The Marked

by Inara Scott

  “Was she like this all weekend?” I asked Hennie.

  “Not this bad.” Hennie watched until Esther disappeared from view, and then whispered, “It is a little weird, don’t you think? How she changes when she’s acting?”

  I didn’t know how to respond without lying or making light of Esther’s very real problem. I decided I’d have to distract Hennie from the subject—never an easy prospect. To my relief, I noticed Barrett and a group of seniors approaching from the other direction. With a silent apology to Barrett for using him, I made a mental tug on his foot and watched as he kicked in response like a girl in a chorus line. It was a little trick I’d played on him before, so I figured he’d know it was me. The seniors all burst out laughing, and Barrett whirled around, grimacing when he spotted me across the hall.

  “D.! Good to see you,” he called out. “I hope you brought your shorts for our class today. I heard things could get hot this afternoon.”

  A burst of heat passed under the sole of my foot. I smiled and pretended I hadn’t noticed. Tara high-fived me as she passed.

  Hennie cocked her head, watching the group go by. “What was that all about? I heard they’re predicting cold weather all week.”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. Barrett hardly makes sense half the time. I can’t believe they actually let him teach a class.”

  We continued walking. “I almost forgot,” Hennie said. “How was the party?”

  “Eventful.” Relieved that I’d finally managed to get her off the topic of Esther, I briefly described the fight with the “gang from Seattle,” carefully retelling the story I’d told Grandma. Of course, I left out any mention of my altercation with Anna or of the note I’d found when I got home.

  Hennie shuddered. “You must have been terrified.”

  “I guess. Mostly, I felt stupid letting Cam and the others do all the fighting while I stood around and did nothing.”

  Hennie wrinkled her perfect button nose. “So you should have thrown yourself in front of someone’s fist even though you knew you’d just end up getting hurt? That’s crazy.”

  “Maybe.” My lips twisted into a smile. “My grandma wouldn’t think I was crazy, though. She wants me to be able to defend myself. She said I need more practice.”

  “Practice fighting?” Hennie shook her head in wonder. “I can’t imagine how much trouble I’d be in if I got in a fight. My parents would never forgive me.”

  “You know, my grandpa died when Grandma was young, and then my mom and dad died, too. She probably just wants me to be able to take care of myself, in case something happens to her.”

  I’d never thought much about it before, but Grandma had always encouraged me to do things on my own, even things a kid shouldn’t do. Like driving the car when I was thirteen, or learning to shop and cook when I was in elementary school.

  “So, what are you going to do about it? Weren’t you in a self-defense class last semester?”

  “Yeah. It didn’t stick.” I had a sudden brainstorm. “I should ask Cam to tutor me!”

  “Oh, good idea. I’m sure you’ll get a lot of practicing done with him.” Hennie rolled her eyes.

  I hit her playfully as we started down the stairs. “Seriously, it would be nice to be a little tougher.”

  “So you can be like Anna?” Hennie inclined her head toward Anna, who was at the bottom of the stairwell, speaking to Trevor and Molly. Her ponytail swung back and forth as she talked, her hands waving.

  “How’d you guess?”

  Just the sight of Anna was enough to wipe the smile off my face. She must have felt my presence, because she stopped talking and tipped her head in my direction. Trevor and Molly leaned in as she whispered something, and all three gazed up at us. Then they turned their backs deliberately and moved down the hall.

  Hennie gasped. “Wow, that was harsh.” She pulled me to one side, dodging traffic and stumbling on the edge of her shoe. “Did something happen with Anna this weekend?”

  I laughed nervously, not meeting her eyes. “Apart from the usual ‘she hates me with a fiery passion’ stuff?”

  “Dancia, they just treated you like you’ve got the plague! Something happened at the party. Something you’re not telling me.”

  I bit my lip, “It was nothing new. Anna kept throwing herself at Cam, but that’s just par for the course.”

  “Throwing herself at him how?” Hennie asked. “Short skirt and cleavage? Karaoke?”

  “She tried to make it seem like he still liked her and he and I had nothing in common. They played music together, and she sent me on errands for soda. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “What did Cam do?”

  “He’s oblivious. Anna is one of his best friends, and they’re both way into music. I’m sure it seemed normal for him to spend the night next to the stereo.”

  “So, he deserted you?” she said, narrowing her gaze.

  “No! Well, sort of. A little. But not completely. And he made up for it at the end of the night.”

  “You’re sure? How’d he make up for it?”

  I reveled in the memory of that long, lovely kiss. “He made out with me right in front of Anna.”

  Hennie glowed with delight. “Well that does make up for it. She must have hated that.” The bell rang, and we hurried down the rest of the stairs. We paused when we reached the bottom, as Hennie’s class was to the right and mine to the left. “I’m still not sure that explains why Trevor and Molly were so rude.”

  I shrugged off her concern. “Don’t worry about them. The important thing is that Cam and I are doing great. He was so sweet after the party and supercool with Grandma, even though she gave him a hard time.”

  Hennie wasn’t convinced, but I seemed to have partly mollified her. “If things get worse with Anna, you’ve got to tell me about it. You know that, right?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  I hurried to my English class, the sour taste of guilt in my mouth, but stopped when I saw Trevor heading my way. I debated whether I should say something or not, and quickly decided I couldn’t let it go. I marched over to him, my mind filled with the vision of Esther’s eye’s pooling with tears.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said.

  He sighed. “We can hardly talk about this here at school. I must say, for your sake, I hope Anna is wrong. If you’re in contact with him—”

  I held up my hand. Later, I would worry about what he and Anna thought about me. Right now, my anger was more important. “Not about that. About Esther.”

  “Esther?” His eyes widened. “What about her?”

  “Stay away from her. That’s what.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  He turned to walk past me, but I planted myself in front of him. “I’m talking about your performance in the library this weekend. What was that all about? One minute you’re talking to her and the next you blow her off?”

  “I got a call from Mr. Judan,” Trevor said. “He wanted to meet with all of us. It isn’t like I had a choice. I don’t see what the big deal is, anyway.”

  “She thinks you like her,” I said, poking him in the chest with one finger. “She knows you’re watching her, and she thinks it’s for an entirely different reason than the real one.”

  Trevor shifted his backpack over his shoulder and shuffled his feet. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I don’t care what you meant,” I said. “She’s my friend, and you’re hurting her feelings. Either figure out how to be discreet or find someone else to be her Watcher. Got it?”

  With that, I turned and marched away, leaving him in stunned, openmouthed silence.

  It had been a miserable day, and I had a feeling things were only going to get worse. But for one brief moment, I couldn’t help smiling.

  AFTER LUNCH, I headed for my focus class with Barrett and Mr. Fritz. I hadn’t seen Cam. I figured he was holed up with Mr. Judan, planning nasty things to do to the Irin. It was actually a relief not to hav
e run into him. I was afraid my guilt about contacting Jack would be visible on my face.

  Mr. Fritz greeted me at the door. “You can set down your backpack and grab your jacket, Dancia. We’re headed to the woods today.”

  I was surprised. After the big fight at Anna’s house, I figured we’d be spending this session processing the event, maybe even debating philosophical questions that would leave my brain aching. I had actually been looking forward to it. I’d been thinking about Ethan Hannigan, Jack, and the Irin all day. I could have used something to distract me.

  I grabbed my sweatshirt and followed him down the hall. Though I was still irritated with Barrett for not getting involved at Anna’s house, it was impossible to have too much righteous anger now that I’d talked to Jack. Everything about the Irin seemed hopelessly complicated, and what Barrett had said right before the fight—“they created this”—was strangely in line with what Jack had said about the Watchers killing Ethan Hannigan.

  In any case, Barrett was uncharacteristically serious. He walked with more purpose than usual, striding forward impatiently, his long, long legs eating up the distance.

  No one spoke until we reached a secluded spot in the woods. Giant Doug firs loomed over our heads, while the bare branches of the maple trees shuddered in the breeze. The ground was soft and springy, littered with broken sticks, fallen leaves, and the decayed remnants of ferns. On one side of the clearing, the earth sloped sharply away, and you could see from the tops of the trees that we were on the edge of a ravine. The woods around Delcroix were like that. Even though you didn’t get much altitude change overall, there were unexpected ridges and slopes around every corner.

  I had often wondered if that was due to Program students practicing their talents. Maybe someone had a talent for digging trenches, or moving soil. Or blowing things up.

  Mr. Anderson stood at the far side of the clearing, arms resting on top of his belly, his jaw set.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said.

  That’s when I started to get nervous. He wasn’t looking at me, in spite of my repeated attempts to catch his eye.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep a smile on my face. “They can still hear me scream from here, you know.” Barrett, Mr. Fritz, and Mr. Anderson formed a rough triangle, with me in the center. I spun around. “Is this some kind of game, Mr. Fritz? One of your little tests, perhaps?”

  “More of an activity than a test,” Mr. Fritz said.

  Barrett and Mr. Anderson each took a step closer. My heart started to race. I was pinned among the three of them. Surrounded. I tried to back up.

  “Sorry, but you aren’t going anywhere,” Barrett said. “Not until we have our lesson.”

  “You’re starting to freak me out,” I said, glancing at him. “What’s the lesson?”

  “We aren’t quite sure yet,” Mr. Fritz said. “We’ll have to see when we’re done.”

  I dropped my sweatshirt on the ground. “Fine. Do I take you on one at a time, or all at once?”

  Mr. Anderson raised both hands. “All at once.”

  I gaped openmouthed at Mr. Fritz. “Seriously?”

  He had barely nodded when Barrett launched the first shot. Heat entered my body through my toes and rippled up my legs. My heart began thumping in an unsteady rhythm. I held out my hands, and, as I watched, my skin flushed a dark pink. Tiny wisps of smoke trailed from my fingers.

  It was beautiful but distinctly uncomfortable, like I’d been left to bake in the sun on the hottest day of the year. My face throbbed, and the air that came in through my nose singed my throat and lungs.

  “I know you aren’t ready for this,” Mr. Fritz said regretfully. “But we didn’t have a choice. We had to move forward.”

  I wanted to ask why, what had changed, but the heat in my blood made it impossible to think. I inhaled more deeply, trying to ignore the sensations running through my body. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Fight back. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  I tried to make sense of what was happening. Why had they all turned against me?

  Mr. Fritz seemed to understand. “You’re struggling; I thought you might. I’ll be honest with you: this isn’t going to be easy.”

  “Thanks for the encouraging words,” I panted.

  With every breath, I was getting hotter. Barrett wasn’t letting up. I forced myself to squint in his direction. I had to locate the strings around him to pluck the one that would send him crashing to the ground. A smoky haze ran through the clearing, obscuring my vision, but I finally made out the dim image of the dark lines that were my only hope of survival.

  I forced the information into my clouded brain. Prickles of fire sent my fingers twitching. I lashed out frantically, tugging the cord that held Barrett to the earth. He fell backward and landed on the ground, flat-backed and limp.

  I thought I might have seriously hurt him, because he stayed still and the heat began to fade. I started to take a step toward him, terrified to look at what I’d done, when I felt a tug at the front of my foot and almost lost my balance. I looked down and realized that a thin length of ivy had wrapped itself around my shoe. I shook it off, thinking I’d somehow stepped into it, when another one started to crawl toward me from the edge of the clearing.

  I whipped around to face Mr. Anderson and saw that he was muttering to himself, pacing and running his fingers through the ring of hair that encircled the crown of his head. All around me, plants were stirring, reaching, and growing. Vines, like tiny fingers, stretched and moved along the grass. The ivy I had shaken off rose up like the periscope of a submarine, surveyed the clearing until it found me, then began moving in my direction.

  I gasped. “Mr. Fritz, call it off! Whatever point you’re making, I give up. You’re right.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, Dancia. I can’t do that. You fight until the end.”

  The end? As in, the end of my life? Barrett still wasn’t moving, but the heat had resumed, so I figured he must be okay. The ivy crawled up and over the top of my shoe. A blackberry bramble scraped the back of my calf, its thorns digging into my ankle. Why, oh, why had I worn a skirt today? I moved a few feet away, but they kept coming, wrapping themselves around my legs and holding me fast.

  Barrett lifted himself up onto his elbows. I breathed a sigh of relief even as I felt a wave of anger. He was smiling. Or rather, smirking. “Giving up so soon? I thought you’d at least make us work for it.”

  “This isn’t fair,” I said. “You haven’t told me the rules. I don’t know what we’re fighting for. I don’t know how to win!”

  “There are no rules,” Mr. Fritz said.

  “I don’t know how you can win, but I know how you’re going to lose,” Barrett said.

  “Stop being so mean!” I cried.

  Pain stabbed my ankle. While I’d been watching Barrett, a bramble had tightened around it. I didn’t know how to unwind it without the thorns digging in deeper, so I focused on stopping Mr. Anderson himself. He was bigger than Barrett, his tie to the earth stronger. Throwing Barrett to the ground hadn’t made much of a difference, so I decided to go the opposite route with Mr. Anderson, and make him fly. I’d never tried it before, but I didn’t have a choice.

  I took a deep breath and visualized myself brushing piles of debris and clutter from my mind, leaving behind a clean and empty slate. The irony of that moment was breathtaking; I was using techniques Barrett had taught me only a few weeks before, in order to prepare my mind to fight. I raised my hands, momentarily distracted by the white smoke curling around my fingertips. My skin was a darker red now, as if I’d had a bad sunburn. The heat made it difficult to concentrate, but I clung to the image of my empty mind. When my control felt strong enough, I poured all my attention into the black cords that surrounded Mr. Anderson, from ground to sky. Gently, I pulled on the top one and held it there, straining to keep my energy focused.

  He let out an exclamation when first one foot, then the ot
her lost contact with the ground. I moved the cord gently up and down, and Mr. Anderson did the same, jerking it like a yo-yo. Triumph swelled within me when I felt the bramble around my ankle relax. Carefully, I bent over to unwrap the now-still vine, but as I looked down, the steady heat in my body pulsed with a startling intensity. The pain was so strong I staggered back, losing my grip on Mr. Anderson’s cord. He swore violently as he dropped to the ground.

  I yanked on Barrett, trying to send him back to the ground, but he barely moved before sending another flash of heat through my body. Through swollen eyes, I watched Mr. Anderson rise to his feet; the blackberry vine I still held in my fingers squirmed and wriggled, its thorns digging into the burned skin of my palm.

  It was like Whac-A-Mole at the county fair. Each time I knocked one of the men down, the other popped up to assault me anew.

  I felt a rush of fury. They were destroying me, and I was holding back, out of some childish fear of hurting them. I glared at Barrett and abandoned any attempt at moderation. With all the energy I had left, I jerked on his cord. This time, I think I did hurt him, because he grunted and the heat abruptly disappeared. The relief was overwhelming.

  “Ready to give up?” I yelled.

  “We’re just getting started,” came the hoarse reply from the limp form on the ground.

  I jumped; the soles of my feet burned as if they’d caught on fire. I danced back and forth to lessen the sting.

  “This is worse than I thought,” Mr. Fritz said sadly. “Don’t you realize they’re just toying with you? You’ll have to think of something much better if you expect to win.”

  I continued to hop from foot to foot. “Would you please shut up?”

  “Perhaps if you beg them to go easy on you, it will help.”

  The suggestion shocked me. If Mr. Fritz thought I had no chance, why was I bothering to fight?

  “You want me to give up?” I asked. Leaves rustled behind me. I figured Mr. Anderson was back at work, but I couldn’t screw up the courage to turn around.

  He shrugged. “If you’re certain to lose, perhaps that would be the best course.”