SWNOVELS Chapter There's no recipe for hapiness.
His musing cost him a jab in the ribs. He blinked as Bobby pushed his sneering face in front of him. “I heard about your little stunt, greenhorn. Now you think you’re something special, don’t you?”
Rafael suppressed a sigh. This particular species of beasts had slipped his mind. He fixed his eyes on a point behind Bobby’s shoulder and changed his expression to one of surprise. As soon as the bewildered guy turned around to see what was going on behind him, Rafael skirted around and joined his friends. Poppina, who had witnessed the little scene, lifted an eyebrow, causing Rafael to shake his head. No need to waste mind share on a bully.
They stepped in Ms. Pepper’s classroom, and Rafael smiled at the homey atmosphere. Generous windows offered a panoramic view of Centisom’s gardens, while sturdy shelves running from wall to wall held an impressive quantity of stones of all sorts. The large room was divided into bays that opened to a barren circular area, and the trainees formed groups in the bays. Poppina dragged him by the arm, and soon, he took place on a slim, colorful couch next to a wooden worktable, eager to start.
To Rafael’s relief, most faces in his group were familiar.
A hush fell over the crowd when Ms. Pepper entered. She was wearing another of her multicolored skirts, and Rafael could have sworn he heard all the stones sigh in joy.
“Seems to me the competition is on,” Maddox whispered in his ear.
At a loss, he threw a questioning look at Poppina. She moved her lips without speaking.
“Socks and steam?”
She shook in a fit of silent giggles, and repeated the motion, this time with a slight whisper.
“Soccer teams!” Rafael finally got it.
Ms. Pepper approached with her hands full of minerals. “Who plays soccer here?” she asked while laying the stones on the table.
“Most of us, Ms. Pepper. Poppina is organizing a competition. It’ll take place around mid-term,” Maddox said.
“That’s a great idea. Soccer is a big deal in my home country. Let me know if I can help in any way,” the teacher offered with a smile.
That made it official: Rafael approved of Ms. Pepper.
As the teacher moved to the adjacent bay, Rafael observed what was going on in the other bays and understood what Maddox and Poppina meant: The groups were carbon copies of the soccer teams. Cool.
He noticed that while soccer teammates were bantering with great enthusiasm, the kids in the non-soccer groups weren’t interacting as freely. In Rafael’s eyes, the comradery made soccer even more beautiful.
After setting up, Ms. Pepper clapped her hands once to demand attention. “Welcome to Healing class. It’s not the most glamorous use of your magical gifts, but you’ll find it’s one of the most satisfying.”
A hand shot up. “Yes, Grace?”
“What exactly do we need to heal?” the short, chubby girl asked in a melodious voice.
Rafael wondered why he hadn’t noticed her earlier since she was sitting right next to him. He gazed at her extraordinary moss-green eyes, fringed with thick black lashes… her dark and gloomy look… her confident poise… until Poppina pinched him in the side and whispered an exasperated, “Rafael.”
“That’s a great question, Grace,” Ms. Pepper said, as she paced. “Healing occurs naturally, but in severe trauma cases, we enhance and accelerate the process. That is why our support is crucial,” she concluded. “All right. Now I want each of you to pick up one of the stones.”
Rafael grabbed a drab looking one. It was weighty – for a rock he could fit in his fist.
“Now close your eyes and take a deep breath. Let your body relax and allow your mind to wander.”
Rafael sighed. Of course, the small aches and itches infested his body as soon as she said to relax. He shifted in his seat and took a deep breath. Escape depended on his success with the stones.
“Direct a small trickle of your attention to your stone, think of how it feels,” she went on in a monotone voice. She circled from group to group, speaking in a slow, quiet rhythm.
Soft gasps rose from his classmates. Still, Rafael couldn’t feel anything other than the warm weight in his hand.
Ms. Pepper provided more stones to work with, but stone reading wasn’t Rafael’s forte. Unlike some of the other trainees, he couldn’t identify any of the rock’s magical properties. The frustrating minerals just didn’t speak to him. Poppina didn’t have any success either. They soon gave up their efforts to admire Maddox, who was connecting to the stones with smooth ease.
“Huhu,” Maddox said, “you’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” He caressed the amber stone with one finger. “You’re also a nice one, aren’t you? You’re good for stomach trouble, good for infants, good for digestion,” he purred.
Next, they picked up a clear crystal in a pretty shade of blue.
“Oh, you’re a transition crystal, aren’t you?” Maddox murmured as soon as he touched it.
“Excellent, Maddox. That one is called transition crystal, or in short, a Transcry” Ms. Pepper beamed.
Rafael’s heart missed a beat. His fingers closed over the crystal in his hand. “So, how does it work?”
Maddox’s eyebrows scrunched. “I think Transcrys need to be activated...”
“That’s right,” the teacher replied. “Like all stones and crystals, they require an energy prompt to activate. That will be the object of our next lesson.”
As the class emptied, Rafael slid the Transcry into his pocket. He was dismayed that he had the key to freedom but didn’t know how to use it.
He would train until it worked.
The crystal burned a hole in Rafael’s pocket as he attended the next classes. He couldn’t concentrate on Mr. Dowotski’s explanations, and even the teacher’s funny Manifestation tales were lost on him.
Maddox and Kiano’s gifts in Manifestation were weak, while Poppina couldn’t manifest at all.
“Well, that sucks. Twice zero talent,” Poppina said.
Judging by her upbeat tone, she wasn’t as disheartened as her wording hinted. Rafael was bemused by her enthusiasm until he saw her dreamy smile fade, and her eyes narrow when Mr. Dowotski praised Grace. Ah, that. He had forgotten Poppina’s fascination with the teacher.
Fighting boredom, Rafael’s mind wandered back to the crystal in his pocket. The stealing business left a bad taste in his mouth. But it was a step toward freedom, and he felt justified to do everything in his power to escape.
Maybe he wasn’t quite a prisoner, but he still wasn’t operating on his own volition here.
After the last class, Rafael made a beeline for his room and stowed the Transcry away inside the belly of his stuffed rabbit. He had left Poppina and Maddox before lunch, claiming that he didn’t want to spoil his meal with Bobby’s animosity and the other kids’ nosiness about the creatures’ attack. It was only partly true.
He proceeded to the next archway and studied the map while munching on the sandwich he had retrieved from a nearby food nook. After throwing his garbage back into the niche, he hefted his backpack on one shoulder and followed the magic arrows. They took him in a direction opposite the trainees’ usual haunts. Good.
Centisom’s snowflake layout was a maze, and the twisted corridors went on and on. The further he went, the more ancient the building became, and soon, his steps echoed on worn-down tiles. The air he breathed tasted stale as though the wing hadn’t been inhabited for many years. Still, he couldn’t detect any dust. It made him think all but the housekeeper had forgotten this area. Even better.
His steps slowed down as he took in the hushed atmosphere of his surroundings. He felt a weight lift from his heart, perhaps a spot of darkness dissipate. For the first time since his arrival, peace trickled into his mind.
Though the place was vast, its stillness and muffled lighting reminded him of the makeshift refuge he had constructed with broomsticks and blankets in the corner of his room back home. He often escaped there to decompress when he felt overwhelmed by people’s needs and emotions.
“Whenever you need a break from the world, just slip in there and breathe,” his mum had said.
He had decided people were mostly crazy. They dumped their emotional baggage on other people at random, not realizing they were hurting someone else to feel better. People like Leon and Bobby, to be exact. He didn’t want to be like them and was thankful his therapist taught him how to handle his own overload.
After a few cleansing breaths, he felt his mood lift. On impulse, he opened some doors and took a quick look inside. Most were empty but for the lone furniture. He wondered what happened to the previous occupants.
Dismissing the nagging feeling that he was overlooking something, he reached his destination at last.
Great. The arrows stopped in front of a bland wall tucked between two archways. Rafael examined the space, willing to trust Centisom’s direction. Passing his hand over the smooth wall, he tried to discern a structure. Nothing. Well, that was disappointing.
Tilting his head back, he blew out a frustrated breath. But wait, something in the upper right-hand corner of the wall looked odd. Stretching on the balls of his feet, he hugged the wall to lengthen his reach. A sudden sting at his right hip made him spring back in reflex. Eyeing the wall with distrust, he plunged his hand into his pocket to cover the smarting area. His fingers bumped against the still-hot metal of his coin. Weird. Disgruntled, he was about to storm away when a quiet click broke the silence.
A portion of the wall shifted back and created an opening. He stood in wonder, the pain in his hip fading fast in the face of the unknown. Taking hold of his courage, he stepped into the dim space and breathed in awe.
There he was, per his request, in Centisom’s most secluded place.
Medeor was on his way to an early dinner when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. He smiled. Teenagers were messy little rebels, and at times, exasperating, but also open-minded, curious, and creative. For the length of their stay, they were under his protection, and brought joy within Centisom’s walls – and in his life.
Wearing a stern expression, he turned toward the sound and waited for a young resident to sweep around the corner.
“Rafael.”
Skidding to a stop, Rafael offered him a quick, shaky smile. “Oh, hello, Mr. Demetriu.” Noticing the Headmaster’s austere expression, he took a slow step back. “I didn’t see you. I’m sorry!”
Restraining his mirth, Medeor relaxed his frown. “Please walk at a safe pace within these walls. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Uh, I forgot the time, and I’m on my way to a lesson with Mr. Dowotski.”
“Ah, very well. Then we should be on our way, shouldn’t we?” He turned, directing his steps toward Manifestation Hall. “By the way, what were you doing so far from the trainees’ wing?” he inquired, eyeing the backpack.
Rafael flushed. “The others would want to talk about yesterday, and...”
“You’re not up to the hassle,” Medeor finished for the contrite boy. “Understandable,” he added, “but not wise. You can’t solve problems by running away from them.”
He noticed Rafael flinch out of the corner of his eye and stopped to face him.
“See, Rafael, by now, the stories are running rampant. That’s human nature: What people don’t know, they invent.” He hesitated for a moment but decided to give a piece of advice, because Rafael was different, and in his book, different meant complications were just waiting to happen. “I understand it’s a tough spot for you. But in the future, I advise you to meet issues head-on. Don’t let others tell your story; it always comes out wrong, okay?”
He squeezed the boy’s slumped shoulders and resumed his walk. “Look, we’re almost there.”
Rafael sent him a pleading look. “I just hate trouble.”
Medeor chuckled. “Rafael, our ability to solve problems is what puts us, humans, on top of the food chain. Sometimes I wonder if we create problems just to remind ourselves of that.”
Satisfied by the flash of humor on the boy’s face, he left him at Niklas’s doorstep.
Of course, it didn’t escape his notice that Rafael never told him where he was coming from or what he had been doing so far from the trainees’ wing. Nothing he’d have to penalize at some point down the line, he hoped.
Routine had settled in by the end of the week. Rafael spent a great deal of time with Maddox and Poppina, often accompanied by Kiano. Mr. Demetriu had declared the sprawling sports park – thanks to the creatures’ attack – off-limits, except for a small, guarded section that wasn’t adequate for soccer. The trainees occupied themselves by exploring the mansion, not to mention completing their assignments.
Poppina discovered an affinity for Dreamlings, and Kiano seemed to have a green thumb. Centisom assigned her to Nurture, and him to Maintain section, along with Bobby.
Grace found him after the last period of the week. “Hey, Rafael!”
He turned, surprised to find her black-rimmed, green gaze set on him. “Yeah?”
“Don’t you think it would make sense if we trained together? Seeing that Manifestation is our primary gift. I thought it’d be more fun together!”
“Yes?” he shot back a little too fast, turning swiftly to hide the blush threatening his dignity.
“See you later, then,” he called out over his shoulder, attempting a cool stride.
Judging by Poppina’s muffled laughter, he hadn’t succeeded.
“I’ll say only one word: Poppiklas,” Rafel jabbed.
“You won’t dare!”
“I just did.” He stuck his tongue out for good measure.
Poppina had joined him during his last lesson with Mr. Dowotski, pretending she needed the practice to coerce out her non-existent power. She had yet to produce a speck of dust but did a lot of blushing under the teacher’s careful supervision.
“Grafael!” she hissed back at him.
“Children stop hurting my ears,” Maddox complained. “Or make it worth my while. Like Nikpina, or Raface.”
The banter continued as they made their way to their new favorite place to regroup, the room they had discovered after the Media Room fiasco. Somehow, word had gotten out that Centisom provided sweets, snacks, and sodas, and now kids were popping in at random, and to Rafael’s astonishment, most of them proved to be easygoing and funny.
They all missed home to a degree but were excited to become Guardians – an enthusiasm Rafael didn’t share. Apparently, most knew from their family what was awaiting them in Centisom and had been looking forward to it. The rest of them was thrilled they had magical powers. Centisom chose his Guardians well, indeed.
Even though he never let himself forget that he was on borrowed time, their friendship was a nice change from his painful past.
It was okay to enjoy it for now, wasn’t it?
“We have to find out who has the tablet,” Poppina said from the couch, her feet propped up on the low table. “I’m fed up with looking at walls. I want to see the sky and flowers.”
Rafael agreed wholeheartedly.
They had managed to clear the room away and were plotting their next steps. Up to now, their investigation had failed to produce any result because the gaming device – they had shortened it to “tablet” – sporting the cryptic initials T.P.O.D. was nowhere to be found.
“We left the tablet in Media Room, somebody must have seen who took it,” Maddox noted.
“Not necessarily. Besides, we can’t ask around without raising suspicion. The best we can do is wait for the owner to come back to recharge it,” Kiano said, stuffing his face with the last remaining sweets.
“Yeah, and hopefully before this somebody unleashes the hellish creatures again,” Maddox added, his voice heavy with gloom and fear in equal measure.
“I don’t think it’s that bad. There hasn’t been another attack…” Rafael said, hearing the doubt in his own voice.
His mind drifted from the beasts’ attack to Bobby’s hateful behavior. He knew he couldn’t avoid the jerk’s sneaky attacks forever. He was becoming a pro at avoiding the guy, thanks to Centisom’s help, but – alas – his strategy didn’t work during class. To Poppina’s growing chagrin, he had to endure a daily earful of nastiness.
Poppina’s voice interrupted his dark thoughts. “I want to poke around in the program files,” she declared, her jaw set at a stubborn angle, “if only to find out what T.P.O.D. means.” It didn’t sit well with her inquisitive nature to let a mystery alone.
“True, we shouldn’t chance another encounter with the evil monsters. Once is enough for a lifetime,” Rafael agreed.
The evil creatures were worrisome.
The escalation potential regarding Bobby’s behavior even more so.
But it was nothing compared to the shocking secrets he had uncovered in his new secret room.
He had searched the ancient books for information about the Transcry, but what he discovered instead, is how Centisom shifted back and forth in time. The pocket dimension was activated when all doors to Dreamland were closed. These five doors in Gateway Hall were also portals to reach Dreamland.
Rafael relished every free moment of peace his secret chamber afforded. No one was the wiser since he pretended to be at Manifestation training when he was there. He even slept from time to time on the comfy chair inside, surrounded by dangerous books that harbored mind-blowing knowledge.
But while fascinating, none of it mattered, because he would be safely home soon.
Niklas guided the sharp shaving blade over his neck, never glancing away from his projection in the mirror. It wouldn’t do to meet Madlen with a nick on the throat. Now that he knew she wasn’t indifferent to him, he hoped to deepen their relationship. He planned to hang out in the kitchen, where she liked to dine.
“Mr. Dowotski.”
The booming voice shattered his happy thoughts. He cursed as the sharp blade sliced his skin. Reaching for a towel, he frowned at the smirking face that looked at him from within the mirror’s depth.
“I trust you’ll live,” the old man said, “it’s just a little scratch.”
Niklas let out a brisk breath. So much for his perfect look.
“I remind you we have but a few minutes. How is the child doing?”
Niklas put the towel aside and leaned forward. “He’s doing fine. There was an unfortunate incident, though. Unknown creatures attacked a group of trainees and Guardians on our grounds. The boy was there and reacted by using both of his powers. I think he shifted the area into a pocket dimension. It caused quite a ruckus.”
“Unknown creatures? Impossible!”
“Then maybe you should do a headcount, old man.” Niklas’s voice was cold.
“I ought to know that Nightterrors cannot reach Centisom. I engineered its protections, after all.”
“Let’s say you’re right, and your protections aren’t failing, like everything else these days. Then it leaves us with another set of problems.”
“Indeed. This changes things,” the old man said. His gaze darted to the right in alarm. “I’ll contact you soon.”
“Wait,” Niklas said, but it was too late. The old man’s blurry image was gone, leaving Niklas staring again at his own reflection.
His good mood had evaporated. He looked straight into his own eyes. “What I am supposed to do now? I don’t even know how to train the boy.”
Grabbing another towel, he wiped off the rest of the shaving foam, mentally chastising himself. Education was the key. If he pushed Rafael to develop his Manifestation gift, it would help him distinguish his other gift. In theory, at least.
For the hundredth time, he cursed the messed-up situation. He understood why he, rather than Medeor, had to be the old man’s insider. And he knew why he had to keep quiet about it. But he hated keeping secrets from Medeor, and he wasn’t sure their friendship could weather a betrayal.
Rafael took a hard right, skidded to a halt in front of his door, slid inside his room, and slammed the door behind him – just in time to push back the pursuer’s outstretched fingers. Centisom engaged the shiny new lock that hadn’t been there when he left his room earlier.
His back against the door, he waited until the insults stopped and swept an angry tear away.
Bobby and his crew were getting more aggressive by the day. They had even found a way to glue him to his chair during Mr. Zhou’s class. He learned the hard way that dissolving existing matter was much harder than dissolving his own manifestations.
He needed fresh air. And space. When he opened his window, a patrolling Guardian waved, and Rafael waved back. All exits were guarded.
All exits, but… what about the windows of the forgotten wing?
A short while later, he was in his secret room. As he had assumed, that side of the mansion wasn’t guarded, and no one noticed him manifesting a ladder and climbing down.
When his feet touched the soil, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the low light. Stillness and an endless supply of fresh air surrounded him. He took a reinvigorating breath and smiled.
He needed to get moving, but hesitated. Although he didn’t see any lights or moon, and the night wasn’t pitch black at Centisom, it was still dark enough for the ugly creatures to hide in the shadows.
Of course, he could manifest an electrical shield in a pinch if needed. He had already fought the monsters once and won, after all. He glanced back at the mansion and a surprised chuckle escaped him when he realized he was more upset about Bobby’s spiteful behavior than fearful of the hideous creatures.
Soon, his wild beating heart had calmed, and he set off to his destination, losing himself in the rhythm of his steps and visions of home, sweet home.
Burning disappointment met utter enchantment when he reached Centisom’s boundary.
He had hoped for a way to slip out, had even half-convinced himself that the time thing was an elaborate lie to keep trainees compliant. But it wasn’t the case.
The transparent border wall in front of him was flexible, but no amount of effort could pierce it. It looked similar to the protective barrier he had manifested to protect his friends but thicker, sturdier, and void of electricity.
However, the wall wasn’t his biggest problem. The drop was. Centisom was a freaking floating island high up above Dreamland. He would need wings if he didn’t want to plummet to his death. And even if he succeeded at sneaking out while the Headmaster opened the doors to let Guardians pass through, Dreamland wasn’t his destination. Home was.
He leaned his forehead against the barrier, swallowing a sob. Escape would have to wait. At least, the breathtaking view was worth the trip.
Dreamland was a lush paradise with rolling hills, deep blue bodies of water, endless trees of every shape and shade of green, and a copious number of blue-green, circular areas. He even spotted a bird frozen in mid-flight, due to the time stop. And best of all, not a single speck of civilization.
“It’s inspiring, isn’t it?”
Rafael jumped at the intrusion. Ms. Renvoizé appeared next to him and poked a finger into the invisible membrane. “Dreamland. An uncorrupted oasis worthy of the pure souls it shelters night after night.”
He kept quiet, fearing a scolding for his escapade. She glanced at him and sat down on the ground. “Relax, Rafael. I won’t tell anyone. You look like you needed the fresh air. Don’t kid yourself, I see what happens in my classes. I understand the need to get away from the idiots.” She patted the grass next to her. “Sit.”
He complied, amazed by her friendliness.
“I don’t know how to make the hassle stop,” he blurted out and cringed when he heard his own plaintive tone.
She shook her head. “There’s no recipe for happiness, Rafael. People are difficult. The best you can do is hold on until the storm passes.” She spread her hands. “Look at Dreamland. It’s pristine. But put two humans in there, and it will be ruined in no time.”
She draped her arm around his shoulders and gave a light squeeze. “You can’t remove the rot inside others, but you can take measures to prevent it from infecting you.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
She nodded. “Look at this amazing view. Allow it to put some joy back in your heart. Do you know what you are looking at?”
He didn’t – and listened in awe as she unfolded the wonders of Dreamland.
That night, back in the mansion, he lay awake for a while, thinking about his escape plans. His efforts to work with the Transcry were still unsuccessful while all of his classmates had, at least, managed to link with their crystal.
It was maddening he was the odd one, the outsider, again.
“This isn’t ideal.”
Poppina snorted in reaction to Rafael’s dry, ironical tone. “I know. I guess I might have underestimated the consequences when I suggested a tournament.”
Rafael stood at the sideline of his beloved soccer field, watching the chaos in dismay. He didn’t know what was more troubling: the neon-colored soccer uniforms – a sly effort from Centisom to outfit the teams in happy colors – or that the place had turned into a circus.
After a week without a single monster sighting, the Headmaster had reopened the sports park, and the place was full to the brim. Teachers, trainees, and myriad new faces milled around everywhere, while watchful Guardians patrolled the field. Heck, even a bunch of Dreamlings had gathered at the far corner of the area.
So much for focused practice time.
He spun back to Poppina. “How are we going to train with all... this? Any idea?”
Maddox walked up with Ms. Pepper and Mr. Dowotski – who was clad in an obnoxious shade of purple – in tow. He gave them a cheery wave. “Hey guys, guess who’s here?” he asked in a smug tone.
Rafael’s mood soured by the minute. The real question should be, who wasn’t there?
“A tournament is such a wonderful idea,” Ms. Pepper enthused. “As I mentioned, we love our soccer back in the U.K., and ah, I might have mentioned your effort during the staff meeting.” Her smile widened. “I hope you don’t mind if some Guardians join in. They relish the occasion to have fun, and it will provide a great opportunity for you to meet and mingle.”
“Really? That’s fabulous!” Poppina squealed in delight.
“That’s all great,” Rafael said, “but how are we going to practice with all the chaos?”
He felt sorry when her happy expression fell.
“We’ve got it covered,” The Headmaster’s voice announced from behind Rafael. He gave Rafael’s shoulder a comforting pat. “We set up a schedule so all teams will have ample time to train. However, in light of recent events, we’ve assigned a Guardian to protect each team.”
“We all look forward to it,” Ms. Pepper said, glowing with joy. “It’s been a long time since we had some healthy entertainment.”
All in all, it wasn’t a bad idea, Rafael mused. “Who will be assigned to us?”
“Me,” said the dark-skinned, athletic young man, who had arrived with the Headmaster. He flashed a friendly smile. “I saw you guys play last week, so I asked to be assigned to your team. I’m Vivek, by the way.” He turned to Poppina. “I’m an experienced coach. If you don’t mind, I’d love to double as your trainer. You’ve got great potential, trust me–”
“Don’t be shy, Vivek,” Mr. Dowotski cut in, his words heavy with sarcasm. “Your soccer skills won’t be enough to beat this old man,” he laughed, slapping his chest with one fist.
“With an emphasis on the word old,” Vivek countered with a grin.
“Ah, the optimism of youth,” Mr. Dowotski chortled with scheming eyes. “Might you be interested in a friendly wager?”
Rafael ignored their banter and turned back to Mr. Demetriu. “But the Guardians are bigger and older. How is that fair?”
“We’ve got that covered as well. You’ll compete in two categories: Guardians and trainees.”
Rafael was unhappy. The whole thing was turning into a big mess. He remembered the contests back home: people all over the place, food, unattended children. And an idea struck him.
“If we’re going to do this right, we need to have a big barbecue and a party afterward,” he said.
Poppina looked at him in disgruntlement. “You’re right. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”
Mr. Dowotski nodded in approval, and Ms. Pepper motioned for Ms. Renvoizé to join them. “Would you mind organizing the event, Elvina?” she asked. “We need bleachers for the spectators, a barbecue-style party, music, and so on. Are you up to it?”
The brown-eyed woman grinned in delight. “That’s right up my alley, Madlen. I might be untalented at playing soccer, but I can definitely make a party rock!” She sighed. “We’ve gone too long without proper fun here. Do you remember the Lone Night Dance back in our time?”
To Rafael’s bewilderment, the teachers giggled in glee while the Headmaster blushed. Mr. Demetriu made a swift escape, and the women wandered off – still reminiscing the past – leaving Rafael, Maddox, and Poppina alone.
“I wonder which color Centisom picked for us,” Maddox wondered aloud, staring in dread at Mr. Dowotski’s purple attire.
The booming voice of the Headmaster brought the crowd to a hush. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Our dear Guardians and trainees love to compete in the fine tradition of soccer.” He paused to wait for the cheers to abate. “Hence we will be hosting a tournament for them to compete at mid-term. After the competition, there will be a celebration.” Another round of applause. “Players, to ensure your safety, you’ll train in scheduled time slots and always be accompanied by your respective Guardian. All trainers, please step forward.”
A short time later, Vivek came back with a schedule and a box of neon green uniforms.
“Oh dear,” Poppina whined, “I’m going to look like a little Grinch!”
Six weeks, Rafael thought, pulling up his legs and setting his chin on his knees. Six weeks of intensive training, and he was still in Centisom.
He was sitting on the stone windowsill in his secret chamber, trying to figure out how he hadn’t noticed that time was flying by.
He had realized how long he’d been at Centisom that very morning. The friendly entity had refused to open his door until he watered his miniature tree. He had looked in mourning at his Maintain assignment and wondered why the plant refused to sprout a single leaf although he had followed Mr. Demetriu’s instructions to the letter. After four weeks of pampering, it should at least show some buds…
And it hit him: Four. Weeks.
Between Mr. Dowotski’s determination to help him realize his full potential in Manifestation and Vivek’s ambition to win the soccer tournament, his training sessions were intense and time-consuming, and he had lost focus on escaping. He hadn’t realized how fast time was flying by.
He tilted his head up, trying to catch the last warmth of the day on his face. Try as he might, he knew he wouldn’t find the fiery star in the sky. Daylight without a sun. It was such a strange place that he was beginning to call home.
It was time to get refocused on escape. Forty-two days and he still couldn’t figure out how to link with the Transcry. Without that precious link, he couldn’t activate it. He sighed as he recalled his futile efforts. Even Ms. Pepper was baffled by his lack of progress.
To help him along, she insisted they meet for one-on-one sessions. Though the extra work didn’t improve his skills, he had come to treasure the time they spent together. She was patient, kind, and funny, all he could wish from a teacher.
He tried to ignore the knot in his stomach that came every time he had the unbidden thought that he may never find his way home, let alone escape – if the Transcry wouldn’t cooperate. He shook himself. No need to go to that dark place yet. There was still hope.
Pocketing his lucky coin, he hopped back into his secret lair. Despite the lingering sadness in his heart, a smile tugged at his lips when he trailed his finger on the ancient book’s back covers.
Ah, the beauty of irony. He had mastered Centisom’s fast-reading technique in a pinch, sending Mr. Zhou into indignant disbelief. Rafael’s effortless success had been a quiet victory: Crack the book open, create a connection, and let the content download into your brain. Neat trick, and a sorely needed one to navigate Infinite Library, where all of humankind’s knowledge lived and was absorbed night after night.
However, all of humankind’s knowledge didn’t equate with all-knowing. The books in his secret room were proof of that.
Despite Mr. Zhou’s sarcastic barbs and Bobby’s relentless hostility, overall, he felt okay. He wasn’t happy, but he had grown a circle of acquaintances and enjoyed spending time with Maddox, Kiano, and Poppina. She was still determined to solve the T.P.O.D. mystery – when she wasn’t busy stalking Mr. Dowotski.
Every night, he checked the picture of him and his mum. It changed every time Centisom deactivated the pocket dimension to let Guardians come and go. The image of her holding his limp hand no longer evoked heart-wrenching pain as it did when he first arrived.
His smile slipped when he realized that he was adjusting to his new life… and that might not be a good thing.