Protecting Truth (19 page)

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Authors: Michelle Warren

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Protecting Truth
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::31::
Unravel

 

I hear his voice before I see him. But it’s not Bishop’s voice that makes me stiffen; it’s Perpetua’s.

“Do you think it’ll work?” she asks him.

“Yes, I believe it might be the key for all of us,” Bishop responds.

I look around the corner and see the two standing at the door, facing each other, gazing into Perpetua’s palm. They’re inspecting something.

My heart stops, seeing them so close, so obviously friendly. The emptiness inside me sucks into a pit, a black hole, which nearly causes me to choke with suffocation.

They don’t look up until I’ve descended on them. I’m so angry; I swipe what’s in Perpetua’s hand, stealing the object. Pushing between them, I run out the front door, descend the stairs, and around the corner. Bishop’s house disappears, and I speed down the cobblestone street, zigzagging across many side roads.

Bishop and Perpetua chase, falling into step behind me. In many places, they appear out of nowhere as though they’re impossibly popping in and out of time. They call my name, begging me to stop, but I ignore them. When I find a busy street of people, I launch in, disappearing in the madness.

Hours later, after I’ve lost them, I duck into an alley and lean against a brick wall. I’m crying, I’m sweating from running, and I’m an emotional mess. Tears fall until there’s nothing left in my system. Emptiness. I have no choice who I love, who I am, who my extended family is, and now with everything that Bishop’s done, I find him with Perpetua. I just can’t take any more. I hate the Society and everything that my life has become.

I open my hand, revealing what I’ve stolen. Pricks of blood dot my skin from holding the crystal’s jagged edges too tightly. This is the crystal that Perpetua accused me of taking. I don’t know what it is, why it’s so important, or even why I took it in the first place. Jealousy, probably. I wanted to hurt her for hurting me. The rock means something to Bishop too, and by taking it, I’ve somehow hurt him.

I turn it over. It vaguely reminds me of some crystal rocks I saw in Professor Raunnebaum’s laboratory, but I never asked what they were. I tuck it into my pocket and decide to keep moving. If I stay, Bishop and Perpetua will certainly find me.

I wander the streets of downtown London for another hour, just thinking. Thinking of everything that’s wrong with my life: the way the Society manipulates us, how they take everything and pretend to give us the world. But they don’t give you the things that matter—truth and love. They create a life for you and manipulate it, nurture the lies, and shove them down your throat. For weeks I’d been beating myself up, trying to protect Bishop from the knowledge of Turner flirting with me, from my advanced fighting abilities, and from meeting Cece again. All the while, he’s had his own secrets—many of them.

“Bishop!” I hear someone call. At first I duck behind a crowd of people, certain that he and Perpetua have found me, but then I hear the voice again.

“Bishop!” I turn my head. It’s me—the
old me
. I’ve collided with my past self, the one who came here weeks ago during summer vacation to find Bishop with the love letter relic. The old me stands, hoisted on a clock tower, the one that looks like a miniature version of Big Ben.

When she spots me, I see the recognition in her eyes, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Everything is playing out exactly the way it did before.

Confused, I run across a street. Cabbies scream past, barely missing me by inches. Something in my gut tells me to get away. I head in the direction everyone’s moving. Victoria Station sits just ahead. I weave through the people, squeezing into the front doors. I linger, surveying all the directions I can run and hide.

The old me appears in the door. I run. She follows, mirroring my actions, several seconds behind.

I head toward the trains, going underground. When I jump on the tube, she rushes in on the opposite side of the car. Maybe I should confront myself? Explain all that’s happened.
No. I can’t.
Not yet.
I think of what’s coming for her today, her last perfect date with Bishop. I’m too selfish to alter the memory, even with how upset I am with him.

The train bobbles through a few stops, and I jump out at the Embankment station. My old me follows. That’s when I take out my new cell phone and make a quick call to Bishop’s cell.

“Cleopatra’s Needle,” I say into the phone when he answers.

“Sera! What number is this? Wait there. I’m coming!”

I hang up before he says any more.

I lead the old me to the waterfront. I step onto the Cleopatra’s Needle monument, then turn and lean against the base. I inspect the crystal while I’m waiting for my old self to appear. I consider tossing it into the Thames River, letting it sink and wash away with the murky green water. I extend my arm, preparing to hurl it through the air, but I stop myself right before it leaves my hand. I’m too curious to let it go. It means something, and I have to find out what. I sit down and turn it over in my hands. The tears start again. I can’t help myself.

“Sera!” Bishop yells. I look up. My old self has appeared. She turns and looks behind her. Bishop stands, staring at her. His eyes drift to me. I see he quickly understands what’s happened. One girl is his present Sera and the other is his future Sera.

The old me runs and pulls him into an embrace. They melt into each other. She’s so happy. I want to be that naive girl again. Somehow, I envy her.

Stepping around the obelisk, I peek around the corner as they embrace. His eyes rise to mine, lingering on my sad, tear-soaked face. His expression says it all. He’s sorry.

I nod, but not as an acceptance of an apology, just as recognition that he knows he’s in the wrong. The two lovers embracing will move on from their moment as though nothing’s happened. They’ll have a few wonderful nights together and then in a few weeks their world will turn into contrived crap.

There’s enough room to run along the Thames and wander back home to Sam. It seems she’s the only one I can trust now.

::32::
Dreamdrive

 

“How long have you known?” I ask Sam as I walk into her bedroom and shut the door. I’m back on true time at the Academy.

“I’ve been piecing it together since the dinner with your family,” she says, looking up from her cello. The music stops, and she gracefully rises and places the instrument on a stand in the corner. She turns and gives me a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers in my ear.

“How did you know?”

“I saw Mona in Bishop’s mind when we were at dinner with your dad. He couldn’t help but reminisce about family memories. He really misses her. And I know he’s had a heavy heart for not being able to share it with you. He’s been forbidden, given the circumstances. Not long after I pieced it together, I confronted him.” She steps away and sits on the edge of the bed, her long legs sweeping out in front of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“He made me promise. And it’s not like he doesn’t love you Sera, he does. So does Mona. Of course, I can see the truth in his mind. You must never let on to the Society that you know—not ever. Who knows what they’re capable of doing to them?” She stands and paces, clearly upset by the thought.

“Then he told you about Mona’s deal to keep him and Turner safe?”

She nods and looks away.

“It’s not right, Sam—what they’re doing. The Society’s manipulated my whole life, Mona’s life, all our lives! How are we supposed to know what’s real now? Will anything ever be?” We sit on the bed. I’m weary and drained of energy.

“How was London?” she asks, changing the subject.

“About as wonderful as you would expect.” Then I have a thought. I pull out the crystal and hold it in my palm. “So, what’s the deal with this? Any ideas?”

Sam stiffens. “Is this Perpetua’s?”

“Bingo.”

“You took this from her in London?” She scrunches her face.

“What?”
Oh crap, there’s more.

“Remember how you made me promise not to tell anyone about your mom being alive?” She grits her teeth.

I nod, not exactly sure where this is going.

“I kept my promise, kind of.”

“Sam!”

“I tried, I really did. In fact, I never said anything. Bishop saw it in my mind! I’m so sorry, Sera. It was a few weeks after the incident. Please don’t hate me, I couldn’t help but think about it. And Bishop just showed up in my mind one day when I did.”

“And?”

“Well, he’s kind of been looking for her all these months.”

“What?”

“Bishop’s been doing it for you. He would do anything for you, Sera.” She grabs my hand.

There’s a spark of happiness that I can’t exactly explain. Bishop’s been helping me look for my mom in his own way, all this time. But then I realize my happiness is fake. My love for Bishop is not real; it’s a fabricated lie.

Sam starts again. “Bishop sought out Perpetua’s help. Through Terease he arranged an exchange for Perpetua and her team’s return to the Academy for information on Cece and the Underground’s whereabouts—”

“Which would lead to my mom!”

“Exactly,” Sam nods. “I think this crystal was part of the trade. Perpetua took it from Cece, hoping it would act as a bargaining chip to come back to school. She needed to convince Terease she was worthy. Ever since you took the crystal, Perpetua’s been looking for it. She wouldn’t be able to stay at the Academy without the trade. Terease gave her a deadline to find it. That’s why she’s been on your case.”

“How long have you known about that?” I glance at her.

“Not long. They wanted to try to keep you out of it, to stop you before you took the crystal, but they didn’t know when you were going to steal it. I guess we know now.”

“Why didn’t they just send someone to get it?”

“They tried. Apparently a million times, but the timing was never right. Except once. Perpetua fought you for it. The night you hurt your back.”

I gasp. “That was
her
?” I think back to that rainy night in London when Bishop and I were attacked. “That witch, I should have known she would rip my skin off for it. She attacked the wrong me! I didn’t have the crystal yet. Stupid girl!”

I shake off my anger and refocus on the matter at hand.

“What is it?” I wonder out loud, as I hold the crystal to the light.

“I think it’s a hard drive for a contrapulator. Turns out that the Society not only makes us listen to classes at night, but they steal our dreams, too. They’re stored on something just like this.” She points to the crystal.

I jump up and head for Sam’s contrapulator. Just like mine, the machine sits on her bedside table. The mishmash of metal components resembles a clock that’s been flipped inside out. When turned on, a black screen shows green brain waves that jump and ripple.

I tip the machine forward and sure enough, there’s a crystal inserted into the back, just like a removable hard drive. I tug on it. It clicks, slowly releasing. I shouldn’t be surprised that this machine does more than it appears to. Holding both crystals, I compare the two.

Sam joins me. “Perpetua’s crystal is larger. A little different, but this certainly must be the same thing. Maybe I should meditate on it?” she asks.

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” I hand her both.

Sam settles on the floor with her legs tucked to one side underneath her. Her eyes shut, and she cradles Perpetua’s crystal in her cupped palms. Sam’s as stunning as a sleeping swan, long necked, and beautiful. Seconds later, the crystal glows from within. Slowly, it lifts, hovering until it’s parallel with Sam’s eyes. The rock rotates haphazardly, spinning on no particular axis. Rainbows shoot from the core, projecting onto the walls, glittering like a disco ball. For a while, Sam’s face never reveals anything other than serenity, and then she winces. Her face sours in pain, and she violently catapults away from the relic. It drops with a thump at the same time Sam’s body smashes into the far wall.

I run to her, grabbing her face in my palms. “Sam! Wake up!” She’s out cold.
What’s happened?
“Sam!” I yell louder, shaking her, hoping that I can break through.

The bedroom door slams open. “What’s wrong?” Turner rushes into the room, out of breath, his face red and sweaty from running. He must have been nearby, sensed my fear, and came looking for us. Gently, he gathers Sam’s lifeless body into his arms and places her carefully on her bed. He inspects her with the expertise of a physician. “She’ll be okay, I think. She’s breathing. I’ll have to run and get the nurse. What happened?” He starts to walk away.

“She was just meditating on a relic. Out of nowhere, it blew her across the room. She hit the wall pretty hard. I don’t even know what happened!” I say, panicked.

“What relic?”

I run and grab it from the floor, bringing it back for Turner’s inspection.

“Where did you get this?”

“It’s—it’s a long story.”

His brow arches, but he doesn’t push it. “It’s a dreamdrive, but not one of the Academy’s. It’s too large. Where did you get it?”

“Perpetua,” I admit, dropping my gaze to the floor.

“So this is it. What they’ve been looking for, isn’t it?”

Sam moans and grabs her head. We rush to the bed.

“I saw them, all of them,” she says.

“Saw who?” Turner asks.

“The Underground.”

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