Water (6 page)
"Yes, Kaitlyn. Me, you, and very few others."
I looked back down at my cut. It didn’t magically heal completely, but my skin was slowly knitting itself back together. It would be smoothed over by morning. It could be possible.
Possible? Hell, it was happening before my very eyes. Perhaps the rest of what he was saying had some truth to it.
Cato’s voice lowered, and a shadow crossed his face. "There are downfalls, however. This is one of only a handful of places around the world where we can feed off of the earth. Everywhere else, the earth feeds off of us. It takes an incredible amount of energy for us to be anywhere but here."
I shook my head. "I don't think I've ever been to a place like this, and I‘ve never had a problem."
"That is not necessarily true. You have been on iron pills your entire life. You drink a lot of caffeine and energy drinks - sometimes just to get through a normal day. Not only that, but I imagine you sleep often, much more than the average eight hours a night."
I slowly conceded his points, nodding only slightly for him to continue.
"I know, Kaitlyn, because that is what life is like for me, outside of here." Cato slipped the last line in under his breath. "It gets worse, though. The energy that you exude into the elements can sometimes cause problems. You have no doubt experienced natural disasters around the world. It is not just that you are unlucky, but you caused them. That avalanche was very much you. You have to be taught control. That is what we intend to do with you here."
"Wait. That's not possible. That means I was responsible for what must be hundreds of deaths."
Cato didn't respond.
I raised my voice. "Hello? Did you hear what I said? You're wrong."
He lowered his voice, "Kaitlyn, do you really believe the tornados, floods, and hurricanes were just coincidences? No one has that much bad luck."
"So what, you knew and you just let it continue to happen?"
"As it turns out, had events been handled any other way, there was potential for even more destruction."
I felt sick to my stomach as his words sank in. He was right, no one had that bad of luck – except everyone who lost their life during those disasters. My stomach dropped straight to the floor. "I killed them?"
Redemption
Cato looked down, speaking softly. "Maybe indirectly. You were in India when the cyclone hit a few years back, correct?"
"I was in Orissa on a photography assignment." I said. "They have incredible wildlife sanctuaries."
A low grumbling of thunder sounded in the distance.
Cato cocked his ear as if judging the intensity of the oncoming squall, but his eyes were on me. "A storm is moving in. Time to batten up the hatches." He gestured to the open windows. "We should continue our conversation another time." He took my arm in his, leaving no room for argument as he pulled me back toward the door.
"Beautiful tigers. The locals loved them. I stayed with a family who had a young son. He liked to paint the tigers. They speak English pretty well there, you know." I was babbling, acutely aware of the fire inside me, growing with the approaching storm. The thunder got louder and rain began to fall. "That little boy, Adil, he was killed by the cyclone."
Cato retrieved a walkie-talkie that was clipped to his back pocket, never letting go of my arm. The walkie-talkie clicked. "Get Micah in here, quick."
"Adil means 'sincere'. That’s what his mother told me." The wind picked up outside and the rain fell harder. "At the funeral."
I stopped walking, breaking free of Cato's grip, "He would be alive now if I never took that assignment."
Cato reach for me again, "It wasn’t your fault."
"I know." I slapped away his hand. The storm softened a little outside and everything went silent. I whispered, "It was your fault."
My insides hummed with energy as grief turned to anger. I focused, making an effort to channel the power and tune in to the storm. It was chaotic; waves buzzed out and were pulled back, like the surf on a rocky coastline, only not nearly so predictable. Manipulating the energy came easy to me, as if I'd done it my whole life. Probably have, just not so…intentional.
I raised my pitch and synchronized with the elements of air and water. The storm raced in at full force. Windows blew all the way open, shattering against the walls. Hair whipped around my face, impeding my vision, but my gaze never left the old man. He tried side-stepping around me, looking anxiously at the door. He wasn't getting off the hook that easy. I closed in on him, grabbing his arm. A twist of his wrist at a painful upward angle turned him around. I stepped on the back of his knee, forcing him to the floor. "Why didn’t you get me before now? All of this could have been avoided! You knew, and you just let me float from place to place, destroying lives!"
Cato yelled into the walkie-talkie with his free hand, "Hurry! Send Micah!" He looked up at me, still yelling over the noise of the storm, "Control yourself, Kaitlyn! Calm down! We weren't sure until a few years ago. A Gaias powers don't come until later in life. I can explain it all!"
"Explain? It’s too late for explanations! It won’t bring Adil back, it won’t bring my parents back, it won’t help anything!" The hard rain pelted our faces, pouring through the open window. Loose papers took off, flying everywhere.
Suddenly the wind shifted. I looked over my shoulder to see the large double door fly open. Micah stood in the entrance. I let loose a growl so shocking that deep down I thought it had to be the thunder. "I’m not finished here." My voice boomed in his direction. He just looked at me, stunned. I expanded my frequency, matching that of the wind, and forced it toward the intruder. It shifted again, slamming the door in Micah’s face.
Cato was still bent over in front of me. Hail fell now. The large room echoed with each piece of ice that hit the roof. Wind came through the open windows and skylight, powerful enough to send glass and the smaller books soaring across the room. Adrenaline raced through me at a level I hadn't known existed. I was swept up in a cycle of more and more anger, more energy, more power. I let go of Cato and he stood unsteadily, facing me. The storm picked up larger books now, making them dangerous missiles shooting through the room either breaking or knocking down everything else. And I stood still. The storm avoided me. Cato wasn’t as safe. Books constantly barraged him, slamming into his head, his chest and stomach. The thought of Cato hurt by his own precious books made me smile.
"Are you close enough to nature, now?" I screamed at him. "Do you think this is how Adil felt in the cyclone?"
"Stop her!" Cato yelled to someone behind me. It didn’t matter. All of my attention was on Cato. I felt invincible. Nobody could hurt me now. An especially large chunk of hail flew through an open window, pelting Cato in the back of the head. Trickles of blood seeped from various wounds, mixing with the rain, giving his skin an eerie red tint.
I was so focused on Cato, I didn’t react when someone stepped in between us. Micah moved directly in front of me, so close that he was protected from the makeshift missiles. He was yelling at me, shaking me by the shoulders. There was an annoying buzzing in my head. In response, the storm grew stronger and the noise inside my brain was drowned out by the sound of wind, rain, and hail. I laughed.
Micah's hands moved from my shoulders to my waist. Our eyes met; his jaw line was tense, determined. His hands tightened around my sides, and he pulled me into him. My chin lifted; his lips crushed my own.
The same static shock I felt earlier was there again; only now ten times stronger. It fizzled throughout my veins, causing my muscles to contract, raising my body temperature until I was sure I would burst into flames.
The storm raged around us, and Micah fed off of it. His intensity grew and grew, matching the strength of the storm. I didn’t have time to understand. I might have expected a fight, but not this. His insistent tongue forced its way into my mouth and he eagerly delivered sharp bites to my lips. His hold around my waist was tight, painful, and the more I tried to pull away, the more vigorous he became. The wind swirled around us and its attempts to come between us just pressed us closer together.
Realizing he was turning even fiercer than the storm, I relented. I willed my body to relax into his arms, coaxing him away from brutality. The hail stopped. Micah loosened his hold around my waist, but didn’t completely let go. The fizzling inside of me settled into a tranquil hum. The wind died down to a mild breeze, caressing our bodies and Micah’s kiss turned gentle, his lips embracing spots bruised by his assault just seconds ago.
Reality rushed back in a way that seemed more brutal than the storm. My anger was focused on Cato, but I was responsible for thousands of deaths and vast amounts of damage as I carelessly pranced around the world. I was a villain, a terrorist. Lex Luthor. Hitler. The Anti-Christ.
I had amazing powers, I had to accept that. But what would they do for me? Look what they had already done. I was a kidnapped orphan, who just finished terrorizing an old man. I pulled away from Micah, wrapping my arms around my waist and crumpling in on myself. I needed redemption. I looked back up at him.
He shook his head and wiped away the wet strands of hair from my face, "This isn’t about you – it is much bigger than that." I think he saw the desperation in my eyes. Wrinkles creased his forehead. "What can I do, what do you need?"
What I needed was to be wanted in a world I no longer felt a part of. More than that, I needed to be desired, loved in spite of my faults. I needed something, or someone, to fill the void that had been empty far too long. I said it as best as I could with three words. "Kiss me again."
He obliged, tentatively brushing his lips across mine. I parted my lips, inviting him in. We were oblivious to the medical staff running in to assist Cato, and to the gasps of terror, or maybe awe, or possibly both, when each new person entered the room. With one arm still around my waist, Micah led me away from the crowd and the disaster I had created, down the length of the house, and into his room.
Divergence
"You ok, old man?" Shawn asked, as he entered Cato's private room.
Cato grimaced as the medics treated lacerations on his forehead, arms, and feet with antiseptic, then mud. "I've had worse, though not in recent years."
Shawn nodded, running his finger over the spines of books on Cato's shelf. "I told you so."
Cato narrowed his eyes at Shawn, "Don't start,
young man
."
Shawn turned abruptly, treating Cato's warning as bait. "You shouldn't have brought her here."
Cato sighed, watching Shawn warily as the medics finished with the last of the bandages, "Would you all give us some privacy?" He removed the blood pressure cuff, "Please – I am fine. I just need to rest."
The medics nodded as they packed up and left, the last one closing the door to leave Cato and Shawn alone.
Cato took a deep breath, preparing for a conversation they've had far too many times. "The doctrine says –"
"I know what the doctrine says," Shawn interrupted. "I was raised on it. But that thing was written a long time ago. Much of what it says doesn't apply to the present."
Cato stood, "The doctrine is not to be questioned! It can and it will apply to us, and everyone that comes after us. It has proven its worth."
Shawn threw his hands up in the air, "Why can't you see how much simpler things would be?"
Cato walked over to Shawn, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Why can't
you
see that this is the only way to maintain balance?" His hand gripped Shawn tighter. "Please, son. The Seven can be miraculous. A Gaia to bring peace, the Ardwyad her protector, and you, her Medwin, to regulate her powers."
Cato stepped away and sat down in his armchair, slowly, "And of course the leader, yours truly, the Rais." He hung his head, and rubbed at his eyes. "My strength is waning, son. I'll need someone to step up soon. A Rais, one powerful enough to control her…" Cato took a deep breath, "…but as the doctrine intends. Deviation leads to devastation."
Shawn turned his back, blocking out the pleas by the man who raised him. "If you just give me a chance to show you. I've begun to acquire the same powers of a Gaia, like you have."
"That takes years, even decades to absorb that kind of power. It has taken me a lifetime, Shawn."
"I've found a place that increases my strength. It allows me to absorb the powers faster."
Cato now looked at Shawn with sad eyes. He had seen contempt for the organization in the boy even in his early days. Cato was mistakenly under the impression he could force change into Shawn. Years and years of working with the boy, educating him on the Seven's history, revealing to him secrets that would have otherwise been lost, and special training sessions he didn't give the other kids. After all of that, they were back at square one. He would make that mistake no longer.
