The House of Grey- Volume 3

by Earl, Collin

  He looked back in their direction.

  “Hey, where’d they go?”

  Casey and Indigo followed Artorius’ lead and began to search for Monson and Cyann. It was in vain; they were both gone.

  “No way!” said Indigo in shock, “no one can move that quietly.”

  Artorius shook his head in a resigned sort of way. “You should never say ‘never’ when Grey is involved.”

  Casey spoke, chuckling as he did.

  “You know, I think Grey might have been a ninja in a previous life.”

  Artorius cracked his neck, still disturbed. “I can’t believe they left!”

  “Come on, they couldn’t have gotten far.” Casey sounded wild, excited. “Let’s go get some answers.”

  Indigo pointed towards the forest path. “My sister probably went this way. I’m going to go after her.”

  Artorius’ words came through gritted teeth. “Grey probably went back the way we came.”

  Indigo glanced at Casey “We split up here?’

  “It would appear that way.”

  Indigo shot each of them a wink. “Don’t get lost, losers.”

  Casey acknowledged her with slight wave of the hand, while Artorius looked longingly at Indigo “We’ll check you later, little Harrison.”

  They spilt and proceeded, going their separate ways

  ***

  Monson had no idea what time it was when his inner voice tried to rouse him.

  You have to get up.

  He groaned at the prospect, feeling haggard as jagged rocks pressed painfully against him. He didn’t want to move.

  You have to get up, now!

  “Fine,” said Monson aloud. He allowed himself a moment more before obeying. He slowly stood from behind the knotted clump of trees where he had been hiding. He shook himself free of the branches, wiping the dirt and debris from his clothes. Once he was liberated, the voice attempted to move him again.

  Now, go back to your room.

  Monson remained standing, as still and unmoving as the trees around him.

  He wanted to move.

  He wanted to flee.

  He just…couldn’t.

  Icy pinpricks of chilled water struck his skin as rain poured down fast and furious.

  Perfect.

  He stood motionless in the freezing cold rain, feeling it suck the warmth from his body. He looked at his hand as the lingering sensation of her touch started to fade away. Cyann’s words came to him.

  “So vibrant and happy ….”

  His inner voice returned.

  Ask the question.

  Monson shook his head.

  You have to ask the question.

  Monson answered himself, shouting, “No!”

  You’re a liar, Monson Grey.

  “I know….”

  But the only one who fell for it was you.

  “I know.”

  You are a liar.

  “I KNOW!” A scream, scratchy and cracked, left him hoarse.

  Monson punched the tree closest to him, speaking softly. “You’re right, Cyann.”

  He punched again.

  “You were right about everything.”

  He punched the tree a third time.

  “How?”

  He punched it a fourth time.

  “How could you know that?”

  A fifth time.

  “How could you know any of that?”

  A sixth time.

  A seventh time.

  An eighth time.

  Monson felt warm liquid trickle from his hands.

  “Stupid girl, I don’t know how else to be. Think of what you’re asking try to to step into somebody else’s-my nightmare and please….”

  His face turned skyward.

  “Please...try not to see so clearly.”

  Monson sunk to his knees as freezing cold water mixed with the warmth of his blood and tears.

  ***

  Monson heard Casey’s voice.

  “Grey, you are so dead.”

  Casey and Artorius burst through Monson’s bedroom door. Monson looked up from his book, adjusting his position on the window seat, and glanced at the wall clock.

  7:30, huh? thought Monson. Took you guys longer than I thought it would. Where did you think I went?

  “What did I do?” Monson skimmed the faces of his two friends. “You two look upset-is something wrong?”

  Casey and Artorius tripped over their words. They glanced at each other and laughed.

  “Go ahead, Arthur.”

  Artorius gave Casey a spiteful look, but quickly turned his attention to Monson.

  “Never mind the fact that you escaped without saying anything and disappeared again. We’ll get to that. But now…now you have some questions to answer.”

  Casey nodded his approval.

  “You,” said Artorius while pointing at Monson.

  “Cyann.”

  He pointed towards the direction of the girl’s dormitory.

  “Explain.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Arthur.”

  “I’m going to ignore the use of that name for the moment.” Artorius was trying to sound dignified. “Don’t try and cloud the issue. What’s going on with you and Cyann? Are you guys together? How did this happen? Did you guys kiss? Or…?”

  Monson blushed crimson. “Don’t be ridiculous. We haven’t done anything like that.”

  Artorius’ face reddened. “But you were holding hands!”

  Monson rolled his eyes. “Yes, I grabbed her hand for a moment or two.”

  Casey broke in, patting Artorius on the back. “Down, boy.”

  Ignoring Artorius’ glare, Casey questioned Monson.

  “She was saying something about understanding you. What was that all about?”

  Monson stuttered on his words, nearly choking on his own embarrassment. “You-you were listening…that whole time?”

  “Listening? Of course we were listening. I’m just sorry I didn’t videotape it. I could have taken you on the lecture circuit with the slogan, “Can’t get a girlfriend? Don’t lose hope! Monson Grey will show you the way!”

  Artorius and Monson gave Casey that familiar look. The one reserved just for him.

  “Anyway, while I’m working on your book deal, why don’t you tell us what she was on about.”

  Even though Monson was annoyed, he felt inclined to answer. “She was just curious about a certain aspect of my rather peculiar personality.”

  Casey broke in. “Her words or yours?”

  Monson’s eyes flew up. “What?”

  “Did she say that or did you?”

  “Yeah…still not getting it.”

  Casey let out an exasperated breath. “What exactly did she say, Grey? Her words exactly-don’t paraphrase.”

  Why would that be important? wondered Monson. But he answered all the same.

  “I don’t remember exactly what she said, Casey. She was going on about not understanding something despite reading me like a book.”

  “Why would she want to understand you? What does that even mean? Did she explain herself?”

  Monson shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands. “You got me.”

  “Interesting….” Casey walked to the window seat and reclined as he interlocked his fingers and placed them behind his head. A total Casey move, Monson understood it to mean that Casey was thinking seriously about something.

  “Was there anything else, anything at all? Think, Grey, the slightest detail could be important.”

  Monson shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. That was the gist of it. She was trying to figure out why I act the way I do. I told her she wouldn’t be able to figure it out even if she really wanted to. That’s when you guys showed up.”

  Artorius asked the question that Monson could tell they were both dying to know. “Then why were you guys all lovey-dovey?”

  Monson cocked an eyebrow. “Lovey-dovey?”

  “Don’t raise your eyebrow at me, Gr
ey. This is serious stuff. And yes, lovey-dovey. It’s the only word I could think of. You were holding hands. HOLDING HANDS, GREY. WITH CYANN HARRISON. Do you know what that means?”

  “Nope, not a clue.”

  “It means that Cyann could be your girlfriend.”

  “Is that the case, Grey? Are you guys making it offical or what?” Casey grinned maliciously. “Man, where is the bubbly when you need it.”

  “Casey, Arthur, calm down.” Monson did his best to keep his tone level. “You misunderstand. OK, yes, I grabbed her hand and she leaned on me a bit, but it wasn’t like that. She’s not like that. She is...hurting. It was just…you see…we were….”

  Casey and Artorius were hanging on his every word.

  “What, Grey?” they urged in unison.

  “It’s just…she’s a huge soap opera fan. We were acting out a very popular scene from some years back. Very dramatic, I’m telling you.”

  “Grey!”

  A knock on the door stopped Artorius and Casey from beating Monson senselessly.

  “Come in,” called Monson.

  Brian entered the room, but before he could even start speaking, Casey held up a hand.

  “Sorry, Bri-guy. You can’t have him.” Casey looked at Monson meaningfully. “We’re trying to pry some answers out of our dear Horum Vir. This is a matter of life and death. You understand, right?”

  Brian bowed towards Casey, smiling sympathetically. “I am sure that our dear young hero would be happy to explain his encounter with Cyann in detail later.”

  The three boys gaped at him. Monson voiced their thoughts. “Brian, how is that you always seem to know what we’re talking about?”

  “Because I am a very talented eavesdropper, Master Grey,” he replied without a trace of a smile.

  Monson was on the verge of bursting into laughter at Artorius’ incredulous stare, but controlled himself and was able to catch what Artorius said next. “You were eavesdropping on us? Isn’t that against some sort of butler code?”

  Brian laughed. “While I have mastered the skill of eavesdropping, Master Paine, this does not mean I use it all that often. Certainly not just now, as listening to your conversation was not exactly optional.”

  He glanced around at the boys, taking in their confused faces. “What I mean is, I am quite sure most of the people in the building heard your conversation, considering how loud your voices were.”

  Brian turned his attention to Monson. “I am proud of you, Master Grey. Ms. Harrison is a lovely young lady.”

  Monson shook his head. “It isn’t like that. She’s not my girlfriend. At this point, I’m not sure we’re even friends.”

  Artorius murmured, “You have a funny way of not being friends.”

  “Arthur, don’t be bitter especially when there is nothing to be bitter about. We are friends, plain and simple. ” Monson looked over at Casey. “A few weeks ago you mentioned that Cyann was adopted. What’s the word on her family? Can you elaborate?”

  Casey considered this. “I think I told you everything I know. But Gossip Guy might have more. Let’s see.”

  Monson rolled his eyes. Why didn’t he think of that?

  Casey stood up, indicating that the others should follow him. Monson, Artorius and even Brian walked the length of the apartment and settled themselves around Monson’s desk. Casey pushed the button under the lip of the desk, and the cover slid back and out of sight, revealing Monson’s computer, which sprang to life the second Casey tapped the keyboard. He brought up a browser, cleared the address bar, and typed in the blank space:

  gossipguysblog.blogspot.com

  The browser quickly loaded the website. They found the tag marked “Cyann Harrison,” and Casey clicked it.

  The page reloaded, a photograph of a younger Cyann filling the screen. She stood with a silver-haired man on a red carpet, surrounded by people. Monson had to wonder about this particular image as he noticed that the carpet was outside. He did not dwell on it-or rather, he was not given the opportunity to dwell on it-as many other pictures of Cyann loaded and Casey began to scroll through them. Images of Cyann in every setting imaginable dashed across the screen. Black-tie events, forest settings, meetings resembling political rallies, and much, much more gave the boys a unique perspective into the life of their classmate. Below this instructive scrapbook was an article with the title, Cyann Harrison: A Gossip Guy Exclusive.

  Casey pointed at the article. “I’ve read it. I’ve been trying to figure out who her fencing master was. She’s so talented and yet I had never heard of her. It was a lot harder to find information on her than I thought. Luckily Gossip Guy came through.”

  Monson rubbed at his chin contemplatively; “I don’t understand how that’s possible. If she’s as high-profile as you’ve told me, how could you not have heard of her? You’re from a family of high rollers, aren’t you?”

  Casey sounded distinctly uncomfortable. “Cyann came on the scene just a couple of years back it was-”

  “Right around the time that he and Kylie had their falling out,” interrupted Artorius. “He was pretty much useless after that.”

  Monson’s curiosity flared again at the mention of Kylie’s name. He and Casey had seen her skulking around the back halls of the Yard, and Casey had tried to follow her. Or was that part of Monson’s dream? He wasn’t sure.

  “What about you, Artorius?” asked Monson. “Did you hear anything about Cyann before this year?”

  Artorius shook his head. “No. Though that’s more from me being inattentive than anything. I know that her adoptive mother is quite a bit younger than her dad. She’s his second wife; the first passed away a long time ago. Cyann’s adoptive mom was actually a pretty famous fashion model. She works with my mom quite a bit. Small world, huh?”

  “Yeah, small world,” echoed Monson.

  “Master Grey.” The three boys turned their attention to Brian.

  “Yeah, Brian?”

  “What is it about Ms. Harrison’s early past that has you so intrigued?”

  “That’s a good question.” Monson watched intently as Casey moved to the second page of the Cyann article. “I don’t know. I’d like to know where she came from and see what made her….”

  Monson trailed off, not finishing his thought.

  “Master Grey?”

  Monson did not hear Brian’s voice. Monson could not hear Brian’s voice. The information that was now flowing from the high-definition flat screen to his eyes, up his optical nerves, and into his brain caused his mental functions to sputter, cough and eventually stall. His eyes followed a small streaming banner across the bottom of the page. The tiny scrolling title read, “Marques Grey and the Horror of Baroty Bridge.”

  Chapter 29 – Marques Grey

  “Who’s Marques Grey?” asked Artorius quietly, noticing Monson’s reaction to the text.

  Monson kept his eyes on the screen, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  “Marques Grey is my grandfather.”

  Monson did his best to keep the emotion out of his voice.

  “Casey, click on that link.”

  Casey’s apprehension came through clearly as he spoke. “Grey, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Monson considered the question. “No, but I think it’s something that needs to be done.”

  He smiled. “Besides, it’s on the Internet. I’ll probably hear about it anyway. Might as well get it from the source.”

  Casey reluctantly clicked the link. The high-speed connection picked up the feed, loading a second browsing tab and a video player. The video started after a few seconds with the title, “Gossip Guy Presents,” fading in from the black background., The screen changed and new words appeared: “Marques Grey and the Horror of Baroty Bridge.”

  An anchorperson sat behind a desk in a massive newsroom. Monson instantly recognized him; it was Derek Dayton.

  The camera zoomed in sharply on Derek. A furious expression blazed from his face. He smiled devilishly.
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  “The one responsible for the attack on Baroty Bridge is none other than Marques Grey.”

  Monson cringed as anger and shock bubbled within him. Artorius, Casey and Brian all looked at him with concern.

  “Good morning, Coren University, and welcome to Coren’s All Access.” The rest of Derek’s words were drowned out by Monson’s strengthening voice.

  “What’s Coren’s All Access?”

  Casey chuckled slightly, though it sounded forced. “Grey, I swear you purposely remain ignorant sometimes.”

  “Actually, it’s not surprising, Casey-Grey doesn’t have the same floor responsibilities that we do,” interjected Artorius.

  “The All Access is a news channel that plays in the morning on each floor. It’s been around for a couple of years. Derek is the anchorman and president of the club that runs the station. Most people don’t pay much attention to it-they consider it kind of a joke.”

  Derek’s scornful voice drew their attention. They turned back towards the monitor.

  “Our special topic is a sad and tragic one. An event that broke the heart of a nation and her citizens as it affected them in the most brutal of manners. This story is one of righteous anger directed at those who dare call themselves human after causing this horrific event.”

  A flinty glint made its way into Derek’s eyes as he paused, probably intending to increase the tension. He continued his oration. “I’m Derek Dayton and this is a Coren University All Access News Network exclusive report on the horror of Baroty Bridge.”

  Music began and a parade of credits played across the web player. When the image paused, everyone looked at Casey.

  “You paused the player.” Monson’s voice sounded hollow in his throat. “Why?”

  Casey fidgeted, playing with the mouse in his hand. “You sure you want to watch this? We don’t have to.”

  “I know.” Monson ran a shaky hand through his hair. “It’s OK. Go ahead.”

  Casey nodded reluctantly and restarted the player. Lines of moving credits scrolled quickly, then Derek started speaking again. Different images flashed in the upper right-hand corner as he did.