

## Sierra

by Cy Bishop

Copyright 2014 Cy Bishop

Smashwords Edition

With special thanks to:

God, my patient family, Google,

and Jessica Dodson for the fantastic cover

Chapter 1

Jacqueline Vega twisted in her sheets, caught up in the same nightmare that had plagued her for the last month. Her legs twitched as she moved in the dream. Except she wasn't Jaq the boring college student here. She was a little girl named Sierra.

Her tunic bunched and caught on her leggings as she climbed from branch to branch, steadily moving upward, refusing to look back down. Multicolored armbands flapped around her. Family emblems tied to the branches of the old climbing tree as proof of how high each kid had climbed. Her own red armband, showing her as part of the Riglen family, had never been on the tree.

Today that would change.

The boys clustered below, calling up at her. Thomas, the older boy who sometimes was nice, seemed to be rooting for her to make it. She liked him. She wasn't sure why he let smelly old Derek boss everyone around so much. Maybe if Thomas was in charge, she could play with the boys sometimes. Without having to prove herself.

That was why she climbed the tree now. She was six years younger than any other kid in the village, and twenty years younger than any other girl. With no one her age to play with, she tried to tag along with the boys. But Derek said she couldn't keep up. Her pudgy cousin, Ricky, said she should just go bake cookies with the moms. Even smarty-pants Johnny with his crooked glasses on the end of his nose had declared that her smaller legs physically prevented her from doing all the same things they did.

But now she was going to prove them wrong.

Johnny and Derek tried to shout for her to come back down. Ricky had vanished. He probably ran away so he wouldn't get in trouble if she got hurt. That's why the others wanted her to come back. They didn't want to get in trouble.

But she was determined to prove it this time. She could keep up. If they ran, she'd chase them. If they swam, she'd get her floating jacket and paddle after them. And if they climbed—

Her foot slipped. She gasped, but managed to clutch the branch above her before she fell. She took a few deep breaths. Momma said this tree wasn't safe for six-year-olds. Maybe Momma had been right.

"Come down already," Derek called up at her. "Quit being dumb!"

Sierra made a face and resumed climbing. Stupid Derek. She'd show him.

Her hand closed on a branch with a blue armband. The color of the Vetig family. Johnny's armband. She slowed. Nothing but bare branches above this one. No more armbands. She'd already reached the highest one.

She grinned and sat down on the branch, wiggling her butt against the blue armband to get back at Johnny for being mean. He'd said it was too hard for a little girl to climb the tree, but she'd done it. She'd proved she was just as good as those stinky boys.

Sierra tugged her red armband free from her arm and tied it to the next branch up. She'd beaten them. They'd have to let her play now. She shifted her position to start the climb back down, but a glimmer of something on a higher branch turned her attention upwards once more. A green stone, almost see-through, sat on a branch above her. It had tiny scratches on its side.

And it was growing.

Her fingers tightened.

The scratches began to glow. Sierra stared, mesmerized as they lengthened before her eyes. They looked funny, almost like writing.

The whole tree shook. The little stone had grown into a giant boulder. It towered above her head, teetering on the thin branch.

Her throat got tight, but all she could do was stare in terror at the mass of stone hovering over her, threatening to fall.

It lurched forward.

She screamed and scrambled to climb down. Her foot slipped, and she couldn't catch herself this time. Her body slammed into branch after branch as the rock crashed its way down behind her, eager to crush her into the ground below.

Jaq gasped as she bolted upright in bed. She trembled for a moment, sweat dripping from her brow, as she tried to calm herself. It was just the nightmare again. She didn't even know why it still scared her.

She shook her head. It had been so vivid, she ached where her body had hit branches on the way down. No, not her body—Sierra's.

The dream wouldn't disturb her so much if it wasn't for the fact that she saw it directly through Sierra's eyes. It felt so real, almost as if it was a memory instead of a dream. She closed her eyes. It couldn't be a memory. It just wasn't possible.

She was sure of it.

A faint snore came from the other side of the small dorm room. Jaq glanced over at the tangle of blonde curls on the other bed. At least Helena was still getting a good night's rest. Jaq honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to sleep through the night without the nightmare waking her up. She'd feel even worse if her issue disrupted her roommate's sleep, as well.

She slid back down onto her pillow and closed her eyes. She'd never believed that dreams had any meaning. They were just random neurons firing while the brain took care of itself during the sleep cycle. But to have the same dream night after night for this long? There had to be some significance to it.

She just wished she could figure out what it was so it would go away.

* * *

Jaq fought a yawn and pulled her coat tighter around herself against the cold morning air. She stood on the compound's light rail platform with the rest of her history class, waiting for the high-speed train to whisk them to the museum. The sun hid behind the sky's usual gray, the light glowing through a layer of clouds that whispered of rain but only occasionally carried out those threats.

Everyone else clustered in groups, chattering on about the latest sporting event or who was dating whom and why that was such a bad idea. The sleepy compound behind them was only just beginning to stir with the younger-grade students and a few ambitious college students with early classes. Here at the light rail platform, the sprawling landscaping of the compound transitioned into one of the city's many tourism districts. The heart of the city towered in the distance, metal skyscrapers dominating the skyline.

Helena's laugh rattled the air beside Jaq, and she glanced up and pretended to have been paying attention. The collection of friendly girls and admiring boys orbiting Helena paid Jaq no notice. She tugged on her hair and reminded herself it was better that way. The way it should be. Helena was a Davela, a natural beauty raised in a culture that prized appearance and popularity. Her exotic looks, creamy skin, and luxurious blonde curls drew people to her, and her sweet nature and innocent charm kept them coming back.

Jaq, on the other hand, was too tall, too gangly, and had no figure to speak of. Her coarse black hair refused to cooperate, made worse by the short style she'd been forced to adopt after an incident in mechanics class a month ago. And her Cazael upbringing taught her that knowledge was far more important than appearance. She'd never used any beauty tools more complex than a hairbrush until she met Helena. Even then, Helena's attempts to convert her had failed to make any lasting changes. You can throw paint on a stick, but it's still just a stick.

Deanna and Lydia, Helena's best friends, hovered on Helena's other side. Also Davelas, they looked like they could be Helena's sisters. Or clones. Three perfect girls in a row, like a trio of fashion dolls. Bobbing their heads in choreographed agreement with each other.

"What do you think, Jaq?" Helena asked. "Aren't the new curfew rules outrageous?"

Jaq's cheeks immediately flamed as all eyes turned on her. She was grateful her dark skin didn't show blushes as easily as Helena's did. "Uh... sure." Why did Helena feel a need to call her out, to put the spotlight on her? She'd rather blend into the background, like she did in class. She knew her friend meant well, pushing her to be more social, but it just wasn't her. Besides, it wasn't like the others had any reason to care what she thought. She wasn't anyone important.

Helena's smile remained on her, waiting for more.

Jaq squirmed. "Actually, I sort of understand. I mean, the library was vandalized—"

"Yeah, the new curfew's totally lame. But hey, you guys are coming to the match tonight, right?" Christopher interrupted, flashing a winning grin at the dream-doll trio. The conversation immediately shifted to some sports game Jaq had never quite understood.

She sighed. At least the attention was no longer on her. Yes, Helena meant well, but the others obviously had little patience for an outsider. And she was used to the role by now.

Helena was the first person Jaq had found, aside from her own family, who was completely at ease around her. Everyone else always seemed to be trying to figure her out, to work out where she fit in. She wasn't a Davela, obviously, or a near-albino Gavuun. Her dark-chocolate skin ruled those out. Same for the southern-genteel Wuiens, whose skin tones never grew darker than a deep tan. Which only left Cazaels. She'd been adopted into a Cazael family when she was seven years old. People tended to assume she was a Cazael. But she and every Cazael she met knew at a glance that she wasn't. No Cazaels had the caramel undertones of her skin or the coarseness of her hair.

A flash of memory flitted across her mind. Kids linking arms and marching away from her in the schoolyard. Eating lunch by herself as the Cazael kids whispered and giggled. Keeping their distance from the strange outsider who wasn't like them.

Jaq exhaled and watched the swirls of her breath dissipate. Tugged on her hair again. She'd come to accept her place in the world long ago. As long as she kept her head down and her grades up, no one bothered her.

A loudly cleared throat silenced the prattling and drew everyone's eyes to the front of the platform, where Professor Vonkaen gave the mass of students a severe look. "I'm glad to see everyone on time for once. I hope you all remember that you are representatives of our compound while out in the city. I'm certain no one will do anything which might tarnish our school's reputation for excellence."

He cast another severe glare across them before continuing. "While there are many interesting and new exhibits in the museum, I expect that you will give special attention to the exhibits which correlate with our recent studies. I don't suppose any of you remember what chapter five covered?"

Jaq raised her hand.

"Jarod."

"The establishment of the Enforcers, sir," Jarod said.

"Good. So what department of the museum would include an exhibit relating to that topic?"

Jaq raised her hand.

"Christopher, I don't suppose you might enlighten us?"

The muscular jock shrugged.

"Very well, then. Eric."

Jaq pulled her coat tighter and glanced back at the track while Eric answered. How much longer before the light rail arrived?

"Excellent," the professor said. "And who can tell me the main topic of chapter six?"

She didn't bother raising her hand this time. She always did at first, partly out of habit and partly to make sure no one could accuse her of not trying. But the professors never gave her any more attention than the other students did. She wasn't pretty or popular. She wasn't from a rich family. She wasn't one of the school's 'golden students,' the wunderkinds who got perfect grades, were star athletes, led the compound's top clubs, tutored the younger students, and looked like fashion models. She was just that stringy chick who was always near Helena.

Just Jaq.

The light rail whooshed up to the station with an almost inaudible hum. The professor frowned at it as if it had deliberately kept him from quizzing the class further, then waved a hand, dismissing them. "As I said, pay attention. There may be a test tomorrow."

A collective groan rose from the crowd. The chatter resumed as they quickly loaded onto the train. Helena pulled Jaq along to the nearest bench. Deanna and Lydia plopped onto the bench facing them and set to griping about how unfair it was to already have another test when they'd just had one a month ago.

Jaq sat next to the window and looked out, waiting for the loading to finish and the train to start moving. A variety of businesses lined the street across from the compound. Most were convenience stores, cafes, and cheap restaurants, tempting students with fatty alternatives to the relatively bland diet supplied by the compound. Punctuating the garish sea of neon were dozens of temples. Just like everywhere else in the city, a temple rested on every corner, offering the opportunity to worship just about anything.

Movement caught her attention, and she looked down at the corner just opposite the station. A couple of Enforcers were talking to a man outside one of the temples.

Jaq's heart skipped a beat, as it always did when she saw Enforcers. Any sign of their presence—the uniforms, the flashing lights, the blockades—made her nervous, even when she hadn't done anything wrong. She had to remind herself that their presence had nothing to do with her. Still, she didn't relax until the light rail slid forward, rapidly picking up speed.

The prattle around her blurred as much as the buildings whizzing past. She tried to hold back another yawn and failed. Stupid nightmare.

Her brain chewed on the problem like a tricky math equation. She'd had no change in diet or activity to blame the nightmare on. And the more she had it, the more sure she was that it had to have some meaning. And if she could just figure out that meaning, the nightmare would stop.

But what meaning could it have? Everything about it was unfamiliar. People who live in villages and wear tunics and leggings instead of jeans and t-shirts. And wearing armbands. And with no kids under the age of twelve, save Sierra. Her forays into the library records to seek out any culture similar to the one in her dream had turned up no results.

The part she didn't want to admit, didn't like to think about, was that while the setting was completely foreign, it felt bizarrely familiar. As if she'd been there before. As if it was home.

A thought tugged at the back of her mind. It wasn't the first time it had done so in the last month, and she fought to shut it out every time.

What if she was Sierra?

As much as she tried to reject the thought as foolishness, her brain kept pointing out the logical possibility. She had no memories of her life before Mama and Papa, Maria and Antonio Vega, adopted her at the age of seven. The little girl in the dream was six. The timing fit. And with no memories of her earlier childhood to prove who she was before the adoption, how could she be sure this wasn't some long-forgotten memory emerging from the subconscious?

The idea brought with it a tiny spark of hope that part of her clung to. If she was Sierra, then maybe there other people like her somewhere. Somewhere she belonged.

But the thought was ridiculous. If there really was a village today with people wearing ancient clothing styles and tying armbands to trees, there would be anthropological studies and articles and reports on them. Pictures. Documentation. She'd found no such thing.

No, the nightmare had to mean something else. Something symbolic. Her brain was telling her she shouldn't try to fit in. Or she shouldn't try to best others. Or to stay away from trees.

Jaq snorted. She was grasping at straws, and she knew it.

Helena leaned over. "What's up?"

Jaq blinked, remembering the others around her. Deanna and Lydia stared, waiting for Helena to return her attention to them. Jaq's cheeks flamed again. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"So anyway," Lydia said, impatience in her tone, "I was telling you about that dress I saw."

The blur of scenery gradually differentiated into buildings, cars, and people, marking their arrival at the museum. Jaq stood. "We're here."

The other three followed her off the light rail, jabbering and paying no attention to the impressive museum building stretching before them. Scrollwork added a flourish to the stones, and elegant pillars towered over the marble steps that led up to the massive glass doors.

Professor Vonkaen cleared his throat over the crowd, capturing their attention once more. "We meet here to catch the light rail back at 2:30 sharp. Anyone who misses it will have to return to the compound at their own expense." With that, he gave a dismissive wave. The students surged into the building, and the discussions turned to excitement about what they planned to see inside.

"Come on," Helena said as she pushed forward, catching Jaq's arm along the way. "Let's check out the new exhibits."

* * *

"Oh, look at that!" Helena gasped, leaning closer to a cracked vase. She skittered over to the next display case, which showed a handful of ancient tools. "And these! Can you imagine that people used to use stuff like that?"

"How do you think they held that one?" Deanna giggled, pointing to one. She spun toward another display of artifacts. "Ooh, check this out!"

Jaq followed. She couldn't help but feel amused by the girls' hyperkinetic pace. "You guys want to slow down a little? You aren't even reading the information."

Helena opened her mouth to respond, but a large crowd in the next section captured her attention. "What's going on over there?"

"I want to see!" Lydia said, scurrying past with Deanna right behind her.

Groaning, Jaq allowed Helena to drag her into the next room to join the crowd. The people were all packed together so tightly, she couldn't even see what they were looking at.

A museum employee stationed beside the exhibit smiled at the mass of people. "This artifact was found in an excavation near the city of Parae two weeks ago. These mysterious symbols are probably some ancient form of language, but it's like no language modern scientists have ever seen before."

"I can't see!" Lydia complained.

"Come on, around this side," Helena said, tugging at her friends.

Jaq followed the other girls, still amused at their crazy pace. They'd get bored soon and spend the rest of the time in the gift shop. She'd walk through again after that so she could properly take in the exhibits.

"Wow," Helena gasped.

Swallowing a yawn, Jaq craned her neck to see above her roommate's head. The yawn caught in her throat when she saw what was on the platform.

A green, agate-like boulder. With scratches on one side.

Just like the one in her nightmare.

Chapter 2

Jaq stared. Blinked. Blinked again, harder this time. But nothing would make the rock disappear. It stubbornly remained in place, mocking her sanity with its presence.

This couldn't be real.

Helena frowned at the display. "What's so important about that? It's just some big rock."

Lydia shrugged. "Want to check out the gift shop?"

"Sure. Come on, Jaq," Helena called after her as she followed Lydia and Deanna out of the room.

Jaq wanted to go with them. She'd live the rest of her life in the gift shop if it meant never looking at this thing again. But she couldn't tear her gaze away.

This was impossible. There had to be some reasonable explanation. She craned her neck and moved a few steps to the right for a better view.

The scratches on the side of the rock began to glow.

A tiny whimper escaped her lips. She couldn't move. This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream.

As each symbol lit up, words flowed through her mind. Words that stubbornly clung to the symbols, as if related. As if giving meaning.

The attendant had said the symbols could be an ancient language. It was.

And she knew exactly what it meant.

Her whole body shook. This wasn't right. This wasn't the sort of thing that happened to normal people. This was the sort of thing that happened to people who got carried away in straightjackets, screaming about invisible little people and blueberry pies.

She had to get out of there.

"If you'll pardon me," a loud voice said from the back of the crowd. "Some say that a very special person will be able to read what this rock says."

Her heart stopped.

The crowd turned to the speaker. She forced herself to move and found a well-dressed Wuien man with a slick smile at the center of attention.

"I'm Dr. Crawford," he continued. "Some might write these rumors off as religious myth, but if such a person exists, I and my colleagues would be eager for a meeting. In fact, this person would become famous in the scientific community, giving us a chance to learn more about ancient languages." He held up a stack of business cards. "If you hear anything about a person who can read this rock, please contact me any time, day or night."

His smile never wavered as he made his way through the crowd, handing out the business cards.

Jaq barely noticed the people around her laughing at the absurdness of the man's request. She turned, eyes searching for the nearest exit. She had to leave, now.

A hand appeared in front of her, thrusting a business card toward her hands. Dr. Crawford.

She took the card with shaking fingers. She didn't dare ignore it and call attention to herself.

He didn't let go.

Startled, she glanced up and met his eyes.

The politician smile widened. He turned the card, showing the image of the rock on the back, the symbols highlighted. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Jaq managed to nod.

"Do call me if you hear anything," he said.

"Jaq," Helena called from the doorway. "There you are. Aren't you coming?"

"Yes!" Jaq blurted a little too quickly. She'd never been so grateful for Helena to drag her shopping.

Dr. Crawford let go of the business card, but she felt his eyes remain on her. "Thanks," she mumbled as she hurried from the room.

Jaq wandered the gift shop behind Helena, too rattled to excuse herself and explore the rest of the museum alone. Could she really be famous, like Dr. Crawford said? But the very idea, the thought of her being this 'special person' he spoke of—it was laughable. She didn't need fame; she needed a few sessions with a school counselor.

"Sorry to bother you," a man said.

She glanced back and saw a fatherly Cazael man standing a few feet away, staring at her. "I saw you by the new exhibit. The rock," he said.

She froze again. Her heart wouldn't take much more of this. Another linguist?

"My name's Patrick. Patrick Donovan." He glanced around as if concerned someone might be listening in. "I wanted to warn you. Be careful."

"What?" Her chest tightened.

"I saw you talking to Dr. Crawford. If you do know someone who can read the rock, don't call that man. He works with some people who want to find this person, and they..." He paused. "They have bad intentions."

She stared. Bad intentions? But why was he telling her this? Did he somehow know she could read it? That thought terrified her more than the unknown people searching her out.

Helena caught her arm. "Why are you so slow today? Deanna found out they have an exhibit about clothes. Can you imagine? A whole exhibit about clothes!"

Saved once again. "Sorry. I have to go," she said, all too happy to turn away from this new layer on the crazy pie.

He shoved a dog-eared business card into her hands. "I can tell you more. Just be careful."

Jaq hardly saw the rest of the museum, stumbling on numb legs behind her friend through the exhibits, out onto the light rail platform, onto the train, and back to the dorms.

"You okay?" Helena peered at Jaq as they walked into their room. "You've been quiet. I mean, quieter."

Jaq sat down on her bed. She wasn't okay, but she wasn't ready to talk about it. Besides, she didn't want to risk scaring off her only friend on the compound by revealing the insanity she'd fallen into. "I'm fine."

The curvy blonde gave her a skeptical look, but accepted it. "There's a bunch of us going down to food cart alley for dinner. You want to come?"

If Helena left for dinner, Jaq would have time to sort through the mess alone. Exactly what she needed. "No, thanks."

"You sure? It's the only chance you have to get rock-hard noodles, soggy bread, and fake meat all in the same place."

Jaq couldn't help the smile that pushed onto her lips. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

Helena shrugged, changed from her school uniform into a party-ready outfit, and breezed out the door with a promise to be in before curfew.

Once the door shut behind her roommate, Jaq pulled out the two business cards and stared at them. She flipped Dr. Crawford's over and stared at the symbols on the back. She tugged her hair. None of this was right. She wished the symbols meant nothing to her, that she could be like everyone else and marvel at the archeological mystery. But each shape had a meaning, and those meanings combined into words that she understood as clearly as common English.

Stand up and obey My commands. My warrior will wield My sword and lead you to freedom. Life is free for all who seek it.

Jaq shook her head. It didn't even make sense. Whose commands? What warrior? And what was this business about freedom? Everyone was already free. How could linguists expect to gain anything useful from this gibberish?

Her eyes fell on the dog-eared card. According to Patrick, it wasn't about linguists. It was about people who were after her.

She shivered and put Dr. Crawford's card down. She wanted to throw both cards in the trash can and pretend none of this had happened.

But if Patrick was right, she could be in real danger. She reluctantly picked his card up. Like it or not, this was happening. And if there was some danger involved in this mess, she had to know what she was up against.

* * *

Patrick Donovan's office was buried in a maze of rental office units in a downtown high-rise, but the inside was cozy and homey enough. Jaq sat on a puffy brown couch that looked like it may have had a previous owner. A coffee table in front of her held a box of tissues and a vase with flowers that had only begun to wilt.

Patrick sat in a desk chair on rollers across from her, his paper-laden desk behind him. He smiled. "Thank you for coming. I was concerned you didn't understand when I talked to you in the museum."

I didn't, Jaq thought. "I was, um, confused by what you said. But I thought that if someone might be in danger, I should find out more."

He seemed to accept that. "Of course. To understand the danger, you have to understand the history of that rock. Thousands of years ago—"

"I'm sorry," Jaq blurted. She blushed, hating to interrupt, but she didn't want to sit through a lecture. "I just wanted to know about the danger."

Patrick paused. "The danger won't make sense unless you know the history. But I'll make it brief, I promise."

Indecision battled in Jaq's mind for a moment, but she finally nodded.

"Thousands of years ago, people didn't follow all these different religions. They believed in one true God, Deunai. But most of the people wanted a deity that would play by their own rules, so they created their own religions and tried to wipe out any memory of Deunai."

She fought to hide her cringe. A religious nut. Figures. She'd never been interested in religion, finding the local temples to be a bunch of superstitious nonsense. Destroy a piece of technology and be blessed by nature gods. Buy a blessed vial of river water for good fortune from the water god. Might as well carry a rabbit's foot around your neck.

Not only that, but what he was saying was wrong. Her history books said that the original nomadic tribes engaged in localized nature worship.

He continued, oblivious to her distaste for the topic. "But one racial group preserved the writings about Deunai and continued following Him. The other groups persecuted them for this, a persecution that continues even today, forcing the only remaining people from the one group to hide in remote villages and other secluded places. The group was the Onve." He paused and stared at her as if waiting.

Great. Not just a religious nut, but a conspiracy theorist, too. Religious persecution was a thing of the past. If it was still going on today, it'd be in the news. And not only did he want to talk about some crazy, made-up religion, but now there was also a crazy, made-up race? This was ridiculous. She was wasting her time here. "I really just wanted to hear about the danger."

"Of course. An ancient Onve prophecy states that Deunai will select a warrior from their people to lead them. This warrior, according to the writings from around that time, will destroy all enemies of Deunai and the Onve."

He looked her straight in the eye. "The prophecy says that Deunai wrote a message on a rock and hid it deep beneath the earth. It states that the rock will be found during the lifetime of the warrior. And there will be a special Onve girl, the only girl born into a certain village, who will lead the Onve to the warrior. But those people who persecute the Onve don't want to see that warrior rise, obviously, because they're the ones who the warrior is coming to destroy. They want to find the warrior—or the girl, maybe both—and kill them before the warrior can act."

The rock had talked about a warrior. Jaq's breath caught on a spike of fear, but she forced it back down. Patrick was wrong. None of this could possibly be true. She shook her head, then caught herself. "Sorry. I just... I was raised in a typical Cazael family. We've never had much interest in religion."

He leaned back. "You were adopted, right?"

The fear spike returned. "What?"

He put his hands up. "It's okay. I know you aren't a Cazael."

Her heart drummed against her ribs in a staccato snare. Childhood memories once again flitted through her mind. "I look like a Cazael."

"Yes, you do. Especially if compared only to Davelas, Gavuuns, and Wuiens. But compared to an Onve..." He shook his head, smiling. "You're no Cazael."

The fear gave way to outrage. Not only did he want to make up crazy stories about religions that never existed, races that never existed, and religious persecution that wasn't happening, but now he wanted her to believe she was part of his deluded fantasy. That she was a member of his made-up race.

She stood up so fast that she almost upset the vase on the table. "I'm sorry. I just remembered I have a..." She strode to the door, unable to come up with a plausible lie on the spot. "I have to go."

He stood, looking startled. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. But please, just be careful and—"

Jaq stepped out the door and shut it behind her before he could finish his sentence. She didn't slow down until she was out of the building, afraid he might try to follow her. The guy was a special kind of head case, that was for sure. She couldn't believe she'd been so foolish as to meet with him.

A siren wailed behind her. She spun to see several Enforcers on cycles shooting down the street toward her.

Her legs threatened to give out. Patrick had been right. Someone was after her, and now they'd found her, and—

The Enforcers shot past her.

She almost dropped to the sidewalk. They weren't after her.

One slowed, turned around, and came back to stop beside her. She froze.

"ID." He held out a hand.

It took a moment for her brain to kick into gear. She dug out her ID and handed it over with trembling fingers.

He studied the card for a minute, then swiped it through his scanner. "Compound student, huh? What are you doing so far from the campus?"

It took two tries before she could get her voice to work. "I was... meeting someone."

"And is there a reason you didn't take your position?"

She fought the urge to tug on her hair. Stupid! She'd been so terrified at the sight of the Enforcers that she'd failed to stand in the correct position, with her back to them and hands on the wall until they passed. "I—I'm sorry, sir."

He eyed her a moment longer, then handed her ID back. "You keep your nose clean?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's what your record says. I won't put a mark on the official records, but don't let it happen again. You won't get another freebie. Got it?"

Relief flooded her system. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

He gave her a salute, revved his cycle, and took off.

Jaq stumbled backwards until she found solid wall behind her to support her. This was ridiculous. She'd let a complete stranger get her so worked up that she'd forgotten basic laws she'd known and followed since childhood.

She stuffed her ID back in her pocket, and her fingers brushed the two business cards. She pulled them out, tore Patrick Donovan's in half, crumpled both halves, and threw them in the garbage.

Dr. Crawford's card remained in her hand. All she wanted was some answers, to understand what was happening to her. Patrick had been no help, but Dr. Crawford was a scientist. Logical. Rational.

And a logical, rational approach was exactly what she needed.

* * *

Dr. Crawford's huge corner office in the massive downtown building practically smelled of money. The furniture was stylistically modern and looked brand new. The couch Jaq sat on was stiff and uncomfortable.

The linguist ignored her a minute longer, absorbed in the work in front of him with a self-important look on his face, before he finally set the papers aside and looked up. "Sorry to keep you waiting. How can I help you?"

Jaq paused, unsure how to begin. "I saw you at the museum. Um, by the exhibit of the rock with the writing—"

"You have a friend who can read the rock?" he interrupted, grabbing a fresh piece of paper.

Caught off-guard, she faltered for words. But she realized she liked that idea. After what happened with Patrick, she'd rather keep a safe buffer around the truth than have people think she was some special 'prophecy girl.' "Yeah."

"What's his name?" He held his pen poised to write.

His? Jaq decided to go with it. "He didn't want me to tell anyone. Not until he knows more."

Dr. Crawford stared at her with slightly narrowed eyes, the same way he'd looked at her in the museum. Her skin crawled. Several seconds passed before he spoke again. "Of course. I'm certain this must be odd for your friend."

Understatement of the year. She nodded.

"There isn't much more to say than what I said in the museum. I and my colleagues would pay your friend generously for his translation. He could travel the world, meeting the top minds of the scientific community—all at no cost to himself, of course—if he so chose."

"And what if he doesn't want all that?" She tugged her hair. "What if he just wants things to go back to normal?"

His face dipped into a frown, but then the politician smile returned. "Why don't you give me his name, and I'll talk to him about that. I'm sure I can put any of his concerns at ease."

Jaq felt a slight chill. Her skin crawled again. Something lurked behind his politician smile. Something that reminded her of Patrick's deluded ramblings. The warnings of danger.

She stood. "I'm sorry, but I promised I wouldn't." The lie came out too weak, and she pressed forward to try to cover it. "I'll talk to him about it. He'll give you a call later."

"This could be your friend's chance to be rich and famous. You're keeping him from a huge opportunity."

"I'm sure he'll call you." She started edging toward the door.

"A finder's fee, then." The slick smile widened. He pulled out a checkbook and started scribbling. "I never mentioned the reward for information in the museum because I didn't want to wade through a bunch of greedy liars, but I can tell you're telling the truth. I always reward those who help me."

She couldn't see the exact figure on the check from where she stood, but she could see the zeroes. Lots of zeroes. More zeroes than she'd seen in her life. Her throat turned dry.

But her skin jumped from crawling to tap-dancing. Something was very, very wrong here. "I'm sorry. I have to leave." Before the zeroes could coax her into revealing anything she shouldn't, she spun and ran from the room.

* * *

Jaq flew upright in bed, gasping for air. She groaned and flopped back on her pillow. Stupid nightmare.

A commotion in the hall caught her attention before she could go back to sleep. Someone shouted.

"What's going on?" Helena asked sleepily, propped up on her elbows with one eye still shut.

"I don't know." Jaq climbed out of bed and pulled on her sweatpants to go with the t-shirt she'd worn to bed. A bit slovenly, but decent enough for a quick peek out into the hallway.

She hadn't made it halfway to the door when it flew open. Enforcers poured into the room. Helena screamed and cowered, her hands in the air.

One shone a bright flashlight in Jaq's face. "Target confirmed."

She stumbled half a step back. Her brain shorted out, unable to comprehend what was happening around her. This had to be a dream. Another nightmare.

One of the men shoved a gun into her back. "Move!"

Jaq smelled the musky, earthy smell of men crowded in a small area. She felt the hard metal of the gun in her back.

Her body trembled again. It was real. Not a dream. Real. Terror shot through her like a lightning bolt. Her chest tightened until she couldn't breathe at all.

The world swirled around her and faded to nothing.

Chapter 3

Cold seeped through Jaq's t-shirt and sweatpants. She shivered and pulled herself into a ball, groping around with one hand for her covers. She must have kicked them off in her sleep. Her bed felt strangely hard. Maybe she'd fallen asleep on one of the benches outside the library again. But why was she outside in her pajamas?

Jaq stretched and winced at the accompanying pain. After some effort, she opened her eyes and saw nothing around her but cold, bare metal.

She bolted upright. Pain rocked her head, sending the room into a brief spin. She clenched her eyes tight, forcing herself to remain still until the dizziness passed. Then she cautiously opened them once more.

The room was small, almost claustrophobically so. There were no windows, only a door with a small grate in it. A shutter on the other side was closed, preventing her from seeing what was on the other side. The only thing between her and the floor was a threadbare blanket.

Which explained some of the soreness. She winced as another muscle proclaimed its discomfort. Her head settled into a dull throb. She'd probably hit it when she fainted.

Her eyes widened as memories flooded back. Enforcers. She'd been arrested.

Jaq scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

No response.

She pounded on the door. "Please, is anyone out there? Let me out!"

Still no answer.

Jaq slumped against the wall behind her and slid down to the floor. The walls seemed to bend inward toward her. She clenched her teeth, shutting her eyes as tightly as possible. It was all in her head. The walls were not moving. There were people out there. She was not alone.

"I'm not alone," she repeated out loud, but her words rang hollow in the metal room. She covered her ears. How long before the people came for her? Would she have to sit in this room for hours? Days?

She jumped up and pounded on the door again. "Let me out! Let me out of here!"

The lock clicked, startling her. She stepped back as the door swung inward.

Two Enforcers stood outside the door in an equally bare hallway. "Come with us, Ms. Vega."

Her body shook again. She didn't want to go anywhere with Enforcers. She wanted to be back in the compound. Safe.

She took a deep breath, knowing that she had no choice. She stepped out of the cell.

The men took up positions on either side of her and marched her down the hallway. Doors passed on either side. Jaq couldn't help but wonder who might be locked behind those doors, if they were really criminals or if they were like her, snatched away in the middle of the night with no explanation.

They finally slowed at the end of the hall. One of the Enforcers stepped forward and opened the last door, the only one without a viewing grate.

The room was larger than her cell. A metal table stood in the middle, and a handsome Cazael man in a business suit sat on the far side of it. A metal chair was bolted to the floor opposite him.

"Hello, Ms. Vega. Please, have a seat," the man said, smiling pleasantly.

The Enforcers pushed her into the chair, closed the door, and stood on either side of it.

"My name is Agent Sloan," the man continued, still smiling. "Don't worry. You don't have to be here for long."

Jaq felt the first pangs of self-consciousness. She tugged at the bottom of her pajama top and folded her arms over her chest. They'd probably chosen a handsome man to question her so she'd be distracted. It annoyed her how well it worked.

Agent Sloan slid a paper across the table toward her. "Ms. Vega, do you recognize this?"

Printed neatly in the middle of the page was the inscription from the rock.

Jaq's heart jerked toward her throat. This was about the rock. Patrick had been right about one thing, that Dr. Crawford was dangerous. He'd been so pushy about her telling him the name of her 'friend.' And with all the money he obviously had, she was sure it wouldn't take more than a phone call for him to get Enforcers at his beck and call.

"Ms. Vega?"

Jaq jumped, startled. She glanced up at Agent Sloan, who looked amused. She blushed. "It looks like a bunch of symbols."

"So you've never seen it before?"

They would know that she'd been to the museum. "Isn't this from that weird rock at the museum?" She kept her gaze on the paper, afraid her eyes would tell him everything.

"That's right." He even sounded amused now. "What else do you know about it?"

Jaq squirmed. "They say it's some sort of old language. And I heard that some linguists want to find someone who can..." Her voice caught. "Um, they think someone will be able to read it."

Agent Sloan's smile widened. "Someone you know. A friend of yours."

That proved it. Dr. Crawford had her arrested so he could find the person who can read the rock. Jaq bit back a few choice phrases. "I haven't heard any of my friends say that."

Now the agent chuckled. "But you do know someone who can read it."

A strange feeling bubbled up inside of Jaq. Indignation. Anger. Power.

"What are the charges against me?" she demanded.

"What?" Agent Sloan asked, taken aback.

Jaq felt just as taken aback as he was. She'd never spoken defiantly to anyone in authority before. But right then, she was too angry to care. "What are the charges against me? Why am I being held prisoner?"

Agent Sloan glanced at the Enforcers behind him, then chuckled as he turned back to her. "We're just gathering information, Ms. Vega. Tell us what we want to know, and you can go home."

"Agent Sloan, your Enforcers broke into my dorm room. They terrorized me and my friend. They held me at gunpoint, which scared me so badly that I fainted. They locked me up in a tiny little cell, then dragged me down here. And you're here, giving me that fancy little smile as if everything's just fine, wanting me to tell you things when you won't even tell me why I've been arrested. I want to know the charges against me, and I want to know right now!"

Agent Sloan stared at her for a long time, then cleared his throat. "So... you were frightened when the Enforcers came to your dorm, but you aren't frightened now?"

"I'm terrified," Jaq answered honestly. "I'm just too mad to show it."

Agent Sloan laughed. "Like I said, if you tell us what we want to know, then you'll be free to leave."

She leaned back and folded her arms. An idea took root in her mind. Maybe it was time for the truth to work on her side. "I don't have a friend who can read the rock. I misled Dr. Crawford because I was curious about the whole thing."

"Dr. who?"

Jaq paused as doubts crept in. "Dr. Crawford. He's the one who told you guys to grab me, right? To get a name out of me? Well, I misled him. I don't actually have a friend who can read the rock."

"I don't know any Dr. Crawford," Agent Sloan said. "But I know that you do, in fact, have a friend who can read the rock. So don't be difficult. I want to help you leave as soon as possible. But I can't let you go until you give me the name of your friend."

He had to be lying. Dr. Crawford was the only one who thought she had this hypothetical friend. "I said, I don't have a friend who can read the rock."

Agent Sloan sighed and glanced past her to the two Enforcers by the door. "It looks like she may need to visit Agent Clark."

Jaq knew he was baiting her, but couldn't resist her own curiosity. "Who's Agent Clark?"

"He's a specialist. He motivates people to give us what we need."

Jaq blinked, almost too shocked to speak. "You're threatening me?"

Agent Sloan laughed. "I wouldn't call it that. But I will tell you that most people don't find him particularly fun to be around. You won't have to see him, though, if you tell me your friend's name."

Jaq slowly exhaled and closed her eyes. "Sierra. Sierra is the person who can read the rock." Her own answer surprised her. What had brought the little girl from her nightmares to mind?

Agent Sloan snorted. "Nice try."

"What?" Jaq demanded. Why hadn't he gone for it? "You asked for my friend's name, and that's it. Sierra."

"I want the name of your friend who can read the rock."

"And what makes you so sure it isn't Sierra?"

"You and I both know that your friend is a man. I need to know his name. Now."

Of course. She'd played along when Dr. Crawford referred to the 'friend' as a guy. He'd have told the Enforcers they were looking for a man's name. Frustration boiled inside her. "Your information is wrong," she spat. "It's Sierra. She's the one you want. Can I go now?"

Agent Sloan eyed her for a long moment, then looked back at the Enforcers again. "Take her back to her cell."

Jaq jumped to her feet. "You said I could go if I gave you my friend's name!"

"We have to confirm it first," he replied, unfazed by her outburst. "If you're telling the truth, then you'll be out of here before long."

The Enforcers grabbed Jaq's arms, pulling her away from the table.

Jaq twisted, trying to slip free, but the Enforcers continued out the door, her arms locked in their grasp. She threw a glare over her shoulder. "Slimeball!"

Agent Sloan chuckled and waved goodbye.

* * *

Jaq was startled by the sound of the door's lock being opened. She was pretty sure that at least an hour had passed, though it was hard to gauge with no way to track time. The door slid open, and two Enforcers stared down at her. "Let's go, Ms. Vega."

She obediently got up. "I get to go home now?"

"Let's go, Ms. Vega," the Enforcer repeated.

This time Jaq was taken to a different room that had a large metal table and one small metal chair. The Enforcers deposited her in the chair and left.

She sighed and rubbed her face. Where had she found the courage to speak to the Enforcer agent like that? It sure didn't seem like her, but she felt good about it anyway. Deep inside she knew that she had done the right thing by not letting the Enforcers know that she could read the rock.

A mumbling sound came from behind her. She twisted, but the sound came from the other side of the closed door. It sounded like someone was talking to someone else, but she could only hear one of them.

The voice rose abruptly. "Yes, I—no, of course not, and—YES, Elias, I have done this before. I know what I'm doing. You'll get what you need." Then more mumbling.

The door swung open. A man walked in, dropping a mobile phone into his pocket as he entered. He took a deep breath and smiled at her as if trying to change gears from his previous irritation. "Hello," he said. "How are you this morning?"

"As well as someone can be when they've been abducted and held against their will," she replied as two Enforcers followed him in and took up their posts just inside the door.

The man chuckled and relaxed. "Yes, Agent Sloan told me you were a bit saucy. I'm Agent Clark. I have a few questions for you."

Jaq stared at him. "Agent Sloan lied to me."

"How's that?" Agent Clark asked as he leaned against the edge of the table.

"He said that if I told him the name of my friend who could read the rock, then I could go."

"That's right. But you didn't tell the truth. You have no friend named Sierra."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

He smiled. "We're the Enforcers. We know everything. Now, I'm not a bad guy. In fact, I'm rather nice. So I'm going to give you one more chance to tell us the truth. Who can read what's written on the rock?"

Jaq felt a shiver pass through her body, but her determination held strong. "The only name I can give you is Sierra."

Straightening, Agent Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry I have to do this."

The Enforcers strode forward and grabbed her arms. "Hey!" she shouted as they pulled her from her seat. "Hey! Let me go!" She struggled as they picked her up and set her on the table, pinning to the surface. Cuffs snapped shut over her wrists and ankles, fastening her securely. "Let me go! You can't do this!"

Agent Clark scribbled something on a clipboard and set it aside with an almost bored look on his face. "Last chance. Tell me the name of your friend."

"I told you! Sierra!"

He sighed. "Still being difficult." He walked slowly around to her left side, toying with a small, lipstick-shaped object. "Ever seen one of these before?"

She didn't answer.

"It's called an RXV. It doesn't stand for anything fancy; that's just a model code." He pressed a button on the top, and the tiny device beeped. "I'm sure you're familiar with basic body functioning—how nerve endings send impulses to the brain, and we interpret that as felt sensations? That's how the RXV operates. When the substance within it is released, it spreads out a certain distance, finding every nerve ending it can and sending certain unpleasant impulses to the brain." His fingers lightly brushed against Jaq's bare arm.

She gasped and cringed away from his touch. She couldn't take her eyes off the device in his hand, couldn't get a full breath of air to come. "Please don't," she managed to whisper.

He fiddled with the RXV. "I don't have to, you know. I could just turn this back off and put it away."

"Please..." She shrank away from him.

"Tell me your friend's name."

Her body trembled. Still, she pressed her lips tightly together and shook her head no.

Agent Clark shrugged. "Have it your way." He pressed the end of the RXV against Jaq's arm.

She jerked away, her movement restricted by the cuff on her wrist, but felt only a cold sensation. "It isn't—"

A fiery-hot burst of pain exploded on her arm. She screamed, struggling to break free, to beat the flames out, but then suddenly it was cold again, but colder now, like thousands of icicles piercing her arm. It spread upward toward her shoulder and down toward her hand, wrapping its way around her arm as it went. A shock like lightning shot across her skin, forcing her muscles to twitch madly. She cried out again, writhing, desperate for some relief and finding none. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision.

"I know," Agent Clark said. His voice sounded sympathetic, almost kind. "I can make it stop, though." He waved the RXV in front of her face, showing a second button on its side. "There's a deactivating agent in here. If I release it over the affected area, the substance shuts down. It all stops."

He leaned closer. "Tell me his name."

"Please," Jaq whimpered. Her arm burst into flames again, wrenching another scream from her. White spots flashed in front of her eyes. "Please, just let me go."

"Tell me what it says."

Jaq clenched her eyes shut and didn't answer.

Agent Clark pushed the left leg of her sweatpants up and lowered the RXV.

"No!" Jaq screamed, struggling. Knives cut into her arm, tearing through flesh, muscle, and bone. "NO!"

"Tell me!"

Everything in her screamed to just do it, to just tell him what he wanted to know. But something stronger than herself kept her mouth shut.

"Very well." He pressed the device against her leg.

She hardly noticed the initial coolness of the substance for the pain in her arm. But all too soon, her leg was being twisted, torn into bits by giant, unseen hands. Scream after scream tore from her until she had no voice left. Her body trembled violently, protesting to the assault on her limbs.

"This doesn't have to go on," Agent Clark murmured, standing by her right arm. "It can stop now. I can make the pain go away."

Jaq gasped for air, fought to keep her silence. She couldn't. If she stayed silent, her right arm was next. She couldn't take any more. A new burst of fire in both her arm and leg in unison forced a hoarse, strangled cry from her throat.

"Tell me," Agent Clark whispered.

She had to. She had no choice. Her body twitched weakly, having lost the strength to fight any further. More tears slipped down her cheeks. Her lips parted. She had to tell.

Chapter 4

Her voice came out as little more than a rasp. "I..."

A breeze caressed her face, cooling the fresh tears. A man stood on her left side, smiling down at her. He had the kindest, gentlest face Jaq had ever seen. He lightly brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

The pain disappeared.

Her arm and leg still tingled, as if the substance was still there, still trying its best to send signals of agony through her nerves, but it was like the connection had been cut off. The pain was completely gone.

A sob rose in Jaq's throat. The man slid a hand into hers, and she clutched it desperately. His other hand tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

She felt her strength returning. Warmth bubbled up through her body, coupled with relief. She looked up at the man and felt the love emanating from him. He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back, the pain all but forgotten.

"What?" Agent Clark demanded. "Why are you smiling?"

Jaq's smile broadened. There was nothing Agent Clark could do to her now. Everything felt right, just the way it should be.

Agent Clark leaned closer again. He was saying something, but Jaq's focus remained fixed on the new man.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, her voice still rough.

He nodded, his eyes full of compassion and love.

"Thank you." She hardly even noticed the tingle on her arm and leg anymore.

"You really want another shot of this?" Agent Clark demanded. His voice sounded anxious.

Jaq laughed. He was worried because she'd stopped being scared.

"You tell me that name!" he thundered.

Jaq never took her eyes off the man at her side. "I don't have a friend who can read the rock," she declared, her voice firm and confident.

Agent Clark snarled in frustration and slammed the RXV into her right arm.

She braced herself for the inevitable pain, but it never came. It just tingled again, like the other two limbs. A laugh bubbled up through her aching throat, seeming to soothe the overstrained muscles as it went.

"Shut up!" Agent Clark thundered. "Shut up!" He shoved the device at her face, stopping only inches from her skin. "I'll do it! Don't think I won't!"

The door flew open with a bang. "What's going on in here?"

Agent Clark jumped back, startled.

Jaq tilted her head to see. The kind man smiled at her, then stepped back out of the way, though he kept a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Another man in Agent uniform, tall and trim, stood just inside the doorway, frowning at them. "Who is this? What's the case number?"

"You're interrupting a session, Agent Ackerson," Agent Clark snapped, stepping back toward Jaq.

Agent Ackerson's gaze shifted from Clark to Jaq, and his eyes narrowed. He opened a panel on the wall, grabbed something, and strode to Jaq's side.

She saw the RXV in his hand and clenched her fingers. They'd sent someone else to torture her? She hoped that whatever the kind man had done to keep it from hurting would affect this RXV, too.

Agent Ackerson hovered the device over her chest.

She braced herself.

A blast of cold, electrified air washed over her body, like the last grasp of pins and needles. All the tingling in her limbs stopped.

"How dare you?" Agent Clark shouted. His face was red. "She was about to crack!"

Agent Ackerson looked equally furious. "Who authorized this? I checked the log. The authorization code is invalid." His voice turned cold. "You've got a lot to answer for, and I suggest you start explaining. Now."

Hope rushed through Jaq. The new Agent was there to help her, to get her out of there.

Agent Clark paused, then turned to the two Enforcers at the door. "Grab him!"

Agent Ackerson looked briefly shocked, then grabbed at a device on his side. "Backup to room 43B, now!" he yelled before the Enforcers reached him. He spun away from them, slapping a control on the side of the table as he went.

The restraints slid open.

It took a moment for Jaq's realization of freedom to translate into action. She scrambled off the table and bolted for the door.

One of the Enforcers broke off the pursuit of Ackerson and lunged at her. She shrieked and dodged backwards. Her feet tangled with each other, and she hit the floor hard. The Enforcer grabbed her arm and yanked her back up, reaching for her other arm.

"Help!" she screamed. "Let me go!" She flailed at him, struggled to get away. Her palm slapped flat against his nose, and he let out a grunt of pain. His grip on her arm loosened. She twisted free and ran away from him, back toward the table.

Agent Ackerson had managed to take the other Enforcer out of the fight, but now he was occupied with Agent Clark. Clark caught the taller man by the arm and twisted him around into a painful lock, but Ackerson got a grip on Clark and sent him flying. Clark's RXV clattered across the floor, coming to a stop only a couple feet from Jaq.

She darted forward and grabbed it, spinning to face the Enforcer. Her arms shook with terror as he lumbered closer. To her relief, he slowed down at the sight of the device in her hand. "Stay back!" she shouted. Her voice was shrill.

A thump and groan came from behind her. She glanced back to see Agent Ackerson sprawled out on the ground. Panic dug into her chest, constricting her lungs.

"Grab her!" Agent Clark shouted.

She spun back to face the Enforcer. Her arms shook even more, but she kept the RXV pointed at him. "Stay back!" she shrieked again.

Another sound came from behind her. She twirled, still holding the RXV in front of her. Agent Clark was right behind her, his hands extended to grab her. She screamed, but her body froze in terror, refusing to obey or do anything but tighten up in panic.

Agent Clark grabbed at her, but then froze. A shiny gel oozed across his face. He stumbled backwards, then began screaming, tearing violently at his face.

Jaq gasped, horrified at what she'd done. The RXV clattered to the floor.

The Enforcer grabbed her arm, digging his fingers in painfully. "You little—"

Before he could finish, the door flew open and several more Enforcers and Agents charged in.

Agent Ackerson struggled back to his feet. "Seize him!" he ordered, pointing at the Enforcer holding Jaq.

The Enforcer paused for only a moment, then reluctantly released Jaq and put his hands on the wall in surrender.

"What about him?" one of the Agents asked, pointing. Agent Clark writhed on the floor, clawing at his face.

Agent Ackerson limped over, scowled in disgust, then almost reluctantly grabbed the RXV and deactivated the substance. "Get them both out of here." He straightened, a grim look on his face. "Do whatever it takes to find out what they were doing, why, who ordered it—everything. I expect a full inquisition into this matter."

"Yes, sir," the Agent replied before hauling Agent Clark to his feet and dragging him out the door.

Jaq struggled to take a deep breath. Her chest still felt tight, squeezing against her lungs. She looked around for the kind man. She'd feel calmer, better, with his hand on her shoulder again.

He was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you hurt?" Agent Ackerson asked. He pushed the chair closer to her. "Please, sit down."

She instinctively stumbled backwards, away from him.

He looked startled, then held up his hands. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." He glanced back at the door. "Let's go out into the main hall, if you don't mind."

Her chest started to relax at that. They'd be out of that room, around people. Away from tables and restraints and RXVs. Her instincts screamed to run for the door, but she forced herself to keep it at a semi-dignified speedwalk. As dignified as she could be, that is, while still in her pajamas, her bare feet slapping the floor.

Agent Ackerson continued talking as he followed her out into the hall. "I want you to understand that what Agent Clark was doing was a violation of Enforcer regulations. He had no authority to arrest you, much less question you or use persuasion techniques. This way." He motioned toward a larger hallway that split off to the right.

Jaq peeked around the corner before following him. There were even more people bustling through the larger hallway. Feeling a little better, she followed, tugging self-consciously at her T-shirt. "So what do you want from me?"

He looked surprised. "I don't want anything from you. Like I said, those men were operating outside of Enforcer authority. They had no right to do what they did."

"Like kidnapping me out of my dorm room?" Jaq folded her arms, resentment and anger setting her on edge. "Torturing me?"

"You have every right to be angry. What they did was reprehensible. And I assure you, I will personally see to it that we track down every person involved and bring them to justice for what they did. We take this sort of thing very seriously around here. We'll find out who was behind it and make sure it never happens again."

"Right, because it's fine that they did all this to me, just so it doesn't happen to anyone else!"

He slowed down and faced her. "I'm sorry for what they did to you. If I had known what was happening, I would've had their heads on a stake before they could put one hand on you."

The sincerity in his eyes soothed her anger, though the resentment stubbornly lingered. She turned and resumed walking down the hallway. "Agent Sloan."

"What?"

"There was another one who questioned me. Agent Sloan. And there were a couple other Enforcers, but I don't know their names." She hesitated. "I don't know for sure, but I think a man named Dr. Crawford might be involved. I think he asked them to arrest me and question me."

"Why?"

"He thinks I know something." She quickly added, "But I don't."

Agent Ackerson nodded. "Anything else? We have ways to track down and locate anyone who might have been involved, but any information you can give us helps the process go faster."

She shook her head.

"That's fine. You did very well. Thank you for telling me that. And I promise, Agent Clark and Agent Sloan, as well as anyone else involved, will never see light of day again. I personally guarantee it."

They came to the end of the hallway, which opened up into the wide front lobby. People milled around, quietly talking to each other as they waited for a turn to speak with the receptionist at the front desk. Rows of vinyl chairs provided seating, with the occasional coffee table interrupting the pattern.

Agent Ackerson gestured toward one of the rows. "Have a seat. Would you like some coffee? Water?"

Jaq remained standing. She folded her arms. "I just want to go home."

"We want to make restitution for what happened to you. We have a fine medical staff here to tend to your injuries, and a generous amount will be transferred to your personal account as restitution for the psychological damage."

"I don't want it. I just want to go home."

The Agent sighed, but he seemed more concerned than impatient. "I know that Agent Clark used an RXV on you, with enough applications to cause partial nerve damage. I'm sure you're still feeling some of those effects now. We just want to correct the damage that was caused."

"I feel fine," she insisted. She looked back down the hallway. "Can I talk to the other man?" The kind man would understand. He'd let her go home.

He frowned. "Other man?"

"When you came in, he was standing beside me, holding my hand. I don't know where he went after that, but you must have seen him."

Agent Ackerson was silent for a long moment. "When I came in, the only people with you were Agent Clark and the two Enforcers."

"No, there was another man there!" Frustrated, Jaq searched for a way to describe him, but physical characteristics escaped her. All she remembered was the kindness, the love in his eyes. The comfort and release from pain at his touch.

"Maybe we should head over to the medical center now."

He thought she was crazy. Jaq tugged her hair, at a loss for how to convince him. "I just want to go home. Please."

He looked off toward another hallway leading away from the lobby, then dug into his pocket and produced a thin, plastic card with his name, phone number, and a lengthy account number printed on the front. "Take this. Go to your doctor back at the compound, or the local hospital, or anywhere—just get yourself checked out. Ask for the finest treatment, show this card, and tell them it's an Enforcer Prime Issue. They'll take care of you, and there won't be any charge. Deal?"

Jaq took the card. She nodded.

"I'll call a car around to take you back to your compound. You can expect the restitution I mentioned to clear your account by tomorrow morning. And if you ever need anything—ANYTHING—just give me a call." He paused. "Let me grab you a coat and some shoes. I'll be right back."

She watched as he strode off into a side room down the main hallway, then turned and scurried for the door as fast as she could go. Once outside, she bolted and didn't slow down until she reached the light rail station half a block away.

As she approached the counter, she realized her mistake. All of her things were back at the compound. She didn't have her ID, her student card, or any money for a ticket. They probably wouldn't even let her on the train with no shoes. She'd have to call Helena to come get her.

She shivered in the cool morning air. It'd take Helena at least an hour to get there. There had to be another option.

"Miss?" The man behind the ticket counter leaned forward, staring at her. "Are you all right?"

An idea formed. She held her head high and approached, holding out Agent Ackerson's card. She wished her arm would stop shaking so much. "It's an Enforcer Prime Issue. I need on the next train to the compound."

The man studied the card.

Jaq tried to keep her confident posture, but it was wilting fast. He'd see right through her. He'd probably call Agent Ackerson to come get her, and she'd be back where she started.

"Right, then. Here you are," the man said, handing her a ticket.

It was a fight not to let her relief show. "Thank you." She accepted the ticket and walked to the platform.

"Miss!"

She froze.

The man stepped out of the kiosk and walked toward her, holding out a coat. "It's from the lost and found. It's been there for a few months now, no claim, so I was going to take it home myself. But looks like you could use it more."

Jaq accepted the garment with relief. "Thank you," she said again. "That's very kind."

"Wish I had some shoes, too, but we don't get a lot of those through the lost and found." He glanced back. "I suppose we could work something up with cardboard?"

"That's all right. I'll be fine." She waved to him and hurried to board her train.

* * *

It was late morning by the time Jaq got back to her room. She hurried through the door, never so relieved to be home.

"Jaq!" Helena gasped and stared at her with enormous eyes.

Jaq paused, surprised. "Why aren't you in class?"

"What?" Helena dropped onto her bed, pressing a hand over her heart. "I thought you were gone! I mean, I didn't know—I didn't think you were coming back! But you're here. You're really here! And..." She frowned. "And you're worried about class?"

Jaq tugged her suitcase down from the top shelf of the closet. "Nice to see you, too, Helena."

Helena watched with large eyes as Jaq changed into jeans, stuffed her ID in her pocket, and packed up a few essentials. "Did you escape?"

"No. They let me go." She tucked Agent Ackerson's card into her pants pocket. Part of her wanted to throw it away, but something made her feel like it would be better to keep it close at hand, at least until this mess was straightened out. Just in case.

"What did they do to you? I was so scared! What did they want?"

Jaq closed the suitcase. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about what had happened. Not until she'd had some time to sort it out for herself. "Don't worry about it, Helena. I'm going to go home for a while. I just need some time to, um, to recover."

"Of course," Helena said, the stunned expression still on her face as Jaq slid on a pair of shoes, grabbed her things, and left.

Chapter 5

The light rail only took Jaq as far as Carvon's boundary, where the busy city melted away into residential suburbs. Construction was underway to extend the light rail's reach, but until it was complete, she was stuck with the less efficient public bus system. It involved various transfers and a few waits at stations, but at least the roads in the residential sector had all been updated with electric tracks, a single rail in the middle of the road that powered the vehicles traveling over it. The system allowed for higher speeds and cheaper travel than the archaic gas vehicle systems other cities still relied on.

The long trip gave her time to think.

The nightmare had to be connected to all these crazy events. She'd never found any evidence of a village like the one in her dream, but maybe it was one of those remove villages Patrick claimed the Onve were hiding in. The prophecy he talked about said the girl who would lead the Onve to a warrior would be the only girl born to a certain village. In her dream, Sierra was the only girl in the village.

But why would any of this matter to her? She wasn't an Onve.

The Onve aren't even real, she reminded herself. Patrick made them up.

But the thought kept pushing at her, along with the other disturbing thought that had haunted her since the nightmares began.

She was Sierra.

Jaq tugged her hair and closed her eyes. No. That wasn't possible. This was all a sleep-deprived delusion. All in her head.

"It's all in my head," she whispered. It was amazing how much better she felt at hearing those words. It had to be true, it just had to.

There was an easy way to confirm it, she realized. Her parents and Ama had been dismissive when a younger Jaq asked about her history, and she'd let it go then. But she'd go to Ama, push for answers. Ama would tell her who her birth parents were. They were probably librarians. Or dentists. Something plain, ordinary, and boring, just like her.

That would prove she couldn't be this Sierra person—couldn't be this girl of prophecy. She would go back to her classes, graduate, find a job, and live out the rest of her life in blissful obscurity.

It was past dark by the time Jaq got off the last bus a block away from her childhood home. She hauled her suitcase along the sidewalk, stepping around a few chalk drawings on the concrete as she went. She smiled and walked a bit faster when she saw the bright yellow house on the corner, the home she'd grown up in. The title had transferred to her name when her parents passed away, but since she was still under twenty-one and technically too young to own property, Ama had moved in to take care of the place for her.

Jaq noted that her grandmother had only made a few small changes. The rose bushes on either side of the door were certainly an improvement, as was the neat hedge bordering the lawn. The kitty cat door knocker, on the other hand, was something Jaq could live without.

The door swung open, and the cheesy knocker was replaced by her ama's plump frame. The older woman's face lit up at the sight of her granddaughter. "Jaq! I didn't know break was this week."

Jaq hugged her and kissed her cheek. "It isn't. Can we talk inside?"

"Of course," she nodded, stepping aside to let Jaq in. They walked to the kitchen together, Ama fussing about how skinny Jaq was.

Once they reached the kitchen, Jaq sat down at the table while Ama poured mugs of tea for both of them. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

"Who were my parents?"

Ama gave her a funny look and chuckled. "Why, Maria and Antonio Vega, of course. What a silly question!"

"No, I mean my other parents. Before."

Ama nearly dropped the tea. She cleared her throat as she recovered. "May I ask what brought that up?"

"Mom and Dad adopted me when I was seven. A person should be able to remember things from before that age, but I can't remember a thing about my family before the adoption. I want to know where I came from."

Ama sighed and sat down, putting one of the mugs in front of Jaq. "I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about your birth parents. It was all set up through an agency—they worked with your parents and us separately, and then one of their agents brought you to us. We never met your family or knew anything about them." She took a sip of tea. "But why are you asking me this? You asked before, you know, when you were younger. We told you the same thing then, and you seemed satisfied enough."

"But you must have something, right? We could call the agency, and they could contact my birth parents, or at least tell us who they were."

"The agency isn't around anymore. I read something a while back about it closing." Ama took another sip. "But even if they were still open, the adoption was strictly anonymous. I don't think the law would let them tell you anything."

Frustration tensed Jaq's muscles. She closed her eyes and tugged at her hair. "Can't we just look them up? Maybe someone's still there answering phones. Or we could find someone who used to work there."

Her grandmother reached across the table and took her hand. "What's the matter, little darling?"

"I—it's nothing, just..." Tears stung her eyes. "I've had a really bad week."

"You know us Vega women always ride high through the tough times." Ama squeezed her hand. "You'll make it through."

It took a moment longer for Jaq to collect herself. She sipped the hot tea and let herself be enveloped by the scent and flavor of her childhood. Drawing in a deep breath, she set the mug down. "Right. Thank you." She squared her shoulders. "What was the name of the agency? I'd like to find out anything I can."

"Why is it so important now? Tell me what happened."

"I..." She took another sip while she searched for a vague way to put it. "I think someone has me confused with another person. If I can show who my parents were, that'll prove that I'm not the person they think I am."

Ama's brow creased, but she nodded. "I'll dig out the paperwork."

* * *

Four hours later found Jaq sitting at her old desk, frustrated after reaching the umpteenth dead end. The paperwork itself held no clues, just a bunch of legal jargon, including several paragraphs making it clear that the birth parents would remain strictly anonymous.

When the paperwork turned up nothing useful, she'd searched the network for information about the adoption agency itself. As Ama had said, it had closed over a decade ago when their main facility burned down. Further digging failed to uncover any contact information for anyone involved in the agency—no employee records, no mail forwarding, nothing.

Ama had been right. There was no way to find her birth parents.

She flopped back in her chair, glaring at the cheerfully unhelpful screen in front of her. If she couldn't prove who her birth parents really were, then she couldn't prove that she wasn't Sierra.

Unless she found the real Sierra.

The thought pushed her upright again. If she found the real Sierra, that would be all the proof she needed. Everything would go back to normal.

The hope fled in the next moment. The only thing she knew about Sierra was from a nightmare. But how could she have a nightmare about someone she'd never met?

Unless they had met.

She leaned forward, tugging at her hair as she thought it through. Maybe she'd been in a foster home before the adoption was finalized, or maybe she'd been left in a waiting room while the adults finalized the paperwork. She'd been somewhere where she'd met the real Sierra. The real Sierra had told her about the tree.

It made sense—more sense than any of the alternatives, anyway. The real Sierra was still out there somewhere, and if she could just track that girl down, she'd prove that she wasn't this special person everyone was looking for. She was just plain old Jaq.

Gaping flaws in her logic pressed at her mind, but she shoved them aside. This was the best, most logical explanation she'd been able to come up with, and she intended to cling to it with all her might. She turned back to the screen and refocused on the task at hand.

Riglen. The red armband in the dream showed that Sierra was part of the Riglen family. Jaq bent over the keyboard again and hunt-and-pecked it out.

S-I-E-R-R-A R-I-G-L-E-N.

She held her breath and activated the search.

It whirred as it worked, then quieted down. The results blazed onto the screen.

NO RESULTS FOUND.

She stared a moment longer, hoping it might change its mind, but the machine remained unwavering in its response. She grunted and tugged her hair harder. Of course. Sierra's name would have been changed when she was adopted.

Which put Jaq right back at square one.

She got up and refilled her cup. Ama had gone to bed hours ago, but left out the kettle. "Nothing helps a search like a good pot of tea," she'd said, kissing Jaq on the forehead. "Good luck, sweetheart. I hope you find what you're looking for."

Jaq sighed and dropped back into the chair. Sipped the tea. If only she had another name to look up.

Her eyes widened. She did. There were boys in the dream. Derek. Thomas. Johnny. Ricky. She just needed a last name.

The image of a blue armband filled her mind. The color of the Vetig family. Johnny Vetig.

Her fingers scrabbled across the keyboard so fast, she managed to hit the wrong keys five times before she forced herself to slow down. She finally got the name typed in right and activated the search.

The machine whirred, seemingly longer than last time. Jaq's fingers tightened on her hair.

The whirring quieted. The screen flashed.

ONE RESULT FOUND.

Jaq almost fell out of her chair.

Success sent her system into a giddy high. She grabbed her phone and started to dial the number, but then realized it was almost midnight. Another moment of indecision passed, but she reluctantly agreed with the more practical side of her brain: it was far too late for a call, even one as important as this.

She wrote down the phone number and deactivated the screen. It would be fine, she decided. She'd call first thing in the morning, and Johnny Vetig would tell her that she wasn't Sierra.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Jaq tugged at her hair while Ama bustled around, gathering things up.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I have these sewing meetings every week. It won't kill me to miss one."

"No, go ahead. I could use a little alone time."

Ama patted Jaq's hand away from the habit the older woman had spent years trying to break. "If you're sure. I'll be back before lunch. How about we make some pork dumplings when I get back?"

The thought of her ama's drool-inducing dumplings was the first thing to pierce the anxious and sleep-deprived fog surrounding Jaq all morning. She smiled and hugged the older woman. "That sounds wonderful."

Ama kissed her cheek. "It's a date." And with that, she grabbed her last bag and scurried out the door.

Jaq went to the window and waved until Ama's Electric Track Car eased out onto the road, connected with the single rail, and zipped off. It still amused her that her ama had chosen such a sporty little ETC, but she didn't dwell on the thought long. As soon as the car was out of sight, Jaq dashed back to her room and dug out the phone number she'd written down.

Her heart pounded. This had to be it. He would know the real Sierra. Jaq would have her proof that this was all some strange, horrible mistake. Everything would go back to how it should be.

She dialed the number with trembling fingers. Her grip on her cell phone tightened with each ring.

"Hello?" The man's voice was a baritone, a little bit on the nasal side and laced with sleepiness.

Jaq nearly dropped flat on her bed with relief. "Hello? Is this Johnny Vetig?"

"I don't need a new phone service, I'm quite happy with basic cable, and I get insurance through work. I'm not interested in visiting a new temple, no matter what you worship, and I already donate to which charities I choose."

"I'm sorry," Jaq said quickly before he could continue. "I'm not trying to sell you anything. I—my name is Jaq, and, well, you knew a girl named Sierra when you were younger, right?"

Silence met her ears. Jaq shifted her weight, wondering if he had hung up when he thought she was a salesperson. "Hello?" she tried hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

Seeing her hopes falling apart, Jaq grasped desperately to keep them together. "No, you have to know her! I mean, you grew up with her. In the Onve village. You played with her—you must know her!"

"Who are you?" His tone was hostile.

"Look, I'm no one important. I just need to know—do you still know Sierra? You still know her, right? You know where she is?"

"Why? Who are you? Why do you want to know where she is?"

"I..." Jaq struggled, searching for the right words, the magic words that would make Johnny trust her and tell her that the real Sierra was sitting right next to him. "I met her. She told me about you and the village and the tree. Now please, you still know her, where she is, right?"

The line was silent again.

"Hello?" she asked.

"You met Sierra?"

She paused. She must have. It was the only explanation that made sense. "Yes."

"When? Where did you meet her?"

She hesitated again. "Please, could you just answer my question?"

"Not until you answer some of mine. Who are you? How do you know Sierra? When did you meet her? What do you know?"

The accusing tone in his voice left goosebumps on Jaq's arms. It had been a stupid idea, calling this guy. Of course he wouldn't talk to a total stranger, and she couldn't tell him who she was or why she was asking.

"Sorry," she blurted and disconnected the call.

It took several minutes before her breathing calmed down. What had she been thinking? She was acting like an idiot. Stupid.

On the other hand, this proved one thing: Sierra was real. Johnny knew her. That part, at least, wasn't just a sleep-deprived hallucination.

But that didn't matter now. Finding the real Sierra wasn't really the solution to her problem. The fact that she had tried showed just how crazy she'd become over this thing. She didn't need to find anyone but a good shrink who could prescribe some strong anti-psychotics. And sleeping pills.

Jaq stood up, finding a sense of calm in her new decision. It was like a twelve step program: step one was admitting that she was off her nut.

Step two was to get as drugged up as possible.

She tucked her cell in her pocket and went to the network screen. It shouldn't be hard to find a shrink in the area, one she could take the bus to. Or maybe she should find one near the compound so she could finish her schooling. They let crazy people in the compound, right? If some of her classmates were any indication, the answer was yes.

The doorbell sang out a cheery tune, announcing two things: someone was at the door, and Ama had changed the doorbell yet again since Jaq was last there.

She sighed and changed direction to answer the door.

A well-dressed man stood on the doorstep, a pleasant smile on his face. "Good morning. I represent the local temple. May I ask you a few questions?"

It took some self-control not to shut the door in his face. She'd had enough of religion for the rest of her life. "Sorry, not interested." She pushed the door shut.

It stopped a few inches shy of the door frame. The man's foot was literally in the door.

Jaq pulled the door back open and frowned at him.

His smile never changed. "I'm sorry, miss, but I really need to speak with you. I'm afraid you're in some sort of danger."

A cold chill washed over her body. "No," she said, a little too quickly. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I don't know what you think you know, but you're wrong. Now please leave."

"I can't do that. Not until you answer my questions."

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob. "If you don't leave right now, I'll... I'll call the Enforcers." As if they'd rush to her help after she ran from them last night, but the man didn't know that.

The maddening smile still didn't change. "By all means. Tell them Elias says hello."

Jaq's chest tightened. She'd heard that name before. The person Agent Clark was talking to on the phone before interrogating her.

He was the man who'd had her tortured, and now he'd found her.

Chapter 6

"Leave me alone!" Jaq pushed the door shut again, hard this time.

It slammed into his foot and bounced back. His hand snaked out, caught her wrist. Before she could react, he pulled her onto the doorstep and spun her into a painful wrist lock.

"What are you doing? Stop it! Help!" Jaq screamed, pulling against him.

He calmly reached past her and pulled the front door shut, then clamped a hand over her mouth and pushed her toward his waiting car.

Jaq stomped at his feet, struggling with all her might, but he twisted her wrist harder. The instant pain nearly flattened her.

He shoved her into the back seat of the car. When he shut the door behind her, the door locks clicked into place, trapping her inside.

"Let me go!" Jaq screamed, pounding on the window, the door, anything she could reach. How could she have let herself get grabbed like that?

Elias slid into the front seat. "I'm sorry I had to do that." The ETC slid out onto the rail and shot away from Ama's house.

"What do you want with me?" Jaq cried. She pounded on his shoulder with her fists. "Let me go!"

He reached back and seized her hand with a painful vice grip. "I recommend you stop that, miss, unless you wish for us to get in an accident."

Pain shot up her arm. "Let go! Stop it!"

"When you agree to behave, I'll be glad to release you."

More hot, angry tears escaped, but she saw the truth. She was beaten. "Okay." Her voice was small. "I'll stop."

He let her hand go, and she rubbed it, wincing at the residual pain.

"I do not intend for this to be any difficulty for you," Elias continued, flying through the turns on the curvy residential road. "I merely have some questions. As soon as you have satisfactorily answered them, I will return you to your home. There's no reason for this to be any more troublesome than that."

Jaq hugged her belly and shrank into the seat. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could find a shrink. Then all this would go away. "Okay."

"What is the name of your friend who can read the rock?"

She froze. Red flashed in her vision. No. Not this again. Her fingernails dug into her palm.

"You need to answer me, miss."

All of her frustration, all of her anger blossomed through her veins. She sat up, glaring at him with near-tangible hatred.

His eyes caught hers in the mirror. "I recommend you respond quickly. As I said, there's no reason for this to become more troublesome for you."

The threat made her pause. He obviously outmatched her physically, and at their speed, she couldn't just jump out and run away. She glanced ahead at the road and suddenly recognized where they were. More importantly, she recognized where they were heading. An idea formed. It was crazy, but at this point in her life, what wasn't?

"Fine." She pulled her seatbelt across her lap and clicked it securely.

"The name?" Elias asked.

Jaq's attention remained focused on the road ahead. The slight turn to the right onto Oak Street... and there it was, in all its glory. The border curve, where Oak Street turned left to skim along the city boundary. The infamous curve that caused more accidents than any other intersection in this suburb.

"Miss?"

She waited for just the right moment, then hauled back and punched Elias as hard as she could.

The ETC skidded. Elias cursed. He wrenched the wheel into the skid. Jaq tumbled sideways. The vehicle swerved, wobbled, and returned to the track halfway through the dangerous curve.

He blew out a breath. "You're only making this more difficult for yourself, miss. I suggest—"

She gripped her seatbelt and punched again, even harder this time.

The ETC skidded again and flew off the rails, tumbling down the gravel slope at the boundary.

Jaq screamed and threw her arms over her head. The car bounced, jarring every bone in her body. The world turned into a swirl of colors and shapes as the horizon spun before her.

And then everything was still. She blinked, struggling to distinguish the blurs wavering before her eyes. Her waist ached as the seatbelt dug into it. She fumbled with the latch, managed to press the button to release it.

Her head struck the roof of the car first, then her left shoulder. She groaned in pain, lacking the strength to cry out. The car was upside-down. She should've seen that.

The shapes and colors around her slowly shifted into solid objects as her vision cleared. Elias still hung from his seatbelt, his arms swinging limply.

She had to get away.

Her mind latched onto this thought, the first clear one she'd had. The door beside her had buckled outward. It tumbled away with a push.

Jaq struggled out of the car, her arms and legs moving sluggishly, painfully. Gravel bit into her hands as she crawled out. She pushed herself up and almost fell over again. It took some effort to stay upright. She stumbled forward, sideways, staggering away from the car.

A thud came from behind her. She looked back to see Elias dragging himself from the wreckage. Blood oozed from his forehead, his nose, and a few other cuts. He shook his head to clear it and looked up toward her.

The smile was gone.

She turned and struggled back up toward the road. If she could just reach one of those houses, someone could help her. They'd help her get away from him.

Gravel crunched as Elias staggered after her.

Jaq dug in harder, fighting against her body's weakness and pain to move faster, to get away. The crunching sound behind her grew closer.

She had to get away. Couldn't let him reach her.

A hand closed around her ankle.

"No!" she cried weakly, falling to her hands and knees. The grip broke, and she struggled forward, glancing back. He was still right behind her, reaching for her again.

A car screeched to a stop on the track above them. A dark-skinned man with glasses pushed the passenger side door open. "Get in, quick!"

Jaq stared, uncomprehending. Who was this? What did he want with her? Was there anyone who wasn't after her?

The man pulled out a gun and pointed it at her. She froze, terror shocking her already numb system.

"Get down!" he yelled, then fired. The shot missed her by a mile, and she realized he hadn't been shooting at her.

She looked back. He'd missed Elias, too, but now the man was ducking, his pursuit of her temporarily disrupted.

"Hurry up, get in!" the man yelled again, squeezing off another round.

Better someone she didn't know who wanted to protect her than someone she didn't know who wanted to torture her for information. She staggered the rest of the way up the slope and fell into the car. The man took off the instant the door shut.

"Thank you," she managed to say.

He shook his head. "You're some kind of crazy."

The nasal quality of his voice struck her as familiar. She looked over at him. "Johnny?"

"I've been keeping an eye on the Observers' communications. When I saw they'd sent one of their guys after a 'Jacqueline Vega' at the same address you called me from..." He glanced in the rearview mirror. "They'll send out more once they find out what happened."

"The Enforcers will catch him."

Johnny shook his head. "The Observers'll clean it all up before Enforcers ever get there. There won't be any evidence of what they did. And they'll be after you again." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "You sure did something to catch their attention."

She struggled to make sense of anything. "Observers?"

"Secret temple society. They cover up anything they don't want the general public knowing about."

Great. Another conspiracy theorist. She sank deeper into her seat and winced. Her shoulder ached from the fall, and various other cuts and bruises were making their presence known. "What if we call the Enforcers and tell them?" It was a struggle to keep her tone level and non-condescending.

"The Enforcers aren't exactly on our side. From what I hear, the Observers have a few links with some pretty important people in the system, so anything we tell the Enforcers would just get shot down, anyway. I've got a place we can go where they won't find us."

She gingerly explored her forehead with her fingers, finding a few more cuts. "Can't you just take me back home?"

He snorted. "Sure, if you want to roll out a welcome mat for more Observers. That's where they grabbed you in the first place, remember?"

"But..." She sighed. He was right.

"Don't worry. I promise, they won't be able to find you here." He glanced over at her. "And we can talk more about Sierra."

A new light of hope buoyed her. Maybe something good would come of this. Maybe she'd finally get to meet the real Sierra.

* * *

The trip to the 'safe house' was long and circuitous. Jaq spent most of the time cleaning and bandaging herself using a first aid kit Johnny had tugged from behind her seat, though she looked up often enough to know that he was backtracking every now and then. He probably was trying to keep her confused so she wouldn't be able to find the place again on her own.

Why did she have to wind up with the weird ones?

But he had saved her life. And he was her only link to Sierra. With any hope, this would all be over very, very soon.

Johnny pulled the car into a garage connected to a modest, one-story house. The garage door automatically slid shut behind them. "Stay put for a sec," he said, pushing his glasses up again.

She repacked the medical kit and watched as he scurried to the interior doorway, pressed himself against the wall, and cautiously tested the door. Then he dug out a keycard, swiped it, and pushed the door open a few inches, staying pressed flat against the wall. Another moment passed before he finally pushed the door open the rest of the way and ducked his head around, peering into the house.

Jaq tugged on her hair. Just put up with it for a little while, then it'll be over, she told herself.

He vanished inside the house, moving furtively with his head ducked down. A couple of minutes passed before he reappeared in the door and beckoned her in. "It's all clear," he declared importantly.

She closed her eyes. Just put up with it for a little while.

The inside of the house was sparsely decorated. Heavy drapes covered every window, and the front door featured an impressive series of locks. The walls were bare, giving the place a cool, sterile feel.

Johnny led her to the living room, where two worn sofas faced each other across a rough-hewn coffee table. At least the wallpaper in this room was a little cheerier.

"You need anything to drink?" he asked. He motioned for her to take a seat. "Maybe an icepack?"

She sat on the sofa that appeared least likely to bust a seam and rubbed her still-protesting shoulder. "I'll take the icepack, thanks."

He vanished back into the kitchen and returned with a medical-grade icepack. She regarded it with surprise. She hadn't expected such a bare house to have anything so high quality. Even Ama usually used bags of frozen vegetables. She hadn't seen an icepack like this until she started schooling at the compound.

"We keep all the essentials stocked here," he said. He pushed his glasses up and plopped down on the other sofa. "So, you met Sierra?"

Jaq activated the icepack and rubbed the contents into her shoulder. It brought immediate relief with a soothing, perfectly cool temperature. She nodded.

"Where is she?"

The hope faltered. "I was hoping you knew."

He scooted closer to the edge of his seat. He looked frustrated. And desperate. "But you have to know. You met her—she told you about the tree! Where did you meet her?" He angrily pushed at his glasses. "You have to know where she is!"

"It was a long time ago!" She instinctively shrank away from him, wrapping her arms in front of her body. The last thing she wanted to face was an angry conspiracy nut. "I'm sorry, but it's been a long time. I don't know where she is now."

"Where was she when you talked to her?" He leaned forward until it looked like he would topple on his face, even more desperate now.

She glanced toward the front door. No, with that many locks, she couldn't make it out before he reached her. Her chest constricted, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. This guy saved her life. He wasn't going to hurt her now. And obviously he wanted to find the real Sierra just as much as she did. "I think it was at an adoption agency. I don't remember exactly."

"How can you not remember?" He stared at her. "How long ago was this?"

Jaq squirmed like she did when a professor called on her unexpectedly. "I... I think I was six. Maybe seven."

"You..." He stared a moment longer, then slumped back in his seat. "You don't know anything, do you?"

She bristled. "I know she's out there somewhere." Johnny's existence proved that much. "And I know you used to play with her. So I know she and I must have met somewhere, and she must've told me about you." She shook her head. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"What do you mean?"

Jaq looked away. "Nothing. Forget it. I just want—I need to find her."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you want with her?"

"Nothing!" She almost laughed. "It's everyone else who wants her!"

"What does that mean?" he demanded, jumping to his feet, towering over her. "Who wants her?"

She pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the protests in her bones. "I don't know!" She spun and paced away from him. "I don't know who these people are! But it's not me they want, it's her. She was the one in the village, so she's the girl the prophecy's about, not me. And first I get all these people wanting to talk to me out of nowhere, and then I get kidnapped and—and hurt by Enforcers, all because they think I'm her, but I can't be!" She dug her hands into her hair, fighting back tears. "I can't be."

Johnny took a moment before responding. His voice was cautiously quiet. "Who thought you were her?"

"Everyone." She dropped back onto the couch, head still in hands. "Mr. Important Dr. Crawford. Some guy, Patrick Donovan. That Elias guy in the car. Probably some other people, too. I don't know."

"Crawford?" Disgust laced his voice. Then, in a gentler tone, "You talked to Patrick?"

She shook her head. "Yeah. But he was crazy. I mean, he thought I was... but I'm not."

The couch creaked as he sat across from her again. "Why do they think you are?"

"I don't know." Jaq pushed away a stubborn tear that had leaked out. Her other hand found the bottom of her hair and set to work tugging. "I know this sounds crazy, but I was adopted when I was seven, and I don't remember anything before then. I must have met her there, at the adoption agency."

He was looking at her strangely now. Softer. "Sierra was adopted when she was almost seven. If you don't remember anything from before you were seven, then logically, isn't it possible that you are her?"

"No!" Jaq leapt up and paced again.

"Why not?"

"Because—because I can't be! I'm not some special, magical girl of prophecy! I'm just..." She closed her eyes. "I'm just Jaq."

"But if you think about it—"

"No!" she shouted again. She turned on him, determination empowering her once more. "If you don't know where she is, then I'm sorry I wasted your time. Do you know where her parents are? Or someone from her family?" A relative would surely take one look at her and know right away she wasn't Sierra.

Johnny shook his head. "Her parents died before she was adopted."

"Oh." She wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. Why else would a kid be adopted unless her parents were gone?

But that still left her without answers. Or any leads.

"I'm... um, I'm sorry I couldn't help." He was staring at her strangely again, looking a little too closely at her face. "Why don't you sit down? Can I get you something to eat or drink? Water? Coffee?"

"No." Her stomach protested, reminding her how long ago breakfast was, but she ignored it. "No, thank you. I should leave."

"That wouldn't be very smart. Those people are still looking for you."

She glared at him, but he was right. She sat down.

"Let me get you some water."

"I... okay."

He paused a moment longer, staring, then nodded and scurried back to the kitchen.

Jaq rubbed away the last few tears threatening to fall and tugged at her hair again. She should've gone with her first instincts. Trying to track down Sierra through Johnny had been a stupid idea.

Minutes stretched past, and she impatiently looked toward the kitchen. How long did it take to get water? Even in a place as sparse as this, it couldn't take that long to find a glass and fill it. She stood.

One of the locks on the door rattled.

Jaq froze. Had Elias followed them? Impossible. His car had been a total wreck. Was this one of his friends, then? Or one of Johnny's friends?

The lock slid open, followed quickly by another.

"Johnny?" She backed away from the door, never taking her eyes off it.

Another lock opened.

Bad guys wouldn't have the keys, right? The locks were opening too fast for someone picking them.

Unless it was an Enforcer master key. The thought sent her lungs into spasms again.

The last lock slid open.

"Johnny!"

Chapter 7

The door burst open. A tall, dark man barged in and slammed the door shut behind him. "Johnny!" he bellowed as he shoved two locks closed at once with a meaty hand. He paused, staring at Jaq. "Who the heck are you?"

It took a moment for her to formulate an intelligent response. "Jaq."

"What, did Johnny just find your village?" He shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa.

"Village?" She stared blankly until it clicked—Patrick told her that the Onve were hiding in secluded villages now. "No, I mean, I'm sorry. I'm not an Onve."

He raised one eyebrow and snorted. "Right. And I'm not, either. Hey, Johnny!"

Johnny scurried in from the kitchen, a sloshing glass of water in his hand. "Tom! Didn't expect you today." He shoved the glass in Jaq's direction. "Sorry, it took me a minute to, um, to..." He turned back to Tom. "Why are you here?"

"Heard some weird stuff going down on the Observer network. Looks like they sent Elias after some chick. Don't know who it was or what it was about, but if they're sending Elias, it's gotta be big. I tried to call you, but you weren't answering."

"Oh, right." Johnny pushed at his glasses. "I was a little busy, um, going after that situation myself." He jerked his head toward Jaq in an obvious attempt to be subtle. "This is, um..."

"Who Elias was after?" Tom scrutinized her. "Who are you?"

She searched her mind for a better answer. "Jaq."

"She was adopted when she was seven," Johnny supplied. "And she doesn't remember anything before that. And I just talked to Patrick, who thinks she could be Sierra." He nodded in an exaggerated manner.

"But I'm not," Jaq quickly added. "I'm just trying to find her to straighten it all out."

Tom squinted at her. He got the same funny look on his face as Johnny. "Huh."

"I'm not!"

Johnny leaned closer to her. "It's okay. He was in our village, too."

"Your village, not ours." A name from the nightmare flitted through her mind. "Tom—as in, Thomas?"

"Huh." He stared at her a moment longer, then turned back to Johnny. "So you think she's..."

Johnny nodded eagerly.

Jaq almost stomped her foot. "I'm not! Would you guys stop already? I'm not her!"

"So that means," Tom said, turning his narrowed eyes back to her, "you know who can read the rock."

She stumbled back half a step. "What?"

"Who is it?" he demanded.

Indignation and rage swelled her chest. "What do you want from me? You want to torture me, too?" Her pitch climbed with each word. "What do you people want from me? I don't know anything about this! I just want to go home and get back to my normal little life, and I don't think that's too much to ask!"

Both men stared at her in silence for a long moment. Tom looked hesitant to speak now, and Johnny looked downright scared.

She rubbed her forehead, embarrassed at her outburst and fighting tears again. She wanted to hide, to curl up somewhere safe away from all of this... this mess.

"That was your home you called me from?" Johnny asked quietly. "The network has a different name."

"It's my ama's..." She jerked upright and looked at her watch. It was almost two. "Ama! She's home by now. I have to call her!"

Tom frowned. "You can't call her from here."

"What am I, your prisoner?" she demanded. "You don't get it. Ama's going to wig out because I'm not there and didn't leave a note or anything. She's probably calling the Enforcers by now. I have to let her know I'm okay."

Johnny glanced at Tom, then back at her. "You have a cell?" At her nod, he continued. "Give her a call, but keep it short. And don't tell her where you are. Understand?"

"Yeah," Jaq said, already digging out her phone and dialing the number. Johnny tugged Tom into the kitchen, giving her some privacy.

Ama answered on the first ring. "Hello? Jaq, is that you?"

She closed her eyes. Ama's voice had never been so comforting. "Yes, it's me."

"Where are you? I was so worried. You didn't even leave a note!"

"I'm so sorry. I..." She tugged at her hair. "I wasn't really expecting to leave when I did. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Where are you?"

"Don't worry, I'm safe. I'm with friends." Sort of.

"Who are you with? Where?"

Jaq paused. Ama didn't usually push that hard for specifics. She always said it was a lady's prerogative to have some secrets, and as long as she knew Jaq was safe, that was all that really mattered. "Why do you need to know?"

"I—I was just so worried. So where are you?"

"Ama," she said, drawing it out into a slight scold.

There was a pause, then sniffles came through the line. "I'm so sorry, honey. I was so worried when you weren't here, and after what you said last night, I was afraid you were in some sort of trouble, so I called the Enforcers, and they came over and said when you called I needed to find out where you were, and—"

The line went dead.

Jaq froze. Enforcers? Terror gripped her chest, making it a struggle to breathe. Were the Enforcers at Ama's house like the ones who'd grabbed her? Or were they like Agent Ackerson? She had to find out. She couldn't bear the thought of Ama being in danger because of her.

She couldn't ask Johnny and Tom for help. Johnny had made it clear enough he didn't trust the Enforcers for whatever paranoid reason. And she couldn't call Ama back if Enforcers were right there. If they were bad, they might threaten Ama if she called again. Frustrated, she tugged on her hair with a vengeance, hating the feeling of helplessness that was becoming far too familiar.

Agent Ackerson.

She paused at the thought. He'd said that if she needed anything, she should call him. And she already knew that he wasn't with the people who'd hurt her. He might be mad at her for running off and using his name to get a train ticket, but maybe if she apologized and explained what was happening with Ama, he'd be willing to help.

It was worth a try. It was really her only option at that point.

She dug out his business card and dialed.

"Jaq?" Agent Ackerson said as he answered the phone. "Are you all right? Your ama called a while ago, worried because she didn't know where you were." He paused, then sounded perplexed. "Where are you, exactly?"

"I'm fine. I just talked to her and—"

"Oh, so you're back with her now?"

"No, I called her. She said—"

"That's not possible." She could hear the frown in his voice. "We had her line routed to us in case of contact. Any calls made to her would've come directly to me."

A new chill sent her fingers clenching into her hair. "There were Enforcers at her house. She said they told her to find out where I was."

"Stay where you are. I'll call you right back."

Her phone beeped, signaling the end of the call.

Jaq grunted in frustration. What was happening? Was Ama in danger?

"Is something wrong?" Johnny asked, peeking into the room. He pushed at his glasses. "You seem distressed."

She wanted to throw the phone at him. "Distressed? All this crap going on, and you think I'm 'distressed'?"

He looked startled at her reaction. "I'm sorry, I just, you seem, I mean... is everything okay with your ama?"

"No!" She dropped onto the couch. "And no one will tell me what's going on, and—"

Her cell phone rang.

She jumped to her feet and snatched it up without even glancing at the number. "Hello?"

"It's Agent Ackerson. The men at your ama's house have been detained. She's safe. They didn't hurt her."

Jaq melted. "Thank you."

"I get the impression these men were also working with..." He paused. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I promise."

"So Ama's okay?"

"She's fine, just worried about you. Now, where are you, exactly? It's not coming up on my—"

Tom grabbed the phone out of her hands, glanced at the screen, then threw it against the wall. It burst like a firework, sending a spray of microchips and plastic across the floor.

"What—what do you think you're doing?" Jaq sputtered, furious. "That's my phone!"

"She was calling the Enforcers!" Tom thundered. He grabbed her arm. "Do you work with them, or are you just stupid?"

Jaq wrenched her arm free. "What? No! I'm not—I don't—"

"Stop until we know the facts," Johnny interjected, pulling Tom a step back. "She might not have known." He turned to her. "Why did you call the Enforcers?"

His words splashed cold water on Jaq's indignation. "Known what? I called Ama, but there were Enforcers there. I was afraid they would hurt her, so I called the Agent who helped me before."

Tom's eyes narrowed. "Why were Enforcers at your ama's house? That's not how they do things."

"That's what Agent Ackerson said. He thinks they might have been working with the others."

"So you were merely calling the Enforcers out of concern for your ama," Johnny interpreted.

Jaq nodded.

"Great," Tom snorted, glaring at her. "And now your stupidity's lost us a safe house."

She bristled. "I didn't... Lost? What are you talking about?"

"See? She didn't realize the implications of her actions," Johnny said. "This house is completely off the grid. There's no phone line, no address to tie it into the Enforcer network. Officially, it doesn't even exist."

"But you had to go call the Enforcers from inside the house," Tom threw in, still glaring. "So now their network knows there's a structure here."

"So? It's not like you guys are wanted by the Enforcers or anything." She paused. "Are you?"

"No, but someone wants you," Tom retorted. "Someone who's been abusing the Enforcer system to get to you."

Time seemed to freeze for a horrifying moment as her brain connected the dots. They knew where to find her now. They were going to come after her. Her knees buckled. The air rushed out of her lungs and refused to come back in.

"Jaq?" Johnny moved to her side. "There's no need to panic. It was stupid, but what's done is done. There are other safe houses we can go to."

Terror gripped her system and wouldn't let go. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"Take it easy," Tom said, his voice scolding. "Just calm down and take a breath."

Her vision blurred as her lungs burned, screaming for air that wouldn't come.

"Tom? She isn't..." Johnny started haltingly.

Tom grabbed her shoulders and hauled her into a seated position, then shoved her head down between her knees. "Breathe slowly," he ordered.

She wanted to smack him, to grab him and pull him in front of her face and show him that she was trying to breathe, but something was wrong with—

The grip on her chest relaxed. She drew in a weak, rattling breath.

"That's it, keep it up," Johnny coaxed.

Each breath came a little easier than the last. The pressure on her head relaxed, then released as Tom stepped away, regarding her with arms folded across his chest.

"Are you okay now?" Johnny asked, his forehead creased with worry. He glanced back up at Tom. "We should take her to the medics."

"It was a panic attack. She'll be fine." Tom pulled his coat on. "You get those often?"

All Jaq could do was shake her head.

"You shouldn't scare her," Johnny scolded. "She's been through a lot."

"She's gonna be through a lot more. And she needs to figure out how to use her brain before pulling dumb stunts like that."

"I didn't know," she wheezed.

"Yeah. Exactly." Tom lifted the side of a curtain a few inches and peered out. "Looks clear for now. We better move fast."

Johnny helped Jaq to her feet. "We'll be able to move more efficiently if we give her a moment to recover now."

"I'm fine," she said, getting tired of being talked about like she wasn't right there. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to still be there if someone like Elias showed up. Or Agent Clark. "I'm ready to go."

"Let's move, then." Tom started toward the door.

"No, my car," Johnny said. "Through the kitchen. I'll grab my bag on the way through."

A faint sound came from the back of the house.

Johnny frowned. "What—"

Glass shattered in one of the back rooms, then another.

"They're in!" Tom grabbed Jaq's arm and ran for the kitchen. "Move!"

More windows shattered. Grey clouds billowed in from the other rooms.

Jaq gasped. "Fire!"

"Keep going!" Tom barked.

The door in front of them flew open, belching another cloud of smoke.

Jaq screamed, but it came out weak and raspy. She stumbled away from the cloud, coughing. She grabbed at Tom's arm and tried to shout, to cry that they needed to get out of there, but the sound caught in her throat.

Tom pulled her away from the door, back down the hallway to the living room. She stumbled over her feet and nearly fell, but his vice grip on her arm kept her upright. Her shoulder screamed in pain at the rough handling, but she hardly noticed. Her focus was on her voice, trying to shout, scream, speak, anything.

The smoke was so thick, she could barely see anymore, but she made out the form of Johnny crouching by the wall. What was he doing? They had to get out! She tugged on Tom's arm, trying to pull him toward the front door, but he remained at Johnny's side, not moving.

Her fingers tightened. Why weren't they moving? Was this some sort of martyrdom complex? She tried to pull free, determined not to die with them.

A dark opening appeared low on the wall. Tom pushed her down toward it. She struggled, but he picked her up and shoved her into a cramped space, barely large enough to sit up in. He squeezed in behind her, then Johnny climbed in. The front panel slid back into place, plunging them into complete darkness.

Jaq's chest constricted. She pushed at Tom, trying to break past him. She had to get out of there and into the clean air outside. She couldn't breathe. The smoke was choking her. She had to get out.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around her. She fought for a moment, but the arms remained firmly in place. She finally melted into them, unable to do anything but struggle for air.

Chapter 8

"Come on, fight it! Breathe!"

Murkiness sucked Jaq in, trying to pull her back into the blackness surrounding her. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs and throat burned, and something heavy pressed against her face. A cold sensation tingled at her lips.

"It isn't working. It isn't working!"

The darkness deepened again. Awareness faded.

A hand roughly pushed her head backwards. The tingle shot past her lips and down her throat, piercing the thickness, cooling the burn. She choked, then coughed violently, her body jerking in spasms as she fought to suck in air.

The darkness gave way to blurry swirls of light and color. She pushed, struggled to right herself, to get away from the darkness and breathe again.

A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, restraining her. The pressure on her face increased. She scrambled in panic, her fingers clawing at whatever was on her face. She found an arm and grabbed it, trying to pull it away.

"That's enough!" This voice was different, deeper. Firmer.

Jaq found herself obediently still, fingers still gripping the arm, as she gasped in the strange, tingling air.

"Take deep breaths," the first voice soothed. It sounded nasally, like Johnny's voice, but thicker, as if talking through a mouthful of oatmeal.

As the last of the heaviness faded from her lungs, the swirls around her began to differentiate. Tom held her under the shoulders with one arm, his other hand pressing some sort of mask over her nose and mouth. Her legs rested on a cold concrete floor.

Johnny crouched at her other side, hovering over her with concern on his face. He pushed his glasses into place. "It's all out now, right? She'll be okay?"

"She's fine." Tom pulled the mask away from her face. His voice, like Johnny's, seemed thicker than before.

Jaq drew in a breath of normal air, then pushed herself upright. The room's bare concrete walls and stacks of metal crates swayed around her.

"Easy," Johnny cautioned, steadying her. "You don't have to get up until you're ready."

"She's ready." Tom pulled her to her feet and seated her on one of the crates.

Johnny scurried to her side. "Ignore him. Take the time you need."

"What happened? What was..." Jaq stopped and cleared her throat. Her voice came out just as thick as the men's.

"Excylocytic lexanirium, in gaseous state," Johnny replied, pushing at his glasses. "They call it choke gas. Enforcers use it for crowd control because it's heavier than air, so it sits in the lungs and makes it hard to talk or breathe. It's designed to disperse unruly crowds by increasing panic."

Jaq coughed again. "It worked."

"It isn't meant to cause a cessation of breathing. You must have had another panic attack, which exacerbated the issue, and—"

"Go send the signal to the bases already," Tom barked from the other side of the room.

"Right." Johnny hurried over to a box on the wall and opened it, revealing a touchpad. He began tapping in a sequence of numbers. "We have to let the bases know that this safe house is compromised. The Observers will be watching it now."

Jaq shuddered. "Where are we? Are they still after us?"

"Probably, but they won't find us. This is a secured basement, completely sealed off from the main floor of the house. They couldn't find their way in unless they already knew how. And it's airtight, too, so none of the choke gas can get down here." He pushed at his glasses. "Technically, a minute quantity would have come in with us through the elevator, but it's not enough to have any effect. Well, it's not really an elevator, it's more of a dumbwaiter, based on size and pulley system, but—"

"Give me a hand over here," Tom ordered.

Jaq turned to see that Tom had one of the larger crates open. He wheeled out a sort of small motorcycle.

"Only two here," he said, parking the bike on a large metal grate on the floor. "You take one. I'll take her on the other."

She looked around as Johnny wheeled out the second bike and parked it next to the first. There weren't any doors, windows, or any other sort of exit from the room that she could see. "Where are we going?"

Tom flipped a switch on the wall. A mechanical whir buzzed through the space, bouncing off the bare walls, as a metal panel beneath the grate slid aside. "To the sewers."

Jaq couldn't stop her nose from wrinkling. "The sewers?"

"I know what you're thinking," Johnny said. He stepped back onto the concrete floor just as the metal grate began to descend. "The sewers are self-contained, self-cleaning, self-maintained, and self-run, a completely enclosed system. So how would we get in there?"

She'd been more grossed out than worried about logistics, but she nodded anyway.

"When they established that system twelve years ago, they built in all sorts of walkways, tunnels, and access tubes in conjunction with the system for the engineers and construction workers to get around. Once the system was running and functional, they sealed off those tunnels from the surface, but never bothered to dismantle all the access structures they'd put in place. Now, some people thought that was wasteful, and—"

"All that stuff is still there," Tom interjected. "We use it to get around when we need to go undetected."

"Oh."

Tom crouched and jumped down onto the grate, vanishing from view. "Let's go. Bring her down."

Jaq frowned at the hole, tired of him talking about her like she wasn't there. "My name's Jaq, you know."

"I know."

Johnny helped her up. "Don't mind him. He's, um, grouchy."

She shook her head and followed Johnny to the hole. At least her voice was sounding better now. The men's voices seemed clearer, as well.

The edge of the hole revealed a small ladder leading from the floor down to the lowered grate. Tom had already moved both bikes off the grate and onto a metal walkway. As Johnny described, the walkway sat beside the sleek tube of the self-contained sewer system.

Johnny helped her down the ladder, then climbed down behind her.

"Off the grate," Tom said as he flipped a switch. The grate began to rise.

She jumped back off the surface, Johnny right beside her. The metal walkway they landed on shuddered.

Jaq grabbed the thin railing between them and the tube. "You really get around on these things?"

"Well, they haven't been formally maintained for twelve years," Johnny said. "There's bound to be some decay. But they're still quite secure." He stomped his foot to illustrate his point.

The walkway shuddered again.

"We've been using these for years." Tom climbed onto one of the bikes. "They're fine. Let's go."

Johnny helped her climb on behind Tom. She couldn't help thinking she'd rather be riding with Johnny, who at least seemed to have some concern for her well-being.

Johnny hauled himself onto the other bike. It instantly tipped. "Woah!" He stumbled around for a moment before managing to regain his balance.

She suddenly felt much safer riding with Tom.

The ride lasted several harrowing hours. Both men flew along the walkways at reckless speeds, leaving the entire structure shaking behind them. The bikes jerked and rattled in response throughout the entire trip. When Jaq had first gotten on the bike behind Tom, she'd tentatively rested her hands on his back, too awkward to hold him any tighter than that. Within minutes, her arms were wrapped around him, clinging with all her might.

"We're here," Tom said.

Jaq pried her eyes open and realized that they'd stopped. Her cheeks warmed. "Sorry." She disentangled her arms and climbed off the bike. Several muscles immediately protested at the sudden movement. She winced and rubbed her shoulder.

The walkway looked no different from the areas they'd already travelled. She looked around for some clue of what 'here' was. "Where are we?"

"One of the bases," Tom said.

Remembering where they'd come from, she looked up, waiting for something in the dark ceiling above them to slide away.

The floor beneath her rattled, then descended.

"Woah!" She grabbed the railing beside her. "What's happening? Why are we going down?"

"The bases are built deep underground," Johnny explained. "We're between major cities, not far from the roadways now. No one ever investigates this far out, making it the ideal location for remaining concealed."

Panic gripped her chest. "Underground?"

"It's a safe place," Johnny reassured her. "The Observers know nothing about it. They can't come after you here."

The walkway shuddered to a stop. Tom slid open a panel and typed in a code, then a door Jaq hadn't seen whirred open.

"What is that?" she asked, staring at the tiny, empty room on the other side of the door.

"That's just the elevator." Johnny snickered a little, a snort sliding out as he adjusted his glasses. "Don't worry, the whole base is a lot bigger than that."

She couldn't convince her fingers to release their death grip on the railing. Did she really want to exchange one prison for another?

"Come on," Tom said. He stepped into the elevator, pressing his hand over the door to keep it open.

She forced herself to draw in a shaky breath. It would be okay. These people would help her find the real Sierra. And they'd keep her safe from the people who wanted to hurt her. Once they found the real Sierra, she could go back to her normal life.

Her fingers finally uncurled from the railing. She reluctantly stepped into the elevator, Johnny right behind her.

The door whirred to a close, then the elevator dropped fast enough to make Jaq gasp. She clung to the side until it slowed to a stop.

Tom led the way out of the elevator into a brightly-lit room that wasn't much bigger. A few plain benches lined the walls, and aside from the elevator, there was no apparent exit.

Jaq slowed and lingered in the elevator doorway, looking around the room. This was their safe base? They were just going to sit in a little room and... what, wait for someone to magically fix everything?

Tom glanced back and rolled his eyes. "Get out of the elevator." He turned and poked at the wall, frowned, then thumped it with his fist.

"The rooms don't open from the inside anymore," Johnny said, squeezing past Jaq. "We have to wait for them to let us in."

"When'd they change that?"

"About a year ago. How long's it been since you went to a base?"

Tom shrugged. "More than a year."

"It's bigger than just this, right?" Jaq asked.

"Get out of the elevator," Tom repeated. "They can't let us in while the elevator's still open."

She stepped in and jumped a mile when the door immediately whirred shut behind her. More mechanical whirrs emitted from the wall as the elevator ascended.

Her breath caught. They were stuck here until some unknown person decided to let them in.

"Identification," a voice suddenly boomed from a speaker above their heads.

Jaq jumped again and pressed herself flat against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

"It's me," Tom grunted, casting a stink eye upward. "Open the door already."

There was a long pause. "Identification."

"Johnny Vetig, alpha-epsilon-three-pi," Johnny quickly said. "And this is Jaq Vega. She's a friend."

Another pause.

Tom rolled his eyes again. "Tom Ariv, bite-gamma-pi-me."

"Say your real code," the voice ordered.

"Richard, if you don't open this door—"

With a hiss, lines appeared in the wall, outlining a door that quickly slid away. Several uniformed guards stood in the hallway on the other side, peering in at the three of them.

"Let's go," Tom said, stepping out into the middle of the group.

Jaq was acutely aware that the men seemed to be staring at her.

"Is that...?" one of the guards whispered to Tom.

"Maybe."

Her cheeks flushed. Part of her wanted to snap out a denial, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything with so many strangers staring at her. She wanted to be back at the compound, sitting unnoticed in class, getting good grades and being her usual unimportant self. She wanted to be in Ama's house, curled up on the couch with tea and pork dumplings. She wanted to be anywhere but there.

But Johnny was already leading her out into the hallway, into the midst of the waiting men.

"I don't think she is," one of the men, a militaristic-looking guard with crew-cut hair, abruptly declared.

Relief flooded Jaq's veins. Finally, someone who didn't think she was Sierra! She could have kissed the man right then and there.

She turned to smile at him, but the look in his eyes froze her mouth where it was. It wasn't anything she could name, but there was something cold about the way he looked at her. Cold and dark.

"That's precisely what we're here to determine," Johnny said, shoving his glasses.

A shorter guard with a kind face stepped forward and addressed Tom and Johnny. "Richard wants to talk to you two in his office first. I'll go with you there."

"What about her?" Tom asked.

Jaq bit her lip and tried to push back her annoyance.

The shorter guard turned to her. "If you don't mind, miss, one of us will take you to a conference room. It'll only be a couple minutes before Richard comes to talk with you."

"I'll take her," the crew-cut guard interjected.

"Are you sure?" the shorter man asked, looking surprised.

Jaq hoped with all her might that the crew-cut guy would change his mind, but he only nodded.

"Okay. This is Clint; he'll take you to the conference room. Just let him know if you want anything to drink or eat, or whatever." He smiled and shook her hand. "I'm Michael, by the way. I'll probably see you around while you're here. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

She nodded, feeling a little better. "Jaq. And thanks."

Much to her relief, a couple of the other guards followed along as Clint led her through a long tangle of hallways. Like the entry room, the halls were overly lit and bare, only broken up by intersecting hallways and periodic doors. They passed few people as they went, people who paused to stare at her. Her cheeks warmed again, and she kept her eyes downward.

Finally, Clint stopped and opened one of the doors. He peered inside, then stepped in and gestured for her to enter. "Have a seat."

The room was chilly and empty, furnished only with one long table surrounded by chairs. She hesitantly stepped in, then took a seat toward the end of the table.

"You two get back to patrol," Clint ordered the other guards. "I'll make sure she has what she needs."

A sharp pang of fear shot through Jaq's chest. "I don't need anything. I'll just wait here."

He leveled a cool gaze at her. "I'll bet. But I wouldn't be a very good guard if I left people unsecured, would I?" He waved the other two off.

To her dismay, they obediently left. Leaving her alone with Clint.

Chapter 9

"What can I get you?" Clint asked. He pushed the door shut. "Water? Coffee?" He slowly walked behind Jaq. "Base access codes?"

She twisted to stare at him. "What?"

He lunged, slamming one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair, his face only inches from hers. "Don't play with me! I don't know what your game is, lady, but it's not going to work!"

Her chest constricted. The arm of the chair dug into her side as she tried to lean away from him, but he followed her, his eyes narrow and hard.

"I don't—I'm not—they made me come down here!" she managed to gasp out. "I'm not playing anything!"

"I'll bet," he sneered. "Those idiots might get their heads turned around by a cute Cazael girl fluttering her eyelashes, but you'll find I'm not so easy. So you just go back to your friends and tell them it's not going to work, got it?"

"Friends? I don't know what you're talking about!"

He leaned in closer. Her chest tightened further. She couldn't breathe.

"Spin all the lies you want. But if you believe for a second that there is anything I wouldn't do to guarantee the security of this base..."

Jaq tried to stand, desperate to get away from the madman, but his grip on her chair remained firm, keeping her trapped in place. She wanted to run, to scream for help, but she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"Tell me the truth!" he thundered, his face in hers.

Frantic to escape, she shoved him as hard as she could and scrambled to her feet. The world was beginning to blur. She had to get out, away from him. She had to get air.

His fingers dug into her arm, painfully cutting off her escape. He threw her back into the chair. "Tell me!"

The door flew open.

A man stood in the doorway, a shocked look on his face. "What's going on in here?"

Tom stormed into the room from behind the man. Without breaking stride, he grabbed Clint and slammed him against the far wall.

She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't hold her. She struggled to get a breath, just one breath. None would come.

The next thing she knew, she was seated on the floor and Johnny was at her side, pushing her head down. "That's it, nice, slow breaths," he coaxed.

Her lungs finally cooperated. She gasped, sucking air greedily.

"Tom, put him down," the unfamiliar man said. "Michael, take him to my office. I'll deal with him later."

Jaq hazarded a look. Clint glared at her through one good eye as he walked past. The other eye appeared freshly swollen shut. Michael quickly escorted him from the room.

The man crouched down in front of her. "Are you all right, miss?"

"She just had a panic attack," Tom said. He stepped around Johnny and pulled her to her feet, sitting her back in the chair. "What did he want from you?"

She took a couple more deep breaths before answering. "I don't know. He said—I didn't get what he was saying. He kept talking about base access codes, and saying my game wouldn't work, and I should tell my friends it wasn't going to work." She looked up, searching for signs that they believed her. "I don't know what he was talking about."

Johnny looked puzzled, but the man frowned and Tom scowled. Her breath caught. Did the man think Clint was right? But Tom had to be on her side—didn't he?

"He's gone over the top since last time I was here," Tom said. He sat down beside Jaq. Johnny dropped into the chair on her other side.

"He's been particularly protective after we lost those last couple bases," the man said, wandering to the other side of the table. "After Derek left..."

Jaq looked him over for the first time as he sat down across from her. He seemed close to Johnny's age, but lines drew heavy in his slightly pudgy face, and premature grey colored his hair at the temples.

"It's Jaq, right?" he asked. She nodded. "I'm Richard. I'm in charge of this base. I understand you're the one all the fuss is about up top."

She hesitated, unsure how to respond. He wasn't as outright cold as Clint, but he was distant, rigid. For all she knew, he still thought Clint might be right about her. "I... um..."

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Something about him struck her as familiar. Images from the dream flooded back. Sierra's cousin. "Ricky?"

He blinked, obviously taken aback. "No one's called me that since I was a kid."

Johnny leaned forward. "I assume you've spoken with Patrick?"

"Briefly." He tilted his head again. "Do you agree, Tom? You think she's really..."

Jaq closed her eyes. Not this again. "I'm not her! The only reason I called Johnny was to try to find someone who knows her so I can prove that they've got the wrong person. I don't know why all this is happening to me, but I just want to go back to my normal life instead of having everyone chasing me because they think I'm someone that I'm not!"

The men were silent for several seconds, then Richard leaned back. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

She tugged her hair and reminded herself that these people were still her best bet for finding the real Sierra. Or at least proving for sure that she wasn't Sierra. If she could just convince them of that...

She told them about the recurring nightmare. About being approached in the museum by both Crawford and Donovan. About the arrest and interrogation in the hands of the Enforcers. And about Elias kidnapping her from her ama's house.

"That's when Johnny showed up," she finished.

"I'd been tracking the Observer's messages. When I saw they'd sent Elias after her, I drew the only natural conclusion," Johnny said. He shoved at his glasses. "This was a person of importance."

"But that's my point," she cut back in. "They think I'm someone important, but I'm not. I don't know who this Sierra girl is. The only reason I'm having this nightmare is because I must have met her at the adoption agency, and she must've told me about it."

Richard glanced at the other two men before addressing her. "And that's more reasonable an explanation than the possibility that you, since you don't remember who you were before you were adopted, could actually be Sierra?"

"Yes!" Irritated, she stood and paced the small room. "Because—because it just doesn't make sense! I've never heard of the Onve, or this religion of whatever it was called, or people who live in boxes underground, and I'm not some important person of prophecy here to save the world! I'm just... I'm just Jaq."

She leaned against the wall and tugged her hair. She didn't dare mention that she herself had considered the possibility that she could be Sierra.

"Very well," Richard said.

She blinked. "What?"

"Very well. You're not Sierra." He gestured for her to take her seat.

She searched, but saw no sarcasm in his face. She cautiously sat back down.

"But she's—" Johnny started.

Richard cut him off, still speaking to Jaq. "But you wish to find the real Sierra, correct?"

"Or at least prove I'm not her." She tugged at her hair, searching her mind. "Did she have a birthmark or something? Isn't that common in prophecies, that the 'chosen one' will have some special symbol on them?"

Tom snorted. Johnny snickered, which quickly turned into a snort.

"That's more common to mythology in other religions," Richard said.

"This prophecy's identifying factor was that she was the only girl born in our village," Johnny added.

"Then how are you supposed to find her?"

"We weren't supposed to lose her in the first place," Tom said. Bitterness laced his tone.

"The village leaders did what they thought was best for her protection." Richard tilted his head again. "They believed we would be able to locate her when the time came."

"See how great that worked."

Richard opened his mouth, but then turned to Jaq instead. "Regardless, we all have the same goal here. We wish to find Sierra. And we can keep you safe from those who would hurt you until we find her."

"I'm fine with that. Tom and Johnny already suggested that. What I'm not fine with is everyone staring at me and acting like I am her." Jaq folded her arms. "I've had enough of this whole mistaken identity thing to last a lifetime. I don't want everyone whispering and tiptoeing around like I'm someone special."

"Understandable." Richard shifted his weight. "It's a pity you can't recall the specifics of when you met her."

Johnny snapped his fingers. "Of course!"

The others stared at him.

"What?" Richard asked.

"I'd been wondering why Jaq can't remember anything before she was adopted—and ever since the rock was discovered, I've been wondering why Sierra hasn't tried to find us." He paused.

Tom gestured impatiently. "And?"

"I just remembered something from my research into the adoption agency. There was an off-handed mention of a practice that was widespread for a brief time before being denounced as unhealthy for adopted families to undertake. Of course, the adoption industry leaders tried to bury this information, which is why I was only able to locate such a brief mention of it in all my research, and—"

"Get on with it," Tom snapped.

"Right. For about two years, right around the time that Sierra and you were adopted, many adoptive parents were having the child's memory erased."

Richard stared. "Erased?"

"It was called 'clean-slating.' Some quack claimed that the child was better able to bond with the adoptive parents if they had no memory of prior attachments. It allegedly created a stronger bond between parent and child, eliminated emotional baggage, and allowed the new family to have a fresh start. All untrue, of course, but because someone on TV claimed it was true, many people had the surgery performed, especially if the child came from a difficult situation, like if they were removed from an abusive home."

"But that doesn't prove..." Jaq blinked as realization hit. "My parents had my memory erased?"

"Your lack of memories from before your adoption would seem to indicate so."

"They were probably doing what they thought was best for you," Richard said.

"But this would explain why Sierra hasn't sought us out," Johnny continued. He turned to look Jaq in the eyes. "She doesn't remember who she was."

She looked away, overwhelmed. How could her parents have done such a thing?

"So where exactly does that leave us?" Tom asked. "She's still out there somewhere, but doesn't know who she is?" He paused. "Is it reversible?"

Jaq's breath caught. Could she get her memories back? She suddenly didn't know what terrified her more: the thought of living the rest of her life without those memories, or the thought of getting them back and discovering that she actually was...

"No," Johnny said. "The inter-cranial connections within the brain cells are completely severed in this process. There's no way to reverse it."

Tom slapped a hand on the table and stood up. "What good is that to us?"

"It provides us with an explanation as to why she has not yet sought us out. And it gives us crucial information to keep in mind as we search for her, that she may not recognize us or know what we're talking about. It may be difficult to convince her of who she is." Johnny glanced at her. "That is, not that I'm saying it's you. Because you aren't necessarily her."

Jaq felt an urge to beat her head on the table. She closed her eyes again. She might as well face it. There would be no getting through to Johnny, no convincing him that she wasn't who he thought she was. And no way to prove it, either, with no hope of restoring her lost memories.

The thought made her sick to her stomach.

"Don't worry," Richard said gently. "We'll figure this out."

She sighed. "I'm just... tired. It's been a long day." She almost laughed out loud at her own understatement. It was only early evening, but it felt like a lifetime of chaos had passed. And her aching muscles were voicing louder and louder complaints by the minute. "A really long day."

"Of course. Tom, Johnny, I know it's been a while for either of you, but the guest rooms are in the same sector as always. Why don't you show her to one of the spare rooms and get her settled." He smiled. "It's no five-star hotel, but at least we have real mattresses now. For the first few years, all we had were some surplus cots."

"Thanks." She paused. "But first, I need to talk to my ama. I can't just leave her up there to worry about me, with no clue where I am."

"Yeah. That worked well last time," Tom said.

"I didn't mean—" Jaq tugged her hair in frustration. "You said you talked to Patrick, right? So you guys must have some way of communicating with people up there without the bad guys finding you. I just need to let Ama know that everything's fine." When the men gave no immediate response, she continued. "Because when Ama is really, genuinely worried about my safety, she stops at nothing to track me down. She won't stop bugging the Enforcers until they look into it."

"I trust that you, of all people, understand the dangers of the wrong people discovering where we are," Richard said, frowning.

"Then let me talk to Ama. I won't tell her where I am or who you are or anything like that. I just want to tell her I'm okay."

Richard glanced at Johnny, who shrugged. He turned to Tom.

Tom nodded.

"We'll get you some paper to write her a note. Keep it simple, just say that you decided to stay with some friends out of town or something like that."

She almost laughed out loud again. "Ama knows me too well to believe that. But I know what to tell her. Something she'll believe, and she won't worry or ask questions." She'd been talking for almost five years about taking a month-long trip to visit the galleries and museums in Gerren, a city over a hundred miles away that was famous for its cultural and historical focus. She'd never worked up the courage to go so far from home, however.

"If you're sure," Richard said.

She nodded. "And you'll get it to her?"

"By tomorrow morning."

Jaq hated to leave Ama worrying so long, but she didn't have much choice in the matter. "Thank you."

"Of course. Rest well."

Tom opened the door. "Johnny, get the stuff for her note. Grab her something to eat, too. I'll take her to her room."

She followed Tom into the hallway, resentment grinding at her. "You know, I really hate it when you talk about me like I'm not standing right here."

"I'm getting that."

A few choice phrases jumped to her lips, but she swallowed them and chose to tug on her hair instead.

Tom led her through another maze of halls before stopping in front of a door. A green tag hung on the front, the first distinguishing marker she'd seen on any of the doors in the hallways they'd passed. He flipped the marker to the other side, red, and opened the door. "Here."

The room was tiny, with just enough room for a twin bed and a small chest of drawers. A scarf draped over one of the walls like a curtain, but it was sheer enough to reveal the bare wall behind it.

"Johnny'll be here soon. If you need anything else, guards walk through every half hour or so."

"Thanks." She took a deep breath. "And thanks for... before. Um, with Clint."

He seemed caught off guard. "Yeah, well..." He straightened. "You've got to be careful. And be smart about things. Don't just lose your head and count on someone else magically appearing to save you. See you tomorrow." With that, he vanished down the hall.

Jaq closed the door and leaned against it. Buried her face in her hands. Stared between her fingers at the scarf on the wall.

"This sucks," she informed it.

It gave her no response.

* * *

The next morning found her feeling no better. The previous evening's sore muscles had turned into stiff boards overnight, and it took several minutes of stretching before she could move normally.

Mentally, she was even worse. It had been some comfort to give Johnny the note for Ama, but knowing that Ama wouldn't worry didn't change the fact that people wanted to kill her. And apparently there wasn't much hope for that to change, either. Not unless some doctor miraculously came up with a way to reverse memory-erasing brain surgery. Which her parents had decided was the best way to deal with her when they adopted her.

There were too many bitter tastes in her mouth, and only one of them had to do with not having a toothbrush.

She ran her fingers through her mop of hair, trying to tame it as best as possible with no comb, no water, and no mirror. Giving up, she went to the door and peeked out. There had to be a bathroom nearby.

The hall was empty. She stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her. "Hello?" she called. Tom said guards walked through... how often? She couldn't remember. And with no signs on any of the doors, except for the green tags on the doors in this hallway, she had no way of knowing which door might hold the facilities she needed.

Jaq tugged on her hair, and her finger got caught in a snarl. Grunting in frustration, she yanked it free and winced at the resulting pain in her scalp.

Fine. She would just have to start walking until she ran into someone who could help her.

The first hall proved a dud, with no red tags to indicate where another person might be staying. She randomly went left, wandering down the next hall, watching for any signs of life.

Claw-like fingers dug into her arm, spinning her around to come inches from Clint's furious face.

Chapter 10

Clint's grip tightened. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

Jaq stepped back, panic coursing through her body. "I—I just need a bathroom, and I couldn't find anyone, and—"

He pulled her back again, glaring at her. His bad eye from yesterday was no longer swollen shut, but it was a puffy mass of unnatural colors. "I saw you sneaking around! Where were you going? Tell me!"

Her chest tightened. She tried to pull free, terrified of yet another panic attack. She couldn't let herself break down like that again—she had to get away, to find someone who could help her. "Let me go!"

"Were you going to signal your friends?" he demanded. He shook her, hard. "Talk!"

"Hey!"

Tom strode toward the two of them, Johnny right behind him.

Clint released her arm and stepped back, jabbing a finger toward Tom. "You stay away from me, Ariv."

"Then you stay away from her."

Jaq nearly collapsed with relief, but she still couldn't catch her breath. She crouched, bent her head down, and tried to focus on taking deep breaths.

"I'm not going to turn my back on a genuine security threat!"

Tom's eyes narrowed. "How are you even out here? Richard should've locked you up yesterday."

"And thrown away the key," Johnny threw in, shoving at his glasses.

"You got something to say?" Clint sneered, taking a step toward Johnny.

Tom stepped in his path, stopping him short. "How'd you get out?"

Jaq's chest finally relaxed. She drew in a shaky breath.

"I'm the best guard this base has. Richard wouldn't risk locking up his best guard, not with..." He shot a glare at Jaq.

"You got a problem?" Tom demanded, taking another step toward Clint.

The guard held his ground this time. "It's my job to take care of any security threats to this base," he hissed, "no matter how cute and innocent they may appear."

Johnny shoved at his glasses. "But it's illogical to assume that she's a threat simply because she's new. And since she may or may not be someone of importance, logic dictates that the more reasonable response would be—"

"Johnny," Tom barked out.

"Shut up!" Clint snapped at the same time.

Tom's fist tightened. "You watch how you treat my friends. All my friends."

Clint opened his mouth, then closed it. "You just keep your little 'friend' from sneaking around the base, then." He spun around and marched away.

Johnny turned immediately to Jaq. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied before Tom could say it for her. "I don't know what happened. I was just trying to find a bathroom, and suddenly he grabbed me. I didn't even see him in the hall."

"You need to be more careful." Tom turned to Johnny. "I'm going to have a few words with Richard."

Johnny was still focused on Jaq. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. She winced and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm just tired of... all of this. I feel like I could handle it better if I could just breathe instead of freaking out every time."

"Quit letting it mess with your head," Tom said.

"What?"

"You get scared, then you get scared that you're scared, then you can't breathe because you're scared, then you're scared that you can't breathe. Stop letting it mess with you, and you'll be fine."

Exasperation boiled over. "Great! Thank you so much for being so helpful. Don't get scared when people are trying to kill me! Why didn't I think of that?"

He smirked, then turned and walked down the hallway. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back at her. "You coming? Bathroom's this way."

She looked at Johnny. He shrugged and started after Tom.

She sighed. "Coming."

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom feeling considerably more human. Her hair was still a tangled mess, but she'd at least managed to get it wet enough to shape it into some semblance of tameness.

"You ready for some breakfast?" Johnny asked. He was the only one there.

"Where'd Tom go?"

"To talk to Richard. He's pretty angry over Clint's behavior." He led the way down the hall.

"Is Tom always so..."

"Grouchy?"

She'd been thinking 'rude' or 'mean,' but that sounded nicer. "Yeah."

"He's just brusque." He paused. "I'm afraid we haven't made a very good impression. Things aren't always so off-kilter here, not even with new arrivals. The knowledge that the rock has been found has sent us into a bit of an uproar."

"Because there's supposed to be a warrior."

"There is a warrior. He's out there somewhere, but our only way of finding him is Sierra. You see why it's crucial that we locate her immediately."

At least he had the decency not to make another comment about her being Sierra. "Patrick said the warrior will destroy all your enemies."

Johnny smiled. "According to scholars, yes. That is, the prophecy itself doesn't specify the role of the warrior, but researchers and experts have studied the wording and concluded that this is the purpose of the warrior, to rectify the wrongs against Deunai's followers."

The thought twisted her stomach. "So he's going to kill people."

"They've been killing us. For centuries now, when they find us, they kill us. This isn't about a murderous rampage; it's about defeating those enemies to end this slaughter."

"That doesn't even make sense." Jaq shook her head. "I'm sorry, but who is 'they,' exactly? People with different beliefs? All the temples teach that it's fine for people to worship at other temples. They might disagree about what they believe, but they don't fight or kill anyone for believing differently. So why would they kill you guys?"

Johnny stopped and looked at her. "Deunai's not like the 'gods' in the temples out there. He's real, the only true God. They persecute us because we have the truth, and they don't want us sharing it with others. As long as people keep going to their temples with all their false gods, giving them money, they stay happy. They say that any religion is acceptable, but that only applies to the religions they like."

"Who is 'they'?"

"The Observers."

Right. The conspiracy theory. She turned to resume walking, but realized she didn't have the first idea of which way they were going.

"The leaders from all the major temples established the Observers to watch for and destroy any threats. You might have heard of a big, flashy new temple being made a few years ago, something called Kinnel?"

Jaq nodded.

"Do you know if it's still in business?"

"I don't really follow religious news."

"Have you ever been to the East Carvon Mall?"

"Yeah."

Johnny resumed walking. "That's where the Kinnel Temple was being built. The Observers examined the teachings of Kinnel and concluded they were excessively controversial. The temple was half-completed, then suddenly all work ceased. The followers of Kinnel vanished overnight. Less than a week later, work resumed, only now it was on the new mall. No one asked questions. No one investigated. It was like it never happened. The Observers make sure that the only religions are the ones they find acceptable, and the only temples are the ones they approve."

She remained silent for a moment, searching her mind for any memories relating to that temple. All she remembered was a couple of classmates gushing about the new temple setting up in town, but she hadn't heard anything after that.

"I still don't understand why these Observers are after you just for teaching that what you believe is right and others are wrong," she finally said. "What's so bad about your beliefs that they're killing people over it? Are there human sacrifices or something?" She said it as a joke while hoping with all her might that he would say no.

"No, no human sacrifices. Not in the traditional sense, anyway." He opened a door leading into a large room humming with conversation and gestured her in.

Jaq stayed put. "What do you mean, not in the traditional sense?"

"Simply that we do not kill people, but we do give ourselves up in order to serve."

"Oh." She hesitated a moment longer, still not entirely getting it, but finally shook her head and stepped into the room. It was filled with cheap tables and plastic chairs. People crowded the room, eating at the tables or standing in line for food at the far wall.

Johnny led her over to the food line. "I imagine you're accustomed to temples that require some sort of paid sacrifice in order to make the god happy and get what you want. Most temples work that way; those are the type the Observers approve. Deunai doesn't want some meaningless trinket. He wants His followers to give themselves fully to Him. When they obey His commands, He blesses them."

"And if they don't?"

"Well, there are consequences that come with disobedience."

They reached the front of the line. Jaq watched as food was dropped onto her plate, then mumbled a quick thanks to the server. "So... your god is happy when you do whatever he says, and if you don't, he what, starts with the lightning bolts?"

He frowned. "I didn't say that. He rewards those who serve Him, and when people turn their backs on Him, they are punished."

"Right. Just like I said."

"Excuse me," a plump woman said from behind Jaq. "I couldn't help overhearing. If you don't mind, I think I can help."

Johnny looked relieved. "Yes, thank you, Lisa. This is Jaq, and I think perhaps she would benefit from a more feminine point of view."

Jaq bristled, but before she could say anything, Lisa was already talking.

"It's got nothing to do with feminine or masculine, and everything to do with talking like a human instead of a dictionary." She smiled at Jaq. "Pleasure to meet you, honey. Come on over and have a seat."

"Thanks." Jaq smiled, finding herself liking the woman instantly.

The three of them sat down, and Lisa launched into it as they ate.

"What Johnny was trying to say and failing miserably is that other religions treat sacrifices like a vending machine. You put in your sacrifice, and the god gives you something you want. If you want something bigger, you put in a bigger sacrifice. There isn't any real mind behind any of it—it's like a machine, drop in your coins, press the button, and get what you want."

Jaq smiled at the mental image. "Right."

"So then who's in control? The people or the god?"

She paused.

"You see it?" Lisa smiled. "The gods served in those temples are pretty easily manipulated, or so the temple leaders teach. If all you have to do to get what you want is buy a little gift. The ultimate cheap date, if it's not too crass for me to call it that."

"Perhaps a little—" Johnny started.

"But Deunai's nothing like a vending machine. That's part of the reason people don't like Him. They want a god they can control. A vending machine. Deunai's more like a daddy."

Jaq's eyebrows shifted upward. "A daddy?"

"Sure thing, honey. Think about it. Did your daddy care about you? Love you? Make sure you had everything you needed?"

"Of course."

Lisa leaned back in her seat, folding her hands over her belly. "Did he give you everything you asked for, right when you asked for it?"

"No." Jaq's mind clicked through connections. "He wouldn't have been a good father if he had."

"Exactly. Deunai knows what's best for us, and He makes sure that's what happens. And sometimes that means saying no when we ask for things, or giving us something we didn't really want right then."

"And what about punishing people?"

"Don't tell me you never got in trouble with your daddy." She smiled again. "When you obeyed your daddy and did what he said, then you got rewards, right? And when you disobeyed, there were consequences. But if your daddy was a good daddy, then he wasn't severe in his consequences. He made sure the punishment fit the crime, and he never stopped loving you or taking care of your needs, even through the punishment. See it now?"

"I guess." Jaq toyed with her food. "So you believe that Deunai knows what's best."

"He always does, honey. We just have to trust Him, and later down the line we always see that He was right all along."

"So how do you know what He wants? Does He have a speaker?"

"You're thinking of other religions," Johnny said. "It's long been tradition for temples to keep a speaker for their god around; it makes it easier for the Observers to insert new teachings as required in order keep control over—"

"Deunai's had something like that in the past, special people He talked through," Lisa interrupted. "But we have His teachings, with the words from those people. And more than that, He nudges us toward the things He wants us doing."

The weirdness alarm went off in Jaq's head again. "Nudges?"

"Ever go to do something and feel that heavy ball in your chest, and you just know that's the wrong thing to do?"

She remembered that feeling clearly. She'd been eight. Ama had visited with one of her incredible pecan pies, and she'd snuck into the kitchen to steal a few bites. The feeling of guilt had been so horrible that she confessed before anyone even discovered what had happened. That was the last time she'd deliberately broken any rules.

"That's Deunai telling you not to do it. And sometimes we feel something strong like we should do something, and that's when Deunai's nudging us toward it." Lisa nodded toward Johnny. "Johnny here got a nudging to live up top, in the safe houses, to help find other Onve and get them to safety. It's dangerous work, but he obeyed Deunai. As I hear it, that's a pretty good thing for you."

Jaq took another bite and leaned back, thinking as she chewed. This was the strangest religion she'd ever heard of.

"There you are." Tom dropped into the chair next to Johnny.

"Tom! I'd heard you were visiting," Lisa said, beaming. "How've you been?"

"Still alive." He grabbed a piece of toast off Johnny's plate. "Richard said he talked with Clint, and Clint promised to back off. So he just let the guy go."

"Clint? What's going on with Clint?" Lisa asked.

Johnny pushed his glasses up. "You told him about this morning?"

"No, it slipped my mind." Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. He said he'd talk to Clint again." He munched on the toast, his eyes dark. "He's not going to do a thing about it."

"I don't know what you boys are talking about, but Clint's been pretty important around here for a while now," Lisa said. "When Derek left, Clint was the one who figured out what was going on and got the alterations put in the sewer system before Derek could lead anyone to us. He caught and stopped three other near-breaches after that." She leaned forward. "There been some sort of trouble?"

"Idiot's got it in his head that she's some sort of spy," Tom said, jerking a thumb in Jaq's direction.

"He's been harassing her," Johnny added. "To excess."

Tom snorted. "That's putting it lightly."

"So you don't think Richard's going to do anything about it?" Jaq asked. Her stomach suddenly lost interest in the last few bites of food on her plate. She pushed it aside and rested her elbows on the table so she could see around Johnny.

"If he didn't last night, he's not going to today." Tom glanced at her. "You're just going to have to use your head and be careful. Don't go wandering anywhere Clint might find you alone."

"Which is where?" Jaq looked around. "The whole base? This place is like a maze or something!"

"Excellent point." Johnny shoved his glasses. "Since you are still disoriented here, then either I or Tom will remain with you as an escort. That way, if you do encounter Clint, you won't be alone, and we can send him on his way for you."

Tom eyed Johnny, then leaned to look at Jaq. "You'd better stick with me."

"What? I'm certainly capable of protecting her from Clint," Johnny protested.

Tom raised an eyebrow and snorted.

"I am!"

"I'm sure you're both fine for the job," Lisa interrupted. "I'm just surprised to hear Clint's acting that way. He's always taken security seriously, but harassment? That just doesn't sound like him."

"Well, it is him." Tom finished the toast and stood. "You coming?"

Jaq realized that she wasn't as put off by his rudeness as she had been before. Must be getting desensitized. She picked up her plate. "Where's this go?"

"I'll show you," Johnny said. He shoveled the last couple bites of food in his mouth, then led her to a counter near the food table where they dropped off their dishes.

"Everyone takes turns helping in the kitchen," he said as they walked back to the door. "People who can't cook, like Tom, help by washing dishes. After a couple weeks, they'll put you in the rotation."

Jaq stopped short. "I thought this was just a short-term thing. Just to keep me safe until we find Sierra."

"We've had people trying to find Sierra for years now. It's not going to happen overnight."

Her chest tightened. "I thought this would just be a day, a few days max."

"Is that what you thought?" Johnny frowned.

Tom spoke from behind her. "You really think those guys will stop looking for you after just a couple days?"

Thoughts of men like Agent Clark and Elias burned through her mind. Her chest squeezed even more. That was her choice? Be stuck underground forever or be stuck with people like that?

Her breath caught, alerting her to the need for air. She balled her fist. No, she wasn't going to have another panic attack. Tom would just pick on her for letting her fear get to her. She closed her eyes. I'm not letting it mess with my head. I can breathe.

"It's still messing with you," Tom said. Her eyes were still closed, but she could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "Yeah, well, I'd like to see you have people trying to kidnap you and hurt you when you haven't even done anything, and then be told that you have to either put up with those people or hide out underground for the rest of your life, all because of some girl that you met once and know nothing about—"

"Jaq," Johnny interrupted. "Tom knows more about that than you think." He paused. "Except for the part about being mistaken for a girl. I don't think he's ever run into that."

She stopped as Johnny's statement sank in. "You mean, you..." She stared at Tom. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It's life. Are we going, or are we standing around talking?" With that, he walked through the door.

Jaq quickly followed; despite Johnny's insistence that he could handle Clint, she preferred to stay close to Tom. She sighed, then paused. Her chest wasn't tight anymore. Whether it was due to her determination not to let it get to her or Tom's annoying commentary, she wasn't sure. Either way, she inwardly celebrated the victory.

But that still left her with the real problem—having to choose between psychotic kidnappers hunting her down up on the surface, or being stuck underground for who knows how long. Possibly years.

The thought made her shudder. She wasn't going to let that happen. If these people hadn't found Sierra within a couple days, she would leave and risk her chances against the psychos.

She had no other choice.

Chapter 11

"Don't worry," Johnny said, startling her from her thoughts. "You'll get used to it down here. I bet you've already learned some of your way around."

She almost laughed out loud at that. "Not even close. All these hallways look the same."

"Then we must remedy the situation and commence the grand tour," he declared. "We'll start from the guest quarters. This way." He turned down a side hallway and marched along importantly.

Tom slowed and watched him for a moment, then shook his head. "Might as well follow him. He'll never shut up about it if we don't."

The tour was painfully long and less than helpful as each hallway blended into the next. Jaq caught that the guest quarters were mostly surrounded by offices and meeting rooms, and that there were some recreational areas not far from there, but the rest was just a jumbled mess of white hallways and doors. The only section that distinguished itself was the hallway with the schoolrooms and children's play room, and that was only because it was the noisiest hallway in the base.

The tour lasted through lunchtime and almost to dinner time. By the time Tom and Johnny led her through the labyrinth back to the cafeteria to join Lisa for dinner, she'd given up entirely on learning the layout of the base.

She hadn't given up on the thought of not spending the rest of her life underground, however. "So what are you doing to find Sierra?"

"What haven't we done?" Tom folded his arms. "We've researched records, tracked down people who worked for the adoption agency, scanned ID databases, hired private investigators—everything."

"We had hoped that she would seek us out now that the rock has been found," Johnny added. "But if her memory was also erased, that would be unlikely."

"Isn't there something else you can do?" she pressed.

Tom glanced at her. "What would you suggest? Put up flyers? Or maybe just call up the Enforcers and ask nicely?"

She gave him a look. "Of course not. But there must be something else, some other way to track her down."

"Go for it. Good luck."

"We really have exhausted every possible option," Johnny said. "At this point, all we can do is maintain vigilance."

"And trust Deunai," Lisa added. "He knows what He's doing. He'll make sure we find her when the time is right."

"The rock's been found," Tom said. "Kind of a clear indication that the time is right."

Lisa frowned at him. "That means the warrior's alive somewhere. It doesn't mean he's ready to take his role yet. All I'm saying is, Deunai has always made sure things came together at the right time in the past. We have no reason to believe He'll do any different now."

* * *

The nightmare returned again that night, only this time, Jaq found herself standing near the hill, watching as an outsider while the little girl climbed the tree. She found herself holding her breath even though she already knew what would happen—the rock would appear, and Sierra would fall. Still, the little girl's terrified screams pierced her. She covered her ears.

But the screaming stopped. Jaq looked to see a giant woman, towering higher than the tree itself, catch the little girl in her hand. The woman looked around, then carefully slid Sierra into a cage. As the key turned in the lock, the child vanished.

"No!" Jaq shouted, her voice echoing back to her. "You can't take her! I need her!"

The woman ignored her.

Jaq ran toward the woman. "Stop! Let her go!" She reached the giant's shoe and pounded on it with both fists. "You have to let her go!"

The woman stepped back, startled at the fuss near her feet, and bent lower to stare.

Jaq's breath caught as she stared full into Ama's face.

Gasping, Jaq startled awake. She stared at the ceiling with sweat dripping from her forehead. She hadn't been the little girl being attacked this time, but for whatever reason, this dream had been even more terrifying than the other.

But it was just a dream. She closed her eyes and rubbed her face. That was all. Just a dream.

Something inside her clung to the dream in spite of her attempts at reassurance. No. There was something more to it. This was more than just a dream.

The longer she lay there, the more she tried to dismiss it, the stronger that sense became. There was something important, crucial even, about that dream.

She had to find Tom or Johnny.

The hallways had never seemed so long and confusing. She dashed down one after another, searching for any signs of people or indications that she was even going the right way. There had to be a guard somewhere—anywhere—someone who could help find the guys.

Jaq turned an umpteenth corner and ran squarely into someone solid, sending her tumbling to the floor.

"Sorry!" She struggled back to her feet and caught a glimpse of uniform. A guard, finally. "Please, I need to find Tom. Or Johnny. Or both. I have to talk to them right away. Can you help?" Her speech was as disjointed and racing as her thoughts. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

The guard turned to face her, dusting himself off.

Clint.

His eyes narrowed. "You!"

She nearly choked on her gasp. Putting both hands up, she took half a step back. "I just want to find Tom or Johnny. I'm not trying anything, really, I promise." A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her cheek. She wiped it away, realizing that between the panting, the frenetic talking, and the sweat, she probably looked like she was high on something.

He sized her up. "You're sure in a hurry."

"Yes!" Relief washed over her. "Yes, because it's really important that I find them. Please, can you help me?"

He grabbed her shoulder and shoved her into the wall. "Where is it?"

"What?"

"The bomb! Or toxins—whatever it is they sent you to plant!" He shoved again, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. "Tell me where you put it!"

The hallway swayed around her. "I—I didn't do anything! I just need to find someone!"

The swing came without warning. His fist slammed into her stomach, knocking her into the wall a third time. Pain exploded throughout her body. She crumpled, gasping for air.

His fingers dug into her arm, yanking her upright. "Tell me! Now!"

She coughed, clinging to her wounded belly with her free arm. Her legs wobbled. "I... I didn't..." The words were barely a whisper.

Another blow. She fell again, struggling to get a clear thought through the haze of pain.

Only one came: run.

She pushed herself away from the wall. Struggled to stand. Her legs gave way, and she landed painfully on her knees.

"Where do you think you're going?" His fingers bit her arm again.

She couldn't even see straight. She lashed out blindly, fighting to ignore the crippling pain tearing through her system. Her leg hit something. Clint grunted in pain.

Jaq twisted herself back to her knees and struggled forward. Had to get away. Had to find help.

It was a kick this time. All she knew was an explosion of white behind her eyes followed by a dim awareness that she was on the floor again. She tried to push herself up, but her limbs refused to obey. She couldn't feel anything anymore.

"Treacherous snake!" Clint shouted. He kicked a second time. "Tell me where it is!"

Darkness fogged the hallway. She coughed and tasted copper.

"Clint!" Footsteps ran closer. "What do you think you're doing?"

A shadowy form bent over her. Lifted her head. "What did you do?"

The other guard. Michael. She tried to speak, but her body wouldn't cooperate.

"She's sabotaged this base," Clint hissed. He grabbed her and yanked her up again. "Tell me where it is!"

"Stop it!" Michael pulled her free. "Are you nuts?"

She didn't hear Clint's response. The fog in the hallway darkened until there was nothing.

* * *

Jaq looked at the small, peaceful village down the hill, watching as small children ran around, laughing as they chased each other. The soft grass she sat on swayed in the warm caress of a breeze. A bird whistled, calling her attention to the tree above her. The climbing tree. She could see several brightly-colored armbands flapping on the branches.

Someone was standing behind her. She turned and looked up into his kind face. It was the same man that had saved her when she was with Agent Clark. He smiled and held his hand out to her. She took it and let him help her to her feet.

"Who are you?"

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound.

Something tugged at her mind, something about how all the strange things that had been going on revolved around this Deunai that these people believed in. Something about the conversations she'd had with Johnny and Lisa about Deunai. Something about the paternal affection in the man's eyes as he stood before her.

She pushed the thoughts aside. "I never got to thank you. By the time it was all over, you'd left."

"I was still there."

His voice was as rich and warm as everything else about him. She felt as though she'd spent her life looking at fake people, plastic models, and was just now meeting someone real for the first time.

"I didn't see you." She was staring, she realized. She glanced away. Heat warmed her cheeks. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you."

"You're welcome."

She was staring again. Somehow, though, it didn't seem rude or inappropriate here. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why?" She blushed again. "I mean, why is all this happening to me? Why do all these people think I'm someone special?"

"You are someone special."

Not this again. "I'm not Sierra."

"Oh?"

"I'm not!" She took a deep breath. "I don't know who she is, but everyone has her confused with me. But I'm not anyone special. I'm just..." She searched her mind, then sighed. "Just Jaq."

He lifted her chin. "To me, 'just Jaq' is still very special."

"Special as in special needs, you mean."

He laughed. "No."

She turned away and found herself facing the tree. "Even supposing that I was her... hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Of course."

"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what these people want from me." She paced. "I don't know any warriors, and I sure don't want to sic some killer on a bunch of people just because they don't believe the same way these Onve do. That's just—yuck. I don't want any part of that. I..." She plopped down on the grass once more. She'd never felt so lost in her life. "I don't know what to do."

He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like the most natural place in the world.

"You don't have to know," he said gently. "I don't expect you to."

"They do. They expect me to find a warrior for them."

"You just might do that. But not right now. They're not ready yet."

She looked up. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see." He gave her a squeeze. "I chose you, Jaq. Are you willing to take your part in what's coming?"

"I..." Her gaze shifted downward. She couldn't do this. She just wasn't capable.

"I know you're scared. But I promise you this: I'll be with you every step of the way."

"I don't know if I can." She took a deep breath and met his gaze once more. "But I'll try."

His smile broadened. "That's all I ever ask. And I will give you whatever you need when the time comes."

The smile seemed to ignite warmth on the hill, as though the sun had just been turned on for the first time. Jaq's fears melted away. "Thank you." She leaned on him again and closed her eyes, feeling for the first time in days like everything was going to be all right.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Jaq opened her eyes and stared at a white, blank ceiling above her. She was on a cot. A couple of wires and tubes led from her body to a machine beside the cot. It beeped steadily in time with her heartbeat.

It was only a dream. The realization came with disappointment instead of relief. At least it hadn't been the nightmare this time. Still, of all the dreams she'd had, why couldn't this be the one that returned every night?

She shook the thoughts off and sat up. Her stomach and arm protested mildly with a dull, residual ache. Memories of Clint's attack drifted back with the twinge. She lifted her shirt and looked at the fading bruises on her stomach. How long had she been unconscious? The injuries were anything but fresh.

She stretched her arm, feeling the stiffness gradually fade. She must've been in there for some time.

Ama.

She jerked upright and looked around, searching for a call button. There was a reason she'd run into Clint in that hallway, and the same sense of urgency she'd felt then gripped her now.

The door swung open, and Lisa stepped in, a steaming cup in hand. She gasped. "Oh! You're awake!"

"I need to talk to Tom and Johnny," Jaq blurted. "Where are they?"

Lisa scurried to her side. "Slow down there, honey. The doctor's going to want to look at you. You—" The older woman paused, peering at Jaq's face. Her tone became puzzled. "You look a lot better."

"I should, after all this time. How do I call the doctor? Can I talk to Tom and Johnny while the doctor looks at me? I have to talk to them right away!"

Lisa was still staring.

Frustration rose. Why did everyone seem so oblivious to how crucial this was? "Then tell me where they are so I can go get them! I had this dream, and I had to talk to them right away, and that was..." She paused. "How many nights ago? How long was I out?"

"Nights?" Lisa shook her head. "It's only been a couple hours, honey. Tom and Johnny are meeting with Richard. They didn't want to leave your side, but I told them I'd keep an eye on you here. That was just..." She looked down at her coffee. "I mean, the doctor said it'd be a while, and... You look... different."

"A couple hours? But how could... That doesn't..." Words failed.

Lisa set her cup down on a stool beside Jaq's cot. "Let me go get the doctor."

The doctor, a stringy man in his mid-fifties named Amos, wouldn't stop scratching his head as he examined her. "Shouldn't be seeing this yet. No, too early. Hmm."

Jaq tried to sit through it all patiently, but annoyance added to her frustration until it all boiled over. "What? What's going on?"

He stared at her for a moment, then looked at her stomach for the umpteenth time. "Looks more like a couple weeks' worth of healing here. Just doesn't make a whole lot of sense."

The dream slid back to the front of Jaq's mind, but she dismissed the thought. No matter how nice it may be, it was impossible for dreams to affect reality like that.

The door flew open. Johnny rushed in, followed by Tom.

"We heard she's—" Johnny stopped, staring at Jaq. "Awake! How do you feel? Should she be sitting up like that?"

Tom brushed past Johnny, his focus on Amos. "How is she?"

"Fine." Disbelief colored the doctor's tone. "I'd say she's ready to walk out of here."

"I have to talk to Ama," Jaq broke in. "I need you to take me back up."

"You're not in any condition to..." Johnny stared at the doctor. "You would? That isn't possible!"

"You said she wouldn't be up for at least a week," Tom said, his eyes narrow.

"Can't explain it myself," Amos replied.

"Would you listen to me?" Jaq demanded. "I have to talk to Ama!"

Tom turned his narrow gaze to her. "Richard wants to hear your version of what happened. Clint claims he found you sneaking around the hallways, and you attacked him when he tried to stop you."

Jaq gaped. "And you believe that?"

He snorted. "No."

"We explained the matter to him as precisely as we could," Johnny added, "including how Clint has continued his harassment and your inability to defend yourself in previous encounters, but he still requires your statement before judging matters."

Jaq bristled, but Tom was already talking again. "What exactly were you doing so far from your room, anyway?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" She took a deep breath. "I need to talk to Ama right away. So either take me up to her or get me a safe phone or whatever you people use, now!"

The room fell silent.

Johnny blinked a couple of times. "I, that is, it's not possible to—"

Tom waved a hand, cutting him off. It was hard to read the expression on his face. Amusement? "Why do you need to talk to her?"

"I think..." Jaq hesitated, then tried again. "I'm sure she knows something she hasn't told me. Something to do with Sierra."

"What makes you think that?"

"I had a dream." The words sounded lame even to her ears. She turned to Johnny. "It was probably my subconscious trying to tell me something. That happens in dreams sometimes, right?" Back to Tom. "Besides, it makes sense that she might know something. If I met Sierra at the adoption agency, then Ama might have run into her there, too. She knows something. We have to find out what it is!"

"I suppose it may be possible, though incredibly rare, for the subconscious to attempt communication in that manner," Johnny mused. "But really, in this case, isn't it more likely that it was merely a dream? Our brains compile all sorts of imagery and senses as—"

"We'll talk to Richard," Tom interrupted. "You can tell him what happened, and we'll ask about getting in contact with your ama at the same time."

The sense of urgency finally relaxed. "Thank you."

He shrugged. "We'll see what Richard says. Doc, you said she's clear to go?"

Amos scratched his head again. "Long as she takes it easy. And checks back in with me later today."

"Good. Let's go."

Chapter 12

Richard listened to Jaq's side of the story with only a few interruptions to ask questions. She'd tried to start by asking him about talking to Ama, but he'd insisted that they talk about Clint first.

Part of her wanted to forget the whole thing had ever happened, the same way her body apparently had. Even though the attack had only been a couple hours ago, it felt like a distant memory already. It was as if the dream had fully eclipsed the trauma, both emotionally and physically.

She again dispelled the notion as quickly as it came. The thought was ridiculous, and she already had enough ridiculous surrounding her. Besides, contacting Ama was way more important. As the discussion about Clint dragged on, the sense of urgency returned and grew.

"It looks like your story lines up." Richard sighed.

Tom gave him a look. "Don't sound so excited."

"Understand that this is difficult for me. Clint's been loyal for many years, and has saved our lives numerous occasions. It's a shock to discover that he's become so unhinged."

"Took you long enough to figure it out."

Richard straightened. "I'm still in charge of this base, Tom. And I don't appreciate—"

"Please may I call Ama?" Jaq burst out.

The men stopped and stared.

Her cheeks warmed. "Sorry. Go back to arguing."

Richard cleared his throat and adjusted his weight in the chair. "Pardon me. I'd forgotten there was another matter you wished to address."

"She's quite certain that her ama has information about Sierra," Johnny said.

"And what makes you think that?"

Jaq felt her cheeks warm even more, but she took a deep breath and plunged in anyway, explaining as best as she could.

"So you're sure that your ama knows something because you had a dream?" Richard asked.

"She does have a point about the subconscious." Johnny shoved his glasses. "It may not necessarily be the case, but it is technically possible for—"

"And if she really did meet Sierra at the adoption agency, then it could be that her ama also met Sierra." Tom leaned back. "I think it's worth a trip up top."

Jaq smiled, grateful for his support.

Richard rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. "Keep it brief. And maintain vigilance."

"We know the drill." Tom stood. "We'll let you know as soon as we find anything."

As the three of them walked through the base back to the elevator, Jaq felt a growing eagerness. As much as she appreciated the safety of the base, she couldn't wait to be away from the oppressive walls.

When they reached the elevator, though, her feelings took a sudden swing. She slowed down as images of Elias filled her mind. "Maybe I could just call her. I could do that, right?"

"Not from here," Tom said, opening the elevator. "No lines to anywhere on the surface but the safe houses."

"Which are off the network," Johnny added unnecessarily.

She stared at the open elevator. It would be okay. They were only going up for a short time. And besides, she was supposed to be happy about this. Getting out of the cramped base. This was a good thing.

Tom leaned closer to her. "I won't let them get you."

She looked up at him, startled.

He held a hand out to her. "Let's go."

She hesitated a moment longer, then took his hand and entered the elevator.

* * *

The trip through the sewers was as hair-raising as the last time. Jaq squeezed her eyes shut tighter with every bounce and jolt.

"Watch it!" Johnny suddenly shouted.

The bike skidded.

Jaq screeched, clinging tighter until everything stopped moving.

"Hey," Tom grunted. He tugged at her arms. "Ease up."

She tested the air with a cautious breath and determined that she was still alive. It took a concentrated effort to relax her arms and pry her eyes open. They were parked on a particularly shaky walkway only a short distance from a large metal wall.

"Sorry," Johnny said. He pushed at his glasses. "We should've turned left back there. I forgot they'd sealed this part off to keep Derek from leading the Observers to the base."

"Derek?" she asked. "He's the guy that made Clint all paranoid, right?"

Tom stood and turned the bike around. "He ditched us. Decided to lead the Observers to us. So the guys in the base set up this wall. When Derek tried to bring the Observers through here, it looked like he'd just brought them to a dead end."

"It hasn't stopped the Observers from trying to find us, but on the rare occasions that they locate a way into the sewers, we simply seal that section off." Johnny struggled to rotate his bike.

Tom revved his engine. Jaq instinctively gripped him once more just as he released the brake and raced off down the trembling walkway, Johnny right behind them.

The ride was shorter this time, but just as harrowing. When they finally came to a stop, she scrambled off the bike and clung to the walkway's railing.

Tom snorted. "Wanna lose a hand?"

The platform began to rise; the railing didn't. She quickly let go and stepped back toward the bike, holding onto it for balance.

The basement they arrived in looked just like the one at Johnny's safe house, complete with stacks of metal crates. Tom took the dumbwaiter first to make sure the house was clear, then sent it back down for Johnny and Jaq.

"The Observers will still be watching your ama's house. We'll have to call her," Tom said as he helped Jaq climb out of the tiny elevator. The safe house seemed larger than Johnny's, but the look was similar—bare and utilitarian with a lot of thick curtains.

"We can't call her from here, though," Johnny added.

"I remember." Jaq looked around. "So where can we call her?"

"There should be a public access phone within a few blocks of here."

"But won't they trace it?"

"You'll have to keep it short so they won't have enough time." Tom walked into the kitchen, pulled open a drawer, and took out a set of car keys. "Let's go."

They found a public access phone within just a few blocks, as Tom predicted. The men hovered nearby as Jaq dialed her ama's number.

"Hello?" Ama answered.

Tears flooded Jaq's eyes without warning. She turned her back toward the men. "Ama?"

"Jaq! Is everything all right? How's Gerren? Do you need anything?"

Her chest tightened at the reminder of her lie. "I'm sorry I took off like that. I just... I just needed to get away."

"You're not in any trouble?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat and lied once more. "No. Don't worry, Ama. Everything's okay. I need to ask you something about when I was adopted."

"I already told you, I don't know how to get in touch with anyone from the agency."

"No, I need to know if you met or talked to or saw another girl there. She would've been about the same age as me, maybe a little younger."

"I didn't meet anyone there but you, sweetheart. Of course, your parents were the ones there most of the time. They only brought me along for the final adoption ceremony."

Jaq deflated. This couldn't be right. Ama had to know something. She just had to. "But maybe you saw someone in the hallway? Or overheard someone talking about another girl being adopted?"

"I'm sorry, but no." Ama paused. "The trouble you were having—it has something to do with your adoption?"

"Sort of." She closed her eyes. "I know Mom and Dad had my memory erased."

The line remained silent.

"Ama? Are you still there?"

"I—how did you hear about that?"

"I heard a lot of people were doing that back then. I can't remember anything before my adoption. I put two and two together." Technically, Johnny had, but Ama didn't need that detail.

"Have you been having nightmares again?"

Jaq stopped short. "What do you mean, again?"

"Your mom and dad never liked that whole surgery idea. Thought it was a lot of rot. But those nightmares—you'd wake up screaming, shaking all over in terror. Nothing they tried made it any better. You had such frightened eyes all the time those first few weeks." Ama sighed. "They finally decided the best thing for you was to make it all go away."

Her fingers tightened on the phone. "What were the nightmares about?" This had to be it, the thing that Ama knew. She must have told Ama something from the nightmares—some clue that would lead them to Sierra.

"You never said. Too scared to talk about it, poor little dear."

Another deflate. "So they had my memory erased."

"Well...." Ama paused again. "You said you were having nightmares again?"

"Yes."

"They said this might happen. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"What?" Jaq clung to the phone as if she could squeeze out the answers she needed. "Please, Ama, this is really important. Who said that? What did they say?"

"I didn't think much of the idea of erasing memories, either. I told your mom and dad, everyone's got something in their past they don't like, but it's part of what makes them who they are. They thought you were suffering so much with all that fear, it'd be best to erase those memories altogether, but I talked them into a different procedure. One that only blocks the memories instead of erasing them."

She could barely breathe. "My memories are still there?"

"The doctors said you might start finding them again someday, and your mom and dad were worried about that, but I told them we could help you through whatever that fear was when the time came, if it happened at all. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean for you to go through all this. I just wanted to protect you. We all did."

Tom tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to wrap it up.

She nodded and turned her body closer to the phone. "Can it be reversed? Is there a way to get them back?"

"I can't say I know." Another pause. "Are you going to be okay? Do you want to come home? I can take you to a doctor to talk about this. I want to help you."

Tears again snaked free. "I... Thank you, but I think I'll..." Jaq swallowed. "I'll find a doctor here to talk to. In Gerren. Thank you for telling me this, Ama. It was exactly what I needed to know."

"Of course, little darling. I'm so sorry you had to go through all this. Let me know if you need anything at all. And call again. I want to hear how things go in Gerren."

Jaq closed her eyes. She couldn't do this. She just couldn't. "I'm not in Gerren."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Sweetheart, you haven't been able to lie to me since that day you snitched my pie. You just make sure you stay safe, wherever you are. And you come home as soon as you can."

The tears flowed unhindered now. "I will. I promise."

"And let me know if you need me to call that nice Agent Ackerson for you."

Jaq glanced over her shoulder. Tom had moved back to Johnny's side, keeping a respectful distance. At her look, he again motioned for her to finish up. She turned her back on them and spoke quieter. "Not now. But I'll let you know if it comes to that."

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, too. I'll call you later." Jaq hung up quickly and pulled herself together, wiping her eyes and forcing her breathing back under control.

"So, what'd she say?" Johnny demanded. He let out an oof as Tom elbowed him in the ribs.

It took her another moment before she could trust herself to speak. "I may be able to get my memories back."

Johnny shook his head and shoved his glasses into place. "That's impossible. Memory erasures are permanent. Even if it was possible to physically reconnect the neurons, the brain's ability to utilize them is damaged. There's no way to recover those memories."

"They weren't erased." Jaq turned to face them. "They were blocked."

"Blocked?" Tom frowned.

She explained to them what Ama said. "That's why I'm having the nightmares. My memories are starting to come back, like the doctors said might happen. I'm remembering what Sierra told me when we were both in the adoption agency."

"I've never heard of such a thing. I suppose, technically, there would be temporary measures to decrease access, but... No, it would have to be..." Johnny wrinkled his face. "But then you'd have to deal with... that can't be it. They must've... no..."

"We'll talk to Amos. He might know." Tom climbed back in the car.

Jaq looked back at the phone. It was just a common public access phone, but she suddenly felt like it was her last connection to the real world—to her ama, her school, her life.

"Come on," Tom called. Johnny climbed into the backseat.

She sighed and turned away from the phone. She'd be back. As soon as she had her memories back, as soon as she helped them find Sierra and proved once and for all she wasn't who they thought she was... Then she'd be back.

As she reached for the door handle, a sleek ETC squealed around the corner, the outside tires nearly lifting off the track.

"Get in!" Johnny cried, waving frantically. Tom started the car with a roar.

Jaq stared at the oncoming car. Her muscles froze as she saw the driver. Elias? It couldn't be. Not here. Not now.

Chapter 13

"Get in!" Tom thundered. He shoved her door open. It hit her leg, startling her out of her shock. She scrambled into the car.

Tom took off before she even had a chance to pull the door shut behind her. She yelped and struggled to pull herself upright in her seat.

"Come on, faster!" Johnny shouted, twisting around to watch the car behind them. "Faster!"

Tom swerved onto a side street. Jaq's door swung wide, and the force of the turn pulled her toward it. She clutched her seat, but felt her fingers slipping.

Tom's fingers wrapped around her arm, keeping her firmly in place through the turn. "Shut the door!"

"I will if you give me a chance!"

The car completed the turn, and the pull against her ceased. She quickly grabbed the door handle and yanked it shut, then reached for her seatbelt.

Elias slammed into them from behind. Jaq's head smacked into the dashboard, sending flares of white pain through her vision.

"Faster!" Johnny shrieked.

Tom gunned the engine as he pushed Jaq back into her seat. "Come on!" he barked. "Get your seatbelt on, now!"

Dazed, she fumbled with the strap.

Elias bumped them again, rattling her position. The collision was less jarring this time, though, and she was able to keep her seat.

"Now!"

Her head slowly cleared as she straightened in her seat and clicked her seatbelt into place.

Tom took another corner, hard. The car whined as it lost connection with the track briefly, then dropped back into place as they completed the turn. Jaq clutched her seat, her knuckles paling.

"He missed the turn!" Johnny reported. "Take that left up there."

Tom spun to the right.

"Left, I said!" Johnny hollered. "That's a dead end!"

"I know." Tom slowed down and eased off the track into a driveway, then slid off the driveway to park behind a large bush.

"He's going to—"

"Shut up," Tom said, twisting in his seat to watch the road behind them.

Jaq still clung to her seat, her eyes glued to the intersection. If Elias came down the street after them, they'd be cornered.

The roar of an engine accelerated from the street. The sleek ETC shot through the intersection. And turned left.

Johnny let out the breath he'd been holding. "How'd you know?"

"He'd have known this is a dead end." Tom waited a minute longer, then quietly eased the car back onto the track. He set off on a twisty route back to the safe house.

"He wouldn't go after Ama, would he?" Jaq asked.

"Not unless he thought it'd get him to you." Tom cast her a sideways glance. "You didn't tell her where you were, right?"

"Of course not."

"The Observers must have improved their call-tracing technology," Johnny said. "They're able to track down locations significantly faster than before."

"So what's that mean?"

"You can't call your ama again," Tom said.

"Not as long they're still looking for you, anyway," Johnny added.

Air rushed from her lungs. She couldn't call Ama? Couldn't talk to her again?

As long as Elias was still after her. She straightened, feeling a new sense of purpose. "Right. We need to talk to Amos."

"First thing when we get back," Johnny promised.

"He should look at that head, too," Tom said.

Jaq gingerly explored her forehead and winced when she found a small bump. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Good. We're still getting it looked—"

Tom abruptly broke off and swerved hard, slamming on the brakes.

Elias' car flew straight at them from a side street.

Tom yanked the wheel harder. Elias flew past, barely clipping the front corner. Bounced over the curb. Brakes screeched, but it was too late. His car slammed full on into the front end of a house.

"Go, go!" Johnny shouted, pounding on the back of Tom's seat.

Tom twisted the wheel back around to get the car back on the track.

Elias gunned his engine.

"Come on!"

Elias' car jerked backwards, then stalled. The door flew open. Elias climbed out, red eyes fixed on Jaq.

Her breath caught.

Gears whined. "No, not that," Tom grunted, struggling with the wheel. The car lurched forward a few inches.

Elias limped forward, never blinking. He lifted a gun.

"Come on!" Johnny screeched again.

"Get down!" Tom barked out. He smacked his hand against a few buttons, manually shifted the gear, and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The car lurched again.

Gunfire tore the air. Jaq's window shattered. She screamed and ducked, covering her head.

"Go!"

Tom twisted his leg around and kicked the underside of the driving console, hard. The car sputtered, then roared.

Another gunshot. The windshield cracked.

Tom threw the car in gear and floored it. The tires skidded; the car still hadn't engaged with the electric track.

"Go, go!" Johnny shouted.

Jaq saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up. Elias stood outside her window. He raised the gun.

She screamed.

The car fishtailed briefly before aligning itself. Elias shouted and fired as the car leaped forward, sending the shot wild. They flew down the street, leaving Elias in their dust, firing a couple more wild shots after them.

She couldn't breathe.

Tom took the next corner too fast, nearly losing the track again.

Jaq doubled over in her seat, pressing her head between her knees, and tried to focus. Just breathe. Slowly. Take a breath.

"She's hit!" Johnny screeched.

Her chest released its death grip, and she sucked in air.

Tom reached across the seat and pulled her upright. "Where?"

She shook her head, still focused on breathing. Shock gradually receded, and her thoughts became clear once more.

Tom released her and returned his attention to the road.

Johnny patted her shoulder from the backseat. "Just hang on. We'll be back at the safe house in a few minutes."

"Sooner than that," Tom said, pulling into the driveway.

Johnny yelped. "You can't just go straight to the safe house! You have to take one of the planned routes to make sure no one can track us!"

"Too late for that. He's too good." Tom parked the car in the garage and climbed out. "We have to scratch this house."

Johnny scrambled out. "But—"

"Hold still," Tom said as he opened Jaq's door. He brushed broken glass off her head.

"I'm fine." She picked a few pieces of glass off her lap and turned to get out of the car.

He caught her arms and helped her out, lifting her past some larger pieces of glass. He paused and brushed a few more off her shoulders. "We can't take you anywhere, can we?"

"It's not my fault," she protested, but then saw his teasing smirk. "No, you can't."

* * *

Amos paused in the process of examining Jaq to scratch his head. "Blocked?"

"Yes," Jaq said, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and patient. "We need to know if it's reversible. I have to get those memories back."

"Not sure. Have to do some research on that."

"But you think it might be possible?"

"Not sure."

She felt a sudden urge to scream.

"Don't worry," Johnny said, rubbing at a scrape on his cheek. "After all, if you've already begun to recover some memories, such as the story about the tree, then perhaps the rest will come with time."

"I need them now!"

"The sooner the better," Tom added. "This is our best lead for finding Sierra. Especially if Sierra's memories were wiped, too."

"I'll see what I can find," the doctor promised. He applied one last bandage, then set his tools aside. "Go on and rest. I'll send for you once I find anything."

Jaq wanted to stay and hover over Amos's shoulder, pushing him onward to study harder and faster until he found something, but she reluctantly followed the men out of the office.

Johnny tried to distract her with a long, rambling discussion of how the bases were designed while the hours passed in the cafeteria, but her mind kept wandering, distracted by the roil of conflicting emotions in her stomach.

She wanted this fixed. She wanted her memories back so she could find the real Sierra. There was no question of that. But fear and doubts kept creeping in. What if she got her memories back only to discover that she didn't know anything about Sierra beyond the tree nightmare? What if she couldn't remember enough details for them to find Sierra?

What if she discovered she actually was—

Jaq cut off that thought before it could finish. No. That wasn't possible.

"Hey," a voice said beside her.

She looked up. Saw the brown tones of a guard's uniform. Everything in her instinctively recoiled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Michael said. "It's good to see you up and about."

"Right." She took a deep breath to quiet her racing heart. It wasn't Clint. She was safe. "I remember you stopped him. Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for. I'm sorry he did that to you. I don't know what got into him. I'm glad there wasn't any lasting damage." He glanced at the men. "Anyway, Amos sent me to ask you to meet him in his office."

He hadn't even finished his sentence before Jaq was already on her feet. "Thanks!" she called over her shoulder as she rushed for the door.

She made it almost halfway there before she got lost and had to stop and wait for the men to catch up.

"Relax," Tom said. "He won't start anything without you."

"Very funny. Can we hurry up already?"

Amos met them in the waiting room. "Took some digging, but I found it."

"And it can be reversed? You can fix it?"

"Gotta make sure we have all the right tools, but should be able to."

Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him. The rest of her wanted to throw up.

"Excellent," Johnny declared. "Then it's simply a matter of brief time before we'll have what we need to find Sierra. Or, perhaps, there is a slight possibility that you—"

"Go help the doc check his equipment," Tom interrupted.

"But I—"

"Now."

Johnny turned to Amos. "Allow me to give you a hand."

Once the two had vanished into a back room, Tom turned to Jaq. "You gonna chicken out?"

She frowned at him. "No! I mean, it's not chickening out. We're talking about brain surgery, here. It's normal to be scared."

"So you're chickening out."

"It's not—I'm not—I didn't say—" She blustered for a moment, then wilted. "I know I have to do this. I don't have a choice. Unless I want to spend the rest of my life hiding or looking over my shoulder. I just... I don't know what I'm going to find."

"I'll be with you every step of the way."

"I—what?"

"I said, I'm not leaving your side. I'll be there."

The same words, but from a different man, resonated through her mind. The dream. If only that man was there now, holding her hand like before, making all the fear and pain disappear.

But based on the only two times she'd seen him, he apparently only came to her when she was about to die.

She closed her eyes. Didn't this count? Her whole life was about to change. I wish you were here, she mentally told her memory of him. You said you'd be with me. I want you here.

Warmth washed over her. She opened her eyes, expecting to see him, but it was still just her and Tom. But for whatever reason, the room seemed different. Sharper. Clearer.

And the fear was gone.

Johnny stepped back into the room. "Okay, everything's here that Amos requires for the procedure. It looks like it can all be done via electromagnetic manipulation, so it shouldn't take long. Shouldn't even really hurt. Come in; there's a nurse here to help you."

Tom put a hand on her shoulder. "You ready?"

Jaq took a deep breath. "Yes. I'm ready." Strangely, the excited anticipation had gone away as well as the fear. She only felt peace. Calmness. A sense that whatever came of this surgery, everything was going to be all right.

She stood up straight and calmly followed Johnny into the back room, ready for whatever happened next.

Chapter 14

Opening her eyes, Sierra stared at the ceiling above her. A heart monitor beeped rhythmically near her head, loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough not to irritate the dull ache in the back of her head. Johnny had been right; it didn't hurt much. It wasn't like 'I just had surgery' pain; more like 'I stayed up too late studying' pain. She knew that pain all too well.

She smiled at the memory. She hadn't known what to expect when she woke up, if all her memories of life as Jacqueline Vega would be different or even gone once she remembered who she really was. But Jaq was an equal part of who she really was. The fact that she'd been Sierra first didn't change that.

Sierra.

Her eyes widened. The beeping sped up. Oh no.

No! Her mind screamed. No, this can't be right. I can't be Sierra. I'm not anyone special, anyone important. I'm just...

Sierra.

Drat.

Her mind returned to the man. How could he let it turn out this way? She'd told him she couldn't be who the Onve wanted her to be. She couldn't find a warrior for them. She didn't even know the first place to look. And more than that, this meant that Elias and those other people—Observers or whoever they were—really were after her. They really did want to kill her.

But his words returned to her mind. He'd promised to be with her. He'd promised to give her whatever she needed as long as she tried her best.

He'd chosen her.

She closed her eyes. It didn't make sense, but it was all she had to go on. She would just have to trust him.

The door creaked, and she opened her eyes to see Johnny and Tom walk in.

Johnny stopped. "You're awake! Good, good. How do you feel? Do you want me to call the doctor? Are you Sierra?"

Tom elbowed him, hard.

She suddenly felt like laughing. "Yeah."

"You are?" Johnny paused. "Or do you mean that you feel okay? Or that you want me to call the doctor?"

"Yeah, I feel okay." It took her a moment to muster the courage to say the next part. "And yeah. I'm Sierra."

"I knew it!" Johnny crowed. "I recognized you when I first saw you, and Tom and Richard and even Patrick all kept saying, no, she could just LOOK like Sierra, but I KNEW it. I—"

"And?" Tom interrupted.

She hesitated. "And what?"

"The warrior. Who is it?"

Johnny was practically dancing. "We have to get Richard in here—he needs to hear this! Oh, I just knew it. And now we're going to find the warrior! All our problems are solved. I can't wait to speak with him, to hear his plan of attack, what he intends to do, how Deunai will punish our enemies, what the rock says, everything!"

Sierra paused. "Wait, what?"

He slowed down. "Oh, sorry. I assumed you recalled everything now—don't you? How we had to hide for so long in that village? The threat of attack from the outside? The need for the warrior to end the persecution?"

She did remember now, though it strangely felt like old knowledge, as if they were discussing how two plus two equals four. Old news. Familiar. But that wasn't what had caught her attention. "No, not that. What did you say about the rock?"

"The rock? I'm just excited to speak with the warrior and find out what the rock says. I mean, that certainly will take second place to the far more crucial matters of vengeance upon our enemies, but at some point along the way, I'm sure he'll be able to share with us what the rock actually says."

"What the rock says? But I—"

"Sit down before you hurt something," Tom said, giving Johnny a hard look. "She was just a kid when she was in the village, remember? She was too young to hear about most of it." He turned to Sierra. "The symbols on the rock. The real warrior is the only person who can read them."

Her breath caught.

"Some scholars suggest that's supposed to be some sort of confirmation test we give the warrior, to make sure we have the right person." Johnny shoved at his glasses. "But others, and I agree with this group of thought, argue that such a test would hardly be valid or reliable, since we don't know what the rock says and therefore have no way of testing the warrior's translation!" He guffawed. "But none of that really matters. Deunai gave you to us so you could tell us who the warrior is, and that's how we'll know we have the right person."

She stared at him, still too numb to respond. The warrior was the one who could read the rock? Then how could she read it?

"Go get Richard," Tom said. "You're right; he should be here for this."

Johnny jumped back to his feet and dashed for the door. "I'll be right back with him. Don't say anything without me!"

The door swung wildly on its hinges in his aftermath.

Tom shook his head as he closed the door properly. "He's a nut."

"Yeah," she mumbled, still in shock.

He frowned at her. "What's wrong with you?"

"I... It's all a lot to take in."

"You have your memories back now, right? You remember our village?"

She nodded. "You were always nicer to me than Derek and the other boys." A smile tugged at her lips. "I always wondered why you let Derek boss you and everyone else around when you could've just told him to bug off." Her eyes widened. "Derek—as in, Derek?"

"The one that left. Yeah." His tone was dark.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "He's not the first. Won't be the last." He paused. "Well, that part might change now."

"Because of the warrior." An involuntary shiver passed through her body as her attention was refocused on the thoughts she didn't want to dwell on. "Is it true what Johnny said? Only the warrior will be able to read the rock?"

"That's what the prophecy says. Johnny and his eggheads all have their theories on what the rock says and what it means, but we mostly figure the rock has Deunai's instructions for what the warrior's supposed to do."

Instructions? She wouldn't exactly call it that. Not most of it, anyway. "You're sure the warrior is the only one?"

"That's what it says." He eyed her. "Why?"

The door banged open, and Johnny charged in. "You didn't tell yet, right? Did I miss it?"

"Yeah," Tom said, leaning back. "Turns out you're the warrior."

Johnny's mouth dropped open.

"While I normally appreciate your sarcastic humor, this is hardly the time," Richard said, entering in a more dignified manner. His heaving chest, however, implied that he'd been just as eager as Johnny to reach the recovery room.

"So?" Tom said, turning back to Sierra. "Who is it? Where do we find him?"

She stared at them. They wanted a warrior. The only person who could read the rock.

They wanted her.

Her chest tightened. She couldn't lead people. And she sure couldn't kill anyone! There had to be some mistake. There had to be—

"Hey," Tom said sharply.

She couldn't be a warrior. This couldn't be real. It wasn't happening.

"Hey!" He grabbed her head and pushed it down toward her knees.

The room dimmed, but not even that penetrated her racing thoughts. She wanted to scream it out: I'm not a warrior! I can't do this! You can't make me!

"Knock it off, will you?" Tom snapped. "Calm down and take a breath!"

She clenched the cot with her fist. Her whole body shook.

"Get the doctor," Richard ordered.

"Breathe!"

Her chest finally released. She gasped in air, tears streaking down her cheeks.

Tom held her there a moment longer, then slowly lowered her back down onto the pillow. She caught a glimpse of his expression before she turned away. He looked disturbed.

She barely noticed as Amos came in and examined her, then scolded the men, telling them to give her some space to recover.

Once he was gone, the men spoke quietly together, huddled near the door. She only caught a few sentences as their voices rose and fell.

"I figured she panicked because she didn't know what was going on," Tom said, his voice a low rumble. "I thought once she had her memory back, she wouldn't freak out so much."

Johnny started into a quiet tirade, too quiet for her to make out, but Richard interrupted him.

"She's been through a lot. It wasn't fair of us to start demanding answers from her when she'd only just woken up from her surgery." He glanced back toward her cot. "Like Amos said, we need to give her time to rest. She'll tell us who the warrior is soon enough."

As the men left, Sierra squeezed her eyes shut. She knew who the warrior was now.

And she could never tell.

* * *

Lisa stopped by later on that day. "Don't worry yourself about what to say or how to say it, honey. Right now we're just glad to have you back with us."

Sierra relaxed a little. "Thanks." She looked up in Lisa's face and smiled. "You used to braid my hair. All the ladies liked to, but I liked it when you did it best, because you'd braid in any flowers I brought you."

The older woman beamed. "That's right, honey. You were such a darling back then." She lightly stroked Sierra's hair. "And you grew up into such a beauty."

Sierra snorted and tugged at her too-short locks. "Right. Beauty. That's the word for it."

"You've been hanging out with Tom too long." Lisa sat down next to her cot.

Sierra looked away, unsure how to begin. "Do you think... I mean, what do you think people here would do if the warrior isn't exactly what they expected?"

Lisa leaned back, contemplation on her face. "Prophecy isn't an exact science. Some of the big thinkers even say that the warrior might be a baby now, that finding the rock means that the warrior was just born, not that he's out there and ready to start fighting for us. Is that what's got you so worried?"

She closed her eyes. Lisa wouldn't understand. "Something like that."

"Whether the warrior's ready to fight now or needs a little time first, we trust Deunai to know what He's doing. We'll do whatever it takes to help the warrior get ready."

Right. "What exactly does the prophecy say, anyway?"

"Don't you have it?"

"Have it?"

"We have a book we've printed all the teachings of Deunai and the prophets in. It's called the Elrech—that's old language for 'Master's Words.' Hasn't anyone given you one?"

She remembered now, the special book in the village. "No. I guess we were just focused on finding Sierra. Um, me."

Lisa chuckled. "Of course. That's okay, I know where some extra copies are. I'll get you one."

"Could you? I mean, would you mind doing that now?" There had to be some sort of mistake, a misunderstanding. If she could just read it for herself, she would find it. She was sure of it.

"Sure thing, honey. You just rest here, and I'll be right back."

Lisa returned shortly with a thin, leather-bound book. "Here you go, honey. Go ahead and give it a read. I'll be back later—you can ask me anything if you have any questions."

"Thanks." Sierra's attention was fully focused on the Elrech. She flipped through, skimming for references about the warrior. There had to be something in there to prove that she wasn't the warrior, and she was going to find it. The book was relatively small, and it didn't take her long to find the prophecy.

The persecution will carry on for a time, but Deunai will draw up a great warrior from among his people to lead them to victory. Deunai gives us this as a sign of his promise: he has hidden a rock with a message on it within the ground. This rock will be discovered at the time of the warrior. Many will see the message, but only the warrior will understand the words.

Not helpful. There wasn't really any other way to read or understand that last part. Only the warrior would understand the rock. She tugged her hair and skimmed further down.

Deunai gives another sign of his faithfulness: in a village of the east, in a time of no children, a girl will be born. She will reveal the warrior for all to see and know.

That was the part about her. She tugged her hair again. A time of no children—that's right, there was a six-year gap between her and the next youngest kid from her village. But this part said that she would reveal the warrior, not that she would be the warrior. That had to mean something. It just had to.

As much as she resisted it, though, her brain kept ticking through the connections. Revealing the warrior could just as much mean that she was revealing herself to be the warrior as revealing someone else. And the part right before it made it clear that the warrior was the person who could read the rock. And she was the one who could read the rock.

Drat.

Tugging with a vengeance, she flipped back to the beginning of the book. It wasn't a long book; she'd gotten through textbooks thicker than that in the space of an evening. She'd read the whole thing, cover to cover, and figure this out. She'd find the evidence she needed to prove that she was not the warrior.

A little over an hour later, she closed the Elrech and leaned back against her pillows, tugging her hair in contemplation. Much of what she'd read was fairly typical for religious stuff, things about praying and serving and honoring Deunai first in life, about helping people in need and stuff like that.

Other things were less typical. 'Treat other people with the same kindness, respect, and love that you would offer yourself.' 'Take the love that Deunai gives, love filled with forgiveness, mercy, grace, and truth; in turn, pass this love on to everyone around you, whether friend, enemy, or anything in between.' 'Give freely without expectation of receiving in return.' 'Mercy is greater than any physical gift or offering.'

What was even more unusual was the emphasis on internal attitudes and thoughts being just as important as actions. She'd heard about different temples and belief systems, from strict and rigid ones with daily rituals and rules that had to be followed all the way to ones that hardly ordered more than sacrifices and some basic rules about respect for the deity. She'd never heard of any being so concerned about the way followers thought and felt on the inside.

And there wasn't anything else about the warrior. Or about her. Only those two prophecies near the end.

She sighed and flipped back to them. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding. It said many would see the message, but only the warrior would understand. Maybe that meant many people would be able to read it, but the warrior would have special understanding about what the words meant. After all, the message was pretty strange. Like the stuff about life being free for all who seek it.

She tugged her hair. Actually, that part made more sense now that she'd read the Elrech. There were a couple of mentions in the book about Deunai bringing a true, deeper sort of life as a gift. The dream returned to her mind, how standing with the man had made her feel like everything else was fake, plastic, and he was the only real being she'd ever encountered.

"That doesn't help," she told herself, pushing the thoughts aside. She was supposed to be finding the misunderstanding that would prove she wasn't the warrior, not interpreting religious mumbo-jumbo.

The prophecy said that Deunai would 'draw up' a warrior. Maybe that meant something different. Like he would put together something new, not like a real person who already existed.

Or maybe it meant that he was going to sketch the warrior with pastels.

She closed the book and shook her head. Her desperation was pushing her to grasp at ridiculous thoughts, but there was no way around it. Like it or not, she fulfilled both of the prophecies. She was the girl born into the village in a time of no children. She was the one who was supposed to reveal the warrior.

And she was the warrior.

She thought of the man again. "This can't work," she whispered, hoping that he could hear. "I can't kill people. I'm not a sword-wielding, vengeance-bringing type person. I'm a sit in the back of the class and get good grades type person. I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

The dream replayed through her mind. He'd told her that he didn't expect her to know what to do. That she might reveal the warrior, but they weren't ready yet—whatever that meant. And he'd told her that he'd be with her, and all he asked was that she try her best, and he'd give her what she needed.

The thought sent the warmth through her body again. That was right. She didn't need to worry or be scared or anything. As long as he kept those promises, then all she had to do was try. He'd take care of the rest.

She looked down at the Elrech in her hands, and for the first time didn't feel anxiety or an urgency to find a loophole. She felt calm. Peaceful. She felt loved. A smile pulled at her lips.

The door flew open with a bang. Tom barged in, followed by Michael and a couple of other guards. "Stay by the door," he ordered them, then strode to Sierra's side, scanning the room as he went. "Is anyone else in here? Have you seen anyone?"

"Lisa was here a little bit ago." She looked at him, then the guards. "What's going on?"

"Clint escaped."

Chapter 15

The book fell from Sierra's hands.

"I'm not going to let him anywhere near you." Tom's voice was even darker than usual. "That's why we're here."

"Does he know I'm Sierra?"

"He was told right before he escaped. For all we know, he still thinks you're an imposter here to trick us."

She remembered how he'd glared at her when she first arrived, how he'd been the only one convinced that she wasn't Sierra. "He thinks I'm lying so everyone will trust me."

"Probably." He sat down next to her. "I'm not going to let him near you. And the guards are searching the whole base. The elevator's shut down, so he has nowhere else to go. They'll find him."

The warmth she'd felt only moments before had all but vanished. She tugged her hair and took a deep breath. And wished that the man was there. "Okay."

He gestured to the guards. "Keep an eye on the hallway." Most of them left. Michael shut the door behind them and stood guard there, braced and waiting.

Tom turned back to her. "Look, we're going to protect you. And I'm not going to let him get even close. But in case something goes wrong, you shouldn't be the only one who knows who the warrior is."

She stared at him, at his expectant expression. He had to be joking. Indignation heated her face. "I guess it's up to you and Deunai to make sure nothing goes wrong, then."

Surprise widened his eyes, but he recovered quickly. "Hey, I'm all for you getting a backbone, but this is serious. We've been waiting for centuries for this. It's what Deunai wants."

She suppressed a morbid laugh. He wanted her to tell him who the warrior was so they'd be able to find 'him' in case she died. If only he knew... "And you'll be waiting a lot more if anything happens to me. You don't need to know who the warrior is. You're not even ready."

His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Besides, Deunai doesn't strike me as the type who would spend centuries setting up the elaborate plan to have the rock found and me reunited with all of you, only to let one lunatic ruin the whole thing."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened again. Then shook his head and, with a grunt of disgust, stormed off toward Michael.

The door flew open, slamming into Michael. The short guard let out a startled cry and stumbled backwards.

Clint grabbed him and threw him against the wall. His nightstick cracked against the shorter guard's skull.

Tom charged.

Clint stepped forward, his crazed eyes shifting from Tom to Sierra. He lunged, dodging around Tom.

Sierra screamed. She scrambled off her cot and pressed her back against the wall.

Tom caught the enraged man's arm, spun him around, and sent him tumbling back toward the door.

Clint rolled back to his feet, nightstick ready. His eyes again shifted to Sierra. "You're all so blind! Can't you see what she's doing? How she's deceived you?"

"Drop the stick," Tom ordered.

"She's going to destroy everyone! I saw it in her eyes from the moment she arrived. She's not one of us. She's only here to kill us all!"

Tom's fists clenched. "I said, drop it."

Clint edged to the left. Tom followed, keeping himself between the man and his target.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Clint hissed. "Why can't you see that I'm protecting us all?"

"I don't want to hurt anyone, either," Sierra said, hoping to reason with him. "You're wrong, Clint. I'm not here to hurt you. I really am Sierra."

He laughed, his attention fixed on Tom. "Your lies won't work on me, snake."

"Drop it!"

Clint's gaze shifted to Sierra once more.

Her breath caught at the hatred in his look. She pressed herself tighter against the wall.

He lunged.

Tom reached to intercept him, but this time, Clint was ready. He swung the nightstick, catching Tom in the midsection and knocking him flat.

He turned to Sierra. Stepped closer.

She couldn't breathe.

Tom grabbed his leg.

He stumbled, but regained his balance. "Let go! I have to do this!" He raised the nightstick.

She wanted to scream a warning, to scream for help, anything, but air wouldn't come.

The nightstick hit hard across Tom's shoulders, but Tom still held on. Clint scowled and struck again.

Tom caught his arm and pulled, sending him tumbling to the floor.

"Let go!" Clint shouted again, lashing out.

There had to be something she could do to help. Something she could use as a weapon. She frantically searched the room, desperately trying to ignore her burning lungs as Tom and Clint struggled on the floor.

The cot. It had to be lightweight, light enough for her to lift.

Clint slugged Tom across the face and pulled his other hand free, lashing out again with the nightstick.

She grabbed the cot and pulled, but her body wasn't working right. The bed scraped a few inches across the floor and stopped.

Tom clawed at Clint, but Clint struck again with the nightstick.

The cot wasn't going to do it. She had to do it herself. She staggered across the floor, building up as much speed as her weakened body would allow, and slammed into Clint, knocking him off Tom.

He hollered as they hit the floor. His limbs flailed at her.

All she could do was curl into a ball, tighter and tighter, hoping her chest would release.

Clint regained his feet and grabbed her hair. Swung the nightstick.

Tom tackled him before the blow struck.

She curled tighter. This had to work. She had to breathe.

Michael dashed past her and tore the nightstick free from Clint's grasp.

Clint kicked free. Rolled to his feet.

She clenched her eyes shut. Thought of the man. Please, help me!

Her chest released. She gasped in air.

"You're all fools!" Clint shouted. "She'll kill you all!"

She opened her eyes. Michael and Tom stood between her and Clint, braced and ready.

Clint glared at her one last time, then bolted.

Michael charged after him.

Tom started forward, but stopped and returned. He grabbed her and pulled her to a sitting position. His eyes searched her face for a moment, then he sat back. "You're fine."

She drew in another shaky breath and nodded.

He pulled her up and seated her on her cot. "You shouldn't have jumped in like that. You could've been killed."

"Would... would've been worse... if he'd knocked you out," she puffed out her retort.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Guess you're right. Still, would've been better if you ran."

Her breathing slowly returned to normal. "Wouldn't have made it very far."

"I told you, you gotta stop letting it mess with you."

"But I..." She sighed. "Yeah."

He stood. "Rest. I'll keep watch at the door."

* * *

Clint pressed himself tighter against the vent as more feet clattered through the hallway below him. It should've worked perfectly. He'd waited until they'd finished the sweep. Tracked the patrol patterns until the right opening appeared. And there'd only been two men in the room with the snake. One of them hadn't even been a guard.

It should've worked.

As it was, it had been dumb luck that he'd managed to tuck himself back inside the air vent before Michael caught up with him. All the bases had been designed with ventilation systems too narrow for people to get through—an obvious security measure. But it had always bothered him, being so far underground with only one elevator as the way out. Too risky.

It had been a lot of work, replacing one section at a time, keeping the extra parts hidden away in back corners of storage rooms, but it had been worth it. Today proved that much, if nothing else. No one even thought to check the air vents because no one thought the vents were large enough to hide a person.

The hallway below was quiet now. He resumed crawling his way through the maze, heading for the surface.

It should've worked.

It should have, but it didn't. He wasn't going to be able to uproot this problem on his own. And the whole base was caught up in her deception, blind to the fact that she was a fraud.

He had to stop her. There had to be a way.

He couldn't go to the other bases. Knowing Richard, he'd already sent out word that Sierra had been found. Everyone had been so anxious for this for so long, there would be no convincing them of the truth. They would dismiss him, just like Richard had.

His eyes widened. And with all the other bases convinced she was Sierra, they'd all fall in line. It wasn't just Richard's base in danger; it was the entire Onve race.

He crawled faster, a new sense of urgency fueling him. He had to find a way to eliminate this threat before she got the chance to betray them. Now that she had everyone convinced she was Sierra, it was only a matter of time before she made her move.

A stream of foul words flew through his mind. How could Richard be so blind? First with Derek, then with this snake...

Derek.

Derek would have lost favor with the Observers when his claims of a way to the base led to a dead end. He'd be looking for a way to get back in their good graces.

Handing Sierra over to them would certainly do the trick.

A smile crossed his lips. It was perfect. He'd lead the way in through the vents. Help them grab the snake. Lead them back out. Then he'd fall behind and destroy the vents so the Observers could never find their way back to the base again.

Derek and his precious Observers would be happy. They'd have 'Sierra.' They'd kill her and figure the threat was over. And the Onve would be saved from the deceiver.

He was smiling broadly now.

Perfect.

Chapter 16

Sierra winced inwardly at the knock at her door. It had been almost a day since Clint vanished from the base, and the guards had finally, reluctantly, allowed her to return to the privacy of her own room. She'd hoped it might stop the steady stream of visitors, all looking at her with expectant eyes, waiting.

Waiting for her to tell them who the warrior was.

"Who is it?"

"Me," Tom said. "Richard and Johnny are here, too."

Great. She closed her eyes. "Can you come back later?"

"We just want to see how you are," Richard called through the door. "You don't have to say anything you don't want to."

Yeah, right. "Come in."

Tom opened the door, and the men hovered in the doorway.

"Feeling all right?" Johnny asked.

"Fine. Just like last time you asked."

"The guards will be monitoring this hallway closely," Richard said. "If you have any problems at all, or need to speak to anyone, just let them know."

She knew what he meant. "Thanks. Anything else you want?"

Tom folded his arms. "You already know the answer to that. We'll wait until you're ready to tell us, but we can't wait much longer. People are dying out there, you know."

She looked away.

Tom opened his mouth again, but Richard clamped a hand on his shoulder. "We respect that. Please let us know when you can." He pulled the other two away and politely shut the door behind them.

She closed her eyes. She'd been having this and similar conversations at least once an hour since Clint's attack. It was reaching the point where she almost preferred the Observers to all this.

If only she could just see the man again. But she'd only seen him when her life was in danger.

It was almost enough to make her wish Clint was back.

A soft pop came from the hallway outside her room, followed by a shout. She sat up, startled. Something banged against the wall.

Then silence.

She stood, unsure if she should be rushing to the door or hiding under her bed.

The door swung inward before she could decide. Two men stepped in, guns extended in front of them. One had pale skin—not Onve. They scanned the room. One of them, the darker-skinned man, lifted one hand sharply by his ear, then gestured toward her.

Two more men stepped into view.

Her chest tightened.

Clint and Elias.

I didn't mean it! She screamed internally, unable to get her mouth working properly to say it out loud. She stumbled backwards and fell on her bed. Elias and Clint—together? It wasn't possible. It had to be some sort of nightmare.

"That's her!" Clint hissed.

Elias's eyes glinted. "Take her."

Her lungs compressed further. They were going to make her tell them who the warrior was. And they weren't going to be patient and nice about it like Richard.

One of the unfamiliar men fired.

She heard a soft popping sound. Felt a sting.

Then nothing.

* * *

A man bent over Sierra's face. "Wake up."

She groggily blinked, trying to differentiate the swirls of color around her into solid objects.

He helped her sit up. "Drink this."

A cup pressed against her hand. She took it, still trying to get rid of the haze in her eyes. A strange, clinical smell clung to her nose, and her tongue felt like it had been packed with cotton.

"Drink," the man repeated.

She blinked at him. The world finally settled into order. She was sitting on a cushy bed, the type in upscale hotels. The room was equally plush. Except there didn't seem to be any windows.

She turned her attention to the man. He had dark skin and a nearly-shaved head. He stood tall, like someone in charge, but something in his eyes seemed to hint at uncertainty. He seemed familiar.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

It clicked. He was one of the unfamiliar men who'd been with Clint and Elias. "You kidnapped me."

He glanced away. "From before that."

She studied him. That look in his eyes...

"Derek?"

He nodded. "So you really are Sierra."

Her chest tightened. She caught it and forced herself to relax and breathe slowly. She couldn't have a panic attack here, not now. "What do you want with me?" They said Derek had left, gone to the Observers.

"It's not about what I want."

A chill trickled against the back of her neck. "You're working with Elias. And Clint."

He scowled. "Elias, yes. Sort of."

"I saw Clint with you."

"We're still figuring that part out. He vanished on us once we'd cleared the base." He motioned toward the cup in her hand. "Drink."

She looked down at it. "I'd rather not."

"It's just water. It'll help your mouth feel better."

She hesitated. Sniffed it. Nothing seemed untoward about it, though she couldn't say for sure.

"We're not going to poison you." He sounded exasperated now. "Just drink it."

"It could be drugged. I know you want me to tell you where the warrior is."

Another scowl. "We're not going to drug it out of you. We're not like those people."

"Those people?"

"Down in the base. You know, manipulating their way around. Twisting the truth to get what they want."

She set the cup aside. "They didn't manipulate me."

"Really? Never tried to talk you into thinking the way they do with all their grand talk about 'Deunai'? Never tried to talk you into doing something you didn't want to because 'it's what Deunai wants'?"

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find anything to say in response to that.

"That's what I thought." He pulled over a chair and sat. "I know they only recently found you. And I know about the memory block."

She was startled until she remembered that the Observers had been listening in on her phone call with Ama.

"This all must be really freaky for you," he continued.

"It's not their fault, or anything they did wrong. It's just... I'm not used to all this."

"And no one should expect you to be."

She pulled her feet up and scooted back a little bit, keeping her knees curled up by her chest. "It's not that they expect... I guess they kind of do. But they've been waiting a long time. It's just that I—I'm not anyone special, you know? I'm not anyone important. This isn't normal for me."

"Right!" He scooted his chair closer. "You didn't ask for this. And you don't have to be part of this." He leaned forward. "You liked your life before they came along. You'd be better off if you went back to your life and forgot about all this."

She snorted. "Because your Observer friends would just leave me be then, huh? I didn't even know about the Onve until _after_ your buddies attacked me."

He put his hands up. "You're right. We're sorry that happened. They thought you'd already joined the Onve, that you were going to bring some guy out to attack them and try to kill them. You see? They were just trying to protect themselves."

"And now they're happy to let me go free." She couldn't keep the sarcasm from her tone.

"They're not going to try to manipulate or force you to join their side. Not like those people down in the base. If you don't want any part of this, they're fine with that. Go back to your life. Get your good grades. Visit your ama. They'd be happy to leave you alone."

No more people thumping on her door, trying to get her to tell them who the warrior is. No more running, looking over her shoulder in fear.

She hugged her legs close. It scared her how much she wanted to say yes.

"We don't want to see anyone hurt," Derek continued. "Especially not you. We understand you're just an innocent bystander. You never should've been part of this. And we want to help you get back to the way things used to be."

Classes. Homework. Late night study sessions. Ama's tea and pork dumplings.

"We can make that happen."

She squeezed her legs tighter. She already knew she couldn't be a warrior. What was left for her if she stayed?

"There's nothing for you in that underground base," he said, as if he'd read her mind.

She could do this. Get up. Walk away from the death threats. From hiding underground. From Deunai.

A frigid cold penetrated her chest, as if her heart had turned into ice. Not just Deunai—from the man. The one who saved her from Agent Clark. The one who held her in her dream, told her everything would be okay. Who told her that as long as she tried her best, he'd make sure she had everything she needed.

She closed her eyes. Even if she could find it in herself to turn her back on Johnny and Tom after all they'd done for her, she couldn't turn her back on that man. She might not be anyone special or important, but she'd given her word that she'd try. And he'd given his word that he'd be with her.

She pushed away and scrambled off the bed on the opposite side from Derek. Bolted for the door.

He didn't move.

She grabbed the handle. It rattled in her hand. Locked. She turned again, harder, with the same results, then pounded on the door. "Help! Let me out!"

Derek stood. "Sit down."

She spun, pressing her back against the door. "Stay away from me!"

"I'm just trying to help you. Don't you want your old life back?"

She paused for a moment to focus on keeping her breathing calm. No panic attacks. Not here.

"Look, I was tricked by them, too. They made all their promises about a warrior coming along to make life better for everyone. But you and I both know that's not how it really works. They just want people to fall in line and be slaves to whatever they say."

He folded his arms. "We have to stop them, Sierra. They'll find someone and call him a warrior and let him lead them into battle. A war against people up here who've done nothing but try to promote the truth."

She rattled the door again. No windows in the room. No way out.

If only the man was there to tell her what to do.

Her eyes widened. She'd been hurt when she saw him before. Maybe he only came to her when she was hurt.

She squared her shoulders and took a step closer to Derek, hoping her body wasn't shaking as much as it felt like it was. "Done nothing but promote the truth? Is that what they told you? Do you have any idea what they've done to me?" She got closer, trying to look intimidating. She stuck a finger in his face. "You should be ashamed of yourself, helping out a bunch of bullies and thugs like your jerky friend, Elias!"

He seemed startled by her behavior, but not angry yet. "I know this hasn't been easy—"

She interrupted, getting more in his face than she was comfortable with. She had to make him mad. Mad enough to attack her. Then the man would come. "So now what? Let me guess. I tell you who the warrior is, and I get to go back to my old life? You're trying to manipulate me into telling you who the warrior is. You're exactly the same as those Onve in the base that you have so much contempt for! How dare you act so self-righteous when you're just like them!"

"Shut up!"

Progress. "At least the Onve didn't torture me or try to kill me. They're the ones trying to protect me. You're pretending to be on my side, but you're the worst of them all!"

He grabbed her arms and shoved her into the chair. "I said, shut up!"

"And then you go and—"

"SHUT UP!" He glared at her, his hands clenched in fists. He abruptly turned away. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "Don't you get it? I had to beg them to let me talk to you. It took me almost an hour to convince them that you might not be against us like the rest of the Onve, that you might just want to go back to your normal life. It took me another half hour to convince them to let me offer you this deal at all!"

A new cold spread across her chest.

"If I can't get you to tell me who the warrior is, then they'll get it out of you their way. Understand? Tell me and you get to go back to the life you had. Don't tell me, and they'll drag it out of you anyway, and probably kill you afterwards!" He turned and faced her again. "Are you really so dumb you can't see I'm trying to save your life?"

Sierra drew in a shaky breath. Folded her arms across her chest. "And these are your pals."

He exhaled. "Look. I used to be sucked into the Onve's little fantasy world, but I got out. I'm just trying to help you do the same. There is no Deunai, no special 'god' who's going to magically fix things. Tell me who the warrior is, and you can go free. This is the last chance you get. Safety and freedom, or a bunch of made-up lies."

She straightened. She didn't know much about Derek or the Onve or even about Deunai, but she knew the man. And he was no lie. "I guess you better go get your buddies, then."

"What?" He looked taken aback. "You of all people should know that you don't want to mess with the Observers. Just because they work with temples doesn't mean they're benevolent, you know? Just because someone's called a 'priest' doesn't make them a good person."

She set her jaw.

He was silent for a long time. "They really brainwashed you down there, huh."

"It's got nothing to do with them and everything to do with what I've seen with my own eyes." Her next breath shook with the knowledge of what would come of her defiance, but she held firm anyway. With any luck, if he turned her over to the Observers, the man would come. He would rescue her. He had to.

Derek was silent again, then tapped on the door. "Take her."

Chapter 17

A couple of locks scraped, then the door swung open. Elias strode in. The paler man who'd invaded her room was with him.

Elias turned narrowed eyes on Sierra. "Last chance."

She clenched her teeth. If you can hear me, then please, please come rescue me. Please.

"Fine."

The pale man grabbed her arm and escorted her out of the room. The door slammed shut behind them on Derek's downcast face.

Elias led the way through the hallways, down an elevator, and into a large room with a chair in the middle. Leather straps hung from the arms. Restraints.

The man shoved her into the chair and reached for first strap.

Her chest squeezed inward. She pushed against the man and tried to squirm free. He swung his elbow upwards, smashing her jaw and dazing her, all without taking his hands off the strap and her arm. She shook her head to clear it, but by the time it was clear, she was tied to the chair. Trapped.

"We need that name," Elias said.

Sierra took a deep breath, steadying herself. "So you can kill yourself a warrior."

He walked slowly back and forth in front of her, eying her contemplatively. "This warrior is someone you know. Someone you're close to."

She almost choked on a laugh and coughed to cover it.

"He doesn't have to die, you realize. If he can see the danger of trying to start some sort of religious war, if he'd be willing to relocate to a safer location, then there's no need to harm him at all." He paused his pacing and leaned closer to her. "The same holds true for you."

"You tried to kill me."

"As Derek explained, we are merely protecting ourselves." He sounded bored, dismissive. "You don't have to die, you know."

She wouldn't. The man would show up. He'd save her.

He regarded her a moment longer, then shrugged and strolled behind her. "Very well."

A loud series of clicks came from behind her. She tried to twist in her seat, but she couldn't see anything. "What is that? What are you doing?"

"Try not to move too much."

A shudder crept down her back. "Stop it! Let me go!"

"The name?"

She clenched her teeth. Like before, it would hurt at first, but then the man would come.

Something sharp dug into her right shoulder. She braced herself. The clicking noise came again, then fell silent.

That was it? She opened her eyes. Was this supposed to scare her?

Something whirred, like a plane engine starting up. The object in her shoulder jerked, and suddenly her entire body was on fire. She screamed as spasms tore through her body.

It was gone as abruptly as it came. She panted, her muscles still twitching.

The clicking sound started again.

"Stop!" she gasped. "Please, not again!"

"The name?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. He would come. He would come. He would come.

The whirring sound. The fire.

Screams tore free again. She tried to clench her fists, to channel the pain, but her body wasn't listening to her anymore.

There was another sound, then the fire was gone. She slumped in the chair, panting and trembling. Tears streaked down her face.

A popping sound.

"What are you doing?" Elias demanded, his voice reverberating through her ears like thunder.

Another pop. A thump behind her.

The man had come. Lingering traces of pain still shook her, but relief washed over all that, fading it into the background. He'd come to rescue her.

"Come on," a rough voice growled. A hand grabbed her shoulder and shook her while the restraints on her arms slid free.

Startled, she opened her eyes.

Derek.

"Where is he?" she asked. Her words came out slurred and heavy.

"Who?"

"He was gonna come save me."

"Then I guess he sent me instead." He pulled her to her feet.

Her knees seemed to be bending the wrong direction. She stumbled and sagged against him.

Derek caught her and kept her upright. "We have to hurry." He wrapped an arm around her waist and strode from the room, pulling her along with him.

She saw the pale man flat on the floor as they left. "D'jou kill him?"

"Nah, he's stunned. Now shut up."

Her feet continued stumbling and dragging on the floor as he dragged her through the hallway to the elevator. "My legs don't work."

"He must not've zapped you too many times, or you wouldn't be upright at all."

The elevator doors slid open. A man stared at them. "What's this?"

Derek lifted a gun and fired with a quiet popping sound. The man collapsed and was still.

"You killed him." Her thinking was beginning to clear, but her legs still wouldn't cooperate.

"Stunned," he corrected as he pulled her into the elevator. "It's a raid gun, like we used when we grabbed you. It's for when they want to get in and out without attracting a lot of attention."

"So they do sometimes leave people alive." The elevator jerked and began moving downward.

He shrugged. "Not very often. We only used them to get to you because Clint said the whole base would rally to protect you unless we kept it silent."

"He doesn't really believe I'm Sierra."

"That's his angle? The others are still looking for him out there. He vanished once we'd gotten clear of the base. Looks like he sealed the entrance, too. A team went back to wipe the place, but they couldn't find the way back in."

Sierra tried to push away from him, but her legs still wouldn't hold her. "You sent people back to kill everyone? All your friends?"

"They aren't my friends." He looked away. "Not that I had much say in things either way."

"But you saved me."

The elevator chimed softly. The doors slid open.

Derek leaned forward and looked both ways out the door, then pulled her through. "Shut up, or they'll hear us."

He crouched a little as he half-dragged her along. They were in some sort of parking garage lined with cars, all identical to the ones Elias had driven before.

After a brief walk, he pulled her to one of the cars and pushed her into the backseat. "Keep your head down."

She remained still, flat on the backseat—not that she could've sat up if she wanted to. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the car.

She could see a gatehouse approaching. "They'll see me."

"Hold still and keep your mouth shut."

"But—"

"Shut it!" he hissed as he slowed to a stop beside the gatehouse. He rolled his window down.

"Destination and purpose?" an officious voice demanded.

"Special errand for Elias. Feel free to call him and double-check, but make it fast. He needs it right away."

The voice mumbled something.

She cracked one eye to peek. A fair-toned guard scowled and listened on a radio. His eyes shifted, peering at the backseat.

She held her breath.

He was silent, then put the radio down and returned his attention to Derek. "I can't get him on the radio."

"He was pretty busy with the new arrival last I saw him. Maybe he doesn't want to be interrupted."

The guard hesitated, then shook his head. "All right, but hurry up. Elias hates to be kept waiting."

"My thoughts exactly." Derek pulled out onto the track on the road and sped off.

"How come he didn't see me?"

"He did. He thought you were a corpse I was assigned to hide."

She shuddered, repulsed. "A corpse? Is that something they make you do, hide dead bodies?"

"Sometimes."

She was silent for a few moments, realizing she might be better off not knowing the truth about the Observers' habits. "Why did you save me?"

"What, you wanted me to leave you there?"

"No!" She struggled for a moment and managed to push herself partially upright. "I mean, thank you, and I'm glad you did it, but why? I thought you didn't believe in Deunai."

"I didn't—I mean, I don't think that..." He grunted in frustration. "Look, whatever I think about the Onve or Deunai or whatever, you didn't deserve it. What they were doing to you. Any of it. It was lame of them to go after you like that."

She looked down. "Thank you."

"You're still going to go through with it, though, right?" He sounded cross. "You're going to tell them who the warrior is, and they're all going to start a big war?"

"I don't know."

Her answer seemed to catch him off guard. He twisted to glance back at her. "What's that supposed to mean? Aren't you the one who knows the warrior? Aren't you supposed to bring the big reveal, or whatever?"

"Something like that." Her arm was already starting to ache from holding herself up, and she dropped back against the seat. "But not yet. They aren't ready."

"Not ready? Meaning...?"

"I don't know." She closed her eyes. "I was hoping to see him again so I could ask." Thoughts of the man filled her mind. Why hadn't he come?

"See who?"

"Well, you know, him."

"Who?"

She squirmed. It felt weird, saying it out loud, but she did it anyway. "Deunai."

He twisted again to look at her. "You know he doesn't really appear to people and talk to people like that. Not anymore."

She shrugged. "He does to me."

The rest of the car ride was silent.

Sierra woke from a light doze when the car came to a stop. Derek helped her out of the car into a dim garage. She was pleased to note that her body, though weaker than normal, actually worked right again. "Where are we?"

"Your friends have their secret houses, I have mine."

"Won't the Observers find us here?"

He unlocked the door leading into the house. "I know what the Observers do to anyone who gets on their wrong side. I figured it'd be smart to have a place I could go where they couldn't find me. Just in case."

The place was similar to the Onve's safe houses in its sparse décor. The furniture looked like it had been scavenged from dumpsters and thrown haphazardly around the rooms.

They passed through a short hallway into the living room, where Derek had her sit on a wide armchair that looked ready to collapse even under her slight weight. "Hang on..." He dug into a pile of discarded blankets and newspapers before emerging with a box of snack bars. "Eat some of these. It'll help."

She took the box and dug in while he plopped into a chair across from her. He was right; eating did help. She could practically feel her strength returning.

"Is that what you meant, you know, when you talked about things you've seen with your own eyes?" he asked.

"Huh?"

He shifted his weight and looked away. "What you said about Deunai."

"Oh." She took another bite and nodded.

"Like, really saw him."

"I don't know." She sighed. "I'm not really a religious person. I grew up with Cazaels. We didn't do religion. So I don't know about this whole Deunai thing. But I know what I've seen." She briefly told him about the man, how he helped her with the Enforcers and talked to her after Clint attacked her, though she left out certain details about what the man said to her. "To be honest, I got in your face back there because I was hoping you'd hit me or something, and it would make him come help me again."

Derek shook his head. "Your mind was probably just coming up with ways to cope with stuff."

"Possibly. Maybe even probably. But then, why would I have seen him before I even knew anything about the Onve or Deunai at all? And why would that have made the pain disappear?"

He stood. "Whatever." He wandered back and forth for a moment, then turned to her. "So you aren't telling them who the warrior is?"

"No. I don't know. Like I said, I was hoping to see him again. He said they weren't ready yet, but he didn't tell me what that meant."

Derek paced some more.

"So what are you going to do with me?"

He shrugged.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"No."

"Can I leave?"

"No."

She finished off the last snack bar. "Can I have more to eat?"

He sighed. "Yeah, come on."

Derek remained quiet while she sat at the dirty, wobbly table in the kitchen and ate a selection of freeze-dried rations. Finally, he spoke again. "I'm not going to give you back to the Observers. You didn't do anything wrong. You don't deserve the things they've done."

"Thank you."

"I'm not giving you back to the base, either. I don't want some warrior coming to kill me."

She almost laughed. "I don't think you have to worry too much about that."

He leaned against a grubby counter. "It's someone from our village, right? Someone we know. Someone strong and in charge. It's Tom, isn't it? He was always trying to take over. I bet it's Tom."

"He wasn't always trying to take over. I was surprised how much he let you be in charge." She chuckled. "Actually, back when I was little, I kind of hoped he would take charge and make you stop leaving me out."

Derek had the decency to look embarrassed. "Well, you were just a little kid."

"I know, and girls were icky." She leaned back in the chair and it almost tipped over. She quickly righted herself. "I remember how much of a fuss you made when the moms made you play with me."

He looked away. "I'm still not giving you back to the base."

"That's fine." She didn't relish the idea of going back to the constant pestering about the warrior thing.

"Really?"

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe if you told me who the warrior is, I'd come up with—"

"No!" She pointed at him. "Don't you start in! This is the first place I've been where I'm not bombarded with that question every five seconds, and you're not going to ruin it!"

"Okay, sheesh, sorry. So long as you know I won't let you go off to find him."

"That's not going to be a problem."

Silence passed.

"You don't want him found."

She focused on her food. "Not right now."

"I thought you'd be eager for the whole warrior thing. After what the Observers did and all."

"A lot of people have been assuming a lot about me."

"So what are you going to do, if you aren't telling people about the warrior?"

"I really don't know. I guess if I don't get to see him again, then I just need some space to think and figure it out."

"Well," Derek gestured around the room, "we got space."

To her relief, he backed off and gave her exactly that. She wandered through the house to find a cobweb-infested bathroom and a couple of ramshackle bedrooms. One had a bed tilting severely to the left; the other merely had a mattress thrown on the floor. He obviously didn't attend to the house very often.

She poked through cupboards and closets until it was obvious there were no cleaning materials to be found. She settled on a couple of moth-eaten shirts, tap water, and a crusty bottle of dish soap.

"What're you doing?" Derek asked.

"I think better when I'm doing something." Specifically, she thought better when she had a textbook in hand, but she doubted he had any of those around. Cleaning was an adequate substitute.

As she set to work on the kitchen, she focused on her problem. The man said the Onve weren't ready yet, but never said what they needed to become ready. And more than that, he didn't tell her what she was supposed to do as the warrior.

She frowned at a stubborn spot of grime. She wasn't a fighter. She couldn't kill people. Why in the world would the man chose her if he wanted someone who could fight?

He didn't ask her to fight when they spoke. He even told her he didn't expect her to know what to do. All he'd asked was if she was willing to take her part in what was coming.

She sighed. She'd told him she'd do her best, but she just couldn't. She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't a killer. She couldn't be a warrior any more than she could be a whale or a monkey or a priest.

She chuckled at herself. A priest? What a funny thing to think. A priest like a puppet with strings being pulled by the Observers. Someone called a priest who isn't necessarily a good person.

Derek's words clanged through her mind. Just because someone's called a priest doesn't make them a good person.

A priest who wasn't what people expected a priest to be.

Her heart thumped her ribs. A warrior who isn't what the people expect a warrior to be.

She'd found the answer.

Chapter 18

Sierra sat down on the floor, rag still in hand. What if 'warrior' meant something different than what everyone expected?

Derek leaned over the counter and frowned. "What're you doing?"

"Do you have a copy of the Elrech?"

"I told you, I don't believe in that anymore."

Sierra waited.

He sighed. "I might still have one somewhere here. Give me a minute."

Once he found the book, she curled up on a stained couch and dug through the pages until she found the prophecy again. Sure enough, all it said was that a great warrior would lead Deunai's people to victory. It never said what the victory was, or who the victory would be over.

The rock said the warrior would wield Deunai's sword, but the Elrech frequently compared the truth to a sword. It could just as easily mean that the warrior would tell the truth.

The Onve had told her over and over about how the warrior would be a fighter who would destroy their enemies, but as she looked closer, she found nothing in their writings to prove that's what it meant.

A warrior who isn't a warrior.

She held the book close to her chest, hardly daring to believe it.

"So... what's the deal?" Derek asked.

Sierra realized he'd been hovering since he handed over the book. "It's not a warrior."

"What?"

She wanted to scream it out for everyone to hear. "It's not a warrior! I mean, it is a warrior, but it isn't!"

He frowned at her a moment longer. "Maybe you should go back to lying down."

"No, I get it now." She took a moment to organize her thoughts, then explained what she'd found. "See? It says the warrior will lead people to victory, but it never says anything about killing. 'Warrior' doesn't mean 'fighter' like everyone assumed."

It seemed to take him a moment to figure out what to say. "Okay, if it isn't a victory by fighting, then what?"

"I don't know!" She grinned at him, feeling downright giddy. "It's about truth, I know that much. But he said they aren't ready yet. For the warrior. For truth? I guess. No, that doesn't make sense."

"That's the first thing you've said that does," Derek grunted.

She stood and paced, ignoring him as she tried to make the pieces fit together. "Not ready yet. I don't know why. What do I know? It's about the truth, I know that. And about victory." She frowned. "That doesn't help. Let's see. It's about leading his people... leading them in doing what's right? The things he told them to do because he knows what's best. Like a daddy."

Her eyes flew wide as new connections clicked into place.

"Like a daddy? What are you talking about?" he asked.

"YES!" She flipped through the Elrech, digging back and forth until she found what she was looking for. "See, it says that people who follow Deunai are supposed to show his love to other people, right?"

"Uh... right..."

"But how can they show Deunai's love to others when they're hiding underground? They haven't been doing what he told them to do. And Lisa said he's like a daddy. When we do what we're supposed to and obey, he gives us rewards." Sierra dropped back onto the couch, exhausted and exhilarated all at the same time. "That's why he said they aren't ready yet. It's because they aren't obeying his commands."

Derek's mouth moved for a moment, seeming to work through various possible options before settling on his next words. "And after they show love, then the warrior will kill everyone?"

"No, you're not listening! Warrior doesn't mean killer!"

"Then what does it mean?"

She paused. "I don't know. Not really. But I think the Onve have to be obeying first before they can find out."

"But you don't think the warrior's going to kill anyone?"

"Of course not!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well, just look at me! Do I look like I could kill anyone?"

He stared.

Horror flooded her system at the realization of what she'd just said. She clamped both hands over her mouth, staring at him with wide eyes as the book dropped thumped to the floor at her feet.

"I... you... but you can't be..." He finally sat down on the wide armchair. "You don't mean that... I mean..."

"Forget I said anything." She tugged her hair with a vengeance. "I didn't mean... What I meant was, everyone assumed 'warrior' meant 'fighter' because they were being attacked and killed. But they were wrong. That's not what 'warrior' means."

He was still staring.

"Just forget it, okay?"

"You can't be the warrior."

"Right. So just forget I said anything."

"But... You can't be!"

She sighed. Picked the Elrech back up. And for the first time since the whole mess began, she told the entire story, leaving nothing out.

He was silent for a long time afterwards. She remained silent as well, giving him time to process it all.

Finally, he shifted his weight forward, ready to speak.

"But... you can't be!"

Rolling her eyes, she leaned back, narrowly missing an exposed spring. "Sorry, but that's the way it is. Trust me, I wasn't particularly thrilled when I found out, either."

"But—"

"I know this isn't what you were expecting, okay? I get it. Why do you think I haven't told anyone yet?" She stood and circled again. "But think about it. Doesn't all that stuff I said make sense now? The warrior isn't a killer. It's more about truth than about fighting." She paused. "Maybe that's what the warrior is for, to tell them the truth about how they need to do what Deunai told them to."

"But the warrior has to do with ending the persecution." Derek flipped the Elrech back open. "See, it's talking about persecution when it talks about the warrior.'"

"Okay, so maybe there's more to it than that. But it's not about fighting."

He stared a moment longer. "You really are the warrior?"

"Like it or not, yes." Sierra took a deep breath. "And I think I know what I'm supposed to be doing now." With that, she turned and started down the hallway toward the garage.

"Where are you going?" Derek asked.

"We've got to go back to the base. I have to tell them what I found."

"I'm not taking you back to them. I told you, I'm not going to help them start a war."

She faced him. "Weren't you listening to anything I said? Warrior doesn't mean fighter!"

"They've spent centuries believing it does. You think some little girl who didn't even know about Deunai until a few days ago will convince them to change their minds?"

She hesitated. He had a point. "But they have to believe me. It says right in their own book what they're supposed to be doing, and they aren't doing it. Besides, even if they decide they still want a warrior to go kill people, that just isn't going to happen." She spread her arms to show off her less-than-impressive physique. "I'm not exactly killer material here."

"They might just start the war anyway."

"So what, you're going to keep me here forever?"

"No! Maybe. I don't know."

She folded her arms, waiting.

"I just don't want to see the Onve come out of hiding only to start killing people!"

"And that's exactly what I need to tell them."

He folded his arms and didn't answer.

She sighed. He was stubborn, just like when they were kids. She wouldn't change his mind by arguing. "How about this. We contact the Onve and get a few of the leaders, like Richard, to meet us somewhere up here and talk. We'll see if they're open to it."

"And if they aren't open to it?"

"We'll figure that out when we get there. But we'll still be up here, so if you feel like you have to run back to your hiding place here, you can."

He gave her a look. "It's called a safe house."

"Right. Whatever. Can we call them?"

Derek remained silent for a long time, then sighed and shook his head. "Fine. We'll talk to them, but I don't think Richard'll come up. He hasn't set foot outside that base since our village was found."

"I'm sure he'll come. He wants to know who the warrior is."

He looked her over. "He's going to freak."

"I know."

He shook his head. "All right. We'll talk to them." He paused. "They're not going to be happy to see me."

"You saved me from the Observers. That's got to count for something. And I'll tell them you're okay." She turned, toward the door, then back, realizing a logistical problem. "How do we call them?"

"We'll talk to Donovan."

Of course. Patrick was the first one who'd talked to her about Deunai. "Right!" She smiled. "Perfect." Everything was falling into place.

* * *

"Out of business?" Sierra said, staring at the sign on Patrick Donovan's office door.

"He moved shop." Derek slowly examined the door. "Observers probably tracked him down."

"You don't think they got him, do you?"

"He wouldn't have had enough warning to put up a sign if that was the case. Hey, check it out." He pointed toward the bottom of the door.

She crouched and squinted at a few scuff marks. "What?"

"These symbols."

"I see some scratches... what are you looking at?"

He straightened and looked up and down the hallway. "Come on. We better get out of here."

She held back her questions until they were back in the car and safely down the road. "What happened? What's so big about a scraped-up door?"

"Come on, you're one of those smart people, right? If you want to leave a message for your friends that the people hunting you can't read, what do you do?"

Her eyes widened. "That was a code?"

"Yeah."

"What did it mean?"

"I know where to find him. But we gotta make sure no one's following us."

The next hour passed in a long, roundabout drive with a lot of backtracking and mirror checking. Finally, Derek pulled the car into a rather ordinary parking garage.

"He's here?" she asked as they climbed out of the car.

"Around here." He pulled his coat close, ducking his head to one side. "Don't let the camera see your face."

"What?" She instinctively turned to look for the camera.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to his side so she was facing the same way he was. "I said, don't!"

"Sorry! How was I supposed to know where the camera was?"

He rolled his eyes. "How exactly are you still alive?"

"Must be Deunai," she retorted.

"Yeah. No kidding."

She frowned, a stormy answer brewing in her mind, but he pulled her to the stairs before she could speak. They went up two flights, then crossed the garage to the other side and took the elevator down to the ground floor.

"Is all this sneaking really necessary? I feel like I'm in one of those cheesy spy movies."

He glanced at her. "I'm the one who spent a year with the Observers, remember?"

"Oh. Right."

They walked through back alleys and cut through lawns for a few blocks. Derek looked around carefully, then ducked his head low before leading her to the back door of a house that, while in decent condition, barely qualified as more than a shack.

"He'll split if he sees me," Derek said quietly, keeping his head down. "Go up to the door and knock. Keep your eyes forward so he can see your face. If he doesn't answer the knock, then tell him it's you."

Sierra took a deep breath. "Right." She walked up to the door and knocked, keeping her face squared with the peephole in the door. When no one answered, she glanced over at Derek. He gestured her onward.

"Patrick? It's me, Sierra. I mean, Jaq. I mean, when I first talked to you, I was—"

The door flew open. Patrick Donovan stood with wide eyes and disheveled clothes, staring at her. "Sierra?"

"Can we come in?"

"Yes, of course, hurry." He stepped aside and frantically gestured them in.

Once they were both in and the door was shut, Patrick seized her hand and led her through the cramped kitchen into a small living room with a few old-fashioned chairs. "Please, sit down. When finally I got word to the bases that my position had been compromised, I heard you'd been captured by the Observers. We all feared the worst. How did you ever escape?"

Sierra took a deep breath. "You have to promise not to freak out."

He frowned. "What?"

"Because I know he hasn't always been on your side, but he saved my life. He's the reason I got out alive. So you can't freak."

Patrick's eyes shifted to Derek, then widened. He jumped up. "But—but—"

"Told you," Derek said.

"It's okay! He saved me from the Observers. He's on our side now. Kind of."

"But he—"

"He saved my life, and he brought me to you so I can get in contact with the base again. He's not going back to the Observers." She glanced over at him for confirmation.

"I'm not going to let you guys go off and start some war," Derek said, folding his arms. "But I'm not going to help the Observers anymore, either. She didn't ask for any of this, and she doesn't deserve what they would do to her. Or to be bullied into helping anyone start a war."

Patrick's eyes narrowed. "We're not in the business of bullying anyone, Derek. Or betraying our friends. And—"

"I need to talk to Richard!" she broke in loudly, flinging her arms in the air in hopes of diverting their attention.

Patrick and Derek continued to lock glares for a moment longer, but Patrick finally broke off and turned to her. "What?"

"I need to talk to Richard. And Tom and Johnny. It's about the warrior."

He drew in a sharp breath. "The warrior?"

"I have to talk to them. And anyone else who's a leader down there. Can you get them to come up here and meet us?"

"I..." He gave Derek another mistrustful look. "I'm not sure."

"Just tell him, like you told me," Derek said.

"Tell me what?"

Sierra hesitated, but she took a deep breath and plunged in, telling him the entire story, including her more recent revelations about the true nature of the warrior.

Patrick remained silent for a long time after she was done.

"I know it's a lot to take in, and I know it's really different from everything you were taught, but if you look at the Elrech and what it says about—"

"It makes perfect sense," Patrick said.

"About the warrior, and..." She broke off and blinked. "What?"

He leaned back. "I've often wondered if we'd misunderstood something. The Elrech makes it clear, after all, that Deunai loves all people and wishes for all to turn to Him. It'd be difficult for them to do that if they've been slaughtered."

It took Sierra a moment to find her voice again. "So you think I'm right?"

"I do. Besides, even if I hadn't considered those possibilities on my own, you're the one who would know."

She felt a twinge of guilt. "I don't really know much of what I'm doing."

"Actually, you've drawn conclusions that generations of scholars have missed entirely."

"But we can't tell Richard and the others that I'm the warrior. Not yet."

"I won't say a word to them. It wouldn't be my place, anyway."

"So you'll help us meet with Richard and the others?"

He stood. "I'll go call them now." He shook his head. "It's hard to believe... I never imagined I'd ever be sitting down face to face with the warrior. Chatting theology."

"Trust me, this whole thing's been pretty surreal for me, too." She paused. "We're safe here, right? The Observers can't find it?"

"They know nothing about it."

Something else tugged at the back of her mind. Someone else to worry about... She glanced up at Derek. Her eyes widened at the memory of who else had been with him. "Clint! Won't he know how to find this place?"

Patrick shook his head. "You don't need to worry about Clint anymore."

"But he—"

"There was an explosion near the base after you were taken," he explained. "When the guards investigated, they found a passage out of the base that had collapsed in the blast. It looks like Clint tried to follow the others out, but he got caught in the explosion."

Derek's eyes lit up with understanding. "That's why he disappeared after leading us out. He was trying to seal the vents so the Observers couldn't get in the base again."

Sierra shuddered, but couldn't help feeling some relief. With Clint's knowledge of the safe houses and bases, he would have been after her again before long.

As soon as Patrick left to make the call, Derek crossed to the window and peeked out the heavy curtain. "That went better than I thought it would."

"Yeah, same here." She leaned back. "Suppose it'll be that easy with the others?"

He laughed and let the curtain fall back into place. "Dream on."

"I was afraid of that." They were going to have a hard time believing her. Or maybe they wouldn't believe her at all. Like Derek said, she'd only known about Deunai for a little while now. She was hardly in a position to say that all their studies and understanding about this was wrong. Especially when it meant telling them they had to put their lives in danger by returning to the surface.

She closed her eyes. _You said that if I do my best, you'll give me what I need to make it happen. Well, this is going to take a LOT_.

"I told Richard about you," Patrick said.

She opened her eyes. "What?!"

"Him," Patrick said quickly. He gestured toward Derek. "I told Richard about him. I couldn't just have them come up and find him standing here in my living room, you know."

"And?" Derek asked.

"He wasn't happy. I think he believes this is an Observer trap."

"So he isn't coming?" Sierra wasn't sure if she felt disappointed or relieved.

"No, he's coming, but it's just going to be him with Tom and Johnny."

"They wouldn't walk away from an opportunity to 'rescue' you," Derek said.

"Well, it's got them up here, at least," she replied. "I'll tell them you're okay."

"Here's hoping they listen."

While waiting for the men from the base to arrive, Patrick and Sierra leafed through the Elrech, double-checking passages and discussing the best wording to use, going over what she would say again and again. Derek alternated between sitting, half-listening to them with a bored expression, and peeking out the front window.

"Would you stop that?" she finally said. "You're making me all nervous."

"Yeah, I guess we don't really need a warning if the Observers figure out where we went."

She sighed. "Fine. Keep checking."

A sharp rap came from the back door, followed by three others in an odd rhythm.

Patrick stood. "It's them. Stay here; I'll be right back."

She took another deep breath. It would be okay. She could do this.

The image of the man popped into her mind. You know, she told it, this would be a lot easier if you just showed up and explained it all yourself.

The image smiled.

She rolled her eyes. Right. She was stuck with the job, like it or not.

A sharp exclamation came from the kitchen, followed by thunderous footfalls. The room suddenly flooded with guards, their weapons out and aimed at Derek.

Chapter 19

Derek barked out an angry cry and grabbed Sierra, backing toward the corner with her in front of him like a shield. "Stay back!" he hissed.

The guards said nothing in response, but they maintained a respectful distance.

"What are you doing?" Sierra demanded. "Where's Richard?"

"I'm here." Richard emerged from the mass, Tom and Johnny at his side.

"Let her go!" Tom demanded, his fists clenched as he stepped toward Derek.

"Back off!"

"Stop it!" she cried. She twisted free from Derek's grip and planted herself between him and the others. "We're all on the same side here, so everyone calm down."

"You don't know what he did," Tom said, his voice dark.

"I know what he did." She did her best to keep her voice level. "But I also know he risked his own life to rescue me from the Observers."

"I'm afraid we can't take the risk of trusting him," Richard said.

"But you trust me, don't you?"

"You don't know enough to make wise decisions at this point."

"Maybe I don't know everything, but by now I think I know the difference between someone who wants to hurt me and someone who wants to help me." She met Tom's eyes, hoping to quench some of the rage she saw there. "You want to help me." She gestured back to Derek. "He wants to help me. We all want the same thing."

Richard was silent for a moment, then gestured for the guards to lower their weapons. "Let's go. We're taking you back to safety."

She sensed Derek stiffen behind her, but she spoke before he could. "I'm not going back to the base until after we've talked here."

"It's not safe," Tom said, still glaring at Derek. "You have to come with us."

She stepped back, getting really tired of being told what to do. "No. You have to shut up and listen for once in your life!"

Everyone looked shocked at that one.

Her voice shook a little, but she pressed on anyway. "The guards can monitor the doors and windows to make sure we don't attract any attention here. The rest of us will sit down and talk." She took another breath to give extra force to her next word. "NOW."

No one moved for a long moment.

Richard nodded. "All right. We'll talk."

At Richard's command, most of the guards spread out as she'd suggested. A handful remained close, keeping their eyes on Derek.

"So," Richard said, settling into a chair, "what exactly did you want to talk about?"

Tom and Johnny stood on either side of Richard. Neither looked happy.

Sierra sat down facing Richard. Derek hovered beside her, while Patrick sat in one of the other chairs. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Here goes.

"Deunai told me that the Onve aren't ready to know who the warrior is. I didn't get it at first, but now I understand why." She explained as carefully as she could, using the wording she'd worked out with Patrick.

When she finished, the men still stared at her blankly.

She tried to elaborate. "Johnny, you remember when Lisa said Deunai is like a daddy?"

He nodded.

She hesitated and searched her mind for the right words. "Well, how can you expect your daddy to give you an allowance if you haven't done your chores? Right?"

The blank looks continued.

Patrick intervened. "She means that we can't expect Deunai to bless us with the gift of the warrior when we haven't even been faithful to the simplest of His commands."

"But that's the entire purpose of the warrior," Richard countered. "We're unable to carry out those commands because anyone who does so is killed. The warrior will end this persecution so that we can obey those commands."

"No, weren't you listening?" She swallowed her frustration and tried again. "You have the wrong idea of what the warrior will do."

"I hardly think you're one to suggest that centuries of scholars—people who have devoted their entire lives to studying this matter—have gotten this entirely wrong." Richard snorted. "The fact of the matter is, and I'm sorry to be quite so blunt, but you have only one task to do, which is to reveal the warrior, and you haven't done that yet. So I hardly think you're in a position to imply that we are remiss in our actions while you still refuse to complete yours."

She scowled, the frustration returning. "But—"

"You seem to think this can all revolve around your own moods and feelings on the matter. Has it even occurred to you that your refusal to do your job nearly doomed us all when you were captured? You could have been killed, and then where would we be?" He frowned at her. "How can you be so selfish as to not realize what you're costing us?"

All of Patrick's carefully formulated words and arguments were gone now, and she no longer cared. "Can't you see? You've got it wrong. You have this idea of what the warrior's going to be like and what the warrior's going to do, and it's totally wrong." She was yelling by now. "You're wrong! Can't you see that?"

Richard's eyes narrowed. "How dare you! Who do you think you are to talk to us like this? What gives you the right to come in here and tell us, the ones who have been studying this matter for years, that everything we know to be true is wrong?"

"Because I'm the warrior, that's why!" she shouted.

Patrick's hand flew to his mouth.

Richard choked.

Johnny's mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out.

Tom just stared.

"So..." Derek mumbled. "I thought you weren't planning on telling that part yet."

Her anger faded slightly with realization of what she'd done, but didn't dissipate enough to make her care. She hadn't been planning to tell. But for all the work she'd done keeping her secret, now she couldn't seem to stop blurting it out. She shook her head. "I guess it's meant to be."

"Guess you can't keep your mouth shut, more like."

She shot him a withering glare.

"I... you... you can't be," Richard finally said.

It made her feel somewhat better to see he'd lost his indignation. "The Elrech says it's the person who can read the rock."

"You... you can read the rock?"

"That's not possible," Johnny abruptly broke in. He shoved at his glasses. "It's not logical. You're Sierra. It clearly states that you are the one who will reveal the warrior, not the one who is the warrior."

"Consider it revealed," Derek offered under his breath.

She gave him another look, then returned her attention to Johnny. "Show me where it says the two can't be the same person."

"But you can't," Richard said. "The Elrech says, 'a great warrior.' You..."

"It doesn't make sense," Patrick agreed. He leaned closer. "Unless the warrior isn't a fighter. Like Sierra said."

"But..."

Sierra's irritation flared again. "Look, I'm not a fan of this whole warrior thing myself. But last I checked, Deunai gets to choose whoever He wants to choose, right? I can read the rock. That's all there is to it. So zip it already!"

The room was silent.

Richard tilted his head, watching her in thought for a moment longer. "Patrick, can we speak with you in the other room?"

Great. They didn't believe a word of it. She looked away as Patrick walked with them into the kitchen. Moments later, a series of raised voices rattled through the walls.

"That went well," Derek said.

"Fat lot of good you were."

"Hey, I'm not the warrior here."

She gave him a look.

He gave her one right back.

After a few minutes, the voices quieted somewhat, though it still took almost an hour before the men returned.

Richard eyed Sierra. "You're sure that you're the warrior."

Like it or not. "Yes."

"And you really believe Deunai wants us to live up here instead of in the bases."

"Yes."

"Even though it means we'll all get killed."

She frowned. "I know it's scary, but if this is what Deunai wants you to do, then He's not going to let everyone die for nothing, right? Besides, if we're all up here talking about Deunai, the Observers can't start killing us off without people getting suspicious. Isn't that the whole Observer thing, to keep it all a secret?"

"But we'd never get a chance to speak about Deunai," Johnny corrected, a deep scowl holding his glasses firmly in place. "You of all people should know we can't even use a phone without the Observers coming to kill us."

"It's true," Derek said. "They hack into the Enforcer network to track movement of the 'unacceptable' religious groups. I've seen them do it."

"I know, but we'll figure something... wait." She looked up at Derek. "You've seen them do it?"

"Yeah."

Things clicked together in her mind, putting a smile on her face. "I know one of the Enforcers—an agent. He's a friend, and he knows people have been abusing the Enforcer network to get to me. If we told him how they're doing it, he could block them. And if they don't have access, then they can't track us down when we get up top."

"They'll figure out another way," Johnny insisted. "It won't take them long to hack back in."

"Then we'll have to work fast." She stood. "When we bring the people up here, I'll go with Derek to talk to Agent Ackerson. He'll block the Observers, and we'll all get settled in quickly and start spreading the word about who we are. We could even mention that some people want to keep us from talking. Then if the Observers come after us, it'll look suspicious if anyone disappears."

Richard was still frowning. "We're taking a big risk."

Tom snorted. "You people are idiots."

Everyone stared.

"You all go on about waiting centuries for the warrior, and when SHE finally arrives, you can't stop whining and griping because she isn't what you expected."

He pointed at Sierra. "And you! You should've said you were the warrior the second you knew. Would've shut up all of us numbskulls for the next decade or so."

Richard's mouth dropped a couple inches.

"This whole thing about coming up top and talking to people? It's stupid and crazy." Tom straightened his jacket. "Let's do it."

* * *

The ride back to the base was quiet. They'd left Derek with a few guards in the shack after some debate. The men from the base didn't trust him not to go back to the Observers, while Derek, for his part, still wasn't convinced that they weren't going to try to start a religious war. Patrick had thankfully been level-minded enough to help Sierra convince everyone that, at least for the present, they all needed to trust each other to stick with the plan. She was grateful he was coming along; she was going to need someone on her side down there.

Sierra sat behind Tom on his bike, finding herself almost too preoccupied to notice the wildly rattling and swaying grates they rode over.

The men had insisted that she be the one to tell the people in the base. She was the warrior, after all, so it was her job to lead them. It made her stomach ache. And she'd thought class presentations were bad, having to stand up and talk in front of twenty people she knew and sat beside every day in class. Now she had to stand up in front of hundreds of people she barely knew and tell them everything they believed about the warrior was wrong.

Nausea gripped her that had nothing to do with the excessively sharp turns Tom was taking.

They wanted a big, strong man to lead them into war. They were getting a gangly, awkward girl who knew nothing about them until just a short time ago. Who was not going to lead them into war, but walk them into what they saw as death.

She thought of the man. Okay, this whole thing is from you, so they have to listen, right? You have to make them listen. It's not going to work if it's only coming from me.

He would help her, she was sure. He'd promised that he'd make sure she had whatever was needed. Right now, what she needed was the most receptive, gracious audience in the history of the world.

By the time they stepped off the elevator into the base, most of the residents had been gathered into the cafeteria, filling the place to the point of standing room only. A table had been placed at one end to function as a stage. An excited buzz hummed through the room as Sierra, Patrick, Richard, Tom, and Johnny entered and climbed up on the table.

She looked across the mass of people and saw the eagerness on their faces. Her chest tightened. They had come to hear about a warrior—the warrior they expected. How would they react when they heard what she had to say? It couldn't possibly be pretty.

Tom glanced at her. "You ready?"

"Sure." It sounded weak even to her own ears.

"Liar."

She gave him a look.

"I hear you're supposed to imagine them naked. Or something."

Another look.

He rolled his eyes. "Quit worrying. You'll be fine."

Great. She took a deep breath and tried to focus as Richard greeted everyone.

"For centuries, we've been persecuted, attacked, murdered. We've been forced into hiding underground, and we've all been waiting in great anticipation for our situation to change. Our first sign of hope came when the rock was found, but our inability to locate Sierra diminished that hope. But Deunai was gracious, and I am overjoyed to inform you all that the rumors are true. Sierra is in our midst!"

The crowd cheered.

Sierra wanted to throw up.

"But we must be careful not to let our own preconceived notions stand in the way of Deunai's plan," Richard continued. "And we must all recognize that just because we think that Deunai will act in a certain way doesn't mean that's His intent. We cannot let our ideas get in the way of His will."

The cheers faded into confused murmurs.

"It's crucial that we be ready to accept Deunai's will, even if it might not be exactly what we expected."

All Sierra saw were frowns on the faces around her. She glanced at the door. No, too far away to make a break for it.

"So without further ado, Sierra is now prepared to speak to us all!"

That was something the crowd could understand. They readily and eagerly cheered.

"Go get 'em," Tom whispered before shoving her forward.

She looked out at all the expectant faces turned toward hers. Too late to run. She forced herself to take a deep breath, but she couldn't dispel the tightness from her chest. "Um, hi. I'm Sierra."

Hardly an impressive beginning. She took another deep breath. "I know what everyone's been expecting. It's been hard, hiding underground and being afraid, waiting for some big, supernaturally-powered warrior to come and kill everyone who wants to hurt you."

The smiles broadened. Her chest cinched further. That's what they wanted. They were waiting for her to tell them who this warrior was. To tell them the good news that their enemies were about to die.

She opened her mouth, fumbling for more words, but none came out. Her throat turned dry.

The audience waited.

She tried to swallow. All the eyes drilled into her. The silence dragged on.

People began to murmur.

Dryness spread into her mouth. Sierra tried another deep breath, but her lungs weren't cooperating.

She couldn't do this. She wasn't anyone important. She couldn't lead them. Couldn't tell them what to do.

She turned and ran.

Sierra had no idea how many twists and turns in the hallway she'd taken before she collapsed against the wall and sank to the floor, covering her eyes with shaking hands. She'd been a fool. What had possessed her to think she had the right to tell anyone what they should do? That she knew the truth better than they did?

A quiet part of her pointed out that she did know the truth. Patrick agreed with what she'd said, and even Richard had reluctantly accepted it.

But a much larger, louder part of her dismissed it. It didn't matter what she'd figured out on her own. She'd thought things would change if she was Sierra, if she was the special girl of prophecy everyone kept talking about.

But nothing had changed. Before, she was just Jaq. Unimportant, plain college girl who didn't fit in. Now she was just Sierra, unimportant, plain college girl who still didn't fit in.

Hot tears formed in her eyes. She'd been a fool. And a coward. She wasn't fit to lead anyone.

It felt like almost an hour passed before she heard footsteps. She forced herself to look up.

Tom frowned down at her.

She looked back at the floor in shame. He was right to frown. She deserved this.

"You wanna tell me what happened out there?" he demanded.

She didn't speak. The answer should've been obvious. She'd chickened out.

He remained silent a minute longer, then grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. "Come on. We've got work to do."

"I can't..." Her voice broke. "I can't talk to them."

"Patrick already did it for you."

Fear pierced her. "What did he tell them?"

"Just what we talked about. Going up top and obeying Deunai before we can find out who the warrior is."

Relief washed over her, but a renewed sense of shame polluted the comfort. Patrick had been forced to do her job for her. "How'd they take it?"

"How do you think? No one's happy. But Richard, Johnny, and Patrick are talking to them. They'll see it in a day or two." He turned and started walking. "Coming?"

She followed a pace behind him. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet where people won't harass you. It's going to take a few more logistics to move people up top than just 'my Enforcer buddy is going to magically solve everything,' you know."

Her eyes drifted downward again. He hadn't said anything about her chickening out. She'd feel better if he'd just yell at her and get it over with. "I'm sorry."

He glanced back at her briefly, but continued forward. "You're going to have to do better than that next time. They're taking it on Patrick's word for now, but you're Sierra. They're trusting you to lead them."

Her heart sank anew. She followed him on numb legs. She was no leader. She was just Sierra.

A failure.

Chapter 20

Sierra waited near the elevator for Tom and Johnny. The logistic and planning stage had taken two days, headed up by Tom and Richard while Johnny and Patrick debated the Elrech with all the people protesting the foolishness of this move.

She was entirely too happy to let the men take up leadership; she'd proven herself incapable of the role. And she was busy enough wrestling with her own doubts and fears. As convinced as she was that going up top was the right thing to do, she couldn't get Elias's face out of her mind. He'd come for her again. She knew it.

She just had to hope that their plan would work well enough to keep him at bay.

It has to work, she told herself for the umpteenth time. The Observers have to keep their work secret. If we tell a lot of people who we are and that people want to hurt us for our beliefs, then the Observers can't do a thing without drawing attention.

It had to work.

Tom came around the corner with Johnny trailing behind him. "Good, you're ready. Let's go."

"How many?" she asked, fear creeping in once more. It would only work if they had enough people along to draw attention.

"About eighty."

Her heart sank. So few? The sick feeling returned. If only she hadn't chickened out, maybe more would have come. It was her fault.

"It should be enough," Johnny said. "And more will come if it works."

If. Big if.

Johnny pushed at his glasses and cleared his throat. "Now, before we go up, are you absolutely sure about this? Not that I doubt Deunai will keep His promises, but I just wanted to be sure that, you know, that it really is from Him, because—"

"No one's making you come," Tom said, stepping into the elevator.

Sierra followed him in and looked at Johnny, waiting.

Johnny paused, but quickly jumped in before the doors shut. "Right. I'm with you. Deunai's will and all."

"Thanks for coming with me for this part," Sierra said. The three of them were going to pick up Derek and visit Agent Ackerson. As long as everything went according to plan, the Observers would be blind when the rest of the people from the base came up.

"From here on out, you're not getting rid of us," Tom said.

Johnny nodded.

A few hours later, they picked up Derek and arrived at the Enforcer Center with minimal testosterone posturing between the men, to Sierra's relief. And with no signs of Elias. She kept checking over her shoulder, expecting to see one of the Observer cars right behind them, but everything seemed clear. They hadn't been detected by the network yet. Now they just had to sever the Observers' link before anyone could figure out what they were up to.

"We're here," Tom said.

Sierra blushed. They were already parked and waiting on her. "Right."

"You're not—"

Her cheeks burned hotter. "No, I'm not chickening out." She unfastened her seatbelt, unable to maintain eye contact. She couldn't let her fears make her screw up again. "Let's go."

A young man with a pinched face sat behind the reception desk, busily typing away at something. When Sierra stopped at the desk, he didn't bother looking up. "Need something?"

"We have to speak with Agent Ackerson right away. It's urgent."

"Regarding?"

Sierra glanced at the men, who shrugged.

"I need to tell him what this is about, miss. Or at least a name, if he knows you."

She nodded in relief. "Yes. Tell him it's about Jaq Vega."

"He'll know what that means?" he asked as he typed in the computer again.

"He should."

"Is there something else you can..." He stared at the screen, then looked at her with wide eyes. "He'll be right down. Um, feel free to have a seat."

"Oh. Thank you." She turned away from the desk, but right then her brain made an unwelcome connection. The receptionist had typed her name into the computer. Into the Enforcer network.

The Observers knew she was at the Center.

Her chest tightened.

Tom caught her arm. "Now what's wrong?"

She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe.

He grunted in annoyance and pushed her into one of the seats.

With her head down, her lungs relaxed and took air again. Shame tugged at her, but the fear was more powerful. "He put my name in the computer."

Tom stiffened and looked around. "We better split."

Tears burned at her eyes again. She'd blown it. Again.

"Jaq!" Agent Ackerson called, sounding slightly out of breath.

It had been strange to say her old name; it felt even stranger to hear someone calling her by it. She turned to see him striding across the lobby toward them, smiling and puffing like he'd run there from his office.

"Come on," Tom grunted, tugging her up.

She stood, but paused. Agent Ackerson knew what was going on. He'd keep them safe. There had to be some way to salvage this. "Elias wouldn't dare come into the Enforcer Center. They already know too much here."

"Doesn't mean he won't be waiting when you come out." Tom pulled her toward the exit. "We have to leave before he can get here."

She resisted, frantically thinking. There had to be a way to fix this. She couldn't let the base down again. "They only know I'm here. They don't know what we're doing. We can still cut the connection and get the people up here, like we planned."

"We can't risk the Observers getting you again," Tom insisted.

Agent Ackerson arrived at her side, frowning at Tom's hand gripping her arm. "Do you need help?"

"No, these are my friends," she said. She pulled her arm free. "They've been keeping me safe. We need to talk to you right away."

He gave Tom another skeptical look, but nodded. "I'm afraid I haven't had any leads on who's after you or how they're manipulating our system. Have you had more trouble with them?"

Tom snorted. "When haven't we?" He eyed the agent. "And what exactly had your guy at the desk so jumpy to get you down here right away?"

"I have Jaq's name flagged in the system. Any mentions of her are directed back to me immediately. If those people try to use our system to get to her again, I'll know about it and head it off before anything happens."

Tom looked somewhat more satisfied.

"Can we talk somewhere?" Sierra gestured to Derek. "I have a friend who can help solve this problem."

It took almost an hour to explain everything Agent Ackerson needed to know without going into too much detail about the base or the rest of the hidden Onve.

"So you're saying that your friend here knows how these people—the Observers?—have infiltrated our network."

"He can tell you how to block the Observers' access. Then the rest of my friends can come up and find jobs and places to live without having to worry about getting hunted down and killed."

"You really think they'd kill you and your friends?"

"What do you think Agent Clark was going to do with her after he finished questioning her?" Tom interjected. "Send her home with a plate of cookies?"

Agent Ackerson frowned at him briefly, but returned his attention to Sierra. "I suppose you also want my help in getting quick approval for their job and housing applications."

"That would be nice, if you can. But the main thing is making sure the Observers can't find us."

He eyed his computer for a moment. "I get the impression these aren't people who give up easily. So what's to stop them from trying to hack our network again from another route? How would we even know if we've been breached?"

She glanced at the men, unsure how to answer.

Tom jabbed a thumb at Derek. "He knows where to find them. Do a raid. Isn't that what you cowboys do?"

"It won't do any good," Derek said. "They're all over, everywhere in every city. I know where one building is, but they'd probably have it cleared before anyone could get there. Even if you did arrest everyone, it'd hardly make a dent in their work in the city."

The agent shook his head. "You want me to believe that there's a secret, temple-based society that controls all the religion in this city."

"In every city," Derek replied.

"You saw yourself how they showed up at my ama's house and rerouted the call transfer you set up," Sierra said. "Whoever they are, whatever they're about, they obviously have resources and don't care about defying the law."

"So how do you propose we stop them from infiltrating our network again?"

She was silent for a moment. An unpleasant thought crossed her mind. "I'm not sure how to stop them, but I know how to find out when they do. Keep track of our addresses. If you see unwarranted raids being ordered on our homes, then you'll know the Observers are back in the system."

"And that's the best you can come up with for stopping them?"

"Isn't that technically your job?" Tom interjected.

Agent Ackerson eyed him.

"Just saying."

"Of course it is. I just need all the information in order to do my job. I need to have all the facts if I'm going to track these people down and stop them."

"You won't be able to stop them," Derek said. "If they catch on that you're aware of their presence and are working against them, they'll just get rid of you."

The agent's eyebrows shot up.

"Remember about a year back when a bunch of agents abruptly quit?"

"Yes?"

Derek nodded. "Observers."

"They resigned. It was all voluntary."

"Sure looked that way, huh?"

Agent Ackerson sighed. "You're all making a lot of claims here that I can't verify with facts. You understand that I have to work based on evidence, not conjecture."

Tom opened his mouth.

The agent raised a hand, stopping him. "I'm sure that at least most of what you've said is true. Show me how they've hacked in, and I'll block them. I'll help your friends get approved for housing and jobs. I'll make a list of the addresses to keep an eye on. And I'll keep doing what I can to track them down through the evidence. If you can find any solid evidence to back up your other claims, then I'll track those leads. Until then, I'll do everything in my power to keep you and your friends safe."

"Perfect." Sierra smiled, finally feeling a slight hope and relief break through the fear. Maybe she hadn't screwed everything up after all. "Thank you so much."

It took a few hours of digging through the network before Derek and Agent Ackerson were finished and satisfied that the Observers no longer had access.

"We'd better let the base know to send people up quickly, before the Observers can get back into the network," Johnny said, heading for the door.

"Stay in contact," Agent Ackerson told Sierra. "If you have any more trouble—"

Sierra nodded, already being towed toward the door by Tom. "We'll call right away."

She followed Tom, buoyed by hope, until he stopped short at the doors.

"What—" she started to ask, but her mouth turned dry as she looked out the glass doors and saw what had stopped him.

An Observer car sat in the parking lot, idling beside the curb. Elias glared at her from the driver's seat.

Chapter 21

Sierra froze. Her breath caught. She'd forgotten about the receptionist putting her name in the network before the Observers were cut off. That they'd know where to find her.

Elias's head jerked. He picked up a radio and talked into it briefly, his expression growing darker by the moment.

"They just found out they've lost connection," Derek interpreted.

"How are we supposed to get past him?" Johnny asked.

Tom eyed the lot. "I'll keep him busy. Get her to the car and get out of here."

"No!" Sierra cringed at her outburst. "There has to be another way." Maybe they could have Agent Ackerson arrest Elias. But no, he couldn't arrest anyone without proof of wrongdoing. And Elias would be back out as soon as the Observers got back into the network. They were losing time. The window of safety was closing.

Elias set the radio down and shifted the car into gear, a displeased look on his face. He looked her way again, and a new expression took over his features. Indecision?

Derek abruptly snorted. "They've called him back. I'd bet anything on it. Without their connection to the network, they can't be sure to keep the Enforcers off their backs, and he wouldn't dare make a move in broad daylight without that protection."

Sierra saw it now. The frustration mixed with uncertainty in Elias's eyes. He couldn't do a thing to her, and he knew it.

Boldness crept into her. She reached for the door.

Tom caught her hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Derek's right. Elias can't take me now." She pulled the door open and stepped outside. Tom quickly joined her, followed by Johnny and Derek.

Elias's eyes narrowed.

She took a few more steps forward and met his gaze, waiting. Challenging him.

He glared a moment longer, then gunned his engine and took off.

A grin spread across her lips. She'd done it. She'd stood up to him and come out the victor. Maybe she could lead after all.

Derek gave her a light shoulder-punch. "Nice."

"Come on," Tom said, sounding irritated again. "We better get our people up before the Observers hack their way back in."

When they got to the nearest safe house, Johnny contacted the base, and the house turned into a flurry of activity. The elevator's size prevented more than five or six people from coming up at a time, so they worked with each wave before the next one arrived.

Sierra found she preferred it this way. The small groups made it easier to assign them their new addresses provided by the agent, tell them where they'd be working, and remind them to make sure to meet as many neighbors as they could as quickly as possible.

"Remember to tell them that you've been hiding because you believe in Deunai and people want to hurt you for that," Sierra told the group. "It should catch their attention so that the Observers won't be able to do anything without people noticing."

She felt better seeing their worried expressions calm somewhat at her words. Tom was right. It was stronger coming from her. She wouldn't chicken out this time.

Johnny approached her between groups. "We have a logistical problem. We'll need somewhere easy to gather and meet from time to time, but these addresses are rather spread apart. Some are in the city, but some are out in the nearby suburb."

She looked at the map he held. He was right; the addresses were randomly scattered and often distant from each other. "We'll figure something out. Ama lives in the suburb. Maybe she knows of a community building we can rent."

He frowned, but nodded. "I suppose something like that might do."

It took a few hours before they finally got to the last group. Sierra was thrilled to see Lisa in that group. "You'll be my roommate. We have an apartment in the city, not far from the compound." Sierra realized for the first time how eager she was to get back to the compound and re-enroll in her studies.

"Should we go together?" Lisa asked, gathering her things.

"Go ahead there and start talking to people. I have a couple stops to make first."

When the last group left, Tom led the way to the car. "Where next?"

"I need to stop by Ama's, then my compound." She glanced around the empty house. "You guys should go get settled. I can take the light rail."

"We told you, we're going to follow you from now on," Johnny said, tilting his head up importantly.

Tom gave him a look. "Quit sounding like a stalker."

"I'll come, too," Derek said. "You said the Observers were at your ama's house. They might've left behind a few tracking devices to listen and watch for you."

Tom paused, then nodded. "Fine. Let's go."

* * *

Ama almost screamed when she answered the door to find Sierra standing on the porch. "Oh, my goodness, Jaq!" She threw her arms around her granddaughter.

Derek put a finger against his lips, then slipped past her into the house.

"What? What's he doing?" Ama asked without relaxing her grip.

"He's just making sure the bad people can't find me here," Sierra managed to answer through the smothering embrace.

"You two!" She gave Tom and Johnny a fierce look. "You've been keeping my granddaughter safe?"

Johnny shoved at his glasses. "As much as we can, so much as—"

Tom elbowed him in the ribs, silencing him. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I like a young man who knows his manners." Ama finally relaxed and held Sierra at arm's length. "Look at you! I was so afraid that..." She sniffled. "Never mind that. You're home! Come in and have tea and dumplings and tell me everything."

"We should wait until Derek's done in there."

The older woman turned a critical eye and looked her over. "Something seems different about you."

"I have my memories back." She smiled. "I'm—I'm going by Sierra now. That was my name before. Thank you so much for telling me about the block."

Ama looked away. "You probably remember who your real family is, then."

Sierra pulled her into another hug. "My biological family, yes. I've always known who my real family is."

"Oh, sweetheart!" Ama squeezed tight.

Derek returned. "I think I got them all. Should be safe to come in now."

"Good, I was starting to get cavities out here." Tom brushed past the two women into the house.

Sierra rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him. He's... grouchy."

It took only moments for Ama to whirl through the kitchen and deliver a steaming mug of tea and a small plate of dumplings into everyone's hands. Sierra sat on the couch in the cushy spot, absorbing all the smells and feels of home.

"So you're safe now? Those people aren't going to come after you anymore?" Ama asked, sitting across from her and taking a sip of tea.

Sierra glanced at the men. "Well... sort of."

Ama frowned.

"We're safer now than we were before. But they might still come after us again."

"What about that nice Agent Ackerson? Can't he stop them?"

"He's working on it, but these people are really good at hiding."

"That's ridiculous. Hiding from the Enforcers, the very thought." Ama shook her head. "So why are you here? I thought you were going to stay somewhere safe until those people were all taken care of."

"It's... complicated." Sierra gave her ama a condensed version of the story, downplaying the life-threatening parts as much as possible.

Ama took a slow, long sip of her tea, scrutinizing Sierra over the rim of her cup. "You've never been interested in religion before."

"It's not really about religion for me. It's about that man who helped me."

"Hmm." She took another sip. A long pause passed in silence.

Sierra glanced at the men, unsure what to say.

Ama slapped her teacup down on her saucer. "Well, that's just rude!"

"What?" Sierra asked, startled.

"Everyone else is allowed to believe what they want. How ridiculous that these people would come after you just for believing something different!" She shook her head, sending curls flying wildly. "Religious persecution in this day and age? Unheard of!"

"We agree," Derek supplied. "But it's all true."

She scowled at him. "Well, it shouldn't be! I'm going to write a letter about this!"

Tom snorted and quickly turned it into a cough.

Ama eyed him, then the others in turn before settling her gaze back on Sierra. "I won't stand for that sort of nonsense. If anyone needs a place to stay, my door is open."

"Thanks, but everyone's settled in housing now. We're just a little spread out, that's all," Sierra said. "There is one thing, though. We're pretty spread out, and I was hoping you might know of a community building nearby we could meet in."

"That's not a problem. You can meet here. I'll make dumplings."

Johnny snorted a laugh and made no effort to hide it. "Sorry, but I hardly believe that eighty people will fit in this house."

"Not in the house, but in the garage. I haven't used that thing in years now. All of my things fit just fine in the house. It's been standing empty." She took another dainty sip. "Have a look for yourself. It's large enough to hold all your friends."

"I'm not sure that's best," Sierra said.

"Of course it is. There's plenty of space."

"No, I'm just worried..." Sierra took a deep breath. "They may come after us. Wherever we are. I don't want you to get hurt."

Ama set her teacup down. "I know what I'm getting myself into. And if it's good enough for my granddaughter to risk her life for, then it's good enough for me. Who wants more dumplings?"

Derek raised his hand.

Sierra couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Ama."

Her grandmother kissed her forehead. "That's what family's for, sweetheart."

* * *

After collecting Sierra's suitcase from the last time she was at Ama's house, promising to call Ama soon, and dropping Derek off at his new apartment, Tom and Johnny took Sierra to her compound.

"You guys can go ahead to your new place," she told them. "I'm just getting re-enrolled, then I'll be settling in. Nothing exciting. Nothing dangerous."

Johnny pushed his glasses into place. "Nope. We told you, you—"

"We'll wait in the car," Tom said. "Call if you need anything."

She smiled. "Thanks."

As she headed for the office, she remembered all the stuff she'd left in the dorm. How long had it been since she packed up a suitcase and dashed off to Ama's house? It felt like a lifetime had passed. Long enough for her to become a new person. She changed direction toward the dorms. If she was going to be living off-campus now, she should grab the rest of her things.

When she reached her old room and knocked on the door, Helena's voice sang in response. "Just a minute!"

Sierra's smile widened. It felt so good to hear that voice again.

The door creaked open. "Hey, are we going to the—" Helena broke off abruptly when she saw who it was. Her already pale face turned even whiter.

"Hey, Helena."

Helena's mouth opened and closed.

"Sorry I was gone so long." She smiled again. "It's so good to see you!"

"But you're dead!"

Now it was Sierra's turn to stare. "What?"

"You're dead! You can't be here! You're dead!"

Helena's voice was turning to a screech.

Sierra hurried inside and shut the door. "I'm not dead, Helena. It's me. Really." She held out a hand to her friend. "Why did you think I was dead?"

Helena sat on her bed and sniffled. "The Enforcers said so."

"What?"

"They came just a day after you left. Said you'd been in a car accident. They took all your stuff. I couldn't believe... but you were gone, and... You're really alive!"

"They took all my stuff?" Sierra looked around the room for the first time and saw how empty her half was.

"Who cares about that? You're alive!" Helena jumped up and threw her arms around her former roommate.

"Yes!" Sierra hugged her back, then disentangled herself from her exuberant friend. "I don't know why they told you I was dead, but I'm not. Obviously."

The Observers had probably wanted to look for evidence of who the warrior was. The thought triggered momentary panic. Had she left any evidence she could read the rock? But no, she'd never written anything down. She was safe.

"So if you're not dead, where've you been all this time?" Helena demanded. "What happened? You have to tell me!"

Sierra looked at her friend's eager face and tried not to laugh. Same old Helena. But then, this was exactly what she was supposed to do—spread the word.

"I was in trouble. There were people trying to kill me." She took a deep breath. "There still are."

Helena's eyes, though it seemed impossible, widened further. "Kill you?"

"It's kind of a long story."

Helena bounced herself around into a cross-legged position and raised her eyebrows, waiting.

Sierra couldn't help but laugh. "Okay. It started when the Enforcers arrested me. They—"

Someone knocked on the door, then it swung inward. "Aren't you ready yet?" Lydia asked. Her eyes widened at the sight of Sierra. "But... but..."

Deanna looked in from behind her. "What's wrong? Aren't we going..." She also stopped and stared.

Helena grinned. "Hey, Lydia, Deanna. You remember Jaq, right?"

"But she's dead!" Deanna squeaked.

"No, not dead," Sierra said.

"Come on," Helena urged them. "She's about to tell the whole story!"

Sierra felt an unexpected twinge. The girls had never been interested in her before. She couldn't expect them to be interested in her now. "If you guys had somewhere you were going, I don't want to keep you from—"

"Well..." Deanna seemed torn. "It sounds like it could be a pretty juicy story. I guess we can listen before we get going." She walked in and sat on the vanity chair.

Lydia followed a bit more slowly. "You're really alive?"

"Oh, just sit down and listen!" Helena demanded, pulling Lydia down next to her.

Sierra told the shortened version of the story, mindful of the men waiting in the car for her. "And now we're done hiding. We just hope nothing bad happens to us."

"Wow," Helena breathed.

"Wow," Deanna agreed.

"That doesn't sound right," Lydia declared, frowning. "People are allowed to believe whatever they choose."

Sierra nodded. "I know. Everyone but us, apparently."

"And a secret society that exists to silence beliefs they don't agree with?" Lydia pressed. "Sounds like some kind of conspiracy theory to me."

"That's what I thought at first, too. But that was before they attacked me."

Helena pushed Lydia. "You know Jaq—uh, Sierra. She wouldn't make this up."

Lydia frowned.

"What are you going to do if they come after you again?" Deanna asked.

"We're hoping that won't happen." Sierra leaned back. "I'm just looking forward to living like a real person again. Eat, sleep, go to classes..." She blinked in realization. "Sorry, but I need to re-enroll before the office closes. See you all later?"

"You bet! I want to hear more!" Helena replied. "You'll be back tomorrow?"

"Should be."

"Good. I'll see you then."

Deanna also bid her goodbye. Lydia didn't say anything.

Sierra hurried down to the office and made it in with five minutes to spare. To her relief, Agent Ackerson had already fixed the error in the system, and re-enrollment went smoothly enough. She finished quickly and returned to the car.

"Everything go okay?" Tom asked as she climbed in.

"Well enough. I was hoping to collect the rest of my stuff, but the Enforcers claimed I was dead and took my things after I went to the base with you guys."

Tom's brow creased. "Dead?"

"They took all your things?" Johnny asked. "They didn't—you didn't have anything in there that could be... dangerous? Used against you?"

"Yeah, the diary I kept when I was thirteen."

Tom snorted.

Johnny made a face. "That's not what I meant."

"No, I didn't leave any evidence that I'm the warrior."

"At least you were smart about something," Tom said.

She stuck her tongue out. "I'll need a few things from my old room in Ama's house. I can get those at the first meeting. When's that going to happen, anyway?"

"The sooner, the better," Tom said. "The people are still worried. The more they see you and talk with you, the easier it'll be for them." He pulled out onto the road. "We can have our first meeting tonight, after you've had a little time to get settled. Johnny and I'll call everyone and make sure they're there."

* * *

"Okay, okay, everyone settle down!" Tom shouted above the murmur of the crowd.

Sierra looked around at the mass of people. Ama had been right; now that the garage was completely empty, they had the space they needed. It was a little tight, but not claustrophobic. They might have to find folding chairs or something for their later meetings. No one looked comfortable sitting on the concrete garage floor.

"We should go back to the base!" one man shouted. "I saw three cars drive past my apartment over and over. The Observers are just waiting to snatch us up!"

Several others chimed in their agreement.

Sierra froze, taken aback. She hadn't expected this. They'd all been so much calmer when she talked to them before.

"Calm down and shut up," Tom barked out over the ruckus. As quiet settled once more, he turned to Sierra and waited.

Sweat turned her hands clammy. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. All the eyes fixed on her seemed to cut through her, just like before.

"Go ahead," Tom prompted, giving her a nudge.

She had to speak. She had to lead them. She'd failed before, but this was only eighty people, risking their lives on her say-so. She owed it to them to offer them some reassurance.

Sierra tried to force words out, but none would come. She fought the urge to run and hide under her bed, but she was quickly losing that battle.

Patrick stepped to her side. "I understand your concerns. I've lived up here for decades now, and I've had my share of close calls."

The crowd seemed to settle down a bit.

"It's true we're taking a risk." Patrick's voice remained level and comforting as he continued. "But I've always trusted in two things, and you can trust them, too. First, I trusted that Deunai would be with me. And second, I trusted that even if I was captured, Deunai would make sure something good would come of it."

He smiled. "In this case, if I get captured, people will hear about it and become aware of the Observers, and that will make it safe for the rest of my Onve brothers and sisters to come up here. Isn't that a worthy cause?"

The people murmured some more, but appeared mollified.

Sierra shrank into the background as Patrick spoke. Where she belonged. Shame kept her eyes on the ground. She'd had another chance to lead, and she'd blown it again.

"All right," Patrick continued. "Now, let's all—"

Ama burst into the garage, phone in hand. "Sierra! Get over here, now!"

Sierra jumped, startled out of her mental self-flagellations. "What's wrong?"

Her grandmother pressed the phone into her hands. "It's Agent Ackerson. He said it's urgent."

Sierra held the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Don't go to your apartment."

Her fingers tightened on the phone. "Why? What happened?"

"I don't know why, but there's been a raid ordered on your address. I'm working on getting it cleared up, but it's not safe for you there. Do you understand? Don't go home!"

Chapter 22

Sierra felt the blood rush from her face as her chest tightened. She opened her mouth, but once again couldn't force any sound out.

Tom took the phone. "Hello? Yeah, this is Tom. We met earlier." He listened for a moment. "Can't you track them through that? Fine, whatever. Call back when it's safe." He disconnected and pushed the phone back in Ama's hands. "Lisa! Get over here!"

Sierra closed her eyes and focused. Can't panic. It's going to be okay. I can breathe.

Johnny put a hand on her shoulder, a worried look on his face.

Ama hovered at her other side as Lisa joined them. "What happened? What's wrong?"

It only took another moment of concentration to force the panic away, freeing her lungs. She drew in a breath and looked at Lisa. "There's a raid on our apartment. We can't go home until Agent Ackerson clears it up."

"Already?" Lisa gasped.

"They worked fast," Tom said.

"They've already found her?" the one man cried. "They're already back in the system?" Panic and fear swept through the garage.

Patrick raised his hands. "Listen! This is actually good news. Sierra's friend in the Enforcers was able to detect the attack before it could be made. We're still safe."

The crowd continued to protest some, but he quieted them once more. "Thus far, it appears they're only targeting Sierra, but her friend is keeping her safe. Return to your apartments and wait. We'll send word when all is well."

The people reluctantly dispersed, still murmuring in displeasure.

Ama stared. "These people are trying to hurt my granddaughter again?"

Tom nodded.

The elderly woman looked horrified, but her expression quickly gave way to anger. "That's it! Both of you girls, in my car!"

"We should take them to one of our safe houses," Johnny said.

"No arguments! In the car!" Ama ordered, pushing Lisa and Sierra along ahead of her. She shooed the rest of the lingering Onve out of the garage as she went, then sealed up the house before sliding into her sporty ETC.

Sierra climbed through the front into the cramped backseat, leaving the more spacious front for Lisa. "Where are we going?"

"Right down to the Enforcer Center. I'm going to give that Agent Ackerson a piece of my mind!"

"He's already doing everything he can. Without him, we wouldn't have even had a warning—"

"Disgraceful, innocent people afraid to go to their own homes just because of what they believe! I won't stand for it!"

"I agree, honey, but—" Lisa started.

"And it's even worse that the Enforcer network—the network!—is being used like this!"Ama shook her head viciously. "Why, I'm going to write a hundred letters!"

Sierra leaned back as much as she could without bumping her head on the slope of the car's roof. She recognized her ama's mood well enough to know that the best thing to do now was to stay out of the tiny Cazael woman's way.

When they arrived at the Center, Ama barely parked the car properly before jumping out and storming up the steps to the lobby. She burst through the doors and barreled straight to the front desk, almost knocking a skinny Wuien man aside. "I need to speak with Agent Ackerson at once!"

The same pinch-faced receptionist eyed her. "One moment, ma'am. I'll be with you as soon as I'm done helping—"

Ama slapped both hands on the counter. "My granddaughter's life is in danger!"

The man looked past Ama and saw Sierra. "Her?"

"Yes!"

He glanced at the Wuien. "Sorry. I need to make a quick call, then I'll be back with you."

As the receptionist made the call, the Wuien leaned closer. "Cale Anders, official press liaison for the Enforcers. Did I hear that your granddaughter is in trouble?"

Ama's eyes brightened. "Yes. There are horrible people trying to kill her!"

Cale handed her a business card. "Give me a call once the Enforcers have it all straightened out. The people love success stories."

"I can tell you all about—"

He waved a hand. "Don't worry about the details now. Just give me a call once it's all over." He flashed a winning smile, then returned his attention to his notepad.

Ama eyed him for a moment, then pulled Sierra in front of her and began fussing. "My poor little dear granddaughter," she said loudly, "being chased down by horrible people who want to kill her just because she believes in a different religion than they do!"

Cale's eyes flicked in their direction, then back to his notepad.

Ama increased her volume. "And I can't believe that they already figured out how to hack into the Enforcer network AGAIN and use it to hunt her down and send the Enforcers out on false raids!"

Cale's pen stilled.

"I mean, it's bad enough that they already used the Enforcer network to have her falsely arrested, and even invaded my home, masquerading as Enforcers to try to get to her, but now they're actually ordering raids on her apartment, getting the Enforcers to do their dirty work for them!"

The reporter cleared his throat. "Beg pardon, ma'am, but I, uh, couldn't help overhearing. I hope you realize these are some pretty serious accusations you're leveling against the Enforcers."

Ama put on an over-dramatic surprised expression. "Oh, I wasn't accusing the Enforcers of anything! They haven't done anything wrong, after all. It's those horrible people who are hacking into the Enforcer network to get false arrests, false raids..." She wrapped her arms protectively around Sierra. "Or even just using the information in the network to track down where people live. Shameful, I tell you! Absolute disgrace!"

"You're saying that the Enforcer network has been compromised," Cale said, his eyes narrow.

"And of course the Enforcers are doing everything they can to bring those horrible people to justice," Ama said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Agent?"

Agent Ackerson slowed his approaching stride.

The elderly Cazael turned to him with an innocent smile. "I was just telling this nice reporter boy about how you heroically helped protect my granddaughter from those horrible people who keep trying to use your network. Isn't that right?"

"She claims that the Enforcer network has been hacked," Cale said. "Is that true?"

Sierra searched Agent Ackerson's face for any signs that he would validate Ama's claims. Getting an article in a major newspaper would all but guarantee their safety.

The agent paused, glancing back and forth between Cale and Ama.

Ama raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

He hesitated a moment longer, then jabbed a finger at the reporter. "I want it to be absolutely clear that the Enforcers never have and never will arrest, raid, or otherwise harass an innocent person. The individuals involved in this were acting on their own and have been or are being brought to justice for their behavior."

Cale was already furiously scribbling. "Absolutely, of course, yes. So, you mean to say that there are people who have hacked into the Enforcer network and used it for their own purposes?"

"It seems to be the case. We ended their connection earlier today, but they seem to have already found another way in. We're doing everything we can to track them down as quickly as possible."

"And what are their purposes? Why are they after this girl?"

Agent Ackerson shifted his weight. "It appears to be religiously based. Again, I want it to be perfectly clear that the Enforcers have done nothing wrong in this, and are actively working to bring these people to justice."

"Of course." Cale looked at him blankly as if surprised at the suggestion that anything else could be the case, then resumed his scribbling. "Religious disagreements? Are you sure? Everyone's been free to believe as they choose for centuries now."

Sierra took a deep breath, searching for the right words.

Ama beat her to it, once again displaying an innocent expression. "I know, isn't it shocking? There hasn't been religious persecution in ages, but here's this group trying to kill my poor dear and her friends just because they follow this Deunai religion!"

Cale's pen paused. "How do you spell that?"

Ama glanced back at the ladies, and Lisa quickly stepped up and gave the correct spelling.

"Is this going to go in your newspaper?" Sierra asked, barely daring to hope.

"As long as my editor clears it. If this is true, it's breaking news. I'm sure he won't shoot it down." Cale glanced at Agent Ackerson. "Can I quote you, sir?"

"Yes, as long as—"

"The Enforcers are the good guys. Always have been, always will be. Don't worry about it." Cale scribbled some more. "I'd like some more information about this religion. You know, for follow-up articles. People are going to want to know what's so bad about it that someone's trying to kill you for following it."

Ama shook her head. "That's the strangest part. There's nothing bad or wrong that they do. Those horrible people just don't like it for whatever reason, so they don't want my dear or her friends to tell anyone about it."

"Huh." Cale shot her another skeptical look.

"Of course, they're all meeting at my home again tomorrow evening," Ama continued. "You'd be welcome to come and see for yourself." She glanced at Sierra. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

She hadn't thought about another meeting, but it made sense. And if this reporter came to help spread the word...

A chill slipped up her spine. It meant she'd have to speak to the group. The one thing she couldn't do. And now a reporter would be witness to her shame.

She took a deep breath and forced the thoughts aside. This was the perfect solution, and she wouldn't let it fail because of her cowardice. "Yes. We'd be happy to have you."

Cale paused, then nodded. "Let me get your address and the time. I'll be there."

* * *

After staying the night at Ama's house, eating a generous breakfast, and once again gushing with Lisa over how amazing Ama's performance was, Sierra headed out for the compound. She climbed on the bus and walked all the way to the back, checking each unoccupied seat for newspapers, but all of the papers had been snatched up by earlier commuters. She plopped down, drumming her fingers on her backpack. Had the discussion with Cale happened early enough for his article to make the news today? The sooner it came out, the better. And safer.

Her fingers tugged at her hair the entire bus ride. When they stopped at the light rail station, she scrambled out and onto the train, dashing straight for the little café in the middle section. She squeezed her way through the crowd of people waiting for hot drinks until she reached the side display, which was covered with energy bars, magazines, and most importantly, newspapers. She snatched one off the rack and unfolded it, checking the top headlines.

There it was, top center: Devious Group Attempts to Smear Enforcer Reputation.

Her breath caught. Cale didn't think they were making it up to give the Enforcers a bad name, did he?

But no, Agent Ackerson had verified everything they said. The 'devious group' must be the Observers.

Relieved, she paid for the paper and worked her way back out of the café, skimming as she walked. Cale had emphasized the stuff Agent Ackerson said, but downplayed the religious part. Still, a paragraph at the bottom of the article indicated that the 'devious group' was religiously fueled, abusing the Enforcer network in order to hunt down a group of people believing in a God named Deunai.

She dropped into a seat, smiling. This was perfect. If the Observers tried anything now, millions of readers would know. Elias couldn't do a thing to them. Everything was turning out just right.

* * *

Sierra reached the door to her first class and grinned at the loud buzz of voices on the other side. Just like she remembered. The sounds and sights of the compound were almost just as much home to her as Ama's house.

She stepped inside, and the entire room fell silent.

Not like she remembered.

They're just looking at Helena, she told herself. No, that's not right. Helena wasn't with her. They were staring at her.

"Sierra!" Helena burst out, jumping up from one of the desks in the middle of the classroom. "Come on, sit by me!"

Unnerved by the stares, Sierra cautiously walked to the reserved seat. What she wouldn't give for an empty seat in the back of the classroom and a textbook to hide her face in. She dropped her bag beside the desk and slowly sat down.

The instant her rear touched the seat, everyone surrounded her.

"Is it true?"

"Is that article really about you?"

"Helena said you almost died!"

"Did you really meet an Agent?"

Helena frowned at the chaotic mass. "Back off and let her breathe already!" She leaned closer to Sierra. "I might've told your story to a couple people."

"A couple?"

"And they might have a few questions. Especially with that article in the news today. Did you see it?"

Sierra nodded.

"So is it true?" one of the students called out.

All eyes remained fixed on her. She again wished for a textbook to hide her face in. Come on, she told herself. These are people who know you, and they actually _want_ to hear about it. You can't chicken out this time.

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

One girl's eyes went wide. "They really had the Enforcers kidnap you?"

"Yeah, and they tried to kill her, too," Helena said, drinking in the attention.

The sound of a throat clearing sent everyone scurrying back to their desks. Professor Vonkaen stood at the front of the classroom, eyeing his students. He turned his scrutiny to Sierra. "Welcome back, Miss Vega. I've heard quite a bit about your activities since you were gone."

Sierra felt her cheeks warm. "Yes, sir."

"Then I look forward to hearing more. Now, if I have everyone's permission, I'd like to begin my class."

* * *

Sierra felt happily exhausted by the end of the school day. Helena had stayed by her side through it all, providing moral support and encouragement as students flocked her at every opportunity to hear more about her story, including the attempted attack last night. And most of them seemed to believe her, too, especially with the quotes from Agent Ackerson in the news article backing her up. She'd been right—the article was the perfect solution to make sure word spread fast.

The happy glow began to fade as she bid Helena goodbye and climbed on the light rail to go back home. She still had to speak at tonight's meeting in front of everyone—and a reporter. Her chest felt tight, and her stomach twisted itself into increasingly complex knots the more she thought about it.

She returned to her apartment and finished her homework in a distracted haze. What would she say? What if the others were still having trouble? How would she calm them down like Patrick did yesterday? What if they asked about the warrior again?

She tried to calm herself down. It will be okay. The people will listen to me, whatever I say. Because I'm Sierra.

A familiar chill crept across her. They treated her like a leader because she was the girl in the prophecy. What would happen when they learned that she was no leader? Or worse, when they learned the truth that she was the warrior? She shuddered at the thought.

"You ready?" Lisa called from the next room.

Sierra looked at the clock and realized it was later than she'd thought. Time to go to the meeting.

"Sure," she lied.

She tugged on her hair the entire trip. Lisa's attempts to cheer her up all failed miserably. Finally, Lisa patted her knee. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

If only she could believe that.

Ama's garage was already full when they arrived, and Cale stood near the back, taking pictures and waiting with notepad ready. To Sierra's relief, Patrick already stood at the front, talking to the people. He smiled and welcomed her to the front beside him, but resumed talking rather than pushing her to take the stage. She was entirely too happy to take the background role once more.

The meeting had a far more positive tone than the previous one. The article had sparked curiosity, and the same people who'd expressed doubts and fears now found that neighbors were actually approaching them with questions. A few even shared stories about coworkers or neighbors asking to learn more about Deunai.

As the meeting drew near a close, Patrick glanced back at Sierra and spoke quietly. "Did you want to say anything?"

She glanced over the pleasant faces staring at her. She could do this. She could say something. She opened her mouth.

And closed it again. She didn't want to say the wrong thing and screw things up. "I think you did a good job. Um, go ahead and end the meeting, I guess."

He nodded and turned back to the crowd. Sierra didn't hear what he said. She was too busy kicking herself. The people weren't even angry this time, and she'd still hidden in her cowardice rather than talk to them.

Cale found his way to Sierra's side as the people milled about, finishing off the last of Ama's dumplings and tea before leaving. "I'd like to ask you and some of the people here some more questions, if I can."

"Sure. Who do you want to talk to?"

"Anyone. Are there any people here who can tell me more about these Observers?"

Sierra looked around. Patrick, Tom, Johnny... Derek. Perfect. "Give me a minute to get them."

"See you later!" one of the men called, heading for the garage door.

Sierra waved distractedly as she headed toward Tom.

The garage door creaked open. The man let out a startled cry and stumbled backwards.

A wall of people several rows deep blocked the driveway, all dressed in riot gear with gas masks.

One man stepped forward and removed his mask. Elias.

Chapter 23

"We are here to offer you mercy," Elias declared. "We are willing to let you go free. Return to where you came from, and we won't come after you. Give us Sierra, and no one will be harmed."

No one moved.

Sierra's chest tightened. This wasn't supposed to happen. The article was supposed to protect them. Elias couldn't do anything to her without exposing the Observers. Could he?

Elias' eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you don't understand. We will not allow this assault on our city to go unanswered. But if you are willing to surrender Sierra to us, then we will allow you to return to hiding. We will not harm or pursue you."

Tom took a step forward, but Patrick put a hand on his arm, stopping him. He made her way through the crowd to the front. "We aren't here to assault anyone. You can see that we haven't committed any violence or caused any sort of harm."

"Does this man speak for you all?" Elias's gaze swept the crowd. His icy glare lingered on Sierra. "I come here to offer you a chance to peacefully leave without harm. You won't get this offer again."

Sierra glanced around. They'd be smart to take his offer and turn her in. It wasn't like she'd been much help, anyway. She couldn't even find the courage to tell them to keep up the good work. Maybe she should just turn herself in and be done with it.

Her eyes landed on Cale and widened with realization. If Elias knew the reporter was here, he wouldn't be so eager to attack and risk more exposure in the paper. She pushed her way forward. "You need to leave. See, there's—"

"If you will not comply, then we will be forced to attack!" Elias shouted.

"But listen, there's—"

"Fine!" He pointed forward. "Take them!"

A roar thundered from the mob as they charged forward.

Tom clamped an arm around Sierra and dragged her backwards, pulling her to the back of the garage and placing himself between her and the attackers. "Stay down!"

Cale scurried over and cowered beside her, his eyes as wide as headlights. "You were right!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think they'd come after us so soon."

He was already holding up his phone, recording the screaming, fighting mass of people. "They're never going to believe this!"

Only if that video made it out of the garage in one piece. The Observers probably wouldn't have any qualms about killing a reporter in the process of eliminating the Onve. She grabbed his arm. "Get inside! Find my ama and get out of here!"

Cale stayed put, shifting his weight to get a better angle.

A canister rattled across the floor toward them, spewing out a thick cloud of smoke.

Sierra's chest tightened. Choke gas. She shoved Cale. "Go!"

"You too!" Tom barked out, pushing both of them toward the door leading into the house.

Cale scampered ahead, still recording as he went. Tom had to push him to keep him steered in the right direction.

A shadow loomed through the cloud next to Tom. Sierra tried to scream out a warning, but no sound came.

The Observer swung hard, but Tom had already seen him. He deflected the blow, then slugged the man in the face, dropping him flat.

Cale opened the door into the house and hovered just inside the doorway, trying to tape every last image.

A hand seized Sierra's hair and yanked backwards. She flailed mutely and crashed to the floor. Vague forms struggled around her as a couple of Onve tried to pull the Observers away from her, but they were shaken off all too quickly.

She rolled, tried to regain her feet, but the grip tightened in her hair. A heavy boot slammed into her side. Lights flashed dizzyingly before her eyes.

Her vision cleared. Dark forms surrounded her. One leveled a gun at her. He wore a mask, but she could see his eyes. Elias.

Johnny slammed into Elias. Both men tumbled to the ground.

Sierra's vision blurred. No. She could breathe. She had to breathe.

Hands yanked her up, dragged her away. She dimly saw Tom in the space she'd just vacated, swinging wildly.

Had to breathe.

Patrick pulled her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her waist, and rushed her toward the exit.

A gloved hand clamped around her other arm, spinning both of them back. The Observer tightened his grip and swung his nightstick, aiming for her head.

Patrick lunged between them. The stick cracked across his skull. He crumpled to the ground.

Sierra gasped.

The Observer raised the stick again.

Everything suddenly seemed to move slower than normal. She turned away from Patrick's still form and took a full breath, her chest finally releasing its death grip.

Lunging sideways, she twisted her arm free and broke away from her attacker. Someone else grabbed her from behind. She turned to find another Observer pulling her toward the garage door. She kicked hard, connecting with his kneecap. He staggered, but regained his balance and backhanded her across the face.

Sierra's senses reeled. Her legs folded as she struggled to keep upright.

Tom grabbed the man and punched, sending the Observer's mask flying.

The Observer released Sierra and stumbled backwards, but remained upright. He pulled out a nightstick and charged Tom.

Sierra's eyes widened. Not again. Not for her.

She lunged, tackling Tom. They both went down. The nightstick swung wide over their heads.

Pain shot through Sierra's arm as she hit the concrete floor. Lights flashed around her again, and she heard a dull roar.

Had to get up. Had to fight.

Tom grabbed her, holding her down.

She wanted to scream at him. They had to get up. The Observers were going to kill them.

A wave of cool air washed over her. As her senses cleared, the dull roar differentiated into words.

"Anyone who does not comply will be dealt with severely to the full extent of the law! I repeat, this is the Enforcers. You are to drop all weapons immediately and take your positions. Anyone who does not comply will be dealt with severely to the full extent of the law!"

The bright lights weren't fading this time. Sierra squinted and realized they were Enforcer floodlights.

Clattering sounds filled the garage as the Observers dropped their weapons and obediently stood in position. A fine mist filled the room; she realized this was the source of the cool air she'd felt moments ago. The choke gas quickly dissipated.

The voice on the megaphone changed. "Sierra? Is Sierra in there?"

Agent Ackerson.

Tom struggled to his feet and helped Sierra up.

Enforcers immediately surrounded them and hurried them out of the garage, strapping oxygen masks over their faces on the way.

Ama and Cale stood next to Agent Ackerson, both wearing gas masks. Ama clutched her heaviest skillet. As soon as Sierra reached them, Ama tore off her mask and rushed to her granddaughter's side.

"My little sweetheart!" she cried, clutching Sierra close. "As soon as I heard that shouting, I ran straight to the phone, but they'd cut the lines. Cale and I had to hide upstairs and use his cell phone to reach anyone. And they wouldn't even believe us at first!"

"The Observers had marked in the system that this address was being used for a training exercise, so any calls of trouble should be ignored," Agent Ackerson explained. "Fortunately, your grandmother was smart enough to ask them to contact me."

Sierra lifted the oxygen mask. Her voice came out as thick as the last time she'd encountered choke gas. "I'm just glad you two were safe. I'm amazed they didn't try to come after you in the house."

"Who said they didn't?" Ama brandished the skillet. "It takes more than a few punks in riot gear to get to your ama."

"Glad she's on our side," Tom mumbled into his mask.

Cale waved his phone. "I got a lot more from the upstairs window. My editor's going to go into conniptions when he sees this!" He glanced at Agent Ackerson. "Can I get my statement to you later? I've got to get to the office to get this in tomorrow's paper."

"Go ahead. I know where to find you."

As Cale jogged off to his car, Johnny limped out of the garage, his glasses sticking out at odd angles.

"You made it," Tom said.

"In a manner of speaking." Johnny brushed futilely at his clothes.

"Did you see Patrick? Is he okay?" Sierra asked.

"He'll be in the hospital for a short period of time, but he'll recover."

Agent Ackerson turned to Sierra. "It's time we discussed protective custody. My supervisor will assign an entire division of Enforcers to track down the rest of these people, but it will take some time. We need to keep you safe until then."

"Absolutely," Johnny agreed. "It's crucial, especially at this stage, that she remain unharmed. Tonight was entirely too close."

"We can't just give up now!" Sierra protested. She wasn't sure why Elias had tried an attack with all the media attention, but with Cale's video of tonight's attack, there was no way the Observers could try anything again.

"The rest of us will remain here and continue doing as we need, but you are far too important to lose now," Johnny said. "It's best for everyone if you are kept somewhere safe and hidden until the Observers can be stopped."

"Right." Tom snorted. "Because the Observers have no way of finding out where she might be while they still have access to the Enforcer network."

Johnny paused. "Oh. Good point. I suppose the best recourse would be to return her to the base until we can guarantee her safety."

Sierra shook her head. "We all knew it was dangerous when we first came up here. But we can't let them scare us into hiding. Didn't you hear what Elias said? They want us to go back to hiding in the base. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction."

"I can't guarantee your safety if you remain here," Agent Ackerson warned.

"No, but you'll do everything you can," Ama declared, linking her arm with Sierra's. "She's going to stay right here with me, and you're going to assign Enforcers to protect her. And you're going to find the rest of those people and bring them to justice."

Sierra kissed Ama's cheek. "I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing. Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay."

"Don't think this will last for long!" a voice broke in.

They turned to see Elias being escorted from the garage by two Enforcers, his hands sealed behind his back. He glared at them and said nothing more.

"Go on, get them out of here!" Agent Ackerson ordered. He shook his head. "I assure you, these people won't see the light of day for a long time."

Sierra watched as Elias was led to the waiting Enforcer trucks, the rest of the Observers behind him. A comforting sense of security unfolded in her chest. Once these people were locked up, once the Enforcers put them away, it would be okay. They were all going to be safe again.

Elias looked back over his shoulder just before he was put in the truck. He caught Sierra watching. A smirk crossed his face.

Sierra's breath caught.

The Enforcers shoved him into the truck, and he disappeared from sight.

* * *

The next morning, not even a cleared throat from Professor Vonkaen could bring order to the classroom. The entire campus was in an uproar over the morning's articles and video footage showing the attack. Students constantly crowded Sierra, asking questions, telling her how brave she was, gasping over how amazing it was to know someone from the news, and oohing and ahhing over her new bruises.

Sierra felt better with every pat on the back. They'd been right—Elias's attack had done nothing but expose his secret society. No one so much as suggested that the Observers could just be a conspiracy theory anymore. Though her body still hurt, the memory of last night was quickly turning distant, and Elias's threat seemed more and more like empty bluster from a defeated but proud man.

She couldn't help but smile. Things were definitely looking up.

* * *

"Is there a particular reason you chose to defy orders?" one of the members of the directorate demanded.

Elias cringed inwardly, but maintained his composure. He'd expected the directorate to move quickly in freeing him from Enforcer custody. He hadn't expected this scrutiny. "The Onve have always proven cowardly. Shows of force in the past were enough to keep them silent."

Another leaned forward, eying Elias across the table. "We decreed that the Onve had made themselves too public for action at this point. Not until we could coordinate a decisive strike."

He refused to fidget. He'd done what was best. It was only poor fortune that this one agent happened to be suspicious. "If the directorate had done as I suggested and ensured this Agent Ackerson be removed from his position, the raid would have been completed as planned. The Onve would have been forgotten within a week."

"There is a reason that such decisions are made by the directorate and not you. You neglect the people's love for scandal. Any attacks or disappearances now will only fuel curiosity." The directorate member narrowed his eyes. "That is why we were waiting until proper answers were in place before we made our strike. But now you have acted, leaving the people with no conclusion to draw but that these rumors they heard must be correct. You have endangered our entire cause!"

"It is not beyond repair!" Elias caught himself and reigned in his tone, keeping it level. Even. In control. "They follow a child—a fearful, weak child. We can use her to place the necessary answers into the people's minds."

The directorate murmured.

"And how would you propose to do that?"

"Public renunciation. If she were to publicly confess that she fabricated it all, then all Onve would lose credibility. We could then eliminate them without notice."

"Don't be absurd. Child or not, your plan will only work if you gain her willing cooperation. And your actions have all but guaranteed that will never happen."

He gritted his teeth. Took a deep breath. In control. "I respectfully disagree. I have personally convinced hundreds of people to cooperate with our aims. This girl is no different. I guarantee that I can get her to bend to our will."

"And how would you make this guarantee?"

"I have a special solution. My own mix. I use it only on the most difficult cases in order to crack them. And have I ever failed you before?"

Silence.

He straightened and continued. "Without going into the technical details, the solution causes a unique experience of pain while clouding and manipulating the mind. I could tell a subject that he's actually a lion, and he would still believe it months later."

He eyed the directorate, making sure he had everyone's attention. "I will remove the girl to a secure location and use the solution on her. Then all it takes is a few whispers. She's a fearful one. Full of doubts." He paused, letting his words sink in. They would see the mastery of the plan. They wouldn't be able to help but appreciate the genius of it. "I will whisper to her the same doubts that have been plaguing her all this time. She'll be convinced in a matter of minutes."

"I've heard enough," the leader declared, standing.

He held back a smile. She'd seen the brilliance. He would be given clearance to proceed.

She looked down her nose at Elias. "You will remain free for the time being, but understand you walk on dangerous ground. You will not act without explicit orders from the directorate. You will not pursue the Onve or the girl at this time. You will wait and obey until the time comes that we have enacted the appropriate plan to eliminate the Onve without leaving questions in the people's minds. Words are our greatest tool at this time; you will not take action until the proper words are in place. Are we understood?"

Red flashed before his eyes.

In control. In control. In control.

Elias held his head high. "I understand."

"Good. You are dismissed."

He turned and left the room, walking steadily, calmly. In control.

He knew what he had to do. He was going to find that witch. Turn her. Make her give a tearful, convincing confession of her elaborate hoax to the world.

And then he was going to burn her.

Chapter 24

After classes, Johnny and Tom took Sierra to the hospital to visit Patrick. He was eating a selection of nearly colorless hospital food when they arrived. Sierra cringed at the large bandage wrapped around his head.

"It looks worse than it actually is," he assured her. "I'm just glad to see you made it out in one piece."

"And I'm glad you're all right." She sat down in the chair next to his bed.

"They're releasing me later today. But you—I really think you should consider returning to hiding. That was a bold move on the Observers' part. I don't think they're finished yet."

Sierra shook her head. "Have you seen all the news reports? They literally can't do anything more now. Everyone knows about them and what they're after."

"While I agree on principle that she should return to the base, I have to say she makes a valid point," Johnny said. He adjusted his glasses. "If they are wise, they will remain in secret, providing no further evidence of their existence. In time, with this lack of evidence, the current hullabaloo will diminish, and they will be able to resume their activities in secret. Though, of course—"

"They're not going to scare us back into hiding," Tom interrupted. "Any of us."

Sierra smiled at him.

Patrick took another bite. "I imagine we've gotten some extra attention from all this."

"I could barely take two steps at the compound today without someone new charging up with a whole list of questions!" She leaned back in her chair. "Some people even wanted to know more about Deunai."

"I'd say that won't be changing anytime soon. Good. We just have to make sure our actions line up with what we teach." Patrick poked at something that looked like meat. It jiggled. "You'll talk to the people about that at the meeting tonight?"

Sierra stared blankly for a moment, then realization sucked the air from her lungs. Patrick was hurt. She'd have to lead the meeting tonight. She'd have to speak.

Johnny seemed oblivious to her distress. "Actions? What do you mean?"

"The city's accepted us now, and it's going to be tempting to become complacent. We need to make sure our main focus remains on the goal—showing love—regardless of whether the attitudes around us are hostile or welcoming." He put his fork down and pushed the tray away. "I've seen it happen before. It never ends well. You have to keep the people focused on the main thing."

Sierra didn't answer. She couldn't.

Tom folded his arms. "I'll tell them. She'll just wimp out again."

Shame heated her face. She shook her head quickly. "No, I'll do it. I can do it."

Tom gave her a skeptical look.

She nodded, more to convince herself than him.

"You'll do fine," Patrick assured her.

After saying goodbye, Sierra, Johnny, and Tom left the hospital and piled into Tom's waiting car. "Where to, miss?" Tom asked, propping his hands on the wheel like an old-fashioned chauffeur.

Sierra managed a smile. "Home. I need to... prepare for the meeting."

"Good plan. We'll be back later to pick up you and Lisa."

The men dropped her off at her apartment building, and after one last wave goodbye, Sierra climbed the stairs up to her place. Dread and fear tugged at her, but she did her best to push them back. She could do this. Patrick had already told her what needed to be said. All she had to do was stand in front of the group and say it.

Right, she thought sarcastically. Piece of cake.

She unlocked the door and entered the apartment. "Lisa? You home?" It was still early—her roommate probably wouldn't be home for another hour or two. She locked the door, then headed for the kitchen to make some tea.

Before she reached the doorway, a hand clamped tightly on her arm. Something sharp pierced her skin. She gasped and spun away, pressing her back against the wall.

Elias smiled at her. "Good afternoon."

Her chest tightened. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She had to run. Had to get away.

Her legs were suddenly gone. Her back slid down the wall until she was seated on the floor. She could feel every fiber of the carpet pressing against her jeans, digging the rope-like threads of the material into her flesh. Every little bump in the wall jutted into her back like boulders.

"Not very comfortable, I'm afraid, but it seems that other methods are worthless on you." He crouched down next to her and pulled her arms through the sleeves of a jacket. The cloth ground against her skin like sandpaper.

"N-no..." she managed to mumble. All of her senses shrieked for attention. The light, the colors around her were too bright, tearing through her brain like lasers. She could barely understand his words as his voice thundered in her ears.

"There we are," he murmured, zipping up the jacket. She cringed at the clash of metal on metal, but he was already pulling the hood up, covering her head. It pressed heavily, turning her hair into thousands of tiny needles in her scalp.

"Please..."

"I know," he soothed. "I know." He slid an arm around her waist, sending her senses into a renewed cacophony at the pain. He pulled her upright and walked steadily, calmly toward the hallway.

"No..." She tried to push at him, but even trying to move was agony as she felt every muscle fiber, every cell shift within her.

He dragged her back through the apartment to the fire escape, where the escape's lift sat, waiting. He pushed her onto it first, then climbed on behind her.

"Stop..." A tear escaped her eyes, scorching her cheek all the way down. Her whole body shook, creating new pains and sensations.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this." He activated the lift, steadily lowering them toward the ground. It felt as if she was falling down an endless tunnel. "This would have been much easier on you if you had cooperated sooner."

The lift rattled to a stop at the end. Another tear burned her face. She could hardly breathe.

He pulled her up once more and deposited her in the back of a waiting car, then climbed into the front seat. The metallic latches thundered through her ears. "But we're going to fix all that now. There's no need for anyone else to get hurt or killed. Believe it or not, I'm a reasonable man. We can reach a reasonable solution. You'd like that, wouldn't you? No more killing?"

She trembled. "Please..." Her own voice grated against her ears, but she pushed forward anyway. "Let me go."

"Certainly. I look forward to doing so and being done with this matter. I know our goals are ultimately the same. I don't wish to see anyone else hurt, you don't want to see anyone else hurt. I can make this happen."

The car moved forward smoothly, but the sensations churned bile in her stomach. She gagged trying to hold it down.

"I truly am sorry for this. Close your eyes. It will be over soon."

"No..."

"Don't try to talk. It will only feel worse in the long run."

She closed her eyes, and another tear fell. Fog muddled her brain, making it hard to think clearly. This couldn't be happening. The Observers were supposed to go into hiding. But instead, they were changing their tactics, apparently no longer caring if they were found out. She'd underestimated them, and now she was paying for it.

The trip was agonizing, but mercifully short. Before she knew it, the car pulled to a stop. This time, she did lose her lunch.

"I imagine that didn't feel pleasant." Elias climbed out and leaned over her in the back seat, wiping the remnants of sick away from her mouth. "There we are. Better. Don't worry. The sensations will diminish shortly. I'm not interested in causing you any further pain."

He did seem to be gentle as he lifted her out of the seat and half-carried her to an elevator. She closed her eyes again and hoped he was right, that it would be over soon.

The elevator rose, then opened to a small room with two chairs on either side of a small table. Elias sat her in one of them.

"This may be unpleasant, but it will help," he said, holding a cup to her lips. "Drink."

The liquid poured into her mouth, freezing every surface it touched, even down to the roots of her teeth. She gagged and tried to pull away, but he held the cup firmly until she swallowed.

"There we are. Just relax." He set the cup in front of her, the hollow clatter thundering in her ears. "If you want more, just ask."

She managed to wiggle her head in some approximation of a shake.

"You may change your mind." He walked around to the other side of the table and faced her. "As I said, you and I have similar aims. We don't want to see anyone else hurt. We don't wish for any more killings. And I know how it can all stop."

The chair pressed against her, making her muscles tremble even more. Her stomach churned again. Something he was saying seemed wrong, but she couldn't focus her thoughts enough to sort it out.

"Here. Take another sip." He held the cup against her mouth again until she swallowed a little more.

"You think that I'm against your new-found religion, but you misunderstand my aims." He set the cup back down.

For some reason, the clattering wasn't as bad as before. And her stomach seemed to be calming, though her clothes still ground against her skin. Maybe the drink was helping. Maybe he really was helping her. No, that's not right. He was the one who did this to her. He was the bad guy.

He moved in front of her face. "What I'm against is religious people lying to make others help them. Lead them."

Words swam through her head in a dizzying array. She was supposed to lead. They wanted her to lead.

"You've always known the truth, after all, no matter how much they try to sway you with their lies. Whether you're Jaq Vega the college student or Sierra Riglen the Onve, it doesn't matter. They were wrong about you. You aren't the leader they want you to be."

They wanted her to lead, but she couldn't lead. She couldn't even talk in front of them. Her body shuddered, triggering a wave of nausea. She struggled to keep control, though her brain screamed in protest against the felt invasion of her soul.

"It wasn't fair of them to put you in this position. It wasn't right."

It wasn't right. Her lips moved, causing a new wave of pain through her body. "You... Enforcers..."

He sighed loudly. Too loudly. It shot through her ears like a hurricane. "You're right. We erred, and we are sorry for that. We only came after you because the Onve attention was on you. We were afraid they would deceive you and use you to start their religious war."

Something wasn't right. There was some logic missing, something false to what he said. She struggled against the fog clouding her brain, the dizzying array of sensations, to try to figure out what it was.

He lifted the cup to her lips again. It wasn't as cold as last time. As she swallowed, the sensations seemed lessened somehow. He was making things better.

Elias smiled a friendly smile. "That feels better, doesn't it?"

He wanted to help her. Make things better. No, that wasn't right. Was it? She couldn't tell.

The smile persisted. "I want to help you, Sierra. I want to help you make all this go away so you can go back to your real life. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Because you already know the truth. You're no one important, are you."

That part she knew for sure was right. She wasn't anyone important. Not a leader. He must be right about the other things, too. She motioned for the cup again, and he helped her take another sip. The pain decreased some more. He really did want to help.

"And more than helping you get your real life again, we can also make sure your friends are safe. Protected. I can make that happen, but I'm going to need your help."

He could help her get her real life again. The fog was so thick in her mind that she wasn't sure exactly what 'real life' meant, but it sure sounded good. And she didn't want her friends hurt. He said he would protect them. She nodded.

"Are you ready to help me, Sierra?"

She had to take another sip before she could speak. Her voice grated across her throat. "Yes."

His smile widened. He seemed nice. She liked him. His voice came even more gently now. "Relax now. Everything's going to be okay. All you have to do is tell the truth."

That sounded right. Tell the truth. That's what she was supposed to do.

"Tell the truth about how all this was a hoax."

No, that wasn't right. Was it? The fog pulled all the words and sensations together, twisting and twirling them together until it was all upside-down. "It... not a hoax."

"It was a hoax."

The fog agreed. "It was a hoax."

"That's right." He sounded proud of her. She liked that. "We'll put you on television so you can tell the world."

She knew for sure that wasn't right. She shifted her weight and winced at the accompanying pain. He gave her another sip, and the pain once again faded into the ever-thickening fog. She clung to the thought, though. He had to know. Her words came out muddled. "I can't... talk. On TV."

"Yes, you can."

The fog agreed again. "Yes, I can."

"Good." He held the cup out to her.

She tried to take it, but her arms still wouldn't cooperate. It didn't hurt as much to move anymore, though. He'd made things better.

A new thought tried to push its way through the fog. About another man who'd made things better. Who was that? She struggled to reach for the thought, to pull it closer and examine it.

"Here. Let me help you." He pressed the cup against her mouth and tilted it.

She drank eagerly, and the last traces of the pain vanished. She felt her muscles begin to regain strength. The fog slid back into place. That's right. Elias was the one helping her. She knew that.

"That feels better, doesn't it."

She nodded.

He walked over and opened the door. "You can leave if you want. You should be able to walk now."

Sierra tested her legs, then cautiously pushed herself to a standing position. She felt wobbly, like the day after the flu, but after a couple steps forward, her limbs regained their strength.

Elias motioned to the door again. "Would you like to leave?"

Did she? No, she was supposed to be doing something. "I have to tell the truth."

"What truth?"

The fog deposited the right words in her mouth. "It was a hoax. I'm not anyone important. I have to tell everyone." Something still seemed wrong about that last part, but the fog assured her that she was correct.

"Come with me, then. I'll help you."

Her friend. The one who helped her. She smiled and took his offered hand. "Thank you."

Chapter 25

Tom scowled at Derek as the Onve around him murmured. No one had seen Sierra since he and Johnny dropped her off at her apartment. No one even realized she was missing until they returned to pick her and Lisa up for the meeting. Lisa had gotten home to an empty apartment and assumed Sierra was still visiting Patrick.

They'd gone ahead to the meeting, hoping Sierra had decided to take public transportation to her ama's house and just forgot to leave a note. The elderly Vega had nearly panicked when she found out her granddaughter was missing again. Her call to Agent Ackerson produced no results; there was nothing in the network to indicate where she was or what might have happened to her. The agent had promised to use every resource he had to find her right away, but Tom doubted the man would be much help. Which had led to the current argument.

"You have to know where she is," Tom insisted. "You spent years working with them!"

Derek shook his head. "I only worked out of one of their bases. He wouldn't have taken her to the same place I already know. He's too smart for that."

"You should have told us they wouldn't lay low at the threat of exposure," Tom growled. Anger coursed through his veins. He'd promised to protect her, and he'd failed.

"They should have! This goes against everything in their nature, their policies, the directorate..." Derek flung his hands in the air. "This isn't like them at all."

"Then who else would it be?" Tom demanded.

The door opened, and Mrs. Vega filled the frame, her body trembling. "You need to see this."

Johnny gave her a curious look, but she was already returning to the living room. Tom strode after her, sickness building in the pit of his stomach. The Observer attack hadn't fazed the woman in the least. What had happened to make her shake like this?

The TV glowed brightly with two figures on the screen. Mrs. Vega waved toward it. "It turned itself on and... this."

Sierra stood in front of a pale wall, staring at the camera with an almost-glassy look. Tom squinted at the man standing beside her. His fists tightened. Elias. The man looked different. He'd somehow disguised himself, enough so to be unrecognizable to someone who'd only seen the shaky video of the previous night's attack. But Tom knew that face anywhere.

Johnny's eyes widened. "That's—he must have used the Enforcer emergency network to broadcast. Agent Ackerson can trace the signal, right?"

Mrs. Vega was already dialing the phone.

Derek's mouth worked a couple times before he was able to speak. "I know where he is."

Tom caught the smaller man by the front of the shirt. "You said you didn't know where she was!"

"It's an abandoned building! I didn't expect—he must be working on his own. Without directorate approval."

Tom was already marching to the door with Derek in tow. "Let's go."

* * *

Sierra waited while Elias talked. The fog made his words sound funny, but she understood them well enough after they took a moment to process through the fog. He said he was a reporter with the local station. That he had breaking news about the recent reports on a secret temple society. That he'd uncovered the truth.

He turned the microphone to her.

It all looked so realistic. He wore a nice suit like reporters wore. The microphone looked just like the one she'd seen on TV all the time. The camera stared at her with a steady red light, beckoning her answer.

Right. She was supposed to be talking now. "About the Observers." No, that wasn't the part she was supposed to say out loud. What was it again?

He smiled at her patiently. "Yes, you said you had something to tell everyone about the stories you've been spreading, claiming that a group called 'the Observers' are after you. What did you want to say?"

The Observers weren't real. She'd made it up. A hoax. That's what she was supposed to say. He'd be so proud of her. She opened her mouth.

Something didn't quite feel right, still. Had she gotten part of it wrong? She paused. She didn't want to talk until she was sure she was saying the right thing. Something seemed off. Something about a man.

The fog slid. A sliver of light poked through. Something told her that this was the part she'd gotten wrong. She had to catch it before the fog moved back into place.

"Miss?" Elias prompted.

She ignored him this time. Reached for the light, the missing thought. It felt like daggers tore through her mind as she pushed through the fog, and the pain made her recoil. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she hadn't missed anything after all.

But the light beckoned to her, and despite the pain, she felt herself drawn to it. She gritted her teeth and pushed harder. Reached in her mind to find what was behind that light. The blades dug in, cutting her with each step closer, but she pushed forward. She had to know.

A man's face filled her mind. The fog fled in his presence.

Sierra gasped. Blinked. Everything looked different. Elias stood beside her wearing some strange sort of makeup and wig, looking like a cheap clown. Debris surrounded them, pushed to the sides of the room, just out of the camera's view. A tawdry charade.

Horror flooded her system as the last wisps of fog vanished from her mind. She'd been ready to claim that this whole thing was a hoax. That she was no one important, and she'd made it all up.

The man in her mind smiled. His voice washed over her mind. "To me, 'just Jaq' is still pretty special."

Warmth replaced the horror. She was important to him. She wasn't anyone special, but he'd chosen her anyway. That was all that mattered.

Elias looked impatient now. "Miss? You were saying?"

Her eyes shifted to the camera. He wanted her to say it was all a hoax. He was trying to get her to discredit the news reports so the Observers could act in secret again.

And now she could tell the truth.

She opened her mouth, but her throat turned dry. Panic swept in. She hadn't been able to talk to hundreds of people in the base. Or eighty people in a meeting. Even when they were happy, she hadn't been able to say one sentence of encouragement.

And now she had to speak to millions of viewers on the television.

Her chest tightened.

"Excuse us," Elias said to the camera. "She's understandably distressed about coming forward with the truth after all the attention she's gained."

He was stalling, buying time. He still expected her to go along with his lies.

He squeezed a button on the tiny remote in his other hand, and the light flashed yellow. They were muted. He turned to her. "Remember what we talked about?" he whispered, keeping his mouth movements small so no one would notice him talking. "It was a hoax."

A new fear stabbed her heart. Elias didn't realize she was no longer drugged. What would he do to her when he found out?

It would be so easy to lie. To say that it was a hoax. To play along until she could get free, then try again once she was safe.

The image of the man stayed in her mind. Waiting. Watching her.

I can't do this! she wanted to scream at him. I can't talk to millions of people. I couldn't even talk to eighty. I'm too much of a coward. Especially with Elias here. He'll kill me if I don't play along.

He gave her a gentle smile. More of his words slipped through her mind. All he asked was that she try. And he'd give her whatever she needed when the time came.

"I'm ready." Her voice came out as barely a squeak. She cleared her throat and said it again, clearer this time. "I'm ready."

Elias gave her a strange look. He suspected something was wrong. But he tapped the button again, and the yellow light vanished. "Go ahead, miss. The people deserve the truth."

If only he knew.

She took a deep breath. Whenever she tried to make herself speak in front of an audience, she couldn't. She'd even run away from it before. But all she could do now was try and hope the man came through on his promise.

"I... I need to say..." Her throat dried even more. She struggled to swallow. Took another deep breath. Spat it out. "The Observers are real."

Confidence swelled through her. Fear vanished, swallowed by the more powerful sensation flooding her. She straightened, and the words flowed with ease. "We've been under attack for our belief in Deunai. But Deunai is real, and—"

Rage flashed through Elias's eyes. He took half a step behind her, and she felt something sharp press against her back.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," he hissed in her ear. "I've no qualms about ending you right here and now." He put on a perplexed expression. "Miss, that isn't what you said to me before. You said the Observers and the attack was all a hoax you came up with to get attention. Isn't that right?"

She stifled a gasp as the sharp point of the blade dug into her skin. Her chest tightened. He was going to kill her. She would never see her ama again. Never get to graduate. To find a job. To live.

Unless she lied. Unless she declared that it had all been a hoax.

The man's image stayed in the front of her mind. His eyes met hers, intense, waiting. His lips looked like they wanted to curve into a smile once more.

Tell the truth, his book said. She knew the truth. Die or not, she couldn't go back.

The image smiled.

Her chest relaxed. She drew in a steady breath. "You're right. I need to tell the truth. The truth is, Deunai loves us all. But you didn't want me to say that, because you're an Observer, and you—"

Fiery pain tore through her body. She gasped and looked down at the bloodied tip of a blade emerging from her chest.

She turned her head. Met his eyes.

Elias seethed, glaring with pure hatred.

Fingers of ice wrapped around her. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Everything blurred.

A breeze washed over her skin. The pain vanished.

She looked toward the door. A smile spread across her face as the man stepped around the camera. Peace washed over her. "He's here."

Elias yanked the knife free.

The man held out his hands, caught her as she fell.

She gazed into his eyes, feeling the same love and warmth as before. "I'm ready to go."

The man smiled at her like a father bursting with pride. He kissed her on the forehead, gathered her up in His arms, and they were gone.

* * *

It took Elias a moment to fight the impulse to drive the blade into the girl's still form a few more times.

In control. In control. In control.

The camera was running. He pressed the second button on the control in his hand. Disconnected the signal.

Then sent the camera flying across the room. It shattered on the wall, sending a shower of broken electronics across the body.

Elias gripped the knife. Glared at her a moment longer. What had possessed her? She'd been foolish. And now all her friends would die anyway.

He tossed the knife carelessly on top of her body and strode from the room.

This wouldn't take long to clean up. He'd snatch that agent up, that obnoxious man who'd been hounding his steps for the last couple days. The agent would know where to find the each of the Onve. He'd smoke out every last one of them. Make them disappear.

The directorate wouldn't be happy.

He stepped into the elevator and rested against the handrail, drumming his bloody fingers on it. Very well. He would take the fall so their work could continue unimpeded. He would claim to have been working on his own. He'd be arrested. Probably executed. But the Observers would continue on.

The elevator chimed. The doors opened. He hurried to his car. He'd have to work quickly now. The Enforcers had no chance of finding this building, but that wouldn't stop them from looking. He'd check the network to see where the agent had gone. Pick him up before any further damage could be done.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Turned.

Tom slugged him across the face.

He fell, reeling. Staggered back to his feet in time to receive another punch.

Elias pulled himself together and lashed out with a leg, driving the taller man a few steps back. He reached for his stun gun. This fool would be the next Onve to die.

Someone grabbed him from behind. Spun him around.

Derek drove a blade straight into his abdomen.

He trembled. His knees locked as shock took over.

Derek held the blade in place for several moments, then slowly drew it out. "You taught me well, sir."

Elias crumpled to the ground.

The younger man dropped the blade on top of him. Sat down at his side. Tossed a cell phone at Tom. "Call the agent. And Johnny." He looked down at Elias. "I thought you'd leave well enough alone once you saw they weren't starting a religious war. That's why you always said you were after the Onve, and I believed you. I guess I was wrong about a lot of things. I'll be going to jail, I'm sure. But you Observers are finished."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Distant sirens wailed, drawing closer.

Elias's world faded to nothing.

* * *

The sun slipped behind a few light clouds, casting a gentle shadow on the mourners below. The funeral was supposed to be a quiet affair, but Cale managed to 'accidentally' leak the details. The cemetery was packed with people who had come to pay their respects.

Already many people had come forward to share memories of Sierra, and in the process the truth about Deunai had been repeated several times. Many more were lined up for their chance to speak.

After Ama had tearfully spoken, Richard took the platform. "There's a lot to be said about Sierra, much of which has already been said. Her wisdom in learning a truth we'd missed for generations, her devotion to Deunai in spite of how new she was to our world... She's an inspiration to us all."

He tilted his head. "But there's something that hasn't been said. Something only a few of us knew. We all knew her as Sierra, the little girl from the prophecy who would reveal the warrior. We knew her as the girl who turned our world on its head by telling us that we'd had it wrong, that the warrior wasn't coming to fight for us, that we needed to live in obedience before we could be blessed by the warrior's presence.

"What we never realized—never saw—was that we were already blessed." He looked down at the fresh grave beside him. "She was the warrior."

Gasps filled the air.

"She fulfilled the prophecy not by bringing a physical sword and fighting for us, but by bringing us truth. And freedom." He straightened. "In spite of her doubts and fears, she pushed us to do the one thing we had never dared. And because of her courage and obedience to Deunai, we can now live in freedom to worship and believe as we choose, no longer hiding underground in fear but living freely in the open. What we should have been doing from the beginning."

He looked out across the crowd. "We expected a fighter, a powerful person to come down and smite our enemies. Sierra wasn't anything like that. But I don't think there's a single person here who can deny that she was, in fact, Deunai's warrior."

* * *

Johnny puffed his way up the hill at the side of the cemetery and dropped onto the bench next to Tom. For a few moments the two remained silent, looking down the hill at the mass of people gathered below them.

"I never dreamed it would end like this," Johnny said. "When she first called me... I just never even imagined..."

"None of us did."

Johnny smiled in spite of himself. "'My warrior will wield My sword and lead you to freedom.'" He looked over the crowd below. "I'd say so."

Tom grinned. "And there's no stopping it now."

THE END

About the Author

I enjoy life with my life-mate and little sprout in the Pacific Northwest. I obtained a degree in Counseling Psychology from Northwest University in Kirkland, WA, which I use to create fully dimensional characters with unique personalities and quirks. In fiction, I'm a huge fan of all things speculative: anything where the rules of reality need not apply. My books include traditional fantasy, space fantasy, post-apocalyptic, and more. When not writing, I can usually be found reading, watching movies, or wasting entirely too much time on the internet.

Connect with me at

cybishop.com

**The "Pay What You Want"** **Quarantine Deal**

It's hard to know where to begin. Most of us have never faced anything like this, not on this scale, and it can be an odd mixture of scary, frustrating, uncertain, and boring as we all do our best to stay secluded and help defeat COVID-19.

In light of this (and the increased need for entertainment options it has presented), I am offering a new payment structure for my books during this time. All of my ebooks are now available at no up-front charge. That's right; you can now download any of my ebooks completely free.

After you have read the book, you then get to decide for yourself what that ebook was worth. Was the entertainment you experienced worth a dollar? Three? Five? More? Whatever you decide is what you get to pay.

For your convenience, there are two options for how to make this payment: through my website, cybishop.com, or through paypal.me/cybishop.

So stay home, stay hydrated, wash your hands, and enjoy some time reading!

