Darkhaven

Zenna was on her own in her Monday misery. For me, the miserable days were Tuesdays and Thursdays. After a particularly nasty session that Donovan cut short, raging at my incompetence, Stephen dropped me back at school early.

‘How are you going?’ he asked as we pulled up. He always enquired, but I got the feeling he wanted more detail this time. I liked travelling in silence; it was half an hour each way of blissful quiet, of not having to consciously suppress my senses, and Stephen gave me space.

‘Okay, I guess. Except for sensory control.’ Understatement of the year. I spent most of Donovan’s sessions huddled in the chair, trying to remember to breathe through the barrage of experiences she presented. Between her projector, migraine-inducing bright lights and the endless library of sounds created just to assault my ears, I was a quivering mess. I forgot to breathe when she produced the first example from her morbid collection of strong smells. I passed out and woke up in the care of Catherine, who told me I could refer to her as Doctor Whittaker and sent me straight back to Donovan’s office.

Stephen nodded. ‘Donovan is tough. But, believe it or not, she’s the best person for the job. No one has control down to an art like she does.’

‘Huh. I wish she’d develop teaching down to half an art.’

‘Be patient. Sensory control is a hard thing to learn.’

I bit back a snarky retort. I had a sense that now might be the time to ask more of the questions I wanted answers to. I took a breath. ‘What makes you think it’s magic?’

Stephen clasped his hands in his lap. ‘Luci used to keep rabbits. I left my jacket behind one day and went back to the lab. She didn’t know I was there, and she had a pair of rabbits in her lap. One of them had a broken leg. She moved her hands over the other one’ – Stephen moved his own hands in a complicated circle – ‘and red light sparked between her palms. The rabbit fell asleep. She kept working her hands, and the other one’s leg straightened and healed. The next day, both rabbits were perfectly fine.’ He looked at me. ‘Tell me that doesn’t sound like magic.’

I nodded. ‘Did you ever ask her?’

Stephen shifted in his seat. ‘Not directly. Jan was always there, and whenever I tried to broach it, he’d change the subject or call one of us away. I think he was jealous of not being an Eventer. And Luci and I weren’t on the best terms by then.’

‘What happened?’ I asked, without thinking.

Stephen looked away. ‘Some other time, perhaps.’

I centred myself and reached back into my intuition. ‘Has Darkhaven found out anything about the magic?’

‘Not yet. Liam and I work on it when we have time. Catherine is more interested in the science, and that’s good too. We’ll keep looking.’ He gave me a sly smile. ‘I think you could help.’

I ducked my head to hide my own grin. I didn’t want Stephen to think I wanted this too badly, lest I lose some of my bargaining power. Researching magic sounded like a dream. Giving up Alex and my friends was a nightmare.

‘Have you heard from Keraun again?’

‘No.’ Between the Darkhaven sessions, keeping up with school and trying to spend enough time with Alex and my friends to stop them being suspicious, I barely had time to think about Keraun, although I couldn’t deny that he was there, in a corner of my mind. I’d thought about calling him last weekend, but Cecelia had demanded a study session and I’d run out of excuses to brush her off.

‘Good,’ Stephen said. ‘I think you should stay away from him. He’s trouble.’

I guessed Stephen didn’t know who he really was, or he would phrase that a little more forcefully. As if a god of lightning wouldn’t be trouble. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’d better go. Alex will be here soon.’

I climbed out of the car, grabbed my bag, and waited until the Corolla had disappeared before pulling out my phone. It was Zenna, hassling me to join her for a movie tomorrow after school. I offered Saturday instead. I was excited about tomorrow’s session – it wasn’t with Donovan, for a start, and Liam had promised something different for Friday afternoon. He’d told me to bring my makeup bag, wear dressy sandals and tell Alex I would be out late.

With Liam’s encouragement, I was making progress. He helped me pinpoint different feelings in my body that were clues about what I knew subconsciously. I still guessed a lot, but I was getting better at the process: taking my awareness out of my mind and all its mental clatter, past my heart with its lurching and longings and into what Liam called a “calm place”, somewhere around my navel. It wasn’t calm a lot of the time, but when it was, I found I knew things. I could answer questions from that place without even thinking. We’d been playing card games, poker mostly, and although Liam was formidable with his clairvoyance, I was starting to get closer to matching him. He might know what the cards were, but he couldn’t change them, and I was starting to know when he was bluffing, as well as having pretty good hunches about a hand. I’d also borrowed Alex’s laptop to copy Donovan’s CD. I hadn’t had any more overwhelm attacks, but I wasn’t confident that a big enough sensory shock wouldn’t send me flying out of control.

Like the one coming tonight, when Stephen announced the plan. ‘The casino?’ I asked, wings of excitement and anxiety fluttering through my belly. ‘How can we go to the casino?’

Stephen didn’t answer. He took up one of the chairs under the pergola, poured himself a cup of tea and sat back, watching the birds play as if he did this every afternoon. Maybe he did.

Liam gave me a cheeky, playful look. ‘Well, Stephen has offered to drive, and we walk up the stairs and ta-da! We are at the casino. Fair warning though, it’s a test. If it goes well, we know you’re on track for the Taskforce mission. But don’t worry, it’ll be fun. We all need to get out of Darkhaven sometimes.’

I had to agree with him on that point. I flopped down in one of the chairs, regretting the abrupt movement as my buttocks hit the unyielding iron. ‘But I’m underage, and do you even exist in the real world?’

Liam laughed. ‘After a fashion.’

He fished a slim wallet out of his pocket and showed me a driver’s licence. It looked legit, with the WA crest, a photo of Liam and a birth date. If the date was correct, he was only four years older than me. But the name offered on the licence was James Hall.

‘Is it real?’

He grinned. ‘The birthdate happens to be accurate.’ He handed me another piece of plastic, this one with my photograph on it. My birthdate was definitely wrong, making fake-me eighteen years old, and apparently my name was Ellen Hall.

‘If anyone asks, you’re my sister, and we’re out for your birthday.’

‘Do we have to dress up?’ Liam knew the story: the last time I’d worn a dress was to a school dance three years ago. Nancy had picked it out for me, assuring me the knee-length, pink-and-black thing with mesh panels was striking and feminine. I’d frowned at myself in the mirror, tugging at the seams that dug into my upper arms and sucking in my stomach. Then Dylan Rickshaw followed me around all night, complimenting how the magenta went with my pale skin – which it obviously didn’t – and I hadn’t been to any school dances since. Staying home in my pyjamas with a book was much more appealing.

Liam tucked his wallet away. ‘It’s not Casino Royale. But if you like, I did pick out a couple of outfits for you.’ His brow wrinkled. ‘I hope it’s not too presumptuous, but I didn’t think your dad would support this expedition.’

Dad gave me an allowance for my phone and coffee dates, but I usually had to borrow his credit card for clothes. It would have been impossible to hide or explain a dress purchase. If someone like Keraun had shown up with hand-picked outfits, I might have squirmed, but this was more like my older brother busting me out for the night. Excitement started to outweigh my fear. ‘I can’t wear my school clothes, right?’ I said, grinning. ‘Thanks.’

Liam’s expression relaxed. ‘They’re hanging in the wardrobe in the bathroom.’

After three weeks of training here, I’d figured out which unidentified doors led to the important rooms, like the kitchen and bathroom. I set my makeup bag next to the basin and opened the wardrobe, apprehensive. In it hung a drapey cardigan and behind it, a long, black dress. Well, it was long on one side; on the other, it was slit up above the knee. The top half looked like it would be tight-fitting, although with a high neckline and full sleeves. I left the dress in the wardrobe and showered, taking my time. I’d told Alex I was having a girls’ night with Zenna and Cecelia – at Zenna’s, because her parents were less likely to talk to Alex and reveal that I wasn’t there at all.

I took my time with my makeup, using a green eyeshadow that I didn’t usually wear because it felt too fancy, glimmering above my grey irises. There wasn’t much I could do about the roots beginning to show in my hair. Zenna liked the look – of course she did, my roots were red, and she loved bright and contrasting hair colours – but I preferred to keep dying them. It wasn’t going to happen today.

Finally, I turned to face the slinky dress. I pulled it off its hanger, noticing another outfit behind it: a killer black skirt and a satin top. I hesitated.

Stop it, a morbidly curious part of me said. Just try the dress. Well, I could always take it off if I didn’t like it.

I turned away from the mirror and pulled the dress over my head, trying not to smudge makeup on it as I shimmied into the stretchy fabric and smoothed down the skirt. The slit was high, almost to my hip, but my upper thigh was covered by a sort of ruffle that went around my waist on an angle. I shifted towards the mirror, so I could see the back of it, and stared.

The ruffle complemented my hips as it slinked up and around the snug dress. Long, fitted sleeves smoothed over my arms, finishing in subtle ruffles at the wrists. The whole piece glittered as I twisted and turned, like a sheet of midnight cloud veiling the stars. Nothing dug in or was uncomfortably tight. I drew in a deep breath. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to rush away from the mirror.

I’d worn my usual boots to school, but I had packed a pair of block heels with black straps, shoes I hadn’t worn since the school dance horror story. They worked much better with this dress than they had with the magenta one. Ready to go, I placed my hand on the doorknob, then paused, nerves fluttering in my stomach – not because I felt silly or unattractive, but because I felt too attractive. Sexy, even.

A knock sounded on the other side. I jumped about a foot in the air as the rap of knuckles banged through my ears. Trying to shut out my hearing, I mentally lowered the volume the way Donovan had taught me. It sort of worked.

‘Gabby?’ Liam called. ‘Are you ready? Stephen is waiting for us.’

Another fear hit me: the casino would be busy. Loud. Full of the scents of perfume and drinks and bodies. Bright lights and people brushing shoulders. This wasn’t a test for my poker face.

‘Are you okay, Gabby?’ Liam called again.

‘Yeah.’ I grabbed the cardigan, stuffed my makeup back into its bag, scooped up my jeans and school shirt and opened the door. Liam was dashing in deep navy slacks and a jacket.

He smiled. ‘Feeling good?’

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded and followed him down the hallway, dumping my stuff in his office on the way out.

To my relief, Donovan had chosen not to join us, and I spent the drive gathering my thoughts and nerves while Stephen and Liam chatted quietly in the front. It had rained while I was getting dressed, and the casino loomed over the slick car park, dwarfing the twisted gum tree Stephen parked next to in the enormous lot. Row upon row of cars glimmered under the amber lighting.

Liam led the way inside and up the escalator. A kaleidoscope of colours, sounds and smells pressed in from every angle, pushing on my brain. The venue itself was assault enough – gaudy carpet, brightly lit walls, abstract paintings and posters everywhere and music coming from all directions, including wailing from a karaoke bar. I struggled to keep up with Liam and Stephen as people swirled around us. The air was thick with cologne and the rich aromas of food wafting from the surrounding restaurants. Talk and laughter babbled like lemonade bubbles, and I could hear three different bands playing at distant locations. I stopped walking, struggling to breathe.

Within a moment, Liam and Stephen appeared on either side of me. Liam took my arm. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, his voice low. ‘We’re not going to lose you.’

I focussed on his voice and the pressure of his hand on my elbow to keep everything else at bay. We passed through security – my Ellen alias worked – and entered the main gaming room. Rows of poker machines lined one side, all noise and flashing lights, coins and chips clattering on plastic trays. I was shocked at the range of people sitting at them: young girls in heels and slinky dresses, giggling and sipping green cocktails; men donning dark jeans and blazers laughing and jeering at each other; older folk, some wearing scruffy jumpers and track pants, hunched over their screens as if they were part of the installation. I turned away from the poker machines and surveyed the rest of the room, careful to control the sensory input, keeping my awareness on Liam and Stephen.

Liam stopped at the door to the poker room, his eyes alight. ‘I’ll get us some drinks,’ he said. ‘Ellen’ – he had to jab me with his elbow before I remembered he was talking to me – ‘I want you to watch a game. See what you can pick up about each player. What do you know about them and their hands? I’ll be back.’

He ducked away, disappearing into the crowd. Stephen stood stiffly at my side. I watched the tables, sinking my awareness down to my calm place. Now that I was standing still and had a single thing to focus on, the rest of the room was not so overwhelming. Of course, if it had been Donovan issuing the challenge, I would be a crying heap on the floor right now.

There were others watching the game in front of us, but I felt like I stood in a spotlight as I judged their plays and discerned their intentions, as if someone would see what I was doing. I quickly sensed who was bluffing and had a pretty sure idea which player was going to win.

Liam returned, bearing three pink, icy drinks. Stephen raised his eyebrows, questioning.

‘They’re non-alcoholic. Let’s play,’ Liam said, passing out the drinks and leading us away. ‘Who was going to win?’

‘The woman in the white shirt,’ I answered. ‘She was bluffing. So was the man with the goatee, except he’s more nervous, she’ll outlast him. The man in blue probably had the best hand, but he was about to fold.’

Liam nodded. ‘Good.’

‘You knew all that?’ I asked.

He nodded again. ‘I could see the outcome of the game, after I tuned in to it. I usually have to focus on an event to see what is going to happen.’

‘And you can see the outcome of any event? Does it have to be close? Does it work on any scale?’

Liam smiled. We hadn’t really had a chance to discuss his abilities; our sessions were always packed with exercises for me. I hadn’t even dared ask Donovan what she could do.

‘It’s a difficult thing to test the limits of, but it seems distance is no barrier. Neither is time. But there are some limitations.’

‘Like?’

‘It’s harder to see things around people I’m close to. And I can’t connect with the dead.’ A frown creased his face. ‘I also can’t see our upcoming mission,’ he began, but Stephen cut him off.

‘Not here.’

Worry edged into my mind. I assumed he was talking about my getting us into the Taskforce, but I didn’t have the mental space to stress over something else right now. I gripped my drink, fingers chilled around the icy glass, still taking care to keep the sensory input at a manageable level. This was why Darkhaven was so quiet and out of the way. It was mentally exhausting being anywhere else.

We stopped at another poker table with two empty seats. Liam took one and gestured for me to take the other. My pulse quickened. I hadn’t realised I would actually be playing.

‘Um, Li—James,’ I whispered. ‘I’m not ready for this.’

‘Of course you are.’ With a wicked grin, he passed me a pile of coloured chips.

‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ I hissed.

‘You know how the game works. You’ll figure the rest out.’

Since stalking off was my only other option and that would put me alone in an overwhelming place with a fake ID, I took my seat at the table. Stephen stood behind me.

‘Won’t you play?’ I asked him.

He shook his head. ‘It’s not really my game.’

The dealer welcomed us to Texas Hold ’Em and announced the big blind of one hundred dollars. I swallowed. My throat felt thick. A big blind of one hundred meant an early raise of three or four hundred. It was a lot of money. Real money. Not mine, which actually made it worse – if I lost spectacularly, I was losing Darkhaven’s funds. Most likely I would whittle it away with low bets on crappy hands that I’d bail out of because I wouldn’t be able to decide what to do.

With deft strikes, the dealer sent cards flying to land in front of each player. I peeked at mine.

Maybe having a fixed thing to focus on was the trick. As soon as I saw the cards – a two of spades and nine of hearts – my body relaxed. They were bad cards, but I didn’t just know that intellectually, I knew it in my gut. The dealer came to me.

‘Fold.’ I dropped the cards in front of me. The dealer swept them away.

The player next to me, a slight woman with straight, dark hair falling over her high cheekbones, raised to $300. Liam called it. He didn’t look at his cards when we played at Darkhaven – he just knew what they were – but he made a point of doing it here. The next three players folded. A man in a red shirt raised to $500. The flop came down: king of hearts, ace and four of diamonds. The woman raised again. Liam called. The man in red toyed with his collar, then folded. The turn was a queen of clubs. The woman beside me folded and – no surprise – Liam took the pot.

My next hand was better, but not by much. I folded on the following four rounds. Finally, my intuition shifted as my cards were dealt. This was it. A shiver ran down my back and I lifted the corner of my cards: jack and ten of hearts. I was in.

I raised the bet to $2400.

The woman next to me flicked her hair and called. Liam called too. Sometimes when we played, we’d deal and instantly declare a winner – Liam knew what the cards were, and I knew whether or not I could win. But poker wasn’t just about the cards, and I could also sense if I stood a chance. If I did bet on a hand, suddenly the game became about the players and who could bluff, out-bluff or unnerve their opponent. Liam couldn’t predict that because I didn’t make any decisions in advance. I just stayed still, and when the time came, I did whatever felt right. It was a liberating experience.

A blonde woman, a bearded man and the guy in the red shirt continued betting. The flop supported my hunch: queen of hearts and two threes. The air around the table thickened. I raised again to $4800. The woman next to me called. Liam, I realised, was playing to push the pot up. The turn was an eight of hearts. My heart raced. The blonde and the red shirt were out. By the end of the round, the pot was nearly $60,000. And it would be mine. Well, Darkhaven’s. My fingers tingled. The final card was turned up: nine of hearts. I had a straight flush. The hardest part was keeping a straight face. I tried to look ponderous and deliberate as I placed my bet, resisting the temptation to go all in. I sensed that if I did that, everyone else would fold.

Liam folded. The woman called my bet. So did the bearded man. The dealer called for the showdown: queens full of threes. Four threes. And my straight flush. I took the pot. Liam smiled to himself as he stacked.

My next hand was a pair of kings. Anyone would probably keep it, but I knew it wasn’t a winner. Yet … play the players. I had a sense I could bluff this one. As the flop showed up three completely useless cards, I saw the guy in red touch his collar. He’d bet high and he didn’t have the cards. I raised. Satisfaction rippled through my body. For the first time, I felt I really stood a chance to fulfil my end of the deal with Stephen – if I was successful on the rescue-Luci mission, I would get to keep my friends and my memories and have the option to stay with Darkhaven. On my own terms. It wasn’t that I was indecisive. It was just a matter of whether the hand was worth keeping.

The turn was another king. It was just me and the guy in red, who looked a bit more confident now. He raised the bet. We waited for the river. I could still feel that I could bluff him, if I just kept cool and –

A firm hand landed on my shoulder.

‘Excuse me, miss,’ a gruff voice said, ‘can we see your ID?’

My lifted mood splattered like a tossed water balloon. I turned to find myself looking up at a tall security guard with a hard face. Behind him stood a woman, shorter, stouter and even harder. Was it my winning streak? Did they suspect I was cheating? I kind of was. Or had they figured out I was underage? I felt panic start to rise, and with it, the volume and intensity of the sounds and sights and smells increased.

I took a breath. Pushing the fear down, I sank into my calm place, allowing the answers to come to me, as I had been doing in the poker game. Perhaps because I had so recently been in that zone, it was easier to slip back into. I weighed the options: cooperate or try to escape. The thought of handing over my fake ID sent an unpleasant shiver through my body.

I smiled at the guards, overly sweetly. ‘Sure. It’s in my purse, let me get it.’ I stood. Liam jumped up to take my hand, expression neutral. Stephen was on the other side of the table with a white-knuckled grip on his drink. I made a show of looking around, under my chair.

‘Oh, I must have left it in the toilets,’ I gushed, playing it up. ‘The ones just behind the pokies. I hope it’s still there!’

The male guard stood back and said something to the woman. She left, heading in the direction of the bathrooms. I hadn’t known she would leave, but I knew this was our best opportunity to escape. I shot Liam a look.

‘Run!’ I said, just loud enough for Stephen to hear too, but still too low for normal human ears. I picked up the chair and shoved it at the guard, then, on impulse, grabbed two handfuls of my chips as Liam, Stephen and I ran. The chair didn’t slow the guard much, and he was close behind us as we skirted tables and pushed past onlookers, creating angry shouts and more than one spilled drink. I ran towards the rows of poker machines, bounding like a giraffe in my heels.

‘He’s after me. Split!’ I said. Liam and Stephen melted away as I rushed down the rows of people sitting at the machines. The players barely noticed me until I got to the end. I turned. The guard was halfway down the row. I lifted my hands and tossed the chips back down the rows.

‘Free chips!’ I called. People turned from their chairs, scrambling to collect the chips, holding the guard up as he tried to get out of the melee.

I hitched my dress up a little and kept moving, no plan, just calm instinct, until I approached a wall. Stephen and Liam were nowhere to be seen. But my instinct paid off – a few metres down was a fire exit. I took it, glancing back. The guard was still tangled in the press of people, but he saw me. I leapt through the heavy door, letting it close behind me as I raced down the stairs, two at a time, praying I wouldn’t roll an ankle in my sandals. I didn’t count the flights, but halfway to the bottom I realised I should have. I’d been on the third floor of the building, and I wanted to come out on ground level. Now I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t have time to stop and count them.

I paused on the last landing before the bottom. I could hear heavy boots banging on the flight above me. I felt like this was the right level. But there were two crash doors, one on each side, and the signs that should have hung above them had been taken down. If my bearings were correct, one led to the basement and further pursuit, the other outside to freedom. The boots were getting closer. I didn’t have time to think. I took another deep breath, dropped into my calm place and went left.

I burst out into the night. I was on the outside of the building, looking across a road to a car park. There was the twisted tree. Gasping in the cold, damp air, and also enjoying the rush of successful escape, I slipped off my shoes and pelted across the wet road. I could hide in the car park if I got there before the guard came through the door.

‘Gabby!’

Liam and Stephen were walking down the road towards me. Stephen had his phone at his ear. I stopped. The guard didn’t show; perhaps he had taken the other door. Liam pulled me into a hug. ‘So, how much was guesswork, and how much did you do on intuition?’ he asked as we headed for the car.

I wasn’t done with my intuition. He didn’t sound relieved, but rather smug. Something clicked. No signs on the doors indeed. ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘You set all this up?’

Stephen gave a rueful smile. Liam looked triumphant, but there was a guilty flash in his eyes. ‘It was my idea. I wanted to see how you could use your intuitive skills in different situations, and under varying pressure.’ He climbed into the backseat with me.

Stephen glanced at me in the rear-view mirror as he drove us out. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ I replied. ‘Why the casino, though?’

Liam shrugged. ‘Donovan has a contact in the security department. We knew we could call it all off at any time. Good idea not giving them your licence, though. It’s best if people don’t have documents with your picture on them floating around.’

‘It felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t plan anything. I knew, without knowing I knew, where the exit was and which door to take. If that makes any sense.’ I rambled, elated at having passed the test.

Liam squeezed my shoulder. ‘You’ve done well, given the short time we’ve been working together.’

‘But you knew how this would all pan out, anyway,’ I said, sitting back, feeling the adrenaline start to seep away.

‘Your snap decisions do sometimes mess with my clairvoyance. But it was a safe test, and I hoped you would have some fun.’ He flashed me a playful smile.

‘I did,’ I replied, realising it was true – set up or not, I had enjoyed being in my intuitive zone. Blocking out all the background sensory noise had been easier when I thought the stakes were real and didn’t have Donovan’s aggressive expectations to deal with. I could imagine having a fun night out with Cecelia and Zenna when we were officially old enough, and enjoying it, not having to worry about the safety of three girls out in the city. I wondered if Liam’s excitement had been about the casino outing, or more about seeing how I handled his test. He was so at home in his garden at Darkhaven.

I voiced my thought. ‘Why the casino for the test? It doesn’t seem like your scene.’

‘It was convenient.’ Then he looked aside. ‘I’ve lived at Darkhaven most of my life. I don’t really know what my scene is.’

It was the first time I’d noticed his wistfulness, but now I realised it had been there all along. We sank into silence for the rest of the drive back to Darkhaven, each of us deep in thought.

***

Zenna bailed on my offer to catch a movie, so I slept through all of Saturday morning and spent most of the weekend hanging out with Alex, practising using my intuition in the real world. I was cautious though, and it was hard to keep my mind focussed on managing sensory input and still get into my calm place. It didn’t work on everything. My mess of homemade pizza dough on Saturday night proved that my cooking was not enhanced. It seemed like my strongest points were sensing people’s intentions and knowing where to go, or when.

After the pizza disaster, Alex suggested Harrys. They were always busy on Saturdays, but I followed my intuition to wait fifteen minutes, and we arrived just as a couple left and our favourite table became available. Maybe it was coincidence. Or maybe I actually stood a chance of succeeding at the Taskforce and winning my deal.