by Nina Berry
“What?” Arnaldo’s brown eyes were like dagger points over his pointed nose. “You got my father arrested?”
“Hitting his sons is what got him arrested,” Caleb said swiftly.
Arnaldo didn’t seem to hear him. “What about my brothers? What’s happened to them?”
I made myself say it. “They’re in foster care, until a relative can be found to take them in.”
“Foster care?” Arnaldo’s sharp voice rose in alarm. “In some home?”
November exchanged a glance with London and mouthed the words “Holy shit.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. But maybe that’s better than—”
“Living in their own home?” Arnaldo stood up, throwing his napkin down. “They’re living with humdrums now. People who don’t understand them.”
“I live with humdrums,” I said. “It’s a lot better than being beaten up. And maybe once your father gets some help, he’ll be a better—”
“Shut up! What do you know about my father? What do you know about anything?” Arnaldo shoved himself away from the table and strode from the room.
November watched him go. “Nice job, Stripes.”
“You did the right thing,” Siku said unexpectedly through a mouthful.
“I’ve been worried about those kids too,” London said. “Do you really think they’ll be better off?”
“I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t speak up,” I said, staring after Arnaldo. “And you guys might not have to put up with me much longer. The Council told Morfael he has to kick me out by tomorrow morning.”
“What?” London’s forehead creased with distress. “Can they do that?”
November threw down a sausage. “Great. Just when we got the school up and running again. They’ll tell our parents, Wolfie. How long do you think your mom and dad will keep paying tuition if the Council tells them to pull you out?”
Amaris leaned over the table toward Caleb. “They don’t have any sway over us, do they?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you and I have to worry. Not right away at least.”
Siku bit into a strawberry, thinking hard. Still chewing, he said, “Did any of you tell your parents where the school is?”
November pulled her chin in, startled. “No, but what’s that got to do with it?”
London gave a quick laugh. “So they can tell us to leave all they want . . .”
Siku shrugged. “It’s up to us to decide if we listen to them.”
“Arnaldo won’t want to stay now,” I said. “He hates me.”
“He’s just scared,” said Amaris. “For his brothers.”
At that moment, Morfael glided into the room and crooked a long finger at me.
The others looked at me. “Private lessons in not killing computers,” I said, standing up. “For all the good that does me.”
As I left the table, the others resumed arguing about just how much control their parents had over them. It all depended on Morfael, really. If he kicked me out, they could stay in school without conflict. Maybe that was best for everyone. Everyone except me and Caleb.
Caleb grabbed my hand as I moved away and walked a few steps with me. “I know it was hard, but I’m glad you told Arnaldo. He had to know.”
“I hope he forgives me before I have to leave,” I said.
“I hope he forgives you after you stay.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek.
I wearily followed Morfael to the library, where he had two watches, an electric hand drill, a battered toaster, and a lamp laid out on the table. He also had a huge fern, which had hung by a window, set on the table next to the mechanical objects.
After getting me to concentrate on my breath for a few minutes, he told me to touch one of the watches and stop it. At first, nothing happened, then like the sting of a bee, my hand itched, and the second hand stopped moving.
“Now place that hand in the soil,” he said, pointing at the fern in its ceramic pot.
“Um, okay.” Having no idea what he was up to, I slid my hand between the fronds and laid my hand onto the dirt by the base of the fern. It felt cool, soothing. I focused on my breath again.
“Now with your other hand, take hold of the drill and turn it on,” said Morfael.
It sounded like the beginnings of a dirty joke, but I said nothing, taking hold of the base of the hand drill. I flipped the “on” switch. It hummed and vibrated slightly, ready to work.
“Now turn it off, using only your energy,” he said. “Remember the feel of the soil in your right hand, and direct any excess energy there.”
“So you think my green thumb’s connected to this whole anti-tech thing?” I asked.
“Did I say to ask questions?” he asked mildly.
Trying to remember how it felt when I’d touched the watch and stopped it, I leaned my mind into the drill slightly. Nothing happened.
“Is it that you think you know better than everyone else?” Morfael said casually, startling me out of my concentration. “Is that why you called Child Protective Services without telling anyone?”
“What? No!” I stared at him, one hand in dirt, the other gripping a rusty tool. “I just couldn’t stand thinking about Arnaldo’s brothers. . . .”
“That doesn’t explain the secrecy,” he said. “Are you afraid your friends will reject you if you reveal your arrogance to them?”
“My . . . no!” My grip tightened on the drill, my other hand clutching at the dirt in the fern’s pot. “I mean, I’m kind of worried they’ll think I’m full of myself. But I have to do the right thing.”
“And how do you know what the right thing is?” Morfael took two steps toward me, staff in hand, pale eyes aglow. “Do you plan to turn your leadership role in this group into a dictatorship?”
“Of course not!” I yelled. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
The drill in my hand stop-started, like it was shorting out. Morfael leaned in even closer, looming over me. “Quick, direct your emotions into the soil. Now!”
“But, I . . .”
“Now!!
Confused and angry, I shoved my focus to the dirt between my fingers, digging my nails down, feeling them sink deep into the damp gritty earth. The drill wound down its power slowly, then stopped dead. But it didn’t turn black or catch on fire. That was progress. The fern’s fronds seemed to stretch out another half an inch, glowing a slightly brighter green.
“Good,” said Morfael, his eyes crinkling in his version of a smile. “Now let it start up again.”
The anger and confusion I’d been feeling floated away as I realized he had deliberately provoked me. I released the soil in my right hand and relaxed. The drill flicked on again. The fern still looked bigger and healthier than it had before.
“You already have more control than you think,” Morfael said.
We spent the next two hours going through similar exercises, until I didn’t even need to touch the soil or the fern anymore. I could direct excess energy down through my feet to the floor, or imagine it spiraling away from an outstretched hand.
“It’s a total contradiction,” I said, after about an hour of this. “I have to tap into my feelings but control them at the same time.”
“It is the same when a caller manipulates shadow,” he said. “Now, go fetch the Shadow Blade.”
I did as I was told, and the effect of holding the Blade was like being buried up to my neck in the earth. I felt so calm, so centered, and my emotions were so accessible that I shorted the lamp out with a touch and turned the exterior of the toaster completely black, even as it finished toasting a slice of bread. When it popped up, smelling all warm and toasty, I grabbed it and took a bite. I was ravenous. Ravenous and tired.
“Silver will probably still make your skin itch,” Morfael said. “But with continued practice, you should be able to carry a phone for indefinite periods of time, and own a laptop without worrying you’ll destroy it in a day or two. Now go do your midday shift with the other
s, eat, and take a nap. You’re excused from other classes until two p.m. We will do this again tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” My heart jumped in my chest. “Will I still be here tomorrow?”
“You still have much to learn,” Morfael said dryly. “And so does the Council.”
“But, what if the other kids leave because you let me stay?”
He studied me. “Do you think they’ll do that?”
I stared back at him, remembering how quickly they had abandoned me when I’d shifted into my second animal form. But so much had happened since then. We had bonded. We were family. “No?” I said, making it a question.
He didn’t reply.
“But what if the Council tries to punish you, or their parents retaliate somehow?”
He nodded. “Actions have consequences. We can’t foresee all ends, but we can trust ourselves to deal with what is to come. Now go. You are tired.”
For once I slept deeply, dreaming about giant toasters and ferns like green octopi with eyes and fronds that grabbed me like tentacles.
At dinner, Arnaldo sat in his usual place, but didn’t look at me. I told Caleb quietly about my lesson with Morfael, and everyone else ate without speaking. Then I said, more loudly, “Morfael’s going to give me another lesson. Tomorrow.”
London perked up. “Tomorrow?”
Caleb hugged me. “I knew it!”
“Wow, so he’s not kicking you out?” November sucked on a chicken bone thoughtfully.
“I knew he wouldn’t,” Siku said.
I cleared my throat to help my voice sound casual. I thought I knew the answer to the question I was about to ask, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, especially when it came to Arnaldo. “So if the Council tells everyone’s parents to pull their kids out of school tomorrow, what happens?”
“The Council’s a bunch of fatheads,” said Siku. “I like it here.”
“I don’t think my parents will care much what the Council says,” November said. “We rats are more broad-minded.”
“Maybe our parents can’t come get us.” London let her knife drop with a clank onto her plate. “What about the Council? They could force us out.”
“Do they know the school’s location?” I asked.
“No,” said Caleb with a small smile. “Amaris and I will stay. Right, ’Mar?”
“Of course,” she said. “This is our home now.”
November grinned, showing all her little pointed teeth. “So they can take their order to leave and shove it.”
“Would you disobey your mother to stay?” Siku asked London. He was tearing apart an orange with his large but very dexterous hands.
She thought hard. “I guess maybe I would. You guys and Dez have been way more supportive than my damn family ever was. Mom can scream at me all she wants—from Idaho.”
Arnaldo hadn’t said anything. He’d looked around as everyone spoke.
November leaned over and stuck her nose in his face. “What about you, Arnaldo?” she asked.
“The hawk-shifter on the Council sent me a message,” he said quietly. “He’s helping me get a lawyer, so maybe I can get custody of my brothers.”
I blinked, a smile beginning to form. Siku leaned over and pounded him on the shoulder.
November stole a grape from his plate and popped it in her mouth. “That would be awesome.”
“So I guess I’m the head of my family now,” Arnaldo continued. His eyes met mine, and they weren’t warm, but they weren’t hostile either. “And if I want to stay here until my brothers are ready to come home with me, or have them come here to stay with me, then that’s what will happen.”
November grabbed a fistful of grapes and threw them up in the air, like confetti. “Hooray!”
Even London was smiling as the grapes bounced down. I sat back in my chair, relief flooding over me.
“So the Council and our parents don’t know where we are,” Siku said. “But Lazar does.”
“Kind of ass-backwards.” November stole a slice of his orange.
“He’s the key to our fight against the Tribunal this time,” I said.
“So let’s say he actually gives us the plans to this accelerator thingie instead of betraying us all,” said November as she sucked the orange slice. “What then?”
“We should just kill them all,” said London. “First we get the plans from Lazar, then we kill him to make sure he stays quiet.” She put a hand out toward me as I opened my mouth to protest. “Then we burn down wherever they are, and we hunt down all the other Tribunal compounds and do the same. Sorry, Amaris and Caleb. I know Lazar’s your brother, and your father’s involved and all that, but it’s the only way we can be sure.”
“Sure of what?” I said. “That we’re a bunch of murderers?”
“Sure of our safety,” said Caleb. “Sure of your safety and your mom’s and Richard’s.” He turned to London. “I agree with you.”
“If we kill them all, then we’ve proven they were right about us,” I said. “We’d be monsters.”
“So you know what’s right and wrong better than the rest of us, I guess,” said London. “We have our own opinions, you know. We’re not all just your servants.”
“I never said you were!” I said, standing up. “But I won’t be a party to slaughter. These are human beings we’re talking about. And if we can become friends with Amaris, maybe . . .”
“We’ll just hold hands with the Tribunal and sing ‘Kumbaya’?” November asked. “Puh-lease.”
“Amaris is different from the others,” Siku said.
“Exactly.” November nodded. “The Tribunal and the otherkin have been enemies since time began, Stripes. I know tigers are strong swimmers, but you’re paddling against the current on this one.”
“Never stopped me before,” I said. “Good night.”
I turned and headed down the steps toward our sleeping quarters, wishing for once I had my own room where I could be alone for a few hours, and not have to justify and explain everything I did and said.
I recognized Caleb’s firm footsteps catching up to me. I paused at the bottom of the stairs as he came down. “I’m sorry,” he said.
I avoided him, turning to move down the hall to the girls’ room. He pushed past me and made me stop, tilting my chin up to force me to look at him.
“Can we talk about it?” he said. “You’re acting so strange.”
“I’m acting strange?” I jerked my chin from his touch, feeling a rollercoaster mixture of flattery and irritation that he’d noticed. “I’m not the one talking about mass murder.”
“We’ve all had to kill at one point or another, to save ourselves,” he said. “It’s never easy, and it shouldn’t be, but if it helps save otherkin in the future . . .”
“Yes, I’ve killed,” I said. I wish I hadn’t but I had. “But there’s a big difference between self-defense against an imminent threat and cold-blooded killing against a hypothetical threat.”
“Hypothetical?” He pulled back a few inches. “The Tribunal’s not a hypothetical threat and you know it.”
“All I know,” I said, my voice coming out low and heated, “is that I won’t make a plan to kill hundreds of people in cold blood. I’ll do anything I have to do to find another way. Good night.” I pushed past him and shut the door behind me without looking back.
CHAPTER 12
The girls’ room was quiet after dinner. We all pretended to do our homework in silence for awhile. I couldn’t concentrate on the book I was reading about how the art and religion of Ancient Egypt, with its many animal-headed gods, had been inspired by its original ruling family of shifters. How could Caleb and I be in such different places when it came to Lazar?
“Hey—” Amaris had just walked in from the hallway. She came over to me, holding an open book, and sat down on my bed. “I’ve got a question about this history of the horse-shifters.”
I sat up, scooching next to her. “Yeah, I read that last term.”
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p; She pointed her finger at some text I recognized about how the early horse-shifters had given rise to the legends of centaurs, and said in a very low tone, “I’m talking to Lazar on the computer.”
I darted a surprised look at her, then looked around the room. Both London and November were as far away from my bed as they could be, heads down over books, with no sign they’d heard her. “Okay,” I said in a normal tone. “Let me show you on the computer.”
As we left the room, I looked over my shoulder. Neither November or London had stirred.
We moved quietly down the hall. No noise filtered out of the boys’ room, so maybe they were doing the sullen silence thing too. Once in the computer room, I shut and locked the door as Amaris pressed a few keys, and Lazar’s face, shadowed with bruises and tinted blue in the light of his monitor, appeared.
I sat down next to Amaris so we could both be seen on the computer’s camera. “Hi. We need to be quick. Everything okay?”
“Everything is good,” he said, a relieved smile breaking over his face. “I’ve got the plans. I can’t e-mail or send them to you without risking them finding out. What do you want to do?”
“We’ll meet you tonight and get them from you in person,” I said. “Amaris, can you get on that computer? Find somewhere near Vegas we can all get to, some hotel or something, and we’ll meet there at, say, one a.m.”
Amaris nodded, sliding her chair over in front of another computer to search.
Lazar cocked his head, his usually sunny hair almost greenish in the strange computer light. “Why can’t I just bring them to the school?”
“It can’t be here in case you’re followed.” I didn’t want him to know the others were prepared to kill him.
His eyes flicked to the image on his monitor, searching what had to be my face. “You still don’t trust me.”
“You’ve got a long way to go to earn that,” I said. “You better show up alone.”
He nodded. “And you? Will Caleb be there?”
I shot a look at Amaris, whose eyes were wide with apprehension. “Who comes with me is none of your business,” I said.
“Found a place, I think,” said Amaris, scooting back over to look into the camera on my monitor. “The Naiad Hotel and Casino, on the north side of Vegas.” She rattled off the address and Lazar scribbled it down. “There’s a bowling alley inside. We’ll meet you at the entrance.”