The Lost Boys

by Lilian Carmine

  “You haven’t signed yet?” Seth chipped in, surprised.

  “No, he hasn’t!” I ratted him out.

  “What’s going on, man?” Josh and Seth asked together.

  Tristan pursed his lips and stared at the floor. “I’m just trying to be practical here, guys. We don’t know what will happen at the end of the year.”

  “Tris, please, don’t say that!” I protested vehemently.

  “No! It’s true, Joey. I know every time I bring this up you get really mad, but we have to face it! I may not be here next year! And then what are you all going to do? I’m going to screw this up for you! Everything you have worked so hard to achieve!” he said, standing up in aggravation. “How are you going to explain my disappearance then? What are you going to do with the songs I’m on? I don’t want that. It’s best I stay behind the glass at the recording booth.”

  “Look, I get it,” Josh said, standing up. “But you are really going at it the wrong way. Even if you are right, and something happens at New Year, that’s no reason you shouldn’t do this with us right now! We are in this together!”

  “You are going to be on this album no matter what happens,” Seth added.

  “You can’t bail on us now,” Harry said.

  Tristan stared thoughtfully at his friends.

  “So, are we on the same page, here?” Seth asked, staring at him hard.

  Tristan took a while to respond, but then he sighed quietly and looked Seth in the eyes. “Yeah. We are,” he answered and smiled faintly. “If that’s what you really want. I’m in.”

  “All right, then.” Seth nodded happily while the boys in the back cheered. I kneeled in front of Tristan and put my hands over his legs, looking straight at him. So much sorrow passed through his eyes.

  “I’ll sign the contract tomorrow and I’ll start recording my songs,” he said, resigned, trying to appease me.

  “Tristan, please. Don’t be like this,” I pleaded again. “You should be excited about it, not sad like this.”

  “I … I know. I’m sorry, Joey. It’s just … I have this huge ticking clock hanging over my head all the time. It’s driving me nuts,” he muttered. “I try to keep the hope up, but sometimes it’s hard.

  “I know it is. But I promise we’ll find a way.” And I leaned in, giving him a small kiss.

  After that day, Tristan tried to act cheerful for our sake, pretending everything was fine and that he was staying positive and holding on to hope, but he wasn’t very convincing. I could sense depression setting in. He was more quiet and contemplative, and he would stare at nowhere with blank eyes whenever he thought nobody was watching him. But his gloomy moods came and went away in turns. Sometimes he did look truly hopeful.

  Miss Violet finally called us for a meeting in her home. She had been contacting many of her witch friends all around the world to find a spell for us. Tristan and I were sitting on her living-room couch on the first day of December, listening to what she had discovered. We only had a month now. Tristan’s hourglass of sand had almost run out. New Year was coming.

  So far, things didn’t look promising.

  Miss Violet suggested she could try an old powerful spell that would intensify the magical protective properties of Tristan’s beaded wristband, preventing Vigil from getting close to him after New Year had passed. If Vigil couldn’t get close to Tristan, he could not “fix” him. It was worth a try.

  However, it seemed that, for this spell to work, we needed to invoke Vigil. He needed to be present in our actual physical world in order to conclude the spell and keep him away from Tristan. The risk? Tristan needed to be there too, beaded wristband in place. Even though Vigil would be restrained in some sort of magical barrier, it was a big risk

  “Okay, let’s do this,” Tristan agreed after we’d spent long hours debating the plan.

  “Tristan! It’s too dangerous! There must be another way!” I exclaimed. “You can’t! I-I … forbid you!” I huffed, the same way he had done the first time we talked about my meeting with Sky.

  He shot me an annoyed glance. “Don’t mind her. She’s just being a smart mouth,” he said, turning to look at Miss Violet. “Do you really think this spell could work, Miss Violet?” he asked.

  Miss Violet seemed to ponder the question for a while and then she replied, “Yes. It is risky, but … it can be done, I think,” she said.

  “I’m running out of time.” He put a consoling arm around me. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “B-but …”

  “And I want to meet him,” he added suddenly.

  I reeled back in surprise. “Why do you want to meet Vigil?”

  “I want to talk to him. Man to man.”

  “He’s not a man!” I snapped, upset.

  “Okay. Man to unearthly being, then.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen, Joe, do you have any other ideas?” Tristan snapped sharply. “Because if you don’t, I’m doing this. And maybe if I talk to him I can reason with him. Maybe if he sees I’m a real person, he’ll change his mind. I need to try something! Anything! I can’t just sit here and wait for my time to run out!” he exclaimed, and leaned back on the couch, staring hard at me. “Are you with me?”

  I stared back at him, hard, but he was adamant. I sighed loudly and uncrossed my arms. “Yes. I’m with you,” I muttered, resigned. I had a bad feeling about this, but Tristan was right. We should try anything that might help him and save his life.

  “Good. It’s settled, then,” he said, and turned eagerly to Miss Violet. “When can we do this, Miss Violet? Can we do it today?”

  Miss Violet snorted loudly. “Of course not!” she said, waving him away. “I need to be prepared. It’s not a cheap parlor trick I’m doing here, boy!”

  “When, then?” he pressed.

  “I need a week or so. We can try next Saturday,” she said, sniffing loudly.

  “Okay. Next Saturday it is! Thank you so much, for all your help, for everything, Miss Violet,” he said, making amends. “I’ll be for ever in your debt.”

  “That’s all right. Now, you two go away and let me get to work here,” she said, shooing us out.

  The following Friday night we had a little dinner at the Green House – me, Tristan and all the boys – before the big day. The boys insisted on being there for support as well, and Seth had the idea of making a nice meal and celebrating our friendship before we embarked on this dangerous venture. We missed Tiffany, who was finally doing her duty and visiting her parents, but we toasted her in her absence. It was a happy evening, spent with the best friends in the world. We sat on the floor in the lounge of the Green House, eating pasta and reminiscing about our good old days at school. It didn’t feel like almost a year ago that I had first arrived at Sagan’s front gates, all splashed in mud.

  But the whole time, Tristan and I couldn’t help thinking about what tomorrow would bring. Whenever the boys noticed Tristan or me getting edgy, they would try to cheer us up with jokes and positive thoughts. We were all going to be there for him tomorrow when the spell was cast. We went to bed really early but I don’t think anybody got any sleep that night; the thought of what we were about to do the next day loomed eerily over all our heads.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Lady Knight

  The next day, we were all subdued. Even Harry was in his “quiet mode”, and Sammy had quit all his jokes for the day. Josh and Seth kept glancing between each other and back at Tristan all the time.

  Miss Violet had said she needed the whole afternoon to gather the ingredients for the spells, and she needed to be left alone to concentrate on getting everything sorted out at the cemetery. We were to arrive there at sunset. This was the best hour to perform the spell.

  There were actually three spells to be cast: the invocation spell that would call Vigil to the cemetery; a containment spell that would keep him restrained and imprisoned in a magic circle; and the hinder spell that was supposed to keep Vigil away from Tristan f
or good. This was the spell that would save Tristan’s life. It was also the hardest to perform.

  Miss Violet told us she was going to cast the spells in the middle of the grass circle in the centre of the cemetery, the same place Tristan had first physically “appeared” to us.

  She told us it was the strongest magical spot in the whole of Esperanza.

  I wondered if any containment spell would be strong enough to hold Vigil. If he broke through, Tristan would be lost. Miss Violet said it was the most powerful containment spell she knew of. It could be used to bind any supernatural being and in ancient times had commonly been used to summon Death – so even Sky could not escape it. Miss Violet also said that she had prepared a backup plan. If something went wrong, she could break the connection by chanting a three-word incantation, and Vigil would be sent straight back to wherever he came from. It was like an emergency evacuation button. She had covered all bases and tried to make this as safe as possible for all of us.

  We left the house a couple of hours before sunset to meet Miss Violet. Tristan wanted to get to the cemetery early, to get prepared. We walked through the cemetery lanes in silence, the boys a few feet ahead of us. It was the first time we had been to the cemetery with them, and I could see how worried and scared they all looked as they shuffled through the quiet lanes.

  Tristan held my hand and stroked his thumb absentmindedly over it, like he always did whenever he was deep in thought. We walked quickly to the grass circle in the old part of the cemetery to find Miss Violet kneeling there with her hand on the grass and her eyes closed. When she heard us approaching, she raised her head and snapped her eyes open.

  “Don’t step on the grass, any of you!” she ordered harshly. “And be quiet.”

  We stood there for a long time, staring at her and preparing ourselves for the magic hour. She kept muttering quietly under her breath, but I couldn’t make out any actual words. Then she stood up and waved at us.

  “You can come over now. Don’t get too near the centre, though, am I clear?” she bellowed in a stern voice. Everybody nodded, too scared to say anything. All the boys positioned themselves close to Tristan, surrounding him in a protective huddle, and I stood a few feet in front of Tristan with my back to them. I had dealt with Vigil before and I saw myself as Tristan’s guardian. I should be in front of them, shielding Tristan from sight. If things went wrong, I could protect him.

  Miss Violet grabbed a bottle filled with a thick white liquid and turned to face us. “Everything’s set now. So, are you ready? When I finish pouring this, the spells are going to be put in motion,” she told us. I turned to look at Tristan. He gave me a nervous smile and a short nod. I turned again and nodded to Miss Violet too. We were ready.

  “Let’s do this,” I said.

  Miss Violet poured the liquid then, using it to draw a white circle on the grass, a few feet in front of me. We waited a few seconds, wondering if this was going to work. Miss Violet kept muttering in a low tone as she walked to the border of the grassed area. I watched her take position on my far right. When I turned my face back to the white circle, Vigil was already standing inside.

  One second there was nothing, the next second he was there in the middle of the circle, looking directly at me. In my dreams, he was always somewhat shifty, a blurry image, not really defined, even when he took human form. This time he was very clear.

  Long black locks of soft hair fell over his pale, angelic, androgenous face. He was wearing gray pants and a gray short-sleeved shirt. He looked about my age, if not younger; delicate and frail. You could almost mistake him for a weak boy. But I knew better. It was just a very clever disguise. He was neither weak nor fragile.

  Vigil looked confused for a split second, before he resumed his blank expression. He hastily assessed his surroundings and turned his gaze back to me. Then he tried taking a step forward and stopped abruptly, puzzlement flashing across his face to be quickly replaced by blankness again. He glanced down curiously at the white line on the ground.

  “Restrainment. Clever,” he said, amused, and looked up at Miss Violet. She didn’t say anything, just stared back at him with serious eyes. Vigil stared back for a while and then turned his face to me, watching me unblinkingly. “Is this how you treat me, Joey, after all the help I have given you?” he accused coldly.

  I felt immensely guilty, but I couldn’t back down now. “I’m sorry, Vigil, I really am. But this was a necessary precaution we had to take. You’re a threat.”

  “I am a threat?”

  “Yes, you want to hurt Tristan,” I explained.

  He frowned, deeply displeased with my last line. “I do not ‘want’ anything. What I have to do is just put Tristan back where he belongs, nothing more. I have told you this before. Why do you insist on not understanding this?” he said, and I caught a hint of resentment in his voice.

  “I understand. I just don’t accept it,” I told him.

  Miss Violet started chanting quietly, but Vigil caught the words and glared fiercely at her. Then he waved a hand and Miss Violet appeared to choke and splutter, losing her voice.

  “So this is what you wanted of me after all. Your witch is trying to cast a hinder spell to keep me away from your ghost. It is a pity you are so weak and pathetic that you need to vocalize your incantations, old woman. I can take your voice away, and there is nothing else you can do.” He turned back to stare at me again. “I cannot be stopped, Joe Gray. As soon as you are no longer his guardian at the end of the year, he is mine for the taking,” he promised in a cold voice.

  I glanced around, trying desperately to find another way out. Vigil had stopped Miss Violet in her tracks by stealing her voice. She couldn’t complete the last spell. She couldn’t even chant the emergency spell to get rid of Vigil now. We were royally screwed.

  “I need to talk to you, Vigil.” Tristan’s voice came from behind me.

  “Tristan, don’t!” I warned with a shout.

  “He’s here?” Vigil asked, surprised, and then looked sharply at the boys standing behind me. His gaze roamed across all of them, not sure which one was his real target. Tristan’s magic wristband was still working, keeping him guarded from Vigil’s scrutinizing eyes. But then Tristan took a step forward, revealing himself. Vigil turned his attention immediately to him, squinting his eyes in deadly focus. He made a small movement, but was stopped once again by the magic circle on the grass.

  I tensed, worried that Miss Violet’s restrainment spell would not hold him. But clearly he couldn’t pass.

  Vigil and Tristan stared at each other for a long time before Tristan broke the silence.

  “I want to ask you something,” I heard Tristan say, his voice steady. Vigil’s gaze flicked between Tristan and me.

  “There is nothing you can offer me, boy. I cannot be bought, or bribed. I will not bargain,” Vigil stated. “I will do what I came here to do; that is my purpose. There are rules to be obeyed – you cannot escape the natural order of things,” he intoned before Tristan could even say anything. I remembered Vigil’s love of rules; I’d already tried that angle with him once.

  Tristan seemed to be thinking about Vigil’s speech for a second before he spoke again. “All rules have exceptions, yes?” Tristan asked calmly. “You live long enough, this is one of the things you learn eventually. I reckon you have lived for … for ever. You must know this to be true.”

  Vigil stared at Tristan for some time in silence, pondering his words.

  “Yes,” Vigil finally conceded. “All rules have exceptions.”

  “So why can’t I be an exception this time?” Tristan asked again.

  I smiled. Clever boy.

  “This is not my decision to make. My duty is only to put things in their rightful places,” Vigil answered.

  “You can pretend you did. That you fixed this. And then walk away. Nobody would know.” Tristan pondered. “If you don’t tell, who’s to say you did or didn’t do your job?”

  “There will be questions
asked.”

  “You could lie,” Tristan replied.

  “I do not lie.” Vigil sneered. “I never lie. And I will not lie; not for you, human boy. Not for anybody.”

  “Better a liar than a murderer,” Tristan said bluntly.

  “I am not …” Vigil began.

  “Ah. But that is exactly what you are. That is exactly what you are going to do, Vigil,” Tristan cut in. “You can sugar-coat it all you like, but you are going to kill me. And you don’t even care. Which makes it even worse,” Tristan said hotly.

  Vigil’s eyes still kept dancing back and forth between Tristan and me, but he didn’t reply. He seemed to be debating something, struggling with an inner fight. His face was still smooth and cool, not showing anything, but his eyes betrayed him. Anger, pride and guilt as the glint of his eyes reflected the eerie light of the setting sun around us. He looked quickly at me again, a cautious nervous sideways glance.

  “Why do you keep …?” Tristan started to ask, and then he stopped and stared accusingly at Vigil. Vigil snapped his gaze back to Tristan, and for the first time since he had arrived in the circle, I could see a flash of panic and fear.

  Fear? What was Vigil afraid of? The two locked eyes again. Black fathomless eyes staring deep into piercing bright gray ones. I watched them carefully, switching fast from Vigil to Tristan, but I couldn’t see what they were feeling. They seemed to be having a silent conversation.

  After a few tense seconds Tristan gave a tiny smirk, like he had just understood an inside joke. “That is never going to happen,” he said quietly, without breaking eye-contact with Vigil’s cold hard stare.

  Vigil’s jaw twitched and clenched; his fist balled up at his sides. He looked angry. Really angry. For a non-human entity, he was sure mimicking human emotions increasingly easily.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vigil snapped, a menacing tone in his voice and loathing in his eyes.

  Tristan stared for a few more seconds in complete silence. “It. Is. Never. Going. To. Happen,” Tristan repeated slowly, deliberately, and with the most absolute certainty. He sounded angry too now. “Do you understand the concept of never?”