“Yeah,” said Dan. “Those happy carefree days before finals period began.”
“Did I miss the part where those days were happy and carefree?” I asked.
Cassie paused, considering. “If they wanted finals to be inspiring, they would have called them ‘beginnings.’” She thought for another second. “Or, ‘doorways to your future.’”
“Doesn’t quite have the same fear-inducing ring to it,” said Dan.
“But points for poeticism,” Ian called from behind the counter.
“Thanks,” she said brightly.
As if we weren’t already tense enough, it was finals week. Love the Bean was crowded with students chugging coffee like it was the elixir of life and studying; they were curled up in the overstuffed armchairs and huddled in groups around the various low coffee tables.
Meanwhile, I was having an identity crisis.
As I looked at the kids around me terrified of balancing chem equations, flipping out over the answer to X, and losing sleep over that quarter of a point between a 97 and a 98, I realized just how far my life had come in only half a year. My classmates were worried about integers and the key dates in World War I. I was worried about whether or not my visions of the future had adequately prepared me to stand my ground against the rival forces of fate and free will who threatened to destroy the world with their ancient battle by turning me into the greatest human weapon who ever lived.
Suddenly, precalc wasn’t looking so bad.
Yet even as I sat there, I knew that part of me was still clinging with all I had to my old life. Otherwise, why would I be sitting here with the rest of my friends, worried about keeping my GPA high enough so that I could get into the college of my dreams?
Because part of you doesn’t want to face the reality of what’s coming.
The stress was beginning to get to me.
Pete, the manager, had to hire another barista so that Ian could have some help. Ian divided his time into making double-shot, no-foam lattes; studying; and helping me figure out the answers to the final two pieces of the puzzle.
Where was James Harrison? Who was the shadowy fourth Rogue in my mother’s vision? I had tried to ask the box the night of the flood, but I was so exhausted, my power so spent, that the etching of the key didn’t even glow when I held it. It took me a few days to recover. But now I was ready.
Everything else seemed to be coming together. We had reunited Aunt Jo and Aaron Ward; Earth’s special and quirky ability to touch the sky with her mind was proving to be super useful; Cassie and Raven were finally beginning to make peace, however tentatively; we knew that the Order was planning to kick-start this battle to end all battles on prom night; and I was the most powerful I had ever been.
That night, I took my little wooden box back up to the roof, where the sky was a velvety black and the moon was my guide. Only two of the four intertwined loops remained. Did that mean I only had two questions left? There were so many things I wanted to ask her, but I knew I didn’t have enough time. I had to make them count.
So while the whole house slept below, I asked the question I hoped my mom could answer. The third loop lit up with a flash.
Again, I was pulled full-throttle down the waterslide, twisting and turning, until I found myself standing in the woods around the cabin that I’d grown so familiar with. There was my mother, standing with the third Rogue from my vision. The one I’d thought was James. He had short hair the color of hay and a smattering of freckles across his face that looked out of place on a grown man.
Rogues, always a little out of place.
“How do you do it?” he asked quietly.
The wind rustled through the pines, whipping my mother’s honey blond hair around her face.
“It’s different for me,” she said solemnly. “This is my family. My home. My baby is powerful, and I have to do what I can to protect her.”
“So is mine,” said James. “Ian is going to do great things. Important things. You saw it with your own eyes.”
“James—” my mother said.
“I want him to know who he is. I want to tell him, to raise him knowing he’s got a power in him that few have. I want to be proud of him.”
“You know you can’t,” she said softly. “I want anything but that for Skye. It’s too dangerous, for both of them. Don’t you see that? The Order is always watching, yes. But they’re too young for the things that fate is asking of them. We have to wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“You have to wait.” My mother’s jaw was a tense line. “What about Catherine? What will she say if you tell her who you really are? Who her son is?”
He looked grim.
“I want what you have. Sam, Skye—the three of you are a unit. I want to make Catherine and Ian a part of this life.”
“It’s not safe for them.”
“Then I want to go back.”
“We need you here.” They were at a standstill. “You’re doing Ian a favor by keeping him in the dark about this. Catherine, too. These are dangerous times, James. The Order is getting restless. You’ve seen the flashes of white through the trees. I think they know.”
She moved closer to him.
“James, I’m begging you. Don’t tell them. Keep this secret. Just a little while longer. My daughter’s life is more important to me than establishing this new faction, and I know you want the same for your son.”
“But it’s tearing me up inside.”
“We all make sacrifices for our kids. This is yours. It’s the sacrifice you’d be making for his safety. He’ll grow up a normal boy. He and Skye will find each other. I’ve seen it.”
And when I blinked again, I was back on the roof, holding the box, reeling, under a dome of stars.
James was jealous after all—but not because Aaron got Aunt Jo. Because my mother and father got to spend time with me, while he couldn’t be the father he wanted to be for Ian.
What I’d seen must have happened right before my parents were killed, and James disappeared. Tensions were clearly running high. The Order was catching on to their plans, tracking them. Ian and I were old enough to understand what was happening, but young enough that we had to be kept safe. After the conversation I’d just witnessed ended, it probably was only a matter of time before the Order set the events in motion that caused the car accident that ended my parents’ lives.
And yet, not mine. They wanted to save mine. Because they knew that the combination of my parents’ blood was already beginning the process of making me special. They knew that, one day, my powers would explode with a vengeance that would shake the universe. And they knew that they would need me.
But that didn’t tell me anything about where James actually was. Finals were here, prom was drawing closer by the day, and we still didn’t have the final Rogues to complete our powerful circle. And if we didn’t find them, we risked not being able to summon all the Rogues to join us in the fight. Without them, we didn’t stand a chance.
“Hey, guys?” Ian’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts the following afternoon, and back to the Bean and the task at hand: studying. He stood above me, holding a plate of cupcakes.
One day, Skye and Ian will find each other.
I’d always known he was important to me. But now I knew with certainty that he was vital to the fight.
“Don’t tell Pete, but if there was ever a time to risk getting fired for the sake of my friends, I think this might be it.” Ian grinned. “On the house.”
“Frosting!” Cassie yelped. “A girl’s best friend.” She chose a vanilla cupcake with yellow buttercream and a smattering of white sprinkles.
I can’t do this without you, Ian, I thought, as Cassie and Dan dug into the sugary goodness. I hope my mother was right.
“Hey.” I pulled him aside. “Do you have a second?”
“For you, I have many seconds.” Ian narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
I grabbed his hand and led him outside, where it woul
d be harder for anyone to overhear us. “How are you doing?” I asked him. “You know, since finding out about your dad being a Rogue, and you having . . .” I paused. “Angelic blood, I guess.”
“I don’t know,” Ian said, his tone light. “I guess it hasn’t really hit me yet.”
“Have you . . . I mean, can you do anything? Powers, I mean?”
He scrunched his nose, thinking. “I don’t think so. I’d know if I did, right?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, you’d know.”
Ian studied me. “Is that it, Skye? I gotta get back to work. . . .”
“Actually,” I said. “There’s something else sort of . . . related.” I paused, and he looked at me expectantly. “I had a vision, a while ago. Back before we split into the Uprising. I’m walking on a huge, endless expanse of black-sand beach. Just miles and miles of sand, as far as the eye can see. On one side, cliffs loom, like, menacingly above me. On the other, the black waves of the ocean beat a steady rhythm. In and out. In perfect time.”
Ian leaned forward, his eyebrows drawn together. “Go on,” he said, his voice low.
“There’s a figure, in the distance. He’s advancing, but the closer he gets, the thicker the mist swirls around him. I can’t see his face or who he is. All I know is that if I don’t do something, he’s going to kill me.”
“Do you see what you do?” Ian asked quietly.
I nodded. “I have a sword. I raise it above my head. And I—” I swallowed hard. “I throw it.”
“And?” The question was so quiet, so low a whisper, I almost didn’t hear it above the sounds of the street.
“And as I do, I see another figure, running toward the first one. I think I know who it is, but I can never quite be sure. I’m always just about to figure it out when the mist swallows him, too. And I know I hit someone.”
Ian’s face was pale.
“I don’t know who. I walk toward the mist. My dress is dragging me down, but I keep going, I have to keep moving. I have to find out. I draw closer. And as the mist clears, I know I’m about to see someone I love.”
Ian grimaced. “Is it . . . me?” He drew a sharp breath. “Is that why you’re telling me?”
“No!” I said quickly. “No, I know that at least.”
“How do you know?”
“Because in the vision, you’re right there beside me.” Ian studied me. Then he nodded.
“So that’s it, then,” he said. “My fate and yours, Skye. Intertwined.”
I leaned closer and took his hands. “I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m telling you because it isn’t just my fight anymore, Ian,” I said. “It’s yours too, now. It’s your dad we’re looking for. Your people we’re fighting with. You’ll be there, with me, in battle. This is your struggle just as much as mine.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know where your dad is, but I know he left trying to protect you. You have to believe me on that. He’s not a bad guy.”
We stood there for a few seconds, in silence, while he thought.
Finally he said, “It makes so much sense.”
“It does?”
“Being a Rogue. My dad working with your parents. Aunt Jo’s story—how she always knew she was different but she didn’t know why or how.” He looked right into my eyes. “That night of your birthday party, I saw your eyes turn silver. I knew you were lying to me about it the next day, too. I had a feeling that something really strange was going on, but I didn’t know what. I knew it this whole time, right up until the camping trip. I just thought I was crazy or . . . I don’t know what I thought.”
“I get it,” I said.
“Every time I was in a room with Asher, I could feel my blood just boiling. Not just ’cause the guy’s an arrogant ass, but like he’d done something to me, personally.” He caught himself, and gave me a small, sheepish grin. “More than just steal you away from me, I mean.”
“Ian—” I said gently. “He didn’t steal—”
“I know, I know.” He frowned. “I would get mad at you, too.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to—”
“No, I do. Those things I said about you to Ellie. They were terrible. I don’t really think that. I just got so worked up, so angry. I didn’t know why, I just knew that I was, and I had to take it out on you, because you had the silver eyes, and you also kind of knew what it was like to be different.”
“Well,” I said. “Maybe now you’ll find some clarity.”
He looked at me curiously.
“He was trying to protect me, huh? You’re sure?”
“He wanted to be a part of your life. And he wanted to keep you safe. But he couldn’t do both.” He scratched his head thoughtfully then patted down his sandy hair.
“How do you know this?” he asked. “A vision?”
I smiled to myself. “Something like that.”
“You know, Skye, you’re amazing, the way you deal with all this. I wouldn’t be able to.”
“You would, Ian,” I said. “If you didn’t have a choice.”
“I guess it would be a little inappropriate to ask you to prom right now, huh?”
“Honestly, right now I’m just worried about surviving prom. Literally.”
He laughed, and soon I was laughing too. Hysterical, raucous, slightly delirious laughter.
“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said, wiping away a tear. Then he leaned in so suddenly it took me by surprise, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll save you a dance, though,” he whispered in my ear.
Before I could say a word, he turned on his heels and went back inside. His step was a little springier than usual.
Ian and Skye will find each other.
I was so grateful that we did.
20
Finals began the following day, and we all met by my locker first thing in the morning. I had brought a big thermos of Aunt Jo’s special, industrial strength coffee blend, milk, and lots of sugar. Cassie’s tote bag contained at least three bottles of Mountain Dew. Ian wore his lucky Rockies hat, even though it was definitely too warm out for headgear of any kind. And Dan . . .
“Dan,” I said. “Don’t you have any rituals? You know, for luck?”
He nodded, grinning sheepishly. “You just can’t see it.”
Cassie made a face.
“Never mind,” I said. “I don’t want to know.” I looked at my watch. “Well, I guess this is it. It’s almost eight.”
“I guess it’s kind of an overstatement to say we’re going into battle,” Dan said. “Considering.”
“Don’t worry,” Cassie said to me over her shoulder, already pushing him down the hall. “I’ll smack him for you.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. . . .” Dan’s voice trailed off as they turned the corner.
Once again, Ian and I found ourselves alone in the hallway. “Well, Ian,” I said, linking my arm through his. “I guess it’s just you and me.”
“Where’s Raven?” he asked.
“She stayed home to prepare for prom—the battle—whatever—with Aaron and Aunt Jo. She’s not going to take finals. She says after this is all over . . . well, she probably won’t be sticking around.”
“I don’t blame her. I’m about ready to get out of here, too.” It made me think of the conversation my mother had shown me. Something popped into my mind about the examples we set for our kids, but it popped out again before I’d fully formed a thought. Ian seemed nervous, and he took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m about ready to get out of here—now.”
“Well, me too. But first we have finals, and then an epic battle. Or did you mean before eight o’clock?”
“Actually,” he said, his voice serious. “I mean right now. I’m not going to take my American History final.”
I felt all the blood drain from my face. “What do you mean?” I asked. “You’re . . . you’re leaving me? But where? Why? Where are you going?”
All the panic I’d been pushing down inside
myself for the past few months began to fight its way to the surface. Was Astaroth right? Was this too much to be asking of them? Would everyone I loved just leave me, eventually?
“Skye,” Ian said, “I’m not leaving leaving. I’m going to find my dad.” He paused. “I know where he is.”
“What!” The blood returned to my face, and with it, a rush of dizzy emotion. “Do you know what this means? Ian, if we find your dad, it means we actually have a fighting chance of beating the Order and the Rebellion once and for all! With all the Rogues on our side, we really could do this!” I jumped up and down, and threw my arms around his neck. “This is incredible!”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “What you said yesterday, about him trying to protect me? Well, I decided to come clean and just tell my mom everything. Not about the Rogue angel stuff, but about how important it is for me to find him. It turns out she knew where he was this whole time. But she didn’t want to tell me. She wanted to protect me, too.”
I narrowed my eyes. This sounded familiar.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Ian cocked his head, a puzzling array of emotions playing out on his face. “She said my dad didn’t leave us, like she always told me he did. I guess the truth is she kicked him out.”
“Really?” I asked. “But—” I stopped myself. There was no way my mom could have shown me that—or even known that. Her clues only took me so far, and we had to piece together the rest. “What happened?”
“She said he was gone all the time, keeping secrets, sneaking around. She was pretty sure he was having an affair. They argued about it a lot. Finally, she told him to get out. She said she told him if he wasn’t going to be the father I needed, he could leave.” Ian’s jaw was set in a straight line. “He didn’t fight. He just . . . did what she said.”
I let the information fill in the blanks of what I already knew. He’d been spending all his time with the Rogues in the cabin in the woods. And my mother begged him to keep their secret from his family. He left his wife and son to keep it safe. And to keep them safe.
“So . . . where is he now?” My breath caught in my throat.
He dug around in his backpack, and held up an envelope. “My mom gave me this. Said this was where the last check he sent her came from.” He pointed to the return address. “Apparently, he changed his name. See? Benjamin Sharpe. That must be why our online searches were pointless.”