Crowned (35 page)

I glance from Spencer to Kelly. They’re actively avoiding looking in each other’s direction. The last time they were in the same room they couldn’t keep their eyes – or their hands – off each other.

“Before I go on, I need to know that we can all work together. Anyone who doesn’t want to be involved doesn’t have to be, but I need to know now.”

No one speaks.

“Kelly? Spencer? Is there going to be a problem?”

“No.” Kelly clears her throat and glances tentatively at Spencer.

He gives an unconvincing nod. I envisage a long, awkward heart-to-heart in the near future. That’s not a premonition, it’s a plan. If I’m going to have all these people in my life – and I mean to – they’ll have to get over their differences. But right now we have more important matters to attend to.

“Hold on,” says Temper. “If the Puppetmaster is watching your every move, shouldn’t we find a way to discuss this in secret?”

I nod. “Normally that would be true, but his attention is divided right now. If he used his full power he could get into the head of anyone in this room, but he’s weak. It’s unlikely he can get past the drifter barriers right now, or mine, or my grandfather’s. Which leaves you three.” I turn to my ungifted friends. “You have to learn to block.”

Lebz squeaks, Wiki frowns and Kelly beams.

“I can teach you,” Ntatemogolo speaks up. “Basic blocking – nothing fancy.”

“Thanks, Ntatemogolo. That should be enough. But that brings me to the next point – I can’t tell you the plan.” A murmur goes up and I hold up my hands for silence. “I can tell you what you need to know to get it done, but that’s all. Just to be safe. And I’m going to be communicating telepathically, so prepare to have your heads invaded.”

No one seems particularly pleased about this, but whatever. This is war.

“You can’t communicate telepathically with all of us,” says Elias. “And you’d have to get past our barriers first. It’ll take you for ever just to say one sentence!”

Sigh. Clearly my little demonstration in the warehouse wasn’t enough. I call up my gift, invite the Ultima to join in, take a deep breath, and proceed to prove him wrong. The intertwined green and blue wires of light shoot out of my head and into the minds around me. I smile. It’s so easy now.

What was that you were saying?
My voice is loud and a little cocky, reverberating in my head. I can tell by the gasps and stunned murmurs that my little trick worked. OK –
our
little trick.

Mandla offers me a grudging nod of approval. Of all the drifters, he knows the most about mind control. His gift is putting people into a pleasant cloudy daze, like being heavily doped on happy pills.

I frown, concentrating on my next task. I have a message for the drifters alone. I send my will out to the others, gently withdrawing my consciousness from their minds. In a few minutes only the connections to the drifters remain.

Rakwena has a special job,
I tell them,
and you’re all going to have to help him. His telepathy is powerful, but it needs to be more controlled. I’m talking laser precision, guys. The Ultima can enhance his power and control, but not enough for my purposes. You must help him practise until he can dice onions with his gift.

They exchange dubious glances. I know what they’re all thinking – that will take a lifetime. Drifters, unlike other gifted, aren’t in the habit of honing their gifts. When all is well with the cell the gifts are strong and effective, and for the short time drifters have existed that has been enough. When you have a cell and a clan behind you, there’s no need to strive to master your gift. So many things come naturally to them that they take them for granted. Well, they can’t afford to do that any more.

I sever the connection with the drifters and move on to Wiki, Lebz and Kelly.

I need some info on the structure of the human brain. A lot of diagrams would be great – the clearer, the better. I need to know the different parts of the brain, how they work, what they do, and what happens when they’re damaged.

They look at each other. Wiki’s nod is firm and determined, Kelly’s eager and excited, and Lebz’s relieved. I bite back a smile; she probably thought I was going to have her fighting on the front lines.

I turn to Duma. He’s engrossed in conversation with Spencer until he senses my presence in his head and turns to face me, eyes wide and enquiring.

I need to know what happened while you were with him, what you saw, what you heard. I know,
I go on, as his thoughts remind me that he doesn’t remember.
But the information is in your head, and I’d like permission to look for it.

He nods and smiles, happy to be of service. To think he could have been badly hurt – or worse – during that altercation between the two factions of the army… But he wasn’t. I should focus on that. I return his smile, and then walk over to my grandfather. He’s been quiet throughout these proceedings, letting me take charge despite his views on my discernment – or lack thereof.

“So far so good,” he says grudgingly. “Your talent is indisputable, but that will not be enough. If the Ultima is the Puppetmaster’s creation, using her power could backfire.”

“If so, the Loosening will carry on until it devours the whole world. I don’t think that’s what he wants. He wants it destroyed. He wants to see what the Ultima can do.”

“And after that he claims his prize.” Ntatemogolo scowls in disgust. “You and Rakwena. And you think you can stop him?”

I smile. “Yes. What I’m about to ask you to do is complex. I don’t think it’s ever been done before.”

His frown remains in place but his eyes twinkle. I’ve piqued his curiosity. “Tell me.”

I slip into his head and outline my plan. After I finish he’s quiet for a long time. “Am I being too ambitious?” I ask.

His lips curl in a reluctant smile. “Yes, but that is nothing new. I believe your plan can work if we are very, very careful. But Connie, please remember who we are dealing with. He must have anticipated an attack and taken steps to neutralise it. I still believe there was a reason for those three meetings beyond telling you his story.”

“What reason could there be, Ntatemogolo?”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “But I know you. You will put this plan in motion no matter what I say.”

I look into his eyes, prepared to stand my ground, and then something inside me shifts. This time I don’t need the Ultima to tell me what the moment calls for. I rise to the occasion all on my own, and take a massive leap of faith. “If you forbid it, Ntatemogolo, I won’t do it.”

The room grows quiet; the others must have heard my shocking announcement, but I’m not done yet.

“I respect your advice. We disagree on the Ultima but I know that you have my best interests at heart, and you are still the wisest person I know. If you tell me not to do this, I will send everyone home right now.” Part of me is screaming. It’s the part that never listens and always thinks she’s right. I ignore her.

My grandfather’s eyes widen. “And the Loosening?”

I shrug. “The Ultima will have to find another way.”

He looks at me for a long time. No one speaks. I’m holding my breath, hoping I made the right call. I need my grandfather on board. This plan can’t succeed without him, so if he’s uncertain there’s no point.

“You really have changed,” he says. “In the past you would never have shown such trust. I see the new energy that inhabits you, but I also see my granddaughter. She is brilliant and brave, a true gifted warrior. I will do what I can to help you succeed.”

I’m so relieved I throw my arms around him, though I know he’s not a hugger and displays of affection make him uncomfortable. I blink back tears. Damn, that was a good speech. I wish I’d recorded it. “Thank you.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he murmurs, and I release him hastily. He glances at my ungifted friends and raises his voice so they can hear him. “Tomorrow, two p.m., my house. Be punctual.” He starts towards the door.

“Are you leaving already?” I blurt out.

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Unless you want me to start working on it tomorrow.”

“Oh!” I’m thrilled at his eagerness. “No, please go. And thanks again.”

He nods, smiles and exits the room.

“
Yoh
, that was deep!” declares Elias, and everyone laughs.

“OK, guys!” I clap my hands together, feeling a little like the overpaid facilitator of one of those fancy seminars. “Let’s get cracking – we have a lot to do.”

I’m dizzy with relief and nerves. Literally. My head starts to spin and my eyes sting, and then the images come. Blinding red light, nine buried quartzite rocks, screaming voices…and something that looks like a giant thermometer. Instead of mercury, it’s filled with blood. The thick red liquid is climbing higher and higher. In the background the sun sets, then rises, sets, then rises, and sets again. One night and two full days. When daylight returns, the blood has reached the top of the thermometer. It explodes, sending fat red droplets raining over the world, and then everything goes black.

When I come out of it I find myself on the floor, my friends surrounding me. Rakwena’s arms are wrapped around my waist, pulling me up.

I blink, swallow and offer everyone a weak smile. “I’m fine,” I whisper. I cough, still dazed, my head ringing.

“Premonition?” asks Rakwena, and I nod.

“You mean she gets like that every single time?” That sounds like Reetsang.

“I’ve never seen one this bad,” says Wiki. His voice is only slightly shaky.

I cough again, certain that the Ultima was behind this particular premonition. It was a little more dramatic than my usual premonitions – like something out of a bad movie. I’d laugh if it weren’t so distressing.

“I saw the Loosening,” I announce, and everyone falls silent. My voice is still hoarse; I cough again to clear it. “There was red light and it felt like I was being split in two. The most important thing is that it seems we have a deadline.” Ten pairs of eyes regard me expectantly. I sigh. “It’s a little tight.”

“When she says a little, she means a lot,” says Lebz, glaring at me.

I let Rakwena lead me to the sofa. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

Temper sits on my other side. “What do you mean, there’s a deadline? You know exactly when the Puppetmaster plans to come for you and Rakwena?”

“No, but I know when the Loosening is going to blow. It’s already highly unstable – soon it will be impossible to conceal.” I rub my temples. “Basically we’re going to have the equivalent of a supernatural bomb on our hands, and I have no idea what kind of damage it’ll cause. We have to execute the plan before then.”

“So how long do we have?” asks Rakwena. He keeps his arm around me.

I bite my lip and look at the tense faces around me. “Two days.”

“Two days?” exclaims Spencer. “You expect us to get everything done in
two days
?”

Everyone bursts into protest.

“It’s impossible!”

“We might as well forget about it.”

“That’s just crazy…”

“I know it’s crazy!” I yell above the din. “Believe me, I know. But we don’t have a choice. The Ultima is going to stop the Loosening no matter what – it’s the reason she’s here. And if that happens before we’re prepared, that’s the end of me and Rakwena, and life as we know it. Because the Puppetmaster
will
carry out his plan, which ensures none of us will ever be free again. I don’t know about you, but I suspect that a supernatural dictatorship will be worse than a natural one, and I’d rather die than let the gifted be enslaved by a maniac.”

The room falls silent again. Temper is the one to break it. “You realise that’s a possibility, don’t you? Dying.”

I look up into his eyes. “I’ve always realised it. Now, I’m going to ask you again and I need you to answer honestly. Can you help me or not?”

“Help
us
,” says Rakwena, and holds out his hand, palm down. “Who’s in?”

The drifters don’t hesitate – there’s no way they can refuse to help a brother. Wiki and Kelly are just as certain. It’s Lebz who hesitates, but only for a second. One hand covers another, and mine comes last.

I beam round at them. “Thank you.”

“No sweat,” says Spencer. “Time to kick some Puppetmaster butt!”

Hope you heard that, John. On second thought, hope you didn’t.

* * *

The next twenty-four hours pass in a haze of furious training. When I sleep I take the sleeping draught, just to be safe. The Ultima no longer needs dreams to communicate with me, anyway. Ntatemogolo drops by to give me a few magical objects to practise on. I unlock their secrets and then rework the spells by inversing the process – retracing my steps.

After a few hours I’m exhausted. Dad pops in to check on me, and freezes in the doorway when he sees the random objects littering my bedroom floor.

“Training?” he asks, and I nod.

He hesitates, and I can tell he’s torn between curiosity and wariness. Wariness wins. He backs out of the room after wishing me luck, and returns to the world he understands.

The next afternoon I go to the drifters’ house to see Duma and check on Rakwena’s progress. The house is uncharacteristically noisy. I step into the kitchen and hear odd hissing and spitting noises, as well as the voices of the drifters, alternately cheering and groaning. It reminds me of the sounds I used to hear when Dad had friends over to watch political debates.

I peer into the living room, then duck as a flash of blue light shoots past me, hitting the wall and sending flakes of paint flying. I watch the flakes fall to the floor, then turn to look at the deadly weapon that is Rakwena.

“That was really good,” I marvel, glancing up at the nick in the wall. Knowing Rakwena, it’s a miracle he didn’t blow a hole right through to the other side.

“No, it’s not,” snaps Reetsang, who’s standing a few metres in front of the wall. He raises the cushion in his hands, which has a big circle drawn on its top right corner, right next to a fresh singe mark. “He was aiming for
this
.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Ah. I see your point.”