Chapter 9

The forest was dense and dark. The only light came from the beams of the camera crews following the contestants.

Aedan was fuming. He snatched the map out of Cecil's hand as soon as they were out of the camp.

"Stay behind me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "And don't say a word."

He held the map up to the flashlight, squinting at the contour lines. He pointed to a trail that led up a steep ridge. "This way. I've seen this show before. They always put the beacon on the high ground."

Cecil didn't move. She stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "You are wrong," she said simply. "And I do not like your tone."

Aedan whirled on her, his patience snapping. "Wrong? I'm the one who can read a map! You're the one who thinks she can just boss people around! What do you want from me?! Why are you doing this?!"

He turned his back on her and started marching up the ridge, his boots crunching loudly on the dry leaves.

Cecil watched him go. She didn't chase him. She didn't yell.

She simply snapped her fingers.

The sound was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the forest.

Aedan felt a sudden, violent impact on the back of his knee. It wasn't a physical blow; it was a concentrated burst of energy.

His leg buckled. He let out a yelp of surprise as his balance deserted him. He pitched forward, his arms windmilling.

But he didn't hit the ground. Another force, invisible and firm, caught him mid-fall. It pushed down on his shoulders and lifted his other knee, forcing him into a position he didn't choose.

He landed on one knee, his back straight, his head bowed. It was a perfect, ceremonial kneel. Right there in the middle of the dirt path.

The camera operator zoomed in, the red light blinking. The live feed was broadcasting to millions.

The chat went wild.

Did she just Jedi mind-trick him?

He dropped like a sack of potatoes!

This is the best television I have ever seen.

Aedan tried to stand. He pushed against the ground, but it was like an anvil was sitting on his shoulders. He was pinned to the spot.

Cecil walked slowly around him, her footsteps barely making a sound. She stopped in front of him, looking down at his bent head.

She reached out and plucked the map from his limp hand. She unfolded it, glancing at the strange symbols and lines. She didn't understand the modern cartography, but she didn't need to.

She closed her eyes. She could feel it. A faint hum of technology in the distance. The beacon.

She opened her eyes and pointed down the hill, in the exact opposite direction Aedan had been walking. "This way."

The pressure vanished.

Aedan scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He brushed the dirt off his pants, his hands shaking. He wanted to scream at her. He wanted to shove her.

But he didn't. He just stood there, staring at her with a mix of fury and fear.

Cecil turned and started walking down the slope. She moved with an easy grace, ducking under branches, stepping over roots without looking down.

Aedan followed. He had no choice. He was seething, his pride in tatters, but he followed.

The camera operator followed behind them, struggling to keep from laughing out loud.

The path became overgrown. Thick, thorny bushes blocked the way. Cecil raised a hand, and the branches seemed to lean away from her, creating a clear path.

Aedan, trying to keep up, wasn't so lucky. A thorn scraped across his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. He hissed in pain, jumping back.

Cecil glanced over her shoulder. A tiny smirk played on her lips. "Clumsy," she murmured.

Before Aedan could retort, voices drifted through the trees. Angry voices.

Grove Greene's smooth baritone cut through the silence. "I said, we go this way."

Cecil stopped, her eyes narrowing. The oily feeling was back, stronger than before.