Rise (The Ethereal Vision Book 2) Page 2

  Jane! You’re up!

  She looked across at him; he was standing on another platform a hundred feet away and smiling. She broke into a run, and the edge of the platform on which she stood approached quickly as adrenaline began to pump through her veins‌—‌or what vestige of such a thing there was in this world they had created for their temporary aims. She reached the edge and jumped, grinning, biting her bottom lip. She focused hard as she sailed through the air, and the platform behind her immediately disassembled, breaking into a million tiny fragments. They flew around in front of her, a shimmering haze of golden matter, and materialized just as quickly below her, twenty feet away. She fell toward the new surface, controlling her descent, and then landed on it, crouching down on one knee. She looked up, breathing hard and feeling exhilarated.

  She was looking at Mike, but he merely laughed and glanced upward. She lifted her head and was just in time to see a giant cuboid structure made of the same material rush toward her from above. She gasped and stretched out her arm reflexively, impossibly fast, extending her psychokinetic power toward it. The block exploded into a haze of fragments that scattered across the sky to her left, fluttering away into nothing. She watched the particles flicker and dance against the backdrop of cloud behind, blown by the breeze that picked up around her. Eventually, the mass was gone, and there was no evidence that the object ever existed.

  Now, the edges of the platform where she stood began to recede toward her rapidly. She wanted to think about which of her friends was doing this, but there was no time, and although this world posed no physical danger, she had no desire to experience a twenty-thousand-foot drop to the Earth below. So she ran toward the edge as it approached her. Her foot touched the surface just as it disappeared beneath her and she leaped into the air. She focused and willed another platform into existence in front of her. Obeying her will, the platform appeared, and she smiled as she sailed toward it, ready to land on it. Panic gripped her as the platform was ripped away, its chunks of rock pulled apart by an unseen force.

  She gasped as she began to sail through the air, and all semblance of rational thought went out the window as she was once again falling. There was no primordial power there to catch her this time, though. Would there ever be again? She steeled herself and focused, willing another platform to appear below her. She watched as the golden concrete spread out from a central point of nothing. She landed on it hard when it was no more than a square meter in size. Continuing then to push it outward, she expanded its dimensions until she felt she was in safer territory. Looking up, she gritted her teeth.

  That was not funny.

  Sorry, Jane, Ciara replied. Talk to Morris. He’s the one who came up with the idea. He’s the one who’s pushing us to train.

  Yeah. True. She stood up slowly and watched as Morris sailed toward her on a similar platform. He came to within twenty meters of her.

  “Quicker. You’ve got to be quicker, Jane,” he said aloud, his voice echoing around her with a strange sonic resonance.

  She lifted her hand without a second thought and flicked it aside, grasping him easily with her power. She felt his body connect with her own for that brief second when the power was run by emotion, and watched with a mixture of glee and fear as he was hit hard and launched off the platform. Still, she couldn’t help but smile as she watched him tumble end over end.

  He reached his hands behind him, and another platform formed there quickly. He landed on it, touching his hands to its surface, and righted its alignment so that he was sitting upright. He looked up and smiled at her.

  That’s better, he said, grinning.

  Quicker, Mor, right? she said. She had wanted to throw him a fierce gaze but found herself smiling instead.

  He kept grinning back, and a rush of emotions flooded her, ten times stronger than what she felt for him in the physical world. Still, there was a dangerous side to Morris that was becoming apparent to her, and that colored her emotions. She had been smiling at him, but it faltered now as the intuition that there was something wrong with him once again came to mind. She had tried to ignore it, but now here it was right in front of her. It seemed that something terrible was about to happen, that it somehow involved him, and despite her instincts‌—‌the incredible psychic gifts she shared with her new friends‌—‌she couldn’t begin to grasp what the danger was.

  Are you OK? Morris asked.

  She hesitated, but refused to show Morris any of these emotions. The same steel armor she had developed in her youth grew around her now, and she looked up at him, smiling, subduing the weakness that these thoughts brought, if only temporarily. She watched for his reaction and could tell that he bought it, but only barely. For a moment, she was reminded of the room Lucas had brought her to‌—‌where he pushed her to use her superhuman abilities by finding her weak spots and exposing them. Then, he had used her secrets in his attempts to break her will. She frowned now as she realized that whatever demons had once lurked inside of her‌—‌or indeed, still did‌—‌paled in comparison to what she felt was about to happen and that it somehow involved Morris.

  They were staring at each other, locked in some unspoken stalemate, when a blaze of prismatic light pierced their vision. At first, it was beamed directly at them, and they both staggered backward, their platforms moving with them. Then, the world seemed to be filled with this light. Jane knew who it was immediately.

  Mike, that’s enough. Seriously! You’ve got to quit it with these light tricks.

  But the light continued to come. She had her arm raised to shield her eyes from the piercing white light tinged with multicolored hues, but then it began to flicker. Time seemed to slow, and she stumbled as a brief wave of dizziness overcame her. Then she heard his voice. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

  SEE WITH YOUR MIND, JANE!

  It was Max, speaking into her mind from somewhere else. She gasped as an image came along with the words: Max, his eyes a piercing azure color with flecks of marble white; he was running up a set of stone steps as they were ripped out from under him. His cloak looked even more regal than before, and in this image, the scepter that she had sometimes seen him holding before was true and solid in his hand.

  Then the image was gone, and there was only the blazing light. She knew Max was gone too. “No! Wait!” she yelled out to anyone who was there to hear, but she knew he would not respond. Whatever the brief vision of her lost friend had been, it was gone now.

  She squinted again as the light continued to flicker in this bubble of a world. Then she looked to her left, perceiving a new danger. Morris was glaring at her when she saw him blink from existence, suddenly gone from the platform on which he had been standing. She turned quickly to see Ciara disappear too. Then, finally, the light disappeared, and as she lowered her arm, she saw that Mike too was gone.

  She looked around as she steadied herself, but was greeted with nothing but the endless sky. Below her, the ground was still thousands of feet away. A crackle came from a great distance in front of her. She looked up to see that a swirling black mass of cloud had begun to form there. Slowly, the great light of the beautiful world that they had created together began to fade. She watched, her eyes narrowing, as the black mass swirled more tightly until it appeared as though a vortex was forming at its center.

  At the urging of a dim rumbling behind her, she turned on her heel to find that the once beautiful vista of bright, golden clouds had grown dark as well. Now, large streaks of lightning moved between the peaks and valleys and snaked across its higher arcs. She watched, her breathing growing rapid, as the cloud blew up unnaturally in the sky, higher and higher‌—‌darker and darker. Instinctively, she took hold of the platform with her mind and began to move away from this expanding thunderhead. Escaping rapidly, she kept her body fixed firmly to the surface and balanced herself with her arms. The terribly ominous cloud receded from her, but it seemed she could only move so fast, and it was massive, so it remained
fixed in her vision.

  She gasped, realizing her mistake: She was moving toward the swirling mass at the other side of this world. She turned around once again to the vortex in the distance. Now it seemed that something was emerging from it: a formless black mist. Gradually, it took on the rough shape of a human and remained there in the distance. It appeared to be staring at her.

  She squinted, trying to understand what she was seeing. Her eyes opened and closed, and it seemed as though she had been drugged. A sonic haze of a distant, wordless voice brushed across her mind‌—‌an ominous sound that made her quiver. She longed to be as far away from this being as she could, but for some reason, her will was gone.

  The world around her changed rapidly. The platform below her spread out beneath her feet, forming a vast floor. Behind her, a series of staircases made of concrete rose upward from four locations, and as they rose, they formed a pyramid structure. Below her, just a few feet away, a different set of stairs descended, continuing into infinity. All around her, the clear sky took on a darker hue, and streaks of purple moved across its black, infinite surface, cutting it into ribbons. After just a few moments, the sky itself was gone, and what remained was some dim remnant of a forgotten world that Jane knew nothing about.

  She looked down now, and what greeted her caused silent tears to spill down her cheeks and her blood to run cold. Below her, on the infinite staircase, lay the bodies of her friends. They were still wearing the white garments that they had worn in the facility‌—‌clothes they had since discarded. Their bodies were slashed, and giant red marks covered them. Morris lay across the top steps. His eyes were open, staring directly into hers. Mike was just next to him, face down. Ciara was next, and then the others‌—‌from whom they had so recently separated‌—‌lay below them.

  Jane got lost then as she stared at them. The pause was broken by the sound of footsteps behind her, and the echoes of the footfalls were a near cacophony in this empty place. She turned around and gasped to see Max walking toward her. His eyes were solemn, although it seemed a strange light beamed from the center of his retinas. Still, she couldn’t get beyond the lurching in her stomach at the feeling that she had disappointed the ultimate mentor, and so she forgot the unusual lights that appeared in his eyes for a brief moment.

  She turned back around, wiping the tears from her eyes, and once again looked down at the bodies of her friends. “What happened to them?” she asked quietly as the sound of his footfalls grew closer.

  “You weren’t strong enough,” came his stern reply.

  She breathed deeply, still trying to comprehend what she was seeing. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re not strong enough to stop what’s coming.”

  Finally, a fissure opened somewhere inside her, coinciding with a flash of light in the distance. She looked up and then glanced around at Max once again, more slowly this time, somehow knowing she would see something different. Indeed, Max did appear different. His cloak was not his own, but belonged to another; it was aged and covered with holes. His usual colors of magnificent black had faded to an aged brown hue. His face was not his own either, and seemed to morph slightly. She remained poised and calm, trying not to tip her hand as she turned back around slowly. Her awareness was growing, and her mind began sprawling for a solution. Have to wake up. Have to find a way to get out of here‌—‌

  “Wake up?” the being spoke from behind her, but its voice was changing; it was erratic and ragged now, and the sound of it made Jane’s stomach turn.

  She steeled herself and turned around again slowly to face the being who had presented himself to her as Max. Now, his cloak looked ancient and filthy, and his face was jagged with decaying bones.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her voice firm but quivering.

  For a moment, he seemed frozen, unable to respond, and merely stared at her. Then his eyes grew wide, disturbingly so, and his jaw opened, revealing his rotting teeth. The sound of his laughter began to fill this empty world‌—‌slowly at first, then growing to a crescendo.

  Reluctantly, Jane began to back away from him, retreating down the steps behind her. Her foot touched Morris’s dead body, and she gasped, looking down at him. She could go no further, so she looked back at the being who had begun to move again and was now advancing upon her.

  “Max!” the being bellowed, and his voice echoed forever in the void all around her. “Do you even know who he is? Do you know who you’re really following? Where is he now? Answer me that?”

  She quivered. She had the distinct impression that the creature had only a tenuous grasp on this world and was struggling to communicate with her. She took another step, and without looking down, passed over Morris’s body. The being continued to advance in her direction in jerking, spasmodic movements. It had reached the top step just five feet away when she heard Morris speak from behind her.

  “Jane!” his voice yelled, penetrating this strange vision.

  Turning at the sound of his voice, she saw a golden flash rip through the swirling, purple haze that lined the perimeter of this new world. She knew that this was her only chance, and so she jumped off the steps, moving toward the rippling wall. Thankfully, a hand appeared in the cascading tide of energy. She flew through the air, ignoring the sounds of the being as it screamed behind her in annoyance. She reached out a hand and grasped the arm that was outstretched towards her. As she did, there was a flash of light as the world around her disappeared.

  Jane sat up in the dark, gasping for air. She felt an immediate urge to vomit. Upon placing a hand on her forehead, she found that it was covered in sweat. Taking a moment to breathe deeply, she turned and looked up to see her friends sitting around her, staring down at her with expressions of concern.

  “Are you OK?” Ciara asked quietly.

  Jane didn’t look at her but merely stared straight ahead. She had grown adept at concealing certain pieces of information from her friends. It was not an act of lying, she felt, but an act of protection; she had no wish to overload them with information about Max that she felt was unnecessary.

  She stood up and took another breath, then began to pace the room. Putting a hand to her forehead, she rubbed the slick strands of hair there back over her head. “I’m OK,” she replied. She could feel her friends’ eyes on her; she didn’t need her psychic instincts to know they were watching as she walked around the room. She took a deep breath again and looked up toward the cavernous ceiling, grateful in that moment that they had managed to find a good place to take refuge.

  At Morris’s urging, Ciara had used her vast psychic instincts to locate a property in an upscale part of Manhattan that was vacant. Working together, they overcame the house’s security system and made it their temporary residence. They had then grown used to using psychic tricks on anyone who bothered to ask questions. Jane‌—‌more so than the others‌—‌was most afraid of drones, which circled the area periodically. There were far more of them now since they had arrived, and she had her suspicions that this increase in drone activity was directly related to the presence of her and her friends.

  Finally, Jane summoned the courage to face her friends. She pulled her gaze away from the bare white wall and turned to them.

  Mike spoke first. “What the hell happened in there, Jane? We got thrown out.”

  Morris was standing directly in front of her with his arms folded. He was six feet of muscle and bone‌—‌like a sentry. Ciara was on her right, and Mike was on her left, and the three of them were almost silhouettes against the backdrop of evening light from the window at the front of the room.

  “I don’t know,” Jane responded, lying‌—‌at least to some degree. Instead of meeting their gazes, she brushed her hair back on either side once again and looked up at the well-sculpted ceiling. Wow, these people have money! she thought. She could still feel her friends’ gazes on her. “Mike, we’re back out. You can turn on the lights again,” she said.

  S
he watched as he glanced at the light switch next to the door. She heard a click, and the room was bathed in beautiful, ornamental light from a chandelier overhead. She smiled and then turned once again to face her friends.

  “I think… I think there was something in there with us,” she said in a cracking voice.

  Mike, Morris, and Ciara exchanged glances.

  “What do you mean?” Mike asked.

  “I’m not sure. Whatever it was, it’s not good. Max had said something…” She stopped then mid-sentence, and her gaze fell to the floor. She saw as much as felt Morris move closer to her upon hearing Max’s name. “He mentioned something about having imprisoned a being like him a long time ago‌—‌someone with a corrupt nature. It had to do with the history of his kind, his people. I don’t understand most of it, to be honest with you.”

  Morris’s brow furrowed.

  She looked into his dimly lit eyes, and despite the slight feeling of dominance that she felt coming off his body, the warmth there comforted her.

  “You think that’s what this thing was?” he asked flatly.

  She paused before answering. “Yes, I think so,” she replied.

  “It’s dangerous, isn’t it, Jane?” Ciara asked then.

  She looked at Ciara, who was standing on the far right closest to the door. She remained partially bathed in darkness there. Jane nodded. “Yes. I only have the basic details‌—‌the few things that Max told me‌—‌but yes.” She glared at her. “You could tell, couldn’t you?” she asked, knowing that Ciara would have been able to detect the presence, even if it had only been for the briefest of seconds.