The Institute (Falling Ash Chronicles #1) (4 page)

BOOK: The Institute (Falling Ash Chronicles #1)
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Chapter 5

As I exited the mission hall Meredith came in from the other end, leading a couple through the hall. I pegged them as parents right away. They didn’t look like investors, sharply dressed sharks who saw everything in dimes and pennies. They had that terrified yet hopeful look.

I quickly spun in the other direction, heading down the hall towards the classrooms. It was no use. I’d been spotted. I half wondered if Meredith had timed it, aware of when I would be leaving the Mission Center. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had someone glued to the cameras, alerting her that I was finished.

“Elsabeth!” Meredith called. I winced, coming to a halt. “Elsabeth, come greet our visitors,” Meredith said. She was using her sweet voice, the one meant to reassure parents. I forced a fake smile before I turned around and walked back.

I knew the drill. Greet the parents, put them at ease, explain to them why the Institute was the best place for their kids, no matter the expense. I stopped in front of them, catching Meredith’s eyes on my “bite me” t-shirt. I was guessing she was regretting her choice in students to show off. She stepped towards me, wrapping one skeletal arm around my shoulders as if to signify unity as we faced the pair.

“Everyone, this is Elsabeth. She’s one of our longtime students here at the Institute. Elsabeth, meet Bill and Alice Johnson,” she said. I murmured a polite greeting, trying not to show how much it bothered me to have Meredith’s arm around me. People didn’t want to see what they would interpret as antisocial behavior.

“Elsabeth is one of our wards,” Meredith was saying. “She’s been with us for nearly ten years. We took her in after her parents died in a Rogue attack.” I winced at the reminder, both of my parent’s death and the fact that I was nothing more than a charity case. For most of the other students their time here was like a private school with breaks each summer and holiday. I hadn’t left the Institute in nearly nine years.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Ms. Williams said, looking appropriately sympathetic.

“It was a long time ago. The Institute has become my home,” I said, seeing Meredith’s approving glance out of the corner of my eye.

“Elsabeth is rather uniquely gifted. She manifested her powers from a young age,” Meredith said. “Our program here offers these students opportunities they otherwise wouldn’t have. There are hundreds of Institutes across the United States where they may be employed after they graduate from our program. Our job opportunities are quite coveted,” she said. Alice smiled, leaning in on her husband. They were sold and Meredith knew it.

“Now, we should let Elsabeth get back to class.” She released me, much to my relief. I slipped away, heading towards the teaching wing of the Institute. I could hear her continuing her pitch behind me. “Here at the Institute we value the individuality of each of our students. We cater to each of our students particular needs, their training geared towards their specific skill sets. I can assure you, Mr. and Ms. Williams, your son will be quite well taken here,” she said. I rolled my eyes as the door closed behind them. She couldn’t even remember that I hated being called Elsabeth.

I went to my next class, one of my favorites. It was a full hour working one-on-one with a Special instructor on my powers.

Brendell had been my teacher since I first came to the Institute. She was a soft spoken woman with long brown hair that was always pulled back in a braid. She favored muted earthy tones and gold jewelry. I felt most comfortable in her office. She hated the sterile environment of the Institute and insisted that her office be decorated with dark woods and jewel tones.

She wasn’t there when I arrived, but she’d already set up the items for our session. She’d laid out a colorful patchwork blanket in the middle of the floor, placing several items in a row along the center of the blanket. There was a small jeweled elephant sitting on the left. A box made out of old wood with a burned engraving on its top was placed in the middle. The final item was a necklace, an amethyst pendant dangling from a silver chain. I stepped into the room, going to the blanket and seating myself cross-legged.

I tugged off my gloves, carefully folding them and setting them aside. I reached out, picking up the necklace. Images flooded my mind. I saw the ocean, the endless blue going out as far as the eye could see until it met up with the horizon. The sky was made up of beautiful pinks, reds, and oranges as the sun sank lower. I heard the muted call of seagulls, the sound of waves crashing against the sand. It didn’t pull me in as it normally would with the human counterparts, allowing me to see it without drawing me in and trapping me.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? I got it on my recent trip to Sri Lanka.” I jumped, releasing the pendant and letting it tumble back onto the blanket. I turned my head to see Brendell entering the room, closing the door after her before she padded over to where I was sitting. She was barefoot, with a single gold anklet jangling on her foot. She wore a loose fitting skirt and peasant type blouse. She folded her legs and gracefully sat across from me, resting her hands lightly on her knees.

“Sorry. I know I should have waited,” I said sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Brendell smiled serenely. She was an Empath, able to sense or feel out those around her and influence them. She was able to anchor me, keeping me centered on reality even as I got lost in memories. If she needed to, she could pull me back.

“What did you see?” she asked, not upset in the least by my intrusion.

“The ocean,” I said. “It was peaceful.”

“Good. That’s what I was hoping for.” She reached out, nudging the elephant figurine in my direction. “Try this one,” she urged. I reached out and picked it up, cradling it in my palm. I stroked my finger along the jeweled trunk as I was swept into its most recent past.

I saw hundreds of tables, my view limited by the ones directly in the vicinity where the elephant was set up on display. People passed it day in and day out, some lifting it, touching it, others shifting it aside to go for the more interesting pieces behind it. Each night it was packed away into darkness, waiting to be brought out again the next day.

“What do you see?” Brendell asked.

“A bazaar. India?” I guessed.

“That’s right. Look deeper. I want you to pull at its origins.” I nodded and closed my eyes, closing my fists around it. Most memories faded with age, leaving impressions of its history. I had to dig to get more than the most recent past, unless the item was linked to a violent history. Then there was no telling what I would see.

I felt my mind stretch out, probing the porcelain. It felt stronger than I was used to, seeming to be an entity of its own. My powers stretched out; pushing past the walls I’d built to contain it. Years flashed before my eyes. The elephant was old. I could tell from the moment I touched it. Before the bazaar, it spent decades sitting on a shelf before it was knocked over, cracking the right leg. My finger traced the faint line where it had been glued back together, barely discernible.

More years passed. It moved from house to house, never seeming to settle for long. I strained, trying to push further. Where had it come from? Where was it made? Who made you, I asked the still piece.

Further back. I felt my head begin to throb, the dull pulsing warning me I was pushing too far. I didn’t stop, forcing my mind to stretch. Images were racing through my mind, sorted and collected and stashed for later use. Further. Just a little further….

“Ells, stop!” Brendell said sharply. The way she said it made it seem like she’d said it several times before. I jolted, my fingers unclenching, the figurine tumbling down onto the blanket. My hands were shaking violently, startling me. I could feel my powers even now, pulsing deep within me. I had never been frightened by what I could do until now. What was going on with my power?

“That’s enough for today. You need to be careful. I almost couldn’t pull you out,” Brendell chided, handing me my gloves.

“Sorry,” I said. My mouth was dry. I glanced at my phone, startled to realize my hour was up. I had been so deep I hadn’t been aware of how much time had passed.

“Take it easy. I sense there’s something wrong. It’s not like you to get pulled so deep with an inanimate object. Your powers are fighting you.” Brendell said, her voice concerned.

“What does that mean?” I asked, alarmed.

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like it. Has Tammy checked you out recently?” Brendell asked.

“Yeah. She ran a few tests yesterday,” I told her.

“Good. I want you to be careful until the results come back,” Brendell said firmly. She closed her fist on the necklace, holding it out in my direction. “I want you to keep this. I suspect that you will need something to calm you in the near future,” Brendell said.

“Oh no, it’s too pretty,” I objected, even as I held out my hand, letting the gem fall in my palm. Brendell smiled, her peaceful look returning.

“I thought of you when I saw it. It belongs to you. Take it.” She pulled it from my hand, coming to stand behind me as she draped it around my neck. I wrapped my fingers around it, lifting it off my chest to stare at it. It was mine? She was serious?

“Thank you,” I murmured, awed. I couldn’t remember owning anything so beautiful.

“It suits you,” Brendell said, sounding satisfied. “Our time is up. You’d best be on your way to your next class,” she said. Brendell walked towards the door, her anklet jangling. I came to my feet and followed her, my hand still wrapped around my present. I was smiling as I passed her and stepped into the hall.

“Be careful, Ells,” Brendell said before closing the door behind me.

Chapter 6

Thud. Thwack. Thud.

I stopped the dummy, pausing it mid-swing to wipe my arm over my brow. I’d been at it for almost a half hour, trying to work out my frustration, and it wasn’t helping. If anything it was making me angrier. I set my knives aside, laying them blades pointed in on the table, and picked up my water bottle.

The students around me kept moving, sparring with the inanimate obstacles set up around the room. We were all wearing the same black one-piece suit, similar to what you’d wear on a mission except they were threaded with sensors that monitored our every movement and vital sign.

We trained every day on a rotating schedule. One day we worked with endurance and strength, which came down to lifting weights and running. On the other days we worked with a variety of different weaponry. We were expected to be efficient in all of them, and able to turn anything into a weapon if needs be. It was meant to prepare you for anything that might happen on a mission. Today was weapon day.

I’d been still too long. I caught Martin looking in my direction. I hastily set aside my water bottle and grabbed my knives, returning to my post. Rule one of Martin’s class: keep moving. If he caught you idling he would decide he needed to do a “progress check”, which really meant “torture fest”. He would make you go through an obstacle course, running through it until he was satisfied you’d learned your lesson. I’d been on that obstacle course more times than I could count, swinging across monkey bars and scuttling under low-strung wire.

I fell into a rhythm. Thud, thwack, spin. I focused on my anger, using it to harden my blows. Thud. Take that, Jonathan, you lying cheating man-child. Thwack, and you, Kate, you manipulative hussy. Their faces blurred, turning into the indiscriminate Rogue’s I saw in my visions. Faceless, soulless entities. My blows grew more vicious, faster and faster until the dummy was practically spinning.

“Boy, I would hate to get on your bad side,” a dry voice said. I yelped, turning, and the swinging arm came around, crashing into the small of my back. It launched me forward, knocking me to the ground. My fingers released the knives, sending them skidding across the padded ground. “Whoa! Sorry! Are you okay?” the boy asked, his voice alarmed.

He reached out to grab my arm. I jerked my elbow away and scrambled to sit. I wasn’t wearing my gloves. Martin banned them, saying they prevented me from learning to control my powers in a fight. I felt guilty when I saw the hurt expression on his face, though it was only there for a moment before he hastily shielded his expression.

“I’m fine. No harm done,” I said. I shifted my shoulders, wincing. That was sure to leave a bruise.

“I’m Mike,” he said, crouching cautiously a few feet away. I recognized him from different classes. He was one of the late bloomers, only arriving about six months ago. He was thin and gangly, looking like he hadn’t quite grown into his body. His mousy brown hair was cut short around his head. He wore black-rimmed glasses that dominated his face, shrouding his clear blue eyes. He had the trapped look of someone who still didn’t quite feel like they belonged.

“I know,” I said shortly, then sighed, pressing my palms to my temples. “Sorry, I’m having a bit of an off day. I’m Ells,” I said.

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to beat the dummy, not let the dummy beat you?” a mocking voice came from above us. Really? I cast my eyes skyward. Could this day get any better? The voice belonged to Chardonnay, the self-proclaimed queen bee of the Institute. Her dark hair was pulled back in a thick braid, her creamy brown skin fairly glowing. Her pack of followers circled around behind her, snickering at her less than original ingenuity.

“Go away, Chardonnay,” Mike said, startling me. I turned to him to see him glaring, looking ready to take a swing at her himself. So I wasn’t the only one Chardonnay liked to torment. My liking for him instantly grew, sensing a kindred spirit.

Chardonnay snorted.

“Protecting your girlfriend, pipsqueak? What are you going to do about it, fry my hard drive?” When Mike only glared, Chardonnay grinned in triumph. Everyone knew Chardonnay was one of the fiercest fighters at the Institute. No one quite seemed to know what her powers were, although there were many theories. She kept them well hidden. It was rumored that the Institute was training her as a secret weapon, which only served to add to her mystique. “You guys are adorable, the freak and the weakling. I can see your kids now,” Chardonnay scoffed. That was it. I’d had it. I’d been pushed around one too many times today.

“Don’t you have something better to do, Chardonnay? Like sleep with Jeremy? Everyone knows that’s why you’re his favorite,” I taunted. Chardonnay’s face slowly darkened. One of her girls released a startled laugh before a glare from Chardonnay silenced her.

“Careful, Ells. Rumors are nasty things. They tend to come around and bite you,” she warned, her narrowed eyes coming back around to me.

“Who says it’s a rumor?” I asked pointedly. Her dark brown eyes narrowed furiously, her hands clenching into fists. I tensed, half suspecting that she was getting ready to deck me.

“Ladies! Mike! What’s the hold up?” Martin called across the room. Chardonnay’s face changed, going from blank fury to sweet innocence in a heartbeat.

“Nothing. We’re just helping Ells up. She took a nasty fall,” Chardonnay said. Martin eyed us suspiciously, not buying it in the least. Chardonnay made a huge show of holding out her hand, gripping my arm and hauling me to my feet. The minute Martin looked away her fingers tightened into a vise. I winced as she leaned into my face. “Watch your back, Ells. You don’t want me as an enemy,” she warned.

“You’re spitting in my face,” I said, trying to appear unperturbed. Chardonnay shoved me back, releasing my arm as she walked away. I scowled after her, rubbing my abused appendage.

“Whoa,” Mike said. “Was that true?” he asked.

“Was what true?” I asked.

“Did she sleep with Jeremy?” he asked. I smirked, bending over and grabbing my knives.

“I don’t know. Seems likely now though, doesn’t it?” I said. Mike chuckled, nudging the dummy into motion.

 

Mike and I spent the rest of the time training together, going from one range to the next, making a game out of skirting around Chardonnay. If she was in the bow and arrow range, we were across the room working in the gun range. If she was near the knives, we were over by the sparring ring, taking turns throwing punches. The minute our time was up we split towards our respective lockers, promising to meet up in the mission hall to go to lunch.

I made a brief stop at my locker, grabbing a change of clothes before slipping into one of the shower stalls. I pulled off my uniform and shoved it down the laundry chute before stepping into the showers. A quick rinse off later, I slipped out, pulling on my clothes.

Something was missing; my new necklace. I had stuck it in my glove for safekeeping, except now it wasn’t there. I walked back through the main room, my eyes glued to the floor as I retraced my steps. Chardonnay and her girls were standing in front of a long mirror, reapplying their layers of makeup. I studiously ignored them, focused on my search. When I didn’t see it along the way I stopped at my locker, spinning the combination. I stuck my head in my locker, relieved when I saw my necklace lying on the bottom shelf.

“Jeremy told me they’ve been conducting an investigation for the last month,” Chardonnay said. Her words were low, meant to resemble a confidential whisper though it was clearly loud enough for all to hear. In spite of myself, my curiosity was piqued. This was the first I’d heard of an investigation.

“What have they found?” one of the girls asked. Sarah Chandler, I thought. She was Chardonnay’s right-hand gal.

“Nothing. That’s what’s freaky. Whoever it is is like a ghost. They breached a firewall on the main computer. They can’t even tell if it was done remotely or here at the Institute,” Chardonnay said. She was soaking in the attention. I grabbed my necklace, draping it over my head. I lingered, making a big show of pulling my hair through the chain. I was unabashedly eavesdropping, a fact I was none too proud of.

“They can’t close down the missions. I’m supposed to leave this afternoon,” Sarah whined. Really? A possible mole in the institute and she’s worried about losing her chance to leave the grounds? I snorted.

“Got a problem, Ells?” Chardonnay asked. I closed my locker door, shrugging.

“I think if there was a problem they would tell us,” I pointed out.

“They’re bringing in a Soothsayer,” Chardonnay said. My jaw nearly dropped. A Soothsayer? It had to be bad. They were only brought in as a last resort. A Soothsayer was rare, even rarer than me, and in high demand. They had the ability to see into a person's future.

“When?” Sarah asked, her voice echoing my stunned thoughts. Chardonnay’s ice-cold stare softened as she smiled, confident that she’d regained everyone’s attention.

“Sometime this next week. Some people better watch out. The Institute doesn’t take lightly to traitors,” she called after me. I nearly snorted again. Yeah, like anyone would think I was capable of being a mole.

 

BOOK: The Institute (Falling Ash Chronicles #1)
10.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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