“Why would Dulacs kill Pendragons? Weren’t they allies? King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake?”
“Two thousand years ago, yes. But today’s Dulacs are little better than crime lords. Their clan leader has her fingers in everything from real estate fraud to government contract fixing, and I don’t know how many politicians she’s manipulated with her magic. Riley’s father thwarted her whenever he could. He always objected when Transitioners used their talents to manipulate Normals for monetary gain, and the Pendragon name held a lot of weight with the Table.”
“The Table?” Jax repeated. “You don’t mean—”
Melinda’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “Yes, there still is a sort of Round Table—a council of the highest Transitioner lords. I don’t know if it’s actually round, and it’s probably located in an executive boardroom somewhere.”
“These Transitioner lords . . .” Jax still felt the buzz of magic in his head as he pieced it together. “They’re the same Welsh lords Mr. Crandall said cast the Eighth Day Spell? Well, not the same ones, obviously, but descendents of those guys?”
“Yes, Jax. And you probably know those ‘Welsh lords’ better as the Knights of the Round Table.”
Jax slapped a hand to his head. How could he not have seen that coming?
“Riley could claim a seat at the Table if it was safe for him to come out of hiding. But the Crandalls and I don’t think it is. Without Riley’s father appealing to their honor these past several years, too many Transitioner clans have ended up in the pockets of Ursula Dulac.” Melinda gripped Jax’s arm. “Nobody can know one of the Pendragons survived. Ursula would have him killed.”
“I won’t tell,” Jax assured her. Who would even believe me? “Maybe he should’ve changed his name more.”
“We told him that, but he was thirteen and stubborn . . . and grieving.”
Jax groaned. “I couldn’t even learn Washington’s generals for history class. Now I’ve got to keep these clans straight?”
“You want a cheat sheet?” Melinda picked a child’s crayon drawing off the floor and turned it over to the blank side. With a colored pencil, she drew a line down the center of the paper and labeled the two columns Transitioners and Kin. “A lot of people participated in the casting of the Eighth Day Spell, but there were three who took on the main roles in the ceremony: Niviane of the Lake, who conceived of the spell and brought everyone together; Arthur Pendragon, with his voice of command; and Merlin Emrys, the spell caster.” She put the first two names under Transitioners and Merlin under Kin, then added stars beside their names. “Riley is descended from Arthur, of course, and the Dulac family from Niviane.” She drew arrows connecting the ancient names to their modern counterparts.
“Okay,” Jax said, following her so far.
“Arthur’s knights were present, as well as a few other prominent leaders of the time. Their participation lent strength to the spell and bound all their descendants as Transitioners, with the ability to move between the timelines. You’ve met Deidre, right? She’s descended from Morgan LeFay. Miller is descended from Sir Owain.” Melinda added those names to the chart.
“I haven’t met Miller.”
“I know,” Melinda replied without offering any additional information.
Jax was tempted to try his talent again, but there were other things he wanted to know about more than the mysterious Miller. “What about you—and me? Who am I descended from?” He hoped it was one of the knights.
“That’s trickier,” Melinda said. “After all this time, family lines get blurred. There are intermarriages, and talents evolve and change under the right circumstances. But, there was a noblewoman named Elaine of Astolat present, and she was a sensitive, so it’s very likely my family branched off from her line.” Melinda drew a diagonal line from Elaine, like the branch of a tree, and wrote her family name, Llewelyn. “The Crandalls may have branched off from Sir Lucan, who was an artisan. And you, Jax, probably branched off from Sir Agravain, an inquisitor.”
Agravain. He sounded cool. “What about the Kin? Is there only Merlin?”
“No. The Kin are a race of people—very fair in complexion and hair, with eyes bluer than any you’ve ever seen. Merlin was the only Kin present at the spell casting, but there were other Kin families we counted on as allies. Notably, the Taliesins and the Corras. I don’t know if the Corra family still exists, but the Taliesins do and occasionally still help us.” Melinda added those names. “But our main adversaries were these powerful Kin clans, along with all their vassals and branch-off families.” Under a line labeled Adversaries she listed: Llyr, Arawen, Wylit.
“Do they still exist?” asked Jax.
“Their descendants do, but the very worst of them are detained in a prison, even inside the eighth day.”
“The descendants of these bad guys,” Jax repeated, to make sure he understood. These Kin were imprisoned in the eighth day and then imprisoned inside the eighth day—for things their ancestors had done. It didn’t sit right with him, and it reminded him of who was missing from the chart. He picked up the pencil, drew an arrow from Merlin Emrys, and added Evangeline.
“Is that her first name?” Melinda sighed. “I really didn’t need to know that.”
“Why not?”
“It makes it personal. I can’t afford to feel sorry for her. She’s dangerous.”
“How can she be?”
“As a member of the Emrys family, she could alter the Eighth Day Spell, and if she fell into the hands of the wrong Kin, they’d make her do it. Transitioners have no desire to see the eighth day broken and the Kin released, but there are some, including the Dulacs, who would love to have an Emrys heir under their control. Her timeline runs differently than ours does, so she’s probably only ten generations removed from Merlin himself. Her blood could be used for powerful magic.”
Jax swallowed uneasily. “You said people didn’t use blood in spells anymore.”
“I said honorable people didn’t. Do you understand?”
Jax nodded dumbly. He understood he wanted to complete this training and take off for Naomi’s house as soon as school ended. The eighth day was filled with horrible people who blew up entire families during engagement parties, used blood for magic, and imprisoned a teenage girl just because her ten-times-great-grandfather had been a legendary wizard.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
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18
ON FRIDAY MORNING, Jax found an interesting email in his in-box.
Hi Jaxattax! My name’s Lexi. Terrance said your new & looking to meet others. I know other kids like us & we have a group that meets sometimes & if you dont live too far away maybe you could come. Where do you live? Write me back! Lexi
Lexi’s profile picture cleverly revealed parts of a cute girl: one brown eye, one perfect nose, and a hint of a smile. The rest of her face had been cropped out to leave the viewer wanting more. Wouldn’t Jax like to meet a cute girl who knew about Grunsday and maybe lived nearby?
Heck, no.
“Crap!” Jax deleted the email with a jerk of the mouse and a stab of his finger.
“Problem?” Riley appeared in the kitchen doorway, drinking the last of the milk out of the carton.
“Nope,” Jax said, closing the email window. “Just forgot to save something.” Riley returned to the kitchen while Jax quietly panicked.
Lexi wanted to know where he lived. Terrance had asked the same thing. Jax deleted the Between Wednesday and Thursday forum from his browsing history, his heart thumping double time. He’d told them what state he lived in, but otherwise, no harm done. Right? Pennsylvania was a big place.
Just assume all Transitioners and Kin are dangerous, unless I clear ’em for you. But Riley hadn’t told him that until after Jax had already made contact with this site. He hadn’t known. It wasn’t his fault. And besides, they didn’t know where he
was.
Because they were still asking.
Riley took Jax to a sporting goods store on Saturday to buy a sheath for his dagger as Melinda had suggested. Jax looked at himself in the mirror afterwards, a knife at his side and his family crest emblazoned on his wrist. Naomi will freak when she sees me.
Feeling tough and adventurous, he Googled his famous ancestor, only to find out Sir Agravain was kind of a jerk—a selfish knight who served his own interests and betrayed his allies. Apparently, even in the time of King Arthur, people on the same side had trouble getting along.
That deflated Jax’s enthusiasm and reminded him of what the Dulacs had done to Riley’s family. And for what? So they could bribe more politicians without the interference of honorable men? The more he learned about these people, the less he liked them.
His outlook did not improve when Melinda emailed him homework. She wanted him to memorize a few meditative verses before their next lesson on Grunsday, to improve his concentration. Meditation? Really? She suggested he practice his talent for information on his textbooks—to pin down exactly what to study for finals.
But if his newfound talent gave him an advantage in school, Jax couldn’t see any evidence of it. His grades were as bad as ever. He paid just enough attention to his surroundings to get by—for instance, leaping over Giana’s outstretched foot when she tried to trip him in science on Monday. She hadn’t gotten over her hostility, and, if anything, she seemed to take pleasure in tormenting him.
To be honest, he spent most of his mental energy planning for next Grunsday. He wanted to talk to Evangeline again—partly because it annoyed the heck out of Riley and partly because her imprisonment was so unfair—but he couldn’t figure out how to do it without interference from His Highness, the Freaking Heir to King Arthur. Salvation came on Tuesday night when Riley entered the house, his phone in hand. “Hey, I gotta meet Deidre on Grunsday to see something she’s put together. Can I count on you to be here—looking out for things?”
Jax sat up alertly. “Yeah. No problem.”
Riley opened his mouth to say something else, and Jax waited for a “Leave the girl alone” command. But Riley didn’t say it. Instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and walked out.
“Can I fight off Riley’s commands?” Jax asked Melinda at the start of their next lesson on Grunsday afternoon.
She arched an eyebrow. “If you know a person’s talent, you can prepare your mind to reject their magic.”
“But A.J. couldn’t stop answering my questions even after he realized what I was doing.”
“It’s easier to block magic than to fight it once it’s gotten hold of you. Riley’s voice of command is a rare talent and a strong one, but not unstoppable. We’ll work on defense once I know you can use your own magic more precisely.” Melinda narrowed her eyes. “Although I didn’t think you’d need to defend yourself against Riley.”
“It was just a question.” Jax gave her his most innocent expression. Melinda responded with the piercing gaze of motherly suspicion before returning to the task at hand—teaching Jax to call on his talent when he wanted it and not every time he greeted someone with “What’s up?”
Jax pondered what Melinda had said while he biked home, wondering if he could reject Riley’s magic. Jax didn’t want any commands stopping him from luring Evangeline out of her house this evening. Nobody should be as alone as she was.
“That you, Jax?” Riley called from the second floor when Jax got home.
“Yeah,” Jax replied warily, taking out his honor blade and holding it in his hand. I know his talent, and I reject it. He can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.
“I need you to disengage the generators at midnight tonight,” Riley said as he came downstairs. “Can you do that?”
“Whoa.” Jax’s jaw dropped.
“What?” Riley snapped, fussing with the collar of his shirt as if uncertain how many buttons he was supposed to fasten and how many it was okay to leave undone.
Jax had to admit Riley Pendare cleaned up good. He was wearing Dockers—pressed and pleated. A button-down shirt. Boots with a shine. His hair was combed back and gelled into place.
“So this is a date,” Jax concluded.
“No.”
Jax snorted.
“I’m meeting Deidre at her college,” Riley said. “She’s been putting together old and new technology, trying to make me a motion detector that’ll work on Grunsday. She wants to show me her progress, and we’ll probably spend all evening in a lab.” He looked down at himself. “But she told me to dress nice or don’t bother coming.”
“Uh-huh,” said Jax. “So, you have the voice of command, but the girl with the pistol in her boot is in charge.”
“Shut up.” Riley stopped fussing with his collar, his eyes wandering to the window facing Mrs. Unger’s house. “If you—” He scowled and hesitated, and Jax braced himself.
“If you talk to her again,” Riley continued, “tell her you’re not part of my clan.”
That wasn’t what Jax had expected. “Why would she care?”
“Just tell her.”
Jax nodded, and Riley threw open the front door without saying anything else. Jax waited inside the house, listening for the sound of the motorcycle. Then he jumped up and scuttled outside to fetch the cooler of food he’d hidden in the cellar.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
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19
EVANGELINE AWOKE TO A FLUTTER in her stomach. It took her a moment to pin down the reason for it, and when she did, she sat straight up in bed.
Yesterday she’d had her first conversation with another person in years. She’d “hung out” with New Boy and “had a soda.”
What had she done? I cracked the dam, that’s what.
Evangeline’s life was not a happy one, but it was tolerable as long as her loneliness remained walled up behind a concrete dam.
Why hadn’t she run away when she had the chance? She knew Jax had been trying to win her trust when he told her about the lock on the pepper spray, but it had worked anyway. His honesty was so plain on his face.
Talking to Jax had cracked her dam, and she could almost feel water trickling through the leak, making it bigger and more dangerous.
She felt restless.
In the early afternoon, Jax rode off on his bicycle somewhere, and Red worked on his motorcycle in the yard. Evangeline crept to the kitchen door and put her hand on the knob. Running away from him yesterday had probably been an overreaction. After all, he’d invited her to speak with him the first day he arrived here. It had been her choice to refuse him and keep her distance thereafter. She was the one who had chosen silence, not him.
What if she walked outside now and introduced herself?
But he already knew who she was: the daughter of a traitor who’d sought to break the Eighth Day Spell. Evangeline’s father had consorted and plotted with terrible Kin clans. Worse, he’d worked on a plan to retrieve the most evil Kin of all from the fortress in Wales where they were confined. He’d violated everything their famous ancestor Merlin had believed in and sacrificed for.
Evangeline had been hidden in this house so her father’s accomplices couldn’t find her and take up his cause. Nobody cared what her own opinion on the matter was.
Outside, she heard the clatter of something metal being thrown into a toolbox. Her hand tightened on the doorknob. There was no need for introductions, but she could ask him what she most wanted to know. How much longer must I stay here?
But she already knew the answer to that, too. She would be required to stay here until his side needed her for something. Or until the Taliesins thought she was old enough to be married to someone they picked for her, like she was the daughter of a nobleman in medieval times. A lot of the Kin behaved like they were still in the Dark Ages instead of the twenty-first century. It didn’t make Evang
eline anxious to rejoin them.
She let go of the door. There was no point talking to the Pendragon boy. He was her prison guard. There was nothing good he could tell her and no common ground they shared.
She stayed away from the windows and kept herself busy in the house, dusting and then alphabetizing the jars in the spice cabinet—because there was no fun in being a ghost if she didn’t do inexplicable things. She tried to read the most recent batch of library books, but living through the lives of Normal girls in books didn’t satisfy her. Another crack in the dam, she thought. Instead she pored over newspapers and magazines and fantasized, not for the first time, about slipping out of this house and losing herself in the world.
In the early evening, she heard the motorcycle leave, and it wasn’t long afterward that she smelled smoke.
She jumped up and ran for the kitchen. Fire was one of her greatest fears—as it was for all her people. The Kin were too easily eliminated by fires set on days they weren’t present. Nothing was wrong in her kitchen, but Evangeline’s eyes were immediately drawn to the window.
Smoke poured out of the house next door.
She barely had time to gasp before she saw Jax pitch some flaming object out his kitchen window with tongs. He didn’t look scared, just annoyed, and he waved the smoke out the open window with a towel. The house wasn’t on fire; Jax had just burned his dinner.
That’s when Evangeline spotted everything set up on the lawn between their houses. A folding table. Two lawn chairs. Two place settings with plates, napkins, forks and knives. Candles. Jax was planning a lawn party, and Evangeline felt pretty sure she knew who his guest was supposed to be.
She threw both hands over her face. That silly boy. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
But Jax doesn’t know what my father did. He doesn’t despise me.
When she peeked through her fingers, she spotted the other object on the lawn, and something overcame her. Curiosity. Or maybe the leaking of water through the crack of a dam. She was out the kitchen door and walking across the property before she could help herself.
The Eighth Day Page 9