Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy (18 page)

“It’s
fine,” I say. I shake my head and laugh. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

I
climb into the car and am surprised when Hope offers me an almost pleasant
sounding
happy birthday
. Before I can thank her, she shoves a notebook
at me and says, “Here’s all the stuff I’ve decoded from my grandpa’s notes.
Most of it is stuff you already know, but I did find a few interesting things.”

“Oh,”
I say, “thanks. I didn’t even know you were helping Casey with this.”

“My
grandpa taught me the key years ago. He thought I might need to know it one
day, and I guess he was right,” she says, the words getting more and more bitter
as she spits them out.

Lance
and I glance at each other, but don’t comment on her anger.

“So,
uh, what did you find that was interesting?” I ask. I’ve been getting bits and
pieces of information from Casey over the last two weeks, but she was having a
hard time getting through the notes. I flip through the notebook to find half
of it filled. I can’t believe Hope was able to translate so much so quickly.

“Mostly
it’s just stuff he found while he was doing research about you, stories about
the Guardians lying and hiding the truth about who you were and what you were
meant to do. He found stories and writings talking about how you used to be
hailed as a savior of sorts instead of this horrible thing everyone was
terrified of,” Hope says. She goes on to tell me a few of them. They’re
actually pretty interesting and she keeps both Lance and I entertained all the
way to school. And through first hour, and in between classes, and up until our
calculus teacher finally lets us out.

In
the hallway, she grabs me before I can take off for my next class. “Oh, and there’s
this whole poem he found that talks about how the Destroyer would come when the
world was so corrupt and evil that it was tearing itself apart. The Destroyer
wasn’t going to kill everyone like we hear now, just the bad people. Then she
would rebuild the world in a better way. It was actually a pretty neat story.
It’s in the notebook if you want to read it.”

“Definitely.
I’d love to.”

I’d
be thrilled to see something written about me that wasn’t condemning and
hateful. I’m not sure I even know how to react to something like that. I cannot
image the whole world believing in me, waiting and hoping for me to come with
anything other than terror. Low, simmering anger at the Guardians for twisting
my destiny into something to be feared rumbles in the pit of my stomach.
Without their lies, I never would have had to hide who I am. My dad wouldn’t be
dead. Maybe my mom would maybe even like me. I wouldn’t have spent years
fearing my own death. One year from now wouldn’t be a deadline, it would be a
moment to look forward to and celebrate the full release of my talents. My
heart groans, the grief of everything I’ve lost becoming too heavy for a
moment. They stole so much from me.

“Another
thing I found in his notes was kind of weird. I don’t really know what it
means, but it was this word that popped up several times. I think it was a name,
or title. My grandpa said he only found the mention of it in a few really old
writings, but he thought it was important,” Hope says, not paying any attention
to the staring and cringing and insults from a few of the other students as they
walk past us in the hallway. I wish I was that good at being single-minded. I
try not to glare back at them and pay attention to what Hope is still saying.
Yikes, she’s talkative when she gets going. Lance doesn’t seem to mind. His
eyes are neatly fastened to her.

“It
sounded like this person was meant to help you destroy the evil in the world,”
Hope says. “Like I said, only a few really old writings mentioned it, but it
sounded like without this person you wouldn’t be able to do what you needed to do
and you would fail. Not very encouraging, I guess, but it was only mentioned
rarely.”

“What
was the word?” I ask.

“Socius.”

“What
does that mean?” Lance asks.

“Well,
I couldn’t figure out what it meant for forever. I found it in his notes last
week, but I had no idea how to interpret it. I thought my grandpa would explain
it somewhere in his notes, but he never did. I guess he already knew what it
meant so he didn’t bother writing it down for us,” Hope says. “Anyway, it
wasn’t until I showed it to Casey that we figured it out. I guess she’s taking
Latin, for some reason. She knew what it meant right away.”

Not
that I’m not glad Hope is talking to me like a regular person rather than
yelling and threatening everyone around her—Lance must be a very good influence
on her—but this explanation could have been a fraction as long as it’s been. The
bell’s about to ring, and I really can’t afford to be late to any of my
classes. “What did the word mean?” I ask a little impatiently.

“Companion.”

My
eyes double in size and my lungs completely fail me. My fingers snap to
Braden’s braided white strand hidden among my beaded bracelets. Lance’s
knuckles have turned white on the strap of his backpack, as well. Neither of us
looks at each other. We don’t need to. I have talked to him about how I feel
nothing of the Companion connection between me and Braden anymore. I stole that
part of him when I stole his talents. It’s gone, forever.

“It
could mean someone else,” Lance says quietly.

“You
know it doesn’t.”

There
is only one Spiritual Companion for each person. No do-overs, no sorry I
accidentally broke mine, no second chances. My one perfect power compliment is
ruined.

Maybe
whoever wrote that word had no idea what they were talking about. Maybe it’s a
mistranslation. Who’s to say it isn’t just a made up tale to make it more
interesting when they told it to their kids at night? History is plagued by
myth and legend.

I
want to argue that this one word only found in the oldest stories of my destiny
can’t possibly be right. I want to, but I know the older it is, the more likely
the Guardians never tampered with it. They were always the people’s protectors
and armies, but only a few hundred years ago did the Guardians become this all-encompassing
source of law and right and wrong. They have contaminated my heritage over the
centuries they’ve had control of the information. How many of their leaders would
think to try and erase some obscure Latin story only a select few have ever
seen?

No
matter how hard I try to tell myself this isn’t right, the deep sense of truth
pouring into my soul won’t let me really believe it. Through the rest of my
classes, it’s all I can think about. Abuses from students like Angus and his
crew don’t faze me. Jen slinking around behind me in the hallways trying to
catch me doing or saying something that will get me in trouble, or reveal
something newsworthy only slightly irritates me.

The
only thing that does manage to slip into my thoughts, even if only vaguely, is
the way Milo is acting today. Outwardly, he is acting completely normal,
sitting next to me in Perception, silently walking with me to my next class. He
never once speaks to me, and I deicide it’s better not to push him. We go
silently through our day together. There are so many other things on my mind at
the moment. Hope’s words fill my mind completely, making me more frightened
than I have been in a long time. And that’s saying something.

I
was trying to save Braden’s life. More than my own life, I wanted to protect
his. I did it. I thought of the one way I could break his Oath and stop him
from killing me. But I may have doomed the entire world at the same time. My
fingers slide up to the Destroyer pendant around my neck and grip it tightly. I
have to fix this. I have to find a way to make Braden my Companion again. If I
want to save the world, I have to save him first.

It’s
impossible. That’s what everyone will say. I know they’re right. But I’ve done
impossible things before.

Chapter15

In My Pocket

As I stare out my car
window at Braden’s townhome, all I can think about is my promise to Milo. It
hurt when he walked away from me yesterday. His accusations battle against
Lance’s assurances that leaving Braden to fend for himself would be callous.
But it’s not even just about Braden’s safety anymore. It’s about the fate of
the entire world. I tried to find Milo after school and tell him about the
Socius, but our fight yesterday is still too fresh. I made it out to the
parking lot only to see his break lights tearing away from school. Calling him
got me nowhere.

I
asked Lance and Hope to keep it to themselves until I have the chance to talk
to Milo about it. My plan had been to discuss it with him before I came to
Braden’s, but I feel like I’m running out of time. If I don’t convince Braden
to let me help him, now, Drake may come back first and finish what Blackwood
started. I can’t risk that, even if it means inciting even more of Milo’s anger
at me.

I
won’t let Braden die, but I have to figure out a way to give him back his
talents if I have any hope of surviving. For that, I’m willing to break my
promise to Milo. Before, I justified watching his house. I told myself I wasn’t
really breaking my promise because I wasn’t talking to Braden, or even seeing
him. I was quietly protecting him, that was all. As I push the door to my
Bronco open, I know that this time I cannot tell myself I’m doing anything
other than exactly what Milo asked me not to do.

The
guilt walking across the street inspires in me makes my hands shake, but I
don’t turn back. The neighborhood is silent as I step onto the sidewalk in
front of Braden’s townhome. Each step I take is a plea for me to reconsider. I
am focused on my goals, but part of me is terrified that the moment I see
Braden my resolve will crumble. When I reach the front door, my hand rises
automatically, but I don’t knock. I think.

If
I knock on the door, I’m risking my relationship with Milo. Am I willing to do
that? I know the Socius story is true. I have little evidence to substantiate
that belief, but my instincts have convinced me without a doubt. If I don’t
keep Braden from getting killed and figure out how to give him back his talents,
I will fail. The Guardians’ plans will ruin the world. Whatever sick creations
they are making out of Ciphers will destroy the world, no help from me needed.
This is something else I am convinced of. Am I willing to risk Milo hating me
forever to stop the Guardians? My heart aches, threatens to break completely,
but I know the answer to this question. Yes.

My
knock seems to echo through the silence.

It
is answered with the same.

I
knock again with the same result, knocking harder after that. Part of me says I
should walk away, but I have decided. I won’t leave now. I give up on knocking,
but I’m not completely convinced he isn’t home. Given Blackwood and Drake
showing up at his house the other day, I’d keep the alarm on twenty-four-seven
and not answer the door, too. I walk around to the driveway and lift up on my
toes to peek into his garage. Empty. He really is gone.

I
stand in the driveway staring at nothing for several long minutes, thinking. I’m
sure Braden knows I’ve been watching his house. If he wanted to see me, he
would have tried by now. Fear that he will see my Bronco and refuse to answer
the door even when he does get home forces me to reconsider my plan. If I’m
already inside when he gets back, it will be harder for him not to at least
give me a chance to talk.

I
glance around the street looking for more of the curious neighbors that saved
Braden’s life last time. I appreciated their attentiveness then, but they might
cause me some serious legal troubles if they’re around right now. I carefully
check the windows of each house and scan the barren sidewalks a few more times
before turning away from the garage. The nice thing about Braden’s neighborhood
is that it’s mainly families with older kids and parents who work. At four in
the afternoon, it’s pretty dead.

A
few quick steps bring me back to my Bronco parked a little ways down from his
house. Several minutes later, I find what I need and head back to the front
door. I select the half-diamond pick from the set Braden gave me and get to
work. It takes me longer than it would have taken him, but I’m still done in
less than a minute. My lock picks go back into my pocket and I slip inside the
house. Closing and relocking the door behind me, I hurry over to the alarm
panel. I quickly enter the code Braden gave me and reset it. I stand in the
entry, frozen by the fact that I just broke in to Braden’s house.

The
day we went to pick up Dean from Texas, Braden broke into Milo’s car to get my
bag out of it. He’d already broken into my motel room a few months earlier.
After he admitted to having a juvenile record for stealing cars and joyriding
in them, I eventually asked him to teach me how to pick locks just in case I
ever needed the skill. Knowing how often I end up in precarious situations, he
agreed. I picked it up pretty fast, though he is much better than I am. He
never did teach me how to break into a car, though. That hardly matters right
now. What matters is that I am standing in Braden’s house. How he will react to
that, I have no idea. How Milo will react, that I’m sure I can guess, but I
step further into the house to wait.