Insurrection Chapter 1

Everything has changed.

I don’t like change. Especially when it comes with so much attention.

Drake reclines back on his bed in his cramped little apartment, hands folded behind his head on the pillow. “I still don’t understand why you would choose the floor here instead of a bed in your apartment.”

I moved out of the Minister’s house after the incident at the temple. The invasion in the Garraty home became too much for me. The acolytes took Mr. Garraty somewhere deep in the temple’s belly. I hate admitting that I haven’t had the courage to confront him. After everything I suffered at his hands, I’m still terrified of him. How much can I trust him, let alone trust his acolytes not to turn against me? I considered asking to move him somewhere else—somewhere I can monitor him. But that would require talking to him, seeing him.

I’m a coward. I know it. My reasons for avoiding him are entirely selfish. Not only do I fear what power he may still hold within the temple, but the thought that he might blame me for his daughter’s death, even if it was his fault, haunts me. I may not have loved Pippen, but I cared about her. Would Mr. Garraty blame me for what happened to her? I would be a fool to think he wouldn’t be at least a little justified. My arrival here, and my Powers, made me a target. After I rejected her advances, she volunteered for the horrible experiment. If I hadn’t rejected her, would she still be alive? She would be if I had never come here. I know that for certain. While Mr. Garraty is responsible for the experiment that killed her, he certainly could blame me for creating the series of events that took her life.

Mrs. Garraty has been lost in grief over her daughter’s death and her husband’s imprisonment. The acolytes still won’t let her see him in his cell somewhere below the temple.

Looking at her fills me with shame, so I avoid her. The words she said to me as I moved out of their apartment—a spoken verse from the Book of the Prophet—still haunt me. “Loved ones will be broken, their faith deceived by dark spirits.”

I roll on my side. For the past couple of nights, I’ve slept on Drake’s floor. “My new apartment is big, empty, and lonely,” I reply.

The new place is bigger than I deserve or need. It’s one of the largest in the Haven. For over a week, I’ve avoided the new accommodations. The space is just too much. It has a massive living room with a full kitchen, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms. I hate it.

Drake pops up, grinning down at me. “Well then, we have a simple solution.”

“What’s that?” I love that grin.

“I move in.”

My stomach flips madly. My cheeks heat. I hope he can’t tell. “Move in.” I feel like an idiot, parroting his words back to him, but I’m too stunned to formulate a response.

“Sure.” He shrugs. “There are three rooms, right? Let’s get my stuff together and I’ll move into one of the spares.”

Excitement mingles with terror and disappointment. The idea of having Drake living in the same space fills me with a thrill, but at the same time, I don’t want him in a spare room. The proximity will be a sure test of my will. Until he makes it clear what he wants from me, if anything, I can’t make a move. Not that I would know what to do.

That settles the matter, though. I don’t have the courage to question his suggestion aloud, nor make any other suggestions. So, we do as he suggests and gather his belongings. It doesn’t take long before we are in my apartment, parting ways at our doors. When I close myself in my bedroom, I lean against the door and press my face into my hands.

I’m such a coward.

***

It only takes another four days for Emil to join us, taking up residence in the third bedroom. For my protection, he says.

Ever since the incident at the temple, I’ve hardly had a moment to myself. Guardians lurk in my shadow. At first, I found their prowling unnerving. Why are they following my every move? What do they think I will do? Are they preparing to strike out against me?

But as the surge of Havenites congregates outside of my apartment and trails my every move around the halls with disturbing reverence, I swiftly realize the Guardians are protecting me from the Havenites, not spying on me or preparing to attack.

Acolytes flood my apartment with offerings. Trinkets from a world long lost. Baskets of food in all varieties. Trays of dinners and breakfast feasts the likes of which no one else in the Haven sees. I suspect that Emil only moved in to get access to the food.

I don’t leave the apartment often. The crowds overwhelm me. Everyone wants something from me. Everything from petitions for new apartments for larger families to a simple touch—like a blessing. It makes my skin crawl that they think touching their hand or arm will make any difference in their lives.

I’m also avoiding the Elders. They have sent several requests to meet, but I’ve found excuses to worm my way out of all of them. Again, I’m too much of a coward to face the very people who tried to burn me alive—who did burn me alive. I should be furious with them, want to bring my wrath down upon their heads. That’s what Paige would do. But that isn’t me. No, unlike Paige, Gavin Powers hides in his comfort zone and avoids conflict.

Like every morning, I open the door to pull in the gifts and food left outside my door. Wreaths and bouquets of flowers line either wall outside the door like a shrine to someone missing or deceased. The lights flicker, as they often do. A small push of my Power steadies the glow. A few people linger near the door, their jaws dropping in awe at my small display of strength. It makes me uneasy.

I retrieve a basket of fruit and kick the door shut without a word, eager to cut myself off from enthusiastic faces. What I just did would be ordinary in Elpis. I wonder what these people would think of my home. What would they say about all the forbidden technology?

Drake shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He enjoys sleeping in. I’m usually showered and ready for the day before he even stirs. Something about his pallor today is different. Wrong. A sickly pale green.

He reaches for an apple—something they apparently can grow in abundance here. I make note of the tremble in his hand. When he takes a bite, I study him. It takes far too much effort to carry out such a simple task. He even chews it slower.

“You feeling alright?” I ask, setting the basket on the countertop.

Drake grunts. I’m uncertain what to make of the response.

Then he collapses on the floor, shaking like he’s having a seizure.

“Drake!” I rush around the counter to his side, too slow to break his fall.

Drake’s head hits the concrete floor. His eyes roll back in his head. Every part of me trembles. What is wrong with him? I roll him on his side, afraid he’s about to choke on his own saliva, and make sure his airway is open.

Emil steps out, asking about the commotion. When he sees Drake, he pales.

“What do we do?” I ask, too panicked to think straight. “He was pale this morning, then he collapsed completely.”

Emil rushes over, nudging me out of the way. I don’t fight him. The terror in me overwhelms logic. I can’t lose him. Drake is the only thing keeping me sane.

As Emil checks Drake’s vitals, I pick up the apple rolling across the floor and sniff at it. But it smells like an apple. I don’t even know what I’m thinking. Drake didn’t look good from the moment he stepped out his door. It isn’t poison.

Emil curses under his breath. “Something is draining him.” He’s shaking, too.

Draining…? My gut sinks. I riffle through the baskets on the counter and uncover not one, but four different Power stones in various baskets, buried beneath the food. Is someone hoping to incapacitate me with these again? I learned my lesson the first time and know how to protect myself from them now.

Gingerly, I gather the four small stones in a fist, wrapping my Power around them to protect myself and, hopefully, Drake and Emil too.

This isn’t the first time acolytes have left Power stones outside my door. It’s the tenth. How many do they have? I’ve destroyed all of them. These stones are too dangerous to leave lying around. Drake’s reaction is precisely why.

Are the acolytes trying to hurt me? Is someone else? Or is this a test to see if I can do what I did in the temple that horrifying day—to destroy them with my bare hands?

Regardless of the intentions toward me, the proximity effect these stones have on Havenites with Powers is dangerous.

Anger builds in my heart, spreading through my body with each thump of my heartbeat until the ferocity of it makes me tremble. I clutch the stones in my fist and storm toward the door.

“I will take care of this,” I growl. “Help him. Get a doctor if you need to.”

Emil knows what to do. Drake is in excellent hands. But unless I put a stop to this, they could suffer much worse.

Hiding is no longer an option. Not if it puts the lives of those I care about at risk. Whether or not I like it, it’s time to step forward and wield whatever measly sense of power these people give me.

And it starts with these acolytes and their twisted sense of purpose.