Rogue Powers

ROGUE

POWERS

A

Science Fiction/Fantasy

Novel

Phil Stern

Rogue Powers

Copyright © 2012 by Phil Stern

All Rights Reserved.

2
^nd
Edition (January 2013)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are entirely the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

www.philstern.com

CHAPTER ONE

A
NSON’S MOTHER FIRST BECAME AWARE of the boy’s power when he was only seven years old. Humming to herself while ladling out soup from a large pot, she idly turned about to find a miniature horse hanging mid-air before Anson’s face, seemingly defying gravity of its own accord.

“Anson!” she cried out, dropping the bowl to the stone floor with a tremendous crash. Falling to her knees beside him, there was only the merest resistance as she grabbed the small toy from her son’s mental grasp. “What are you doing?”

“Mommy, don’t be mad. I was only playing with Horsey...”

“But how? How did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Puzzled, the blond boy stared into his mother’s stunned face. “I just wanted Horsey, so I thought about how fun he is, and then he just came up to me like that...”

Gasping in fright, she hugged the precocious youth to her chest. Oh, how she’d prayed this day would never come, that her wonderful son would be spared! A single tear rolled down one cheek, followed by another.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Anson’s muffled voice came from within her crushing embrace. “I just wanted...”

“Anson! Listen to me!” Urgently she pulled back, holding his face within her hands, forcing him to attend her every word. “You must never, ever, do anything like that again!”

“But Mommy, why?” Frowning, he angrily tried to pull away. “I didn’t hurt Horsey! I didn’t hurt anybody!”

“No, Anson, you didn’t.” Holding him still, she took a deep breath. “But if anybody ever saw you doing that, they’d tell the Royal Guard. And then they’d tell the Lords!”

“So what?” he defiantly began, frowning as his mother began crying anew.

“Please, just listen to me! I need you to understand this!” Glancing up, she briefly stared out a tiny, rough window in their small home. Outside everything seemed normal, yet their world had just emphatically changed forever. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her boy again. “No one must ever know what you can do.”

“Mommy?” Sensing his mother’s terror, he now began crying himself. “You’re scaring me!”

Good, she thought, briefly mortified by the necessity of imposing a lifetime of fear and secrecy on her child. Resolutely, she pushed those sentiments away. “Honey, they will kill you if they find out! Do you understand that?”

Anson was puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“They will...they will take you away from me, and hurt you, and make you wish very, very much that they didn’t know what you can do!” Sobbing, she held a hand to his cheek. “Anson, promise me! You’ll never show anybody!”

“I promise.” With the utter innocence of someone yet unaware of the world’s inherent cruelty, Anson tried to comprehend it all. “I won’t tell anybody.”

Sending a message he was sick, Anson was kept home from school for the next two days, his mother reinforcing her grim message as best she could.

Still, for the next few months Anson chaffed against the suffocating restriction. Within a week he’d become proficient in moving objects around his room, soon lifting the entire bed with ease. Why couldn’t anybody know? There was much he could do! And the other children would think it was so cool! The idea of demonstrating his new ability began taking on an irresistible appeal, Anson gleefully imagining his friends’ stunned reaction.

However, in an odd stroke of fate, one of Anson’s classmates soon gave brutal credence to the hard reality behind his mother’s warning.

As with most of the small villages in the Kingdom, Hylen boasted a cramped, one-room schoolhouse. Jeni was a few years older than Anson, having recently moved with her family from Gad, a village in the next province. For some reason Anson felt something odd when his gaze directly met Jeni’s. In fact, he soon became very nervous in her presence, though unsure exactly why.

Then one day, sitting near the back of class, Anson saw young Van Smith reach forward and drop a grasshopper down the back of Jeni’s shirt.

At first nothing happened. Then Jeni rose, shrieking, twirling around and slapping at the small of her back. All the other children roared with laughter. It took several moments for Ms. Klane to calm Jeni down and remove the insect from her clothing.

“Van, was it you?” the teacher demanded, focusing her attention on the most likely culprit.

“No, Ms. Klane!” Still giggling, Van shook his head. “I didn’t do it.”

“He did too!” another girl erupted. “I saw Van do it!”

“Van, that was mean!” Still crying, Jeni’s finger shot out. “I’ll get you for this!”

“Now Jeni, calm down. You’re not hurt.” Ms. Klane sighed. “Van, go home. I’ll visit your parents later.”

“What!” Stamping her feet, Jeni whirled on the teacher. “But this is the third time he’s done this!”

“Jeni, enough!” the teacher commanded. “Van, go home. Now!”

Slowly rising, Van made a point of formally bowing to Jeni and Ms. Klane, then made his way toward the door at the back of the class. Still laughing, Van slapped the approving hand of another boy on his way out.

Apparently, that was too much for Jeni. Anson noticed her left pinkie flick out just as Van grabbed the door handle.

Jeni’s tormenter immediately grabbed at his own face. “I can’t see!” he screamed, dropping to his knees. Flailing about in fright, Van hit his head on a desk. “Help! I’m blind!” All the children began yelling and crying, it taking Ms. Klane several minutes to restore order.

The village doctor duly came and took Van away. Following another hour of delusory, distracted instruction, Ms. Klane let everyone out early. Anson couldn’t help noticing Jeni nervously stride down the tree-lined street without looking at anyone, or Ms. Klane’s hard gaze following the girl until she was out of sight.

That evening Anson walked with his mother and grandmother down the main roadway toward the next village. It was a pleasant night, a soft wind weaving in and among the wheat and other crops. Mrs. Neagle suddenly rode into view from the other direction, pulling up before them.

“Did you hear the news?” Mrs. Neagle breathlessly demanded. “About Jeni Lenk?”

Anson had said nothing of the incident to his mother, though the small ball of fear occupying his stomach since that afternoon now began raging.

“No,” Grandma said. “What is it?”

“The girl’s got the Dark Master in her!” Mrs. Neagle announced. “She can make people blind!”

“How do you know?” Anson’s mother quietly asked.

“She struck down Helda Smith’s boy today!” Mrs. Neagle continued. “Blind as a bat, he is! Turns out two other children went mysteriously blind back in Jeni’s home village. No permanent harm, they recovered their sight again in a few days. But still! That’s the Dark Master’s work. No doubt of it!”

“The King protect us,” Anson’s grandmother reverently muttered.

“No wonder the Lenks moved to Hylen!” Mrs. Neagle’s horse snorted, prancing back a step. “But we’re royal-fearing folk here! That Devil-child can’t hide among us!”

Anson’s mother firmly pulled him to her side. “And what of Jeni now?”

“The Royal Guard has taken her. And her parents! Serves them right, the heathens!” And with that Mrs. Neagle cantered on, anxious to spread the news over the entire Kingdom.

No one ever saw Jeni or her parents again. But two uniformed Royal Guardsmen closely supervised Anson’s class for the next few days, the children themselves interrogated at length about Jeni and her heresy.

Silently, Anson shook his head when repeatedly asked if knew of any other children with power. Apparently satisfied, the Guardsmen finally left the schoolchildren alone, though it took Ms. Klane several days to stop visibly shaking as she taught class.

***

The next weekend Anson, along with his mother and grandmother, uncomfortably huddled in a pew near the back of church. Predictably, all of Hylen’s townsfolk were treated to a particularly robust sermon on the need for vigilance throughout the community.

“GOD!” thundered the ancient priest, “has touched our KING, and his royal family, with His hand! THEY, and ONLY they, have AMAZING POWERS to protect and shelter, keeping us from grievous harm!”

Trying not to shiver, Anson kept his eyes planted on the priest.

“That’s how our Kingdom has existed for hundreds of years!” Now he threw out his hands, staring toward the ceiling. “But God...oh merciful God! Oh, Heavenly Father!” The priest paused, a tear rolling down one cheek.

The congregation waited, no one daring to utter a sound.

“GOD!” the priest finally bellowed, eyes lowering back down to his flock, “has NOT touched ANY OF YOU!” With disgust, the clergyman drew back. “If ANY of you are concealing wickedness!  If you know ANYONE in our village harboring EVIL spirits, and you do not reveal them! Then you...YOU, are succoring the Dark Master’s spawn!”

Overcome by emotion, he gasped for breath. “You must tell us! You must! Wickedness must be rooted out, in all forms! Be it the man from the next village, or the neighbor’s daughter...or even your own children!”

Reflexively, Anson’s mother squeezed his hand, almost to the point of pain. Resolutely, he withstood the discomfort, his parent’s grip slowly receding to a tolerable pressure.

Underscoring the priest’s diatribe was a Royal delegation standing off to one side, contemplating the congregation in grim silence. Prince Nant was attended by a half-dozen Royal Guardsman, resplendent in their red coats, plume hats, and gleaming swords. Beside the Prince stood his own son, Prince Tenen, a boy just a few years older than Anson himself.

Once the clergyman was done, Prince Nant took the pulpit.

“If any of you were hiding knowledge of this girl’s perversion, you will be discovered.” Though lacking the priest’s bombast, the prince’s quiet words seemed even more menacing. “And since you have no way of resisting your lawful King, it’s best to admit your guilt now. Behold!”

Suddenly two Guardsmen lunged into the crowd, grabbing a woman at random. No one made any move to interfere. Quivering in fright, Anson’s middle-aged neighbor was held before the pulpit, staring up at the prince.

“Did you know of this she-devil in your village?” Nant demanded.

“No...no, my Lord!” the woman gasped. “I knew nothing! I barely knew her family!”

“I speak in the name of my brother, the King!” Nant intoned, slowly descending from the pulpit to stand beside her. “So I ask you again. Did you know anything?”

“No, my Lord. I swear!”

Roughly grabbing her by the chin, Nant stared intently into the woman’s face. Eyes going wide, the villager stopped struggling, transfixed by the prince’s gaze. It was as if he was boring into her very soul, pulling every secret she’d ever kept out into the open. After several seconds of this he released her, the woman collapsing to the floor with a great sob.

“She tells the truth,” Nant announced. “I know this, because I can see truth or falsehood in anyone! God has granted me the power to root out all evil from our land. There is no place to hide, nowhere to go.”

Staring stolidly ahead, Anson’s mother once more involuntarily crushed her son’s hand. There was dead silence throughout the church, the entire congregation collectively holding its breath.

The prince nodded. “So if there is anyone here...”

At that point he made a break for it. Todd Lenk, Jeni’s older brother, his face already black and bruised from an earlier conversation with the Royal Guard, leapt over a pew and raced for a door on the other side of the church from where the Guardsmen stood.

“Stop him!” Nant roared, though it was obvious Todd would escape before anyone could intervene.

Just as the Lenk boy reached the exit, however, a streak of fire flashed across the church. Instantly, the entire door and frame around Todd’s would-be escape route exploded back into the building. Flung into the nearest congregants, Todd’s clothes and hair burned fiercely. Within seconds a sheet of flame raced up the wall to the church rafters.

Guided by some unknown instinct, Anson looked back across the church at young Prince Tenen. Standing between two hulking Royal Guardsmen, Tenen’s fist was raised, a look of maniacal glee plastered across his face. Clearly, he was the one who’d impeded Todd’s flight, inadvertently torching the church in the process.