LITMIR.BIZ

       chapter five

      “Wise counsel is an invaluable treasure.”

      —Troika

      Ten

      Electric impulses race through my comm, jolting me. One second I’m in the scorched manna field, the next I’m in a private room at the Baths of Restoration, standing in the middle of a pool.

      The change of scenery is startling, and I struggle to catch my breath as I orient myself. Four stone walls surround me. Above, there’s no ceiling, allowing me to peer up at the beautiful crimson sky, so peaceful it taunts me.

      “It freaking worked.” Clay Anders steps into view. He’s flanked by three others: Reed Haynesworth, Raanan Aarons and Clementine Vickers.

      Happiness overtakes me. My friends are here. I met Clay in the Prynne Asylum. He’s the kind of friend others dream of having. Rock solid, loyal and 100 percent dependable.

      Reed, I rescued from Many Ends. Raanan and Clementine experienced Firstdeath on the same day as me, so we went through Troikan initiation together. We haven’t always gotten along, but we’ve been through hell and back. Bonds formed. Trust was forged.

      Everyone but me is wearing a ceremonial robe. White with green trim = Laborer-in-training.

      While Clay is my age, both Reed and Raanan are a year older. All three boys are tall with black hair, but that is where their similarities end. Clay is lean and tanned with wavy locks that frame a classically handsome face, and navy blue eyes. Reed is wider, more striking, with lighter skin, hair that is straight as a board and brown eyes with a beautiful uptilt. Raanan is dark from head to toe and packed with muscle, with midnight eyes filled with the smoldering heat of a desert sun.

      Clementine is the youngest, her pale skin covered in adorable freckles. She has pink hair, big hazel eyes and charming features. To me, she looks like a living doll.

      Normally my friend Kayla Brooks would be here, too, but she’s currently recovering from a bullet to the face. My hands fist. The shooter? Victor Prince. He convinced her to betray Troika, told her they would bring about the end of the war and when that happened, they could be together. A lie, all a lie. Victor hadn’t wanted the war to end; he’d wanted Troika laid to waste.

      He is responsible for the most recent attack. When he failed to win me over to his cause, he tried to assassinate me.

      Truth is, even if Kayla were recovered, I doubt she’d be here. Her actions hurt innocent people. A lot of innocent people. Yes, she realized her mistake, and she’s been forgiven by the majority, but no one trusts her. Including me. I love her dearly, but even I have limits.

      The muscles in my shoulders bunch into hard knots. I’m the worst kind of person in the world right now—I’m a freaking hypocrite. Again and again, I’ve sided with Killian. How easily my situation could have been like Kayla’s.

      If ever Killian had used me...

      But he hadn’t. He won’t. There’s a big difference between our boyfriends: Victor sees no value in life other than his own, and Killian does. Or he used to. I don’t know the man he’s become.

      I need my old Killian back. Killian 1.0. There’s no beating the original.

      With my friends at my sides, I can do anything. Even bring Killian 2.0 into the Light.

      The knots unwind, and my tension fades. “How am I here?” I ask. “Better yet, why am I here? And where are your guardian animals?” Dang it, where’s mine? Gimme!

      “One question at a time,” Raanan says. “We heard you’d returned from a secret meeting and the first thing you did was visit the Eye. We needed to speak with you, so we had Clem retrace your steps. And I’m still waiting to meet my guardian.”

      “Me, too,” the others say in unison.

      “Tell us about the secret meeting,” Clay says.

      What to admit, and what to hold back? “I’ll tell you, but can we backtrack a minute? Did you say Clementine worked the Eye?” Only Leaders train at the Eye. Last I heard, Clementine was a Laborer.

      Grinning, she fluffs her hair. “Didn’t you hear? Lots of people got a promotion, and I’m one of them. Thanks to the Grid, skills were downloaded straight into my brain.”

      “While you were gone, announcements were made.” Reed sits at the edge of the pool, and draws one knee up to his chest. “The bombings killed so many, massive restructuring had to be done. Clementine, Rebel, Winifred, Hoshi and Sawyer are to become Leaders.”

      “What about you? What about Nico and Fatima?” They are the other newbies who experienced Firstdeath on the same day as me. Fatima is the youngest at six years old.

      Reed rubs two fingers over his jaw. “I turned down a Leader position, and Fatima’s training has been delayed. She’s not coping well with all the disasters. As for Nico, I don’t know. No one’s heard from him since the bombings.”

      Zero! What if he’s trapped underneath the rubble?

      “I got a promotion, too, only information wasn’t downloaded into my Grid.” Raanan levels a hard gaze on me. “Probably because you’re the one who promoted me.”

      Frowning, unsure I heard him correctly, I thump my chest. “Me?”

      Nod. “What did you do to me?”

      “Nothing?” I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about.

      “Wrong.” He points a finger at me. “After the bombs were set off inside the realm, you touched me. Lightning arced between us. Ever since, I’ve been burning up with fever, though I’m not sick. I’m stronger. And I know, I know. I was hot already. Now I’m scorching.” He winked.

      As suspicions dance through my mind, I chew on my bottom lip. Is it possible...? “Has the Grid expanded inside your mind?”

      His eyes widen. “Yes. New doors keep popping up.”

      I chew harder. Somehow I must have turned him into a Conduit, the way Myriadian Generals can turn humans into Abrogates. Except, he’s not as radiant as before, and Conduits glow. Or maybe the problem with that is, well, me? Maybe I can’t see Light the way I once did, my mind too clouded by shadows. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure I’m right. Let me do a little digging before I—”

      “Tell me,” he demands.

      Oookay.

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