A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark)

outside my window and lightning flashed silently across the clouds. I knew, somehow, that my fear was causing the storm. I didn’t know how to calm myself down, to shut off my mind—or my powers. They all just blended together. The turmoil of being me.
     
    When the sky was light enough to count as morning, I turned from the window to the door. The rocking chair was empty. Asher was gone.
    As quietly as possible, I got out of bed and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. There were voices coming from below, and I held my breath so I could hear them.
    “. . . have to leave here.” Asher’s voice was low and insistent. “What if she told them? It’s not safe.”
    “But where do we go? We can’t take her back to the Rebel camp. She’ll destroy it; she’s too wild. Uncontrollable.”
    “You saw her with the icicles. She’s learning. . . .”
    “No, it’s too risky. But if we take her home—”
    “There are Guardians everywhere,” Asher said darkly. “It’s not safe anyplace.”
    I couldn’t believe they were talking about what to do with me, like I was just some doll they could pack up in a suitcase and carry away. Like I had no say in the matter. I thought we were done with all that. But it looked like I was wrong.
    If I was really as powerful as they said, then it was time I took control of my own destiny once and for all. I pounded down the stairs. Asher and Ardith looked up, startled.
    “I’m feeling better,” I said loudly. “I’m ready to go home now.”
    They shared an uneasy glance.
    “We were just talking about that,” said Asher.
    “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I need to see Aunt Jo. I need to find out what happened to Cassie. I need to finish school and get into college.” I was getting more worked up by the second. The cabin was growing warmer. Asher glanced around nervously. “I can’t stop living my life just because of who my parents were. Because of what they were. I can’t just abandon everything I love and everything that makes me me. ”
    “It’s not just your parents,” he said to me, passion building in his voice. “This is who you are, too.”
    “But I don’t—”
    “Your powers are a gift. You’ve been given greatness. You’ll see. Once you learn to control it—and you are learning—”
    “I didn’t ask for this!” I yelled before I could stop myself.
    “No one ever does.” Ardith’s voice cut across the room like glass. We both turned to look at her. “You can’t abandon the life you’ve always known, Skye, we know. But you can’t abandon the life you’ve been given, either. It’s not the powers you were born with that will define you. It’s what you make of them. That’s what everyone’s waiting to see.”
    My powers. Everyone said I had the potential to be more powerful than any Rebel or any Guardian. They all wanted to see just what I was capable of. But I just wanted to be me. I just wanted to be happy. What was so great about what I could do? As far as I could tell, my powers were impossible to control.
    I looked down at my hands, cupping them in front of me like I was holding water from a river.
    Okay, powers, I thought. Do your thing.
    Nothing happened. I closed my eyes, and tried to remember what Asher had told me back in my room in Colorado.
    “Just pretend that everything inside you is lots of unfiltered electricity. Imagine what you want to do with it. And then imagine flipping a switch—and turning it on.”
    He paused, and I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were searching mine, impossibly deep. I had to control myself. “The Gifted,” he said, “start small. They focus on nuances. A whisper of a breath. A hair out of place. They manipulate each and every small thing on this earth. And every little thing has an effect on something else. Just think of what a big change can do: it could sway the path of someone’s life, the outcome of battles, the course of history.”
    I swallowed, hard, mesmerized by the look in his eyes.
    “It’s our job, as the Rebellion, to stop them from controlling what they have no right to control. You could help us do that.”
    I tried to stop the energy roiling inside of me like storm clouds. My wild, impossible-to-control feelings for Asher. My anger at the Rebellion for wanting too much from me, and at the Order for trying to control me. My fury at Devin for betraying me, and frustration at my friends