Page 142 of White Lights
“Okay, where does this power come from?”
“Some’s innate, some earned,” Yael says. “You came in with your natural divine power. And everything you learn and do at Acheron either builds or draws on it a little more. Some mentors chose well, and their protégés are founts of power. Others, like yours truly, got fucked.”
“So, one side can draw on this power when they need it,” Dez asks, “and give it back when they have some to spare?”
It sounds kind of nice. Like good relationships should be structured. Like intimacy at its best. Sometimes one has extra bandwidth; sometimes you need some lent your way.
“In theory that’s how it works,” Yael says, “though the balance is delicate. Most mentors know how to manipulate the power flow so that it only moves in one direction.”
“How do they do that?” Simon asks.
“In the early days, sabotage is common,” Yael explains. “Mentors need you to fear them a little bit, always. To give of your power more freely than you’d ever ask for theirs.”
“That’swhy you were upset when Alice left?” Dez says. She feels dizzy, though she’s yet to sip her drink. “It’s not because you cared for her; it’s because … you wanted to use her?”
“Don’t hate the player,” Yael says, polishing off Esther’s wine. “Hate the game.”
“And when you offered to help me with my films,” Dez says, thinking …
Yael looks down at her drink.
“You weren’t just being nice,” Dez says. “Were you?”
“I’m minus a protégé. And you were lacking a mentor. Maybe you still are.”
“You don’t care about me,” Dez says, finding it somewhat of a relief to put her suspicion into words. She thinks about Jet offering to helpher, too, even though he’s Simon’s mentor. But she doesn’t want to hurt Simon by mentioning that now. “None of you care about anyone.”
“Look, Dez,” Yael says coolly. “I’ll level with you. Acheron is the place to be if you want immortality, the gift of flight, soul-bending orgasms, and a backstage pass to the Divine. But if you want to be loved, go home.”
Nope. Not an option either.
Dez feels ill, like she’s heard too much and also not enough.
She hadn’t come to Acheron to be loved. Not by any means. She came here to make great films, which she’s doing. Beyond her wildest imagination. And so much more. But the idea thatno onecares about her here—by design—that no one cares aboutanyone? It leaves her feeling empty, then ashamed.
Unlike Yael and Simon, Dez is still human. If she gives that up to ascend, will she also be giving up the human instinct to connect with others, to be seen, to be loved? Tonight, on the mountain, Dez felt connected to Rafe. Not that he loved her—and she doesn’t love him—but she felt close to him when they were flying, when they faced the Veil together, when she had her hands on his wings. It felt like more than just getting off.
“Why would Rafe need power from me?” Dez asks. To her, he seems all powerful, needing nothing from anyone. Least of all her.
Then Dez remembers his goal. How there is one thing he really wants.
“The Angel of Death,” she says slowly. “All of you are fighting for it.”
“Not me, not anymore,” Yael says darkly. “But yes, everyone else.”
“And you get power from your protégés,” Dez says. “Like parasites.”
“And you’re strapped in with the hungriest parasite of all,” Yael says. “Rafe’s had a chip on his shoulder ever since the Garden. He wants vengeance, or something like it. And you showed up to make all his dreams come true.”
“What power do I have that could help Rafe become the Angel of Death? I can barely make Life Review films—”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Yael says. “Rafe needs you. Why else would he have staged that elaborate catastrophe at the Dairy Barn?”
Dez stares at her roommate, the words like cotton in her mouth. “What did you say?”
Yael stares at Dez like she’s wanted to say these words for a very long time. “You didn’t know Rafe was the puppet master of that unforgettable evening? Setting everything up so first you’d turn on your brother? And then, when a sexy stranger showed up and said you’d been selected for the mysterious program of your dreams, you’d have nothing to lose and everything to gain? If I may, Dez, what kind of fucking idiot are you? Does that sound like a naturally occurring phenomenon?”
“Shut up,” Dez whispers, clutching her hands to her head. “I don’t believe you.”
