The Descent into the Maelstrom (The Phantom of the Earth Book 4) Read Online Free

day.” She paused and lowered her voice. “Let’s see how you handle a Granville world.”
    A silhouette of an adolescent girl’s body formed on the sand. As the three-dimensional image focused, Oriana understood she was in the Granville world. How strange to be suspended in House Summerset and standing with the candidates and feeling the sand with her toes all at once!
    “This Granville sphere is part of the third-generation variety used by consortiums throughout the commonwealth,” Isabelle said. “You’ve seen the smaller spheres and flattened variations of Granville syntech in your developer’s houses, no doubt.” The candidates agreed with nods and yeses. To Oriana, Isabelle said, “Where were the spheres invented?”
    “Palaestra,” Oriana said.
    Lady Isabelle circled her. “And what do the scientists and engineers in Palaestra believe?”
    “Everything you can imagine is real.”
    “What is it you imagine, child?”
    Beads of perspiration gathered over Oriana’s face. She thought of the holographic artwork in her room, the one with falling leaves and roses surrounding the First Aera, who stood by a stream, clouds overhead. She imagined the silver necklace around Aera’s neck, the shuriken in her hand, the radiance in her amethyst eyes that made Oriana imagine she was Aera.
    And Oriana wished that Aera was with her now.
    “I know what you see, child, for in this world I know all.”
    Oriana turned to Lady Isabelle.
    “Override my Granville world. Pull the rest of us into your vision and let us see what you see. This would be the mark of the champion on day one.”
    Oriana couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run, to be anywhere but in front of the trimester class with the towering Lady Isabelle who demanded something she could not do, a skill the Summersets had never taught, an ability she did not understand. Did Lady Isabelle presume she had learned about the ZPF? That she had trained with Granville panels and spheres? Should she have trained with them? Had the Summersets led her astray? Set her up for failure? Doomed her to life in a lesser territory, or worse—the Lower Level?
    Gods , Oriana thought, I hate them for this!
    “An ominous introduction, Miss Oriana,” Isabelle said near her ear, her voice soft and fierce. “Not even your Aera will be able to save you during the Harpoons. You’re relieved.”
    She scurried back to Pasha, biting back sobs.
    The whispers resumed until Lady Isabelle declared, “Falcon Torres! Come hither!” Falcon moved with the stride of a champion, the stride of a boy developed by the house synonymous with champions, House Variscan.
    “I want you all to learn from Miss Oriana’s failure.” Isabelle strutted around Falcon’s godly physique and eyed the candidates, her boots clicking over the wooden deck. “I want you to understand that your capability to interact with the ZPF and with Beimenian technology is vital to your and humanity’s survival.” She raised her arms. “Falcon Torres, I want you to enter my Granville world and breathe the arid air, run along the sand, ascend the platforms, all the way to the orb.”
    The clouds above and below the candidate stadium darkened. The Granville sphere glowed bright, and the atmosphere it generated in the world above whirled into a frenzy. Lightning clapped the water, the platforms, and the black buildings.
    Falcon stood calmly, his eyes determined, his bluish-brown hair brushed to a ridge atop his head, like a striker. He balled his fingers into fists and lowered his head. The ramblings among the candidates picked up once more when he materialized in the Granville world, and the bolts ceased, the clouds lightened and parted, and the sun’s rays struck the oasis, platforms, and skyscrapers.
    “Yes,” Isabelle said, “candidates, learn from Falcon Torres.” Falcon sprinted across the sand. By the time he reached the shore, the sun had set and the moon rose with the night. “Open your minds to the possibilities