Powers Legacy Sample Chapters

Paige

The grandeur of the evening seems too ridiculous for words. Does King Cypress truly think that holding a party and dancing with a few of the girls will erase what he and his men have done? And I am expected to put on a smile and charm the local lords. Lord Greene was charming, and more tolerable than most of the rest, but something about the way he looked at me leaves me feeling dirty.

Thanks to Nora’s gracious offer to help me, I avoid several near disastrous blunders with those lords—and a few of the ladies.

All evening, I try catching King Cypress’ eye. We haven’t spoken since that horribly awkward kiss, and I feel like I need to explain myself. But as the minutes fade into hours, he never glances in my direction. Maybe I offended him when I rejected his advances.

When he at last approaches, I follow Nora’s lead and produce the best curtsy I can manage in this tight dress. He holds his hand out to Nora and asks if he can steal her away. I get little more than a cursory glance, as if he only just realized I’m there and I’m completely inconsequential. It hurts.

I definitely offended him.

I cling to my wine glass, trying to tell myself it doesn’t matter that he has whisked away Nora instead of me. It isn’t as if I truly want any of this. She does.

Yet every day that passes makes it harder to imagine I can ever get home. Especially if he ignores me.

I don’t belong here. I miss home. I miss Gavin and Mom and Dad. But until the King allows me to leave, I’m trapped. I’m not even certain I can get dismissed any longer. King Cypress knows I removed my bracelet on multiple occasions, an act that should have had me out the door, but he ignored every infraction. Now I can’t even get close to him. How can I convince him to let me go if all I do is offend him?

I grimace, downing my glass of wine.

“Lady Paige.”

I spin. The skirt of my dress flies outward as if it could fly away. I wish it could whisk me away.

A commanding air surrounds Lord Baron. Something about him reminds me of Dad at social gatherings. Relaxed, but observing everything. Not for the first time, I notice how much Zephyr resembles him. Zephyr has his mother’s eyes, but if he looks like Baron, does that mean the former king did as well? They were brothers, after all. Cypress and Dominic look a lot alike.

“Lord Baron.” I curtsy. My gut churns. Last time I spoke to him, he threatened me and was full of rage.

“No need of that with me.” His gaze flits to the bracelet momentarily before meeting my eyes. “I hope that bracelet is working better for you. King Cypress was quite worried about your wellbeing after the incident.”

I fiddle absently with the thick bracelet. Telling him I hate it and would rather crush it into a fine powder probably won’t help my cause at all. Instead, I flash the best impression of a timid smile I can muster. “Yes. Thank you.”

“My nephew mentioned you introduced yourself to him as a princess.”

Nephew. My gaze falls on Zephyr as he crosses the room. I straighten, but even he doesn’t pay any attention to me. He joins Holly. Does this dress have no effect on the brothers?

“Did he? I was mostly teasing him after he introduced himself as a lord.” I flush, remembering that exchange. Knowing a little more about where Zephyr comes from, I suppose I understand why he called himself Lord Zephyr.

“I have spoken with your friend,” Lord Baron says. “Easton.”

My heart skips. No one ever talks to me about Easton. I worry about his wellbeing. Was Lord Baron part of Easton’s questioning? What does Lord Baron already know about us? “Is he doing well?”

“Exceptionally well, actually. The lieutenants are impressed with his skills.” Lord Baron waves it off as if it doesn’t matter.

But it does for me. It means everything. Having Easton on the island—even if I never see him—offers some comfort. I’m not completely alone. Perhaps, if the lieutenants are singing his praises, he will be allowed to visit soon. I don’t dare ask.

Lord Baron leans close. “He told me your father rules over your people. Like a king?”

His proximity doesn’t make me uncomfortable, like some of the other lords here. I remember the maids mentioning that he had never married. Hopefully he isn’t reconsidering. He’s the same age as my father.

I grab a fresh glass of wine off a passing tray and take a sip. It does little for my parched throat. “We don’t have kings. He is the Minister. Sort of like a governor or…well, a leader. Not a ruler.”

“So, you are not a princess.”

I laugh, hoping it sounds more lilting and less tense than it feels. “No.”

The corners of his mouth curl down as if the news disappoints him. “A shame. That might have been in your favor with King Cypress. I would love to hear more about your community if you will share.”

My heart picks up speed. Though his request sounds innocent enough, I know he is digging for information. I don’t know what Easton told them and don’t want to contradict anything. Nor do I want to give away too much.

“I’m not sure there is much of merit to say,” I respond, averting my gaze to play timid. “We had a rough go of it for a while, but my father has made great strides in improving our lives since he took over. Our people adore him.”

Lord Baron ponders this for a moment, then offers a gentlemanly smile. “That is good for our people, then. He must be a remarkable man. Easton spoke highly of him as well.”

The last statement isn’t meant as a threat—at least I don’t think it is—but it stills my hammering heart. I have to change the subject. Quickly.

I glance over at King Cypress and Nora. They seem very familiar with one another. “May I ask a question?”

“You may, but I may not answer.”

I nod. “Fair enough.” I won’t bare all my secrets. Why should he? “Have I offended the King? He hasn’t even glanced my way all evening.”

Lord Baron chuckles, swirling his drink in his hand. “King Cypress is not an easy man to offend. He has a lot of potential ladies here tonight. I wouldn’t read into it too much.”

A hushed commotion nearby draws his attention away. Every muscle in his body tenses. For just a moment, his entire body goes still. Swiftly, he excuses himself. I watch him hustle toward the small circle of activity. Lady Emry rests in a chair, her face horribly pale. Another woman stands over her, fanning her face.

Zephyr kneels in front of his mother, holding her hands in his as he speaks. Lord Baron lingers behind Zephyr like he wants to take over, but doesn’t want to overstep. I edge close enough to hear clipped parts of the conversation over the music and din of the event.

“…me take her back,” Zephyr says.

Lord Baron slides his arm around Lady Emry and helps her to her feet. “I can handle this. You…”

They wave their hands at one another. But at a gentle touch from Lady Emry, they both settle. Zephyr hangs his head, stepping back as Lord Baron escorts her out.

I can’t stop staring at the abject disappointment creasing Zephyr’s face. He takes a step, as if he has changed his mind and intends to follow them. Then he freezes.

One of the older women beside him places her hand on his arm and murmurs something to him. Zephyr yanks his arm away and turns, catching me staring.

I snap my gaze away, but it’s too late. He noticed. I don’t have to peek to be aware of his long, heavy strides as he approaches.

“Lady Paige.” He stops in front of me.

“Lord Zephyr. Is she okay?” I peer past him as if I can still see Lady Emry, but she is long out of sight now.

He reaches for a tray of drinks as it passes, but the server turns in another direction. His jaw twitches. I swear I can hear him clenching it. Why are they refusing him a drink? He is part of the royal family. “No, but it’s none of your concern.”

Silence settles between us. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else than standing with me. Why did he approach if he doesn’t want to talk?

I follow his gaze around the room. He is staring with glassy eyes at the drink trays floating around.

“Maybe you need this more than I do,” I say, holding out my wine glass.

His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as he stares at the glass. His hand twitches at his side, but he doesn’t reach for it.

“I won’t tell,” I whisper conspiratorially, guessing that they ordered him not to drink.

Zephyr accepts the glass with a murmur of thanks. His hand brushes against mine, sending a surge of warmth through my fingers.

He takes a drink. A very generous drink.

“What’s wrong with your mother?”

Zephyr scowls at me, then downs the rest of the wine in a single gulp. “Dance?” he asks, setting the glass on a nearby table.

“Is it allowed?”

“The king has given me special dispensation to be your escort tonight.” Nothing about his tone shows he has any interest in this honor. He holds out a hand. “Yes or no.”

I take his sweating hand. “Charming.”

Zephyr sweeps me out onto the dance floor, not saying another word. We move together in silence. Each step is sharp, practiced. The distance he maintains between us is like a wall. There is nothing smooth or gallant about him. This dance is an obligation and nothing more.

I briefly consider asking him if I upset his brother, but quickly dismiss the notion. The idea of explaining the kiss, or even admitting it, to Zephyr sends my insides into a tailspin.

I edge closer to him, shifting his hand on the small of my back a little tighter. His fingers press into the thin fabric. The other hand sweats in mine.

“My people know a lot about illness,” I say softly, afraid of breaching the subject of his mother, but knowing I might have something to deal. “Maybe I can offer some advice about your mother?”

He makes a sound of disgruntlement in his throat. “If the physician can’t help her, why should I believe you can?”

I tilt my head, forcing him to look at me. His gaze is angry, but more than that, there is pain hiding underneath. I put forward my gentlest smile. “She is your world. I can tell. Would you discount me if there was even a slight chance I could help?”

The muscles of his back tense beneath my hand. War wages behind those dark eyes. Finally, his jaw twitches and he says, “She spent years looking after my father, healing him whenever he was ailing. Now…” His voice cracks, the first sign of a chink in his armor. He stiffens and draws in a breath to center himself.

“Now her Power is causing her illness,” I finish, understanding perfectly what she is going through. “We have the same problem where I come from. It doesn’t happen to everyone, but those who end up with Power-related illnesses used to die prematurely.”

His dark eyes snap into sharp focus. “Used to?” Hope springs to life. He edges urgently closer. “But they no longer do?”

“It depends on individual situations.” I carefully hedge around the truth. If his mother is so far advanced, it may already be too late. But this is also my chance to gain his ear and his trust. I must proceed with caution. “When my father was my age, my grandfather died of a Power-related illness. Not long after, Dad learned that one of his friends had it as well. He dedicated all of his time to trying to find a cure for several years. It isn’t perfect, but it usually works to slow the illness. Jayme, his friend, should have died before I was born. But he still lives.”

His breaths roll across my face in quick succession. His words rush out. “Do you know how it works? How to fix it?”

“I don’t. But some of my people do. If we could get her to my people—”

“She would never survive the trip.” Zephyr sags. All the hope has drained out of him. The intensity that burned in his eyes a moment ago winks out. “Her illness is advanced.”

I chew my lip, hating the devastation on his face. His hands tremble against me.

“Zephyr…” What am I doing? This is too risky. I could put Elpis in danger. But the heartache he is trying—and failing—to cover makes my heart reach out for him. I release a shaky breath and lean closer to his ear, lowering my voice. “In my pack, there is a radio I can use to contact my father. I just need to be within five hundred miles of my community. In days, he would be here with people who can help. He knows what it’s like to lose a parent like this.”

As we continue dancing, he doesn’t say anything. I’ve just told him how to get in contact with Elpis. What can his people do with that information?

“What you offer is impossible, Paige,” he murmurs in my ear. “The shorelines are frozen. We can’t go anywhere until the thaw. For the next few months, we are stuck on this island.”

The news sends a bolt of disappointment and alarm through me. I jerk back, eyes wide, hoping to see some deception on his face. But the earnestness that greets me stills my breath.

He means it. No matter what happens with King Cypress and this entire dumb pageant, I am stuck on the island until spring.

“How long?” I loathe how my voice quivers.

“Three months. Maybe four, depending on the weather.”

Grief grips my stomach in an iron grasp. Tears spring to life in my eyes. No, it can’t be. Four more months? Mom and Dad will think I’m dead!

Icy dread pulses through me. Suddenly, I can’t stop shivering. Nausea threatens to upend everything I’ve eaten tonight. I need out of here. I need to leave this room. This palace. This island. I drag in ragged breaths, unable to satiate my need for air. The room tilts. The walls and press of bodies close in around me.

“Paige?” I can hear the concern in Zephyr’s voice, but all I can see is the distorted stretch of the dance floor toward the exit.

I pull away from his powerful grip and stagger a few steps toward the door. “I need air.”

As heavy weight presses down on my shoulders, I make furtive movements towards the exit, cursing my heels. Just when I think I can’t handle it any longer, when I can’t take another step, an arm slides around my waist, holding me upright and helping me along.

I allow Zephyr to guide me outside. He helps me settle into an empty chair along the promenade, away from prying eyes. Then he slips out of his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders, tugging it closed in front of me. It’s warm and smells of the lake. Just like he does.

“Slow, deep breath in,” he says softly. “Then out.”

For two minutes, he coaches me through the breathing exercise, crouching in front of me. I can’t stop trembling. I’m uncertain if it’s the cold or harsh reality. And I can’t hold back the tears. A few roll down my cheeks and I briskly brush them away. Why am I crying so much lately? I feel foolish. Foolish, helpless, and alone. Easton is on the island, but he isn’t here.

Zephyr is.

The chilly December air slaps my lungs with each breath. Zephyr settles on the bench beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders and rubbing me for warmth.

“I knew I couldn’t leave, but I guess…” My voice cracks. I take a moment to regain my control before continuing. “I guess I didn’t realize I would be stuck here for so long.”

He remains tight against my side, offering comfort and warmth. “You really believed you would go home? Paige, no one has ever gone back. Why would you want to?”

I gaze up at him, tears still brimming in my eyes. “It’s not as bad out there as you think. I’m not sure what they teach you here, but where I come from…it’s comfortable, safe, beautiful, and full of life.”

Though, if I thought about it much, our two ways of life are not so different. Elpis may not be a literal island on the water, but it is an island all its own. No one leaves. And they teach us all our lives that the world beyond our borders is a dangerous place.

I sniffle again. Zephyr offers me a clean handkerchief from his suit pocket. I murmur my thanks and dab my eyes dry.

“I guess I just assumed that if I played along, I could convince him to let me go home.” I scoff at my foolishness. “Stupid. My dad begged me to stay home, not to go out into the unknown. But I was so determined. Too stubborn to listen. I thought I knew better. He told me he was terrified of losing me. He will blame himself, Zephyr. Another death in a long line of loved ones lost. He deserves better.”

He tucks a stray curl away from my eyes. “You really thought you would go back?”

I nod. “Dumb, I know. But the idea that my parents, or even my brother, will suffer the loss when I’m not really gone…” My throat clenches, cutting off any further comment.

“Brother?” He stiffens his hold on me.

I bite my lip, staring into his dark eyes, praying he won’t connect Gavin to the intense Power in that battle in the city.

“Yes. He’s older by about a year and a half. Smartest person I’ve ever met.” I shudder as an icy breeze whips past. Zephyr huddles nearer. “I’m closer to him than anyone else. If I never return home, he might do something drastic.”

A shadow of sadness flickers across Zephyr’s face. “My brothers wouldn’t miss me. Dom, maybe at first. Cypress would get over it quickly. But my sister would be crushed.” His fingers linger on my neck, just below the ear. I try not to think about how his touch heats my skin. “If anything happened to Bronwyn, I would probably tear the world apart looking for her. So, I guess I get where your brother is coming from.”

I lower my voice, afraid of the answer to the question I haven’t been able to stop asking myself since capture. “Do you really expect any of us girls to fall in love with a man who has us abducted and forces us to take part in this ridiculous pageant?”

He swallows, then whispers, “No, but it’s the way things are done. No queen has ever not loved the King. The system might be flawed, but it works.”

Some inexplicable force pulses with life between us. I stare at his lips. How many rules would we break if we kissed? Did he escort me out of sight of the windows on purpose? I want it. I want the kiss from him and not his brother. How broken am I?

He inches closer. A softness in the dark pools of his eyes draws me in, entrancing me. His fingers shift on my neck, back into my hair, cradling my face in his palms. My heart races wildly. The hair on the nape of my neck rises as his fingertips trace back and forth delicately. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I might lose control.

My hands slide up the cold front of his dress shirt, feeling the tense muscles in his chest. I want to grab hold, yank him closer, force him to kiss me, but the shirt is so well-fitted I can’t grab hold of the material. Our lips are so close that his rapid, warm breaths fan out across my cheeks like wings. Once more, I wish I could fly away from here. But now I want to take him with me. I can almost feel his lips now as he inches closer, painfully slow.

We barely make a whisper of a connection when a loud thump shocks us both, breaking us from the trance. Zephyr jerks away. His sudden absence makes the cold air even more bitter. My entire body trembles—and I’m sure it isn’t from the cold.

Gavin

This morning, the Minister forced his way into my room to confront me. The Elders are unhappy with my sudden withdrawal from my duties. People are begging for my help. “You need to step into this position you carved out for yourself,” he told me. But I don’t want to. Not any longer. Not when everything I do seems to prove to these people that I’m one of their precious Idols. I don’t want any of this. I just want to open communication with Elpis and get my sister.

I sleep with the radio tucked under my pillow. I prefer sleeping with it there. It brings me closer to home. Not that it ever makes a sound. Nor do I expect it to.

The few times I have left my room—usually in search of food—I return certain someone has been snooping. Thankfully, I hide the radio and notebook in the cubby I created in the wall whenever I’m not around. When the hole closes, the wall is seamless.

Whomever sneaks into my room executes their search with great care. Did I not have Perfect Memory, I wouldn’t even notice the subtle shift in my clothing stacks or how my bed is made. For now, I will let them believe I’m clueless.

Whoever it is, they have access to the Minister’s quarters. Unfortunately, that doesn’t narrow the list down too much. I don’t know who the Minister allows in and out of his home. And there’s always the chance that it’s him.

Or Pip. She hasn’t said much to me since I rejected her advances. Her smiles are tight-lipped. Her conversations are stilted and brief. Hopefully, she just needs a little time. I definitely don’t want to lose her friendship.

The radio from Elpis has become a pet project. I pass time fiddling with it. I can’t boost the radio signal any farther than five hundred miles. The materials on hand can’t extend the range any farther. While that leaves me within range of the island where Paige was taken, I’m twice that distance from Elpis. Unless Dad sends out another team to track us down, I won’t hear from anyone.

My parents probably assume the two of us are dead. I close my eyes, picturing their faces. Picturing my sister’s face. How is she doing in the Kingdom? I haven’t Dreamed with her in a while.

I lick my lips and press the button on the radio, sending out another desperate call to home—or anyone from home who might be searching. Nothing comes back.

With a sigh, I click it off and tuck it back into the hole in my wall.

I need to see Drake. I’ve only been to his quarters once. It’s a small place, but functional for him alone.

The walk through the Haven halls sends my gut into a frenzy, as always. The eyes that follow me bring heat to my face. My steps hasten along with my pulse.

As I round a corner, I nearly collide with Elder Ally. She grabs my arms to keep me from stumbling off balance.

“In a hurry, Gavin?” she asks, smiling sweetly at me.

I swallow. “Just…going to see Drake.”

“Can we expect you to report for a repairs list in the morning?” While she is only a little older than me, Ally gives off a commanding air that sends a pulse of fear through me. She oversees the Guardians, the security force that protects the Haven. If she wanted, Ally could have them force me to do any number of tasks.

I want to tell her no, but fear the fallout of another refusal, so I hedge. “Maybe.”

Her keen eyes pick me apart as if determining the level of threat I pose. It makes my skin crawl. “I hope you understand how special you are to us, Gavin.”

A lump lodges in my throat. I couldn’t answer her if I wanted to. Not that I know what to say. Her words feel layered in hidden meaning. Or maybe it isn’t so well masked and anyone but me would pick up on it. All I can do is nod stiffly.

Ally steps aside. “Tell Drake I say hi.”

I can’t escape fast enough.

A small cluster of people congregates in the hallway near Drake’s door. I pause. Should I turn back? I don’t want to talk to these people, and the interaction with Ally has me rattled. I pivot, but before I can take a step, Drake’s familiar voice calls me to a halt.

“Gavin?”

It’s been a week since we spoke, and my last words weren’t exactly polite. Is he angry with me?

I slowly turn as Drake edges his way through the cluster, patting another boy on the shoulder as he turns his body to slide past. A flare of jealousy surges through me. Unsure what to do, I stuff my hands into my pockets. My gaze drops to the floor.

“I’m so sorry about what happened at the temple, and that I disappeared on you,” he says when he reaches my side. “I wanted to give you the space you needed. Figured you would come when you were ready.” He shrugs. “Then the hunting party needed my help. My Silence gift is helpful for sneaking up on animals. The team leader was determined to get as much as possible to help stock up for the winter.”

Hunting. That makes sense, I suppose. I nod, glancing past him at the boy he touched. It was probably nothing, but I can’t help wondering.

“Can we talk in private?” I ask.

“Absolutely.” Drake takes my hand and pulls me toward his door. His hand is warm and sends a jolt through me.

Drake nods politely to the people near his door, then closes it behind the two of us.

Unlike Pip’s bright room, Drake’s quarters are a cluttered mess of trinkets he has collected on scavenging missions. A black orb that looks like a speaker. A snow globe of a city now in ruins somewhere in the world. A wooden heron statue with a broken beak.

I pick up a pair of rope bracelets with a face like a watch. But instead of hands, one has the mountains and the other has a wave. The moment I make contact, the sensation of electronic components pings my Power.

“I just liked them,” Drake says.

I glance over my shoulder to see Drake strip off his shirt. Heat rushes to my face. I can’t help but appreciate the way the muscles in his back move. I clear my throat, mouth suddenly dry. “Where did you find them?”

“There’s an enormous shopping center in old Minneapolis we go to sometimes.” Drake slides a fresh shirt over his head.

I must look away as my heartbeat quickens. Instead, I funnel all my attention into the bracelets. The components inside are a little degraded, but still functional. I turn them over in my hand, sliding my thumb over the back of the face on each. The devices are so small I don’t need to open them to make them work again. It only takes a few seconds. The atoms respond to my energy, shaking off the rust and reconnecting.

My love is and will always be yours. The words engraved on the back of the face feel personal. What were these for? I can sense all the components inside, but it isn’t until I depress the face on the mountain bracelet that it makes sense. The other one vibrates.

“How did you do that?” Drake whispers.

I dare a glance over my shoulder, only to find him directly behind me, his face inches from mine. My stomach burst with excitement. Every part of my body comes alive in a way I’ve never felt before. Not with Liam. Not around Aron. This is bad.

He pulls his gaze from the bracelet. His dark eyes peer into me. Then he takes a quick step away as his cheeks turn pink.

Once again, I clear my throat. “I just kick-started the components inside. They are designed to communicate. I feel the messaging connections, but I think we need an outside source to make it work.”

Drake pales. “So…they’re technology? From the old days?”

“Seems like it. We probably have something back home that could help them communicate.”

Drake shuffles back, shaking his head. “No, Gavin. Turn them off.”

“What’s wrong?” I turn to him, holding both devices in my hand.

“Technology is forbidden. It’s one of the original sins.” Drake swallows.

Technology is a sin? I don’t remember that from the pages Pip shared with me. “But the water treatment and air filtration…the lights…”

“Necessities for survival are allowed. Those are frivolous.” Drake waves a trembling hand at the bracelets.

My heart sinks. If this is true, there is nothing Elpis has to offer the Haven that they will accept. If anything, they will see us as heathen sinners. “You don’t really buy into all of this, do you?”

Drake sags, raising a tremulous gaze to me. “I don’t know how else to explain what happened.”

I set the bracelets in the box on his shelf again, then join him on the edge of the bed. “I do. Back home, we have detailed records that tell us exactly what happened. Even if a few of the details are wrong, which I admit is likely, the overall truth remains the same. No deity came and cleansed the world. Humanity did.”

He flinches as if I slapped him. “But there are still too many unanswered questions.”

“Religion is founded on unanswerable questions.”

Drake gives me a flat stare, shaking his head. “How could the Prophet have predicted you? Gavin, I was in old St. Louis. I saw what you did. You wielded so much power in the fight against the Kingdom. I’ve seen nothing like it. I’ve never even heard of anything so powerful!”

I don’t just want him not to believe in all of this. I need it. Maybe it’s selfish, but his ability to use logic and think through this without the Minister’s sermons swaying him is important to me.

“Drake, there are perfectly reasonable scientific explanations for what happened.” The more I explain, the more animated my voice becomes. “In Elpis, we have teams of people who have dedicated decades to studying Powers and how they work with our genetics. They can prove beyond a doubt how and why we are the way we are. Even me. Given enough time, they could even explain why so few people in this community have Powers. We know how all this works.”

Drake smirks slightly, though it’s weak. A dimple forms on one cheek.

“What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve named your community.”

My heart stills. What can the Haven do with that information? Will it lead them to Elpis? What will they do when they see all our technology? I need to steer him away from home.

“Don’t you see?” I surge to my feet and begin pacing, unable to remain still. “Your religion is based on the idea that you should blindly follow the faith while you wait for some savior to come rescue you. But change happens through action.” I spout words I’ve heard Dad use before.

Drake rubs his chin. “Okay. Let’s say for the sake of debate that you are right. That doesn’t make the Book of the Prophet inherently wrong.”

“How do you figure?”

He straightens as if bracing himself for a fight. “Just because you can prove how we are what we are does not mean the Prophet was wrong about what comes next. At some point, all of this must get better. We can’t stay in the dark forever. And then there’s you. ‘He will come from the west.’ ‘He will wield unfathomable power.’ ‘He will have the power to remake the world.’ I saw it. Regardless of what you can prove, the Prophet was right.”

How can I argue with that logic? Coincidence? “He was a Precog.”

“What?” Drake’s face twists in confusion.

“The Prophet could see the future. That was His Power.”

“Which makes Him right.”

Again, I falter. The Prophet could see the future. He wrote it down, and it became the religion it is today. Does that mean he was right about the Idols? It’s science, not religion. His Power is explainable through science. Right or not, faith isn’t what will save these people.

Something desperate flashes in his eyes. “Besides, is hope such a terrible thing to cling to?”

I rub my neck. “No. But you don’t need a savior. You need your own strength. If you want things to change, make things change. Take ownership.”

Drake’s brows draw together. He rubs at his ear, then drops the hand in his lap. “What do you mean?”

“Our entire social structure was deeply flawed when my dad was a teen. It hurt some people and propped up others.” Just like the structure here in the Haven. “But no one had the guts to make change. No one knew how. My dad saw the flaws in the system. He saw the need and knew he couldn’t wait around for someone else to rescue them. He banded together with the people and made those changes happen.”

Drake shakes his head. “We aren’t as strong as you. Most of these people have no gifts.”

“My dad doesn’t, either. He didn’t do it to flex his Power muscles. He did it because it was right. It was what needed to be done.”

Drake draws back. “I don’t see how this all connects.”

I inwardly groan. How can he not see? It’s so clear to me. I take an urgent step toward him. “Drake, something here is off. The Minister controls everything and the Elders bow to his will. When I tried to help people, they stepped in and shut me down, then gave me a bunch of menial tasks way below what they know I’m capable of.”

“So you admit you are capable of great things.”

I wince. He’s twisting my words to fit his beliefs. “That isn’t my point right now. Drake, the Elders are hiding something.”

He shakes his head in fervent denial.

“You don’t need these imaginary Idols to save you. Be the change your people need. Claw your way out of the earth yourselves.”

“Imaginary…” Drake mutters. Irritation flashes in his dark eyes. His jaw twitches, and the vein in his neck throbs.

I press on, praying he will understand. “Make change happen while working toward fulfilling the Prophet’s vision for your future on your own. Why can you not have your faith and be your faith? These two things are not mutually exclusive, are they?”

He heaves out a sigh, shoulders sagging. “No.”

Relief washes over me. He gets it. He must.

Drake rises, closing the distance between us, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. The hard set of his jaw makes me ache. I’ve made him angry. I didn’t want this. Let anyone else be angry with me except him. I’m not sure I can handle it if he turns against me. That might destroy me utterly. I would accept Liam’s rejection a hundred times over this.

“You don’t understand what life is like here.” The pain is so acute in his tone that even my socially hopeless brain catches on. “You never step back from yourself to look at anything else. To look at me.”

If only he knew. “I do.” All the time.

He shakes his head, sadness pouring off him. I ache to fix it. “You live in your own bubble. And that’s fine. It’s you, and I love that, but sometimes it hurts. Gavin, you constantly talk about your family. You drone on about how much you miss them. How much you love them. But you have never asked about my family.”

I blink, opening my mouth to retort. But he’s right. I haven’t. Not once. Shame flushes through me. Not only have I never asked, but I have only heard a passing reference to his father since my arrival. My gaze sweeps through his small quarters. Cozy. Comfortable. Fit for one.

“Drake, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

I lick dry lips. My limbs tremble. Please don’t hate me. I have never needed acceptance from anyone as wholly as from him.

To make matters worse, I don’t understand how to connect these dots between religion and his family, which only increases my frustration with myself. “How does this relate to our debate?”

Drake stops so close the toes of our boots nearly touch. I can see the flecks of green in his dark eyes. “Life in the Haven is hard. Most people don’t live past thirty without a gift. Somehow, gifts extend our lives here. But people die from illness, injury…childbirth.” He swallows, dipping his head away. “Mom died giving birth to me. Dad was crushed in a tunnel expansion project when I was ten. I barely remember him.”

The revelation punches me in the gut. Pain catches in the back of my throat. I can’t even imagine what that is like to lose one’s entire family. And here I’ve been lamenting not being able to see my own since the moment I woke up on that boat. What kind of pain have I caused him? I’m not sure I’ve ever hated myself so much. My apology comes out thick with grief and regret.

Drake draws in a breath, steeling himself, then raises his chin. “The point is my story isn’t unique. There are so many kids here who only know their parents for a few years, if at all. Some people live their entire lives without ever seeing the surface.” His voice tenses with a pain of his own. “The only thing that gets us through that darkness, that gives us hope, is faith. Our dream that one day things will be better.”

The passion of his speech, the emotions he puts on display with each statement, each word, draws the strength from my limbs. I can’t meet his gaze any longer. I stare past him at nothing and release a long breath.

Drake has a point. Historically speaking, people cling hardest to religion during the worst periods of global strife. It’s inherently human to seek hope when all seems lost. I don’t have the right to tear away his hope. Nor do I want to. I just want him to understand that there are answers out there, that not everything the Minister teaches is true. That something here is wrong. But I need to see the actual Book of the Prophet to prove anything.

I can’t force this on him. He needs to get there on his own. I can help him find the path to see for himself, but he must be the one to see it.

“I have a proposal for you,” I say, taking a step back. While I enjoy being so close to him, I don’t want to give him the wrong idea—or set myself up for another bitter disappointment. “We agree to disagree. Don’t ever try forcing me into another position like what happened at the temple. I’m not a savior of anything. But I will keep an open mind where your feelings are concerned.”

Drake raises a skeptical eyebrow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “And?”

I hold out my hand to shake. “And I won’t try to convince you that your religion is wrong, as long as you keep an open mind to other possibilities.”

Drake hesitates, staring at my hand, then nods. “Deal.” He slides his warm hand into mine, shaking briefly before pulling me into a hug.

My heart hammers against my ribs. Can he feel it? This means nothing. It’s just a friendly hug. But no amount of repeated reassurance can conquer what engulfs my senses. Drake smells of fresh earth and charcoal. If someone stuck a match right now, I would be consumed in his flames.