The Power Within (5 page)

“All the time”?
Darren thought.
That doesn't sound like “all the time” to me. It sounds more like “hardly ever.”

“And, Ray—whenever you want to hang out, my door is open,” Dad continued. “You'll have your own key and everything.”

“Darren, baby,” Mom tried again. “You've been so quiet. Are you all right? Is there anything you want to ask us?”

Darren pressed his lips together tightly. The truth was, he had about a million questions—starting with why Mom was searching for apartment listings in New Brighton on her laptop. But even more urgent than his questions was the fear hammering away inside his heart. His fists were clenched, but not just because he was angry; Darren could feel that familiar crackle snapping through his fingers. Right now, he could barely control his emotions, let alone his powers. Everything in his world seemed uncertain, upside down. There was
only one thing Darren knew for sure: he had to get out of there.

“May I be excused?” he asked quietly.

Mom and Dad exchanged another glance. “Sure,” Mom said. “We're here for you whenever you want to talk, honey.”

Of course you are—except when Dad leaves, or you're backed up at work, or you don't feel like it,
Darren thought as his anger got the better of him.

As he hurried from the living room and charged up the stairs, he could hear Ray. “Look how upset he is,” Ray was saying. “You couldn't have held it together for a few more years, until he goes to college? I sure hope you're happy. Since your happiness seems to matter more than anyone else's.”

Before Mom or Dad could reply, Darren was in his bedroom. He slammed the door—harder than he meant to—and flipped on the light. Then Darren leaned against the door so that no one could come in and, at last, exhaled, a jagged breath that made his chest ache. In a matter of moments, his whole world had cracked wide open, and it hurt worse than he ever could've imagined.

It's not that the news was a surprise. The joke, Darren thought bitterly, was that he had been in denial for such a long time.
Stupid,
he thought.
You saw
all
the signs and you still pretended—you still hoped—

Darren's thoughts were all-consuming, but somewhere in his consciousness he became aware of a dull buzzing noise, like the sound of bees swarming on a summer's day. His palms were warm—uncomfortably warm—and between the heat and the noise, it was enough to pull Darren from his thoughts. He stared down at his hands, which glowed with pulsing electricity. Darren blinked and looked again, but the glow was only more intense. And it was spreading.

He yanked up his sleeves, and his mouth dropped open in astonishment. Crackling bolts of electricity were racing up his veins, illuminating them beneath his skin.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

The lights overhead flickered ominously.

You've gotta get ahold of your powers,
Darren scolded himself. He was losing control—it was slipping farther and farther out of reach with every passing second as
his emotions surged, threatening to overwhelm him and everything else.

With Ms. Therian's warning ringing in his head, Darren remembered the breathing exercises Gabriella always did when her
nahual
powers started to break through.
Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . ,
he thought.

There was a knock at the door.

No,
Darren thought anxiously.
Get out of here!
He wasn't even close to regaining control.

“D, it's me.” Ray's voice, low and comforting, floated through the closed door. “Can I come in?”

In his heart Darren wanted nothing more than to see Ray—Ray, who knew exactly how he felt; Ray, who would understand everything. But the electrical currents were still racing up his arms and growing stronger—

“I—I just want to be alone,” Darren said in a strangled voice. “Can we—can we talk tomorrow?”

On the other side of the door, Ray was quiet for a long moment. In the silence, Darren could hear something besides the thrum of electricity under his skin: a long, low rumble of thunder.

“Whatever you want, buddy,” Ray finally said. “I'm here for you. Any time.”

“Thanks,” Darren said gratefully. But when he heard Ray's footsteps retreating down the stairs, he felt even worse. No one at school—not even his Changer friends—could understand the kind of pain Darren felt. Only Ray could, and by sending him away, Darren knew he was truly alone. The thought made his hands burn even hotter.

Boom!

The house shuddered from the sound of the thunder; the storm was moving fast. The lights flickered repeatedly; with mounting horror, Darren realized that they were flickering in unison with his hands. Then suddenly, Darren heard the pounding of rain on the roof.

The storm had arrived.

And it was calling him, pulling him toward the window. Darren found himself moving across the room, throwing sparks with every motion. He yanked back the curtains and shoved the window open.

The blast of cool air felt good on his burning skin. Overhead, the billowing clouds churned, as wild as
the ocean during a hurricane. Bolts of lightning glimmered and crackled—two, three, ten at a time. Darren had never seen anything like it, and even through his anguish he could acknowledge its beauty. He held his hands in the air and watched them crackle with lightning, pulsing in time with the massive bolts overhead.

It's me,
he realized.
I've caused this storm.

His powers . . . They were greater than Darren had ever dreamed. As the lights went out, plunging the entire street into darkness, a terrible realization dawned on him.
What will I do if I can't get control?
he wondered.
What will happen if Mom and I move to New Brighton, away from my friends and Ms. Therian and the First Four?

How will I ever learn to control my powers without them?

At lunch the next day, Gabriella joined her soccer friends. “What's up?” she asked the other girls, who were clustered around Josie's cell phone.

Trisha, the team captain, glanced up. “You have
got
to see this video,” she said. “Did you hear the big storm last night?”

Gabriella nodded. “Definitely—the power went out, and I couldn't finish blow-drying my hair. You know how miserable it is to sleep with wet hair?”

Trisha grimaced sympathetically. “That's the worst,” she replied. “The storm was
really
bad. When you see Josie's video, you'll totally understand why we all lost power.”

Gabriella leaned in close as Josie played the video again. At first the video was pretty unremarkable. Sure, it was a big storm, but Willow Cove was close enough to the ocean that strong rainstorms were pretty frequent.

As the storm grew, though, Gabriella found herself captivated by the video. There was so much lightning that the dense wall of clouds seemed to glow from within.

“Just wait until the lightning
really
gets going,” Josie said. “In five, four, three, two—”

Crack!

“That house!” Gabriella exclaimed as a massive bolt of lightning ripped through the sky. It almost made a direct hit—

“Wait for it,” said Josie.

Then the clouds seemed to explode as another enormous bolt suddenly scattered into a swirling fireball of sparks. Gabriella's breath caught in her throat as it happened again: all those blazing sparks pulled together into a thick bolt that came perilously close to hitting the same house again and again.

And again.

And again.

“Crazy, right?” Trisha's voice cut through Gabriella's thoughts. “I've never seen lightning do that before.”

“Yeah,” Gabriella managed to say.

“You should put it online,” Lauren told Josie.

“Ooh, great idea,” Josie said, and she uploaded the video. “Do you think it will go viral?”

“It might,” Abby replied. “And speaking of going viral, did you see Crash Course's new video?”

As her friends began chatting excitedly about their favorite band's latest release, Gabriella tuned them out. Her mind was whirling with thoughts—about the storm, the lightning, and what, exactly, was at the center of it all. No one else had seemed to notice that the house directly beneath the storm and all those strange lightning bolts belonged to someone they all knew.

It was where Darren lived.

Gabriella was still thinking about the video as she walked across the parking lot after soccer practice to meet Ms. Therian and Darren. Obviously, Darren would've been aware of the storm—it was happening literally above his house—but had he caused it? And if
so, did he even realize it? Gabriella had struggled so hard to keep her
nahual
powers under control; to be honest, she was still struggling, but weekly coaching from Gabriella's aunt, Tía Rosa, was helping a lot. She knew, though, that she'd never forget the dread and hopelessness she felt when her powers overcame her against her will.
If Darren's going through that, I
have
to talk to him,
she thought. Gabriella didn't want him to feel as alone as she had before her aunt started helping her.

Then she shook her head.
But what if he thinks I'm accusing him of causing the storm?
she thought.
Or, worse, he thinks I'm saying he can't handle his powers?

Then Gabriella thought about Darren's performance in Changers class that afternoon, which had been disastrous again. For a moment Gabriella had wondered if Ms. Therian would still let him go on their mission this afternoon. Gabriella had learned the hard way that her own powers were even more difficult to control when her emotions were running high. Could the same thing be happening for Darren?

When Gabriella reached Ms. Therian's car, Darren and Ms. Therian were already there.
I'll have to wait until
Darren and I are alone to talk to him,
Gabriella thought. The last thing she wanted was to get him in more trouble with Ms. Therian.

“Excellent,” Ms. Therian said as Gabriella jogged over to them. “Into the car. I'll brief you both on the way.”

After everyone put on their seat belts, Ms. Therian pulled out of the parking lot. “As I told you yesterday, Jai disappeared the previous Thursday,” she began. “He was last seen by his father that afternoon. Apparently, Jai met up with some friends to ride his bike through the park, which they did until about thirty minutes before sunset, when they split up for the day. Jai said he was going home but never arrived. His bike was found abandoned on the trail the next morning.”

Gabriella closed her eyes and pictured it: the fading light, the dead leaves crunching underfoot, the boy who never made it home. She shivered with a sudden, unspeakable fear. “How long has Jai known he was a Changer?” she asked.

“A few months,” Ms. Therian replied. “He is unusually skilled. In fact, he came into his powers earlier than expected. He's just eleven.”

“But I thought Changer powers didn't show up until their twelfth birthday,” Darren spoke up.

“That is almost always the case,” said Ms. Therian. “But it has been known to happen—especially when one has been born with exceptionally strong powers. Of course, it is not just that the powers show up early. They tend to reveal themselves in an unusually dramatic way.”

That got Gabriella's attention. “Did that happen with Jai?” she asked.

Ms. Therian sighed. “It did,” she said. “
Naga
wield control over water and weather, among other powers. Jai did not mean to, of course, but he caused a terrible flood in Middletown.”

“I remember that!” Gabriella exclaimed. “They said it was the worst flood in two hundred years!”