The MORE Trilogy (67 page)

“Gone?”

“Gone.”
 

“Okay.” Ava sighed, closing her eyes again and ignoring her persistent headache. “I’ll try.”

In the end, it wasn’t as difficult as Ava thought it would be. It only took about half an hour before she was able to make the chicken disappear . . . and reappear . . . and finally transform it into a football, of all things.
 

She found she could only manifest things she had personal experience with—things she could imagine in precise detail. She tried, for example, to manifest a copy of
Moby Dick
, but although the cover looked realistic, the pages were covered with gibberish.
 

It excited her, though, to explore her new abilities. In addition to the manifesting, her telekinesis had strengthened as much as her body, and Ava’s control had grown exponentially. By midafternoon, she found herself standing in the middle of the training field, weight blocks and pieces of the obstacle course whirling in the air around her. She laughed, her arms spread wide, manifesting balls and chairs and whatever popped into her mind. Her gift surged forth, and it felt like it swept out to encompass everything around her.
 

“Ava!” Caleb shouted.

She was vaguely aware of a pulsing in her head—the headache wouldn’t go away, but she couldn’t be bothered with it. She spotted a bench across the field and picked it up into the air, stacking it on top of a pyramid of weight blocks. She heard a rattling sound and realized the fence surrounding the training field was vibrating—the roof of the common building, no, the building
itself
shaking as well.

“Ava, stop!” Caleb ducked under a flying rock and ran toward her, but she barely noticed.
 

The ground quaked beneath her feet, and she looked down in surprise as a narrow fissure opened up beneath her. Power rushed through her, lifting her off the ground, her toes barely brushing the grass as the earth cracked beneath them.
 

Caleb slammed into her, grabbing her around the hips and tackling her to the ground.
 

With her concentration broken, the blocks and boulders fell to the ground and the tremors stopped abruptly. Ava’s breath grew harsh in her ears—now that everything else was silent—her chest heaving with every inhale, her skin tingling with the aftershocks of her power.

“Holy—” She sat up, untangling herself from Caleb. “Did you see that? It was incredible!”

“Ava—”

“I felt so amazing . . . so alive—”

“Ava!”

She blinked at Caleb, confused at his look of concern, a similar expression on Audrey’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you all right?” Audrey asked.

“Of course I am. I’m great! I don’t understand—”

Caleb cut her off with a look. “Ava, look around.”
 

She did, then, getting to her feet and turning in a slow circle. The training field was . . . well, a mess, actually—rocks, balls, and various other things were scattered haphazardly around, the bench overturned and lying on a broken section of fence. She spotted Emma watching from a distance, half hiding behind a storage shed; the shed itself was slightly crooked, one wall crumpled by a wayward rock. Her eyes dropped to the cracks in the ground, for the first time realizing the extent of the damage she’d wrought.
 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I didn’t realize.”

“You’re bleeding,” Caleb said quietly, handing her a handkerchief.
 

She pressed it to her nose, a headache suddenly pounding behind her temples. “I don’t feel so good,” she mumbled, dropping down to sit on the grass while she put her head between her knees.
 

Gideon and Tyra burst through the gate, followed by a half dozen armed Guardians.

“What in the world happened?” Gideon shouted as he stepped around an upended weight block with its corner stuck into the ground. “We thought it was an earthquake at first.”

“No, no earthquake,” Audrey said. “Believe it or not, that was Ava.”

“I’m sorry.” Ava started to get up but sat down heavily again, overcome by dizziness. “I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Gideon asked, crouching down next to Caleb.

“I’m not sure.”
 

“It’s nothing,” Ava said, rubbing at her temples. “It’s normal. Emma said it’s probably an aftereffect of the block. It’ll be fine.”

Emma had finally left her hiding place and stood on the edge of the circle, and they all looked to her for confirmation. “It should go away as she gains more control,” she said.

“See?” Ava tried to get up again, leaning heavily on Caleb. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just need more practice.”

“I think that’s enough practice for the day,” Caleb said, wrapping an arm around her waist.
 

“But I should clean up—”

“It can wait,” he said.
 

Gideon reached out to touch her shoulder. “Caleb’s right. You should get something to eat and rest. We can deal with all of this tomorrow.”

At the mention of food, Ava’s stomach growled. The few bites of chicken had long since worn off and she was tired and hungry, so she didn’t put up a fuss. She let Caleb take her into the kitchen, fix her a sandwich with a side of R-cubes, and tuck her into bed.

She fell asleep almost immediately, too exhausted to notice when he left the room.

“Got a minute?”
 

When Gideon looked up from his computer, Caleb entered his office, taking in the sparse furnishings and simple metal table and chairs with a disinterested glance.

“How’s Ava?” Gideon asked, pushing the laptop aside and folding his hands over a pile of maps and papers on the tabletop.

Caleb rubbed at his eyes and drew a heavy breath. “I don’t know.”
 

“Did the R-cubes help?”

“She said they did.”

“But?”

“I think she was lying. Or she didn’t want me to worry.”

Gideon waved toward an empty chair, and Caleb hesitated only a moment before sitting down.
 

He was tired, he had to admit. The past few days—weeks, really—had taken a toll that was catching up to him. He never thought he’d be sitting with his father, of all people, about to pour out his thoughts and worries. But really, there were very few options. Tiernan. No, not going to happen. Tiernan wasn’t really a talk-out-your-feelings kind of guy. Emma thought he was overreacting and said Ava would be fine. She just needed time. It made sense, but he couldn’t help worrying. Still, he wasn’t exactly sure how to start the conversation.

“She’s very powerful.”
 

Gideon huffed out a laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. From the state of the training field, I’d say she’s one of the most powerful people I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot.”

Caleb cleared his throat and scooted closer to the desk. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’ve seen it all, pretty much. But have you ever . . . it seems like there’s something . . . 
wrong
, doesn’t it?”

“You mean the nosebleed.”

“It’s more than that,” Caleb replied, unsure exactly what he meant. “There’s just something wrong. Her gift—it feels . . . too much, maybe? I don’t even know.”

Gideon eyed Caleb. “You’ve bonded with her.”

Caleb flushed, not meeting his eyes. “To an extent, yes.” This was not a conversation he wanted to have with his estranged father. Still, he couldn’t see an alternative.
 

“And her gift feels wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Caleb stood up quickly, the chair scooting back along the floor in his haste. “It feels . . . different.”

“Well, that’s understandable. The block—”

“It’s not just the block,” he said. “If it was only that, I wouldn’t be so concerned.” He paced a few steps and back again. “She got a headache.”

Gideon sat back, crossing his arms. “Really.”

“I think it was worse than she let on. And there are the nosebleeds.”

“Nose
bleeds
? As in more than one?”

Caleb nodded. “One when Emma initially lifted the block. Another today.”

Gideon seemed to consider that as he ran a finger idly over a map on the table. “What does Emma say? She’s young, but she really has more experience with this than any of us.”

“She’s lifted other blocks and says it’s normal.”

“You disagree.”

Caleb sat back down and adjusted his chair so he could lean forward on the table. “What do you think? Like you said, you’ve met a lot of people—Race, Half-Breeds—have any of them had headaches after using their gifts? Nosebleeds?”

Gideon puffed out a breath. “Well, no. But Ava’s kind of a unique situation.” He propped his elbows on the table, his fingers laced against his lips. “If she’s part of this Rogue conspiracy, basically bred to be some kind of super Race, it could account for the problems she’s having.”

Caleb’s heart sank. It was what he’d been thinking as well but was too afraid to put it into words. “You think she’s in danger?”

“It’s too soon to say that, I think. Maybe Emma’s right. It could pass.”

“So what do we do?”

He turned back to his laptop and clicked a few keys. “I’ve put out some feelers. There are some out there who might know what’s going on—or at least more than I do. We can run some tests.”

“She’ll love that.”

“Well, she’ll love this even more,” Gideon said with a wry twist of his mouth. “Like I said, we can run some tests, but we’re not set up to do much more than the basics here. If she doesn’t improve, you’ll have to go to someone with more resources.”

It was irritating how Gideon kept putting Caleb’s fears in front of him—stating what he already knew but didn’t want to face. “You mean the Council. Ava will never agree to that.”

“She might not have a choice.” Gideon stood up, rounded the table, and leaned on the edge next to Caleb. “Look, you don’t have to do anything right now. We can help her train, keep an eye on her, like I said—run a few tests and see if we can figure out the headaches. Hopefully, in time, she’ll be fine.”

“And then there are the Rogues.”

Gideon laughed humorlessly. “And then there are the Rogues. Yes. But, given Ava’s little demonstration, it seems we have a pretty good weapon in our corner if it comes to that.”

“She’s not a weapon,” Caleb said with an irritated glance.

“I know she’s important to you, son—
Caleb
,” he said when Caleb stiffened. “But given what you’ve told me about the Rogue plan—and seeing with my own eyes what she can do?” He exhaled heavily, a concerned frown on his face.
 

“I’m beginning to think a weapon is
exactly
what she is.”

Chapter 14

Ava wasn’t certain what woke her. She jerked a little, disoriented for a moment until the feeling of warmth along her back and the arm wrapped around her waist reminded her of where she was. Something was off, though, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Slipping quietly from the cozy bed, she tucked the blankets back around Caleb and went to the window to peer through the metal blinds.

Night had fallen, the full moon high in the sky and casting the area in a cool, blue glow. Ava’s eyes swept the grounds, searching for—she didn’t really know, but something. She felt unsettled, waiting . . . 

There.

Movement off to the left caught her attention, and she had to move over to the edge of the window and press her cheek flat against the wall to see what it was.

“Emma?” she whispered.
 

What is Emma doing outside at this time of night?

Ava watched the girl walk purposefully into the forest until she lost sight of her in the trees. Biting her lip, Ava felt for her gift, her instincts on high alert and urging her to act. To do something. In a quiet rush, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed her coat, and left the room, with Caleb sleeping peacefully behind her.
 

She hurried out of the building, no one awake to intercept her now that the immediate Rogue threat had passed, and jogged in Emma’s direction, entering the forest where she’d seen the girl disappear. She kept to a narrow path, unsure what else to do—unsure what she was doing at all, if she were to be perfectly honest—simply following the flutter of Emma’s gift, which felt familiar now that Ava had become so intimately acquainted with it.