Graced Feather

Walking

"Died? What do you mean, died?"

I know I sound crazy as I repeat what Even signed. But with the expressions on all of my friends' faces, they apprently don't think so.

Dylan steps forward, and lays a hand on my arm. His skin is blazing like a fire. I realize that I'm shivering, so I move closer to his blazing heat.

"Sophia sensed you die, Air. Since you two are sisters who share a very powerful mother, you can sense what happens to the other. Also, Sophia is what is known as a Bleeder. They can sense when people they are close to die," Dylan tells me softly, as if that would lessen the blow.

I feel my soul crumble, but I know somehow that my face has turned to stone. So what if I've died? I have information against Curator now. He can't touch ne, I think to myself.

But I know that it's a lie. Curator will have no qualms over killing me the next chance he gets.

I square my shoulders, and say,"Well, that's nice. What's happened up here that I need to know about?"

I can see on my friends' faces that they're surprised and worried by this sudden change. Well, except for Even, who looks excited.

He starts signing to me as we walk, telling me all about what's happened in the past month.

I lean against Dylan as we walk, my legs still weak and my breathing still hard. Dylan doesn't seem to care, and takes most of my weight as we walk along the hallways.

We pass no one as we walk. When I question this, Sophia answers.

"There's a new curfew. Just got put in a week ago. No one should be out of bed after nine p.m. or before six a.m.. It's to crack down on the supposed spies."

My sister's voice sours when she says the word spies, as if the word tasted like pickles and lemons.

"Has anyone else been caught?" I ask. I hate how my voice trembles, but the others apparently don't notice my weakness. Or just don't want to point it out.

Evan shakes his head, his dark hair flopping. Even reaches over and swipes some of the hair out of Evan's eyes. The scarred boy looks surprised, and Even shrugs and signs, It was bothering me.

I ignore this weird interaction, though my brain files it away for later examination.

"Was anyone else caught along with me?" I ask. Evan shakes his head again, sending his hair flying into his eyes again. Even frowns at him, and Evan smirks.

"No. No one except for you was taken. But we were all banged up pretty bad. Curator thought that was a fair punishment. We had to heal by ourselves, though," Dehlila answers.

I look at her, confused. "By yourselves? But don't you normally heal by yourselves?" I ask.

Sophia laughs and says,"No. We have a healer here. He's the son of the Iris Healer, so it makes sense."

"Not all Iris children have the powers of their parents," Dylan says, the first thing he's said since we started walking.

Sophia turns around to face Dylan, still walking.

"I know that," she says. "I mean, I can't hide anything found on earth like my dad can. Nor can I instantly tell truth from lie like my mom can. But I just meant that it seems to be a pattern with Iris kids. You can teleport like your mom."

Dylan frowns, and says,"I know that. But my power isn't as strong as hers. It's weakened by my dad's power. But I have none of his powers."

"What about Reyol? Does anyone know his powers?" I ask suddenly, my mind flashing back to what Eris said in the tunnels.

"What about me?"

All of us turn at the sound of Reyol's rich voice. He's walking up to us, hands in the pockets of his jeans. His hair changes from black to blue to white as he stares at us.

"What are your powers?" I ask, the only one of us who seems to be able to talk.

Reyol shrugs, and says,"I can light areas around me. I can also calm people down. But only slightly. If they're having a panic attack over a math quiz, I can't calm them down."

He smiles at me, but my mind is focused on working out this dilemna. A plan is forming slowly in my mind, a plan that could kill us all.

"Do you know who your parents are, Reyol?" I ask, still frowning as I think. Because of this, I don't see his look of surprise.

"I do, but I don't want to tell you. At least not here. We all should be in bed. I just came to find you," he says. I nod, and look around at my friends.

"Reyol's right. We need sleep. We'll talk in the morning," I say. This seems to break the weird spell holding all my friends captive.

They blink and nod, heading off in different directions. Dylan stays with me, though, as does Evan.

I remember Dylan saying something about divided hallways. So I wondered why he was walking with me and Evan towards the Graced hallway.

I got my answer when he follows me into my room. I drop onto my bed, moaning in delight at its softness.

I wrap the blankets around myself, curling into a ball. I was still frozen and shivering, but the blankets helped.

I didn't notice that Dylan was laaying beside me until I rolled over and landed on his chest.

He grunts, and pushes me off. "Why are you here?" I mumble, still under the covers.

"I'm here," he mutters as he wrestles some of the blankets from me,"To protect you. And because you are ice cold and these blankets won't do anything for you if they aren't warm."

"Then why don't you warm them up? And if you were worried about my safety, then why isn't Evan in here? He's warm and protective," I mutter back, rolling back over. My body wouldn't relax. It makes me think that I was tied to that chair for a long time.

Dylan stops moving, and asks calmly,"Would you rather have Evan in here?" I hear another question under his words, so I roll back over to face him.

I stare at him for a while, watching his blue pupils pulse softly. He watches me as well. Neither of us blink.

"No," I say finally. Before he can reply, I lay my body full out beside his.

I feel him stiffen in surprise, but I don't care. He's warm, and I'm frozen. Fair logic.

I fall asleep after some time, though nightmares plague me. I see knives and chains, twisted metal and sharp glass. I feel blood on my arms, my face, my body. I hear myself scream several times.

I wake up before Dylan the next morning. I lay still, though, wondering about my dreams.

What's happened to me? I ask myself. But myself doesn't answer, so I simply lay there and listen to Dylan breathe as he sleeps.

Such a simple thing, breathing. It's hard to imagine it taken from you forever.