EMBER
The door chime echoes in my room, but I don’t get up to answer it. I’m already hunkered down in the corner of my room, a copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen in hand.
“Go away,” I holler, but the door chimes again. Probably Ethan coming to drag me to the party. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to celebrate.
What I want is someone to talk to. But that’s impossible here.
I want to tell someone about the Trial, about my guilt and the terrible thing I did. But I can’t.
Because he’s listening. He’s always listening.
I’m not sure I even realized it until now.
Ever since the Trial, I’ve wanted so badly to tell Ethan about what happened in the cafeteria. I want to get his opinion and have him tell me everything is going to be all right, but I don’t dare. Somehow, my alternate self managed to get in and out without Tesla becoming aware. It’s why the computer was frizzing out. Her visit—her warning—was a blind spot in Tesla’s all-knowing vision. I don’t dare reveal the truth now, when I have no idea of the damage it could cause. If only I knew, if only I understood my intentions. Crossing my own timeline is such a risk. And for what? I don’t know. I might not know for a very long time.
The chime goes off again, so I climb to my feet and hit the keypad.
The door slides open and Kara is standing in the hall. Her hair is in a twist on the back of her head and she’s wearing one of her prettiest outfits—a simple, green velvet mini-dress and tall, black boots. I sigh.
“I’m not going,” I say before she can get a word out.
She steps inside and the door slides closed behind her. “Of course you are. It’s mandatory.”
The Time Travelers’ Ball is an annual tradition in the Institute. It’s where all who didn’t die in the Trials get to celebrate the fact that they’re still alive and swap stories about their missions. I don’t feel like sharing. Or celebrating. Or putting on shoes. I shake my head and slump back into my corner. “I don’t care.”
Sitting on the side of my bed, she narrows her eyes at me. “You’ve been acting weird, Ember. First, the thing at the cafeteria, now this. It isn’t like you. What happened?”
I shrug and toss the book on my desk.
She grabs one of my pillows and clutches it to her chest. “Remember that time I snuck out with Crevin, and then rushed here to tell you all about it?”
“Second Base Crevin?” I laugh. “Yeah. I remember.”
She hesitates before she speaks. “I made it up.”
“What?” I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d sprouted a third arm.
“It was just, you were new and shy and I really wanted, I dunno, someone I could talk to. A girlfriend. So I made it up as an excuse to spend time with you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “So Crevin never got to second base?”
She grins. “Well, yeah, he did, but it was before you came along. So it was a true story, really, just told a little after the fact.”
I start laughing and she joins in. It’s so silly and yet I can’t stop. I’m doubling over, tears rolling down my face before I finally catch my breath.
“It’s just…” She shrugs. “It was really lonely here before you came. I mean, I had Ethan, but it’s not the same. And then you showed up and you were nice. I knew I wanted to have you on Team Kara.”
I study her face. “Aw, Kara, that’s the nicest thing anyone here has ever done for me. Probably the stupidest thing, to be honest, but nice all the same.” The corner of her mouth curves up into a hint of a smile. I push myself up a bit and smile back. “And, for the record, I’m Team Kara. Absolutely. All the way.” I crawl forward and rest my head in her lap, letting her stroke my hair.
“I know. Team Kara is the best.” She pats me on the head and points to the closet. “Now, what are you going to wear tonight?”
I groan, but she gently pushes me away and stands up, motioning for me to follow her.
“No offense, Ember, but you look like crap. Go wash up. I’ll pick something out for you.”
“I really don’t feel up to going,” I whine even as I head for the bathroom.
She peeks out of the closet. “That’s exactly why you should. Dressing up and looking nice always makes me feel better. Besides,” she ducks back in the closet, “Riley is going to be there. I think he’s into you. Why else would he hang out at the library all the time?”
I groan again. He’s so not my type. Not that I have a type, exactly. I think about it as I wash my face.
“Maybe he just really likes to read?” I offer.
She snorts. “Yeah, right.”
What would I want in a guy? I suppose I’ve never really thought about it. But now that I am, only one face comes to mind.
“Best. Party. Ever.” Ethan laughs, helping himself to another slice of cake. Okay, it’s a gluten-free, reduced sugar, organic, soy-based cake. Still, it’s pretty good for being little more than a fiber bomb.
Flynn raises a glass of pineapple juice. “Here’s to our newest Rifters!”
Cheers fill the room. I sit in the corner, pushing bits of almost-cake around my plate. I should be relieved and excited like the others, but there’s a nagging feeling in my gut I just can’t shake. Kara kept her word, dressing me up like her own personal Barbie. I’m trying to keep my legs crossed in the short lacy dress, but it’s hard because it’s so tight. Still, when I saw myself in the mirror, I had to admit I looked really good. Older. Hot, even. I do feel better, or at least I did until I walked into the party and everyone stared at me. Now I’m just feeling uncomfortable.
“What’s up, Grumpy Butt?” Ethan asks, nudging me so hard I nearly drop my almost-cake.
I sigh, set the plate on the floor by my feet, and readjust myself in the hard wooden chair. “Nothing. I’m just tired, I guess.”
I rest my elbows on my knees and hold my chin in my hands. Kara is flirting with a group of boys in the corner. Some of the other kids are huddled near the punch bowl, Riley among them. Mistress Catherine and the others are chatting. No one is paying any attention to us.
I glance back at Ethan. He’s waiting patiently for an answer, but with each second that passes in silence, his expression grows more worried.
“No more classes,” I say softly, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice. “No more tests. No more being kids. It’s time to grow up.”
“You’ve always been a grown-up,” he says, nudging me again.
“Not always. Not yet.” I let the words hang between us before continuing. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about the future a lot lately. About what kind of person I’m going to become.”
“Well, that’s a depressing thing to be thinking about at a party. For example, right now I’m thinking, I wonder if there’s any way to sneak out of here tonight for a swim.”
I feel my eyes light up. That would be perfect. But as quickly at the thought comes, it’s crushed. “We still have the Pledge Ceremony.”
“So we go after, just you and me.”
I want to. I really, really do. But it feels like a bad idea. I shake my head.
“Ember, I’m really worried about you. You’ve been a little off the past few days.”
What can I say? The truth makes me sound like a paranoid lunatic. Even though I’m not looking at him, I can feel his eyes on me. Something in the bottom of my stomach tightens. For a second, I imagine us somewhere else—two normal people, at a party. Maybe we dance and he grabs me by the waist, pulling me close. Eye to eye, he lowers his head, bringing his lips to mine.
The thought shatters inside my head like glass. What’s wrong with me? This is Ethan. I mean, Ethan. Even so, a warm flush spreads through my whole body. He’s still looking at me, and I can barely stand it. I’m about two seconds away from a full-on meltdown. “I’ve also been thinking about Caesar.”
“That’s a weird thing to be thinking about. Even for a bookworm like you.”
I shake my head. “I mean bridges. Remember the story of Caesar crossing the Rubicon?”
He stares at me blankly.
“I mean, sometimes, you cross a bridge that’s so important, you can never go back, you know? Like when he crossed the Rubicon, and then burned it down behind him. No turning back.” His brow furrows like he’s trying to follow me but can’t quite make it. I sigh. “Forget it.”
He smirks and touches the side of my face. “Are you asking me to commit arson with you?”
“No.”
“Why not? It could be fun.” He pauses. “The swimming, that is, not the arson. But if you’d rather…”
I roll my eyes and answer with all the sarcasm I can muster. “Because I don’t trust myself alone with you. You, and your awesome brain and your great, big biceps.”
I laugh as he pouts and flexes. “But my biceps are awesome, too.”
I want to give him a playful nudge or a pat on the back, just some kind, any kind, of physical contact. But there’s this little voice in my head telling me I shouldn’t. So I just shift in my seat. “Never mind. It’s just, I’m kind of looking for quiet. I need to think and clear my head.”
“I can be quiet,” he says, and I almost laugh out loud.
Raising an eyebrow, I tilt my head at him.
“Well, I can be quiet-ish. Okay, I’m lying. I suck at quiet. It’s my one shortcoming.”
I raise my eyebrow again and he throws his hands in the air.
“Fine, woman. If you really want to be alone, I’ll leave you be.”
He moves to leave and I grab his arm so fast he almost falls over. I’m clinging to him, and though I don’t know why, I’m pretty sure I’m going to burst into tears any second.
“Can’t bear to see me go, I see.” He pauses and looks at me seriously. “Ember, I don’t know what’s gotten under your skin today, but you can’t let it eat at you. We can’t afford to worry about what might happen in the future. We have our hands full with dealing with the past. Let yourself live in the moment, okay? Let go of the rest.”
I sigh, wishing it were that easy. “If we don’t worry about the future, who will?”
Holding his hands in the air, he wiggles his fingers. “Here. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll look into my crystal ball.”
“I don’t see a crystal ball.”
“Shhh! It’s invisible. Yes, here. I see your future and you will be…” He sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth then stands up. “You’ll be who you are, who you always were. You’ll be Ember.”
He grins and I can’t help smiling back, even if it’s not an entirely happy smile. “And you’ll be Ethan.” And things will always be just as they are right now, I add silently. In my mind, I can see the bridge between us. Do I dare cross it? Ethan is a flirt by nature. What if he doesn’t even feel the same? Can I take that risk?
He holds out his hand to me and I take it, letting him tug me to my feet. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head and mutters, “Always.”
The words are enough to blow past my doubt. If there is a bridge separating us, I’m about to burn it to ash. I wrap my arms around his waist and whisper in his ear, “I need to get out of here. Now.”
The emotions of the day have come rushing back at me like a tidal wave. My hands shake as he leads me through the crowd, out the door, and down the hall. Behind us, the music fades away. He presses his palm against the next door we come to and it slides open.
It only takes a second for the lights to sputter to life, but in that instant I forget how to breathe.
“What do you know, we do have a library,” Ethan muses, his back to me.
The door grinds shut behind me and my knees turn to jelly. Somehow Ethan has his arms around me, helping steady me before I hit the floor. Still, we’re a little off-balance, so we fall and stumble back against the door.
“Whoa, Ember. What’s wrong?”
I can’t answer. My throat is swollen closed, or at least that’s how it feels. Around me the room spins. My chest tightens until I’m sure it will crush me. I grab the back of his neck in both hands and pull his face down so our foreheads are touching. Tears roll down my face. Ethan’s blue eyes find mine and lock on.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” Taking my hands, he slides them down just an inch so I can feel the strong rhythm of his pulse under my fingers. “Close your eyes. Focus on my heartbeat, only that and nothing else.” He closes the space between us and presses himself against me until I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. “Breathe with me.”
I nod and obey. Closing my eyes, I focus on the steady, reliable pattern of his heart beating under my hands. The tightness in my chest starts to relax. When I can breathe again, all I can smell is Ethan. Spicy and warm. Eventually my pulse matches time with his. I take a deep breath, aware of him in a way I’ve never been before. Opening my eyes, I find he’s still staring at me, only now his eyes aren’t so wide and nervous. He is looking at me from beneath his thick blond lashes, and his pupils are so big I think I can see stars in them. His hands are pressed against the door on either side of my waist.
He grins and I can tell he’s about to say something. Knowing Ethan, it will be some ridiculous quip that will make me rethink this. Before he can get a word out, I stretch up and press my lips against his.
He freezes, his heart stuttering under my fingertips. I pull back, sure I’ve done something wrong—crossed that invisible line. I’ve never kissed a boy before, not like this. A rush of heat floods to my cheeks, making me almost unbearably hot under his unreadable expression. I open my mouth to apologize.
“I—” He cuts me off by taking my face in his hands and kissing me. I run my fingers through his hair as he moans into my mouth. Everywhere we are touching, my skin burns until I’m sure I’m going to burst into flames. Moving his hands around my waist, he pulls me from the door and lifts me off the ground, carrying me over to an empty study table. He breaks the kiss just long enough to gently set me on it.
“I told you that you couldn’t resist me,” he jokes, his voice deep and rough.
I sigh. “Well, everyone should get to be right once in their life.”
Leaning into me, he touches the tips of his fingers to my bottom lip.
“We belong together. You know that, right?” he says, barely louder than a whisper.
I kiss his fingertips. “Yes,” I say breathlessly.
He kisses me again, but this time, the burning urgency is cooled into a slow, almost painful deliberateness. With one arm behind me, supporting us, I let the other wander up his back. He shudders and I smile under his lips. My heart is pounding so hard I wonder how I don’t die from the pressure building inside my chest.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Kara’s voice calls from the doorway, making me jump. “But it’s almost time.”
Ethan sighs deeply, not looking at her. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”
Over his shoulder I see Kara. She winks, turns, and struts out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. Ethan presses his forehead against mine, his eyes squeezed closed. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my racing heart. I nudge him with my nose and he opens his eyes, grinning at me. Not his usual cocky smile, but a smile of satisfaction, almost relief. I understand the feeling. Some part of me has wanted to kiss him since the first day we met.
I kiss him quickly and push him away. He steps back and offers me a hand off the desk. I slide off and straighten my dress, feeling silly and embarrassed but unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face. Only Ethan would cure a panic attack by causing a heart attack.
In the back of my mind, a little voice reminds me that we aren’t alone in the library. Tesla, or whatever circuits and gears now make up Tesla, is watching. Listening. Not even that kiss had been ours alone—not really.
The thought wipes the grin off my face as we walk hand in hand back to the ballroom.
Flynn stands in the center of the room, his glass high in the air. “It’s time. If the new Rifters would please join me in the main lab?”
I swallow hard. In all the excitement, I’d almost forgotten about this step, this final initiation. Goosebumps erupt along my arms. Kara moves to Ethan’s other side and takes his empty hand. She looks radiant in the glow of success, not a hint of fear or hesitation on her face.
“Relax, Ember. It’s like getting a tattoo.”
I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at her. As if she has any idea.
Ethan chimes in. “Yeah, Ember. Just like a tattoo. Only instead of ink, it’s acid. And instead of a cute unicorn skipping across a rainbow, it’s Tesla’s personal seal of approval. How bad could it possibly be?”
I frown. Just what I need. One more scar. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Don’t be such a whiner, Ember. Suck it up. Everyone does it. It’s just a symbol, a reminder of our oath to Tesla,” Kara says, tugging Ethan and me forward.
Her tone is joking, but there’s an underlying tension too. Deep down, I bet she’s just as nervous as I am.
We drop hands to follow the crowd to Tesla’s main lab. It’s one of the largest rooms in the facility, which is saying something. About the size of a six-car garage, it holds ten workstations—long tables covered in equipment. As we walk past, I absently reach out, running my fingers over bits of metal. Bad idea. A sharp bit slices into my finger and blood rises quickly, pooling on the surface of my skin. I swear and bring the wound to my mouth, sucking on it gently before wrapping it in the hem of my dress. Ethan glances over at me but I shrug. I’ll live.
I have to hand it to Tesla—lots of scientists in history have been obsessed with immortality, but he’s the only one who’s managed it. At least, so far. I can’t help wondering if in some dark future there are millions of them, people whose lives have been reduced to brains in jars. As we pass a table of empty holding tanks, I can’t help but cringe.
I’d never want to live that way.
I hate this room. It’s the same place Tesla chewed me out after my botched mission to the World’s Fair, and even with all the extra people in here now, it’s still creepy. My eyes are drawn to Tesla’s brain floating in the wall. His tank is designed so that, in the event of a breach of the facility, Tesla can be removed and taken to safety. I wonder for a moment whose job that is, removing that tank. Then I blink, bringing myself back to the reason I’m even standing in this room, and the goosebumps reappear. Beside me, Ethan wraps his fingers in mine. Kara shoots me a glance that isn’t nearly as cocky anymore. I can’t blame her. This whole place is creepy.
Flynn hits a switch on the wall and holographic Tesla sparks to life. On the ground is a small vent that blows steam upward, giving the hologram a sort of screen to be projected on. The image of Tesla smiles and holds his hands out toward us. He looks so freaking weird like this. Sure, the brain in the jar is pretty bad, but this is worse somehow. His black hair is parted in the middle and slicked down on either side of his head. His features are sharp, his nose is long, and a disturbingly thin mustache rides his upper lip.
It’s the smile that’s bothering me, I realize. It somehow doesn’t fit his face—it’s too small and too forced to belong there. He speaks and his voice crackles through speakers in the walls.
“My friends, I am so pleased to welcome you here. You have worked hard and passed all your Trials. Now you stand with the others of your kind, and you will take your place among them.” His smile falls away and, with a wave of his hand, Nurse appears from the corner of the room. It’s holding a brass tray full of metal syringes. Flynn holds up the first and moves to stand in front of the first Rifter, who holds out his left arm and recites the oath. As soon as the words are spoken, Flynn stabs the large needle into his forearm and presses the plunger. The boy doesn’t make a sound, but I can see from the immediate sheen of sweat on his face that it isn’t pleasant. As soon as Flynn withdraws the needle, the boy shudders and, holding his arm, walks to stand beside the other Rifters. I stare at him, watching fat tears roll down his cheeks.
The urge to move, to run, is nearly overwhelming. I don’t want to do this, I realize. Not that I don’t want to be a Rifter—I do—but this all seems too much, too barbaric. Like Tesla is claiming us as his property, branding us like cattle. It’s all I can do to hold still and keep my face impassive. Only Ethan’s hand in mine keeps me grounded. Keeps me sane.
The process is repeated until Flynn reaches me. I’m the first of my friends to take the oath. I practically have to pry myself away from Ethan, I’m squeezing his hand so tightly. I step forward, swallowing hard as I hold out my arm, palm up. At first I’m afraid I won’t remember the words, but they tumble out seemingly of their own accord.
“I hereby swear loyalty to Tesla and this Institute,” I say, my legs shaking like violent little earthquakes are rippling through the muscles. “I promise to defend the time stream, this place, and Tesla himself to the last breath in my body.” I take another step. “I will not falter or hesitate. Willingly do I give my life to this service.” I step forward again, sure that my knees will buckle and I’ll fall on my face. But I don’t. “Freely do I give my word before these witnesses. This is my binding oath.” I’m right in front of Flynn now and I’m shaking all over. It’s not the expectation of pain that’s bothering me so much. It’s the idea of Tesla’s mark on me, inside my skin. I try not to gag. That’s the idea. This chemical burn will remind us of our loyalty, the cost of failure, and more importantly, that Tesla is always with us.
The prick of the needle isn’t what hurts. But the liquid inside burns like acid, as Ethan predicted it would. My eyes water as it sears through the veins in my arm and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. I expect it to continue to spread into my shoulder but it doesn’t. It’s contained in the white skin of my forearm. Seconds feel like hours as I fight to breathe through the pain. Soon, the burning sensation begins to swirl and my flesh mounds as if a small creature was burrowing beneath it. It’s not a scar, exactly. Neither is it a tattoo. Only a few shades darker than my skin, but raised, it’s an inside-out brand. The pain fades and all that’s left is a perfect sun emblem. The symbol of enlightenment—the symbol of Tesla.
I look up, and Flynn is smiling broadly.
I vomit on his shoes.