Radiant, page 23
We all burst into laughter. Brie continues to ask her questions, and everyone joins in. There’s something outrageously normal and wholesome about sitting down and exchanging favorites. I guess we never took the time to find out the simplest things about each other.
Night comes and with it pleasure of what we’ve accomplished.
“Miss Ava,” Elm gestures toward the porch swing, “come sit with me for a moment?”
I join him.
“Do you think Sammy’s group will be able to get it together enough for this to work?”
I swallow. “I’m not sure, honestly. There are a lot of negative feelings still. After what happened, it’s understandable.”
“They say that nothing brings people together like a common enemy.”
I purse my lips. “Selene is about as common as they come. If that’s not enough, what is?”
He stretches and places his hands behind his head. “Well,” he remarks to the deep indigo sky, “they could fight against us, for starters. Some kind of training exercise. If the stakes aren’t so high, they may be able to reconcile goals for a short time.”
I sit up. “It’s a good idea.”
“So, here’s how this game will go.” Elm stands in the upper loft of the barn early the next morning. Samantha’s team is looking on curiously. The others are elsewhere.
“You three will be against Miss Ava and me; however, the catch is, if you want to use magic, you can only use combined magic types.”
“Think of it like an aptitude test,” I say. “Or Zap Blaster. This is training.” I give Blake a wide grin. “Besides, if you don’t want to fight me, I know you really wouldn’t mind taking a few shots at Elm.”
“You’ve got me there.”
“Wonderful. I look forward to besting you.” Elm gives a dramatic bow.
Blake rolls his eyes. “So how are we determining who wins?”
Elm produces a large yellow handkerchief with a flourish. It floats to the top of the rafters and drapes across one of the wooden beams.
I applaud. “Nice Shaper work!”
Elm grins, accepting the compliment. He continues his instruction. “Your goal is to get that handkerchief. Our goal is to keep you from getting it.”
Blake squints up at the sun coming through the barn windows. “That doesn’t seem too hard.”
Samantha quirks her head to the side. “You obviously don’t know Elm.”
“One more thing,” Elm adds, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “Miss Ava and I may use whatever spells we like.”
“That’s not fair!” Brie objects.
“The goal is to teach you three to work together. And the Benefactors certainly won’t concern themselves with fairness.” Elm rubs his hands together. “Now then, are we ready?”
Blake, Brie, and Samantha all look a bit uncertain, but they nod and mumble their assent.
“Wonderful. We begin . . . now.”
“Blake, just float the handkerchief down,” Brie urges him.
I shake my head. “Only combined spells, remember.”
“Oh.”
The three stare for several moments at the handkerchief. They seem to be at a loss. I didn’t think it would be this hard for them to come up with something.
“Well, this isn’t proving difficult at all for Miss Ava and me.”
“Shut up,” Blake says.
“If you and Samantha could use Green magic,” Brie muses, “could you create something simple to get it down?”
Blake considers. “That’s not a bad idea. We need like a long claw or something. How about it, Samantha?”
“Okay. Let’s try.”
Green magic seems to involve a Mentalist thinking up an item as though creating it for an illusion, and the Shaper then bringing it into actual form. Whenever Elm and I have created something together, we took the time to talk through it to make sure we were on the same page. Samantha and Blake aren’t having any such discussion, but their faces are heavy with concentration.
At once, a plastic lobster with overly long claws materializes and falls to the straw-covered floor. We all stare at it for a moment until Elm bursts into laughter. Brie giggles.
“What is that?” Blake asks, aghast.
Samantha throws up her hands. “You said claws. I don’t know what you wanted.”
Brie makes a pinching motion with her hands. “He means a grabbing claw. I used to have one when I was little. It had a handle you squeezed to open it and a claw on the end to grab with.”
“Okay, let’s try again. Stop laughing, Elm.”
Elm clears his throat. “Sorry, Sammy.” But his grin is huge.
They make another attempt, and this time a functional grabbing tool materializes. My heart leaps. “Great job!” I clamp my hands over my mouth, remembering that I’m supposed to be working against them for this game. Blake gives an appreciative smile anyway.
Samantha frowns a little. “I think it’s too short.”
“I could modify it,” Blake says.
“No, you can’t,” Samantha reminds him. “Combined magic only.”
“Argh.”
“Can you make another?” asks Brie. “This one was good. Just do it again but bigger.”
Their second attempt is much better, and it looks as though it will do the job . . . which makes me feel bad for what I’m going to do next. Blake grabs the claw and runs beneath the handkerchief, reaching the claw upward. I sprint forward and grab the claw, snapping it in two.
“Aw, come on, Ava!”
“Sorry, Blake. Just doing my job.”
“Well, maybe we can make another one out of a stronger material. Should we try a metal one, Samantha?”
She doesn’t look happy about it, but she agrees. “Okay.”
But then Blake starts walking in circles around a bale of hay.
Brie looks on, confused. “Blake, what are you doing?”
“It’s Elm,” Samantha mutters.
“Oh.”
“He’s not going to be able to get out of that spell on his own.” She glances at Brie. “Orange magic?”
Brie looks alarmed. “Oh, no. I’m not okay trying that yet. I’m afraid we’ll hurt him.”
Blake continues around the hay bale, now in a sprint. He slips slightly on the slick straw on the ground.
“Elm,” I give a pleading look, “we shouldn’t force them to do anything dangerous. I know the Benefactors wouldn’t care, but still.”
“He’s coming out of it anyway,” Elm says. “Watch.”
Blake’s steps slow, and when he stops, he looks at Elm with annoyance.
“You’ve gotten much better at that, I must say,” Elm remarks approvingly.
I gape at Elm. Did he just compliment Blake? Blake, in spite of himself, looks pleased. Or at least, less perturbed.
“Can we try Purple magic?” Brie holds something in her hand. “I think if we could combine one of us with this . . . maybe that person could climb the rafters?”
I’m curious to see if they can achieve this. It would involve Blake and Brie, and I wonder if I should intervene so they do something that relies on Samantha, since that’s where the discord lies.
Blake and Samantha examine what Brie holds in her hand, and I lean in for a closer look as well. A hand rake?
Blake takes it from Brie and heaves it into one of the barn’s wooden support beams. “It’s worth a shot,” he agrees. “If my hands could have the properties of this rake, I probably could climb up the wall and to the rafters.”
They focus their magic together, and Blake’s hands turn metallic and silver. His fingers stretch thin and curl slightly at the ends. He attempts to flex his fingers, but they won’t move.
As I stare at Blake’s transformed hands, I can’t help but imagine them sticking that way forever, and the thought makes me uneasy. “You’re sure this is temporary, right?”
“Too late if it isn’t.” Blake shrugs. He jumps about a foot up and slaps his hands against the barn wall, giving it a test run. They hook in with no trouble, and he alternates hands to climb up the side. “It’s working!” It takes him some effort to get his hands loose from the wood so he can place them higher up, but he manages, even though he seems to be taking some of the wall with him. All the Shapers will have to help repair it later.
As Blake makes his way up, I consider how I might stop him. I don’t want to let them get the handkerchief this quickly, but I also don’t want to cause injury. Anything that might make him fall is out of the question. Maybe I should just suggest Elm move the handkerchief again.
As Blake gets closer to the handkerchief, I see the inevitable turning point where he’ll have to move from vertical to horizontal in his climb. Will his hook hands really be able to hold his weight while moving across those rafters? They don’t look very stable as it is. In fact . . .
“Blake, stop!” I call. “I think that wood is rotting.”
“I’m almost there. I’m fi—”
His words are cut off by a dreaded crack as his hooks come loose, taking a large chunk of wood with them. Brie and I scream as Blake plummets toward the ground, but then suddenly he’s flying. I refocus and realize his shirt is being tugged upward to slow his fall. Elm is in a strange daze and comes to as Blake lands safely on the ground.
But Elm has a shocked expression on his face. “Sammy?”
Samantha stands, almost gasping for air.
“Does someone want to explain what just happened?” Brie is looking wildly around. I’m wondering the same thing.
“I broke the rules,” Samantha confesses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do, so I took control of Elm and had him use his Shaper abilities on Blake’s shirt.”
I gape at her. “That was ingenious.” How did she think of that so quickly? And how was she able to take control of Elm like that?
“Elm, I’m so sorry. I just reacted.”
Elm holds up his hand. “Not to worry, Sammy. You did the right thing. And”—he quirks a smile—“it was a good reminder not to let my guard down. I wasn’t anticipating a Mentalist attack, so it was no trouble for you to control me.”
“But you still caught onto it.” I think of the moment he seemed to regain control.
“Yes, but it still shouldn’t have happened to begin with. Though in this case, my inattention was much to Blake’s benefit.”
Blake has dusted himself off and approaches Samantha. “Thanks. You could have just let me fall.”
She gives a small shrug. “Why would I want that? We’re a team.”
I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing. She is really trying. Maybe she’s becoming the Sammy Elm knew all those years ago.
“Well, thank you.” Blake looks at his hands, still silver and covered in bits of crumbling wood. “How do we make this go away?”
“Oh, sorry!” Brie exclaims. “I was so focused on keeping the spell intact so you wouldn’t fall.”
Blake’s hands look almost as though they are soaking up the metal as Brie releases her part of the spell. He brushes the bark away, his hands now back to normal.
Samantha gives Elm a tentative look. “Can we try again?”
“No,” I answer before Elm can. “I think that’s enough for today. Let’s not risk anyone else getting hurt. You keep practicing more, and we’ll do it again another day.”
Samantha looks disappointed. Elm was right, she really is trying to make this work.
We all head out of the barn, and Blake comes alongside Samantha.
“Thanks again,” he says, and the grateful smile he gives is genuine.
Maybe we can be a united front. There is more hope now, and it feels good.
33
Word of Samantha rescuing Blake spreads around our little group in no time, and it becomes a turning point. Everyone is much kinder to Samantha, and she appears more comfortable with us now.
“Who would have imagined putting Blake in peril was all we needed?” Elm muses. “I should have tried that much sooner.”
I make a face at him. “Someday, you’ll be forced to acknowledge that Blake isn’t such a bad guy.”
“Oh, I’m already aware. But he doesn’t have to know that.”
A thought crosses my mind. “If it came down to it, do you think you would be able to use combined magic with Blake?”
“Why would I need to? I can already use Blue and Yellow on my own.”
“You never know. If we’re expecting mutual cooperation from everyone else, we should be held to the same standard, right?”
“Hmm. I suppose so. Right as usual, Miss Ava.”
“So you’re going to be nicer to him?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
I sigh, although he has that mischievous twinkle in his eye. Elm may be stubborn about admitting it, but I do think he’s coming around to appreciating Blake . . . or at least tolerating him. He was genuinely impressed yesterday when Blake pulled out of his mind-control spell. I’m determined to get those two on civil terms, although getting Blake to truly align with Elm might be even more difficult. Oh well.
Brie calls out excitedly from where their team is practicing. “We made a shield! We used White magic!”
Brie’s excitement bubbles out of her. “Watch!” She looks to her teammates.
Samantha nods and says, “One, two, three!”
A flash of bright light, and the three of them are surrounded in a dome of White magic. They exchange triumphant smiles. Elm applauds.
“That’s fantastic!” Now that this team is working, we can move forward. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying. But if we’re ready, then there’s nothing left to do. Every day we wait is another day lost.
“Elm?” I hear Nikki say sharply as she peers out one of the windows in the loft.
Blanca joins her and utters something much coarser.
“What’s going on?” I begin, climbing the ladder to the loft to see for myself.
“Benefactors,” Blanca growls.
No. This can’t be happening.
Elm takes charge. “Invisible. Now.”
We all turn our devices on, and I look out the window. Sure enough, a group of five individuals in black Benefactor uniforms are striding to the house.
“What are they doing?” Brie speaks in a soft, shrill voice. “They’re not going to hurt my parents, are they?”
“I don’t think so.” I try to sound confident and reassuring, but the Benefactors usually don’t make house calls for any good reason.
One of the Benefactors raps sharply on the door, and it opens up a moment later to a surprised Skye.
“Can we come in?” the Benefactor asks. Though it’s clear that it’s not really a question.
I notice the barest flash of concern in Skye’s expression before she switches on a bright smile. “Well, of course! Can I get you anything? Fresh limeade? Tea?”
She ushers the Benefactors inside and the inability to hear or see anything is maddening. How are we supposed to know if they need help? I wouldn’t put anything past the Benefactors at this point.
“Everyone stay put.” I scramble down the loft and out the back door of the barn. Elm calls after me, but I don’t have a moment to waste. I slow my speed to a more careful pace once I’m in view of the house, taking care not to disturb anything that could tip the Benefactors off. I tread lightly up the front porch steps to peer into the kitchen window. Skye appears to be inviting the Benefactors to sit, but they decline. I can’t hear a thing.
At once, Skye looks at the window. She squints her eyes, and then a flash of surprise crosses her face. She can’t possibly see me, can she? Is my device not working? She says something to the Benefactors, and then she comes to the window. What is she doing? Have we been wrong to trust her? I brace myself to run and warn the others it’s time to retreat.
Skye looks me straight in the eye—she definitely sees me—and tips her head just slightly toward the Benefactors.
Listen, she mouths.
She cracks the window open just slightly. “There! That’s so much better. This room stuffs up so quickly I don’t want anyone uncomfortable.” It’s cold out here, and Skye has a fire in the hearth. Hopefully this won’t strike the Benefactors as odd. They stand around the kitchen table, looking stern-faced. However, they don’t show any indication that they’ve seen me. How can Skye?
“To what do I owe the pleasure of having Benefactors in my home?”
The Benefactor who appears to be the highest ranking of the group scans the room like a predator. “We’re checking in on all the parents of the students who were kidnapped. How are you holding up?” Her words sound kind, but her expression doesn’t match. She’s looking for signs of potential trouble. Signs of treason.
“We’re doing as well as could be expected. We lost both of our children. And who knows where they are now or what’s happening to them.”
“And they’ve made no contact with you at all?”
“I wish they had. Then we’d know they were still alive.”
“If you don’t mind, we’d like to have a look around.”
“Well, of course. But why? You don’t think my husband and I are in danger, do you?”
The Benefactor notices a crumb on the kitchen table and flicks it off carelessly. “It’s possible. We think Elm may have targeted the parents of another one of the kidnapped students.”
My heart stutters. Whose parents? What happened to them that would enable Benefactors to say Elm was responsible?
“Oh dear, who was it?” Skye echoes my thoughts. “We did know some of the parents from the school, but we haven’t been very social since the children disappeared.”
“They’re alright, for now.” The Benefactor walks over to the very window I’m staring into and looks vacantly outside, her hands clasped behind her back. I stand as still as I can. “As it happens, these parents are Benefactors. But they haven’t been fighting for the cause as enthusiastically lately, which leads us to suspect their minds have been tampered with.”
Benefactors. Blake’s parents? Is it possible that they’re coming around to the truth? The fact that they’re drawing suspicion has me worried. They’re probably not even aware that the Benefactors have noticed a change in their behavior.
