The door pulls open and light spills across the porch. A middle-aged woman still dressed in an elegant black evening gown from the hospital’s staff Christmas party stands in the entryway. Her confused frown looks out of place on her soft features. I slink back from the light, telling myself again what a terrible idea this is. We should have just taken Milo to the hospital.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hanover,” Lance says, “I believe this young man belongs to you.”
Her eyes finally take in more than the stranger addressing her. The sight of her bloody son hanging limply on Lance’s arm shocks her into reacting. “Milo! What happened?”
“He and a Guardian strike team had a minor disagreement,” Lance replies.
“Guardians!” Mrs. Hanover gasps. “Matthew! Matthew, get down here right now! The Guardians found Milo!”
The terror in her voice is answered immediately by the pounding of footsteps. A man with lightly graying brown hair barrels down the staircase and takes in the scene with the practiced calm of an experienced ER doctor. Which is probably because that’s exactly what he is. “Get him into the living room and lay him on the couch. Annabelle, get my bag from my office, please. Celia? Celia, honey, are you alright?”
Stuck behind Lance and Milo, Celia calls out to her worried father. “I’m fine, Dad, just take care of Milo.”
Lance lugs Milo through the doorway, allowing Celia to dart inside the house and race into the living room ahead of them. Mrs. Hanover rushes back in and crosses the entryway without looking at me once, her voice filling the room as she starts yelling at Milo.
“What on earth were you doing that got the Guardians’ attention? How many times have we told you that you have to be careful? Look at you, Milo! You could have been killed!”
“I was being careful,” Milo growls. “I’m always the one being careful! You and Dad were the ones trying to get me killed from the beginning!”
The argument fades in volume, if not in anger, as they drag Milo into the den. His dad joins in as soon as he gets back in sight of his son, bag of supplies in hand. It’s a free-for-all of blame and accusations. I’m left here without anyone missing me. I can leave, sneak outside and wait. Milo’s dad will help him, and he and his wife will never be the wiser about me. I am trembling with concern for Milo. He perked back up on the drive over, and his ability to fight with his parents now shows he’s in control of his faculties. I can’t say the same thing about his temper. It’s a promising sign, but I’m afraid of his condition turning back around. I have to know he’s okay. Plus, Celia is the worst secret-keeper in the world. She’ll spill the whole story the moment Milo is okay.
I close the door quietly and take a hesitant step forward. My one freezing bare foot shuffles along beside my high heel, my gait lopsided and painful. I reach the doorway to the living room and peek in. Mr. Hanover’s hands work ceaselessly as he berates Milo for being so foolish. He checks his son’s pulse, blood pressure, and pupil dilation, dispensing medication, and finally cleans and bandages the head wound. He leans back at last and frowns at Milo. Milo looks up with an equally foul expression, but there is thanks in his eyes as well. His eyes look much clearer than they did a few minutes ago. I was so intent on Milo that I didn’t even hear Celia babbling in the background at first because of the arguing. She’s saying something about the theater, but I don’t think anyone is listening to her.
“Libby,” Milo says suddenly, his voice sounding loud in the absence of any fighting, “where’s Libby?”
Celia pauses in her monologue and looks around. “She was here a minute ago.”
Lance sees me first but says nothing. There is understanding in his eyes. This may cost me everything I have. The Guardians attacking Milo might make his parents pack them up anyway, but meeting me, knowing I’m the reason Milo was found in the first place, that will definitely take Milo away from me forever. I take a step back, but not quickly enough. Milo’s eyes find me before I can hide.
“Libby,” Milo says, “are you okay?”
His parents follow his gaze to me. So much for running.
“Libby?” Mrs. Hanover asks quietly. “Libitina Sparks?”
My heart was racing before. Now it is about to burst. I trip over my own feet as I step into the room.
“Matthew, it’s her. It’s Cassia.”
Mr. Hanover blinks, but says nothing. Milo and I both tense, ready for another fight to break out.
“Milo,” his mother says, “why didn’t you tell us this is who you’ve been dating?”
“Uh, because I knew you’d pick a fight about it and make us move,” he says.
Tears I don’t understand fill her eyes. She stands up and I brace myself for her reaction. Anger, fear, hysterical screaming, I would have been prepared for any of those. Her running to me and throwing her arms around me are worse than a physical assault. I stagger in shock.
“Thank you, thank you, Libby. Oh, thank you,” she cries. She pulls back and beams at me. I’m so stunned I can barely speak. When I find my voice it’s halting and weak.
“I…I don’t understand. You’re…glad I’m here?” I ask.
Mr. Hanover has moved up behind his wife and is smiling just as widely as she is. I glance past them to Milo and Celia, but they’re as dumbfounded as I am. I step back from Milo’s parents. Panic that they know something I don’t makes me look back at the front door. The awkward step I take into the hallway twists my ankle again. Only the wall next to me saves me from dropping completely. Mr. Hanover moves quickly and helps me to stand.
“What’s wrong, dear?”
“I broke my ankle last weekend,” I say though another spasm of pain. “I had to tear the cast off to get to Milo in time. I’m okay, though. Please don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
“And you’re walking on it?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Let’s get you to the couch.” His wife bustles over to me, and they practically shove me forward. Short of attacking both of them, I don’t know what to do but follow. Lance moves to the second couch ahead of us and takes up a defensive position at the end. I thank him silently, and let Milo’s parents push me down to the cushions. Mr. Hanover is wrapping my ankle with an elastic bandage before I can object.
“We’ll have to cast it again most likely, but for now it can wait. I think we might owe you an explanation first, and our thanks for saving Milo’s life,” he says.
“Lance and Milo helped too,” I say quietly. I’m the reason Milo was found in the first place.
Mrs. Hanover sits down beside me, bouncing slightly in her enthusiasm. Her sudden shift in moods is disorienting. After hearing so many negative things about Milo’s parents, I had wondered where his sister got her bubbliness. Celia must take after her mom, when she’s not yelling at people. Mrs. Hanover looks at me, full smile.
“We didn’t know why Milo was so insistent on moving here after his Inquest. He had never even been to New Mexico before. He pushed and pushed until we agreed. I never understood until we saw you on the news. Cassia, right here in Albuquerque. I knew then that it was fate. You would find him somehow.”
Fate, or something worse? I’m beginning to think it was no accident that he ended up here with me. But…
“Why would you want me to find him? He already had the Guardians after him,” I say. I would only be one more danger to Milo.
“Guardians,” she snaps, “they’ve been hunting Milo because he has no talents. It’s shameful the way they can’t just leave him alone.”
“But it’s not true. Milo does have talents,” I blurt out. “Milo, show them.”
Sitting up slowly, Milo bares his wrist for his parents to see. They are both stunned. “I told you she could do it, Matthew. I knew she would be the one. Everything is going to be okay now.”
I’m hopeful that the Guardians will leave Milo alone after Braden explains what happened, but that eerie instinct that told me not to explain too much has been grating on me since we left the theater. I fear M
ilo is nowhere near safe yet. I’m hopeful, but Milo’s parents have no idea about any of that yet. Why is Milo’s mom smiling like that?
“Mrs. Hanover, what are you talking about?” I ask.
“You’ve saved Milo,” she says. “You’re going to save the other Ciphers now, aren’t you?”
The room falls completely silent.
That’s what Braden was talking about. He hadn’t discovered Milo’s nickname. It wasn’t a nickname at all. Mr. Walters used to be a Seeker, a Guardian. He knew what Milo was when he first met him. He simply called him what he was. What he thought he was. My thoughts race through all of this in seconds, but Milo seems to be stuck on a single thought.
“There are others?” he asks darkly. The beginnings of another fight roll along with his words. “I’m not the only one?”
His mother’s enthusiasm drops visibly. Her head dips down in shame and his father has to answer for her. He does so straight-backed, bracing for another round. “Yes, Milo, there are others.”
“How many?” His furious eyes are darting between his parents in search of answers. “Two? Ten? A dozen? How many, Dad?”
“Hundreds, maybe thousands.”
The news is unbelievable. Hundreds of people just like Milo. Do they all have hidden talents only I can reveal? I am reeling with the possibilities, the responsibility, and the pressure. Milo is having a completely different reaction.
“You let me believe I was the only one,” he growls. “You let me believe I was a freak. You nearly killed me that night!”
“We had to, son. The Guardians would have taken you if we hadn’t,” Mr. Hanover says. “If we hadn’t convinced the Inquisitor to let us forge your diktats you would have been taken away from us. We were terrified, Milo. What other option did we have?”
“You could have told me!” he yells. “Why didn’t you explain what was going on to me? Instead you left me and Celia out of every decision. Did you think I was too stupid or irresponsible to have a say in what happened to me? It was my life! You only started listening to me after Celia was attacked. If you had told me from the beginning the reason I was in danger, we could have made a plan together that didn’t involve me nearly bleeding to death or both of your children almost dying at the hands of Guardians!”
“Milo, please,” his mother begs.
He shakes his head angrily. “Do you know what I would have told you that night?”
“No,” she whispers.
Milo looks away from her. His body sinks into the couch. “And you never will. You’ll never know how things might have been different. You should have told me. I should have had a choice. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were always so popular, so outgoing,” his mom says quietly. “You loved being the center of attention. We were afraid you would tell someone, slip up about what you were. Milo, we were terrified of losing you. We thought we were making the right choice.”
The scowl on Milo’s face makes it pretty clear what he thinks of their decision making abilities. He glares at her, frozen in his fury for several long seconds. “Why,” he asks through his clenched jaw, “didn’t you tell me when Libby was named the Destroyer? It would have been a perfect time to let me in on your secret!”
“Milo, do not raise your voice at your mother,” his dad demands. When Milo doesn’t say anything, he continues. “We were trying to come up with a plan that wouldn’t draw the Guardians’ attention to you. We were working with the other Cipher families to come up with something that would keep you safe, keep all the Ciphers safe. It isn’t an easy thing to coordinate something like that. We weren’t ready for you to jump on your own.”
“Looks like you underestimated me in more ways than one,” Milo says bitterly. “I’ve done more on my own, without you. Maybe it should stay that way.”
“Milo, please, we’re trying to help you,” his mom begs.
Milo opens his mouth to say something I’m sure won’t help the situation. I motion to Celia for help. Moving from her spot on the floor in front of the fireplace, she comes and sits next to her brother. His arm slips around her shoulders and pulls her close. His anger is for the danger they put Celia in as much as their lying to him. Having his sister safely next to him does something to take the edge off his anger. He’s still furious at his parents, but at least it has boiled down to more of a simmer than an inferno. I don’t know how long he can keep it up, but he’s calmed down enough that I can take my focus off him for a moment and risk a few questions of my own.
I open my mouth to speak, but Mrs. Hanover is faster. She turns to face me, her expression pleading. “Libby, didn’t you explain about the other Ciphers to Milo?”
“Mrs. Hanover, I’ve never heard of Ciphers before. I can’t explain anything right now.”
“What do you mean you don’t know about the Ciphers? How did you know to repeat Milo’s Inquest? Didn’t you speak to them?”
“No, I didn’t speak to them,” I say. “I don’t even know who they are, or where they are. I have no idea about any of this. Celia was the one who gave me the idea to repeat the Inquest.”
“Celia?” she asks. “So you really haven’t been in contact with the other Ciphers?”
“No, I haven’t.”
Milo’s parents look at each other. The bubbling hope that was in their eyes only moments before is starting to wane. If they start to think they’ve made a mistake with me, they’ll run. I’ll lose Milo forever. “Mrs. Hanover, please, can you just tell me what you know? If I need to speak to them, if they know what I’m supposed to be doing right now, please just tell me where they are.”
Mrs. Hanover’s shoulders slump in defeated amazement. I suddenly fear that she has no more idea than I do about where the Ciphers are, but when she speaks her quiet voice is laced with laughter. “The only way you can speak to the Ciphers is in the spirit world,” she says.
“What? You mean they’re dead?” I ask. Milo is the only one left? When they said there were others I assumed they were still alive somewhere. No wonder they tried to hide Milo. And if they’re all dead, how am I supposed to save them?
“Dead?” Mr. Hanover asks. “Of course they’re not dead. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Um, the fact that the spirit world is filled with the spirits…of the dead,” I say tentatively.
Mr. Hanover snorts in derision. “I can’t believe the schools are still teaching that drivel to our children. Intentionally spreading lies to whole generations just to hide their dirty little secret. It’s unbelievable.”
“Dear,” Mrs. Hanover says, putting a hand on her husband’s arm, “you can rant about the shortcomings of public education later. Libby looks like she’s about ready to explode if we don’t explain what we know.”
“Yes, please,” I say.
“The spirits in the spirit world are not from persons who have passed on. They are from people locked there against their will. Every spirit there still has a physical body, but they are separated from it,” she says. “They will remain there until someone releases them. Until you release them, Libby.”
Mr. Walters lied to me when he said he didn’t know or care what the spirits were or where they came from. Being a Seeker, he had to know about what the other Guardians were doing. Plus, he already knew Milo was a Cipher. He lied right to my face. That wild haired lunatic is going to get some not very happy words from me the next time I see him. Pushing away my irritation, I turn my attention back to Milo’s parents.
“How can they be kept there?” I ask.
Mrs. Hanover frowns deeply. “They are captured by the Guardians and taken to what is basically a prison. Except these prisoners aren’t monitored by Corrections Officers. These unfortunate prisoners are monitored by powerful Spiritualists. The Spiritualists they employ are powerful enough that they can reach into a person’s spirit and tear it away. Not completely, of course, or they would die, but far enough away, locked in the spirit world. Because these priso
ners have no talents of their own to use, they are incapable of escaping. The Spiritualists stay linked with them and monitor them every second of the day.”
“How long do they keep them there?” I ask quietly.
“Until their physical body dies. It’s a death sentence.”
I sink into the couch in despair. No wonder even thinking about it makes her so sad. That could have been Milo.
“How do you know about them?” I ask.
“A man named Marcus Riley came to me one day at my counseling practice and tried to recruit me. He was the Warden of the Cipher prison in Akron. I hadn’t even known there was a Cipher prison, or Ciphers, then. He offered me an exorbitant amount of money, but once he explained what I would be doing, I turned him down flat.” She shivers at the memory. “And then a year later my own son was named a Cipher. I could never let him be taken to one of those places.”
“But why are they holding them?” I ask. “What threat could a person with no talents possibly be?”
Mr. Hanover leans forward, his fingertips pressing together in front of him. “We wondered that as well. It didn’t make sense. Even before Milo’s Inquest we questioned the true purpose of these prisons. I started researching them, but found very little. The only reference I found to Ciphers was a passage in an old political book that mentioned the need for the prisons to protect the populace from what they might become. Become. That word piqued my interest. If the Ciphers could become something then they weren’t really what we thought, talentless. Only, the Inquisitors apparently could do nothing to find these talents.”
“And after watching Milo grow up so strong, fast, intuitive, and generally talented, I knew there had to be something more than what I was told,” Mrs. Hanover adds, “but if a Inquisitor can’t unlock the Ciphers’ talents, who could? I decided to ask. It took a great many difficult trips to the spirit world before I was able to coax any of the spirits there into talking with me about it. Travelling to the spirit world is not my strongest area, but eventually I found one willing spirit, a young woman named Lacy. She was afraid to tell me too much because the Spiritualists were monitoring them very closely, but she said she overhead the Guardians who captured her talking about the Destroyer. She said they had to keep her locked up just in case the Destroyer ever actually appeared.”
Mrs. Hanover takes my hands gently in hers. “After that, I knew all we could do was hide and wait for you to find us. You are the only one who can set those people free. You’ve already saved Milo, which is more than we ever hoped would happen, but your work isn’t done yet, Libby.”
Thoughts race, crawl, jump, and bash through my mind. They run into one another and explode into entirely new ideas and problems. No matter how hard I try to organize them, or sort them out, they just keep multiplying. How can this be true? Is it really possible that there is a whole layer of lore and actual practice in our society that the general population is completely ignorant of? With social networking and texting, blogs and gossip columns all over the internet, how has this never slipped out before now? What about the families of these Ciphers? Did they really never tell anyone? Or fight to get their sons and daughters back? Mr. and Mrs. Hanover can’t possibly be the first ones to ever resist. What kind of threats did the Guardians level at them to keep them from exposing them? It’s absolutely sickening to entertain that possibility. Even more sickening is thinking about the lives I’m sure have been taken in order to keep this secret.
Suddenly everything in my mind comes to a screaming halt.
“What if the Guardians find out what I’ve done to Milo?” I ask. “Won’t they expect me to try and rescue the other Ciphers? What if they try to stop that from happening? What if they kill them all?”
I can’t be responsible for the deaths of hundreds or thousands of innocent people. I just can’t. My chest constricts painfully. Something tried to warn me not to tell Braden what I had done, but it was the only way to save Milo. He would have taken Milo if I hadn’t told him something. I had to save Milo. I had to save him.
“Libby, dear. Please calm down, Libby. You haven’t done anything wrong,” Mrs. Hanover says. “The Guardians in charge of the prisons were alerted to your presence at the same time everyone else was.”
“But I’ve been trying to convince everyone I’m not the Destroyer up until now. After tonight, no one is going to believe I’m harmless. The only way I could get the Guardian strike leader to leave Milo alone was to show him that Milo isn’t a Cipher. He’s going to tell his superiors. They’ll know I can save the Ciphers. What if the Guardians murder every one of the Ciphers to keep me from rescuing them?”
“No,” she says shaking her head, “no, they won’t do that. They can’t. All of those Spiritualists keeping the Ciphers locked in the spirit world are linked to the Ciphers. Killing the Ciphers will kill the Spiritualists too. They won’t kill thousands of the most talented Spiritualists in the world.”
“Not even to keep me from saving the Ciphers? I’m supposed to destroy the world, Mrs. Hanover. A few thousand lives to keep that from happening, I don’t see why they wouldn’t just do it.” It’s a cold assessment, but a logical one. A few thousand lives to protect billions, even the most soft-hearted person in the world would have a hard time turning down such an option.
Mrs. Hanover’s fingers tighten painfully, her fingernails digging into my skin. “Libby, there are worse things in this world than destruction. Murdering the Ciphers while their spirits are locked away, it would be worse than anything you might do. Something terrible happens to a spirit if it is separated from its body permanently. I won’t discuss it in front of Celia, but trust me when I say the Guardians will not kill the Ciphers.”
The twisted, horrified quality of her features makes me pull back. Everyone in the room seems to be holding their breath. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but she already knows more about this whole situation than I do. And I have witnessed Celia waking from a terrified nightmare of Guardians ripping her from her bed. I won’t be the one to usher in new nightmares if I can help it. I will definitely come back to this topic later, though.
“I was wrong before, when I said I’d never contacted the Ciphers,” I say.
Everyone’s countenance perks up. Milo and Celia nod as they realize what I am talking about. Lance notices this and frowns. Lance’s expression changes from confused, to angry, and finally to hurt as I quickly relate the bitter details of my dad’s death. Lance held me as I cried for hours in the days after my dad died. He and Jen both did everything they could to help me cope and eventually accept his death. And I never spoke a word of what happened to either of them.