Witch and Wizard_ The Fire - James Patterson [52]
Hands shaking, I shove the photo back into the crack and then hastily scrub the already sparkling toilet. I slink out of the apartment, my mind whirring with the knowledge that The One was once a kid, once had friends and family, once smiled and ached and felt things, rejection among them.
And once had a father whose smile was not a smile at all.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t even see His Coldness coming down the hallway until I nearly walk smack into him.
Chapter 54
Wisty
THE CARPET IN the elite complex corridor is bloodred, with a swirling, repeating O pattern that is making me dizzy and nauseous. My work shoes, once bleach-white and spotless, are grimy and disgusting. I stand slightly pigeon-toed, a fact that’s never annoyed me until now.
I know I probably shouldn’t be so preoccupied with the minute details of my feet. I came here to deal with Him, to use my power, to rid the world of this evil, but the truth is, I’m utterly petrified to look up at The One.
Has the air around him always been so freezing? Has he always seemed so tall and menacing? Does he always wear those dark suits, so perfectly pressed? Could he always suck the air right out of my lungs?
He’s so cold, so evil, and he waits me out silently, his tall figure unmoving. I think it’ll go on like this forever, until he finally breaks the spell with his calm, patronizing voice.
“Don’t be afraid, child. You should be proud of yourself for achieving such an important post at a young age. Many New Order Youth will never experience the great honor of entering my private quarters, let alone tending my toilet.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Achieving an important post? Cleaning toilets? Nothing about destroying me, or using my Gift, or being an utter disappointment?
Before I can squeak out a response, The One turns on his heel and strides away, carefree, whistling the N.O.’s national anthem as he enters his apartment.
I let out a long, uneasy sigh. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.
Should I feel relieved that he didn’t recognize me, or …
Am I really that forgettable?
Chapter 55
Wisty
I SLAM AROUND the barracks, furious with myself. I’m a tightly stretched rubber band of built-up energy, ready to snap.
I pace the linoleum floor, berating myself for being the girl that every lame teacher — including The One — pegged me to be: a dropout. If there’s one thing in my life I needed to finish, it was this. I had him, right in front of me, right where I wanted him — my chance! And what did I do?
I studied my feet.
Some child of the Prophecy I’ve turned out to be. I’m on the verge of catching fire, I can feel it, and to release the anger I whip around, kick one of the solid-wood bunks, and crumple onto the floor, swallowing a scream of pain.
This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?
I roll onto my side, wincing, and take slow, calming breaths. The One’s face appears before me, and fear falls away from me like water. I see through his mask, see through to the dentures and the color contacts, see that it is just a human face, aging and powerless to stop time. A tiny, insignificant blot on humanity who will wither and die without my power, my M — something I’ll never give up.
I put my hands on the sides of his face, almost tenderly, and terror flickers in his eyes. He sees the change in me, the control. A flash of energy illuminates the whole room.
I laser in on his thoughts, but I don’t even need to waste energy warping them. He knows I’ve won, that there is no greater sorceress in existence; that to live, he must fix his misdeeds.
His head falls into his hands, shame overwhelming him. He even cries. Can we ever forgive him? he asks. All he needed was a bit of coaxing, and now things can go back to the way they were before. …
A sob cuts through the fantasy, and I blink away the image of the defeated One. Another cry pierces the air — that hopeless, scared shriek