Chapter Eight - DEX

                                    

                                          


                          
 Dex used to think being a Dizznee was a curse.
                          
	It was his secret—he'd never told anyone, not even his friends. It was just too... personal. He hadn't wanted to get them involved in his family drama, especially since most of his friends had their own problems to deal with. Dex should've been thankful for his amazing family. Sure, Rex and Kesler were Talentless, and his mom had kept her involvement with the Black Swan secret for years, but that was nothing compared to the Sencens, the Songs, or Marella's father.
                          
	Eventually he'd gotten over it. He was a Dizznee, and proud of it. The scorn didn't matter to him. The snotty eyebrow raises went right over his head. He had gotten over his insecurities about his family name, which meant maybe he could help some of his friends get over theirs.
                          
	Stupid idea, his brain warned him. The Vackers don't talk about their legacy.
                          
	It really was stupid. Every time the word "legacy" was mentioned, Fitz's fists would clench and he would take deep breaths, as if trying to hold back words. And Biana? She would just laugh it off and change the subject. Oh, the Vacker legacy doesn't matter. It's in the past now.
                          
	But it wasn't. Dex knew that better than anyone. It didn't matter if you manifested an ability when you were the kid of a Bad Match, and it didn't matter if your ancestors' mistakes were "in the past." The scorn followed you everywhere. The shame drowned out your thoughts.
                          
	Dex remembered lying in bed as a kid, imagining being a Ruewen. Or a Hafta. Mostly a Vacker.
                          
	It had been so hard meeting Fitz and Biana for the first time. All those sleepless nights, playing out a reality that was only in his head. He had hated himself for it—hated the fact that he couldn't accept himself. And then when he'd come face to face with his imaginary brother and sister, something in him had... snapped. From then on, he would not be ashamed. He would prove to everyone that he was just as good as any Vacker.
                          
	Then he'd actually met the Vackers—met Biana—and he knew that he couldn't be better. She was a sunrise—bright and hopeful and beautiful. He couldn't be that, but he could work every day of his life to try. She was his inspiration to be better.
                          
	He was only Dex, only a Dizznee, but that didn't mean he was helpless. He was one of the best Technopaths the Lost Cities had, and the third-best alchemist, after his father and Lady Galvin. And if he wanted a better world for him and Biana, if he could somehow prove his worth, he would do everything in his power to make that happen.
                          
	Today, he was attempting to make an addler from scratch. His dad had lent him an old model from when Kesler was younger, but it was broken, and Dex couldn't seem to fix it.
                          
	"What are you doing?" Rex's voice asked from the doorway, and Dex turned to look up at his brother. In the background Lex and Bex were arguing about who-knew-what, but Rex was often the quiet one of the trio. Well, ever since...
                          
	"Trying to fix this old addler," Dex said quickly, forcing his mind away from the memories. He lifted the chunky choker-like thing he'd been analyzing. Stray wires dangled from it, which explained the missing parts that littered the floor. "It's an old model, which is why it's so big, but I thought maybe if I saw how it worked I could figure out how the Purities mass-produce theirs. Except as soon as I took it apart something sparked—nearly started a fire—and now I can't put it back together."
                          
"The curse of being a Technopath," said Rex, joining Dex on the floor. "You only know how to break things instead of fixing them." He flinched as soon as he said it. "Wait, that sounded like an insult, didn't it? It wasn't meant to be an insult."