by John Goode
“SO HOW was your day?” my dad asked after I hung up.
For some reason, telling him I got stabbed in the chest and didn’t die seemed like a bad idea, so instead I gave my usual “It was cool.”
“Any homework?” I shook my head no. “Any rain?” he inquired, which was him going for the Dad of the Year award compared to his normal level of interest in school.
I looked over at him with a “give me a break” look. “What’s up?” I asked him.
He sighed and sat down, looking more like a kid who got caught in a lie than a father. “My agent called today.”
“You still have an agent?” I probably shouldn’t have sounded that surprised.
“You do know I make music for a living right?” he responded with just a little more sarcasm than was needed.
“I didn’t know you needed an agent to play a flute.”
“Without that flute…,” he began. Helpfully, I finished the sentence for him. “…I wouldn’t be alive. I know, I know.”
“Anyway,” he pressed on, ignoring my usual apathy for all aspects of his career. “She called and said there is a gig starting this weekend and could extend till next week.”
“A paying gig?” I still could not believe someone would pay to hear what I put my iPod on to escape.
His eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Yes. It’s in Berkeley, and they are only willing to pay for me.”
I wasn’t sure who else they were supposed to pay for when I realized what Dad meant.
“You mean me?” I asked, pointing at myself. “Why would I want to go?”
“It’s a festival. They want me for five days, and I don’t feel right leaving you alone for that long,” he lamented, meaning he had already turned the gig down.
“Dad,” I said, trying hard not to roll my eyes. “I am almost seventeen years old. You do know I can stay by myself and not go all Lord of the Flies right?”
He stared at me for a long second. “I was more thinking Home Alone.”
Now I did roll my eyes. “Dad, come on!”
“Five days is a long time, Kane,” he tried to reason with me.
“No it isn’t. Look, Jewel’s mom can check up on me, and you can call every day,” I argued. “You haven’t played live since—” And I stopped myself. “—for a long time,” I amended. “You should do this.”
“What if it rains?”
“Dad!”
He seemed skeptical, but I could tell he really wanted to go. “And you wouldn’t be mad?” he asked sheepishly.
“Mad? Why would I be mad?”
In a small voice he explained, “I haven’t left you alone that long, ever.”
“Look, Dad, you raised me, and by the way, bravo on that.” That made him smile. “You put your life on hold long enough. If you want to go, then go. Seriously, I am in no way going to be mad.”
“Really?” he asked hopefully.
“For reals,” I assured him. “’Sides I could do with you not being underfoot all the time.”
He laughed. “You sound like your mother.”
Which was about the greatest compliment he could give another person.
“I’ll go call Jenny and tell her I can go,” he said excitedly. He seemed years younger as he turned and bounded up the stairs.
“Kids,” I said out loud, chuckling.
THE FATHER walked right past him as he climbed the stairs, never noticing.
He resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief; after all, his Charms could only mask so much. He still had no idea how the boy had seen him at the academy, but whatever skill the son had, it was not passed down from the father. Hawk carefully made his way down the stairs, making sure he kept himself light in case they had a tendency to creak.
The place was filthy, at least by his standards. If his mother had ever seen their domicile in such a state, she would have executed the entire staff as a cautionary lesson to others. The boy’s house was miserably small, though. Perhaps they had no cleaning people.
The thought alone made him shiver.
He edged down the last few steps and took a careful look around the corner. The boy sat at a small rectangle-shaped table and placed something into his ears. He had seen other youths with similar appliances dangling from their ears earlier and assumed they were some form of protection. From what, he had no idea. He didn’t think humans suffered from any vulnerability from Music like his own people did. In fact, this place seemed devoid of anything that he would consider a predator, unless he counted the filth. The entire town could be considered one step above a dumping ground in Arcadia and that was only because of its lack of visible corpses. Spike had advised him repeatedly to learn tolerance; he had reminded Spike to remember his place.
“I got it!” the father exclaimed as he rushed down the stairs. The stranger pressed himself up against the wall as the man passed by him, unaware how close he had been to colliding with him. “She said I got it!”
The boy didn’t respond; curious, he looked around the corner to see the interaction. The father waved his hand in front of boy’s face. “Hey!” he called out. Startled, the boy looked up and pulled out the stoppers. He could hear the very distant strains of what he had already discovered this side called “just music” coming from them. A Music device? Or perhaps a device to cancel out Music? That would be ingenious. The older man repeated, “I got it! I leave tomorrow!”
“Awesome, Dad,” the boy replied.
He wasn’t sure what an awesome was, but he believed it was a form of adulation for them.
“Okay I need to collect my stuff. Can you call Jewel’s parents so I can talk to them?” The man spoke quickly as he turned back toward the stairs. “Let me know when the food arrives!” he added as he climbed the steps by two and three at a time.
Hawk stood there, trying to decipher the meaning of their conversation, when he saw the boy look up and look directly at him.
MY DAD was such a spaz I had to love it.
He sounded shocked that the lady who had called him and asked him to play would then say she wanted him to come and play. I may not like his music, but I do know he is very good.
And the boy from school was standing at the foot of my stairs peeking into the kitchen.
“Hey!” I shouted, lunging to my feet and sending my chair flying.
I saw the same look of shock and outrage on his face when he realized I had seen him. Startled, he ducked back around the corner toward the stairs. I ran the few feet from the table to the door, expecting to see him escaping up them, but the stairway was empty. Which, once again, should have been impossible.
I bolted up as fast as I could and saw the door to my room swinging shut.
With no idea what I was going to do if I caught him, I charged after him, throwing my door open with a loud, “A ha!”
But my room was empty. I saw my curtains blowing freely from the open window. I felt the night air as I walked cautiously to the window and then looked down across our very empty yard. A dog barked out in the distance. No one could have made it up those stairs and out a second-story window that quickly, it was humanly impossible.
The doorbell rang, breaking my concentration.
“What in the hell?” I muttered, closing my window and locking it. The delivery guy rang the bell again as I turned and ran down the stairs. “Hold on!” I screamed in frustration.
THIS TIME he did let out a sigh of relief as he clung to the roof, mere inches away from the top of the boy’s window. Twice the boy had seen him, and this time he had been consciously using his Charm to mask his presence.
There was no way the boy was a Dark, and he seemed to possess no Arts to speak of, yet he was immune to every one of Hawk’s abilities.
“I hate this world,” he muttered to himself as he flipped down to the windowsill and then back to the tree. Within seconds he was gone, wondering what exactly was going on and deciding to think about it when he had more time.
Chapter Three
A DAY tha
t had started out as weird and progressed to bizarre had now evolved to almost terrifying, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
My dad was so jazzed about his trip that he didn’t even notice me walking around the house checking every window and door to make sure they were locked. I wanted to tell my dad not to go, but what could he do if he stayed in Athens? I saw no evidence other than my open window. Without using a ladder or wings I wasn’t sure how he could have gotten that far up. I was sure Dad had passed the guy on the stairs and hadn’t seen him, which either meant he had been invisible or I was imagining him. I honestly didn’t know which possibility was worse.
I have no idea how I got to sleep, but at some point, I did.
When my alarm clock went off for school, I woke up almost screaming, picturing someone sneaking into my room with a blue-bladed knife. I was completely exhausted and wide-awake at the same time, and it sucked. When I got downstairs and saw my dad dressed in his best jeans with suitcases by the door, I was confused, until I remembered he was really leaving.
I felt cold terror seize my heart, but I refused to let it show on my face. I wasn’t going to be a baby and start crying just because my dad was leaving and A&F models were sneaking around my house. I would figure mystery boy out by myself and not worry him.
That or I’d sleep over at Jewel’s every night until my dad came back.
“Okay there’s some money on the kitchen table,” he said when he saw me walking down the stairs. “I left the hotel number as well as Jenny’s in case you can’t get me on my cell,” he continued, explaining rapidly.
“And if things get bad I can flash a light with a giant flute symbol in it right?” I mocked, knowing if I didn’t give him a little sass he’d suspect something was up.
“This is my first time, let me be worried,” he tried to reason with me.
“We all knew this day would come, Dad. It was just a matter of time before you grew up and spread your wings.” I placed my hand on my heart. “I’ll get by, but as long as you are happy that’s all that matters.”
“You know I am going to say nothing like that when you leave for college,” he said, with his hands on his hips.
I raised an eyebrow. “I bet you squirt a tear out before I get to the curb.”
He smiled back. “I’ll have your room cleared out before you hit the city limits.”
A car’s horn honked outside.
“That’s my cab,” he said, turning to the door then back to me. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
I forced myself to remain smiling as I nodded. “Peachy with a side of keen.”
He opened his arms, and I moved in to hug him. “Call me if you need anything, okay? And if starts to rain…,” he began.
“I will melt as my kind is known to do.” I smiled as reassuringly as possible. “I’ll be fine, Dad.”
He patted my back and then grabbed his bags. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Try to have fun,” I pleaded as he walked toward the curb.
He tossed his bags in the trunk and stared back at me. “You too.” And then his face got serious. “But not too much fun.”
I gave him a fake salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
He stuck his tongue out at me as he got in the backseat of the cab.
It took everything I had not to scream for him to stop and beg him to stay. Instead, I forced myself to watch, waving the entire time, as his cab drove off.
When I turned around and looked at the house, it didn’t feel anything like the place where I’d lived my entire life. I looked down at myself and said out loud, “Well, I can’t go to school like this.” And marched back inside. I tried not to notice how overcast the sky was.
I locked both locks behind me.
“SO, WE aren’t killing him?” the black cat asked.
He stood shirtless, his skin smooth and toned in the morning light. He only had two adornments on his person, yet each one stood out like a beacon. He had one earring in his left ear, a single green gem that was concealed by his hair, and a golden chain around his neck. Dangling from the chain, between the clefts of his pecs, was an acorn that was seemingly made out of solid gold. A stray beam of sunlight hit its surface, and it seemed to glow iridescent for a moment. He pulled a shirt over his perfectly muscled chest and ran a hand through his hair. “I already said we weren’t.”
The cat paced the floor of the abandoned house, its tail jerking violently. “That was before he saw through your concealment. He has to have been trained.”
“Spike, I am telling you, he has no training whatsoever.” He pulled on his jacket. “There is something different about him.”
The cat’s form began to swell and grow, the black coat turning a pale white as more muscle formed around its frame. Within seconds, what had been a black cat became a white and tan bulldog. Spike turned and looked at him. “Different is never good.”
Hawk rolled his eyes as he grabbed his pack. “This entire world is different. It’s nothing like what the books tell us.”
“What ever is?” the dog replied, sitting down. “If we aren’t going to kill him, we should move on.” The dog’s fur began to darken to a pale gray as its snout elongated. Now a silver timber wolf looked at him. “My job is to protect you.”
He was checking the contents of the bag as he commented, “You are here to protect me in whatever course I decide to take.” His tone grew sterner. “It is best to remember that my course is my choice.”
The wolf lay down; as he cowered he shrank back into cat form. “I wasn’t challenging your authority,” the creature began.
“Of course you weren’t,” the boy interrupted. “I’ve said we are staying, and he is not to be killed. I do not wish to go over this again.”
The cat bowed slightly. “As you command, Prince Ha—”
“I am not that here!” the boy said harshly, his emotion startling the cat, which recoiled from his tone. Taking a deep breath, he forced his handsome features to relax as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Even alone we must strive to maintain our cover. If you are to refer to me by name, refer to me as Hawk. Never my title.”
“Yessir,” the cat answered meekly. The boy shot the creature a stern look, and he amended with, “Yes, Hawk?”
“Better,” he said, nodding. He opened the bag and held it out. “In you go.”
The cat took three running steps toward him as its fur began to melt into feathers. By the third step he was no larger than a kitten and had wings. He took flight as its back paws became talons, and a tiny black sparrow dived into the pack. The boy fastened it shut.
“Let me know if you need to get out. I had to throw that book away yesterday.”
“Sorry,” a voice mumbled from inside the pack.
The boy rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, “Changelings.”
I WAS jittery as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as I searched the school for him again. I looked everywhere for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I still couldn’t understand how anyone that good-looking could go unseen in such a small school. On second thought, I was talking about the same guy who managed to get into my house via the second-floor window without a ladder; anything was possible.
“Reach for the sky!” a voice said from behind me as something poked me in the back.
My reaction shocked me as much as it shocked Jewel. I spun around, slamming my backpack into her. She went flying back onto her ass, sliding a few feet from the impact. In a normal school, what I’d done would have been met with laughing and pointing. After all, nothing funnier than a big girl falling on her ass. But Athens is so far from normal you couldn’t even reach it by text if you needed to. Everyone stared at me like I had grown a second head and began spouting blood. No, scratch that, if that had happened they’d have welcomed me as a new life form and brought me love and joy. They looked at me like I was Richard Nixon. Violence of any kind was forbidden within the halls of Peter Quince High School. Jewel looked up at me with
shock in her eyes as I tried to explain what had just happened. “I didn’t, I mean, I was…,” I stammered as someone helped her up.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked, obviously trying not to cry. That fall had to have hurt.
“I just…,” I began to say and then saw the dozens of stares boring holes into my head. This was too much attention for me, the exact reason I stayed off the stage. Knowing there was no excuse other than the fact that I was losing my mind, I turned and fled the scene.
I ducked into the theater, knowing this early it would be empty.
The sound of the doors closing echoed throughout the space as I ran toward the stairs to the stage. There was a half-painted forest on the stage, Ms. Brody getting a head start for the fall production no doubt. Backstage, I pushed past the rack of costumes and knelt down with my back against the wall. I was shaking I was so upset, and I couldn’t stop. I was afraid, angry, and confused all at once, and the combination was killing me.
I had to know what was going on, and the only one who could explain was my mysterious boy. Of course I had no idea how to find him and what I’d say even if I did. Twenty-four hours ago I hated my boring life. Now, all I wanted was for it to be boring again.
I didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to be that little bitch of a person, but the tears came anyway. And as I huddled there, I heard something move out on the stage. I began to stand up as a figure walked toward me; I couldn’t tell who it was because of the damn tears. I wiped my eyes, and I saw him walk out of the shadows of the theater.
It was my boy.
“You,” he said, pointing at me. “I’ve been looking for you.” His voice was odd, some kind of an accent I couldn’t place. Half Australian, half European, it was like nothing I’d heard before. I knew I should have been scared, but for some reason, I didn’t sense anything hostile from him at all.
“You’re real,” I said more than asked, marveling that he was actually real.