Gravity.
I clutched the battered orange scarf that looped around my neck. Rune's mother was a strong woman. I found myself wanting to cling to a denial, that she could not possibly be dead.
“
And Lina escaped the fire...” I said feeling the tragedy weaving into my bones.
“
Yes.” We began walking slowly toward the cabin exit. “I didn't want it to reach her. The war. Everything. But nothing I did made any difference.”
I knew how he felt, but
commiserating wouldn't help either of us. So much death. So much loss.
We stepped out onto the main deck of the ship. Carmine had set the Fish down in the water,
now that we were two hours away from Cape Hill and any searching ships. The engines needed to cool as much as Kyle needed a rest. Sails unfurled, we coasted slowly with the breeze. The sky was clear, the sun was high, and the ocean was at peace. The storm that was sweeping over Cape Hill was far behind, lending us the strength of a fair wind and hurrying us home. I inhaled, exhilarating in the smell of the salty, fresh air. For the first time in days, I was warm.
“
You did make a difference,” I reminded him.
He nodded as though it was a minor consolation.
“Really,” I told him. A shallow laugh nearly escaped me. “Rune, you tore the capital installment apart! You planted the idea of freedom in the other Dragoons. You saved all these kids! Has any Dragoon ever done so much?”
He gave me a sidelong glance, his blue eyes warm.
“None who lived.”
We leaned against the rail of the ship and looked off at the ocean. I could see the brush of land in the distance. The general direction of the Pull told me that we were facing Breakwater, and Haven beyond it.
“Well,” I said, plucking up his left hand into mine. “This Historian has chosen to write the ending of this story with you living a long, healthy life. So-”
He cut me off,
“Please don't call me Rocco.”
“
So, Rocco Thatcher, sailed- flew- hovered across the horizon with his lady love, leaving his life of swindling and tart peddling behind him.” I grinned at the gently rolling water, but when I looked up at him, he'd gone distant again.
He was serious as a person at his own wake. His hand pulled away from mine.
“Katelyn, I could have killed you. I couldn't stop myself.”
“
I think crippling was more of the direction the Prince was taking,” I said, trying my best to keep some humor in my voice. It came out a little dark anyway.
“
Hurting you like that is not something I can ever forget,” he said. “I can't forgive myself for what I've done. You shouldn't either.”
“
Well, that's not your choice,” I told him firmly. “I've already forgotten that it happened,” I lied. How could I ever escape the vivid memory of my savior standing over me, his face twisted in horror, as he swept down to cleave through my leg with his sword?
“
My actions came with a price and I was willing to pay for them. Your friend Sterling paid instead. I owe a debt to him.”
“
So do I,” I said quietly.
It was like he was
struggling to balance on a wire. If he fell off the wrong side, his Dragoon training would reclaim him, and he'd disappear within himself. I wasn't so sure about my own mental and emotional stability at that point, but I couldn't worry about myself. Rune had torn himself out of a cast that had held him for nearly half of his life, and now his family was gone.
“
I have some good news,” I said, attempting to sound as cheerful as possible. It may have come out flimsy, but it was the best I had.
“
Oh?” He was curious.
“
I've discovered that I can make arms with functional fingers out of pure electricity,” I said jauntily. So much for struggling to make a solid ball of lightning. Now, if only I could forget the reason I needed to learn how to do it.
“
I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen you do it. I don't think I've ever heard of anyone doing something so complex. Will you teach me?” he asked humbly.
“
Of course, just as soon as that bullet wears off and you get your Ability back.”
“
As it happens, I have some good news as well.” Holding a gloved hand out, a ball of fire circled over his fingertips.
I gasped.
“You still have it! Does that mean the bullet didn't work?”
He
let the flames vanish and produced a tiny object in his fingers, a dense gel bullet.
I held my hands out and he dropped it into my palms.
“It was caught in my armor. Your pistol didn't have the force at that range to penetrate hard leather.”
Taking care not to drop it, I slipped the bullet into my pocket.
“If only the pistol wasn't sitting in the middle of a ruined Cape Hill street, the bullet might be worth something.” A thought occurred to me. “How's your arm?”
He inched
it farther down the rail, away from me. “It's fine.”
“
You know you can take off that uniform now. I'm sure we have more comfortable clothes aboard than that.”
Rune looked away from me. His discomfort wasn't about what he wore.
“Having the opportunity to talk with people is enough change. Not having orders, not knowing where to go... I don't know how to begin to deal with that. This armor is mine. It's protected me from swords, fists, and rifles, broken my fall, and kept me from freezing to death. It's a part of me. I'd like to wear it a while longer.”
“
Oh,” I said awkwardly. “It looks nice on you.”
When I choose to forget that most people who wear it are
cold-blooded killers.
A pair of white birds with long tails chased one another beside the ship and over the bow.
“I was supposed to die back there. What do I do now?” he asked. There was a shadow of fear in his eyes, of vulnerability.
What could I tell him?
“What the rest of us do. Take it one moment at a time and see where we end up.”
We stood together like that, side by side for the better part of an hour. A sheet of loss hung between us, separating us and driving us closer all at once. We didn't hold one another. We didn't hug or kiss. We just stood there, not even talking, knowing that it was enough. I couldn't breach the chasm of trauma that we'd experienced, I wasn't ready. And neither was he.
C
hapter 50: Secret Upon Secret
“He was far too young,” Professor Block said, looking over the prow of the ship atop the upper deck. He was on his feet again. After some food and rest, he was on the path to recovery. Still, there was something missing from that dull, excitable and kind history professor that I'd known for so many years. Something was wrecked inside of him. I could see it by the frantic flashes in his eyes. “If not for our foolishness... well. Nothing can be done.”
Kyle and
I were on deck with him. The Fish was up and flying again, and the early wisps of sunset dusted the horizon ahead of us. The coastline, hills and familiar mountains beyond seemed to creep toward us.
Haven. The world's one true constant, would still be as it was, even if life was changing me. The grocer on the corner of Walker and Market would argue with the postmaster about politics all the way to the alehouse. A band of street
performers would play their music beside Falwitch Watermill. Dad would pick up roast beef sandwiches from Hand Over Hand on his way home from work. My former classmates would be gathering for oddly contrived games on the riverfront, like attaching two long lunge ropes to two horses on opposite sides of a stream. Strap your feet to a smooth board while your friends help you balance on the water, kick those horses into motion, and see how long they can pull you upright down that stream. Water Horsing. The results were generally hilarious. I'd done it twice. That's what it was like in Rivermarch. Why hadn't it been enough for me?
“
You wanted to see us, Professor?” Kyle asked. He leaned his elbow on the rail of the prow, slouching his lanky form in a sullen way.
“
Mister Kiteman, Miss Kestrel,” he said by way of greeting. “Do you know why I was chosen to come here?”
Kyle
frowned but didn't respond.
“
You were arrested when you were nineteen for trying to find a way out of the Haven Mountains,” I said, recalling the story he'd told me. “You teach history.”
“
Yes, my interest in the Outside World was well known. But passion is a complementary attribute. Passion can drive a person, motivate them, but the moment that passion becomes selfish, the result is catastrophic. I wasn't chosen for the actions of my youth. After my arrest and public humiliation, my father disowned me. I was alone when I found out the truth about Haven.”
Lights flashed in my brain. I stared at him, not realizing that I was holding my breath. Finally, someone was going to make sense of the tangle of questions in my mind.
“I was approached by an official. She brought me to a medical building and made me take a test. They ran a tube into my arm and took some readings. It was all very strange. She returned the following day and told me that at my age, my family was supposed to explain things to me. Because they cast me off, this was now her responsibility. The things she said... I couldn't believe them. Not at first.
“
She told me that most people throughout Haven had special talents, unique skills that they were born with. She said we all had a place in the world, a duty to Haven. Each year, every child is taken in for an inoculation, do you know the one?”
“
Yeah,” I said holding very still, as though movement would scare my answers away. “My dad told me I was allergic to it.”
The professor gave me a very strange look, and then continued his story.
“That inoculation isn't for protecting against the flu. It's an Ability suppressor, a mild one. The injection activates the byproduct Iorscene, which is continuously added to every water source throughout Haven. Once combined, so long as the child drinks Haven water, their Abilities will be smothered.”
“
So that's how you do it,” Kyle said. I was amazed by how calm he was.
“
You're drugging us?” I was outraged. This wasn't possible... everything I thought about Haven was a lie! “I can't believe this!”
“
Don't invent conspiracies, Miss Kestrel,” Block said in a weary voice. “Haven keeps this system in place for a very good reason. Abilities in the young are suppressed until adulthood. After the test determines whether the youth has Abilities, the family explains the nature of our society, the truth about Abilities, and our responsibility to each take our place in the world appropriately. If we did not do this, our lives would depend on the fickle whims and extreme moods of the immature. Imagine entrusting the power of the elements with children who would not understand how to use them. Haven would be a ruin.”
I did remember hearing a story about a certain boy from Breakwater who'd nearly burned a building to the ground.
I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “I see your point. But why the secret? Why not tell everyone what's going on?”
“
A small percentage of children are born without Abilities. I'd imagine it would be very difficult to live with. All people should be treated equally and measured by the value of their character, not what attributes they were born with. We have no room for prejudices in our society. Abilities are a very private matter. Even as an adult, and knowing your talents, it is still unlawful to speak of them in public.”
I thought of my birth mother and considered the reasons for her ruthless desire to prove herself. According to the memories that Sterling helped me reveal, she knew about my dad's Abilities, so she must have known about the others. What might that have been like?
Was it my father who revealed Haven’s greatest secret to her?
“
Without the support of my family, I reacted much the way you did,” Block admitted. “The official told me that I was invaluable to Haven. That without me, without my help, our country would crumble. It was flattering. I'd just discovered I had impossible capabilities, and now, I was needed.
“
The test revealed that one of my Abilities was problem and puzzle solving. It didn't sound flashy, but I was excited. It was what I'd wanted to do all along. I threw myself into my studies at the University in Pinebrook. I accepted the guidance offered by the counselors there, and took special, private classes to hone my Abilities. This is what would be available to you. After graduation, I was offered a position with the Historical Research Society. It was fascinating, but I knew there was a more important career for me.”
“
Teaching?” I asked, unimpressed. It sounded like a downgrade to me.
“
Yes,” he smiled, his bruised lips turning upward. “Teaching. I am a problem solver remember? I knew that teaching was the best way for me to support Haven. The Research Society was not pleased with my decision, but eventually they saw reason.
“
Twelve years ago, the Historical Research Society came to me in Rivermarch. They were prepared to show me things that only the highest officials had ever seen. One was the Still Well, a blue pool, dry to the touch, where texts from the Outside World had been placed for centuries. It was believed that the Still Well was some kind of gate, a portal that could transcend distance, but the other side had always been sealed by an impenetrable slab of rock, smooth as marble. That year, the slab cracked, and the texts did not appear again. When the slab was removed, they found an organ of gears, pulsing, turning. It was the greatest puzzle I'd ever seen. I studied it, within the numb, weightless dry water for years.”
“
You opened it,” Kyle said, reading my mind.
“
I did,” he said, turning his back on the ocean. “And I've regretted it ever since. At the time, it begged the infuriating question... what had changed? Why should we receive gifts of knowledge, though much of it was more rudimentary than our own? We fled the Outside World nearly seven hundred years ago. Who was doing this?”
Brows knitting together, Kyle stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground.
“Maybe the Well should never have been built.”
“
Maybe not,” the Professor said. “But it was, and we opened it six months ago. Naturally, the Research Society decided to explore our findings. For my skills, and my considerable passion,” he said the last word without any pride. “I was granted a place on the team. Cathrine Cline, Edward Elm, Paul Treller, and me. We thought we were so clever, that everything we'd need to know was in those texts. Coloring our eyes, arming ourselves with pistols and limited ammunition... with no knowledge of the world we really stepped into, we were like babes among bears. We left, not even sure whether we'd meet any people at all.
“
We were caught.” Block's face went dark. His eyes grew unfocused. “Too friendly, too trusting. They... they tortured us.” Professor Block's eyes glazed with tears and he whimpered, shrinking in on himself. “When the Margrave came to interrogate me, she began to break my bones. The pain was tremendous. Gravity. I couldn't stop myself. Oh, forgive me... I couldn't hold it in. A shadow figure came up to me. He h-had white eyes. When I looked at him, I saw the Prince. I just wanted the pain to stop. I told him everything he wanted to know. I told him where to find the entrance to the Still Well. I begged him not to go there. I begged and groveled, but it did no good. The damage had been dealt, and it was my fault.”
I watched Block, feeling more sympathy than anger. Would I have done any better, if I were tortured?
He sniffed, clapping a hand to his face to wipe the tears from his salt and pepper beard. “Knowing what they knew didn't stop them from torturing us. They began taking Paul away first. Each time I saw him, his condition worsened. One day he didn't return. They were using him for experiments. He was a strong man. Stronger than me. When we first witnessed how they drain the life energy from their victims, we knew what they would do to our people in Haven. Eddie managed to escape. The Prince left Cape Hill several days ago to find the Still Well. He took Catherine with him... a- as some kind of fuel. I was the last one, left at the cape for safekeeping.”
Gravity.
That’s where he was going when we passed him on the streets.
“
Professor,” Kyle said. “Eddie Elm is dead.”
“
Before we left Haven, we saw him,” I explained. “He blew up the base of the weather tower and nearly killed us.”
“
He did it then,” Block said, thoughtfully.
Kyle watched him shrewdly.
“You don't sound surprised.”
“
I can't be,” Professor Block said, letting his head hang. “I told him to do it.”
“
What?” I snapped. “Why?” I’d been forced to accept violent behavior from the people outside Haven, but coming from one of my own people, I couldn’t believe it.
“
Miss Kestrel, Mister Kiteman, that tower wasn't built for weather predictions. It's an amplifier, similar to a radio tower. Haven Valley is nestled into a very high mountain range. Those weather towers, stationed in each region of Haven, amplify the Abilities of weather controllers... like your father, Miss Kestrel. The range they must reach to control the sky is immense.”
The concept gave weatherman new meaning. I struggled to imagine my dad, sitting at the station, controlling the weather. I found myself gaping in disbelief.
“Our home is supported by a nearly artificial environment. Men and women are rotated twenty-four hours a day, each focusing on temperature, wind, precipitation and storms. If not for weather controllers and those amplification towers, Haven Valley wouldn't be a mild temperate climate. It would be frozen tundra. So perhaps now you'll understand why each and every individual is important to Haven. All of our lives depend on our mutual cooperation, in every aspect of our existence.”
“
Well, if the weather tower was destroyed, what does that mean?” I asked, feeling a building sense of dread.
“
It means that Rivermarch and the greater eastern region has frozen.”
So that was it then. I'd been wrong all along
, about everything. Haven wasn't some quaint, simple country. It was a machine, like my father had said it was. It depended on every piece to function, every piston, every cog. We were those pieces. Haven wasn't a constant. It couldn't always be safe, free from harm. It was difficult to learn that your entire society had lied to you from birth, but even more difficult to see that the choice had been made with care, for the greater good, and that it was falling apart.
The noise of the Flying Fish's turbines filled my head. The chugging of the steam out of the rear billows harmonized with the sounds of the ship. My mother was a manipulative liar, my father was a sweet man who deserved better,
Paperglass Two B was my brutalized history teacher, Rune had involuntarily almost crippled me, and Haven was being torn apart from within. My fingertips twitched. I was in shock.
“
You
wanted
to destroy Rivermarch? What's wrong with you?” Anger flashed through Kyle as he threw himself away from the rail of the ship to face Block directly.
Whose life was I living in? It had to be a dream, a fiction. There was no way this could really be happening. I thought of my dad, my sweet stepmom and my little brother, and how I'd left them again. They wouldn't know what was going on, why they'd been attacked.
“Our families,” was all I could say, and they were soft, feeble words. I was beyond tears or shouting.