Protecting Truth Page 11

  “As further punishment, the Makers put Gibeon in motion, never allowing it to rest and move through time normally. So randomly, sometimes several times a day, the city moves violently as a reminder of their shortcomings and so that Normals would not find their location ever again.

  “Of course, this is mythology. There are many different stories of our beginnings. Some Wanderers believe and some do not. Since then, Wanderers have left the limits of Gibeon, and mingled with Normals quite seamlessly. In doing so, many Wanderers have accepted the ways, religions, and customs of the Normals.”

  “The city moving daily must lend some truth to the story,” Bishop remarks.

  “Yes, Mr. Bishop, I completely agree. There are many truths to learn from our mythology,” says Mr. Tash with a wide smile.

  “With your new wandering compasses from your oath package, you can travel to Gibeon. But please, when you finally make your pilgrimage, do not be shocked by the people visiting from various time periods. During my recent visit, I chatted with Jules Verne. Very exciting, indeed.”

  This comment launches a new peppering of questions. Several minutes pass before Mr. Tash returns to his lecture.

  “Now, please take out your wandering compasses,” Mr. Tash instructs.

  I have yet to open my oath package, so I drag myself closer to Bishop. From his vest pocket, he pulls out a clear glass orb with a compass suspended in the middle. It hangs from a looped leather band, one that can easily fit around his wrist. The leather is decorated, embossed with the markings of a Protector, a scorpion. When I lean in to admire the compass’ face, I notice that the name, Gibeon, sits in the place of a north marker. Several names of other wandering cities are marked around the edges. These must be the other cities of time.

  “I will teach you how to use these now.” Mr. Tash steps to the center of the room.

  Students stack pillows at the wall and stand in a circle surrounding Mr. Tash.

  “Pay close attention, class, to everything that I do. The compass can be used to travel back and forth from Gibeon. You cannot wander there normally because a life path cannot be connected with a location that moves, but you may wander normally from Gibeon, back home, if necessary.”

  Mr. Tash stands with one bare foot in front of the other. His hand, positioned at his hip, holds the leather strap loosely around his wrist, compass tucked into his cupped fingers. With a quick flick of his hand, a bronze chain unwinds from around the compass like a yoyo, dropping the orb toward the floor.

  “Keep the name Gibeon in your head as your keyword,” he reminds.

  Mr. Tash rocks forward and back, changing his weight from one foot to the other. Near the floor, the compass moves with him, swinging like a pendulum. He flicks his wrist again, quicker this time, and the compass rotates in a complete circle at the end of the chain. The orb whirls in wide rotations repeatedly, building speed and creating a whipping sound, which intensifies into a wild buzz.

  Mr. Tash’s body blurs, disconnecting with true time. And after a few seconds, he’s completely gone—vanished to Gibeon.

  We stare at each other in shock. For me, it’s the first time I’ve seen someone wander without the aid of falling or running—the world, for once, not crashing, catapulting them into a wormhole.

  Amazing.

  A blur reappears, accompanied by the buzzing whirl of the compass. Mr. Tash’s body solidifies. While lost in my astonishment, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

  ::17::

  Defense Arts

  I’m in the class I’d been dreading all summer, Defense Arts. Not because I don’t want to improve. Of course, I do, but I’m still not ready to reveal my improved abilities to Bishop. He’ll not only be hurt but he’ll easily figure out my plan—to go back and save my mom. That’s something I must do alone.

  After changing into workout uniforms, a small group of students meets in the Defense Arts gymnasium. The person I really wish wasn’t here stands nearby, peering at her reflection in the mirrored wall, primping.

  I look away from Perpetua, only to see another person I dislike.

  “Hello, Sera.” Stu strolls over with his lanky, awkward walk. “You’re looking as lovely as ever, if you don’t mind me saying so.” He grabs his pockets, adjusting his pants. I instantly feel dirty, standing near him. His personality oozes an off-putting, slimy confidence.

  “Actually, I mind,” says Bishop. He stands over us and crosses his arms, giving Stu a stern look.

  “Whoa.” Stu holds up his palms in defense. “Hey, man. Just came over to say hi.” He retreats with false remorse, then quickly regains his overconfident swagger.

  “Thanks for saving me.” I turn to Bishop.

  “That’s what I’m here for,” he says and smiles.

  “It just makes me angry to know that they’re back,” I complain. Bishop rubs the length of my arms. “Why would they do something like that? Does Terease really think they’re not a threat anymore?”

  “No, I doubt it. But in this case, the Society made a trade for something they need, info on Cece’s whereabouts.”

  “Have they even looked for her yet?” I’ve held out hope that I’ll hear about a raid on the Underground before it takes place. In my mind, I imagine sneaking out to join the raiding group—that, or eventually using the rosary to find my mom. Whichever comes first, it doesn’t matter. The result will be the same.

  “Not as far as I know, but I’ll keep my ears open. I know I’ll sleep better when they aren’t a threat to you anymore,” Bishop says. “But not that it matters, Sera, I’ll never let anyone like that near you again.” He slides his finger under my chin to raise my lips level with his. He gives me the smallest, sweetest kiss.

  “I guess,” I grumble, trying not to smile. His kisses disarm me. Even still, I really need to get the rosary necklace back from Turner. It would be nice to find my mom and never have to think about Cece and the Underground ever again. My next thought: contemplating how to sneak out of the apartment tonight, so I can square off with Hologram Turner. He will lose eventually.

  “We’ll start today’s class with warm-ups. Then we’ll practice one-on-one combat,” announces Ms. Swift as she walks into the middle of the room. “Now everyone go ahead and spread out.” She directs us with her arms until we stand at an acceptable distance from one another.

  She then drops to the floor, leading everyone through a prescribed stretching routine, advising us to do so before every class. She explains this will lengthen our muscles, warm them up, and help reduce injury.

  “Now, I want everyone to partner with someone not on your team,” Ms. Swift says. I look around awkwardly, wishing Macey were here. Instead, I find Scarlett, the Seer who sits with our group at lunch.

  With the help of Atticus Li, Ms. Swift demonstrates protecting yourself from an attacker who grabs you from behind. Atticus attacks Ms. Swift, throwing his arms around her neck. She twists, securing herself to his shoulder, then flips him over. He moans, lying on the floor in front of her. She hovers in a defensive crouched position. When she determines he’s down for good, she pops up with her hands on her hips.

  Together, she and Atticus show the class two additional defensive moves.

  “Now, try all three moves with your partner. Take turns playing the attacker,” Ms. Swift suggests.

  I turn to Scarlett, feeling a little guilty about fighting the pixie-like girl. She doesn’t seem a bit nervous as she dances into position behind me.

  “Ready?” she asks in a cheerful voice.

  “Go,” I say, quickly trying to decide how hard I should be. Go easy.

  I don’t even hear her running, but I know she’s coming. The hair on my arms stands on end. Something within me senses the danger. She jumps, grasping my back. Her arms and legs wrap around my body like a binding rope. Twisting my torso, I flip her. But when she doesn’t let go, I flop on top of her with a thud.

  She moans.

  I quickly jump up. “Are you okay?” I stretch out a
hand to help her stand.

  “You’re really strong. You almost yanked my arms out of the sockets.” She rubs her shoulders then rotates them like wings.

  I wince. “Sorry.” I thought I was being careful.

  We move on to the other moves. More gingerly this time, I dance around her, letting her win every time.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Ms. Swift pats my shoulder in between matches.

  “Yeah, why?” She looks at me as though she knows I can do better—much better.

  She turns to the class. “All right, let’s switch partners.”

  But this time, Ms. Swift rearranges the groups. Scarlett stands in front of Stu, and I, in front of Perpetua. Poor Scarlett; I cringe at her match-up. She looks over, pushes a blonde tress behind her ear, and gives me a worried smile.

  She probably feels sorry for me, too. My feelings for Perpetua aren’t exactly a secret. I look over at Perpetua. She paces the floor, glaring at me.

  Ms. Swift stands in the center of the room with her arms crossed over her gray jumpsuit. “All right, everyone. Try the routine again with your new partner.”

  Perpetua looks over and gives me one of her evil little smiles. Maybe I can pulverize her while no one’s watching.

  “I’ll attack first,” she says and settles into position.

  My eyes quickly sweep the room. Every student, including Bishop, is focused on his or her match. It can’t hurt, just this once. I wrangle a smile.

  The feeling of danger hits faster this time. Perpetua’s grip rips around my throat. As a Protector, her skills are far superior to Scarlett’s.

  To confuse her, I deviate from the lesson. I grab her arm and twist to face her. I lift my knee to her stomach but in a blurred streak, she twists out of my grasp. Kick. Knee. Punch. Turn. Sweep. Flip. The motions repeat with the force of an earthquake. We’re locked in an even match until I consider what her weakness might be. I position myself for the final attack; one I know will end this.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bishop stop to watch our match. And in that instant, I allow Perpetua to control the fight. After a few quick, painful movements, she victoriously stands over me, twisting my arm into submission and smashing my face into the mat with her foot.

  “Okay, class. That’s enough for today.” Ms. Swift blows her whistle.

  Perpetua gives my arm one last jerk for good measure, then thrusts it away. My numb limb falls lifelessly to the ground. She steps over my body and struts away, leaving with an air of superiority. Stu blows me a secret kiss before he and Jessica leave the classroom arm in arm.

  “Are you all right?” Bishop rushes to my rescue and lifts me.

  “If you didn’t aggravate Perpetua, maybe she’d leave you alone,” Sam lectures, standing with her arms crossed, shaking her head.

  I give her a dirty look. Does she really think that being nice to Perpetua will make a difference?

  “I saw the way you prodded her in Physics,” she continues.

  “I’m not the one who’s delusional, Sam. She thinks I stole some stupid crystal of hers.”

  “Ms. Swift, I think you should have stopped the match. You shouldn’t have paired Sera with Perpetua. Sera didn’t have a chance,” Bishop explains to Ms. Swift when she approaches.

  I lean my head into Bishop’s shoulder and cling to his waist. Having my butt kicked is worth the price of allowing Bishop to feel like he still needs to protect me.

  Ms. Swift only glances between Bishop and me with a quizzical expression. But when she doesn’t respond to his complaint, an anxious flutter surges through my body. I hope she won’t contradict him and explain why she thinks I can handle Perpetua. I’m sure Professor Raunnebaum has filled her in on my extracurricular activities.

  “Ah, Sera—why don’t you stay and chat for a moment?” Ms. Swift asks.

  “Will you be okay?” Bishop tilts my face up toward his and searches my eyes.

  “Of course,” I say, still acting fragile. Nervousness flutters through my body. I lift on my tiptoes and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the apartment.”

  Bishop and Sam leave, and I turn to Ms. Swift.

  “Sera, why don’t you tell me why you let Perpetua win?” She walks to the rack of weapons and selects a machete from the wall.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.

  “I think you do.” She strolls to the middle of the room, twirling the large knife. The blade flashes every time it catches the light.

  “There’s no reason I can think of for you to throw a fight.” The machete flips, whirling in the air. She catches the hilt and begins to pace.

  “Why would you think I could beat a Protector? I’m just a Wand—”

  Ms. Swift hurls the machete. It flies across the room, racing toward my face.

  ::18::

  Closing In

  Without realizing it, I lift my hands to stop the machete. When I comprehend what I’ve done, the blade sits an inch from my nose, its death trail halted between the palms of my hands. I caught it. I caught the freakin’ thing! My eyes bulge, and I release the knife from shock. It drops to the floor in front of my feet with a loud clank.

  “Are you out of your mind?” I scream. My heart races.

  Ms. Swift walks forward and nonchalantly snatches the blade from the floor and twirls it again.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I expect you to come to the next class ready to show me your full potential, Miss Parrish.” She tosses the machete into the air again. Her movements are so fast, it appears as though there are three knives instead of one. “Do I make myself clear?” She fixes me with a pointed stare.

  Trembling, I nod my head and dart for the door before she can test whether I can save myself from being split in half by a machete a second time.

  I run out of the training room, through the gymnasium, and into the pitch-black tunnel toward Olde Town. Is she out of her mind? How did she know that I could even catch that thing? I could have died! My stomach churns, remembering the shining blade and my horrified eyes reflecting back at me.

  Turner’s silhouette appears in the light at the end of the tunnel. “What’s wrong?” he asks, assessing my fearful face.

  I don’t answer, I just keep moving. When I race past him, he grabs my arm and spins me back to face him.

  “What’s going on, Sera?”

  “Nothing!” I yank my arm away and keep walking. He follows as I stomp across the courtyard. Students turn to watch. I look around at their curious faces, and then my eyes meet Bishop’s. He stands at the raptor entrance gate with a furious look on his face. His fists drop to his side, and he races forward.

  “What did you do to her?” he yells across the courtyard, pointing at Turner. His jaw clenches. Anger visibly pulses through his body, turning his face red with emotion.

  “He didn’t do anything, Bishop.” I rush to him, pushing my palms into his chest to hold him back.

  “What’s going on, then?” He looks at me and back at Turner. “I can see you’re upset. I sensed fear in your emotions all the way across the building.”

  “It’s nothing.” I look at Turner who stares at me with his arms crossed, his mouth forced into a line. Bishop struggles to get around me, but I push back even harder. Another fight between the two will only make things worse.

  “What do we have here?” Terease appears. She glides between us, sucking in the tension like perfumed-laced air as it swirls around her face.

  Bishop stiffens, drops his arms over my shoulder, and pulls me closer.

  “It’s nothing, Terease,” I offer in the calmest voice I can muster.

  “A misunderstanding,” Turner suggests casually.

  Terease flings her silky black bob around and faces Bishop. “Is this true, Bishop?” She crosses her arms.

  His body tightens into a statue. He stares at Turner with revulsion. “A misunderstanding,” Bishop finally repeats through grinding teeth.

  I relax when he says the w
ords, knowing there’s no reason for Terease to reprimand us.

  “Fine,” Terease relents, her red lips twist over the words. I can tell she hoped for a confrontation. For some reason, she enjoys the hostility between them. “I’ll be watching.” She shoots us a warning with her horrid obsidian eyes. We look away, not wanting to invite her into our minds.

  “Go!” she screams.

  The city, filled with students, has come to a complete halt to silently watch the turbulent exchange.

  Bishop and I turn to leave. When I glance back over my shoulder, Turner stands next to the obelisk with his arms crossed, staring at me.

  •

  I rush into the apartment, stomping toward my bedroom.

  “Hold on, Sera,” Bishop requests.

  “I already told you, Max, nothing happened!” I explode, using his first name because I know he hates it. He’s made me so angry, I can’t help it. The entire walk to the apartment consisted of Bishop attempting to coerce me into telling him that Turner did something to me. It’s as though he wants it to be true, a reason to hate his brother.

  Of course, my life would be made a million times easier if I could just tell Bishop the truth. Ms. Swift almost killed me with a machete. But she didn’t, because somehow, I saved myself. She knew I would. I’m a better fighter than you realize and possibly better than you. But that information will hurt him, and I can’t tell him yet. Can I tell him before Miss Swift’s next class on Friday? What will she do if I don’t practice to my full potential?

  “Sera, I’m sorry.” I turn to face him before I open my bedroom door. He walks across the room with his arms open. “I made a mistake. If you say that Turner had nothing to do with upsetting you, then I believe you.” He rubs the length of my arms and searches my eyes for an acceptance of his apology.

  “I promise,” I say. “He had nothing to do with anything.”

  “I believe you.” He leans in and wraps his long arms around my waist. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, I’ll be in my room.” He holds me at arm’s length. “Okay?”