City Without Heroes Complete Duology Box Set: City Without Heroes

City Without Heroes

City Without Heroes, Volume 1

Tanya Lisle

Published by Scrap Paper Entertainment, 2017.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

CITY WITHOUT HEROES

First edition. October 25, 2017.

Copyright © 2017 Tanya Lisle.

ISBN: 978-1988911052

Written by Tanya Lisle.

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

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About the Author

Chapter 1

Moving in

At her last school , Indira had heard every hopeful and melodramatic monologue possible about moving to a new city. As the new kid, they hated it there and it would be a great opportunity to start over. No one knew them, which was wonderful and terrible. They both could and could not stand the eyes that followed them down the halls. This was nothing and exactly like the place they’d just come from. This was their chance to be the hero or villain they had always dreamed of.

Well, that last one wasn’t going to happen. Not in Whitten. Certainly not with Indira.

For her part, Indira was approaching this move with hopeful optimism. A month before, her father had been kidnapped to replicate his robotics research by one of the many villains in the city of Vancouver. Before that, her school had been taken hostage, though her mother had kept her and her brother home that day. Over the years, she had lost friends and classmates to property damage, falling in with the wrong crowd, ambition, and generally trying to make it in a world of heroes and villains without enough experience. Moving to a new city that promised none of these things would ever happen again was a proposition none of them fought. Eleventh grade wasn’t the best time for her to be switching to a new school, but she could deal with it.

The downside was that her mother decided that their new house needed a fresh coat of paint. Though the walls were not in terrible shape, Whitten’s nickname of The Speckled City appeared to be more than just a name. Embedded into their walls were black balls of something that their mother would simply not tolerate looking at. While their father was at work, the rest of the family had been drafted into removing as many of them from the walls as possible and painting over the ones that would not come out. As irritating as it was for Indira to pry the pebble-sized black spheres from the walls with a butterknife, her uncle was having a much worse time with patching and painting.

Ness! How many times do I have to tell you, none of that here!

Indira glanced over to see the paint roller coating the wall in a fresh coat of yellow all on its own. Uncle Ness was on his phone, though the frown on his face swiftly changed into a smile as he looked up at his sister with those innocent grey eyes that most of their family bore. No one is going to know, Ava, he told her. You think they’re watching you? Looking for a reason to kick you out?

Indira, knowing that they had forgotten she was there, popped another of the black specks out of the wall. It fell into the bowl with a heavy thud with the others.

"We moved here for a reason, her mother said, storming across the living room and snatching the floating paint roller from the wall. She shoved it back into her brother’s hands. No powers. You can paint the old fashioned way."

Get sore the old fashioned way, Uncle Ness muttered. They only outlawed heroes, not finding a better way to paint!

You can use the exercise.

"I get plenty of exercise." He looked conspiratorially over at Indira and winked, a grin on his face as he shook his head and went back to painting. Indira could see that, while he might have his hand on the handle, his hand was not what was moving it across the wall.

You’re always so lazy, her mother complained, though she didn’t try to stop him this time. You rely on them too much.

Well, if you got them...

Her mother started to say something, but it caught in her throat. Indira glanced over to see her brow furrow, head shaking ever so slightly. Her voice came out dark and quiet. You shouldn’t use any of them inside this city. They’ll make you disappear when you do.

Uncle Ness blinked, looking back over to her. Indira abandoned even pretending to do her job, keeping a careful eye on her mother. Her foresight was limited to brief glimpses, difficult to control and came to her at random moments. Her mother knew this full well, however, and would often say things that sounded like a premonition that were actually meant to get them back to work. It was nearly impossible to tell foresight from her screwing with them at this point, though sometimes they could catch the slightest shift in those grey eyes to tell them she was serious.

You’re just saying that, right? he asked.

Just paint, Ness.

Ava, what-

Paint.

Indira caught the glimmer of a grin on her mother’s face and relaxed. If she wasn’t worried about it, then Indira didn’t need to be.

Indira tuned out Uncle Ness as he continued to complain about painting the old way, scanning the wall for any more signs of black specks. She knew it was only a matter of time now before he tried to bring her into this and she knew better than to be here when he did. The wall appeared to be mostly clear except for the few that were embedded so deeply that it would leave a substantial hole in the drywall if she tried to pry them out.

Satisfied, she stepped down from the chair and dropped the bowl on the kitchen counter. She could feel her uncle’s eyes on her, ready to draw her into his pleas, but her mother was quicker.

Where are you going? her mother asked, not looking away from her uncle.

To help Raz, Indira said, already heading toward the stairs. Make sure he isn’t putting holes in the wall.

You’re going to leave me alone with her? Uncle Ness demanded, but Indira was already rushing up the stairs, letting her long braid hit her back with every step. The betrayal in his words was undermined by the laughter in his voice, and was followed by the sound of a light smack to his arm.

Her brother was nowhere in sight at the top of the stairs or in the hallway he was meant to be painting, but neither was any sign of those little black specks. In their place were little patches of wet paint, and the faint sound of his voice coming from the bathroom at the end of the hall. Indira took a cursory look at the walls, deciding that their mother would be content with the job before going to see what was going on.

Shiraz? she asked. She knocked on the door and he fell silent. Everything good in there?

Nah, it’s just Indi, he said as he opened the door. The fourteen year old looked back at her, his grey eyes disapproving as he shook his head. She could see the headphones in his ears and phone in his other hand. What do you want?

Rude. Indira was smiling as she said it, stepping back from the door. Just seeing if you need help.

Shiraz leaned out the door to hear the commotion happening downstairs. No, he told her, stepping back inside. Through the door, she could see he had another bowl of small black specks that was quickly filling and several bits of the bathroom had been filled. He sat down on the floor with another butterknife, prying another speck out of the wall and dropping it into the bowl. Nah, it’s nothing, he said, continuing with the conversation as if she wasn’t there. I haven’t even been out of this house yet. It’s taking ages to get these things out of the walls, and mom’s insisting we get them all.

He pushed the door closed and Indira left him, heading to her own room. Boxes of her things were piled up in one corner, with her bed covered in plastic and a can of paint in the corner. The plaster from this morning had dried and she could paint over those patches that now littered her walls, but she let out a sigh and fell back on the bed.

Shiraz was right. Neither of them had left the house since they moved in. She needed to get out of here.

Oh, come on, she heard Shiraz complain loudly from the bathroom, followed by a clattering of the butterknife on the tile floor. It sounded like he needed to get out too. They knew none of the city outside this house and the black speckled walls. They were starting school tomorrow and didn’t even know where the building was. At the very least, they could use a break from the paint fumes inside the house.

Indira lay there for a moment longer before she finally got back onto her feet. She grabbed a sweater and her purse off the top of the pile of boxes, checking her phone. She frowned at the lack of missed calls or messages, but let it slide. Her friends likely had other matters to attend to today and she had other things to do right now.

She went to the bathroom door and gave it one hard knock. Raz! Get your stuff. We’re getting out of here.

Shiraz opened the door, looking at her like she’d gone crazy. His headphones were no longer plugged in, though still hung out one ear. What makes you think mom is going to let us go anywhere until we finished cleaning this whole house? We’re not bringing mom with us, are we?

No, Indira said, nodding to the continued bickering coming from downstairs. We’re taking someone off her hands. Come on.

As Indira led the way downstairs, she let her thoughts travel ahead of her. Hey, Uncle Ness? Can you convince Mom to let us get out of here for a bit?

Doubt it, he said. Your mother isn’t going to be happy you’re using telepathy in the house.

If you have it, right?

You have two children to do this work for you, Uncle Ness said as soon as they rounded the corner. I said I’d help you get settled in, not paint your house! Is this the thanks I get for helping you?

If you don’t want to help, you can leave. Don’t you have clients who are waiting for you?

Paul’s got them, he said. I’m just trying to help, Ava. In the most efficient way possible.

"Your help is illegal here, she snapped at him. Letting out an irritated breath, she turned on her children. Indira, did you finish upstairs already?"

I was thinking that Raz and I should go see where the school was. We start tomorrow, so we should probably figure out where it is, right?

Her mother stared them both down, though neither Indira nor Shiraz balked at her gaze. Take your Uncle with you, she said finally, after a very long and appraising look. He’s going to mess up my walls if he keeps this up. I don’t know how anyone deals with you, Ness. You’re impossible.

And yet you trust me with your kids, Uncle Ness said, gladly putting down the paint and heading for the door. Come along, children. We’re off to take a look at the brand new school you’re going to and all the magical things within it.

Raz laughed in the way teenagers do when adults think they’re being funny but they are unimpressed. Uncle Ness said nothing aloud and continued to lead them to the door, his voice in their minds. You appreciate this or I convince her to make you take over my painting.

Shiraz shut up, but Indira let a grin cross her face. If her mother was really going to insist on no abilities now that they moved to Whitten, then she was going to try and enjoy Uncle Ness’ company until he had to go back.

Chapter 2

Uncle Ness

Most hours of the day , Ness Bulsara was their flaky uncle and a freelance programmer, but it was no secret in the family that he was also a superhero. As Quantum, he helped save Vancouver on more than a few occasions, though rarely took on anything that was too dangerous. He could move things with his mind, including himself, and had worked to make his telekinesis more powerful through years to make people think he could fly or punch people really hard in the face.

He had been the only one to protest their move to Whitten, despite not coming with them. A city that had outlawed intentional public displays of powers, heroism, and using supernatural abilities for personal gain didn’t sit well with him. Indira could tell that there was something else too, though he never said what it was. Instead, he offered to help them move and stick around until they got settled. Indira suspected there was more to it than that and now, watching him reach across the dash to tap on the clock, she was certain of it.

There was a brief hiss of static out of the radio before Ness relaxed behind the driver’s seat and pulled out of the small suburb outside of the downtown core that they now called home. Shiraz sat in the front while Indira watched the back of her uncle’s head. He was letting his hair grow out these days, though she could still see a few scars from battles past and the dangerous life he’d chosen for himself.

There isn’t some villain that just moved into town or something, is there? Indira asked after a moment. Shiraz perked up in his seat, Indira knowing that he was wondering the same thing.

No, Uncle Ness told them. Nothing like that.

So why are you hanging around so long? Shiraz asked. There’s no way you want to be painting. You’ve got, like, hero stuff to be doing. Or work.

Paul’s got work covered, Uncle Ness said, earning an eye roll out of both of them. His business partner, Paul, was a friend of his from school that Uncle Ness dumped his work onto whenever hero business came up. There was no way that Paul wasn’t aware of Uncle Ness’ double life, but he insisted that he liked the extra work.

Mom’s right, Shiraz said, looking back out the window. You take advantage of him.

Didn’t you also have a kid? Indira asked. Was thinking about being a hero. You were trying to talk him out of it. Just transfered into my school before I left. Damien?

Damien’s not doing anything rash, Uncle Ness assured her. And all the hero stuff can be dealt with by other people while I’m gone. There’s something about Whitten, though, and I need both of you to be careful out here.

Because there’s no heroes?

Because heroes go missing in this place.

None of them spoke as Uncle Ness turned the corner. Shiraz let out a breath and took his phone out of his pocket, frowning at it before looking back to Uncle Ness. You sure it’s not just the cell reception? he asked. My calls have been dropping like crazy since I got here.

No, that’s not it, he said. I’m going to stay in town long enough to poke around a bit. I know a few people who’ve come here before to check it out and no one’s heard from them since. Just in case, though, I need you kids to be careful. Especially you. His eyes went to the rear view mirror to meet Indira’s. We think they’re tracking people down somehow, and I don’t know if it’s heroes specifically or just anyone they can find with powers.

Why me? Indira demanded. Raz has powers too!

Yeah, knowing someone’s going to die soon is really useful in a fight, Shiraz said. I’m not going to turn hero any time soon.

And I am? Even if I wanted to be constantly in the hospital, you saw the results of my powers test last year.

The powers test had become a stable part of their education. Every two years, students went in as part of a physical examination to determine if they had gained or lost any new abilities over the course of their education. It was an effort to catch abilities early and offer students mentorship or training, and to keep them from rashly running off to become heroes without knowing what they were getting into. The test was notoriously difficult to cheat and resulted in a significant decrease in teenage superhero mortality rates, as well as teenage superheroes.

While they could keep their results private, Indira saw no need to in a family where most of them had some ability anyway. Her tests showed that her minor telepathy was actually getting weaker as time went on and that she was likely going to lose it entirely in the next few years at this rate.

"There is no way you actually scored that low on the powers test."

At least I don’t have to-

"Look,  Uncle Ness said firmly, moving his gaze to the road, it might be nothing, but I’d appreciate it if you could be careful while you’re settling in. Both of you."

What’s mom say? Shiraz asked.

Uncle Ness shook his head. She doesn’t think anything’s going to happen. Thinks I’m being paranoid. And I might be, but sometimes it takes her a bit before she sees anything coming. And on your right is Larkdale Secondary.

Indira and Shiraz both looked over to their new school. It looked bigger and newer than their last school in the heart of the city, but it was still very recognizably a secondary school. Teens walked past and loitered on a set of picnic benches out front, which made Indira wonder if there really was that little to do in Whitten.  

In front, Shiraz twitched and looked quickly away from it. Neither Uncle Ness or Indira said anything, Uncle Ness continuing to drive past the school. Shiraz relaxed a moment later, very used to the flashes, though Indira tried to get a better look at the kids walking past the school. She didn’t know any of them yet, but if Shiraz’s reaction was anything to go by, one of them wasn’t going to be around much longer.

Well, I don’t feel like going back to painting, Uncle Ness said, turning the car towards downtown. I think I saw a gelato place. My treat.

Chapter 3

Larkdale Secondary

Indira had a newfound sympathy for new students and the frustration that often came off of them on their first day. She hadn’t changed her mind about Larkdale Secondary now that she was inside of it, still finding it to be a larger version of her last school. The halls weren’t so covered in the faces of previous alumni, the school only a few years old now to compensate for the influx of new families moving into the area, but the walls still seemed to already be showing the wear. Or perhaps that was just the continued presence of the black specks embedded at random into them.

Unfortunately, the secretaries were much the same as her old school as well. The woman at the front wore a nametag with no name on it, smiling through her bright red lipstick with the glassy eyes of someone who was expecting inane questions. Did you want a hand finding your way around? she asked, glancing back into the rest of the office for someone that she could send with them in her place.

Shiraz and Indira stood at the counter with a small package of papers consisting of the school rules, a map, and their schedules. It was becoming very clear that this was as much of an introduction as they were getting before being sent to class. They slipped their temporary student cards into their bags, Shiraz catching her eye. She didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was asking and shook her head.

It’s all right, Indira told her. We have maps. We should be able to figure it out.

All right, dear, she said. It’s a shame that you didn’t come a little later in the year, though. I know there’s plans to create something for all you new students that keep coming up to help you get used to the place.

Curious, Indira took a glance at her mind. The woman’s name was Emma and there was a group of students who really wanted to put together a Welcoming Committee to help settle the new students they seemed to be getting every week. Emma would really appreciate it because she couldn’t trust Rick in the office on his own for five minutes out of fear he might wreck the old copy machine. If he were at least decent at showing these new kids to their classes it might not be so bad, but-

Oh, Emma knew that sound. He’d gotten the paper stuck in it. Again.

I’m sure we’ll be fine, Indira told her, nudging Shiraz with her down the hall. Thank you.

"I’ll be fine, you mean, Shiraz said, though he didn’t protest their getting moving. He looked back down at the map and his schedule, then up to the numbers on the doors around them. You are screwed."

It can’t be that hard to figure out, Indira said. Look, if you need anything, just text me, okay? And if there’s anything weird-

I’ll be fine. Try not to get too lost.

Indira swatted him on the arm and Shiraz left with a smug grin on his face down the hall. She took another turn before looking at her schedule again. She was supposed to go to room 321A, wherever that was, and started to walk, watching the room numbers climb and fall, though none of them seemed to be the right one. There were lines and lines of lockers and many rooms as she went up and down the stairs, as well as the random student wandering the mostly empty halls, but her room number never quite appeared.

She frowned back down at her schedule. Shiraz was good with patterns, but Indira could never quite figure them out. She was fairly certain that she should be on the third floor, at least, but once she found it, she could not find any rooms that had letters on them. She was lost, and it hadn’t even been ten minutes.

Hey.

Indira looked up from her schedule to find a tall boy walking towards her. His brown hair was styled out of his face, letting her get a nice look at his strong jaw and pale blue eyes. He could have been the young protégé in an action movie, though his voice was just a little too deep for his face. Are you lost? he asked.

She was quick to wipe the stunned look off of her face and turn it into an embarrassed smile. She took a quick look in his head, finding that not only did he actually want to help, but Indira was also looking very good on her first day. Yeah, she said, looking back down at her schedule so she wasn’t staring. I’m sorry, I thought I could find the class on my own.

He came up next to her and stood tantalizingly close, offering his hand for her schedule. Here, I can probably figure it out, he said. She handed it over and got a hint of his Old Spice as he took it from her. In... Indra?

Indira.

Kyle, he replied, smiling widely enough at her that dimples cut into his cheeks. She was really liking Larkdale Secondary so far.  

Well, it looks like you’re in luck, he said as he led the way down the hall. You have history with Mr. Cantrell. He’s supposed to be pretty easy. Likes to go off of what he thinks are current events and alternative stuff and all that. I’ve got Ms. Richards and, god, if you ever see her show up on your schedule just switch. She’s such a hard ass.

So you know where it is?

Yeah, he said. Just this way. How long you been in Whitten?

We just got here on Friday, Indira said. She wanted to drop a little behind him and get a better view of him from behind, but there was no way he wouldn’t notice that. Mom’s had us trying to get these weird black spots out of the walls all weekend, so we’re still barely unpacked.

Kyle laughed. Oh, those things, he said. Yeah, there’s really no point. They’re everywhere. You should just ignore them. I swear, mom tried to get a bunch of them out back in the day and they regrew from the walls or something. There’s no getting rid of them.

What are they? Indira asked. It was clear Kyle wanted to keep talking about them, but he glanced at her to make sure it was okay. He hoped that he was being interesting. She didn’t care how interesting he was so long as she could keep looking at him.

Kyle looked around and smiled conspiratorially, keeping his voice low like the story was meant to be a secret. Okay, so back in the day – you know how Whitten’s all hero and villain free now, right? So back in the day that wasn’t the case. There was this big bad villain guy who launched a bunch of these things from the radio towers around town. They were supposed to be mind control devices or something. Thing is, they never worked. He did all this, but it never actually worked. Problem is that they are still everywhere, but since they’re completely inert, no one’s bothered to remove them.

And that’s why Whitten is The Speckled City? Indira finished. So it was a hero thing? Or a villain thing, I guess? That’s kind of weird for a place like this.

Kyle shrugged. I wouldn’t know. This place is kind of boring. I always wanted to go live somewhere that’s more exciting, you know? Somewhere that actually has all that mystery and danger and excitement! I think it would be awesome to actually be in the action and be able to do all of that, you know?

Indira smiled and shook her head. She caught the disappointment on his face, but more than that she caught the level of intrigue he had about her pulsing through his thoughts. "We moved here because of all the hero and villain stuff, she told him. There’s only so many times you can have your house and your dad’s work destroyed before your parents start thinking about finding some place that’s a little safer and stable."

The excitement coming off of him was palatable. You’re from one of the big cities?

Vancouver, she said. Indira wanted to continue, to make him smile more and stay around him longer, but her expression turned serious as she nodded at a large man that had appeared in the hall. She might not have been in Whitten or Larkdale Secondary for very long, but she was pretty sure she knew the difference between a student minding their own business and a teacher that was about to give detention to a pair of students caught wandering the halls during class. So you’re saying my class is just over here? she asked loudly enough to be overheard.

Kyle followed her eyes and straightened up, handing the paper back to her. Following her lead, he pointed at a door just a few away from where they were standing. So your class is just over there, he said. It was nice to meet you.

He offered his hand in a very stiff gesture and Indira took it, smiling. Thank you very much, kind stranger, she said with a wink as the teacher walked past. He did not seem to believe their show, but he wouldn’t bother them. I really appreciate it.

Kyle nodded awkwardly and started to turn away. I guess I’ll see you in Chemistry, he said. He avoided her eyes nervously and turned away. As Indira suspected, the view from behind was very nice as well. She could get very used to that view.

She watched as long as she could, but eventually her attention went back to the door. She knew she couldn’t delay this any longer. It was time to actually attend her new school. With a deep breath, she let herself into the classroom. Here went nothing.

Chapter 4

Personal Introduction

The lack of people in the room was the first thing she noticed. In Vancouver, the classes were lucky to have a single spare seat in the room. Here, there were two people to a table, three tables across, and more than a full row at the back of the room that had absolutely no students in it. The students that were there largely looked like they had been forced farther forward than they would have liked.

An older man, Mr. Cantrell, stood at the front and stopped as soon as she walked in. Other eyes followed, none of them confused. Indira could tell they were used to new students joining them, so a new girl a month into the new year wasn’t all that strange. She gently scanned the thoughts in the room to figure out where she stood. Some were glad for a break from the lecture, while others were concerned she was going to be an infuriating addition to the class. At least three of them tagged her with the word exotic and she made a careful note to avoid every one of them.

Recognition fluttered on Mr. Cantrell’s face after a moment. Ah! You must be... He looked down at a sheet on his desk. Indra?

Indira.

Well, take a seat. We were just getting into the parallels between the modern invasions of Afghanistan to the Napoleonic Wars. I’m sure you’ll be able to give us a fresh perspective on the whole mess of events.

Indira stopped looking around the class for a free seat and looked back to Mr. Cantrell. How?

Well, you know, I’m sure. We’ll get there.

It took a moment before it clicked. She looked around the class, noting that she was the only visibly Indian person in the room. She looked around and locked eyes with an Asian girl sitting alone at one of the farthest back tables. There was sympathy in her eyes. Indira knew where she was sitting.

My family is from Cambridge, she said. England.

Ah, Mr. Cantrell said, not looking the least bit troubled. I’m sure you have more of a perspective on the matter than you realize. If you could, though. He waved her to sit.

Indira sat next to the Asian girl and dropped her bag on the ground, pulling out paper to take notes. The girl pushed her open text book between the two of them as Mr. Cantrell continued to talk about Napoleon and started drawing a very thin comparison between him and Osama Bin Laden that would not hold up under any level of scrutiny.

I’m Penny, she said. He thinks you’re Muslim, by the way.

I know, Indira told her quietly. It was jarring to see a different history text book than she was used to in front of her. It was new, for one. The pages hadn’t been worn away from years of students passing them down, and there were no marks on the pages or the sides. She didn’t lift the cover to check, but the corners of the book were still intact and hadn’t been bent from being jammed into hundreds of backpacks before.

Mr. Cantrell continued talking in front of the class and Indira took out her notebook and a pen. She was only half paying attention, letting her hand take notes while she let herself get oriented.  Her classmates were disappointed that her interruption hadn’t lasted longer and were already falling into minding their own business. A few were still wondering about her, wanting to steal a glance back, and a few did. A few were distinctly nervous about her, though she didn’t care to pry into why.

Penny nudged her softly in the elbow, Indira feeling a bit of static pass between them. You probably shouldn’t do that too much.

Do what?

Indira followed Penny’s eyes to her own notes, with only a few lines written. She’d developed the habit over the years of only writing down anything that her teachers were particularly interested in or what they needed students to understand, given that those were usually the things they were tested on. Penny’s page was filled with carefully written points, including the thin comparisons to not so current events.

"He’s not really going to test on all that, is he?" Indira asked.

Penny narrowed her eyes at Indira, but went back to her own notes a moment later. Just be more careful.

Uncle Ness’ warning about keeping a low profile echoed in the back of her mind, but she still poked at Penny’s head. There was nothing there, Indira recognizing the shield that some people put up to keep anyone from reading their minds. If she wanted to know anything she’d have to put some effort into it, and she didn’t want to potentially cause a scene in the middle of class if Penny’s defences turned out to be even half decent.

The presence of it, however, told Indira more than enough. Penny was not your average high school student.

All right, I think that’s a good place to stop for today, Mr. Cantrell said, walking around the class and passing out worksheets. You’ll have tomorrow to finish these, but if you’ve been paying attention, you should be able to finish it before you leave today.

Indira didn’t need to read his mind to know that he was intentionally weaving his way through the class to talk to her last. When he did come by, he handed one to Penny, then knelt by the side of Indira’s desk as he handed the final one to her. How are you doing, Indra? Am I pronouncing that right?

It’s Indira.

Indyra, he repeated back at her. How are you doing? Keeping up? How far were in in your last school?

Indira nodded. We were just finishing up the Napoleonic Wars, so I’m okay, she said.

Good to hear! Penny, can you give Indyra a hand if she gets stuck and catch her up on as much as you can?

Sure, Mr. Cantrell, she said.

Indira started filling out the sheet, finding that her slim notes were more than adequate for the exercise. Her attention, however, went to the feeling in her elbow. The static from Penny earlier didn’t seem to have faded away, instead settling into a tingle that was slowly spreading up her arm, so lightly that she might have not noticed it if she wasn’t paying attention.

Next to her, Penny was poised like she was writing, her hand moving across the page, but her pencil leaving no mark. Indira tapped her arm, but she didn’t respond. The tingling moved more quickly up her own arm like little tendrils heading for the backdoor of her mind.

Magic. It figured.

Indira split her attention between being in class and dealing with Penny. In her mind, she created an empty white room to meet her, separate from anything private that she didn’t want her poking around in. Penny appeared in it a moment later, looking around in confusion before finally seeing Indira standing in the middle of nothing.

Well, this is different, Penny said to herself.

What do you think you’re doing? Indira asked.

Taking a look around. Penny continued wandering, pressing her hand experimentally against the wall. She waved her hands and drew a symbol in the air, but nothing happened. I’ve never seen anything like this before. No wall, but you have an avatar of yourself? Where is the rest of you?

Indira didn’t have the patience for her curiosity. Explain yourself or I’m going to make things very difficult for you.

Penny laughed. Oh? And how are you going to do that?

Can you feel this? she asked.

Outside of her mind, Indira tapped Penny lightly on the shoulder. Hey? You got any whiteout? she asked loudly enough that, if Penny was even remotely present outside of Indira’s mind, she should have heard it. When Penny didn’t respond, she reached over to take Penny’s pencil case to look for herself.

Feel what? Penny asked inside the white space.

Indira shook her head. Of course you can’t. What do you think you’re doing?

I’m just here for a quick peek, Penny said. She walked past Indira and kept looking around the small white room, puzzled. I’ll leave behind a warning for your dreams tonight, since you look like you’re going to need it, but... where do I put it? There’s nothing in here.

What were you expecting to find?

It’s different for everyone, Penny said, swiping at the air again and looking more annoyed when nothing happened. Usually there’s something here. A metaphor for how people see themselves. But with you... seriously, what is the deal with this place? You’re like a literal airhead. There’s nothing here. I guess I’ll just leave the dream with you?

Or you could stop being a bitch and just tell me what you want, Indira suggested,