Wil? Are you awake?

It’s Astrid, calling me through the darkness. She sounds like she’s right next to me, but a quick check of the bunk confirms I’m alone. Weird. Must’ve been a dream.

We need to talk.

Okay… not a dream. That was definitely her voice, but where is she?  I roll out of bed and drop to the floor, activating a string of yellow biolumes in my wake. They glow like fireflies, lighting my path through the cabin as I tiptoe past a sleeping Vin and Brenne. “Astrid?” I whisper. “Where are you?”

You’re getting warmer.

Her voice sounds distorted, like she’s shouting through water. That’s when it hits me: she’s communicating telepathically!

Look up.

I do as I’m told, spotting her silhouette in one of the top bunks.  She’s lying on her belly, propped up on an elbow to watch my approach. It’s too dark to be sure, but I swear she’s grinning down at me.

“How did you do that?” I ask after climbing up to join her.

“It’s easy.” She shifts to make room for me and we sit facing each other with our legs crossed, knee-to-knee.  “Thea taught me how to project in less than ten minutes.”

“Then what Thea said about you...” I raise an eyebrow. “It’s true.”

The smile dies on her lips. “I’m not an Abomination!”

“But –”

“Just drop it, okay?” Her eyes darken like thunderheads, warning me away. “I’ve learned how to project my thoughts. That’s all.”

“Fine.” I bite my lower lip but don’t press her further. At least not directly. “Call it whatever you want. The point is, you just communicated telepathically. Did you have any idea you could do this back at the Academy?”

She looks down at her hands, taking a long time before answering. “No, but some of the things Thea said about me… they were true. During the Fox Hunt, I knew you were tracking the Gamma.”

“You spotted me in the market?” I ask in surprise.

“No.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I sensed your aura. That’s how I knew you were behind us, closing in fast.”

“But how? Sifters can’t read one another.”

“I know, and that’s true. I can’t read your thoughts, but…” She sighs and rubs her forehead. “It’s complicated. I always knew you were different, from our first year at the GA. From that day when I found you on the playing fields getting bullied by those idiots. Your aura stood out like a solar flare, and I couldn’t figure out what it meant. All those bright colors, swirling around, and so…” She closes her eyes, like she’s still trying to puzzle it out. “…blinding. It was like staring at the sun. That’s how I knew where to find you in Washton. I saw you fading in that ditch. I knew you were in trouble. Dying.”

We don’t speak for a while, each of us lost in our thoughts, but this silence feels different. Not a barrier between us but something comfortable and intimate, like a shared blanket.

“Maybe it’s because we’re both Rainbows,” I finally suggest.

Astrid props herself up on her elbows, head tilted toward me. “I never liked the term Rainbow. It’s more than just seeing the colors. It’s the intensity and patterns that give them meaning. Yellow isn’t just fear. It flickers with anxiety. Flares with terror. Ripples with cowardice. And then there’s red. So many different types of red. There must be a hundred emotions in that one color. Maybe more.”

I nod, hanging on her words.

“Red that burns steady with rage or pulses with –”

“Defiance,” I finish for her. “The deadliest of the three subversive auras. The emotions they taught us to hunt. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hear fear. Or to smell anger.”

“That’s burnt rubber.” She crinkles her nose. “Trust me. You’re not missing much, and I don’t think you’d want to be a Whisper either. Brenne once told me fear makes this weird bleating sound, like a crying old woman crossed with a sheep.”

“Creepy.”

“Seriously. I’ll take colors over that any day. Bright Alphas. Pale Betas…”

“And what about Gammas?” I cut in. “When you’re tracking one, what do you see?”

A kaleidoscope, she answers without opening her mouth. Too many colors to count. Always shifting. Rearranging.

I couldn’t describe the sensation any better. Which begs the question: is that how she sees my aura? I picture her as an Academy girl with intense blue eyes, staring at me with what I’d always thought was contempt. All those furtive glances, forehead scrunched with what looked so much like disgust. She’s wearing that same expression now, only this time, I finally know what it means.

“You’ve been suspicious of me all these years. You knew I was a Gamma.”

“No,” she corrects. “Like I said, I knew you were different. I just didn’t know what it meant until now. Until I met your friend Thea. Your aura and hers…” She leans in so close our foreheads almost touch. “They’re the same.”

“And what about your aura?” I ask.

She pulls away. Stares past me, into the darkness. “You tell me.”

“But how?”

“It’s like sifting. You just need to go deeper to find my aura. Concentrate. Isolate. Then project your thoughts and I’ll hear them.”

“That easy, huh?”

She shrugs, that maddening half-smile returning to her lips. “Was for me.”

I take her cue and close my eyes, remembering what Thea taught me so many years ago. Always begin with total darkness. Then filter out all distractions, starting with the loudest sounds. The mechanical thrum of the subnaut engine. My own pulse, hammering in my ears. The low, rhythmic swoosh of breathing. Mine. Astrid’s. Vin’s and Brenne’s. The rustle of bed sheets. A flutter of eyelashes. Loud. Soft. Softer. Barely audible.

I’m floating in a bubble now, dark and silent as deep space. Searching for even the faintest spark of color but finding… nothing. After a few minutes of futile effort, I open my eyes to find Astrid staring at me.

“Well?” she demands.

I shake my head. Now we have our answer. I don’t share her telepathic ability.

“Maybe it’s the blocking collar,” she suggests half-heartedly. “Or fatigue. You’ve barely slept for days.”

“You haven’t either.”

She frowns to concede the point, then turns away and pulls her knees to her chest in a classic Astrid maneuver. Is she dismissing me or waiting for me to take charge of the conversation? This time, I go with the second possibility. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Thea lately,” I say.

When she doesn’t respond, I press on. “When I was a child, she planted memories in my subconscious mind. Memories from the time of the Cataclysm. From the Great One’s daughter. Her name was Aletheia.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says through a yawn. “When I asked Thea about those memories, she offered to show me.”

“And?”

“I refused.”

“You what?” I stare at her. “But why?”

“Because I don’t want them! I don’t need the memories of some dead girl clouding my mind, Wil! Ghosts won’t stop Gant. Only my father can. That’s why rescuing him is the only thing that matters.”

She’s got a point. Only Augustin Blake can rally the Founders against Gant. Why else would the Aletheians be risking so much to save him? But there’s something else. Something that’s been tugging at my conscience since this whole nightmare began.

“Then why is he so afraid of you?”

“Who, Gant? He –” She hesitates, her voice catching with uncertainty. “He isn’t. He just used me to get to my father.”

“But couldn’t he have found an easier way? I mean, he has a million plus Enforcers. Why bother sending you to York? Why not just seize control?”

“Because that’s not all he’s after.” She crosses her arms, like she’s disappointed in me for being so dense. “Don’t you get it yet? Gant wants more than power. He wants to be worshiped as a savior. As the Great One reborn. That’s why he’s putting on this show. Why we need to stop him now!” She jabs a finger into the mattress. “Before it’s too late!”

She’s right. Nothing else matters. But then why do my thoughts keep drifting back to Assignment Day? To the sight of Astrid taking the stage before an adoring crowd. To the roar of thousands – Alphas, Betas, maybe even a few hidden Gammas like me – rising in unison to cheer her on. I felt the surge of excitement in the crowd, and I can’t have been the only one.

Gant must have felt it too.

 “Astrid?” When she doesn’t answer, I notice she’s falling asleep, so I pull the blanket over her shoulders and whisper, “Good night.” Then, on impulse, I brush a fingertip across her cheek. My touch is light, but her eyelids flutter open.

“You don’t have to go,” she murmurs sleepily. “I mean… you can stay, if you want.”

It’s not an invitation to pair up. I can tell from the way she says it. She just doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. That’s not to say my heart doesn’t flutter when she shifts to make room for me. Or that my skin doesn’t tingle when she curls closer, until her back rests against my chest. We haven’t had a decent shower in days, so why does she smell so good?

As she settles into a peaceful sleep beside me, I remember what Brenne told me yesterday. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Astrid needs me more than I realized. Why else would she ask me to stay with her now?

That’s when the full burden of tomorrow hits me. I’m not just going to Scilla Rock to save my sister, or even to help the Aletheians restore Augustin Blake to power. I need to protect the girl now lying beside me.

I swallow, doubt catching in my throat like a stone.

What if I’m not up to the challenge?

*

I wake up to the gruff sound of laughter. Astrid stirs next to me, groaning when she recognizes its source. Moments later, Dax pops his head above the side of the bunk, leering at us like a deranged prairie dog.

“Good morning, Wilmington… Sunshine.” He turns to Astrid, eyes wandering to her legs. “I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed. That didn’t take long.”

“It’s not like that, perv,” she fires back, covering herself with the blanket.

“We were just talking,” I add. “Guess I fell asleep.”

“Sure. Just friends, right?” Dax gives me an exaggerated wink. “Hey, I hate to interrupt your little sleepover, but Thea wants you both up and dressed. We’re meeting on the command deck in thirty minutes.”

“Why?” Astrid sits up. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, nothing much.” He shrugs. “Just closing in on Scilla. We should be off the coastline in a few hours.”

And with that thunderclap of an announcement, he turns and leaves.

Five minutes later, we find Vin and Brenne eating breakfast in the galley. Looks like more protein strips, washed down with black coffee. Another delicious subnaut meal.

“Sleep well?” Brenne teases, while Vin just gives me a wolfish grin.

“Nothing happened,” I protest.

“Okay.” Vin nudges Brenne, who starts giggling. “So you sleepwalked your way into the Princess’s bunk in the middle of the night. Hey, we’ve all been there. No need to explain.”

“But we were just talking –” I sputter, but Astrid grabs my shoulder to cut me short. Something just caught her attention. Something that’s draining all the color from her cheeks.

“Why are you wearing that?” she asks in a shaky voice. I follow her gaze to Brenne’s sleek new jumpsuit, then notice that Vin’s wearing a matching outfit. Black camouflage, designed to blend into the darkness. Perfect for nighttime combat.

“Oh, these?” Brenne tugs on her sleeve and frowns. “Um… just trying out the battle gear. You know, to see how it fits.”

“But why?” Astrid’s eyes narrow. “You’re not going to Scilla.”

“Hold up a sec,” Vin cuts in. “We never said that.”

“Yes you did! You both promised to stay with Ferro until he’s released. Otherwise, Kobari might break his promise.”

“He won’t,” Brenne replies, glancing at Vin for support. “We have his word. And besides, what are we supposed to do if he changes his mind? Take out his entire crew?”

I’ve never seen her stand up to Astrid like this. It’s quite an eye opener, but Astrid doesn’t seem surprised at all. Instead, she shifts her attention back to Vin and says, “You told me you’d watch over her. That you’d keep her safe.” Trying to lay on the guilt. Smart, but Vin’s not buying it.

“And I will,” he answers. “But that won’t be possible if we go back to Founder’s Bay. Gant knows we’re your friends. He’ll hunt us down.”

“Then stay with Kobari!” I shout. “We’ll talk to Thea. Find some way to get you to safety.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Vin rolls his eyes at me. “But this ain’t your decision. We didn’t come this far just to turn back now.”

“That’s right,” Brenne says. “This is our fight too.”

“But why?” Astrid grabs her hand. “Why risk being branded a traitor when you have so much to lose?”

Brenne gives her a brave smile. “It’s too late to worry about that now.”

“No it isn’t! You’ll say you were captured… that we took you and Vin along as hostages...” Astrid trails off, probably realizing she’s reaching for straws now. There’s no way Gant will believe that kind of story, and we all know it.

“It won’t work,” Brenne says. “Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t go back to that life.”

“But what about your parents? What about Ella? She’ll be in the Academy next year, for Founder’s sake!”

“Don’t you think I realize that?” Brenne meets her gaze. “And who do you think will be controlling the Academy? Gant will use it to brainwash his own army of Sifters. What better way to hunt down his enemies?”

For once, Astrid has no comeback.

“This isn’t just about you and your dad,” Brenne presses on. “I won’t just sit and watch Gant turn my little sister and her friends into monsters.” Her voice thickens with emotion. “I’ll die before I let that happen!”

When Vin wraps his arms around her in a show of solidarity, the message couldn’t be clearer. Looks like Astrid made me a promise she couldn’t keep. Our friends are joining this battle, whether we want them to or not.

***

© Copyright 2025 graymartin. All rights reserved.