Whispers in Autumn (20 page)

***

To my surprise, I sleep sound and long, opening my eyes mere moments before Mr. Morgan hollers up the stairs for me to get a move on. The past days have reinvigorated the pent-up energy I’ve carried around all these years. At last it has somewhere to go. My life has been spent blending in, going unnoticed, figuring out how to act normal. Now, I might be able to not only make sense of my existence, but take control of it.

At any rate, once roused, I make it out of the house in record time, waiting for Lucas on the sidewalk for a full five minutes before he ambles out.

“Morning.” My grin won’t stop, and I hop from foot to foot until he arrives at my side.

Lucas stops in front of me, his eyes softening as he tucks a thick piece of hair behind my ear. His fingers brush down my cheek, leaving an odd, icy-hot feeling in their wake. Then he grins. “So what are you dying to tell me?”

“I read those words inside the shiny little book, you know? Most of them were pretty, but some stuck out at me. The ones about the seasons and how they turn. The line ‘to everything there is a season.’ It made me think about us.” My ideas bubble out as we walk to Cell. They could be way off base, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve gone over it in my head a hundred times since last night and it feels true.

“You mean, because we both skip a season?”

I nod, wishing he wouldn’t interrupt. “Yes. But there are two of us, and four seasons. And the note, the one from Ko, says there are more—not
another
, not
one
more. See what I’m saying?”

Understanding dawns in his eyes, excited and wondrous. “You think there are two more like us. One who misses the autumn, and one who misses the spring?” His expression amends to thoughtful. “You know, you might be on to something there.”

“And the scents clinging to us, they remind people of the seasons we skip, too, right? You said yourself jasmine reminds you of summer in Georgia. The Others said the same thing the night they tried to brainwash me. That I smell like summer. Maybe you’ve never spent winter in Iowa but you sure smell like the groves of pine trees on the edges of the park there.”

Lucas is silent for a minute, considering all the evidence carefully, which I’m coming to know reflects his thoughtful nature. We are inexplicably linked to those seasons we never experience; even our strange abilities mirror them. It makes weird sense that there are two more like us, whatever we are, out there traveling, too. One who never sees the leaves fall off the trees or feels the air turn chilly. Another who never watches flowers bloom, or endures days on end of warm rain.

The realization must hit Lucas at the same time it does me, for we both start talking, our eyes huge, matching discs. “Deshi—”

We stop. Lucas gestures for me to go.

“Deshi smells like spring. Or at least, he did when he first got here. He still does, just a rotten spring instead of a fresh one.”

Lucas nods. “It makes sense, if it
is
time for us to meet, that all three of us would be thrown together. The fourth can’t come here, because it’s autumn.”

An errant thought drags down my jubilant mood. Lucas’s mention that our autumn counterpart can’t come here brings back the knowledge of our ultimate separation. My heart aches at the thought of being alone again. If I go to winter, or Lucas to summer, we can’t be together.

“This is crazy.” My brain struggles to wrap around the reality of our lives. “Why do we travel? Why do we skip seasons we resemble? There has to be a reason.”

“I’d love to be able to answer even one of those questions. Or, why aren’t we pleasant, happy robots like everyone else?”

The suggestion makes me shudder. “As weird as my life is, I wouldn’t trade being able to feel for anything. Would you?”

“No. Not now, anyway. A couple of weeks ago I might have considered it.” The way his eyes linger on my face makes my cheeks heat up, and he chuckles. “Are you always going to turn into a furnace like that?”

“Hey, it’s not like your cold hands don’t make me jump!”

Lucas grabs my hand, disproving my jab when I don’t jump at all but latch onto him for dear life. We stroll without speaking for several minutes until the Cell comes into view down the street. We reach the front doors, both sporting our usual smiles now, and go our separate ways. The day is uneventful, as things go. Leah spills her milk in my lap at lunch, but these episodes of hers have become common. Lucas catches me in the hall before our chemistry exam. His eyes glow as he shuts my locker for me and tugs my arm.

“There are still seven minutes before block. What’s the hurry?”

“I want to show you something.”

Curiosity heightens my senses as we enter the empty chemistry room and he leads me to the supply cabinets. The tops are littered with empty beakers sitting two to a tray, identical in size, along with a heating device and a thermometer.

“You want to show me beakers?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Just watch.” He pushes the sleeves of his thin shirt up to his elbows and wraps his strong hands around the glass container. Within seconds it frosts over, emitting a series of small cracks and pops. He pulls his hands away, grinning like an idiot.

I reach out a finger and touch the glass, feeling my eyes widen. It’s frozen solid. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Yes. It took me a few tries to figure out how much power to use.”

“Can you control it?”

He avoids my gaze. “I’m getting better. I accidentally froze all the clothes in my closet this morning.”

I laugh, noticing now that he’s wearing the same outfit as the day before. “Interesting. What are you going to do to the Others, imprison them in blocks of ice?”

“Maybe. At least I’m trying.”

Lucas’s response gets under my skin, but he’s right. Trying to harness the heat still scares me, even though I managed to keep a tight rein on it when heating the water in Fils’ bowl house. It’s
fire
, though. If I lose control, or use too much, things could get ugly fast. “So what are you going to do about these frozen beakers now?”

Students will begin to trickle in any moment. He gives me a sly look that I interpret and shake my head. Now is not the time to give it a go. “No way, Lucas. People are going to be here any second. You shouldn’t be fooling around with this at Cell.”

He shrugs. “We have an exam today. They’ll thaw before anyone notices.”

Lucas and I move from the counter and take our seats as people file in. The giggling and other end-of-the-day nonsense dissipates as the lights dim and the Monitor begins block.

“Students, we’ve had a change of plans for today. The Wardens asked that we wait to give your first exam until everyone has completed their interview. Instead, we’ll conduct an experiment. Partner with the person to your right; go pick up the trays assembled at the back.”

My mouth goes dry. I shoot to my feet beside Lucas but by the time we get to the counter half the class is in front of us. Several pairs have selected trays, and the frozen beakers are gone. There’s no way to find out who has them.

The Monitor projects the experiment on the screen and there’s nothing to do but get started. We are to boil water over a burner, then dump it into one beaker. The other is to be filled with cold water. Afterward we’ll place them in a cooler and observe which freezes first.

The hot one will. We all know it. It kind of defeats the purpose of an experiment when you complete it multiple times.

My hands shake, spilling some of the cold water onto Lucas’s desk. He takes the pitcher from me in silence, nerves crackling between us like electricity. No one speaks up about having frozen beakers. Maybe they don’t notice, or perhaps they think everyone else’s are as well.

Lucas’s hand brushes mine and turns it into ice. Not literally, thank the stars. I glare at him, lecturing with my eyes. This is what he gets for experimenting at Cell. If we’re going to test the extent of our capabilities, we need to be careful. Smart.

The pot of water on the heating device reaches a boil and Lucas uses a towel to grab it by the handle and dump in into the second container. Steam begins to waft off the scalding water when a loud crack followed by the sound of water pouring onto the floor stops my heart. My body, already tense, springs forward in search of the source. A girl near the front gasps for breath, dark red blood spilling out of her clenched left hand. Her lab partner stares, open-mouthed and helpless.

The sight of the blood burns my stomach and black spots pop in front of my eyes. I stop dead in my tracks, waiting to see what will happen. The rest of our Cellmates continue their experiments, glancing up at the commotion every couple of seconds.

The injured girl makes strange whimpering noises but no water spills down her face. Her skin looks white as a sheet, colorless against her rich brown sweater and the crimson liquid puddles on her desk. She grabs her lab partner with her free hand, squeezing so hard I can see her skin redden from here. “It hurts, Emmy.”

The Monitor’s voice punches through my deadened hearing. “What’s going on, girls? Reese, why are you bleeding?” She’s calm and collected even though Reese’s blood collects on the desk and floor. It’s not like she’s going to Break, though she does look ready to fall down.

Then again, the kids with the nosebleeds shouldn’t have Broken, either.

Reese’s eyes cloud over and she sways on her feet. Emmy reaches out an arm and answers for her partner. “The beaker broke, ma’am. I think it was frozen.”

My heart stops and my body rocks in sympathy with Reese’s. Lucas steps up beside me, close enough to touch. He sucks in a breath and holds it; my own lungs burn with unspent air.

The Monitor’s eyebrows dart up in surprise. “Frozen? Why would your supplies be frozen? I’m going to have to report this. In the meantime, Emmy, take her to the Administrator’s office and call a Healer.”

Emmy nods, still supporting a wobbly Reese as they head out of the room. The Monitor clears her throat at the rest of us, still immobilized by the incident. “Get back to your experiments, class. Are anyone else’s beakers frozen?” When she doesn’t get a response she nods. “Very well. Carry on.”

Lucas and I huddle over his desk, resuming our work as the Monitor puts us on mute and activates her personal communication device. She’s definitely reporting what happened to the Others. What Lucas has done, in effect, is tell them there’s an abnormality in this period, and with our interviews the week after next. It’s one thing to sneak outside the boundary, to have secret paper cup conversations, even to try overhearing an interview, but it’s another thing entirely to face the Others head-on.

A couple of Wardens enter the room five minutes later, laden with cleaning supplies and irritated dispositions. They make quick work of the blood and broken glass, then station themselves on either side of the exit. When the bell rings we put away our materials, gather our things, and get in the line waiting to leave.

The Wardens don’t speak to anyone but we pass right in between them on our way out. I go first, then Lucas. They don’t stop us. We separate to stop at our respective lockers. The dread burrowed inside me pulses and grows, encouraged by concern.

I don’t know those girls, Emmy and Reese, at all. I’ve never spoken to them. Now Reese has been injured, and even though I didn’t do it, part of me feels responsible. Lucas would never have frozen those beakers if we hadn’t agreed to test ourselves.

I grab my coat and scarf out of my locker and slam it shut, jumping when Leah’s rosy complexion appears where the door was. “Leah. You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Her eerie smiles sends shivers down the back of my neck. “Did you hear about Emmy and Reese?”

It’s a strange question, considering we all have chemistry together and everyone saw what happened to Reese’s hand. Silent warnings to tread carefully echo in my mind. “Yes, I did. Reese got cut.”

Leah shakes her head, messy curls full of life. “No. After they went to the Administrator.”

My fingers curl tight around my backpack. “What happened?”

Her smile stretches wider, pleased by her secret. “They had to talk to the Wardens because the Monitor reported their frozen beakers…” She draws out the story as though she wants me to beg, but when I refuse she continues with a quiet grunt. “They’re Broken. The Wardens took them away.”

CHAPTER 20.

That could have been us.

I stomp out the front doors and pass Lucas without speaking, fighting shame at my selfishness. He jogs to catch up and keeps pace. When we’re alone—as much as we ever are—I stop and face him. “I told you we shouldn’t be fooling around at Cell.”

The color drains from his face as he reads the mix of emotions in my eyes. “There’s something besides the beakers. What’s going on?”

A lump crawls into my throat, pasty like a wet piece of paper. I am angry with Lucas for being careless, but it’s relief that makes me want to collapse. We weren’t caught today, but the strange episode means our chemistry block could fall under even more scrutiny in the interviews. Words take a minute, first having to wiggle past the clump of thick emotions. “The Wardens took those girls away.”