A Fractured Light (11 page)

But when I had stared into his familiar blue eyes just now, he seemed like a stranger.

“I’m glad you were here,” I said to Gideon. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. He stared down the darkening road where Devin had vanished, his gaze losing focus for a second. It was like he was here and, at the same time, so many miles away from where we stood. I shifted slightly, my feet crunching on the gravel. His eyes refocused on me as if suddenly remembering I was there. “Come on. I’ll walk you home. It’s dark.”

I was grateful for his company. He was smaller than Asher but tough and wiry. The intense look in his eyes remained. An idea was already forming in my mind. I just hoped he’d agree to go along with it.

When we got to the front door, I turned to him.

“Ardith told me . . . about your past,” I said, trying to think of a way to say what I was thinking.

“Yeah,” said Gideon, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I thought she might.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s good that you know.”

“I was hoping,” I began. “Would you help me? Will you teach me the tricks you learned? How to fight them?”

The look in Gideon’s eyes folded inward to some private place. Pain flashed across his face, like he was reliving something terrible.

“It isn’t easy,” he said finally. “It took me a long time to learn. And there are . . .” He paused. “Side effects.”

“Please,” I said plaintively. “I need your help. It’s the only way I can take control of all of this.” I spread my arms to encompass, well, everything. “I don’t want to be vulnerable again, Gideon. What if next time you aren’t there to fend him off?”

He looked at me as if trying to appraise whether or not I was worthy. After a couple of seconds, the look in his eyes softened, and he was once again the boy I’d met at school. Poor Gideon. My heart felt so heavy with the weight of his story, I almost wished Ardith hadn’t told me.

“I—I want you to be as strong as you can be,” he said. “But I don’t know if I—if I’m ready. I have to think about it. I need some time.”

My hopes fell.

“Okay,” I said. “I understand. But when you’re ready? I hope you’ll find me.”

“I will,” he said. “I will.”

There was a strange energy buzzing through me as I stalked around the house that night. It all felt finally within my grasp—so close I could reach out and touch it. I was taking steps to control my own destiny. Soon I wasn’t going to be confused anymore.

Aunt Jo was still tense and standoffish. I didn’t know why. She had been okay the night I’d come home—mad but happy I was safe and alive. Was it only just sinking in for her? Or was it something else? This new tension had started right around the night Asher had come over. Was it possible her anger had something to do with him? It didn’t make any sense. Asher was charming—even the most difficult of teachers loved him. So why didn’t Aunt Jo?

I locked myself in my room to try to tackle some of the mountains of catch-up work I’d been assigned, but my mind wandered and I couldn’t focus. Eventually I gave up and got ready for bed early, wondering if Asher would come. I hadn’t seen him since study hall, and I realized, laughing to myself, that I missed him.
So this is what it feels like
, I thought, a small private smile stealing across my lips.

I didn’t want to spend my time away from him. Every minute that passed was one minute closer to the next time I’d see him again.

When I got back from the bathroom, freshly showered and with my hair knotted on top of my head, I paused. There was something dark resting on my pillow. As I drew closer, I noticed it was a small, delicate, purple flower—the kind that grew along the side of our house in the spring.

It was the same kind of flower that Devin had tried to get me to resurrect. My powers had failed me, and when I’d opened my hands, the flower was still cold and lifeless, a withered brown. The flowers around our house didn’t appear to be in bloom yet, so they definitely wouldn’t be as purple or alive as the flower that lay on my pillow now. This one had been brought back to life. By a Guardian.

Was it a threat? Or did it mean something else? My mind reeled as I wondered if it was Devin’s way of asking for a chance to explain. Did I really want him to?

I placed the flower with the other artifacts I’d been collecting on my dresser: the white feather and the notebook. The confusing ephemera of my life.

I got under the covers and switched off my bedside lamp, but I couldn’t quiet my mind. The energy from my run and the adrenaline from everything after pulsed in my ears. Where was Asher?

If Gideon wasn’t sure he could teach me to fight the Order’s mental manipulation, I needed to find another way. Running was one way to channel my powers. It was a start, but it wasn’t intense enough. It was sloppy and freeing—it didn’t require the precision I knew I needed in order to focus. Only one thing I knew could do that.

Skiing.

I’d quit the team because I’d been afraid of what my powers might do if I
lost
control in the heat of the moment. My teammates would get hurt. I’d been terrified that I might cause another avalanche, or worse.

But I knew that I had changed. In the woods the night I’d almost died, I’d caused the earth to shake and lightning to crack and trees to split and fall to the ground. And I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it. Now I could feel myself grow stronger with each run. I was learning control.

I’d been so afraid before that night when Devin had tried to kill me. But strangely, I wasn’t afraid anymore.

This time I knew that skiing would help me to focus my powers—not threaten the balance within me. Through skiing, maybe I could find what I’d been searching for.

I made a decision right then. The next day, I would rejoin the ski team.

Chapter 13

I
n the morning, Aunt Jo flitted about the kitchen like a trapped bird, not sure what she was doing or where she was going next, only concerned with keeping alight.

“I’ll be home for dinner,” she said. “What else?” She rested for a second by the counter. She looked tired, like she hadn’t been sleeping very well.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Me? Fine, fine. You’ll call me if you need anything, right?” She’d finished washing the dishes and was still holding an empty mug in her hand, turning it over and over. “Right?”

“Right . . .”

She absentmindedly put the mug in the sink, even though she’d just washed it, and left the room. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam and her car start. If it was possible to feel like an outsider in your own home, that’s how I felt. Like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Like she didn’t want to talk to me or touch me or even be in the same room.

I finished my cereal and left a few minutes later. On the way to school, I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music, giddy at the thought of being back on the ski team. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

Even though it was only March, everything felt like it was coming alive—including me. It had been a long, cold winter, a dark winter, full of fear and an aching I’d never known before. But now the spring was coming and I could feel it at the tips of my fingers and on my cheeks. I could choose what I wanted to be.

The student lot was deserted, and I pulled into a spot close to the front doors. I had gotten to school especially early today. I had a feeling I would run into someone here. And I wanted to be alone with him when I did.

The halls were mostly empty. As I walked, the heavy soles of my boots echoing against the shiny floor, I caught sight of a dark figure retreating at the other end of the hallway. His solid frame was silhouetted against the window.

For a second I thought I’d fallen into one of my dreams, the ones that kept repeating until I could barely remember what the truth was anymore. But this wasn’t a dream.

I stopped short.

“Hey,” I called. “Hey! Devin!” My voice echoed down the empty corridor. The figure stopped walking and stayed still. His head was lowered as if he was looking at the ground.

I sucked in my breath. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure I wanted to do this.

Slowly he turned around and lifted his eyes from the ground in front of him. They were cold, blue as a frozen lake. Memories of Devin came rushing back to me. I remembered the night I first saw him at Love the Bean; the day we met, outside of homeroom; our snowball fight; and the morning after when I woke up lying next to him. How could those eyes, that had looked so sleepy and innocent and surprised to find me in his bed that morning—how could
those eyes
be capable of such coldness? How could they look at me as if I meant nothing to him? As if emotion wasn’t something that you felt but that you chose—cold and calculated just like the Order had taught him?

Hadn’t he cared about me at all?

Hadn’t he
loved
me?

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Did you want to talk to me? I thought . . .” I wasn’t sure what I thought. “Didn’t you leave me . . . a flower?”

He looked at me questioningly.

“Look, I have a lot of questions,” I said. “And I think I deserve some answers.”

He looked away. “What makes you think I have the answers?”

“Because you’re the one who tried to kill me.”

His attention snapped back to me. His eyes were hard.

“Go ahead, then.”

But suddenly confronted with the idea of finding out the truth, my heart shrank. If he didn’t love me, it would hurt. Even though I was devoted to Asher, had chosen him completely, there was something about the Guardian that I felt so sad about giving up. If he didn’t love me—or if he did love me and had agreed to kill me anyway—well, then, the pain would be like the sword he’d stabbed me with, twisting sharply in my gut.

Suddenly I didn’t want to be hurt again by him. By anyone, really. The Skye who had waffled back and forth for so long between the Order and the Rebellion—between Devin and Asher—seemed like a person in a book who I had read about once. Someone remote and fictional. She wasn’t me. She never would be again.

“Never mind,” I said. “I don’t want to know.” I started to turn, to walk away back down the empty hall.

“I dreamed about you,” he blurted out. His voice broke into the silent hallway, catching me off-guard. “Every night . . . after it happened. I still do.”

I turned around in shock. “What?”

He looked just as shocked as I did at the words that had flown out of his mouth. But he kept talking. “I thought you were dead. When I drew the sword out and you fell, and . . .
he
. . . pulled you away, I thought you were dead. But then when none of the Gifted would tell me the status of the mission, I knew they didn’t know. And I had to hope that if they didn’t know, it meant you were still alive, blurring out your own destiny and that of the people whose lives you touch. Hiding from the Order. I had to hope that I had failed. And you were still alive.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I felt shaky, my resolve cracking.

“If you’re still able to do that—blur destiny—then soon there will be no such thing as destiny at all. And the Order will be pointless. They know that, Skye. It’s not safe for you here.” He paused, his voice level and even, as if he wasn’t affected by what he was saying, as if he had no fear at all.
How could someone seem to be so full of so many different emotions and yet be incapable of feeling any of them?
“You’re going to destroy us all,” he said. The calm in his voice was maddening.

“Now you’re warning me?”

“No,” he said softly. “I’m just telling you the facts.”

“Skye, Skye, Skye,” a voice chimed like a crystal bell behind me.

Devin’s head snapped up and his eyes focused over my shoulder. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Raven was standing there, preventing me from asking what I had been about to.

“Raven,” Devin said warningly under his breath.

“I’m
so
glad you’re both here.”

“What do you want?” My voice was cold, hard.

“Who, me? I was just looking for my fated one.” She sauntered over and offered Devin a hand. He glanced at me before reaching out—and taking it. “We’re bonded now, Skye, didn’t he tell you?”

What?
I looked at him, my eyes wide, but he stared at the ground.

“We underwent the ceremony just a couple of days ago,” Raven continued, her fingers tightening around his bicep possessively. As if I might still want him. As if I might still trust that the angel in front of me wanted me to succeed. The idea was so horrible, it made my blood seethe. I could never want Devin. I hated him.
Hated him.
I heard the locker doors that lined the hallway begin to rattle as the floor beneath us shook. Raven raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be mad, Skye. He thought he’d killed you, after all.”

Chapter 14

I
nvoluntarily I found myself backing away.

Raven was soulless, dangerous, the perfect, obedient Guardian. I knew what she was capable of, and if she and Devin were now bonded, it meant the Gifted had another way to make sure Devin stayed in line.

It also meant that even though it had been crazy to think it, even for a second, there was no way I could ever trust him.

I was so upset that I had to jam my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep from shaking. What was wrong with me? How could I be disappointed that an angel whose job had been to kill me was celestially bonded to another?

Maybe it was because my gut was telling me something else.

Deep down I
knew
that, while the Order had control over Devin’s mind and body, they couldn’t control his heart. They could force a sword into his hand and force Raven into his life, but they couldn’t force him to be happy. And when I looked at him, I knew he wasn’t. There were so many things he was holding back. His eyes told me all I needed to know.

There was someone good in there, someone who wanted desperately to escape. I knew it even if he didn’t.

“Oh, Skye, don’t go so soon,” Raven said sweetly.

“I hope you two are happy together,” I said. “But you both better stay far, far away from me.”

“Skye, wait,” Devin blurted.

“Devin,” Raven said sharply, and he fell back.

I turned and walked away down the hall.

Asher was waiting for me at my locker, wearing his familiar beat-up army jacket and jeans. There was something so comforting about seeing him there waiting for me. He was my rock, my reality, and the weird encounter with Devin and Raven was just another bad dream. Asher was the one I woke up to. He broke into the slightly wicked grin that used to make me fight back a smile. But now I let myself get lost in it.

“I missed you last night,” I said, inserting myself under his arm and snuggling in. He kissed the top of my head.

“Gideon told me what happened on the road. Are you okay?”

Was I? I thought about all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours: focusing more of my powers, asking Gideon to help me, my decision to rejoin the ski team. Even my confrontation with Devin. All of it felt like it was leading me toward some kind of moment of clarity.

“I’ve never been better,” I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm and sent tiny pinpricks of light through my nerve endings. He wove a hand up my neck and through my hair.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “So I don’t need to kick anyone’s ass?”

“Not unless you want to.” I grinned, pulling away.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Asher’s eyes clouded over.

“Get a room, you two,” Cassie said, her locker door slamming shut next to us.

“You’re one to talk!” I yelled, swatting her.
“Babes.”

“Babes?” said Asher. He turned to me. “Really?”

“Shut up.” Cassie laughed. “Dan said it first.”

The bell rang, and we headed for homeroom.

Devin was standing at the opposite end of the hall, watching us. Alone. When our eyes met, he turned and walked through the doorway.

Cassie and I were the first ones at lunch. She sat across the table, sipping her Odwalla juice and eyeing me.

She glanced around to make sure the boys were out of earshot. “That was cute this morning,” she said.

“What was cute?” I asked, playing absently with the crust of a slice of bread.

“
Almost
as cute as me and Dan. Are you trying to compete with us? Because it won’t work. We’ve already won.”

“Are you talking about Asher?”

“The very same.” She grinned.

“Well,” I said, “I hate to break it to you, but you guys don’t stand a chance.”

“No, but seriously, though,” Cassie said, spearing a sprig of broccoli. “You seem really happy.” She paused. “I’ve never seen you like this. So are you? Happy? Tell me for real. Because it’s about time you were.”

“I am,” I said, unable to stop myself from smiling stupidly. Everything in my life was converging toward what I wanted. I was on a path, and the trees were bowing to reveal the way to me. “I really think I am.”

“So . . . have you guys done it yet?”

“Cassie!”

“Well, you were staying with the guy in a cabin! In the woods! Cut off from the rest of humanity! Seems like plenty of opportunities might have arisen.”

“We’re not—” I started to say. “We haven’t—” but stopped. Why
hadn’t
we come closer? It’s not like I hadn’t wanted to. There were a few times at the cabin when we’d been alone, but I’d still been recovering. And now that Aunt Jo was home every night, we ran the risk of being interrupted—like the other night.
“It just hasn’t . . . felt right yet.” I paused.

But that wasn’t exactly it. The real reason was much more complicated. I was afraid
.
And not for the obvious reasons. When I was alone with Asher, our lips sparking in the night when they touched, I had so much trouble controlling my powers. He had that effect on me, the singular ability to turn my blood hot and make the room sweltering and cause the hems of my jeans to go up in flames. What if things got
really
intense and something way worse happened? In the cabin, we put the fire out in time. What if next time I hurt him?

No, I definitely wasn’t ready yet.

“Why?” I said suddenly. “Have you and Dan?” Cassie gave me a smug look. “Really?” I gasped.

“Not yet,” she said, grinning and raising her eyebrows. “Because of, you know, cement leg.” She gestured to the blue cast. “But we’ve come
very
close. If you know what I mean.”

“Wow, thank you for painting that mental picture.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. You’d be surprised, actually—”

“Okay, Cassie, I have to
keep
being friends with Dan. I’m drawing a line.”

“Wuss,” she said. She took a sip of juice and clapped her hands together. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she sang. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to about boys! I can’t exactly talk about Dan to, well,
Dan
. You know?”

“Ian said no way, huh?”

“Before I could even finish the question.” She laughed. “So . . . Devin. That is definitely over, right?”

“
So
over,” I said.
You have no idea.
I glanced up, and she was eyeing me. “Why? What did you hear?”

“Nothing,” she said, going back to her lunch. “Not a thing.” She crunched a carrot and muttered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Except for that
way
defensive answer . . .”

A group of the new transfers from River Springs High walked by our table, and I was pulled out of my thoughts as the air around us seemed to grow colder.

“Those new kids are so creepy,” Cassie said, shivering dramatically. “I feel like they’re going to kill us in our sleep or something.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”

You have no idea,
I thought for the second time in that conversation.

After school I marched to the gym, and into the office of the director of athletics.

“Skye,” she said, surprised, looking up from some paperwork. “Looking for Coach Samuelson?”

“I am,” I said. “Is he around?”

“You’re in luck.” She smiled. “They haven’t left for the slopes yet. He should be in his office.”

“Thanks,” I replied, turning before she could ask me anything else. I walked into his office as he was stuffing some equipment into a duffel bag.

“Skye,” he said. “Coming to watch the match?”

“Actually, I want to rejoin the team,” I announced.

He paused and eyed me up and down.

“You miss it?”

“So much.”

“You more committed this time?”

“You bet.” I put my hands on my hips like I knew what I was talking about.

He puckered his face in thought.

“Can you come today?” he asked. “Race against Brighton Academy?”

“Yes!” I cried, jumping up and down. “Thank you!”

“I’ll just bump Ellie down to third.”

“What?”

“Ellie,” he said. “To third.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the eye. “You know,” he said. “A little competition is healthy. Fuels the proverbial fire. You could be the team captain next year after Maggie graduates, you know.”

“I could?” I asked, perplexed.

“Parker, you’re my star skier! Of course you could. But you were gone, and you have some catching up to do. Ellie’s really proven herself to have the grit I need in a team captain.” He looked at me like he was looking straight into my soul. “Do you have that grit, Skye? Can I count on you?”

I swallowed. “Yes,” I said, much more confidently than I suddenly felt.

He patted me on the shoulder. “Good,” he said. “Then prove it. Beat Ellie’s time today. Then we’ll talk.”

Great,
I thought, as he slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and walked out of the office.
Like Ellie needs another reason to hate me
.

Sucking in a deep breath, I followed.

The top of the mountain was cold and white. The clouds moved slowly, changing shapes, as if winking at me knowingly.
We know what you can do, Skye.

Good,
I thought.
Let me show you.

I was racing against Claire Fincher, arguably the best skier on the Brighton team. I’d faced her before, last year. She was famous for being competitive and fierce, and the last time we’d raced against each other, she’d knocked into me, drawing blood. She was terrifying.

Coach Samuelson came up behind me and put his hand on my back. “You can do this, Parker,” he said.

I let his words sink into my gut as I pulled my goggles down over my eyes. I could do this. Claire was fierce, but I had power. And I wasn’t just trying to beat her—or even Ellie’s time two spots after me. I had a purpose. The thought of finally controlling my powers sent a rush through me so heady that for a moment I saw stars.

At the signal, we both pushed off. The wind wrapped itself around me, and soon I was flying down the mountain. I could feel every bump, every slight turn in the course. I was moving so fast that I saw nothing but whiteness. I felt nothing but joy.

I crouched lower as I took a sharp bend, the wind smacking me hard in the face. I spat back at it—and then, as if by magic, it seemed to retreat.
Not magic,
I thought.
I’m doing this.
The clouds swooped in, surrounding me and then whipping away behind me—covering my trail. I could hear the swish of Claire’s skis, keeping pace, and I glanced back to see if she was okay.

“Skye!” her voice rang out. “The weather changed! Can you see?”

“I’m fine!” I called. “Are you?”

“I think so!”

I trained my eyes on the clouds and dispersed them, letting the feel of the ground beneath my skis guide me the rest of the way down the mountain. I wanted control, but I didn’t want to win by blocking her way. My goal was to beat her, fair and square.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire pull up alongside me. I crouched lower, leaning into the wind.

Focus your energy.

Find the switch.

Flip it.

I pulled ahead, pummeling toward the finish line.

Everything was within my grasp. The power rushed through me, and I no longer felt like I was skiing down the mountain. I felt like I was a
part
of it. I pushed myself forward, slicing across the finish line and swishing to a hard stop. I stared back up at the mountain, breathing hard, alive. I knew that I was right—this was what I needed.

Claire came tumbling over the finish line, screeching to a halt beside me.

“Amazing time, Parker!” Coach called. “You beat your own record!” But I didn’t need him to tell me that. I already knew.

Claire drew up beside me. “Whoa,” she said, pulling her goggles up. “That was crazy intense.”

“I know.” I panted. “Good race. You were incredible.”

“Not as incredible as you, Skye, jeez. You going out for captain next year?”

“Yeah,” I said, pulling my own goggles up. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Me too.” She grinned. “Here’s to more races in our future.” She reached out to shake my hand but stopped cold. “Dude,” she said. “Those are some wild contacts.”

Contacts?
“Oh, um, yeah.” I pulled my goggles back down. “I’ll see you later,” I said abruptly, turning and racing for the equipment house. The sky was already fading into twilight and the first stars of evening were beginning to twinkle on. I locked myself in the bathroom, pulled up my goggles, and faced myself in the mirror, grabbing the sink with both hands.

Claire was right. I’d never before seen my eyes burn a brighter silver than they were right then.