The morning starts early and with a lot of disorder all around. Everyone is on edge and trying to figure out how to be useful. I try to call my parents, but the motel’s phone won’t allow me to make a collect call out of the country. If I could speak to them, I’d tell them I love them, that I’m happy—and a little scared—and that I’m traveling the road before me to see where it leads . . . just as they recommended.

  We leave the motel as soon as the Shadow Demons are gone and run through the forest to the delivery location. Tents need to be set up, floodlights erected, and generators assembled. As more and more people arrive, the small tent city grows in proportion around the edges of the clearing, escalating the level of my nervousness to near suffocation.

  Each clan has anywhere from fifty to a hundred representatives present. Clara tells me about the Death Clan’s demands to have a specific amount of “ambassadors” in attendance in order to free the hostages. I already know this information, but I figure the Death Clan is only trying to best match what their Seers foretold. They are struggling to make sure every aspect is in place to allow their proper transformation into immortals . . . or so they think.

  I’m not any different than them. I’ve struggled to make sure I have found the proper formula to ensure success.

  I stare at the stone table in the center of it all. My heart beats mercilessly in my chest with the knowledge these are my final hours of life. I look at the place where I’m doomed to die. While wallowing in my thoughts, the Sanguine Diamond warms up against my body, almost as if it’s trying to comfort me.

  Like an eerie dream, the crowded clearing becomes completely silent as the Death Clan arrives in three large military-type trucks. The rutted logging road causes the vehicles to bounce and sway as they turn off and park near the clan’s designated tent. I can only imagine what it must be like to ride in the back of the cavernous vehicles and be tossed around.

  The twenty or so Death Clan members unload from the trucks first. White robes shroud their bodies; the small amount of their exposed alabaster skin seems to glow. They are the embodiment of pure evil, and even the insects and birds of the forest seem to freeze in fear. Several of the robed figures look directly at me, causing my skin to prickle.

  The hostages spill out of the back of one of the trucks and are escorted to the tent. I read their collective minds and find their spirits succumbing to the expected dismal end. They all believe death is imminent. Once the Death Clan and their captives have disappeared inside their tent, the commotion picks back up in the clearing as everyone resumes their tasks. I sit down on the matted grass and contemplate my decision to keep the diamond. My bodyguards remain nearby. Have I exhausted all the avenues? Is there no other way to end this?

  I don’t know how long I’ve stared at the stone table imagining myself lying upon it, waiting to die before Clara brings me back to reality. “Calli, come inside,” she says. “You’re too exposed out here.”

  Everyone inside our tent stops what they are doing and falls silent when we enter. My eyes search the large crowd of Runners, spotting the members of the delivery team, realizing once again we are minus two. I don’t recognize a lot of the faces in the crowd. I didn’t have much time at the compound to learn any names before being launched out into the world of powers.

  Clara addresses everyone. “The meeting is scheduled for this afternoon at three o’clock. Give Chris, Justin, and Calli their space until then.”

  We are ushered inside a curtained-off private cubicle within the tent. I can tell right away the cubicle must have some kind of enchantment surrounding it because the noise of the Runners outside is muted when the curtains close. Three folding chairs are positioned in a triangular arrangement in the center of the small room, and I sit down on one of them. The two guys sit as well. I have to stop and think of when the last time was that the three of us were together like this: it was in Harold Bates’s office. Our journey here with our accompanying entourage and the practice of dividing us up among the motel rooms has made it so the three of us were never alone.

  So much has changed since the beginning of the journey. I climbed the rank ladder having begun at the level of muck and ending up as the most important member of the clan. Justin’s traitorous nature surfaced, along with his insatiable desire for complete and utter power. Chris, who appeared like he had everything together when we began our journey, now looks to be falling apart at the seams. The two of them watched as every ability and power surfaced in me. Chris is intrigued, yet guarded, while Justin is intimidated and jealous. I don’t feel a need to probe their minds at this point. Instead, I relax into the chair and accept the reality that the last few hours of my life will be spent in the presence of one boy who inexplicably loves me, and one who hates me. The two opposites create an odd sort of balance to the situation.

  Chris pulls the box out of his pocket and opens the lid. He examines the beauty of the diamond. He looks closely at the fake stone, angling the box in the light to examine the many facets. He comments reflectively, “The word ‘Sanguine’ is an adjective meaning ‘positive, hopeful, and optimistic.’ It’s a word representing the intended outcome of this meeting. This diamond is meant to obtain the release of the prisoners and to render the Death Clan powerless, securing an optimistic future for all of us.”

  Justin glares at Chris, a disgusted expression on his face. Then, true to form, he says, “Thanks for sharing, Chris. Like we didn’t know that already. But, don’t forget ‘sanguine’ originally meant ‘bloody,’ as in ‘nourished by powerful blood.’ So, in this particular context it could just as well refer to an eagerness for bloodshed and violence. Bet you didn’t know that, Chris.” Justin’s smug gaze shifts to me. “What will happen at the meeting, Calli?”

  “Success. The outcome will be good for all the clans.”

  “Don’t you see details?” Justin presses.

  Chris comes to my defense, or so he thinks. “Of course she does, Justin.”

  I keep my voice steady. “Sometimes those are better left unknown.”

  “Will anything bad happen?” Justin asks.

  My eyes meet Chris’s. “Nothing that nature doesn’t intend.”

  I turn my body away from Justin to signal I’m done with this conversation, but he grabs my shoulders to try to force me to turn around and face him. His fingers grip me firmly, causing pain. I realize this physical contact creates a link into his mind I couldn’t access any other way. His past and present open to me, bombarding me with images I’d rather not have in my head. His future flows in, along with the dark, foreboding intentions of his heart. I already understood this about him, but not in as much detail. I now see he will lead a group of people on a quest for ultimate domination and will not be above kidnapping and murdering in order to gain power. With the Death Clan wiped out, Justin will rise to the top and become the next evil force to be reckoned with.

  I pull out of his mind, crashing onto the ground. Justin’s hands are still on my shoulders and Chris is trying to separate the two of us—but, so is Justin. His hands are stuck to my body. My mind holds his hands on me. I mentally let go, and his arms fly back. He scoots away, terrified.

  Chris stands over me. He doesn’t appear to want to touch me, so I get up on my own power. He moves back and we both sit down in the chairs facing each other . . . once again.

  Justin whispers in a raspy voice, “What was that? My hands were glued to you!”

  Chris’s eyes project the same question.

  How do you answer a question to which you have no idea what the answer is? Instead of admitting my own confusion, I choose to issue an empty warning to Justin.

  “Physical contact with the intent of harm is no good on me. Don’t touch me again.”

  “I won’t! After this meeting, I’m going to petition your removal. You’re becoming too dangerous to remain in the clan.”

  “Oh no you’re not, Justin!” Chris jumps in.

  “She’s evil, Chris! She’s probably a witch or something. We ca
n’t keep her around.”

  “She saved your life.”

  “She had to!”

  I stare at the two of them as they fight back and forth, then I interrupt, “You won’t need to forcefully remove me from your clan. I’ll leave on my own. I’ve had enough of this life and this world of powers, and I don’t want to stay. Besides, I suspect my abilities will be gone once the diamond is out of my presence.”

  “Why?” they both say in unison.

  “I didn’t get my additional powers until I was around the diamond.”

  “Why didn’t we get any other powers then?” Justin sounds as if he doesn’t believe me.

  I shrug my shoulders.

  Chris opens his mind so I can sense his thoughts. Please don’t leave the clan, Calli.

  “I may not have a choice,” I say to Chris, which angers Justin when he becomes aware we’re having our own semi-private conversation.

  “Oh, so now you two are carrying on a conversation without me?”

  What do you mean? Chris asks, ignoring Justin.

  I repeat my answer. “I may not have a choice.”

  Clara enters the cubicle, interrupting our conversation. “Calli, you have visitors.” Two older men follow her into our already cramped area. “This is Arthur Stiles and Curtis Shultz from the Seers Clan. They would like to talk to you.” She motions to Chris and Justin and asks me, “Do you want these two to step out while you talk to the Seers?”

  Before I can answer, Justin jumps forward. “I’m not going anywhere. I insist on being present for all meetings with Calli.”

  I want to say, why, so you can spy? But Chris speaks first. “I think the trio should stay together, being that we’re so close to the delivery time.”

  The older man, who Clara called Arthur Stiles, nods and says, “Yes, they should stay. Calli we represent the Seers. We would like to ask you some questions about your multiple abilities.”

  I glare at Justin. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know what I can do?”

  He only shrugs his shoulders.

  “We’re wondering why we can’t view your future.” Arthur angles his head and narrows his eyes.

  “I can’t see yours either,” I respond before Chris has enough time to surmise I have no future, just like Jonas.

  “You can’t see our future because we’re blocking you,” Arthur replies.

  “Runners and Mind-Readers try to block me, but I can still observe their futures,” I challenge.

  “Seers are different,” Arthur says, raising his chin in superiority.

  “Well, then you’ve just answered your own question,” I say, feeling confident.

  “Perhaps.”

  Curtis Shultz speaks up, “We never saw this clearing as the meeting place. Why and how did you change the location?”

  “I recognized the clearing when we came upon it because of a series of visions I had. Then the plans were put into motion to relocate the exchange here.”

  “Yes, but we never envisioned this location.”

  My thoughts revisit my earlier questions about Seers. The men in front of me evidently had not seen the same future as The Death Clan’s Seers. The Runners’ Seer only saw a mysterious fog concerning the future of the clan. The results are all over the board with little similarity. All I can figure is the Seers got the butt-end of the cosmic superpowers. I certainly hope my use of the Seer power works out as planned. I ask Curtis, “Well, what do you envision now for the future after the delivery?”

  “It’s too near, and anything beyond is foggy.”

  I say, “Will you unblock your mind and let me try to read the future?” Not that I need them to remove their mind-blocks. I ask them to do so to avoid appearing exceptionally abnormal—again.

  They hesitate, but Curtis reluctantly agrees. His walls come down, and I clearly envision him addressing a large group of some kind, discussing the happenings at the clearing and the destruction of the Death Clan. I pull out of his mind and say, “Your future involves teaching others about the fall of the Death Clan.”

  “So, they will fall?” Curtis asks.

  “Yes.”

  Justin lets out a grunt and folds his arms across his chest. I assume he doesn’t believe me. I hope that’s the case, otherwise he might pass along the foreseen outcome of the gathering as he has apparently passed everything else along.

  Arthur says, “Why can’t we visualize that?”

  Justin speaks out of turn. “This girl is surrounded with mystery. She can’t be trusted.”

  “Shut up, Justin,” Chris commands.

  I ask the Seers, ignoring Justin, “Can a Seer learn how to have visions closer than four weeks?”

  “What are you talking about?” Arthur asks.

  “Is it possible to have visions of the near future, of things that will happen within days or hours, or maybe a week ahead?”

  “No,” Arthur replies. “Seers foresee changes in the far future, not the immediate or near future.”

  I’m curious about this process. I have to know how my visionary abilities differ from theirs. I think carefully and ask, “When you look for someone’s future, what do you usually see?”

  “It depends.” Curtis answers this time. “We often see what a person’s general emotional state will be—their happiness or sadness or fear or anxiety—but we can also see the consequences of their actions and major changes in their life on a grand scale.”

  “Yes, basically general things related to the individual,” Arthur adds.

  I ask, “Can someone train their mind to identify details about an individual’s future?”

  “In theory, perhaps,” Arthur replies, “but no one’s done so to my knowledge. Our visions are big-picture, not fine-grained.”

  Chris’s expression falls as if all the wind has been let out of his sails. “That can’t be true,” he says. His eyes meet mine and I effortlessly slip inside his mind to find he’s confused about the detailed, fine-grained vision he saw of me.

  “She can,” Justin says, causing me to pull my mind out of Chris’s.

  “She can, what?” Curtis asks.

  “She can view somebody’s future in great detail, and she sees things that will happen very soon, just days out, not weeks.”

  All eyes are on me again. I look at Justin and wish I had the bat Clara had talked about.

  “If you do possess that ability, Calli, tell us what will happen today at the meeting,” Curtis demands.

  “I already did. I told you it goes well.”

  Justin rolls his eyes and inhales sharply through his nose. “More detail please,” he insists.

  “It goes very well,” I answer, leaning back in my seat.

  Justin throws his hands in the air. “See what I mean?”

  “Will the Death Clan be stopped?” Arthur asks.

  “I already told you they will be.”

  “Will anyone die?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not going to answer that. Telling you might change the future. Right now all you need to know is our main goal will be accomplished. The Death Clan’s rise to ultimate power will be stopped. For good.”

  Arthur nods. “It’s logical you don’t want those who have mere hours to live to panic, but please help us understand how you’re able to view the immediate future. Why should we believe you?”

  My patience wanes, and the tension in my voice grows. “I don’t know why, all right? I don’t know!”

  Chris stands and steps between me and the Seers. “Leave her alone. She can’t answer any more of your questions.”

  The men look at each other, then walk out of the cubicle.

  Chris turns around and sits down in front of me.

  I meet his gaze and say, “Thank you.”

  “The burden on your shoulders is too much.” He looks deep into my eyes. I sense his overwhelming compassion for my situation and it melts my heart. He continues. “I don’t know how you’re holding up under so much pr
essure. I wish I could do something to help.”

  I nod my head. “Well, the delivery will take place soon, and everything will be over.”

  Chris scrunches his eyebrows together. I figure he’s trying to decipher my comment.

  Justin states with his usual overconfidence, “You’re wrong. The Death Clan won’t be stopped.”

 
Lorena Angell's Novels