The Violet Awakening (The Elementum Trinity Book 2) (14 page)

“Stop that… Stop!” Cora shouted, finally resolving to put out the fire that had begun to spread across the grass at a concerning rate.

“Sorry,” Lakin said, looking down at his feet.

“No,” Reagan said calmingly. “Don’t be sorry. You’re… you’re getting better.”

“No he isn’t. He’s terrible,” Gabe said truthfully, resulting in a slap on the shoulder from his bond.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Bryant said wearily.

“There isn’t time for a—” Cora began with frustration, but her eyes gazed past us.

Turning to follow her line of vision, I saw Lily staring from across the Eden. She nodded, before disappearing into her house.

“Fine,” Cora grumbled. “Fifteen-minute break.”

“Sandwiches a
nd salads back at our place, if anyone’s hungry,” Reagan said, forcing a sweet smile even through Cora’s glares.

It was perfect timing for a break. Reagan’s support wasn’t enough to counteract the extreme pressure Cora had been putting on us, and while we all understood that everyone was concerned about how much time we had, the stress only made it more difficult to focus. Creating a
steady stream of fire from your palm in a populated area was stressful enough, without having to worry about whether or not you’d need to burn a bad-guy’s face off by the end of the day.

Jackie had spent the majority of the day observing us with silent feline judgment as we caught things on fire, froze things, blew things over, and, in one instance, accidentally caused a massive crater in the middle of the field. I’d mostly just been helping to guide the others, but Lyla was already surprisingly adept at using her abilities. We’d all known that she hadn’t totally refrained from using them in the outside world, but I’d
had no idea just how much she’d practiced. Bryant and Joseph had caught on fairly quickly, and they were at least good enough to hit a target with one element or another, if necessary. Lakin, however, seemed to be having a significant amount of trouble adjusting. He lacked the confidence in himself. Once he’d started manipulating an element, he would begin to overthink it, and inevitably lose control. Judging by the glowing gem on his chest, I was sure that it was partially due to our powers being abnormally stronger than they had ever been before. Even I was having some issues—let’s just say that the name of the person who was responsible for the crater rhymed with ‘Shmangela’.

Deciding to take some time away from the others, Lakin and I walked along the far edge of the Eden, where the pond curved over us to meet the ground; a straight line divided the vibrant grass from the muddy, fishiness on the other side. I dragged my fingertips along the water as we walked, still amazed that such a thing could ever be possible in the world. Lakin kept his eyes fixed firmly upon his feet, disheartened by the lack of progress that
Reagan had falsely assured he was making.

“Hey,” I said, taking his hand in mine as we walked, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not, though,” he said quietly.

“Sure it is. You’re totally new at this. You can’t expect to be a pro, right off the bat.”

“But…” His forehead wrinkled in frustration as he brushed his hair back out of his eyes.

“But what?”

“I won’t be able to protect you.” The guilt in Lakin’s eyes stabbed at my gut as he stared through into my soul.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. Part of me felt a deep sadness, but part of me wanted to go all feminist on him, and slap him in the face for thinking I needed to a man to take care of me.

“Of course it is. I’ve never been good at anything. This is the one thing I should be able to do, and I can’t.”

“That’s your adoptive father talking,” I said. “You’re good at a lot of things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, eyebrows lowered, as if he were challenging me to come up with an answer that was even remotely believable.

I stumbled over my words. The truth was, Lakin was incredibly average. He had spent most of his time working, and planning ways to get out on his own. He hadn’t excelled in school, he didn’t play sports, he wasn’t exceptionally funny, or witty, or smart… but he was kind. He cared about people, other than himself. He wanted everyone to be happy. And he persevered through unfortunate circumstances. He wasn’t one to simply give up.

“Surviving,” I said, “and being one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever known.”

“You haven’t known very many people,” he said, eyes gleaming as his face twisted into a child-like grin.

“That’s true. But you are way cooler than ninety-nine percent of anyone I
have
known.”

“Who’s the other one percent?”

“Jackie,” I said immediately, trying to keep a straight face, but breaking down into laughter with Lakin.

I had never really thought about him, as a person, before. I mean,
really
thought about him. I’d never needed to. I knew that we were meant to be together, but would I have cared so strongly for him if we had just happened to have met, one day? If we hadn’t spent every night in each other’s dreams. If we had been neighbors, or if we had gone to the same school? If we’d been normal? But it didn’t matter. We hadn’t been neighbors. We hadn’t gone to the same school. We were not normal, and we never would be. We were us, and that was all I needed. I forced the thoughts out of my mind.

Sensing that Lakin was about to retreat back into his pit of self-loathing, I retrieved a hand-full of clear, liquid blob from the pond-wall at our side. With a trace of blue light extending from my fingertips, the water danced above my palm in shapes that vaguely resembled a boy and girl moving toward each other. Thin strea
ms of water circled around them as I did my best to stage an aquatic rendition of our bonding. Lakin gazed upon the sight with wonder and nostalgia, and, to my dismay, a hint of jealousy. With my free hand, I reached for one of his, and placed it just above the watery-ballet. He shook his head, trying to pull away.

“Don’t worry about failing,” I said. “Don’t worry about having to be anything, other than what you are. Just want for it to happen, simply because you want for it to happen.”

I didn’t step back until I was absolutely certain that Lakin was holding his hand over the scene out of his own free will. Light emerged from his own fingertips, mingling with the water, and pushing the figures around in a circle. As I stepped away, the shapes drooped a bit, but quickly corrected themselves. Happiness and pride beamed across his face when he finally realized that he was in total control of the water that was swaying gracefully beneath his hand.

A flicker in the corner of my eye distracted me from Lakin’s triumph. At first, I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me; the product of an over-worked mind demanding some lazy-time. Then, I thought I was having a stroke. My vision went blurry as I stared at the wall of water behind us. But no, the water was vibrating. Ripples all along the walls of the Eden distorted the view of the pond-creatures surrounding us.

The aquatic couple in Lakin’s hand fell to their death, reduced to nothing more than a puddle under our feet. Together, we stared at the quaking water with curiosity, before a short, rumbling burst erupted from beneath us. It was weak, barely strong enough to feel, but we had both noticed it.

“We should
find Lily and the others,” Lakin said, taking my hand.

I followed with minimal reluctance, glancing back occasionally at the odd sight behind us. I was suddenly very aware of the cold, damp grass beneath my bare feet. Why was I never wearing shoes when weird things happened?

We passed as calmly as possible through the Eden. Most had not noticed that anything was off, until the young, copper-haired Amelia, with a dandelion tucked behind her ear, said, “Momma, what’s wrong with the water?”

We picked up speed, as the vibrations grew stronger and the ripples became more noticeable, but before we could make it to Lily’s house, they stopped with unnerving swiftness. All around us, bodies emerged from their homes, staring upward in curiosity.

Streaks of vivid purple forced their way across the water, creating violet reflections on the faces of onlookers. Slowly, more and more streaks filled our sky, until the water glowed a brilliant purple. It was eerily beautiful… and beautifully terrifying.

“What is this?” I asked in a whisper, barely able to find my voice.

It was too quiet. The only sounds came from the lungs of those near us. It was as if our moment had been paused in time, as we all stood completely still, watching the magnificence above.

“This is it,” Lily said from behind me, breaking the quiet as she realized what was happening.

At the far end of the Eden, where our parents’ houses sat like vacant shadows, a startlingly painful sound rushed toward us. I could only relate it to the white noise of a television, but it was different—malicious. A few of us started toward the noise, but quickly stopped in our tracks, squinting at the new sight. There appeared to be a dense fog rushing toward us. As my brain pieced it together, my body went weak with dread.

“Everyone to the tunnel! Now!” many ethereal voices shouted in sync with Lily.

Screams echoed throughout the once peaceful Eden, as Elementums hurried their way to escape. Parents protectively swaddled their children, while others desperately called out for their bonds.

I couldn’t move. My feet felt as though they had become encased in lead. I was only slightly aware of Lakin pulling at my arm, yelling for me to run. All I could do was stare at the water rushing closer, threatening to engulf the houses of my generation's parents; the houses we had slept in just the night before.

Then there was silence. Unbreakable, enveloping silence.

The sounds of screams and collapsing water surely continued all around me, but I couldn’t hear them. A pain pierced my skull, stronger than I would have ever thought my body could tolerate, as beams of white light emitted from my eyes, encircling me in brightness. Suddenly, the pain stopped and my body no longer felt like my own, as though I had become one with time and space and everything; a breathing vessel for the universe.

The circle of light grew rapidly around me, until I was the center of an orb almost as large as the Eden itself. Streams of blue poured from the fingertips of my free hand, intertwining with the white. I could feel myself drawing from Lakin's energy; a sense of unimaginable strength and urgency. The power grew even stronger, as Lyla, Joseph, and Bryant bravely stepped forward and instinctively joined us, locking hands, becoming one. Upon touching the churning, blue-and-white light, the viscous water immediately formed radiant crystals, freezing the entire pond within moments.

As the light faded, my body went limp with exhaustion. Barely able to hold my eyelids open, I assumed the arms I had fallen into belonged to Lakin. A new whiteness began to take over as I lost consciousness.

I awoke within the Energy Room, slumped over in my comfortable, blue chair. I felt so much stronger
than I had just moments before that the sudden change left me dizzy. I lifted my head, expecting to find Nadia staring at me with inquisitive worry.
‘Everything’s fine,’
I would assure her.
‘Nothing even remotely scary is happening,
’ I would promise.

But I was alone.

Nadia had not woken from her coma in years, not even for a brief moment. The infinite solitude was terrifying, and the concern I felt was overwhelming. Where was she? All that time she had spent alone in the Room… was this what it felt like? How had she not gone insane?
Had
she gone insane, and she was just exceptionally skilled at hiding it?

I rocked in my chair nervously, trying to force myself awake. My body must have been too weak in the physical world. I was stuck, alone, helpless and useless. I jumped from my seat, pacing nervously and gripping at my hair. I was trapped, unable to get to those who needed me, unable to get to those I needed.

I began running—running into the white nothingness.

I ran far beyond the distance any of us had ever journeyed in the Room. We’d never needed to travel far from our chairs. We’d never wanted to. And, as I continued running, I realized why
we’d never wanted to; the Room didn’t want us to.

An indistinguishable force tugged at my insides, urging me to turn back.
‘Turn around, Angela Dawson.
’ There was no voice, but I felt the words in my veins.
‘You do not belong here.
’  But I stayed my course. I ran until our chairs were only flecks in the distance behind me. I ran until they disappeared entirely. I ran until I ran into something.
Literally
.

My face smashed against a clear barrier. Not clear like glass, but clear to the point where it didn’t seem to exist
at all. Pushing myself to my feet, I placed my hands against the cool, invisible wall. It appeared to be exactly the same on the other side; pure, limitless, white nothing.

Resting my forehead against the barrier, I slid down to my knees. I hated crying, but that didn’t stop me from sobbing like a lost child in a department store. Hot tears ran rivers down my cheeks, leaving dark stains on my shirt. Where it felt like my screams should have echoed for miles, they were only muffled, as if the Room were denying my cry for help—for anything. I had defied it. It no longer had an obligation to protect me.

I wondered if whatever I had done in the Eden would be enough to save Lakin, to save everyone. I replayed the scene in my mind. The beautiful, purple streaks in the water; the same bolts that had emitted from the guns of the Destructive Ones, taking down so many of my kind in the vision Lily had shared with me. It must have disabled whatever was causing the water to protect us. They were far more advanced than I’d expected. I had frozen the lake, but how long would that keep William’s men out?

I dried my face on my sleeves, sniffling loudly as I continued to rest my forehead against the barrier. I had nearly sobbed my tear ducts dry by the time I noticed the shoes in front of me, on the other side of the wall. I fell over in shock, scooting myself backward. As my gaze lifted to the head of the being, my mouth dropped open in awe. I scrambled to my feet, never allowing my eyes to leave the face of the woman in front of me.

“Mom?” I choked, placing my palms on the barrier once again.

It was the same woman from all the memories I had recalled, not knowing if they were real. The woman from the picture in the hallway. Long, sunshine-colored locks fell around her face, elegantly framing her delicate features. Her eyes squinted as she smiled, positioning one of her hands against the wall to meet mine.

More tears fell from my burning eyes as I heard my mother speak for the first time in eighteen years.

“Angie. My beautiful Angie.” Her voice was a soft, warm coo.

We cried and smiled together, and I wanted nothing more than to break through the invisible wall between us. Was this my punishment for disobeying the Room? Was she even really there?

“No... No!” I shouted, as my hands became translucent against hers.

I was regaining consciousness in the real world. Although I knew the others needed me, I selfishly tried to stay behind, to stay with my mother, even if she wasn’t real.

“It’s okay,” she whispered calmly, giving me a reassuring nod as I faded. “We’ll see each other again.”

I gasped in huge breaths as I came-to. My heart was racing, and my limbs still felt heavy and weak. My eyes darted around the Eden, assessing the risk of danger. Everyone had stopped running and screaming, at least. They were all standing around me in a large circle, staring. To my utter surprise, I was not resting in Lakin’s arms, but in Sarah’s. My stomach twisted as her eyes gleamed purple, just for a moment, just long enough…

“You weren’t breathing,” Lakin said frantically, kneeling at my other side.

I smiled at his sweetness, as he and Sarah helped me to my feet.

“I am
, now.”

Lily examined me with a look of curiosity, and then looked to Sarah. Before long, her eyes were glowing their ghostly-white.

“The Oracles are unsilenced,” the ethereal voice resonated. “The Violets have awakened.”

I made myself small in Lakin’s arms at the sight of the other Oracles joining her in a disturbing, unsynchronized chant.

“The Violets have awakened. The Violets have awakened.”

Gasps and mutters flowed through the crowd in whispers, and they looked as nervous as I felt.

“Angie, what’s happening?” Bryant questioned, huddled in a little group with Lyla and Joseph.

“I don’t—” My words ceased as his hand touched my shoulder.

My mind was transported somewhere different and far away. Fluorescent lights beamed down at my face, and my throat was choked by tubes. Bodies buzzed around me, checking various types of monitors, and mumbling words of wonder.

‘Angie?’
a familiar voice whispered in my mind.
‘Angie, is that you? I can feel you… What is this? What’s happening?’

Somehow, through Bryant’s touch, I had connected with Nadia. I could feel her whereabouts, even across the distance. I could feel the presence of nearly all
of my kind. It was magnificent and alarming.

‘The Oracles are unsilenced, and the Violets have awakened,’
  I thought.

‘I don’t know what that means.’

‘Neither do I… but we’ll come get you. I promise.’

In a dizzying flash, I was back in the Eden, very aware of how many eyes were staring at me in silence.

“What the hell was that?” Lyla asked, gaping at my face as if it had morphed into that of a particularly peculiar platypus.

“What?” I questioned, grasping at my cheeks and lips to make sure that I, in fact, had not turned into
some sort of duck-weasel.

“Angie, your eyes went white. And your voice…” Lakin whispered, glancing around at the faces that were fixed on me.

“My voice… I said something?” It was an unsettling feeling, knowing that I was capable of doing and saying things I couldn’t remember doing or saying. I had to wonder, to what extent was I capable of forgetting my actions and words?

“You said, ‘Be wary of the Violets.’” Lily’s tone was calm and cool, as if it came as no surprise that I was spewing random word-vomit while my eyes lit up like a disco ball. “You don’t remember your vision?”

“She was talking to… Nadia?” Sarah said, wrinkling her forehead as she seemed to fight for mental clarity.

I was no longer the most interesting person in the Eden.

“Did you just… did you just read my mind?” I asked.

Sarah looked worried and guilty—the same look I had seen on the Violet’s face in New York.

“You touched her, Angie,” Lily said steadily. “She’s a Violet, now.”

“You said it happens gradually—”

“Something has changed. The moment your Oracle was unsilenced, and Nadia’s, the Violets were awakened… completely. We all felt it,” she said, the other Oracles in the crowd nodding alongside her. “Apparently, that will go for all new Violets, as well.”

“That’s good, right? You said they want to protect us. They can help—”

“Everyone, please return to your homes,” Lily called, as the other Oracles ushered bodies away from the gathering. “Patrick? Gather your generation.”

A boy I realized I hadn’t met nodded, and long brown hair flowed out behind him as he ran off to gather Mattie and the others from his age-group.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“We’re going to get Nadia,” she said, staring up at our frozen sky, as if it might come down on us in a million tiny daggers.

Lyla fidgeted nervously with Joseph’s hand, though she hid behind an angry face. Lakin wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his head on my shoulder. Bryant stood, awkward and alone, glancing around in a desperate attempt to find a distraction from the fear of what we would find outside the Eden. I was grateful to Sarah for placing a friendly hand on his back, and assuring him that everything would be all right. It was a lie, of course. But it was a soothing lie.

Fear is like a rope, laced with needles; it binds your insides together and suffocates them. And it causes the smallest of holes in your gut—so small, your body just barely makes up for the blood-loss. It feels like you’re losing a part of yourself… because you are. Sometimes, the wounds leak adrenaline or anger. Sometimes, helplessness. Sometimes, they only seep more fear. But fear, like most feelings, is much easier to handle when someone else feels it with you. The simple thought of knowing you are not alone can inject a shot of courage into your veins; loosen the rope just enough for you to breathe. There is something about empathy that makes terrible things slightly less terrible, something that runs much deeper than humanity, something that courses through all life—something universal.

Lily, too, felt the fear. The suffocating rope, the stabbing needles… but she felt it alone, and anger gushed from the wounds in her gut like crashing waves in a hurricane.