by C. A. Gray
Peter stared at her for a second and said finally, “Why are you so intense, anyway?”
“Because…” she looked away, suddenly seeming bashful. “Well, I don’t usually talk to real people.” Then she added hastily, “I know, I know that sounds crazy. But most of the people I know are enmeshed. When I talk to them, I’m not really talking to them. I’m talking to it. But you’re different. I never know what you’re going to say before you say it.” Then without warning she flushed and added, “I know you’re wrong and everything. But it still sucks that of all people, you think I’m crazy.”
“I said I don’t think you’re crazy,” said Peter.
Suddenly Lily’s eyes grew wide with unbridled vulnerability, and filled with tears. Hastily she muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m being stupid,” wiping them away. “You probably think I’m ridiculous.”
“No,” said Peter uncomfortably, “I just wish you’d stop crying about everything.”
To his surprise, Lily laughed. “It’s so weird.”
“What?”
“When you tell me what you’re thinking, I just have to… take your word for it.”
Just then, Brock approached them with a most unwilling expression. His siren gave Lily a look that plainly wished her a painful death, but Brock said through gritted teeth, “Want to know if you want to see a movie with me tonight.”
Lily blinked at him in surprise, and she and Peter exchanged a look. Peter held up his hands as if to say, don’t look at me.
“Why?” said Lily suspiciously. She addressed the question to the siren.
Because Harry bet you box tickets to the football game this weekend that you can’t get her to go out with you now, that’s why! snapped the siren furiously. It’ll ruin your reputation. Don’t you dare! Those tickets are not worth it!
“Ah, I got it,” said Lily. “So you get the tickets, but what’s in it for me?”
Brock’s mouth fell open, and Peter looked from Brock to Lily and back again, trying to track the conversation. Brock recovered quickly, though, and said, looking rather nauseated, “You get instant status for being seen with me.”
Peter laughed aloud incredulously.
“I see. And I care about that because?”
Forget it, just walk away! shrieked the siren.
Brock was momentarily dumbfounded again. “How can you not care about status?” he said before he could stop himself.
Lily laughed coldly. “When you’ve seen as much as I have, you’d be surprised at how superficial your little social world seems.” Then she tilted her head to the side and cast another look at Peter, who was almost as flabbergasted as Brock. She looked back at Brock and said unexpectedly, “All right. You’ve got a deal.”
“Fine,” said Brock shortly, as his siren let out a howl of frustration. “Meet me at the cinema in Norwich at five thirty.” Then he turned on his heel and stalked off, looking quite happy to end the conversation.
“What… in the world…” Peter began, gesturing from Lily to Brock and back again. “What did you do that for?”
Lily shrugged. “I dunno. Just to make his siren mad, I guess. She’s really annoying.”
“His what?”
“Brock’s specter,” she explained. “Like from ‘The Odyssey’ – you know the sirens on the island that tried to lure Odysseus and his men to their deaths? Loads of teenage boys like Brock have these stunningly seductive female specters, so I sometimes call them sirens.” Then she added, “You have no idea what a relief it is to be able to say stuff like that out loud!”
Peter shook his head incredulously. “You are –”
Lily cut him off, “If you say barking, Peter, I swear –”
“I was going to say fantastic!” he held up his hands, laughing.
Lily regarded him for a moment, and then a smile curled the corners of her lips. “You know what would make this even better?”
“What?”
“If you came too.” She grinned wickedly.
Peter stared at her like she’d grown an extra head. “You’re not serious. On your date?”
“Well, it’s not a real date, is it? Besides, you’re an even bigger social misfit than I am, he’ll absolutely hate it.”
He blinked. “Gee, thanks.”
“Hey, not like it’s a secret, is it? Took me like a day to figure that out.” She shrugged. “Then maybe after the movie, we can go have dinner with your dad.”
Peter winced, but then he thought about it. What was the harm now, really? Lily already believed everything his dad would be likely to tell her, and she was even more anxious to keep the whole thing a secret than he was. Besides, he couldn’t think of any better explanation than the penumbra for the conversation he’d just seen Lily carry on with Brock. If both she and his dad saw the same creatures (and his dad had claimed there were also others, hadn’t he?), and if they weren’t insane, then there had to be some scientific explanation. The more he could learn about what it was they thought they were seeing, the more likely it would be that he could form some sort of hypothesis about it.
Aloud, Peter said, “Okay, on one condition. You never, ever, ever repeat to anybody what my dad tells you!”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Please. As if anyone would believe me anyway!”
***
“You’re doing what?” Cole laughed heartily, clutching his side so it wouldn’t split. “Can I please, please come along? Just to see the look on Brock’s face?”
Peter looked up. “Would you? I can’t believe I let her talk me into this, but if you’re there, maybe you’ll get the brunt of it.”
Cole cackled. “Don’t worry, Brock’s just a big coward at heart. Aw, he’s gonna love this!”
They sat on the edge of the lake on the school grounds, their feet dangling over the water with shoes and socks still on because it was much too cold to wade. Classes were out for the day and they were killing time before heading home. After a few moments’ thought, Cole added, “What does your dad want to talk to Lily about afterwards, anyway?”
Peter bit his lip and skipped a pebble across the water. He had told Cole about both the movie and dinner with his dad afterwards, but he had made it clear that his dad wanted to speak to Lily alone. He didn’t want to make Cole think his dad was a nutter either, and he also felt compelled to protect Lily’s secret, even though she hadn’t specifically asked him to, and she didn’t seem to protect it very well herself. “Long story,” he said evasively.
Cole accepted this and changed the subject. “So you think we should just show up at the cinema, then?”
Peter grinned back. “Let’s do it.”
Cole flagged down a taxi as it pulled up to the front of the school. Ordinarily they took the buses, since they were cheaper, but the buses had been on strike for the past week and a half, which was not uncommon in Norwich.
Several yards away, far enough that neither Peter nor Cole noticed him, but close enough that he could hear every word, a skinny young teenager with a jagged scar across his right cheek strolled casually to a silver Land Rover that did not belong to him, and followed the taxi into town.
Chapter 6
“Shut your face. That is not what it says,” said Cole, deadpan. He and Peter stood in front of the cinema, and Peter had just read Lily’s text message that told him the title of the film she and Brock were going to see. “’Revenge of the Hell Child 3?’”
Peter snickered as he paid for the tickets at the kiosk. “Guess he wanted to make really sure it didn’t seem too romantic.”
“It’s only rated 12A,” Cole observed, and said doubtfully, “so maybe it won’t be as gruesome as it sounds…”
They ducked inside the darkened cinema, which still flashed trailers on the screen. Except for a smattering of people here and there, most of the seats remained empty. That usually happened in the cinema on game days.
“So does this mean you like this girl or what?” Cole whispered, right as Peter caught sight of Brock and Lily sitting
only two rows from where they stood.
“Shh!” Peter hissed in horror, hoping she hadn’t heard. “No, I like Celeste, you know that!”
Both Brock and Lily looked up at Peter’s shushing noise, and Lily broke into a grin. Brock’s face, however, went through a series of permutations ranging from shock to incredulity to seething fury. He finally settled on the latter.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. It wasn’t clear whether he meant Cole, Peter, or both.
“Oh, hey Brock!” said Cole casually, as if running in to them was a complete coincidence. “Hi Lily! Funny seeing you here. Pete and I were both just saying how we fancied a good horror flick this afternoon, weren’t we, Pete?”
Peter had never seen Brock so angry, and that was saying something. He found it a little alarming and wondered how Brock would make him pay for his importunity, but he still had to admit, it was rather funny. “Absolutely,” he choked out.
“Pick a different one,” Brock said through gritted teeth, emphasizing every word.
“Oh, Brock, it’s okay,” said Lily, playing along, as if she really thought Brock protested for her sake. She actually winked at Peter, and he swallowed the nervous giggle that almost escaped unbidden. “I don’t mind! There’s plenty of room. Why don’t you guys come and sit by us?”
“Hey, thanks!” said Cole gallantly. “Don’t mind if we do!”
As he scooted past Brock to Lily’s other side, Brock snarled to his brother under his breath, “If you don’t leave right now, I will kill you in your sleep.”
Cole smiled winningly and whispered back, loud enough that both Peter and Lily could hear, “You wouldn’t want your lovely date to think you were ungenerous, now, would you?”
Lily shook silently with laughter. She caught Peter’s eye and he grinned back, feeling himself begin to relax. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Do you mind?” hissed a pockmarked teenage boy behind them. “The movie’s starting!”
Peter sat next to Lily. Cole settled in on Peter’s other side and whispered, “I’m pretty sure this will be a complete waste of an hour and a half, but even so, that was totally worth it!”
Several minutes and about twenty superfluous deaths into the movie, Peter glanced at Lily’s profile, illuminated by the flashing screen. He whispered under his breath, quietly enough that only she could hear, “So how’s it going?”
“We’d only just gotten here. Your timing was perfect,” she breathed back with a grin.
“How’s the, uh, siren taking it?”
“She’s livid, of course. She’s plotting your untimely deaths.”
“We’ll have to watch our backs, then,” Peter joked. But he half wondered if Brock might actually make good on the threat.
Lily went on, “So are we getting a taxi to your house for dinner after this?”
Cole heard them and leaned in to listen. Brock stared stolidly at the screen, his teeth gritted.
“That’s the plan,” Peter whispered back. “I have about thirty quid on me in cash.”
Cole leaned in. “Pete, I just remembered something.”
“What?”
“There’s a football game going on.”
Peter’s face fell. “Oh no.”
“So what?” said Lily.
“The game will be getting out right when we’re headed to my place,” Peter explained, “which means all the taxis will probably be full. We could be stuck here for hours.”
Brock leaned forward and hissed, looking at Peter and Cole, “Will you two shut up?” He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the sound of their consonants carried, and Lily’s back had been turned toward him for the past several minutes as she whispered to Peter.
Lily exchanged a look with both Peter and Cole, who shrugged. They knew she was asking if they had any better ideas, but neither of them did.
“Hey, Brock?” she whispered.
He looked at her suspiciously.
“My foster parents aren’t going to be home for a while, and I was wondering if your driver wouldn’t mind dropping me at Peter’s house afterwards?”
Peter and Cole both winced.
“No way,” said Brock, folding his arms across his chest. “Find your own way there.”
“You do realize I can call Thomas for a ride too,” Cole whispered to his brother, leaning across Peter and Lily. “In fact I’ll text him right now, and you can either come with us to Pete’s or wait here until he’s done dropping us off…” he pulled out his phone and flipped it open.
“Fine!” Brock snapped, his eyes flashing at his brother. “I am so gonna kill you, you have no idea!”
In response, Cole flipped his phone shut with a self-satisfied smirk.
The pockmarked kid kicked the backs of their seats. “Seriously! What is your problem?” he hissed, and emphasized his irritation with several choice expletives.
Two seats down from the pockmarked kid and directly behind Peter, the teenager with the scar sat with his elbows on his knees, head low. He appeared to be watching the screen, but was close enough to hear nearly every word Peter said. He had heard enough now, though. He stood up and walked out.
***
Kane exited the cinema and headed toward Café Orion across the street, his long gray overcoat swinging at his knees and concealing his skinny frame. He ordered a coffee and pretended not to notice that the girl behind the register was staring at his scar. He knew that the combined effect of the overcoat and the scar made him look a bit frightening and much older than his fourteen years – a fact that he rather enjoyed. When he retrieved his coffee, Kane settled himself on the nearly deserted patio, with a clear view of the cinema exit. The four teenagers would have to pass right by him on their way to the Jeffersons’ car anyway.
Kane had been waiting for an opportunity like this one for a very long time. Ideally he would not have to involve the other three (not to mention their driver), but he didn’t see any way around that. Cole and Lily were probably both destined to end up living in Carlion anyway – especially Lily, since she was obviously a Seer, and Cole would probably become one the moment somebody told him of the existence of the penumbra and the nimbi. Isdemus would forgive him for their involvement. Brock and the driver were a bit more of a complication, but they had the car, so Kane supposed their presence couldn’t be helped.
Just then, the group emerged from the cinema. They weren’t moving very fast, so Kane knew he had plenty of time before he would be in any danger of losing their trail. Not for the first time, Kane narrowed his eyes at Peter, wondering what in the world everybody thought was so special about him.
Peter had a scrawny frame; no other word could describe it. Moreover, he was fourteen, Kane’s own age, and he still had yet to become a Seer, despite having heard the legends all his life, nor had he discovered his power yet (while he, Kane, figured it out with no help from anyone by the time he was eight). Peter certainly possessed intelligence, but most of that was probably because he studied constantly, due to his status as a social reject. He has to do something with his time, Kane thought scornfully.
In spite of all contrary evidence, Isdemus still insisted that Peter was the Child of the Prophecy, so the rest of the Watchers also believed – because of course, Isdemus never makes mistakes, Kane thought bitterly. The others therefore assumed blindly that Isdemus must know something that the rest of them did not. Peter’s bloodline did come from King Arthur, though – that much he couldn’t deny.
But so did Kane’s.
Or at least it might. Kane’s mother died when he was four, and he never knew his father. Isdemus found him in an orphanage when he was eight years old. Moreover, he was the youngest member of the Watchers ever inducted, and Isdemus himself had practically raised him. Also, Kane’s gift of the Ancient Tongue was one of the rarest and most powerful of all: he could manipulate air, which made him effectively telekinetic. So far, the energy within Kane’s own body limited the size and speed of the objects he c
ould move with the Ancient Tongue, but every day he got closer and closer to the threshold of his own capability. The vivid scar on his cheek was a constant reminder of his failed attempts… but I will not always fail. I will prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Isdemus and the rest of the Watchers are wrong about Peter Stewart.
The four quarreling teenagers rounded the corner, walking towards the car park where Thomas waited for them, giving Kane enough of a buffer that they wouldn’t notice him. He left his half-empty cup of coffee on the round wooden table and ducked out of the café, jogging towards the silver Land Rover he had hot-wired. He was three years too young to drive, but rules like that had never stopped him before.
Even if Kane lost sight of the others completely, he knew exactly where they headed. He could drive the route to Peter’s house blindfolded.
When he got to the car, Kane turned the ignition and picked up speed. Once out of the city, the country road meandered for miles and miles without any cross streets feeding into it. So when Kane saw the Jeffersons’ BMW ahead, he knew it was the only other vehicle on the road: there was no traffic. The city was jammed with people just getting out of the football game, but none of them had yet made it this far out. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, passing the BMW so quickly in the oncoming traffic lane that he was sure they picked up speed from the draft he left in his wake. Then he looked in the rearview mirror and smiled. Kane sped even faster until the Jefferson car’s headlights disappeared behind him.
Finally, he came to the only blind bend in the road. He cleared it just far enough that the Jeffersons’ driver would be able to see him and hit the brakes, but not so far that he’d actually have time to stop. Then he slowed down and parked his car mostly on the shoulder of the road, but with the back edge purposely jutting out into the oncoming lane, like a target. He killed the lights, and got out of the car. They should be only minutes behind him.