The Revealed (25 page)

Someone clears his voice. Immediately, I sit up. If I weren’t so tired, I would have seen him standing in the room the whole time. His crystal-blue eyes shift to my wide-eyed expression.

“You!” I say, scrambling up.

Skylar chuckles, and his cheeks turn red. “Me again. I promise I’m not stalking you for your autograph.”

“Yeah,” Rory scoffs, “because I made him promise he wouldn’t.”

Skylar turns a deeper crimson, and it’s so funny to me that someone with such a strong constitution can blush so deeply.

His eyes seem to soften around the edges. “I just wanted to drop this off for you.” He holds out a book, his eyes still connected with mine. I stare back, startled. “I was going to give it to Rory to give to you, but since you’re here now, well, here it is.”

He’s staring at me the way I
think
he’s staring at me, right? I glance at Rory, who wrinkles her nose the way people do when gushing over a cute puppy. I look back at Skylar. He’s definitely giving me those eyes, those
I really just couldn’t get you off my mind
eyes. He adds, “I thought it might help you with the elements. I’ve already finished it.”

I clear my throat, suddenly anxious, and take the book he offers. “Thank you.” I glance at the cover. It’s called
The Energy of Us.
Anthony Roben—the man who founded The Revealed—is the author.

“And I also just wanted to say that I’d like to hang out with you sometime, if you want to. You know, get to know each other better,” Skylar offers. “I know that back in Washington you were sort of seeing Kai. At least, that’s what the paper said. But I mean, everything’s changed now hasn’t it? Now that we’re here?”

“Are you asking me out?” I look between him and Rory, who is staring at me with laughing eyes and pursed lips. She begins biting her bottom lip, trying to hide her grin. I want to chuck the pillow at her.

As if trying to navigate the elements wasn’t enough, now I have to navigate boys. I’ll take the elements over the opposite sex any day.

“I’m sorry, Skylar,” I say, and shake my head. “I was—am—seeing Kai.”

He shrugs, and that boyish grin of his returns. “Hey, it was worth a try, right? I’ll see you around. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Okay,” I breathe, feeling put off by the whole situation. He just had to do this tonight.

But instead of trying to convince me again, he says goodbye to Rory and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Immediately, Rory rounds on me. “I can’t believe you just turned him down!”

I brush her off with, “I want to be with Kai, Rory.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you guys were ever like, super-official or anything, right? I mean, he’ll understand. It’s like Skylar said. Everything’s different now. You could at least get to know the guy. It’s not like you can go prance back to Capitol City and date Kai. The paparazzi would be on you like a bloodhound and then you’d be arrested by the government or something crazy like that. And Kai can’t exactly come here.”

She acts like I haven’t thought of this already.

In fact, it’s been on my mind since Julia mentioned the danger I’d be in if and when I return to the cities.

“I can’t do this right now.” I pull out a drawer and find some pajamas. “I need to stay focused on training. My parents’ lives are at stake here.”

“I don’t know why you seem so attached to that boy, but you two really are like peas in a pod aren’t you? You do realize his father is the one trying to kill you?”

“Kai isn’t his father. Kai’s the one who brought me here.”

I walk to the bathroom and change. But instead of returning to the room, I stare at myself for a long moment in the mirror.

I’m the same girl. Chestnut hair, almond eyes, pale skin. I run a hand through my hair, searching for the scar. It’s at the base of my neck, so small and insignificant, it’s barely noticeable. I run my fingers over the scab and recognize the pattern. An open circle dancing to form a flame, crossed with an X stitch that separates it into four pieces. I pull my hair up farther to see the mark. It will leave a scar, no doubt, branding the organization on my skin.

I interrupt Rory, who is now on her computer.

“What is this?” I ask, keeping my hair up.

She keeps reading but lifts up her hair. There is the faintest trace of the same brand at her hairline.

“See this?” She traces the X through the circle. “Each of the triangles it creates represents one of the elements—earth, air, water, and fire. After they perform the surgery and stitch the incision, they brand the skin closed with this mark. No one can ever know it’s here. The boys are marked here,” she says, and points about an inch into my hairline, “so it’s covered once the hair grows back. But you can still see it if you pull back the strands.”

She turns back to the computer. The headline reads
North American Sector Prepares for Elections
. It’s all the world can talk about. Capitol City is being transformed for the announcement, which will take place in front of the Capitol Building.

“Let me see that,” I peek over Rory’s shoulder at the news.

My parents went home immediately after rumors of my disappearance got out. My father has dropped in the polls; the election is too close to call. He and Westerfield are running neck and neck, according to the most-recent surveys.

People are starting to suspect, though my family has yet to confirm the news. Westerfield is using my disappearance against my father. He said, “If Mark Atwood can’t even keep his own daughter safe, how can he protect the country?” The line seems to be working in his favor.

“How are we going to stop him?” I ask her.

“We’re going to find the sniper he’s planning on planting at the election announcement.”

“Easier said than done.”

“We’ve kept detailed records of Westerfield’s correspondences. It’s just a matter of piecing together the information to discover his plan. Kai is helping as well.”

“You’re in contact with him?” I respond, too hopefully.

“Julia is.”

I’m desperate for any information about him. Kai is staying out of the limelight in recent days. He’s only been photographed once, and he pulled up the hood of his jacket to hide his face. I stare blankly at that article.

I know Rory is right. My face is too well-known to risk a return, and Kai can’t become a member of The Revealed. The only logical thing to do is move on.

If only it were that easy.

I don’t want to move on from Kai. I don’t want to stop thinking about him. As soon as we save my parents, I could go back. We could figure out our lives together. We could find a way to make a difference on our own. I don’t have to be a member of The Revealed. I have the option of going back, right?

Rory snaps her fingers in front of my face, “Earth to Lily.”

“Sorry.” I shake my head, clearing the thoughts.

“Yeah,” she says, grinning, “you definitely need some sleep.”

My body jerks awake.

I look over to the bed across the room. The rhythmic rise and fall of the sheets tells me Rory is still fast asleep.

The room is dark.

I wipe my hand across my brow, trying to dispel the cold chills that spread from my skin to my bones. I shiver and stand, unable to take being in the small, cramped bedroom anymore. I need air.

The dim hallways are a welcome calm in the middle of the night. I twist my hand, and a breeze kicks up around me, cooling my face. I feel like I can breathe again, though the memory of the dream doesn’t fade.

It’s more a nightmare, actually: standing with my family on a stage before the entire world. Kai is next to me. He is holding my hand. Beside him are Rory and Skylar. Slowly, they all begin to disappear, until I’m standing alone in front of millions of people.

I rub the back of my neck, trying to shake the images from the dream. I walk into the dining hall toward the large windows that cover the far wall. I stretch my hand across the glass, and ice extends from my fingers. Just like I practiced. I stare out at the darkness around me. A single streak of blue overhead is the only thing I can see.

The moon. It’s bright tonight.

I withdraw my hand, and the ice retreats from the glass.

I hear the soft steps approaching behind me before he speaks.

“You can’t sleep either?”

Lazily, I turn around, leaning my shoulder blades against the glass.

Skylar is standing in front of me with his jet-black hair and blue eyes that seem to pierce the synthetic night lights.

“I thought you said you weren’t stalking me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs. “I’m assuming you aren’t sleeping for the same reason I’m not.”

I shrug back. I’m not about to tell him my dream. I barely know him. He won’t understand, anyway. No one can understand what being in my position is like, except Kai. Not only can he relate to my situation, he knows
me.
I feel comfortable with him in a way I’ve never felt with anyone in my life, and, if I’m being honest, I’m kind of lonely without him around.

He has yet to respond to my email.

I stare back out at the ocean because the loneliness starts rising in my throat, and I don’t want Skylar to see my lips trembling.

He stands next to me, glancing up, seeming perfectly content in the silence. He rests his hands on the glass, staring in wonder. I’m glad the amazement at being at the bottom of the sea doesn’t fade.

I rub my eyes, trying to rid myself of the dream and the image of Kai burned on my brain. Right now I need to stay focused. My parents’ lives depend on it. I’m not going to lose them. I’m not going to let Westerfield take them.

“We’re going to stop him,” Skylar says after a moment.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. It’s like a good-versus-evil thing. Don’t you ever read comics?”

I give him a sideways glance.

“Okay, maybe that’s just a ‘me thing,’” he chuckles. “But we’re like the superheroes. And Westerfield is the bad guy. If my abilities have taught me anything, it’s that there’s a balance to the universe. People like Westerfield don’t succeed. Sure, the world thinks The Revealed are the bad guys and Westerfield may or may not be elected president, but he’ll get what’s coming to him eventually.”

I’m grinning without meaning to. I don’t believe all the superhero stuff, and the dream still lingers in my mind, but I can believe everything will be okay. I can let small fragments of Skylar’s optimism dig under my skin.

“So you wanna go hit the bags or something?” Skylar asks.

“Sure.”

I take the lead and we walk to south hall, where the classrooms and gyms are located. We choose one and go inside. I throw my hand in the air, and a small ball of light illuminates the room. It’s just bright enough that we can see our movements, but dim enough that it won’t alert anybody if they walk by. The last thing I need is an audience.

“You’re improving,” Skylar says, looking at the light that dances like glitter in the middle of the room. When I glance over at him, I see he’s carefully watching me. Was the doubt that apparent on my face?

I shrug, “It’s an easy trick.”

He concedes, “One of the easier ones,” and I punch his arm.

“Whoa,” he rubs the spot. “Put your gloves on before you start swinging, princess.”

“I am
not
a princess,” I gripe, but grab my gloves nonetheless.

“Whatever you say,” he teases, walking around to hold the bag for me.

I watch him with a wry expression as I slam my fist into the hard cushion in front of me.

“That’s it,” Skylar encourages, holding the punching bag steady as I pound it again and again. “Gotcha angry, didn’t I?”

I sigh, a little out of breath, and hit again, “Not angry enough. How long until I’m at your level?” I swing again.

“It’s different for everyone. You’ll get there,” he promises.

I know my body is transforming, adapting to strains it never had to worry about before. I can already feel it even though I’ve only been here for a handful of days. It makes me realize how capable The Revealed really are. There is a good chance they could actually stop this assassination. They’re an organization built on teamwork and careful honing of their abilities. If anyone has a chance to save my parents’ lives, it’s them.

All I can do is focus on training to keep from panicking about what Westerfield’s planning. Every time I get tired or out of breath, I think of my parents. They need me now, and they need The Revealed, even though they don’t know it yet.

“Alright,” I say and straighten. “Let’s go again.”

I hit the bag.

“Try throwing your palm out after you punch,” Skylar suggests. “You can create ice or fire. It’s a good technique that will give you the edge in hand-to-hand situations.”

I punch again but this time, do as he suggests. My ice doesn’t work very well. It melts as soon as it touches the bag.

“Like this,” he pulls away from the bag and shows me the step. His hand slices through the air, knuckles perfectly aligned. He makes a slight “umph” sound when his hand hits. Just as he pulls away, he throws out his hand, and ice spreads across the curved surface of the bag, crackling along its path.