Chapter 8
I hate them all, they’re monsters.
True monsters.
That poor little boy.
In amongst the gleeful Conclave chatter, a voice breaks through to me.
My own personal monster.
—Can you hear my Father’s thoughts, Theodora?—
Cosmo doesn’t look at me, but I feel the brush of his finger against mine.
—No, nothing—
I’m sure whatever is in Tyrus Drakeward’s mind is repulsive, but I’d rather hear it than be left in the dark.
—Can you read anyone else here?—
I strain my telepathy, but just like the Lumina, it’s currently weak.
The two are entwined.
I catch vague mumbled thoughts that flick on greed and desire, but nothing more.
"The Ambassador's ascension is concluded," Cosmo’s father announces. “We have one more tonight. Roger Cox; can you make your way forward?”
Kayla’s father hurries towards the dais, then bows obsequiously. “Your Eminence, thank you for this honor.”
Tyrus nods at him then looks to Janine.
“This will be the last ascension until our energy cache of new conduits is charged and ready,” she says. “David, bring forward the last vessel.
My heart breaks as a tiny girl is dragged out. She’s a little older than the last boy. Maybe seven? Sweet and silent.
A repeat of the last ceremony occurs. The kid collapses and is dragged out. Roger Cox gasps then stands upright. His eyes are glowing.
“Turn off the lights,” he bellows.
After a nod from Papa Drakeward, the room is plunged into darkness.
“I can see,” Cox squeals in delight. “I have night-vision. I see you all, in every detail.”
Gross.
More applause and congratulations happen. It’s too much, I’m barely able to keep myself upright.
—Stay strong, Theodora. This can’t last forever—
Tyrus Drakeward gathers the attention of the assembled people once again.
“As you know, we can only charge up our conduits every forty-six days. But rest assured, the Conclave’s finest scientists are working on a new conduit which will accelerate the process and soon have you all reaching your innate potential. ”
He glances my way, then clicks his fingers to beckon Dr. Hart towards him. “Janine? Are they ready to be sent back?” Tyrus asks, as his cold eyes shift between me, Cosmo, Wes and then over to Francois.
“Completely,” she replies, a satisfied smirk on her face. “All four are completely and utterly ours.”
Tyrus doesn’t like that. “Mine,” he snaps back.
“Of course, your Eminence. I misspoke.”
He grunts then places a heavy hand on Cosmo’s shoulder. “You and your classmates may return to the academy now, son. You are my eyes and ears among the student body. I want to know of any attempted dissent. And remember, there is no place for sentiment in the Conclave. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father,” Cosmo replies.
“And you, Francois?”
“Yes, sir. I understand, parfaitement.”
Tyrus Drakeward moves towards me. He tilts my chin with a finger.
I shudder as his power roots me to the spot. “And the AUA. She will remember nothing from the past twenty-four hours?”
“Correct, your Eminence. She is now perfectly pliable.”
“Good.” Drakeward moves his hand to grip my jaw, then angles it towards his son. “See this girl? She’s the key to having a rapid production of ascended Elites. Keep her safe, son. And keep your other friend in order, or he’ll be eliminated”
“Father? Which friend?”
“The other Hart boy.”
Jonquil Hart shifts. “Sir…”
“A problem with that?” Tyrus sniffs. “Your second son is a trouble maker. Not my concern that you’ve faulty offspring.” He snaps his fingers and two guards ‘escort’ us into the elevator.
My stomach dips as the pressure changes when we rise.
Within a minute we are ejected out into a shipping container.
Francois, strolls ahead like he hasn’t a care in the world. I guess he’s happy to be part of this sick inner circle. Wes is stiff and uncommunicative, lost again to his Mother’s magical whispers.
“This way,” Cosmo states. “Hurry up.” He’s faking his usual arrogance.
His impressive act only breaks when he casts a strained glance in my direction. We head into nearby woodland, where a line of waiting cars sit idling on the uneven terrain.
A driver opens the towncar door.
Francois gives an over the top bow. “Mademoiselle?”
I slide in, exhausted, flopping back onto the leather seats. Wes is next to me but not touching.
As the driver takes us down the forest road, Wes starts bunching his fist then opening it again. It’s almost in a rhythm. I watch the pattern.
Am I imagining it, or is that?
Quick, quick, quick clenches.
Then, slow, slow, slow.
Followed by three more rapid fire fists.
And repeat.
Morse code.
S
O
S
Fuck!
I press my leg against his, the Lumina pulses along with my frantic heartbeat. Come on, you little suckers—multiply!
Wes’s hand stops convulsing and relaxes.
I hold my breath as he blinks, a slight lightness returning to his pupils. Then the car bounces over a rut, and our bodies break contact. Wes straightens his spine and his face blanks out again.
This time when my knee presses against his, there is too much resistance.
At least, too much for my current low sparkle-content.
I need to replenish somehow.
Alexis would know what to do.
Shit, the guys!
I start to focus on my telepathy, but it’s as if every mote of Lumina is covered in a dense dark sludge, like seabirds after an oil spill.
Fighting off Janine Hart’s dark hypnotic spell has tapped me out.
"Looks like the guards have been doubled in the last few days,” Cosmo says. After a beat he adds. “Good idea. Keep out any vermin.”
The lights of Validus Vale shine brightly in the cold night.
“Exactement, mon ami,” Francois replies, yawning slightly. “The peasants are revolting…as they say. Don’t you agree, Théodora?”
Now it’s my turn to play the game.
“Huh?” I put on a confused expression. “What…what am I doing in this car?” I blink my eyes several times for good measure. “Where have I been?”
Francois grins. “Ah, ma petite, you remember the All-’allows Ball last night? You passed out in all the furor…”
Looking forward, I see Cosmo’s jaw clench. “Yeah, you were…sent to recover with a load of other guests at a nearby hotel,” he adds.
Wes says nothing, just keeps looking firmly ahead.
Gods. Keeping up the charade is going to take everything we have.
“Drop her at Defectivum first,” Cosmo orders.
I lean forward, looking around the campus. It’s quiet, not a soul to be seen. “Where is everyone?”
“Curfew,” Francois replies as the towncar stops outside my dorms. “A new precaution for a new age. Rest well, Théodora. I’m sure we’ll all see you again soon.”
I stumble out onto the gravel and feel three sets of eyes on me as I move wearily towards the Defectivum entrance.
Before pulling open the old wooden door, I give the town car occupants a quick glance.
Francois smirks.
Wes is impassive.
And Cosmo looks like he’s going to kill someone.
???
As I make my way across the Defectivum foyer, the dust and mildew scent is, in my present state, actually comforting.
Smells safe.
Smells like home.
"Theo?”
I jump as Ginger Teresa calls my name.
She’s leaning next to the noticeboard, staring at me as though she’s seen a ghost.
“What were you doing outside? There’s a curfew,” she whispers, looking around nervously. “No one is allowed out. You’ll get in trouble.”
“Um, yeah. I just got back from Havengard.”
Her eyes open even wider. “Just now? Were you injured?”
I’m about to reassure her, when her guy, Scott Samson, steps out of the Defectivum mail room, a couple of envelopes in hand. “Hey, Theo.”
“She just got back from Havengard,” Teresa tells him. “Like, just now.”
“Shit! What happened to you?”
That’s when I remember I’m an ‘amnesiac’.
In this new fucked-up world, I have no idea who is a Conclave spy, so my circle of trust is going to be very limited.
“Honestly, I don’t remember,” I reply, giving a shrug.
“I think I hit my head during all the mayhem, and now the last twenty four hours are super foggy. You were at the ball, right? Did you get out OK?”
The two look at each other, link hands, then nod. “We did, but it was close,” Teresa says. “Can you believe what happened?”
Scott pulls Teresa into a hug. “All those humans just went mad, thank Gods the peacekeepers were there. Something needs to change.”
OK, put Scott on the douche-list. I see Teresa side-eye him and untangle from the embrace. Right there with you, Ginger-T.
I look at my basement door, then change my mind. “Um, have you seen Willow or Dunc by any chance?”
“In their rooms I imagine,” Scott responds, frowning. “There’s a curfew, remember?” Right. “Thanks.”
Summoning resources from Gods knows where, I drag myself up three flights of stairs to Willow's room.
My telepathy is tapped out and I’ve lost my phone, so going old-school is the only choice.
i.e. face to face communication.
Plus, I can borrow Willow’s cell and let the others know I’m back and safe.
I manage to bang once on Willow’s door, as my knees finally give out.
"Gods, Theo!"
She half carries, half drags me into her room. “What happened? Shit, you’re as cold as ice.”
We sink onto her fluffy carpet and she just holds me. Tears run down my face. I hadn’t even realized I’d started crying.
“It’s alright, you’re safe now,” she croons while rocking me. “It’s all going to be OK.”
"I don’t know if that’s true, Wills," I rasp. "I’ve used up all the Lumina keeping the Conclave out of my mind, my soul.”
She grabs a blanket to wrap around my shoulders, then keeps cuddling me. “Talk to me, bestie.”
Where do I even start?
Once again, I try to use my telepathy, but even here, pressed up against Willow, it’s all a blank.
“I have nothing left."
“Nothing left? What…”
Her words are interrupted as we hear heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.
We both flinch when a fierce fist pounds on the wooden frame, making Willow’s door shake.
“You think it’s the so-called peacekeepers?” Willow whispers. “Keep quiet, Theo. I…I’ll try and get rid of them.”
My loyal, brave friend.