Super Powereds: Year 3 (116 page)

           
      
A soft grunt of pain escaped Roy’s lips as he tried to counter, only to find that Chad had slipped out of range in the brief window after he dealt the blow to Roy’s ribs. Even giving it his all, Roy had trouble keeping up with Chad’s movements; the damned guy was as slippery as a greased pig rolling across a plastic tarp. Still, he was managing to give back some pain, even if it was only a little, and that made this into a genuine fight.

           
      
As Roy sucked in a breath and contemplated his next move, he realized that his change in strategy might have come too late. His ribs were definitely bruised, possibly on their way to broken. Once Chad had them good and cracked, all he’d have to do is land a solid punch, and Roy would lose his focus due to the pain. Being woozy around Chad would basically be the same as giving up; he knew far too many tricks of incapacitation for Roy to have any hope of surviving the encounter. That meant any damage he needed to do had to happen in the next few exchanges. Roy probably had one attack, maybe two, before his ribs shattered, and Chad had a weak spot to exploit.

           
      
Roy ignored the protests of pain in his torso as he gulped down a lungful of air. One direct hit. If he could just land one direct hit, it could change the tide of battle. Chad might be quick and smart and have every other advantage there was in a brawl, but Roy Daniels could swing a goddamned fist like few others. He’d just have to make that be enough.

*          
      
*          
      
*

           
      
“Will there be any explanation to go with that wildly cryptic statement, or are you just going to leave it there?”

           
      
“I thought a student of Subtlety like yourself would recognize a hint when she was handed one,” Abridail replied. “You’re trying to pump me for information that I can’t give, so this is me meeting you halfway.”

           
      
“By telling me I have no destiny?”

           
      
“No, that people
like
you have no destiny.” Abridail leaned in a bit closer, despite the fact that there was technically no need to whisper. “While this is nothing more than a pet theory of mine, you’re not the only one who fits the criteria. You’re not even the only one in your own dormitory.”

           
      
“Interesting.” Alice filed that fact away, deciding to mull it over properly when she had the time. “Maybe we should try something different. You’re sticking firm to the not telling me about my mother thing, but you indicated that you know quite a lot more than just where she’s been all these years. What can you tell me?”

           
      
“A great many things, about a great many people,” Abridail said. “Though only a fraction of a fraction of it would concern you. Some of it you would find exceptionally fascinating, though. For example: how many uncles do you think you have?”

           
      
“So far as I know, none. Then again, given that my father apparently lied to me about my mother being dead, it wouldn’t be that shocking if you told me I had one squirreled away somewhere.” Alice hated the fact that her father had fallen so far in her esteem that the idea of him covering up another human’s existence was readily believable, but he really had no one to blame but himself for that.

           
      
“Oh, they’re far from squirreled away. In fact, two of them are among the people you see most frequently. I mean, you do have Control and Subtlety classes five days a week, after all.”

           
      
Alice tilted her head back, and her eyes narrowed as she stared at the invader in her mind who was clearly trying to peddle bullshit. “Are you telling me that Professor Hill and Professor Pendleton are my uncles? Fucking hell, you’re just some nut job aren’t you? Some dick of a Super that goes around jumping into people’s dreams and telling them things they might desperately want to hear just to fuck with them.” Her exasperation was quickly turning to anger, and around them, the attendants of the spa seemed to blink out of existence as the sound of thunder echoed on some unseen horizon.

           
      
“I’d appreciate it if you backed me up here. It’s why I waited for you in the first place.” Abridail was staring not at Alice, as she’d initially thought, but past her. He was looking at something over her shoulder and, as Alice turned, she caught sight of a familiar figure, one she’d have recognized even if it weren’t abnormally short.

           
      
“He’s telling the truth, Alice.” Mary took a few steps forward, away from the door she’d come through that Alice was certain hadn’t been there moments before. “Nick figured it out a while back, and I overheard it from his thoughts, but I didn’t want to say anything without having solid evidence. Good as he is, sometimes Nick leaps to conclusions.”

           
      
“Wait, hang on, my teachers are my
uncles
? How is that possible? And how are you here?” The anger faded quickly from Alice as confusion retook its spot in the forefront of her mind.

           
      
“Someone must have put your hands together a while back. I sensed the moment Mary’s mind was linked to yours, and knew it would only be a matter of time until she found her way here.” Abridail finished off his smoothie, then rose from the bar stool, pausing only to smooth out his crisp suit jacket. “Now that she’s here, we can finally begin in earnest. Are you two ready to go sightseeing?”

           
      
“That depends. Where are you taking us?” Alice asked.

“Oh, we’ll be staying right here, safely in your mind. I merely want to share with you something your mother has been looking at all these years,” Abridail said. “If you’ll permit me a little more freedom to shape this world, then I can take you to see the future.”

215.

Despite his promise that they would be staying in Alice’s mind, the world certainly seemed to change as soon as Alice gave Abridail permission. The spa vanished as the world stretched outward, the soft glow of the lamps shrinking down to small pinpricks of light. Within moments, it seemed as though they were hanging in the void of space, racing across glowing bridges that ran between the stars.

           
      
He piloted them over the bridges wordlessly, shifting the world around them even though they were technically standing still. As they hurtled through this new realm, Mary was struck by how bright it all was. She’d always imagined space would be dark, the light of the stars too far away to feel, but out here, they burned and pulsed, flickering into and out of existence at irregular intervals.

           
      
“Where are we?” Alice was the one who asked the question, her mouth hanging open as she stared in wide-eyed wonder at the infinite skyscape around them. It was easy to think that they were worldly and jaded after seeing the marvels other Supers could produce, but standing out here was a keen reminder of just how young they were, and how little of the world they had truly experienced.

           
      
“This . . . is
my
world.” Abridail’s words were heavy, his tone somber as he gazed up at the sea of twinkling lights surrounding them. Mary supposed the effect never entirely wore off, and she could see why.

           
      
“Forgive the slight delay; before I show you your mother’s visions, I need to mentally formulate every detail accurately. While we wait, I thought you might enjoy glimpsing the world as I see it. Every light you see here is a dream. Some last forever, as their owners return each night. Others burn only for moments, dying away before they’ve had the chance to reach their true glory. Each is as unique as the mind that summons them. I’ve spent most of my life walking amidst the dreams, and I’ve yet to see two that are quite the same.”

           
      
The space between worlds twisted under Alice and Mary’s feet. Neither was sure what he was conjuring, or if it was a good idea to allow him this much power, but they were set on seeing it through. Whatever Abridail knew, it was something they couldn’t walk away from. Not with so few clues as to what was going on around them.

           
      
“Earlier, you said we were going to see the future,” Alice said, her voice falling away after a few feet, as though the darkness between stars was devouring it. “Did you misspeak?”

           
      
“I told you before, there is no set future.” Abridail didn’t turn around as he spoke, but his words reached her and Mary without effort. “There are only the most probable ones looming before us. Those are what your mother can see, and what I feel it’s time you were given a glimpse of as well.”

           
      
“Why? I mean, why bother telling us this? Why do we get to see these futures?” Mary asked. She dearly missed her telepathy, as she would have given almost anything to poke around in this mysterious man’s head.

           
      
This time, Abridail did turn around, though Mary almost wished he hadn’t. The levity that had been on his face since she’d first walked into Alice’s dream was gone, and in its place was a seriousness that made her wonder if he was about to tell her the secret to life itself.

           
      
“Because, there is a crossroads coming soon, one that splits the potential futures into two general categories. One of those is something I would dearly like to not see come to pass. And as to why you two are being shown this glimpse, rather than someone else, it only seemed appropriate that you be given the warning.” Abridail turned away once more, but they still heard his next words as crisp and clear as the previous ones.

           
      
“After all, you five are at the center of what causes the split.”

*          
      
*          
      
*

           
      
“It was a good fight.” Camille took her hand away from Roy’s face, and as she did, he noticed that his cheek wasn’t throbbing with pain anymore. A deep breath confirmed that his ribs were no longer broken, and as he stood, Roy could feel his right leg bearing weight once more.

           
      
“Thanks. I thought I almost had him at the end. Also, thanks for the healing. You really do some top notch patch-jobs.”

           
      
Roy stood to the side, allowing Chad to receive Camille’s healing next. Technically, the blond Super could heal his own wounds, but it made more sense to conserve his energy while simultaneously feeding Camille’s arsenal. Chad was mostly uninjured, save for the fractured shoulder that Roy had managed to give him on their last confrontation. It had been meant to crack his sternum, but Chad dodged, and when he hit Roy’s ribs that time, it had filled the larger man’s brain with shockwaves of pain. By the time he regained control of his senses, he’d been on the ground with a cracked shin and several bruises. It had been close, just not close enough.

           
      
“You are a strong son of a bitch, you know that?” Professor Cole walked across the combat cell, a single bandage wound around Roy’s bat as she held it out to him. “If you’d tried to hit anyone else in your class like that—hell, if you hadn’t gotten permission from Chad first—I probably would have had to stop the fight for attempted use of lethal force.”

           
      
“I don’t know about ‘anyone’ in the class,” Roy said as he accepted his bat. It felt heavy, yet familiar, as he tightened his grip. “Vince could have absorbed it, Sasha could have avoided it, Thomas’s armor probably could have held up against, and Violet would have been fine if she was in extra-dense mode; when you get down to it, a lot of the class would have been fine if I’d hit them.”

           
      
“No, they wouldn’t have. What you just listed were three people with methods to prevent the force of your punch from reaching them, people who would be turned to pudding if those methods failed, and one who
might
be able to withstand it if she were in the form that gave her maximum durability. You can see why I wouldn’t have been able to just let you go throwing those full-power punches willy-nilly. You’re stronger than you think you are; which is saying a lot, because I know how big your ego is.”

           
      
“Too bad it wasn’t enough to make the difference,” Roy said. He’d known going in that he couldn’t beat Chad; their abilities were just too at odds for him to triumph. Still, he would have liked to have seen some sign of progress. Hitting Chad a couple of times was nice, but Roy wanted more. He wanted to know that these last years of endless training had yielded tangible results, ones he could actually see.