by W. J. May
“Hey, Simon!”
And speak of the devil…
Simon’s face lit up with an automatic smile as Tristan made his way towards him through the busy crowd. Boys parted automatically to let him through, but instead of reveling in it the way that Simon did Tristan didn’t seem to notice. He just skidded to a stop on the slick marble floor, his wet hair inadvertently slinging drops of rainwater into Simon’s face.
“Thanks for that.” Simon flinched, wiping his eyes.
“Sorry.” Tristan grinned, looking not sorry at all. “So Jason just caught me on my way to history, wanted to talk to you. Said that since the two of us wore each other’s friendship bracelets now, I could pass the message along.”
Simon grimaced painfully. He could exactly picture Jason saying that.
“I know,” Tristan chuckled breathlessly. “I wouldn’t spend too much time over-thinking that. Anyway—he wants to see you right after class. Not for a session, just to talk.”
Tristan’s face lit up excitedly, but Simon just shook his head, looking blank. When he didn’t get the response he wanted, Tristan rolled his eyes and tried again.
“Just the two of you.”
Still nothing.
“Alone.”
Simon cocked his eyebrows in a look of mock seriousness. “Tris, if you’re trying to tell me that Jason’s going to ask me to the dance, I really don’t know how I feel about that—”
“He’s going to talk to you about the recruiter!” Tristan interrupted impatiently.
Simon took a step back. His mouth fell open, but no words came out. He simply blinked at the floor, trying to gather his thoughts together. “Are you…are you sure?”
Tristan was grinning from ear to ear, bouncing from foot to foot, unable to keep still. It was a habit that Simon teased him about constantly, the fox-ish need to keep moving. Today, he was so distracted he didn’t even notice.
“I’m positive,” Tristan replied. “It’s exactly what they did to me. First I met with Jason. We set up a time and he told me a little about what to expect. The next day, the recruiter came to watch my training session.”
A smile started creeping across Simon’s face, despite his best efforts to control it.
He may have single-handedly started a secret organization whose sole purpose was to challenge the authorities that be, but that didn’t mean, under any circumstances, that he didn’t want to work for the Privy Council. Quite the contrary. A huge step in his plan to start shaking things up was contingent upon the fact that he was offered a job come graduation. Once he was an official PC agent, he could start working from the inside. Changing things little by little, step by step, until the Council and eventually the school itself had a system that everyone could adhere to. A system free from the antiquated restraints of conformity. A system that made sense.
He and Tristan talked about it all the time. What they were going to do when they became super-spies. Although there was no way to be certain, they automatically assumed that they’d be paired together. Apparently, a lot of sparring partners went on to spend at least a few years working together as spies. In Simon and Tristan’s opinion, they were perfect candidates. Once they were on the payroll and free from the walls of the school, the world would be theirs for the taking. There was literally no limit to the things that they could accomplish.
And today? This recruiter? This was the first step.
“I can’t believe it,” Simon muttered softly.
He literally couldn’t. He felt as though he’d been waiting for this day for so long.
Tristan clapped him excitedly on the shoulder. “Believe it. And get ready. It’s all about to start happening. Just like we always thought.”
A flush of color lit his cheeks and Simon started beaming uncontrollably, imagining all the possibilities. Of course, he still had to charm this recruiter first. And get offered a job.
“So today is just with Jason?” he double-checked, feeling suddenly nervous.
What kinds of things was he supposed to ask the recruiter? What kinds of things would the recruiter ask him? What if Jason was still so angry that he didn’t loan Simon his tatù before their session and he was stuck with a set of passive ink? Or even worse…
…what if he accidently turned into a dog again?
Tristan read his thoughts as easily as if they were his own.
“Yeah, today is just with Jason,” he answered calmly. “And we can meet up tonight and go over all the things you should and shouldn’t say to the recruiter. You know, see if we can take that withered personality of yours and infuse it with some of my natural charm.”
It was a testament to how suddenly nervous Simon was that he accepted this without so much as a word. Tristan’s eyes softened sympathetically and he clapped him once more on the back.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine, alright?” He gestured to Simon’s arm with a contagious kind of confidence. “You have a freaking warlock, man. They’re going to want that on their side.”
“Yeah.” Simon nodded quickly, trying to steel himself. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I always am.” Tristan glanced over his shoulder as the bell rang. “So listen, this thing with Jason only took a minute or two when I did it myself. You still coming to the study group today?”
Simon nodded quickly. “Wouldn’t miss it. Actually,” he added, “we’ve got a new guy coming. A first- year who can manipulate metal.”
He instantly wished he’d gotten the kid’s name. Tristan always asked him their names, and he always forgot. He remembered the ink instead.
But Tristan was too hyped up to care. He simply grinned as he started heading off to the biology department. “That’s awesome! I’ll see you there!”
Simon felt a stab of guilt as he lifted his hand to wave goodbye. Yeah, it was awesome. He could feel it right now, humming away under his skin. But at the moment, he had bigger fish to fry.
Screw the recruiter… what the hell was he going to say to Jason?
* * *
By the time Simon got out of class, the drizzle of rain had turned into a regular downpour. He pulled his jacket over his head as he streaked across the grass to get the Oratory, wishing he had either Tristan’s or Jason’s ink to get him there faster.
He still didn’t know exactly what he was going to say, but he figured he’d let Jason take the reins and follow his lead. They weren’t overtly feuding, after all. It was more of a cold war.
And Jason would put that aside in light of something as big as a recruiter, wouldn’t he?
When he finally pushed open the door to the Oratory, he found a trio of first-years hard at work inside. To an outside perspective, it must have looked like the most ridiculous thing in the world. But by Guilder standards, the whole thing was just your average Tuesday afternoon.
There was an old water bucket floating about fifty feet up in the air. It was being held there by Zane Remmers, the boy with advanced telekinesis who also happened to be one of the founding members of the H.O.C. Standing on one side of him, a kid with a shock of dark black hair was pelting one side of the bucket with handfuls of liquid fire. On the other side, a water bug with an ability very similar to Kate’s was putting out the flames.
As Zane lifted a hand to wave to Simon, the bucket dropped a few inches. Simon waved back, but pointed to the smoking pail with a grin. “Careful! You let it fall, Jason’s going to have you running laps in here till nightfall.”
“This?” Zane scoffed and held up a single finger, brushing the air beside it as if balancing a basketball. Fifty feet above, the bucket started spinning. “This is nothing. Could do it in my sleep.”
Simon rolled his eyes indulgently. “Sure.”
He knew firsthand that Zane was often prone to fits of over-enthusiasm. Fits where things tended to…get away from him.
There was a crack in the air as the bucket shattered into a hundred pieces.
The three kids jumped back to avoid the falling debris while Simon chuck
led softly, repeating himself under his breath. “Sure.”
Zane blushed in embarrassment, but he was already floating another one over from a shelf on the far wall. As it drifted their way, he turned to Simon eagerly. “Oh hey, I almost forgot. Did my friend Max come and see you today? You know,” he dropped his voice conspiratorially, “about the study group?”
“Remmers!” Jason’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. “I’m going to give you about two seconds to figure out whether or not I want you to be standing around here talking.”
As the infamous trainer walked towards them, Zane vanished so fast that Simon could have sworn he used a speed tatù. Jason’s eyes flickered between the two of them for a moment before he raised a hand and gestured Simon into the hall.
“Come on, Kerrigan. We’ll talk in my office.”
So it was Kerrigan again, was it? Guess the cold war just heated up a few hundred degrees.
Simon followed Jason back into his office, keeping a good deal of space between them. He kept his eyes trained warily across the desk, and shut the door as they sat down.
“So…” he began nervously. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Jason’s eyes fixed on him intently for a moment before he began re-stacking the mess of papers on his desk. “Yeah. I’ve set up a meeting with a PC recruiter for tomorrow afternoon. He’ll observe a standard training session, and afterwards you’ll be given the chance to ask him some questions about possible job placement.”
Simon’s heart leapt in his chest. He’d known it was coming but even so, hearing the news here in Jason’s office was a lot different than hearing it from Tristan in the middle of the hall. And the fact that it had been Jason’s idea? That he set up the meeting himself?
“That’s,” Simon cleared his throat and tried to contain his smile, “that’s incredible. Thank you so much for the opportunity—”
“I just wanted to make sure it was something you were still interested in,” Jason interrupted, looking up at him sharply. “I know you’ve had your hands full lately—what with finals and all. Been spending so much time studying…”
A cold chill ran up Simon’s skin as he locked eyes with his mentor. The way he’d said it was undeniable. Except, there was no way that Jason could possibly know what was going on.
…could he?
“I’m still interested,” Simon replied, slow and deliberate. Although his heart was hammering away in his chest, he forced himself to maintain eye-contact the entire time.
It was like staring into an x-ray.
Jason’s bright eyes didn’t just look at him—they looked through him. Piercing his skull to get at the secrets buried deep within his mind. It was times like these that Simon wondered if Jason regretted saving his life in the first place. They had barely talked since then, and Simon’s unlikely survival seemed to have caused his mentor nothing but stress and reprisal.
A fact that Simon was well aware he wasn’t helping by meeting with his group of future outlaws every Tuesday after school.
“Are you going to be there?” Simon asked quietly. He tossed it out as if it didn’t really matter, but in truth it couldn’t have mattered more. No matter how strained their current relationship was, Simon still trusted Jason with his life. He’d become a walking, talking, often-yelling security blanket, and Simon needed him to be there when he met with the recruiter. He didn’t know how he’d be able to do it otherwise.
Jason gave him another long look. A look that reminded Simon that his mentor was actually quite a few years older than he was. “You want me there?”
Their eyes met for a split second, then Simon nodded quickly at the floor. “Yes.”
It should have been embarrassing, but it wasn’t. It was simply the way it was. The bond between a botcher and his apprentice was always strong, and Simon and Jason had been through more than most.
“Then I’m there.”
Simon would have given anything for him to smile. To see that fleeting twinkle in his eye that let Simon know that everything was okay. But nothing happened.
Simon was off to his secret meeting, a meeting that it seemed like Jason knew all about. And Jason was probably off to pound his head against the wall in his dead-end investigation.
There would be no smiles today.
“Well…thanks.” Simon pushed to his feet, feeling rather depressed despite the happy circumstances that had called him into the meeting. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jason didn’t look up. He just nodded at his papers, and Simon slipped outside, feeling as though every Tuesday afternoon he was driving the knife a little farther into his mentor’s back.
Is it possible that Jason actually knows? Simon mulled over the possibility as he made his way back through the Oratory and to the parking lot outside. Argyle had loaned him his car for the day, and he hopped inside without a second thought, without even a glance back at the school.
He had long ago come to terms with the fact that somehow, however impossible it might seem, there was very little that went on in this world that Jason didn’t know. He was simply one of those infallible characters in Simon’s life. The kind of person who could be trusted with absolutely anything because they would always come through. Because there was quite simply nothing that escaped them. Nothing they weren’t capable of.
Strangely enough, before now, Simon had always taken great comfort in that fact. Knowing that, no matter what happened, Jason would always be there. Whether he was in danger, whether he was simply confused, whether he had accidently turned into a freaking dog—it didn’t matter. Jason would be there, and he would know what to do. It might be reluctant. Hell, in the end, Simon might wish that he had ended up just staying a dog. But Jason would be there. He would take care of it.
‘I’m going to find out what happened, Simon. You have my word on that.’
Jason’s promise echoed back through Simon’s brain as he stepped on the gas and took off towards London. He trusted Jason. He really did. But every day that passed was another day that the trail went cold. Why not get a few more people in on the action? Twenty heads were better than one, right? It seemed to make sense, and for the moment it soothed him.
But the farther he got from Guilder, and the closer he got to the city, the more he was sure that Jason wouldn’t feel the same way…
* * *
By the time Simon got to Jake’s Grill in London, the already-heavy downpour had turned into something more closely resembling a monsoon. The skies were black and dangerous, fractured with streaks of lightning and bursts of roaring thunder. The roads were slick with a standing inch of water, and every few miles Simon had seen another car hydroplane.
He pulled into the parking space with a sigh of relief, leaning his head against the steering wheel as he offered a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t crashed his friend’s car.
I think even Argyle the pacifist might have killed me for that…
The mood inside the diner couldn’t have been more different than the mood out. Loud bursts of laughter echoed through the place, the smell of burgers and warm chips steamed up the windows, and the host of around twenty or so cheerful boys made the entire room look like some kind of damp Tommy Hilfiger ad.
The long table grew even more festive as Simon made his way inside. People greeted him cheerfully and made a path as he made his way to where Tristan sat at the end of the table. The flirtatious waitress was at it again, and this time she was being much more difficult to ignore.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a refill?” she asked seductively, biting her heavily glossed lips as she stared at him through her lashes. “I’d be happy to get you anything you need…”
“That is a kind offer, Tristan,” Isaac said with a wicked grin, ignoring his friend’s pained expression as he stared pointedly down at his plate. “How about it? Fancy a—”
“He’s fine. Thanks.” Simon interrupted them smoothly, inadvertently pushing the girl back as he pulled out a chair alongside th
e aisle.
She disappeared with an audible huff, and Tristan kicked Isaac sharply in the legs before flashing Simon a quick look of gratitude. “Thanks. She’s getting to be a problem, that one.”
Simon grinned, but kept his jokes to himself. “It’s no problem.” He alone knew that his best friend’s heart already belonged to someone else. After Simon had found her picture nestled in one of Tristan’s books, they had talked about the now-famous Marian—aka Mary—Duvall many times. And although he kept up his flirtatious reputation in front of the rest of the guys, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to do so.
“So…” Simon dropped his voice to a low murmur, “did you ask her?”
Tristan had been agonizing about whether or not to ask her to the dance. It was a difficult call, as Mary had proven to be the only girl on the planet seemingly resistant to his charms. But as the big day was less than a week away, time had become an issue.
“I asked her to meet me in the city this weekend,” Tristan replied. “Thought I’d give her a chance to shoot me down in person.”
The words were casual, but his voice was tight. Simon gave him a sympathetic clap on the shoulder. “How about we just start the meeting,” he said graciously, “help take your mind off…”
His voice trailed away and his eyes widened as they focused on something outside the window. There was a person standing in the rain. Soaking wet, although he didn’t seem to notice. Staring inside, although he didn’t seem to notice that either.
Tristan twisted around and followed his gaze. His face tightened with concern as his jaw dropped open in surprise. “Is that…?”
The next second, both he and Simon were out the door. The rest of the boys stayed inside but pressed their faces up against the window, trying to see what they could of the action.
“Jacob?” Simon ventured towards him carefully, as if at any moment he might run away. “Is everything okay?”
It was a stupid question. Everything was most definitely not okay. In fact, Simon had never seen someone look so overwhelmingly defeated and lost in his entire life.