A Chosen Life (13 page)

“What do you mean other gifts?” Tolen cast a swift look at Bastian, a sick knot forming in his stomach.

Bastian glanced over and his eyes were dilating again. Tolen’s blue eye burned and he looked away. “What all can you do Tolen?”

Tolen shifted in his seat and stared out the window. He didn’t want to tell this man any more about himself, not only because he didn’t like him, but he didn’t really know how. He’d always had to keep everything a secret. With time he’d even stopped telling his mother when he discovered something else he could do. But if he was going to follow through on his plan, then he needed to know, he needed to understand this creature, this Being that he was. His head flooded with questions and his hatred toward this man couldn’t overrule his need for answers.

“I’ve never really tried to find out everything I can do. Sometimes things just happen. I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t feel something in the trees and that they understood me. I was six when I first created fire. I didn’t mean to. The neighbor kids were really mean to me. One day I just lost it and lit their house on fire.” He didn’t look at Bastian to see what the man thought of this confession. Instead he went on, feeling for the first time a strange sense of relief letting it all out. “I am stronger than most people, and I can run really fast when my emotions are high—angry or even happy. Sometimes I feel things when I’m sitting on the ground, or in the wind. Almost as if they are trying to communicate with me, but I don’t know how . . . ” He trailed off and felt his face redden.

“Do not be embarrassed Tolen. You are not incorrect.” He took a deep breath and scanned the horizon. “The histories and mysteries of the Hidden are many and they take a lifetime of lessons to learn, and even then I do not think one ever truly understands all until they pass to the other side and can view things from a grander perspective. I do not have time to tell you all the mysteries of the Hidden, but I think I can give you enough to help you understand, at least to a degree.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

Tolen waited for him to continue, sensing the Watcher’s discomfort only made him more curious.

“In the beginning, when this world was created, eight great Beings infused their gifts into the Balance. Honitahai, the nature speaker; Kunamin, the fire-wielder; Dicernan, the unseen; Lóklana, the light caller; Animashta, the animal listener; Arwah, the wind shifter; Leenwa, the water caller; and Télora, the earth mover. Because of who you are, you have been given the gift of each of these great Beings. With time you will learn how to speak to the earth, the wind, light, animals, the water, and use all your other gifts in the right way, at the right time, and for the right reasons.”

Bastian took a deep breath. “You have also been born with a special gift that is yours alone. It is not elemental or physical. This is a gift of the heart. A gift of true empathy. There are some, such as the Spheres, that can use their gifts to sense the character of a person, but a gift of true and complete empathy is incredibly rare. You can sense the feelings of those around you, correct?”

Tolen nodded slowly. “My mother always said I was born with a thoughtful heart.” A lump rose in his throat.

“This ability is one of your greatest gifts Tolen. It will guide you better than any compass, better than any map, better than any piece of advice or training you receive. I know that right now you cannot forgive me for what happened to Dane and your mother. As I said I do not expect you to, and I will never ask it of you. What I will ask however, is that you believe your
thoughtful heart
when it tells you I can be trusted and Macy can be trusted. Listen to it as you train, learn, and use it whenever it is time to make a hard decision and anger wants to overrule your good instincts.”

The lump swelled in Tolen’s throat and he didn’t know how to respond. The horrible guilt he felt for his role in Dane and his mother’s disappearance made it hard for him to listen to his heart when he wanted so badly to act. To seek vengeance against those who hurt his best friend and tore apart his family. But in the Watcher’s words he felt the truth. His mother had always given him the same advice,
Follow your heart, Tolen. Whenever you aren’t sure what to do, trust your thoughtful heart. It will not lead you astray.

He kept his eyes out the window. “So Dane was a Télora then?”

Bastian nodded. “And Macy is a Kunamin.”

“What else can they do?”

Bastian took a while to answer and Tolen looked over to see a tiny bead of sweat on his upper lip. “Not all of our kind can do all eight gifts.”

Tolen’s eyes narrowed. The Watcher was hiding something. As much as Tolen wanted to know what it was, he had learned enough from his mother to know when an adult didn’t want to tell you something, no amount of prying would get it out of them. He switched gears to another topic that plagued him. “What did you mean when you said I was letting my subconscious take over?”

Bastian’s eyes began dilating rapidly. Tolen rubbed his eye when it burned again.

“You were in a Dreamer’s state.” Bastian took a measured breath. “There are a group of individuals within the Hidden called the Dreamers. They have an unusual gift—the ability to use their subconscious in battle.”

“What? How is that even possible?”

“There is a place where you go in your mind when you pass out, is there not?”

Tolen shifted in his seat. “I guess you could say that.”

“Is it warm and bright? You feel safe and comfortable?”

Tolen nodded once but kept his eyes on the road.

“You have gone there when you are awake as well, have you not?”

He was reminded of his recent fight with Jeff. “Yeah, I have. But when I’m awake and I go there on purpose, I can still sense what is going on around me. I can watch it as if I am outside my body. It wasn’t like that in the canyon.”

Bastian nodded. “In the canyon your mind knew of this place and took you there to protect itself. A reaction based on learned behavior.”

“But what is it? Where do I go?”

“To better understand, think of conscious and subconscious as two separate beings occupying the same space. Each has a job to do, but they cannot get in one another’s way. So when the conscious must work, guiding the body through the avenues of cognizant thought and action, like tying your shoes, the subconscious is locked away. When the body must rest the conscious is locked away, while the subconscious is let out to travel the deeper regions of the mind, resolving problems, healing, dreaming. Do you understand?”

As convoluted as it sounded, it actually did make sense. “You can’t tie your shoes while you’re asleep and you can’t dream while you’re awake?”

“Precisely. The Dreamers’ minds do not abide by the same rules. They can access either place, awake or asleep. Both conscious and subconscious can work at the same time, and the Dreamers are trained how to control each, to lock them away until they are needed in battle.”

Tolen considered the Watcher. “What do you mean, in battle?”

“Remember the feeling you had when you left the truck and I tried to stop you, the voice that came from your mouth?”

Tolen swallowed, “Yeah. It was horrible, and powerful. I felt like I had no control . . . That was my subconscious mind?”

“Yes.”

“I felt so strong . . . ” It had been both frightening and enthralling, the power that had surged through him.

“In our dreams, we are not limited by logic. We can
be
super heroes. Because you are of the Hidden race, you have the ability to enhance your natural abilities—like running, hearing, and sight—but logic, the conscious mind, stops us from going too far.”

Tolen regarded his reflection in the side window. What
was
he? “The Dreamers can become what they dream?”

“They can become as
powerful
as what they dream.” Bastian corrected. “They cannot change their appearance.”

“It took over. I didn’t even know it was happening.” He glanced at his hands. “How do I keep it from happening again?” No matter how fascinating the power had been, he did not like the way it had controlled him.

“Your conscious mind is naturally stronger than your subconscious. Now that you understand this ability, it will be easier to control it. Knowledge has already made your mind stronger. The next time you feel overwhelmed, you will stop yourself from going to the realm of the subconscious. It will be easier than you think.” He paused and gave Tolen a searching look.

“As soon as we reach the Binithan, I will begin your training. The more you learn of your gifts, and your own strength, the less your body and mind will control you.”

Tolen clenched his hands on the seat beneath him. Learning more about how to control his strange abilities was something he’d wanted forever, but could he handle being taught by a man he didn’t like? Couldn’t he have the Doogar teach him instead?

He peeked at the hard planes of Bastian’s face—a man who did not look much older than himself. Bastian said he was Tolen’s Watcher. Would he ever be out of his life? Did he even have a choice?

Bastian glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Macy?”

Tolen looked in the back to see her watching him with wide eyes.

He felt warmth crawl up his face. How long had she been awake? How much had she overheard?

“The sun is fully up.” Bastian interrupted Tolen’s musing. “The armies of the Dark have stopped their chase for now. I can see that our path will be mostly clear for the next hundred miles or so. Can you drive for a few hours while I regenerate?”

Macy nodded and Bastian pulled off the highway at a rest stop.

Bastian said it casually, but one word made Tolen’s stomach clench.

Mostly . . .
Their path would be
mostly
clear, not completely.

The angry bees were back and his head buzzed painfully.

The nightmare wasn’t even close to over.

Chapter Eleven

Stories

Macy glanced in the rearview mirror at Bastian. He was restless—his legs kept twitching in his sleep.

It didn’t help the state of her nerves.

Bastian was trying to keep the seriousness of their situation quiet so the kid wouldn’t freak out, but she knew . . . Daylight or not, the Dark continued to move. Maybe not their armies, but servants
were
moving. It was subtle, but there. Every town they passed through she felt them stir, almost as if the presence of the Ninth awakened them.

Whether Bastian wanted to admit it or not, she’d been right. Tolen’s life force was like a beacon, lighting the way for the Dark to follow.

She’d also become more sensitive to the specific vibes of the Shadows in the last few days. Their eerie, distant cold kept her Kuna tingling. She could feel their power gathering somewhere up ahead. Bastian hadn’t mentioned this yet, and she knew why. She struggled enough with their predicament and he knew she’d put up a fight when he admitted that they were headed toward the Shadows, instead of running from them.

Two days ago, he would have been right. She would have taken off on her own if it meant she didn’t have to deal with the Ninth and all the trouble that came with him. She’d loathed Tolen before she’d ever set eyes on him. It was childish, yes, but how she’d felt.

Now?

Watching him lose his mother and best friend had erased the irrational hatred she felt toward him and forced her to admit that she didn’t know him well enough to hate him.

The truth? She let her breath out in irritation.

She envied him. And . . . she was afraid of him.

He had so much that she’d wished for; a home life with a mother who, even though she happened to be a little on the crazy side, adored him and was there for him every day. His father might be locked in the Shadow Prison, but at least he was alive and there was the chance he could survive. Yes, it was a horribly slim chance, but Tolen
could
be re-united with him one day. He had Dane, a really good friend, who’d been willing to die for him. He’d attended real school. He’d lived the human life Macy had been denied.

And now he had Bastian too.

However, stronger than her ridiculous envy lurked the dread of what his very existence meant. It was completely irrational, unfair, and downright stupid—he didn’t choose his fate—but she resented him being born. The Legend of the Ninth Chosen had been told for centuries. Why did it have to come to pass in her lifetime?

She’d fought creatures that would scare the pants off the toughest grown men, but they’d all been small battles or preplanned reconnaissance missions to find out the movements of the Dark and send the information back to the Guardians.

The Final Battle stories also went by the name of Armageddon—the war to end all wars. Maybe Tolen’s mother had been right. Maybe Macy
wasn’t
strong enough for what was coming.

She glanced again in the mirror, making sure Bastian was still asleep and not focused on her thoughts.

She had a decision to make. Either she could accept the will of the Balance and help Bastian train the Ninth—which in turn would also, hopefully, help save the world—or she could continue to hate the kid, be scared and jealous of him, and make his life even more miserable than it already was.

But could she?

Could she face the Shadows again? Was she strong enough? Even if facing them ensured the success of the Ninth and could possibly save the world, she wasn’t positive she’d be able to do it. The Shadows were miles ahead and yet the drain on her life force was already frightening, and it would only get worse. She knew the closer she got to them the weaker she would become.

She shook her head, squared her shoulders, and peeked at Tolen from her peripheral vision. Well it wasn’t as if she really had much choice. Without the Ninth they were all doomed anyway. And Shadows or no Shadows, she was not going down without a fight. She might as well have the Ninth on her side when that happened. She made a face. Well, once he was actually trained how to fight.

She pictured the look on Bastian’s face if he knew her current thoughts and scowled. He’d be grinning ear to ear.

Even if she did choose to do the right thing, she had no idea how to even talk to him. She’d never had to relate to someone her own age before—especially someone raised to be human. Jeez,
she
was the human and he knew more about being one than she did! She ran a hand across her eyes.

“Are you tired?” Tolen asked softly. “I can drive for a while if you tell me where to go.”

He’d been so silent, leaning against the window, that she’d assumed he’d fallen back asleep. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um, no. I’m good.”

Tolen pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “I was beginning to wonder if he ever slept.” His tone was calm, measured, and she could tell, forced. Considering the fact that his mother had been so sick, and he’d been the one with the job, Macy figured he was used to being independent. He didn’t like the fact that she and Bastian had seen him lose control, seen his weakness. Despite his quiet nature, he had an ego. Macy’s lip twitched.

Tolen watched her expectantly, waiting for a response—he looked wary, like he was worried his effort to appear normal would blow up in his face. She bet his act did a good job of fooling normal humans, but he didn’t fool her. She’d spent too many years fighting the Dark, the master of all deceptions, to believe his careful disguise.

She tapped the steering wheel. Bastian had told her not to provoke the kid. Well, if there was one thing she knew how to do well with humans, it was act. She had pretended enough around them that two could play at this game.

Here goes nothin’.
She cleared her throat noisily and answered as casually as she could. “Yeah, Bastian . . . ” She peeked at Tolen’s eyes, wondering how
his
Watcher’s eye worked. Obviously, he wasn’t the same as Bastian, yet he could
see
some things. She realized she was staring and quickly looked back to the road. “Full
-
blooded Watchers don’t need to sleep a whole lot. No one really knows why. Maybe it has something to do with the importance of their job.” She shrugged and glanced in the mirror at Bastian. “It’s been almost four days since he last crashed.”

“Really?”

Macy nodded.

“Wow.” He kept his eyes on the road, but every once in a while he glanced over at her.

It felt awkward, like he’d never really talked to a girl before. She wondered if it was true. After seeing all those girls stare at him, she assumed that at some point he had to have talked to them. Hadn’t he? She mentally shook her head. Maybe that’s not how it worked. It wasn’t like she had any references in the romance department to go by. Bastian’s stories were never romantic, almost always tragic, and not one included the proper way to flirt. Not that she wanted to flirt with the kid.

She cleared her throat again, quieter this time. “I know. It drove me nuts when I first joined him, but eventually I realized it comes in handy.”

“Have you been with him a long time?” he picked at a spot on his jeans.

Macy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glanced in all the mirrors again, and licked her lips. “Ten years.”

“Wow, you were young when you were Chosen.” His eyes were on the road, barely interested, but she hesitated before she answered. These seemingly innocent questions could lead into dangerous territory.

“Six.”

Tolen turned toward her, eyes wide. “It seems like a lot to put on a child.”

She leaned her head back against the seat. “The Dark doesn’t care about age.”

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

Macy chuckled humorlessly. “Is life ever fair?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, but the smile was filled with too much pain to be genuine. “No. Life isn’t fair.”

The Jeep sputtered and Macy stepped on the gas pedal to rev the engine.

“Did Bastian teach you how to fix cars?”

“No.” Her fists tightened on the wheel. She sensed what the next question would be before he asked it.

“Where’d you learn?”

She reminded herself that to him this was small talk, something to pass the time and take him away from the gravity of their situation. He wasn’t really even paying attention to the answers. He had no idea what kind of memories the question would stir, what kind of horrors she had locked away. She tried to think of a simple answer that wouldn’t lead to more uncomfortable questions, or even force her to lie, but she couldn’t come up with anything.

She shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “My dad loved to tinker with cars. It was his hobby. When I was Chosen, Bastian said I needed a hobby—something to do between training and fighting. He would have liked it if I had picked something more girly, but my interest in auto-mechanic work has come in handy.” She felt proud of herself for her calm tone; inside she was screaming.

“Do you still get to see him—your dad?” Tolen’s tone held a hint of envy.

A horrible ache ripped through her chest and the words came out harsher than she intended. “My parents are dead.”

She heard Tolen’s sharp intake of breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Chagrin and empathy laced the words, for a moment his careful facade slipped, and she realized that he knew exactly how she felt, not only because of his experience with his own parents, but because he was the
Ninth.
His Watcher’s eye made him sensitive to the thoughts and emotions of everyone around him . . . everyone, because as the Ninth he was
responsible
for everyone.

She suddenly felt like a kid who just realized she’d showed up to school without her pants. All her thoughts were exposed to a guy she barely knew. It was one thing for Bastian to know, he was like her father, but Tolen?
Nuh, uh, no way. This is not cool!

“I’m sorry . . . ” He cast a cautious look her way before dropping his chin and pinching the bridge of his nose. In that moment she saw something else in his eyes, something under the anger.
Need.
He wanted to hate her and everything she stood for, but deep inside, this troubled kid needed acceptance from someone,
anyone
for what he was.

Her heart thudded in her chest and pity swelled in her heart.
Chill, just chill.
The kid didn’t know what he was capable of. He didn’t know he could sense thoughts yet.

She twisted her hair on her finger. “It’s okay, Tolen. You didn’t know.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” he mumbled.

He looked so broken. An unfamiliar wave of sympathy washed over her.

“Hey, in the glove box there’s a bag of suckers. Wanna get a couple out for us?” She needed the sugar if she was going to go ahead with the thought that had taken root in her head.

Tolen pulled open the rusty glove box and took out a plastic bag filled with suckers. “Only purple ones?”

Macy shrugged. “I like purple.”

He pulled the wrapper off hers and handed it to her before unwrapping his own. He stuck it in his cheek. “You said back at my house that they help regenerate your life force. I assume that’s like code for ‘gives you a sugar rush’?”

Macy snorted. “Sure. Sugar recharges our batteries—if you want to call the life force batteries. Whenever you use your gifts, it drains your physical body, which in turn, affects your life force. Sugar sort of helps get your energy back. Bastian loves Lucid with ‘unrefined’ sugar. I think it tastes like crap.”

“Me too.”

“Wait until you try one of his sweetened meat-cakes. You’ll barf the first time, I promise.”

Tolen laughed softly—a pleasant, comfortable sound. He was still protecting his real feelings, but she could feel him relaxing, allowing himself to settle into the conversation. “Thanks for the warning.”

Macy glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He’d been through a lot. He was tougher than she’d given him credit for.

“The Dark is after me specifically. That’s why my mom hid everything from me. I can feel it.” He pulled the sucker out of his mouth and twisted the stick between his fingers.

It was random, way off subject, and Macy could tell he’d been thinking about it for a while. Her smile disappeared. She glanced at Bastian again, wishing he would wake up. Tolen was about to go onto ground she wasn’t sure she could share.

“What am I?” His blue eye flashed, intensifying the frustration he obviously felt. He didn’t look at her, as if he didn’t expect her to answer, and was just throwing the question into the universe.

She clenched her teeth and turned her eyes back to the road, not sure whether she could, or even
should
respond.

They passed slowly through a small town with several squat derelict buildings. She felt the Balance shift and looked out her window. Something black and hairy hunched in the shadow between two buildings. Its red eyes gleamed threateningly from the edge of the shade. Grateful they still had half a tank of gas, she pushed harder on the pedal and the engine groaned.

She cast a quick glance at Tolen and then wished she hadn’t. His hands were clenched into fists in his lap, his eyes hard. He was working to maintain the smokescreen, but it was thinning, his need for more truth was stronger than his desire to hide.

What was she supposed to say?

“That’s a long story you should already know.” She wished she could take it back when his face fell and he turned back to the window. “I’m sorry Tolen, I . . . ”

“It’s okay. You’re right. If my mom had told me, I wouldn’t be pestering you.” He threw the remains of his sucker out the window and met her eyes for a brief moment. “I did try.” He ran a barely trembling hand through his hair and the words tumbled from his mouth. “I tried to get my mom to tell me the truth. For years, I begged and pleaded. Then one day, my tenth birthday, I lost it. I’d finally gotten old enough that I could see how ridiculous her excuses were—and I came completely unglued. I wanted a birthday party, a real one with friends. I wanted to go to a fun park like the kids did on TV and play games. You know, all the good stuff.” He chuckled cynically. “She told me we couldn’t afford it. I thought it was a lie. I’d seen her taking cash from a box under her bed for years. Little did I know it was her life-savings and there really wasn’t much left.