The Pentrals (27 page)

“So, our efforts were for nothing?”

“No. We were watching you too.” I remember Mr. West’s words, about Class Four being upset about my switch, how they wanted to punish me. But watching their faces, tickled with satisfaction, I wonder if they manipulated him to push me further, to prove my worth. If they truly wanted me gone, they would have done so already.

Yes, of course. Why destroy me when I obviously have something to offer? They see something in me, something of value to them. Suddenly I feel as though I have the upper hand, a newfound power. They need me. But I need things too.

“Where is Mr. West?” I demand.

“Back on Earth.” Right waves his hand, as if it’s a non-issue. “He maintains his rank.”

“And Violet?”

“She resumes life as normal. In her body, where she belongs.”

I am relieved, but try not to appear too relaxed. I still need some answers. “So you’ll be returning me to her then?”

“Not so fast,” says the Left. “Your time in Class Two has come to an end.”

I feel like every particle within me is exploding, a finale of fireworks bursting through my essence. I was too bold, too brazen with my assumptions. With a few quick words, my insolence is brought to a halt.

“But…” I manage. It cannot be ending. Not like this. Why would they question me like this, dangle hope like bait? Panic rises within, and I take off, blazing through the white. Though when I move I find myself circling back to exactly where I started. There is no place to hide in this blinding void.

“Stop,” demands Right, holding up a flat golden palm. His oculoy shimmers on his skin. I freeze, my frightened form immobilized. Just like with Mr. West’s touch, they have influence over my movements, only the Class Fours seem to have the power to control from a distance. “That’s enough, Antares.”

The Left approaches, my essence paralyzed. “We brought you here for reassignment.” Any moment now, the words “Class One” will leave their shimmering lips, and I’ll be gone, banished to a life without choices, without options, without the ability to connect. I think of Blue, my fellow Pentral, struggling to reach out when I touched her. How desperately her mind searched for a way to communicate, yet was left with nothing to latch on to. If I wasn’t frozen, I would fall to the floor in despair.

“You have defied our realm, our rules, in unimaginable ways. Yet your ability to feel, connect to your emotions, gives you a strength too valuable to waste in Class One.” Left stares at me, penetrating eyes glittering like a pot of gold. “You are being promoted to Class Three.”

The Right lowers his hand, yet I remain motionless. Did I hear correctly?

“You want me to continue on?” I ask in disbelief. “After all I’ve done?”

“Precisely because of what you’ve done,” Left answers. “Dark forces are afoot in our realm and we need more help, more Pentrals like you, willing to attack. The Reflections have rebelled, and we seem to be outnumbered. We’ve lost control of them. They have found leadership elsewhere.”

I let his words settle. The Class Fours have been unable to stop the Reflections because they are answering to another. Who could be more terrifying than those who could restrict your sanity? I think back on my experience, the timelines I’ve seen, and one face pops up. He is the one who struck suspicion in the heart of his daughter, fear in the face of a celebrity, distrust in my own skin. William Kelly. He let me fall to my death when he thought I could uncover the truth—even his own child tried to stop the mirripulations. If I could straddle the lines between realms, who’s to say Mr. Kelly, the most powerful man in all Talline, couldn’t do the same?

“Your passion, your dedication toward revealing the truth, will aid us tremendously,” Right continues. “That is, of course, if you are up to the task.”

I am vibrating with excitement. “I accept,” I say in my most measured tone.

“Brilliant,” says Left. “Furthermore, we feel it would be advantageous to reinstate you in your previous body.”

I am confused. “But I thought you said Violet was back in her body.”

Right shakes his head. “Not your Person’s body,
your
body. From when you were human.”

I flash to the blonde girl in the mirror from my vision. Me. I will see myself again.

“Your feelings seem to fuel your fire, so we are giving you access to your past,” Left says. He comes closer, a warning written on his golden face. “Do not take this lightly. Being privy to these details—a true second chance—is not something we’ve granted for many Pentrals. We expect to be repaid for our generosity.”

I am elated. Not only will I keep my sanity, but I am regaining all I lost when I became a Shadow. My memories, dreams, ambitions, emotions will be restored and I will be whole, no longer searching for meaning in the lives of others. Once again I will be a Person.

But within my happiness is a sliver of doubt. Asserting my own identity means cutting ties with Violet. I’ve been by her side for so long, it’s almost like I know her better than I know myself. I’ve become so attuned to following, reacting; will I be able to stand strong on my own, without my Person next to me?

“Who will Shadow Violet?” I ask.

“We have reassigned a former Class One to follow her.”

“Oh.” It’s the best possible solution, I suppose. Another Pentral and I will each have a second chance. Still, it feels strange, knowing I won’t be with her every moment of the day, watching her live her life. Someone else will take my place. I will be free to do other things, see other people…

Ben. I think of him, standing gutted in the Festival crowd, but also holding me in a bed of soft cotton. His figure central in both of my existences. But how could he be there, loving the girl I used to be, and also back on Earth, living life in Talline? Has he always been so lost that he can’t choose where to stay?

Surely the Class Fours would know. “I need to ask about—“

“Your time here is done, Class Three.” Left dismisses me, bored with addressing a lesser rank.

“But—“

“We will contact you again soon.”

With a wave of a golden hand, the white flickers away, leaving me standing on the edge of a rocky cliff. The sun has nearly set, and while the sky above is dark, deep in the canyon below light continues to twinkle. A breeze blows a tangle of blonde across my view. I brush it aside, a glint of gold catching the corner of my eye. On my wrist is a tattoo, a bright and unblinking emblem awaiting my next move. The oculoy.

I am a Class Three.

I run my hands over this body, different from Violet’s slender frame. It is new, yet altogether familiar, like slipping on a favorite shirt. The curve of my waist and strength in my legs makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground for the first time in years.

I take slow, cleansing breaths, letting my heart settle into its new rhythm. I have a lot to do and for the first time, it will be on my terms.

And I’m ready to reflect the truth.

About the Author

Crystal lives in Chicago with her husband, daughter, and English bulldog. The Pentrals is her debut novel and the first in The Pentrals series.

To find out how you can receive your own oculoy or connect with Crystal, please visit: 

Website: www.crystalmack.com

Twitter: @Crystal_Mack

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