Chapter 17

Harmonies are a gift, to be treasured and protected. These rare pairs—often, but not always twins—hold within them the gift of life itself. No Harmony pair is to ever be harmed. In harming them, we would be harming the shining heart of us.

—Aleya, Psy philosopher (circa 1571)

Twenty-Two Years Ago

THEO WALKED OUT of the family house even though she wanted to run. Her grandfather and parents had made the rules very clear: there was to be no running inside the house.

“Any infractions will result in the loss of privileges.”

That was what her mother had said. Theo hadn’t understood what the second word meant, so she’d remembered it and asked her and Pax’s tutor. So now she knew it meant breaking the rules. She’d told Pax, too, even though he didn’t get punished like her. Her twin had told her to follow the rules, so they wouldn’t lose their time outside—the time when they were supposed to exercise in the way that they’d been taught, but that they used to play.

Mostly no one checked on them during that time, since they were inside the grounds of their grandfather’s big estate. They played hide-and-seek, or climbed trees, or played games that they came up with together.

I don’t know why they punish you, Pax had said to her, mind-to-mind. We do the same things.

Theo might’ve only been five, but she knew the answer. It’s because you have lots of psychic power. I heard Mother say that you might be an 8 or a 9 and she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t strong, too. Her mother’s disappointment made her sad. I keep on trying to be stronger so that when we do the tests, we’ll be the same, but I can’t make my mind bigger.

But I like you just how you are, Theo! You’re the smartest at equations and you always teach me!

Theo wanted to smile at the thought of what Pax had said to her. She knew he liked her. She could feel it inside her in a way she could feel no one else; Pax would never punish her or treat her bad just because she wasn’t an 8 or a 9. And she knew he didn’t go out and play by himself when she got punished and had to stay inside; he just did the exercises on the lawn outside, then came back inside.

So that we’re both punished when you’re punished, he’d said to her. It’s fair.

Finally, she was out on the big deck with cold stone tiles and could see Pax sitting and waiting for her at the bottom of the wide steps that ended at the bright sunshiny green of the lawn.

Pax! She called out with her mind because she knew better than to call out using her voice. If anyone heard her, she’d be in trouble for not adhering to the “principles of Silence.”

He turned around, waved, but didn’t smile. They already knew not to smile except for when they were alone. Getting up, he dusted off his shorts. They were the same light brown as hers, and they also wore identical white T-shirts. “You chose the same clothes!”

She heard his laughter in her mind. Again!

She laughed inside, too, because they were always choosing the same clothes. Or if they didn’t have the same things, they chose things that were almost the same. Shall we pretend to do the exercises now?

That was what they did every single time—just spend enough time on the lawn that people thought they were behaving. She couldn’t always tell if someone was watching from the windows, but Pax could. His mind was so strong and he already understood lots about how to use it.

Yes. Grandfather is watching.

Her heart got quiet and her skin became cold. She didn’t speak as they walked down the stairs and out onto the lawn to begin their stretches. She knew Grandfather was disappointed in her. He’d told her so.

“What a waste of excellent genetic material and intelligence if your Gradient rating tests come back as low as we believe they will,” he’d said while going over her most recent educational report. “A true disappointment to the family.”

He’s gone.

She gave a long huff of breath at Pax’s telepathic words. “I thought he’d never go!” But now that he had, she knew they were free. Grandfather only ever watched for a short time and he never came back. He had too much important business to do.

“Me, too!” Pax also huffed out a breath, because even though Grandfather wasn’t disappointed in him, Pax thought he was too strict, too. He could feel how Theo’s heart got all small when Grandfather called them both into his office and told Theo everything that was wrong with her.

Pax always tried to tell Grandfather that she was trying her best, but Theo was going to ask him to stop. Grandfather didn’t like it, and she didn’t want Pax in trouble. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s run to the trees before anyone else comes.” If they weren’t on the lawn, no one usually looked for them and if they did, Pax gave her enough warning that they could pretend they were just taking a nature walk. That was allowed, since it was a school activity.

The two of them began to run, Pax reaching back as if he’d take her hand.

No, Pax, she reminded him. Not yet. They weren’t allowed to touch. It wasn’t permitted under Silence.

Oh, I forgot. He dropped his hand, but he ran a little slower, so she could keep up.

Because he was turning back to check on her, she saw the bird before he did. Look! She stopped running.

He did, too, and they both went over to where a blackbird lay on the ground, its wings fluttering. “It’s hurt,” he said, going down on his knees on one side.

She sat down beside him on her knees, too. Tears burned in her eyes, even though she tried to make them go away. Grandfather would punish her a lot if he thought she’d cried. “I don’t want it to die.”

Her brother touched the top of the bird’s head with a soft finger. “I think it hurt its head, Theo.” He couldn’t say her name properly still, so it sounded like “Tio.” Grandfather didn’t like that he had a “speech impediment,” and Pax had to go to special lessons with a special teacher to practice talking, but Theo didn’t see why it mattered.

She reached out to carefully pet the bird. “I think it’s scared,” she said just before her finger touched the silky black feather.

Her mind . . . opened. It was so clear.

Pax didn’t stop her when she walked along the silver path that she knew he’d built. It was so strong, so bright. Just like her brother. Pax was shiny and bright inside and so was everything he built in the psychic world.

When she looked down at her hands in the black space lit up by his silver road, they glittered all silvery sunshiny. Smiling, she walked to the end of the road until she was in a room where things were broken and in the wrong place. It was a mess.

She began to put everything back where it should be, like how she sometimes filed things in her father, Miles’s, study. He wasn’t as disappointed in her as the rest of the family. She didn’t know why, when he was an 8, but she was happy about it. When she needed to hide from Grandfather, she sometimes knocked on his office door and asked if he wanted her to tidy his bookshelves.

He always said yes unless he was going to have a meeting.

And his bookshelves were always messy. Even though she couldn’t read as well as a grown-up, she could read enough to work out the words on even his big books, and the ones she didn’t understand—like “astrophysics” or “cosmology”—she looked up on her study tablet. So she could file her father’s books and other papers pretty good. The ones she really, really didn’t understand, she put in a pile to ask him about when he was free.

But here, in this room where everything was tumbled and broken, she didn’t need his help. She knew. The ones that were only a little out of place were easy to put back, but the broken pieces wouldn’t fit so she had to sit down and fix them before she could put them back. It wasn’t hard, but it took time and lots of energy.

Pax gave her his energy. You’re so clever, Theo, he said, and she realized he was in the room, too, but he was just sitting in the corner, watching her. I don’t know how you fixed that.

You built the road, she told her brother. I don’t know how to do that. Thank you for giving me your power.

He smiled and she felt it inside her mind.

They stayed in that room until she’d fixed and shelved every broken and confused piece. Then she turned and walked back down the road, and though Pax wasn’t with her, she knew he’d be there when she opened her eyes. He had to close the door behind her and erase the road.

She opened her eyes before he did.

The bird hopped up as soon as Pax opened his eyes. It fluttered its wings, squawked . . . and then spread those wings and flew away so fast that Theo almost felt a wing hit her face. She laughed. “We did it, Pax! We did it!”

Her brother grinned at her . . . and then the world went blank, both their bodies and minds shutting down without warning.