sure there isn’t anything you could say that might bolster your case?”

Kevin sighed, bit his lip, and cast a bitter glance down at the floor to the blindfolded old man below him. He leaned forward, putting his face into his hands. Yannick watched him with wide-open eyes.

“You want to know, do you? Is that what it takes? I just have to satisfy your selfish desire for information and then you’ll grant me the freedom to try to keep my family alive? How merciful! It seems like the things that shouldn’t be dredged up are the only ones that ever are. But, fine, I’ll tell you, so listen close.

“When I came back to this village almost sixteen years ago with Jeana and Mira, it was not by choice and not by accident. Jeana and I had a home up north of Darmen in a mountain village. It was a safe, quiet, sleepy town, and we loved it. But all at once our dreamy life met a dark turn.

“In my life I can see a sharp divide, everything before and everything after. To our delight and surprise, Jeana gave birth to twin girls, and we were ready to relish in the joys and pains of parenthood, but the pain came sooner rather than later. Jeana wouldn’t recover after childbirth. Some kind of sickness had found its way into her, and nothing our trusted doctor did could change that. Fearing for the babies’ safety, we had to separate them from their mother. I could tell you at length how terrible that was for them all to endure and for me to bear.

“We lived for a short time as a strained, fragile family, until something not of our own doing drastically changed our lives. I was out in the backyard chopping firewood at dusk. It was spring but the nights were still cool. Wiping my brow, I noticed a window open on the side of the house. Jeana hadn’t been down to the ground floor in a week, and the babies certainly didn’t come up from the basement. Knowing I hadn’t done it either, I raced inside the house and ran down to the nursery.

“I saw him there, an unkempt and heartless man. He stood over one with the other in his arms. I let out a cry when I saw him, and he flew toward the only exit, which I blocked. Mindlessly, I motioned to detain him, but there was some kind of spark that ignited the walls and turned my vapor to steam. My disbelief left me unprepared to defend against his charge, which knocked me down. Never before and never since has my power fizzled on me like that. I watched the fire spread along the ceiling, and I scrambled for my child, the one he left. We hurried up the stairs amid the smoke and spreading fire.

“I only had a split second to choose: take Mira outside first and come back to Jeana or attempt to carry them both from the building. I couldn’t wait, I couldn’t leave her in danger for another second, so with Mira in my arms I hurtled the stairs to Jeana’s chamber. I could feel the warmth through the floor but the fire had not yet spread here. Rustling Jeana and pulling her onto my shoulder, all she would say was that she was sick and shouldn’t be near the baby.

“I carried them from the engulfed building and we collapsed a safe distance away. Amidst Mira’s cries, the three of us watched the flames swallow our home. Her name—Mira’s twin sister—was Clara, and I shudder to think of how she met her end after she was taken from us. But it turned out that was not the full extent of the horrors inflicted upon us that night. We didn’t think of it at first, but then we became suspicious when Mira’s power didn’t show. He took it somehow. We checked every inch of her and couldn’t find any evidence something had happened, but something did happen. No one is just born without a power.

“Everyone looked and searched tirelessly, but not a trace could ever be found. Realizing we had nothing but ourselves, we decided to go somewhere far away where they couldn’t ever find us again. But they did find us again, and it wasn’t so different from the first time. Looks like they wanted to finish the job they started, and I get the impression they won’t stop until it is finished.

“Maybe now you understand why this is important to me, as if what happened with the thing in this box wasn’t enough. Now I’m begging you, Corey. Please let us move forward with this.”

Exhausted and teary-eyed, Kevin rested his jaw and hung his head. His eyes closed, he shut out the truth of what he’d said and retreated inward to that truth that can never be communicated. His lip quivered and his hand shook as his mind grasped at the memories and his heart echoed the feelings.

They waited to see what would happen next. He looked at the floor to see if Corey would reply, but no sound of any kind came through. He concentrated on the floor so hard that it startled him when a knock came at the door. Noticing Kevin was in no mood to answer it, Yannick broke from his reclusive tendency and got up from his seat. He heard the door unlock and then pulled it open.

“I forgot to give you this,” Natalie said, offering a small tray with a key on it. Yannick took the tray and closed the door. It did not lock. Returning to the table, he placed the tray between his seat and Kevin’s.

“If you need a moment, that’s fine. We can do this whenever you’re ready,” Yannick said. Kevin summoned a nod and pulled himself together.

“What do we do?” he asked.

“If it’s a hand or a foot, all I need is to clip a nail. That should be enough. If you can hold him in place, I’ll do the rest.”

Kevin made his readiness clear and Yannick went to unlock the case. Kevin sealed the foot, Yannick opened the case, and soon a part of a nail was in his possession. They locked the prisoner back in the box, and Yannick turned his attention to the toenail clipping.

He rolled it in his fingers and gave himself to a trance-like sensing. He twisted his head and turned, trying to pick up the information. He squinted, cringed, and then his eyes ballooned.

“What? What it is?” Kevin asked.

“This is scary. There are so many parts to this man spread out in so many places. It took me a while to figure out the source, the core. When the parts switch, there’s an instant where there’s nothing there, and so I had to find the one part that never disappears. I figured out where it is, but I’ve got some bad news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s behind enemy lines. We’re talking about ground controlled by the Sunfighters far to the northeast. This guy could be involved with them. He could be in the middle of a military base. That’s the one place I can’t get to, Mr. Ipswich. I’m sorry.”

“Why can’t you get there? What’s the problem?”

“The problem is my power is to find like things. I don’t have a fighting power or a hiding power. Assuming I can even make it all the way around the front lines, if I get caught over there, that’s the end.”

“But you’re better than that, right?” Kevin argued. A pleading desperation crept into his voice. “You’re stealthy, and you’re a better spy than this guy even. Wait. Is this about money? Are you trying to drive up your price?”

“Man, cut that out. I listened to your story, and I feel for you. I want to help, but this is more than I can handle.”

Kevin felt a painful hollowness in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t have anything left to say, and he surrendered with his silence. But the voice of Corey returned, bouncing off the walls and echoing in their heads.

“Yannick, we understand the danger this journey entails, and it’s clear that performing this selfless service will do much to wash away your prior wrongs with the balm of time. Your crime was to steal from a wealthy patron of our state, and those indebted to him vilified you as a result. Our village could be a sanctuary from their wrath, rather than the punishment of the exiled. We ask you to make an attempt to uncover this plot against the Ipswiches. Do not walk where danger lies and always err on the side of caution, even if it means abandoning completely. Will you undertake this, and by so doing make me your ally?”

Kevin looked at Yannick with the last-ditch resolve of a broken man offering his final plea. Yannick couldn’t help but be moved by his fomenting sincerity.

“This is your chance, kid. Can you feel it? If you’ve ever wanted to be someone’s savior, now’s your chance.”

Kevin caught Yannick’s firm and tempered glare and knew he already stared down the challenge before him.

“I’m going to do this. They’re going to find out exactly how much I am, and they aren’t ever gonna know it.”

“Yannick,” Corey’s imposing voice interjected. “Make your preparations and leave as soon as possible. The prisoner will be transported and out of our hands tomorrow. And as for you, Mr. Ipswich, you keep a close eye on your family, and may you find peace with the terrors you’ve known.”

Chapter 10: The Birthday Party

Mira stood in the slushy snow outside of the schoolhouse early Monday morning. She pretended to be examining the rivulets of water streaming along the ground, but her thoughts were actually glued to her latest snare. On each desk, a colorful invitation with an intricate design waited with a cookie for a student to find. Her mind jumped at predictions of how each of them would react, and she pondered how many of them would notify her of their interest as the invitation requested.

Her classmates began to emerge from the path, and Mira cordially greeted each one of them. She restrained herself from peeking inside to see their reactions, but she did listen for any signs of surprise or excitement. Nothing telling came to her, and she continued innocently and demurely greeting those who arrived.

After everyone passed her and Mira had neither made out any signs of approval or mockery, she feared that when she finally went in she would find fourteen invitations and cookies piled on her desk. But when Aoi exited the schoolhouse to meet her on her way in, she felt some relief.

“I’m not coming to your party, but thanks for the cookie,” she said.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you change your mind,” Mira replied with an identically measured delivery.

They entered the schoolhouse and Mira sat down at her desk. It didn’t take her long to notice cookie wrappers balled up on desks or dropped onto the floor. She wondered if they had ignored the invitations attached or if they had eaten them too without noticing. The other students didn’t look at her, and she realized she would have to wait for their responses.

Fortst abruptly strode in and quickly called the class to order.

“The time has come, my pupils. You’ll be taking your test today. Get out a sheet of paper and your ink bottles, not your pencils. There won’t be any erasing or changing your answer after you’ve written it. You’ll have one shot at answering my questions before I give you the answer and we move on to the next one.  Remember, a test is a learning tool, so let’s learn who hasn’t been doing their studying together. Ready? Let’s get started.”

The students, grumbling and sighing, complied with Fortst’s requests. Anticipating the vague and illogical questions that were sure to come, Mira reached into her desk to get a piece of paper. She felt something strange though with her hand, and she bent over to look. One of her cards had been placed inside, and Mira curiously opened it to see whom she had given it to.

She saw that she had written this card for Will, and he added a note at the bottom. He wrote, “Your life is in danger! Meet me at,” and then he drew an arrow to the time and place of the party, this Saturday afternoon at Cloud Cottage. He scribbled his name carelessly underneath. Mira carefully stored the card in her desk.

Other than Aoi’s refusal and Will’s acceptance, Mira didn’t hear from anyone for the rest of the day. After the test ended and lunch went by without any mention of the party, the good feeling she had received from Will had faded and layers of disappointment formed on top of it. She mustered some enthusiasm to tell her parents about Will’s response, and they told her everyone else would answer in due time and she needn’t worry.

As parents so often are, they were right. Mira hadn’t even made it all the way to the schoolhouse before her classmates began to approach her. As it so happened, Roselyn and Mary stood talking at the corner where the road from Mira’s home veers toward the outpost. It startled her when they suddenly broke from their conversation and addressed her.

“Mira, come over here!”

She turned to them. They giggled over each other, and for a moment Mira wondered if they were laughing at her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We just wanted to tell you we want to come to your party.”

“Oh, great,” Mira replied, still not sure if they were joking. “I hope to see you there.”

She watched them for a moment, every movement in tandem, and it struck her how tangible it felt to be on the outside of their friendship. A world existed in their secret whispers, and Mira could only just see it.

That same feeling of inferiority appeared again later on. She could see it in Chucky’s face when he imposed on her for a moment of her time when she went off to find some water during lunch break. She realized he had followed her, and that he had probably been waiting for this opportunity to confront her away from anyone else.

“Hey, how was the test?” he asked with a feigned confidence she knew well.

“You never can tell what answers he wants, but I don’t think it matters much either way.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said, scratching his head with its shaggy hair.

Mira finished filling her bottle from the well and turned to look at him. She stood for a moment with his large figure before her, waiting for him to speak.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, before the silence became noticeable. The opening before him so obvious, Chucky couldn’t avoid saying what he had to say any longer.

“Thank you for the invitation. I realize you were giving them to everyone and so you had to give one to me too, but I appreciate it even if you didn’t mean it.”

This was so hard for him, and Mira wondered why. She couldn’t figure out the reason why he looked at her like she was twice his size. She heard how much he begged to be disappointed within his words.

“No, Chucky, I didn’t give you an invitation because I had to. I gave you one because I want you to come.”

A little light came into his eyes, but they hid behind so many expressionless body parts and facial parts that shielded and protected his emotions. Mira didn’t know what more she could say, and she thought the only option left was to leave.

“I would like to come to your party,” he stammered.

“Great,” she said. “I look forward to it.”

They returned to the schoolhouse, and the day slowly ticked itself away. She hoped more people would approach her in a similar manner, and her heart fluttered when she noticed someone stray from the group. But time went on, and opportunities for the others to speak privately with her came and went.

The anticipation she felt about hearing from them slowly turned to resentment. It hurt her that so many of them saw ignoring her to be the most favorable course of action. Though it proved difficult, she forced herself to remember that even getting four people to come would be an impressive accomplishment, especially considering she had never brought a single visitor into her home before. There would be a party, and she could either give her attention to the people who wanted to come or mope and pine for those who didn’t.

Still, she couldn’t help casting prolonged looks to her other classmates and wonder why they didn’t approach her. Mira even came to think better of Aoi because she at least made her intention clear. She knew she hadn’t spoken to some of them much, and some she didn’t know much about, but this seemed like the common courtesy she would afford to a perfect stranger.

In her most somber moments, Mira felt a dark blush over Vern’s silence. She remembered the apple experiment and the conversation with him back in the fall. It seemed at the time like she had made a connection with him, but it must have faded over the dark winter. Or maybe it had only been an important memory to her because she had been struggling to find her place at school and it didn’t really matter to him.

Perhaps Jeana and Kevin sensed this turmoil in their daughter and wanted her to look on the bright side, or maybe they themselves were just overly enthusiastic about the prospect of having a party. Either way, their delight and energy overflowed whenever they saw her. They counted down to the party with each passing day, and they began putting the decorations up a full two days in advance. Mira joked that they didn’t really know which day her birthday was.

But after all of the ups and downs, she went to bed on Friday night feeling like it was all behind her. The only thing left to do was enjoy her party with all those who wished to be there.

***

From the serenity of sleep, Mira gently awoke. Her eyes opened languorously to reveal her room in the soft hues of the morning light. She took a deep breath that was effortless and calming and, still in her pajamas, drowsily slumped down the stairs.

When she got there, she rubbed her eyes and gasped at the wondrous sight before her. The walls, usually white and brown, had all been covered over with black paper. Stars hung from the ceiling, and a few positioned lights gave them the appearance of iridescence. Wool and cotton covered the floor, as if she stood on the clouds with the world far below.

“Happy Birthday!” her parents shouted when she walked into the kitchen. So many pots and pans and bowls and plates full of ingredients covered every surface.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” she said, a little overwhelmed but entirely grateful. “This must have taken so long!” she added, giving her parents a hug.

“Sometimes it’s a wonder what goes on while you’re sleeping,” Jeana said.

Mira washed her hands and prepared to start helping when her parents steered her into a chair in front of a big breakfast. She said it wasn’t fair she should be eating while they were working, and so she convinced them to take a break and join her. Over breakfast, they discussed the guest list, events at school, and how ancient Mira had become.

Kevin got up to check on the stove, but then he left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a big box in his arms that blocked his entire chest from view. He set the brightly wrapped present down on a chair next to Mira. He told her to open it, and the command thrilled her. She tore at the paper and ripped open the box. Peering inside, she chuckled when she found another wrapped box inside. She pulled it out and opened it, finding another, smaller box inside.

Kevin and Jeana watched with pleasure as she rummaged around through the confetti and paper inside. Grabbing something, she pulled it out to see what it was. She brought a small snow globe up to the light. But instead of snow, a small cloud danced and twisted into beautiful spirals and shapes over and around a tiny home that looked an awful lot like Cloud Cottage. Mira gave him an impressed, astonished look. A similar expression found its way onto Jeana’s face too.

“As long as I’m alive to love you, it will never stop,” Kevin said to Mira.

“Thank you, Daddy. I love you, too,” she said, holding the globe in her hands.

Jeana cleared her throat and rose from her seat. She pretended to stir something in the kitchen but quickly disappeared up the stairs. Some noise came through the ceiling in the form of several loud thuds. Then came a long silence. Kevin and Mira exchanged inquisitive looks and then Jeana reentered the room with a shopping bag in hand. She graciously bestowed the shopping bag upon her daughter.

Mira, reaching into the bag, felt something soft and furry with her hand. She pulled it out and saw the white, fluffy fabric in her hand.

“This is from your carpet, isn’t it!” she said, equally thrilled and astonished.

“As long as I’m alive to love you, it will never stop being furry,” Jeana delivered.

While Mira examined the rectangular piece, Jeana took a moment to whisper to her husband.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t let you one-up me like that.”

Thanking her mother and father profusely, she gave them hugs again, and started to clear the table, hoping to ease their workload.

Mira spent some time cooking with her parents and then passed the rest of the morning down in the basement, where she put her mother’s gift to use. After lunch she hung the planets and the sun from the ceiling. Time ticked away and soon there was nothing to do but wait for the guests to arrive. As the time she indicated on her invitations approached, Mira started to doubt her classmates would really come. Maybe they would get lost and give up, or had just said they would come to be nice.

But, right at four o’clock, a knock came at the front door. Jumping out of her seat, Mira raced to answer it. Opening the door, she spotted Chucky standing there, looking a little like he’d been caught.

“Hi. Are you still having the party?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered. “You’re the first one here. Come on in.”

“Wow, you have an interesting house,” he said while taking off his shoes.

“No, it doesn’t always look like this. These are party decorations.”

Mira barely had time to bring him into the living room and introduce him to her parents when another knock came at the door. Looking at her like she meant to abandon him, Chucky watched Mira run back to the front door.

“Hey, Mira, happy birthday!” Mary and Roselyn sang in unison when she opened the door. Mira thanked them for coming and ushered them inside the house. Chucky had heard their exchange at the door and he kicked himself for forgetting something so important.

“I forgot to wish you a happy birthday. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well, it’s not too late,” she said, anticipating that he would do so next.

“Thanks,” he said, and then went back to looking at the decorations.

“Hi, I’m Roselyn. It’s nice to meet you,” the bubbly girl said, introducing herself to Mira’s parents with a kind of graceful self-confidence. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” Kevin replied. “We’ve heard about you.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard about me, but that’s ok. I’m Mary.”

They shook hands and exchanged greetings.

“Is anyone else coming?” Roselyn asked.

“Yes, Will is. Oh, that must be him now,” Mira said, hearing the door again. The other two girls followed her to the door to greet him. All smiles, they opened the door, but those smiles disappeared when they found him looking worn and disheveled with red spots all over his face.

“Are you alright?” Mary asked.

“Why do you ask? I’m perfectly fine. Happy birthday,” he said to Mira, smiling.

“Wow, this is pretty cool,” he added when they entered the living room.

“Thanks, this is our solar system. This big orange ball is the sun, and this is the Earth, and here are the two planets in between. Then there are a few other planets farther out. People used to think the planets traveled around the sun in a circle, but now we know their orbit is actually an ellipse.”

Mira and her guests sat at the table with the model of the solar system overhead. They were unsure of what to talk about or what to do, and so they glanced at each other awkwardly and tapped their fingers on the table. Kevin came over and took the last seat.

“So it’s been quite a while since I was a senior level student like you are. Has it changed much down there?” he asked, managing to arouse their interest.

“You were a student here before?” Will asked. “Was it the same as it is now?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m asking. It’s got to be a little different because we didn’t have to worry about a war waiting for us after finishing the academy and the Shadowing. Instead we could just focus on developing our abilities and having fun.”

“What rank did you finish with?” Will asked.

“There were only eight of us, but I finished first,” he said.

“Really?” Roselyn asked, leaning forward onto the table. “How did you do it?”

A little laughter escaped from Kevin because of this question. He thought about how eager they must be for any kind of information that could help them. At least he had their undivided attention.

“The one guy I had problems with could make the ground shake, like an earthquake. He actually knocked me over a few times, but I managed to catch myself on a cloud before I hit the ground. After that I just kept myself in the air. I swooped in, picked him up, and then dropped him on his back. Since there’s fifteen of you out there, you’ll have to constantly be on the offensive and defensive. I think the person who can do that the best will win.”

The students nodded approvingly as they checked his advice with their own strategies.

“Are you already thinking about the Final Trial?” he asked, before realizing they would be hesitant to answer in the presence of their opponents. They scanned each other, looking to see if anyone would speak.

“Um, I’ve been thinking about it since I was five,” Roselyn said.

“It’s sneaking up on you quick,” Kevin said. “Once the flowers hit full bloom, you’re there.” He became anxious to move beyond this touchy topic though. “I’ll tell you one of my favorite senior year memories. Have you been up to Dustfalls yet?”

“What’s Dustfalls?” Mira asked.

“Well, they don’t call it Dustfalls Academy for nothing. There’s this spot up in the mountains called Dustfalls. It’s a long hike out there, but it’s an unforgettable sight. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, because I’m sure Fortst is just waiting for the snow to finish clearing and the temperature to warm up a little, but I’ll let you in on a little of it. We took a trail through the bottom of this valley in the rock, a crevasse with fierce winds that opens up into a basin. Sand, grit, and dirt flow down from above like a waterfall and then out along the fissure like a sandstorm. We had to scale the wall with it pouring down on us.

“It killed, but I fought my way up the rock with just my feet and hands. Getting to the top is impossible for anyone as far as I can see, but it’s a great challenge. Because I made it farther than anyone else and I went on to finish first in my class, since then they say whoever makes it the farthest becomes the favorite to win the Final Trial.”

Only after he finished talking did Kevin realize that he had strayed from his intention to change the subject of the conversation away from their important, stressful, and looming trial.

“Is anybody hungry? Take as many as you like but don’t ruin your appetites for dinner,” Jeana said, setting cookies on the table.

“Maybe we should make paper spaceships now? Ok, I’ll go get the paper,” Mira said. She came back with the paper and gave a brief demonstration of how to make an effective paper airplane.

“The whole point is to make it as aerodynamic as possible. So if you make your folds crisp and tight like this then it should sail through the air without a problem.”

She walked around the table giving helpful pointers to her classmates. In the middle of making one with Chucky step by step, she heard a knock at the door.

“I wonder who that could be. I’ll be right back,” Mira said, looking at the time. About an hour had passed since her guests arrived.

“I’ll go with you,” Kevin said, taking the lead. Peeking through the window and then pulling the door open, they discovered Vern standing on the porch.

“Hi. I hope I’m not too late, am I?” he said.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Mira said.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I kept meaning to say something but I always forgot.”

“Oh. That’s ok, but you can’t come in unless you say the magic words.”

“Happy birthday,” he said and then walked by her as she cleared the way.

She took his coat and added it to the pile. Considering she had only seen him in heavy clothing all winter, it surprised her that he had gained some weight and no longer had the stick figure he did when she first met him.

Everyone at the table responded to his unexpected entrance with excited cheers. He waved to them with a winning smile and took a seat among them.

“We’re going to see whose paper spaceship can fly the farthest. Is that ok?” Mira asked.

“Yes, it’s ok. I’m going to take everybody down!” he said, getting to work on a piece of paper. Mira gave him a few suggestions and soon everyone had a functioning spacecraft in their possession. They hustled out into the crisp, cool air and launched their ships in turn.

Surveying the results, a couple of spaceships landed a few feet away, one took a nosedive and landed about five feet away, one sailed more than double that, Chucky’s actually went backward several feet, and one paper spaceship got caught in a tree all the way at the other end of the backyard. Everyone gave Will a look.

“I guess we should’ve known that would happen.”

“Here, try it again, and this time no extra wind power,” Mira said, handing him a spaceship. He threw it, and it twisted in the air, dove, and then hit him in the head when he ducked down. Everyone laughed.

“I made it do that,” he said.

“Yeah, right.” After fetching most of the planes, they all went back indoors to warm up. It seemed to Mira that everyone was having fun and becoming more comfortable with each other. They hung out in front of the fire, groaning about their test while darkness set in outside, until Mira got the thumbs up from her mother to start the next activity.

“So who’s hungry?” she asked, and everyone responded affirmatively. Setting two chairs next to each other and pulling out two blindfolds, Mira explained how the taste test would work. Two people would be fed the same food, and the first to name it wins. Roselyn and Mary volunteered first, and with the blindfold on only their noses and excited smiles were visible.

Making sure not to give them any hints, two others spoon-fed them at the same time. They chewed the food and tasted it, trying to figure it out.

“It’s got a round shape, soft and mushy, and it’s a little sweet.”

“What is it?” the spectators asked.

“It’s a piece of banana!” Roselyn guessed. She got it right, and then Will and Vern volunteered to go next. Once they were ready, they too puzzled over the food sitting in their mouths.

“Ahh, it’s getting stuck to the roof of my mouth. It’s gooey and sticky.”

“What is it?”

“Is it peanut butter?” Will asked.

“These are too easy,” Mira said.

“We’ll have to give you a hard one since you’re up next,” Jeana said. Once Mira and Chucky had their blindfolds on, Jeana brought out another dish, and everyone who could see laughed. Mira and Chucky chuckled nervously, wondering what they would be subjected to. A spoon found its way into their mouths and disgust immediately dawned on their faces.

“Guess what it is!”

“It’s all lumpy, and wet, and it tastes like cardboard. Are you sure this is food and not something you wash the windows with?” Mira asked. Chucky looked like he was about to spit it out, and those sitting near him shuffled away.

“It feels like yogurt but tastes like something else. I don’t even know. Is it yogurt?” she asked, pulling off her blindfold. She looked at the dish and saw red ketchup mixed with white cottage cheese. “That’s disgusting!” Chucky got up and went to the bathroom to wash his mouth out.

“You said you wanted something more difficult,” Jeana teased. “Who’s next?” she asked, but the fear of eating unusual combinations kept anyone from volunteering. “That’s too bad. Whoever went next was going to get a taste of this cake.” Everyone’s hand shot up, but Jeana waved them down and started setting plates on the table. She lit the candles and brought the cake out from the kitchen. In dimmer light, the beautiful candles illuminated a delicious looking chocolate cake.

Everyone sang, and Mira felt like she was in the company of friends. It wasn’t that long ago she had dreamed of something like this but thought it impossible because her world had been so tiny and so lonely. She offered everyone her heartfelt appreciation for being there. Blowing out the candles, she remembered to make a wish before cutting the cake into enough pieces for everyone to have a healthy slice.

Rather than sitting in the wooden chairs at the table, everyone spread out looking for a more comfortable spot to enjoy the cake. Those visiting Cloud Cottage for the first time perused the rooms of the ground floor, looking at the images on the walls while they hunted for a soft seat. Everyone settled in and relaxed as if they’d been there hundreds of times before.

After basking in the cake’s sugary goodness, it took a while for Mira to return to her senses. She spoke casually with a few people in the kitchen and could hear voices drifting in from other rooms, but someone seemed to be missing. Excusing herself, she went to take a quick head count. When she saw Roselyn and Chucky perusing a bookshelf, she immediately realized who had vanished.

“Hey, Roselyn, have you seen Mary?” Mira asked.

“No, I’m sure she’s around,” Roselyn said, unconcerned. Mira wondered if Mary had gone exploring into her personal areas of the house. Relieved, she found the basement and her own room empty. Because there weren’t too many other places to check, Mira looked in her parents’ room. Unable to find her, Mira could only reason that Mary had left the house, maybe to go home.

Running downstairs, Mira saw her coat mixed in with the others near the front entrance. She opened the door to see if she was on the porch and then, having no other ideas, walked out into the chilly dark air. She couldn’t hear or see anything at the front of the house, and she walked around to the back.

A bright glow extended from the fire and the lights inside through the glass doors and out into the backyard. She saw something in the garden on the ground. It wouldn’t be a bad spot to admire the real stars if it had been a little warmer. She took a few steps and began to distinguish her figure from the web faintly embroidering the night’s sky. Seeing only her back and her dark hair, she appeared to be huddled into a ball, shivering. Mira took her steps deliberately so as not to scare her.

“How do you do it, Mira?” Mary said without turning around and before Mira could speak. Mira came closer, spotting a piece of untouched cake on one side and taking a seat on the other. She turned her head to face Mary, who struggled to hold back tears.

“How do I do what?” Mira asked.

“How do you live like this without hating yourself everyday?”

“What? I don’t think my house is that bad,” Mira said, confused.

“No, I mean without a gift. I’m starting to think I’m just like you. In fact, I’ve been afraid of it for much longer than I’ve known you.”

“Oh,” Mira said, and she raced to pull together her own thoughts on her touchiest subject and present them in a helpful way.

“It’s true some people are lucky and have it very easy, but in a way we’re just as lucky. Our only limitation is the depth of our imagination. When we dive down to the very bottom, we can succeed just as well as anyone else.”

“Yeah, the only problem is when you’ve never accomplished anything,” Mary retorted.

“Ok, ok. It’s easy to get caught up in the ‘who is better, you or me?’ battle with everyone, but the only thing that’s really important is the effort you put into doing what’s right. It’s about supporting your friends, fighting for what you believe in, and never giving up. That means more than any flashy tricks.”

Mary closed her eyes and nodded her head. Mira could sympathize with her all too well, but she also wondered if this is how she paid for being such great friends with Roselyn, one of the class’s brightest stars. But that wasn’t the only aspect of this conversation that made her think.

“Now I’ve got something very important to ask you, and I’ve been waiting to ask it for a long time. It should get right to the core of the problem and I want you to think deeply about it and answer honestly. Can you do that?” Mira asked.

Mary nodded and watched Mira attentively.

“Are you going to eat that cake?” Mary sputtered laughter and motioned to hand over the cake, but Mira held up her hand.

“I’m just kidding. It’s yours. Let’s go back inside though and see what’s going on.”

Mary wiped her face and nodded again. They approached the glass doors side by side, and Mary looked well enough that no one would suspect that anything was wrong. They reentered the living room and rejoined the others, who now had bigger plates with mounds of the food that Jeana and Kevin had prepared. Vern, in particular, worked his way through a fully loaded plate. Each passing moment brought new sounds and gestures indicating the quality of the food. Mira and Mary quickly grabbed their portions.

After everyone had stuffed their faces, Mira thought it was starting to get late, and she was ready to close the book on a successful birthday party. The urge came over her to ask if they’d all had enough and if their parents would be worried if they were out too late, but another voice closed her mouth as soon as she opened it.

“So when are we going to get to see your room?” Will asked, and a simultaneous swiveling of heads showed everyone’s general interest in the question.

“Yes, you can see my room. Come on, let’s go,” she said, getting up. Mira explained that it was nothing special, but on the inside she appreciated their enthusiasm. Kevin and Jeana, side by side, watched them as they marched up the stairs and disappeared out of sight. They continued to stare blankly at the suddenly empty room until they heard the latch on Mira’s door catch.

Groping around in the darkness, Mira lit one candle, then two, and more until the whole room bathed in the soft light. She prepared herself to demurely explain her furniture and decorations, but she waited patiently to hear their first impressions.

“It’s awful nice of you to let your parents hang around at your party for so long,” Vern said. Confusion struck Mira. She didn’t expect to hear something like that and didn’t know what he meant by it. Some rattling distracted her and she turned to see Will remove the pouch from his pocket. The others started crowding around, almost forgetting she was there.

“What are you doing?” Mira asked.

“This is a Makara party, isn’t it? Let’s get started,” Will said. That’s when she put it together. For her guests, the real party had not yet begun. She remembered the apprehension she felt about the game when she first heard about it, and a wave of anxiety came over her. How could she avoid playing the game when she had put it on her invitations and all of her guests expected to play it?

Knowing she would have to bear it, she took a seat in the circle forming on the floor. This may not be the most fun part of her party, but it seemed to be an unavoidable necessity. Still, some optimism remained that it would turn out better than she feared. After all, she didn’t even know the rules.

“So how do you play?” she asked, looking at the pretty dice as they sprawled out on the uneven wooden floor.

“You really haven’t played before? I thought you were joking,” Will said. “It’s simple. On your turn, you roll the dice and everyone else reads them. They decide what your challenge will be, and if you accomplish it then you get a point. The winner has to get however many points that we want, but since there’s so many of us three points will do, I think. Do you understand? Here, you can watch first. Who wants to start?”

Roselyn, who sat next to Mira, raised her hand. She scooped up the dice in the pouch and shook them vigorously.

“Here we go!” she said with a big smile. She poured the dice down on the floor, and they bounced and rolled to a stop. Everyone looked at the images facing up on the dice, a wheel, a mouth, a pen, a fork, a house, and two blanks. Quickly, Will grabbed the blanks and the pen and put them back in the bag.

“Why did you do that?” Mira asked.

“The blanks don’t count, so you put them and any outliers that don’t fit into the challenge back in the bag.” Will said.

“A house? Cloud Cottage. Eating the house. A house on wheels. A wheel of cheese…cottage cheese. Ok, Roselyn, your challenge is to eat the cottage cheese mixed with ketchup with a fork!” Mira watched them ruminate together until they arrived at the challenge that Will put into words. Furrowing her brow, Roselyn got up, walked out of the room, and went downstairs.

“Excuse me, I’m still hungry. Is there any food left?” she asked, while the others listened from the wall by the stairs.

“Yes, lots. What would you like?” Jeana answered.

“How about that stuff you gave Mira during the taste test? I want to try it.”

“Yuck! I wouldn’t eat that stuff if it were the fountain of youth, but do what you like.”

A minute later she returned to the room with a small bowl with a red, white, and pink mixture inside. Mira couldn’t help but laugh as she wrapped her mouth around a forkful of putrid grossness. She could see why they found this game appealing. Cringing and shaking her head, Roselyn swallowed and put down the bowl.

“One point! Ha! You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Ok, Mira. You’re next. Are you ready?” Will said, handing her the bag. She held it for a moment, pensively. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she didn’t want to disappoint them. Swiftly, she turned the bag upside down and dumped the dice on the floor. She watched them settle on a tree, a hand, an arrow, a fish, a star, a book, and a door.

“Climbing a tree to the stars? A book about fishing. A wooden door.”

“I got it, handing a fish to the stars from the top of a tree.” Chucky said.

“No. We’re missing an opportunity here to see what Mira’s really made of,” Will said, scooping up dice until only the fish and the arrow remained. “That arrow’s pointing to Vern. You’ve got to kiss him.”

“No,” Mary protested, unconsciously casting her eyes onto Vern. “She doesn’t understand how to play yet. This is her first time. You can pass if you don’t want to do it,” she said to Mira. Vern didn’t look at all opposed to the proposal. Mira looked down at the arrow and the little fish. Her heart beat rapidly. How did they get kissing out of a fish? Her mind strained over the impossibility of actually going through with it. She felt all ten eyes upon her.

***

Downstairs, Jeana and Kevin had been listening to the rattling through the ceiling as they reclined in a love seat.

“You know what they’re doing up there, don’t you?” Kevin asked.

“Yes,” Jeana sighed.

“And you’re not worried something will go wrong and it’ll turn out bad?”

“Actually, I’m hoping for it,” Jeana whispered, pulling closer to Kevin. The fire blazed nearby and they felt the heat on their skin.

“What are you scheming now?”

“She’s going to have to rely on them when we’re not around. She’s got to have a chance with them,” Jeana said, trailing off.

“She’ll be fine. We’ll keep watch over her,” Kevin said.

“But it’s not just Mira’s birthday,” Jeana said, changing topic and breaking into tears suddenly.

“There, there, this is our life, and we’ve got to carry on for her.”

“I know. Just today. It only gets to me today,” she said.

“Come on. Let’s go get some rest. The kids can do what they will.”

***

Time stopped and raced simultaneously for Mira. Everything seemed to hang in the stillness of extreme emotion. She never thought this game would give her such a terrifying rush.

“Either do it or say no so we can move on,” Will said. She heard those words again and again in her head, this time coaxing and this time antagonizing. Did everyone else feel the same pressure she did?

“I’m going to do it,” she said, biting her lip and looking at Vern. In an instant, she leaned forward onto one hand, snatched Vern’s hand with the other, and pressed her lips to it.

“One point! Ha!” she said, mimicking Roselyn and gloating with satisfaction. The rest of the group howled.

“I told you she played this game before!” Will said to the others. “Nobody else would know to twist a challenge like that. Ok, Chucky, make it happen.”

Grabbing the pouch and giving it a single, harsh shake, Chucky wore a confident, determined look that Mira had never seen on him before. He rolled a spider, fireworks, a man, a mouth, a nose, and two blanks.

“Make him eat a spider! Eww. But the fireworks, he should drink his own sweat. No. How about he closes his mouth around his toes?” After a consensus formed around that last suggestion, Chucky took off his sock and seconds later had his foot in his mouth. The laughter of the sight met with disgust at the odious new smell.

“This guy means business! We should’ve had him eat a spider,” Vern said. He spilled the bag across the floor, rolling a woman, wind, a chair, a knife, a pen, a star, and the number three. No one immediately voiced any suggestions. They stared at the dice but the connections didn’t come easily. Mira wondered what they would do if no one thought of anything, but then she saw something herself. Though she hadn’t said anything during the previous deliberations, she drew out her command with intensity and relish.

“You have to cut your hair three times,” she said. Gasps from the others followed her as she got up to get the scissors on her dresser. Noticing the dirt on them, she wiped them off with a hand towel and then handed them over to Vern. He took them without saying a word. Fondling them in his hand, he turned to the mirror and took a long look at his stylish hair. A few jaws dropped when he turned back and set the scissors on the floor.

“That’s not a good start for you, Vern. Looks like she’s got your number. It’s my turn next. I hope you’ve got something good,” Will said. He turned over a star, lightning, a heart, a woman, a snake, a question mark, and a blank. Some mumbling ensued from different parts of the circle, but Roselyn cut in with a sharp tone and a furtive glance.

“A heart, a woman, and a question mark: tell us, Will, which of the girls in our class do you like the most?” She coyly drank in his hesitation, reveling in his conflicted trepidation. “You’re not about to pass, are you? Let’s see, maybe you’re not talking because she is in this room and you’re too afraid to say it. Better just give up.”

“You,” he said, but this was obviously not the right answer for Roselyn because all of the enjoyment drained out of her. She leaned back and sighed.

“Fine. Give him the point. Let’s move on,” she said. The deflated feeling stayed with her though, and she passed her turn even though it was the easiest challenge yet. Mira rolled a star, a fish, a question mark, lightning, swans, fireworks, and a blank.

“What are you going to make me do now, kiss a swan?”

“No, you’ve got to tell us something, a secret. It better be a good one or it won’t count.”

Feeling like she had just the thing, she told them to wait there until she came back. She slipped out of the room into the dark hall, leaving her friends in silence. She returned, evidently excited, and snuck through the doorway with her right side first. When they could see her plainly, they caught sight of something long and gray that Mira wore around her left forearm. She showed it off, waving.

“What is that thing?” sounded astonished and perplexed voices before her. Their jaws hung open and their brows scrunched. She silenced them with the flipping of a tiny switch that started a barely audible whirring. They listened and looked, and they became more puzzled.

“Who wants to see?” she asked, extending her right index finger for them to touch. Nobody moved, unsure and wary. She pointed to all of them, and none of them stood up to her. She had Vern in mind for this demonstration, and she told him to get up. She wasn’t finished with his hand yet, she said. She looked him straight in the eyes as he put out his hand because she wanted to make sure he would not forget it.

When the blue bolt of static electricity passed from her finger to his, everyone watching jumped as though they themselves had been shocked. Vern, of course, yowled in pain, though Mira knew it couldn’t be that bad and would only last a second. In that instant, they all looked at her in a new light, all trying to take stock of her. They didn’t know what this meant, but it clearly meant something.

She flipped off the switch and put her knuckle to the window to discharge the rest of the electrons she’d built up. No one said anything when she sat down in her spot, causing Chucky and Roselyn to scoot away. She didn’t mean to freak them out, and so she tried to get their minds back on the game.

“So is that worth a point?” she asked. They all nodded ominously. Mira felt excited about being one point away from winning, and she handed the pouch of dice to Chucky. He looked at it and set it down. Something had changed. They looked at each other and at her critically. She felt the tension between them, but it had nothing to do with the game anymore.

“Do you know what order you’re going to put us in?” Will asked Roselyn. Sheepishly, she shook her head.

“Other than putting Jeremy first, I haven’t decided. Maybe I should go next after him,” she said.

Mary gave Mira a serious nod and turned to speak to Roselyn. “I think I can take him. He’s a little smaller than me, and I’m not afraid of a few bug bites. Let me go next,” she said. Roselyn contemplated it for a moment and consented.

“Then let me go,” Will spoke up. “Jeremy’s got a lot coming to him.” He grazed the red marks on his face with his hand.

“If you insist. That means either Gerald or I will round out our group.” Vern snorted and shook his head in disgust.

“You’re a fool if you don’t put yourself last. What if you finish in the bottom third? You’d have to live with the stupidity of your mistake for the rest of your life!” Vern snickered.

His scowl found a counterpart on Roselyn’s face. Her pretty blonde curls looked like they would catch fire from the flush of anger that swept over her.

“You would do that, wouldn’t you? Put yourself last just so that you can avoid actually having to compete. Being a leader isn’t about sacrificing your friends so that you can protect yourself, it’s about making things happen instead of letting things happen,” Roselyn retorted.

Vern laughed boisterously. He looked to see if anyone shared in his amusement, but the others were stoic. This didn’t stop him from looking down on her though.

“How else do you expect to become leader? This isn’t a beauty contest. It’s every man for himself! And that starts with this list, not when we step on the field. Only you would think you have friends in a competition where everyone is out to get you. And here’s a prediction: it’s going to land you on your back faster than Chucky trying to walk on ice.”

“A beauty contest?” Furious and insulted, Roselyn rose to her feet, and Vern followed suit. The others got up too, hoping to calm them down.

“That’s it. I’m done with this,” Roselyn said. “Thank you for the party, Mira. I had a nice time.” She turned to leave, but Vern’s parting shot stopped her cold.

“I bet the Final will turn out the same way. She quits as soon as it gets tough. Walking off now will be good practice.”

A fury gripped her that absorbed her completely. She turned her head to him with an excruciating slowness. The words that escaped from her lips came straight from her unconscious.

“I’ll make you regret that.”

She took a forceful step forward, and the others crowded in to prevent her from getting to him. Mira wondered what devastating effect would come out of Roselyn’s mouth next. But Vern took a defensive step back, and his heel clipped the mirror against the wall. It shattered and the shards slid down to the floor with a heart-stopping crash.

Mira gasped as the pieces settled around Vern’s feet. Everyone stopped moving. She knelt down and stared through the frame at the wall. That mirror had been there as long as she had been.

“I’m sorry, Mira. I didn’t mean to,” Vern said. Mira stood up and everyone could see the pain in her eyes as she looked at them. She didn’t need to say anything; everyone understood that the party had come to an end. They grabbed their things from around the room, and Mira escorted them downstairs. They walked silently in single file to the front door. Grabbing their coats and preparing for a somber walk home in the cold dark, they offered words of appreciation to Mira for a great party and words of regret about how it ended.

Her guests departed just as they’d come, in ones and twos, disappearing into the deep shadows of a moonless night. Mira returned to her room to survey the damage. On the way, she glanced at her parents’ door, surprised the noise hadn’t woken them up. She saw it was late and doing anything other than going to sleep seemed impossible. Wearily, she inspected the wreckage on the floor of her room. Picking up the pieces wouldn’t undo the damage, and so she let them lie and went to sleep.

***

“How could you be so irresponsible?!” The harsh note of Jeana’s voice rang in Mira’s ear. Together, they looked down at the slivers on the floor that shimmered in the light from the window. Hearing her mother reprimand her, a tear rolled off her cheek and landed on the glass at her feet.

“I’m so sorry, mom. It was an accident,” she muttered.

“Was it that game that you wanted to play? Is that how this happened?” But Mira shook her lowered head.

“That game, it’s not really even about the dice. It’s just about testing limits and crossing boundaries.”

“Well this is one boundary you should not have crossed. That mirror was a gift to you from my mother, may she rest in peace, when we moved here and built this house. And now it’s gone forever.”

Tears trickled down Mira’s face. Jeana sympathized with her, and she regretted making her feel as bad as she did it. She pursed her lips and shook her head at her daughter with her hands on her hips. The mirror would not be a great loss if it made Mira more independent.

“It wasn’t because of the game. They got into an argument about the Final Trial. It looked like they were going to have a fight over it, but then Vern stepped back into the mirror and everyone stopped. They all left after that. I just wish it hadn’t happened.”

“It didn’t have to,” Jeana said, putting her hand on Mira’s shoulder. “They were in your house, your very room, and you are responsible for them. I know you’re not afraid to speak your mind, but you can’t be afraid to confront your friends, even though that can be a very hard thing to do. Letting them know what they were doing was unacceptable would be the best thing a friend could do. You have to be able to take control of them.”

Mira, still sniffling, struggled with her mother’s words.

“But what if they don’t listen to me?” she asked.

“It seems like that’s up to them, but it’s really up to you. If you speak clearly, directly, and seriously, they will respect your wishes and accept your commands. And then if they don’t, you have to show them there are consequences for that, like asking them to leave. This doesn’t mean you can’t be their friend or you shouldn’t listen to them, just that you have to help them do what’s right even when they can’t see it.”

“Ok, mom. I should have done that. I’m sorry,” she said with her eyes closed. After one last look, Jeana left her to clean up the mess. She told her to be careful but that she should think about how she let this happen. Mira carefully picked up the large pieces with her fingers. She saw her shattered reflection in the fragile shards. It pained her to look at herself in this moment. She had to be better.

***

Descending to the ground floor, Jeana met her husband, who worked at stripping the walls of paper and decorations. Jeana collapsed into a nearby chair and put her hand to her face.

“How did it go?” Kevin asked.

“It was hard. I can’t imagine having to do that more often,” she said.

“Mira’s a good girl. She wouldn’t ever do anything to upset us on purpose.”

“After she finishes at the academy, she’ll have to leave and we’ll have to come to terms with that. There’s a difference out in the world between doing what you need to do to get by and doing what your parents would like.”

“She’ll find a way to do the right thing. She’s smart like that.”

After sulking for another moment, Jeana shook off her melancholy and started removing the black paper from the walls. It surprised her to find the same wooden walls that had always been there underneath. Those flat sheets covered so well that they could have hidden anything.

Chapter 11: Paint and Pencil

Fortst brought the class to order with a thump on the lectern. Surveying the group before him, he noticed an empty desk near the back wall. He strained himself to remember who sat there and started counting the other students to arrive at it by process of elimination. As soon as he’d given up on remembering and resigned himself to starting class anyway, it dawned on him.

“Where’s Mira?”

The students turned to look back, only now noticing the empty seat. Those who had been at the birthday party contemplated if there was a connection between the empty seat and how the party ended. The rest just assumed she skipped.

***

“I don’t know,” mumbled a voice to the teacher, who seemed to wait for an answer. Fortst became incensed, and a surly grimace soured his face. But he glanced up through the open door and then just shook his head with disappointment. He saw Mira tiptoeing around the water-covered stone path and through the clearing’s mushy, marshy surface. She navigated around puddles with such precision that it seemed she wouldn’t make it to the schoolhouse until lunchtime.

“I wish you took as much care not to be late as you do to keep your feet dry,” Fortst said once she could hear him. Her foot making a splash, Mira leapt to the steps and entered the building.

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I have something important to say. Is that ok?”

As impatient and irritated as he appeared to be, Fortst never passed up an opportunity to waste time in class. He begrudgingly assented.

“I think today could be a very special day in the life of someone in this room, and a great mystery will finally be solved.”

“I thought your birthday was over the weekend,” interjected a voice.

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about,” Mira said, shaking her head. “I’m talking about Mary. I think I’ve figured out what her power is.”

A few gasps escaped from around the room, and the blood seemed to drain from Mary’s face. Her mouth hung open and she answered her neighbors’ hushed inquiries with signs of bewilderment and confusion. Daring to believe that Mira spoke with sincerity and cause, she hesitantly bought into her proposal.

“What…what is it?” she asked. Mira answered quickly.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what it is yet, but I have an idea and an experiment that I think will get us there. What do you think, sounds like a productive use of class time, doesn’t it?” Mira said, turning her attention to Fortst.

“Absolutely. I think we should exhaust every single possibility that exists if it will help us get to the bottom of this. Mary has been in the dark about herself for far too long. It’s intolerable!”

“Exactly,” Mira said, a little surprised that she had convinced him so easily.

“So what is your experiment,” Mary asked. “I hope you don’t have to cut me open or anything.”

“Not at all. Let me start by asking you something. Do you recall what you said to me the first time we spoke way back in the fall?”

“No,” Mary answered, after spending a moment trying to remember.

“You said that I felt different to you. And you reminded me of that when I was speaking with you at the party—we all had such a great time, didn’t we? Yeah, it was unforgettable—when I walked up behind you and you knew it was me.”

“But everyone feels different to everyone, right? And who else would do that at a party besides the host?”

“Maybe and maybe not,” Mira answered, with a contemplative hand on her chin. “That’s what we’re going to have to investigate. Ok, here’s what we need to have happen. Let’s push the desks against the walls, except for one desk that we’ll leave in the middle. That desk will face away from the door, Mary will sit in it, and the rest of us will be outside. Ok?”

Everyone stared at her for a moment, until Fortst clapped his hands and the students started to move their desks. Once they were against the wall, Mary watched them exit the building one by one, assembling on a dry area against the forest wall. Though they dreaded the puddles, they took comfort in the warm and comfortable temperature, which made standing outside an easy job.

“Now what do I do?” Mary said, sitting in the chair with only the back wall in view.

“One of us will enter the building behind you, and you have to tell us who it is. Don’t turn around or move your head at all,” Mira said.

Mira looked over the group and pondered which one to pick. Taking a big step, and motioning her to be quiet, Mira put her hand on Aoi’s shoulder and directed her to go to the entrance. Aoi stalked straight through the puddles to the entrance and then stopped in the doorway.

“Who is it?” Mira shouted.

“It’s Aoi. She’s the only one who doesn’t care to avoid the puddles.”

“No, no. We’ll have to try again. This time don’t listen to anything. I won’t say anything, and when someone comes up behind you and you know who it is, just say it.”

Aoi came back, and Mira sent Dot to go next. She whispered to take her time and to get to the entrance as silently as possible. Dot crept along the exposed ground, curving over to the stone path and following it to the door. Softly setting her feet on the steps, she stopped and waited.

“It’s Dot!” she said, and the crowd clapped and cheered in approval. They tried it one more time, and soon Mary correctly named Kurt as the one standing in the entranceway.

“She is psychic and can identify people without seeing them or knowing them!” Vern said.

“That’s one possibility, but we haven’t proved that yet. It does seem like some kind of sensing. Let’s get her out here and talk to her about it.”

Mira called to Mary and soon she walked out and took a seat on the steps. She had a determined, concentrated look on her face that showed how intent she was upon figuring this out too.

“When you know someone is there, how does it work? Can you close your eyes and see their face?” Mira asked.

“No, I can’t see anything other than what I imagine and what my eyes show me.”

“Well, what tips you off about whom it is? Is it something about the name or maybe a memory that comes to you?”

Mary tilted her head and thought hard.

“No, not really. It’s not something I ever really paid any attention to before. I just get this feeling and it makes sense to me who it is.”

“Ok, we have to find out what you are able to do to tell who someone is, and I think I have a way to do that. Please return to your seat and wait for someone to enter the schoolhouse behind you just like before. It will take a while, but just focus on that feeling, what it is and what it tells you.”

Mira motioned to everyone to stay put and she whispered to Fortst that she needed to go get something and would be back soon. Hopping over puddles to get to the trail, she then took off running through the trees. The crowd waited silently for a few minutes, and then boredom overwhelmed the students, who began to mill around and talk.

“Maybe she can tell who you are by reading your thoughts,” Dennis said.

“Oh, no! What if she’s been reading my thoughts all this time and I didn’t know it! I’ve been thinking lots of things that would be embarrassing if someone else knew about them,” Chucky said.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“I’m not going to tell you!” said Chucky, flustered.

***

Mira returned much slower than she left, and this time she had someone trailing along behind her. Coming through the end of the trail, she vehemently urged everyone to remain quiet. An old man emerged from the trail behind her, and only Fortst and one other student knew his name was Mert Bogger. The rest of them just saw a tired old man who looked around like he was lost.

Following the directions Mira had given him on the way to the senior schoolhouse, Mert ambled his way up to the entranceway as silently as he could without compromising his balance. He trudged up the cement steps, turning at the top to look back at Mira, who reminded him to stop and stay quiet. The students strained their eyes trying to see Mary sitting inside.

“It’s…it’s…I don’t know who it is!” Mary shouted.

Some of the students gasped, but Mira, undeterred, pressed on with her experiment.

“Ok, that’s fine, but you know someone’s there. Focus on that feeling, listen to it, and talk us through it!”

Mary closed her eyes and held her head in her hands as she tried to bring her mind to the person in the back of the room. She tried to see him, to feel the contours of his face with her mind, but nothing came to her. A little bit of desperation crept into her thoughts and she pleaded with herself to know. But nothing came to her, and she let it go blank.

That’s when the faint trace of a feeling made itself known to her. It seeped into the middle of her chest and she felt it sprout and bloom. This little ball of feeling that came to her when she stretched her senses back to the door seemed so warm and tangible.

“It’s this feeling I get in my chest, like the feeling when you meet an old friend or take a deep breath on a warm summer day. I can feel it growing. It feels like my breath is becoming tense, but I can breathe fine. It feels like I’m not taking in any air.”

Mira looked at Fortst, who nodded comprehendingly, and then she waded through the water and quickly came alongside Mert at the entrance.

“Open your eyes and come over here, Mary.” Obliging, Mary got up from her seat and approached Mira and an elderly gentleman she had never seen before. She joined them in the entranceway in plain view of all of the other students.

“Mary, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Mert Bogger.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” they said, shaking hands.

“Who are you?” Mira asked him.

“I don’t have to breathe,” he said. Mary’s eyes swelled and her mouth dropped open. She flushed with excitement. In that moment, the world around her had changed. Her shock coincided with the astounded whispers and murmuring of the other students.

“Now, Mary, I want you to close your eyes and focus on that feeling. Cast it out and practice taking in everyone here until you never forget what it feels like and you never fail to notice it.”

Resembling the awkward joy of an infant’s first steps, Mary hobbled down to the ground and let her feet sink ankle deep into the small pools. Unconcerned, she wandered over to the group with her eyes closed and gave them overjoyed smiles as her feelings made them known to her. The others appreciated what took place in front of them too, and a few looked up into the sky with admiration and reverence at the web, concealed within the sunlight

“Thank you, Mira,” Mary said with a swelling of emotion. “I’ll never forget this day.”

“Who are you?” Mira asked.

“I can sense the gifts of others,” Mary beamed.

“How come you didn’t figure that out before? It seemed so easy for Mira to figure it out,” Aoi asked. Mary just shrugged.

“I can answer that,” Mira said. “It was something so natural for you that you never realized it was anything unique. Because you spent all of your time at school, at home, and around town with people you are familiar with, you already knew everything your feeling wanted to tell you. And so if you’re so used to that, you wouldn’t know to listen at, say, the outpost market, where new people were around.”

Some of the students nodded in agreement with her reasoning.

“Wow, maybe Mira has a power too that she just doesn’t know about yet,” Dot said. But Mary spoke up before Mira could even entertain the thought.

“No, she doesn’t. There’s a similarity in the feelings I get from all of you, but with Mira it’s very different. It’s like you were all made with colorful paints that blend together to form a picture of eye-popping beauty. But Mira is drawn in pencil and doesn’t reach out in the same way, though it is still beautiful.”

***

Mira had to think about what it meant to be a pencil drawing instead of a painting, and for a moment she receded into her thoughts. That stinging feeling of isolation came over her, and it pained her to remember that she was different from everyone else. It would have been selfish to keep Mary’s secret from her, and Mira never considered it, but she wanted so badly not to be alone.

“Quite a long time since I’ve been here. This walkway is new, but other than that the place hasn’t changed much,” Mert said. The students regarded him with mild interest, and some began to look for other things to do. Mert sidled up next to Fortst.

“I used to teach the senior level some time ago. Course we didn’t have any of this war business to worry about, so I can imagine you have it much tougher.”

“I manage alright,” Fortst replied.

“Spring’s coming. You must be almost ready for the trip up to Dustfalls, and then the Final Trial isn’t long after that.”

“Dustfalls, you say?”

“Yes, up past the gorge in the mountains and at the end of Sliver Crevasse. A teacher has got to keep his wits about him up there. It’s not a walk in the park. Don’t tell me you don’t already know about it.”

“Of course I know about it,” Fortst snapped. “I just wanted to see if you knew about it. It’ll be another week or two until we make the trip.”

While Fortst kept an eye on the students, Mert shot him a long look.

“You got any predictions about who will walk away from the final number one?”

“Got a lot of strong contenders in this class. The day could go to anybody. Well, almost anybody,” Fortst said, wincing as he saw Dennis slip and fall into a puddle.

“Is that so? You’ll find out exactly how strong they are when they try to climb that wall.”

Fortst squinted and nodded his head slightly. Mert, giving him another look, took a step back and began heading home.

***

Kevin stormed into the outpost and marched straight to the back steps. He quickly raised his head to spy the tower and the idle guards perched inside. He continued on, shaking his head and grimacing.

After shuffling down the stairs, he flung open the door to Corey’s office. A few office workers attended to their duties while visitors waited patiently to speak with them. Kevin rapidly bypassed them, interrupting a conversation at the front desk.

“I need to speak with Corey, immediately.”

The pair, looking up from their paperwork, was taken aback by his rude intrusion.

“I’m sorry, sir. If you’d like to take a seat, we can attend to you when it’s your turn.”

“No, I’m not going to wait. This is important!”

Kevin motioned to plow through the opening to the office area behind the front counter, but Natalie suddenly stepped in to block him.

“I don’t recommend you do that. We would have to interpret that as trespassing and you would be dealt with severely.”

“I need to speak with Corey, and I have a right to do so.”

“Corey will not be speaking with you at this time. If that is the only purpose of your visit, you may leave now. Otherwise, please wait behind these people and you will be attended to in time.”

“These people? These people don’t realize that someone from the other side came here and tried to murder a citizen of this town. For all we know, they could be next.”

A look of alarm dawned on the faces of those who waited.

“Now I need to know if additional security forces will be posted here from Darmen, like Corey said they would be, or if we’ll be stuck with the same inept slouchers who let this problem sneak into our town in the first place.”

Natalie appraised him carefully. Kevin leaned against the counter, breathed heavily, and waited for her answer.

“Additional forces will not be sent from the capitol. They say their resources are spread too thin, and they cannot expend the energy to deter such isolated and unpredictable incidents.”

“Did Corey just tell you that or did you know that before?” Kevin asked.

“Mr. Ipswich, if you had really wanted to discuss information with us, then you would have been wise to make an appointment and arrive in a calm and respectable manner.”

“That’s just great. You’ve been a big help. Thanks a lot! Corey Outpost isn’t as safe as it seems, and I hate to find out what it’ll take for everybody to realize it.”

Breaking from her former restraint, regret crept into Natalie’s face and the tone of her voice. She called out to Kevin as he gravitated closer to the exit.

“Mr. Ipswich, no one wants to see harm befall your family, and we’re sorry about Darmen’s decision not to send reinforcements, but we can’t be held responsible for that.”

Shaking his head in disappointment, Kevin ducked out of the office and didn’t look back. He walked through the market in the courtyard, keeping his eyes peeled for suspicious faces. As he passed through, he glanced at the Darmen Exchange office and the uninhabited space along the wall next to it. He suddenly felt as responsible for Yannick’s safety as he did his own family’s, and they all seemed to be in such great danger.

***

“You’ve got to go to bed!” Jeana shouted from the top of the stairs down into the basement.

“Soon,” Mira responded. “I just need a little more time.” She sat back in a chair at the table with a light hanging over it. Unsatisfied and anxious, Mira looked at her walking toy robot, Clank, which had been striped of most of its metal. The face, however, remained intact, and the indentations she had pounded in for eye sockets taunted her ruthlessly.

Next to Clank, another machine she had spent countless nights working on stood lifelessly on the table. Almost two feet tall, it looked like an egg with two legs protruding from the bottom. The egg’s surface was dented and uneven. It balanced on the legs, which had no feet attached to them but were wide enough to make it stable.

Mira held the feet in her hands. They were webbed like a duck’s but hollow in the middle. She put her hands through the space, gripping the webbed toes with her fingers like a handlebar. Squeezing her right index finger, a button between the toes contracted and clicked.

She looked up and stared breathlessly at the egg to see if it would work. A nearly invisible line separated the top three-quarters of the egg from the bottom quarter. The top part started to spin, slowly at first, but gradually with more speed. She had drawn a circle with a marker on one side, and she watched to see how often it appeared in a certain amount of time. Setting aside the feet for a notebook, she counted and calculated. After a while the egg spun so quickly that the bright red circle never seemed to disappear.

Watching the uneven metal rotate around, Mira gave it an angry look and shook her head, tossing the notebook on the table.

“It’s still too slow…must be too heavy or dragging on something,” she mused to herself. She looked at the banged up and twisted pieces of metal strewn about the room, and they reminded her of another problem. She picked up one piece and ran her fingers over the dents and dings. The piece looked like a kite that would never fly.

A rusty hammer lay flat on the floor. The temptation came over her to pick it up and keep trying, but she remembered her parents had gone to bed and no amount of banging might produce what she wanted. She needed help.

Mira had her eye on Rowland all day at school the next day. She watched him drawing in his notebook, eating a chicken sandwich for lunch, and engaging in a conversation with Sophie after Fortst released them for the day. Fearing they would leave together, as they often did, Mira decided she had to interrupt. She stood near them and waited for a break in the conversation.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Do you think I could speak with you for a minute?” she said to him.

She had never really approached him before like this, and Rowland looked around to see if he could spot the reason for it. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he gestured to her to wait a minute and continued speaking to Sophie in a hushed voice.

He walked with Mira outside where they could have some space, while Sophie crossed her arms and waited for him to come back. Turning from Sophie’s jealous eyes, Mira addressed Rowland when she thought they were a safe distance away.

“I’ve got a job to do. Can you help me?” she said. Rowland lowered his head and flashed a wry smile.

“Need some help, do you? Now what’s this all about?”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I’m just making this sculpture and I was hoping you could help me with the metal wings,” she said, the discussion she’d had with Yannick about bartering suddenly in her head.

“Just for fun? Got nothing better to do?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well then I can’t help you. Everybody knows that nobody’s doing nothing now but thinking about the Final. So tell me what this is really about or I’ve got to go.”

His sudden shift, turning on her with his last comment, caught her off guard. He turned to walk away, but she scrambled to hold him back.

“Ok, wait. But I need to know something. Can I trust you?” she looked squarely at him and prepared to walk away herself if she didn’t get the right answer. He put his hand to his chin and looked thoughtfully down and to the side.

“Trust is an expensive thing to come by. The only way you can really be sure is if you know it’s in my best interest to help you. So let me ask you, how is doing what you need in my best interest?”

“I don’t know. What can I give you in exchange?” Mira asked, but Rowland just shook his head.

“There’s nothing you can give me, but there is one thing you can do for me. When we’re out there during the Final Trial, that’s when you pay back my help. Not only will you not do anything to hurt me, you’ll come help me if it looks like I’m in trouble. How about that for a deal?”

A look of wonder and trepidation swept over Mira’s face after hearing Rowland’s proposal. The expectations she had for what would happen as she tried to win seemed so improbable with this extra responsibility thrown in.

“You’re saying you want me to protect you? Isn’t that against the rules? It’s a free for all after all.”

“Look,” he began, laughing to himself. “I’m going to give this one away as a freebee. If you don’t think every other student in this class is working their own chain of secret alliances, then you got another thing coming. You’re jumping in at the end of it, but we’ve been preparing for this for our entire lives. Now I’m happy to help you, if I can count on you when the time comes.”

After the initial shock of this arrangement faded, Mira started to think that living up to an agreement would not be so difficult. Since fifteen of them would be out there, what were the odds she would be in a situation where she would need to act on his behalf? Even then, taking someone on with Rowland could be better than doing so alone. The service she requested would make her drastically more formidable too.

“Alright. You’ve got a deal, but I’ll need you for the rest of the afternoon, depending on how fast you can work. And if it gets down to the end, you have to know the only person I’ll be defending is me,” she said, growing more serious.

“Of course, of course,” he grinned. She watched Rowland approach Sophie, who still stood in the doorway. She had grown impatient, and Rowland’s news that he would not be coming with her made it worse. He tried to lean in and kiss her, but she stormed away. Picking up his bag, he returned to Mira.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said, but his unconfident tone made Mira think he questioned his agreement. Without saying any more, she led him home and instructed him to wait in the backyard. She emerged from the house first with a glass of cold water and second with several sheets of irregularly shaped and dented metal.

She set them on the ground in front of him, and he picked them up and ran his hands over them. He felt the cracks in the metal and the jagged edges.

“How does it work, the bending?” she asked. Rowland looked up at her, squinting with the sun in his eyes.

“It all just feels like putty in my hands, but that’s only the beginning. It took me a long time to learn how to touch. You’ve got to be soft and gentle, like with a newborn baby. Getting impatient and rushing will make it snap and break. Even these solid objects have a flow inside of them, and that’s what I can tap into and use.”

Exerting a slow, constant pressure, he took the metal sheet and folded it in half. He pressed it against itself, and soon the fold disappeared and the sheet became half as long and twice as wide.

“So what is it you need me to do?”

“I need two wings, like the wings of a hawk. They need to be identical, they need to be this long, solid, and they need to have a hinge at the top joint. And this piece has the right oval shape, but it just needs to be smoothed out. Can you handle that?”

“How long did you spend abusing this poor piece of metal?” he asked, picking up another sheet. “Yes, I can do it.”

“Let’s get to work then.” Mira directed Rowland’s every move. She watched him as he measured the sheets to the appropriate length. She told him how many indentations to make for the feathers. Most importantly, she helped him construct a hinge at the top that would allow the wing to rise and fall.

Rowland listened carefully to her directions and peppered her with questions. Mira could understand why he wanted to gain some insight into the mechanical creations she’d devised beyond just what he needed to correctly perform his task. Without a clue of what these wings were for, he saw that their complexity far outstripped any of the tools he had made, and her answers contained few details as well. As he molded and carved, a smile of excitement and wonder struck his face.

By the time he finished and Mira gave a satisfied nod at the beautiful and elegant handiwork he had wrought for her, he started asking her about some of his own ideas for new creations.

“I’ve never had to think so hard about this stuff before. I always thought it was just using my hands. I’ve got to know, Mira. What’s this for? What aren’t you telling me? I can’t put it together.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said. He looked at her pensively, and she knew he wanted to pry for better answers, but he said nothing more. He accepted her thanks, declined another glass of cold water, and decided to set off now that his work had finished. He had intended to remind her of their agreement when he departed, but at the moment he could only muster a serious look and a nod.

Soon Mira found herself alone with her pieces. She hauled them back through the house to the basement stairs. A broad smile peeked between the metal.

“What’ve you got there?” Kevin asked.

“I’ll show you soon. I’m almost finished.”

Setting the pieces down on her basement table, Mira got down to work putting the finishing touches on her machine. Taking the smooth shell, she covered the egg’s internal motors, circuits, and batteries. She attached the wings’ hinges to the outside of the shell, near the top. They hung down around the egg’s curves, and Mira tested them by lifting them up until they stuck out straight.

The last thing she did was stick on two large circles for eyes, making the final product look like a baby chick had broken through with its limbs.

All of this took some time, but Kevin hadn’t moved from his spot upstairs when she dragged her creation up to find him. He looked at the thing in her hands and scrunched up his face.

“We didn’t mean this when we told you to make friends.”

“Very funny, but you won’t be making jokes for long,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her outside.

Kevin took his place out in the yard under the budding trees. Mira set her footless chick on the green grass and took several steps back. She held the feet in her hands.

“Ok, you know what to do,” she shouted to him. “Try to attack me, but beware that you do so at your own risk.”

Kevin looked down at the metal hunk of junk on his lawn, which looked equally pathetic though more ridiculous than her last construction, and nodded. He directed his eyes to a puddle over near the garden, and Mira watched him salivate with likely thoughts of dunking her in it.

He took a step forward and Mira clicked the button on her control. Kevin stopped abruptly when the top of the machine began to spin. It gradually picked up speed, and Mira watched with breathless anticipation as the force of the spinning began to lift the wings.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want to give it a taste of your boot?”

“I’m not going anywhere near that thing!” Kevin said, unnerved yet engrossed. They both watched the spinning wings and listened to the steady whir. The wings reached the highest point the hinge would allow and stuck out straight, curving downward slightly at the back.

Time stopped for Mira as the sight of the rapidly spinning wings absorbed her. The machine started to totter, and then it gradually left the ground, hovering a few inches into the air. Kevin clapped his hands and laughed, and Mira raised her arms in success. The machine continued to gain altitude, climbing up to their waists, chests, and just over their heads.

Mira walked underneath the flying contraption and looked up at the sky through the spinning wings. A hawk soared above them, gliding beautifully and majestically just like on the day Mira had first been exposed to the wide world.

Collecting both feet in one hand, she reached up with the other at the stumpy legs above her. Without much effort, she pulled it down a few inches. Letting it go, she shook her head and came out from under it. Pressing another button, the machine began to slow down and sink. A few inches above the ground, it dropped suddenly and fell on its side.

“It’s still not good enough,” she said with a pained look. Kevin come up beside her and put his arm around her.

“You’ve still got some time, and, besides, this can’t be your only form of defense. As cool as this is, it’s not going to knock anyone over. Only you can do that. You’ve got to think about what you’re up against and what you’ll need up your sleeve to come out on top.”

“I know,” Mira said. “You have to knock people out to win, and I still need to figure out how I’m going to do that.”

“Just put your mind to it. The answers will come to you. Haven’t they always?”

Chapter 12: Dustfalls

After peering at the clear mucus caught in a rag, Vern once again brought the rag to his face to unleash a powerful sneeze. He wiped his face and tried to sneak a glance back at the row of students following him. Though they marched along in unison directly behind, he scolded them all for being slow and barked at them to catch up.

Blossoming trees hung overhead, offering some shade from the bright sun. The outpost shrunk behind them in the distance. It faded back just as the mountains before them grew taller and more threatening. They had started before the sun came up and wouldn’t reach their destination until it had risen to its peak.

Fortst walked impatiently alongside his charges, frequently passing them and then stopping so they could catch up. His head twitched back and forth, trying to look in all directions at once. He kept vigilant, and they all wondered what kind of danger Mr. Bogger had referred to.

In the middle of the line, Will swatted at the mosquitoes that casually attacked him. He had slapped his right cheek so many times that it had taken a distinctive red color. To retaliate, Will stuck his foot out to trip Jeremy, who walked in front of him. Will felt something tickle the back of his neck. Reaching back to slap it, he grumbled when he found some blood and a dead mosquito in the palm of his hand.

“You’d think you would care a little more about your flies, Jeremy, and not send them off to their death one by one.”

“If they can provide me with a little amusement, their lives were well worth it,” he said.

Elsewhere in line, Roselyn and Mary chatted incessantly. If they had to spend all this time walking along, they might as well entertain themselves while doing it. Fortunately for them, they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. From people in town, to their hair, to stories from the capitol, their conversation shifted fluidly without the slightest interruption.

“If you don’t stop that idiotic gossip right now, I’m going to reach down your throats and make sure you never speak again,” Aoi said.

Having been so absorbed in their conversation, it startled them to find they weren’t alone. They looked back at Aoi’s bloodthirsty glare and clenched fists. She wanted to make good on her threat.

“You know, you might have better luck if you weren’t so mean all the time,” Roselyn said to her. Aoi blinked and scrunched her brow, confused.

“Better luck at what?”

“Any number of things, boys, people in general, life, being happy,” Roselyn said.

“You do realize we’re going off to war, right?” Aoi asked, strands of her black hair hanging over her hard eyes.

“What better place to meet boys than a war,” Mira said.

“That doesn’t mean you have to be angry about everything and miserable. Don’t you think it’s better to let minor irritations roll off your back rather than kicking up a fuss every time things aren’t quite how you want them? You might find it’s possible to actually enjoy things that way,” Roselyn said, her curls rolling over her shoulder as she faced forward.

“I’m not miserable…” she whispered to herself after a time.

They left the edge of the forest behind, and ventured into rockier territory. The barren stone mountains wrapped around their point of view, and a cool breeze swept down into their faces. Their path inclined gradually, and they struggled to walk over loose gravel. Fortst now led the group by several paces. He tried to scout ahead for signs that they headed in the right direction. He looked down every diverging trail for the narrow chasm. As they walked through the maze of fissures, caverns, and craters between the two mountains, it dawned on them that getting lost with little water and no food could easily come to pass.

The group wound through the passageways with the sun beating down overhead. A few began to complain of being tired, which only served to make the rest feel tired. They arrived at an indentation in the rock that would shield them from the sun and decided to take a break. Sitting down, they let their heart rates and breath settle while Fortst dashed around the rocks in an attempt to figure out where they needed to go. Rowland broke the silence.

“I heard at Cypress Mill Academy last year they all agreed upon their final rank beforehand, and all the students just laid down in that order without any kind of a fight.”

“Sounds good to me,” Vern said. “I know you all won’t mind letting me have the top spot.” Every student who entertained thoughts of winning laughed, and the sound echoed a quarter mile away.

Shuddering from an impressive leap, Fortst caught a ledge and pulled himself up a steep rock face. His chafed hands and strong arms had no trouble scaling to the top. The students watched him from their spot in the shade, waiting for him to give them some kind of signal.

“I don’t think we could do something like that. Do you know how they did when they came back from The Shadowing and went off to fight?” Will asked.

“I guess they just worked like clockwork, everyone doing exactly what they were supposed to perfectly, and they’re all still alive and fighting,” Rowland said.

“Wow,” someone muttered as the grimmer likelihood of their own future took hold of their minds.

Pulling himself over the top onto a flat ledge with a few grassy tufts, Fortst got to his feet and surveyed the wide expanse around him. Between the two mountains, the outpost appeared to be nothing more than a tiny speck. Underneath him were natural stone pillars, boulders, and the mountains’ roots that they navigated through.

Walking off to the left around a bend, a breathtaking sight stopped him cold. Behind the mountain, another peak in the chain rose, one he had not seen before. Unlike the other stone behemoths, worn into strange shapes by water and wind, this one looked like a giant anthill, and about as solid. It took a perfect cone shape all the way down to its base, right above a basin and a narrow chasm.

“We’ll be fine,” Vern said. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Why do you always assume it’ll be you leading us?” Aoi sniped. “Do you think if you just insinuate it often enough we’ll all forget how terribly that would work out?”

“It’ll work out a whole lot better than if we all had to follow every crazy impulse that crosses your mind. If it couldn’t be me, I’d much rather see someone like Rowland get it, at least he has some idea about strategy.”

“Crazy? I can’t believe you just said that. At least I wouldn’t just be looking out for myself!” she said, jumping to her feet. Jeremy watched from the corner, smiling, shaking his head, and musing about plans of his own.

“We’re going to decide this the same way it was always going to be decided,” Roselyn interjected. “We’ll have the Final Trial on the Vernal Equinox, and whoever wins will be our leader, for better or worse. Getting into shouting matches now won’t do anything.”

Mira peeked her head out from the cavern and caught a glimpse of the sun’s location high in the sky.

“It’s only days away now,” she said.

Fortst ducked around a corner and came into view.

“Break time’s over! It’s this way. Let’s get going!”

The students reformed their line, with Vern at the front, trudging along behind Fortst through the mountain pass. They crawled around mysterious stone pillars as the path dove down into the rock. The walls surrounding them grew taller, and the students marveled at the distinct layers of stone from eons ago that they could reach out and touch.

A slight breeze, like a breath, blew into their faces. It distracted them from the rocks and the silence. Passing more rock embankments and curving around more stone pillars, the breeze grew stronger. They no longer stepped on solid rock but traversed a sandy surface. Just as the students began to lean into the wind to keep their footing, they came upon a narrow path to the left from which the breeze gusted with fierce intensity.

“Not much farther now. Come along!” Fortst shouted from the front. By the time his voice traveled to the end of the line, it had been altogether consumed by the wind. Walking onward required great effort now, and every student ducked just behind the one ahead. They seldom dared to look ahead. The wind carried sand and grit that pelted them from head to toe. It collected on the ground, and their progress went from a walking on a beach to heaving through a nasty sand trap.

Fortst took the brunt of it himself, scoffing at this puny obstruction. He lunged forward with a long stride, his boot sinking into the sand like it was snow. Momentarily losing his balance, he reached out for the wall with his hand. Soon the entire group huddled against the sidewall, looking for easier passage.

After what seemed like an eternity, Fortst looked up and caught a glimpse of the chasm’s end. The wind and the sand spat at them, and several students slipped and fell to the ground. Only when they joined hands did they make it to the end.

They exited into the opening and immediately felt relief from the wind pressure, which the narrow chasm intensified. A few of them laughed, and the rest enjoyed being able to hear again. Once everyone had been pulled out of the wind tunnel, they could finally take stock of their surroundings.

The most impressive feature of this basin, which they marveled at with a never-ending fascination, was the sand waterfall that poured down from the top of the gorge. The billowing stream originated at the bottom of Anthill Mountain, which towered overhead. Millions of tiny grains of sand slipped down the mountain every second. They tumbled down the dustfall and either caught the wind and rode away or trickled to the students’ feet.

Their eyes turned to the mountains and the blue sky above, many of the students felt pleased that such a beautiful place existed and they were there to witness it. The long march seemed well worth it, and they entirely forgot why they had come until Fortst climbed onto the sand heap behind them.

“From what I hear, whoever can make it the furthest up these walls is the favorite for the Final Trial. So let’s see what you kiddies can do. Don’t hold back now!”

Looking up high enough to examine the walls of the basin, they saw the sand and wind had worn the surface considerably, leaving few sizable ledges. The walls were tallest near the chasm entrance, which caught the wind, and the shortest, most appealing walls flanked the dustfall.

The students walked around to the sides of the fall and looked at the rock face. Perfectly vertical, it still towered over them at ten times their height. They spied a few sufficient-looking holds, and it wasn’t long before they readied themselves to give it a try.

“Out of the way!” Vern said. “I’ll get this over nice and quick.”

He approached the face of the wall and raised his foot up to one stone jutting out from the flat surface. Putting his weight on it, he raised himself up and caught another hold. Just in case it would end quickly, Will elbowed his way to the wall on the other side and began to work his way up. Vern, several feet above the ground, reached his leg out to catch a stone to his right, but his foot slipped and a moment later his back was in the sand. Those watching him laughed.

“I’m still winning. I doubt anybody else will do better than that!” he said, getting to his feet.

Roselyn looked carefully at the wall. She put her foot in the same place Vern had, and she raised herself high enough to catch another hold with her hand. She looked at the stones she had to work with and the one in her left hand that held her in place. The next step would be to pull herself up with her hand and catch another stone with her foot. Instead, she hopped down from the wall and dusted off her hands.

“This is not a good challenge for me. I prefer a surprise victory anyway,” she said, resolved that it was not worth the trouble.

Will quickly found his way back down to the sand pit too, and other students were eager to take their places. Rowland and Mary began their ascent, and both seemed like competent climbers from their very first moves. Mary reached with her foot for the stone Vern had slipped on, but it held her and allowed her to take another step up. She looked around and saw little to work with. She held her hand out to the tiniest groove, slipping and falling as a result.

“Umph!” she groaned when her side collided with the sand.

Having watched the others, Mira felt confident she could put forth a good showing. After all, her father had been the best at this in his class, so it must run in her blood. She chose the side Will and Rowland had used because it seemed to have more holds even if they were smaller. As long as her shoes and balance held, she envisioned herself making it much farther than those before her. Next to her, Rowland lost his grip and jumped down to the ground.

A few students watched her thoughtfully as she selected different holds and stretched to create a new path along the old one. Despite sand getting in her fingers and eyes, both focused on the smooth stone steps. Pulling herself up, lifting and swinging her feet onto another ledge, she surpassed Rowland but not Mary. Eventually, her boldness proved greater than her ability. She reached out for a tiny ledge and had to put her weight on it before she had a firm hold. She slipped down and smacked against the hard sand. Spitting some of it out of her mouth, she heard Roselyn clapping from her seat up on the sand hill and took a quick bow before getting back in line.

On the other side, Chucky made his attempt up the wall. The temperature and the sun were getting to him, and already thick globs of oil dripped from his skin down to his shoes and the ground. He put his foot on the first hold and it slid off as soon as he put pressure on it, leaving behind a greasy coating. He tried again, this time reaching up to a ledge with his hand, but he couldn’t hold it for more than a few seconds before it became too slick to hold. Aoi stood behind him in line, and she stormed up to him as soon as she saw his effect on the surface.

“Get down from there! You’re mucking it all up!” she shouted, pulling him off as he went for a third attempt. Chucky shook some of the sand out of his shaggy hair.

“Look at this!” she went on. “Look at what you’re doing. Face it. You’re not going to be able to do this, so stop screwing it up for the rest of us. Now go over there to the failure club,” she ordered, pointing to Roselyn.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he said, shaking his head at her.

“Not yet I can’t, but soon,” she snapped. “For now, just think of it as a dose of common sense!” Chucky looked to the rest of those waiting in line. His eyes met with nothing but blank faces, and so he climbed up the sand hill and took a seat near Roselyn.

Aoi jumped up to a small ledge above the ones covered in Chucky’s goop. She caught it with one hand, and her body hung down without any other support. Putting her foot against the flat surface, she swung herself over and launched herself several feet up and to the right. She caught another ledge with her hand, and the students applauded. Swinging higher and higher, she displayed incredible acrobatic feats. Without using her legs at all, the strength of just one arm was enough to pull her up.

While she climbed, Mira walked to the edge of the wall and put her finger to the oil Chucky had left behind. She rubbed it between her fingers and felt how slick it was.

Above, Aoi had far surpassed any of the other students, who gazed up at her. She scanned the rock face, searching for her next move. She looked down at the students below. She paused, unsure of what to do next.

“There’s nothing left to grab onto,” she whispered. Refusing to give up, she hopped up to the perfectly flat space above her and tried to grip the smooth wall. Without anything to hold on to, she slid back down the space, caught a rock with her foot, and then jumped down to the ground. She took a look up at where she had been, wiped her hands on her clothes, and boasted that no one could surpass her. But that didn’t stop her from getting back in line to try again.

By the time the students had tried three or four times, their limbs began to tire, and their attempts became less successful. When they fell into the sand, their exhaustion caused them to move more slowly, and Fortst took it upon himself to pull them up before the sand buried them.

***

Mira knew she couldn’t outperform Aoi or even Mary. Looking for another way, she got out of line, saying she quit, and began casually walking around the edge of the basin. Taking care to be discreet, she searched along the edge of the wall for another path. Her hand grazed the rock face, dragging her fingers against it.

A tune drifted into her mind then. She thought she remembered a simple lullaby her mother sang to her when she was young. It made her forget about her tired arms, and the wall appeared so clear in that moment. All of the ledges stood out as if they had a special light. Her mind awoke to them and understood the puzzle they created.

The tune continued as she passed the chasm opening and walked to the other side. Right there, where the wall stood highest, she could see the way. It looked as simple as a set of stairs to her. Placing one hand and one foot, she reached up and took hold of the wall’s first nubs. She felt a peace of mind and a focus in the gentle rhythm of the lullaby. Breathing easily, she scaled the wall. Her path gradually took her to the right, and she pulled herself onward with her legs and arms, feet and hands.

Climbing higher and higher, her feet finding firm footing on tiny ledges, she worked her way up the basin. The lullaby brought a warm feeling to the center of her mind, making her feel safe when she wasn’t, calm when she should be nervous, and attentive when she would be distracted. Mira ascended to many times her height, continuously climbing upward and to the right.

“Look!” somebody shouted, but she barely heard them through the lullaby. Her hands and feet moved with the simple rhythm, and soon she had made it all the way over to where the other students were climbing, though she stood far higher than any of them had. Some students gasped, thinking that at any moment she would slip and tumble from the precipitous height. Fortst stood ready to catch her.

Mira’s classmates had all stopped climbing, though a few looked for where Mira had begun. The rest gazed up at her in awe. She continued to the right until she made it to a ledge directly underneath the dustfall. This ledge stretched for a few feet and had width enough to stand on comfortably. All of the students crowded under the fall, and she looked down at them with the wind blowing through her hair and the sun shining on her face.

She looked around to see if it was possible to get higher, and that’s when she saw it, a name scratched into the rock face: Kevin Ipswich. The wind and the sand had softened the edges, but the letters were unmistakable. Mira ran her fingers across them, and she imagined her father being in this very spot so long ago. This is how far he had made it, and he must have found the same path to get here.

Taking out the screwdriver she always carried with her, she scratched her first name under his. She dug as deeply as she could so that those names would remain long into the future. She decided she had gone far enough, and so she looked for a way down after she finished writing. It was a long way down to the sandy floor.

“How do I get down?” she asked.

Fortst motioned to catch her, and she let her toes hang over the edge. The lullaby had left her, and now jumping down seemed like a terrifying proposition. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped. She felt Fortst’s arms around her seconds later, and he set her down.

“I’m impressed,” Fortst said. “Looks like you take the cake today.”

“I would’ve tried harder if I knew there’d be cake,” Chucky grumbled.

No one else found the spot where she had started her climb, though Mira had a feeling someone knew.

“Thank you, for that,” she said to Roselyn as they prepared to leave.

“For what?” she replied with a cool smile.

“You know what it is right, your power? There’s this little spot in your brain just behind the forehead that controls emotion. It’s called the hypothalamus, and your notes reach it,” Mira said.

“Is that so?” Roselyn replied. “I just like to think I bring out the best in people.”

Returning home proved to be much easier with the wind at their backs and a solid grasp of which direction they needed to take. It seemed especially easy to Mira, who still enjoyed the satisfaction of her achievement that day. Maybe it would translate into a better result at the Final Trial. It might also mean the others would finally see her as a serious contender, and they would try harder to knock her out as a result. Only time would tell, though little time remained.

An orange sun hung low in the sky by the time the group returned to the schoolhouse. Everyone yearned for a hot meal and a chance to wash away the sand that caked their skin. Spending a long time in bed sounded like a good idea too.

“Ok, troops!” Fortst called when everyone had arrived. “We’re just a few days away from the end. Our last day of class will be tomorrow, during which the Team Trial captains will deliver the order for the Final Trial. After that you will have three days of personal training before the Vernal Equinox and the Final Trial. Understood? Good, now get out of here.”

“I can’t believe tomorrow’s the last day,” Mary said to Mira as they walked down the forest path. Flowering plants littered the ground, and the tree blossoms were coming into full bloom.

“I know,” Mira muttered. She certainly couldn’t believe it. Though she’d only been there for six months, she could never imagine leaving or what would come after.

***

In what seemed like a flash, the next day arrived and the students returned to their desks for the last time. Mira felt a fondness for her worn desk and the ratty schoolhouse; somehow the thought of leaving it behind made it beautiful and precious. She pondered how the other students must have felt. Vern, Aoi, Roselyn, Mary, Will, and all the rest had grown up together in these schoolhouses sitting at the end of criss-crossing forest paths. A few stared blankly at the walls, moments from their lives no doubt skipping through their heads.

Even Fortst displayed a wistful melancholy. He wore the same thick trench coat as ever, but he betrayed his gruff exterior when his voice choked up.

“I tried to do my best by you. I did. It wasn’t always easy, but I hope when the time comes I taught you something that helps you. Just remember this, you can’t measure a life by its successes or failures. It’s the spirit that matters. Keep your friends at heart, and work for their good at all costs.”

He stopped for a moment, and the class sat in silence. He looked at each of them, displaying a sense of surprise at finding them matured. What did days ahead have in store for them? Though no one showed any signs of discomfort, Ogden Fortst felt compelled to bring the class to its final motion.

“Will the captains report the order of their teams? Roselyn?”

Slowly rising from her seat, the class could see that Roselyn bore the heaviest burden of them all. Her eyes were red and tears ran down her cheeks. She had been asked to deliver a list of five names, but instead the only thing that could come through her lips was song. The melody was simple but sweet, and it spoke to them all of the hardships they endured, the joys they experienced, and the memories they cherished. The last note trailed off, and even their hearts seemed to slow in the hopes of holding onto it.

“Jeremy, Mary, Will, Roselyn,” and here she cast a glance to Vern, but his face displayed no mockery or malice, “and Gerald.”

“Very well. Aoi?”

Aoi quickly rose from her seat, the one Mira had repaired. She looked around at her fellow students. Her face had a thoughtful and compassionate quality to it that she rarely showed.

“I just want to say I’m sorry. Chucky, Mira, Rowland, Andrew, and Aoi.”

“Very well,” Fortst said again as she returned to her seat. “Vern?”

But Vern had already stood up. His desk was near the side of the classroom, and so he could easily turn to address his classmates.

“It’s been a long road getting here, hasn’t it? Our Final Trial is finally here, and I know we’ll all pour our hearts into it. I’ve been class leader for a long time, but whether or not that continues doesn’t matter. I know we’ll be in good hands and we’ll work together no matter what happens. Oh, boy. Is it time? All right. Here goes. Kurt, Sophie, Dot, Dennis, and Vern.”

“Very well. Each of you will enter the grounds of the final trial one-minute after the one before. The last student standing will be declared class leader. We’ll be meeting at the meadow grounds near the first year house at dawn on Sunday morning. Don’t be late. Ok, that’s it everyone. Empty your desks and take everything with you when you leave, use your time wisely, and I’ll see you Sunday morning.”

Though he had clearly dismissed them, no one got up from their chairs. Fortst, taken aback, scratched his neck and squinted at the students. He took a step around the podium, stopped, considered repeating himself, decided against it, took another step, stopped, and then walked down the center aisle and exited the schoolhouse.

The students began to empty their desks at a slow, lethargic pace. Mira removed her notebooks, pencils, screwdrivers, nuts, and hammer. She emptied them into her bag, peeking into the desk to see if she had gotten everything. She had, and she felt sad that it was like she had never been there. The other students began to get up and mill about. No one seemed anxious to leave.

“Hey, do you remember when we were second or third graders, and we used to sneak up here and pretend we were seniors?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Mary laughed. “How did this place seem so mysterious and enchanting?”

“There’s only one reasonable explanation,” Will said.

“And what’s that?” Dot asked.

“We were dumb kids,” Will explained, and everyone laughed.

“Some things never change,” Roselyn teased. “There’s still some mystery here though. I’ll never figure out how this decrepit shack is still standing.”

“What do you think, one more game for old time’s sake?” Will said, reaching into his bag and pulling out his sack of Makara dice.

“Why not?” Mary replied. The students pulled some desks together and sat down. Will rolled the dice, which turned up a mouth, a fish, a chair, a tree, water, lightning, and a blank. Mira leaned over to see what came up.

“Make him lick the desk,” she said.

“But this is Dennis’s desk…and it’s still warm!” Will cringed to everyone’s amusement.

Smiling, Mira left them to their game. She grabbed her bag and walked through the door. A few students were sitting in the shade, talking and joking. On the other side of the clearing, Mira saw Chucky taking the path home, and she hurried to catch up with him.

“Chucky, wait up!”

He stopped and turned, confused.

“What? What is it?”

“Hey, I need your help with something. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” he said, without hesitation. “What can I do?”

“Actually, I need some of your oil,” she said, pulling a glass bottle out of her bag. “This much would do. Is that ok?”

“No problem,” he said.

“Really? Great. Wow, thank you so much,” she said. Mira expected to have to make another deal or answer a bunch of questions, and so Chucky’s reaction brought her some relief. They agreed on a time and a place to meet before the final and then walked together down the path.

“Are you sad to be finished here,” she asked.

“It was good for what it was,” he said. “But I’m hoping for bigger and better things in the future.”

“That’s a good attitude to have,” Mira said.

They parted ways in town, and Mira turned to take the road home. She walked through her front door, and took a seat on a comfy chair. Without school to go to, it seemed for a second like nothing had changed from when everything in her world existed within walls of mist. But moments later she remembered all the work she needed to do and the precious little time in which to do it.

***

When she wasn’t working on her creations in her basement laboratory, Mira spent her free time in the following days preparing in every way she could. She wrote detailed strategies on what she should do if she turned a corner and ran into any of her competitors. She frequently talked with her parents about their experiences and how to deal with being the seventh one to start. She also went out for long runs in the woods, with her father tagging along.

“I thought your father was with you?” Jeana asked when Mira slipped in through the sliding glass door.

“He’s coming. Don’t worry.”

They looked back through the glass pane at Kevin, who jogged in like a wounded dog. Sweat drenched his shirt, his face was red, and he gasped for breath.

“I let you win. Trying to build up your confidence for the weekend,” he said, collapsing onto the floor.

“Thanks,” Mira said. “I’ll need all the confidence I can get.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jeana said. “Just remember there is a time to fight and a time to run.”

“Oh! Speaking of time, I have to go meet Chucky.”

Mira grabbed a bulky bag and in the next moment the front door closed, signaling her exit. Still looking a little flushed from the run, she walked down to the outpost. She saw Chucky standing in the marketplace, right where they had agreed and at exactly the right time. He held the jar, full of goopy jelly, in his hands.

“I hope it wasn’t too difficult to do,” Mira said.

“Not at all. I’ve got to start getting myself into better shape anyway. It helps to have a plan of attack.”

“Yes,” Mira agreed. “And this should help as well.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a silver helmet. Dings speckled the surface, but it looked like it would fit. She even glued some padding on the inside and the edges so it wouldn’t rub.

“I think you’re going to turn some heads this weekend,” she said, handing the helmet to him.

“And now I might even avoid cracking open my own in the process,” he said. “Here. I hope this stuff does whatever you need it to. Most often it ends up just getting in the way.”

She took the jar in her hands and held it up to her eyes. She felt confident it would do what she needed it to. Chucky’s look caught her attention though, and she dropped the jar into her bag. It looked like he had something else he wanted to say, but nothing would come out. Some people brushed by them, causing Mira to look over at the Darmen Exchange office. Yannick wasn’t there, and she wondered what happened to him.

“Good luck,” Chucky said at last. And he meant it.

“Thanks, you too. I’ll see you before the sun comes up the day after tomorrow,” she said.

Chucky watched her turn and walk away. She maneuvered through the crowd and out of the gate. Now that she was gone, he thanked her for being a friend to him, for caring and trying to help him when no one else did. Disappointed, he kicked his foot against the dirt.

***

Long bouts of optimism and despair gripped Mira in turn over the coming days. In some moments, the glory of victory was already a foregone conclusion, but she moped around in others as if she already experienced defeat. She had to laugh at herself and these thoughts that gravitated to the extreme. “Such is the mind,” she would muse to herself.

Still, she couldn’t pull her thoughts away from the mystery of how it would all play out. Listing the variables would never account for all of the possibilities. She tried to anticipate the options, but they were countless. No matter how many plans she prepared, she knew the entire trial would come down to all of those split-second decisions that can never be planned for ahead of time.

Running through the woods, she’d swung by the schoolhouse, half expecting and half hoping to see some of her classmates training. Stillness and silence filled the forest, however. Other than Chucky, she hadn’t seen any of them. She wondered what plans they’d prepared, and if those plans would disrupt her own.

Her jitters increased as that last day dragged on. Jeana urged her to relax, to do something fun to get her mind off of it, but Mira couldn’t stop checking and testing her equipment. The fear that it wouldn’t work perfectly kept her in the basement long after the sun had gone down.

“You’re not going to get enough sleep for tomorrow,” Jeana said.

“If left to myself, I probably wouldn’t sleep at all,” she said, setting everything down so it would be ready in the morning. She still had the static charger on her arm, deciding not to remove it when her mother convinced her to get some sleep.

“Then I’ll happily intervene,” Jeana said to Mira when she finally came up the stairs. She marched her daughter up to her room and watched her get into bed. Her clothes were dirty and oily, but Jeana decided to let it go. Kevin came over from his bedroom across the hall.

“I feel like the whole world hinges on tomorrow,” Mira whispered with her head on the pillow and a blanket over her shoulders. Her parents snickered before trying to comfort her.

“The world will be much the same this time tomorrow as it is right now,” Kevin said.

“Can’t I have it though? Can’t I just have one thing in this life? I want to win so badly. What could ever become of me if I don’t?”

“You can’t see it now because you’re so tired, but you can still be a great success even if you don’t win tomorrow. I would say few things could prevent you from being a success, and tomorrow’s trial is not among them,” Jeana said.

“And, besides,” Kevin added, “do you remember the last time you wanted something like this? Tomorrow’s trial is another wall of clouds, and there’s no telling if you’ll like what’s on the other side.”

“Wait a minute. Did you just contradict me?” Jeana asked. “There’s only one thing she’ll find on the other side, success.”

Kevin puffed out his cheeks and came up with something quick.

“Who’s to say that she can’t have both, success and the unexpected?”

“Ok, Mira. Either way, we have you marked down for success. You better not disappoint us. In the long run, I mean, don’t disappoint us. Don’t worry about tomorrow.”

Mira laughed at her parents’ squabbling.

“Good night,” Kevin said.

“Good night,” Mira said.

Jeana asked her if she was ready, and Mira nodded yes. She leaned in to kiss her on the forehead, and when she pulled back Mira was already fast asleep.

“We’d better make sure we don’t all sleep in and miss it,” Kevin said.

“Yeah, what an awful shame sleeping in is,” Jeana said as they exited the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

Chapter 13: The Final Trial

As night slowly withdrew from the foggy wood, the first rays of day gave light to a gathering assembled on a dewy meadow. Trees, some young and some old, dotted the landscape, and stray bushes cluttered the edge of the forest floor. Chirping crickets and other buzzing composed a subtle hum in the background.

A cloaked man, standing tall, faced the battleground with perseverance and authority. Though the light of dawn came, a thick fabric shielded his eyes from it. The sounds, however, were enough to fill his ear. Each misty breath, like an ocean wave, delivered fear, hope, anticipation, and desire from the soul’s depths. Standing as though only he were present, Corey listened motionlessly and unwaveringly.

But he was not alone. Fifteen students, all wrapped in uniform, formed a line to his left. From Jeremy, who stood closest to Corey, all the way down to Vern, they stared out at the grounds before them. In a moment, they would take to these fields and match their strength against their monumental hope. Though their hearts beat wildly, resolve and determination checked their expressions.

Mira stood seventh in line. The importance of this moment weighed so deeply in the air that she felt she could reach out and grasp it. She wore her static charger on her left arm and held her mechanical bird in the other, but these items did not seem out of place. Several other students brought items with them as well. Standing to her right, Chucky wore his shiny helmet. Dot carried a sack filled with stones. Rowland gripped a large metallic shield. Vern had acquired a potbelly since the fall, but he only carried a snotty rag in his hands. To these students, nothing else existed except the challenge before them.

Their parents and siblings formed a group behind them, anxious about the performances of their children yet completely unable to affect the outcome. Some prayed, some watched attentively, and some little ones dozed on the ground. Jeana and Kevin stood with smiles on their faces. Neither thought they would ever get to experience this. Parents saw this day as the event that brought their children to maturity, and their child absorbed their attention to such a degree that no one else seemed present.

To Corey’s right, stretched out along the grass on a small incline, the students of all nine other grades in Dustfalls Academy sat in rows and waited for the proceedings to start. They stared in awe and wonder, trying to catch a glimpse of their future selves. The students from each grade got a little smaller down the line, all the way to the five-year-olds in first grade, whose teacher tried desperately to keep them all quiet. Many of the teachers present remembered the seniors from previous years and felt invested in today’s outcome. Fortst wandered amongst the crowd, giving approving nods to the parents and mingling quietly.

“Who you think’s gonna win?” he asked Natalie, standing beside her with his arms crossed.

“The most likely winner will be Roselyn. She is the most powerful. No one else could walk out there and put everybody down at once like she can.”

Fortst nodded and silently moved on. A good show would reflect well on his work as a teacher.

The sun peeked between the mountains, shimmering through the fog and warming the air. All eyes looked to Corey to begin, their hearts racing even faster now that the waiting drew near to an end. When he spoke, his words thundered through the air and rang sharp in every ear.

“We will now commence with the Final Trial for Dustfalls Academy, senior year, and bear witness to the one who will forever and henceforth be known as their leader. Said leader will be declared after all others have been forced onto their torsos, and thus eliminated. Candidates will enter the grounds in one-minute intervals. They are free to use any and all means at their disposal. Lastly, once the trial begins, it will not stop until a winner is declared.”

The seniors took a deep breath, embracing the moment that had finally come. All eyes looked forward, each hoping to see their wishes become reality.

“When I speak your name, that’s when you step out onto the field,” Corey said, using a quieter voice that only the students could hear.

Jeremy cast a sidelong glance up at the old man, waiting for his cue. Intensity exuded from his face, a hunger that could not be denied.

“And so it begins, Jeremy,” Corey declared so that all could hear.

Jeremy would spend one minute all alone on the field of battle, but he wasted no time stepping out near the forest’s edge. A few faces glared at him, particularly those he sabotaged from the Team Trial. As he strode out, the buzzing in the trees grew louder and more discomforting. In the same moment that he turned to face the crowd with a malicious smile on his face, a massive swarm of insects descended from the trees and swirled around him. The wave of biting flies, mosquitoes, bees, flying beetles, gnats, wasps, and moths shocked his waiting classmates and left their jaws hanging open.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he said with a menacing laugh. “I’ve hidden the extent of my power from you all these years, and now I’m going to use it to wipe you all out, one by one. You’ll all be beneath me, right where you belong.”

His hateful voice carried over the eerie buzzing. He stood there, waiting for his first victim, while the circling swarm made him nearly invisible. Mary’s face went pale, and she wobbled on her feet. Corey would call her in any second, and then she would face an opponent more daunting than she could have ever imagined.

“Mary,” Corey said, and the girl took a tiny step forward. Her head jerked around, but there was nowhere to run, no way to fight back. All at once, the cloud of insects changed direction and flew at her. Her eyes widened in terror at the approaching swarm.

“I quit! I quit! I quit!” she screamed, diving onto the ground. She covered her face with her hands, but the flying menace returned to Jeremy as soon as she spoke. He laughed loudly.

“Pathetic, but it won’t be any different for the rest of you,” he said.

Mary got up and lurched toward her parents, dragging her arms behind her. She collapsed at their feet, sobbing hysterically.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she cried.

“Who’s next?” Jeremy taunted, the buzzing carried his voice and distorted it into something monstrous.

Will clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He breathed heavily through his nose, causing the grass on the ground to twitch and sway.

“I’m going to pay you back for all of it. All of the torment and all of the pain. I’m giving it all back,” he said through his teeth. Jeremy laughed, and the wave of flies seemed to laugh with him. Only Jeremy’s eyes were visible through the sheet of insects, and the two locked gazes.

“Will,” Corey announced.

Instantly, Will broke from the line of students and ran diagonally toward the edge of the forest. He turned to face the incoming deluge of insects, and he expelled a forceful gust that blew the swarm back into Jeremy’s face, tousling his hair and making him flinch. For a moment, they stayed like that, Will blowing back the flies that tried desperately to get near him. Jeremy dug his heels in and leaned into the wind. But soon the thick cloud of bugs spread out and attacked Will from all directions. Beetles, centipedes, and spiders emerged from the ground and crawled onto his feet.

Seeing things go downhill, Will dashed into the woods and left the crowd’s sight. The insects followed him, as did Jeremy.

“There is no escape!” he hollered.

And just like that they had disappeared into the woods. Most of the buzzing had stopped, and the crowd had nothing left to watch except for the evaporating mist.

“Roselyn,” Corey said.

Calmly and confidently, she began walking straight into the forest. Without rushing and without fear, she left the crowd behind her. A simple melody sprang from her lips, and its sound trailed behind her after she disappeared among the trees.

Mira and Chucky looked at each other. Their time had almost come.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

She looked up at him, strands of his hair poking out from under the helmet, and she saw a sympathetic face.

“Yes, but nerves are good. It means I care,” she said.

“What did you do to your shoes?” he asked, looking down at them.

“So I care enough to look good. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Gerald,” Corey said, and the shifty, nervous boy trotted out into the forest to look for a hiding spot.

“Looks like I’m next,” Chucky said, exhaling. He wiped the oil on his arms onto his chest.

“What’s your plan?” Mira asked.

“I’m thinking about playing dead,” he said, and Mira laughed.

“Well I won’t give you away,” she said.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

They stood still for a moment, trying to listen for any sounds from inside but nothing came. Chucky swallowed and looked back at his parents.

“Chucky,” Corey said.

He jogged out into the woods, and suddenly Mira was next. She looked at Rowland over the spiky, metal shield between them, but he didn’t return her glance. Turning to gaze back at her parents, they gave her a hopeful nod.

Just then, Gerald emerged from the forest. Sulking and with his head low, he dragged his feet back to the crowd. As he walked by Mira, she saw that every inch of his skin was covered in red marks. It looked painful, and it reminded her there would never be a moment without something threatening her. But she was ready for it. Mira pursed her lips and willed Corey to send her in. She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Mira,” Corey bellowed, and she took off running to the right, past the younger students and along the forest’s edge. Jeana and Kevin cheered, even though they got some funny looks from other parents as a result.

Mira ducked into the forest, and sprinted as fast as she could with the bulky and weighty metal bird in her arm. Dodging around the trees, she constantly swiveled her head, scanning the layout of the wood and trying to sense anyone nearby.

She saw a space between the trees with open sky above, and she set her bird down in the middle of it. She then tied a wire around a tree in the next instant, knotting the other end around another tree, forming a perimeter against the area where the other students seemed to go. She flipped on her static charger, which made a low, subtle hum, and she carried the bird’s controller feet in her hands.

She didn’t know how much time she had taken or if anyone watched what she had done, but she knew she had to keep moving, and so she started running through the woods. The forest all around her seemed alive. The sounds of yelling and fighting came from all directions. But she gave up her fear and went on.

One by one, the students ventured out into the unknown. When her time came, Aoi sent Vern an icy glare, so he knew she had it out for him. She stalked through the woods with poise and determination, hoping to run into anyone. Her only guide would be her racing heart.

***

Vern watched Kurt, Sophie, and Dot enter the competition. He kept expecting the defeated to trickle out of the forest, crying and wailing, but each moment brought him disappointment. It became clear after Dennis went in that entering last would not be the free ride he thought it would. A battle raged inside that forest, and there was no way he could avoid it.

Vern heard the sound of his name ripple through the crisp morning air, and he took a few steps in before turning to address the crowd.

“I’ll show you all what a champion is.”

He jogged into the forest, leaving the crowd with nothing to do but sit and wait. He began peeking around trees and sneaking from behind them. He heard Aoi thrashing through the woods off to the right, but he didn’t want to pursue her yet in case someone else could knock her out for him. Instead, he positioned himself along the edge of a raging battle.

Dot and Will dueled in a meadow with overhanging tree branches. Will kept trying to approach her, but she kept forcing him back. She pitched a stone at his kneecap, and watched him blow it down to the ground. She launched one high in the air, through the branches, that disappeared from sight. She then threw one at his stomach, but when he blew it down it hit his kneecap, causing him to fall onto one knee. Just then, a stone fell from the sky and struck his head. He yelped in pain and leaned onto one arm.

Dot wound up for the knockout blow, a shot to the chest that would knock him over. She swung her arm as hard as she could and released the stone. It sailed at him through the air, and then veered right, just missing his shoulder. She gasped out of surprise, and then fled into the trees before Vern could get a lock on her.

“Thanks,” Will said, trying to get up. “But I can barely walk.”

“Well you better do something,” Vern said as he ran by.

***

Kurt quietly crept among the trees, trying to stay low and out of sight. There were only a few of his classmates he felt comfortable approaching one on one, so he bided his time until he saw an opening. Peeking through a fern, he saw Sophie kneeling down to tie her shoe. As long as he approached her from behind, he would have no problem eliminating her.

He prepared to run at her, but with his first step he heard a rustling to his left. Aoi burst from behind a tree, and Kurt changed course and began to sprint away.

“Ha ha, sucker,” Sophie said as Kurt ran by her. He sprinted as fast as he could with Aoi on his tail. “Get tired, get tired,” he kept saying to her. He hurdled over roots and weaved in between trees, hoping to lose her and buy himself more time. She gained on him though, rapidly pumping her legs against the ground.

Hearing some noise in the distance, he swerved to meet it, thinking that anything could happen if other people were involved. They came upon Dennis and Andrew, who circled each other in the hopes of wrestling their other opponent to the ground. Kurt cut right through them, with Aoi just behind. Without slowing her pace, Aoi lowered her shoulder and plowed right into Andrew, sending him flying. He smacked into the ground with a thud, beating his fist against the ground.

Kurt, flying at full pace, looked over his shoulder to check his lead. He didn’t see her, but he felt her when she jumped onto his back. Her weight knocked him forward, and she reached under his arms to pull them back. He fell forward, sliding onto the ground with his face against the dirt.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, climbing off of him.

Sophie sidled away from the clearing and hid behind a few trees while she waited for Aoi to return. Peeking around the side, she looked to see if anyone would follow Kurt into her trap. The sound of twigs snapping under foot came from across the clearing, and then she heard ferns swaying just behind her.

“Ok, so same thing? I think I hear someone coming,” she said to Aoi.

“You’re right about that,” a deep, burly voice said.

Petrified, Sophie turned to see Dennis right behind her. His massive body shut out the forest. He snatched her up in an instant, putting one arm around her waist and the other over her mouth.

“Shhh. Just relax. It’s almost over,” he whispered, slowly lowering her down to the ground.

“Sorry, Soph. That’s the end for you,” he said after he set her down. She looked at him angrily, getting up to return to the start. She walked out into the clearing, and Rowland jumped out to meet her. He started to come at her, but she snapped at him.

“I’m already out,” she said, gesturing behind the trees with her eyes. Rowland nodded silently and turned his sights to the cluster of trees. He swept around to the opposite side and got in close, ready to surprise his foe and use overwhelming force. Sensing someone nearby, Rowland clutched his shield in front of him and jumped out with a loud yell.

His yell went weak when Dennis stood up, ready to face him. He hammered his fists against the shield and knocked Rowland back into the clearing. Rowland steadied himself and pushed hard from behind his shield into Dennis’s next blow. The two clashed again and again, but Dennis’s greater size and weight gave him the advantage. He forced Rowland back against a tree, searching for a way around the shield to send him to the ground.

***

Creeping through the woods, Mira saw Dennis’s thrashing assault. She caught eyes with Rowland. Beads of sweat rolled down around his flushed cheeks. She tensed up, weighing the risk of entering the clearing and getting involved with the deal she had made to help Rowland.

Swallowing hard, she ran into the clearing. While Dennis banged away on the shield Rowland clung helplessly to, Mira snuck up behind him and lowered herself sideways on her hands and knees. Setting the remote controls down, she reached her left arm out to a bare spot on his leg. A tiny blue bolt of electricity shot between them.

“Ouch!” Dennis yelped. He looked back behind him, and in that instant Rowland surged forward. He pushed Dennis back, knocking him against Mira’s side, and causing him to fall on his back. Mira quickly got to her feet and started to run off. She turned back to look at Rowland.

“Even,” she said, and he nodded back. They both disappeared into the forest, heading in separate directions. Mira hustled around the trees and through the leaves, catching a bug in her hand. She stopped cold and began to turn back when a voice startled her.

“I’m surprised you made it this far. At least you can say you weren’t last this time,” Vern said, stepping around from behind a tree in front of her. Mira kept strolling toward him.

“But now it’s all over. I knew I’d find you if I just waited long enough.”

“Well you waited too long, because I’m already out,” she snapped back. Vern cleared his throat and wiped his nose.

“Of course you are. We both knew those showy speeches and clever facts would never get you to the end. It was never a question,” he said, sticking his nose up at her.

“I guess the only question left is if you make it to the end,” she said, sticking her finger out and zapping him in the chest as she walked by. “It might help if you have a fly swatter.”

She held out the dead fly to him, strolling into the brush while Vern listened for buzzing. Careful not to arouse his suspicion, Mira tiptoed away and then broke into a full run. She wiped her brow out of relief. Vern swatted with his hands at a fly in front of him. He ran away at full speed as the buzzing swarm moved toward him.

***

Jeremy swept into the area with his army of flying beasts. Unable to get them to quiet down, everyone was able to steer clear of him. Still, he took comfort in knowing that sooner or later they would have to come to him. He moved close to a tree and let the circling hordes seal him off from the outside.

He picked at the bark on the tree and waited, watching the shifting wall around him spin by. Humming along with the buzzing, he leaned against the tree and began to relax a little. The flies spun round and round to the same tune, and he tried to see if they went faster or slower along with the sound, but it was impossible to tell.

A smile came to his face, and that smile grew as the wall of flies thinned and parted. Jeremy saw a beautiful face through it, and his eyes glossed over because of it. Blonde curls that hung down around her ears became visible, making his heart ache. The flies dispersed completely, but Jeremy didn’t move or change his dazed expression. He just kept his eyes on Roselyn’s lips and the simple melody that his ears guzzled.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she replied. “If you want me to love you back, there’s just one thing you need to do. Lie down on the ground.”

Jeremy nodded his head. His heart felt so full that it pulled him down to the earth. Never taking his eyes off of her, he sank down and sprawled out onto his back, but Roselyn had already started to walk away. She paused briefly when Jeremy let out a painful scream, but she didn’t wait long.

***

Elsewhere, Vern made it to a clearing surrounded by a ring of young trees. He kept his eyes peeled on one in particular, waiting to see thin strands of black hair peeking out of one side. Aoi leapt from one tree to another, and Vern tried to suck her in so he could drop her on her stomach. He extended his hand, but she was too fast. She rotated from one to the next, and Vern and the tree would momentarily pull toward each other, a sudden jerk as if in a dance.

He listened to her angry taunts and heavy breathing. She shouted at him as she skipped back and forth, looking for an opening.

“Can’t catch me! You’re going to eat dirt!”

He tried to ignore her, but the irritation swelled up inside of him.

“Just come out into the open already! We know how this is going to end, Aoi, the same way it has since we were little.”

His words infuriated her. Holding the tree, she looked at him with the kind of mindless, throbbing wrath that can only be found in nightmares.

“You can’t take this from me!” she wailed at the top of her lungs as the tree gave way and she pushed it over. Vern saw the leaves and branches topple over and grow large above him. He took a few startled steps back and then jumped to the side. It crashed to the ground, just missing him.

Running for the trees on the other side, Vern saw Will in the distance. He still hobbled as he made it to the edge of the clearing.

“We can take her out together!” he shouted at Vern.

“Ok,” Vern said, but he didn’t stop running. He cruised right past Will and into the woods. Will’s heart skipped a beat and he turned his head back to see Aoi swooping around the fallen tree. It all came down to this, sink or swim. He took a deep breath and spouted his wind against his attacker.

Aoi’s hair waved in all directions. She closed her eyes and leaned into the massive gust of air. Her progress slowed and she took tiny steps that dug into the ground. Her clothing rippled, and for a moment she stopped moving completely. But she ducked down and inched closer through the hurricane-force wind. Will’s face grew red as he blew with all of the air in his lungs. Suddenly, he stopped.

Aoi fell onto her hands a few feet away, and Will leapt at her. She regained her bearings quickly and gripped him by the waist. Snatching his sides in her arms, she tossed him up and behind her. He smacked into the ground, sighed with disgust, and then got up to return to Corey.

***

Rowland snuck through the forest with stealth and style. He had a good idea that only a handful remained, and so he had to be extra careful to maintain an advantage. Passing underneath tree branches with flowers and new leaves, the sun trickled down on him. His shield reflected some of the sunlight, and Vern saw the unusual light flitting around the trees. Soon he knew where it came from, and he started sneaking closer.

Staying low to the ground, Rowland felt a sudden tug on his shield. It wanted to drift away, and he flexed his arm to keep hold of it. Though he didn’t need to look to know the reason why, he did.

“Come on, Vern, do you really want to lose me this early? I could help you.”

“We’re almost at the end…for you at least.”

The shield dragged Rowland closer to Vern, but he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. He let go of the shield and ran behind it as it flew. Vern let it drop to the ground, readying himself to lock arms with Rowland, who was too close to pull in. Rowland grabbed hold of his hand and swung him around off of his feet. He let go, expecting to see Vern fall flat on the ground, but he instead used his gravitational force on a tree, which drew him in and gave him time to steady himself.

Vern landed on his feet and turned back to Rowland, now a good distance away. Rowland went for his shield, but Vern caught him first. Rowland lost touch with the ground, and he fell through the air toward Vern. A second later, when Rowland was upside down, Vern dropped him, but he held himself up by his hands, his feet straight up in the air. Vern dove forward to tackle him, grabbing his midsection and knocking him flat on the ground.

“You’re on your own now,” Rowland said, getting up.

Vern nodded, and he knew there could be no more running. The time for waiting had ended and the time to stand up and prove himself had begun. She heard shouting somewhere far off to the right, and this time he ran right for them

***.

Far to the left, Mira watched as the battle between Vern and Rowland unfolded. Concealed within a hanging branch, she peeked through the leaves and saw Vern drill his shoulder into Rowland’s stomach. The impact made her flinch. She tried to do a quick count of who was left on her fingers, but she couldn’t know exactly. There seemed to be so few, and yet she was somehow among them.

She came out from her hiding place to follow in Vern’s direction, but her ears caught something faint behind her. When she couldn’t hear it anymore, she turned around to see where it came from.

Slowly but surely, Roselyn became visible as she wound around the thick tree trunks. Her lips mouthed a beautiful song and the rest of her moved with a calm, relaxed air. Mira stood still, and Roselyn walked directly in front of her. They stood face to face and looked into each other’s eyes. A mesmerizing, enchanting sound emanated from her lungs.

“Aren’t you tired, Mira? Wouldn’t it be so nice to fall asleep right here on the ground?”

Mira watched her lips move, but she couldn’t hear anything. She responded by brushing her hair back over her ear, revealing an earplug that sat snuggly inside. The only surprise Roselyn displayed was a few rapid blinks, and then she understood completely. She nodded her head resolutely.

“You’ve been our leader all along,” she said.

Mira didn’t know what she would do next, if she would have to chase her, but Roselyn took a step back and settled herself down with her back to the ground. Mira took out her earplugs and put them back in her pocket. She wanted to say something to Roselyn, to apologize. She waited a moment for the right words to come, but she saw something in the forest and knew the opportunity had passed.

The smallest movement, maybe even just the swaying of a branch, startled her thoroughly. Without waiting another second, Mira took off running in a diagonal direction. While pumping the remote controls in her hands, she pressed one of the buttons. A second later, she heard rustling brush off to her right and saw Aoi running to intercept.

Cruising through the forest as fast as her legs could carry her, Mira begged and pleaded in her mind for a chance to make it. Chasing behind, Aoi seemed to cut through the forest like a knife. She reeled in her prey steadily.

They swept down a small hill. Mira turned to the left. They sprinted so fast that she couldn’t hear and could barely see. But Aoi still managed to gain on her. Mira knew looking back would only slow her down, so she kept her eyes forward, though she could feel Aoi closing in.

Aoi, moving closer with every step, prepared to make the catch. She reached out her hand for Mira, ready to pull her down in one move. She stared at her fingers as they inched nearer, her legs spinning underneath her. She stretched her arm out to grip her shoulder, and a blue bolt zapped her finger, shocking her into breaking her stride.

“Oww!” Aoi said.

“Actually, it’s pronounced “Mira!” she laughed, pulling away.

Aoi growled and rushed to catch up, but Mira could already see her destination. They sprinted onward toward a clearing. Aoi pulled closer to Mira again, determined to let nothing stop her from taking her down.

They approached the clearing, and Mira could see what she was running for. She spun around a tree and then passed over her trip wire. A moment later, Aoi’s foot landed squarely on it, snapping it. Mira ran into the clearing, her heart pounding. Arms outstretched, she dove forward. The magnets on the feet she held connected with those on her hawk’s legs, pulling her up into the air.

Aoi jumped but Mira’s dangling legs were just out of reach. This spectacular escape angered her, but she quickly found another way. She sprinted to the edge of the clearing and hopped up into the branches of a tall pine tree. Despite the prickly bark and the sap, she raced up the tree to catch up with Mira, who did not ascend with great speed.

High above the ground, Aoi could see Mira through the branches. She followed a thick, sturdy looking one out from the trunk. Holding onto another branch for support, she saw Mira and her mechanical contraption out in front of her. She could safely grab hold of her feet and pull her down without coming close to the spinning blades. Mira looked over her shoulder to see Aoi on the ledge. The terror that rushed into her eyes made Aoi smile.

Aoi leapt from the branch, sailed through the air, and caught hold of Mira’s foot. The bird continued to rise, however, and the pair soon became visible to the masses assembled on the lawn. A roar of gasps and chatter rumbled through the crowd.

Aoi hung on just below with the ground far below them, forcing Mira to kick at her free rider, trying to knock her off.

“Let go of my shoe!”

“You’re coming down with me!”

Mira kicked at the hands around her ankle with the toe of her other shoe. Her fingers wouldn’t budge. She tried to lift Aoi up with the leg she held and began kicking at her arms. She swung back and forth as Aoi desperately tried to hold on. Mira stomped on the top of her head, and soon her hands came loose. She slipped down until she lost touch with the tip of her shoe. Gravity pulled her back down, while she spiraled and spun.

Aoi’s open hand met the ground first and then the rest of her capsized. The only things that kept her body from touching the ground were her extended arm and the tips of her toes. She got to her feet and looked up at Mira, who flew out of range of any possible approach. It was unbelievable though, and Aoi couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up and wonder at it.

Mira stared down at the ground below her in disbelief that Aoi had overcome the fall both without injury and without losing the competition. It was incredible. Her mind raced for a new strategy, but nothing came. She couldn’t imagine a scenario in which she beat Aoi.

Staring down, Mira saw something curious streak across the ground. It swept through the grass at blinding speeds. In a second, it slid under Aoi, continued, and disappeared out of sight. Aoi, her legs completely knocked out from under her, felt herself falling onto her back. There was only one thing she could do before she hit the ground—scream.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

She smacked into the ground, covered her face, and curled into a ball. Mira couldn’t hold back a broad smile.

“Chucky! Yes!” she shouted, cheering and hollering for him. She didn’t know where he went or who could hear her, but she took deep satisfaction and found a great deal of courage in Chucky’s long-lasting survival. More than that, Aoi had tormented him all year, and she knew how much it meant to him to get back at her.

Then she heard a loud clink from overhead, and the chick rocked violently back and forth. Along with the smile on her face, she saw a rock dropping through the air. By the time she stabilized herself, another rock struck the spinning propeller. She looked down from her perch among the treetops to see Dot down on the ground below.

Just when Mira thought the rocks wouldn’t be able to damage the spinning blades, one hit the knuckles of her left hand, forcing her to let go and dangle from only one arm. She tried to grab hold of the other handle again, but she missed and looked down at the distance she would fall. She doubted she could handle it as gracefully as Aoi.

“Please don’t! I’ll fall!” she shouted down to Dot.

“That’s the point,” Dot shouted back.

She reached into her bag and pulled out one of the few remaining stones. She felt its smooth surface and oval shape with her fingers while she waited for Mira to twist and give her a clear shot at the other hand.

Dot leaned back and brought her hand behind her head for the throw. As she snapped it forward, Dot floated off of her feet and into the air. She released the stone and it flew straight up. In another second, Dot dropped onto her back while she watched the rising stone. It rocketed upward, and Mira watched it climb up in front of her. It hung in the air, right at eye level, and then gravity pulled it back down. Mira took a deep, relieved breath before swinging her arm up and catching the other handle.

“I couldn’t let you do that,” Vern said to Dot as he stepped into the clearing. “I’ll send her home myself. It has to be me.”

Dot saw the hungry look in his eyes and heard his tense heaving. There was nothing for her to be disappointed about; she had surpassed her wildest expectations. Without a word, she walked back to the forest’s edge.

Vern took a few steps out into the clearing. He gazed up at Mira, hanging in the air above him. He had to laugh at himself for being fooled earlier. But right now she looked like an apple waiting to be plucked.

“You delayed the inevitable as long as you could. But there’s nowhere to run and no way to talk yourself out of it this time. You’ve got to go through me. Now are you going to come down here so we can finish this or what?”

“Make me!” she shouted.

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry, I will. It’s funny how it all came down to this, the same as the Tournament Trial at the beginning of the year. Do you remember that? You ran home crying and I went on to win it all. Maybe you’ll handle yourself a little better, but the result will be the same. Nothing’s changed, Mira. Nothing.”

Vern reached his hand up into the sky at the sun. Mira felt a tug downward, as if she had Aoi attached her legs. She felt the weight tire her screaming arms and her heart pounded through her chest. Her body flushed with emotion, making it feel like she couldn’t breathe. She held down a button with her forefinger, but the bird’s wings spun as fast as they could. Still, she saw the trees rise as she slowly descended.

Mira searched through the woods with her eyes. Her head jerked back and forth until she spotted a streak sliding down a hill. It approached Vern from behind at break-neck speeds, and the hope that it would all be over soon sprung up inside her.

The weight pulling her down suddenly disappeared. Though Vern’s arm remained raised high, she began to climb back up to the treetops. Something was wrong, and she wanted to shout to Chucky, but it was too late. He careened into the clearing, hurtling at Vern’s legs. But Vern jumped out of the way in time and brought that hand down quickly enough to tap Chucky on the back.

Vern laughed as Chucky sailed out of sight. He wiped his hand on his pants and looked back up at Mira.

“Guess you’re not the only one who knows how to trick someone,” he said.

“Congratulations,” Mira replied. “I think second place will suit you.”

Vern laughed.

“Second place? You can’t touch me. And you are thirty feet away from hitting rock bottom. There’s nothing you can do!”

Chucky continued skimming along the forest floor until he reached the edge of the forest and the waiting crowd. As soon as they saw him, and they knew that the battle had come down to the final two, all of his classmates, the other students, the teachers, and the parents raced into the forest to watch with Chucky leading the way.

Only Corey remained on the glade by the forest edge. He held a curious expression and an attentive ear, waiting to hear if the impossible could be done. The crowd swept along the edges of the clearing, entranced by the miraculous spectacle before them.

Rays of sunlight shone down through the clouds on the two remaining combatants. Vern, straining his arms in the air, looked to be holding up a colossal weight. Mira, dangling high above, held on for dear life as she slowly sank down. One could almost see the invisible rope, pulled as taut as can be, linking them together.

“Come to me,” Vern repeated, desiring that moment when he could put an end to this.

Mira kept her eyes on the ground, judging the distance, though she looked pained and depleted. He stood directly beneath her, dragging her down. The ground became clearer and the tree branches around her became thicker. The crowd knew they were witnessing the end, and they couldn’t look away.

Scrunching the muscles in her face, Mira banged her feet together. She smashed the heels of her shoes against each other as hard as she could. She cracked them, and a cloud of yellow pollen spilled out below. It sank quickly, blanketing Vern’s hands, face, and body. Shock and concern took to Vern’s face, but his heavy breathing continued.

While Mira hung above him, just out of reach, he inhaled deeply and unleashed a massive sneeze, doubling him over. In that instant, Mira twisted her arms to unlock the magnets and dropped feet first onto Vern’s back, knocking him flat against the ground as she hopped off.

“WHAT?” she screamed, collapsing to her knees in disbelief. Her hands shook before her eyes. The entire crowd erupted and sprang forth in an instant. The chick still flying high overhead, they surrounded her and lifted her up, cheering and hollering.

“It’s a Mira-cle!” Kevin said.

“Oh, how could you say that?” Jeana said, hitting her husband on the arm.

They scrambled to get closer to Mira, and she scrambled to get closer to them, barely able to touch their outstretched hands for all the people. But they were there for her.

Though he couldn’t be heard, Corey clapped solemnly in his solitude. The crowd carried Mira through the woods and deposited her at his feet. She got up, catching eyes with her classmates who had assembled around her. Like herself, Vern too had burst into tears. But he composed himself as best he could. Mira didn’t know how to look at them or how they were looking at her. But she turned to Corey, taking comfort knowing how she looked would play no part at all with him.

“Mira Ipswich,” he bellowed, causing all others to fall silent. “You have been victorious. Leader of this graduating class of Dustfalls Academy is a position that henceforth rightfully belongs to you. May you execute it with wisdom, honor, and valor.”

Corey finished speaking, and Mira looked at the eyes cast upon her. They held wonder and praise, which pleased her, but she also saw signs of doubt and worry now that the reality had taken hold.

“But how will she ever survive The Shadowing?” one voice said.

She tried to stand tall and let her strength show through her, but in truth she did not know what would happen. The crowd around her began to break up. Parents began to look for their children. The young students walked back to town in small groups. Corey and his assistant, Natalie, retired. Mira tried to listen to the chatter springing up to get an idea of what people were thinking, but her classmates quickly began vying for her attention.

“Wow, I can’t believe you did it,” Mary said.

“Congratulations,” Will said. “You outsmarted the lot of us.”

A handful of them still crowded around, hugging her and patting her on the back. Mira wore a big, healthy smile. The payoff for her hard work delighted her. She turned her head to see Chucky standing there with the silver helmet in his hand. He looked as happy as if he had won.

“You were amazing,” she said. “I didn’t see you for so long. I didn’t know what happened.”

“I kept an eye on your egg for you. Couldn’t let anybody mess up your plans.”

She put her arm around him and gave him a hug. Over his shoulder, she saw Fortst waiting, bashfully, for a chance to speak to her. Chucky seemed to notice her attention was elsewhere, and he stepped aside.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like that,” he said, impressed and even moved. “You put on quite a show. I don’t think there’s anybody who could say you didn’t earn it.”

“Thank you. Thank you, everybody. A lot of things could have happened today, but this is how it turned out. And anything could happen from here, but I think we’ll be ok as long as we stick together.”

Mira looked at the group before her, and she noticed that some of her classmates were not listening to her. A few were talking to their parents or sitting on the grass. She wondered if they were bitter about their loss or if they were unhappy she had won. But even Vern and Aoi gave her their attention.

After she finished speaking, she heard somebody mention how hungry they were, and it reminded Mira of how tired and hungry she felt. Somehow the morning had passed and the afternoon was well underway. Though most of the people had left, Jeana and Kevin remained. They waited patiently for Mira to finish speaking with her classmates, stopping themselves from digging into the sandwiches they’d brought.

When it came time for Mira to meet them, she felt the flush of joy and excitement all over again. Her parents greeted her with a warm embrace, and Kevin brushed her hair back and cupped his hand around his daughter’s cheek.

“We’re very proud of you,” they said.

They sat down to a picnic lunch along with the other students and their parents. Mira told them about everything they didn’t see, but she was careful not to insult or demean anyone with her story. Those around her listened and chimed in at various parts. Aoi mentioned that she couldn’t believe she had jumped from a tree and soared in the air. Most were able to laugh about what happened, even if they wished they had done better.

“I actually slipped on a root and almost put myself out within the first minute,” Vern laughed before sneezing again.

After she had finished her sandwich and spent some time relaxing on the blanket, Mira turned to her parents with a satisfied look.

“Ok, I’m ready to go home now,” she said.

“Oh, no. You won’t be going home at all tonight,” Jeana countered.

Chapter 14: The Synthesis

“What? Why not?” Mira asked.

“Because you’ve got your graduation ceremony tonight. You can’t miss it. It’s very important, especially for you since you won. We’ll see you tomorrow though.”

“You can just fly home whenever the sun comes up,” Kevin said. Even though she knew he was joking, Mira’s disappointment prevented her from responding in kind.

“No, I can’t. The batteries are dead.”

Kevin and Jeana started to pack up the blanket and the containers as they prepared to leave. Mira didn’t want them to go unless she went with them. The other parents followed suit, and soon they waved goodbye and started back to town. Mira saw that this didn’t bother her classmates at all, but Mira wanted her parents to be a part of her celebration. So her eyes welled up with tears when they finally announced their departure.

“Thank you for being here today. I love you,” she said when they hugged her.

She watched them take to the path back home and disappear among its curves. In another moment, all of the parents had gone, and only the fifteen students and their teacher remained on the grassy glade.

“So what is this ceremony,” Mira asked Fortst and the other students.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Rowland said. “No one who goes through it is supposed to talk about it. Only thing I know for sure is its name, The Synthesis.”

“What are we supposed to do now?” she asked.

“Sit tight and wait for Corey to return,” Fortst said, cloaked in his long trench coat and sitting against a tree.

“All my life I’ve only ever seen Corey on Final Trial day, so it must be a big deal,” Aoi said.

“One more question. What do we do tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow The Shadowing will begin. We each go our separate ways in search of a mentor to guide us, and we become their shadow,” Will said.

“Wait, “synthesis” means coming together, so we come together only to separate right after? That doesn’t make sense,” Mira said.

“If it doesn’t make sense then at least it fits in with everything else we do,” Will said, shrugging.

“How does it work, finding a mentor? Who will be my mentor?” Mira asked.

“You find someone who has a similar power as yours. Like Roselyn is going to be Corey’s shadow, because he controls sound and her power comes through her voice. Do you see how that works?”

“It’s going to be awesome!” Roselyn interjected.

“Some of us have had these arrangements for years. You are a special case, so I have no idea what you’re going to do,” Will said.

Mira didn’t know either, and this seemed like just one more thing she would have trouble figuring out because she was different. She didn’t want to let her friends down, so she would have to be good at it, whatever it was.

The sun hung low in the sky and already had an orange tint. Some of the students slept on the grass, others played silly games and talked to pass the time. Like Fortst, Mira surveyed them from a nearby tree. She tried to think of what it meant to be a leader. She tried to figure out what she was supposed to do. It seemed difficult and tricky. None of the answers she thought of seemed exactly right.

The sound of crickets and chirping birds echoed through the dusky sky. The temperature cooled, and the students started a small fire. A few of Corey’s men appeared with heavy logs in their arms. They dumped them in an open space on the ground, and then asked Mira for help before going back for more.

“Me? Sure,” she said, catching up with them. They walked to a small lumberyard, where an imposing stack waited to be carried. Thinking it would take forever, Mira hefted a log and wrestled with it all the way back. She dropped it on the ground and went back for more, but this time Vern and a few others followed her. They each deposited a log on the pile, and this time the rest of the students got up to help.

They all grabbed logs from the pile, and it only took a few trips for the stack to be completely moved to the pile in the glade. Corey’s men adjusted it a little, standing the logs on end and building them up into a spire. By the time they finished, no light from the sun remained. Instead fifteen torches formed a semi-circle around the center, but only one on the end had been lit.

“I think it’s going to begin. Each of you get to a torch,” Fortst whispered, pointing Mira to the one on the end. She stood by the pole under the light of the flame. Everyone could see her, but she couldn’t see anything. Hushed voices murmured around her, and Mira felt as nervous as she did before the Final Trial.

The voices stopped suddenly, and only a slight breeze swept into their ears. Mira looked into the darkness, thinking she saw something. The pitch black seemed darker, and she guessed that Corey had come. Knowing that the only light shone on her, she maintained her poise and kept silent.

A bass sound, low but deep, charged into their ears. They looked to that spot in the darkness like it would birth the coming sun. The low rumbling grew louder and transformed into a hymn. A meditative sound of hope and faith rose up to the web, and each of the fifteen students felt compelled to join in. The sound echoed among them and amplified until a single note, solemn and true, washed over them all.

They held the note until their lungs expelled the last ounce of breath. Though silence resumed, the space they inhabited felt less lonely and less fearful. They inhaled the clean, refreshing air, and waited for Corey to proceed. When he spoke, they all felt in their hearts that they could see him. Though no light shone on him, they could see the cloak, the bandage, and the prickly, grizzled face in their minds.

“The end of the beginning. You’ve made it this far despite pain, fatigue, stress, and sorrow. And this road has not been easy. At times, your bodies have been injured, your minds have been confused, and your spirits have been dampened. What’s more, you have long inflicted these miseries on each other. Ruthlessly, selfishly, and heartlessly, you have subjected each other to the greatest torments at your disposal. And it’s only natural that grudges and grievances developed as a result.

“This ceremony is “The Synthesis,” when we look upon those experiences and the feelings they spawned with mature eyes. We will come to a new understanding of their purpose, and that will allow forgiveness to take root. Only then can you go out into a world that knows nothing of justice and offers little sympathy for the weak.

“I invite you to think for a moment about your greatest failure. These memories never lie far from the surface, but bring it up and let it stay with you here in the night. Remember that moment when everything collapsed around you and everything you wanted slipped away. Who stood over you triumphantly? Who conquered you, even if just for that instant? No doubt that person is here tonight. Whoever it was, he or she was the best teacher of the world that you could ever imagine. To face a loss, to know defeat, and to feel the stinging anguish of regret, these are what await you beyond. Without knowing it, you have all worked tirelessly for each other’s benefit.”

Under the flame, Mira thought back to her helpless and pitiful loss to Vern. She couldn’t see him, but she wondered if he thought about her too, or how many others experienced their greatest defeat on this day.

“You should thank that person for the service they did you. Though you were not the winner, that lesson will prove to be a much greater prize. Search that person out and thank them now.”

Surprised by the command, Mira started to venture into the darkness. The sound of feet shuffling through the grass and nervous chatter came nearer though, and so she stayed near the flame. Faces became visible, and they began to look for each other.

“Thank you,” one voice said, and then another, and then it came from everywhere.

“Remember that time when we were seven? Thank you.”

Mira saw Aoi thank Chucky, and then Roselyn popped into view.

“Thank you,” she demurred. “You taught me that I can’t just rely on my gift.”

Mira smiled and nodded at her before seeing Vern in the distance. They caught eyes and walked toward each other.

“Thank you,” they said at the same time. The chatter died down, and Mira heard her classmates shuffle away.

“Good,” Corey resumed. “Remember this and realize you have always had each other’s best interest at heart, even if your mind carried something else entirely. The bonds between you must be unshakeable, because someday they may be the only thing you have left. Now, your time as a student of this academy has come to an end, and I release you to find a mentor for personal study before joining with the great forces of our land to defend our freedom. Take up your torches.”

Corey instructed them to circle around the tower and light their torches from Mira’s. As each student approached her, and they locked eyes for a moment, they were to say, “By my burning spirit, I exist in light.”

The glowing embers fanned out and formed a ring. Holding their torches out in front, they felt the heat on their skin. Each face carried depth and promise with the yellow and orange tones.

“Fire is just like water. If you put two drops of water together, they join in a way that makes it impossible to tell they had ever been separate. And fire is no different. On my command, move inward and lose your flame to the indistinguishing blaze, and in so doing cast off your selfishness and your pride!”

Following his instructions, each student took a step forward at the same time. After each step, they chanted, “When my light is gone, all that remains is shadow.” They took several steps in, letting the words echo through their ears and minds, but then Corey released an unexpected, alarmed gasp and stared off into the night.

“Quickly now, throw your torches in!” he ordered.

Confused, the students did as he bid them. Without chanting or emotion, they tossed their torches on the spire. They expected Corey to say something, and an ill feeling sank into their stomachs when he did not. It seemed to Mira that no one would say anything if she did not.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.

An anxious tension replaced the warm, communal feeling so suddenly. As the logs ignited and the bonfire grew, the students stood without purpose or thought. Fortst got up and joined the group, trying to figure out what was the matter. Corey’s frozen pose gave way to a terrifying roar, straining the veins in his neck.

Everyone else covered their ears and watched any last delusions that things were ok vanish into the night.

“We are not alone,” Corey said before discharging another ear-splitting growl. But while his roar seemed like a warning, it was actually a signal, and soon the sound of cracking branches and panting shattered their solitude. Something erupted from the dense brush and spilled out onto the ground. Its legs and arms thrashed voraciously to rebound it onto its feet.

The group shied away from the rapid intruder. Only when it came within range of the fire’s light did Mira recognize Yannick, who had been stripped of his metal and ran like a deranged lunatic. Breathless and cut up, his legs gave out in front of Corey, leaving him to clutch the robes with his filthy hands and sputter between hyperventilating breaths.

“Followed them…after Mira…had to warn…Cloud Cottage.”

He coughed and spat, whimpering and shaking.

“What are you trying to say?” Corey asked. “I can’t understand you.”

“I understood well enough,” Fortst said, reaching into his trench coat and removing a thick, rusty tube. Those around him backed away as he held it firmly in his hands.

“My parents!” Mira said. “ I have to help them!”

But before she could take a single step, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Vern standing in front of the rest of the class.

“We have to help them,” he said.

“Come along now. I’ve saved my best lesson for last!” Fortst said, measuring his dark tone with an unmistakable pleasure.

As the group sprinted out of sight, Corey’s words raced past them back into town.

“Natalie, sound the alarm. Get everybody inside the outpost, and I’m going to need some help out here. It’s finally happening.”

The man at his feet had passed out, and the logs in the bonfire burned thin like raw bones.

Mira pushed herself forward along the moonlit forest paths with the web glowing overhead. The others struggled to keep up and wondered at the speed of her nervous sprinting. But she had learned every rock and root on those trails in the woods behind her house. She couldn’t feel anything but the wish to find her parents, and she ran on it.

She swallowed the hill and all of a sudden she was there, cresting behind the garden with the back of the house beyond. Putting her hands on her knees to catch her breath, she stalled because she hadn’t thought about what to do next. Feet rushed up behind her, and they waited as well.

Though the lights in the house were off, the sound of heavy banging, crashing, and yelling rippled through the air. Though they couldn’t see anything moving, the air carried a scent that was very much alive. Fortst made it up the hill, but he did not stop like the others. He charged at the house as if an army of millions followed behind.

“Did you bring your notebooks?” he hollered before cocking back his weapon and charging through the glass doors. The glass shattered and fell to the ground.

“What do we do?” Will asked Mira.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’re in charge now. You have to tell us,” he said.

“I don’t know. Um, let me think. Ok, Mary, how many of them are there, and where are they, and where are my parents?”

Mary shook her hands as if they were wet and sucked her teeth.

“Your parents are in their room. I think they’ve walled themselves in. There are a couple of them upstairs and a few downstairs and several around the house, on it, and out in front near the road. Probably a dozen total.”

“Ok, ok, that’s great. Do you have any ideas on which ones can do what? I think we’ll have to split into two, half going in through the back and half working to the front door from each side of the house,” Mira said.

“Ok, but there is someone in the forest on this side of the house. He can do something…it’s like geometry. I feel shapes. There are too many to tell clearly, and I need more time. But there is one inside the house who changes his skin,” Mary said.

“Math?” Aoi chuckled. “I’ll go let him know he’s in the wrong line of work.”

“Ok,” Mira said. “Will, Rowland, Dot, and Jeremy, go with her on this near side. Vern, Roselyn, Mary, Chucky, and I will approach the back of the house, and the rest go around on the far side. Stick together, be careful, and don’t wait to find out what they’ll do to you.”

Everyone nodded and the groups split up. A few struggled to catch up with Aoi who raced along the tree line, jumping in as soon as she heard a noise.

Mira and her group left the safety of the trees to approach the gaping hole Fortst had left, but she had to continuously look back and urge the third group along. Taking her precautions to heart, they tiptoed around to the far side.

Running through the garden toward the house, something hit Chucky in the shoulder, knocking him to the side. Another plop hit the ground just near them.

“There’s someone on the roof,” Mary said.

“I think it was a shingle,” Chucky said, holding his shoulder.

“I got him,” Vern said. Stepping forward, he motioned to the man standing on the roof. Sidestepping the shingles he flung, Vern tried to pull him down. The man on the roof jerked forward, slid down in an avalanche of shingles, and dropped onto the ground. He crawled through the shattered glass door and disappeared within the house.

***

Aoi had expected to see some superhuman monster, but instead she saw only a man hiding behind a tree. He saw her too, but he didn’t withdraw his face. She could even see that he had brown eyes.

“You should’ve stayed in school,” she taunted. He stepped out from behind the tree, and Aoi could see a yellow insignia that looked like a sun and a cloud on his black uniform. Not wanting to waste too much time on this weakling, Aoi charged at him and swung for his face. He leaned back about two inches and Aoi’s punch missed him completely. Her fist passed across his face and carried her off to the side.

Angry that she had missed, she threw another punch at his stomach, but he slapped it away. Again and again, she tried to punch him, but he moved just far enough out of the way to avoid it. Growling, she grabbed a large branch that lay on the ground and swung it at him. He hopped in between the fork in the branches.

Aoi spun and kicked at him, but he curled around the kick and sent the heel of his foot behind her other knee, knocking her to the ground. But before she could complain that this was the second time she had fallen today, she felt his hands twist her ankle and his foot press into her throat.

She tried to yell for help, but little came out. She struggled to breath through her nose with her face smushed into the ground. She felt something crawl on her hip and cringed. A hairy wood spider crawled over her onto the man’s side and skittered up near his shoulder. As soon as it hit the skin on his neck, it took a big bite. The man screamed and Aoi got out from under him. She kicked him while he writhed on the ground, sending him rolling down the hill.

Aoi saw Jeremy’s patronizing look when she emerged from the forest and stuck her tongue out at him. They snuck through the narrow area along the side of the house. Looking quickly through the window, they couldn’t see anything. Rowland peeked around the side, and he could see two enemies standing in the road and one on the porch.

“Is that guy holding a wheel?” he whispered.

“I think he is,” Will said, craning his neck. “Dummy thinks he’s driving a boat or something.”

Aoi yanked on their clothes and pulled them back behind the side of the house.

“Ok, this should be easy. How about Jeremy distracts them and then we all run out and stomp them?”

Everyone consented, and soon moths and mosquitoes were fluttering around the enemies’ heads. Aoi and the others listened to the sound of clapping in the air.

“Are you ready?” they said to each other, excited and smiling. Altogether, they poured out of their hiding place and hurled themselves onward with whoops and hollers. The man with the wheel in his hands, looking out from the front steps, watched them emerge onto the lawn. A mean-looking girl veered at him, and he twisted the wheel.

In a second, all five of them dropped to the ground and took all manner of strange positions as they tried desperately and unsuccessfully to get to their feet. Their war cries turned into painful moans. The drop of liquid that everyone has in their eardrum, which gives a sense of which way is up and which way is down, swished about frantically. The man with the wheel looked down at them. His victims were dizzy to the point of complete ineptitude.

“Tie them up,” he said.

***

Back behind the house, Mira approached the sliding glass door with a despair she never thought she would experience upon entering her own home. The light of a full moon and a twinkling array of stars helped them look inside, but the place looked trashed and vacant. The shelves had been emptied onto the floor with broken glass and dishware. Mira didn’t want to go inside. Seeing her home like this caused such deep pain. She was about to swallow her fear and step through when a sudden crash came from her right.

A man flew through what had been the bathroom window, clearing the house by several feet, and smacked into the ground. He quickly flipped to his feet, turned, and saw the group about to enter. Mira knew it when he recognized her, and something ugly and vicious came over him.

He ran at her, and she backed up, thinking a little shock would not deter him. He fell forward over his feet, however, as Vern pulled him in, and then Chucky stepped in to put all of his weight behind a crushing blow that landed as the intruder’s momentum turned him right-side up. The girls cringed at the impact and looked away, but the sound of the body dropping onto the ground penetrated their ears.

“He’s sleeping,” Chucky reassured them, and he entered the house with Vern. The girls followed them in to the sound of thumping through the ceiling. They tiptoed around the wall, decorations and pieces of broken furniture strewn about on the floor. Mira noticed the door to the basement had been shut, and she tried to remember if she had shut it or not.

Chucky led the way, with a surge of adrenaline. Just as he turned to go up the stairs, a large and brutish figure popped out, causing Chucky to stumble back and smear oil all over the wall as he tried to regain his balance.

“Looks like they’re cooking something up here,” Fortst said, waving them on. “Let’s hurry.”

They all sighed with relief at the familiar face. The sound of thumping and scraping came from above, and Mira fretted about what state she would find her parents in.

***

Outside, things seemed even worse.

“She keeps breaking through the rope,” a deep voice said.

“You have the worst rope…I’ve ever seen!” Aoi gurgled.

“We didn’t come for hostages anyway,” the man with the wheel said. He set it down on the ground and removed a long knife from his waistband.

“No!” Will yelled, before collapsing back against the ground. He blew wildly with no effect but to further disorient his peers. A colossal swarm of insects similarly performed a bizarre and unhelpful dance in the distance.

The man kicked Aoi flat to the ground and then raised his knife to stab her. His teeth gritted, a rock struck the side of his face, forcing him to stumble to the side. Dot’s arm swabbed the ground for another stone to throw. Holding a smaller one in her hand, she threw it and hit his temple.

At that moment, the other group raced from the other side of the house behind a wave of hollering.

“That one! That one!” those languishing on the ground ordered, and Dennis grappled the man with the knife from behind as the others attacked his comrades. Dennis over-extended his enemy’s elbow joint, causing him to fling the knife down. Rowland, managing to get a hold of it, turned the blade into a smooth round ball. Others in black uniforms with suns and clouds on them came from the roof, the forest, and through the front door of the house. As they wrestled and fought, those on the ground slowly regained their senses. Though they fought clumsily, the students managed to make it an even fight with their numerical advantage.

They battled back and forth, an intruder would throw off one student only to have two more jump on him. They fought with their gifts as much as with their hands. Icicles grew from under the arms of one man. He hurled them at Dennis, but they turned to slush by the time they splashed against his chest. Aoi tore the wooden pillars from the porch railing and launched them at her combatants until someone dropped down on her from the roof. Will blew him off balance and then Aoi threw him into the side of the house.

Together, the students piled their opponents in the center of the lawn, and Jeremy imprisoned them within a thick wall of swirling insects. Aoi wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and saw she was bleeding. The others looked beaten up as well, but no one complained of anything too serious.

They looked at the front door, left wide open, and the dim light that trickled through. The light from the moon shone down on the second floor windows, and they could see one window covered from the inside by a thick white mist.

***

Fortst and the students behind crept silently up the stairs. The thumping sounded more like hacking, and they could hear the floorboards creaking under the weight of footsteps. At the top of the stairs, Mira peeked down the hallway to her parents’ room. The door had been ripped from its hinges but a dense cloud filled the doorway completely.

The sound came from the study at the end of the hall, which shared a wall with the master bedroom. They crept past Mira’s own room, which had been trashed much like the living room below. Fortst stopped and turned back to the students. Without saying a word, he signaled that he would make a charge. He pointed to Mary and then the study. She nodded and held up two fingers. He turned and signaled to Vern and Chucky to follow him in and for Roselyn to watch for anyone escaping into the hallway.

Fortst nodded firmly, and then ran for the study door. He kicked it in like it was nothing, turning to see the two intruders trying to build a fire with wood torn from the wall. One man rose to confront him, and Fortst swung his pipe at him with a smooth, powerful motion. When the pipe struck his head, it made a loud clanging noise but didn’t move him in the slightest.

Vern and Chucky ran in behind him, and they first saw spots of cloud poking through the holes in the hacked and clawed wall. Seeing the man who Fortst had tried to strike, they drew back. He looked big and mean. Naked except for a loincloth, his skin transformed in waves. Wood, metal, fur, plastic, rubber, leaves, glass, porcelain, stone, and so many other textures seemed to sweep over him as his skin changed its composition and appearance. His fists became iron mallets that he slammed down on Fortst’s shoulders, knocking him back between Vern and Chucky and down to the floor.

Watching from the hallway, the girls saw him grab Chucky and throw him up against the wall, smearing oil on it as he slid down. Vern jumped on him from behind, and his skin became like a shark’s, covered in microscopic needles. Vern yelped and slid down, his hands bloody and shredded.

Fortst had gotten up, and he showered blows down on his opponent in the hopes of finding a weak spot. The tube always landed on metal and had no effect. Dodging a blow and blocking the next with his weapon, he struggled to hold back the attack as the arm grew teeth like a razor-sharp saw. The arm pulled down, raining rust down on Fortst. He swung again for the man’s head, but the impact snapped the tube in half.

Behind them, the other man worked at creating a fire with the small wood chips. Rubbing his hands back and forth, he twisted a thin stick, trying to create enough heat for a flame to start. A fragile flame soon sprung up and ignited the splinters. He held the torch to the cloud wall and laughed as it started to eat its way through.

“Predictable. Now let’s burn them out,” he said to his companion, who sent an elbow to Fortst’s stomach.

“Ok,” he said, returning quickly to his friend and igniting his own wooden hand.  He stood over Chucky and touched his flaming hand to the oily wall.

“Much obliged, friend,” the fiend laughed, putting out the fire on his hand by changing it to stone.

“Get out of here!” Vern yelled, and Chucky scuttled to his feet and through the door. He ran past the girls and down the stairs. The oil caught fire and spread against the wall. It followed the thin trail Chucky had left behind until it met with a metal tube. Fortst, giving his enemy a grim and nasty glare, wiped the burning oil onto the broken tube.

“Run, Vern!” Fortst said, and the battered student scampered between them for the door. The intruder sent a metallic fist down to strike him, but Fortst caught it with his bare hand. Holding him in place, Fortst struck him in the back with his flaming weapon, causing another howl of pain.

The fire spread quickly along the walls and the ceiling. Smoke raced out into the hall above Mira’s head.

“We have to get out of here!” Mary said.

Mira went to her parents’ doorway and put her hand against the mist, which felt warm instead of cool.

“Mom, Dad, you have to get out! There’s a fire!”

She didn’t think they could hear her, but she had to try anyway. The man with the changing skin did hear her, and he figured out exactly who she was. He shoved Fortst out of the way and made for the hallway, but Fortst grabbed his shoulder to hold him back. Though he didn’t inflict much pain, he pulled him back and threw him to the ground.

The impact of the heavy weight cracked the weakened floorboards, sending all three men crashing through to the living room below. Quickly, Mira grabbed a towel from her room and held it to the flames surrounding the gaping hole in the study. It caught fire, and she brought it back to the floor near the doorway.

“What are you doing? Mary asked.

“Better I get through to them than they do,” she said.

The fire ignited the wooden doorway and began to dissolve the mist. She watched anxiously until a small hole appeared.

“Mom, Dad, it’s me!”

She could see them coming closer and looking in the tiny space between the fire and the cloud.

“Mira!” Kevin gasped. “You have to get away. They’re after you!”

“I know, but the house is on fire. The coast is clear, let’s go!”

She could see her dad nodding, and soon the cloud wall disappeared completely. Though she felt overjoyed to see them, they had to get out immediately. The five of them ran down the stairs and then stopped dead.

The wreckage from the study above smoldered on the left side of the room. They could see Fortst’s body lying face down on the floor. A man with a body of stone lurched to his feet and stalked toward them. Vern and Chucky had seemingly gone, and Kevin’s power was useless for the heat.

“I suppose I might as well do something,” Roselyn said. She began to sing, and her simple and charming song slipped in under his tough exterior. It weighed heavily on his mind, making his movements slower and lazier. The threatening and dangerous look dropped from his face. His skin looked plush like a pillow.

“You look sleepy,” Jeana said, leading him outside through the broken glass door. Once they made it out to the grass, she tapped him on the forehead and sent him off to sleep.

“I sure wouldn’t trade places with your mother,” Jeana said, shaking her head.

Kevin and the girls attempted to drag Fortst outside, but his weight and size hindered them. They heaved and strained, until they heard a voice.

“There’s a fire!” Aoi said, running into the room and sizing up the situation. “Try the gym,” she admonished them, grabbing her teacher and carrying him through the front door by herself. The students outside had captured the second enemy who tried to escape after falling through the study room floor, and they gasped when they saw Fortst’s unconscious state. She set him down on the grass and went to get Jeana and her prisoner.

“Is he ok?” everyone asked.

He wasn’t breathing and a few of them felt tears come into their eyes. Mira knelt down and slapped him across the face.

“Get up!” she wept. “You saved us. You could at least be around to enjoy the glory.”

She shook him as hard as she could and pounded on his chest with her forearms. Too much time had passed, and Mira gave up and pulled away. Suddenly some life came to him, and he began coughing, weakly at first, but gradually with increasing vigor. He finally opened his eyes and drowsily looked around.

“Did you catch me sleeping on the job? Sorry about that.”

“No, no, you did fine,” Mira said, breaking down for joy with the other students. Jeana came around the side of the house and took her place by her husband’s side. Seeing them together, Mira finally let herself believe that everything would be ok.

“I was so worried that something would happen to you,” she said to them.

“Us? You shouldn’t have come. We thought you would be safe as long as you were with your group.”

“I was,” she said, gesturing to her peers spread out on the lawn. Mira hugged her parents warmly, glad to be able to touch them and feel that they were there. When Mira stepped away, she saw Chucky approaching her.

“I’m sorry about what’s happening to your house. It’s all my fault,” he said. The fire spread around the house and glowed through the windows. The roof looked like it would catch any minute.

“Let me see what I can do,” Kevin said.

“You can’t blame yourself, Chucky,” Mira said. “Just because they used your power against you doesn’t mean you did it.”

A sheet of white mist formed over the house. It grew dense and thick, sucking water from the air. The droplets became too much for the air to hold, and they dripped and rained down on the house. The mist crept in through broken windows and pumped water onto the shrinking flames. The smoke began to look more like steam.

“This is strange,” Kevin said. “The water isn’t putting it out completely. What’s going on?”

“That’s because it’s burning the oil, not the wood. Water won’t put it out because it’s a different kind of fire. You’ll just have to wait for all of the oil to burn away and make sure it doesn’t spread to the wood,” Mira said.

“I guess that means Corey was wrong. Not all fire blends together perfectly,” Jeremy said.

“That’s true,” Mira said, “but our differences can be our strength. Where one of us fails, another will succeed, and in that way together we will meet every challenge that comes before us!”

Everyone cheered, and soon the last flames ran out of fuel and disappeared. The sound of running footsteps came from down the road, and everyone turned to see who approached. Two men and two women, the town guards, trotted onto the lawn. While one spoke, the others began to tie up the prisoners.

“We just finished rounding up the townsfolk, and we’re here to take these prisoners off your hands. Corey sends his orders for you to meet with him in the outpost at once.”

When the prisoner exchange had been completed, the weary warriors mustered what energy they had left to hurry down into town. Without the adrenaline rush to prop them up, they struggled to keep their eyes open with each step. They had no idea what time of night it was, but they all felt a dire urgency to sleep.

Natalie stood at the gate, confirming their identities and escorting them inside. The entire town, a few hundred people, occupied the outpost courtyard. Not one of them knew the nature of the emergency, and so confused and worried faces surrounded them as they worked their way through the crowd. Natalie called on someone, who escorted Fortst to the healer’s tent.

“No, I’m fine. Really. Just let me walk it off,” Fortst pleaded as the man dragged him to Nora, who already had a pair of shears in her hair.

The rest dropped down the far stairs below ground. Entering the office, they saw Corey standing in front of the conference room door. He looked strangely amused and satisfied despite the circumstances.

“How you all survived is a mystery I will never comprehend. You’ve done this town a service, but I would be careful not to tempt fate so recklessly next time. I think all of our graduates learned more training is in order before they are ready to meet our unpredictable enemies in battle.”

Leading Jeana, Mira, and the rest of the students, Kevin followed Corey into the underground room with the long table. He hadn’t seen Yannick since they had come to their agreement in that room, and he was shocked to find him standing there, infirmly, next to Corey.

“What is he doing here?” Kevin asked.

“If you must know, he followed that band of raiders all the way back here to warn us. Without him, I fear the events of this evening would have passed much more dreadfully. Yannick has managed to gather some crucial information while risking his life for you,” Corey said.

Yannick wobbled back and forth before propping his arm against the wall. The candles in the room illuminated the cuts on his face, his bloodshot eyes, and his torn clothing. He looked gaunt, starving, and ghoulish for want of a good bath.

“I couldn’t make it to the other side like you wanted, Mr. Ipswich. I couldn’t find the man who entered your home and tried to take the life of your daughter in the night. I couldn’t find Pyrenee, that faceless name pulling the strings. But I did find those grunts you met with tonight, and they said plenty when they thought no one was listening.

“Sneaking around them, I heard about their plot to kill Mira. Pyrenee put them up to it. It sounds like she’s sold her humanity for a sharp sword. She leads the Sunfighter’s army. So I don’t have to guess to know what horrible things she’s done to good people I knew. But that ain’t the end of it.

“You said Mira’s sister was kidnapped in a fire by a wild man. She’s still alive and they’re holding her captive. I heard it from their very mouths. To this day she rots in some putrid dungeon somewhere. But she’s precious to them, and they’d go to any lengths to keep her. They’re afraid you’re going to come for her, Mira. You’d better do just that.

“Now I’ve been square-dealing with you here and told you everything I heard accurately and honestly. But I can see how you might prefer a nice rosy lie, this truth is all thorns.”

The revelation that their long lost baby lived cut into Kevin and Jeana, shining a light on something they had never thought possible. They held each other and braced themselves for Mira’s reaction. Mira’s emotions waffled through curiosity, confusion, and outrage to despair, sympathy, and wonder. She couldn’t let herself believe what Yannick said. She nervously glanced at her fellow students out of embarrassment. What would they think of her now that they knew the sorrows of her family?

“What is he talking about? I don’t understand,” she said, sounding scared.

“He’s telling the truth,” Kevin said. “You are not an only child. You have a twin sister, Clara, but someone took her from us when you were only an infant. You two lay next to each other in a crib, identical even to us, and a man came into our home. A man without heart or conscience, he took your power and he took your sister from us. We always assumed she had been laid to rest, but somehow she’s done it. She’s survived!”

The feelings stirred so deeply within Mira that her eyeballs rolled up into her head and her hands shook. Her legs could no longer support her weight, and she hobbled into a chair. Gulping her breaths, she covered her straining face with her hands until her grief went to words.

“Is that all? Please, tell me if that’s all. How can mere words tear me apart like this? I had a power, but I was stripped of it and left to live as a hollow shell. I have a sister—something I prayed for every night—but she paid for my blissful ignorance by suffering cruelty and enslavement. And to top it all off, you never told me when someone came to kill me. I know you tried to protect me, Dad, but having it all rain down at once is too much to bear.”

“Mira, I’m sorry. I didn’t want this for you,” Kevin said, trailing off when he realized she couldn’t hear him. Her face was red, and she sobbed.

“I owe her everything,” she whimpered. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. Taking her finger to the air, she traced, a face that looked a lot like hers but wasn’t. She wiped her red eyes and waited for the pain to pass, the anger to fade, and the thirst for revenge to disappear. She waited until she could stand up with courage and hope. And when she felt the urge to fight for her sister, she seized it.

She turned to her fellow students, the ones she had known since she first stepped out of her cloudy, insulated world so long ago. Even though everything looked so different after that day, she felt a bigger change in the world from the truths she had learned just now. There was someone out there for her, someone who made her journey a mission. Looking into the eyes of those she had become close to, Roselyn, Will, Vern, Aoi, Mary, Chucky, and Rowland, she could see that they knew what she wanted to say, and they wanted her to say it.

“We must make ourselves strong enough to stand up for our families and our friends, but now protecting them is not enough. Though I never knew it before, they’ve taken more than I ever thought I had. So right now, I’m going to make a promise to you. I stake my life on setting my sister free and making sure they can never torment anyone again. And we will succeed. ‘Cuz when our darkness falls on their evil plight, and the light has gone and it’s time to fight, we’ll bare our teeth and show our might, and they’ll know it’s us who set it right.”

The End of Book 1

Look for the exciting sequel: The Shadowing

***About the Author***

Jason Letts is an author and editor of young-adult and paranormal fiction. The books of his young-adult fantasy series, Powerless, are available now, and he and Amanda Hocking will release the first book in a new paranormal romance trilogy, entitled Inevitable, in January 2011. The story features an entrancing spirit from infinity who does her best to improve the life of a young man before a tragic accident will take his life. You can contact Jason via email at infinitejuly@gmail.com or find out about him and his books at www.powerlessbooks.com.