Ellie looked down at the almost-gone polish. “This junky polish is just awful. Honestly, Jalen. Why did you let me go out in public wearing this?”
I blinked. Ellie had squealed when she saw that polish in the drugstore two days ago. She had been thrilled, because it was “the exact color of june bugs.”
After a too-long moment of silence (because normally, Ellie was a silence killer), she asked in a squeaky voice, “Feeling better, Jalen?” She lifted one of Mr. Bingle’s paws in a silly mock wave.
“Ellie, you’re allergic to cats.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
“Hmm. I always thought that was a lie.” I bit my lip, like that could help me unsay those words. Sure, I’d suspected Ellie’s “cat allergies” were just a deep dislike of cats, but I’d never say that. Until…now? Ellie looked both hurt and confused.
I started to feel dizzy. I slumped onto the couch next to Ellie, sank into the cozy cushions. “You didn’t black out? Just now?” I felt around on my head for a tender place, a bump or a bruise. Nothing. I remembered collapsing to the floor of the attic, my head leading the way.
Brennan paced the vintage living room rug. He looked at me with what appeared to be real concern. But you didn’t just forget a rivalry like ours, not over something silly like being locked in an attic. No—he was up to something. I suspected they both were, acting like this. But what?
“I’m worried about you, Jalen,” he said. “You don’t look so hot, no offense. Do you want me to call your mom?”
My mom? No offense? “No,” I whispered. “She’s with my Nina.”
Just the mention of my Nina caused Brennan’s forehead to wrinkle in pity. Untouched by tragedy, he was. And now, suddenly now, he cared? What was going on here? It felt like a joke, and I didn’t like it one bit.
I steeled myself for what I knew would come next: the sting of tears in my eyes, the tingling of the tip of my nose, the tightening of my throat—all my usual reactions when Brennan made fun of me. But none of that happened.
I cracked my knuckles. Ellie cringed next to me. I cracked my knuckles? And then, what I wasn’t doing became just as obvious as what I was doing. I wasn’t twisting my streaked hair into knots. I snagged a lock and drew it across my face.
“What in the—” I flipped around and perched on my knees on the couch. I shook my head at my reflection in the dark window.
It was gone! The shock lock—missing! Filled in, somehow, with black hair, just like the rest.
It was like nothing had ever hurt me. As if my past had been glossy smooth. I had nothing to show for my pain.
Did I still have the pain?
I swallowed to try and stop the dizzy spins, and then I realized—the buzzing sound was our antique doorbell, not my head. BZZZZZT! BZZZ-BZZZ-BZZZZT!
I crawled off the couch, stumbling toward the door. Ellie grabbed my wrist. “Jalen, don’t answer that! Your mom’s not home!” Her eyes were wide with fear.
“What?” I shook my head to dislodge her words from my ears. Ellie afraid? This little act was really starting to bug me. I yanked my wrist free. “Really, who could it be?”
“Who could what be?” said Brennan.
Ellie and I both cocked our heads at him. “The door,” I said. “You know, the one with the ringing doorbell?” Whoa. That came out way more sarcastic than I’d meant it to. I shook it off and crossed the entryway.
Through the cut glass front door, I could see someone on the front stoop. As I swung the door open, I got a better view: a woman, maybe teens or early twenties, with leaves in her hair. Leaves! And she was wearing—was I seeing this right?—a toga. A sheet, wrapped and draped around her body, belted with a shiny gold rope.
Hmmph, New Orleans, I thought. But it wasn’t the season for Mardi Gras costumes. And something about this woman didn’t click. She wasn’t some kind of caricature dreamed up by the krewes who organized the parades.
No. She didn’t appear to be playing pretend.
Her eyes—what was it? Her eyes were black pupils, no color. Empty, infinite, midnight eyes.
“See?” Brennan said over my shoulder. “No one’s there. I really think we oughta call your mom, Jalen.”
Ellie pushed her brother’s arm. “Don’t be rude!” she whispered sharply.
“What?” Brennan threw his arms out, palms up.
But I was still too disoriented after staring into those empty eyes to snap at Brennan. “Sorry,” I said to the lady in the toga. “We don’t have any beads for you to throw in your parade.” I started to ease the door shut. She placed her foot in the crack of the door.
“Jalen Jones,” she said. Her voice crackled like a snake’s rattle.
My stomach clenched into a fist. “How do you know my name?” I pushed the door harder, but her foot was still lodged in the crack. And it didn’t appear that she’d move it anytime soon. My eyes widened. I turned to Ellie and Brennan in a silent plea of help.
Brennan placed a hand on my shoulder. “Jalen, close the door and come back inside. I’m really getting worried about—”
“I can’t!” I yelled at him. “Her foot is in the door, Brennan!” I shoved the door harder, harder, but it wouldn’t budge.
Brennan’s forehead wrinkled. “Whose foot?”
“Hers!” Ellie pointed at the sandal wedged in the door. She cupped her hands around her mouth and, nearing hysterics, started yelling, “Go away! I’m calling the police! I know karate!” (She doesn’t.) I kept pushing the door, smashing the foot, but the woman never uttered a word.
“Jalen,” the woman repeated again, sharper this time. Yet she sounded calm, very much unlike the scene on this side of the door. “You called me.”
“What?” My voice was high. I fought to keep it steady. “What do you mean, called? I haven’t called anyone!”
“Called who, Jalen?” Brennan asked, his head whipping back and forth from me to Ellie. “Ellie, what’s going on? Did you guys call me over here to play a trick on me? Because haha, enough’s enough.”
Two sets of fingers slithered around the door, gripped it, and pushed. Even though I threw my whole weight against it, the woman flung open the door with ease.
Brennan’s eyes widened, but I could see he focused beyond the lady in the toga, into the dark night. He didn’t see her. “Whoa,” he muttered.
The stranger shoved into my home, slammed the door, and blocked the exit. She reached over her shoulder and flicked the dead bolt with a twist of her fingers. She never once removed her blank-black eyes from us.
“What is your business with Ophiuchus?” she growled.
My mouth went dry. Ophiuchus. She knew something.
I tried to signal to Ellie and Brennan to run for the back door. The lady stepped toward me, and I couldn’t help but take a step back. She fumbled around inside the pouch strapped across her chest. My mind assumed the worst: She was grabbing a gun! A knife! A something!
I snatched a pottery bowl holding keys and sunglasses off the entry table and smashed it over her head. I looked down at the fragment still in my hand in amazement. How about me! My heart pounded in my throat at this newfound fire.
The lady shook her glossy black hair, flinging pottery shards. As she did, she pulled a metal nail file from her pouch. She pointed it at me, touching me lightly between the eyes with the tip. I tasted bile.
“You? You’re Jalen? You’re a child.” She seemed to pause, then she flipped the file between her fingers like a drumstick and began filing her nails, zip zip zip. Bone-chillingly fast, the file sawed.
She was filing her nails?
“Who are you?” My pointed voice surprised me.
“Jalen?” Brennan asked. He stepped toward me, too close to the woman. Ellie jumped forward and yanked him back.
The lady flitted her black eyes over me, over my friends. “Why did you summon us? What is your business with Ophiuchus?”
The knots in my muscles jerked tighter. “I don’t know what you mean. How do you know
my name?” I asked. I tried to be strong, but my voice wavered.
“Oh, look at that. She’s scared!” The lady leaned close to my face, too close. With her sharpened pinkie fingernail, she stroked a line from the outer corner of my eye to my jawbone, the path a tear would take.
“Already, Jalen, with the fear?” she whispered. “I’m afraid you’re not going to last very long at all.”
She stood tall and snapped the nail file into the palm of her hand. I jumped.
“You think you can just unlock Ophiuchus and not unleash the fury of the heavens?” she demanded.
Words were trapped in my throat. I grew hot. “I—”
“You think it’ll be so easy to gain that kind of power, Jalen?”
“I—”
“You think the other twelve are just going to let you saunter in and pluck Ophiuchus’s stone from the heavens, Jalen?”
I blinked. “Other twelve?”
The woman sneered at me. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Gemini,” she said, extending her hand genteelly, like I might kiss it. Her tone changed so abruptly, it was like talking to two people.
“Like the zodiac sign?” Ellie squeaked.
Brennan huffed. “Zodiac? Is that what this is all about?” He stomped away from us, back into the living room, and picked up The Keypers of the Zodiack off the couch. He shivered.
Brennan’s eyes were lowered, looking at the book as he returned. “You two were over here reading this, and you got all spooked out, and so you decided to—” He raised his eyes.
“Holy—what is that?” Brennan scrambled backward, away from the person calling herself Gemini, and tripped over the rug. He landed with a thud on his tailbone, the palm of his hand crunching on a shard of pottery. A pool of blood quickly spilled beneath it. Now he saw her?
Gemini eyed him coolly. “Aren’t you a simple one?” she cooed at him, smoothing her sleek black hair. “It’s a good thing you’re not the one seeking Ophiuchus. You’d be pulp.” But she offered her hand, helping him stand. She pulled a cloth from her pouch for his cut. This woman was manic.
Her black gaze turned steely again and she whipped it toward me, sending a chill to my fingertips. “Yes. Well. Jalen. If you’re hunting Ophiuchus, you should be on your way. Consider this your warning.”
She leaned in toward me again, black eyes narrowed. “And I won’t be so polite the next time our paths cross. No offense. You understand it’s my duty to do whatever it takes to stop you. Now, you really should get going.”
My head was spinning, trying to compute all of this. “Going?”
Gemini sighed. “On your search? Though I must say, looking at you with your mouth hanging open like that, I’m not certain you’re up for it. You’ll be easy meat to those Keepers.” She grabbed my chin and shook it. My brain rattled.
I snapped my head back to escape her grasp. “Meat? I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, Jalen. It’s time for the games to begin. Just remember that those who seek great power pay a great price.”
Tears swam in my eyes, but somehow I managed to choke down a sob. “This is some kind of mistake,” my voice said. “I don’t understand. I don’t want power.”
Gemini blinked, her brow furrowed. Her black hair was shiny sleek, her red lips full. Movie-star gorgeous. She leaned close to me, looking deep into my eyes, like she was reading my soul.
“You’re not like the other Challengers,” she whispered. “You really don’t know.” Then, almost panicked, she added, “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed on the universe, do you?”
My head twitched no.
“You don’t seek Ophiuchus’s power?”
No again.
Her shoulders fell. She paused before speaking. “I’ll need to go with you. You can’t do this alone.” Chill bumps raced over my skin. I wasn’t going anywhere with this roller-coaster ride.
“That book. Your book. The Keypers of the Zodiack?” Gemini asked. I nodded at Brennan, one bloody hand clenched around the scrap of cloth, his other hand still clutching the book. It struck me: After he held the book, he could see her, could hear her. The book somehow unlocked our sight of this maniac. The back of my neck prickled.
“How much of it did you read?” Gemini demanded.
Do I lie? Pretend I know everything about her? It didn’t seem like a good idea. Truth seemed smarter. “Not a lot.”
Gemini’s face seemed to soften a moment, but she quickly locked that away behind a scowl. She shook her head and straightened her toga with sharp tugs.
“Jalen.” Gemini’s voice was level. “You have unlocked Ophiuchus, the thirteenth sign of the zodiac. These personality changes you and your friends have experienced?” She lifted a single eyebrow, allowing her words to sink in.
Personality changes? Ellie and Brennan had been acting weird, yes. And I certainly felt different. To put it mildly. But personality changes?
“They’re just the start of your problems,” Gemini said. “But know this: If you don’t come with me, all of the changes, across the globe, will become permanent.”
I thought about what this person, Gemini, said for a moment: across the globe.
“You’re saying…everyone on earth has changed.”
Gemini nodded. “All humans possess a new horoscope sign now that Ophiuchus has been awoken.” She flipped the nail file in her fingers. I bristled, preparing to feel the sharp point between my eyes again, boring into my brain. But she tucked it away, inside her pouch, rather than sawing it across my flesh. “And with that, everyone’s personality has shifted.”
No, I misunderstood. There’s no way everyone on earth had a personality switch.
Gemini crossed to the dark window, like she was searching for something. She didn’t have a reflection in the glass. I shivered. “You must find Ophiuchus and cast her back into the heavens to right this wrong, Jalen.”
“Find Ophiuchus,” I said. “To fix everyone’s personalities.” This wasn’t happening. This woman—this thing that required the touch of a book to even be seen?—was really starting to scare me. “Right.”
Gemini turned away from the window and crossed to me. Looking into her stare was like looking into a black hole and was just as much of a trap.
“Ophiuchus is with the one who needs healing.”
Had she whispered that, or had I imagined it? I looked over Gemini’s shoulder at once-brash Brennan now biting his bottom lip, at Ellie gnawing her fingernails. It appeared no one heard that but me. If I heard it at all.
Her black eyes flashed, a spark of green shooting through them like a comet. My mind sprang to the snakes on the lock, the pin. My hand instinctively covered Nina’s pin over my heart.
Nina. If what this woman was saying was true…No. It couldn’t be. What was she saying? That my mom, my Nina—now had different personalities? I didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.
“I want to call my mother,” I said. I waggled my fingers at Ellie. “Let me see your cell phone.”
Ellie fished the cell phone from her jeans pocket and passed it to me. Mom usually answered on the first ring. But this time it rang and rang and rang before I got sent to voice mail. Twice. Finally, on the third try, my mother answered.
“Jalen!” she shrieked.
My stomach leaped into my throat. “Mom?”
“Jalen!” she choked out. “Oh, Jalen, honey. It’s bad. Bad!” I could barely understand her between her gulping sobs. My mom never cried. Never, not even when my dad had disappeared.
I realized I was blinking back tears. “Nina? Is she okay?” I heard Nina moaning, groaning in the background. “Is that her?” I asked too loudly. “Is she okay?”
Each cry of my mom’s ratcheted up my fear. My mother’s tears and my Nina’s moans came through the phone in a chorus of pain.
“Mrs. Jones,” said a voice in the background. It was muffled, but I could hear snatches of the conversation around my mother’s sobs. “Calm down…not helping matters…be stron
g for your mother.” It must’ve been the nurse.
“My mother-in-law,” my mom wailed to the voice. I’d never heard her correct that before. “You-you can’t make that moaning stop?”
“No, ma’am,” the nurse in the background said. “Can’t explain it…mother-in-law…given up all her fight. You and your family…think about saying good-bye.”
“Mom!” I shouted, but she didn’t hear me over the sound of her own crying. “Mom, what do they mean, say good-bye? Mom?”
“Jalen! I can’t do this anymore. I’m—I’m leaving.”
The phone clicked dead.
Saying good-bye. To Nina? Rather, to a woman who didn’t sound like my Nina. Not at all.
I could hardly breathe. I dropped Ellie’s cell phone.
My Nina was brave, bold, and beautiful, even battling breast cancer. But now—now, it seemed, she was in so much pain. Had she been in pain when I talked to her earlier? My heart sobbed at the thought of it.
Nina was the one at home when I got off the school bus because my mom had to work long hours. She thought everything was better with a plate of warm chocolate-chip cookies. And she said, “thank heavens!” all the time in this way that made you think she had some personal angel up there, hammering it all out for her.
Nina was my dad’s mom, but she treated my mom like her own blood. My mom and I hadn’t had a normal conversation without Nina in the room in four years. After my dad disappeared, my mom hardened, like she was clanking around in a suit of armor. In fact, my mom didn’t say he “disappeared.” She never said otherwise, but I suspected Mom thought Daddy left us when things got tough.
But Nina believed differently. Nina had tethered Mom and me to earth after Daddy’s accident, rather than allowing us to drift up and away.
And now Mom was leaving? Leaving the hospital? That woman wasn’t my mom. My throat squeezed shut.
I’d thought having a too-tough mom was such a horrible thing. But a quitter mom? No. She was the only parent I had left. She can’t just check out. Not now. Not on what might be Nina’s last night on earth!
“I have to go to the hospital,” I whispered. I cleared my throat. “I have to be with Nina. She can’t die—I mean, she can’t be alone.”
The 13th Sign Page 3