The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) (20 page)

Innately I knew something wasn’t right. Something I couldn’t control.

And because I cared—I offered him one word before it overtook me completely.

“
Run
.”

~

My only chance of finding out what happened to my grandmother just disappeared before my eyes. I felt disgusted over the truth behind the Purge of Sector 9. Mrs. Fawnsworth’s death was on my hands. Eu’jinx clutching at me for help. Molly Dubois taken. Citizens starving. Elders killed. The scorched vision of Xander’s murdered parents was still glued firmly in my memory, the stench of their death curling my stomach. It was all too much for me to handle.

My face scrunched into a grimace, my hands running over my temples to try and scrub away the injustices, finally clawing their way into my hair.

“No.” Xander took a step forward. His posture determined, ready. “I’m not leaving.”

“Then neither am I,” I snarled, swatting at his offered hand. “
I
.
Need
.
Answers
.” I stared at him through my wild hair, enunciating each word through bared teeth.

Then I lost it: my anger simply too much to contain, nowhere for it to go. Gritting my jaw, I swung my mud-caked leg out close to Xander’s shins, using the momentum to spin, and sent my right arm flying at his face.

He blocked my backhand on reflex, which I had expected him to do. A collision of water sprung into the air from the contact, cold droplets pinwheeling from my hair. Seeing the opening, I drove my knee up into his exposed side. With quick hands, he managed to block my attack, but not without quieting the loud smack of skin to skin that echoed from it.

I pushed at his sternum, hard, knocking him back and away. But only for a moment. He looked at me with understanding eyes as I continued my assault. The transition from mental stress to physical blows was something he must’ve been used to. Something he grew up on.

But then something changed. Something snapped deep inside of me, leaking an unfamiliar source of energy from its point of origin. Something
powerful
sprouted from my core, forcing an angry tenor of resentment beneath my eyes.

“
Do not let it consume!
”
ancient voices
invaded my heated mind with a sudden warning.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of the unwarranted thoughts.

So much pain. So much suffering.
My duty to end it
.

A white fury of need emblazoned my mind, taking over completely.
I will right the wrongs committed against this Land! I am Mother and this scourge shall cower back into its darkened hiding, watching as I eradicate all that it desires!

“
You are yet unripe . . .
”
the voices again.

No! I am the awakened Mother and I shall enact retribution!

Once more, I flew at Xander. My body surged with an unnatural energy as I kept my forward motion in the mud, sending kicks and punches his way quicker than I ever had before. I anticipated his blocks for the first time, sending shots into places where I knew he would be exposed. Places, I knew, would extinguish the life from him.

I forced him back, further and further I pushed.

When I did look into his eyes, I saw something there. Struggling to stave off the onslaught of my attacks, I watched as his surprise turned to confusion, and his confusion to real fear.

The sight of that fear was enough to stop me. I paused mid-assault and forced my clenched fists to relax, my bare feet sliding across the mud. And just like that: the energy left my body in such a rush, I was left unbalanced.

Xander took the open invitation, swiping his rocklike shin against the back of my calves, knocking me from my feet. He grabbed me as I fell, swinging me over his kneeled thigh as if he was dipping me at the end of an elaborate dance.

“Lily!” He paused, breathing hard. “What the
hell
?” he finally managed to ask, both shock and concern woven in his tone. Both our chests heaved as we looked at each other. Xander’s brow furrowed as he regarded me. It was as if he’d just witnessed something significant that I did not.

Embarrassed and ashamed, I sat up, scrambling away from him. I pulled my knees to my chest. “I . . . I don’t know. I was about to have one of my episodes, but then—I just don’t know.”

You tried to kill your partner, your friend.

Removing my hands from my knees I rubbed my heated palms over my eyes. It felt as though my mind had been invaded
and consumed by something foreign, pushing me away as it controlled my every move.

I flinched when Xander shifted towards me with a worried frown. “Don’t. Don’t touch me,” I warned.

Was I deranged? Had I just attacked Xander?
My chest heaved as I sat there, thinking of what just transpired.
I had heard a voice.
Voices?
I tried to remember the words, but the memory slipped away like fleeting vapors.

“Take us back, Xander.
Please
, just take me back,” I whispered beneath my trembling hands.

Something in his eyes stalled me when I looked up; their gray depths had darkened with concern.

With knowledge.

“I will,” he said, and reached for my hand.

Part Two

Most people have a singular color—blue, gray, yellow . . . . One look at the shades of each and I know. I know exactly what drives them. What they’ll do. When they’ll act.

When I look at her—she’s radiant, her emotions all very clear.

But there are moments . . . moments when all I sense is the absence of color.

A vessel of pure emptiness.

Then without warning: All colors. Swirling within her becomes a maelstrom of vibrance. Of violence.

Is this erratic storm of energy her own? Her compassion? Her anguish? Her passion to fix what others have broken?

My Sense allows me to know many things.

What I do know is this: I fear for her.

A fear for what she’s capable of. A fear for the regret she may one day face.

-Xander

Chapter 20

The Defyer ~ Shiny New Toys

       
Abnormal
.

       
The word plagued my mind as we drifted through the clouds of the moonlit night with little to say on our return to Prosper.

I was confused and felt sick. The entire time, I tried to reason what exactly had caused my strange outburst. Xander too, appeared off, his stare distant, lost in his own thoughts as he flew us through the thick clouds—back to the city.

My strange mood turned somber when I gazed down and saw the East Wall pass beneath us through the vapor. The stress and reality of the situation all came flooding back the moment we touched down in the sand-filled training yard behind the hanger. I felt both physically and mentally drained, but there was no use hiding it. I was dead on my feet; mud and wet linen clung to my body, and as I looked up, I could already see the whispers of an early morning sunrise lighting the sky above us.

Excluding my fit of madness, I was saddened by leaving the Outlands, and without so much as a goodbye to Teizel at that. Granted, it was he who disappeared on us, leaving me with so many unanswered questions. Questions in which, I believe, had caused the bizarre and violent reaction within me. No matter how much I wanted to dislike Teizel, I still felt strangely connected to him. As though we were bonded through a kindred deeper than blood. As though we shared a common essence, humming to the same vibration of life; his quivering on a lower and wiser frequency, but still echoing the same note in which I felt spiraling and trapped within me.

The same energy I had felt when fighting Xander. The same energy that had wanted me to kill Xander.
No
, I thought. Not kill. Remove. Dismiss.

Swallowing hard, I shook my head, not understanding.

Trudging through the sand I bent at the waist, picking up a stray harness only to find Xander’s warm and slightly calloused hand fall upon mine. I held the strap beneath my fingers, neither of us relenting our hold.

“Don’t even think it.” His gaze fixated on mine.

Somehow I managed a questioning look. “Think what . . .”

“You’re not abnormal.”

I frowned. “You don’t know what I—” The breath flew from me then as Xander ignored my words and brought his hand to my cheek, his fingers reaching into my hair. “Believe me. You’re not,” he said, his eyes intense as they held mine.

Something transpired between us then. Something I didn’t trust.

Xander’s jaw tensed and he blinked. Realizing the intimacy held within such a touch, he dropped his hand and pulled away.

“Get some sleep,” he said in a low tone as he took hold of the harness, wrapping it around his tightening fist. “We’ve got work to do tomorrow.” Without another look he turned, leaving me to watch him walk away again.

~

Stepping from my room the next morning, I looked down the length of my still damp and mud covered form with a frown. I’d been too tired to do anything other than collapse into bed the night before. Closing the bedroom door behind me and picking at a bit of dried mud that still clung tightly to my wrist, I made my way slowly to the washroom. And not particularly in a hurry to start my day either.

Once clean and after warming a bowl of sugared oats, I casually approached the workshop, finding Xander already hard at work beside the smithy. I watched him as I quietly ate, while the sleep still lingered and drawled heavily beneath my eyes. I was exhausted. Not even the warm bath water had soothed my aching muscles though it had washed away all remaining evidence of last night’s adventure.

Worries of my strange outburst, however, still remained—tugged and pricked at my nerves like needles. While soaking in the bronze tub I had tried to recall the words spoken in my mind, but every time I tried, the memory eluded my attempts like darting fireflies.

Pushing my drowsiness aside, I ignored the worry, and regarded Xander. “Why did you come back? To Prosper, I mean,” I asked carefully as I watched him shape and round the sides of a large piece of metal. The automaton, Geri, was tinkering with something on the opposite side of the table, just out of view.

Xander placed the load on the table and took his hammer in hand. He removed a bolt from his lips and tested its placement along the side of the hefty piece without looking my way. “I was accomplishing nothing by sitting idle, living my life solitary in the thicket of the forest,” he replied quietly.

“But what is it exactly that you expect to
accomplish
?” I persisted, finishing off the last of the oats and placing the bowl on the table. “I felt your pain last night, during the vision. I know you have plans.” I searched for the proper word. “Plans for correcting the situation with the Council, and I’m quite certain throwing yourself at them will not get you what you want. Only death.”

“Have you ever visited the
Edge
?” he asked suddenly, dropping the piece of metal against the table’s surface and began to loudly round off the ends again with his hammer’s furious protests.

“What?” I asked, somewhat irritated. “Of course not. You know I didn’t even know the Outlands truly existed until last night.”

He paused, looking up from his work, his breathing heavy and heated. “Did you know they keep the area near the Edge electrified with a force field that is beyond imagining? The Council is keeping us imprisoned not only from the Outlands, but from something more. Something bigger.” He focused his attention back upon the piece before him, acting as though this was already confirmed information—something I should’ve already known. His expression remained unfazed as he returned to hammering.

Shocked as I was by his words, I wasn’t as shocked as I might’ve been. Deep down I always knew they were hiding something from us. After visiting the Outlands, news like this would never surprise me again. After last night, the cracks of curiosity that had always existed in my mind were now deepening. Old habits and preconceived notions, however, can encase one’s thoughts with ironclad skepticism.

 
“But why would they do such a thing? There’s nothing beyond the Edge. Nothing,” I said, but then hated myself for repeating the very words my mother had forced upon me time and time again.

Xander shook his head. “You of all people should not be fooled by their lies.” Putting down his hammer, he regarded me seriously. “They’re keeping us trapped inside the walls of the city
and
the Outlands. City Prosper is content with this because none is the wiser. You cannot want what you do not know. Allowing the citizens this knowledge is the Council’s greatest fear.”

 
I bit my lip as I tried to process what was just said. “The Council wasn’t always corrupt,” I responded softly. “The Elders, they founded Prosper with good intentions. Surely
they
were not so power hungry to deceive us in such a way. They claimed they were trying to protect us.”
Though protect us from what?
The worried thought worked itself forward.

The piece Xander was holding glowed beneath his dirty blacksmith’s glove. “There were but a small few who believed in the good cause, but all has been lost to the past. Good intentions can pave a road to reining chaos if backed by a Council rife with malevolence. Rulers are only powerful when they have those to rule over. If they have nothing, then they become nothing.”

His words absorbed into me slowly, my veins chilled to ice.
What lay beyond the Edge?

The situation was so much bigger than even I imagined.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“
We
, do nothing.
You
make sure to survive the Barrage.”

Crossing my arms, I stared at him hard. “So you’re allowed to throw your life away for a greater purpose, and I’m not?”

“I never said I would be throwing my life away. I plan on keeping it as long as I can.”

Xander was being even more difficult than usual this morning . . . .

Taking a resounding breath I continued, “So tell me what you’re planning. You owe me that much.” I hoped my voice sounded more firm than I felt.

But Xander shook his head. He turned, his apathetic eyes now sharp. “The answer is
no
. It will always be
no
—I will not have you involved.”

His eyes softened when he noticed my wounded expression. He sighed. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t intend to be so harsh.” He directed his attention to the other side of the shop. “Since your armor is finished, I would suggest you try it on. We only have a week remaining.”

My pride was still wounded from his inability to trust me, but I took a deep breath, calming myself. “Thank you. For helping with my armor, that is.” I picked up my breastplate, feeling its sturdy weight. “Though I do want to carve something, a design perhaps, onto its surface. You suppose the Magistrate will allow it?”

“It depends. Carving the severed head of Scottie Briggins onto your armor will not be too well-received.”

“As tempting as that is,” I chuckled, “I was hoping for something a little more subtle.”

He shrugged, his eyebrows rising with his shoulders in a posture that said it didn’t matter to him.

Laying my breastplate down, I hopped from the table and walked to the opposite side of the shop, searching for Geri. “Can you program Geri into etching mode? I’d like—”

My eyes widened when I finally caught sight of the robot and what it was ‘tinkering’ with. I spun, glaring at Xander. “
What
is it doing with my axes?”

“Upgrading them.” Xander didn’t even look at me when he said it.

I leaned across the cold surface of the table. “I’m sorry, but that still doesn’t answer my question . . . . It’s doing
what
?” I threw my hands into the air, not waiting for a reply. “You helping me with my armor was already too much. But now? My axes too? Could not bear having no part in it? Could you, Xander?” My chilled veins were beginning to thaw. And fast.

“
This
,” He held up the piece of metal he was holding—what he had been working on this entire time. “Is a shield. A shield I plan to integrate onto one of your axes.” He gestured towards Geri and to the axe it was holding. “I’ll have it finished by the afternoon. After that I need you to start practicing with both your armor and axes to get the feel of them. We’re running out of time.”

I cleared my throat and approached him from the other side of the table. “I do not believe I heard you clearly. You’re putting a
shield
on
my
axe?” Surely he felt my anger brimming though my posture alone.

Xander nodded like this wasn’t a problem.

“And when did you decide this for me? How will that even work? It sounds ridiculous.”

“Here, look.” He dropped what he was doing and approached me. “It’ll be a removable shield. One that you can lock into place and remove easily.”

My brow narrowed. “And that sounds . . . against code.”

“It very likely is,” he said, walking over and reaching to take an axe from Geri. “There’ll be a lot of designs that will be pushing the limits of the Law. They cannot disqualify everyone. I’d rather you have some form of protection than be completely open to attacks.”

Placing the axe length-wise across the shield he pushed firmly, locking them together, a vein rising in his forearm as he did so. And walking to my side, he demonstrated to me how to do the same. I narrowed my eyes, but still took the axe and still-warm shield combination over into my left hand.

“This,” He pointed to a slide release just beneath the handle. “will disengage the locking mechanism. The lock will be impervious to any obstruction that may find its way inside, such as dirt or sand.” He paused briefly. “The handle of the axe is also the handle of the shield. I wouldn’t recommend disengaging the axe unless you absolutely have to.”

I ran my hand across the edge of the shield and drew my fingers back quickly, realizing he had exposed the sharpened blade of the axe over the rim.

“Be careful with that. I’m sure you can imagine how that will be effective.”

I cringed slightly as some horrible images came to mind: Sweeping the shield out before me in an arc, slashing deep through my opponent’s skin . . . .

Swallowing hard, I ran my fingers across the handle and released the lever. The axe fell from the shield and easily clicked back into place. Testing its weight, it felt very strong yet light enough so that someone such as myself, with my build, would have no problem manipulating it.