Rob stopped struggling, instantly defeated.
Growing up, Rob had never complained about the twist in genetics that resulted in him not being Gifted, despite having one Gifted parent and two Gifted siblings. He’d always seemed perfectly content watching his younger siblings grow increasingly powerful – there’d never been the slightest hint of jealously. But now, in this single moment, Rob’s shoulders dropped under the weight of his deficiency and Jamie wondered if his brother had ever dreamed of being Gifted.
Pulling Rob into a brief hug, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Rob shook his head, the moment of regret passing swiftly. “Don’t be.” He said firmly. “Go and be careful. Be safe.”
Feeling terribly alone, Jamie turned back to the doors. He took a deep breath to steady himself before taking the final step forward and reached out towards the door.
He managed to swallow an unmanly yelp of surprise, but couldn’t help stepping backwards as two sentinels appeared on either side of the door, materializing out of thin air. White and completely translucent, they looked like what Jamie imagined ghosts to be, but perhaps with more substance. Clad in armor and carrying spears, they were at least as scary as ghosts and more than a little intimidating. They barred his way to the door, bringing their spears together with a sharp clash that implied their ability to do real damage despite their insubstantial appearance. Jamie glanced back over his shoulder, but the Cleaners remained motionless and Rob just raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
Utterly unhelpful, the lot of them.
Jamie stepped forward again and one of the sentinels reached out a hand, palm up. It was asking for something, but what? He had nothing to offer it.
Jamie hesitated, and then mirroring the sentinel’s movement, he offered his hand. Its hand closed around his and Jamie felt a brief moment of infinite light, bright, pure and comforting – the Source. Whoever or whatever created these sentinels had been both old and powerful.
He tried not to flinch as a small dagger appeared in the sentinel’s other hand. It twisted the dagger against his palm. A delicate line appeared and two tiny drops of blood welled up. The experience was nearly painless.
The sentinel gripped his hand tighter and ran two fingers across the cut, smearing the blood over his palm. For an instant, nothing happened, and then suddenly a bright light seemed to pulse within the sentinel. A moment later the sentinels stepped back and faded away. With their departure the doors slid open soundlessly.
It had been a test for his Gift and he’d passed.
Chapter 5 – Allyra
Allyra guessed they’d been in the forest for at least three hours now. The freezing air had forced its way through her flesh, sinking deep into her bones. It cut through her like a knife, numbing her movements and slowing her thoughts.
Within minutes of being in the forest she’d lost all feeling in her fingers and sometime in the second hour her ears and nose had started feeling like they might actually fall off if pushed the wrong way. A thick layer of ice coated her eyelashes and ironically, every icy breath felt like fire searing through her lungs.
As awful as the cold was, it was nothing compared to the all-pervading feeling of death in this forest. She’d felt it in the first minute as they stepped into its dappled shadow. It menaced over her, dark and shadowy tendrils reaching out, trying to pull her into its cold embrace. It was old and powerful – built over the ages, out of the layers upon layers of death, scattered on the ground like autumn leaves.
She was lost almost immediately, there was no obvious path to follow – it was all the same – identical silver trees in every direction, weaving and swaying together. It was the trees that dictated their path, moving silently and unpredictably, yet Alex seemed to know every turn and twist, able to anticipate every abrupt change in direction.
It was a dance with death and she didn’t know the steps.
She was the ungainly idiot with two left feet, pulled and tugged into position by her more graceful partner. Alex was a solid presence by her side, guiding her every move. Without him she might have died a thousand deaths. He was as quick and light as she was clumsy and uncoordinated.
The forest set a relentless pace. There was no time to pause, not even to catch her breath. Alex pushed her forward mercilessly, forcing her to move more swiftly, correcting her stumbling steps. She felt drained, exhausted and so cold that even her bones seemed hollow and brittle.
Allyra wanted to give up. She would’ve given up except Alex didn’t let her.
With every step, death became a more attractive alternative. But Alex refused to allow her to capitulate. He kept her pressed to his side, and she tried to draw on his heat and will. It was only through this borrowed strength that she managed to continue stumbling forward.
The break in the trees appeared to her like a mirage, an image of safety conjured up by her beleaguered mind. Mindlessly, she lunged for it, desperate to escape the specter of death hanging over her.
He must’ve been tired too, because he was just a note too late to stop her, his fingers brushing against hers as he tried to pull her back.
It was so brief.
The contact was so light that it might not have been at all. Her arm grazed past a silver tree trunk and realization flashed in her mind – these trees were made of metal, smooth and icy against her skin.
As a single entity the trees burst into action – furious and deadly. The swaying branches became whistling blades, sharpened to a perfect edge, desperate for the taste of her blood.
“Run!” Alex screamed, his voice too loud after the silence of the last few hours.
He didn’t wait for her to react, choosing instead to pull her into a mad sprint.
