Iron Inheritance (12 page)

“Right through here.” Duke punched in a code on a metal keypad at the base of a wall that looked exactly like the rest. If he hadn’t bent down and pointed it out, I would have thought it was just part of the base board.

Behind the wall, several pistons hissed and clunked before the whole thing swung forward.

It was like going from night to day, and my jaw dropped with the difference.

A bright white, state-of-the-art lab sprawled on for hundreds of feet in front of us. Crystal clear beakers and tubes and centrifuges and more vials of colored liquid than I had ever seen lined the crisp, white walls. There were lab tables set up with sleek computers on one end of the room, burners and sinks and overhead displays of cell walls and bacteria on the other.

“Smell that?” Freddy inhaled as he stepped inside, his orange Hawaiian shirt clashing wonderfully with every piece of professional equipment.

“Ammonia?” I said.

“N. O.” He grinned and waited. “Nitrogen and Oxygen.”

Nate was the only one to chuckle. Periodic Table humor always got to him for some reason.

“It’s not their preferred method anymore, but Babylonians used to enjoy biological warfare quite a bit.” Duke leaned on a counter, his silver watch glinting in the overhead light. From this angle, I could almost make out little silver wings ticking around the black circle. “Nearly every headquarters has a lab like this. A lot of Patrons with non-Warrior and Messenger talents actually end up going into science-related careers just in case Babylonians decide to start up again. Good is always reactionary in that way, I suppose,” he added bitterly.

“Baking soda. That’s what I remember,” said Ria, her eyes growing wide as she surveyed an oblong beaker. “So much baking soda.”

I pictured the volcano with green lava that had consumed the dining room table, half the kitchen, and Ria’s pet gerbil. Not a pretty sight, especially when Grandpa caught us.

“I can’t believe you actually teach real science here. Most religious people I’ve ever met avert their ears from anything verifiable,” I said, still looking around in awe.

“Thee of little faith,” Josh raised an eyebrow. “Patrons are the reason Smallpox, Polio, and Tetanus have vaccines.”

I looked to our tour guide to verify. He couldn’t be more than two or three years older than me, probably the same age as Josh.

Duke nodded. “Nothing for cancer yet, but they’re still working on it.”

“Impressive.”

“If you’re interested, I can make a recommendation that you be placed on a medical track. We have connections and spots open at almost every major university in the country.”

My eyes bulged far beyond their limits. “You’re serious? This place gets people into colleges? What about journalism for NYU? I mean I’m already in, but—”

I couldn’t believe this. A glimpse of the life I’d planned came back into view. What about graduation? Would I still go to NYU this summer?…Or stay here?

“Absolutely.” Duke nodded. “That shouldn’t be too tough. We haven’t had a Patron reporter in a while. It would be nice for the truth to come out in the papers for once.”

“Wait,” said Ria, her brow furrowed. “So you’re telling me that you make all Patrons come to these community colleges after high school, train them how to use their talents, and then place them in different careers around the country right under everybody’s noses?”

“Anywhere around the world, but yes, that’s the idea.” Duke nodded, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Patrons are supposed to understand and sympathize with humans in their youth, train as young adults, and protect as adults. Not every job involves going out and fighting demons.”

“It might need to one day,” Josh said, leaning back on the counter with his hands behind his head, his triceps flexing.

“So Denisov believes.” Duke inclined his head politely.

“All I heard was I get into a fancy college with Evey if I stay here.” Ria wrapped her arms around me.

I smiled, my body suddenly tense, my mind unwilling to admit why.

“Come on, there’s more to see.” Duke led us out.

The greenhouse was an engineering marvel. Mirrors reflected sun all the way down from the surface and filled the entire room with light. Next was a giant storage room with enough MREs and canned food for a city. The whole school was supposed to be able to survive for a year with the surrounding community included.

Grandpa would’ve been proud.

Every so often, we came to a gray stone courtyard area that seemed to act as a hub for more tunnels. We rested and drank from a medieval-looking water fountain. Duke stretched as he leaned back against a giant stone column holding up the ceiling and the hundred tons of earth above it. I still had no idea how they’d manage to dig all this out.

“I think I have to head back up now.” Duke checked his watch and passed slips of paper to Ria, Josh, and me. Nate didn’t even raise his hand to accept one, and Duke didn’t attempt to give him one. “Here are your schedules. Again, Morales wants you to take things slow for now, and I have to agree after what you’ve been through.” He paused, his gray eyes looking at me with every bit of sympathy they could muster. “But still, if you’d like to attend my class, it’s going to start soon, and you can follow me up. Even those of you not assigned to it.” He glanced at Josh and Ria.

The little square of paper dropped the scales from my eyes. Did this mean I was staying here? That this was going to be my life now? What about NYU? What about the few weeks of high school I technically still had left?

Ria was more excited than ever. She bounced on her toes and even smiled at Nate. “What do you think, Evey?”

I forced a smile as my stomach tied itself in knots. How could I really go back to that life without Grandpa? This was the only place where I could find more about him, more about the Babylonians. “Lead the way.”

Duke and Nate looked at me knowingly for half a second, each of their eyes sympathetic and skeptical.

We arrived in Duke’s large classroom fifteen minutes later and found it already packed with students and a giant Tesla coil.

Duke stepped to the side of the copper cylinder, the white coil above it like a giant pancake about to flop onto his head. “With enough control over your essence, you can learn to shield it from prying eyes, influence emotion, and even create mirages for humans. The first step is control, though.” He smiled and gestured for the class to make a circle. “Feet on the white line.”

The class moved as a unit and spread out along the painted white circle I’d failed to notice when I walked in. It was a large room, and we were now all about four feet from each other to the right and left. The Tesla coil was the only thing in front of us.

“Electroshock therapy.” I nodded. “Peachy. Not my favorite class back home, but neither was water boarding.”

“I love boogie boards.” Freddy laughed, his belly jiggling under his orange shirt.

Josh grinned from ear to ear. “Electricity and essence are almost the same, in a way. Something about the wavelengths. When he turns that thing on, just make sure to stretch out your hand and take deep breaths.”

“Ria, you’re going to need to come back here with me.” Nate’s voice cut through the din of conversation.

Ria and I turned around at the same time. Nate’s khaki shirt and red hair were like beacons for our glares.

“He’s right.” Josh tapped my shoulder. “Humans can’t do this without a big metal cage around ’em.”

“Sorry,” Nate added, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, his head down.

Ria looked like she might murder Josh and Nate and me just for good measure, but eventually, she stepped away from the line and stomped to the outer wall, far away from Nate.

“First, take a couple deep breaths to focus your essence,” said Duke, gesticulating air moving in and out of his lungs. “Good. Good. Everyone is calm.” He looked at each person in turn. “We access our souls through our minds; thus, we need to quiet all thoughts.”

I snickered. Duke’s meticulously ironed clothes and rigid posture didn’t exactly scream calm.

“Eve, focus your breathing a bit more.” Duke’s gaze flicked to me and stopped.

I filled and emptied my lungs several more times, my muscles relaxing, my arms hanging at my side.

Duke stepped forward. “Your essence is still very active.” He paused. “Maybe if you have something to focus on.” He turned and pointed to a girl on the opposite side of the circle. “That’s Cheryl in the pink. See how hers looks?”

I peered across the circle and found the girl. She was blond and wore a pink tank top. I looked down at my own shirt. Did he want me to change?

“No.” Duke shook his head like he’d heard my thought. “Your essence, your spirit. Make yours look as calm as hers.”

“I don’t think she can see yet,” said Josh, barely more than a whisper.

Duke’s eyes widened for a millisecond, and then returned to their calm and collected level of professionalism. “Well, today just focus on your breathing. We’ll work on it from there.” He smiled and turned away.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?” I turned to Josh, my gaze flicking around the room, my palms starting to sweat. I hated being the last to know things.

He smirked like he’d never really thought of the question—a fact that infuriated me all the more.

“It’s like God cracked an egg over everybody’s head. We’re all swimming in the yoke.”

I squinted and shook my head, my whole body heating up now.
He’s an idiot.

“Imagine a colored light that’s shining all around you. It swirls around you, comes out of you, follows you wherever you go.” Josh tried again. “Don’t worry. Just keep breathing like Duke told you.”

“Everybody ready?” called Duke from the other side of the room, his hand on a giant metal lever in the wall.

I sucked in more air than my lungs were comfortable holding, held it, then let it all out. I blinked again and again, but there was no light, no damn yoke cracking over my head. The floors, the walls, the people were the same old muted colors. I imagined the glowing blue Grandpa had around his sword, the green of Nate’s whip. Was that what I was supposed to be seeing?

If Grandpa had just told me the truth, this would be a lot easier.

The giant metal switch clunked into place, and the air tingled with a thousand strands of white light. Fine hairs of electricity shot out of the top of the coil and danced across the ceiling.

I stuck out my hand like the rest of them and cringed for the inevitable surge that would melt the fillings out of my molars, for the moment when the lightning would come for me.

It all came for me.

I saw it spin.

I saw the air sizzle.

I saw each jagged line.

“No!” I thrust my hand above me, and the electric current bent up into the ceiling as Grandpa jumped in front of me again with a flash of white that surged shame into my bones.

The metal clunk of the switch and Josh’s voice snapped me back.

“Eve, you all right?”

I still had my hand raised, and my lungs gasped for air. I whipped my head around at Josh and felt tears on my cheeks as cool air passed over them.

His blue eyes softened when they met mine, but he cast his glance downward almost as quickly, fixed upon the floor.

I looked up at the ceiling and saw a scorch mark as black as the shadow that kept sending my mind into the past.

The next two weeks passed slowly even after I learned that scorch marks on the ceiling were a normal part of Duke’s classes. Miranda was known for making at least one every week, earning her the nickname Pyro. Not exactly glamorous, but it was fitting.

I still couldn’t see essence fully—a skill everyone else already had, if it was even considered a skill. It came so naturally to them. Sometimes if I squinted enough and stayed still, people seemed brighter, but that was about it.

I pushed my hand through my chocolate brown hair and squeezed the back of my neck as I sat at my desk, the professor droning on and beyond. Duke and Josh and even Nate admitted that my essence was bright and leaping off my body—a clear indication that I was ready to show one of the seven talents—but in every single way except one I felt completely normal.

I felt tired.

I felt hungry.

I felt bored.

I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach when Josh caught me staring at him.

But most of all, I felt angry. I’d never felt so angry in my whole life. It boiled everything else away. There weren’t any more tears left in me, just steam that clenched my fingers into fists.

There had to be something in this place that would help me when I came up against one of Kovac’s followers. There had to be more of them. Throw a stone here, and I could find someone who knew Grandpa as one of the greatest Patrons in the last century. It had to be the same with Kovac among the Babylonians, especially with all the power he had. He couldn’t have been acting alone.

Not that I really understood even half of this essence crap, anyway.

I leaned back and breathed in deeply to calm down. Dust particles swirled around the heavy earthen tablets, ancient pottery, and actual Dead Sea Scrolls in display cases around the perimeter of the class. Finkelstein, a jittery old professor prone to cowering at sudden noises and dressed in tweed, talked in a monotone as he flicked from one slide on the projector to the next, each one a review of the library sessions I used to fill my time in between classes and meals and every other waking moment. If I wasn’t there trying to find out more about the Babylonians, I was in the arena, running and training my body to the point of exhaustion. Each reminded me of Grandpa in a different way, and each was the only way I could sleep anymore.

“Slide.” Finkelstein’s voice rang out even though he was in charge of pushing the button.

The photo on the screen was a sky of blues and golds except for the center where a dark chasm led down into a fiery trench of molten red. The vantage point was so far away that I couldn’t make out any distinct figures in the painting, but thousands of black shadows seemed to fall through the hole in the sky into the fiery pit below.