Mr. Parks kept the match under close control. When he called for a break, Reid and Tomi were dripping in sweat and fighting for air. I didn't want to eavesdrop on Mr. Parks' evaluation so I went into the kitchen.

After watching Tomi and Reid, I sized them up as compet.i.tors and didn't think I could best them time and again. I stood at the refrigerator with the door open lost in thought when Reid walked into the kitchen with a towel on his head.

"Want a hug?" he smiled as he stretched his arms out at me. They glistened with sweat and his face was bright red from exercise. His eyes beamed with delight knowing I would not want to be wrapped up in his embrace.

"Maybe AFTER you shower," I negotiated carefully. The refrigerator door was to my back and he continued to walk toward me with his arms out like Frankenstein. Ew. No thanks. He would get me soaked and I didn't bring a change of clothes. My mind spun for an exit as he backed me against the refrigerator door.

I spotted my defense and grabbed the Reddi-wip can from the refrigerator shelf and popped off the red cap. He took another step and his eyes widened in disbelief as I shook it up and put my thumb on the dispenser tube. "I'm warning you."

"You wouldn't," Reid challenged. His eyes reviewed me for a sign I was bluffing. The standoff heated the atmosphere of the kitchen despite the cold air flooding out of the appliance behind me. He moved toward me so I closed my eyes and pressed down. The white whipped cream splattered his face and, as I blinded him, I slipped past him.

Reid laughed. "I can't believe you did it. Clearly, I miscalculated. Is that thing turbo charged?" He wiped it off his face with the towel that was on his head and licked his lips. "Mmmm..."

"Tomi, as you can see, I can't leave these two alone for a second. This is Whitney, also known as the Reddi-wip bandit. Perhaps it is no surprise to you that she is one of my panther stylists. Reid, don't you know yet she will always do the unexpected?" Mr. Parks said, chuckling at Reid's messy face. "You did not expect to end up with a face full of whipped cream. That should have been your clue that you would."

"Nope. Definitely didn't think my girlfriend would mace me with whipped cream to avoid a harmless hug. Don't get any ideas, Chiang. My life has been nothing but trouble since I have met her," Reid said as he peeled off his soaked shirt. I smiled as I felt him cross into my mind.

"That's true. Although most of the trouble is your own fault." I set down my dessert canister weapon on the counter and used my peripheral vision to check Reid out.

"Whitney, I think we will be good friends. That almost made up for me losing my match to Wallace. Almost. I hope we always meet under such enjoyable circ.u.mstances," Tomi said as he walked toward the door. "Bye, Wallace. Or should I say cream puff?" Tomi ducked out the door before the towel Reid launched at him could hit him.

"Hurry up and shower, Reid. Whitney and I will be waiting for you." Mr. Parks picked up the teapot and I grabbed the cups. I followed him to the low table that overlooked the woods.

He poured the tea for us and asked, "What did you think of the match?"

"Honestly? I was thinking that I wouldn't want to fight either one of them. You have trained them both well. Reid is quick and fatiguing and Tomi is a human wrecking ball. I am not sure how I beat Reid in the past or if I could pull it off again." I wrapped my hands around the cup and let it warm me. Vulnerability made me cold and the thought I may have been lucky against Reid gave me a chill.

"Things are not always what they seem. That is why I wanted you to see them fight. Yes, they have superior strength but you win through evasion and strategy. Do not ever underestimate its power. Solve problems; do not fight them. You will need to remember this if you are outnumbered. That is why you and Reid need more training as a team. Today, we will do tandem work."

My inner warning alarm went off and I sensed I wasn't going to like "tandem work." As a trained survivor, I was more comfortable on my own. Reflexively, I looked at the open sliding gla.s.s door. Mr. Parks followed my eyes.

"This is precisely why you need the tandem training. A worthy adversary looks for a weakness and will exploit it. You know how this is done. It is your strength." Mr. Parks smiled. "But it can also be done to you. A team must also have good timing."

Reid walked into the room. His hair was wet from the shower but he had changed into jeans and a T-shirt. It was odd he was wearing socks.

He crossed the wooden floor to the middle of the room and looked like he was waiting for something. I looked at him blankly. "Oh, he hasn't told you? Before you freak out, let me say this wasn't my idea. I'm going along with it for the good of the team."

Mr. Parks tossed me a pair of socks. I usually trained barefooted and had only worn flip-flops. "Put these on and stand facing Reid." He walked to the light switch and the overhead lights went out. He flipped another switch and Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop *Til You Get Enough" started to play loudly through the in-room speakers.

My hands got cold and clammy. Dancing? "No way. You've got to be kidding."

"I know, I tried to talk him out of Michael and go with something slower after I saw you mangle the hula but he ignored me." Reid held out his hand and waited for me to take it. I felt frozen. I wasn't talking about the music choice. I was talking about dancing.

"Start!" Mr. Parks barked. He turned to walk into the kitchen. "I will be back before the song ends and I want to see what you can do."

I was agitated as I grabbed Reid's hand. It was the only thing I knew to do and Reid looked like he was on autopilot. He pulled me close to him and my heart felt like it was about to explode. I did not even know what to call the moves his feet were doing. It was far beyond swaying at the middle school dance and my terror escalated.

Music was not my friend and the beat pounded into me and the chords tripped me up. I could not stay in sync with him and I hated feeling so inept. It was immediately apparent the difference between someone who had practiced dancing with a partner hundreds of times at Junior a.s.sembly and someone who had not.

"You've got to stop resisting." His eyes twinkled and I got the distinct impression he was trying not to smile. I became stiff as a board when he picked me up and held me closer. He set me down on top of his feet. "Relax. Rest your feet on top of mine so we can actually move forward. This is not that hard, martial arts expert. It is just a little something called dancing. Other people pull it off all the time and they think it is fun."

Reid made me laugh. I couldn't fight the magnetic pull between us and I didn't have any better ideas. If I didn't figure something out quickly, Mr. Parks would get involved and that thought was even more embarra.s.sing than me fumbling into Reid.

I held onto him more tightly and he expertly whirled us through the music. The gentle touch of his fingertips and the shift of his weight changed our direction. Together, we were gliding across the floor with grace and mastery. I stopped resisting and found when I did I felt as light as air. It was a persuasive and alluring connection and I did not expect the experience to be so powerful.

The last time I felt this free was on the boat when learning to close my third eye. This was different because beyond the euphoric haze there was the cool rush of air on my skin and the heat of synchronized movement. My feet rested on top of Reid's and the dance carried me away as we moved together in perfect harmony. The faster we moved, the more the light of the room blurred. A purple glow seemed to have encircled us like a sparkler trail. It was a beautiful light but it became so bright, it was like looking at the sun. I closed my eyes and felt Reid's lips meet mine. The music stopped.

"Tandem work is not so bad?" Mr. Parks asked from the doorway. He had a misty look in his eye and I wondered what he was thinking about. I crossed into his mind and saw he was remembering a dance with his wife, Chen. I heard her delicate wind chime laugh as he dipped her and saw her delicate silk slippers embroidered with cranes in flight. She looked fragile and frail and her beauty was haunting. There was a sense of foreboding from the memory.

"It was our last dance together. She was imprisoned the next day. They did not know she was dying of cancer." My breath caught in my throat. Perhaps Vlad did not as heavily influence her suicide as I thought. Mr. Parks nodded. "Nothing is ever quite as it seems."

Chapter Six: Trip the Light Fantastic.

Mr. Parks clapped his hands once and called a break. Despite the command, Reid did not immediately relax his arms. We stayed for a second longer in the purple haze and the connection broke when Mr. Parks rested his hand on Reid's shoulder. Suddenly, the room spun into sharp focus. "Tandem work is not so bad, huh?" Mr. Parks repeated. "Together is better."

My voice sounded faraway and distant to my own ears as I heard myself speak. "Not so bad. But sparring is easier. I can't believe I am saying that so soon after watching Reid and Tomi's match today." I felt oddly detached and unexpectedly lightheaded. I couldn't make sense of it. The last time I felt this way was when I had danced with Reid at his party months ago, but I had dismissed the feeling because he was spinning me around so much. Could this incredible feeling be from us moving to the music together?

"Music is a sound wave of energy and extremely powerful. Empaths can understand and ride these sound waves and translate them into an expression of movement and emotion. I wanted to see how you would antic.i.p.ate Reid's movement in a more positive way than sparring. My guess was correct that together you move in perfect harmony." Mr. Parks nodded to himself as he explained his objective to me.

This went way beyond Junior a.s.sembly practice and it prompted me to think about Sean's mixed tape. Reid had translated the message of the music on the tape and decided to call my attention to it even though he was fully aware it would irritate me. That's why he had the song "Africa" in the CD player. I had to give him props for finesse but questioned whether he was more concerned for my safety or more focused on his own benefit. My mind flashed back to him pushing Sean into the pool at Gary's party and there was no doubt he didn't like Sean around me.

For the first time, I recognized the obvious fact that I hadn't played Sean's tape either. Intuitively, something about it made me wary. Perhaps it did have to do with the musical energy choices on the tape or that I knew I would have a hard time looking Sean in the eye after I heard it. Either way, Reid and I had reached the same conclusion.

"Reid, would you say that Whitney did well for a novice? It seemed like you two quickly discovered how to trip the light fantastic," Mr. Parks challenged. Reid mentioned he had doubted the Michael Jackson song choice and now Mr. Parks was reminding him of it. I grinned at the way Mr. Parks masterfully created a teachable moment for Reid as I rolled the words "to trip the light fantastic" through my mind. Mr. Parks did not select that unusual phrase for dancing without purpose. He must have seen the light as well.

"You lied when you said Whitney could handle it because she was the best." Reid's deep voice rumbled through my head as he casually answered Mr. Parks. He had a somber look on his face and his adversarial response jostled me from my daze. His lackl.u.s.ter review made my already flushed cheeks burn with embarra.s.sment. He cut short my plan to flee the scene by continuing, "She's better. It was like the ground beneath us did not exist. I've sort of told this to her once before, but for me, dancing with Whitney is the best feeling in the world."

I was glad my cheeks were flushed. Dancing together was not what I thought Reid had been referring to when we debated the best feeling in the world after I raced his BMW down the parkway. At least our feeling about dancing was mutual. I would have kept going into the heady oblivion if Mr. Parks had not called a break. It was freeing to have no choice but to rely completely on my intuition. Mr. Parks often repeated a Taoist quote to me and today it finally made sense. He told me, "Let go of who you are, to become what you might be." When I was dancing, I felt as light as air and thought we were actually flying.

A figure in a navy UVA baseball hat and matching sweatshirt was coming toward the dojo. The figure had Dr. West's voice and I honed in on the black bag he was carrying in his hand. There was a small red cross st.i.tched on the fabric and my stomach felt queasy as I realized why he would need a medical case.

"Special delivery," Dr. West said as he walked briskly into the dojo. He set the padded black bag on the low table and unzipped it to reveal a complete vaccination kit. There were a lot of syringes and several small, silver-rimmed bottles of clear serum. Dr. West looked directly at me and said, "Time flies when you're having fun. Who's ready to kick off my vaccination party?"

"Not much of an invitation. Any chance I can forget to RSVP?" I asked, watching him fill up a syringe. He squirted some of the excess serum into the air and flicked the syringe with his middle finger to get the air bubble out.

He grinned at my remark. "Nope. No exceptions. Roll up your sleeve, Wink."

My shoulders slumped in defeat. I sat on the edge of the low table and bared my left arm. The wet alcohol swab rubbed across my arm and I turned the other way.

Reid glanced at the vast a.s.sortment of syringes and sat down next to me. He seemed to know I could use a distraction. He picked up my hand and rubbed it in response to its chilled temperature. "How did Whitney get the nickname Wink? You are the only one I ever hear call her that."

"Whitney's dad used to call her Wink and, when she was little, she often called herself Wink. So, in the wink of an eye-it stuck." Dr. West injected my shoulder with my first vaccination when he said the word stuck. I scowled at the unnecessary emphasis. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Glad I could help you out," I said sarcastically to Dr. West. "The reason my dad called me Wink is because my mom did. She sang *Wynken, Blynken, and Nod' to me each night. There was something about the poem and my mother's voice that captivated me."

I had not forgotten the sound of my mother's voice singing to the poem "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod" but I rarely allowed myself to remember it. The clarity of her voice rang through the air like no one I had ever heard. For a second, I recalled how I loved to drift to sleep dreaming I was sailing through the stars to the sound of her voice and blinked away the tears that stung the back of my eyes.

Dr. West rubbed another spot on my shoulder with an alcohol swab. He absentmindedly started to hum along to the sound of my mother's voice I was replaying inside my head. We were again on the same wavelength. He said aloud, "Ellen had a beautiful voice. It was so melodious and as clear as a bell. She could talk you into anything with it. There was no stopping her from what she wanted to do."

"Headstrong and stubborn? Sounds familiar. Must be a family trait." Reid squeezed my hand.

"Hmph. Isn't that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?" I asked. Dr. West laughed, and he picked up another shot as he continued to use my shoulder as a pincushion. This one burned as he pushed the serum into my muscle.

"How many of these are we getting?" I complained. I had a field hockey game in a few days and I needed both arms to control my stick. My arm was starting to ache and I had a bad feeling it was going to be worse before it was better.

"Only a few more. You don't want to miss these two. They are the malaria and yellow fever vaccines. They are also a key reason the trip was delayed a week. Immunity doesn't happen overnight."?

"I didn't know the vaccines had anything to do with our departure. Diana had mentioned it was good timing for us to leave so I thought the decision was based on the Sirius B star orbit. You know, the spear would glow with its infused pure energy because of its proximity to the orbiting star."

"Yeah, we saunter into a cave, pick up the glowing spear, and leave. Do we link arms and sing as we skip home? Come on, Whit. You do know it's not going to be that easy, right?" His brown eyes looked serious and my silence condemned me. I DID a.s.sume retrieving the spear would be fairly simple, although I didn't think we would be singing and skipping. Reid reminded me that planning and intelligence also had its place in decision-making and it was irresponsible to be too overconfident, especially with Blair and Patrick involved.

"c.o.c.ky panthers," Reid scoffed. "We can't afford a.s.sumptions on this trip because I'm sure we are not the first group of people to try and retrieve one of the most powerful and legendary weapons in world history. It has stayed hidden for a reason."

My arm throbbed and Reid's panther comment stung. I might have been guilty as charged in this instance but Blair did not a.s.sume anything, ever. She would never proceed without a plan-even going to Patrick's house had involved code names, disguises, and duct tape. Before I could open my mouth and launch to her defense, Dr. West interrupted me. "I agree with Reid that this trip will not be easy. He has guardian instincts and if the Dogon have been chosen as guardians of the spear, it is for good reason. There will be protection in place and you will need to be vigilant and use all your training. Fortunately, the rainy season has ended and we will be gone before the Harmattan haze so visibility won't be an issue."

"Harmattan haze? What is that?" It sounded ominous and didn't fit with the panoramic helicopter shots of the wide-open gra.s.slands from the National Geographic specials that lingered in my mind. I had not thought about the weather details and I chided myself for not being sharper.

Dr. West nodded and answered, "The Harmattan haze is a dry and dusty trade wind that blows over the Sahara. It frequently grounds aircraft so it's better for us to avoid it. We don't need any unforeseen delays. A quick trip is our objective."

"Why do you say that so cautiously? Are you uncertain as to how fast we will complete the mission?" I didn't like that Dr. West said the word "unforeseen" or his lukewarm tone. I knit my eyebrows as I studied him for further clues.

"You know my precognition with you is fuzzy, Whitney. Emotional connections sometimes distort the ability to see clearly." He laughed at my serious expression. "Take it easy. I wouldn't let you go if I thought I would never see you again. My focus is always on your survival-at any cost. There will be a lot of human connections on this trip and that makes things dramatically more complicated to predict. As you know, free will can change the outcome of many things and Timbuktu is impoverished even by third world standards. On this trip, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. That's why I am focused on you all NOT needing any medical care. In every situation, I expect you to make smart choices and do frequent risk a.s.sessments. Success is most often dictated by the small choices you make.

"And speaking of small but important choices, let me brief you both on food. Reid, if you must eat locally, I recommend you stick to the millet and rice. The Dogon use a peanut sauce for the chicken and even though they may promise you the dish has no peanuts, they may not fully understand that the peanut protein from a prior dish could cause you to become ill. Even with your language fluency, they may not fully understand that all pots, pans, and utensils are required to be thoroughly scrubbed beforehand to be free of the peanut protein. Not worth the risk, agreed?"

Reid listened carefully and nodded. "Got it. Traveling with my food allergy has taught me to be cautious. Grains and rice-sounds like exhilarating mush. Can I chew on some twigs for some crunch?"

"Don't you mean scorpions for their extra little kick and dash of protein?" I joked. I saw the dimple in his cheek as he smiled.

Dr. West gave me another needle poke in my arm. "You aren't totally off the hook either, Whitney. The Dogon's spiritual leader, the Hogon, is typically presented with kola nuts. Do us all a favor and don't touch them. Your macadamia nut allergy is unusual and I don't like that the kola tree is from a similar tropical environment. Let Blair and Patrick handle them."

Mr. Parks came back toward the table. He set down a map of Africa and placed jade stones on each of the four corners. He looked at the map and pointed his finger at the center of the country of Mali. His dark eyes looked up at me as he said, "Remember, antic.i.p.ate the difficult by managing the easy. According to Sun Tzu, there are five factors to consider when taking the field and you never go into the field unprepared. We will review all of these factors."

Mr. Parks pulled out a dog-tag necklace from his pocket. He set it on the map. The beaded metal chain pooled over the rectangles. I couldn't see whose name was on it.

"And medicines. Remember that medicines in other countries are not the same as those we use in America. That is why our goal is to not need them or, if you do, to have your own EpiPen and Benadryl on hand. The EpiPen can jam so be sure to have more than one with you."

"I hear you and I understand that I am responsible for my personal safety. I promise you I will be fully aware of my environment, including food and drink. Always." I never wanted to have another anaphylactic reaction. It had been a painful lesson to learn. It did not need to be taught again.

Mr. Parks slid the necklace across the map and toward me and I picked it up. It had a phone number and a red cross stamped onto it. The words "nut allergy" were etched across the bottom in military block letters. Dr. West explained while I looked it over. "The number connects to a member of Sunrise. Hopefully, no one will dial it as that will mean you are in trouble. The red cross is to show you are on a humanitarian mission and will help identify your macadamia nut allergy. The medical alert bracelet Reid gave you is not practical here."

Mr. Parks met my eyes as I looked toward the map. "You are field commander on this trip and responsible for the safety of your entire team. Remember, be a chief, not a lord." He was reminding me that a leader has all the responsibility and accepts none of the glory. It was the most difficult position on the team because I would have to make the tough decisions to keep our team together, accomplish our goal, and get us home. Mr. Parks cleared his throat as if there was something else he wanted me to know. I slipped into his mind and he was thinking about the time he told me at the heart of every crane is a phoenix. I gave a small nod so that he knew I got the message loud and clear.

Dr. West rolled down my sleeve. I was done with the round of injections but found I could not sigh with relief. The pressure of being field commander meant I would need to know how to turn every adversity into advantage. I leaned over the map to study it, already thinking Blair would need to commit this to memory. Mr. Parks smiled as I remembered him telling me there was no day off for me anymore. I had refocused and was ready to lead.

Chapter Seven: Targets.

My eyes glanced around the airplane cabin and I saw Reid asleep and reclined in his seat next to me. Diana walked up and put her hand on Reid's seat. I closed my third eye and met her sparkling blue eyes. She smiled and motioned for me to follow her.

I undid the metal buckle of my seat belt, silently got up, and followed Diana to the back of the plane. She took the window seat and looked up at me, waiting for me to sit down next to her.

"Do you always wake up before landing?" Diana looked like she was genuinely interested in hearing my answer and she was impressively adept at creating a feeling of closeness. Body language was a tool of empaths and she was a master.

"Usually." I smiled and thought about Reid's warning on the boat. He said Diana was cunning and would want to extract as much information from me as possible. I had thought he had meant in only her ability to sense emotions through objects until I looked around at the unexpected trap I found myself. The tan leather plane seat was hardly a cage, but I was stuck here for the moment since I was not interested in socially alienating Reid's aunt. His father's obvious dislike of me was bad enough.

"It's so interesting to me that you can wake up without a watch. I wish I could do that-I'm always running late, even with six different alarms." Diana looked at her black digital watch. It was a man's Timex with a variety of b.u.t.tons on the side.

"It is not something I work hard to accomplish. I wake up early and that is all." I gave a small shrug and a smile. Mr. Parks taught me to smile at my opponent. It was the best way to hide intent, as most people did not recognize niceness was a social strategy and not a character trait.

Diana pounced and asked, "Can you also sense day from night? In any time zone?" Chills ran down my arms and I heeded my defensive warning system. It was better not to tell her that I could feel the breaking of a new day. Her personal desire to sense time was strong. I did not know why she wanted this trait but she seemed desperate to have it.

I laughed. "I am not a human clock, Diana. I have no idea what time it says on your watch at this moment. I am merely awake so I can get organized. You know, brush my teeth and splash water on my face and maybe read some of my Vogue before we land in the third world."

Diana laughed, as if she was relieved to discover what she said was preposterous. She readily accepted it was too good to be true and my peripheral vision noted the way she continued to readjust her watch on her arm. Her watch was like a security blanket, and to someone who depended on her watch, I could never explain that wearing a timepiece made it hard for me to breathe. To have absolute timing, I had to disregard man-made time to follow natural time. It was the only way to remain nimble in my decisions.

"You must pay attention to watches and clocks..." she said, confirming my suspicion that she did not quite grasp that timing and time were not necessarily the same thing.

"When relevant, yes. I can't be late for my cla.s.ses or expect a bus to run on my time and to disregard everyone else. That would be ridiculous." I rolled my eyes as if she was asking the obvious. I refrained from saying that time served me because I was not a slave to time. Clock time was a burden and an artificial parameter. I only socially adhered to it and at my own will.

Diana looked at me as if she was starting to comprehend that time had no hold on me. She continued to absentmindedly adjust and readjust her watch. It was clear she could not say the same about herself. I thought she might be crazy as well as everything else Reid warned me about and decided it was time to leave.

"Well, thanks for the chat. I'd better get ready to land," I said as I started to move forward in my seat. Diana put her hand on my arm and there was a sensation of lightness in the s.p.a.ce between us that was not there before. The pressure was from the content of the conversation and the fact that Diana had stopped trying to break into my mind.

"Wait. Please. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Whitney. You can see I am rusty at using language to get answers. I know by your strong defenses you are aware I am an empath like my nephew. You are superbly trained as you have now put me in the position of asking to allow me to explain myself. May I go on?" Her face flushed, embarra.s.sed. She was Reid's aunt, I reminded myself. I kept my third eye closed but sat back in my seat. She smiled slightly in grat.i.tude.

"Your level of defense is quite remarkable. My nephew warned me not to try it but I had to see for myself. He is so protective of you that I thought he was overreacting. I'm afraid I may have done more harm than good and that was not my intention. As an amba.s.sador of the Cloccan people as well as a member of Sunrise, I needed to be absolutely certain the information I would pa.s.s to you could not be stolen."

"Cloccan people?" I repeated because I honestly was not sure I had heard her correctly. Diana looked one hundred percent American to me and she did not have a foreign accent or any indicator she was from another country. She narrowed her eyes at me, dubious I had never heard the term. I looked blankly back at her and tried to ignore the warning chills that cascaded down my arms.

She acquiesced when I did not falter under the weight of her stare. "I am surprised Ellen never told you anything at all. But then again, you were so young. Cloccan is the ancient name of the empath tribe and it is what we call ourselves. I can see by your face that Ellen never used the word. I'm surprised because she was so proud of her Cloccan heritage and a superior empath guide. Her precision at sorting and buffering emotion was astounding. I am sure you miss her terribly. "

Diana thought I simply did not know the ancient name of the tribe but that was not all I did not know. I had never known my mother was an empath. I took one slow blink to try to reset my thoughts but it was too late. The premonition of my mother walking through the elegant London hotel flashed like a thundering train through my mind. The drape of her beige trench coat was reflected in the polished elevator doors and her footsteps tapped quick and certain as she moved across the marble floor in her black heels. I could not see her face, only layers of her blonde hair as she looked down at her diamond-encrusted watch. The hour hand showed three minutes until two o'clock. In three minutes, she would arrive at her meeting in the Savoy dining room and then I would never see her again. If what Diana said was true, and my mother was an empath, she should have known something was amiss.