The Tower (30 page)

Terry seemed quite embarrassed, but smiled and said, “You’re very welcome, Alia.”

We had another small party that night to celebrate the end of Alia’s drained mouth-speaking training. There was no cake this time, but we had plenty of ice cream. Terry had some fun giving me a hard time over the fact that Alia’s vocal abilities had caught up with my power balance. It was true, too. Draining still made me dizzy.

“Maybe you should wear the ring now, Adrian,” Terry said with an evil grin.

“Fortunately, it’s too small,” I said, laughing it off and hoping that Terry was only joking. She did, after all, still have the handcuffs.

I doubt Cindy and I could ever have forced upon Alia what she had to endure to get this far, but there was no denying the results of Terry’s unconventional methods. In just six months, Alia had gone from indecipherable baby-babble to somewhat clear and almost concise speech. She still used her telepathy whenever she was alone with me, and probably with Cindy and Terry too. But if there were two or more people in the room, Alia spoke aloud even if she was speaking to only one of them. It made polite sense, though I was sure that no matter how perfect Alia’s mouth-speaking became, she would still prefer to speak telepathically.

Chapter 10: A Fairytale Mission

There are few things that are for certain in this world, but one of them is that peace is as fickle as a candle in the wind. Only about a week and a half after our celebration of Alia’s achievement, something happened that once again threw all of our lives into chaos.

Cindy had been gone all morning, leaving me to tutor Alia in third-grade math. My sister had completed her mixture of first- and second-grade schooling just last month, and was plowing forward with her studies. I found it easier to teach her than to focus on my own textbooks, especially after another nightmare-ridden night.

Ever since my birthday last year, despite the fact that my daytime life had become almost mundane, my nightmares were nevertheless getting progressively worse, and I often found myself thinking of that enigmatic word, the origins of which continued to elude me: assembly. Every time I caught myself pondering its meaning, I kicked myself for letting the closet monster interfere with my mind.
It doesn’t mean anything,
I would think to myself angrily.
It’s just a stupid dream!

And yet, for all my efforts at trying to live a normal life, I had to admit that in the past few months, I had become increasingly prone to mood swings. Quite often, I would suddenly become angry or frustrated for no reason at all. Alia could usually snap me out of these moods, but I never knew when or why I might become irritated at the smallest things.

Cindy had merely restated her belief that I was still going through “typical PTSD” and that when I was mad, I should just be mad. I didn’t like that advice at all because I knew how much Alia hated it when I was grumpy. Besides, though I admittedly knew next to nothing about post-traumatic stress disorder, I nevertheless felt that this was something different. It was like my mind was struggling to tell me something, as if my consciousness was stuck in something that it couldn’t break free of. It was the kind of frustration you feel when you’re knee-deep in mud, and every time you try to pull one leg out, the other slips deeper into the sludge.

I was almost finished correcting Alia’s worksheets when I heard the front door open, and Cindy announced her arrival a second later. Alia got up and ran out of our room to greet her, so I followed. The moment I saw Cindy’s face, however, I knew she had something very serious to say.

“I just had a very long meeting with Mr. Baker,” Cindy began carefully.

“Is it Cat?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Cindy’s frown deepened. “No. I’m sorry, but they haven’t found her yet.”

“Then what’s going on?” I asked.

“Sit down, Adrian.”

I imagine that whenever someone says that, sitting down is the last thing you’d feel like doing. Nevertheless, I obediently sat down on a sofa, and Cindy sat across from me with Alia next to her.

“So what’s going on?” I asked again, wondering what could make Cindy look so serious.

“We’ve been called on for a mission.”

“A mission?” I repeated, surprised. “You mean, like, fighting the Angels?”

“That’s right.”

“And ‘we’ means who?” I asked.

“You, me, Alia.”

Alia? I was almost certain I had misheard her. I opened my mouth to say so, but there was a knock on the front door.

“Please let us explain,” Cindy said to me as she opened the door and Mr. Baker entered.

Before the Guardian leader could even greet me, however, I stood up and asked him bluntly, “What is this about a mission, Mr. Baker?”

Cindy frowned at my lack of manners. Alia remained seated, but looked nervously between Mr. Baker and me.

Mr. Baker replied calmly, “I will explain about the mission, Adrian, but first I want you to know how this came about. Please be patient with me.”

“Patience,” Cindy silently mouthed at me, and I returned a wry smile.

Once we were all seated around the coffee table, Mr. Baker began, “Perhaps you’ve already heard this from Cindy, Adrian, but the Angels currently have two master controllers. The older, Larissa Divine, is the current queen of the Angels. She is over eighty years old, and may not live many more years. When she dies, she will be succeeded by the younger, who is only about thirty.”

I knew the name Larissa Divine, of course, but I hadn’t known that she was so old or that she had a successor. I listened carefully as Mr. Baker continued, “The younger one... well, we don’t even know her name, so we simply call her Number Two. This Number Two will someday be the new queen of the Angels. Now, Queen Divine is far too well protected for us to approach. However, if we could capture Number Two, then all we’d have to do is wait out Larissa’s natural life, and the Angels will become master-less, just like us. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded slightly and replied, “I understand that you’re lying when you say you’re going to capture this Number Two. You have no use for a master controller for the Guardians, so you’ll be looking to kill her, not capture her. I’d really prefer it if you just talked straight, Mr. Baker.”

Mr. Baker looked taken aback, but recovered quickly and said, “I’m sorry about that, Adrian. Terry tells me that you’re a bit of a moral pacifist. I’ll be straight with you, then. It is indeed our plan to kill Number Two. We think she will be less protected than the queen, and could be within our power to terminate.”

I was already regretting asking him to talk straight. “Cindy said you want to send Alia on this mission. What does all this have to do with her?”

“I’m getting there,” said Mr. Baker. “You see, we have learned that the Angels have a gathering in less than a week, and one of the Angels attending may know who and even where Number Two actually is. We are hoping to capture this Angel by means of a trap.”

“What does that have to do with us?” I asked, still clueless as to what Mr. Baker was driving at.

Mr. Baker continued in a business-like manner, “We do not want to risk a direct raid on their community for fear of accidentally killing or losing our target Angel. We want to lure him out to us. Do you realize that you and Alia are the only child psionics in New Haven? Alia is the youngest psionic I have ever met, and the fact that she is also a healer makes her all the more valuable. The Angels would never pass up an opportunity to get her. We will place her in a house along their route to the gathering. They will assume that she is a wild-born psionic and move to intercept. Our Guardian Knights, hidden by Cindy in a neighboring house, will capture them when they come.”

“Alia is the bait?” I asked disbelievingly.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” replied Mr. Baker.

Alia, still sitting next to Cindy, remained silent.

I narrowed my eyes and said, “Mr. Baker, whatever happened to, ‘We are not savages’?”

“I am not asking her, or you for that matter, to fight,” said Mr. Baker. “Alia will be well protected at all times. We value her more than the Angels do, I assure you.”

“Have you forgotten that Alia isn’t even a Guardian?”

“But I am, Adrian,” said Cindy, putting an arm around Alia’s side. “And I’m Alia’s guardian.”

I rounded on her. “You agreed to this?!”

Cindy nodded. “Unwillingly at first, but yes, Adrian, I agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing, Cindy.”

“In this matter, I trust Mr. Baker,” Cindy said simply.

“Enough to leave Alia alone in a house to be targeted by the Angels?!”

“Of course not!” said Cindy. “She’s not going to be alone, because you’re going with her.”

“Like hell I am!” I shouted, shaking my head, all the more angry that she would assume something like that without even asking. “No way, Cindy!”

“Well, if you feel that strongly, I certainly won’t force you,” Cindy said with a smile. “I guess your sister will have to do this one alone.”

“That,” I sputtered, “is really, really,
really
unfair!”

“Adrian,” Cindy said in a calming tone, “I know this looks bad. But once you know the full details of the plan, I think you’ll agree that it’s not as risky as it seems.”

“This is insane, Cindy!” I shouted, jumping to my feet.

“This,” Cindy said heatedly as she stood up too, “is what you signed on for when you agreed to join the Guardians!”

“Cynthia, please,” said Mr. Baker, also getting up.

Then he turned to me and said, “This is what we call a calculated risk, Adrian.”

“A calculated risk?!” I repeated.

Mr. Baker nodded. “Adrian, I can’t promise you that this mission will be entirely risk-free. No mission ever is. But I guarantee that the risk is minimal and the prize is worth it. Taking out the Angels’ younger master could permanently turn this war around.”

“And you would kill this woman just for being a master controller?” I asked disgustedly. “Before she even becomes the queen of the Angels?” It wasn’t that I was taking the Angels’ side here, but my family had been destroyed simply because of what I was, not what I did. For me to help the Guardians kill an Angel who hadn’t yet done them any harm... To kill her now simply because of what she was and what she might someday become... It just didn’t feel right.

Mr. Baker sighed heavily. “Adrian, the sad truth of it is that the Angels’ monopoly on master controllers is costing us this war. They have our backs against the wall, and I no longer have the luxury of being an idealist. I have to work with what I have. I wouldn’t risk Cindy or Alia, or you for that matter, if this weren’t so important to the Guardian cause. This one mission could lead us straight to breaking the Angels’ advantage. In turn, it could also considerably speed you along to recovering your
real
sister, Adrian.”

“Alia is my real sister!” I shot back furiously.

Alia was the only one still sitting, and through the corner of my eye, I saw her looking up at me, smiling. I continued to glare at Mr. Baker.

“My apologies, Adrian,” Mr. Baker said quietly. “Please at least let us try to convince you of our plan. If you find fault with it, you are more than welcome to request changes.”

“Alright,” I said with a huff, sitting back down on the sofa.

Cindy and Mr. Baker sat too, and Mr. Baker explained, “Our information suggests that our target group consists of seven Angel psionics, but only two of them are Seraphim. Our team will have more than twenty of our very best Knights. We will also put two non-psionics in the house with you to keep you company during the mission. Neither Alia nor you will be hidden.”

I asked, “Wouldn’t it be kind of strange to find two wild-borns in the same house?”

“It would be, if they really could find two,” said Mr. Baker. “However, as both of you are children, it will be difficult for them to accurately sense either of you from any distance. As long as you stay together, a finder would think that the two of you are actually one child with three psionic powers – almost too good to be true.”

“How would a wild-born suddenly have three powers? I thought psionics developed over years.”