King 03 - Restless (7 page)

The ball dipped only slightly before I firmed my grip. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Well done,” Marica praised. “Are you tired, or would you like to try one more thing?”

“I’m fine,” I answered, never taking my eyes from the orb.

“Then slowly move the ball through the air and place it gently back in its original spot on the table.” She spoke firmly and with complete expectation of compliance.

I drew in another deep breath and began inching the orb slowly through the air. It bobbed and wavered a little, and it moved slowly, but eventually it hovered above the table. I lowered it bit by bit until it dropped onto the table with a hollow rap.

Only then did I blink, and only then did the wave of utter exhaustion wash over me. My head throbbed, and I saw spots dancing in front of my eyes. I fell into the wooden chair nearest to me and held head in my hands.

I don’t know how long I sat there before I sensed Marica standing in front of me.

“Here,” she said, and I felt the cool smoothness of glass against the back of my hand. “Drink this. It is restorative.”

The glass was filled with a thick red liquid, and I sipped it with a great deal of trepidation. To my surprise, the taste was mild, and once it touched my lips, I gulped it down as though I had been very thirsty.

“What is it?” I asked when I had drained the glass and handed back to Marica.

“An old family recipe. A combination of juices and powdered herbs that strengthen and support. Your head should begin to feel better shortly.”

And indeed it did. I found I could move my eyes again without pain.

“Marica,” I began slowly, “what is the purpose of this? Moving objects, holding them—well, it seems like parlor tricks to me. Why is it necessary?”

“We’re stretching you,” she answered crisply. “Moving you outside your comfort zone, showing you what is possible. Moving objects mentally? Hardly something that will change the world. But what’s important is that you’re realizing that we have not even begun to tap into your real abilities.” She studied me for a moment and then turned.

“If you’re feeling well enough, you should go home now. You don’t want to raise any questions with your parents, and of course you need some rest.”

I stood, expecting to feel dizzy. Instead I found nothing out of the ordinary; even the pain in my head had subsided to a dull ache. I followed Marica out of the room in silence. She opened the front door for me and stepped aside.

“You’ll need a bit of recovery time. Don’t bother coming over again until next Monday. You know the way now; come here directly from school.” As I went out, I turned back to say good-bye, but she had already closed the door.

I was preoccupied as I drove home, still not quite sure what to make of the experience or of Marica herself.

On the positive side, though, I had realized something:  when I was working with Marica, my mind was too full to think about Michael. Even the part of me that still clung to him, broken and in pain, had to admit that the break was a relief. The new and harder part of me merely smiled in arched silence.

Tas, it’s me. I had the worst feeling today—like something’s wrong with you. I mean, like you’re in trouble. I don’t know, maybe it’s just another way of missing you. I wish—would you just call and tell me you’re okay? Or email me—anything. I thought of asking my mom to drive over and check on you, but then I realized you might not like that. And maybe you’re not even checking these messages. Okay. Well—I guess that’s it. Call me. I love you.

I was so exhausted when I got home that I climbed into bed in my clothes and fell asleep. My mother woke me up two hours later, concern lining her face.

“Are you sick?” she asked, frowning.

“No.” I tried to sit up and found that the room was spinning a little. “I’m just worn out.”

She perched at the edge of bed and peered into my face. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes,” she announced. “And you’re very pale.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said dryly. “I feel so much better now.”

“Tasmyn, are you… do you think maybe you’re depressed? You know, with everything that happened with Michael—and you haven’t been yourself lately. Maybe you should talk to someone.”

“What do you mean? Like a psychiatrist or something? Do you think I’m crazy?” I was more than a little defensive as an image of Nell flitted around the edges of my mind.

“No, of course I don’t. I just think it might be good for you to have someone to talk to about your feelings and what you’re going through—”

“And should I tell them that I can hear their thoughts while they’re working with me? You know, ‘Hey, Doc, one of the things that really stresses me out is having to listen to other people’s minds all day.’”

“Tasmyn!” My mother’s shock was clear on her face. “What’s wrong with you? I understand that you’re dealing with a lot of —of stuff right now, but there is no need to be disrespectful—or to take it out on me.”

I shut my eyes and tried to find my well of patience. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m really tired. I promise you, I’m not depressed or suicidal. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I guess it’s catching up with me. If you don’t mind, I’m going to change into my pj’s, wash my face and go back to sleep.”

“What about dinner?” My mom rose to her feet and stood looking down at me, hands on her hips.

“Not hungry.” I slipped past her to the bathroom and closed the door behind me with finality. When I returned to my room, my mother had gone. 

I got back into bed and was asleep again within moments. 

“Hello, Tasmyn. Long time, no see.”

I struggled to open my eyes. I was back at Marica’s house, sitting on the straight wooden chair in the same room in which we’d worked this afternoon.  And I wasn’t alone.

Nell was sitting in the chair opposite me. Her long dark hair billowed around her shoulders, and her eyes looked at me expectantly, with perhaps just a bit of amusement.

“Nell. I was thinking about you today… which is probably why I’m dreaming about you now.”

“Dreaming? Is that what you think?”

“Isn’t that what this is?”

“It was… beneficial for you to believe that last year when we visited. But now I’m thinking you’re ready to face the truth.”

I snorted, shifting in the chair. “Truth? When have you ever concerned yourself with truth, Nell?”

“I’ve never lied to you, Tasmyn. Well… not since I had to lure you into the woods that day, but even then I didn’t really lie to you. I just led you toward some erroneous information.”

“Okay. Regardless, excuse me if I don’t consider you an entirely reliable source.”

“Tasmyn, what’s happened to us? I thought we had come to some sort of understanding last fall.”

I twisted in my seat and drew one leg up beneath me. “What I came to understand was that you were only trying to keep me from Marica. You were jealous of my relationship with her, and you wanted me to be suspicious, to pull away from her. It didn’t work. So why are you here now?”

“Oh, I’m just checking on you, making sure you don’t forget that I’ve warned you.” She glanced around the room. “Do you notice where we are tonight? Can you guess why?”

I frowned, thinking. “You said once… you said that it had to be a place we had both been. The cafeteria, the chemistry room, the clearing at Lake Rosu… so I guess us being here now, together, means that at some point you came to Marica’s house.”

“Of course I was here. More importantly, the fact that we’re
both
here tonight tells me that
you
have now visited this room.”

I looked away from Nell, unable to meet her eyes. She laughed without any humor.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be checking on you? I’ve been attempting this meeting periodically, wondering when she’d finally bring you here. Each time you failed to… appear, I was relieved. But now here you are.”

“Why does it matter to you, Nell? I’m studying with Marica, I’ll admit that. But she’s not what you think she is. I’m just learning to control my power, to expand it.”

Nell leaned forward. Her arms were free tonight, and she rested her elbows on her knees. In the dim light, she looked about twelve years old.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this, Tasmyn. Trying to explain that she cannot be trusted. Don’t you see—this is how she drew
me
in. She didn’t start out by telling me that I’d end up in the woods holding a knife to someone’s throat.”

“Nell, I don’t want to hear this. Marica told me what happened. I understand that you were hurt—”

“You understand nothing.” Suddenly her voice was steely. “You’re hearing only what Marica wants you to hear. And maybe in the beginning you were skeptical, but now you’re buying into what she says. That is extremely dangerous.”

I couldn’t look at her. Nell’s words resonated with that deep uneasiness I’d been ignoring for days.

“Tasmyn.” Her voice gentled. “I don’t have an agenda. I’ll probably be here in this hospital for the rest of my life. From this vantage point, I see things far more clearly than I ever could in King.”

“But I could never hurt anyone. I’m just learning how to use my abilities, I’m not—”

“To what end?” Nell interrupted. “Have you asked Marica
why
she’s so interested in teaching you and what she intends to do when you’ve mastered all these skills? That’s one of your weaknesses, Tasmyn. You never ask the right questions.”

I stood. “Nell, I’m leaving. You’ve made your point. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

She rose as well, and I noticed for the first time that she was wearing some kind of loose pajamas. 

“All right, Tasmyn. I’ll release you know. But remember that I’ll be watching. And I’m not giving up.”

With that, she closed her eyes and the room was dark. When I could see again, there was sunlight slanting through the shutters in my own bedroom. It was morning.

Tasmyn, it’s me… again. I didn’t hear from you last night, so I called Amber. I know, that probably makes you mad, but I had to know. She said you were okay as far as she knew, but I could tell from her tone that she’s worried about you, too. I know you said you needed space, but please, please, don’t do anything… well, reckless. Keep away from Ms. Lacusta. If you’ve got to stretch your wings or whatever I get that, but just don’t go crazy. And now you’re even more angry because it sounds like I’m telling you what to do. Okay. It’s only because I love you, Tas. Call me.