The Awakening (28 page)

“What does it say?” Luka asks.

“I don’t know all the details, nor do I know how much has been embellished over the course of time. But I do know the main points.”

There’s a torturous pause. I press my lips together, silently urging him to continue.

“Those with the gifting were created to keep the powers of darkness contained. The prophecy tells of a time when The Gifting will face extinction, and in defense, there will be One who arises with a gifting that manifests itself differently than ever before. This person will have the power to save us from extinction and contain the forces of darkness until the day they can be eradicated altogether.”

Goose bumps break out everywhere on my skin. I swear I even have them on my palms.

“You believe this prophecy is truth?”

“I didn’t used to,” Cap says.

“But that was before you met Tess.”

“She doesn’t realize the potential inside of her, Luka. She doesn’t see it in herself. I’ve never seen anyone with a gifting like hers.”

“If you’re right, if she’s the One, what does that mean?”

“It means a war is coming. And Tess is going to lead us.”

*

I lay beneath a row of tall spinach plants hoping nobody will find me. I don’t want to be in the hub anymore, and while Link is right and dreams enable me to escape for a time, they also come with doorways I don’t want to step through. Doorways that lead to my mother’s screams. Doorways that lead to a man who relentlessly hunts me, like he won’t stop until he has me. I’m sick of doorways and I’m sick of being stuck in a basement.

So I came here, with Anna, who waters a row of tomato plants on the other side of the room, unfazed by my presence. She goes about her business like my behavior is completely normal. Like people come to the greenhouse and lay on the ground all the time. I inhale the scent of green and earth, imagining wind rustling through the leaves overhead, pretending the bright artificial lighting is the sun on my face, trying not to replay Cap and Luka’s early morning conversation.

But it’s no use.

Cap—and, I suspect, now Luka—believe the prophecy is about me. My own grandmother called me the “key”, something I’ve been able to brush off as medicated nonsense. Until now. Still, it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Even more ridiculous than angels in ceramics class and dream hopping and doorways into the spiritual realm and every other ridiculous thing I have seen and heard and experienced since that séance in Jude changed the whole world.

The question I’ve wanted to ask ever since I found out I was “powerful” enough to warrant a Keeper rises to the surface.
Why me?
Why am I able to fight and link? Why can I jump to California and New York when Cap can only jump to Northern Missouri? Why, why, why? They bounce around inside my head like the balls inside that Powerball machine I’ve seen on TV, except there’s no exciting lottery to be won. There’s nothing but too much pressure and a world of crazy expectations crushing me beneath their weight.

“Tess.”

My eyelids flutter.

Cap looms above me in his chair.

So much for hiding.

“You’re missing class,” he says.

“I don’t care about class.” The words escape as dry as winter air, devoid of all emotion. I used all of them up last night while honing my skills with Link. Really, though, what does class matter? Anna’s cloak will fail. Scarface will find us. And I will prove to Cap and Luka and everyone else that the prophecy chose wrong. The “key” is a dud.

“Link tells me the two of you had a little adventure last night.”

I wait for the reprimand, more of what he handed to me last evening—that I’m insubordinate. A loose cannon. Not to be trusted. But Cap says nothing. He just sits there in his chair staring down at me.

“I don’t understand.”

“What is it you don’t understand?” he asks.

“Look at me. I’m below average in height. Slightly above average in intelligence. And utterly average in every single other way. I’m nobody special.” How ironic that I spent the majority of my life wanting nothing more than to be the very thing that taunts me now—average. Normal. A person who flies under the radar. The wish mocks me. I sit up and set my elbows on my knees. “I overheard you talking to Luka this morning. But you’re wrong. I’m not powerful enough to lead anyone. Especially not an army.”

“I agree. You’re not powerful enough.”

I pull my chin back. “But I thought—?”

“Your gifting isn’t something you earned or deserved. It was given to you. It’s a gift, the size and value of which says more about the giver than the recipient. By definition, it doesn’t come from you at all.”

“Where does it come from, then?”

“The one who created you. The one we’re fighting for.”

“You mean
God
?”

Cap bows his head in concession, but I shake mine. Why would this
God
give someone like me such a gift? It doesn’t seem like a very smart move. It doesn’t clear up my confusion at all. “All of that you just said? It still leaves me with the same question.
Why me
?”

“Why
not
you?”

Is Cap really asking that? Because if he wants them, I can give him a million reasons.

“Sometimes, the most ordinary people are given the most extraordinary things. Who knows
why
you were chosen. You’re dwelling on the wrong question.”

“What’s the right question, then?”

“The gift is yours. You can bury it if you want. You can deny it or ignore it. Or you can embrace it.
That’s
the question, Tess. What are you going to do with the gift you’ve been given? It’s something only you can decide.”

Rogue

W
hat am I going to do with the gift I’ve been given?

The answer came almost immediately after Cap finished asking the question. It comes so easily, so obviously, like something I’ve known all along. I’m going to do what I should have done months ago, when Luka and I broke into Shady Wood. I’m going to break my grandmother out of that prison. I try to drum up a sense of urgency in Cap, but he thinks we have time. He says the reason they rescued Anna successfully was because they didn’t rush. They planned; they researched. But what more do we need to research? Clive is a Cloak. My grandmother is a Fighter. Cap may think I need a couple more weeks of training, but I don’t. Two more weeks won’t change anything for me. It could mean life or death for them. I’ve waited long enough. I’ve let my grandmother languish in that place long enough. The time is now.

The question is, how do I start?

Link has taught me everything except how to awaken someone. I could perhaps go to him and tell him what I’m thinking. He’s my best bet for an ally. But something tells me that even he—rules-don’t-apply-to-him Link—will be wary of starting without Cap’s permission. Various plans spin about in my mind. All of them start at the same place. First, before we can awaken my grandmother or Clive, I need to make sure I can find her. And dream
searching
is something I already know how to do.

That night in bed, I focus on everything I know about my grandmother. I close my eyes and create a mental picture in my mind—her white hair, my father’s eyes, the same prominent nose, her gaunt face. I picture her handwriting in the dream journal. I think about her gnarled fingers curling around mine when Luka and I broke into Shady Wood. Her raspy voice, as if it had long gone out of use. The frenzied look in her eyes when she said I was the “key”. I play the entire scene on repeat until my mind drifts into slumber.

When my eyes open again, I’m in a mass of hazy white. I’m standing in a cloud. There’s nothing but fog and mist, above me and even below my feet. I turn in a circle, trying to gain my bearings. This has never happened before. What if I dream hopped somewhere I shouldn’t have? What if I can’t escape? I shake my head. It’s as though the fog is seeping into my own mind.

“Grandma?” I call.

Nothing.

I walk forward a few steps, squinting through the white. I call for her louder this time and keep walking, trying to ignore my swelling sense of panic. I cup my hands around my mouth to form a megaphone. “Elaine Eckhart! Are you in here?”

There’s movement up ahead—a small, slight stirring.

I run toward it. The fog gets thicker, so much so that I bat at it with my hands. It’s so hard to see now that I stumble over her—my grandmother, sitting in that way Rosie sits when she’s feeling scared, with her knees drawn up to her chest, rocking back and forth. I crouch beside her. “Elaine?”

Her rocking stops. She looks up from her knees and her paper-thin eyelids quiver with the tiniest flicker of recognition. Or maybe it’s not recognition at all. Maybe she’s just incredibly startled to see someone here, in this cloud of a place.

“Do you know who I am?” I ask, maintaining eye contact.

She shakes her head.

“My name is Tess Eckhart.”

“Teresa?”

A seed of hope sprouts inside my soul. She remembers me. She knows me. “Yes, my name is Teresa Eckhart.”

She reaches out her trembling hand and touches my cheek, as if to make sure I am real. “How do I know you?”

“I’m your granddaughter. I came to visit you once, not too long ago.”

“You came with a boy?”

I nod, faster. She’s more lucid than it would seem.

She presses her hands against the vaporous floor and looks about, as if realizing for the first time that she is somewhere very odd. “Where am I?”

“We’re in your dream.”

“A dream?”

I nod, unsure how much I should tell her. She looks so fragile. Like one too many words will turn her back into the curled-up pill bug I ran into a few seconds ago. And what if the things I tell her now make her say suspicious things when she’s awake? Now that I know I can find her, I need Link. I don’t know how to do this. “You’re in Shady Wood.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the place where you live.” If living is what it can be called. I press my lips together. Do I tell her that she’s on medicine? Do I tell her that’s why her dream is like this? Do I tell her that we are going to break her out and that she cannot, under any circumstances, arouse suspicion in the doctors or nurses? It all sounds so complicated. Much too complicated for the state she’s in right now. And who’s to say she’ll remember any of it when she wakes? I can’t afford to mess this up. “Would it be okay if I came back again to visit?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here.” If I got here tonight, then I can get here again tomorrow. “I’m going to bring a friend. Is that okay?”

My grandmother nods. “I—I think I’d like that.”

*

The second I wake up in bed, I kick off my covers. The clock reads 4:27 a.m. I need to find Link. I suppose I could go back to sleep and hop into his dream. He always leaves them wide open to me. But there is no way, short of being hooked to those probes, that I will fall back asleep again. Not with all this adrenaline coursing through my body.

I peek out into the hallway to make sure the coast is clear. Unlike yesterday morning, there’s no light or murmuring voices coming from the cafeteria. I creep through the empty antechamber, down the boy’s hallway, and gently knock on Link’s bedroom door. When he doesn’t answer, I knock again—just as quietly, but quicker—and press my ear against the wood.

Nothing.

With a here-goes-nothing breath, I grab the handle on his door, let myself inside, and march through the dark room, bumping my shin against something on my way to his bed. “Link,” I hiss, clutching my smarting leg.

He mumbles something incoherent and turns over.

I grab his shoulder and give it a good shake. “Link!”

“Xena?” His voice is croaked. Unlike me, he doesn’t get extra sleep during the day. While I can easily get by with four hours since I spend three of them sleeping almost every afternoon while training with Cap, Link needs a good six. He sits up, the covers falling to his waist in a crumple. It’s not so dark that I can’t tell he’s not wearing a shirt. “What’s going on?”

“We need to talk.”

He pulls the covers off his legs and finds the light switch.

I’ve never been inside Link’s room before. When my eyes adjust, it’s like I’m sitting inside an inventor’s den. There are gadgets everywhere. Smaller ones that look like remote controls and tracking devices, slightly larger ones that look like computers and cable boxes, even security alarms. Most are half-finished. Some are completely disassembled. “What are you doing with all this stuff?”