Because Watchers have a vital mission, they have the second-highest level of privilege in the Love Collective. In recognition of the level of pressure and the extreme gravity of their position, Watchers receive a greater measure of the Love Collective’s bounty. This is to remind them of the heights to which they have ascended. Only the Supreme Executive may access more in the Hall of Love. Only the Supreme Executive have a greater level of authority.
Watchers, therefore, should always remember this: what has been gained can all too easily be lost.
(Elite Watcher Training Manual, 51st edition, page 216)
“I’m going to report to Dorm Leader,” I say as soon as the train deposits us back at the Academy. Crucible sent us home without so much as a goodbye.
“I’ll go with you,” Hodge replies.
“Don’t worry about it.” I look at my fitness tracker. “It’s nearly dinner time.”
“I am a little hungry,” Hodge admits. “Are you sure you don’t want company?” he asks. His deep brown eyes search my face. There’s not an ounce of the stonelike guard in his expression now. He’s all warmth and friendliness.
I smile and shake my head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the security detail today.”
“That’s my job,” he says, but the smile transforms into concern. “I’m here if you need to talk later.”
I just wave him away and press the button that will take me upstairs.
As usual, Akela’s office door is shut, so I pass my wrist at the console. Nothing happens. I wave my wrist again.
A few seconds later, Wil’s harsh voice rings through the speakers. “What?”
“Can I come in?”
“Why?”
“I need to talk to Dorm Leader.”
“She’s not in.”
“When will she be back?”
“Love knows.”
“So can I wait there?”
“She won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Whatever.”
“Thanks,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.
Exasperated, I give up. Who am I kidding? His hostility hurts.
Back in the Watcher Dorm, I head for my bunk to check the infotab. There are no official messages, which only increases my agitation. I turn the device off and on again, making the secret swirl gesture with my forefinger. In the Siren app, I tap out a quick warning to everyone: Just returned from the Hall of Love with Crucible. Be extra careful. You might be under surveillance.
This sets off a flurry of worried responses from Allegra and Piccolo, which I can’t handle right now. So I switch my infotab off and step out into the Academy again, not even bothering to come up with an excuse to cover my tracks.
I head for the dining hall. Everything looks normal. Relaxed.
“Maybe it’s all in your head,” I mutter to myself.
At that moment Sif steps into my line of sight. “Crazy girl talking to herself again?” A hint of a smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. It’s a small thing, but that twitch reminds me of the Sif I used to know.
“It’s been a big day.” I stifle a yawn.
“Must have been. You look wasted.”
I feel a twinge. It would be nice to have old Sif back again. She was the only someone I could talk to.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she says. I nearly fall over in surprise. This is definitely not new Sif.
I shake my head. I can’t suddenly trust her just because she makes one little twitch at the end of a long day.
“I feel alone,” I say, then clamp my hands over my mouth. Where did that come from? “I mean, I’m fine. Really fine. I had a special assignment today, and it was an amazing privilege. I am just tired now, that’s all.”
“Yeah. Right.” Sif eyes me.
“No, it’s true,” I lie. “Crucible took me to visit somewhere today, and it was something I never thought I’d get to see. But I am tired, and I think I just need to get some Beauty Sleep.”
I don’t tell her my visit was to the Hall of Love.
“I’m not going to report you.” Sif leans back on a dining bench, resting her hip against it. She looks more like the old Sif than ever. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“There’s nothing to report,” I reply, my unblinking stare defying her to disagree.
Sif’s shoulders slump, and she frowns. “Sorry. I know I’ve been . . . different lately.”
“You’ve been . . .” I stop. I can’t say what I was about to say. You’ve been a monster.
“Look, Flick,” Sif says, and her use of my second name jars against me. This might be a trap. Perhaps she’s getting me to trust her so I’ll give her something to report on. Wild thoughts for sure. But right now anything is possible.
I paste a quick smile on my face. “Don’t worry about me, Sif. I’m working hard for the Collective. I’ll catch you later, okay?”
With as much composure as I can manage, I walk away. She doesn’t follow. After I reach the exit, I glance back and see her staring at me, shoulders drooping. She looks so small standing alone in the middle of the dining hall. I almost want to go back and tell her everything.
But I don’t. “Don’t be an idiot, Flick,” I tell myself.
The day arrives for the opening ceremony of the Triumph of Love festival. It will be strange to see the festivities without a crowd of companions cheering around me.
—
Memory date: CE 2278.356 (Four years ago)
Memory location: Nursery Dorm 492, Assembly Hall
The lights dim, and the low hum of conversation sputters into silence. Above our heads, the display begins to glow like a sunrise breaking over the Dorm wall. Music thumps into life—a throbbing, mind-numbing beat that fills our hearing until there is no space for conscious thought. As the music swells, the screen begins to flash with a mesmerizing series of shapes and colors. In minutes we are bobbing up and down, hearing nothing and knowing nothing except the screen and the show and the light and the festival. There is only Love. The Collective is all we live for.
I don’t know how long we are caught up in that state, but eventually the beat stops and the light changes. As we slowly emerge from our musical sleep, shaking our heads and returning to our senses, Supreme Lover Midgate is there waiting for us. Her smile is familiar, and her blue eyes are piercing. As usual, she sits in her white armchair, hands folded neatly in her lap.
“Welcome to the Triumph of Love festival, my children. May you follow your dreams and find yourselves in the universe . . .”
With a whooping cheer, the crowd erupts as Supreme Lover Midgate waves us into the festival concert. We are soon entranced, watching a parade of live acts and animations. Death-defying stunts follow intricate dances and amazing feats of strength. Each new act is met with loud cheers and applause.
“This is the best night of my life!” Bez cheers from his white beanbag chair.
“You say that every year,” Fedge scoffs.
“But this year I mean it!” Bez cries without a hint of irony.
—
Everything is silent around me this year as the dawning light of the Triumph festival breaks over the vidscreen. For a moment I wonder if I should venture downstairs. But a slow, miserable laziness has descended on me. The beats of the music begin to thrum. Lights and colors flash across the screen, draining my resolve. It’s easier to stay where I am. The lounge is just too comfortable . . .
Thump thump thump.
The music is really relaxing.
Thump thump thump.
I was . . . what was I doing again?
Thump thump thump.
Doesn’t matter.
Thump thump thump.
“Wake up,” a rough voice snarls in my ear. Hands are on my shoulders, shaking me. I slowly emerge from a fog and my eyes alight on a man’s face hovering inches from my own. I feel like I know him from somewhere. His frown is deep, but there is worry in his vivid green eyes. “I thought you’d learned to handle this stuff,” he says.
“What?” I mumble, feeling like my head is packed with stuffing. “What happened?”
Conscious thought slowly coalesces, like a camera struggling to find focus. It’s Wil who’s shaking me. He leans across the lounge, a knee on the cushion beside me. Behind his shoulder, the Triumph vidscreen explodes with a series of flashing lights and pounding beats that threaten to send me back into a hypnotic state. While the light show goes on, a soft voice croons, “The Love Collective is your parent. The Love Collective is your only hope . . .”
I shake my head once more, trying to eliminate the last strands of mental rope tying down my thoughts. The room has shifted since I was last alert. Night has fallen, and the picture window is a streak of black glass at the far end of the dorm.
“How long was I out?” I still feel in a fog.
“You should be on assignment.” Wil collapses onto the cushion beside me. “Didn’t Crucible give you work to do tonight?”
I rub at my forehead, trying to get my memory working again. “Um . . . no, I don’t think so.”
“Well, you’re a Watcher. You’re supposed to be working, not vague-ing out. Come on. We should go for a run to clear your head. Then we’ll head to the observation room.”
I narrow my eyes at Wil. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”
“Now’s not the time for that.” His stare bores into me with the force of a laser beam.
“So you are speaking to me?” I say, feeling a wave of relief that almost brings tears to my eyes.
He jumps back up from the lounge. “Come on,” he says, tugging at my wrist. “Jog first. Then Watcher assignment.”
Reluctantly, I allow myself to be lifted from my cushiony resting place. The last tendrils of mental fog still curl around my thoughts, making it hard to move.
“Wha—?”
He pulls me into the elevator and while it descends, I press my hands against the sides of my head, waiting for the last remnants of the daze to evaporate. It’s almost completely gone when the elevator doors open on a hallway instead of the atrium. A glimmer of alarm forces me wide awake.
“Wait, where—?” I begin, but Wil places a silencing finger on his lips, which shuts my mouth. He guides me into a dormitory corridor. We’re below the ground level, although I have no idea how far underground we are. I just follow Wil’s lead and let him walk me through the subterranean halls until we emerge in a paved courtyard, lit by glowing orange LEDs.
Wil is giving a good impression of relaxed but purposeful ease, but I can tell there is something worrying him. A slight sheen of sweat glistens on his brow, which sets off little flickers of anxiety. But I keep my worries to myself.
When the Obstacle course trees safely hide us, Wil abruptly turns to me, eyes flashing.
“What on earth were you thinking?” he whispers harshly. “No, don’t answer that. You weren’t thinking, were you? Of all the—”
“Wait just a second,” I splutter. “What is your problem? Last I checked you weren’t speaking to me, so I didn’t think you would care what I did. Besides, it’s just the Triumph opening ceremony. What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal? Did you not see the mental programming going on there? If I hadn’t arrived when I did, you’d be a vegetable by now. You should be thanking me.”
“Mental programming?” I remember the soothing tones of the announcer’s voice over the Triumph ceremony. “What—?”
Wil scoffs. “You still don’t get it, do you? I knew it. You are completely useless without me around to keep on rescuing you. I stick my neck out for you every day, did you know that?” He steps nearer to me, his green eyes dark orbs in the dim shadows thrown by the trees around us. “I put my life at risk every day to keep you safe.”
The look he gives me is intense, and in spite of myself I wish I could get back into his good graces. I just wish I didn’t keep on making him mad all the time. A Watcher shouldn’t need rescuing, but I can’t seem to stop getting in trouble. Wil’s right. If he hadn’t been there, what would have happened to me?
“I’m sorry,” I say, my lip quivering. “I messed up again. I should have—”
My words evaporate under the intensity of Wil’s gaze. His chiseled features are intoxicating. Why would someone so incredible even bother with a Memory Freak like me? The thought makes my head spin. Like a thunderclap, I’m hit by the sudden realization that I don’t want him to reject me again. But this thought brings on an irrational wave of anger. Why should I be so desperate? He didn’t talk to me. He could at least have explained what I did wrong.
Wil’s face softens. “I just want you to trust me.”
Almost as quickly as it appears, my anger is swamped by a wave of regret, and I’m back to nearly bursting into tears again. I wonder if it is the effect of Wil ripping me out of the hypnotic state too early. Maybe the mental programming up there has left my feelings raw and vulnerable. Whatever the reason, as I speak, the words wobble under the weight of emotion in my voice. “I do. I do trust you, Wil.”
A wry smile blooms on his face.
“You forgot this,” he says, dangling a silver chain from his fingertips.
“My locket!” I exclaim, reaching hungrily for it. “Where did you find it?”
Wil shrugs. “You’re very careless, you know.”
“I was so upset when I lost it. I’m sorry.”
“Never mind. It’s back now. So you can relax.” He waggles his finger at me. “But don’t lose it again, okay?”
“I won’t.”
He leans forward to clasp the chain around my neck again. The nerves along my spine tingle as if electrified under his touch. I sniffle, and my pendulum-swing emotions threaten to drown me in a flood of tears. What is wrong with me?
“Don’t cry,” he chuckles. He reaches out for me, pulling me to his chest again. He holds me close, wrapping his arms around my back.
I try and stop, but tears leak from my eyes. “I thought you would never speak to me again,” I say, sniffling. “It was so hard. Please don’t be mad.”
A knot of guilt and shame builds up within me. Wil’s right to be angry. I missed the hypnotic elements of the Triumph festival and nearly paid dearly for it. If he hadn’t been there—
I push away from his chest. “You’re in danger,” I say urgently. “I saw something, and you need to know.”
“Let’s go and talk,” he says, and I know he means the bunker. With a small smile, he clasps my hand in his and guides me into the undergrowth. I let him lead me, my heart pounding.