Branded (The Branded Series) (17 page)

“Yeah, it
really sucks that you can't be with her, dude.”

“Yup.”

Rachel and
Claudia approached us from behind. “Hey guys. How’s the game?” Claudia laughed
as she sat down beside me.

“Fast,” I
said. “Where were you two?”

“Our first
session was on strength,” Rachel said. “It was so cool. You guys are going to love
it. So, I was, like, lifting maybe a hundred pounds thinking I was all strong
and then Claudia gets up there and lifts, like, seven hundred pounds.”

“Get out,”
Noah laughed as he turned to Claudia. “Did you really?”

“Yeah, it was
nothing really.” Claudia laughed. “Just getting warmed up.”

Claudia was
below average for height and maybe a hundred pounds. Her shoulder-length brown
hair was streaked with blonde and always shiny and smooth along her tiny face.
Like Nick, she was definitely in shape. Her arms were toned and her calf
muscles were defined. I guess it made sense considering she was a cheerleader.

I pulled my
schedule out of my pocket and scanned the page for our strength class. Tomorrow
morning at nine o’clock.

“So after this
is supper, then it says we have a social time. What's that about, Claudia?”

“We just sit
around a campfire and the newcomers ask questions and such. It's a time to get
to know everyone. It's nice. You'll like it.”

There was
something motherly about Claudia. I liked being around her. I wondered if she
had a gift like Ms. Peters—one that made you feel protected and safe. “What’s your
gift, Claudia?” I came out and asked.

She turned and
pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose so I could look her right in
the eyes, which made me a little nervous. “Tonight at the campfire, Jake.
You're not a listener, are you?” she teased.

Rachel joined
in, “Neither of them are.”

“Hey, I
listen,” Noah defended.

“Ha!” Rachel
bumped him with her shoulder. “What's my favourite colour?”

I was glad she
asked Noah and not me. I normally tuned Rachel out as soon as she opened her
mouth. I hoped Noah wouldn't look too obvious about liking her if he knew the
answer.

“Purple. And
your favourite food is Thai. And your favourite actress is Angelina Jolie. And
your favourite movie is 27 Dresses.”

Slightly
obvious.

Rachel stared
at him with her mouth half ajar. “I can't believe you remembered all that. Now
if only your memory was that good in school.”

“It's not hard
to remember when you enjoy the subject,” Noah said bravely.

There was a
long, awkward silence so I piped up. “So, tonight at the campfire. You'll give
me some answers then, will you?”

Claudia smiled
a sweet smile. “Of course. It's not that interesting, really, it's just I'm
sure Nick will want to be there—he’s the storyteller.”

Just then the
long bullhorn sounded and everyone began dispersing from their various stations
and heading in the direction of the mess hall for supper. Noah, Nick and I
found our table and sat down with the rest of the guys from our cabin. Their
ages ranged from the youngest being six years old to the oldest being sixty. We
exchanged names and general information, but nothing about our gifts, which I
thought was odd.

“Psst, Nick,”
I whispered, leaning in. “Why is there never any talk about gifts?”

“Aaah, you
noticed,” Nick mumbled as he shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into his
mouth. After he swallowed, he whispered back, “You can lose your gift if you
misuse it, you know. You have to practise humility, which means you don't go
bragging about your gift. It can be taken away just as fast as it was given to
you.”

“Is it rude to
talk about it around the campfire?”

“No. That's
the one place where anything goes. What happens 'round the campfire stays
'round the campfire. You'll learn a lot of good stuff there. Just got to be
open-minded.”

I sat in
silence for a few moments thinking about the possibility of my gift being taken
away. On the one hand, I could be with Anna again, but on the other hand, I
wouldn't have this cool gift. And what if Anna was seriously hurt? What if she
was in a car accident and I couldn't help her? I eventually found my fork and
started to pick away at my chicken dinner, having resolved that it would be
better to die alone knowing that the one I loved would always be safe.

The campfire started
when the sun
went down. We followed the path near the main lodge which led us to a clearing
where a roaring fire sat in the middle, surrounded by four three-tiered
benches. Noah and I found Nick, Claudia and Rachel sitting on a middle bench at
the far side. We made our way around and sat down in front of them on the lower
bench. The heat from the fire was just the right amount of warmth on the cool
April evening.

“There you
guys are,” Rachel said as she slid down next to Noah, who immediately smiled in
response.

I rolled my
eyes, and then turned to Nick and Claudia. “So what's the agenda like for this
campfire thing?”

They both
laughed and Nick replied with a grin, “Hope you can sing.”

Claudia rolled
her eyes as she shuddered from the cold. Nick wrapped his arms around her and
rested his chin on the top of her head. Claudia was a lot like Anna. She was
small and delicate looking, but had a very strong and independent personality,
making it clear that she could hold her own.

“Sing, eh?” I
chuckled. “Not a chance. I bet Rachel does though.”

“Oh, I love to
sing!” Rachel said excitedly.

“Of course you
do,” I teased.

“But we don't
have
to sing, do we?” Noah asked Claudia and Nick, feigning nervousness.

Nick laughed.
“Of course you do.”

“No, you
don't, Noah.” Claudia elbowed Nick. “Don't listen to anything Nick says.”

People began filtering
into the
campfire ring. The benches quickly filled up with bodies huddling together
under blankets. A couple of guys pulled out their guitars and started strumming
some old campfire songs until everyone was singing along.

The music went
on for quite some time. The fire continued to crackle and mesmerize me with its
flickers of light and energy. I wished Anna were sitting next to me so we could
cuddle. I could almost smell her lavender skin.

The music died
down as a tall elderly man stood up across the bonfire from us and held up his
hands for silence.

“Welcome
Gifted Ones,” he said, slowly circling the fire. “Those of you who don't yet know
me, I am . . .” he paused, almost as if that was it. He was. He was what? “I am
James Chisholm,” he finally continued. “I've been the head counsellor here for
as long as I can remember and I am looking forward to leading this next
generation of Gifted Ones.”

Everyone
clapped in response, and with admiration. Just by the applause, it wasn’t hard
to tell that this man was held high on some sort of pedestal. He was much older
than I would’ve thought the head counsellor should be. Seventy, maybe? Or
eighty, even? But then again, other than the frail body and the wrinkled skin,
he gave off a much younger aura. His eyes were still bright, round, and full of
life. His teeth sparkled white with every smile. His hands were firm and
strong. Maybe he was younger.

“Now,” he
continued, cutting my thoughts short, “all you newcomers are sure to have lots
of questions. This is the time for them. If anyone has a question for me, or
for anyone else here, I open the floor up to you now.”

A few mutters
were overheard, but no questions were asked. I fiddled with the string on my
track pants, bouncing my leg, something my mother told me I did when I was trying
to figure out a math problem. I had so many questions, but I definitely wasn't
going to be the first one to ask.

Then I felt a
smack on the back of my head.

“Ouch! What
the—?” I turned to glare at Nick who was smirking and nodding toward James.

“Go ahead,
man,” he whispered.

I shook off my
desire to clock him back and then slowly raised my hand. All eyes turned to me.

“Yes, sir.
What is your name?” James asked.

“Ah—” I
cleared my throat then continued, “I'm Jake.”

He took a step
back and said, “Jake from Halifax, right? I've heard about you. Quite the
reputation you have already with that special little talent of yours.”

If I wasn't
red-faced prior to that point, I definitely was now, even though I wasn't quite
sure what information had preceded me.

“Is that
right?” I forced a laugh.

“Yes, indeed,”
James said as he turned to the crowd, keeping his eyes on me. “Jake is a
healer. A very promising one, at that.”

There were a
lot of nods and murmurs throughout the crowd. Were there other healers here? Surely
I wasn't the only one.

“What is your
question, Jake?”

My mind raced
as I tried to pick the most important question. Then I just decided to blurt it
out. “What's the protocol on relationships, sir?”

Everyone
laughed. That was embarrassing.

James held up
a hand to silence the crowd. “You're asking if you're allowed to have a
girlfriend, Jake?” he said with a little grin.

“Well, not
exactly. I know I'm allowed to do whatever I want, it's just I'm wondering, I
guess, what the real risks are.” Ms. Peters had already told me, but I needed
to hear it from someone else. To be sure. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe things
were different. This guy would know. I knew he would.

“Good
question, Jake,” the old man said as he turned his back to me and faced the
rest of the group. “I'm sure that's on a lot of your minds, actually, and I
should know since I can read your minds.” He chuckled, amused by his own joke.

Noah and I
quickly exchanged an interested look. We hadn't been told about the mindreading
gift. I supposed there were a lot of things we didn't yet know about.

“And,” James
continued, “I know there are several of you who have chosen to have special
relationships with ungifted people. I am not here to tell you whether that is
right or wrong, but I will ask you,”—James turned and stared at me with eyes
wide and glowing from the reflection of the fire—“is it worth the risk?”

I felt my face
burn, more from defeat than anything else. I already knew the answer, but I
guess I just needed to hear it again.

An unfamiliar
voice from across the fire spoke up, “But what is the risk? What are you
talking about? I didn't know anything about this.”

James turned
to greet her, a teenager about the age of eighteen or nineteen. “Allow me to
explain,” he started as he paced back and forth, tapping his fingertips
together. “Everyone here is gifted. Chosen, if you will. You're not immortal by
any means, but you have special gifts that allow you to have an edge over the
dark ones we call the Defiers. You are blessed with these gifts so that you can
fulfill prophesy and help those in need, which often entails dealing with the Defiers.
You’ve been told that much by your Seeker. Your gifts are selfless gifts, and
as you know, you can lose your gifts if you expose the truth about yourself to
others.

“Now, when you
enter into a relationship with an ungifted person, he or she instantly becomes
a target by the Defiers. By injuring your loved one, they will weaken you. And
once you are weak, they can easily kill you.”

Silence fell
over the crowd. I felt like a jerk for bringing up such a depressing topic at
the beginning of the discussion.

“Don't feel
bad, Jake.” James had obviously read my thoughts again. “These are things you
all need to know.”

“I have a
question, Mr. Chisholm,” Rachel politely interrupted.

“Yes. What is
your name?” James asked.

“I am Rachel
Riley,” she said with confidence, clearly expecting her reputation to have
preceded her, as well.

“Rachel who?”
he said with a grin.

“Riley, sir.
Rachel Riley.”

“And what is
your gift, Ms. Riley?” James asked for the benefit of everyone listening.

“Prophesy,”
she responded sheepishly.

“Rachel the
Prophet,” James laughed to himself as he poked at the fire with a log. “Okay,
Ms. Riley, what is your question?”

“I'd like to
know if there is any way to tell the Gifted Ones from the Defiers? Like, how do
you know if someone is really good when they say they are?”

The old man
gently laid the log down beside the fire and answered, “Unfortunately, unless
you are gifted with Discernment, it's nearly impossible to tell the difference
between good and evil people. However, Gifted Ones are branded with a mark,
which is a clear way of being able to identify one.”

I felt my
eyebrows crinkle as I waited for him to explain. Ms. Peters had mentioned the
mark of the Gifted Ones, but I was so preoccupied with having to break up with
Anna that I hadn’t asked her anything else about it.