“You can’t!” Ryan put his hands to his temples. “You can’t! His name is Nox! It means ‘night’ and you like it. I know you do!”
“All right, all right,” Alison grumbled. “I’ll name him Nox.”
“Nox!” The bird popped into a water snake shape and swirled happily about. Ryan could see his bedspread through the rippling scales. “Nox! Box fox phlox socks Nox!”
Feeling immensely better, Ryan sat down on the bed. “We need to figure out why we can’t talk about the water woman.”
Alison gasped and pointed at him. “You just did! You talked about her. Do it again!”
“The woman said, Your words about us fair folk will evaporate just as I do, and none but you shall hear them.”
“You and your perfect memory,” Alison said. “It sounds like we can talk about her with each other, but not with anyone else. So what are fair folk?”
“Fairies,” Ryan said.
“No!” Nox piped up. He reared his head back. “Bad word! Ugly word. Use good neighbors or star people or fair folk.”
“It doesn’t seem very fair to me,” Alison objected. “She tries to kidnap Ryan, but we get cursed for it. How is that fair?”
“Fair is an old word for pretty,” Ryan said.
“This has got to be the weirdest birthday ever.” Alison rested her chin on her hands. “What’s that new mark on your hand?”
He held it up. The blue design still showed in a quarter of the raised circle. “I don’t know. The voice said very good and called me a prince.”
“What voice?”
“The voice in my head.”
“You hear voices in your head? Doesn’t that mean you’re crazy?”
“I’m not crazy!” Ryan traced the circle. “I just heard it, that’s all. Like a dream voice. I’m not a prince.” He paused. “It’s weird how the design and the voice showed up right after we defeated the water woman.”
“Why did she attack you in the first place?”
“Does Nox know?” Ryan asked.
They both turned to the watery snake. Nox flicked his tongue at them. “No,” he said. “Mistress wanted to go after Time Child, so we make plan to go after Time Child. Nox never knew why or what she wanted.”
“Time Child,” Alison repeated. “Do you mean Ryan?”
Nox nodded. “Mistress wants to steal him away and do something bad. Mad, sad, bad!”
“Do you want to do that now?” Alison asked.
“Do you?” Nox countered.
“No!”
“Then Nox doesn’t, either.” He rippled across Ryan’s bed, changed into a duck, and nibbled playfully at Alison’s fingers. “Nox!”
“You sure like that name.” Alison stroked his feathers, and Nox closed his eyes. “What did you see in the future that was so bad, Ryan?”
Ryan froze, and all his words fled. He hated that, but nothing he did seemed to help, and he couldn’t do anything except stare at Alison. Alison took out her phone and tapped letters with her thumbs. This fascinated Nox, who leaned over to look at the screen.
“Letters!” he shouted, fluttering his wings. “Many letters! And so fast! Last, cast, aghast. Fast! Mistress is powerful magician.”
“Not so loud,” she said. “Someone will hear you. And call me Alison. Mistress is for creepoids.”
“What is creepoid?”
“Never mind.” She sent the message. Ryan’s phone vibrated. He stood up and opened it.
Tell, read the screen. Tell me everything you can.
It’s hard to remember, Ryan texted back. It was bad.
What do you remember?
Ryan took a deep breath to calm himself. Shakily, he tapped out, I saw a huge fire. I saw you fight a rock. I saw our families trapped in crystal. And I saw total destruction from someone who loves me.
His chest felt tighter and tighter with every letter. He tapped SEND, then flung the phone aside and stuck his arms straight out on either side of him. Rotating his wrists, he rocked sideways with little leaping motions. Alison ignored him and read the message.
“I fight a rock?” she said. “How can anyone fight a rock?”
Ryan closed his eyes and continued to move his body in a perfect pattern. The world, the chaotic, terrible world, did not have regular, comforting designs in it. Creating one himself might calm him down.
“Geez,” Alison said. “You haven’t done that in two years. You’re really freaked.”
“Freaked,” Nox said, and Ryan opened his eyes.
Alison took a deep breath. “You saw total destruction,” she said. “Does that mean we’re all going to … die?”
“The whole world was gone,” Ryan said. “The whole universe was gone. The whole function of time as a quantum existence was gone.”
“That sounds bad.”
“It’s bad. It’s bad. It’s bad!
Nox popped into a crab shape and scuttled behind Alison, who held up her hands. “Okay, okay. Don’t shout. You’ll get your aunts and dad up here.”
“It happened because of someone who loves me,” Ryan said. “That can’t be. Someone who loves me can’t kill me. But I saw it.”
“Who was ‘it?’”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see who it was. I just … knew. We’re all going to die.” He grew more agitated. “The whole universe. All the universes.”
“Shut up,” Alison said.
That stopped Ryan. “You’re not supposed to say ‘shut up.’”
“And you’re not supposed to scare your friends. And you’re not supposed to be stupid.”
“I’m not stupid!”
“Then how come I figured out how to save the universe before you did?”
“Humans fight funny,” Nox observed from behind Alison.
Ryan stared at her. “How?”
“You stopped me from spilling my milk at breakfast, right? And you told me what I was going to say, but I didn’t say the whole thing, right?”
“Right,” Ryan said, still puzzled.
“That means the future can be changed, dummy. So all we have to do is figure out how to change the futures you saw and we’ll save the universe. There!”
Ryan thought about that and decided she was right. “Okay. So what do we do?”
Alison sighed. “You’re no fun to win a fight with. And I don’t know what to do. Yet. All this weird stuff is happening on our birthday. Do you think it has something to do with that?”
“And tomorrow’s Moving Day,” Ryan said.
“Oh yeah—I forgot.” Alison reached behind herself and took Nox into her lap. He changed into a seagull and fluffed his feathers. “Are you scared about it?”
“No. Mom and Aunt Ysabeth and Aunt Zara go away every year.” A thought occurred to him. “And if they aren’t here, they can’t kill me, right?”
“Right,” Alison said. “But just to be safe, maybe we should stay inside for a while.”
“Ryan! Alison!” came Dad’s voice up the stairs. “Everyone outside for the birthday barbecue!”
CHAPTER FIVE
The plastic cup scooted a little closer to the edge of the table. Ryan eyed it nervously. Next to him, Alison was shoveling down potato salad and didn’t seem to notice Nox was making a break for it.
“Are you sure it’s okay with your mom that you’re here, Alison?” Dad asked.
“Yep,” Alison replied. “She doesn’t care how much time I spend over here. Even on my birthday.” The last part she added in a softer voice. Ryan wondered if that was supposed to mean something—it usually did—but he couldn’t figure out what it was. This possible misunderstanding and Nox under the cup made him uncomfortable, and he cast about for something to make himself feel better. Old patterns always worked.
“Do you know what my favorite Flashcard Battle Brawl episode is?” he asked everyone at the table.
“Episode MG01,” Alison said at once. “Hoshi dies.”
“And the Megamaidens take him to Valhalla,” Ryan added.
&nb
sp; “My, my,” said Aunt Zara, “I’m not sure this card game, or TV show, or whatever it is has much basis in real mythology.”
The cup scooted a little closer to the edge of the table. To Ryan’s relief, Alison flicked it off the table entirely. He heard a tiny “Eep!” and caught a glimpse of a cockroach falling to the grass. Nox changed into a blue-eyed mouse—he was learning non-water animals already—but Alison put her foot on his tail. He squeaked in protest, then sat down and huffily combed his whiskers. Dad, meanwhile, raised his own glass.
“Two toasts,” he said.
There was a flicker, and Ryan realized he could see the future, if he wanted. He could look ahead and see what Dad was going to say. But he didn’t want to. Not after what had happened down at the beach. Knowing the future might cause fear and pain. So he refused to look.
“Are you all right, honey?” Aunt Ysabeth asked. “You look unhappy, indeed you do.”
“I’m fine,” Ryan said. “Don’t interrupt Dad. He’s supposed to talk.”
“Hm. He’s got you there, Ysabeth,” Mom said.
“Two toasts,” Dad repeated. “First, to the birthday boy and girl. Eleven years old and counting.”
“May you live forever,” said Mom and the aunts in a single voice, “and may we never die!” They raised their glasses in one motion and drank together all at once.
They’d been saying this every year for as long as Ryan could remember. Maybe he didn’t need to look at the future. He drank from his cup, as he was supposed to do. So did Alison. Then Dad spoke again.
“To the women before Moving Day,” and his voice took on a singsong quality.
May you always have work for your hands to do.
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
And may love fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
“Thank you, darling,” Mom said, as she said every year, and wiped at her eye.
Ryan glanced at the front porch, where a huge mound of suitcases sat piled to the roof. Every year, Mom and the aunts went away the day after Ryan’s birthday. Every year, they always took an enormous amount of luggage with them, which was why Dad called it Moving Day. Every year, they returned exactly seven days later, though they never said where they went or what they did. Ryan had learned to stop asking about it.
Mom held up the cake and Aunt Ysabeth handed Aunt Zara the barbecue lighter so she could light the candles. Happy Birthday Ryan and Alison was written in red letters on the chocolate frosting.
“Make a wish, both of you,” Aunt Ysabeth said.
Mom said, “One …
Aunt Zara said, “Two …”
A gust of wind rushed over the cake and blew out all eleven candles.
“Huh.” Aunt Zara quickly relit them. “Let’s try again.”
Mom said, “One …”
Another gust blew the candles out. Alison leaped to her feet and pointed to the sky. “Look!”
Everyone looked, including Nox the mouse. Dozens of hand-sized fairies were diving toward the table. They shimmered in the sunlight, partly silver and partly transparent, with wasp wings. Ryan gaped. Before he could respond, two of them darted down to the table, where they snatched the shoulders of Alison’s shirt. They yanked her body off the ground and started to fly away with her. Alison yelled in pain and surprise and squirmed in mid-air.
“No!” Ryan screamed. “Alison!”
“Sylphs?” Mom said. “What are they doing here?”
Alison was already ten feet above the ground. The other air fairies buzzed around her like gleeful bees. Aunt Ysabeth moved quicker than Ryan thought possible. She snatched a steel barbecue fork from the table and drew it back like spear. In a flash, Ryan caught the future. Before he could stop himself, he foresaw the fork fly through the air. He saw it strike one of the fairies holding Alison. He saw the wounded fairy let go. He saw Alison fall. Although she wasn’t very high up, he saw her land badly, break her neck, and die.
In terror, Ryan launched himself across the table. His stomach smashed the birthday cake flat as he grabbed at Aunt Ysabeth’s arm. He missed, but managed to jostle her and throw off her aim. The fork flew upward—
—and missed. The fairies flew higher with the struggling Alison still in their grip. Ryan felt dizzy, just as he had back in the kitchen when he had stopped Alison from spilling her milk.
“Ryan!” Aunt Ysabeth said. “What on earth?”
“What are we going to do?” Mom shouted. “Harrison!”
“I can’t reach them,” Dad said. “You’re the expert on this, not me!”
“Get underneath her, Xaveria,” Aunt Zara said. “Quickly! Harrison, see if you can find something else to throw before they get away!”
The dizziness passed. Ryan rolled to his feet with cake all over his front and tried to shout for Nox. His tongue froze. The water woman’s curse—he couldn’t talk about fairies where anyone but Alison could hear. He wanted to scream in frustration. But a dark streak shot from the ground, and a blue-eyed falcon darted toward the fairies.
“N—n—” Alison stuttered, also unable to say Nox’s name. “You! Help me!”
Nox screeched and came at one of the fairies, but two others buzzed in front of him to intercept. Nox burst into the shape of a three-foot shark, apparently without thinking. He managed to snap one of the fairies out of the air and swallow it before he plunged back toward the ground. He slammed hard into the grass and lay there, stunned and gasping. A buzzing titter filtered down from the air fairies.
“What?” Dad blurted, staring at Nox. “What is that?”
Alison managed to get a hand into her pocket. She yanked out her jackknife, flicked it open, and stabbed at one of the fairies holding her aloft. The steel blade nicked the fairy’s arm. It screamed. A tiny stream of silver blood squirted into the air, and the fairy let go. The other fairy, caught by surprise, also let go. Alison dropped like a stone, her scream following her down.
“Alison!” Ryan yelled, horrified.
But Mom and Aunt Zara were there. Between them, they caught Alison before she reached the ground, though all three of them tumbled to the grass in a tangle of arms and legs. The remaining sylphs snapped into formation in mid-air, and each produced a bow and arrow from nothing. The little bows looked like mist twisted from the sky, and the arrowheads gleamed diamond-sharp. Every one of them aimed at Ryan.
In that moment, Ryan felt like he had been standing on a red field and then suddenly looked up to realize he was actually standing on a single scarlet square that was actually part of a giant chess board of red and black squares. He could see the move every piece could make, the patterns they drew. It wasn’t seeing the future, quite. It was seeing patterns from the past that would eventually force the future to come true, like seeing a falling glass and knowing instantly that someone had already dropped it and that it would soon hit the floor. He knew what had happened and what would happen. In this case, he knew the sylphs had attacked Alison in order to distract Dad, Mom, and the aunts. Now that they had done so, they were concentrating on their real goal—killing Ryan.
Except the sylphs had lined themselves up with such careful precision that Ryan could already see where the arrows would fly. He could sense how long it would take for each one to arrive, instinctively feel the flight paths. The sylphs fired. Two dozen deadly arrows flicked through the air straight at Ryan’s eyes and heart.
“Ryan!” Mom cried.
By reflex, Ryan snatched up the platter, ruined birthday cake and all, and held it at a precise angle in front of him. He felt dozens of pocks and pings against the metal, but not one arrow struck him.
Dad snatched up the barbecue fork from the grass and stood over Alison. “Cold iron, sylph!” he warned, slashing air with the fork. “You want to risk it? Come on!”
Ryan became awar
e that Aunt Ysabeth was now standing behind him. She was holding the fork’s matching steel spatula, and her hand was shaking. Ryan couldn’t tell if it was from fear, anger, or both.
“You have no right to be here!” she snarled over Dad’s shoulder. “Leave this place!”
The fairies hovered overhead for a long moment. Then, still in formation, they fled into the bright sky and vanished.
For a moment, no one moved. Then a rush of wind blew over Ryan’s hand, bringing pain with it. He inhaled sharply and looked. A curly yellow design drew itself a quarter of the way around the circle on his palm, creating two designs that took up half the circle.
Excellent, my prince, said the voice in his head. You continue to please me.
Before Ryan could react to this, Alison disentangled herself from Mom and Aunt Zara and Ryan all but flew over to Nox. Ryan rushed to join her, shedding chunks of cake and frosting all the way. The little shark’s struggles were growing weaker, and he seemed to be melting around the edges. His blue eyes dimmed.
“He’s hurt,” Alison said.
“Blood!” Ryan gasped. “Your knife.”
By some miracle, Alison hadn’t lost her jackknife. She pricked her finger without a thought and held the wound over Nox’s body. Blood oozed. And then Mom grabbed Alison’s wrist and yanked her hand aside. A scarlet droplet flicked to one side.
“What are you doing?” Mom demanded.
“Mom, no!” Ryan said. “She’s trying to h—h—” But the word “help” stuck in his throat, strangled by the fairy curse.
“Let go!” Alison cried. Tears streaked her face. “He needs—needs—”
“This is a fairy creature,” Mom said. Nox was beginning to dissolve. His teeth were gone, and his fins looked like old slush. “I’ve seen them before. If you give your blood to a fairy creature, it binds you together forever.”
“I know,” Alison said, still crying. “I already—already—”
“Mom!” Ryan said. “Don’t stop her! It’s okay.”
“Xaveria!” Aunt Zara yelled.
And Mom released Alison’s wrist. Alison let several drops fall into Nox’s mouth. Immediately his shape sharpened and his teeth returned. He gasped for breath and changed into a blue-eyed kestrel, which flapped up to perch on Alison’s shoulder.
un/FAIR Page 3