"Skye!" her voice rang out. "The weather changed! Can you see?"

"I'm fine!" I called. "Are you?"

"I think so!"

I trained my eyes on the clouds and dispersed them, letting the feel of the ground beneath my skis guide me the rest of the way down the mountain. I wanted control, but I didn't want to win by blocking her way. My goal was to beat her, fair and square.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire pull up alongside me. I crouched lower, leaning into the wind.

Focus your energy.

Find the switch.

Flip it.

I pulled ahead, pummeling toward the finish line.

Everything was within my grasp. The power rushed through me, and I no longer felt like I was skiing down the mountain. I felt like I was a part of it. I pushed myself forward, slicing across the finish line and swishing to a hard stop. I stared back up at the mountain, breathing hard, alive. I knew that I was righta"this was what I needed.

Claire came tumbling over the finish line, screeching to a halt beside me.

"Amazing time, Parker!" Coach called. "You beat your own record!" But I didn't need him to tell me that. I already knew.

Claire drew up beside me. "Whoa," she said, pulling her goggles up. "That was crazy intense."

"I know." I panted. "Good race. You were incredible."

"Not as incredible as you, Skye, jeez. You going out for captain next year?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling my own goggles up. "Yeah, I think I am."

"Me too." She grinned. "Here's to more races in our future." She reached out to shake my hand but stopped cold. "Dude," she said. "Those are some wild contacts."

Contacts? "Oh, um, yeah." I pulled my goggles back down. "I'll see you later," I said abruptly, turning and racing for the equipment house. The sky was already fading into twilight and the first stars of evening were beginning to twinkle on. I locked myself in the bathroom, pulled up my goggles, and faced myself in the mirror, grabbing the sink with both hands.

Claire was right. I'd never before seen my eyes burn a brighter silver than they were right then.

Chapter 15.

I tried to keep my adrenaline in check as I trooped back to the bus with the rest of the team. I was one of the last girls to get on, and as I walked down the aisle, I got the weird feeling that the others were watching me. Had I been that fast? That powerful? Ellie in particular eyed me as I passed her. I swung into an empty seat behind the one she shared with Maggie.

"So you're going out for captain," Ellie said, leaning over the back of her seat. "You know I am, too."

"I know," I said.

She shook her head. "You think you can just waltz back in here after leaving the team like that?" She spat the words. "What makes you think we want you?"

"I don't care if you want me," I said, my temper rising. "I want to be back." I would have been lying if I'd said I'd never dreamed about being captain of the team my senior year. I looked her square in the eye. "And I want to be captain." Ellie had been so smug all winter when she thought she'd snaked Asher away from me. It must have been just killing her to see us together.

"You would," she said. "It's just so typical of you. You think everything you want should be yours. And you don't care who you hurt in the process." She smirked at Maggie. "Ian was right about you."

I felt my cheeks flush.

"What?" I said, suddenly feeling sick.

"When we hooked up last weekend, at Carmen Shane's party." She tossed her blond curls over her shoulder. "He said you only care about what you want. That you're too wrapped up in yourself to care about anybody else."

Could that possibly have been true? Would Ian say something like that?

But then it hit me: the change I'd seen in him the night I got home. Maybe Ellie had given him that confidence. On the one hand, I was happy for him. But my stomach dropped as I thought about him saying such cruel things. Is that how he really felt about me? That I was selfish and didn't care who I hurt as long as I got what I wanted?

"You're one to talk," I shot back without pausing to think. "You're always taking what's mine."

"Or what you think is yours," she snapped. "Ian's not your property. And you're not taking captain from me, either. I worked too hard for this. It clearly doesn't mean as much to you, seeing as you were ready to just throw it away."

My cheeks burned, but I couldn't think of any kind of retort that didn't make me sound like the worst person on the planet. I fell back in my seat.

When the bus pulled up at school, Ian was sitting on the front steps. I saw him smile as Ellie wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. He glanced up, and our eyes met through the bus window. His smiled faltered, but only for a second. Then he took her hand, and the two of them walked toward the parking lot.

By the time I got off the bus, most of the girls on the team had left.

"Awesome job today, Parker," Coach said, coming around the side of the bus. "You keep that up and you'll make captain for sure."

"Thanks," I said, watching Ellie and Ian getting smaller in the distance.

Gideon and Ardith were sitting on the hood of my car, and Asher stood, leaning against the driver's side with his arms crossed. The collar of his jacket was pulled up against the wind. When they saw me approaching, Asher got up quickly. "We were waiting for you," he said. "How did it go?"

I smiled. "Coach thinks I could make captain."

Asher looked at me intently. "And did youa"feel, anything?"

I nodded, squeezing his hand. "It felt amazing," I said.

A smile lit up his face. Behind him, from the hood of the car, Gideon watched me intently. Was he still trying to make up his mind? Maybe this would prove to him that I was ready.

"I knew you could do this," Asher said. "Actually, it makes total sense. You don't let anyone boss you around. Your powers were never going to emerge with Devin and me yelling at you."

I was about to say that yes, it was truea"I'd needed to do it on my own. But the parking lot began to fade around me. Still feeling strong from the race, I was ready this time for the vision. I closed my eyes and tried to stay standing.

When I opened them again, I was in the upstairs hallway of my house. Strange, I thought. I glanced to my right, at the door to my bedroom, which was slightly ajar. Light spilled out into the dark hallway, and a pair of scuffed-up boots were just visible at the foot of the bed. Asher's? To my left was the bathroom. The door was open and the lights were off. I peeked over the railing, down the stairs. The whole house was dark and silent. Where was Aunt Jo?

Directly ahead of me was her bedroom. I walked toward it, almost like gravity was a force inside, pulling me along. I ran my hands along the walls to guide me in the semidarkness. The door to Aunt Jo's bedroom wasn't closed all the way. I pushed it open and turned on the light.

Her room was empty. The bed was unmade. Clothes were draped over the chair in the corner. She wasn't home yet. I turned toward the closet, and slowly, slowly reached my hand out to open it.

What was I looking for?

Rows of Aunt Jo's familiar sweaters hung in a faded rainbow. Her jeans and work pants were folded haphazardly on a tower of shelves, poking out and flopping over the edge like she went to pull out several pairs each morning before deciding on the right one. I ran my hands over the soft fabric of her coats, lingered on the laces of a pair of hiking boots. These were familiar to me, comforting. The shapes and images, colors and fabrics that populated my childhood.

In the corner of the closet was a stepladder, and I climbed onto it, peering at the upper shelves. That's where I spotted it. A nondescript, plain, unmarked shoe box. As if time were moving in slow motion, I opened the lid. . . .

The parking lot came rushing back. Asher, Gideon, and Ardith were peering at me. I was still standing, but the ground pitched beneath me now, and I leaned against the side of the car for support.

"What did you see?" Asher asked, reaching out to help steady me.

"Aunt Jo's closet?" My hands were shaking. "I'm not sure."

"I wonder what it means," Ardith said.

Gideon stayed silent.

As Asher drove the four of us back to my house, I felt jittery and distracted. What had I seen? Part of me wondered if the shoe box was real. If something was in there that I was meant to find.

Aunt Jo wasn't home from work yet, so we went out onto the deck and pulled several of the Adirondack chairs into a circle. The early evening was clear and bright. The mountains loomed over us in the distance.

"I love Colorado," Ardith cooed. "The mountains are so passionate. They just make me want to run to the top and yell obscene things to the valleys below."

"Ardith," Gideon said. "Really." But he was smiling, and in the light his brown eyes looked softer than they had the night we'd encountered Devin. He put his hand on Ardith's, and she smiled adoringly at him.

"It's true! Don't you want to?"

Asher was leaning back in his chair, legs splayed out in front of him and a grin on his face. "I like Colorado, too," he said. I glanced at him, and he met my eye somewhat conspiratorially. Was he implying he could stay here? Would stay here? With me?

"There's something majestic about it," Gideon said, smiling. "Like there's some ancient magic in those mountains." He looked at me with interest. "When you're skiing, you're more connected to the forces around you. Skiers are very connected to the natural world. To the ebb and flow of life. I'm not surprised the Rebel powers are so strong in you."

Asher and I looked at each other, breaking into smiles at the same time. I knew that we were both remembering the avalanche I'd caused.

"Just like with skiing," Gideon said, "the key to unlocking the true potential of your powers is control."

"Great." Asher laughed. "Skye needs more control issues."

"Hey!" I whipped at him with my scarf.

"I'm serious," Gideon continued. "If you want to learn how to fight the Order's mental manipulation, I will help you."

The group fell silent. Ardith looked uncomfortably between us.

"You'll teach me?" I asked. "Really?"

"Gid, are you sure?"

There was anguish in Ardith's eyes. I knew she felt torn. I needed this to get stronger, more powerful. But would it take a toll on Gideon's mind? Or my own?

"I'll try," he said, nodding absently to himself, as if confirming some question only he could hear. "Instead of relaxing your minda"which is what you want to do when you're trying to make it rain, or say, ignite a sparka"when you're blocking your mind, what you're working on is building and deconstructing walls."

He paused, making sure I understood. I nodded and he continued. "Now close your eyes. What do you see?"

"Darkness. Nothingness."

"Good. Now I want you to picture a wall going up. Brick by brick. A thick, impenetrable wall."

In my mind's eye, I pictured bricks stacking themselves one on top of another. Blocking out the darkness. Creating further darkness.

"Okay," I said, my eyes still closed. "I'm doing it."

"Now I'm going to try to do what a Guardian might doa"try to subtly influence your mood and feelings, what you're thinking. And I want you to recognize it, and block it out."

I closed my eyes again. Within moments an unearthly calm began to creep over me. I felt secure, comfortable, happy. At peace. It reminded me of Devin's perpetual state of calm. This time, deep down, I knew that it wasn't real.

As soon as I realized it was mental manipulation, a fresh wave of calm washed over me. But I didn't want to block it out. I wanted to feel this calm and happy forever. If I joined the Order, would I feel this way all the time? I really could see what Devin had been saying about the Order this whole time. How wonderful would a place with no troubles be?

But something about it didn't feel right. Like when I was skiing and the ground beneath me shifted dangerously, I knew I couldn't trust this feeling.

Slowly and with great effort, I began to stack the bricks again, but they were so heavy. My mind was buckling under the weight of them. The calm persisted, forcing them down in my hands. I couldn't lift them anymore. They were too heavy . . . and the calm washed over me, obliterating all other feelings in the world. I was floating on a cloud, blissful, oblivious. . . .

Someone had taken hold of my arms, and I heard a voice. "Skye. Skye!" The peaceful tranquility washed away, and as I opened my eyes, I found Asher, Ardith, and Gideon staring at me. A cold, empty unease sat in my chest.

"Are you okay?" Gideon asked, still holding my arms. "Was that too much for a first try?" I blinked several times, trying to refocus my vision. The cold pit in my chest began to soften, breaking into fine pieces and scattering away with each breath I took. I continued to breathe deep, steadying myself.

"Skye," Asher said, looking concerned. "Answer us. Are you okay?"

"Yes," I said faintly. I felt violated, used, manipulated. I understood now how Gideon couldn't endure a constant stream of this and fully make it back. It took something from you. Maybe that was the way to recognize when the Order was influencing your mind. Thisa"this was abuse.

"You did well for your first time," Gideon said. He looked like he was trying to focus his own eyes, too. I wondered if it was hard for him to see me go through it, if it brought back memories he'd rather bury. "You came very close."

"It's easier now than it will be when you're up against a real Guardian," Ardith said, coming up to me and putting her hand on my back. "He learned from the Order, but he's nowhere near as strong as they are."

My palms had begun to sweat and nausea was sweeping through me. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. Somewhere, in the far reaches of my mind, I heard a car pull up in the driveway and cut the engine. There were footsteps on the gravel leading up to the house. I opened my eyes and sat up quickly.

"Aunt Jo's home." The footsteps were now walking through the house. Asher glanced uneasily at the door to the deck. Gideon and Ardith shifted as the door slid open and Aunt Jo walked out. Her eyes moved from Asher to the Rebels and then landed on me. Something was raging in her eyes, but I had no idea what.

"Skye," she said. "You're still grounded."

"I know," I said quickly. "But I figureda"if we were at my housea""

"Everybody out," she interrupted. The quiet in her voice was almost scarier than when she really got mad and was yelling all over the place. This was a side of Aunt Jo that I'd never seen, and I didn't like it.

"These are my friends," I said, my voice rising. "You can'ta""

"It's my house," she said. "I can."