by Scott Mebus
Nicholas stepped forward.
“But maybe he got around it! Maybe he figured out a way!”
“We appreciate the enthusiasm, lad!” Whitman cut him off, his eyes sympathetic. “But this is not for you or your friends. This Rattle Watch that Adriaen assembled could get you all in a serious amount of trouble. I know you mean well, but you’re stirring things up, which might do more harm than good. We will handle this incident. Everything will be fine! Better than fine! There will be justice, Alexa. I promise.”
The two gods said good-bye and headed off into the distance, talking softly to each other.
“I can’t believe he’s going to get away with it,” Nicholas muttered.
“We don’t need anybody else,” Lincoln said boldly. “We can take him. It’s five against one.”
“No,” Simon said dejectedly. “It’s everyone else against five. Five kids who aren’t even gods.”
This thought deflated them all.
“So what do we do?” Albert asked. Nicholas looked around at the uncertain faces of his friends.
“I don’t know,” he said. He had never felt so helpless.
Rory woke up out of the dark to an aching head. He forced his eyes open to let in the light, revealing a strange ceiling above him. He became aware of a throbbing in his arm, but he ignored it as he let his head fall to the side. A small couch came into view. Behind the couch, the wall was covered with hand-drawn pictures, but his eyes were still too blurry to make them out. Nestled in the center of the couch was Bridget, who had just noticed that her big brother’s eyes were open. Her face lit up as she hopped off the couch to rush to his side.
“Rory! You’re awake! I’m so sorry! I couldn’t do anything! It was so scary! I didn’t know what to do! It was just a kid and then it opened its mouth and bit you and you fell. I was so scared. I’ll never let that happen again, I promise. Next time, I’ll know what to do, I swear! But you’re okay. Right? Are you okay?”
Rory shook his head to clear some of the fog and discovered that, somehow, he actually was okay. His right arm ached a little, but nothing like what he would have expected. He pushed himself up to sit, looking around. He had been laid out on a small cot in the corner of what seemed to be an office. The windows looked out at some brownstones across the street, bathed in the golden light of afternoon. The pictures he’d first glimpsed covered all four walls, drawn in everything from a child’s hand to the crisp lines of a talented artist. The subjects of the drawings ranged from large green monsters to an all-too-familiar cockroach astride a rat. One picture in particular tugged at his memory. It showed a simple white-beaded circle, which, somehow, he knew to be a belt. He’d seen something like that before, but he couldn’t quite place it. He returned to his sister’s worried face.
“I’m okay. Where are we? How did we get away?”
Relieved, Bridget stepped back and pointed over his shoulder.
“He showed up.”
Rory turned to behold a strange sight. A kid, around ten years old, stood there holding a glass of water out to him. He was a strange-looking child. His short brown hair didn’t move, as if it were frozen in place. His face was waxy and delicate, and his skin reflected the light in a weird way. His features seemed thrown on, almost painted. Only his eyes, bright and hard, had any real life. Rory took the water, trying to understand what he was looking at.
“Thank you. What’s your name?” Rory asked.
The boy stared back at him, mute. Bridget whispered loud enough to make a drill sergeant jump.
“I don’t think he can talk.”
“Do you know his name?”
A new voice interjected.
“It’s Toy.”
Hex stepped into the room, quietly closing the door to the rooms within. Instead of the robes and hat he’d worn to the party the day before, he had on a simple shirt and jeans. The magician held out his hand, which contained two small white pills nestled in his craggy palm.
“Take these. They’ll help.”
Rory put them in his own palm, though he was wary.
“What is it?”
Hex lifted Rory’s injured arm slightly, forcing a gasp of pain out of Rory’s mouth.
“Some of the poison is still in you. The pills will counteract it. Otherwise I would have saved you now only to watch you melt away in a week or so.”
Bridget peered at the pills.
“We’re not supposed to take stuff from strangers.”
Hex chuckled ruefully.
“You’ve already met the Stranger and you survived. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.”
Though Rory didn’t entirely trust this medicine, the ache in his arm hurt too much. He downed the two pills and quickly chased them with the water. Almost immediately, his arm felt better. Hex smiled.
“See? You are a lucky boy, Rory. Bridget told me all about your little adventure. Sly Jimmy saved your life. He’s always setting off those firecrackers out in the alley. I was marching over to send him on his way when I heard your sister’s scream. I sent Toy ahead, and he was the one who knocked the Stranger off you.”
Bridget cut in, her eyes wide.
“Toy came out of nowhere. He just flattened that Stranger thing. And the thing kept trying to bite him, but it couldn’t get him. Finally there was this bright light and I couldn’t see anything but little black spots like the ones you get when you stare at a lamp too long. When the spots finally went away, that thing was gone!”
Hex lifted Rory’s arm again, checking it for abrasions. To Rory’s amazement, the skin where the little beast’s teeth had sunk into him now appeared smooth and unbroken. Hex noticed Rory’s expression.
“Creatures like the Strangers don’t leave marks where everyone can see them. That’s what makes them so dangerous. You don’t think to treat what you can’t see. The real worry comes when one of the Stranger’s teeth chips off and gets lodged in your skin. You’d have no idea it was there if you didn’t know to look for it.”
Rory poked at his arm with his other finger, marveling at his close call.
“What would happen then?”
“You’d change. I’ve never seen it myself, so I’m not sure what happens exactly, though I’ve heard tales. But you’d change, all right. Don’t worry, you’re fine. I did know what to look for and I didn’t find a thing. In an hour or so you’ll be right as rain. I promise. To finish the tale, I came on Toy’s heels and sent the Stranger on his way. Rory, the Stranger will come back. It may take a little while to heal, but then it will come looking for you again.”
Rory pulled his arm away, his frustration breaking through.
“Why? What did I do? What is a Stranger anyway? And who are you, really? I don’t understand what’s going on!”
Hex took Rory’s ranting calmly. He leaned back against a small desk.
“Those are good questions, and there are no simple answers to any of them. I’ll pick the easiest first. The Strangers live in the shadows, feeding off children like wolves, calling them into the dark where no one can see and devouring them. When your parents tell you to stay away from strangers, these predators are who they are unwittingly warning you about.”
Bridget pulled herself up on the little cot beside Rory.
“But it looked like a little kid!”
“That was adaptation at work. They take on the shape of children, small and innocent. No one feels threatened by a child, not until the child’s teeth bite into their neck.”
Rory shuddered, remembering those sharp teeth.
“Bridget told me that you have been jumping at shadows all day,” Hex continued.
Rory nodded. “I kept seeing eyes watching me.”
“That is what makes this unusual,” Hex said. “Strangers are scavengers, not hunters. They prefer to pick off the weak, not track their prey halfway across the island. And once it did corner the two of you, it never should have gone for the larger, stronger male. Which can only mean one thing: this particular Stranger was aft
er you, Rory.”
Rory shuddered again.
“Why does it want me? What did I do?”
Instead of answering, Hex gestured toward Toy.
“What do you see when you look at Toy, Bridget?”
Bridget looked closely at the small boy, narrowing her eyes until she could barely see through the slits.
“Um, a kid.”
Hex turned to Rory.
“And you, Rory? What do you see?”
Rory glanced over at the boy, noticing how the light bounced off his face.
“I don’t know. There’s something wrong.”
“What do you think is wrong with him?”
“He’s too shiny. There’s something weird about his skin.”
Hex allowed himself a slight smile.
“And what do you think is wrong with his skin?”
Rory took a closer look. That frail, thin, almost papery skin…paper.
“It’s paper. His skin is made of paper.”
Hex nodded slowly, pleased.
“Yes. Yes indeed. His skin is made out of paper.”
Bridget’s mouth opened. She peered closer at Toy, almost falling off the cot. Toy stared back at her blankly. Her eyes widened.
“You’re right! Why didn’t I see it before?”
Hex grabbed a chair, sitting down with creaking knees. He rubbed them absently as he spoke.
“Because you don’t have the gift. Now that Rory’s shown you the world behind your world, you’ll be seeing more and more of it on your own. And it’s actually quite impressive how quickly you’re seeing what he’s showing you. But that’s nothing compared to what your brother can do. Rory is the real prize. The big bear at the fair.”
“What are you talking about?” Rory retorted. “I’m nobody’s bear.”
“Of course you’re not. I’m talking metaphorically. I do that from time to time; I’m trying to quit. Rory, you have a special gift. You can see what’s there.”
“Wow,” Rory said sarcastically. “Where do I pick up my cape?”
“Don’t scoff. Most people walk through the world blindly, never noticing what’s right under their noses. You, on the other hand, can see it all. You see what’s there. You see the truth.”
Rory shot a glance over at Toy, who was still staring at Bridget.
“So he’s really made out of paper?”
“Yes he is. Papier-mâché.”
“Like a piñata!” Bridget exclaimed.
Toy flinched. Hex reached over and patted his hand, an affectionate look on his face.
“It’s all right, Toy. He’s a little sensitive. And I don’t blame him. It’s hard going through life made out of papier-mâché in a world filled with sticks. But I try to protect him as best I can.”
For the first time, Toy’s eyes softened and Rory caught a glimpse of affection on his face.
Bridget hopped down from the cot and walked over to him. “I’m sorry, Toy. I didn’t know. I would never make fun of you. You’re no piñata.”
Toy stared at Bridget, his eyes unreadable. She turned to Hex.
“Why can’t he talk?”
Hex patted Toy’s hand again.
“Unfortunately, he has no tongue.”
“That’s horrible.” Bridget reached out and took Toy’s hand. “I don’t care if you are paper. You still saved my brother’s life and that makes you cool in my book.”
Toy’s face didn’t change. He just stood there, letting his arm be moved up and down, staring at Bridget. Hex placed his hand softly on the back of Toy’s neck, like Rory had seen a thousand fathers touch their sons. He wondered if his father had ever showed him love like that. He couldn’t remember it. Something about that fatherly gesture made Rory look at Hex with new eyes. Maybe he could trust the strange magician after all.
“You are very kind, Bridget,” Hex was saying. “Toy is all I have, now that my son is gone. He has been a great comfort.”
A flash of pain flew across Hex’s face. Rory felt pity tug at his heart.
“What happened to your son?”
Hex forced a smile. “That is a story for another day. I will tell you, I promise, but today is about you. People are looking for you, Rory. Including me. They’ve been looking for over a hundred years. Not for you in particular, just for someone with your talents. You are a very valuable boy. So valuable they compelled a Stranger to hunt those like you, and, believe me, it is near impossible to force a Stranger to do anything but eat.”
Rory didn’t want to be valuable. He wanted to be alive.
“Why don’t they find someone else with my talents, then, and leave me alone?”
“There is only you, Rory. The rest of the Lights—that’s what you are, a Light—have all disappeared. Taken by a Stranger like that one, in all likelihood. The one thing in our favor is that I believe the people who control that Stranger are not yet aware of you. Strangers can only be compelled so far. It was trained to react immediately to any Light it sees. If I injured it enough, we might have a little time before its master is alerted. Or perhaps not; Strangers can be as obstinate as bloodhounds. There is no way to tell. One thing I do know, whoever controls that Stranger will not be kept in the dark for long.”
Cold panic gripped Rory.
“I don’t understand any of this. Why does anyone care what I can see? Anyway, you seem to be able to see all of this crazy stuff just fine. Why do you need me?”
Hex put up a hand to stop the torrent of questions. He ran the other hand through his sparse hair as he tried to answer them.
“There is a world all around you that most mortals cannot see. We call it Mannahatta. Some say it is the spirit world, while others believe it is the city itself dreaming, or rather remembering. If something or someone was important enough, loved enough, feared enough, imagined enough, remembered enough, then it is reborn here in Mannahatta. In turn, Mannahatta overlaps the everyday world and whispers in its ear, keeping the memories of the city alive. If something big happens in Mannahatta, a fight between spirits perhaps, it can wash over into the mortal world, causing everything from mild distress to riots and blackouts. But though we watch over them, most mortals will never see Mannahatta. This might sound strange, but I believe it’s because it is too true. People don’t want to see the real truth. They’d rather live in a fog. They don’t want to see the chips in the paint or the bums on the street. So they close their eyes to it, without even knowing it. But it’s the nature of a Light to see through all illusion to the truth, to face the truth and point it out to others. So you, out of all the mortals in the city, can see through to Mannahatta. That is very valuable to many people.”
Rory didn’t want to hear any of this. He wanted to go back home where the worst thing he could accidentally see was his neighbor Mr. Little in his underwear.
“But I never saw anything strange before yesterday. Never!” he protested.
Hex arched an eyebrow. “Never?”
Something tickled the back of Rory’s mind, but he ignored it.
“Never! You did this to me. With your stupid card trick.”
Bridget hopped up on the couch, pulling a pillow up on her lap.
“How did you do that trick, anyway? If Rory can see through illusions to the truth and stuff.”
“I didn’t use illusion,” Hex replied. “I used another method entirely. I’d heard of Rory from other magicians. The boy who sees through every trick. You’re famous in their circles. But how had you not been discovered? Lights don’t reach the age of twelve. They barely make it to three before they disappear. So I tracked you down. I followed you one afternoon and watched you stride by everything from a gang of rats beating up on a garbage monkey to a sidewalk seer speaking in tongues as she gave a reading to a living statue, all without blinking an eye. You didn’t seem aware of any of it. But something bothered me. Your eyes would pause, just for a second, too quick for anyone to notice if they weren’t looking for it. But I could see them flicker when you passed by these imposs
ible beings. And that stuck with me.
“When your sister’s birthday came around, I made certain I was the one hired. And sure enough, you saw through all my illusions without a problem. I knew there was definitely something going on. So I did a test, a trick you couldn’t penetrate. I wanted to see how you would react to something that couldn’t be real, but that you couldn’t ignore. And, boy, you did not like it one bit. And ever since, you’ve been seeing the things you’d been ignoring, haven’t you?”
Rory’s head swam with all this revelation.
“How did I do it, then? I don’t remember seeing any of those things you’re talking about. I’ve never even heard of a garbage monkey.”
Hex looked uncertain.
“I don’t know how you learned to shut out Mannahatta. Obviously you don’t remember it. But however it came about, it saved your life. The people on the lookout for the Lights never noticed you. You were hiding under their very noses all along.”
“Until now.”
“Yes. Until now.”
“So you did this to me,” Rory said. “I was doing fine until you snapped me out of it. You exposed me to things like that Stranger.”
Hex nodded sadly.
“Which would you have wanted?” He said. “They would have found you one day. No protection would have lasted forever. If I could find you, they could find you. Even if you were to leave New York, there are treaties between the cities, and one day a Stranger would appear at your door. You’d be a sitting duck, blinded or not. But I’m giving you another option, a chance to take control of your destiny. You can do what they’re afraid you’ll do—ruin all their plans—and then it will be too late for them. You’ll do a great service to our city and protect yourself forever at the same time.”