Ignition Point (5 page)

Thom looked up to find Alex. His friend was moving through the room, turning off the showers, then returning the bench back to the locker area. Thom rose to join him. Alex handed him a towel.

“Dry yourself, quickly. No footprints in the halls.”

Thomas nodded, drying his feet. The two of them fled the scene, leaving Marreau and the metal bar he’d shoved through the door handles on the floor of the room behind them.

They ran through the halls, their desire for silence and to watch for any others who might be searching for them at war with the need to be back in their bunks, back to the illusion of safety.

They made it, barely breathing so they’d not wake the other boys, long since passed out in their own bunks. They hurriedly stripped and buried damp clothes in their bins before climbing into nightclothes and beds.

Thomas didn’t know if Alex would have an easier time sleeping than he would. His mind wouldn’t stop working. Why had they come back? Why hadn’t they just headed back up to the surface and left the school in the night? Better to take their chances on the desert than to stay and face discovery. His adrenaline slowly faded and he found himself fighting sleep.

Rough, hissed voices woke him in the middle of the night. He froze in fear.

“—all of them? All night?” A man’s hard, intent voice. “This is important, Alex. You’re sure?”

Alex’s voice, rough with sleep. “Yes, Guardian.”

“Even Thirteen Eighty-four? Thomas? The Scav rescue?”

“Yes, Guardian. Everyone. Do you want me to wake them?”

There was a long pause. “No.”

“Yes, Guardian.”

“Just Fourteen Twenty-seven.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Wake Fourteen Twenty-seven, Honor Ward. I want to speak to Patrick.”

Why would they want to wake Patrick? Did they suspect him? Thomas realized the motive with a cold pang.

They know that if any of the boys will betray you, it’ll be Patrick.

Thomas could hear a rustle as Alex moved from his bed and down the aisle between the bunks. From below and to his right, he heard Alex wake Patrick. The other boy’s sleepy protests were quickly muffled as Alex whispered insistently that the Guardian wished to speak to him. The two boys returned to the front of the room. Thomas kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Patrick.” The Guardian’s voice was smooth. “I need to ask you a series of questions. You must keep your eyes on me, answer immediately, and tell only the truth. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Guardian.” Patrick’s voice wasn’t sleepy anymore. It was wide awake and ready.

“Were all of the boys in the unit here and present at lights out?”

“Yes, Guardian,” Patrick smoothly lied.

“To your knowledge, have any of the boys left this room tonight after lights out?”

“No, Guardian.”

“Patrick, this is very important. There was an assault on a Senior Ward tonight. Were all of the boys here and present tonight, all night?”

“Yes, Guardian.” But this time, there was a hitch in Patrick’s answer, a hesitation.

Thomas winced on the inside.

The Guardian pounced. “But…?”

“Well, Theo was sick. He left a couple times to go to the bathroom. But he came right back. We all heard him. It was a rough night. He just fell asleep.” The implication was that they’d all just fallen asleep.

“So you were awake most of the night?”

“Yes, Guardian. We all were.”

“And no one went missing at any point?”

“No, Guardian.”

“Not even Thirteen Eighty-four?”

“Thomas?” Patrick didn’t bother to hide the scorn he felt for his bunk-mate when he said the name. Patrick sighed heavily, as if regretful that he could not condemn his nemesis. “No, Guardian. He was here, too. All night.”

The Guardian exhaled. “Thank you, Patrick. Alex. You both may return to your bunks and your sleep. If you hear anything from any of the other boys, please be sure you report it immediately. Alex, ensure the rest of the boys understand the seriousness of the situation in the morning. We should all be aware and listening. Crime will not be tolerated at the Ward school.”

Alex and Patrick murmured that they would do so.

For several long moments after the Guardian left, the bunk room was silent. There wasn’t any reason to pretend he was sleeping anymore, so Thomas sat up. He wasn’t the only one. The other boys were either sitting up or had rolled over, eyes wide open. Even Theo, clutching his belly, was hunched over and watching Alex and Patrick.

Alex held a finger to his lips to caution them to silence. He glided over to the door and placed his ear on it, listening intently for several minutes. Thomas waited, breath held.

Alex came back to them. He put his hands on his hips and lowered his head to stare at the floor before he raised it to meet the curious faces of the other boys.

They all knew Patrick had lied. They all knew Thomas and Alex had been gone.

“What did you do?” The hoarse question came from the back of the room.

Thom wasn’t even sure who it was that asked. But it was Patrick who answered, not Alex.

“Does it matter?” Patrick spoke with his usual angry bravado. “We’re a unit. All of us.” His gaze flicked up to include Thomas. “So maybe you can help some of the rest of us figure shit out, not just Alex.”

Thomas blinked, hearing the murmured agreements of other boys. They wanted study help? “I—of course, I would. I didn’t know anyone else wanted help.” He shrugged and picked at his blanket. “All you had to do was ask.”

Alex waited a beat before speaking. “Thanks, Patrick. Thomas. All of you. We are a unit. And obviously we need to work on talking stuff out. As Honor Ward, I should start.” He paused again. “It goes without saying, guys—this is unit business.” His gaze swept over them all, warning them to silence.

“I can’t tell it all. Some of it is Thomas’s story, and it’s his to tell. You should ask him, though.” Alex took a deep breath. “But tonight I found out some of what he’s told me before is true. The Council is doing business with Scavs.”

There were gasps and denials. Alex nodded, accepting them. He’d felt the same way.

“It’s true,” he said. “They have some kind of pact. And they’re trading in Sparks. The Council
bought
Thomas. They didn’t rescue him. They bought him after Scavengers killed his family. For all we know, they sent the Scavengers to kill his family.” He waited until the soft buzz of voices died away. “I
heard
them talking about it—the WardMaster and Councilor Five. It’s true. And they said that if Thomas remembers it was an agent who bought him, then they’ll kill him. When they heard me, when they sent a Senior Ward after me, there’s no doubt in my mind they planned the same for me.”

The room was quiet as they digested his news.

Finally, Patrick asked, “So what do we do?”

“I leave,” Thomas said.

Alex’s head snapped up. “What? No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not going to put the rest of you in danger. They’ll kill me for knowing. They’ll kill all of you, too. I won’t do that.”

“Too late,” Patrick said. “We all already know.”

“They don’t know that,” Thomas answered. He could feel the edge of frustration. He was trying to save them. The least they could do is cooperate.

Alex crossed his arms. His face was set and determined. “If the Council’s not what we thought it was, if it’s not what it’s meant to be, then we have to find some way to fight it. To change things again.”

The sound of agreement passed like a wave through the room.

“And how are we supposed to do that? We’re kids. No. The best thing is for me to leave and take the focus off all of you.”

“Fine. So you’re gone. And what about Sam? He knows. What about all the other kids in this school who believe the lies?”

“Sam’s an adult. And the other kids are assholes. They’ll make perfect Council agents.” Thom didn’t care that his voice was sullen now. Even when he was trying to do the right thing, he still got shit from them. Including Alex.

“Okay.” Alex’s voice was soft. He was holding up a hand to keep the others from reacting. Obviously, he knew that Thomas’s words were true. They had been assholes. “Fine, they’ve been assholes. So have I. But what about the boys like you who are out there in the world? What about the kids who are being tested this year? And the next year? And the year after that? We can’t let the Council make all of them do bad stuff. The Council can’t get away with it.”

Thomas stared at him. He swallowed and looked down, then back up again to flick his gaze around the room at the other boys. Some of them were nodding. All of them were solemn. They’d all been trained to act, to believe they would make a difference in the world. Someday, they’d have the authority to make decisions to protect the people. They were assholes, yeah, but they weren’t corrupt. Not yet.

What was that like, to be so certain of your power and your fate and your ability to move the world? Would he have felt the same if he’d been here at the Ward School from the beginning? Would he be so sure of himself?

Would he learn it if he stayed?

“Okay,” he said softly. “But if I stay, we’re all at risk. Just so you know.”

“We’re at risk anyway,” Patrick responded. The kid was smiling up at Thomas in approval.

Thomas managed a lopsided return. He slid down from his bunk to stand with Alex and Patrick. “We’re still kids. What can we do?”

“Nothing,” Alex said. “Not now. But in ten, twelve years, when we’re Senior Agents—when they’ve turned us into weapons. It’ll be different then.”

Thomas was quiet, thinking it through, ignoring the excited whispers that erupted across the room. “We have a good fifteen years to play along and figure it out,” he said. He squinted up at the ceiling, talking slowly as he worked things out. “But there’s still only two of us—”

“There’s eight of us,” Patrick cut in. “But can we do it?”

“We’d have fifteen years to recruit, too,” Alex added. “Don’t forget that. There’ll be more of us when we’re ready.”

Thomas took another deep breath, exhaling it at the ceiling. “We have to plan. If we do this, we have to be smart. Smarter than any of them.” He looked around the room at the boys who were giving him their attention as much as they had Alex moments before. Then he cast a leery eye at Alex. “You’ll have to study, Alex. Like, really study. You can’t just skate by, waiting to be picked for field work anymore. We’d need more from you. We’d need you to be the best across the board. Can you handle that?”

Instead of answering Thomas’s questions, Alex responded, “It’ll mean we have to be tough, too. There’s more to being the best than books. Can
you
handle that?”

Thomas felt the grin split his face. “I can handle anything you can dish out.”

“Yeah? Well, back at you. So can I.”

“Yeah, right.” Thomas raised his brows.

“Yeah. Right. C’mon.” Alex held his arms out indicating he was ready for a challenge. “You don’t believe me? Quiz me! And then I’ll quiz you.”

Thomas frowned. “Quiz me? How’re you gonna do that?”

Alex took two quick steps toward Thom, raising his fisted hand. Thom saw him coming, but he was too slow to turn. Too slow to block. Alex slugged him in the upper arm.

Pain exploded in Thomas’s arm, and he staggered back. He saw stars, then a wash of red. Before he lifted his face back to his friend, he had to work hard to blink the rage away. “You
suck,
” was all he could manage.

“No. You suck. That’s the point. You failed your first quiz. Get your arms up, Scab, before I think of the next question.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes at Alex. Before he could threaten the big jerk, though, he was distracted by the stupid grin Patrick wore. The kid was excited. They all were. Alex wore a big smile, too.

“Yeah,” Alex looked at Patrick and finally responded to Patrick’s question. “We can do it.”

“We can.” Patrick nodded.

“No,” Thomas corrected them. He rubbed his upper arm and rotated it, ending with a firm nod. “We
will
do it. We all will. We’ll do it for the Sparks.”

Blood
and Water

Zone Four

Ten years before the events in
Spark Rising
…

"He won't do it, Grandfather. He's weak.” The loathing in Jacob’s voice had never been more clear. “He’s a blight on our family.”

Lucas bit his cheek until he tasted blood. His questions had already disappointed the old man perched behind the desk in front of them, and he knew better than to speak out of turn. God forbid he should ever forget his place and argue in front of the man. Jacob might have earned those privileges. Lucas certainly hadn’t.

Their grandfather’s head slowly turned. His pale, icy eyes—the color Lucas had inherited—were frigid as he regarded Jacob for a long, silent moment. When he spoke, however, his voice was soft and encouraging. “A blight? How so?”

Lucas turned his head to look at his brother, who stood at attention beside Lucas.

“Yes, sir. A blight. For as long as I can remember, you’ve always taught us that Sparks are demons, living proof of the times of Tribulation. Why else would they have power over energy, over fire? That Lucas was born to our family is a sign of our shame.”

“Our shame? Stupid boy, Lucas is a sign of our favor.” Grandfather’s stare bored into Jacob.

Lucas’s stomach dropped in shock.

Does he mean it?

“Our family’s birth record has been spotless—not a single stain of Spark blood. Lucas was born a Spark, yes, but he was born only a month after I was blessed with weeks of visionary dreams that showed me I needed to send a Spark forth to infiltrate the enemy.” The old man leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands. “But where would I get such a creature? A loyal Spark? A man with the abilities that would gain him access to their world while retaining the conscience and piety, the humanity, of ours?” Grandfather shook his head. He reached out to spin the teacup in front of him, a meditative movement.

“I had done my work too well,” he continued. “Our Sparks live apart. They know their place, even those that come to us as agents from the Ward School. Our Reintegration Program guarantees that. We don’t have a single Spark who could meet the eyes of the non-powered, who could manage to pass as one of
them
.

“I knew what I needed. I prayed for guidance. And I was gifted Lucas. Why do you think I sent him away as a child?”

Lucas’s mouth opened and closed. Jacob stood motionless. Was he as shocked as Lucas? He must be.

Grandfather turned to Lucas. “You’re surprised. Tell me why
you
think I sent you away.”

Lucas cleared his throat. “You sent me away because you could not bear the sight of me, but you could not stand having one of your family living in the Kennels.” Lucas repeated the line his mother had told him, using the colloquial term for the Spark village that was set apart. She’d told him her version of the truth on one of her rare visits to faraway Zone Six where Lucas was fostered. And as if telling him the truth had set her free, she’d never returned. Even as a boy, he’d justified her absence for her. It was a long journey from the Pacific Northwest to the far side of the Great Plains.

Only Grandfather had ever made the trip after that.

“If I could not bear the sight of you, Lucas, then why did I travel there twice every year, at my age and in my health? Why spend weeks with a caravan just to see you?” Grandfather wore a soft smile.

“But….” Lucas found himself shaking his head. “When you brought me home last autumn, you told me I should never use the Spark. Never mention it. I thought—I thought you were ashamed of me.”

Lucas had violated that secrecy. He’d told Meredith.

She was the first person who’d ever loved him. She loved him even after he told her. She’d been shocked, of course. A thing like that? Your secret boyfriend, the grandson of your Councilor, is a
Spark
? But it hadn’t taken more than a few minutes for her to smile up at him, green eyes glowing with her belief in him, and tell him that he was still her Lucas. She felt no shame toward him.

And now…Grandfather, too?

“Lucas. I have never been ashamed. I have been proud every day that my grandson was chosen. Where others will see a mere Spark, I see a flaming sword of righteousness.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacob dared to whisper.

Grandfather returned his gaze to Lucas’s brother. “Lucas is not a curse, Jacob. Lucas is a blessing, a tool, given to us to show favor.” Grandfather looked again at Lucas. “And
that
is why you must go away again. I arranged this position for you at the Zone Three Post-Secondary Training Facility so you could be fast-tracked into the mid-range Agent branch. Zone Three is our next target, and I am counting on you to lay the foundation for us. Do you understand?”

Lucas nodded, but he knew it was slow. Too slow. His grandfather’s eyes narrowed, prompting a verbal response.

“I do. But I—are you certain I’m the one to do this?” Panic fluttered in his chest. He couldn’t leave. All the way to Zone Three, across the Rocky Mountains and south, deep in the high desert? That was even further than Zone Six had been. It was a month of travel by caravan. What about Meredith? Lucas grasped at the first logical argument he could. “Couldn’t Jacob go? He’s been trained for this sort of thing.”

It was a mistake.

“Fool.” Grandfather spat at him. “Only Sparks are permitted to be Agents. You were created for this. You will not disappoint me.” Grandfather took a deep, calming breath, and his snarling lips trembled back into their usual ascetic expression. He leaned forward, his eyes steady on Lucas’s. “You are the only Spark born to our family. The only Spark I would trust with my fortune, with my future, with my life. Or is that a mistake?”

Lucas’s head shook quickly now. He had no idea he was so important to his grandfather. “No, sir,” he whispered, “it’s not a mistake.”

Grandfather settled back again. He turned his gaze to a report before him. Lucas was too tall and too far back from the desk to read the scrawled words upside down.

“I believe you, grandson. But this mission is too important for you to go without demonstration of your devotion. Are you ready to prove yourself?”

“Yes, sir.”

“As devoted as your brother Jacob?”

“Of course, Grandfather.”

Jacob shifted restlessly beside Lucas, but Lucas couldn’t turn his gaze from his grandfather now. He was going to give Lucas a trusted mission, meant only for him, one only he could achieve. Lucas struggled to reign in his quickening breath.

Once I’ve proved myself, I can ask to marry Meredith. Maybe Grandfather will send her with me? Or she can join me later.

“Edgar has betrayed me.” Grandfather tilted his head as he looked at Lucas and paused.

His most trusted aide, Meredith’s father, was a traitor?

“But I find that I still have use of his particular skills, so I cannot rid myself of him. Not yet. Still, he must be punished. His oldest daughter must die.”

Lucas’s breath caught, strangled by his closing throat.

His oldest—Meredith?

“Kill her, Lucas. Your early training is complete. It is time for me to take up the weapon that has been provided and strike out at evil. It is time for you to earn your place at my side, by smiting sinners. Do you understand, Lucas?”

Lucas’s head swam. He clenched the muscles in his back and around his knees, determined to keep his feet under him. Kill Meredith? Killing her would somehow show he was worthy of the holy mission for which he’d been born?

“Yes. Exactly.” It wasn’t until Grandfather beamed at him that he realized he’d spoken the words aloud. “Edgar has sinned against us, consorting with Sparks. Conspiring. He is a trusted member of my team, Lucas, and I cannot lose his skills. But he must be brought up short. He must know the cost of righteousness and bear it. Kill his daughter. And then I’ll know you’re ready to begin your work.”

Lucas was still. When he’d been summoned, he’d decided to take the opportunity to ask Grandfather for permission to marry Meredith. That wasn’t happening now. It wasn’t ever happening!

I am a flaming sword of righteousness. He said it. It’s truth.

Lucas waited for the wave of despair that he expected to swamp him. He couldn’t be this calm. He should be reeling. Hysterical.

I am a flaming sword of righteousness. I am meant to cut down sinners.

How could he—?

He couldn’t. Perhaps that was why he felt nothing? He had nothing to fear. He had no intention of doing as he’d been told. Grandfather expected him to kill Meredith?

Never.

Grandfather clearly took his silence as confirmation. He dismissed Lucas, holding up his cheek so Lucas could skirt the desk between them, bend down, and offer his grandfather a kiss. As Lucas started to withdraw after pressing his lips to the thin, delicate skin, Grandfather whispered to him, “Do it quickly, Lucas. I’ve waited so long for you to come back to me. I’m eager to get started.”

Lucas nodded, his heart steady inside his chest. “Yes, Grandfather.”

As Lucas backed away, Jacob leaned in to take Lucas’s place and offer farewell respect, but Grandfather turned from him.

“We are not finished, Jacob. Stay. We must talk.”

Lucas stepped backward again, pulled the door open, and backed out, closing it again behind him.

Am I a tool? A weapon?

Lucas turned his body, his gaze sliding over a pair of the vicious, fanatically-devoted teenagers his Grandfather used as guards. He had no reason to fear them.

Or did he?

Lucas shivered and glanced over his shoulder at the young men behind him now. If he failed to do as he’d been told, would he be given over to the Youth Guard? They lived together like a pack, in a separate barracks. They attacked with the feral ferocity of a pack, as well.

Leaving Grandfather’s administrative suite behind, he entered the halls of the main Council building and had to weave between the plainly dressed people making their way to appointments. The thought of their ordinary errands juxtaposed against the horror grandfather had just asked of him made him wish nothing more than to flee.

I’ll go get Meredith. We’ll get away.

But instead of taking him from the building, his feet carried him to the little chapel tucked into a corner. It was dark inside the windowless room.

Lucas’s foster family had been almost as devout as Grandfather. They’d taken him to services, and when they traveled, they made certain to find a shrine or church for holy days. This room had little in common with those places. In other zones, churches were places of light and fellowship. Here, Grandfather decreed that their prayer spaces should reflect the state of the times they lived in. The room was dark, the ceiling low and oppressive. The only light filtered in from the hall behind him. Only a minimal amount leaked from the censer on the low altar ahead.

Lucas hovered in the doorway, momentarily confused. Why had he come?

Murder
.

He blinked back the sudden flow of tears. The last thing he needed was anyone witnessing and reporting his weakness to Grandfather. He took a long, ragged breath and started forward, stopping only when he was in front of the altar. Lucas took up one of the long, skinny splinters of wood and fed it through a gap in the censer to light it. His shaking hand lit a beeswax candle before shaking the flame from the splinter.

The little flame burned tall and steady.

The way I’m meant to stand with my burdens.
Lucas swallowed and glanced around, self-conscious. He’d never been good at prayer. He bowed his head.

I try. You know I try. Believing is hard for me. I’m not like Grandfather. But if there’s a purpose for me, I have to see it. I have to know it. Show me. Please. Show me the path. I know Grandfather is worthy. I know he’s chosen. But I—I’m just me. If you don’t
show
me, I cannot do this. I can’t.

A vision of Meredith swam into his mind’s eye. How could this be expected of him? Lucas thought about that for a moment. He was a Spark, by definition soiled. If he’d been chosen to bear that burden, what was to say he wasn’t expected to bear more, so that others wouldn’t have to? As soon as he acknowledged the thought, he felt sick. He couldn’t seriously entertain doing what he’d been asked. He couldn’t.

I need something clear. Something real.
Shame combined with his nausea. His cheeks flamed.
Show me what to believe. Show me what is true.

He waited. Nothing happened. He wasn’t gifted with a vision like his grandfather had been. He didn’t experience sudden clarity. He was just as lost as he’d been when he walked in. His head dropped in disappointment, Lucas turned away from the altar and left.

He walked aimlessly. He hadn’t been asking for proof of existence or anything like that. He’d only wanted a sign to hold to, something to fuel him. Something to show him that the path Grandfather set before him wasn’t as wrong as it felt, curdled in his belly.