Henri stares at him in disbelief. "I got that, and I understand that she trusted him, but the other kids trusted him, didn't they? They were young and innocent and he seemed so smart and big to them. But why Callie, of all of them? Why not the girl who can kill with a glance? The boy who can walk through walls and play with metal like clay or make warm water hard as a rock? Why not Alyssa, the girl no one notices but could set fire to anything?"

"Why the girl who's no good in actual fighting but is smart enough to figure out combat plans by watching the past? He's got an army, maybe he just wants someone to refine his plans. Callie can watch and see flaws in plans, point out what techniques are best against enemies. And she can see whether or not the next battle will be a win or loss-or she should be able to. James has also informed me that Callie is unable to form predictions at will, which she should be able to do after 8 years of study," my father explains. The way that he doesn't look Henri in the eyes tells me that there's more than what he told Henri.

"Maybe Matilda's holding her back is a good thing," my mother says, "if Simon wants to use her. If she falls into Simon's grasp, she won't be able to help him. Not very much, anyways."

"She'll help him more than she should-and if she refuses, he'll still use her. After this mess is over, we will remove hypnosis as a power. Now, Henri, don't forget what I've told you to tell her."

I'm almost positive that my mother and father aren't just talking about me working with the enemy. Is there something else that I should know?

"Give her some information on the war, and tell her...tell her that Simon wants her. Yeah, I'll tell her all of that," Henri mumbles.

"Also, tell James to start training Callie with the weapons. She needs to know how to fight," my father adds. "And maybe train her more in her power."

"And let her know that we still love her, even though we may never see her again," my mother whispers. "Please let her know that."

Henri nods and walks out the circular stone room, each footstep echoing in the gloom like the conversation that just ended.

I open my eyes. I'm now lying partially on the floor with my head in James's lap. "Are you okay?" he asks me. His eyes are wide and filled with worry. An older Keeper walks by, but stops to stare at the scene. James snaps at him, "Go! Now!" and he does.

I push myself up into a sitting position, but lean my head against James's chest. The fear and stress from the flashback hits me hard, and I begin to cry. James immediately begins to try to comfort me, rocking me back and forth and crooning, "Shush, shush, it's okay...you're okay..."

He manages to pull me into a standing position without removing his arms. We stand in the middle of the corridor for a while, while James hugs me and shushes me. When I've calmed down enough, he pulls me into the dorm. He sits me down in an armchair and gets me a glass of water. "What happened, kiddo?" he asks gently, kneeling down in front of me.

I take a sip of water and spill some of it all over myself. My hands are shaking, so James takes the glass and puts it down on the end table. "Can you tell me what happened, sweetie?"

"Simon...Simon wants me," I gasp. "He wants to use me and he wants you dead."

"I know, sweetheart," he says. "Henri told me that your parents told him that-"

"That Simon wants to use me and that I'm behind in developing my powers, I know. I...that's when I flash-backed to. I heard about the stuff about Matilda, too."

James stares off into the distance. "She's threatened me, Callie. She's threatened to make me lose my job, to make my life a living hell... I hate her and I don't think she should be in charge here at all. In fact, I don't think she should even work here. She hates children and she neglects you guys. She's got everyone under her thumb. She only cares about herself and money."

"And she's brainwashed the government into keeping her job," I say. "This isn't fair, James!"

"I know it isn't," James says evenly. "But I can't do anything about it, and nor can you, and nor can anyone."

"I'm scared," I whisper. "I can't stop thinking about how Simon wants me. He wants me, James, he wants to use me, and he wants you d-dead..." The tears come back again, and I'm sobbing too hard to speak. James stands up and wraps his arms around me again, pressing my face into his tummy. "You can't tell Matilda," I whisper.

"I won't. You know I won't," he says, stroking my hair.

"A-and Poppa, he wants m-m-me to train with-with weapons, in case I need to-to use them, I guess, and I know that sh-she'll take that away from us..."

"If the Chief Keeper says that you should, then she can't take that away from you. Every weekday night after dinner. How's that sound to you?"

I look at him with wide eyes. "But-but how will you t-t-train me?" 

"Callie, I studied to be a Trainer in school. I wouldn't have been able to become a Guardian otherwise. So I know how to use weapons."

"Crap," I say, which makes him laugh. "How come you needed to know how to be a Trainer to be a Guardian?"

"Who goes into detail with your Training? Me or Matilda?"

"Um, did you just forget our conversation?"

"Okay, bad example. But you know that Trainers teach the concepts, and then the Guardian goes into more detail, right?"

"Yeah...."

"Okay, so in order to learn that stuff, we had to study Training. Specifically, Keeper Training, because your Training is obviously more war-oriented than, say, a medic's training. Now, I learned about Time Keeping when you were still a toddler. I learn it as I go along with your Training," James explains.  

"Oh, okay," I reach for the glass of water on the table. James hands it to me. "I'm glad to see you're okay," he says quietly.

No, I'm not okay. I'm not okay with the fact that Simon wants to use me. I'm not okay with the fact that Simon would probably kill James to get to me. I'm not okay with the fact that Matilda is forcing me to fall behind with my training. I'm not okay with any of it. I've held the panic at bay for now, but I'm not okay. I don't think I will be for a long while.

I think of the premonition. It's clearer now. I make out the piece of metal in my hand-it wasn't a knife, after all-and see the little flower pattern all over the gown. I'm so scared, so angry. I had already figured out someone had died-or will die-but I didn't know who.

But if my hunch is right, Simon gets what he wants. Part of it, anyways.

My head lurches back, spilling the water all over me again. "James? Remember the premonition I had?" I say in a small voice.

"Yeah?"

"I told you that I think someone's going to die. And I think, by putting the flashback and the premonition together, I-I know...who it is."

James sits down on the floor-I think his knees just gave way. "Don't say that. Callie, please don't say that."

"It's just a thought," I say quickly. Because I don't want to believe it either. It's the last thing I want to believe. "I don't know if I'm right, or if it's someone else... I mean, I didn't see it..." my voice falters as James gets to his feet unsteadily. "James?"

"Hm?" his eyes find my face but I don't think he really sees me. "I'm okay. Yeah, you could be wrong....I hope you're wrong..." he mumbles. Then he shakes his head. "Sorry, I just don't want to think about that. Ever."

I can only nod. More than ever, I wish I could go back to before the first trip to the surface in eight years, back before I had to worry about war and the enemy wanting to use me and the possibility of James dying. Even if I could go back-I do some quick mental math-seven weeks, I'll still face this day. It's like stopping a premonition-I can push it off, but it will happen.

"You know what's funny?" I say in a strangled voice. "Less than a month ago you and I were sitting down for a game of cards and then we heard an announcement that we could go up to the surface. Then that night, I had the premonition. Now look at where we are. In less than a month!"

"Two months before that, we were celebrating your fourteenth birthday," James says. "How sweet life must've been for you. How sweet and ignorant. Funny how time flies when you feel like your life's in danger, huh?"

James's voice is so bitter I recoil slightly. "James-"

"Don't," he says in a choked voice. "Don't say anything, because it's not going to help at all. This was a happy day. What happened?"

"Are you mad at me?" I ask incredulously.

James looks me straight in the eye. "No, I'm not. I'm mad at fate and other BS that's telling me I'm going to get killed. I'm not mad at the messenger; I'm pissed at the message itself." Then he goes to his room, slamming the door behind him. I stay seated. James is right. Today started off happy. Now we're both miserable and scared, and it's not even noon.