Between (28 page)

Justin can’t possibly know how much that statement frustrates me. There’s plenty going on out there. My family is missing. Why aren’t we getting more from the mirrors? “Have there been any problems with the mirrors?” I ask. “Weakness? Failure?”

His mouth shifts to the side. “Nope. They’re all operating as they should be.”

Would we know if they weren’t? It’s hard to notice the absence of something you’re not expecting in the first place. If there’s a mission to be dealt with and it doesn’t show up in the mirror, how would we even know until it’s too late?

I wander back to Seth’s desk and toss my paper down. “I feel like I’m spinning my wheels and getting nowhere.”

He leans back in his seat and looks up at me. “I heard what you asked Justin. That was smart. I don’t think anyone’s thought about the mirrors yet. And really, how can we be sure if they’re working properly or not?”

I smile at him. “Don’t act so surprised. I
am
smart, you know. And I wondered the same thing about the mirrors. How would we know if messages aren’t coming through?”

“I’ll be sure to mention it to Alexander,” he says. He lowers his voice and adds, “And I know how smart you are. Your brain’s always been one of my favorite parts about you.”

The way he smiles at me reignites the flutter. Those. Freaking. Eyelashes.

“Thanks.” Leaning over and kissing his cheek seems like the most natural thing to do right now, and the fact that I can’t frustrates me to no end. Instead, I stay put and remind myself he’s off-limits.

“I think I want a snack. You hungry?” He pulls open his desk drawer, eyes on me. I’m about to remind him I just had lunch when I see the king-sized package of peanut M&Ms.

It’s the most glorious sight of my life.

“Starving!” I cup my hand next to his, and he winks.

“I mean, we’re not on a date,” he reminds me, and tosses a handful in his mouth. “You find your own snack.”

Round Three: Seth.

F
IFTEEN

“A
re we really going to start every practice session like this?” Keiran lowers his shoulders and hangs his head toward me, clearly fed up with my favorite trick.

It’s our fourth day of training, and the third I’ve started like this. “You’re glam right we are,” I reply. “Deal with it.”

I take off running through the field, dragging my feet through the knee-high grass, and Keiran laughs behind me. I lift my arms, gathering the air in my outstretched fingers. I run until I’m in the middle, surrounded by a sea of navy. I spread my arms open wide and concentrate, waiting for the tingle to pour over them. As soon as it starts, I close my eyes and grin, biting my lip.

I love this part.

A breeze flutters over me, barely lifting my hair and fluttering the very tips of the grass. There’s a collection of jingles, like a hundred tiny bells ringing, and it grows louder as the wind picks up. I relax, letting the power flow through me, conversing with the air.

I open my eyes and watch as the wind grows stronger, bending the grass and twisting the random bursts of jeweled wildflowers.

“Don’t get too crazy,” Keiran calls.

I know, I know. Air’s the easiest element to hide, but Alexander’s warned me more than once not to get too comfortable. I rein it in a bit—if anyone were to come along, they’d just see me enjoying the effects of the breeze on the field. Who’s to say I’m the one controlling it?

Each type of flower produces a different tone, until we’re surrounded by a symphony of sound. Sam would groan at the ruckus I cause. I bet he’d be able to stir the field into one of his familiar melodies, rather than my haphazard way of creating tunes out here.

I can’t wait to bring him here.

My hair whips around my face, and I turn in a slow circle. My chest swells with pure elation.

“All right,” Keiran calls, folding his arms. “Time to move on.”

I sigh and let go of the air, gasping as the power drains away. The wind dies down and the field goes still, replacing harmony with silence.

“Killjoy,” I say, when I’m close enough for him to hear.

“Showoff,” he responds, and I laugh.

We head back through the willows. “What are we doing today, professor?” I ask.

Keiran raises his eyebrows. “Fire.”

We were supposed to work on fire yesterday, but we couldn’t find a place secluded enough to mess around with it. Fire’s a hard one to hide. I’m anxious to get started on it. The sooner I master my powers, the sooner I can go after Mom and Sam on my own.

“You found a practice spot?” I ask.

He grins and rolls his eyes downward, which can only mean he’s up to no good. “I thought of the perfect place. Nobody’s there. Completely uninhabited. Lots and lots of space.” He leans forward and whispers, “The Between.”

My body tingles. The Between! It’s brilliant, actually. He’s right. Totally private and all the space in the world. Infinite areas to practice my powers. Maybe we could even go back to the Source. I’d like to experience that connection again, especially now that I have a better handle on my powers.

“You’re a genius,” I announce, and he bows.

“I know.” He points to the lone blue willow tree growing amid the purple ones.

Look for what doesn’t belong
.

“That’s a gate?”

“Yep.”

He sweeps the long, hanging leaves to the side with one hand and reaches for me with the other. Slipping into the Between makes me notice just how noisy Ellauria is. The stillness wraps around me like a hug. I feel at home, as much as I can without my family, and I take a moment to appreciate the peace.

“You like it here, huh?” Keiran asks.

I smile. “It’s the most breathtaking place I’ve ever seen.”

He glances around and nods. “It’s beautiful. Let’s get away from the gate a bit. We need to find an open spot for you to practice. Triple score if you see a pond.”

Water is a must. The only reason I’d agreed to mess with fire at all was because I’ve become comfortable enough with water to know that, if necessary, I could use it to extinguish the flames.

The Last Muralet Sets the Between on Fire—I can imagine how well that story would go over.

Seth would be so proud.

We walk along the path, my eyes scanning one direction while Keiran checks out another. Something shines through the thick tree trunks, and closer inspection reveals a tiny green pond with a decent amount of open space around it, surrounded by tall oaks and dotted with sunflowers.

“This’ll work,” Keiran says. He takes a few steps away from me. “You ready?”

I flex my fingers and crack my knuckles, running through all my pre-game stretches before we get started. There’s already a tingle in my fingers, which is odd. I mention it to Keiran, and he nods. “Now that you’ve gotten used to accessing your powers, you’ll notice that a lot. And here in the Between, your powers will be stronger than anywhere else. You draw magic from Mother Nature’s designs. The Between is her untouched handiwork.”

“Really?” I can’t let that statement go by without testing it. Before I take another breath, a broad gust of wind howls through the branches over our heads, and I cover my mouth with my hands. Wow. That would’ve been a gentle breeze in Ellauria.

Keiran peers upward. “Satisfied?”

I smile and shrug. It’ll take a few tries to adjust to the strength of my power here.

“All right. Let’s talk about fire.” Keiran flips his hand over and a glowing ball of flames appears in his palm. “Alexander drilled me forever on it last night, because fire’s so different from the other elements we’ve worked with. When you control fire, you’re interacting with the energy the sun leaves all around you. It’s one of the fastest elements at your call, but he wanted me to warn you that it’s likely to be pretty exhausting.”

Keiran bounces the fireball in his hand while he talks, drawing his fingers upward to balance it on the tips, then flattening them again so it drops back into his palm. He crosses one hand over the other and the flame transfers, and then does the same trick with his opposite hand. It’s mesmerizing.

“Now who’s the showoff?” I ask with a smile.

He grins, floating the fireball between hands. “Let me enjoy the few minutes I have left of being able to do something you can’t.”

“How do
you
do it?”

He tilts his head to one side and then the other. “Well, for me, the flames come from inside. True flamethrowers hold flames at their fingertips all the time, so they flick their wrists to pitch it wherever they want. As a hybrid, it works a little differently for me.”

I keep forgetting he’s not a full-blooded anything. “About the hybrid thing—how’d that happen?”

Keiran gives me a look over the top of the fire, then tosses it into the pond. It lands with a sizzle. “Well, Charlotte,” he says in a deep, serious voice, “when a man and a woman really like each other—”

I burst out laughing, cutting him off. “I know how you were conceived, jackhole. I mean, how did Whalen end up with your mom?”

He shrugs. “I guess he was lonely. Dad lost everything when PC banished him. His friends, his family, whatever life he had, you know? He had to start over. So he did.”

I still can’t get used to the idea of Whalen being someone’s dad. It simply doesn’t fit with anything else I know of him. “Don’t call him Dad.”

“But he
is
my dad, Charlie.” Keiran lowers his eyes. “That’s who I am.”

“Bullsheet. He doesn’t define you;
you
define you.”

He shakes his head. “I define myself based on what he’s done. When your father is the most hated man in the mystical realm, you figure out what to do to make people like you. So I’m charming.” He pauses, shaking his head, and quietly adds, “I’m as manipulative as he is.”

There’s a noticeable change in Keiran’s demeanor. His forehead creases, his shoulders slump, and his entire relaxed persona disappears. It’s Keiran without his mask—the real, damaged boy who feels the pressure of his father’s mistakes. Tears form behind my eyes. I’m more sure of him than he is of himself.

We’re opposite sides of the same coin, both blaming ourselves for things we couldn’t have stopped.

“You’ve adapted to the life you were dealt,” I tell him. “That doesn’t make you manipulative. It makes you a survivor.”

It’s what we’re all doing, I guess. Surviving the circumstances we were born into. I inherited the hatred of a lapsed founder. Keiran was born under the stigma of a traitor. It’s not like we have any choice in the matter.

“There’s an awful lot of evil in him,” he says softly, holding my gaze. “You don’t think I’ve got just a little of that in me?”

I walk forward until the toes of our shoes are touching, forcing him to look at me. I need him to know he’s better than his bloodline, that the horrible person we’re all fighting is no part of him. He needs to see himself through my eyes. Whoever taught him to hate himself was a fool. “No. Do you know how easy it would’ve been for you to go in the other direction? To follow in Whalen’s footsteps? And look at you. You chose to come here to help the Fellowship stop him.”

“I want the Fellowship to
save
him,” he blurts out.

Whoa.

I step back. It’s probably the last thing I expected him to say. Is saving Whalen even an option? How do you rescue someone from himself?

“I know you must think it’s crazy,” he says.

“Keiran, I—”

“Don’t.” He turns to the side, almost putting his back to me, and rests both hands on top of his head. “I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t expect anyone to. I’ve never told anyone. I don’t know why I just told you.”

I reach for him, then let my hand fall. I know why he told me. He told me for the same reason I believe in him—our lives became forever intertwined the day my mother abandoned me to protect me from his father. On the surface it hardly makes sense. We should be enemies. Instead, we’re connected by tragic events that defined us and ultimately cost each of us a parent.

He told me because he needed to tell someone, and I’m the only someone he trusts.

Keiran drops his eyes and speaks to the grass. “He was a founder, you know? There was a time when he loved the Fellowship. I know he’d have to be locked up for a while, but if we could get him to Ellauria, I think he’d remember.”

I can’t fathom the idea of saving someone like Whalen—the man who stalked my mother into hiding, ordered the murder of hundreds of creatures at the lake just to show that he could, and, most importantly, the man who’s keeping my family from me. Keiran talks about Whalen like he’s the victim, but he lost everything because of the choices he made.

His
choices.

I twist the hem of my shirt. Bring Whalen to Ellauria? As far as I can tell, Whalen has brought nothing but pain to Ellauria—to my mother, to the creatures he’s killed, and even to Keiran. Why would I want to bring that monster there?

“He’d still be powerless.” I form my sentences gently. Keiran’s holding on to the idea of a man I’m not sure exists anymore. Whatever Whalen used to be, he’s pure evil now. “He even turned on you, his own son, when you developed your powers. You think bringing him to Ellauria would make things better?”

Let’s not forget the reason he was banished—he wasn’t powerful enough, and he was willing to kill for it.

Keiran’s eyes glisten, and I pretend not to notice. “Don’t misunderstand,” he says, his voice shaky. “I sympathize with the man who was once my father, not with the man who exists now. I just want to find a way to get rid of one and find the other. I’d spend every day telling him how good he is, how good he can be. I’d make him remember. No matter how long it takes.”

This must be what heartbreak feels like. Watching his eyes cloud over, seeing his light fade—it’s physically painful. He’s as desperate to save Whalen as I am to rescue Mom and Sam.

Is it possible to bring all three back?

I wrap my arms around him and pull him tightly against me. Keiran exhales against my neck. Something aches low in my chest, deepening with every breath.

I let him lean on me while I replay every single encounter I’ve had with Keiran in my mind—every story, every joke, every laugh. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother here, and the pain he’s in is very much my own.