A Matter of Fate (44 page)

Silly boy. “How long will it take?”

I love the scrape of his stubble against my cheek. “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

I drill Karl later that night. “You know I can’t talk about this stuff,” he says. “You might as well give up now.”

“Forty percent,” I stress angrily.

“Them be crummy odds,” he agrees. We are in the backyard, along with Caleb, once more working on my skills. They think this will better prepare me for Ascension, even though there is no empirical evidence to support such a belief. “Now, I want you to create a striated layer of rock.”

Annoyed, I flick my hand out and a small slab of brightly striped rock appears on the table in front of him. He picks it up and frowns. “What’s with the amethyst layer?”

I roll my eyes. As a Quake, he knows far too much about rocks. “Can we get back to—”

He pushes it back toward me. “That’s a gemstone.”

“So?”

“Give me a genuinely striated rock, Chloe. One found in nature.”

“Is that even a genuine geological term?” Caleb muses.

I laugh and produce another small slab, this time with the requisite layers. And then I sit down on the bench, folding my hands in front of me. “No more parlor tricks until you spill the beans, Karl.” I look at my Faerie friend. “Or Caleb.”

“Oh, I think I’m going to stay quiet and let the big guy do the explaining here.” Caleb gives me a wink. “If he can.”

Karl glares at him, but it’s just for show. He and Caleb are actually pretty good friends nowadays. “Look. It’s not that I’m banned from talking, it’s that we physically aren’t able to. Protection of the species and whatnot.”

“Then tell me what you can.”

He struggles for a good minute. “All right. I can tell you this: you have approximately fifteen percent of your powers right now. Once you Ascend, you will automatically be pushed to one hundred percent—that’s a big difference, right? Imagine what it’ll be like—you’ll be saturated in power. It’s difficult to contain immediately, and would be destructive if let loose on society. So, you’re given time and a way to contain it. That’s something only you can learn to do—no one can teach you that.”

“So, it’s like . . . solitary confinement?”

Caleb says, “That’s an interesting but valid way to see it.”

I think about this. “Jonah and Kellan will be in the same room, sequestered together?”

“Is that what he told you?” Karl says, surprised. “Because if that’s the case, it’s a lousy idea.” Caleb agrees wholeheartedly.

“Jonah says his dad told him that’s how it would be.”

Karl laughs under his breath. “Don’t be surprised if they both come back with black eyes.”

So not what I was expecting. “Why?”

“Two Emotionals, already powerful, coming into full power in the same room? It’s going to be a fricking tidal wave of strong feelings. Everything will be exacerbated. All this stuff going on between them?
Ka-boom!
”

“Oh, to be a fly on that wall,” Caleb murmurs, shaking his head.

I stand up, startled, but Karl reaches across the table and motions me to sit back down. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But—”

“But what? You gonna storm Karnach, insist on playing referee? Please. Now, let’s get back to work. Make me a diamond. I have a lot of kissing up to do to my wife lately.”

I sigh, but do as he asks.

Karl is a slave-driver for the next two days, forcing me over and over to hone my craft. We work in the backyard, in the woods, at the beach, in downtown . . . even in the parking lot of the high school. I build and destroy, over and over again, while philosophizing with him about the morality behind my creations. We talk about right and wrong, and why the Council sometimes decides what they do.

“All the worlds have to be balanced,” he says as I shiver on the beach, having built and destroyed a mini-coral reef half a mile off shore. “Thus the reason for so many of the dual edges in our crafts. Bettering civilizations is a good thing, but sometimes they have to be struck down in order to advance. Does that make sense?”

I sink down to sit in the sand. “Like a fire in a forest.”

He sits down next to me. “Exactly. Sometimes fire is what a forest needs in order to clear out the old so the new can spring forth.”

“How many earthquakes have you caused?”

A sort of uneasiness settles over him. “More than you’d like to know.”

I ask, as gently as I can, “Has anyone ever died because of one of your quakes?”

He flinches, just a little. “Sure.”

“I may be asked to do something like that, and it scares the crap out of me, Karl.”

“I know,” he sighs. “And it always will.”

“How do you deal with it? What you’ve done?”

Karl stares out at the water for a long moment. “I try to remind myself that I’m not doing it because I enjoy devastation and death. I do it because it’s necessary, and that sometimes, good can come from it, too.” He clears his throat. “Ecologically, you know?”

“Do you ever wish you were another craft?”

There’s no hesitation. “No. This is what I am. This is what I’m capable of.” He holds his hand out and makes a fist. “And, honestly, I’d rather it be me than some sick freak who gets a kick out of it. Does that make sense?”

The funny thing is I’m starting to think it does.

Jonah comes home three days after his birthday. I’m not sure what I expected to see, or how he might have changed, but tired wouldn’t have been at the top of my list. He has dark circles under his eyes—thankfully due to exhaustion and not his brother’s fists—and messy hair that tells me he’s been overly preoccupied.

I try to pump him for information, but as Karl warned, there’s very little Jonah can tell me other than a) it didn’t hurt (an irrational fear I’ve developed), and b) you don’t notice the time it takes to recover.

“Do you feel differently?” I ask, smoothing his hair down as we snuggle in a large chair in my living room.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I didn’t think I would, but I do.”

“Different bad, or different good?”

He thinks about this. “Different
complete.
It’s like . . . a balloon, I guess. When air is added, it becomes something more. But, other than air, the composition is the same.”

“Do your powers feel different?”

He flexes his fingers. “Yeah. Clearer. Stronger.”

“Do something to me.”

His hands drop. “What?”

“You never work on me—”

“Because you’re my
Connection.
”

I laugh. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t want to work on people and wonder why they’re around you. Ethics and whatnot. But this time, why not? You’ve got all these great, new powers. Test them out on me.” When he hesitates, I wheedle, “Just this one time. C’mon. It’ll be fun. Make me feel something special.”

An eyebrow lifts. “Are you saying I need to use my mojo to get you to feel something special around me?”

I give him a sly grin. “Of course not. You’re quite talented at that sort of stuff all by yourself.”

He laughs and caves in. “Alright. What do you want to feel?”

I close my eyes. “Surprise me.”

His breath is soft against my face. Tingles deliciously zap up and down my body. “This is good,” I murmur.

“I haven’t done anything yet.” I shiver contentedly anyway. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

And then, the most incredible sensation of pure bliss sweeps through me. It starts slowly, a series of goose bumps rippling alongside my arms in union, and then inside me. Once it convenes where my heart is, it alters, infused now with the sensations of first and true love—all tingly and breathless and exciting at the same time.

I know this feeling. I’ve felt it a million times with Jonah over the years.

“This is how I’ll always feel about you,” he whispers, feather soft, against my ear.

The love I have for him violently expands beyond the limits of my heart. I do not know how my rib cage manages to hold it in.

I am being hugged by Karl’s wife, Moira, as we stand in their living room. It’s nice to be in a real home and not one of the many safe houses I’m normally sequestered in during my weekends in Annar. Karl had offered to see if I could stay at with my dad, but I dismissed that ridiculous idea right away. So here we are, in the Graystones’ apartment, and everything is safe, friendly, and welcoming. The only thing missing is Jonah, who, like me before, isn’t permitted to come to Annar while I Ascend.

Moira is very short, with a wide, pretty face; skin the color of coffee mixed heavily with milk; a pert nose sprinkled with freckles and dark curly hair. She’s also so pregnant she can barely stand up without teetering. Karl notices this right away, practically peeling her away from me so he can usher her to a chair by a fireplace. When he goes to get her something to drink, it gives us a chance to catch up, face to face.

“I’ve been wanting to thank you for some time now,” I say, sitting down in the chair opposite her. “I know it can’t be easy to have Karl gone, especially with the baby due soon.”

“As you and Jonah have a Connection,” she smiles, “I’m sure you are well aware what it’s like to be away from your significant other. So yes, it’s hard. But it’s for a good reason, and therefore, we deal.”

“Karl’s been good to me,” I admit.

Her eyes sparkle. “Shh! You’ll ruin his reputation. He rarely tolerates most people’s crap, but he’s gotten all squishy about you, like you’re his sister or something. It’s very sweet.”

“I bring with me a lot of crap,” I say solemnly.

“Who doesn’t?”

Karl re-enters the room, carrying a cup of juice and a snack for his wife. It’s the first time I’ve gotten to watch them interact in person, and the only time I’ve witnessed another couple with a Connection together. They seem to be constantly aware of each other’s presences in the room and move, therefore, in tandem. She leans toward him, he leans toward her, as if they are magnets that can’t be away from one another. He’s no longer “serious Guard extraordinaire,” but a man hopelessly in love and unafraid to let anyone see it. And she’s just as obvious, with every look, touch, and word filled with love for him.

It is a beautiful thing to witness.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” I murmur, “about the baby.”

“Our baby?” Moira asks. Karl instinctively puts his hand on her tummy; she wraps her hand around his.

Honestly, as I know no other pregnant couples, who do they think I’m talking about? “I’m moving here in a few months, you know.”

“And this has to do with our baby, how . . . ?” Karl asks, forehead scrunching.

“Once she’s born, you should stay here and assign someone else to me.”

You’d have thought I’d just asked them to cut off each other’s arms by the way they’re glaring at me.

“I mean,” I clarify, “I’m moving here soon, anyway, right? Within five days of graduation? And if I’m one of the lucky sixty percent whose head doesn’t explode upon early Ascension—”

“What kind of fool are you to have told her that?” Moira snaps incredulously.

“Then,” I continue, “I’ll have my full power load. And Jonah’s Ascended now, too. So, you could stay here, with Moira and the baby.”

After a long silence, in which I genuinely worry they’ve lost the ability to speak, Karl manages, “I have orders, Chloe. I’m to oversee you until you graduate and move here.”

“I just explained that. Your baby will need you more than me.”

Moira turns to her husband. “I think I can understand what you mean about her now.”

He rolls his eyes. “I know. And when she and Jonah get together, it’s like there isn’t a single ear between them.”

“Hey,” I protest. “I’m trying to help here.”

“Don’t help,” Karl says. “And don’t worry about us. We’re good. We’ll always be good.”

There is a special place in Annar meant exclusively for Ascension. It’s located a half-mile below the surface, accessible by a singular elevator which can only be manipulated by a Mover. As I have no idea what a Mover does, I have to rely on Karl to explain how Kiellee, a rather plain-looking Faerie on the Guard, can shift the space continuum and make doorways appear where they normally are not.

I’m not sure what I expected the place where Magicals Ascend to look like, but it certainly wasn’t what I’m faced with. Everything is opulent—all silks and velvets, gorgeous antique furniture made of exotic woods and metals, and museum-worthy artwork.

“What’s this place called?” I ask Karl.

“Valhalla.”

“Like the Norse legends?”

He smirks at me. “As you well know, most legends have some basis in fact.”

I think about this. “Valhalla was filled with Valkyries. Warriors Odin stockpiled.”

“Well,” Karl muses, “I suppose it’s sort of like that. Only we
make
the warriors here.” He winks. “As for Odin, he was one of the early Magicals.”

Sitting at one of the most ornate desks I’ve ever seen is a cheerful Elf, his white-blonde hair twisted up in odd knots across his head. He has only two things adorning his spotless desk: a sheet of thin gold and a name placard that says:
Quincey Buttercup, Master Secretary.

“Is that a craft?” I whisper to Karl as we approach the desk.

“You mean Secretary?”

I nod.

“Nope,” he says, trying to hide his smile. “Although Quince here probably wishes it were. He’s a Smith.” When I cock an eyebrow, he clarifies, “He works with metals.”

“Good morning!” Quincey chirps loudly. His voice echoes off the heavily wallpapered walls. “What a gorgeous day to Ascend!”

I look around; there are no windows, and on our walk over this morning, it’d rained on us. Quincey’s hand whips out and grabs mine, even though it was hanging by my side. I try not to wince as he pumps it up and down like he’s putting air in a bike tire. “Look at you! All adorable and eighteen! I could just pinch your cheeks!”

“Simmer down, Quincey,” Karl says. “There’ll be no cheek-pinching this time.”

“Right!” Quincey says, mercifully letting go of my hand. “Well, I suppose Lilywhite here is an eager beaver to get this over with. Shall we?” He motions to the two chairs sitting in front of his desk. I sit down, but Karl remains standing.