2
Selah sat in the office area of her quarters and glanced through the long expanse of glass offering a sweeping view of the blue waters of the Atlantic and exerted pressure on her thought. One . . . two . . . three . . . release.
Again, came the voice drifting through her consciousness.
She pictured the dart of an idea burrowing like an inchworm into the core of her subject. Treva Gilani, former child prodigy of biochemical research in the Mountain, sat on the gas rig platform called Petrol City anchored fifteen miles out at sea.
Very good, came Treva’s mental response. I like this exercise. Your thoughts are becoming solidly focused.
Since their escape from the Mountain, they’d become fast friends, and Treva spent every opportunity helping Selah exercise her new mental abilities.
Selah tossed back a thought. Talking about focused . . . I’ve been trying hard to research the novarium who’ve come before me. I need more information than Glade is offering. I get the impression he’s stalling on purpose, even in the research I’m doing in the Repository. The Repository was the data file storage of the collective knowledge and actions of the Landers since their beginning at the Sorrows.
Treva’s thought hit Selah’s mind. Maybe he really is busy like he says. Other than our mind-jump exercises, we haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together either.
Sometimes it irritated Selah when her friend tried to find the logic in a situation she wanted to consider chaotic. I keep running into information holes and blocks in the Repository. There’s only sketchy data on a few of the Landers in the last hundred years who’ve transitioned to novarium, and no files on the actual outcomes. You would think that with the transition happening to so few, they’d have every minute of data, Selah thought.
I still have to ask. What would be Glade’s motivation to stall you? Treva thought. Selah noticed a bit of force in her delivery.
I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it’s him trying to discourage my efforts. Several times I’ve seen his name in the sign-in log at the Repository, and then mysteriously I can’t find records I know I’ve looked at before.
Glade, in his rabid determination to find a way to the West, had relayed very little information on the meaning or consequences of being novarium, the condition that had put the bright swirling tattoo below her collarbone. Selah had taken it upon herself to search out the information, and now she felt it was being hidden from her on purpose. Mother would say drill the well until it produces water.
After all you’ve told me about her, Pasha would say stop being reckless. Hang on. Treva’s thought-trail evaporated.
Selah’s ComLink vibrated through the bones in her arm, tickling her elbow. She smiled and tapped the crystal. A holographic projection of Treva’s head appeared above her wrist.
Selah laughed. “Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with you. Why’d you break the mind-jump?” She brought her right foot up onto her chair and rested her wrist on her bent knee.
“It makes me nervous to think other Landers could mind-jump and be privy to our conversation without us knowing it,” Treva said, wrinkling her nose like she’d smelled something bad.
“I did find several notations on that subject. Seems after the first couple of years of hearing each other’s every thought, some of the Landers developed a drug concoction that deadened the ability to mind-jump, until finally a lot of them lost it altogether and didn’t need the drug anymore,” Selah said.
“It’s sad that they thought to get freedom from the others they had to shut down the ability completely,” Treva said. “They could have trained themselves to close off their minds. I’ve done it since I was a child. It was a hard exercise, but in the end it’s been worth the peace.”
“I guess they thought taking a drug was easier. Maybe someone convinced them there was no other option.” Selah lifted an eyebrow. It sounded like a great start to a conspiracy.
Treva shook her head and smiled. “You could find a subversive plot under a flat stone. If I remember correctly from the stories you’ve told me, your past exploits don’t always turn out for the best. Do I have to remind you of a certain beach? Don’t go getting any ideas. I see that light in your eyes.”
Selah was thinking of exploring six different file trails at one time. She had gained much Lander data, but almost nothing on novarium or the location of the special file she wanted.
Treva furrowed her brow in thought. “Now that I think about it, that drug sounds like the one used on Glade in the Mountain to keep him from communicating with the other prisoners.”
Selah straightened. “They couldn’t be the same, could they? That would mean there was a scheme between the Mountain and at least some of the original Landers, but which ones?” Her mind sorted through all the compatible searches she could do on the data.
Treva tapped her lip, then raised a finger. “We know there are three Protocols of Landers. The original Landers who came from the Mountain were the First Protocol. Glade is one of the venerated ones in that group. The Second Protocol are the Landers who come by sea, like Bodhi. And the Third Protocol are the lost ones Glade is seeking in the West.”
“Remember, when we were in Baltimore, Glade told us about the splinter groups in the First Protocol that went renegade with their own plans. So whoever went in league with the Mountain on that drug would have to be from one of those groups.” Selah pursed her lips, then pulled them tight. “I’ve seen that word protocol used as a reference all the way back to the beginning of the Lander records at the Time of Sorrows, so somebody didn’t just make it up. What’s it mean?”
“It depends on if they were using protocol literally or figuratively. It could mean a set of rules for connecting computers, or having the same philosophy, or it could even mean a detailed research plan or a code of conduct. It’s just an odd word to use for a set of people,” Treva said.
Selah’s thoughts had already jumped into action, crossed the quadrant, and headed for the data cubes in the Repository. Her curiosity was running rampant.
“Did you find out anything about me having Lander abilities but not a mark?” Treva didn’t have clearance to use the archives at the Repository. Selah’s clearance came because Glade was the original head of the TicCity Council, and even after he’d been replaced during his incarceration, his status was still solid.
“A couple of the files I cross-referenced about that have disappeared. We already knew that the original Landers were a group of regular human people who left the Mountain after the Sorrows.” Selah wrinkled her forehead, thinking of what she knew. “And their marks didn’t show up until they left the Mountain.”
Treva nodded. “And apparently that’s when the longevity came about also. They were adult men and women of various ages who started out with the mark across their forehead and down the left temple. So if they intermarried inside the group, those children also had the mark. When they or their children married outside the group, the mark didn’t transfer and it created a whole new generation of Landers with no mark.”
“What I get from those records is there are as many types of Landers as there are nationalities of people. And not all Landers are created equal. There is a reference to some kind of test for proliferation. I didn’t find what that term meant, and the specifics on the test are missing. It was deleted on purpose, because parts of the file were in different sectors of the data cube and all those locations are now empty,” Selah said.
“But they are human! The original Landers were ordinary human people from the Mountain! I lived there my whole life, and granted, twenty years isn’t a lot, but I’ve never heard anything remotely close to talk about Landers being normal people!” Treva’s nostrils flared.
“But I can’t find anything about what happened to turn them into Landers. Some of those same people could still be alive, as is Glade.”
Treva started to laugh. “And why are they called Landers? I always thought they were just the ones who came by sea and landed on our shores. But after meeting Glade and the others, I’ve realized there are a lot more Landers who were here originally and never came by sea.”
“That’s a good question. Another is, how long will we hybrids live?” Selah felt her face warming. There. She had finally said it. She didn’t understand why asking it made her feel selfish when it was a legitimate question.
Treva gritted her teeth. “The more we know, the more there is to find out.”
“I just don’t understand why Glade won’t open up. He’s frustrating me. A lot of this includes me, so I’d like to be prepared for what’s coming.” Selah had played with that question for weeks. She now had several abilities like mind-jumping and increased physical stamina, and new dreams and the flashes were becoming common.
“Glade says he doesn’t remember anything from before they left the Mountain.” Treva looked behind her, then back toward Selah.
“Frankly, I don’t believe him anymore. That’s why I’m investigating on my own. There’s something he doesn’t want me to find out.” Selah was pretty sure from reading his body-speak, and having grown up around three males, that he was concealing something.
“You’re getting as paranoid as Cleon. It’s his idea that we’ve landed in the middle of a huge conspiracy.” Treva smiled. “And please don’t get me started on what your brother thinks. He’s driving me crazy about this trip.”
Selah tipped her head. “What trip?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Must have forgotten. I’m going to the Mountain. I’ve thought long and hard, and there are just some things I have to get. I don’t know why, but it’s been bothering me a lot lately, and I have to go.” Treva dropped her gaze.
Selah froze. It had taken a few weeks for her to stop having nightmares about the Mountain. I don’t want to go back there. Her hands shook at the thought of being shot at again.
Easy, girl! Go back to speaking words. Treva’s thoughts came in a soothing tone, then she spoke. “I don’t need you to go. Cleon said he’d accompany me. Besides, I’m also going to see how my uncle is coming with his settlement of Stone Braide. If he didn’t run into problems, they should be a thriving colony by now. Getting into my private lab won’t take much extra effort. I should have brought all my data out with me anyhow. I can be in and out in a day.”
“I don’t want you or Cleon going back to that dangerous place.” Months ago Selah had been driven by a burning desire to find her real father. But now the craziness of such a foolish venture made her feel reckless. Dragging her stepbrother Cleon and the others into danger had caused her several delayed bouts of anxiety.
The Mountain night terrors had finally faded. Now they were replaced by streaking flashes of lightning and exploding fireballs. It seemed that since she’d turned novarium, her mind never rested.
“Enough about my plans. You didn’t tell me you’re having nightmares.” Treva’s eyebrows pinched together and she frowned. “Why didn’t you say something before?”
Selah realized just how much she’d left her thoughts open in the last few minutes. Some things she just wanted kept to herself. It was an acquired skill she hadn’t mastered yet. She looked at the floor, trying to think of how much to say.
“You haven’t answered me,” Treva said.
“Don’t worry. I had some of these dreams even before changing to a novarium.”
“Apparently some dreams are new and they’ve scared you.”
“At least when I had the tsunami nightmare I knew it came from the Time of Sorrows. These new dreams have water images that I don’t understand, and it frightens me.” Selah knew there was more meaning to them, but apprehension kept her from exploring. They felt dangerous.
“When I get back from the Mountain, we’ll work on them together,” Treva said.
The word Mountain brought instant dread. Selah measured her words to not sound as panicked as she felt. “How do you think you can get into the Mountain and back out without being caught?”
“That’s not a common concern. People are perfectly able to come and go from the Mountain. No one living there is a prisoner. It’s just that a portion of them, mainly older citizens, have been brainwashed into fearing the outside world.”
“Did you ever spend time outside the Mountain when you lived in there?” Selah relaxed. She hadn’t thought about people in the Mountain having personal freedom.
“Hundreds of times! Some of the compounds I created are from plant life outside the Mountain.”
“But don’t you worry about radiation or contaminated animals?”
“No, not at all. A hundred years ago the Science Consortium verified that the radiation from the nuclear explosions in Washington, DC, had been scrubbed from the land by the tsunami, and the air particulates were made inert by some strange interaction with the ash from the super volcano eruption.”
“So the later disasters negated the original attack.”
Treva smiled. “It was quite a bit of fortune for the country that the other two happened. This land could have been a dead zone for hundreds of years.”
“Sooo, there were rabbits in our Borough we always thought were poisoned with radiation. Are you telling me they weren’t?”
“I remember reading that study when I was thirteen. They surmised something in the rabbits’ genetic code was damaged by the original radiation. The change was known to cause several kinds of abnormal cell growth akin to cancer for those who are susceptible. The rabbits aren’t actually contaminated, just changed, and some people are allergic to the genetic change like some people are allergic to fruit.”
“So why do people stay inside the Mountain?”
“Look around! Other than this Lander colony, there’s not a lot of modern conveniences out here. People don’t want to give up their technology for some real sky and bug bites. Me personally, I love being out in the fresh, non-manufactured air.”
“So why can’t you recreate your compounds without going back in the Mountain?” Selah feared something would go wrong and she’d never see Treva or her brother again.
“Because my formulas took a lot of trial and error. I need my notes, or I’d be starting the process from scratch. Believe me, there are many ways in and out of the Mountain for ordinary citizens that don’t involve security. Only outsiders are subject to security checks.”
“I just don’t like it. Maybe you’ll go for nothing. Maybe someone already found your lab and confiscated everything. Maybe—”
“Trust me. No one has found my lab. I’ve worked in it since I was nine. I lived with Uncle Charles, and he has some very special quarters. Besides, I doubt anyone even knows I’ve left the Mountain. I never had time for much social interaction, so no friends to miss me. The people I was closest to were Glade, Dr. Everling, and Drace Stemple. Glade’s with us, and the other two are . . . of no consequence anymore.”
Selah’s heartbeat calmed. It all seemed logical. Treva always seemed able to effect that change in her. “When will you leave?”
“I’ll be back on the mainland in about a half hour to forty-five minutes. The next available rig comes up in three hours, so we’ll leave as soon as we pack the gear. I have to finish the notes for the teacher handling my classes while I’m gone. Can you imagine? Ten-year-old kids learning about refined oil products. What kind of world is this up here in the north?”
“What kind of world indeed. A place where the father I’d never known to exist is now found, and the mother I’d always known is now lost. And Amaryllis, the child I reluctantly bonded to, is now bonded with someone else.” Selah gulped down the knot forming in her throat. Losing the child had caused an intense emotional reaction that she hadn’t expected. It still grabbed her chest like a tight fist.
“Are you sorry you let her go? I thought you made the right decision, you know.”
“Don’t get me wrong. When we arrived here I was happy Glade helped place her with a family. I was even encouraged that she instantly connected with the mother. Amaryllis said the woman resembled her dead mother. I was happy to be relieved of the responsibility.” Selah dropped her head. “But it hurt when she deserted me so fast.”
“I can feel your emotion. Should I pretend everything is fine, or do you want to talk?”
Selah raised her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes. This adulthood thing felt like being thrown into the horse training pond without knowing how to swim. There were still times she needed parental advice and a shoulder for support. Glade didn’t have the experience, and it made him as uncomfortable as her when she tried to make a connection. “I want peace. I thought finding Glade and coming north would solve my problems, but it just seems to have created more.” She sat up straight. “I’d be real happy to find my family, but I think I have to find the peace within myself.”
“Is there any expectation you can locate your mother and stepfather?”
Selah hoped so. She was confident that if there came an opportunity to explain herself to her stepfather, she could regain his love and respect. Mother had to be wrong about how he’d feel finding out she was part Lander. After all, he’d been the only father she’d known for her whole eighteen years of life. And she and Cleon had even come to a plausible explanation for Raza’s death that didn’t include his vitriolic rant about her and Mother, or that fateful fight.
“Not yet. Glade sent my navigator, Jaenen Malik, to find them. Hopefully he can get word to Mother that I’m safe here.”
“By the way, why are you calling your father by his given name?”
“After I spent so many years calling Varro Chavez ‘Father,’ Glade told me to call him whatever felt comfortable. So I call him by his name.”
“In time you’ll find the peace to call him ‘Father.’ I’m sure he’d be pleased.”
Selah’s fear that Glade might leave her again fed her insecurity, and she hated that feeling. She knew Glade loved her, but since he was head of the Archaeological Department at the Institute of Higher Learning, his mandate was research and archaeological discoveries of what lay hidden by the volcanic ash beyond the Appalachian Mountains. That was his real love, regardless of her birthright. She resented feeling inferior to a mountain range.
“Will I see you and Cleon before you leave?” Selah leaned her head against the high back of her chair.
“Yes, I’ll call you when I get in. I need to finish my notes before the shuttle leaves. Bye.”
The ComLink disconnected.
Selah lowered her arm, swiveled away from the window, and reached across the desk to finger a glass vase overflowing with Mother’s favorite cornflowers. Beyond the vase, a panorama of the same rich blue flowers covered the three interior walls of this large area in her living suite. The area doubled as a sitting room and office, and the wall decor used full-length photo-plate cells she could change at will. Selah pressed a pad on her desk console. Cornflowers turned to sand and the peaceful blue waves of the sea outside. It complemented the tan floor covering and black molded furniture.
At the moment, she didn’t want to see more cornflowers. The color reminded her of the multicolored blue flecks in Bodhi’s eyes. Pinpricks of frustration and anger bubbled in her chest. Why did it have to be so complicated? They’d started out fine when they first arrived here, but over the months his attention had waned. She hadn’t seen much of him in the last few weeks.
She’d never had a relationship before Bodhi, and she didn’t know what she’d done wrong. Mother would know what to do. Maybe if she changed her hair or got clothes like the city girls here. She pressed her lips tight. She wanted him back.
Selah strolled across the room and leaned against the long expanse of glass overlooking the remnant-strewn beach and the Atlantic. This modern world of TicCity was strangely out of sync with the life she’d known in Dominion Borough. At home, the ancient cities were completely abandoned and mostly reclaimed by the environment, but here in the north, the old and new existed side by side. The tsunami during the Sorrows had destroyed most of this city and the huge three-dimensional sign bearing the name Atlantic City, New Jersey. All that remained, protruding from the sea sand like a giant finger, was “tic City.”
The name had stuck. Personally, she found it distasteful. It sounded like some vermin that would suck the life from one of her farm animals, but that wasn’t the only strangeness around here. She was never quite sure what to expect.
She found comfort in pressing her cheek against the silky smooth surface of the glass. There wasn’t much real glass back home, but she missed being there. Her emotions betrayed her with constant turmoil, and her thoughts were sometimes an incoherent jumble. The other day she had cried watching a calf being born at Cleon’s farm. A calf! She’d seen dozens of calves born in Dominion. It was nothing to cry about.
And the flashes. Tremors and thunders had turned to bright flashes of lightning and an anticipation of what was to come.
A tear slid down her cheek and married itself to the glass as it continued toward the floor.
A tinkling vibration.
Glass against glass.
She pushed off from the window and turned.
Nothing looked out of place, although the water in the glass vase on her desk shimmered in concentric circles, then stilled. Light radiated through the colored glass beads that filled half the container.
A knock sounded.
Selah walked to the door and swiped her hand over the entrance lock.
The door swung wide to admit Jaenen Malik. When they’d passed through Baltimore on the way here from the Mountain, Glade had been convinced to hire Jaenen as security for Selah when they traveled, and he had proved worthy by saving her from attack in his very first hours on the job. Apparently being a novarium could start a war.
Jaenen hoisted a pack from his shoulder. Not only was he excellent at security and investigating missing people, he was just plain good to look at. Standing five feet nine, he had hair so dark it looked black until the sun showed the auburn highlights. His claim to fame was a crooked, easy smile set in a solid jaw that always needed a shave, and dark eyes with lashes so thick they created their own air current. Jaenen was effective at his job because of his charm, especially with women. But Selah had lived with brothers for many years—she was immune.
“And how is Selah doing on this fine day?” The quick flash of his smile lightened her sour mood. Since he had saved her in Baltimore, Selah believed he was mostly sincere and had no ulterior motives, other than the large sums of bio-coin that Glade was paying him. And she considered him an ally—after all, he’d given her a location for a secret Repository file that should shed light on Bodhi’s condition.
“I’d be much better if you could tell me you’ve spoken with my mother,” Selah said. A caravan of merchants had passed through Dominion Borough going south two months ago, and again on their way back north last month. No one had been able to contact her mother.
He searched his bag but didn’t speak. Not a good sign.
“I’m sorry. None of your family was there. Only these people.” He set a quartz data cube on the desk and pressed the top. A holographic image projected above the cube.
“Maybe a neighbor knows if something happened.” Selah peered at the image of two men with bulky muscles leaning on field rakes near a barn. Her family’s barn! Her throat tightened.
“The neighbors at the homesteads on either side said the same thing. One day your family was there, and the next day they were gone. No goodbye. Nothing.”
She pointed at the bare arm of the man on the right. “Can you enlarge this?”
Jaenen manipulated the cube to increase the image size. “The word from these men was that the family would be gone for an extended period of time—”
“No!” A lightning charge surged up her spine, exploding inside her head with a burst of color that pulled a scream from her lips. Tears puddled her eyes, but still she stared.
A Waterside Borough tattoo, a sword laced with a lightning bolt, covered the man’s upper arm. Her head swam. Selah’s world faded to a blur as her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor.
Jaenen grabbed her under the arms before she hit, lifting her back to her feet. She collapsed against his chest. Her worst fears had borne fruit. The drums of petrol in the barn . . . Her stepfather must have gotten a large dowry for her marriage to the Waterside Borough leader’s son. A marriage that did not happen. Now—repayment.
The door slammed against the wall. “Selah, I heard—” Bodhi stopped at the sight of Selah leaning against Jaenen. A storm cloud furrowed his brow.
Selah raised her head. “My mother, stepfather, and little brother are gone. It’s all my fault.”
Bodhi folded his arms across his chest. “What’s he doing here?”
Jaenen released Selah and picked up the data cube, flicking off the visual.
“I could ask why you think you have the right to barge in here. Didn’t you hear me? My family is missing!” Selah set her jaw and wiped her eyes. Her world was falling apart, and all he cared about was some kind of male bravado.
Bodhi stared daggers at the back of Jaenen’s head as the man returned the cube to his bag. “I thought Glade hired a different navigator to search for your family. This one’s supposed to be your security detail.”
Selah made a face. “I’m safe here in TicCity. I wanted Jaenen, so that’s who he hired. You don’t seem to have the least bit of compassion for my loss. What’s wrong with you?” Irritation grew in her like an exploding milkweed pod.
“I’ll give you the rest of my report when you’re not busy.” Jaenen didn’t look at Selah. He slung the bag back over his shoulder, edged around Bodhi, and went out the door.
Selah knew there was no use protesting his leaving. Bodhi and Jaenen had developed a ragged past of mutual confrontation, and Bodhi usually wound up with the upper hand.
He glared at the retreating man, then slammed the door as Jaenen exited the threshold. He turned on Selah. “He’s got quite a reputation with the ladies.”
Selah’s eyes narrowed to slits. She stormed forward and poked him in the chest. “It figures. I tell you my family is missing and you make everything about what you don’t like. Listen, you sea slug. I’ve seen you about a half dozen times in the last month.” A finger poke punctuated each sentence. “I’m a grown woman, and you’re no more my keeper than my stepfather is anymore. So you get no say in who I hire to do anything. Got that?”
Bodhi flashed a grin. “I’m back to being a sea slug?” She had called him that the first moment they met on the beach.
Selah’s mouth opened in frustration. Her fingers spread into claws and then clenched into fists. She closed her eyes and shook with anger. “You’re making me crazy. And I’m pretty much immune to your cuteness now. This is serious. Glade is so busy with his research that I rarely see him, and I don’t even have you for sanity support. That leaves me with Treva and Cleon. Thanks.”
Bodhi pressed his lips together. “I heard you about your family. I didn’t expect this report to be different from the caravan report last month. I just figured it would take time for you to come to terms with the outcome.” He hesitated. “We can’t be together right now. I have things to work out.”
Her first real love . . . and now his rejection. She just didn’t understand men and wished her mother were here for advice.
“On a daily basis, I have no one to talk to about the physical and mental changes I’m going through. You deserted me. You don’t even mind-jump with me anymore.” Selah’s eyes filled with tears. Things he had to work out—indeed. She blinked back the moisture, refusing to allow herself pity at the coldness of his betrayal.
Bodhi dropped his head and muttered something.
Selah tipped her head to look in his downcast eyes. An errant tear splashed her cheek. She roughly brushed it away with the back of her hand. “What did you say?”
Bodhi’s lip curled and he gritted his teeth. “I said I can’t hear you anymore.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not blocking you.”
“I’ve lost it. I can’t hear Lander thoughts. It’s as though I’ve turned human.”
“But you are—” Selah reined in her tongue. Shouldn’t he already know he’s human? Wait. He had given her an explanation once before. Did that mean Second Protocol Landers weren’t human, or did they just not know they were human? She needed to find out if being human meant the same thing for all Protocols of Landers. Could she bring it up with Glade? Or would he take away her privileges in the Repository for delving into things she shouldn’t?
She leaned over and swept back the hair from his forehead. “I don’t believe you. It’s not possible. You still have the mark.”
But she did believe him, and it was all her fault. Transitioning her into a novarium had done something to his body chemistry. Jaenen had tried to explain that Bodhi was going to have a dramatic decline in his abilities, but she didn’t completely understand. If Bodhi wouldn’t come out and say anything about it, Selah didn’t want to embarrass him by letting on she knew.
The look in his eyes softened to longing. He quickly recovered and pushed her hand away. “Do you think I’d lie to you about something that important?”
“Well, no. I didn’t mean to accuse you of any dishonesty. It’s just that I don’t understand how this could happen. Glade still has his abilities and so do the rest of the Landers who were in the prison with him.” Selah ran a hand through her hair. “Are you sure you’re not just stressed or something? Did you visit the healer?” Maybe Jaenen was wrong about Bodhi’s condition.
“I don’t want those people near me.” Bodhi’s cheeks reddened.
Selah raised both hands. “Then I can’t help you, or you won’t let me help you.”
Bodhi jerked back. “I can take care of my own problems.”
“Same goes for me. You don’t get to make choices for me. We don’t have a bond anymore.” Selah squared her shoulders, opened the door, and gestured him out.
He stared at her, searching her eyes. For a moment she thought he was going to pull her close. Then his shoulders slumped. He hung his head and left.
She leaned her head against the door. Why wouldn’t he go see the healer? He was suffering the loss of his abilities because of her. He had probably pulled away because he resented her.
The dam burst. Anger bubbled up in her.
The tinkling vibration from earlier grew in intensity.
Smash!
Selah spun to face the noise.
Her glass vase lay in pieces at the base of the photo-plate cell wall, water dripping down the image of an ocean wave.