Chapter Twenty-Eight
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PHOENIX

𝚂𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙽. Alysia opened the portal once again and, before he knew it, Phoenix had travelled through time and space. Because there was a bit of truth to that now, wasn't there? As far as he knew, Alysia was able to conjure a wormhole through which two areas of spacetime connected. He had read tons of articles and watched countless videos at home about such theories; only now they weren't theories at all.

  That starpoint in the distance of the tunnel flashed into view like a spaceship going warp speed in those famous Star Wars movies, and in the same second, he appeared in a ropy tendril of morning light. A thin-boughed tree materialised as if from a mirage. Rubbing his eyes, the characteristics of a deep jungle and wooden treehouses sharpened. He was in the Castle again. The same beautiful array of riverbeds sweeping into the nearby tarn winked gloriously in contrast to what he'd experienced the past . . . what, hour, two hours? Man, time was difficult to measure.

  Alysia was already standing in front of him, and Valerie popped out of the portal a couple instances later. A plume of whitish blue vapour steamed out with her. Phoenix gripped the balustrade that wove an intricate netting across the wooden platforms and bridges and peered down as if to vomit, disciplining himself greatly from doing so. He swept the hem of Chrono's nylon jacket over the edge. At the bottom there were people, dressed in the same white clothing that Phoenix had gotten used to in this place, collecting barrels of water. Some dipped inside, creating foamy bounces downhill. A faint blue light emanated from the Spiral and mixed with the reflective sungleam across the river, diffuse between the many trees and towers that gave name to the Castle.

  Phoenix sighed wearily, face scrawled in worry. "It gets me every time."

  "You're tellin' me," said Valerie. "I always—" She hiccupped. "—get the hiccups after it. Quick, someone scare me."

  A subdued chuckle. "If scaring actually got rid of hiccups, then I probably would."

  "All right, genius." Valerie wheezed a laugh. "Don't get too cocky."

  "Told you you have to get used to it," said Alysia. "It's a real stomach-churner. You have to train your body and mind to make it past without throwing your guts up. You know, like with a car."

  "Is that why you have muscles the size of cannons and abs as sharp as washboards?" joked Phoenix.

  And quickly Valerie and Alysia were laughing.

  "No, no." Alysia grinned youthfully. "I was a bodybuilder in my past life. You sort of get to . . . keep your figure when coming into this world, I guess. And I'm thankful for that."

  "I'd imagine. All that hard work gone to waste would totally suck."

  "It would. It really would."

  Phoenix nodded his sight towards the bottom of the riverbed again, where the people collected the water. With one eye squinted and his hands clasped over one another, he asked, "What's going on down there?"

  Just like that Alysia stepped over to the balustrade, pulling her bandanna up to cover her nose. "What it looks like. They collect the water and we use them to make . . . Well, Luke uses his power to turn it into alcohol."

  "LukeAlcohol?"

  "He's the bartender, love," said Valerie, tucking a stray curl behind her own left ear. Folding her arms against her lower abdomen, she added, "The one that gave ya the water."

  "What kind of power is that?" asked Phoenix. "What's that supposed to do?"

  "Not much," replied Alysia bluntly. She, too, folded her arms. "That's why he wanted to join up with Zamora; he can't survive on his own."

  "And what about the people down there? What can they—" But Phoenix was cut short. The first man or woman—it wasn't easy to tell the difference—telekinetically plunged the barrel in and out of the river, leaving behind pinpricks of water, until gracefully planting it on the grassy undergrowth. Next to them was a truck-wheel-sized metal lid. It rose into the air with equal éclat, floating onto the keg and twisting it shut. The sight was indeed mystifying; this not only meant that every person in the Castle possessed a unique power, but their powers also ranged from, say, turning water to wine to opening up wormholes. They all seemed to work together to create this utopia, but what was the point? Setting up base in the middle of a division only to have it wither away eventually?

  Do they move all the time? And imagine if one day Zamora's power stops working. Maybe she uses up too much power or something. Then what? Will they trust her anymore? Or will they be totally pissed?

  "Why do you guys set up base? What's the point?" asked Phoenix. "The world withers away eventually, doesn't it?"

  "Well, yes, but Zamora has a plan," answered Alysia. "And, to be honest, it may involve you, but don't quote me on that."

  "Me? How can her plan involve me? I just got here." Phoenix wiped his eyes.

  "She's been speaking about weather-casters for a long time," said Valerie. "Least that's what people say. And she seems obsessed with ya. Anyway, she wants to take over—"

  "She wants to get rid of the evil alliances," finished Alysia. "For example, there's a city division, not the one you passed through, one with a civilisation like our own, somewhere ten divisions from here."

  "That's . . . ten thousand miles, right? That'd take . . ." Phoenix paused to try and calculate the exact amount of time it would take to walk such a long distance, but found that he didn't possess the mathematical brainpower to do it. ". . . a long-ass time."

  Alysia nodded. "It would, but . . . Well, with the portal . . ."

  "Oh, right," realised Phoenix. "Go on."

  "Yeah, Zamora has a bone to pick with the leader of their alliance, and, well, she thinks that in order to survive we have to . . . fight for it."

  "Fight for it?! For their city?! And kill everyone?! But what about all the innocent people?!" A torrent of panic and anger bolted through Phoenix's body.

  "No no," said Alysia, gesturing her hands in dismissal, "not kill. She just wants to take out the leader, because . . . Well, she'll explain all that later—probably, if she does intend to use you to your full potential."

  "They're not just going to hand over the city," said Phoenix.

  "With a weather-caster they'll want to join forces," said Valerie. "That's the plan, I think. Don't quote me either, love."

  A clutch of dwindling panic, and then Phoenix relaxed and sucked in a deep breath. A silvery flash caught his eye. The barrel had been travelling upwards, hurrying towards the platform across from the one Phoenix had been standing on. He exhaled groggily. "And what about Alex? How am I supposed to find her if I'm doing all this? I thought you said you could help me."

  "Zamora can," said Alysia. "But she's not open to letting just anyone join. She needs them to prove themselves."

  "Which I have."

  "We'll see. I can't decide for her, after all."

  Valerie seemed to pick up on his discomfort. She walked over and rubbed his shoulder. "It's all right, you won't have to kill anyone. Well, you won't have to kill innocent people. Evil will always be evil and there has to be someone to stop it. You're probably the only weather-caster in the world—"

  "I don't think so," said Phoenix. "I'm . . . sure there are others. And I'm sure they won't be willing to join up with other alliances. They'll keep heading towards the Spiral killing everyone in their path. They'll never look back, just like Aaron Kessler, and will use people to reach the end. That's just how people are. I've seen shit like this back in my city, St Anderson's."

  "I heard of St Anderson's," said Alysia. "Isn't that the city that replaced upstate New York?"

  "It is, and . . . jeez, how long are you in this game?"

  Alysia pushed a horsey sigh through her lips. "I . . . I'm not sure. I think four years. The Spiral usually lets us kno—"

  "Damn, that's before hover-cars," said Phoenix glumly.

  "Hover-cars?"

  "Yeah, the governor was secretly working on hover-cars for years before publicly announcing their arrival." Phoenix's face shot up in the tensest expression. That bastard.

  From the treetower platform, Phoenix heard a drizzle come hammering down. It was a sudden, out-of-nowhere shower, and it made him recoil. "Raining again?" He looked up and noticed that this side of the jungle had a greyish white cloud enclosing the spotless blue sky. Flinging Chrono's torn nylon jacket over his left shoulder, Phoenix raised a steady hand and wiped his face once again, releasing a pettish groan.

  "Sick of the rain?" said Alysia.

  "You know what? I almost am." And it was shocking to say, because he had been a pluviophile of the highest degree; especially in the late winter nights, when the stormy atmosphere would whip its call across the metropolis and pound fiercely against his high-rise-apartment window. He'd hope—just hope—that it would last all night, perhaps some time into the morning, when he'd grab his bag for school and head out into the real world. How he missed that, how he missed the joy, the fun . . . the love. By God, dare he say it, he even missed the anger he felt when finding out about those bastardly hover-cars.

  I miss Mom, Dad, Alex . . . Everyone . . . They're all I have.

  Alysia chuckled. "There's a lot more of these random, spur-of-the-moment cloudbursts." She opened her palm as if to catch the water, and Phoenix watched the droplets slither around her fingers.

  Phoenix pulled his afro back to the hairline and said, "Doesn't help that I have this mop goin' on."

  "That, it doesn't," said Alysia.

  "You have more hair than me, love," said Valerie.

  And upon inspecting, Phoenix realised it was true. "I've been growing it out since like the fifth grade. My parents wanted me to cut it but . . . Yeah, forget it."

  "You wanna head up to Zamora?" asked Valerie. "I'm sure you're bloody pissin' yourself about what she has to say about . . . what's your one's name again?"

  "Alex," both Valerie and Phoenix said at the same time.

  "Yes, yes I am. I saw her in my vision when I came here," said Phoenix. "It was clear, like she was right in front of me."

  "Like a memory?" asked Alysia.

  Phoenix shook his head. "More than that. It was like she was in front of me. You see, I was in this room—my room, and there was this crystal floating in the middle. I walked over to it, touched it, and got shot back. I had powers, and . . . then I saw her."

  "In front of you?"

  "No . . . I saw her . . . I don't know how to explain it . . ."

  Phoenix witnessed Alysia's brow furl, and along with his uncertainty, he felt this overwhelming pang of despair. Maybe she wasn't out there after all, and this whole expedition would be pointless. This whole task with proving himself. Then again, what else was there to do? Sit back on his ass and cry? No, that wasn't happening. Not in a million years. Not ever.

  "That's interesting," said Alysia in a mild tone. "I don't remember what happened when I first got here. I just sort of . . . spawned, you know? It's like energy being created: nobody knows how it happened. But I guess you have an idea."

  "Well, it might have been a dream," said Phoenix. "I'm not a hundred per cent sure."

  "What else did you see, do you remember?" asked Alysia, as if suddenly popping with curiosity.

  "I . . . I remember waking up standing in the middle of my room, and when I looked outside . . . I saw St Anderson's City floating in a stream of empty space. The bottom of the buildings looked like they were ripped out of the ground. And there were so many cars—regular cars—levitating about. And, before I knew it, a giant hand came out from under the city. It opened and released this extremely bright sun, I think. I couldn't even look at it for a second.

  "When it stopped, the crystal was in the middle of the room. And . . . like I said, I touched it and . . . and yeah. I saw the paper . . ." He reached into his trouser pockets, felt an edge stab his finger, and pulled it out. "This paper, right here. Only there were hundreds of them on my desk. And when I finished reading it, everything disappeared. I fell asleep. I woke up in the urban city you found me in."

  "But what happened before that—?" asked Valerie.

  "Wait, wait, you saw a hand?" asked Alysia intently.

  Phoenix nodded. "Yeah . . ."

  Her eyes fluttered. "Interesting. You should tell Zamora about this."

  Confused, Phoenix said, "Why?

  "Because she said the same thing happened to her years ago—with the hand. There might be a connection."

  His eyes flew open.

  And then the rain stopped.

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