A Chalice of Wind b-1

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A Chalice of Wind b-1 Page 7

by Cate Tiernan


  In the main room, I found Axelle, Jules, and Daedalus sitting around the table, wearing the same clothes from last night. The ashtray was full of cigarettes. Empty soda cans and bottles of water circled the table. They had clearly been up all night, and I was amazed they hadn't been louder.

  "Hey," I said unenthusiastically, and they looked up.

  "You're up early," Axelle said, glancing at the antique clock on the mantel.

  "School," I said, trying to eat a plain piece of bread.

  Axelle let out a breath, giving Jules and Daedalus a meaningful look. I was so zany and unpredictable, wanting to go to school.

  "You were serious about that," she muttered. Then, "What time will you be home?"

  "School gets out at three," I said, chewing, struggling to swallow, "I guess around three thirty? I don't know how long the streetcar will take"

  "Give her a cell phone," Daedalus told Axelle, and I stopped chewing in surprise.

  She looked at him, her black eyes thoughtful. Then she stood, fished around in her huge black leather purse, and pulled out a cell phone. For a moment she stood looking at it, tracing her fingers over it as if, like, memorizing it, saying goodbye. To a cell phone. Jeez.

  Finally she brought it over to me. I couldn't believe it.

  "Let us know If you're going to be late.' she said.

  O-kaaay. And you'll have cookies hot from the oven ready for me, right?

  I had bought myself a backpack and stocked it with a few first-day supplies. I zipped the phone into a little pocket.

  "Thais, come here," Jules said, and I walked over. Now what?

  The three of them were hunched over all kinds of old maps and new maps and books and what looked like geographical surveys.

  "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Axelle asked. Though she'd been up all night, she didn't look beat. Her skin was clear, her eyes bright-even her makeup looked okay.

  "Maps? Yeah-I've seen maps before." I had no idea what she meant.

  "No, more-maps like this" she said, pulling one out. It looked like an olde-timey reproduction on fake parchment, the edges tattered. I expected to see a big black X somewhere, where the treasure was buried.

  I shook my head. "Like a pirate map? Not any real ones."

  Jules snorted with laughter, and Axelle looked irritated.

  "Not a pirate map," she said. "Old maps. Real old maps. Did your father have anything like this among his things? Did you ever see anything else like this when you were little?"

  Well, that ranked right up there as being one of the weirder questions I'd ever been asked. "No," I shook my head again and started moving toward the door. "Dad didn't have anything like that. See you later."

  I slipped out the door into the lush, damp courtyard. It was early-I'd allowed plenty of time to get to school by public transportation-but already incredibly, jungle-style hot. Before I'd even reached the side gate, I felt damp and limp.X3reat. I swallowed the last of my bread, feeling it stick in my throat. Somehow, this morning, I missed my dad even more than yesterday.

  Clio

  “You ready?" I glanced over at Racey, who held up one finger and sucked down the last of her coffee.

  "I guess so." She leaned down and grabbed her retro plaid backpack, then leaned back against the car seat and closed her eyes. ”I’m not ready," she moaned,

  I leaned back and closed my eyes too. I'd already shut off the Camrys engine, so it was going to get hot in here in about two seconds, but we needed to take a moment. "Yeah," I said. "Where did the summer go?"

  "We got to the beach, what, once?" Racey complained

  I thought back to the long, hot summer days and the long, hot summer nights. "Still, we had some fun," I pointed out. And I met Andre."

  "Yeah. Racey opened her eyes and looked out the window. Some of our other friends were already gathered around the cement bench in front of the "Friendship Tree." Racey and I were the only witches in our group, but it wasn't a secret. There have always been witches in New Orleans, so it wasn't a big deal. Witches, Catholics, voodoo, Santeria, Jews-there was a lot of latitude about acceptable religions. Our friends thought it was kind of a hobby rather than a whole system of power. I didn't correct them.

  Racey looked down at her nails, which were painted black with little white lightning bolts on them.

  "Your nails match your hair," I realized.

  She grinned at me. "I know I've got kind of a skunk thing going, but I like it" She took a deep breath and let it out, then unlocked her door. "Okay, I'm ready. Lets go rock this joint."

  Laughing, I got out and unsuccessfully tugged my tank top down so it would meet my board shorts. Surely the school couldn't enforce their quaint "dress code" ideas today, not in this heat.

  "Yo!" called Eugenie LaFaye, holding up a hand in greeting.

  "So you got home all right that Saturday?" Delia asked with a smirk. The last time I'd seen her, I'd been trying to remember where the hell I'd left my car in a mall parking lot. That day felt like ages and ages ago-it was hard to believe I'd known Andre for such a short time. He'd changed my life so much, it was like his appearance had separated my history into two parts: before him and after him.

  "Oh, sure," I said airily. "How many blue, 1998 Toyota Camrys could there possibly be in a mall parking lot? Like, two thousand?"

  "Yeah, and she found hers after only one thousand, three hundred and seventy-eight," Racey said, and they all laughed.

  "So we got lucky," I said, brightly.

  "We've been checking out the talent," said Nicole, nodding at a bunch of guys over by the basketball hoops, Racey s little brother, Trey, was among them,

  I looked over but without a lot of interest. Ordinarily, of course, my antennae would be quivering-gauging the guys, obsessing over what I was wearing, seeing who was checking me out, enjoying being able to stun guys with a look, a word. Now even the most studly senior guys looked like second graders. Realizing I was already feeling clammy at eight forty-five in the morning, I twisted my hair into a knot, fished a chopstick out of my backpack, and stuck it through. "Voila," I said, "Chic yet simple."

  "Goofy yet messy," Eugenie said in the same tone.

  "Ladies," said a voice, and I turned to see Kris Edwards stroll up.

  "Hey, girl," I said, giving her a hug, "And how were the Swiss Alps?" Kris's family was stinking rich, and she'd spent the summer in Europe.

  "Swissy," she said, hugging Racey next. Alpy."

  "And the Swiss lads?' Nicole asked, "Your IMs left much to the imagination"

  "For which we're thankful" I said, and Kris laughed.

  "The Swiss talent was very, talented," she said, smirking, and Delia slapped her a high five. "And you?" she asked me, "Racey IM'ed that you'd met someone tall, dark, and dangerous,"

  "Dangerous?" I looked at Racey, who shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, "Well, he's tall, dark, and fabulous, but he's not dangerous. His name is Andre," I said, trying unsuccessfully not to look too smug.

  "Ooh, Andre" said Nicole, just as the first morning bell rang.

  "He's French," I said, "With a real French accent. He could read the phone book and I'd be drooling," We started moving toward the side doors, following the stream of other students. As usual, the freshmen looked like they should be in sixth grade, I was sure we'd never looked that young.

  "I love French accents," Delia said enviously,

  "He is incredibly good-looking," Racey said loyally, and I smiled at her,

  "Okay, let's see who we've got for homerooms," Kris said, and we headed for the senior lists on the walls,

  I looked, but my mind wasn't on it. I kept thinking about lying with Andre beneath the tree and how sure I was that we were meant to be together. It was a completely different feeling than I'd ever had, and it changed everything-school, friends, my whole world. I felt older somehow. Two weeks ago I'd been another seventeen-year-old about to start senior year. Now senior year was just a stepping-stone to the rest of my life and the perso
n I wanted to spend it with. It was weird: I felt somehow calmer and more sure than I'd ever felt but also more excited and full of anticipation than I'd ever felt. Two weeks ago I'd been just like all my friends. Now I had this huge relationship, and they didn't. And it made me different from them forever.

  Thais

  The streetcar stopped right across the street from Ecole Bernardin. I'd been practically hanging out the open window, totally nervous that I would somehow miss it. I felt more alone than I ever had in my whole life, even when a bunch of other kids got off the streetcar with me, obviously going to the same school.

  I know it's always hard being the new kid-I mean, I'd read about it. But I'd never been the new kid before. And from the looks I was getting, this school didn't seem to get too many new kids. Some people glanced at me and gave me casual waves or smiles, but others stared at me like I was an alien-edging me closer to nervous-breakdown-dom.

  The school building looked like it had been built back in the sixties, painted garish shades of blue and orange. Inside, one of the first doors I saw said GIRLS, and I ducked in there fast. Three sinks sat below three mirrors, and I looked at myself to see if I had toothpaste on my face or had grown horns or something.

  I was still trying to figure it out when a girl emerged from a cubicle and stood next to me to wash her hands.

  She glanced casually at me in the mirror and said, "Oh, hey-" Then she stopped and actually did a double take.

  "What?" I asked, my nerves about to snap. "What's wrong with me?"

  "Uh… " The girl looked totally taken aback. "Uh, who are you? Are you new here?"

  "Yes," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "Do you guys never get new people? Everyone's looking at me like I have two heads. What is it?" I swallowed hard, praying that I wouldn't start crying.

  The girl shook her head. "Nothings wrong with you," she said, trying to be nice. "But it's just that you- you really look like someone who already goes to school here."

  I stared at her, thinking of the few casual "heys" I'd gotten. "What? I look so similar to someone that people are staring at me when I go by? You've got to be kidding."

  "No," the girl said, giving me an apologetic smile. '"You really do look like her. Its kind of weird, actually."

  I didn't know what to say. Once again I had entered some crazy New Orleans X-Files where the rules of reality didn't apply.

  Tm sorry," the girl said, and held out her hand. "I'm Sylvie. Do you want me to show you where the office is?"

  I shook her hand, feeling a pathetic amount of relief that I'd met someone kind. "I'm Thais," I said. "That would be great"

  Just walking beside Sylvie helped, so much, to the point where I could quit freaking out and actually pay attention to the reactions I was getting. It wasn't from everyone-mostly older kids. I saw what Sylvie meant: some kids said hello, as if they already knew me. Others looked like they were going to say hi, then frowned and looked confused.

  "Okay, here it is," said Sylvie, showing me to an open door by a wide counter. Clearly the school office. "Homerooms are by last name. What's yours?"

  "Allard," I said, and she smiled and nodded.

  "I'm Allen-Sylvie Allen! So we'll be in the same one. I'll see you soon, okay?"

  "Thanks," I said gratefully.

  Sylvie nodded and headed down the hall, and I waited at the counter. A middle-aged woman with curly gray hair came over to me.

  "Yes, Clio?" she said briefly, taking out a form from under the counter. "What can I do for you?"

  There was no one standing there but me. "Urn, I'm not Clio," I said.

  The woman stopped and looked at me full-on. Embarrassed, I stood there, feeling like a zoo exhibit, A bell rang, and the halls filled with even more kids. The bell stopped, and still she hadn't said anything to me.

  "You're not Clio," she said finally;

  "No. Someone told me I look like someone who already goes to school here." But can you get over if? "Here are my transcripts from my last school." I pushed them across the counter. "I just moved here this summer. From Connecticut."

  Slowly she took my transcripts and the registration letter I'd gotten in the mail. Her name tag said Ms, DiLiberti." Thais Allard," she said, pronouncing it correctly.

  "Yes."

  "Yes, well, welcome, Thais," she said, seeming to recover enough to give me a professional smile. "I see you were a very good student back in Connecticut. I'm sure you'll do well here."

  "Thank you "

  "Your homeroom teacher will be Ms. Delaney, room 206. You'll just take the first set of stairs over there to your left,"

  "Thanks."

  And here's some other information," Now she was all business. "Here's a copy of our school handbook- you might find that helpful. Here's our school contract-please read it, sign it, and get it back to me by the end of the day. And if you could fill in this emergency contact form."

  "Yes, okay." This stuff I could deal with. What a relief. Then something almost imperceptible made my shoulders tense. I looked up just in time to see Ms. DiLiberti straighten, looking over my shoulder,

  "Wait," she said to me. "Clio!"

  I looked around-at last, they'd see us both together and we could stop all this double-take crap. A group of girls was walking toward us, laughing among themselves.

  The light was behind them, so they were just dark silhouettes.

  "Clio! Clio Martin!" Ms. DiLiberti called.

  I turned to face the counter, suddenly aware of a shaky feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was barely nine o'clock, and I was exhausted and emotionally wrung out. Just meet Clio and get it over with. But still, I felt nervous and anxious all over again.

  "See y all," said a voice. It sounded like my voice- except the word fall would never pass my lips. A fist of something like dread grabbed my stomach. I didn't know why I felt this way but I was barely able to keep it together. "Yes, Ms. DiLibertii. It wasn't me," said the voice. "I just got here."

  Ms. DiLiberti smiled wryly. "Amazingly, I haven't called you over to discuss your latest transgression," she said. 'After all, its only nine o'clock on the first day. I'll give you a little more time. But there's someone I want you to meet. Thais?'

  Slowly I turned, finally face-to-face with the mysterious-

  Me.

  I blinked, and for one second I almost put up a hand to see if someone had slipped a mirror in front of me. My eyes widened, and identical green eyes widened simultaneously. My mouth opened a tiny bit, and a mouth shaped like mine but with slightly darker lip gloss also opened. I stepped back automatically and quickly scanned this other me, this Clio.

  Our hair was different-hers was longer, I guessed, since it was in a messy knot on the back of her head. Mine was feathered in layers above my shoulders. She was wearing a white tank top and pink-and-red surfer shorts that laced up the front. She had a silver belly ring. We had the same long legs, the same arms. She had a slightly darker tan. We were the same height and looked like we were the same weight, or almost. And here was the really, really unbelievable part:

  We had the exact same strawberry birthmark, shaped like a crushed flower. Only hers was on her left cheekbone, and mine was on the right. We were identical two copies of the same person, peeled apart at some point to make mirror images of each other.

  Even though my brain was screaming in confusion, one coherent thought surfaced: there was only one possible explanation.

  Clio was my twin sister.

  Clio

  "Uh, My. Freaking. God.' I was vaguely aware the voice was mine, but everything else had faded away. The only thing in my universe just then was this girl, who had obviously been cloned from my DNA. Obvious-but impossible.

  Racey quickly looked at me, then at the other me, and she literally gasped. "Holy Mother" she breathed.

  The other me looked like someone had just put a binding spell on her-frozen in place, eyes open wide, muscles stiff. Then I noticed one difference between us.

  "Your face is gre
en," I said, just as her eyelids fluttered and she started to collapse.

  Racey and I caught her, and Ms. DiLiberti hustled out from behind the counter and led us into the assistant principals office. Someone got a wet paper towel. I fanned the new girls face with a copy of the student handbook.

  Almost immediately, she opened her eyes and sat up, though she was still kind of whitish green around the edges.

  I hadn't taken my eyes off her. So that's what I would look like with layered hair, I thought, realizing I felt stunned and not enjoying the experience. My heart was beating hard, and a million thoughts pushed insistently at my brain, I didn't want to let them in.

  "Who are you?" I asked. "Where are you from? Why are you here?"

  She drank some water that Ms. DiLiberti brought her and pushed her hair off her face. "I'm Thais Allard," she said, sounding almost exactly like me but more Yankee-ish.Tm from Connecticut, My dad died this summer, and my new guardian lives here, so I moved here."

  Her dad died. Who was he? I wanted to shout. Had that been my dad too? Had we been separated at birth and Thais adopted by strangers? Or maybe I-was Nan my nan? She had to be. But she'd never, ever mentioned that I might have a sister. And this girl, even if she was from the planet Xoron, had to be my sister. We were just too freakishly identical, down to our matching birthmarks. The birthmark that I'd alternately loved and hated, the one Andre had traced, had kissed just yesterday-was on her face.

  "Who was your dad?" I said. "Who's your new guardian?"

  Thais wavered and looked like she was about to turn on the faucets. Outside the office, we heard other students coming and going,

  "I'm going to be late for homeroom," she said faintly, and I thought, Sacree mere, she's a weenie.

  "Your teachers will understand," Ms, DiLiberti said firmly.

  "My dad was Michel Allard," the girl said. I'd never heard of him. "My new guardian is some weird friend of his." She shrugged, frowning.

 

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