Fault Lines

by D. J. McCune

  Time was passing. Adam put his head in his hands, feeling shattered. He had to get it together but he couldn’t do it. It was all very well deciding to lie but it was starting to wear him down. He was lying to everyone, everywhere. Lying to his friends, lying to Melissa, lying to his family. Now he was lying to the Concilium too. It was too much. How many lies could you tell before you began to lose sight of what was true?

  There were footsteps on the stairs. Adam sat up, alert. It was a heavy male tread, pausing every few steps, as though the person was trying to be quiet and listen. Adam knew who it was straight away. Who else would be sneaking about the house other than Darian? He almost ran to the door but some instinct propelled him behind the sofa instead, pushing himself into the narrow gap against the wall.

  He had barely settled when the door opened. He couldn’t see but he could hear the long pause as the visitor surveyed the room; several footsteps and there was the sound of someone moving books and DVDs on the shelf. Another long pause. Adam imagined Darian staring around the room, searching for something and not finding it. The footsteps retreated through the door and into the hall.

  Adam waited, counting to ten, to make sure it wasn’t a trap to draw him out but as the footsteps continued along the hall he had a sudden flash of insight. He knew where Darian was going – Nathanial’s study. He crawled out from his hidey-hole, brushing dust off his jacket sleeve and scuttled to the door, then hesitated. What was he going to do? Burst out and confront Darian? Surely there was no need. What could Nathanial have in his study that would be incriminating? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe it would be better to let Darian have his snoop and find out that Nathanial was innocent – assuming of course that the Frenchman wouldn’t plant false evidence. Adam wouldn’t put anything past him.

  Still lurking by the door, he heard more footsteps on the stairs. The decision was out of his hands. He stayed where he was, wondering who was there now. A moment later a familiar voice called out, ‘Darian! I was wondering where you’d gone.’ There was the pock of high heels on the tile floor.

  Adam took a deep breath and pressed his eye to the crack in the door. He had been wondering all night what Auntie Jo was up to but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

  ‘I am here to investigate wrong-doing, as you know.’ There was an edge to Darian’s voice.

  ‘Wrong-doing in Nathanial’s study? What do you imagine is lurking in there?’ Auntie Jo beamed up at him. ‘Well, you know Nathanial would be only too happy to show you. There’s no need to be so sleuth-like about it.’ She took a step closer. ‘But it is nice to finally get you all to myself.’

  Darian stared at her, oozing dislike and distrust but too well-trained to be outright rude. ‘Have you some confession to make?’

  Auntie Jo tilted her head to one side. ‘Of course I have but then you knew that, didn’t you? It’s OK, Darian. It’s just you and me here. I know this isn’t the usual way things are done but we’re both a bit past the giddy teenage stage, aren’t we? So here I am, just a woman standing in front of a man, waiting for the words that will set us free.’

  Darian sneered. ‘And what do you think I have to say?’

  ‘There’s no need to be shy, Darian. Tell me why you’re really here. What you really want.’

  ‘What I want is to bring the rogue in this King—’

  ‘You want me, Darian. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I still remember Aron’s Marking ball.’ Auntie Jo curled her fingers round his arm like a vine. ‘How could I forget it? You whisked me round the dance floor as though I were a feather.’

  Darian was gaping at her. Behind the den door, Adam was gaping too. He had the same feeling he’d had when the Beast had spiked his drink at Cryptique: that the world was tilting on its axis and playing tricks on him. He remembered the Marking ball too. He remembered Darian’s unwilling waltz with his aunt and her less than gracious acceptance. As for whisking her round like a feather … Adam’s memory of the scene was more like a tin soldier prodding an angry elephant around the ballroom.

  Auntie Jo wasn’t letting Darian’s stunned silence deter her. ‘That night, I saw a side of you I had never seen before. Far from the arrogant, cruel, vindictive man I thought you were …’ and here she tailed off for a moment, seemingly overwhelmed with some kind of emotion. She managed to compose herself and gave him another beaming smile. ‘I saw a different man. A man who had spent all these years masking his feelings, hiding behind coldness and hostility, just as I had. A man who just needed to be loved in return. And now I tell you – I am ready, Darian. I am ready to love you, at last!’

  She stood on tiptoe and made a sudden lunge towards Darian, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Darian gave a squawk of something between disbelief and terror and flung himself sideways, backing away from her, wide-eyed. It was a scene Adam had witnessed a thousand times in Auntie Jo’s favoured horror films, the hero backing away from the relentless, slobbering mouth of a zombie, and tonight Auntie Jo was that zombie. ‘Don’t be afraid, my love,’ she whispered, moving towards him, her arms stretching out, her face hungry. ‘There is nothing to fear but fear itself.’

  There was the sound of more feet at the top of the stairs and then a long stunned silence as whoever was there took in the scene below. Adam shrank back into the den, torn between his horrible fascination and fear of getting caught. A moment later he heard Nathanial’s hesitant voice. ‘Jo … is everything … what’s going on?’

  ‘What is the meaning of this, Darian?’ Heinrich’s voice was sharp.

  ‘It’s OK, Heinrich,’ Auntie Jo trilled. ‘Everything is fine. Darian and I have been reaching an understanding. We’re going to be seeing a lot more of him here.’

  ‘Non!’ There was an edge of hysteria in Darian’s voice. ‘I … you … this is not true! This is the madness of your mind. I am here to investigate, nothing more!’ He lapsed into impassioned French, jabbering at Heinrich, pleading for rescue.

  Nathanial cleared his throat, following more of the conversation than Adam could. ‘I think there might have been some miscommunication.’

  ‘There has been no miscommunication!’ Auntie Jo said firmly. ‘Only two hearts beating alone for too long, when they should have been beating as one!’ Behind the door Adam had a moment of hysteria and clamped his hands over his face, trying to stop his laughter escaping out of his mouth and nose. Auntie Jo had obviously been watching the romance channels on the sly, in between all the zombies.

  Heinrich had reached the hall. ‘I think it is best if perhaps we leave, Darian. I need to speak with you before I return home tonight.’

  ‘Of course, High Curator.’ Darian had fallen back on formality, like a drowning man clinging to flotsam. ‘Perhaps my thanks can be passed on to our hostess for the delicious meal –’

  ‘I made the pastries, Darian!’ Auntie Jo broke in. ‘I poured my heart into every sliver of succulent fruit! How I envied those apples as they brushed your lips!’

  ‘Thank you for coming tonight, Curator, Chief Curator,’ Nathanial said. Adam imagined hands being shaken and heard the murmur of parting words. As the front door opened, Auntie Jo bellowed, ‘Come and visit us any time, Darian! There is always a place for you at our table, as there is in my heart! We shall dance again soon, mon chéri!’

  The front door thudded closed. Adam flattened himself to the wall, wondering how to escape, until Auntie Jo said, ‘You can come out now, Adam. The coast is clear.’

  He couldn’t exactly hide any longer. Cursing silently, he slipped out into the hall to be confronted by his father and aunt. Nathanial was frowning. ‘What were you doing down here?’

  Adam swallowed. ‘I just … I felt a bit sick after dinner.’ It wasn’t a lie.

  He hardly dared to glance at his aunt, but when he did Auntie Jo was grinning. ‘It’s all right, Adam. A performance like that deserved an audience. I have a feeling you appreciated it.’

  Adam stared at her. Nathanial was staring too. ‘Wh
at on earth were you thinking, Jo?’ He sounded more baffled than angry.

  Auntie Jo sighed. ‘I was just being hospitable, brother.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Extremely hospitable. In fact, I was so hospitable that I’ll be amazed if Darian ever dares to set foot in this house again, without Heinrich there to protect him.’

  Nathanial and Adam exchanged glances. Then, without a word, Nathanial turned and walked back up the stairs, almost – but not quite – managing to hide his smile.

  Chapter 14

  dam was still grinning at Auntie Jo’s performance while he sat on the bus to school on Monday morning but any smile was soon wiped off his face when he got to registration. Mr Fenton looked like he’d had a big weekend, judging by the bags under his eyes and the vodka sweating out of his pores, which meant his Monday morning rant wasn’t up there with his best. He did manage to give them all a miserable booklet outlining the hours of work they should be doing every evening. Whoever had drawn up the timetable hadn’t revised their maths or science; each day would have needed at least four extra hours to fit in all that studying.

  It was a problem for Adam. He liked his subjects and wanted to do well. He was still hoping for a miraculous change of heart but knowing that he would have to leave school in December made it harder to do his work every night. It didn’t help that he was having to go on so many call-outs.

  However successful Auntie Jo’s scheme might yet prove to be, Nathanial wasn’t taking any chances. On Monday evening when Adam got home from school he found his father and brothers waiting for him. Nathanial led them all into the study and closed the door behind him. Adam glanced at his brothers, relieved that they looked as mystified as he felt.

  Nathanial came straight to the point. ‘Aron, you’ve done extremely well since your Marking. Your mother and I are proud of you. And now we’d like to see your brothers come of age too. We’re going to ask for your help with this.’

  Aron nodded, looking pleased but wary. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘We’re going to split the fast-response call-outs between us. When you go on call-outs, I would like you to take Luc along on as many as possible. I will bring Adam with me. You both need the experience.’

  ‘But what about the rota we have?’ Luc protested. ‘Aren’t we going to get any time off?’

  ‘Not during the day,’ Nathanial said firmly. ‘You will go with Aron or me on the daytime call-outs while Adam is at school. In the evenings, Adam, you will come with me.’

  ‘But what about my homework?’

  ‘You won’t need to worry about that when you’ll be leaving school in December,’ Nathanial said. He sounded uncharacte‌ristically sharp. ‘This Kingdom is still being observed. I want everything done by the book and I want all of my sons Marked and ready to take up their responsibi‌lities.’

  True to Nathanial’s word, Adam was dragged off on two call-outs that evening. He fell into bed after midnight and when the alarm went off on Tuesday morning it was tempting to just lie there under the covers and doze. He flung himself out of bed and into the shower, keeping the water colder than normal. It worked. He caught his bus in the nick of time.

  Melissa hadn’t been in the day before. She still hadn’t returned his calls from Saturday, so it was a relief when he saw her in registration. Adam lingered in the corridor, waiting for her to come out. He felt nervous. It wasn’t a nice feeling. Usually he felt more comfortable with Melissa than anyone but he knew that she would still be annoyed about Friday night. When she came out and saw him waiting, her face fell. Adam’s heart fell too. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi.’ She wasn’t really looking at him.

  ‘Are you OK?’ She didn’t look OK. She looked exhausted.

  ‘Mum had to go into hospital over the weekend. She never really got rid of that cold. They think it’s just a chest infection but they wanted to be sure.’ She paused. ‘My aunt and I took her home last night. She was coughing a bit but then she fell asleep. I kept checking on her though.’

  Adam felt sick with guilt. ‘I rang over the weekend. I really wanted to go out on Friday night with you but I couldn’t. I wish I had known your mum wasn’t well.’

  Melissa raised an eyebrow. ‘Right. So what would you have done? Called round?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, lying. Lying again. He would have tried. Maybe he would have managed for a couple of hours. Only then he would have come home and had a million questions to answer AND had to sit through a dinner with their friendly neighbourhood psychopath and the Chief Curator.

  He could see Melissa didn’t believe him. He took her hand, desperate to make it up to her. ‘Can I see you at lunchtime?’

  ‘If you can come up to the art room.’

  ‘I can. I will!’ At least she kissed him, briefly. He watched her disappear down the corridor, her bag perched on her shoulder, but her head was drooping.

  Someone crashed into him from behind, knocking him into the wall. The side of his head thunked off the concrete and the pain flared out in a bright bloom. When he opened his eyes and turned round Michael Bulber was standing there, surrounded by his pack. He was smiling at Adam with fake sincerity. ‘Sorry, mate. Didn’t see you there. It was an accident.’

  ‘Yeah, of course it was,’ Adam said. His disappointment and pain were crystallising into fury. He clenched his fists, feeling his hatred flow down his arms. It would be so easy to hit the Beast right now. Just let go. Get all the bad feelings out. He imagined it: the impact of his knuckles into the Beast’s face; seeing his head snap back and blood spilling from his nose. The satisfying violence of it. The shock on Weasel’s scrawny face. Maybe Melissa would come back and see it too.

  It was thinking about Melissa that helped him bring his rage under control. She would be disgusted with him. She would look at him like he was a stranger, not the person she fell in love with. She had loved him. He just wasn’t sure if she still did. The sadness of it diluted his anger. He had worked so hard to go to Japan. Was he going to blow it all now by hitting the Beast? Getting suspended? Getting struck off the list?

  He took a deep breath in and blew it out again. He walked past the Beast, blocking out the sound of laughter. ‘See you in Tokyo, you little prick!’ Bulber called after him.

  He counted to ten all the way to class and when he ran out of numbers he started again.

  By the time he got to the library at break, news of the run-in had reached his friends. They were at their usual table, looking gloomy. Dan started talking before Adam even sat down. ‘We have to do something about him. He’s going to ruin everything. I don’t want to go all the way to Japan to be murdered when I can just stay here and save myself a flight.’

  Adam didn’t even have to ask who he meant. ‘What can we do? It must be great for him. I mean, he’s a nutter, but at least his dad’s a psycho too. There’s no way The Bulb’s going to do anything to stop him going.’

  Archie was drawing yet another version of his perfect Japanese girlfriend. He raised his head and looked at Spike. ‘Can’t you do something?’

  ‘No.’ Spike’s voice was flat. ‘I’m already pretending to be the Sensai and doing some more work in my mum’s office in the evening. It’s good money but I’m way behind. I’m never going to get into …’ He tailed off. ‘Never mind.’

  Dan rolled his eyes. ‘Is this the hacker group you were trying to get into? Who cares? There’s no point getting in with the hackers if the Beast is going to kill you before you can do anything.’

  ‘But he isn’t going to kill me.’ Spike glanced at Adam and his eyes flickered. ‘I’m not the one he’s after. So I’m keeping my head down.’

  Adam shrugged, feigning indifference, but it hurt. He’d always been friends with Spike but things had gone so wrong last year. He knew he’d brought it on himself. It wasn’t just going out with Melissa (Adam still didn’t know if Spike had fancied her, as Dan had claimed) but the way he’d deleted the photo from Spike’s laptop. His ‘friend’ knew he was hiding something. He knew he
was being lied to. No one liked that.

  After break he tried to focus on his work, surreptitiously starting his maths homework while he was in English. By lunchtime he couldn’t wait to see Melissa and when he turned up at the art room she seemed pleased to see him too. She was posing for Jack, a boy in her art class. While he snapped photos of her Adam bit his tongue, trying to swallow down his jealousy and frustration. He could still remember her taking photos of him, then kissing him. ‘Passion’, she had called the piece she created. She was laughing and joking with Jack, not flirting, but it was making Adam edgy. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and snog her in front of everyone.

  He did get some time with her alone just before the bell went. They slipped into the art store and as soon as they closed the door Adam kissed her. He pulled her in against him, feeling her back through her thin school blouse, feeling her hair on his cheek and the heat and softness in her mouth. She was kissing him back and suddenly he knew that everything was going to be OK. Whatever the magic was that kept two people liking – loving – each other, they still had it.

  Someone opened the door and he waved them away. There were titters and the door closed again. Melissa was smiling, her lips curving against his neck. It made him smile too. ‘I love you,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so crap.’

  ‘Yeah, you have been,’ she said. There was no malice in her voice; she was just telling the truth. They both knew it. ‘But I’m going to let you make it up to me. I have to work this weekend but the shop is closing the following week for a big renovation. If my mum is feeling better she’s supposed to be going to stay with her friend on the Saturday and I don’t have to go. I’m going to have the flat all to myself.’ She hesitated, suddenly looking shy. ‘I thought you could come over.’