Alizarin Crimson

by Erica Millard

  I didn’t say anything, and she switched tactics.

  “You need someone to help you develop your powers,” she said.

  I folded my arms around me. “Leslie’s helping me.”

  “Oh, Leslie, in her quaint little house full of Aolians from all across the country. Does she still prescribe meditation to the more explosive Aolians?”

  I shrugged.

  “You could learn so much from me. You could be so much stronger with me. When I first discovered my Talent, everyone was disappointed. I was a Terraformer with the ability to manipulate only a few substances. But I worked hard, and now I can do so much more.”

  “Like I said, I’m okay where I am.”

  Dune smiled like I’d just said something witty while eating cupcakes at a bakery.

  I flinched as the window next to me split with a loud crack. “What—?”

  The glass shattered, exploding outward toward me in a million tiny arrows. The light around me split, like the actual air had broken along with the glass.

  Yep, I’m dead.

  But the glass stopped mere inches from my face. Each shard, from the ones smaller than a spinach seed to the ones bigger than a kitchen knife, spun like delicate pieces of snow falling around me. I glanced down and found the pieces only inches from the whole front side of my body and I assumed my back as well. If I moved the glass would pierce my skin, and I tried not to even breathe. The spinning particles fragmented my view of Dune and split her into a thousand images.

  In those few seconds I realized how strong she was, how powerful. Back in Grand Central, I’d called the red to me, but then I’d lost control. Dune would never make that mistake. The glass would only perform what she commanded.

  “Leslie has always been afraid of how powerful she could be,” Dune said. “She hides her Talent and tries to muffle it. I embrace what I can do, and I can teach you to do the same. With me as your guide, you can crush any other Talent.”

  “Like you?” But I instantly regretted the words.

  The shard closest to my right eye glided forward. I didn’t move. If I flinched, the glass surrounding me would bite into my flesh.

  I turned my head ever so slightly to the left. The razor edge slid along my cheek, splitting open the skin above my ear and into my hairline.

  I didn’t scream; that’s what Dune wanted.

  The red dripped down my skin. Even though it was the red of my blood, it was still red. I only needed a few drops.

  I found the largest piece of glass in my line of sight and I pushed my blood forward, spreading it out into a thin layer over the fragment.

  Now it was mine.

  With my power, I flung the knife-sized fragment out of the flickering wall straight at Dune. The pieces around me froze. Without even moving her hands she stopped my weapon midair before it could slam into her chest. I maintained my forward pressure against her.

  I knew she could stop it. My red was so insignificant when compared to the mass of the glass, but I wanted her to know what I could do, that I could use her own weapons against her. She flicked the piece with her Talent and it hit the wall, shattering.

  I braced for another attack, but it didn’t come.

  “Yes,” Dune said. “You’ll do nicely. We could be unstoppable, just like your dad and I were.”

  I didn’t have time to process her words before the glass surrounding me lifted up and soared back to the window. The outside pane still stood complete, and this inside one aligned with it once again. I didn’t know much about glass, but I thought it had to be heated to super high temperatures to mold. The shards and pieces joined back together and made a perfect, smooth pane, as if it had never broken. Dune lifted the shattered remnants of my blood-covered glass knife last and pushed them into the window. It shimmered red where my blood would forever be mixed with glass.

  Dune reached out and ran her finger across the surface. “So beautiful.” She turned to me and pulled a card out of her jacket pocket. “I know you don’t like my methods, but believe it or not, I’m not the bad guy here. When you realize I’m right, give me a call.” She closed the distance between us in four heel-clicking steps. I stepped back without thinking, and she smiled when she noticed.

  I took the card.

  Without another word, she turned and strode back down the long hallway. She stopped at the curve and turned back.

  “Try not to keep me waiting,” she said. “I’ll give you a month before we might just decide you’re not worth the effort. Don’t assume you can trust any nice person you come across.”

  “Like you?” I said.

  “I’m not nice.” She disappeared behind the white wall.

  The card in my hand didn’t have an address or email like on a normal business card. It had a single phone number written in silver under her one-word name: Dune. I slipped it into my pocket.

  I stumbled numbly into the bathroom, just going through the motions. How much of what she’d said had caught me off guard? My dad worked with the people who attacked me. Was Leslie really involved in my father’s death? And what was that bit at the end about not trusting nice people?

  After using the restroom, I splashed water onto my face. My cut was no longer bleeding, and it wasn’t deep, which was probably intentional on Dune’s part. I pulled my hair over the cut and hoped Liam wouldn’t notice. How long had I been gone? Liam was waiting for me in the lobby. He didn’t say anything about me being gone a long time.

  I’d been riding a serious high when I found the dots on Van Gogh’s page, but now I could barely think about where I was.

  We walked in silence, and I couldn’t help but go over my conversation with Dune.

  “Did you enjoy seeing the Van Goghs?” Liam asked after we went a few blocks.

  “Yes. It’s exactly what I needed.” What I didn’t need was a whole conversation of cryptic half messages by a lady who, despite being beautiful, reminded me of a pit bull.

  I should ignore her. In my notebook was a message, a real message from Van Gogh, and if I wasn’t completely crazy, it was a message to me. I needed to get home so I could work it out, but that would mean ending my day with Liam. I could ask him to read it, but I didn’t want him to know where I found the message. But I would never be able to enjoy the rest of the day when all I could think about was Van Gogh and my imminent death if I didn’t join some psycho Aolian faction prone to using scare tactics instead of logic.

  Sigh.

  I really couldn’t take my Aolian troubles out on Liam.

  “I wonder what time the train leaves,” I said.

  At the exact same time Liam said, “Aya, about earlier . . .”

  He stopped. I stopped.

  “What about earlier?” I said.

  At the exact same time he said, “I’m not sure about the train.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and he did, too.

  “What were you going to say?” I said.

  “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Anyway, I thought I was going to take you back.”

  “I totally love your car, but making you drive three hours there and back seems a little silly when I can just take the train.”

  “I don’t mind. What else do I have to do tonight?”

  “What? You don’t have to study Chinese today?”

  “Not unless it’s Chinese takeout.”

  “You are just trying to get me to stay by offering me food, aren’t you?”

  “Would it work?” A smile crept across his face in an infuriatingly adorable way.

  Just then his phone rang.

  “It’s my dad. Hang on.” He tapped his phone. “Hello, sir.”

  Weird. The joking Liam I knew disappeared. He stood up like he was at attention and his words were clipped.

  “I’m in the city. Yes. No, Aya and I went to the Museum of Modern Art this afternoon. No, of course I didn’t forget. I’ll be there. Yes, sir. Goodbye.” He hung up and stared at the screen for a few moments. “Sorry about that.”

 
; “What did your dad want?”

  “Nothing. You know, to control my whole life.”

  “Oh, just the usual then?” I said.

  “Yeah. Wasn’t I trying to convince you to eat Chinese with me tonight?”

  I wondered what his father said on the phone. Liam’d been gone for half the day yesterday and now it was already afternoon. I didn’t want him to get in trouble with his dad.

  “I’d love to, but I really need to get back. I have a ton of stuff to do before I go back to school on Monday. And it takes a while to get back there, so I should leave soon.”

  “Okay,” Liam said. “But you’ll be at school on Monday right?”

  “I’ll be there.” I fiddled with my new necklace.

  “Since you like Van Gogh, you should really try to go to the Musee De’Orsay in Paris. They have almost a full floor dedicated to him.”

  “I keep reading that so many of his paintings are in the permanent collection. Wait, have you been there?”

  He was quiet for a few moments. “Yes.”

  Maybe he was thinking about how I’d yelled at him last night for being able to afford to go to art school, and didn’t want to rub it in.

  “That’s amazing,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”

  “It’s a beautiful city.”

  And then there was that certain notebook in my bag. Maybe Liam could help me figure it out? But what would I tell him it was? Maybe I should just try Googling it first.

  “You don’t know French in addition to Mandarin do you?” I said as playfully as I could, like it would be totally normal to know that many languages.

  “French? Yeah, actually I do.”

  “Really?”

  “I told you, my dad is all sorts of fanatical about me knowing stuff like that.”

  “Uh, how many languages do you know?”

  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Seven.” He seemed embarrassed.

  “Wow! I wish I spoke that many—even two. We had a foreign exchange student in my school who spoke five, and I thought that was insane, but seven . . . Which ones?

  “English, Spanish, Catalan, French, Russian, Italian, and I’m still not that great at Mandarin.”

  “I’ve never heard of Catalan,” I said feeling really stupid.

  “Catalan is the language they speak in Barcelona, where my mom lives. It used to be called Catalonia before it became a part of Spain.”

  “Say something in Catalan,” I said and Liam wrinkled his nose. “Come on! I’ll say something in Montanan for you!”

  “Montanan? What do they speak in Montana?”

  “Catalan first,” I said.

  He took a deep breath. “Els homes fan àngels ploren amb mentides i promeses que no poden complir. Si tan sols pogués ser alguna cosa que no sóc.”

  I gaped at him open-mouthed. What was it about guys speaking other languages that was so hot?

  He laughed at my expression.

  I shook my head a little. “What did you say?”

  “I don’t know . . . something about how we should go to dinner next week.”

  “I’d like that,” I said, unable to curb my smile. But that was okay since the same happy smile lit Liam’s face. “How many times have you been to Paris? By the way, I haven’t been anywhere, so if I start annoying you with questions, you are more than welcome to tell me to shut up.”

  He laughed. “I’ve been to France a lot. That’s one of the places my mom likes to go. I often meet her there for a few weeks for my obligatory mom time. She usually rents a villa in the country, so I’ve been there more than Paris.”

  “My mom and I go do yoga in the park when it is warm,” I said as if this was the equivalent of spending weeks at a time in France.

  “I know you will probably find this hard to believe, but I’d much rather do yoga in the park with my mom than go to the villa.”

  It was hard to believe. My mom and I had always been friends. That’s not to say that she didn’t tell me no when I wanted to do stupid stuff or that she didn’t embarrass me in front of my friends, but I understood her. I think this wasn’t about yoga in the park, but about the fact that I always knew I was the most important thing in my mom’s life. I didn’t think Liam had that.

  “I can see that,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I’d turn down a trip to France.”

  “Weren’t you going to say something in Montanan?”

  “Oh, yeah, um . . . Hey, do you want to go mountain-biking?”

  “What? That’s random.”

  I shrugged. “I just said something in Montanan.”

  “You, my friend, are nuts,” Liam said.

  “I try.”

  We both headed in the direction of Grand Central with no mention of taking the subway. It wasn’t that far to walk, and I think neither of us wanted the day to come to an end. Well, that’s why I didn’t mention the subway. I hoped Liam felt the same way. Eventually we turned onto the wide sidewalks of Fifth Avenue.

  “Have you considered staying at art school for your senior year?” Liam asked as we passed by a window display of impossibly high heels.

  “No.” I kept forgetting Liam must think my art was still the most important thing in the world for me. It would be nice. “It was easier to think of this as a temporary thing. A whole school year is a big commitment. And my scholarship runs out at the end of the summer.”

  The closer we came to Grand Central, the more worried I became about what’d happened the last time I was here. Maybe I should have let Liam drive me. No, that would have been silly.

  From the outside the building appeared as it always had, but it was the people who seemed different. They just had a strange look, like they mistrusted everyone they met. That was my fault.

  “Crazy about the attack here,” Liam said.

  “Totally.”

  “It’s just good no one was seriously hurt. It could have been so much worse.”

  Yeah, someone could have been dead because of me.

  There were now signs everywhere, like at the airport, saying not to leave bags unattended. Liam came with me to the counter as I bought my ticket. There were also metal detectors for the outbound commuter trains where there had been none before.

  The conversation with Dune seeped into my thoughts. Were others really trying to find me? In this crowded place, each gaze seemed to linger just a little too long on me and the faces were more sinister than they’d been before. The more my fear took hold, the more the red in the room called to me.

  I wouldn’t lose control.

  It was easier without all the red in my body.

  We walked to where the line for the metal detectors started. In front of me, everyone was cursing the wait, saying they were going to miss their trains.

  “I hope these stupid checks don’t last long,” the guy in front of me mumbled.

  I turned to Liam.

  “Thank you so much for taking me to the museum,” I said. “It was exactly what I needed.”

  “You’ll be at school on Monday, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll see you then.” He took a step forward like he was going to hug me, but then he stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “See you.” But I couldn’t resist. I threw my arms around him, making sure no part of my skin touched him. He smelled faintly of grass and shampoo. At first, he was stiff with surprise, but then he took a deep breath before his body softened and fit against mine.

  21

  More fully or rather more universally done by the more universal knowledge we have and possess of colors of Prism and their properties.

  —Vincent van Gogh

  I sighed with contentment.

  “Are you sure you won’t let me drive you home?” Liam whispered in my ear.

  “It’s not a big deal to ride the train.”

  He sighed. “Okay.”

  “See you Monday?” I said.

  “Monday.”r />
  I let go of him and stepped up to the metal detector. After I went through I turned back and I waved at him. He waved back, but a sad smile crept across his face. And then he was gone.

  As soon as I sat down on the train, I fished my sketchbook out of my bag and stared at the letters I’d written on the page.

  I typed it in, letter by letter into my phone search engine. Nothing. Then I put it into a translator software. Nothing. Blast. I would have to wait until I could get on a real computer to divide up the words. I typed in the word Aolian. It just brought up some stuff about the Greek god and some geologic weathering process involving wind. The word Talent was way too broad. I leaned back against my seat and watched the buildings and trees flash by. The items close to the train were impossible to focus on, and soon made me sick. But I could watch the brick or wood farther away comfortably until it moved out of view.

  I tried not to think about my name within that page. It had to be some kind of coincidence. It had to be.

  I texted Kendra to see if she could pick me up at the train station, but she was spending the night with her Grandma. Maybe I should have thought of this before I turned Liam down for a ride. I could always ask Andy or Scott. Both would be super awkward. Scott seemed to know what was going on, so maybe I could get some information out of him. I found the number to Scarborough Bed and Breakfast and called him. He agreed to meet at the station.

  Is it possible to procrastinate thinking about something? Because I was doing anything I could to not think about what Dune had said. She wanted me to join her in doing what?

  What about Leslie? I’d never thought about it until Dune mentioned it, but it’d be expensive to keep Aolians at her house, and I’d never seen anything about paying room and board. I’d trusted her because of my dad’s letter, but Dune said she’d known him also. Most of Dune’s statements were so ridiculous, I shouldn’t believe anything she said. What I really needed was a place to do some research, because it didn’t seem like the Internet was going to be much help. I had to make some decisions on my own.

  I was the only one who exited at Scarborough Station.