Convergence Point: Where Worlds Meet

Convergence Point

Laura Lemke

Copyright 2014 by Laura Lemke

Cover copyright 2014 emptycicada and beardorado

Smashwords Edition

To my friends and family who keep supporting me through all of this.

To Diane especially for being an amazing editor.

A special thanks to Lily for helping me find the joy in writing again.

Thanks so much.

Darkness there, and nothing more.

Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

CHAPTER 1:

Celia Grey was average. She was average height. She was average weight. And she had a boring, average life. She hated it. A nineteen year old girl always wanted to be a little different. The only thing that wasn't so normal about her was the fact that she was a psychic. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence by any means, but she was powerful. She had done the research when she was younger; psychics occurred about one in every five-thousand people in varying degrees of strength. She hadn't found any accurate way to describe the power she felt, just that it seemed to be more than what people talked about online. Her eyes, on the other hand, were rare. She had a golden ring surrounding her pupils. The rest of the eye was a cold blue gray – the eye doctor had called it central heterochromia. She had been told time and time again that they were unnerving to look at.

She sat on the edge of her bed, her backpack sagging against her leg. The vibrant red on the front portion of her hair curtained around her face almost fooling her mind into forgetting the mousey brown hair that sprouted from the rest of her head. Celia had seen the word pop up one too many times. Karmalink.

Being a psychic was something that could be traumatic for younger kids. Hearing words that you were never meant to hear, knowing more than you ever wanted to know about someone. The online support groups that Celia had found had been wonderful - but Karmalink had been mentioned far more often than anything else. She was one of the ones that seemed to lose control more than other psychics; it seemed better for her to go and find Karmalink before they wound up finding her.

She had just finished her research into what it was the night before. When she had finished, she had purchased a plane ticket. She pushed up to a standing position and grabbed her backpack with more force than she thought she could. She stomped down the stairs; she was trying to put on a brave face, but in all actuality, she was terrified.

Mom, I'm leaving.

Her mother peeked out of the kitchen, her pretty face creased with worry, ...Please tell me you're not chasing after Karmalink. Please.

Celia clenched her jaw and tried not to grind it, I have to. How could I not?

Because you found them on the internet? Because it’s dangerous? Because you're only nineteen years old? Because I'm afraid I'll never get to see you again?

She felt guilt roll in her stomach – like the food she had eaten was trying to escape. She had anticipated that her mother would be resistant to her only daughter running off after something she found on the internet. The guilt transformed into irritation.

The idea that her mother thought she was not capable bothered her to no end. Her older brother had been allowed to leave home, but she couldn't. She didn't need to use her psychic skills to understand that it was what her mother felt. Her mother had rationalized that it just wasn't right to have such a young girl living on her own. It would be too easy to be taken advantage of.

Mom...I'll be fine. You know deep down that you can't keep me here. I've saved up a bunch of money from my graphic design work. I can afford this. This could be a dead-end; this could be answers to so many of my questions. I can't sit and do nothing.

Celia whispered her goodbyes to her mother and booked it out the front door before she could protest anymore. Or before she lost her nerve. She had to do this quickly or she would lose her nerve and go settle into her desk again. Settle back into the boring, average routine. Wake up, do design work, check conspiracy theory forums, learn a few martial arts moves from YouTube, eat lunch, more design work. Boring. She thrust her keys into the ignition and made her way to the airport. Getting through security was pretty easy, which helped ease her nerves a little bit. Of course, the fact that she was only carrying on basics made it much easier. She only had a few sets of clothing, her laptop, and toiletries.

The plane ride gave her far too much time to think. Karmalink. Celia had been aware of the name since she was about fourteen years old, when she had started to frequent conspiracy theory web forums and

websites.

She had known from a very young age, as long as she could remember, that she was not quite normal. She had been able to hear other peoples' thoughts. Sometimes she saw bizarre things, but only for a flash at a time. Like the time she had seen a glimpse of what appeared to be a human – save for the vibrantly colored hair and bright wings that burst from his back.

It had been worse when she was not with her mother. She had found that if she was not with her mom and she was around something weird, that she would start to lose control of her power. This had been pretty traumatic to a teenager, so she had sought help on the forums. They had recommended finding a totem, something that would keep her grounded. Her hand flew up to her key necklace, her totem.

Karmalink had started popping up when she had started doing research into the weird flashes of things that were clearly not from her world. The further she delved into it, the more the name popped up. Karmalink deals with that kind of thing everyone had told her. The night before, she had managed to get a vague location fix on Karmalink. After years of having the name dangled over her, it seemed too perfect. Even so, she was not going to ignore it.

Celia shifted in her seat. The plane was going to

be landing soon. She was thankful. While it was not the first time she had taken a plane, it had certainly been one of her more nerve-wracking flights. She adjusted her black pants, her t-shirt, and grabbed her backpack.

The flight attendants' faces were stretched into fake smiles and she tried to school her face into a similar position. She just wasn't good at that kind of social interaction. She called her mom and let her know that the plane had made it there safely and that she was fine. She could feel the relief from her mother wash over her.

It was her first time in New Jersey. She was from the Midwest. The forums had warned her about the horrors of New Jersey; but she didn't care. Celia wasn't going to judge an entire state by what people on the forum told her. She hopped on a bus to Barbary – the city the vague coordinates had lined up with. It was a moderately sized city, not one she would have anticipated for something so mysterious as Karmalink. If it turned out to be nothing, she would hole up in a hotel for a few days and do some design work and bitch on the forums about how the coordinates had been wrong. Almost everyone on the forums had chased after something only to have it be a false lead. It was part of being a conspiracy theorist.

It was late afternoon when Celia arrived in Barbary. She was exhausted, but she wanted to explore the city a little bit. As she stepped onto the ground, a wave of emotion hit her. She couldn't tell if it was her own or if it was residual from some tragedy, but it made nervous energy dance all over her skin.

She clamped her hand over her necklace, the jagged edges of the key digging into her palm. She felt warmth bubble and grimaced; she had drawn

blood on accident. Again. Despite that, calm flooded over her and she was able to start walking. The sun was starting to set, casting an eerie, blood red glow over the otherwise charming city. Maybe that was setting her off.

Celia made her way towards the obvious center of the city. It’s not where she would hide a secret organization, but she wasn't everyone. There was tension creeping into her shoulders and neck and she couldn't help but throw glances over her shoulders – the distinct feeling of paranoia was overwhelming her. Thoughts were starting to creep into her mind despite the mental walls that she always had thrown up – thoughts about how she would look naked, thoughts about how distasteful it was when teenagers dyed their hair. She didn't want to be able to hear peoples' thoughts; usually it was better to ignore what was being thought. Psychics found out way more than they ever needed to know about people.

Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but she didn't want to stop moving. If she stopped moving, they would get her. She shook her head; Celia knew there was nothing after her. She wrapped her fingers tightly around the key pendent that hung from her neck and took a deep breath. A few more steps and there was pain erupting across her mind. It took all of her self-control not to cry out in pain. She settled with massaging her temples with her free hand. Another block later and she watched people start actively avoiding her; whether it was her appearance or the fact that they could feel her mental anguish, she didn't know. Her body was shuddering and she was sure

that she looked deathly pale. The slightest noise caused her to jump. She was being bombarded with thoughts she didn't want to hear.

Celia's legs gave out as she hit the middle of the city. Her mind was reeling from information; she was in so much pain that she couldn't stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks. As her head hit the ground, something clicked into place in her mind. Everything that had been happening to her, all the anguish, all the thoughts, was amplified. She let go of the key and clamped both hands to her forehead, an unearthly scream ripping from her throat as she blacked out.

CHAPTER 2:

Celia jerked awake. Her body was sore, like she had learned a particularly difficult martial arts move off of YouTube. She was most definitely not where she had been when she had passed out. There was a bright overhead light that made her eyes ache. She closed her eyes again, but the pain lingered. She tried to solve the puzzle that was her memory, but nothing was coming together. She unclenched her fingers and found that her hands were also in severe pain and bandaged. She could hear vague whispers around her, but couldn't make out what was being said – she couldn’t really tell if it was psychic chatter or actual people.

Oh, hey, she's coming around.

She jerked at the sound of the tenor voice. She hadn't realized that there were people around, but now that she thought about it she felt stupid. Celia opened her eyes, keeping them squinted to protect her eyes from the bright light. She could make out two figures; one was quite obviously male, the other could pass for either gender. She closed her eyes again as the pain spiked.

Yeah, might want to keep those closed for a bit, the tenor said again. Reactions like that tend to take everything out of you.

Where the hell am I? her voice was gravelly in her throat and she couldn't help but wonder how long she had been unconscious.

Oh, we're not answering that yet, a second voice said, this one a baritone. I think you've got to answer some questions first. What's your name? How old are you?

The tone of his voice told her that it was the best idea to answer his questions, My name is Celia Grey. I'm twenty-five years old. It didn't mean that she had to be entirely truthful.

She opened her eyes again, this time able to ignore the pain that flashed across her mind. While she was correct in assuming that one of the figures had a very androgynous frame, the people before her were very much male. While they were both attractive, the one she guessed was the baritone had a face that she couldn't help but trust. His hair was a dark brown, close to the color of good coffee, while his eyes were a bright blue. He wore a shirt that she could only describe as snazzy and well-fitted slacks. The other man had an attention grabbing look. His hair was long and dark green (she took a wild guess that he dyed it) and his eyes were a strange amber color. He wore a black, long sleeved button up shirt with a fitted, dark blue vest over the top of it. His pants were tight to his legs. His look was finished with a pair of combat boots.

Liar. There's no way you're twenty-five years old. You barely look old enough to be out of high school, the one with green hair bit out with a snort. "You're a psychic, pretty girl, did you forget that there

might be ones who are stronger than you?"

Celia felt her mouth go dry. She had thought about that many times, she had always wanted to meet more people who had the same caliber of power as she did. But she had been sloppy. Her guard was entirely down. She threw up her mental blocks and reached out cautiously with her mind. She watched as he rolled his eyes and then agony splintered across her mind.

Cheshire, no need to be nasty, the other man said with a light chuckle. However, might as well use those nice tricks of yours to get some information from her. She hasn't exactly proven herself to be trustworthy.

She wasn't about to let that man anywhere near her mind. She already knew that he could cause mental pain as easy as she breathed, she didn't want to know what he could do if he actually exerted effort.

Celia Grey is my real name. I'm nineteen years old. What else do you need to know?

What brings you to Barbary? his tone was casual, but somehow that felt more dangerous.

Uh...the word Karmalink. I found some coordinates after some extensive research. The coordinates were in the center of Barbary, so I figured that was a good place to start.

The man with brown hair stared pointedly at Cheshire for a moment. If she focused she could practically hear his displeasure with the other man.

What happened to me? I can...I can barely remember anything...

That happens, Cheshire said as he walked

forward and plopped into a chair before her; there was a cigarette dangling from the edge of his mouth – it was the first she had noticed the tiny cylinder. I'm sure you've figured out by now that it takes quite a bit of control to keep your powers reined in, yes? he paused, taking a drag from the cigarette, and she nodded. "There are certain points in this universe that make people