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order to kill.
    Skies, what was he thinking? If ever there was bad psi, this was it! Yens’s face turned from blue to purple, and the psi inside Taemon screamed to be released. He felt dizzy — dizzy with power, with the significance of his choice. Dizzy with fear.
    There was only one choice if he didn’t want to kill Yens. Hardly a choice at all. He fixed his mind on what he wanted.
    Be it so!
    The order came from some deep part of Taemon, beneath awareness and reason. Someplace where survival was all that mattered.
    Taemon’s body trembled as a vast amount of psi left him. Over the ringing in his ears he heard Yens gasp deep breaths. He watched as the color returned to his brother’s face.
    Then everything went completely dark.

The first day of the new school year was only a few days away and Taemon hadn’t even started his lock yet. A psi lock wasn’t that hard to make. For a person with psi.
    But Taemon had no psi. Not one shred. Not since the awful day one month and five days ago when he had almost killed Yens. Da was certain it was temporary, but Taemon knew differently. Somehow he had lost all connection with psi.
    Taemon had thought a lot about that moment, that split second when everything changed, wondering how it had happened. He remembered wanting to kill Yens, building up a huge amount of psi, and then changing his mind. The Heart of the Earth had deemed him unworthy of psi. That was the only reason he could think of for losing it.
    Maybe it was best this way. At least he didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone.
    Standing in Da’s workshop, Taemon stared at a box full of bolts and cams and latches that might be used to make a lock. The lock was due at the end of the week. Four days left to figure out how to make a lock that didn’t need psi. He let out a huff.
    Da stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. “We could make something that looks like a lock, but isn’t.”
    Taemon shook his head. “The teacher will know. She’ll test it.”
    Mam walked in the workshop. “Any progress?”
    “Not yet.” Taemon sighed.
    “I can talk to your new teacher,” Da said. “I’ll tell her you’re still upset about the accident.”
    Taemon shook his head.
    “We’ll tell her that you have trouble using psi in front of people,” Mam said. “We’ll tell her you’re really shy and —”
    “No,” Taemon said. Would they ever stop treating him like a baby? They seemed to think that being powerless was the same as being an infant. “I’m going to figure something out. Some way to trick them.”
    Mam and Da exchanged a look. Da placed a hand on Taemon’s shoulder. He shrugged it off.
    “Son,” Da said, “it’s time to find your psi again. You have it inside you somewhere. All you need is confidence. Just because Yens’s psi is so strong doesn’t mean —”
    “Can we please not talk about Yens?” Taemon said. Since the accident, Yens’s psionic ability had skyrocketed. All that experimenting he’d done must have paid off. Or maybe Taemon’s weakness gave Yens more confidence. Whatever the reason, Yens was beginning to really stand out. He’d been named captain of his psiball team. He’d taken the golden urn at the young musicians’ festival. All this while Taemon was trying to figure out how to zip his own fly without asking Mam to do it for him.
    “You might as well accept it,” Taemon said to Da. “I have no psi. None.”
    “Shh!” The door slammed shut with Mam’s psi. “If someone heard that, you’d be carted off before first light.”
    Taemon frowned. “Don’t worry: no one will know. I’ve faked it this far, haven’t I?”
    It was true. In just four weeks, Taemon had learned to deceive neighbors, friends, and people at church. Sleight-of-hand tricks worked well. And magnets often came in handy.
    Most people figured he was clumsy and slow since the accident. No one seemed to suspect that Taemon was powerless. Probably because no one had ever spent much time around a