It was a few moments before the lead evaluator with the microphone spoke again. Behind the window, I could see the entire group talking, several rather excitedly, among themselves.
Now you’ve done it.
I guiltily remembered Aiden and his sage advice, which I knew he’d given with my best interest in mind. But sheepishness quickly turned to dread as I remembered what he’d said about the Order trying to exploit my abilities and keeping tabs on my every move if they ever found out that I was a so-called Pentamancer.
Still, the faster you infiltrate the organization, the quicker you can learn about your past, came a hasty voice in my head.
Before I had time to reconcile my own thoughts, the bespectacled proctor spoke again from the window of the observation room, his voice reverberating loudly from the speakers above: “For the last set of tests today, please head over to the yellow-marked triangle.”
I walked across the vast arena to the area just diagonal from the Terramantic grounds, smelling the acrid odor of the rubber asphalt before I stepped on it. Then I ducked under the appropriately-colored yellow caution tape, which clearly separated the Electromancy quadrant from its two neighboring triangles.
“The Electromantic assessment is designed differently than the other four sets of tests,” Dr. Stenson explained in a dry voice, “due to the unpredictable and sometimes-hazardous properties of Lightning, particularly in the hands of an untrained Elementalist.”
Oh, great.
“Because you have not worked with an instructor to hone these skills,” he continued, “We’ve invited Electromantic specialist, Ori Levitan, who’s come all the way from the Order’s Tel Aviv chapter to assist with, and evaluate, this demonstration.”
No pressure there, I thought sarcastically. Then the full meaning of his words hit me. He came halfway across the world… just to see me?
An attractive, dark-complexioned man with a thick black beard took the microphone from the head evaluator.
“Hello Aspen, it’s nice to meet you,” he said pleasantly, with just a hint of an accent. I waved lightly. “Before we begin, would you please grab the safety goggles from the Auromancy testing quadrant and put them on?” He put his hand over the microphone and said something to the Lead Evaluator next to him.
Shrugging, I headed back to the center of the pentagonal arena and retrieved the goggles from the handle of the wind chamber door, slipping them carefully over my head as I headed back over to the yellow triangle. Ori began speaking through the microphone again.
“In the center of the triangle, you will find a Van de Graaff generator, an electrostatic device which uses a moving belt to accumulate electric charge.”
I glanced toward the center of the triangle, where a metal globe, about the size of a basketball, sat atop a three-foot-high column.
“The generator produces very high voltage, direct current electricity at low current levels – meaning that once you are cleared to do so, you may touch it directly without harm. But before you do, we will first need to shut off power to the arena in order to ensure accurate measurement of potential electrical output. This means we will not be able to communicate with you over the loudspeakers during the assessment, however I will be close at hand should anything go awry during this last test.”
Gee, that makes me feel marginally better, I wanted to tell him, but only nodded at the window instead.
“The Electromantic assessment comprises only one segment: using the small amount of electricity generated by the Van de Graaff orb, you will need to enhance the charge, then successfully produce an electric arc from the generator to the metal rod behind that.” I apprehensively regarded the ten-foot lightning rod rising from the ground, several yards behind the metal globe. “An electric arc is an electrical breakdown of a gas that produces an ongoing electrical discharge. There are several factors we will consider in determining the successful completion of the assessment, though the proctor informs me that this is a discussion to be held upon completion of the exam.” The proctor was leaning in and whispering something to Ori while reaching to take the microphone back. “Good luck, Aspen. I’ll be closely watching in case you require immediate assistance.”
The lead evaluator cut in then, his familiar monotonous voice filling my ears, “Commencement of Test L-1. Once the lights are fully turned off, you may approach the generator and begin the test. A red light from the Evaluator’s room, flashing three times, will signal when to start.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the long rows of blue- and yellow-tinted halide lights mounted across the high ceiling began shutting off with hollow clunks one row at a time, shrouding the arena in successive dark sections until not a mote of light remained on the floor. Even the green exit light above the door that led out to the main corridor was shut off. The ceiling light in the observation window halfway up the wall shut off as well, and I could see several evaluators take out small flashlights to see their clipboards.
With the faint light reflecting on their faces, they looked almost ghostly, like two-dozen apparitions watching ominously from above. Savannah’s overly-made up face looked particularly ghastly, illuminated from below by the dim glow of her flashlight. She was laughing about something with the evaluator to her left. In that moment, standing awkwardly and alone in the dark testing arena, I hated her. I only wanted answers; to know my name, a way to find my parents, to understand why three years ago I had been abandoned in a strange place, without a friend in the world or a single memory in my mind.
From the window, a red light blinked three times, indicating the start of the test.
I couldn’t see the electrical generator, but if I concentrated, I could somehow feel it, sitting just a half dozen yards in front of me in the center of the triangle. I started walking towards it tentatively, remembering the first timid steps I took outside after waking up alone in that cold, dark house. I was terrified, I was hungry, my head hurt, and I had no idea where I was.
In the pitch blackness, I approached the Van de Graaf generator, placing my hands on the warm metal. I could feel the current running beneath my skin as every hair on my head stood on end from the static electricity.
I remembered all the times I had to sit at home in pitch blackness, all the freezing nights I slept on the floor by the fire to stay warm; every cold dinner, every frigid bath, every tedious game of solitaire played in the dim light of a kerosene lantern to pass the time alone without electricity or entertainment.
Why did Savannah lie to me? I wondered, my emotions flaring. Why didn’t she just tell me the truth, that she knows who I am, who my parents are?
White sparks began flying from the generator, though I hardly noticed.
Is it because it’s her fault? Did this happen because of the Order’s involvement?
The current beneath my hands grew suddenly then, shocking me in both senses of the word. I jerked my hands away from the metal orb. Purple-white lightning streaked between my fingertips, coming together in a hot, surging sphere that crackled with intensity between my open palms.
When you walked in the classroom that first day and the lights flickered, I immediately knew what you were, and I was afraid.
Hearing Aiden’s voice in my head, I thought darkly, Let Savannah and her accomplices know what I am. Let them be afraid.
I was aware of the metal rod waiting in front of me; I could feel its electric potential. Pushing both of my hands in front of my face, the feral, white-hot ball of Lightning anxiously pulsing to be set free, I shoved it towards the rod with all I had, my ability magnified by my anger.
The lightning bolt charged through the air, illuminating the entire Electromantic quadrant in brilliant white light, then clambered up the metal pole hungrily. But I could sense the electricity’s potential, knowing it had so much more it yearned to release. It charged through and around me, electrifying the air with ionized particles. The arena smelled like a thunderstorm.
I am the thunderstorm.
The thought came wildly, and I must have looked wild; my hair floating in all directions and Lightning pouring from my fingers. I nearly laughed. The torrent of Lightning between my fingertips and the rod surged then, sending the bolt hurtling past the top of the metal pole. Before Ori and the others could even realize what was happening, the bolt tore upwards toward the ceiling, leaving a searing trail of plasma in its wake. Hot, white sparks showered down on the rubber ground as the halide lights in the ceiling glowed to life, bathing the arena in vivid, bright light. I glanced at the observation window, which housed two dozen wide-eyed faces, several of them slack-jawed.
With one final push, I released my grip on the lightning and it jumped, flaring wildly, enjoying a moment of unbridled freedom. The halide lights grew so wildly intense, I had to shield my eyes from their blinding white light. After being subjected to the extraordinary voltage, the strained tubes of the half-dozen halide lamps above the lightning rod exploded in a dazzling cascade, as blazing shards of molten glass erupted from the fixtures. The remaining lights in the arena flickered to black and the room was dark again, save for the horrified, flashlight-illuminated expressions of the crowd of evaluators.
I felt exuberant.
Knowing full-well that they couldn’t see me in the dark, I nevertheless attempted to arrange my face in an apologetic fashion.
“Sorry!” I called out loudly. “My bad!”