Whisper (Whisper #1)(65)

I narrow my eyes. “Testing?”

Kael’s expression is hard, like he’s repulsed, horrified and enraged all at once. “They were his lab rats. Whatever you can imagine he might have done to them, it was worse. Dead or alive, the tests were —”

He doesn’t finish. It’s almost like he can’t finish.

He swallows and simply says, “Only a few remained alive, but by that stage, they would have been wishing for death.”

My overactive imagination fills in the gaps of everything Kael refuses to share, as I vividly picture the horrors that occurred within Vanik’s laboratory.

“Jeremiah and Falon were horrified when Vanik tried to explain himself and his desire to share the ‘gift’ of Speaking with the world. Stem cell cloning, he said. That was how he was going to make it happen. But he didn’t know enough about where the genetic anomaly was rooted in the DNA of Speakers, so he had to experiment with different … tissue samples … until he figured it out. It was all in the name of the greater good, he claimed. In his delusional mind, he considered himself a hero of the people. The Speakers’ savior. He was going to bring them freedom.”

I’m shaking my head, appalled, yet morbidly engrossed in the tale. “What did Jeremiah do?”

“He did the only thing he could,” Kael answers, his tone almost regretful.

My eyes widen. “He tried to kill him?”

Kael jerks back in shock. “Of course not.”

“It would have been better if he had!” Sneak cries, managing to get the words out around Dante’s hand, which is still clamped over his mouth. “And then he should have done us all a favor and killed himself, too!”

I don’t understand Sneak’s vehemence against Jeremiah, when clearly Vanik is the villain of the story.

“Shut it, kid,” Dante says, giving Sneak a warning shake. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The look on Kael’s face arrests me, since it’s like he’s been physically struck. But he rallies and continues with his story.

“Caught up in the trauma of what he was seeing, Jeremiah tried to Speak too many things at once, and he lost control,” Kael says.

I dig into my palms to stave off my own similar memories.

“He tried to save them all — Speakers and guards alike. But instead of healing them, somehow he managed to heal Vanik, curing him of his insanity. However, in doing so, Jeremiah also took away Vanik’s Speaking ability.”

I gasp, not realizing such a thing was possible.

“It’s true,” Kael says. “Vanik hasn’t been able to read anyone for ten years.”

I can’t believe it. I’ve never once considered that I might be able to get rid of my Speaking ability. I wonder —

“I can imagine what you’re thinking, princess, but don’t bother. Speakers can’t use their power on themselves. At least, not in that way.”

Cami already told me that. But, oh, how I wish it weren’t true. Because other than saving Abby that one time, nothing else about my ability seems worth it.

“What happened next?” I ask, glossing over Kael correctly guessing my thoughts.

“Knowing something had gone wrong with his intent, Jeremiah — with Falon — tried everything possible to save the victims,” Kael says. “But Lengard’s only Speaker with healing abilities was lying unconscious on one of the lab benches, and Jeremiah refused to use his Creator ability again in case he caused more damage. Vanik, back in his right mind, was calling out instructions but also saying it was better to put them out of their misery, and Jeremiah believed him. Before he was willing to admit defeat, however, he tried for one last-ditch miracle, asking for assistance from the healer’s young daughter.”

My entire body stills at the mention of a child. And then the air rushes out of me with Kael’s next words.

“A girl you know as Camelot Ward.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


“Sometimes Speaker-born children manifest the same ability as one of their parents,” Kael tells me while I struggle to regulate my breathing, “so Jeremiah hoped Cami had inherited her mother’s healing affinity. But at only eight years of age, Cami hadn’t yet awakened her Speaking gift, and all she could do was watch from Falon’s arms as the life drained out of her parents. All the while, Vanik stood over their bodies, remorseless, cold and analytical until the end as he helped expedite their deaths. To that little girl, he was the stuff of nightmares, and in one swift moment, he effectively ruined her life.”

I now understand my friend’s hatred toward Vanik, and my heart breaks for what she went through.

“Jeremiah begged for her silence, but Cami ran from the laboratory, screaming at the top of her lungs. The news spread throughout Lengard, but it also became twisted, until everyone believed that Jeremiah, their benevolent leader, had sanctioned the experiments and allowed a well-known madman to carry them out. Not only that, Jeremiah hadn’t used his all-powerful Creator ability to save the victims. Instead, he helped kill them.”

I’m seeing now how Keeda, Crew and Sneak might consider Jeremiah a power-obsessed psychopath. Their reactions to the mere memory of a Creator are beginning to make sense.

“Jeremiah didn’t defend against the accusations thrown at him. In his mind, he was guilty. As leader of the Speakers, he was responsible for Vanik. That meant Vanik’s actions and the resulting deaths were Jeremiah’s burden to bear. He also failed to regain control of his Creator ability, which meant he couldn’t protect his people anymore.”