Keystone (4 page)

“Here we go.” Brandon grumbles from the other bed. Mark yawns, scraping the candle on the bedside table with his fingernail. Sean ignores both of them, his eyes glued to me.

“Did you know that the Veritas have the most intricate underground tunneling system in the world? They are masters of disguise!” Sean says. “Veritas are not only engineering geniuses, but they’re the world’s greatest escape artists! There have even been reports of Veritas passageways with trapdoors and secret tunnels
inside
the main tunnels that only certain Veritas know about.”

I laugh. “And what does that have to do with getting rid of these sweats?”

“The Veritas have tunnels into all of the Contego stores,” Sean says. “Not to mention all the Simple venues. Veritas come and go at will, taking what they need.” He actually giggles. “Do you know that in the history of the Veritas, the entrance to an intact Veritas tunnel has only been found…guess how many times.”

I shrug and Sean bounces on the balls of his feet, until I answer, “How many?”

“Twice!” Sean booms. “The tunnels are all rigged so that a Veritas can collapse them at any time and re-route in another direction. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yup. Sure is,” Brandon deadpans.

Mark rolls his eyes and mumbles to me, “Just say it’s amazing so he’ll stop.”

But there is no stopping Sean now. That’s obvious.

“Has anyone even explained to you how essential the Veritas are to the Ianua?” Sean dumps himself down beside me so hard that the mattress jumps and I bump against Garrett. My mind wanders and the only reason I can re-focus and even pay attention to what Sean is saying is because Garrett’s gaze is glued on his brother with such pride.

“The Veritas listen to everything happening all over the world.
Everything
!” Sean blabbers. “It’s amazing isn’t it? But their primary job is to keep the energies balanced. They spend their entire lives in intervals of meditation. Energy keeps the world in balance. Energy!”

Sean pauses, searching my face for a reaction. I get the feeling I should be blown away or awed or something, but I’m just stuck on what he said about the Veritas hearing everything and what that means exactly. Sean’s eyes are wide as he stares at me, but whatever expression I’ve got hanging there just makes him run a quick hand through his hair and try again.

“The Veritas are Equalizers. They stabilize the energy flow. Disproportionate amounts of energy could...” I don’t mean to yawn, but I do. Sean’s hands drop to his sides and he gives me a tolerant grin. “Well...never mind. I could talk about this stuff for hours. I guess that’s what happens when you’re the only one in your family that’s never received a sign. It makes it all the more fascinating.”

“I told you my brother was seriously stocked.” Garrett taps his temple. “I swear, Sean knows more about the Ianua than any of us.”

“Besides Dad,” Sean corrects quickly. The four Reese brothers go silent and I give them a second before I clear my throat.

“Well, it sounds pretty miraculous,” I say. “What were you saying about the Veritas being able to hear everything?”

“Yeah, well,” Sean says, coughing softly into his fist. “They do. Most of them live in underground homes, like this one, because energy waves conduct more efficiently through moist soil. Although, some Veritas have homes in close proximity to tree roots in order to ground themselves and mute the communication for a while.”

Everything he says drops right out of my head, except one thing.

“Underground?” I say. “Wait. Where are we?”

I look around the room and it finally sinks in that there are no windows. There weren’t any in the bathroom either, just a fan in the ceiling. It didn’t seem strange until now. What kind of place doesn’t have windows?

“Library.” The pebble voice drifts in from the doorway.

The doorframe makes the itty-bitty man standing there seem even tinier. His face is round and flat, but his eyes are just slits without lashes and each have a glittery black marble inside. He’s wearing a spotless white shirt and khakis, with creases ironed all over the place, so when he moves, he resembles a wavy potato chip.

“Hello.” I say and a little grin seeps across the tiny man’s face. “I’m Nalena Maxwell. My mom is...she was...my mom is Alo Evangeline Maxwell. Thank you for letting me stay here...”

“Take a breath all ready, Nali.” Mark laughs. “It’s just Nok. He’s no big deal.”

Nok smiles, rolling from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again, as if he doesn’t have any problem with being considered trivial.

“No,” Nok tells me, as if I’ve asked him something. I look to the other Reese’s, wondering what someone said that I didn’t hear, but no one else seems to have said anything. Nok stops rolling on his feet and says, “Nothing.”

I look again to the Reese’s, but there’s still no response until Sean asks Nok, what he’s making for dinner. Then Sean adds, in my direction, “You’re going to be amazed. Nok’s a great cook.”

“Veg-tables,” Nok says.

“Don’t worry about what it’s called. It’s always good,” Mark says.

“Yes.” Nok says, but he’s looking at Brandon as if he was the one talking instead of Sean. I figure his strange eyes might make it hard to see properly in the light.

Suddenly, Nok’s eyes are on me and he says, “No.”

“Um...I didn’t say anything.” I smile apologetically. “That was Sean.”

Nok’s eyes flicker away from me, to Brandon again.

“Secret!” Nok’s laugh booms as if he’s eight feet tall. Then he turns to Mark and says, “No.” and whips back in Brandon’s direction and laughs, “Nev-her!”

Nok’s head jerks from Brandon to Mark, back and forth like he’s shooting at them in some turbo-paced gun fight, but instead of bullets, he’s rifling answers as fast as he can move his head: “Poke.” “Maybe.” “No.” “Wij.” “Me-ball.” “Drujstore.” “Tomarwow!” “Yes.”

I listen to Nok’s odd accent and how none of his words seem to fit together and even weirder, how he seems to be answering Brandon and Mark even though they aren’t talking. Brandon is just staring at the wall over Sean’s shoulder and Mark is studying his fingernails with a smirk on his face. I finally turn to Garrett, who’s watching with amusement instead of confusion, which is even more confusing.

I nudge him and whisper, “What are they doing?”

“None! Like! Ha! Majic? Poke!” Nok is still spraying the silent room with answers.

“Mark and Brandon are trying to drive Nok nuts,” Garrett whispers. He leans back, his hand on the mattress behind me, close enough to run sparks up my spine. I relax beside him and Garrett says, “Nok hears everything. Including what we think.”

He can’t hear
everything.

Nok suddenly catches my eye, tipping his chin down and eyebrows up. “Everything,” he says.

“What we’re
thinking
?” I hardly move my lips as I whisper it back to Garrett.

Nok pauses in the middle of his barrage of answers to tell me, “Yup.” Then he resumes firing his one-liners at the younger Reese’s.

Garrett laughs. “Mark and Brandon like to see if they can overload him and throw him off tilt.”

“Can they?” I ask.

Nok pauses again to answer me with a cocky smile, “Nev’her!”

I scoot back, running into the diagonal of Garrett’s arm. He moves over to give me more room. Ugh.

I start to consider what ‘everything’ really means. The zillion thoughts I think about being a coward, about what a weakling I am without my mom, and about how scared I am of being the Ianua’s lousiest warrior. I go clammy, remembering what I thought about the Great-Pumpkin-sweats that Nok gave me, and what I thought of how he looked when he was standing in the doorway just a couple of seconds ago.

But then my mind skitters to all the thoughts I have about Garrett.

All
of them.

Everything…about Garrett...and about Garrett and me together. The collage of kisses. How much time I spend in my head, retracing the weave of veins in his arms. All the really specific daydreams about things I’ve never even done before, but have been trying to figure out how to do well, for when the time comes. I am overwhelmed with shame for every petty, dirty, or mean thing I’ve ever thought quietly inside my head, knowing now that someone might’ve actually heard it.

I try to make my mind blank. But I can’t stop thinking the wrong thoughts. Garrett leans toward me until his face is nearly touching the skin of my cheek.

“You’re thinking,
oh crap
, aren’t you?” he says.

I swallow. Nod. Gulp. “Yeah.”

Garrett laughs and Nok slaps down the air toward the boys and says, “Sill’ness.” He looks at me one more time, his face as open and inviting as a meadow.

He says with a shrug, “You. Fine.”

Then he turns on his heel and leaves.

“Oh...did you see that?” Mark pipes up. “Nok’s got a crush on Nali. You got two whole words out of him!”

Mark tries to kick my ankle from across the bed divide, but Garrett intercepts with his own leg and shoves Mark away.

“Shut up all ready,” Garrett says, but Brandon joins in, singing about Nok and me in trees, making kissing sounds. Sean bashes him with a pillow, which only muffles Brandon for a second. But then Garrett jumps to the edge of the bed and that’s enough to send both the younger Reeses scampering out of the room.

When they’re gone, I ask Garrett, “Does he really hear everything? Are you sure? Because Addo said that nobody can hear my thoughts unless I project them.”

“Well, you do have to project with Addo. The Veritas are different though. I know it seems impossible at first, but try not to let it bug you.”

Sean adds, “Think of it this way, Nali. What if you heard every single thought of everyone around you all day long? How important would any of it really be after a while?”

I swallow hard. “Can anyone else hear what I’m thinking?”

“Nope,” Garrett says and he shoots me a smile. “Dang it.”

From down the hall, I hear the tinkle of a ceramic bell and Nok calls only once, “Fud.”

I follow Garrett and Sean out of the bedroom and down the hall into a long and narrow room that reminds me a lot of the Addo’s old trailer that was just one enormous kitchen. There are no partitions in this room either and, even though everything looks outdated and used, it’s all meticulously clean.

From end to end, the floor is covered in large, white tiles, without any rugs. The opposite wall from where we’re standing is actually a flat kitchen, with a row of white cupboards, a white countertop and white appliances, all lined up, like clean and ready soldiers.

Sean and Garrett take a seat at the tiny card table in the middle of the floor and the seat I slide into faces the only other furniture in the room. A black futon and a ragged, leather chair are at the far end, ten feet away from a darkened opening to a staircase and a corridor that leads somewhere I haven’t been.

Nok is standing in front of the stove, scooping some kind of bright vegetable dish out of a steaming pot. He looks over his shoulder, smiles, and goes back to loading a plate, but the idea of him listening to everything I’m thinking sends a jagged shot of panic zipping through me again.