by John Goode
Truheart flared as it sliced through the jacket, encountering no resistance. Carried by his momentum, Hawk stumbled and smacked face first to the stage floor. The coat was torn from where the heart would be all the way down to the tails, but encountering Truheart hadn’t slowed the manifestation in the least. “What is this?” he exclaimed, getting to his feet.
“Hawk!” Kane called in warning as another of the floating uniforms slashed down swiftly behind him. He brought the sword up instinctively, barely parrying the blow, as he rolled away from it. The first uniform renewed its assault, focusing on the human while the second and third pressed their attack on Hawk. “Run!” he cried out as the two weapons continued to attack. It challenged every particle of training he had, but he fell back to a defensive stance. Better to maneuver the attackers so that they would stumble into and over each other, giving him an edge. And he wanted to do that. But he couldn’t. Even more deeply ingrained was his duty to the innocent, and danger threatened. Blazing mad, but kept from stupidity by training, Hawk placed himself between the boy and the two bodiless uniforms that beset him.
Every swipe he made at the uniforms did nothing save tear the fabric. The weapons they wielded, on the other hand, were very real and very unstoppable.
He rolled away from them and back to his feet, blocking as well as he could, but was quickly running out of stage.
“Um.” Kane’s voice came from the other side of the stage. “Some help?” Hawk snapped his head around and caught a glimpse of Kane valiantly using some scraps of wood, painted brown and green, as a shield, avoiding the single enemy bent on his destruction. Hawk followed the line of Kane’s stare. “By the gods!” he snapped to himself.
Another trio of uniforms had floated through the air from the other wall of the stage. The colors and medals meant nothing to him. What did mean something was the fact that he and Kane were being herded in different directions off the stage. And that was not going to happen. Abruptly, Hawk made his move.
Diving between the gap separating the coat and pants, he rolled up between Kane and the first uniform, keeping the boy behind him.
“Why are the costumes attacking us?” Kane panted, audible fear in his voice.
Hawk paused and examined them in earnest. “Costumes?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Those are for the fall play,” Kane said, pointing at the first three. “And those are from A Few Good Men,” he said, pointing at the latter trio.
Hawk had no idea what the names meant, but Kane’s familiarity with them proved they were of corporeal construction, not spectral agents sent by the Dark. They were just enchantments. Hawk’s battle readiness turned to rage as he realized someone was having fun at his expense.
“Spike!” he called out, his voice echoing across the theater.
The cat’s head poked around the satchel, its eyes blinking slowly as if it was waking up.
“Kill!” he commanded at the same time that the creature realized they were under attack.
The Guardian reacted instantly, running at the first set of clothes as fast as he could. With each step, it grew larger, from a house cat to a panther in seconds. Its massive paws clawed through the first set effortlessly, leaving a floating set of rags instead. Undaunted, the floating weapon turned and swung at Spike.
“The weapons are enchanted! Spike, destroy them!” Hawk shouted, one hand pushing Kane back toward the wings, the other slipping his blade into his belt.
The cat’s head nodded as he began to change again.
The fur melted into metallic scales; the tail fleshed out, becoming serpentine and spiked. Hawk felt Kane stop in midstep, shocked as Spike turned into a medium-sized dragonkin.
“What is…,” he began to protest.
Hawk spun around and used both hands to push Kane off the stage toward the side door. “Ask later, run now!”
The uniforms had focused their attention on Spike and had formed a circle, tightening the ring around the Changeling, weapons at the ready.
Spike took half a breath as he watched his master push the boy out of the theater. Before inhaling fully he turned a quiet, dark gaze back at the uniforms.
From inside the theater came a loud roar and an odd rushing sound, followed by a clap of sound that made the doors shake. Hawk had thrown his weight against the doors, holding them shut. Seconds later, alarms began crying out all over school, and water began to spray from the ceiling’s sprinklers.
“What just happened?” Kane shouted, scrambling to his feet right behind Hawk and grabbing the front of Hawk’s shirt.
Kane looked as if he was ready to hit him. As much of a relief as that might have been, however, he tossed the idea away when he heard the sound of running footsteps and startled voices. People began to converge on their location.
“Excrement.” Which puzzled Hawk before he realized the boy still wore the bauble.
“Shit,” Hawk said, smiling proudly at him.
Kane gave him a disbelieving look and rolled his eyes. “Come on!”
He allowed himself to be pulled away as people opened the auditorium doors to find the entire stage on fire. There were cries from the adults as the other children began to shuffle out of their classrooms and out of the building.
“Where are we going?” Hawk asked, allowing Kane to lead the way.
“Outside!” he answered angrily.
“You’re upset,” he stated, fairly happy that he’d been able to identify the human’s emotion after only a word.
Kane spun around and faced him. “Your cat-lizard thing just burned down the theater. Why would that upset me?”
Hawk considered the question quickly before carefully hazarding, “Because you wanted to destroy the enchanted garments yourself?” Kane said nothing as he turned around and exited the building.
No one noticed the small bird shoot down into the hallway, following behind them.
Half of the school wandered around outside trying to dry themselves off as smoke billowed out of the theater doors. The other half divided its time either staring and talking or staring and not talking and watching the building burn. Kane dragged Hawk away from the crowd to a spot near a small grove of trees. After making sure they were alone he asked, “Why did you burn down the theater?” His tone wasn’t as angry, but it was obvious he was upset.
If Hawk had any illusions that the boy might know something of The Arts, his question dispelled them. Hawk paused as he mulled the question. “Because the uniforms would have come at us endlessly as long as their weapons remained intact. Magical fire is the quickest way to destroy weapons of that nature.”
“You burned the theater down!”
Hawk narrowed his eyes. “You said that already.” He reached for the bauble. “Is it broken?”
Kane slapped his hand as he exclaimed, “You can’t just go burning places to the ground!”
Hawk rubbed his hand. “Don’t exaggerate, the structure is still standing!” As he finished, part of the roof crashed in; the crowd screamed in surprise. “Well, it is for now.”
Kane rolled his eyes and looked away from him for a moment.
“It wasn’t a particularly good theater, you know,” he offered, trying to soften the pain.
“Yes, it was!” Kane exploded, turning back to him. “It was a perfectly serviceable theater, and it was ours!” And then in a whispered hiss, “And you burned it down!”
Hawk paused and then corrected him. “Actually, I ordered it to be burnt down. I didn’t actually take flame to it.” When he saw the anger in Kane’s face he added, “Well, there is a difference.”
“So you had your… thing burn it down! It’s still a pile of ashes!”
“Guardian,” Hawk amended.
Kane paused before asking, “That cat thing is your Guardian?”
“I’m a Changeling,” a voice called from above them. “Not a cat thing.” Kane peered up and spotted the black cat sitting on a low branch, the satchel in its claws. It dropped the bag down to Hawk and t
old him, “They’re gone.”
Hawk nodded, pulled Truheart off his belt, and put it back inside. “Excellent.”
“The cat talks?” Kane asked, obviously at the edge of his tolerance.
“I speak Faerth,” the cat answered and then looked at Hawk. “How can he understand me?”
Hawk held the bag open and motioned for the Changeling to jump into it.
Spike sighed and answered his own question as he readied himself for the drop. “Because he’s wearing the bauble. Of course he is because, when we were told to stay as invisible as possible, that meant unless you fancy a boy. In that case, do whatever you damn well please.”
With perfect form it jumped off the branch and toward the bag.
Hawk moved the bag to the left. The cat hit the ground with a humiliating thud. Spike looked at him, slightly dazed as Hawk said, “I’m sorry. All that sarcasm affected my aim. Care to try again?”
This time Spike stayed silent as he leapt into the bag.
Hawk closed and fastened it shut and looked up to find Kane just staring at him in what could only be befuddlement. “Who are you?” the human finally asked.
“I answered that already,” he said, reaching up and snatching back the bauble from Kane’s ear and catching the jewel with his other hand. “There is a girl approaching us,” Hawk said, slipping the bauble into his earlobe.
“What?” Kane asked, not understanding anything that was happening around him.
“Girl,” Hawk whispered as he spun Kane around to face her.
Jewel looked at him, her concern was thinly veiled by annoyance. “Are you okay?”
Kane nodded, still slightly in shock. “Yeah, we’re fine,” he answered.
“We?” she asked. Whatever anger she still felt about Kane pushing her dispelled itself under a wave of concern.
Kane nodded and looked behind him. “Yeah, me and—of course you’re gone.” The last part said to himself.
“You’re acting weird,” she said as Kane scanned as far as he could see, trying to spot Hawk.
But he had vanished. Again.
Chapter Six
IF HE had been there, I would have blown up at him.
I could totally tell that Jewel had still been mad at me when she walked up, but that didn’t last since I sounded like a complete crazy person talking about someone who wasn’t there. Jewel knew the proper protocol when dealing with crazy people, of course. When I told her that the guy she was sure didn’t exist had just been here next to me and was now gone, she nodded and, very calmly, asked me if I wanted to sit down.
I hated Hawk even more.
In silence we all watched as the theater burned down. Ms. Brody cried on the lawn like her firstborn had been trapped inside the auditorium. I pinched the bridge of my nose and managed not to say anything. Since we were a bunch of freaks, a few kids cried also. Some joined hands and sang the spirit of the theater to the hereafter.
Hand to God? I felt like puking. Bad enough they were going to get weepy over a building, but to chant its soul to theater heaven was too much.
“I’m leaving,” I announced, getting to my feet. I had always disliked Athens, but this, this was going too far into the weeds of weird. This had been a fire, a real fire, where someone could have been hurt, and we were chanting?
“You can’t,” Jewel said, rising with me. “We’re supposed to stay here.”
I went to grab my backpack and realized it wasn’t with me. I slapped my forehead and groaned. “Oh dammit; it was in there.”
Jewel did a double take as she realized what I had just said. “You were in the theater?”
I froze, stuck between the instant impulse to just lie to her and the stronger impulse to tell her everything because, God knew, I needed someone to talk to.
“Kane,” Jewel whispered to me. “Did you burn the theater down?”
The question sounded a lot to me like an accusation, and I yanked away from her. “Yes, Jewel. I was pretty sure if someone dropped pig’s blood on me nothing would happen, so I was in there practicing how to light things on fire like every good Stephen King character should.”
I could see my words had cut her as deeply as hers had cut me when she glared back at me. This was the first actual fight we’d ever had, and neither one of us knew how to deal with it. She knew something was up, and I wasn’t talking. I always talked, talking made our friendship work. I had lashed out at her with the cynical words I normally reserved for others, and she grew cold in reaction. “Well, for all I know, your imaginary boyfriend lit it on fire.”
“No, it was his magic cat thing,” I blurted out and rushed past her.
What was left of the rational part of my brain knew that I wasn’t really mad at Jewel. I was mad that, twenty-four hours earlier, my life made sense. True, completely shitty sense, but sense nonetheless. And then I’d seen him. Ever since he’d passed me in the hall, my life had taken a left turn into the woods. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to find my way out again, and that pissed me off even more.
Strange hot guys, baubles that were lie detectors on the side, magic uniforms, and a talking cat-dragon thing that could burn down a building; I’d reached the limit of things I couldn’t understand but was forced to accept for one day, so I just left. Jewel didn’t say anything as I marched off the lawn.
The school was in such a panic it was just a matter of walking off campus as more firemen rushed toward the blaze. The winds were kicking up, and what had started as small fire was threatening to take down more than just the auditorium. I didn’t know if Hawk or Jewel was following me, and I didn’t care. Elvis has left the building, and I didn’t know if he was coming back or not.
Every person in town walked or biked or drove past me, heading toward the school; the black smoke rising into the air was visible for miles. And it was probably the most exciting thing that had happened in Athens, Iowa, for years.
The farther I retreated from school, the quieter the world became. The sidewalk was covered with leaves as the winds tore down my street from behind. I hurried up to my house to escape the chill as fast as I could.
I wasn’t too surprised to see my front door open before I could pull out my keys to unlock it. “Your window lock is sorely deficient.”
I stalked past Hawk, who held the door open, and saw what I assumed was his cat thing sitting on my couch. At least I hoped what I saw was his cat thing since there was a black furry monkey calmly holding our TV remote sitting there.
“My window is two stories up with no way to get close to it, so we weren’t really expecting anyone to jimmy the lock.” I grabbed the remote out of the creature’s hand and turned the TV off. It looked up and hissed at me in anger and, in a fit of mental exhaustion, I hissed back at it.
I could swear the thing looked like it was going to rip out my throat, then I heard Hawk behind me telling the creature, “Spike, go away.”
Spike said something back, making the same sound I’d assume a dog would make if it tried to speak French. Whatever it said, it wasn’t good, because Hawk’s face grew stern as he barked, “Spike. Out. Now!”
The monkey thing slinked off the couch, morphing back to the cat as it bounded up the stairs. “That thing doesn’t like me,” I said, when I was pretty sure it was out of earshot.
“No, he doesn’t,” Hawk said, sitting in my father’s chair with an exhausted sigh.
That took me aback for a moment. “Wait, why doesn’t he like me? What did I do?”
He smiled up at me. “You didn’t do anything, it is most likely because of me.”
I brushed off the couch, making sure I didn’t sit in any monkey-cat poo. “I’m confused.”
Hawk nodded as I waited for him to add something. After a few seconds I kicked the chair. “So explain!”
He sighed as he moved his legs out of the way in case the next time I kicked it was at him instead of the chair. “That would take some time.”
“I have time,” I said, not breaking eye contact.
“Do you have sustenance?” he asked, apparently completely un-phased by my anger.
“Do I have… you mean food?”
“And drink,” he added. “Combat magic leaves me drained.”
Magic? I’d love to call him crazy, but his talking cat-lizard-monkey thing didn’t like me and it was most likely up in my room pissing on my stuff.
“Do you eat meat?” I asked, getting up and crossing to the kitchen.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” he asked, turning around in the chair.
“It’s a weird town, not everyone eats the same thing,” I said, opening the fridge and grabbing the leftovers from Dad’s and my supper.
I saw him pulling off his boots and tried not to stare because I suddenly wanted to see his bare feet. What the hell was wrong with me? “They eat food, correct?” he called to me.
I tossed a little bit of everything on a plate and began to nuke it. “Well, vegetarians don’t eat red meat. Vegans eat less than that. There are a couple of people that only eat natural things, meaning no processed sugar or preservatives or….” I looked over, and he was standing next to me. His physical presence was intimidating but not threatening. The light from the living room gleamed off his hair in a way that made it almost glow for a moment. He was so damn pretty it hurt.
“You know I understand maybe every third word, correct?” he asked with that damn infuriating grin.
I felt myself literally swoon, I was standing so near him. I mean, an actual swoon where I put a hand on one of the kitchen chairs so I didn’t topple forward into him. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt to tease me about my reaction, when something popped in the microwave.
Fascinated, he knelt down and peered in the window.
“It is a type of oven?” he asked as he tapped the glass with his finger. I winced at how close he was to it and pulled him back. “Yeah, microwaves. Good for cooking, bad for staring at.”
He allowed me to move him, but it was obvious from the set of his shoulders that if he didn’t want to budge, I’d need a bulldozer to get him in motion. “It’s dangerous?”