Revolution (Book 3 of POE Chronicles)

Novella: Margo Part 2

Let me set the record straight once and for all: I didn't dislike the de Silver, I just didn't feel like I belonged with them as much as I do with my own family.

I would be lying to say I hadn't regretted saying yes to visiting the de Silver every year. It was extremely tedious and boring. They didn't want to take me anywhere fun except bombard me with history lessons and made me sit with other young de Silvers in a room. They were boring, the conversation simply didn't flow.

The first few visits all passed like the worst maths class. The other de Silvers clearly wasn't thrilled to see me either. Frankly, they all looked too full of themselves to even be worth talking to. One of them, this guy called Gerald something, was the worst. He was like a robot, always listening to everything the adults said and giving me creepy looks. I would have slapped him silly if mother hadn't made me promise not to cause any trouble. Besides, I was supposed to network. So I tried.

"Margo, how are you doing?" Harold was waiting outside the classroom and rushed to greet me as I left yet another history lesson. I pursed my lips at him. He always showed up when I was feeling the least patience.

"It was good," I answered curtly and started towards the library. Harold won't follow me there and neither would my classmates; the whole silence in library thing was enforced rigorously here. I had made myself a nice little corner to read until it was time for bed. At least they had some books that the Balikova didn't. Two weeks here really was too long. I couldn't even go anywhere because this was a secret underground base.

"We're thinking of assigning you a buddy, so you can integrate more here." Harold didn't get the hint and sped up to walk alongside me. I wished my legs were longer so I could leave him behind. "What do you think?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I replied through gritted teeth. A buddy? A nark was more like it. I didn't need a living surveillance camera. "I don't need a buddy." Being polite and feigning to care en mass was bad enough, doing it one-on-one would kill me.

Harold paused and the silence was charged between us. I wished my telepathy would surface already so I can read people's minds. Then I didn't have to guess, I would know what to say to get out of these situations. I ignored the nagging worry in my head about my power's late emergence; supposedly the earlier it surfaces, the more powerful you were. I was eleven and some other Balikova and de Silver had got their powers.

"I'm going to the library," I told Harold; maybe that'd get him off my back. He nodded, his brow creased and a distant look in his eyes. I slowly walked away from him and then broke into a speed walk. Yes! A clean getaway.

Everything was state of the art in this secret headquarter of theirs. I had no idea of its exact location and apparently neither did most. Their founder, this guy named Akram, asked his descendants to build it with detailed instruction, in case something were to happen. And they all took that secret to the grave. Apparently. Unlike them, our headquarters weren't a secret because we had complete faith that we could defend ourselves.

I passed by a few of the other students in my class on my way and nodded in acknowledgment. I didn't come to make friends, but it paid to be on good terms with them. After all, I was here to show them how different I was. So that they'd know my face and name when I become the most powerful P.O.E. in the world.