Chapter Thirty-One
Yun
Well, not having that much stuff made it easier to pack everything.
Kenyon had brought me a number of suitcases, all appearing brand new and worth way more than anything I had to put inside them.
Instead, I’d just ensured everything I had was clean and placed it back into the bag I’d brought with me.
It was easy since I hadn’t really put any of it away.
“You sad to be leaving?” Kenyon asked from the doorway of my room.
“Maybe sad to be losing out on the nice bathtub, but otherwise?” I shrugged. “One place is pretty much like the next.”
“You didn’t get accustomed at all to being here?” His voice sounded almost hurt by my disinterest.
I turned and sat on the edge of the bed, willing to meet his gaze to have this talk. “You don’t get it. Espers settle down, but guides? We get moved around more. Easy come, easy go.”
“Not exactly. I mean, this is just a temporary relocation while we train. After that, we’re coming right back here.”
After that.
Such a simple phrase that meant so much more. That was training, that was The Pitt, that was my biggest nightmare. He was assuming a lot, that we’d survive, that they’d still want me at the end.
That I wasn’t headed toward something that would end up killing me.
The truth was, none of us knew that. None of us could say what would happen, and I didn’t know if it was experience or paranoia, but I couldn’t imagine returning.
The truth was that no matter how much I wanted this, my history had taught me never to get too comfortable in any one place.
“Why do you look like you don’t believe me?”
I hated how Kenyon looked almost insulted by my suspicion. It went to show how different we really were, how different our lives had been. He couldn’t imagine not making it back.
Truth be told, where I would go afterward was the least of my worries. Could something kill me? Sure. I could get hit by a car crossing the road tomorrow.
That wasn’t the biggest of my fears.
“I just don’t like getting ahead of myself.”
“How is it getting ahead of yourself? Just see it as a vacation. You pack up the things you need, you go, you come back. It’s not like you joined us just for this mission. We didn’t even know about this mission when you joined.”
“That might be true, but I just have this feeling. Call it intuition, maybe. I’ve never stayed anywhere that long.” The part that I didn’t utter out loud was that no one had ever wanted me around that long.
No, that wasn’t entirely fair. There were times when espers wanted me to stay, when I fought it the entire time. There were times when I ran from the very start, when no matter how much they wanted me to let them in, I couldn’t.
How many times that Kadian told me to give in?
He’d sworn by espers, told me I needed to accept my place, that I was only hurting myself by fighting, but good advice was rarely easily taken. It didn’t matter if he said people were safe, my body and mind never truly believed it.
I knew exactly what any of them could turn into at any time.
“Have you ever stayed at a place like this before?” I asked to change the subject.
Kenyon sat on my bed, kicking his feet out in front of him like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“A few times. Never for anything this big, and not for a long time. Espers usually train in groups like this right after they turn. There are a few places across the globe that deal with newly changed espers.”
“Like Ruby?” I asked, the name every civilian was familiar with.
He nodded. “Sure, like Ruby. They’re all named after gems, but Ruby is the one most people know. It’s the celebrity location that gets all the news.”
“Where did you train?”
“Well, Ruby is for Rank A. The Guild likes A-Ranks because they look pretty on camera and seem flashy without scaring the normies. Rank-S espers usually go to Diamond. That’s where I went.”
“The others, too?”
“Most of us, yeah. Not Shear, though.”
“Why not Shear?”
“He went to Obsidian.” I hadn’t heard of that one, and it must have shown on my face because Kenyon kept speaking. “Obsidian is a small training facility in Washington. Special cases go there.”
“Why is Shear special?” As soon as I asked, I almost laughed at my own question. Obviously, Shear wasn’t normal—anyone who spoke to him would know that much. “I mean, I get that he’s different, but I don’t really understand why.”
Kenyon rambled, and I got the sense that he probably didn’t know how to stop himself. Kenyon seemed like the type to just keep his mouth moving no matter what. It was probably why such stupid things flew out of it so often.
“Most espers change after puberty. A few change during puberty, and they can change all the way until they’re elderly, but the average age is around nineteen or twenty. He, on the other hand, never changed. Or, if he did, there’s no signs of it.”
“What are you talking about? Every esper has to change into one. And it’s not like it’s that hidden when it happens.
” I thought about the fevers, the aches, all the signs that usually landed an esper in the hospital when it happened.
And all of that didn’t include the new skills that often showed immediately.
It was pretty easy to tell an esper had awakened when they suddenly started raining down fire every time they got mad.
“Exactly. As far as I know, Shear has always been an esper. It wasn’t until he started talking that his parents realized something was weird.
He knew things that he shouldn’t, and once he had language, he started communicating mentally with people.
The guess now is that he was born an esper.
It could have happened sometime when he was still an infant, but that’s just about as weird.
Carter says that’s why he’s so fucked up.
Because he didn’t grow up normally, because he never learned the things most kids learned. He was five when he went to Obsidian.”
“What’s Obsidian like?” I tried the picture a child, almost a baby, trying to survive with other espers. It seemed cruel to yank him away from his family, from everything he knew, from every sense of support and safety he had.
Was that pity I felt?
Maybe it helped me to understand the strange man a little better. No one who grew up like that could grow up normally.
“No idea. Obsidian is the sort of place people only go when they have to, and they don’t talk about it afterward.
Shear isn’t a big sharing sort of person, in case you didn’t notice.
He’s been pretty hush-hush about his time there.
” He paused for a moment, a rare look of concern on his normally happy face.
“He gets called back there usually once a year or so, and whenever that happens, he gets even more quiet. Afterward, he’s like a different person for a week or so.
Nothing is physically wrong with him—I’d be able to tell—but he isn’t himself.
All I can say for sure is that I’m glad I’ve never gone to Obsidian. ”
I frowned as I considered that, as I thought about the places these men did go. It was crazy to me to think that there was anything that would frighten them. They laughed their way through dungeons, through almost certain death, but a training facility could get that look on their faces?
Kenyon got up with a quick jump, as though he’d just realized he’d probably said way too much. “Well, we’re supposed to catch the plane in about two hours, so finish up. They feed us on the plane usually, but it’s not like, good food, so maybe we’ll drive through somewhere first.”
With that, he breezed out of my room, leaving me there to look around and wonder if I’d ever make it back here.
And accept the fact that I really hoped I did…
What a strange feeling.