Chris was lying on his back. He touched his torso, his legs, his head. He was in one piece.
He recalled the terrifying plunge from the rooftop and sat up, blinking with surprise. Was he dead? Was this hell? He appeared to be in a very dark room.
“You’re awake,” came the voice of Malcolm. It seemed to be all around him, coming from all directions.
Chris glanced about in the darkness. “Where are you?”
“You won’t be able to see me,” Malcolm replied. “You’re human. There’s a veil over your eyes.”
“Well, take it off,” Chris stammered. “This is freaking me out.”
He could hear the click-click-click of Malcolm’s footsteps on what sounded like a marble floor. But Chris could see nothing.
“There’s only one way to remove the veil,” Malcolm said. “And that’s for you to join us.”
“Join who?”
“Us. Here. At Obsidian School.”
Chris’s mind reeled. He had no idea what Malcolm was talking about.
“Fine. Whatever. Just let me see.”
Suddenly, Malcolm’s face appeared before him, just an inch away. It looked like candlelight was glowing on it, though Chris could see no candles.
“You’ll have to sign this contract first,” Malcolm said.
Chris noticed a piece of parchment in his hands and a golden quill. Chris realized then that the light was coming from the quill.
Without even reading what he was signing, he grabbed the quill in his fist and quickly scribbled his name onto the parchment.
All at once, the room blazed with light, so bright Chris had to shield his eyes. When he finally opened his eyes again, he got his first glance at where he was.
It looked like a ballroom, with shiny black marble floors and dark wood-paneled walls. The ceiling was very high and there were several sweeping staircases leading upward to doors and walkways. Right at the top of the ceiling, directly in the center, Chris could see a small opening. The moon shone through it.
“Did we come through there?” Chris stammered.
“Yes,” Malcolm said, smiling.
“But how?” Chris still didn’t understand. How had he fallen so far and yet was still in one piece? And where was this strange place? Hidden beneath the streets of New Jersey?
Before Chris had the chance to ask any of his questions, he felt his stomach heave. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Malcolm crouched down. “Just travel sickness. It will pass.”
“Travel sickness?” Chris asked, confused. “Where have I traveled to?”
“You’re at Obsidian School,” Malcolm explained. “We exist within dimensions.”
“Within…” Chris began to repeat. Then he threw up his breakfast.
Malcolm looked disgusted. “Come on. Get up. Let’s get you cleaned up for your initiation ceremony.”
He grabbed Chris’s hand and heaved his bulky weight up to standing.
“My what?” Chris asked, wiping drool from his lips with the back of his hand.
“Initiation,” Malcolm repeated. He waved the parchment. “You’ve enrolled at the school now.”
Chris wasn’t particularly pleased to hear he’d just signed himself up to joining a new school, especially this one which looked as fancy as the Catholic school near Campbell Junior High.
“Are there fees?” he asked. “’Cause my parents are dirt poor. And what are the lessons like? I hate learning stuff. There better not be any history classes.” Then he shuddered. “Or French. No way am I sitting through all that oui madame stuff. I thought this was all about pummeling Oliver!”
Malcolm frowned at Chris, clearly annoyed at the barrage of questions he was firing at him. He shook his head. “No fees. No lessons. This isn’t a normal school, Chris. It’s a seer school. And once we initiate you, you’ll get your powers.”
Chris stared at Malcolm in disbelief. “Powers? You mean like the ones Oliver has?”
The thought of becoming a freak like his brother disturbed him. But then he recalled all the things Oliver had done to him. If he had powers himself he could do that stuff back tenfold! He could send Oliver sliding on his butt through the streets of New Jersey!
He followed Malcolm to the staircase, suddenly excited. “You’re making me a seer?”
“Not just any seer,” Malcolm said. “The best kind of seer. An evil seer.”
“Evil?” Chris grinned. “I like the sound of that!”
He followed Malcolm up the tall staircase. It made his thighs ache to get all the way to the top. Hopefully when he had powers he’d be able to fly or float or something. Stairs were annoying.
They walked across a dark corridor lit by flaming torches. The Obsidian School was very cold, Chris noticed.
“Hey, am I supposed to dorm here or something?” he asked, hurrying to keep up with Malcolm. “Because it’s way too cold. There’d better be blankets. And I’m not sharing a room. Not with anyone.”
Malcolm halted suddenly and turned on his heel. Chris had clearly infuriated him and he’d reached the end of his tether. He stared at Chris with dark, menacing eyes. The veins in his neck popped.
He raised his hand up. Then suddenly Chris flew back against the wall. Though Malcolm was not touching him, it felt to Chris like his hands were wrapped around his throat. He struggled for breath, kicking out against the wall as he thrashed about in terror.
“No,” Malcolm said coldly. “You won’t be dorming here. You have a mission. One you’ll be undertaking once you’ve been initiated. So shut your mouth and listen.”
Chris could feel the pressure in his face as his oxygen reserves ran out. He nodded, desperate to be released.
Finally, the grip of Malcolm’s fingers released from his throat. Chris fell to the floor, gasping for breath. His vision was blurry, but he could make out Malcolm’s feet as he marched away.
“Come on!” Malcolm’s voice boomed.
And suddenly, Chris was sliding on his hands and knees. He looked up and saw that Malcolm was doing it, dragging him all the way across the polished floorboards with just the power of his mind. He slid right up to Malcolm’s feet and peered up at the menacing boy.
Malcolm sneered. “Come on now. No need to grovel. Pick yourself up. Dust yourself off. There’ll be far worse than that awaiting you.”
Chris immediately leapt up. The smirk had been wiped clean from his face. Usually, he loved irritating people. But not Malcolm. The strange boy terrified him.
Chris looked over at the door Malcolm had stopped outside of. The sign on it read Mistress Obsidian.
Malcolm rapped his knuckles sharply against it. The door creaked open and in he went. Trembling from the terrifying encounter, Chris took a tentative step inside.
There was a large round table in the middle of the room and candelabras dotted around the place. The walls were black. It reminded Chris of a vampire’s lair. At the head of the table was a large throne, and a terrifying looking woman sat on it.
“Christopher Blue,” she said, smiling disconcertingly. “I’m so pleased you decided to join us here at Obsidian’s. I’m Mistress Obsidian, the head teacher here.”
She held out a hand for Chris to shake. Her fingers were long and pale and bony. Her nails were like shiny black talons.
He shook her hand. The skin was as cold as ice.
“Please, take a seat,” she said.
Chris and Malcolm sat at the table. Mistress Obsidian turned to Malcolm. He handed her the parchment that Chris had signed.
She looked at it with glee, then rolled it back up.
“You’ve not let me down,” she told Malcolm. “You’ve done exactly as I’ve asked.”
Malcolm tipped his chin up with pride.
But Chris was feeling particularly impatient. He didn’t want to sit here listening to Malcolm being praised all day. He wanted to get his powers so he could start punishing Oliver.
“Can we get on with the initiation?” he said. “I want my powers.”
Mistress Obsidian snapped her cold, dark eyes his way. “You’re eager.”
“Eager to smash Oliver to a pulp, yeah,” Chris said, slamming his fist on the table.
A smile seeped across her lips.
“In which case, let’s waste no more time.”
She stood and walked over to the window. When she returned she was holding a strange metal object. It looked like a cattle brand, the type used to burn numbers onto the flanks of cows.
“Er… what’s that for?” Chris asked, shuffling in his seat.
“You’ll need a dark mark,” the headmistress said. “We all have them.”
Malcolm pushed up his shirt sleeve then to reveal a scar on the flesh of his arm. It was a strange symbol that resembled a volcano.
“The mark of Obsidian,” Malcolm said, looking at it with pride.
Chris started to feel scared. He didn’t want to be branded!
The headmistress sat back down in her throne. Then with a wave of her hand, the candle on the table before suddenly changed. Its flame turned black.
She held the piece of metal into the fire.
“Now hold out your arm, Christopher,” she said, as the metal turned red hot. “There’s a good boy.”
Chris’s mouth went dry. He shook his head. “No. I don’t want that.”
But suddenly, his arm thunked down onto the table without him even deciding to. Panicking, he looked up and saw Malcolm’s eyes fixed on his arm. The boy was doing this! Just like before when he’d squeezed Chris’s throat without even touching him, he was now holding his arm down onto the table with just his mind.
“It only stings for a second,” he said menacingly.
Mistress Obsidian raised the red-hot brand into the air and brought it down on Chris’s flesh in a sudden, sweeping motion.
Chris screamed as white-hot pain raced from the place the brand was touching him. His skin sizzled, and the smell of burned flesh made him gag. He’d never felt anything so awful. It hurt more than anything he’d ever known.
Tears sprang into his eyes but he fought them down. There was no way he was crying in front of them.
Suddenly, Mistress Obsidian removed the brand. Malcolm’s invisible bindings were also released.
Chris cradled his arm to his chest. There was a horrible red welt seared into the skin. The smell was unbearable. He wanted to weep but he kept his tears at bay.
Mistress Obsidian stood again, returning the brand to its place in the glass cabinet in the corner of the room. But she wasn’t done. She pulled something else out and began to pace toward Chris. He saw that she was holding a black-bladed knife.
Chris instantly shunted back in his seat. “Don’t… don’t cut me!” he pleaded.
Mistress Obsidian tipped her head back and laughed. In his seat opposite Chris, Malcolm cackled as well.
Mistress Obsidian walked slowly back to the table and sat at her throne. She held the knife in front of her, tip pointing to the sky.
“This isn’t to cut you, dear boy,” she said. “This is to cut the universe.”
Then she brought it very slowly and carefully down, as if slicing a piece of cake. Chris gasped as he realized she was cutting right through the air.
“Have you ever seen a star up close?” she murmured.
She peeled the sides of the slit she’d made and bright blinding light burst out. Chris blinked against the brightness of it.
Through his squinted vision, Chris could just make out Mistress Obsidian reaching in through the slice she’d made and scooping something out. Then she pinched the slit all along the length and it sealed up.
Chris’s heart was beating very fast. He looked at Mistress Obsidian. In her palm there lay a bright shining ball of light, just the same size as a pill.
“Once the power is within you,” Mistress Obsidian said, “we will send you on a very special mission.”
She waved her spare hand over a large bowl of glittering liquid. Chris squinted and saw an image begin to appear in it. It was Oliver.
His jaw went rigid. He began to grind his teeth.
“How do I get the power within me?” he said.
“You swallow this.” Mistress Obsidian held up the glowing pill.
“What is it?” Chris asked.
“It is part of the universe. The only way to make a human a seer is to swallow it.”
Chris stared at the piece of star in her palm. His arm was throbbing from the brand. He felt exhausted from everything he’d been put through in this office. It had been traumatizing. He didn’t want to invite in any more pain.
But then he remembered Oliver’s stupid face. He’d do anything for revenge. Even swallow a piece of the universe.
He reached forward and took the pill-sized glowing thing out of Mistress Obsidian’s hand. Then he put it in his mouth and swallowed.
A second later, his insides seemed to turn to flame.