The Intuitives(62)

“We could ask,” Sam suggested.

“No.” Mac was already shaking her head. “Trust me. That would only make things worse. They’ll just get mad—maybe even scrap the program if they think we’re figuring things out. Whatever we do, we can’t look too curious about any of it, and we can’t let them know what little we know. Anything we manage to work out about what we’re really up to, we have to keep to ourselves. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Rush growled. “I’m going to that invitational no matter what, and nobody’s going to screw it up for me. You guys hear me? Don’t ask questions. Don’t let on you know anything’s up. Don’t make them mad. Everybody got it?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said.

“Roger that,” Mackenzie answered.

“OK,” Kaitlyn agreed.

“Sure thing, Rush,” Sketch chimed in.

Sam was the only one who didn’t reply. When Rush turned to stare at her, she finally nodded her consent, but she still didn’t look happy about it.





32


Lies



The next morning, from the moment Daniel walked into the strange, white room, he could tell something was wrong. Ammu had not appeared at breakfast, which was unusual in itself, and now he was waiting for them alone, down in the stark, empty space. Even the runes had been washed away.

He smiled when they arrived, but there was something darker in his eyes that made Daniel shudder. The strains of “The Fear” by Ben Howard started playing in his mind, and an icy chill raced along his spine.

Daniel grabbed Kaitlyn’s hand, his eyes locking onto hers in silent warning: Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this. But the smile she gave him in return was vague, distant, and not at all reassuring.

“Good morning, children,” Ammu began, and Sam looked up sharply. He had not called them ‘children’ since the day she had taken offense to it, and he caught her gaze now, staring at her intently.

“Given yesterday’s complete lack of results,” he continued. Sam frowned, about to protest, but Ammu’s eyes were still locked onto her own, as though silently willing her to understand some private message, intended just for her.

And then she had it. He knew she would challenge such an openly false statement, and he was begging her not to.

She nodded, just barely moving her head, but it was enough. His eyes softened, and Sam felt an overpowering urge to look over her shoulder at the one-way mirror. She resisted it, however, keeping her eyes steadily on the Egyptian, refusing to give anything away to whoever sat behind the glass, watching them.

“I think it best that we start over from the beginning,” he finished. “Kaitlyn? Would you like to see the image again?”

“Yes, please,” she replied. Ammu pulled the book out of his satchel, opening it to the gryphon page and handing her the chalk.

“Remember,” he said, “the exercise is intended to improve the connection between the conscious and the unconscious mind. Nothing more. Think of it as calisthenics for the intellect—a kind of mental conditioning, if you will—and try to be as open as you can to your own individual pathways throughout the endeavor.”

Now Daniel heard the chorus of “You Lie” by The Band Perry, the upbeat rhythm making him want to tap his foot despite the song’s implications. If Daniel’s time with Ammu had taught him anything, it was to seek any clue he could in the music that came to him. The song implied that Ammu was lying, but its tone was telling him not to be frightened, only cautious.

At least, he hoped that’s what it was telling him.

“When you are ready, you may proceed,” Ammu said.

Kaitlyn drew a rough circle on the floor, and Sam sat in the center, crossing her legs and resting her arms lightly on her knees. Mackenzie found their starting position, and they looked up for Sam’s count.

“One… two… one, two, three, four.”

Kaitlyn traced out the first rune, Mackenzie moved into her ritual cleansing, and Daniel started to hum. They did everything the same way they had before, but this morning, nothing happened. The timing wasn’t any different, and they all moved in unison—Sam knew that much for certain—but still, something felt… off.

Kaitlyn had understood Daniel’s concern from the moment he had touched her hand—even as she drew the blue loops and whorls on the floor, she found herself focusing more on his voice than on her own task. His perfect tenor held the same clarity it always did, lending an ethereal beauty to the strange melody, but today every note left her feeling uneasy. Whatever they were doing in this peculiar, underground room, Kaitlyn hoped it wouldn’t work this time.

As for Daniel, he was enduring the greatest musical challenge of his life. Songs about fear and lies chased each other through his head even as he hummed the ancient melody out loud. The symphony that resulted from the blending of real and imagined music at once was so discordant as to make him almost feel ill, but he soldiered on as best he could, hoping the song would sound the same as it did yesterday to everyone else.

If Mackenzie noticed anything odd in her teammates, she didn’t show it. Her own movements were smooth and flowing, as graceful as ever. But after they had completed four entire circuits of the circle, Ammu finally sighed and called a halt to the exercise.

“Thank you, everyone. That was excellent,” Ammu said, clapping his hands to interrupt them. “You have done exactly as I asked, and I am proud of you all.”