Chapter 7

Go in, go in, go in!

The words, like a mantra, paraded through most of the minds of the two-hundred-odd students present in the gym, all of their eyes fixed on the single orange ball teetering on the rim of the basket. Silence settled like a stifling blanket across the enormous room, and sweat dripped down Steven's back like hot glaciers. It was the finals of the inter-high school championships, and twenty minutes into the second half, the score was at 56-60, Sweet Valley High. This three-point shot, made by Joe Howell, could be crucial. Steven regretted that the Coach had chosen this moment to put him on the bench…

Suddenly, an almighty wave of roaring and cheering yanked Steven unceremoniously out of his thoughts. Joe had scored! Steven clenched his fists and waved them in the air, beaming, celebrating with the rest of his school. They hadn't won the game, yet, but this basket made things look a lot brighter.

Basketball was an exhilarating, yet tiring game. But, Steven mused, this match and the enormous amounts of practice and preparation that had preceded it seemed like a welcome relaxation, compared to the amount of practice Kal had made him go through, before he could efficiently manage to control elements that were a little bigger than a jug-full of water. They had gone through some interesting defensive techniques, as well…

Steven leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on knees, keenly watching the game, though his thoughts were elsewhere. All living things, Kal had said, were governed by a single intangible force, an invisible living energy field, that took extreme skills to tap into. That skill, he had said, was what the Magic Clan had perfected. It involved opening up the seemingly rudimentary part of the human soul- a part that essentially belonged to nature, to this Energy Field, becoming a sentient part of it. The energy that could be derived from the mastering of that technique simply knew no ends; was boundless.

Sometimes, it was possible not just to use the Energy Field as a conduit in controlling the natural elements, but to tap into the Field itself. The power generated from such an attunement could be feasible weapon, as well as a means of defence. It took a lot of practice and patience, however.

The consequences of using that power depended mostly on the personality of the person exercising it. The Raydevils, tainted by their own greed and ambition, had used this attunement to achieve their own goals- to kill the other members of the Magic Clan. It had had disastrous consequences- so much so that it was nearly noticed by the world outside. Finally, however, the abuse of that power had led to the dormancy of their true selves- only the awakening presence of a person strong in the ways of the Magic Clan could revive them.

But it grew more complicated now, though. The descendants of the Raydevils had only the spirit of the Raydevil magic passed down to them, without the knowledge of what it was. It was almost like a totally different personality residing within them, coming to the surface unexpectedly and leaving just as rapidly, leaving them with no clue as to what had just possessed them.

It was a sorry state, but it couldn't be helped.

"Steven!" Coach Williams' voice once again pulled Steven out of his thoughts. "You're in, now." Steven nodded, and jogged onto the court, exchanging grins and high-fives with the player he was replacing. He could worry about the Magic Clan later.

He had a match to win, now.


"Elizabeth! Can't you listen for once?"

"Huh?" Elizabeth Wakefield snapped out of her reverie to stare at her friend, Danielle Smith, the pen she had been tapping against her cheek clattering down the bleachers. "Listen to what?"

"Me!" Danielle said, frustrated. "You've been staring into space for ages, now. I doubt you're even watching the game!"

Elizabeth shrugged, sitting up straighter in her seat. "I was just thinking."

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Right- thinking," she said sarcastically. "About what exactly, may I dare to ask?"

"Nothing in particular," Elizabeth replied, starting to feel a little annoyed. Danielle was a nice girl basically, but sometimes she just demanded too much attention. It was… stifling.

Danielle sighed. "At least pay attention to the game… hey, I think Steven's going for a shot!"

Elizabeth shifted her attention back to the match, in time to see Steven pounding down the court, the basketball in his hand only an orange blur between the gym's polished floor and his palm. Elizabeth watched, fascinated, as Steven sidestepped and manoeuvred around all opposition that came up before him, his team mates coming up and supporting him in perfect unison.

Basketball was the one thing Steven had always excelled at- the sport was a major passion of his, as was academics. People had wondered- still wondered in fact- how the two seemingly varying interests seemed to balance themselves in Steven Wakefield. They were assuming, of course, that basketball needs more brawn than brain, and vice-versa for studies. But in many ways, the two stimulated the brain in similar patterns- sometimes basketball even more so, since you had to make strategic decisions in a split second.

That's what Steven had told her, anyway.

But there was something within Steven that… that just made him be so. Something alluring, yet scary; distinct yet vague… Elizabeth had been sensing that in her brother for the past two weeks now, and that, coupled with his increasing introverted ness, made her suspicious. Also, the strange things he'd been talking to himself a few nights back- about somebody called Kal and some other crap… she had found it funny, had intended to express her amusement, but the horrified expression on Steven's face after she'd teased him only peaked her curiosity.

Something was definitely afoot.

It seemed to be the same with her sister, too- she'd been hanging around with Lila all day, giggling now and then, and gracing everybody she met with sly, sidelong glances; it was obvious she knew a secret that nobody else knew. Elizabeth sighed. I wonder how she managed to keep it secret for so long…Her sister's reputation as a gossiper was well-known.

She was brought out of her reverie as Danielle squeezed her shoulder in excitement. "Oh, look!" she said, her voice muffled thanks to the fingernails she had between her teeth, "I think he's going to shoot!"

Elizabeth watched, intent, as Steven came closer, and closer, closer… the opposition practically surrounding him. She wasn't sure if that was according to the rules- frankly, she was not anyone to talk about basketball- but the referee kept mum. Unable to outmanoeuvre them, Steven sent a subtle pass to Bruce, who was jogging in support by his side. With a grin, the 15 year old caught it neatly and pounded down the court, his way virtually clear. Elizabeth bit her lip. With the score tied and barely a few minutes left in the last half, this basket could very well win them the championships. As the screams of encouragement from the crowd grew louder, and the cheering of the cheerleaders more enthusiastic, Bruce ran closer and closer to the basket, an anticipatory grin on his face, until…

He tripped.

He fell sprawling and sliding across the polished wooden floor, the basketball flying up from his hands. The crowd gasped as a St. Joe team member leaped for it, as did Steven. They crashed, and fell to the floor in a tangle, the basketball within their midst. Steven was the first to untangle himself and he sprang up and across the court, dribbling the basketball, while the person he'd ousted got up and followed him fiercely with his team-mates.

Sweat slithered down Elizabeth's back and her eyes flitted to the gymnasium timer. Barely half-a-minute was remaining…

Steven ran, dodged, passed, received, dodged, dribbled.

Sixteen… Fifteen… fourteen…

Bruce once again ran up in support, along with Joe Howell, his face nearly tomato-red with embarrassment. The coach was silent for once, tense, while the cheerleaders screamed the Steven's name as high as they could, galvanising the crowd.

Ten… Nine… Eight…

Steven finally approached the basket, and half-crouched in preparation to shoot.

Six… Five… Four…

He leapt up, and just as the basketball left his fingers, an opposition member leapt in a try to obtain the ball, thereby spoiling Steven's aim. The basketball, instead of sailing in a smooth arc toward the basket, shot toward the dashboard. Elizabeth gulped in trepidation.

Three…

The ball slammed against the dashboard…

Two…

It thankfully bounced onto the rim, teetering…

One…

…swivelling indecisively…

Zero!

…before falling back onto the court.

The boos from the crowd reached a crescendo, shaking the very supporting rafters of the gym, while the screams of relief from the St. Joe high students matched them to every decibel.

"Overtime!" the referee announced, much to the relief of the SVH team. They immediately went to their positions, a stern glare from the coach enough to make them pull themselves back together effectively.

"Oh, come-on!" Danielle cried in frustration. "You have got to win this!"

Once again the excitement started- adrenaline pumped through her body as she watched the two teams on the court battling for the orange sphere. Not much time… she thought desperately, every movement of the clock's second hand feeling like a needle of despair being pushed further and further into her heart.

Finally, seemingly leaping out of the battle with the ball in his hands was Steven, like a dolphin breaking through the surface of the ocean. He threw the ball in a clean, short arc- this time a range he couldn't miss, and the ball slid neatly through the orange mesh of the basket, just as the shrill whistle of the referee sounded. After that, there was silence, until…

The gymnasium broke out into a riot of sound, colour and cheering.

Elizabeth and Danielle jumped up and danced, clutching each other and laughing weakly. This was the first time SVH had ever won the championships- a momentous occasion, if there ever was one. When they finally broke apart, Danielle had calmed down enough to say, "You didn't take notes for your article."

Elizabeth glanced at her notepad, lying on her seat, empty of the points she had planned to jot down to help her write the article covering the championships for the Oracle. She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I think I'll remember this game for quite some time to come!"

Danielle laughed and nodded in agreement, and the two of them went to join their friends in their euphoria. Elizabeth met her twin sister along the way. "Where's Lila?" she asked.

Jessica smirked secretively. "Attending to business." With that, she tossed her hair back and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a very confused Elizabeth staring after her. She glanced to the court where the team members had hefted Steven onto their shoulders, cheering themselves hoarse. She found herself unable to smile at the sight, suddenly, overcome by a wave of foreboding. Something was going to happen…

And she could bet her life that it was not going to be something good.


Life's good…

Steven sagged against the locker's shower-room wall contentedly, playing with the little globules of water from the shower. The rest of the team, after the presentation ceremony, had left quite a while ago, but Steven had stayed back for sometime, to savour the sweet taste of a hard-won victory.

Memories of the game played vividly in his head- every exciting, tense moment coming to life within his imagination. It had got to have been the toughest game he'd ever played, and he'd thoroughly enjoyed the challenge; even more attaining victory in it. Must thank Patman for making it even tougher, Steven thought, a wicked smirk curving his lips. Bruce tripping over his own feet while running for a crucial shot had to have been the best part of the game. Oh, the expression on Bruce's face… priceless!

Still chuckling, Steven let go of the globules from his power, and they splashed to the ground. Quickly pulling on a T-Shirt and jeans and hefting his sports bag on his shoulder, he made his way out onto the empty, darkened gym.

"Steven Wakefield."

Steven stopped short at the chilling voice, the incisive tone through which the syllables were spoken sending shivers down his spine. There was something just not right…

"Yeah?" he called out. "Who is it?"

There was a laugh. "For a descendant of the legendary Alisa McClaire, you are pretty dense."

Alisa McClaire! At the mention of his mother's name, his bag slipped from his slumped shoulders and fell to the floor with a thud. Steven's heart rate increased manifold, and he stood there, gaping, too surprised even to answer.

He saw a human figure – the owner of the voice, no doubt – drop to the floor ahead of him, from the bleachers. The silhouette stretched out his arms, and a glowing red light appeared in between them, sparking with power from The Energy Field, throwing shadows over his still unrecognisable face.

Steven's memory went into full gear. This was what Kal had warned him about- this guy was a Raydevil! "Shit," he whispered, taking an involuntary step back.

"Yes," the guy smiled, stepping forward, into the relatively lighter part of the gym. "Curse all you like, Wakefield, but you're not going to escape death."

The face… Steven thought, panicking, It's so familiar… Then he was finally able to place the face, and his breath immediately caught in his chest. No… it's impossible…

It was Bruce Patman.