“The really disturbing thing is that nobody remembered what happened a few hours after the police loaded you into the ambulance,” Pete said.

“And you didn’t see what happened to Ann?” Jack asked.

“By the time I got to the classroom, they were cleaning up. A few students told me you were with Ann, but that didn’t make sense at the time.” Pete glanced over at Jack, who was slouching on the ancient bench seat, staring out the windshield. “So, what really happened?”

Jack sighed; if Pete was going to help him, it was only fair that he understood what he was getting involved in. He could feel Pete’s curiosity and excitement. But maybe, he thought, I can speed things up by showing him.

“Pull over,” Jack said. Pete settled the Oldsmobile onto the side of the road in front of a trendy loft apartment building. “I’m going to try something.” Jack put his hand on Pete’s shoulder and felt the intensity of Pete’s curious excitement. Jack tried to conjure images of his first encounter with Janile at his apartment. Pete looked at him sideways.

“Um, what—”

“Sh,” Jack said, but nothing happened. After a moment, he started slowly explaining events. Janile standing beside the streetlight, pulling him into a tunnel. Darean at Union Station and the woman with her whirling blade. Maybe, he thought, he could jump-start the connection by describing events. In the past, he had simply fallen into the other person’s mind, but now, nothing. It could be the lack of adrenaline, he thought. He concentrated on his fear and anger in the classroom with Ann.

“I don’t understand,” Pete said as a tremor vibrated through his body. In his own mind, Jack saw Pete standing beside the ambulance speaking to a chisel-faced policeman. The officer was looking at Pete suspiciously. “I don’t understand,” Pete said again, sitting beside him in the Oldsmobile with a furrowed brow.

“Close your eyes,” Jack said. “I must go further back.”

“A black man with his eyes closed in an old car downtown while a white dude caresses him is not…”

“Shut up, just close your eyes.”

Pete grimaced and closed his eyes. “This is some crazy—"

“Shh,” Jack called up his memory of the In-between. Maybe explaining from the beginning would help, as long as he left out the suicide part. “Let me tell you about Millae and the Nost,” he said. “Millae and Jode are the creators of humanity. The Nostshen are children of Millae, and Jode created the Nostshu later. The Shen are…” Jack paused, not cursed, he thought, “caught in a cycle of rebirth, traveling to Haven through the In-between. But the Shu live eternally in the physical. Jode engineered them to be a better, more advanced version of the Shen. The Shu create servants called Nostshi, by infusing their blood with humans along with some kind of injection. If the infusion fails, the human becomes a Nostmara. The Mara are damned to a short, painful life in service to the Shu.” Was he recalling this from this life or another? He didn’t remember learning this from Darean or Millae. He continued, “They look human, but if a Nostshi triggers them they deform hideously. Long, clawed hands, bulging muscles, and misshapen teeth. They gain terrible strength and love to dig. When they aren’t active, they burrow into the ground and wait until summoned by their Shi or Shu master. Many Shu defend their territories like this, maintaining a force of Mara buried around the perimeter. When triggered in a crowd, they can inflict mass casualties.”

Jack heard himself speaking, as if from far away, and imagined he was back in his old unit giving an intel briefing before an operation. But where was this knowledge coming from? It wasn’t from this life. He went on in an increasingly professional tone, “The male Shen senses and manipulates emotion and the female, thought. Each must bond with the other to fend off a condition known to the Nost as Shen madness. Nost have other abilities beyond telepathic and empathic.” He wondered what those abilities were and tried to stop speaking, but his grip on Pete’s shoulder tightened and he went on.

“The Nost council, along with many individual Nost and guild factions, seek the Isle of Song. The Pool of Consciousness rests on the Isle and gives the Nost an ability to influence the entire population of the planet through thought and emotion. It is also the key to finding the Lab. The Lab contains the central processing unit of the Organic Network Update System, among other powerful artifacts.” His words came streaming out in an authoritarian tone, as if speaking to a room of special forces troops, intent on an upcoming mission. He tried to stop, but his heart rattled in his chest and a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his skin. The words continued.

“ONUS has recoded the entire planet and exists in all DNA, elements, and substances. This enhances Nost abilities to manipulate matter and consciousness. Millae and Jode designed ONUS and the Lab in the first age, before the Burn. It was an age of great technology and genetic engineering. ONUS created Haven spontaneously during the Burn. We believe it was an effort to salvage Nost consciousness as millions died. Some speculate that the ONUS AI has become all-powerful. And now, now we must—”

“Jack!”

“—find Saeb’s totem, the gateway to the Isle is—”

“Jack!”

“—Saeb’s totem. My totem. Saeb is known as the god of war, he is—”

Jack felt a stinging pain course through his cheek and his head snapped to the side. Opening his eyes, he raised a hand to his cheek. The sound of the slap still resonated in his ears and Pete was leaning back with his hand still raised, eyes wide.

“Jack?”

“What happened?”

Pete let out the breath he was holding. “Your eyes rolled up into your head and you started rattling on about Nostshen and Shu and, and all kinds of other stuff.”

Jack closed his eyes and tried to recall the words he said.

“Tell me what I said, Pete.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember everything. What did I say?”

“You said the gateway was your totem.”

“My totem,” Jack said, tasting the word, experimenting with it. “What exactly did I say?”

Pete closed his eyes for a second and said, “You talked about ONUS, the Organic Network, something—”

“Yes, I remember that, what did I say after? About the gateway and totem?”

“You said the gateway was Saeb’s totem, and he was the god of war. I don’t understand.”

“The god of war,” Jack whispered.

“Right, you said his totem was yours and talked about Haven and the Isle of something and burning. What does that mean?”

“The Burn,” Jack said thoughtfully, closing his eyes for a moment. “It means I have to figure out what a totem is.”

“Are you the god of war?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jack said.

“Like Ares?”

“Stop.”

Pete squinted at him. “You don’t look like the god of war.”

Jack thought about his years of service and the atrocities he had seen, the violence people committed against each other. The violence he committed. Before this life, how many wars had he fought in? What about the dream? The blown-out town, the German soldier in the trenches, the modern gear. It was a mash-up of warfare from different modern times. What about farther back, thousands of years even?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, shaking his head as if to dislodge the images.

Pete let out a long whistle and put the car in gear. “If I didn’t see this stuff in your head myself, I’d think you were completely nuts.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw your accident,” Pete said, staring straight ahead with both hands on the wheel. Jack felt his face flush and thought, my suicide, you mean. Pete went on, “And I saw the In-Between, Janile, Darean, and the Order.”

“And the fight at school?”

“And Ann in a short dress with a dragon on it?”

“Forget about that.” Jack cleared his throat. “She would kick your ass if she knew you saw it. Besides, it was a dream, not real. The important thing is that you’re up to speed.”

“It’s hard to believe. You sure you want to go to your place? Won’t they be watching it?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“What if they kill you or at least kidnap?”

“If Darean kidnaps me, I’ll get to Ann faster,” Jack said with a chuckle. Pete shook his head and Jack went on, “All we have is Bobby’s lead about the cemetery, but I’m not sure how reliable that is. At least if I run into one of them at my apartment, I’ll get more information.”

“Or if it’s Darean or Janile, you might get dead.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jack said. His stomach was cramping, and he hoped Pete didn’t notice the sweat on his forehead. Maybe they should skip his apartment and buy new clothes on the way to the cemetery, he thought. Aloud, he said, “I need clothes.”

“Your clothes are worth walking into a trap? We might never make it to the cemetery.”

“You will because you’ll be down the road calling Greg and meeting Graves.”

“I’m not leaving you there.”

Jack settled down into the Oldsmobile’s threadbare bench seat, breathing in the smell of ancient cigar smoke and cherry air freshener. “You have to. Besides, you can’t help me fight them, anyway.” He wasn’t sure he could fight Janile again and knew for certain he wasn’t a match for Darean. At least, not yet. “You don’t understand the power they have.”

Pete shuddered behind the wheel, and Jack felt a tinge of fear from him and wondered if some of it was toward him. “And if I don’t make it out, someone has to keep looking for Ann.”

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s not my favorite either, but it’s all we have. Pull up here.” Jack pointed to an alleyway. His building was only a few blocks away. If Nost were watching his apartment, it would be from the abandoned building across the street. That’s where he would set up surveillance.

As they glided to a stop, Jack held out his hand and said, “Give me your phone.” After Pete slapped it into his palm, he loaded Graves’ and Greg’s number into it. “Call them when you’re away from here. Tell them to meet you at the back entrance of the cemetery at ten tonight.” Pete took his phone back and nodded. Jack hoped there was a back entrance. He should have checked.

Jack slipped out of the car and into the shadows of the alley. Rays of light stretched between the buildings like enormous knife blades as the sun finished its final descent. It was easy to slip into the parking garage, past the elevator, and up the stairs to his floor. He kept his awareness open, reaching out with his emotions to sense any other people or Nost. Besides a woman in her early twenties grumbling about working late as she walked to the elevator, there was no one.

A few moments later, standing in front of his door, he slid the gauntlet back onto his left hand. He flexed his fingers and felt a trickle of energy course through his hand and up his arm. It was easier to control the flow now. The connection felt natural, like a comforting warmth spreading through his body. After a moment, he slipped the key into the lock with his right hand, turning the handle, slowly pushing the door open.

“Hello Jack,” came a woman’s confident voice. He clenched his hand into a fist and felt the gauntlet wrench energy from the world around him. The air crackled and sparked, the temperature rose, and his heart raced. A slight acrid smell filled his nostrils. Strands of electricity arced from the floor, walls, and ceiling, pouring into his hand and raging up his arm. The whites of his eyes filled with blood, almost engulfing the glowing brown iris.

“Wait!” A porcelain-skinned woman stood up, raising her hands in front of her, palms out. Jack gritted his teeth, baring them in a vicious snarl. “I’m not here to fight,” she said with just the hint of an accent. The energy raging through him made it hard to concentrate. Jack imagined the mouth of a river gushing into the ocean as energy poured into him, threatening to sweep him away with the urge to destroy.

“Easy,” she said, her voice calm. “I don’t think you know what you have there.” She took a shuffle step toward him, hands still raised. “Focus on my voice. Breath in, then out. My name is Laean Hithner and I’m a Nostshen, like you. I’m just here to talk. That’s good. Let that energy drain away. Let it sink down.” Her voice was a soft steady rhythm, and he felt his mind relaxing. He fixed his gaze on her radiant red eyes. Two lazy dark curls framed her face. The rest of her charcoal hair was bound into a loose ponytail.

“That’s it,” she said, lowering her hands, “relax your mind.” Jack mimicked her and lowered the gauntlet. He drew in a deep breath as his thoughts returned.

“You manipulated me,” he whispered.

“Just a little. You didn’t really want to hurt me.”

“No.” He looked around his apartment. It felt like ages since he had been here. How long ago was it? Two nights maybe? When Janile attacked him. He tried to reach out and feel her emotions, but his senses glided over the space she should have occupied.

“How do you block my senses?” he asked, stepping into the apartment. He pulled the door shut behind him.

“It’s easy. You will have to learn.”

He nodded and asked, “Why are you here?”

“If you are who I think you are, I’ve been looking for you for a long time. So have many others.”

“Who do you think I am?”

She smirked. “Let’s start in the present moment. I know you and Ann started a bond, but something interrupted you.” Jack nodded again. “And I know Darean is hunting you.” He took a few steps into his apartment. “But I don’t know where you’ve been for the last day and a half.”

“You know Darean has Ann.”

Laean nodded, settling back down into the kitchen chair. Jack assumed she was trying to be nonthreatening. But at union station, while he was on his knees, obeying Darean like a babbling idiot, he watched her step off a roof, plummet through the air on a gale of lightning, and go head-to-head with that monster. He tried to fathom enough power to resist that man’s, that creature’s, power but couldn’t. She could obviously kill him with a flick of her sword, wherever that was. He didn’t see any bulges in her peasant blouse. And there was nowhere to hide a sword between the curves of muscle pressed into her tight blue leather pants. He raised his gaze back up to her shining red eyes. Was she manipulating him again?

“You have red eyes,” he said.

“Most Shen have unusually colored eyes, you will too, it is an ancient marker of our kind.”

“What does that mean?”

“You will learn… in time,” she said, with a slight twist of her lip.

“Where did the swords come from?”

“We conjure weapons from totems.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Unfortunately, no,” she sighed. “But we’ve been trying to do that for millennia.”

“What is a totem?” Jack asked and wondered who she meant by “we.”

She studied him and tilted her head. “Let’s trade information,” she said. “Where have you been?”

“The Order kidnapped me, but I escaped.”

She nodded as if testing and approving the statement before answering, “A totem is bonded to the Shen who wields it. It can be forged from many things.” Her accent disappeared as she relaxed. If he had not heard it, he would have guessed she came from any northern region in the United States. With the accent though, maybe somewhere in the far east? Not Asia, more like Ukraine or Kazakhstan. In the military, he never operated in the area but remembered familiarization training many years ago. She narrowed her eyes, and he wondered if she was reading his mind. “How did you escape?” she said.

“Totems are genetically bonded to the Shen?” he asked.

“Something like that. Tell me about your escape?”

“I made a friend on the inside.”

“Who was it?”

“A new friend.”

“Do you know what the Order is?” she asked.

Jack nodded. “They’re Nost, but most of them don’t know it. Most of them aren’t powerful. What else can a totem do?”

“Very good, Jack,” she said with an appraising look. “The Order has been hunting us for centuries, and they often use our relics against us. Shen have many relics that are still useful. Totems are our weapons and battle cloaks protect us. The gauntlet you are wearing is a relic. It pulls energy from the environment, using your body as a conductor. But it’s dangerous if you don’t know your limits. We created our most powerful artifacts in the first age before Shen were fracture—”

“Before the Burn,” Jack said, without thinking.

Laean paused for a moment before continuing. “We were more powerful then. The gauntlet comes from that first age, though it seems someone reworked it in the second age to resemble something appropriate for the time. Around the Thirteenth Century, probably. Who is your friend in the Order?”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know you well enough to tell you.” Jack moved into his bedroom, slipping the gauntlet off with a tinge of regret. The buzz of underlying energy drained away, and he sighed. He pulled out a pair of black cargo pants and a dark green, long-sleeve shirt. “Who’s wiping memories?” Jack called out from his bedroom.

“Where are you going now?” she asked.

“Mount Mora cemetery. Who’s wiping them?”

Jack walked back into the living room and picked up his hiking boots. Planting himself in the recliner, he slipped his feet into them and studied Laean. “Is it a Shen? A woman telepathy thing?” he asked.

“A woman thing?” she arched an eyebrow and stood. Jack forced himself to keep eye contact and not gape at the shape of her hips in the tight leather pants or the curves of her breasts in the low-slung peasant shirt.

“Thought manipulation,” he said, looking into her red eyes. Were they sparkling? Was that a crinkle of skin at the corner, the hint of a smile?

After a moment, she finally shook her head and let the smile loose, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth. “Most of the time I don’t need telepathy to manipulate a man’s mind.”

“I believe you,” Jack said. He swallowed hard and glanced down at his boots as he tied them.

“But, we are wiping them.”

Jack slipped his neutral interrogation mask on over his surprise and peered up at her. “It’s not the Shu?”

“No, not this time.”

“Who’s we?” he asked.

“Gai, my bonded, helps me with the emotion to ensure there is no psychological damage to the reconstructed and blocked areas. We are covering your tracks.”

“From Darean and the Shu?”

“And the Order,” Laean said, “Humans too, they’ll hunt us down if they discover what we are.”

Jack finished tying his boots and stood up, only a few feet away from her. She smelled like lavender with a hint of something underneath. Something wild.

“So how does this usually work then? The rebirth thing seems sloppy because my memories are a mess.”

“We never remember everything, that’s why we work together and keep journals and memory devices in the physical. But you didn’t finish your bond with Ann, so your memories are more fragmented than usual. If you don’t find her and finish the bond, you may never awaken. But this may help,” she said, holding out a leather-bound book with an image of a tree etched into the cover, “let me show you.” It looked like the world tree he saw in the cemetery with Millae. “Please,” Laean said when Jack leaned back, “open it. It may give you the answers you need.”

Reluctantly, Jack took the small brown leather book, making sure not to touch Laean’s hand. It was old and worn. He traced his finger over the etching of the tree.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Open it and tell me what you see,” she said.

Jack searched her face but couldn’t see or sense any ill intentions. Not that she couldn’t manipulate him like a child, but he didn’t think she was. Slowly, he peeled the front cover back.

Laean took in a slow breath, holding it, and whispered, “What do you see?”

He searched the page but saw only blank parchment. He flipped through several more blank pages. “Nothing,” he said.

She let out her breath. “Ah, well. The search continues then. You are Shen, but not who I seek. We will get you to safety and shelter you from the Shu, but I’m not sure…”

Her voice faded away, as if she were suddenly underwater, being swept away by a swift current. His hand tingled, and he was compelled to turn the page. The old parchment, textured and worn, made a shuffling sound under his fingertips as he swept it aside. Static electricity danced along the spine and twisted into the page. It writhed over the yellowed parchment line by line, filling in the blank space with written symbols he could not understand at first. But as he watched, his eyes watered and through this blurred vision, the symbols shifted into words he knew. The words solidified on the page and strands of blue-white static electricity leaped from the book to his hands, climbing up his arm.

“My name is Saeb Borlace…” the text began in a fluid but economical handwriting. He noticed Laean reaching for him, but it felt as if she were in a different reality. A voice in the back of his mind screamed for him to pull away, but he couldn’t. “Jack,” she said, her underwater voice even farther away. He tried to recoil, but his body would not obey. “I’ve found you,” she whispered into his ear as scorching yellow light engulfed the room.