Page 83 of Avidian
“I’m going to ask my aunt about what Jamie said. Get ready, and I’ll bring the truck around. We need to go back to the Depths.”
He’s out the door, the cold air rushing in behind him.
I rush to the bedroom and grab a pair of black pants and a long-sleeve shirt, quickly pulling them on before reaching for my jacket. I see Carmen’s journal on the bed and shove it into my jacket pocket, zipping it up.
My hands move quickly as I lace up my boots, my heart racing in anticipation. By the time I tug my ponytail tight and check my reflection in the small mirror by the door, I hear the low rumble of the truck pulling up outside.
That was fast.
Grabbing my gloves, I throw them on as I head out into the biting cold, the truck’s headlights cutting through the night. Malachi is already in the driver’s seat, his hand drumming impatiently on the wheel. He looks over as I climb into the cab, his expression unreadable.
“What did Irina say? Does she know what Jamie meant?” I ask as Malachi floors it down the driveway, the tires kicking up snow behind us.
“She does,” he says tersely, “and you’re not going to like the answer.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
RULE 25 OF THE NEW ORDER: NEVER ASSUME THE ENEMY ISN’T ALREADY TWO STEPS AHEAD—IT’S WHEN YOU’RE COCKY THAT THEY STRIKE.
“When wereyou going to fill me in on all of this?” I ask as I take in the room around me.
We’ve entered a part of the Depths I’ve never seen before, and it feels like I’ve stepped into another world all over again. The space is massive, easily the size of an aircraft hangar, segmented into nine distinct quadrants, each one seemingly designed for a specific purpose.
At least twenty people are spread throughout the lab, some working in small clusters, others practicing their gifts in isolation. The air hums with raw energy, a subtle charge that seems to sink into my skin and make my hair stand on end.
The first quadrant catches my attention immediately. Padded walls line the area, the kind you’d see in a gymnastics center but reinforced with something thicker, almost metallic. A young woman stands in the middle of the room, her hands glowing faintly as she conjures an orb of fire, spinning it rapidly before hurling it at a target on the far wall. The flames erupt on impact, but the walls absorb the blast like it’s nothing. Shesmiles as an older man claps her on the back and points out adjustments to her form.
Aurora would love this.
The next section is enclosed in what looks like unbreakable glass, the kind that shimmers faintly under the fluorescent lights. Inside, two Avids are sparring—one wielding crackling bolts of electricity, the other forming shimmering shields of translucent energy to block the strikes. Their movements are fast, fluid, and terrifyingly precise, the clash of power echoing faintly through the glass barrier. These are all useful fucking powers.
These Avids are ready for battle, and I’m over here seeing ghosts.
Another area has rows of tables covered in vials of swirling, vibrant liquids—Avidian. Several people are seated, sipping from small doses of it while others monitor them, taking notes on tablets. Actually, I have no idea who is an Avid and who isn’t, because everyone in here could be using Avidian.
A boy with silver streaks in his hair suddenly stands, his eyes wide as he looks down at his hand. He flexes his fingers, and a dense, golden mist forms around him, coiling and swirling like a living thing.
The quadrants are equipped for everything. One is filled with strange obstacles—walls to climb, spinning blades, and other death-trap-like mechanisms meant to hone reflexes and agility. Another features tanks of water where a woman submerges herself completely, holding her breath far longer than any human could as her skin seems to glisten like a fish’s scales.
Near the back, a group gathers around what looks like a makeshift shooting range, only instead of weapons, they’re using their gifts. A man with green eyes hurls jagged shards of ice at moving targets, each one hitting dead center.
“You’re awake! How are you feeling? That was a trip the other day.” Bash’s voice pulls me from my trance. He’s striding toward me, looking sheepish but animated.
“I’m good. Don’t worry about me,” I say, though my focus remains on the room. “Want to explain what’s going on here since Malachi seems…distracted?” I gesture toward Malachi, who stands a few steps away, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on something in the distance like he’s deep in thought.
Bash grins, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Welcome to our little experimental playground. This is where we push boundaries, test limits, and make sure Avids have the tools to survive out there. Each quadrant is designed to train or experiment with different abilities. And we’re fine-tuning the effects of Avidian. Both for them and us.”
“Us?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“For Avids,” Bash clarifies. “If a dose works, it grants temporary access to that specific gift. Avids can practice harnessing other abilities this way, and non-Avids—well, it levels the playing field when necessary.” He gestures to the boy with the golden mist, who now seems to be summoning it into a shape—a weapon.
“Levels the playing field? Or creates a new kind of weapon?”
Bash hesitates, crinkling his nose and rubbing at his chin. “Depends on how you look at it, but what you’re seeing here is controlled. Everyone in this room has agreed to be part of the experiments, and it’s helping them. Look around—these Avids are getting stronger, more precise.”
I take it all in, my skin prickling with unease and fascination. I glance back at Malachi, who continues to watch a group in one of the sparring quadrants.
“Bash, can you give us a minute?”
