The Thought Keepers: Ability

Chapter 13: The Thought Keepers

West snapped his fingers, and a set of arched doors appeared in the middle of the left wall. The doors were pearlescent and white, with clear crystals for doorknobs. The Unnormal symbol gleamed in each mirrored window. 

"Go and find your answers, Zekara," West instructed, pointing at the entryway as if I couldn't see it myself. I threw the covers off, trying to ignore the rush of heat that came to my cheeks as a result of the fever. I hadn't gotten the antidote, so rushing off through a secret door that a Shade conjured up was admittedly not my best decision. 

However, my need to find Uncle Ethan outweighed that concern. I needed to see him, to make sure he was still alive. I couldn't think about what I would do if he wasn't. I just needed to find him. 

West stalked over to the closet door, opening it as if the entrance to another world lay within. With a smile and wave, he disappeared inside, closing it softly behind him. I stared at it for a while, but no matter how long I looked, he never came back. I knew he was gone.

I walked over to the white door and stood in front of it, contemplating my poor life choices. Trusting a Shade was such a bad idea. There was a good chance that walking through the door would result in my death. If West was sent by the person who wanted to kill me, or worse, he was the person that wanted to kill me, then I was an absolute goner as soon as I crossed the threshold. 

But still, I found myself wanting to go. The worst that could happen was that a trap was waiting for me. If I was half as powerful as Carson suggested, then I could find my way out of it. I could fight the Shades that attacked me, or die trying. No matter what, I wasn't gonna sit around and wait for Uncle Ethan to die.

I opened the door and stepped through, almost expecting to fall into another pocket dimension. Instead I was staring up at rows of towering bookshelves, each standing a good ten feet. Low-hanging ceiling lamps lit my way down the center aisle as I passed each section. The only other light in the archives were the little quartz stones embedded in the shelves, illuminating the books like mystical LEDs.

I never imagined that the Unnormal Archives would be such a dark place, considering how much Unnormals valued light. It seemed almost unnatural, like maybe I had entered a shadow dimension after all. I braced myself, waiting for Jokers to snicker and peer at me from around a corner, or for the room to freeze and alert me to the presence of Glaciers. After a while, it was clear there was no otherworldly presence, and that it was only the endless collection of books that I had to contend with. 

I didn't know where to start looking for the information I needed, so I kept looking through different sections, stumbling across descriptions of Unnormal abilities, mineral remedies and even etiquette manuals for new Council members. I grew more and more frustrated, not seeing anything about how to locate a missing person. How was I supposed to find anything when nothing was labeled? I needed a guide to the Archives; some kind of central map that could help me. 

As soon as I had the thought, a shelf ahead of me glowed like a beacon in the dark. I followed the light and paused, scanning the illuminated books. Map of the Unnormal Archives stood out immediately, and I grinned. 

The Archives weren't organized by alphabetical section, but by train of thought. The warfare section led to medicinal remedies for healing wounds, and the area for Unnormal abilities flowed into the ranking of Unnormals and their required etiquette. 

Following the guide's direction, I made my way to the far left, where the map section became records of missing Unnormals. I knew Uncle Ethan's disappearance was too recent to have its own file, but maybe there was a similar case that could help me figure out what happened. 

There were thousands of names, so many that several volumes were dedicated to the recording of them. What I found was that most missing persons were no older than the age of fifteen. Kids from around the world disappeared into thin air while their parents slept, or vanished in the middle of training. The few anomalies were adults with no specific abilities, of Bishop rank or lower.