Earthquake (8 page)

He leans forward so close our noses are mere inches apart, but I can’t move. Can’t back away.

“You did not
create
something to save yourself in those fateful moments, Tavia. You transformed the entire section of the plane around you into something else. And because you had not yet resurged with Logan,” he says, inclining his head to my lover, who sits silent and pale-faced, “a few minutes after the crash, that section of the plane reverted to its original form. As though it had never been in the crash at all.
Because it hadn’t
.”

I look into Daniel’s eyes as the truth of everything he’s saying slams into me like a boulder. “How is that even possible?” I whisper. I’ve accepted so many impossible things in the last few weeks.

But this?

“Sometime in your past lives between when you were Rebecca and now, something happened. It turned you into something that is neither a Destroyer nor a Creator, but a hybrid of the two. A Transformist, I’m calling you, since such a phenomenon has never happened before.”

Daniel stands now, his face finally leaving mine, and I gasp for air that isn’t shared by him.

“Not only that, it appears to have returned you to your original level of power. Possibly even the level you possessed as an Earthmaker.”

He looks down at me, and despite his next words, I feel very, very small.

“Tavia, you are the most unique, the most
powerful
of any Earthbound in the world, and that is why the Reduciata will stop at
nothing
to have you.”

Nausea takes hold
of me, and my heart feels like it’s fallen into my stomach. I sense Logan rising, and though my mind registers that he’s walked a few feet away, I hear nothing, see nothing, as my brain spins and tries to take all of this in.

Again. Because now I see why Sonya was so afraid. The huge increase in power that I didn’t recognize. The unexplainable abilities I assumed were normal.

She understood. I didn’t. But I do now.

“But . . . but what does this have to do with the virus?” I ask as the tiniest stream of logic works its way through the storm in my head. “Sammi and Mark said the Reduciates needed me because of the virus.”

Daniel sits again and pulls out a large cotton handkerchief, dabbing at his forehead. “My team wasn’t fast enough to prevent the fiasco that happened in Camden when the Reduciates found you, but we were able to retrieve the bodies of our Curatoriates afterward.”

Bodies
. Mark, Sammi, and . . . “Elizabeth?” I whisper.

His lips press into a hard line. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much left of her, but yes, we did retrieve some remains.”

I didn’t realize until that moment that I’d been holding on to the tiniest thread of hope that she was alive. I choke back tears—I will
not
cry in front of this man.

“We . . .” he hesitates, and I know I’m not going to like whatever he’s going to say next. “We were able to retrieve tissue samples from Mark that still had active virus specimens in them and—”

“Oh gods,” I say, letting my head fall into my hands, pretty certain I
am
going to be sick after all.

“I know it’s hard to think scientifically about this, Tavia. But I promise you that using his body to save others is what he would have wanted.”

People use that phrase all the time. It’s easy to say when the person in question isn’t there to contradict you. Will never be there again.

“And in the last two weeks we’ve made some tremendous discoveries.”

Daniel’s voice slowly begins to register again, and I try to focus on what he’s saying and not the image of Mark throwing his charred body over his wife as he hopelessly tried to protect her in their last moments.

“As far as we can tell, the virus was intended not only to kill off the majority of the human population, but also most of the Earthbounds.” He laces his fingers together, and a wrinkle appears between his brows. “The Reduciates have this theory—”

“That they can get their power back if the Earthbounds die forever,” I interrupt rudely. “I know all this. How do
I
fit in?” Because that’s the crux of it. How does my having become a Transformist help the Curatoria? And threaten the Reduciata enough to send assassins after me in my former life?

Lives. They killed Rebecca too.

“The virus mutated immediately after being released into water sources,” Daniel says calmly, ignoring my current attitude. “It’s creating the chaos you see now. The crazy weather, the rapid deaths. Over four
thousand
people died of the virus yesterday alone. Which wouldn’t be so bad for the Reduciates, except that now the vaccine they created to inoculate themselves against their own disease is useless.”

“Can’t they just get an Earthbound scientist to study the new virus and
create
a new vaccine?”

“No. All a creator can do is make
more
of the current vaccine. The one they have now took them many lifetimes to develop. Coming up with a new one would take so long that by the time it was ready, it would be worthless; there would simply be no one left. What they
need
is someone who’s extremely powerful to study both the virus and the old vaccine and transform the useless strands of genetic material within the current vaccine into something that can effectively fight the mutation.”

I stare at him with wide eyes. “It sounds impossible.”

“It almost is,” Daniel says. “You would need to have broken into the most top-secret vault in the Reduciata headquarters and stolen a vial of their vaccine, for starters. Then you would have to find an extremely powerful Transformist and pair her with a state-of-the-art lab including a few pieces of technology that haven’t even been invented yet.” He stares at me unblinkingly for several long seconds. “Luckily,” he says in barely more than a whisper, “I have all of those things.”

I feel cold and alone sitting on this couch and being stared at by a stranger. Ignoring any semblance of social acceptability, I rise from the couch without a word and walk over to Logan. I bury my face in his chest, and after a half second’s hesitation, he wraps his arms around me and rocks me very slowly back and forth.

Is this it? The secret I’ve literally been killed for? Something . . . something about it feels wrong. But this has
got
to be it.

With my ear pressed against Logan’s chest I can hear his heart; it’s pounding. I don’t know how to read him right now, and even trying to listen to Rebecca’s voice in my head isn’t helping. What I do know is that he makes me feel stronger, and that I can’t do this—any of this—without him.

Mark was right. I can save the world.

No, I can
possibly
save the world. No pressure, right?

After a while—when I know I’m back in control of myself—I turn and cross my arms over my chest. I lean very slightly against Logan—not enough for Daniel to notice, but enough to draw courage from him.

Goodness knows my own reserves are empty.

I try to think clearly—look at this rationally. Is it such a big deal to just help him? I mean, look how much he’s helped me. Us. That reminds me . . .

“Where did you get the painting, Daniel?”

He raises an eyebrow, and I can tell that he thinks he knows what I’m talking about but doesn’t want to say anything until he’s sure.

“The painting that awakened Logan.”

“Ah,” he says with a smile. “The painting that turned our lights off.”

I know he’s trying to bait me—to distract me—but
that
assertion is too much. “Why would that have anything to do with the power outage?”

“The moment of resurging is . . . quite extraordinary. While it generally accompanies both parties remembering each other, it is, in fact, a separate thing. It’s a moment of total acceptance in both Earthbounds’ minds. When that moment happens there is often a manifestation of power—our powers overflowing as they recharge, I suppose is the best way to say it. But you, Tavia, are so much stronger than any Earthbound we’ve seen in centuries. I suspect that in that moment you unconsciously created a flow of pure energy that transferred to the electrical conduits of our building, and let’s just say they were not equipped to handle such a large surge.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Blew every fuse in the place. A price we’re most happy to pay, mind you.”

I think of the way I accidentally made my hair grow, and his explanation makes a horrendous kind of sense. But I’m not so easily put off. “The painting, Daniel. I know where it was last. How did
you
come to have it?”

His laugh breaks off. “I have spies everywhere, Tavia. Even in the heart of the Reduciata. I
have
to. How else would I have known you were captured?”

“So you took it?”

“I sent for it.”

He’s being cryptic. But do I want a full explanation in front of Logan? Do I want him to say he got it from the Reduciate boy I was in love with?

“Did you get anything else from the Reduciata? When you rescued us, I mean?” I ask, remembering for the first time that there’s something else they have that I desperately want.

“Besides the two of you, with your limbs all attached?” he asks dryly.

“I’m not saying I’m ungrateful,” I say quickly. “But, did you . . . I had a backpack, and it was—”

Before I can get the words “kind of important” out, Daniel is already shaking his head. “We barely made it out with the two of you. Besides, I suspect you can replace anything you need. Can’t you?”

“It—” I don’t dare reveal the braid’s existence. Not even after all this. “There was a journal,” I settle on. “And some files.”

His forehead wrinkles in concern. “I admit, I’m not pleased things like that fell into Reduciate hands. But I suppose if we had to make a trade, we got the better end of the bargain. Anything else important that you were carrying?”

Nothing important, nothing that can’t be replaced—except my memories, the ones contained in Sonya’s braid. The Reduciates wouldn’t know what the braid was. They probably threw it away. The thought makes me want to cry.

I change the subject instead.

“Sammi and Mark didn’t trust you,” I say. “Why not, and why should
I
?”

Daniel’s face crumples, and I try to hide my surprise at his reaction. “I suspect you’ll understand this better now that you’ve reunited with Logan, but contrary to what many Earthbounds think, even with the entire force of the Curatoria behind me, finding an Earthbound’s
diligo
is hardly an easy task.” He pauses and seems to be pushing away a grief that doesn’t match the cheerful, if businesslike, man we’ve seen thus far. “I haven’t found mine in two lifetimes,” he finally chokes out. “I don’t know where she is, how old she is, how many times she’s died.” He looks up at me, and his eyes are no longer the sparkling, friendly eyes I was surprised to see when we first walked in. They’re hollow and dull. “If we don’t stop this virus, my beautiful angel could run through all seven of her lives in a matter of
months
. Before this one, I lived two lifetimes alone, running the Curatoria because that’s what we agreed long ago that we should do. But I don’t want to live another
four
that same way, knowing that nothing but lonely centuries and endless death await me.”

My breathing is ragged, but I try to hide it—try to act like I wasn’t facing similar thoughts only days ago. “Why would that make them not trust you?”

His eyes drop and he looks guilty. “I’m afraid desperation has led me to make some choices I would not have a hundred years ago. I’ve risked lives on ventures that had a sadly low chance of success, and I’ve done it in the name of the Curatoria when in truth it was all very personal. I’m not saying I don’t have regrets, or that I was never wrong,” he adds as he once again lifts his chin and meets my eyes. “But maybe you’ll understand that in a way Sammi and Mark never could. They simply don’t comprehend the depth of love between two Earthbounds. Technically, the risks I took, the rules I broke, were for
everyone’s
benefit. Everyone will be facing this same dilemma in a very short amount of time. But I won’t lie to you and say I was thinking of everyone. I was only thinking of her.”

He resumes his seat on the couch and looks almost sheepish as he raises his hand to gesture at me. “And now I’ve brought you into my headquarters. An immensely powerful young Transformist who refuses to take our oaths. Many would say
that
is the stupidest thing of all. But Tavia, you are our last hope, and I’m tired of lying to everyone and saying there are things we can do. There is
nothing
we can do. There is only what
you
can do.”

I’m still not convinced. “How did you even know the Reduciata captured us? It seems to me that it would have been easier to nab us from Phoenix rather than infiltrate a secret Reduciate holding facility.”

“The opposite, actually,” Daniel says, a touch sheepish.

I stare silently, waiting for him to explain himself.

He glances around him, as though expecting to see someone. “This is extremely confidential information, but I want you to be able to trust me.” He hesitates. Then, “It has taken several years, but I have a spy who lives right in the Reduciata headquarters. A compound, really. He’s not senior enough to get much of the information I
wish
I had, but I’m trying to be patient. He wasn’t able to find out where you had run away to, but he did discover that
they
knew. I made one of the hardest decisions I have ever made as the leader of the Curatoria. To sit back and do nothing. To let them do my work for me. I was all but certain they wouldn’t kill you—that they needed you as badly as I do.”

“You gambled with my life.”

“I had to,” Daniel says, and it’s the sharpest tone he has used thus far. He takes an unsteady breath. “Somehow, they knew where you would go. They knew where Logan was. I let them do my work for me, essentially. And then, as soon as I could, I sent a team and got you both out of there. I’m afraid it was the best I could do. The best
we
could do.”

I’m silent for long seconds, trying to sort everything out in my head. Finally, I settle on the true heart of the matter. “Would you have killed Sammi and Mark and Elizabeth yourself just to get me here?”

“Yes,” Daniel says without hesitation.

“And Logan?”

“You were useless to me without him.”

“Because my ability to transform the vaccine wouldn’t have been permanent,” I reply, not letting myself cringe at the word
useless
.

“Exactly.”

I pause, then with my heart in my throat I ask, “Would you have taken down an entire plane full of people to get me here?”

He pauses and then looks up at me. “I believe I would have,” he whispers.

“Then how are you any better than them?”

“Because they want you to save their elite. I want you to save
everyone
.”