Powerless Revision 1 (6 page)

But the building hadn’t left as memorable an impression as something else. “Two students were there, a boy and a girl, and we talked for a few minutes. I just realized that’s the first time I’ve ever spoken to anyone my own age.”

Kevin searched her face for clues to how she felt about this. But she kept her face free from any significant expression. “How were they?” he asked.

“The girl had a very big temper for how small she is. And the boy? Well, I think it would be difficult for me to like him more than he likes himself.”

“I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends in the class even if those two aren’t a perfect match for you,” he said.

They walked along in silence for a while, each pondering the experiences they just had. Mira only posed another question when they had just reached their home.

“Dad, what’s the Tournament Trial?”

Kevin’s eyes widened and then he winced.

“In each school year, all of the students are pitted against each other three times. The first and the last are to decide class rank. You’ll have to beat the others in special contests to demonstrate your ability and aptitude. Having a good class rank is very important to a student,” he said, almost in fear of his own words.

The image of massive boulders crashing together came to Mira’s mind, and her mouth went dry.

“Oh.”

Long after Mira and Jeana had fallen asleep, Kevin silently snuck out of the house and slipped into the blustery and turbulent night. Clouds raced overhead, waiting for the right moment to expel their watery store. A bright moon peeked through, giving everything a fleeting illumination.

Hidden beneath a dark cloak, he crept along the side of his house, keeping his ears open and his eyes vigilant. The mist in the air solidified in front of him, and Kevin stepped on to the dense platform and let it carry him into the air. The wind raced around him as he floated over the treetops on his way down to the outpost. When he descended near the large gate, the mist dissipated just in time for him to step onto the ground.

Kevin ran along the wall away from the forest to a small shed hidden around the corner. As soon as he closed the door behind him, a heavy rain broke from the clouds, clacking against the shed’s tin roof and washing under the walls onto the dirt floor.

Striking a match softened the shed’s darkness. Its flickering light revealed the cramped space he inhabited, containing a few broken tools and some rope along with a metal sheet on the floor. The sheet, Kevin knew, sealed the passageway through which he needed to pass.

Before the match diminished, Kevin spoke clearly and confidently to the dying light. “My name is Kevin Ipswich. I have business with Corey. Whither does my voice travel?”

Having followed the instructions he’d received, he waited for what would come next. The rattling rain on the roof drowned out any other sound. A rumbling, emanating sound escaped from below him. He kneeled down to listen.

“A key above the door.” The voice sounded hoarse and raspy but unmistakable. Without lighting another match, Kevin groped above the entryway in darkness. His hands ran over the moistened wood and up to the gritty metal. Pawing at a small pouch tucked up above, he felt the key dance between his fingers as gravity sucked it down to the floor.

Chasing after the slight clink with his hands, he brushed over the ground for the key. Just as he felt the silliness of his posture and considered lighting another match, his fingers felt the key and he took hold of it. Within moments the metal sheet and its lock leaned against the wall.

Knowing one end of the rope firmly held an iron bar attached to the outpost’s exterior, Kevin tossed the coil down the hole. Grabbing hold of the section near the surface, he slowly lowered himself down, feeling uneasy about the wet rope, the water trickling from above, and the slick surface he placed his feet on.

Dreading that he would slip, his feet lost their hold on the wall and he dangled in the middle of a dark tunnel, the depth of which he did not know. At once resolved that this danger was entirely unnecessary, Kevin rested his feet on a cloud that had condensed in the tunnel under his feet. Feeling much more at home, he descended slowly, until he felt the floor beneath him.

In utter darkness, he spun around looking for a light to guide him. Only perfect darkness revealed itself. Having given up hope of finding the way himself, he asked for help.

“Turn ninety degrees to the left and walk for thirty paces.” The same voice, ruminating and echoing, seemed to come from all directions at once.

He followed the directions, and asked again, repeating the process countless times. Often the voice commanded him to turn sharply and walk only a few steps, making him wonder if he maneuvered through a large maze or foolishly wandered around in a great open space.

Soon he stopped walking with his hands in front of him. After several more commands, he closed his eyes. Taking a few more steps and noticing a sudden increase in temperature, Kevin opened his eyes and realized that the man he’d been searching for sat just a few feet away. The light from a small fire smoldered behind the seated man, who sat peacefully with a blindfold over his eyes. Looking behind him, Kevin saw that the chair blocked the light from entering the corridor.

“This is where your voice has traveled.” The old man said, wrinkling his face with a smile. Kevin had never been in the exclusive company of the elder before; he tried to match the man’s appearance with his revered reputation, the source of reason and knowledge that the entire community depended upon. But seeing the shriveled body before him somehow detracted from that.

“I’ve come about my daughter. She needs your permission to attend the academy,” Kevin said. The old man nodded his head, already in deep thought.

“If it had just been that, I would have had an assistant take care of you. But that’s not all you needed to discuss,” he said.

“That’s right. There’s something else—”

“Something more serious,” Corey added before returning to the beginning. “But I was surprised to hear about the daughter you’ve been hiding, and more so of her circumstances. I’ve heard her, you know. Her footsteps are hesitant and there is much fear and doubt tangled within the waves of her voice.”

His voice imitated Mira’s, and Kevin looked carefully at the man, listening to the heavy words that forcibly entered his ear. Assuming Kevin’s voice, the words Corey spoke haunted Kevin’s mind and drowned out his own thoughts.

“In a race, sound will always lose to light, but sound is much more vital to our existence. After all, we can create sound, but we can’t create light. Most people foolishly depend on light to tell them about the external appearance and the internal emotions of others, but sound is a much better indicator. I can recognize your daughter, Mira, without a doubt and clearly interpret her emotions from just a few words. And the same goes for you, Mr. Ipswich. Now tell me, why did you let your bird out of the cage?”

“Because she’s got a life to live, just like the rest of us. It’s not right for myself or Jeana to decide that she can’t find a place in the world, that she’s not good enough for it,” Kevin argued.

Corey again smiled, enjoying something that Kevin couldn’t see.

“And you want her to attend the academy too. What if she goes off to fight?” Kevin heard the playful tone of his wife’s voice.

“That will be a decision of her choosing. She needs this opportunity to socialize and learn about the world. You can’t deny her that. I don’t see how she could complete the Shadowing, but if she does decide to go with her classmates to fight then I can be proud of her for it.”

“Oh, but you know,” said Corey, darkly, and with an increasingly base voice. “Your voice tells me you know full well what would happen to her. You work preparing supplies for shipment to the front lines, but you’ve only heard of what goes on there. Words can’t describe the kind of bizarre chaos and insane carnage unleashed in the heat of battle. It’s something you must hear for yourself. I get the sense that the danger is coming closer to home than you would like.”

Kevin cleared his throat, chilled by what he’d just heard.

“Yes, that’s the other thing. Before we let her out, Mira said she saw a face in my vapor. I checked everywhere, and I couldn’t find evidence of anyone strange in the area, but I have this sneaking suspicion that someone was trying to get in.”

“You sound like a man who knows to be worried from experience. Am I right?”

Kevin, soundlessly, grimaced and looked away.

“Your silence speaks as loud as your words,” Corey went on. “So you think someone is out to get you, again, and so you put your treasure out in the open where anyone can get to it. Is that intelligent?”

“She’s safer away from Cloud Cottage than in it,” he said, defensively. “No one knows who she is or what she is or even where she’s from when she’s out in public. Being at school should especially put her out of harm’s reach. No one knows she exists so she can’t be the thing they seek.”

Corey carefully considered this, finally nodding his head.

“That’s true, for now. But how long do you think it will be until her secret gets out? If someone is targeting you, that means they’re after something. Maybe they don’t know where it is, but my guess is they will know it when they find it. You must be eternally vigilant and extra precautious.”

Kevin stepped forward, though the old man in his chair did not react at all.

“That I am aware of, but I’m hoping you can be more helpful than that. Mira said the face tried to speak. Did you hear what Mira heard? Do you know who it was?”

“There is too much out there for me to listen to everything at once. If I had already known this conversation would have taken place much sooner. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to help you now.”

At this, Corey reached into his robes and procured a small leather sack. Drawing it open, he removed a small stone the size of a pebble. He held it out in his hand, and Kevin took it. It felt smooth and soft to the touch.

“Did you know that people can identify the sound of their own name even in a crowded room with hundreds of talkers. We have a connection to our names and it’s something ingrained in us, in the blood. If I sense that an intruder has come, this stone will carry my voice to you, and you’ll know a moment of action stands before you. You can carry it with you, always, in the folds of your ear.”

Placing the stone above his ear canal, he found that its shape, like a grain of rice, held in place perfectly and did not rub or chafe.

“Thank you,” Kevin expressed his relief.

Kevin then handed Mira’s academy application form to the elder. Corey reached back toward the fire for a small brand and burned his mark onto the paper. Kevin felt dismayed at the prospect of leaving this man who could teach him so much, even though their business had concluded. He indulged himself in a single question.

“You are known as a great warrior, but I don’t understand how you fought. How did you defeat your enemies?”

Corey chuckled to himself.

“Mr. Ipswich, for being a fully grown man I would have expected you to be more capable of appraising the powers of another. Sound can carry the sweetest pleasure or the most terrible pain. You’re lucky if you’ve only known the former. I’ll do you a favor and skip the demonstration.”

“There is one other thing,” Kevin meekly posed, already chiding himself for his foolishness. “You must have a quicker way to get out of here than the way I came in.”

“Of course, of course. I’ve got better things to do than to walk you back anyway. There’s a ladder set into the wall behind the fire. It’ll bring you up to my office, and my assistant can let you into the courtyard. You’ll be able to float away from there.”

After conveying his deep appreciation and gratitude to Corey, Kevin took his leave, circling around the man and the fire, finding the grips in the stone wall and climbing up through the floor above him.

Kevin returned home not long after, though it was much longer before the sound of his own voice replaced that of Corey’s in his head.

***

In the days leading up to her first class, the specter of the Tournament Trial looming large in her mind, Mira meticulously prepared herself to be in the best possible position. She gathered some useful mathematical instruments, including a compass and a tape measure. Her new uniform, which she appreciated for both its style and its usefulness as active wear, lay neatly folded in her room. Additionally, she had been training her body for the physical demands she knew she would face.

The day before her first trip to Dustfalls Academy as a student, Mira worked away the minutes doing crunches in her home after completing an invigorating jog. Her parents flipped through some old books, and Mira thought this would be a good time to ask some questions that had been on her mind.

“So, do you have any idea what this teacher, Ogden Fortst, is like?”

Kevin looked up from his book and leaned back in his chair.

“I’ve only seen him a few times, but I’ve heard a little bit about him. Seems like an odd fellow, but I’m sure he’s smart or else they wouldn’t have him teaching the senior class. He sure wasn’t there when I attended.”