Chasm, page 15
“I…I hit It,” I said.
“With what?” he asked.
“With…I don’t know,” I said, hating to admit the huge gap in the Institute’s—and my—knowledge. “Air, I guess.”
He made a “tsk” sound and shook his head slowly. “Not air.”
“Master Dogan thinks—”
“I don’t have the smallest care for what he thinks,” Alexander said, covering the distance between us and gripping me lightly by the shoulders. “Tell me what you know.”
I swallowed, the intensity of his gaze holding me fast.
“It was too…electric to be just air, it felt like…”
“Like?” he said, still not letting me go.
“Like what I felt in my dream.”
“But you said it wasn’t a dream. You know it wasn’t.” When I didn’t respond he continued. “You said you haven’t been able to do much with your power since then, true?”
I nodded. “Master—” I stopped myself from saying his name since it seemed to annoy Alexander. “He said it might be because my life wasn’t in danger, but then it was in danger and I still couldn’t... I never told him about the PTSD thing.”
“It wouldn’t have made much difference,” he said, understanding, forgiving my deception. “Without him knowing where your true power lies and how to access it, he wouldn’t have been much help.”
I was going to defend Master Dogan again—he really was a good teacher, when it dawned on me just what Alexander had said. “What do you mean, where?”
“The Chasm,” he said, his eyes flashing. “You are the rarest kind of Daemon, Ember. Even though you are only part Daemon you have the ability to be stronger than most full-blooded Daemons. Stronger even than me.”
If the admission pained him, he didn’t let it show. He looked downright thrilled.
“Why?” I asked when I’d regained my breath.
“Because while you have some measure of power all your own,” he said, “your true strength lies in being able to claim the power that has been lost to the rest of us for millennia. You are not yet strong enough to hold it, which is why it left you the second the Root was dead, and why touching the Chasm leads to you being pulled down where you’d prefer not to go. But with training, you will be more powerful than you or your Master Dogan could have ever dreamed.”
His excitement was contagious and I found my heart beating faster. “And you… you can train me to wield that kind of power?” The memory of that electric air, and what it now meant, flooded my being. “What about you? Can you acces—”
He silenced me with a shake of his head. “My talents lie elsewhere,” he said, without a trace of bitterness. “But yes, I can and will train you. Together there is nothing we can’t accomplish.”
“An end to the Gateways,” I said, once again breathless. “An end to the demon influence on the world?”
“For starters,” he said with a smile.
24
I had a million more questions, but when he asked which was more important, staying awake and asking them or getting some sleep so that I was able to continue training the following morning, the latter won out.
Of course once he’d taken his leave, I was too excited to actually sleep. Instead my mind spun with the possibilities of a new world—a world which suddenly seemed within reach. When morning finally arrived I bounded out of bed and was waiting for Alexander when he arrived at the table outside for breakfast.
“So,” he said, shortly after sitting. “I promised you that when the time came you could choose. If you decide to leave, I will let you, but if you do, I cannot ever allow you to contact me again lest your Institute make life difficult for me. If you stay, I will train you so that you are able to wield unimaginable power, and in exchange, you will help me gather Daemons and form a new kind of society. One dedicated to helping, not being separate from the world.”
My mind swirled with thoughts and emotions too fast for me to catch them. It wasn’t logical, it was completely from my gut when I answered.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly. “I will help you.”
Once the words had popped out of my mouth I cursed myself for not having added some conditions. But when I back-pedaled, Alexander was gracious as ever, agreeing to my terms.
I would be able to contact Taren and let him know I was alright, though I had to agree not to reveal anything about my location or what I was doing. Taren would be able to join us later when I’d had a chance to convince him that this was the best way—the only way—to ensure the safety of our world, but for now his request for discretion seemed valid.
Also, I would be able to make regular calls to my mother, again not revealing anything. Alexander also assured me that by the time my original trip was to be over, I could tell her the truth and she too, would join us.
Just thinking of Mom caused my heart to swell. The idea—the possible reality—that through my efforts she might be able to live untouched by mental illness was almost too much comprehend. It was what I’d longed for since I was a kid, and now, with Alexander’s help, I could make it happen.
Alexander might have disdained Utopia, but this sounded as close as I was likely to get: my loved ones safe (and sane) and myself working to my full potential toward the highest goal I could think of—severing the ties between our world and the demon dimension.
To my delight, we began right away, with Alexander explaining further about the Chasm.
“Close your eyes and breathe normally,” he said. “Not forcing the breath to be deep or long, just let it be as it is.”
Following his direction felt easy, natural.
“Now, pay attention to the space between the breaths,” he said, and for a moment I was confused.
What space?
But there it was—a gap, the briefest of pauses between my exhalation and inhalation.
“Good, now don’t try to alter it in any way, just observe it. What does it feel like?”
His voice had a hypnotizing affect, even more so than Master Dogan’s.
“It feels…empty,” I said. “But not in a bad way. Like in that small space, anything is possible.”
My eyes closed, I felt more than saw, Alexander’s smile.
“So it is,” he said. “Much like your ‘not a dream,’ the space is pregnant with possibility. Stay with it.”
I took a few more breaths, riding each like a wave.
“Tell me,” Alexander said, his voice as smooth as my inhalation, “are you afraid of exhaling?”
“Of course not,” I said. “It’s a necessary part of—”
My words were cut off by my wide smile. Of course. It was the cycle again: life, death, creation to destruction. I opened my eyes.
“So you’re saying I don’t have to be afraid of the downward pull I feel when I’m in the Chasm,” I said.
“Precisely,” he said, and I felt myself warm with his approval. “There will always be a downward pull, but ride it out, and there will be an upward one as well. The key is to lengthen your time where the real power is—in the middle. Now, close your eyes again, and this time we will work on touching the Chasm.”
On and on we worked, my excitement growing with each new kernel of information, each new experience. Yet by the time we broke for lunch, I realized that when he’d said “touching” he meant precisely that. After hours of work, that was all I was capable of. Alexander reassured me that it was a process and told me to be patient. I found myself wanting to please him as much as myself; to prove myself worthy of his teaching and the power he was helping me access.
While we dined poolside on some of my favorite foods—I was beginning to think Alexander’s spies might not be an entirely bad thing if it meant I was getting authentic Mexican in the South of France—Alexander taught me a new game.
“And then?” he asked.
The original question had been, “What is your ideal world?” For every answer I gave—world peace, an end to poverty, an end to racism—he would say, “And then?”
I was down to the trivial by the time I said, “Free coffee for everyone!”
I giggled and he smiled. It was fun to not only imagine, but plan the ideal world. To know I could have a hand in making it. The sun was warm on my skin and the warmth that comes from peace of mind emanated from within.
“How many of us will we need to make it happen?” I asked.
“Leave that to me,” Alexander said. “I promise you, in no time we will have a legion of loyal followers.”
“Followers?”
“Of our cause,” he said. “Those who share our same desire to create a better world.”
I sighed, contented.
He excused himself then, saying he would see me at dinner, and though the sun still shone high overhead, as he walked away it was as though Alexander had taken all of its warmth with him.
By the time dinner rolled around, I felt even more confident in my decision to join with Alexander. That he had plenty to teach me could no longer be doubted, nor the fact that he was willing to do so. When I’d asked him how he was able to plot against the Root when It had access (albeit limited) to Alexander’s thoughts, he not only told me, but showed me how to do it. It was yet another variation of Partitioning and involved creating a section of the mind free of any treasonous thoughts against the Root, and having enough discipline and control to maintain it during his limited interactions with It. I followed his instructions with a small measure of success, thrilled that I had something new to work on. How long had it been since I’d experienced that at the Institute?
Speaking of the Institute, I began to ask myself, how dare they use me for their own limited ends, keeping the likes of Alexander away from me? Couldn’t they see the big picture? Why spend our lives fighting demons when we could be done with them completely? More and more I began to wonder if Alexander was right about them and they just couldn’t bear to become obsolete.
I dressed for dinner in the flowing dress I had eschewed less than seventy-two hours prior. I found myself not hating it; in fact, I wanted to look pleasing to Alexander. My mother would have been so proud.
Once again we ate dinner on the terrace, but this time it was later in the evening and the table was lit with candles.
“When can I contact my mother again?” I asked when we’d filled our plates.
“After dinner if you like,” he said. “It’s only afternoon there.”
“And Taren?” I said, knowing he must be sick with worry.
A look of irritation passed so quickly I couldn’t be sure it had been there.
“Soon,” he said, and poured me some wine. “A toast—to the new world.”
I lifted my glass, and another toast came to mind. One on a train, with my friends, my love, and we were grateful not for what was to come, but for life just as it was.
The clinking of our glasses felt hollow, and I had to force myself to take a sip.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, studying me with those penetrating eyes.
“No,” I said, giving a slight shake of my head. “I just miss my friends. I’d like them to share in this.”
“They will be given the opportunity,” he said. “All those that choose to join us will be welcome.”
He’d said that earlier, yet somehow it didn’t ring quite as true this time; I wasn’t sure he meant it. And there was something else… hadn’t he said something about a legion of followers?
“Have another sip of wine,” Alexander said.
I was about to say I didn’t care for one, but before I could get the words out, the glass was to my lips.
The rest of our meal passed as though I were in a dream. Every time I would begin to worry about Taren, about how the Institute would react to all of this, I was drawn away from those thoughts and into my daydream of a perfect world.
The lights of Nice, which had glittered sharp as diamonds when I first sat down, now took on an ethereal glow, the colors blending and merging with one another. The breeze felt almost sensual on my skin, cooling an internal flame I felt emanating from my core.
Everything was going to be fine. Nothing evil could make me feel this good. Imagine if together Alexander and I could give this gift to all of humanity. It was more than I’d ever hoped to accomplish, even knowing I was a Daemon. My aspirations had only extended as far as keeping the world safe from demons, but there was so much more I could give. People could be happy. Truly happy. Not just happy, blissful. Yes, that was what I was feeling: pure, unadulterated, bliss...
Later—a moment, an hour?—I was being carried, and it was as though I were floating on the gentlest of ocean waves. Ecstasy was my only reality.
I felt the softness of the duvet as Alexander gently lowered me to the bed. His eyes were so blue...
Even in my current state I knew I shouldn’t be feeling this way about him.
“Are you making me want to kiss you?” I said, even his face before me becoming blurred.
He smiled. “Not directly, no.”
“Because I have a boyfriend,” I said, my words sounding as thick as my tongue felt. “And I love him.”
“Of course you do,” he said. “And you have nothing to worry about. I won’t take anything from you that you don’t freely give.”
“That sounds fair,” I said, from within my waking dream.
He was so handsome. Moonlight bathed the room, making him every inch the Adonis.
Try to get some sleep,” he said and rose from the bed.
I heard the door click shut behind him, and as it did, a rush of warmth left me. I wrapped myself in the duvet and let its comfort envelop me.
25
It was the pounding that woke me.
I’d ridden wave after wave of bliss the entire night. Now, with sunlight streaming through the bay window, my head throbbed and my heart beat violently against my chest cavity. My throat was dry as dust and I felt weak, like a wrung out sponge.
Lifting my head caused a vertigo-like sensation, as though my brain were sloshing around inside my skull. I rested it back on the pillow. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tray that someone had placed next to my bed while I’d slept. Water. Orange juice. I needed those.
I reached out a trembling hand and took the juice, lifting my head only the inches necessary to get more of it in my mouth than rolling down my chin. I did the same with the water. My stomach threatened to revolt, but dehydration won out and the liquid stayed where I’d put it. I closed my eyes, willing the room to stop spinning.
What the hell happened?
My thoughts were slow in forming, my recollection of the prior evening, fuzzy. The day was clearer, Alexander had trained me. The Chasm. Then we’d had dinner, made a toast… Mom. He’d told me I could call Mom. How could I have gone to bed without—?
The contents of my stomach turned, then roiled. I stumbled to the bathroom where I continued to throw up long after I had nothing left in me to give.
Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet. I gripped the sink with one hand, splashed my face, then rinsed my mouth with the other. I took two small sips of water; I was going to need to start slow.
As I crawled back into bed, I noticed what else was on the tray. A box of saltines. Almost as if someone had known I’d be feeling like death.
I’d only had one or two sips of wine, not enough to cause this. Had my fear finally come true? Had Alexander put something in my food or drink? Nothing else made sense. My stomach burned, not just with nausea, but rage. At him, at myself for letting myself be fooled.
But why? I wondered. Why drug me now, when I was cooperating?
The look he’d given me when I’d asked about Taren—maybe he really had been annoyed. And there had been something about a kiss…my cheeks grew hot with shame when I remembered. I didn’t kiss him, wouldn’t let myself, but I’d wanted to.
What kind of drug makes you want to hook up with someone you’d normally never consider—?
The pieces, ill-fitting and half-remembered as they were, oozed their way into place.
I’d never done Ecstasy, but I knew enough people who had to make the connection. The blissful high, the horrible hangover. The irony was that Alexander hadn’t even needed to put something in my food. He’d simply flooded my mind with seratonin, the feel-good brain chemical, which is why I’d felt so phenomenal. But the body only makes so much seratonin at one time, and once the supply is shot, you feel like crap until your body makes more.
He’d even tipped his hand, going so far as to show me his ability when he’d made the flower bloom. If he could affect its chemical processes, why not mine? He must have laughed later, at how I’d lapped up his Utopia like a kitten given a bowl of cream.
The past few days of my captivity ran through my mind like a movie, and viewed under this new lens, I became ever more horrified by what I saw.
I had toasted a new world, while the world I was actually a part of frantically searched for me. I’d repaid their concern with what? Nothing. With a side of betrayal.
I buried my face in the pillow, any strength I had left forcing a scream from deep in my belly. The tsunami came, and for once I didn’t want to fight it. I deserved to be washed away.
But that was selfish. And indulgent. And I’d been both of those enough already this week. I brought up a Partition, once again locking those feelings away.
The room was no longer spinning, but my brain still sloshed. I drank some more water. I nibbled a few crackers. I had to think.
Whatever I’d allowed myself to believe, I was captive. To a Daemon. Who had lied about everything else, so why not about his commitment to stop the Root? And he had access to Reds.
Now will you listen?
The voice was soft this time, gentle and I was too weak to block it out. I wasn’t buying it, but I couldn’t afford to dismiss it out of hand.
Who are you? What are you? How do I know I can trust you?
The questions were ridiculous. If he were a demon, he’d certainly have no compunction about lying.
I am no demon. My name is Cole and I’m Daemon, like you. As for trusting me, what choice do you have? I’m the only one who can get you out of there.
