When I awoke in the catacombs, I was desperate to get back to him—to all of the innocent Lengard Speakers—but I had been so weak from Vanik’s torture that I could barely stand, let alone embark on a rescue mission. Kael, however, had promised that when I was feeling better, we would return and save them all.

Another three days have passed since then, and thanks to Cami’s healing power, not only am I feeling better, but I have been for nearly seventy-two hours.

In that time, I haven’t seen Kael once.

“Have you spoken with him?” I ask Keeda. My voice is quiet but there’s an edge to it, as if the storm within me can’t keep from breaking through.

“I told you,” she says shortly. “He’s—”

“Busy. I know.” My tone is bitter. “Too busy to carry out his promises, apparently.”

It’s not just his promise to help me get back to Lengard. There’s another promise that Kael has yet to fulfill, one that only adds to my frustration: the promise that he would help me master my Creator ability.

While control is no longer something I need to learn—and I have Ward’s training to thank for that—there’s still so much that I don’t know, still so little that I’m capable of doing. My power should be infinite, limited only by my own imagination. But more and more I’m discovering how challenging it is to unlimit my imagination, to broaden my mind and allow my Creator ability to be creative. When I was in Vanik’s lab, weak as I was, if only I’d been able to think of what to do, I could have stopped him once and for all, instead of just running away to safety.

Never again do I want to feel so helpless—which is why, with Kael “busy,” I’ve had to resort to alternative help.

At first, it was just Cami and me. She was the one waiting beside my bed on day four, not Kael. I had expected her to ask what the plan was, to echo my thoughts by demanding that we needed to return to Lengard immediately. Instead, she quietly asked if she could heal my wounds. I’d hesitated at first, some part of me feeling as if I owed it to those left behind to keep the pain as a reminder that they were still suffering, even if Dr. Manning’s ability meant they had no idea. But seeing Cami’s pale face and the tears glistening in her eyes, I had nodded silently, aware that she blamed herself for what had happened, at least partly. If allowing her to heal me eased some of her guilt, then I would give her that.

Within seconds, all I had left from that night was a faint white scar on my arm where Crew, under Manning’s mental command, had used his power to tear open my flesh.

The scar still itches, but the pain is gone.

The physical pain, at least.

After Cami healed me, some of the color had returned to her face, a new resolve settling over her features. It was then that she asked me what we were going to do, how we were going to help the Exodus recruits.