Powerful: A Powerless Story
Powerful: Chapter 2

Scraps of fabric are my only company.

The whole thing sounds far more depressing than it is, really. This is a very temporary lapse of loneliness. Once Pae returns from the Trials – because I refuse to believe there is any other outcome – she will be back to sleeping soundlessly on my left.

I scoot over at the thought, ensuring there is plenty enough space for the presence of her to sleep peacefully. I refuse to occupy her side and, instead, reserve it with my pile of fabric. A memorial, if you will. But not in a dead, depressing way. More like an ‘I miss you and, don’t worry, I’m saving your spot’ sort of way.

The Fort is a bit drafty tonight, though that’s likely due to the fact that we constructed it from dozens of miscellaneous items at the age of thirteen. The sudden urge to give our little home a makeover has me far too giddy to sleep. Pae deserves a more fabulous Fort to come home to. Though I suppose she’ll be able to buy half the slums if she happens to win these Trials.

How remarkable would it be if she manages it? Manages to win what is meant to showcase the Elite power, yet she has nothing of the sort. But if any Ordinary could, it would be Pae. She will fool them all with her ‘Psychic’ abilities, because if she hadn’t told me otherwise, I likely would still believe her act of observance.

I burrow into our blanket, my mind buzzing with possibilities. And then I nod to myself, settling on my Fort redecoration surprise. This will be my gift to her.

I hadn’t realized I’d drifted asleep until a ray of sun tickles my forehead.

Rolling over, my face replaces the mound of scraps to be rather comfortable before the strands have me sneezing. Once my nose has finished throwing its fit, I sit up, brushing back the bangs sticking to my forehead. My sleepy eyes are slow to open but quick to replace the spot beside me empty.

I stutter from where I sit behind the Fort, unsure of what to do with myself. For the past five years, Paedyn has only woken up due to my perseverance each morning. And, maybe a part of me reveled in the routine of it, of being the first person she sees. Though, the task is certainly not for the faint of heart. She’s stubborn, even in sleep.

With resolve I’d rather not muster at the moment, I manage to get to my feet. Exchanging one oversized shirt for another, I attempt to run fingers through the tangled curls earned from a night of tossing and turning. It’s not long before I give up, as I do each day. I’ve decided it is now part of my routine.

After twisting my hair into a messy knot at the nape of my neck, I gather a bundle of clothes into my arms and phase right through the barrier that is our Fort.

Sunlight coats the tops of crumbling shops as I set out onto Loot, its rays creeping down the walls to splatter the pavement. I smile at the sight before silently saying good morning to the shiny star. We’ve always been close, connected in a way I can’t explain.

I pass several merchants preparing their carts for the day, smiling at the few who appreciate the gesture.

Routine. Again.

I’ve nearly made it to my corner when the smell of fresh dough wafts towards me. My stomach complains loudly at the scent, grumbling about its lack of food. And apparently, my feet listen. They carry me towards the source of the smell while I hug the mass of fabric tighter against me.

That’s how I replace myself standing before a merchant’s cart, piled high with sticky buns. The man nods curtly while I smile sweetly as though I’m not considering anything unlawful. But it’s as though the temptation was created just for me. My stomach is insistent, my hands greedy to snatch a glazed piece of dough.

I never have been much good at snatching, hence why I’ve always left that area of expertise to Pae. But she’s left me alone with my appetite and no voice of reason. What a dangerous combination. And my hunger is currently drowning out all rationality.

So, when the merchant’s back is turned, I repeat history.

I steal a sticky bun.

The honey seeping between my fingers feels like the embodiment of déjà vu. I stare at it glistening in my palm while struggling to clutch my bundle of clothing beneath a single arm. Turning away slowly, I whisper an apology to the seemingly kind man as I step away from his stand.

That is when the green pleated skirt I spent hours stitching falls from the pile, landing behind me. I spin on my heel, bending to pick it up before the merchant notices and—

‘Hey! You got money for that, girl?’

I stumble into a run.

I’m a terrible person who steals and runs from the consequences. Not that Pae is a terrible person. No, I’m just not cut out for this. My conscience can’t condone this sort of dreadful deed.

‘I’m sorry!’ I shout as I tear off down the street. ‘I’m sure it’s delicious and very much worth the money I don’t have!’

I weave through the growing crowd, feeling the clothes slipping with each bounding step. Blurry faces watch me race by, one of them partially covered with a white mask.

Perfect. I’ve caught the attention of an Imperial.

Just as I had five years ago for the exact same crime.

I could laugh at my repeated stupidity. Except, Paedyn isn’t here to save me this time around, leaving me no other option but to run alone and attempt to escape my crime.

The Imperial is now in pursuit behind me, shouting orders to stop my sprinting. Forcing myself to ignore his threats, I run by the familiar alley that has our Fort tucked inside. It physically pains me to throw my clothes towards the dead end, but I offer them a reassuring, ‘I’ll come back for you!’ And then I’m squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t have to witness the sight of my beloved clothing plummeting towards the dirty cobblestone.

Free from the bundle, I race down the street while mentally scolding myself for what I’ve done. Though, that doesn’t stop me from scarfing down several bites of dough as I try to dwindle the amount of incriminating evidence.

I turn down several streets, cutting through alleys while attempting not to choke on my stolen goods. The Imperial is still on my heels when I skid round a corner and—

Large arms wrap round my body, pulling me against a foreign one. My attempt to struggle is futile in comparison to the size of this someone behind me. I’m about to yell for anyone who might care enough to help when a hand suddenly clamps over my mouth, smelling of a sort of soot that stings my nose.

I’m being pulled backwards, farther and farther until my captor collides with the wall and—

And phases right through it, forcing me to do the same.

I stumble on the other side of the brick, my feet fumbling beneath me. A muscled arm is lifting me off the floor before I can slip and fall face-first into it. A large hand still covers my nose and mouth and I’m desperately trying to free myself so I can spew every word that’s being smothered.

That’s when I sneeze into the palm.

‘Shit!’

My feet have only just returned to the floor before I’m being shoved away from the source of that deep voice, my nose still burning from the dust covering his hand. I take a deep breath before turning to face him, attempting to collect my thoughts and rein in my emotions.

But it seems I do neither of those things, because I spin on my heel at the same moment I harshly whisper, ‘You’re a Phaser, too?’

If I had a single rational thought left, it vanishes when I lay eyes on him.

If there is a God, this man is certainly proof that He has His favorites.

He’s breathtaking in the way I would imagine a stab wound to be, so handsome it’s piercing. Like a blade, everything about him is sharp and cold.

And suddenly I have a vague sense of familiarity at the sight of him.

Tipping my head up, my eyes replace his dark ones before trailing down to the sharp cheekbones beneath them. I follow the curve of his Cupid’s bow until my gaze traces the scar slicing through his lips. Everything below his face is hidden beneath thick, partially leathered clothing, though the sheer size of him is obvious. His dark sleeves are sloppily rolled to his elbow, displaying muscled arms streaked in the black dust that made me—

‘You sneezed in my hand.’ His arm is stretched out in front of him as he blinks down at his palm in disbelief.

‘Well…’ My whole body flushes as I struggle to form words. ‘Your hand made me sneeze.’

‘You don’t say? I hadn’t noticed.’ He says this with a stony sort of sarcasm while running his palm down the side of his pants.

I stiffen slightly at his tone, but at the reminder of my poor first impression, I force myself to smile in the hopes he will offer one back. ‘Sooo,’ I say slowly, drawing out the word, ‘you’re a Phaser?’

With the hand unmarred by my sneeze, he combs long fingers through dark hair. It’s parted and shaggy and likely long enough to partially tie back with a strap. But when he brushes the strands out of his face, I catch sight of a silver streak hiding amongst the rugged black waves.

My heart stops at the sight. At the reminder of Pae.

‘Was walking through the wall not proof enough of that?’ he asks blandly, his eyes finally flicking to mine.

I doubt I’ll be getting so much as a smile any time soon. Or a kind word for that matter. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to earn one.

‘Sorry, um, I’ve just never met another Phaser before.’ I smile despite the stony expression he wears. ‘I mean, obviously I knew there were others. I’m not special enough to be the only one. Although—’

‘See, as incredibly interesting as wherever the hell you were going with that is, we need to get down to business.’ He pairs a solemn nod with what he likely thinks is a sympathetic look. ‘So, I’m gonna go ahead and let you ask one more question before I dive into everything.’

I blink at him, temporarily dazed. ‘Excuse me?’

He raises his eyebrows. ‘Are you sure that’s the question you want to ask?’

‘W-What business are you talking about?’ I sputter. ‘What is going on?’

‘All right, that’s two questions. So, pick which one you like more.’

We stare at each other.

I can only imagine what Paedyn might have done at this point, and it most definitely involves a dagger. But I choose a far less violent approach – maybe I can annoy him out of my life.

I take a deep breath before plastering a smile onto my face. ‘Fine,’ I say sweetly. ‘Could you stick your hand through the wall for me? I’ve just always wanted to see someone else do it.’

He lifts a hand to run it down his face. ‘Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised.’

I wait until he’s walked towards the brick and stuck out a hand. ‘Oh, wait.’ I giggle innocently while he takes his time turning towards me. ‘Not that wall. No, I wanted you to stick your hand through that one.’

I point towards the bricks opposite him, earning a sarcastic grin from the nameless man I’m not sure I wish to see again. When he reaches my wall of choice, he turns to raise an eyebrow. ‘Do you have a hand preference? Perhaps the one you sneezed on?’

‘No, that would be silly!’ I laugh lightly.

His left hand reaches for the wall.

‘On second thought, your right one.’

He turns stiffly, barely containing his abundance of annoyance. ‘Any other requests? Maybe stick my head through as well? A foot?’

I shake my head, smiling a bit too widely. ‘Nope!’

He turns back towards the wall. Several heartbeats pound past in which he simply waits. After throwing a glance over his shoulder, he deems it safe to finally slide his hand through the wall. I watch it disappear onto the other side, smiling at the familiarity of it all. It’s oddly comforting, replaceing someone with the same power running through their veins. No matter how rude they seem to be.

After freeing his hand from the wall, he throws me a tired look. ‘Satisfied?’

I cross my arms over my chest in an attempt to seem intimidating. ‘And if I’m not?’

‘Life is abundant with disappointment, I’m afraid.’ He strides back over to me, voice deep and tone dull. ‘Now, it’s time I tell you why I saved your ass.’

I pin him with a questioning look. ‘Yes, I have been wondering that. Because I’m getting the impression that it certainly wasn’t out of the goodness of your heart.’

‘Obviously not.’ He crosses stained arms over his leathered chest. ‘Speaking of, why the hell didn’t you just phase into a building and lose the Imperial?’

With a sudden urge to defend myself, I lift my chin. ‘Well, I… I never know what’s waiting on the other side.’

I am then distracted by my dim surroundings, as though seeing them for the first time. We are standing in a crumbling building, deserted by everything but whatever creatures are likely crawling around.

He stares at me for a stressful few seconds before stating, ‘Odd.’

I can feel his eyes lingering over the length of me and would rather not know what it is he’s seeing. Possibly the sweat dotting my brow, or better yet, the mop of tangled hair falling from its already messy bun. I run my sticky hand down the side of my pants self-consciously, trying to rid it of the remaining honey clinging to my palm.

When he finally looks away, his tone is suddenly serious. ‘All right, I… I need your help.’

He all but rolls his eyes at the sight of my spreading smile. ‘Sorry, could you say that one more time?’ I ask sweetly with a hand cupped around my ear.

There’s that mock sympathy seeping onto his features once again. ‘Not a chance. You’re all out of questions, hun.’ Taking a deep breath, he begins pacing absentmindedly. ‘You’re a seamstress, yes?’

‘How do you know I’m—’ My words stop the moment my heart seems to do the same. I blink at him, his features suddenly shifting into something undeniably familiar. My gasp has him startling in surprise, pressing a hand over his heart. ‘You! I know you!’

His eyes dart away from mine, guilty in the way they pointedly avoid my gaze. ‘I thought you looked familiar,’ I blurt before poking an accusing finger into his chest. ‘You’re the one who shouted at me on the street!’

He shrugs nervously, scratching a hand against the back of his shaggy hair. ‘I would prefer to call it constructive criticism, but I can see how—’

‘Well, you criticized my favorite blouse.’

‘And I stand by what I said. It should have been—’

‘Red,’ I finish through my teeth. ‘Yeah, I remember.’

He looks as though he might actually laugh. ‘Well, have you sold it yet?’

I’m unable to look at him as I grumble, ‘No, the customer agreed with you.’

He shuts his eyes, fighting some internal battle that has him blowing out a breath. ‘How incredibly unfortunate for you that they had good taste.’

My teeth grind together, the feeling foreign and full of frustration. This man is, so far, slightly insufferable. I’ve never met someone so completely cold and condescending. It’s impressive, really, his ability to ruffle even me.

The thought suddenly has me setting my jaw along with a new goal for myself. I hereby refuse to give him the satisfaction of irritating me.

And that is why I scare him with a wide smile as I say, ‘So, why is it you need my help?’

It takes him a moment to recover from my sudden shift of emotion. ‘Look.’ He sighs. ‘Someone very important to me just got sent into the Trials.’ His eyes search mine. ‘You know exactly what that’s like.’

‘How do you…?’ I trail off, confusion crinkling my brow. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I was out on the street when the coach pulled up to take the contestants to the castle.’ He clears his throat. ‘I watched Hera climb in before the Silver Savior followed. And that is when I saw you, jumping and waving at her like she was your everything.’

‘That’s because she is,’ I whisper.

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I never got to say goodbye to my everything.’ He spits out the words as though they left a bitter taste in his mouth. ‘Hera won’t make it through these Trials. And that is why I need your help.’

I pair a sympathetic look with a shake of my head. ‘What could I possibly do?’

He steps towards me, swallowing the distance between us. ‘I need to get into the castle and see her one last time. There’s something I need to give her.’ The words tumble from his mouth, urgent and more earnest than any one prior. ‘I know it might sound crazy, but if you can make me look like an Imperial, I can phase through the walls and walk around the castle without fear of getting caught.’

My lips part as shock smothers every other emotion. ‘You want me to disguise you as an Imperial?’

‘Do you have a better idea?’ he counters.

I quickly come to the conclusion that I do not, in fact, have a better idea. Each of my hands replaces a hip as I look up at him stubbornly. ‘And why would I want to help you? You haven’t exactly made a good first impression.’ I pause. ‘Either of the times we’ve met.’

‘Well, my charm isn’t for everyone.’ He sighs, lifting a hand to run his thumb over the scar splitting his lips. ‘But I assure you, this would be mutually beneficial.’

I frown. ‘How so?’

‘For starters, it’s very clear that you need… help.’ I’m about to object when he raises a sooty hand, stilling my tongue. ‘Need I remind you of your little attempt at thievery just now?’ He tsks, giving me a disapproving shake of his head. ‘I can offer you food. Water. Supplies. All of it.’

How incredibly tempting. Plague knows I won’t last long without Paedyn here to steal me sustenance. I shift on my feet. ‘And what else?’

He ducks his head slightly, his gaze piercing. ‘A chance to see your best friend again before it’s too late.’

I bristle at his insinuation. ‘Of course I’ll see her again. When this is all over.’

His words are icy enough to send a chill down my spine. ‘But what if you don’t?’

I swallow, hating that I’m even considering his words. ‘So, I would go with you. To the palace.’ He nods slowly. ‘And I would go see Paedyn while you see Hera?’

Another nod. ‘As far as I know, they should be staying in the same wing of the castle during the Trials. Though, annoyingly, I have no idea where that might be.’

‘Which is why you want an Imperial uniform. So you can walk the halls freely while you search for the wing,’ I breathe quietly, nodding in understanding.

‘Exactly.’ He extends a sooty hand, his lips tipping slightly in what might be considered a smile. ‘Do we have a deal?’

My eyes flick up from his stained palm. ‘You haven’t asked me my name.’

He blows out a breath. ‘Sorry, I was focused on more important details.’ At the flat look on my face, he grumbles, ‘By all means, please grace me with the knowledge of your name. I’m on the edge of my seat.’

I smile brightly. ‘I’m Adena. Thank you very much for asking. And what is your name?’

After shooting me a sarcastic smile, he begrudgingly answers, ‘Call me Mak.’

‘Well, Mak –’ I reach out to accept his calloused handshake – ‘you now have yourself a partner.’

‘Well, partner, we have to work quickly. There isn’t much time before the Trials begin.’