The Pentrals (26 page)

Someone comes over, a dock attendant, bringing us both cups of hot tea. I drop Ben’s hand and obediently sip the drink, but it’s worthless. It doesn’t provide the warmth I need.

Thomas walks over and asserts his body between us, his face full of doubt. “You both okay?” he says, eying us carefully.

“I’m fine, just cold,” Ben answers, his eyes dark, full of questions. Both boys stare at me now, my game of make-believe unraveling. Dual timelines run through my head, separate lives coursing simultaneously. I sort through the clutter, trying to assume the correct role to play. I cannot be in both places at once. I don’t have time to pretend.

Time. With a click, my mind comes into focus. There is somewhere I need to be. Lumon Square. How long was I in the water? Have I missed my meeting with Mr. West and my chance to stop the Reflections?

“What time is it?” I ask, panic lacing my words.

“I don’t know, noon maybe? What does it matter?” Thomas responds.

“No, I just…”

“Violet, what is going on?”

My tongue is tied. I just need to grab Mary’s glasses. The glasses!

“Do you know what happened to my glasses?” I ask, almost shouting.

“This is what you’re worried about? A pair of glasses?” Thomas is losing his patience. “First I catch you two holding hands, and then you abandon ship together…”

“I know,” I say, touching his arm with my icy hand. “It doesn’t make sense. But I need them.”

“They went over with me,” Ben interjects. He’s the only one who understands their importance. I wonder what else he knows. I want to pause this current scene, pull him aside and ask if he saw what I saw. Our past life together. But no, I’ll have to let it go. I have to focus on what’s happening now. The past is the past; I can only impact the present. “My dad and Thomas fished us out. I don’t know what happened to them.”

“Could you go look?” I turn to Thomas, touching his face. It’s what Violet would do. His eyes are cold but seem to warm to my touch. “Please?”

He sighs, exhausted from frustration but unable to spurn his love’s request. “I’ll go check on board.”

“I’ll help,” Ben offers. Thomas stiffens. “I need to grab some dry clothes anyway.”

They head off, two friends walking side yet with a cavern between them. What trouble I have caused. I hope completing my mission will make amends.

As I wait, I take several deep breaths, trying to prepare for what’s to come. It doesn’t matter what I saw, it won’t help me with the Class Fours. I may have failed in that life, unable to uncover a mystery before me, but I won’t let it happen again.

Mr. Kelly is nowhere to be seen. Is he back on his yacht, changing into warmer clothes? Did he grab the glasses? Tuck them away so no one can uncover the mirripulations? I hope not. I’d rather them fall to the bottom of the lake than end up in his possession.

Thomas returns, empty handed. “I can’t find them. Violet, you’re soaked. I’m going to get my carpod and take you home, okay?”

I nod, though I have no intention of leaving with him. Even without the glasses, I have to go. As soon as his back is turned, I take off running, headed to the square.

Goodbye, Thomas
, I think.

The streets are packed with people. They are happily, sloppily, ridiculously partying. Dancing, laughing, so different from when I left the dock. I wonder how much of the
Lift!
cloud remains, if its potency has worn off. I cannot see any mist but the commotion makes it difficult to tell.

Their amusement is contagious. The further I push into the crowd, the more I feel lost, though I’m certain I’m headed in the right direction. My run slows to a jog, then a walk, then more of a clumsy stumble. The air, something is slowing me down. I feel foggy, but happy, like the details of my mission are growing dim. Less pressing, less important. Slipping away down a curving slope. Why am I here again?

No! Focus, Antares. The Square. Get to the Square.

Right. I can do this. But with every step, I lose conviction. There is music playing, somewhere. I’m not sure where it’s coming from. I look all around, but become fixated on an arrangement of twinkling lights up above. They are so pretty, like fireflies, flickering to the beat. I sway with them. It’s nice here.

Nothing seems to matter. Not even the mirrors. They are everywhere, everywhere. But somehow, my Reflection has taken a break. She’s not so scary anymore. Her monstrous form, replaced with Violet’s shining face, greets me from every building, every surface. Dreamily, I touch the mirrored side of a street vendor’s cart, running my fingers along the reflected strands of Violet’s hair.
There you are. Where have you been?

Wait. I am confused. Why did the Reflection change? Did I do it? Complete my mission without realizing? Make the Class Fours see? It doesn’t seem right, yet there in the glass, my Person has returned to her normal state. What caused this?

I keep walking. Slowly, slowly. I’m almost to Lumon Square. Mr. West will be there—he’ll know what’s going on.

“Violet!” Someone’s calling for me. Mr. West? No. I spin around and Ben’s there. Looking like he did in my vision. Like a dream. He’s run after me.

“Hey. I was worried. Why did you take off like that?” His hands are on my shoulders. So warm.

“I… I…” I can’t think straight. I place my hands on his arms, so firm and strong.
Help me focus
, I think.
Keep me steady
. The heat between our skin ignites me, and it feels so good, so impossibly right, I want to keep the current flowing for as long as possible. Everything is turning inside out: a haze of right and wrong, then and now. My inhibitions are gone, and I pull him closer. I know I should be elsewhere, I’m not supposed to do this. I wrap my arms around his waist, he does not resist. Ben. What he is, how he got here: does it matter? If we’re together, reunited, isn’t that what’s important? So many rules, so many boundaries. I can’t take it anymore. I’m out of words; all that remains is desire.

And then he kisses me.

It is perfect. Not because of the physical touch of his lips or his hands lightly touching my face, but for the feeling behind it. At first I resist, knowing in the back of my mind how I am not meant to have this, but I am weak. Heat crackles between us, drawing us closer together. I want this. It’s what I’ve been craving all along. To feel a love that is deep, powerful, all consuming. A kiss with meaning behind it. A love that is mine, and mine alone. I am loved at last.

I want to stay like this forever, sharing this connection, but the moment ends too soon. Out of nowhere, a high-pitched scream pierces my ears, causing my knees to buckle. The spell is broken, my mind forced to focus. A loud, tortured sound, so close it feels like it’s emanating from within.

I pull away from Ben. “What was that?” I yell, covering my hands over my ears.

“W-What?” he stammers. He steps back, placing his hand to his chest like I just shot him through the heart. I can barely stand. The scream is rattling my bones, yet he seems unfazed by the sound. Am I the only one who hears it?

His face is troubled with other concerns. “I thought you wanted this,” he says. His disappointment leaves me gutted. I have hurt him; it’s the last thing I’d want to do. But I am unable to offer any comfort. The screech leaves me practically immobilized. I look down, unwilling to face his agonizing expression.
What could be worse
, I think. But there on the pavement lies my answer.

It is empty. A blank canvas of crushed glass beneath my feet. No black shape hovering below. No Shadow waiting. With the sun so high in the afternoon sky, Violet should be hanging on my heels in her deepest shade, yet she is nowhere to be seen.

The scream. It must be Violet, calling to me from the Pentral realm. They have taken her, snatched her away to draw me out, lure me into their grasp.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” Ben starts to run after me, grabbing my wrist.

“No, Ben!” I shout, shaking myself free. “Don’t follow me.”

“Violet…” he trails off, unable to connect the dots.

“Don’t,” I say, voice cracking. Then I leave, take off with him standing there, the only downturned expression in a crowd of euphoric lifters. But I can’t be with him now.

Howling in my ears, tears stinging my eyes, I fight my way to Lumon Square. Every time my glance meets glass, I see Violet’s face, aching with doubt. I’m tired, drained from the day’s events, but the screech propels me forward.

The Square has been given extra attention for the Festival. A sculpture of mirrors dominates the scene—rectangular panels angled up on the ground, radiating out from the circular fountain in the center. It is a sun, made of glass, bouncing every bit of its subject’s rays throughout the city. I search the crowd, not sure who to look for, when I feel a cold rush run through my back.

“Antares.” Mr. West’s hand freezes me. His face is solemn, his body calm for the first time in memory.

I do not echo his tranquility. “Mr. West! It’s Violet! She’s gone! I tried—“

“I know,” he says softly. “It’s time to go.”

Before I can ask where, my body finally gives out. Weary from the waves, hungry from a brush with happiness, strung out from the scream.

I collapse on a shiny mirror, my failure left for all to see.

* * 33 * *

W
hen I awake, Lumon Square has cleared. The streets of Talline are empty, and with no Persons around to block the sun’s rays, the entire scene is swathed in light. Pure, intense white exudes from everything in sight.

I move, and notice my form is light, no longer bound to the rules of gravity. I am free from Violet’s body. No more aches, no more feeling, no more touch. I try to look at my extremities, but cannot—with no body nearby to echo, there is nothing to see. A Shadow without a muse is nothing at all.

I wait, motionless, unknowing of what will happen next. What has happened to Violet, Mr. West, all the citizens of Talline mindlessly dancing around me moments ago? And Ben? I left him with nothing, no clue as to my retreat. I doubt I’ll ever get to answer him now.

The more I stare into the white void, the more I realize I cannot be in Talline. The illumination is too penetrating, too absolute, even for the city of glass. No, I have been taken somewhere else. Somewhere I’ve been but could never remember.

The Ether.

In a blink, I am not alone. The unblemished white is interrupted by two male figures of equal height and build, both with skin so golden it appears to be scraped off the sun. As they approach, their exteriors seem to move on their own, like liquid only slower. Rippling like oozing molten lava. Their form is human, but they are not normal; too perfect, simply ideal specimens of the race. And then I know who they are. Class Four.

I am hypnotized by their presence yet startled when they speak.

“Class Two, Shadow Realm, please rise,” says the figure on the left. He gestures to me with his left hand, and I see an oculoy imprinted on his wrist. It glitters, even more brilliantly than the one Mr. West sported. I float up, meeting them at eye level. I am not sure if I can communicate, but make no attempt.

“You are here because of your actions in the human world,” starts the figure on the right. “We have watched you recklessly assume identity in a body not of your own and set into motion actions outside your Person’s domain. No Pentral in your Class has ever been foolish enough to make such an attempt.”

I remain still, stunned by my own fear. There is nothing I can do to make up for my mistakes. I had hoped finding the glasses and revealing the Reflections’ negligence would relieve me of wrongdoing, help keep me on track toward retribution. But just like in my human life, I failed, unable to complete my mission. History repeating.

“You are an interesting case, Class Two,” says the Left, making no effort to hide his smug expression. “You found a way to escape your fate, free yourself from the servitude of Shadows, and yet you did not run. You could have taken that human form anywhere, done anything, with anyone. Still, you chose to stay. Why?”

I’m afraid to speak, yet the pair’s glittering gold eyes demand it. “I… I didn’t want anything to happen to Violet, my Person. I couldn’t let her pay for my actions.”

“Why not?” asks the Right. “Surely she never gave a second thought to your existence.”

“I watched her, every day, and knew she was good. Worth protecting. If I couldn’t live a life of my own, I wanted her to live for the both of us.”

“And was she? Living life to its fullest potential?”

“Yes, she was. She had love, people who cared about her. But it became hard for her to see.”

“And why was that?”

I look into their shining faces, calm and collected. They are safe in their high rank, their position of judgment. Maybe they’ve already decided my fate, chosen a nice building for me to Shadow for the rest of my existence. Nothing I say will make my position better or worse. I have stood in their shoes, watched from afar, thinking I know what is best. I have been wrong, time and again. Maybe it’s too late for me, but I won’t lose my sanity before giving them the complete picture.

“Because every time she looked in the mirror, she saw a monster. It was a horrifying mirripulation of who she really was and who she could be. The Reflections, Pentrals who should be under your command, are taking images and using them to torture. To make Persons feel like they are less than they are.” The Class Fours step back, surprised at my blatant insult, but I don’t care. I continue on. “I tried. I tried my best to find a way to stop them. It’s not right what they’re doing, and it’s not fair.”

They look at each other, the Left and the Right, with knowing, amused expressions. I have not shocked them as I had hoped, only confirmed their suspicions.

“Yes, we know of the Class Two Reflections,” Right sighs, a hint of boredom on his lips.

Their nonchalance angers me. “You know? Then why haven’t you done anything? Mr. West said you needed proof.”

“West is new to his rank. We wanted to see what he would do.” They chuckle, like evil conductors, applauding their manipulative orchestration.