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Trying to resist the urge, I squeeze my eyes shut and sit up abruptly. My vision finally focuses, and I can make out the individual Council members in their black robes. Their astonished faces are all staring at me.
“It can’t have been that bad,” mutters Mr. Montrell’s daughter.
“What… what would you know?!” I rasp. My voice becomes stronger with each word. “You have no idea how painful that was, or what this test means for me, or what affect it had on me.”
“Well, we can’t always take your psychological sensibilities into account. You’re a person with a gift, after all, and it’s important to find out whether you’re up to that challenge,” scoffs Margret Montrell. “And as some of us feared, you didn’t do too well.”
Her words come as a shock because that hadn’t even occurred to me. Is the Council of the opinion that I didn’t pass the test? I stare in amazement at their faces and try to discern the answer to that question.
“You look surprised,” says Mr. Fabrici. “You knew what we wanted to see in this test. You were supposed to demonstrate whether you have mastery of your gift – or at least a smidgen of control over it. But it was clear that you were completely at its mercy. When I called the harbingers, the threads appeared to you. But you made no attempt to control your gift. For example, you could have focused on one thread at the exclusion of the others so that they affected you less. Instead, you focused your attention on the harbingers, charged forward in a panic, and knocked one of them to the ground. What was the point of that?” He shakes his head in bewilderment.
I wonder how the test must have looked to the Council. They couldn’t see the threads, and probably not the wavering air either, when the harbingers appeared. So they have no idea what it was like for me.
“Are you trying to tell me,” I say, taking a deep breath and looking him straight in the eye, “that I didn’t pass the test?”
He creases his forehead. “I’m surprised that you’re surprised. Surely you realize the result of the behavior you just demonstrated.”
I take a deep breath and try to stay calm, to ignore the pain in my chest. Everything starts spinning as these words keep running through my head over and over: It was all for nothing. It’s over.
“Don’t see it as a punishment,” says Mr. Fabrici. “My family will take you under its wing and give you the support you need. You can count on us. You’ll be in good hands.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. All that effort, all the extra training over the last couple of weeks was in vain. I failed, and now I have to leave my home. I shake my head, appalled, and suddenly, it’s all too much for me. The excruciating pain surges through me again with such force that it almost takes my breath away. My hands clench into fists, and my heart hammers in my throat. The agony that’s making every fiber of my being scream – I can’t take it anymore!
Just do it! You know what to do. You’re the only one who can end this. Right now! Take that step. You have no other choice. Your destiny is written.
I notice a faint skein of smoke spreading across my hand. I quickly hold it behind my back so the Council can’t see it. I’m so close. So close to the edge. I clench my hand into a fist, feel my heart pounding and this unbelievable pain overwhelming me. I jump up abruptly, stagger a few paces, regain my balance, and run. Out of this room, away from the Council members, who stare after me with stunned expressions.
“What’s this now?!”
“Unbelievable! Such an utter lack of self-control!”
“We can’t let her get away with that.”
“Stop it,” I hear Mr. Cunningham say as I fling open the door and dash through it. “Just give her time.”
Time – what good will that do?! It’s over. I can’t take any more of this. I have to get out of here. I don’t care what happens after that. Maybe it really would be better to join the ranks of the fallen. Finally some peace, no more suffering, no more anguish. Oh, it’s so tempting.
Freedom, whispers the voice. You’d be free. Not a prisoner. Just do it already! You know it’s what you want.
And suddenly, I realize that’s true. Yes, the voice is right. I don’t want to fight anymore, don’t want to be these people’s pawn. I want to forge a new path, one that leads to my freedom. Nobody could bring me back from there. It’s so enticing, and I’m finally ready. It’s the only option left open to me. I finally see that.
With that realization, I run along the corridors. For a moment, I think I hear a voice behind me, but if it’s real, I ignore it. I can’t tolerate anyone. So I keep running and feel this numbness slowly spread through my body. My feelings fade into the background and dissolve into nothingness. And right now, I’m glad. The pain subsides, along with the shame, the rage – everything ebbs away. I spot a door that leads outside. I hurry toward it, push it open, and burst through it.
Cool air envelops me. Night has fallen, wrapping around me like a dark blanket. I lift my head and breathe in the fresh sea air. But even that doesn’t trigger any feelings in me. Should that scare me? I don’t know.
I slowly look down at my hands. They’re completely engulfed in black smoke; it’s already creeping up my arms and winding around my legs. There’s no going back now. And I’m ready. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let myself go.
Just at that moment, I think I hear a voice again. It sounds muffled, as if it’s coming from a long way off. But it stirs something in me. No, I can’t let it. I’ve made my decision.
“Tess,” it says, this time much clearer.
Drawn to the sound, I open my eyes and see Ayden. He’s standing only two steps away from me, slowly reaching his hand out to me. I’ve never seen such a horrified look on his face. He looks shaken and tense.
“Tess,” he says again. I can see that he’s conflicted – can he risk getting closer to me or will that just make everything worse? But his indecision only lasts the blink of an eye, then he’s with me, grasping my hand.
His warmth gives me a shock that momentarily takes my breath away. I almost jump back, but Ayden holds me tight.
“I can’t lose you again,” he says quietly, looking me straight in the eye. That deep captivating green that normally stirs up so many emotions in me can’t reach me anymore. It’s not the same as it used to be. I stare at him, and at first, I don’t understand why he’s so horrified. Everything’s going to be alright. What’s happening was always supposed to happen. And I’m about to tell him that when his words finally sink in. I frown, unsure how to make him understand what I’m trying to do. I open my lips, but no sound comes out.
