Book Two
part one
And suddenly I’m in the lake two miles southeast of my home, immersed a good yard under the water. The silky water flows through my hair as I swim and cycle throughout it and my skin feels unsuppressed, free. I surface, able to breathe again, and take a deep gasp, inhaling the misty water. It’s a warm summer afternoon, and I’m alone wading in this water. I grin and dive once more, happy to be an otter for a few minutes more.
I surface again, and Brendan is sitting on a rock nearby, smiling at me. His long brown hair is long and tousled, rolling in the calm wind, and his bright, green eyes look down at me with the modest command of a king.
“Brendan, what are you doing here?”
“Watching you swim,” he says, his bright baritone voice almost echoing.
“You should join me,” I suggest, smiling at him.
“But if I did that, I’d get cold.”
“Cold?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “It’s a balmy 98 degrees on a cloudless day, and you’re worried about getting cold. Only you, my friend.”
He chuckles at me as someone emerges from the brush behind him. “Brendan!” It’s Colton. Colton’s slightly taller than his younger twin Brendan, and he sports the same hairstyle. His eyes aren’t as bright as Brendan’s; instead, they’re a darker jade green, paled a bit. Colton and Brendan are both Shadowers, so they’re unable to control the luminosity of their eyes which changes according to their mood, brighter when happy, paler when sad. Shadowers, or Shaders, are psychics who can hide something in plain sight, making it appear translucent or invisible. “We need to find Gabe!” he continues, before he spots me. He grins at me, his smile identical to his brother’s. “Found him!”
“Yeah,” I snort. “You’re an idiot!” I laugh.
“Hey!” Colton points at me, looking serious. “Only in days ending in Y!”
Brendan rolls his eyes and removes his shirt.
“Finally coming in?” I ask him, thrilled that I won’t be alone.
“Dude, it’s so hot,” he replies, casting the blue thing to the ground, and goes for his pants button. I smile at him. I’ve missed him.
“Do I wanna swim, or do I wanna just sit here…” Colton mumbles.
“Do either?” I suggest, clueless. “Where’s Chrys?”
“She had to get her swimming suit,” Colton finishes. “I told you she was a clairvoyant.”
“Clair…voyant,” I echo. “Never heard it put quite that way before.”
Brendan, slightly-toned and tall, cannonballs into the water, splashing me. He surfaces and shivers a little! “Hoooooo! It’s cold!”
“Yeeeeah,” I say, used to the temperature, “I meant to warn you.” I chuckle at him, lips pursed. He glares back, lips puckered, and dives, swimming down toward the bottom of the lake. Meanwhile, his brother glares at his clothes.
“Colton, what are you doing?” I laugh.
“Shading. Shh!”
I roll my eyes and dive, following Brendan. The water starts to fade to black, enclosing him in darkness, and the water shifts violently left and right, like a solid. I swim faster, trying to catch up to him, and the water starts to swirl, faster and faster, and the reserve oxygen in my lungs starts to deplete as the water punches me in the gut. The water, once clear and silky, is something no light can penetrate. I concentrate, trying to develop a camera. Nothing. I feel something metal around my ears…

I wake to Kira shaking me. “Hey,” she says.
The train’s brakes are screeching, muffled and quieted by the thick, metal walls, and the train is slowing to a halt. I taste iron again. I shiver and look at her.
“You alright? You were…like…thrashing for a second there.”
The words come out almost incredulously. “I was…thrashing?” That’s…strange.
She nods, verifying. “Not violently, but yeah. You were, like, writhing and moaning as if you were in pain or something. What did you dream about?”
I put a hand to my lungs which feel cold, as if filled with seawater. “I…was…” I turn my head toward the window, hiding my eyes from her. “…drowning.”
“Adela,” Kira calls. I can feel her eyes on me, anxious.
“What?” Adela replies from the back of the cabin.
“Come here for a second.”
“I will when the train stops.”
The cabin slows and finally jolts to a sudden halt. The G-forces almost send Adela to us with a yelp. I have to grip the seat in front of me not to bite it myself. Kira seems unaffected. I look at her, lips pursed in wonder.
Adela sits in the seat behind me with her trademark grin to Kira. “What’s up?”
“Gabe had a dream that he was drowning.”
Adela blinks at her. “Oooookay. And?”
“Well, is he alright?”
“It was just a dream. I would like to think so.”
“I’m fine,” I lukewarmly chuckle.
The cabin doors hiss open, and the wheels at the bottom of each door which allow it to slide open roll against the floor. I stand and put on my backpack, just as the intercom comes alive.
“Welcome to Hikari Hiroba Station, Koto, Pincock Territory. Enjoy your visit, and thanks for riding Consigahria Transnational. The train will be halted for ten minutes before again departing.”
Mick walks into the cabin with a groan. “So!” he breathes. “Koto. As promised.”
“Thanks, Mick,” Adela says. “You helped us fix our lives. Now all you need to fix is your hairline.”
Mick looks up as if he could see it, then bursts out in hearty laughter. I blink at him, wide-eyed and confused. Apparently that was a joke. “She’s got jokes, eh, Gabe!” he chokes out, before  continuing his laughing, holding his protruding belly. It shakes up and down with each vocalization, warranting a smile from me.
Kira and Adela giggle behind me, and I exit the train. My shoes clack against the brick as the scent of Koto blows in my face. The train station is much fancier than Kaito Courthouse Square—the tall, glistening buildings whose windows gradually change color, the people dressed in professional clothing who pass me onto the train, the ocean splashing against the shore a mile behind me. My jaw drops—this city simply amazes me.
“Wow,” Adela breathes as people chat on their cell phones as they pass us, luxuries we in Kaito can never afford.
“Welcome to Koto,” Kira announces, “the City of Lights!” She squeals and bounces up and down, hyper.
A chuckle erupts from my mouth. “Kira, you’re embarrassing yourself in front of about 150 people.”
“Obviously,” she drones, nose scrunched, “you’ve never seen a tourist—this isn’t Kaito! This is too big of a city for there to be just one culture!”
I roll my eyes and head toward the glistening buildings. Over people’s heads, the tall buildings in the background change color and switch moods so temperamentally it’s beautiful. From red to orange to white to yellow to green. I stretch my legs a bit as I walk, slowing my gait.
“Gabe!” Kira calls among the chatter.
“Whaaaaat?” I whine, walking a bit faster. I wanna see what the cityscape looks like from up there!
“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?” She giggle-squeaks behind me. “Remember we’re going to see Carmen?”
Oh yeah. “Fine, you lead!”
Kira and Adela rocket past me into the crowd, dodging a few people at a time. Holy hell. “You’re gonna kill someone doing that!” They’re doing what we used to when we were little. I rocket after them with a laugh, the air blowing my hair back! This is called free running, an exercise used to strengthen your feet and upgrade your agility—and it’s fun! Kira even jumps and flips over a little girl, who recoils, landing gracefully and looking back at me as she zooms past people, using that keen Bleeder’s Siren like a bat in pitch black. She hasn’t done this in years.
We exit the crowd, and now it’s a race to the finish line, which, I notice, wasn’t defined. I grin widely, before I see Kira’s eyes glisten, still watching Adela and I, approaching a wall at eight miles per hour and closing fast. Oh boy. “Kira, ahead!” She looks inches before impact, causing me to stop and flinch!
“Whoa!” I open an eye, and Adela’s at the wall, panting and looking up. Kira’s sitting on the six-foot-tall thing! I walk up and chuckle.
“Hiya!” she gleams.
“Looks like you haven’t lost your touch,” I call up at her. The roar of the crowd is calmer—maybe they know we’re here now.
She hops down, and we start walking.
“So, we need to talk about how we’re going about getting to Vermillion,” I say. “I meant to earlier, but I fell asleep. Sorry about that.”
I look to Adela, who shrugs. “We’ll talk about it when we get to Carmen’s. So, Carmen is a pretty nice person. She’s a fourth-generation Pusher and a Shader, generation unknown, but for someone as practiced as she is, we still have to be sure. We’ll have to determine the longest distance away from her we can be without her Shadow wearing off.”
“Sounds good,” I reply.
“We’ll also need to pay her, most likely, since she doesn’t know you guys.”
“Oh, joy,” Kira drones. “How much does she charge?”
“I don’t really know. What did you want me to do, call her when we were on the train?”
“That’d have been nice,” I snicker.
“Oh, like I can afford a cell phone.”
Kira giggles.
I take the backpack off set it down. “Anyone hungry?”
“Oh, my God, I’m starving!” Kira bellows.
“What do you guys want?” I set the backpack down and zip it open, starting to rifle through it. Surprisingly, none of the snacks are damaged.
“Uh…surprise me?” Kira closes an eye and rattles her middle finger in her ear.
I blink at her, looking up. “That’s nasty.”
“It’s my ear, I’ll do what I want with it,” she giggles, before she drops her jaw.
I shrug and continue digging, pulling out a small, almost-cylindrical cake. It’s not Renaldi’s, but it’s a snack. I offer it to Adela. She grimaces at it.
“What?” I stare at her. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s… vanilla.”
“Your point?”
“I’m allergic.”
My spine relaxes, and I look aside, eyebrows lowering. “Of course you are.” I throw it to Kira, who opens it at the double and stuffs half of it in her mouth, biting into the soft pastry with a sigh through her nose. I sniffle and bring out another Gremlin, tearing off the plastic cover. I turn the cap and the top pops, the center of it bulging a bit, before it’s removed. A misty smoke comes out the outlet, and I put it to my lips, the crisp, cold taste of orange and mimosa exploding on my tongue. I close my eyes and take a few measured gulps, the scent filling my head starting in my nose.
I recap the drink and put it back in my backpack. “Adela, did you want anything? Anything at all?”
She shakes her head as I stand and put it on. “I just want to get to Carmen’s,” she sighs. “The sooner the better.”
I’d forgotten Division was trailing us. I nod and zip the backpack closed.

We head south down this street, and I find myself trying to find a street sign or a banner or something that would tell me exactly where I am. I look across the street in between the heavy traffic where, on the adjacent building over the entrance archways are the numbers 31314. Which doesn’t help. “So where exactly are we?” I sigh.
“Uhh…” Adela takes off her backpack and takes out a huge, red book labeled the Just Monocratic Commonwealth of Consigahria and the Vermillion Plantations: a visitor’s guide. Long enough title. “Let’s see.” She opens to the table of contents. I look to Kira, who is admiring the skyscrapers in the distance. “Koto & Aurumque, pages 114 through 230.” She turns to the first page and studies it for a bit. “Uh…”
“You mean to tell me you don’t know where we are?”
“I do. Kind of.” She looks up at me. “I just need to get my bearings since I haven’t been here in forever.” She looks back down and cradles the book in one arm, finger reading. “We’re on… Northwest Sandoval Boulevard. When I was six I wrote Carmen’s address on one of these pages—aha!” The page makes a crinkling sound as she shoves her finger to the paper. “Found it! Straight ahead a few miles, then we take a right onto Northwest Featherhollow Drive.” She closes the book.
I grimace at her as she puts it away. “And how long did you say was the trip to her house from here?”
“I didn’t.” She grimaces back, then exchanges looks with Kira, who giggles and could walk a hundred miles with little to no effort. “Five miles.”
“Let’s hail a cab.”
“Gabe, no!” Kira half-shouts, deafening me. I stare at her. “Things cost twice as much in the city and we need all our money. And for all we know, Division could have followed us—they have Watchers too, you know. And Sniffers.” Her tone breaks in worry—“And Bleeders.”
“You’re saying trust nobody.”
“Absolutely nobody.” Her nostrils flare. “Not everyone is as friendly as they are in Kaito. There are people here who will try to attack you if they find out you’re psychic. In this city it’s safer than in Kaito because there are more people, but sometimes that’s exactly what kills you.”
I look down… “Kira,” I say, voice low and serious. I’m in control. “I don’t want to think about death right now.” I walk forward down the municipal concrete and remember Miranda’s shoes clacking against the linoleum in Division Headquarters as she and Goddard escorted me to my death. “Although…” Death… “Adela?”
Adela looks at me, stifling a yawn that causes her to make a sour face like she’d been sucking on a lemon. “What?”
“When you and Kira rescued me from Division Headquarters…” I hear her sigh as Kira’s aura recedes. What memories they’re hiding of that place and how many there are of them are anyone’s guess. “…When they shot me…” I continue. “Did I actually die?”
Adela doesn’t answer for a few seconds. “Yes.”
“How did you do it?” I drone, my monotone betraying my burning curiosity.
“Nursing back to health is my specialty, Gabe,” she replies. “Resuscitation is something el—” She hesitates. That would have been a lie. “It’s an entirely different ballpark. I'm not good enough for that yet.”
After a few seconds, Kira catches where she, consumed in herself, hadn’t answered my question and interjects. “Having confused guards left and right—and you have no idea how fast my eyes had to travel and how fast my brain had to work, honestly I was exhausted—I went into the room. I knew my way around, having been in the building, especially that zone, so I went to the execution chamber. I figured they make up some story about you wanting to overthrow them, which is a death sentence written off as a PMC.”
I get chills and feel goosebumps form over my skin, and my stomach churns, a vat of acid. Jesus… “What exactly is a PMC?”
“That acronym describes an instance of plausible brain death, a side effect of silencium that makes someone give a dead impression if they don’t take solvendium.” I look down at the cement. Ouch. “A person will turn pale, will hardly have a heartbeat if any, will not respond to stimuli of any kind, have relaxed pupils, et cetera. If solvendium is injected immediately, the slow-beating heart may be revived, and the person may come back to life. If not, the person will die either from cardiac arrest or suffocation, whichever comes first.” I stay silent, tears forming. “They have to be careful when administrating, because to revive it, you have to use a lot of the stuff, and it causes seizures. But, yeah,” she continues. “I found your body half-dangling from a harness. Dead from gunshots. You looked like Sato, if the stab wounds were bullet wounds. So I just took you to an old friend.”
My soul eyes her insensitivity, but my physical body doesn’t move much, letting a tear fall, pushed over the cliff into another crater of depression. I hear it hit the cement with a light plop. I sniffle, prompting her to shut up. Her aura recedes a little more, conceding that maybe that was the wrong thing to say.
“Sorry…” she whispers. I feel my nostrils flare, my breathing becoming erratic…she never says sorry.