Read The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy Online

Authors: A. E. Waller

Tags: #magic, #girl adventure, #Fantasy, #dytopian fiction, #action adventure, #friendship

The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy (10 page)


Sit down, Keres. You are steamrolling through a very complex arrangement and we have skipped a few key educational points. I should have anticipated you would not follow the prescribed training regimen.


I

d rather stand,

I say, keeping my feet planted. I have no desire to turn this into a cozy fireside chat, sharing confidences. Abbot shrugs and stretches himself out in one of the overstuffed chairs.


That tattoo has a great deal of power because you have a great deal of power. Probably more than anyone on this hall,

he begins.

We, everyone who was left with the black diamond, are marked from birth for this Service. Not by The Mothers or the Pedagogics, but by a series of circumstances that are not in anyone

s control,

he pauses, considering me. He props his left foot up on his right knee,

Within each of us, there is a certain level of power called intusmagus. In simple terms, it

s the ability to control and contort our nervous systems into performing atypical functions.


Those are not simple terms,

I say.

Abbot curls in his fingers into a fist, leaving his thumb straight out.

I have a specific thought,

he says. He puts his thumb over the swirl pattern tattoo on his neck,

and I tell a group of nerves to act on that thought,

he traces the outline with his thumb and the ink begins to glow,

and I perform that thought,

he flings out his hand, fingers spread wide, shooting light across the room, shattering the timepiece on the desk behind him.

I sit down. Abbot closes his hand again, drags his thumb over a tattoo on his exposed left ankle and sends a rush of air over his shoulder. The bits of timepiece whirl up and rejoin, the cracks glowing.

Repair isn

t my best. Barely earned that one,

he says apologetically,

Doesn

t really matter, my role isn

t about fixing the things I break.

My mouth is dry.

How-

I try to say but the words get stuck in my throat.


That

s what your training is for- you will learn how. It starts with understanding the human body as it is normally, for everyone else. Specifically how their nerves receive a signal, send it to the brain to interpret and the brain sends back instructions on how to react.


Then you

ll learn how our nervous systems work. You

ll learn how to manipulate your thoughts and how to apply those to activate the ink. When the ink is active, it sends a message to a specific nerve group. That group sends a signal reaction to your brain. Your brain then sends the original intentional thought in the form of instructions back to the nerve group. The nerve group manifests that thought. You catch the manifestation in your hand and throw it to its destination. It all happens instantaneously. You

ll start very simply, of course. Can

t have you blowing up the entire hall in the first week.


Not how you did it, how are you controlling me through this tattoo,

I say.


Oh, yes. That was your first question, wasn

t it. I get so used to avoiding those. I

m not controlling you or your tattoo. You are.


I would never choke the air out of my own lungs,

I say
angrily.


Not intentionally. For now, your brain knows more than you do. It knows the importance of concealment.


How does my mind know something I don

t?


Because of the ink,

Abbot says.

The ink used in our tattoos translates directions the nerves received into a physical manifestation. Without the ink, we have nothing more than what some term

a quick mind.
’”


The ink tells my nerves to go see what my brain wants, my brain sends a command to the ink to make my lungs stop breathing?

Is this real life? It goes beyond my realm of belief.


Yes, well, the ink in your guard tattoo sends a message to your brain that secrecy is imperative. Your brain then tells the nerve groups to use the ink to control breathing in your case. In my case it

s a blinding pain behind my eyes. The brain and the ink will do whatever they have to in order to keep you from talking, or showing, anything that applies to intusmagus and the hall. And that includes killing you.


Why didn

t you tell me I could die? Why didn

t you warn me? You baited me into testing it.


There was no real danger, you didn

t know anything to tell that would require permanent silence. Now, of course, the situation has taken a turn.


Do all the tattoos act that way? I mean the ones on your neck and arms and everything, do they all conspire to kill you?


Only the one on the sternum acts as the guard. The tattoos in other places speak to specific nerve groups, which control a certain type of action. Didn

t you read the back of the book this morning?

The chart of different nerve groups bracketed together with odd names makes sense now. I picture the brackets around Abbot

s body, they seem to group the varying patterns of ink that cover him.


I saw the chart, but didn

t read much.


Well, knowledge is the key to understanding,

he says with relish.

Get back to the book. You should be able to finish the section on the brain today. Tomorrow morning, we will continue strength training. And if you are a very good girl, I

ll teach you a trick.

I want to ask what all this means for Chelon, what do we actually
do
for Service. So far, the Unspoken get strong and break things with their minds, or is it the nerves that do the actual breaking? Abbot is moving towards the door now.


Why? Why are we able to do this and others aren

t?

I ask as he puts his hand on the knob.


That is something-


-for which
I am not
yet ready to know,

I finish for him. Question and answer time is clearly over.


You do learn fast,

he says.

Refreshments are in the lefthand wardrobe. Reading is hard work.

Leaving me to the book, Abbot shuts the door behind him without a sound. I wonder vaguely how he does that when the empty, shiny hall would echo even a pin drop.

There

s nothing left for me to do but read. The only way my questions will be answered is to follow instructions. Great. The thing I have the most trouble with is the thing I

ll have to master first. However, being able to blow things to bits will be dead useful when PG3456 leaves Chelon. I have found my motivation, and I

ll follow instructions to the letter now.

I skim over the first section of anatomy review. Once I

m satisfied there is no new information hidden in the paragraphs, I start to devour the mind power section. I read it through completely and then start reading it again. It

s a wholly new concept to me. It brings new meaning to a phrase The Mothers use frequently when we are young.

Mind over matter!

they sing out when we struggled with something.

I

m so absorbed in the section that I miss the flickering of light on the desk, signaling the end of the day. Then someone is
knocking on my door.

Come in,

I say grudgingly. I just want to read.


Just me,

says Zink, opening the door.

Thought you might want to make the elevator ride back up a tradition.

He trips on my black suit that is still on the floor. He picks it up and shakes it out,

The Mothers aren

t going to clean up down here.


Why not?

I

m disappointed by that. I haven

t cleaned up after myself, well, ever.


They don

t come on the hall. I don

t think they are allowed.


Aren

t allowed? Aren

t they the ones who determine who is allowed to do anything? And if they aren

t then the Absolutes are.


Well, yes, for everyone else. But we are different, especially when we are down here,

he says as he hangs up my uniform.

I watch him closely, not speaking. Asking questions seems to be the quickest way to not get answers down here so I just begin to clean up the desk.

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