After school, I was loading books into my locker, fantasizing about the run I was about to take, when Cassie hobbled over to me. Ian wasn't far behind, carrying her books.

"So," she said, "I'm thinking Bean. I'm thinking free chai lattes courtesy of everyone's favorite barista. I'm thinking disaster-movie marathon, your place. Thoughts? Comments? Questions?"

"Still grounded." I shrugged. "But Friday night, it's on. Okay?"

Cassie pouted. "Fine. Man, Aunt Jo is really taking this hard, isn't she?"

I thought about her coldness toward Asher and the general mood around the house.

"Yeah," I said. "She's not happy."

"Well, give it time," Cassie said. "She loves you. She's just glad you're back, that's all."

I hoped that was it.

As soon as I was home, it was school clothes off, running clothes on. I was itching to get out and pound through the trails. The morning's storm had cleared up with my mood, and the air was fresh and clean.

I raced up a different trail this time, feeling the earth crunch beneath my feet, the wind whip at my face. The remaining raindrops on the branches twinkled around me, scattering with each new breeze and falling into my eyes. I felt even more connected than the day before. As I snaked up the path, trees moved, their roots untangling from the earth and then retrenching again in my wake. Branches bowed to let me pass. I was a part of the natural world, working in tandem with it and yet controlling it, too. It was exhilarating and strange.

The end of the trail opened into a clearing at the base of the woods. The sky was beginning to grow too dark for me to continue back through the heavy brush, so instead of doubling back through the trees, I jogged out onto the road. As I ran along, I created a tiny bright ball of fire in my hands, setting it free to guide me in the darkness.

I was just rounding a curve when I heard a staccato noise behind me, growing louder. I sped up, and the noise behind me sped up, too. My body jolted into high alert.

I'm being followed.

Dusk had settled along the tree-lined road. With the orb of light to guide me, I was fine as long as the true darkness held off until I got home. But it also meant that my pursuer had an easy way to track me. Spring was nearing, but it wasn't here yet, and I knew that as soon as the sun set completely, the freezing cold night would fall over the mountains. On the silent road, something crunched on the gravel behind me. I whipped around, my hands raised to throw fire or wind or sleet or whatever I needed to protect myself. I was pretty sure my practice would pay off.

Between my outstretched fingertips, I could just make out a face. Devin's. Our eyes met in the dusk. My body went cold.

"Don't," he called. "Don't attack."

"What do you want?" A familiar voice cut in from behind me. I turned to see Gideon. There was a hollow toughness to his eyes, and anyone could tell from looking at him now that he'd been in some difficult battles before. "Get away from her," he growled. "Leave her alone. Haven't you done enough?"

"She doesn't need you to fight her battles," Devin said calmly, his absolute tranquility radiating to me from where he stood. I began to let my hands fall to my sides. The calming shift in mood seemed to have no effect on Gideon.

"Did you hear me?" Gideon barked. "Leave her alone. She doesn't want you anywhere near her. I can't stand to look at you."

Devin looked at mea"as if he was asking a question of me with his eyes. As if he expected me to understand what he was thinking. The look in his eyes was almost pleading. What? I wanted to say. No, I wanted to scream it. What do you want? But I kept silent, tried to look stony even though I was torn up inside. He didn't get to ask me questions. He didn't deserve my sympathy.

When he realized I wasn't going to say another word, he glanced over my shoulder at Gideon. Then he set his jaw, turned, and in a flash of white feathers, he was gone.

"Are you okay?" Gideon asked. His face seemed flushed in the dusk, and his dark hair was wild, as if he'd been runninga"or flying. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I said. "He was following me. That's all." Even though it was the truth, I realized there was a defensive note in my voicea"like I was trying to protect Devin. Gideon frowned. He'd seemed so sweet and laid-back at schoola"but there was no mercy in his eyes tonight.

"Probably trying to shake you up, make you feel vulnerable." He nodded to himself. "He wants to get back on your good side. So he doesn't attack just yet. He doesn't come off as a threat right away."

I shivered. "You really think that's what he's doing?"

"He's trying to make you think he's asking forgiveness. I've seen it happen before. You're too smart to fall for that."

Am I? I wondered. If Gideon hadn't come along, would I have caved and let Devin talk? Would I have been powerless to his calming presence? Devin and I had spent so much time together. He had helped me so much, believed I could be the warrior he knew I was deep down. He'd pushed me harder than anyone had ever pushed me before. I'd felt so close to him, and when we were both able to break down each other's walls, it came as just as much a shock to him as it did to me.

But when I had stared into his familiar blue eyes just now, he seemed like a stranger.

"I'm glad you were here," I said to Gideon. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said. He stared down the darkening road where Devin had vanished, his gaze losing focus for a second. It was like he was here and, at the same time, so many miles away from where we stood. I shifted slightly, my feet crunching on the gravel. His eyes refocused on me as if suddenly remembering I was there. "Come on. I'll walk you home. It's dark."

I was grateful for his company. He was smaller than Asher but tough and wiry. The intense look in his eyes remained. An idea was already forming in my mind. I just hoped he'd agree to go along with it.

When we got to the front door, I turned to him.

"Ardith told me . . . about your past," I said, trying to think of a way to say what I was thinking.

"Yeah," said Gideon, adjusting his glasses nervously. "I thought she might."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's good that you know."

"I was hoping," I began. "Would you help me? Will you teach me the tricks you learned? How to fight them?"

The look in Gideon's eyes folded inward to some private place. Pain flashed across his face, like he was reliving something terrible.

"It isn't easy," he said finally. "It took me a long time to learn. And there are . . ." He paused. "Side effects."

"Please," I said plaintively. "I need your help. It's the only way I can take control of all of this." I spread my arms to encompass, well, everything. "I don't want to be vulnerable again, Gideon. What if next time you aren't there to fend him off?"

He looked at me as if trying to appraise whether or not I was worthy. After a couple of seconds, the look in his eyes softened, and he was once again the boy I'd met at school. Poor Gideon. My heart felt so heavy with the weight of his story, I almost wished Ardith hadn't told me.

"Ia"I want you to be as strong as you can be," he said. "But I don't know if Ia"if I'm ready. I have to think about it. I need some time."

My hopes fell.

"Okay," I said. "I understand. But when you're ready? I hope you'll find me."

"I will," he said. "I will."

There was a strange energy buzzing through me as I stalked around the house that night. It all felt finally within my graspa"so close I could reach out and touch it. I was taking steps to control my own destiny. Soon I wasn't going to be confused anymore.

Aunt Jo was still tense and standoffish. I didn't know why. She had been okay the night I'd come homea"mad but happy I was safe and alive. Was it only just sinking in for her? Or was it something else? This new tension had started right around the night Asher had come over. Was it possible her anger had something to do with him? It didn't make any sense. Asher was charminga"even the most difficult of teachers loved him. So why didn't Aunt Jo?

I locked myself in my room to try to tackle some of the mountains of catch-up work I'd been assigned, but my mind wandered and I couldn't focus. Eventually I gave up and got ready for bed early, wondering if Asher would come. I hadn't seen him since study hall, and I realized, laughing to myself, that I missed him. So this is what it feels like, I thought, a small private smile stealing across my lips.

I didn't want to spend my time away from him. Every minute that passed was one minute closer to the next time I'd see him again.

When I got back from the bathroom, freshly showered and with my hair knotted on top of my head, I paused. There was something dark resting on my pillow. As I drew closer, I noticed it was a small, delicate, purple flowera"the kind that grew along the side of our house in the spring.

It was the same kind of flower that Devin had tried to get me to resurrect. My powers had failed me, and when I'd opened my hands, the flower was still cold and lifeless, a withered brown. The flowers around our house didn't appear to be in bloom yet, so they definitely wouldn't be as purple or alive as the flower that lay on my pillow now. This one had been brought back to life. By a Guardian.

Was it a threat? Or did it mean something else? My mind reeled as I wondered if it was Devin's way of asking for a chance to explain. Did I really want him to?

I placed the flower with the other artifacts I'd been collecting on my dresser: the white feather and the notebook. The confusing ephemera of my life.

I got under the covers and switched off my bedside lamp, but I couldn't quiet my mind. The energy from my run and the adrenaline from everything after pulsed in my ears. Where was Asher?

If Gideon wasn't sure he could teach me to fight the Order's mental manipulation, I needed to find another way. Running was one way to channel my powers. It was a start, but it wasn't intense enough. It was sloppy and freeinga"it didn't require the precision I knew I needed in order to focus. Only one thing I knew could do that.

Skiing.

I'd quit the team because I'd been afraid of what my powers might do if I lost control in the heat of the moment. My teammates would get hurt. I'd been terrified that I might cause another avalanche, or worse.

But I knew that I had changed. In the woods the night I'd almost died, I'd caused the earth to shake and lightning to crack and trees to split and fall to the ground. And I couldn't control it, couldn't stop it. Now I could feel myself grow stronger with each run. I was learning control.

I'd been so afraid before that night when Devin had tried to kill me. But strangely, I wasn't afraid anymore.

This time I knew that skiing would help me to focus my powersa"not threaten the balance within me. Through skiing, maybe I could find what I'd been searching for.

I made a decision right then. The next day, I would rejoin the ski team.

Chapter 13.

In the morning, Aunt Jo flitted about the kitchen like a trapped bird, not sure what she was doing or where she was going next, only concerned with keeping alight.

"I'll be home for dinner," she said. "What else?" She rested for a second by the counter. She looked tired, like she hadn't been sleeping very well.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Me? Fine, fine. You'll call me if you need anything, right?" She'd finished washing the dishes and was still holding an empty mug in her hand, turning it over and over. "Right?"

"Right . . ."

She absentmindedly put the mug in the sink, even though she'd just washed it, and left the room. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam and her car start. If it was possible to feel like an outsider in your own home, that's how I felt. Like she couldn't get away from me fast enough. Like she didn't want to talk to me or touch me or even be in the same room.

I finished my cereal and left a few minutes later. On the way to school, I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music, giddy at the thought of being back on the ski team. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it.

Even though it was only March, everything felt like it was coming alivea"including me. It had been a long, cold winter, a dark winter, full of fear and an aching I'd never known before. But now the spring was coming and I could feel it at the tips of my fingers and on my cheeks. I could choose what I wanted to be.

The student lot was deserted, and I pulled into a spot close to the front doors. I had gotten to school especially early today. I had a feeling I would run into someone here. And I wanted to be alone with him when I did.

The halls were mostly empty. As I walked, the heavy soles of my boots echoing against the shiny floor, I caught sight of a dark figure retreating at the other end of the hallway. His solid frame was silhouetted against the window.

For a second I thought I'd fallen into one of my dreams, the ones that kept repeating until I could barely remember what the truth was anymore. But this wasn't a dream.

I stopped short.

"Hey," I called. "Hey! Devin!" My voice echoed down the empty corridor. The figure stopped walking and stayed still. His head was lowered as if he was looking at the ground.

I sucked in my breath. Suddenly I wasn't so sure I wanted to do this.

Slowly he turned around and lifted his eyes from the ground in front of him. They were cold, blue as a frozen lake. Memories of Devin came rushing back to me. I remembered the night I first saw him at Love the Bean; the day we met, outside of homeroom; our snowball fight; and the morning after when I woke up lying next to him. How could those eyes, that had looked so sleepy and innocent and surprised to find me in his bed that morninga"how could those eyes be capable of such coldness? How could they look at me as if I meant nothing to him? As if emotion wasn't something that you felt but that you chosea"cold and calculated just like the Order had taught him?

Hadn't he cared about me at all?

Hadn't he loved me?

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Did you want to talk to me? I thought . . ." I wasn't sure what I thought. "Didn't you leave me . . . a flower?"

He looked at me questioningly.

"Look, I have a lot of questions," I said. "And I think I deserve some answers."

He looked away. "What makes you think I have the answers?"

"Because you're the one who tried to kill me."

His attention snapped back to me. His eyes were hard.

"Go ahead, then."

But suddenly confronted with the idea of finding out the truth, my heart shrank. If he didn't love me, it would hurt. Even though I was devoted to Asher, had chosen him completely, there was something about the Guardian that I felt so sad about giving up. If he didn't love mea"or if he did love me and had agreed to kill me anywaya"well, then, the pain would be like the sword he'd stabbed me with, twisting sharply in my gut.

Suddenly I didn't want to be hurt again by him. By anyone, really. The Skye who had waffled back and forth for so long between the Order and the Rebelliona"between Devin and Ashera"seemed like a person in a book who I had read about once. Someone remote and fictional. She wasn't me. She never would be again.

"Never mind," I said. "I don't want to know." I started to turn, to walk away back down the empty hall.

"I dreamed about you," he blurted out. His voice broke into the silent hallway, catching me off-guard. "Every night . . . after it happened. I still do."

I turned around in shock. "What?"

He looked just as shocked as I did at the words that had flown out of his mouth. But he kept talking. "I thought you were dead. When I drew the sword out and you fell, and . . . he . . . pulled you away, I thought you were dead. But then when none of the Gifted would tell me the status of the mission, I knew they didn't know. And I had to hope that if they didn't know, it meant you were still alive, blurring out your own destiny and that of the people whose lives you touch. Hiding from the Order. I had to hope that I had failed. And you were still alive."

"Why are you telling me this?" I felt shaky, my resolve cracking.

"If you're still able to do thata"blur destinya"then soon there will be no such thing as destiny at all. And the Order will be pointless. They know that, Skye. It's not safe for you here." He paused, his voice level and even, as if he wasn't affected by what he was saying, as if he had no fear at all. How could someone seem to be so full of so many different emotions and yet be incapable of feeling any of them? "You're going to destroy us all," he said. The calm in his voice was maddening.

"Now you're warning me?"