His study was a small training space, but she needed to take advantage of the time she had. Books soared from their shelves, encircling Memphis before shooting out like bullets at her. Emory dodged the assault, silently thanking her karate teacher for years of classes on Earth. She spun toward Memphis, breathing deeply and trying to clear her mind as she found her mark and clasped his forearm. Pushing forward, she gritted her teeth and willed that rush of power that had been so close to the surface since she had gotten here.
Emory waited, but nothing happened.
Memphis scrunched his face as a laugh burst from him in a strangled, choking sound. Emory swatted his arm, annoyed and Memphis waggled his eyebrows, trying to ease the tension.
Grabbing her hand, he enticingly whispered, “Above anything else, your concentration will be your best friend. Dive into that well of power and allow your ability to take hold.”
Sighing, Emory rolled her shoulders, and escaping his hold, she started to walk away.
Memphis said to her back, “Let’s go again.”
Tiredness clung to her, but Emory prepared herself. Tremors shook through her legs, as Memphis paced the other side of the room, agitated. Narrowing her eyes, anger licked at her heart. How dare Memphis alter her mind against her will.
Six years of lies, of seeing Memphis as her guardian. Her protector.
Exhaling, bitterness filled Emory’s mouth, and she allowed herself to fill up with the frustration about the lies, deceit, death, and how her world had been torn apart by all of this. Memphis stilled, arching a pale eyebrow at her. Her pulse thundered when Memphis closed the space between them, fists flying.
She had never been coordinated, but fueled by adrenaline, she tried.
Her forearm blocked his hit, her flesh bruising from the impact. Her feet scuffled back, and using her core, she threw two uppercuts that Memphis easily avoided. Breathing hard, she sprinted, her arms grabbing him around his waist as they crashed into the bookcase. Her right hand grabbed his wrist, and Emory felt her ability crash into him. Memphis’s face darkened, and in a flash, he slammed his elbow into her nose. Dots flooded into her vision; blood gushed down her face. Fire ran up the bridge of her nose, the pain so potent she squeezed her eyes shut, falling back.
Memphis was suddenly on her, pinning her wrists above her head. Reacting, she slammed her knee into his groin, hissing through the pain as she rolled. Memphis, for the moment, was preoccupied, trying to recover, and Emory reached for his ankle. Blood spattered down the front of her shirt, soaking it through as her ability crashed into Memphis Carter.
There was no room for guilt, for second guesses. Her anger took over every crevice of her mind, and she channeled it toward Memphis. She felt the shift as his ability started draining out of him and into her, but she pushed the fact aside, focusing on debilitating him, emptying him of his strength.
“Enough, Em! Enough!”
A swift kick to her gut left her dry heaving, as Memphis shakily stood, panting.
There was a strained silence before Memphis asked, “What was that about?” He stared at her like he was seeing her clearly for the first time.
Pinching her nose, Emory replied, ”I think you broke my nose.”
“Pain is part of growth.”
Shaking her head, Emory stood, narrowing her eyes at the rebel leader. “Always remember, I’m not someone you can trick and push around without there being consequences.”
With that, she left, slamming the door behind her. Shaking she went to find Bryd, hoping the younger girl could point her in the direction of a healer. Limping down the hallway, her thoughts darkened.
If she could control what she was and master it, she could face Adair alone. It was time she fought her own battles.
***
That night brought on a thick blanket of dreams, capturing her in the memories.
Emory ran down the hallway, screeching as Memphis and Brokk tailed her. She could have doubled over from laughing so hard, but she pushed faster, her black hair loosening behind her. They turned the corner, and she almost slammed straight into her father, his arms folded across his wide chest, his kind eyes shining down at her. The boys almost ran into her back from stopping so fast, and they instantly dipped their heads in respect. Her jaw ached from trying to compose herself.
Her father’s mouth started moving, but it was as if the memory had been tampered with, and Emory’s surroundings started to blend together.
She caught movement behind her father, a tall commanding looking man, and she focused on Adair when he came into view. He couldn’t have been older than twelve, his willowy stance and long limbs looking awkward as he walked toward her. His dark hair and dark eyes reflected no kindness, only a bitter resentment.
“What are they doing with you?”
They meaning Brokk and Memphis. Emory bristled. “What are you doing? They’re my friends, Adair. They don’t need further explanation than that.”
He sneered. “Two orphaned mutts that shouldn’t even be allowed here, and you have them on a leash. Put it together, Em, and you wonder why people don’t take you seriously. You are a princess, not a commoner. Start acting like it.”
His words stung, and the memory swirled and twisted, dissipating to darkness.
And she was alone.
***
The rest of the afternoon passed with an excitement that was never seen before. Emory had found Bryd who pointed her in the direction of the rebels’ healer, Delane. His ability had healed most of her wounds from her training session so, now, just deep bruising remained.
News of the dance had spread like wildfire, and she leaned against the wall in the hallway, clutching the one possession from Earth she had on her when Brokk and Memphis had come. Her iPod.
Emory looked at the groups of
