The Rogue Knight (21 page)

C
HAPTER

 21 

MORGASSA

“T
his is kind of like talking to a dead guy,” Dalton said. “I already mourned for you. I figured I'd lost you just like everything else. Even if you had survived, I knew the chances of seeing you again were basically zero.”

Dalton and Cole sat together on one of the sofas. Jace slept on the other sofa, face against the cushions. Skye still hadn't returned.

“I could have died,” Cole said. “The sky castles almost got me. And I thought we were goners when we fought Carnag.”

“I can't believe the adventures you've had,” Dalton said. “Sambria sounds crazy! I thought I had it bad, but compared to you, my life has been calm. Since getting sorted at Junction City, I've worked at the Silver Lining and practiced making seemings. Part of me still can't believe you found me.”

“I told you I'd come,” Cole reminded him.

“I know,” Dalton said. “I believed you'd try. It just seemed impossible. Even so, a little piece of me thought you might show up one day. I swore to myself that if you found me, I'd run off. That's part of the reason I kept track of the secret passages.”

“You haven't heard about Jenna since Junction City?” Cole asked.

“I've hardly seen anybody from home since then,” Dalton said. “I don't know where they sorted her. I've only seen the four other kids they sent to Elloweer—and it's been weeks since we split up. None of the others are here in Merriston.”

“I saw Jill Davis in Carthage,” Cole said. “She told me how to find you.”

“Really?” Dalton asked. “How is she?”

“Alive,” Cole said. “Kind of like you—doing her job as a slave in a confidence lounge. She didn't want me to try to rescue her. She was scared the resistance couldn't protect her.”

“She might be right,” Dalton said. “She's probably safer where she is.”

“Do you wish I hadn't come for you?” Cole asked.

“No way,” Dalton replied with enthusiasm. “Jill might be safer working at the confidence lounge, but that doesn't mean she's better off. There's more to life than safety. It was risky for me to leave, but if I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have come. Besides, what was the alternative? Stay here as a slave the rest of my life?”

“I don't know,” Cole said heavily. “I've gotten you into trouble before. Look . . . I'm sorry I brought us to the haunted house. I'm sorry I wanted to see the basement. When we were going down the stairs, you heard them lock the door. You tried to warn me. I should have listened.”

“Not your fault,” Dalton said. “It was dumb to go into a stranger's basement, but you weren't the only one who volunteered. I was curious too. We should have known something was off just because they
had
a basement.”

“What do you mean?” Cole asked.

“Who in our neighborhood had a basement?” Dalton asked. “You didn't. I didn't. Do you know anybody who did?”

“I never thought about that,” Cole said. “We used to have a basement when we lived in Boise.”

“Not that basements are evil,” Dalton said. “Just out of the ordinary in Mesa. I noticed the weirdness of having a basement, and I knew it was dumb to go into a stranger's house, but there were lots of kids, so I figured nothing bad could happen. By the time I heard the door lock, it was too late. Once we went down the stairs, we were sunk. If we had gone back up to try the door, they probably would have just sprung the trap earlier.”

“Maybe,” Cole said. “But going to the spook alley was my idea. I convinced you. Jenna, too.”

“She went with a bunch of her friends,” Dalton said. “She might have gone whether or not you invited her. Don't worry—she's probably got a cushy job. She can shape. They'll treat her well.”

“Until they start experimenting on her,” Cole said. “Quima, the shapecrafter lady, made it sound like they had more in store for you guys than just stripping your powers away. But she was pretty bitter about us wrecking her plans. She might have just been trying to scare me.”

“I can't believe we're part of a revolution,” Dalton said. “The High Shaper is really powerful. The resistance will need a lot of support to take him down.”

“They'll get it once everyone finds out about Mira and her sisters,” Cole said. “If we can overthrow the High King, we'll also free the slaves. That includes you and all our friends.”

“Even if the revolution works, we may not get to go home. If a Wayminder sends us to Arizona, we'll get drawn back into the Outskirts. Plus, nobody back home will remember us. Our families will look at us like strangers.”

“That's what I heard too,” Cole said. “It could be a sneaky way to keep people from trying to leave.”

“You think they're lying?”

“I don't know. Mira seems to think that's how it works too. True or not, there has to be a way around it. We'll talk to the best Wayminders. We'll find their Grand Shaper. Shapecraft might even help us. If it can mess with the shaping power, maybe we can use it to get home and stay there.”

Dalton shook his head. “That would be amazing,” he said. “I guess I kind of gave up hope that could ever happen. Home felt so far away. But now, seeing you, it seems possible again.” Cole knew exactly what he meant. It was hard after being back with Dalton not to focus one hundred percent on finding the others from his world and escaping. But Mira had been there for him over and over—he couldn't just walk away while the Rogue Knight held her captive. Besides, without Mira's help and connections, who knew how far he and Dalton would get? No Mira would have meant no Skye and no Joe. Without them, Cole still wouldn't know where to look for Dalton, let alone how to rescue him.

“This place could be worse, at least,” Dalton said. “Not that I want to stay,” he added hurriedly. “But it's cool to make seemings. Much cooler than anything I did back home.”

“Fun for you since you're a wizard,” Cole said.

“You brought that Jumping Sword to life,” Dalton said. “That isn't supposed to happen. You've got power too.”

“I don't know,” Cole said. “That one burst of power is all I've ever done. I can't make it happen again. Declan, the Grand Shaper of Sambria, thought I'd have abilities someday. I figured when things changed, I'd know. How was it for you? Did it come all at once?”

“It's hard to explain,” Dalton said. “I never made a seeming until they started training me. My power works like active imagining. You know how you can picture stuff in your head?”

“Like a hamburger?” Cole asked. “I miss hamburgers.”

A big, juicy burger appeared on the coffee table, ketchup and molten cheese oozing out from under the top bun. It looked completely tangible. Cole could almost taste it.

“That's just mean,” Cole said.

The cheeseburger vanished.

“They had me picture stuff in my mind,” Dalton said. “They pushed me to see it really vividly, all the little details. Then I was supposed to picture it outside of my mind.”

“And it just worked?” Cole asked.

“Not at first,” Dalton said. “But I would get little flickers, so they knew I had potential. You have to picture it just right, and push a certain way, like flexing a muscle in your mind. It takes a lot of concentration. After you make the seeming, you have to keep concentrating, or it goes away. Unless you make it permanent, which I haven't even begun to figure out yet.”

Cole pictured a break-dancing toddler. He imagined the little guy spinning on his back, doing the worm, whirling on his head. The toddler wore only a diaper. Cole felt like he could see him clearly. But he didn't know where to begin to make the little guy appear on the coffee table.

“I'm trying to do it,” Cole said. “Where do you push from?”

“It's hard to explain,” Dalton said. “Think of it like you're trying to make yourself actually see it with your eyes. That's how I started. Then when it works a little, you begin to learn how you really need to push. After you figure out how to push, it takes practice to build up the strength to push harder. I doubt I'll ever be able to push like Skye.”

“You haven't been here very long,” Cole said. “You'll keep getting better.”

“I can't believe how well she did Gustus,” Dalton said. “It's hard to make a human illusion move right unless you anchor it to a person. If you tie it to a person, the seeming smiles when the person smiles, walks when the person walks. When you try to do it yourself, stuff moves, but it usually looks wrong. You forget to make them breathe. The joints don't adjust quite right. The feet sink through the floor or float a little. You start to feel like a clumsy puppeteer. Not only was Skye doing three seemings at once, she made a fourth unanchored seeming walk through a scrubber and appear totally natural.”

“She's good,” Cole said. “You should have seen her dazzle show.”

Dalton gave Cole a shy glance. “She's not bad-looking, either.”

“I guess,” Cole said. “But she's pretty old. Like an aunt or something. Don't tell me you're in love with her.”

Dalton looked away. “She's just, you know, really nice and cute and talented.”

“This is like Miss Montgomery!” Cole exclaimed. Dalton had harbored a serious crush on their third-grade teacher. “Are you going to write her a poem?”

“That poem wasn't for Miss Montgomery,” Dalton said.

“That's right,” Cole remembered. “You used her real name. Linda.”

“I was just practicing,” Dalton professed. “The name was a coincidence.”

“Was it a coincidence how you hung around after class with lots of extra questions?”

“Those were legitimate math questions,” Dalton protested.

“Maybe you could get some shaping tutoring from Skye,” Cole suggested.

Dalton huffed and shook his head. “A lady can be pretty without me falling in love with her. You're right, she's like an aunt.”

“A pretty aunt,” Cole teased.

“Forget I said anything.”

Cole could tell his friend was really uncomfortable. “Okay. New subject. I guess it's hard to do voices? You know, when you make a seeming?”

“Sounds are tricky,” Dalton said, seizing the new topic like a life preserver. “I can't do them yet. Same with smells. They should work the same way as visuals, but most of us find them way harder.”

Refocusing, Cole tried to force his break-dancing toddler into existence. He strained to actually see him instead of just imagine him in his mind. He envisioned details—rustling diapers, wispy curls, pink skin with chubby little folds of baby fat. Nothing materialized.

“Your face is turning red,” Dalton said.

Cole laughed. “I'm not sure seemings are my thing.”

“I'd rather have a Jumping Sword,” Dalton said. “Those sound cool. I wish I could see one.”

“They're awesome when they work,” Cole said. “Skye stashed them somewhere this morning. She didn't want them to get confiscated at the Silver Lining, and she didn't want to leave them at her mom's place.”

Stretching, Dalton looked around. “If I have to be stuck in the Outskirts, I'm glad you're with me. I mean, I'm not glad you're stuck here, but, you know—”

“I get it,” Cole said. “I feel the same way. The thought of you and Jenna out there someplace helped keep me going. I don't know how I would have been if I was here alone. Less brave, probably.”

Jace rolled over. “
Less
brave? You were already breaking records!”

“I thought you were asleep,” Cole said.

Jace groaned. “How can I sleep with you two babbling nonstop? Tell me more about the food you miss. Is it peanut butter most? Or cereal?”

“You wouldn't mock it if you'd tried it,” Dalton said.

“Maybe,” Jace said. “What are hamburgers?”

Dalton made a perfect burger appear on the table.