by Louisa Lo
Even in pure spirit form, I could tell that Eldon had been through a lot of pain. “Not until I can find some clue as to where you are.”
I looked around. It was just a room with white walls and no windows. It wasn’t revealing a lot of details to his whereabouts. He could be anywhere. On any plane.
“Just go, Finny,” Eldon begged. “There’s nothing here you can learn. Just go so I know you’re far away from this. I can bear anything if I know you don’t have to watch it.”
Seeing the anguish and concern in his eyes, I realized something.
“You cut off our connection after your capture, didn’t you?” It was the only explanation that made sense.
His expression was unapologetic. “Yes. And now you broke through my block. Don’t do it again. Now go.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and bit back a sob.
How many times was I supposed to lose him? I lost him to strategies and planning when he learned of my inevitable departure from Dualsing, though unbeknown to me at the time, he was secretly plotting to keep me there. I lost him to greed and ambition when I refused to take part in the conspiracy, knowing I was only one of the two reasons he wanted the crown. Now, right this moment, I was losing him to pain and torture. And I would lose him yet again, for good this time, when my friends and I managed to send him home.
I opened my eyes to a sea of faces above me. Megan, Fir, Mel, Gregory, and even Candy. They stood over me, talking among themselves.
“My ma is the one good with the healing spells. I tried everything I could think of,” Candy was saying to everyone. “She’s not waking.”
Megan’s eyes jumped to mine and widened. “She’s awake!” She crouched on the floor next to me. “You okay?” she asked with concern.
I lifted a hand to my cheek. It was wet with tears. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”
Chapter Fourteen
Once Was At Hogwarts
“SO FAKE SUI-LING NEVER showed her true face.” I paced back and forth after Serafina told us about her experience.
“Or his true face,” Fir pointed out. “It could be anyone under that disguise.”
“Maybe it’s someone we know.” Gregory really knew how to brighten my day. “Maybe there’s a way to ferret him or her out.”
“Nah. Too many candidates.” I shook my head. “The Greys are a group of arrogant, bigoted vengeance demons who hate anyone they consider not pure enough to walk the planes, right? I can list at least twenty families who didn’t want to invite me to their children’s birthday parties because I had trickster blood in me, and that’s just the first grade. If I had received a penny for every vengeance demon who’d ever given me a dirty look or a cold shoulder, I would have been super rich by the time I had finished elementary school.”
A look of understanding came over Gregory’s face. We might not have a lot in common, but I bet my experience growing up as a hybrid was similar to his as a bastard.
“If we can’t even be sure if there’s a traitor already planted in our lives, what are we going to do?” Fir asked.
“We continue on,” Serafina said quietly. Now that her tears were dried her eyes shone with determination.
“She’s right,” I said. “We move forward.”
***
With Serafina’s map, we knew the exact intersection of the windy city where Alpha’s presence had last been recorded.
Fir pulled some strings with a few relatives in the city I had never even met before, and off we went to Chicago, our teleporting completely off the books. We couldn’t afford the Council finding out about these changeling kids. Thank Hades they were always underestimating the resourcefulness of tricksters. Arrogance was definitely their weakness.
Our destination was the Loop, Chicago’s central business district. It was home to City Hall, and an abundance of theatre houses and high-end hotels. Fir, having been to the city a few times before to visit our relatives and attend the annual Tricksters Unite Convention, became our de facto guide. We teleported to an empty private parking area behind a sushi place, and from there he took us to the intersection of North Canal Street and West Madison Street.
There was nothing here except row after row of office buildings. Plenty of banks, venture capital firms, and insurance companies, but none of those were places someone under eighteen would hang out. There wasn’t even a single school in the next five blocks.
Even vengeance society had need of a financial district. The difference from the human one was, of course, the vengeance aspect: the banks had special safety deposit boxes for highly dangerous, licensed-by-the-ounce fairy dust, the venture capital firms invested in vengeance-tracking apps, and the insurance companies offered policies for risk of legal dispute over the first right of vengeance.
The fur would be flying at the latter if this war on changelings actually happened.
I squinted at the setting sun, just peeking between the clouds and the tall buildings. I couldn’t believe that nightfall would soon be upon us. Was it really less than forty-eight hours ago that I was happily punishing some mean old lady at a hospice? Those were the simple days.
“Now what are we going to do?” Gregory asked the question that was probably on everyone’s mind.
Before coming here, having the exact location that Alpha had been seemed like a solid, and even easy, lead. But now, looking at this busy intersection lined with soaring skyscrapers and more people in suits than the national average, doubts started to creep in. Sure, Fir and Serafina claimed that they’d know when they saw Alpha, but there was a sea of people here, and we didn’t have a physical description of the teen. And just because he passed by here over a year ago, there was no guarantee he would again any time soon.
I squared my shoulders. Time wasn’t our friend here; we had to keep going. “We know two things about him: his most-likely gender, and the fact that he’s probably in his late teens, being this close to returning to the changelings. I suggest that we divide into teams, and do some scouting. I can go with Fir and take the left side of the street, Gregory and Serafina can take the right. Shouldn’t be hard to spot a teenager in Suits Central.”
If he’s here to begin with, a cynical voice in me whispered. I ignored it.
All along the street level were chic delis catering to the business crowd. As Fir and I walked down the block, we passed at least three or four of them, filled with local office workers.
Suddenly I saw a group of teens with backpacks coming out of one in the next block, frozen yogurt cones in hand. They looked so out of place in the land of the suits, which was just what I had hoped to find.
I ran straight to them, dragging Fir with me. With his potbelly, my half-brother wasn’t exactly fond of the excursion, but I didn’t want to lose sight of the teens.
I startled them with my approach, making one teen almost drop his treat. They were dressed in torn jeans and stained sports jackets, different from the neat and conservatively dressed miniature adults I went to high school with, but there was no doubt that the teens were vengeance demons.
I turned to Fir and raised my eyebrow, but he shook his head, indicating that none of the teens in our presence was Alpha.
But who was to say they didn’t know where Alpha might be?
“Hey, guys, where are you from?” I asked. “I didn’t know there was a school around here.”
Urgency might have made my voice harsher than I’d intended. And the teens, who were probably still in their rebellious phase, didn’t react well to it.
“Why should we tell you anything? Who the heck are you?” one of them, the ringleader by the look of him, demanded. Despite the bravado, his eyes darted nervously. In fact, the entire group looked uncomfortable but defiant, as if they were caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Judging from the backpacks, the yogurt treats in hand, and the day of the week it was—Tuesday, a traditional extended school day for vengeance high school, I was willing to bet that these guys were in the middle of skipping class
es.
Great. Young, defensive, and pack mentality, not a good combination.
“Hey, man, it’s not who they are, it’s what they are.” The ringleader’s Number Two sniffed the air and everyone else did the same. I saw the moment they smelled the trickster in me and Fir. Their demeanor changed from worried to disdainful.
“Oh, I know where these two are from.” The ringleader smirked. “The welfare office.”
They all laughed. Shabbily dressed or not, the teens had the same arrogance as any other vengeance demons.
“Ahem.” Fir coughed, muttered for my ears only, “See how it’s done, girl.”
Fir wrapped himself in a new trickster spell he had recently invented called Your Worst Nightmare. It caused its victim to see whatever they least wanted to see. The group of teens paled, then all talked at the same time, fighting to be heard.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Doctus,” the ringleader said in an overly-bright tone to Fir.
“We have a spare class. We’re not skipping, I swear.” Number Two was quick to cave.
“Please don’t tell my mom,” another teen begged.
“I’m going to overlook this,” Fir said sternly, “if you get the hell out of my face and head straight back to school.”
The teens didn’t need any more encouragement. To their hastily retreating backs, Fir added, “And go to the nurse station and tell them to vaccinate you for the pixie flu with the fattest needle they got.”
Gregory and Serafina had caught up with us just then. Fir gestured. “Come on, let’s follow them. These kids might be going to the same school as Alpha. Maybe he was here because he was skipping class as well.”
“We found no teen in our search.” Gregory shrugged. “So we might as well.”
We tailed the teens as they ventured back to class. Their path took us through alleyways, parking lots, and side streets all the way to the metro. Three stops later, free for them on Tuesday, not for us, and a few more local twists and turns, they arrived back at their school. It had been a complicated route, but all in all, the trip had taken no more than fifteen minutes.
Now I knew why this intercity school didn’t show up on our radar when we looked at the intersection’s surrounding area—it was outside of the five-block radius we set. But if the teens know where they’re going, there was definitely enough time to go out, grab a yogurt, and get back, all within one skipped period.
Besides, at that age, doing these things wasn’t about being logistically worthy. It was about being part of a social group and bonding over the danger of being caught.
I should know, since they usually bonded over not inviting me to such outings.
I stopped in front of the high school and pointed at the name of the school, which was carved on a flat block of stone over the arc of the front entrance: Sir Advocatus Public High.
I elbowed Serafina, “Now is that irony, or a sign?”
“Did you just say a sign? I thought you don’t believe in fortune telling.” Merriment danced in the depths of Gregory’s eyes. “Feeling the effect of having met Mel?”
I shrugged. “I decided to keep an open mind.”
After all, Mel did give me adequate warning about catching Serafina.
“So,” Fir asked Serafina, “which one of your relatives is this Sir Advocatus referring to?”
Serafina shook her head. “I’ve lost track of who got what high school named after them.”
“Fair enough. Whoever it is, they got the equivalent of having their portrait hung in the bar’s bathroom anyway,” Fir commented.
“Why do you say that?” I asked curiously.
“Look around you,” Fir replied.
The high school consisted of one tiny main building and more than a dozen portable-converted classrooms, which, judging from rust leaking from their frames were originally intended as a temporary solution. There was graffiti spray-painted all over the brick of the main building and the vinyl exterior of the portables, and weeds ran rampant in the school ground.
“This is worse than any vengeance school I’ve ever attended,” I breathed. There was an air of neglect about the place, and my heart went out to the kids who had to spend their formative years in this environment. I thought no child was supposed to be left behind in our civilized society. What the hell was this place?
“Come on,” Fir said as he led us into the main building, “we need to find the administrative office.”
If the outside looked bad, the inside was no better. There was paint peeling from the yellowed walls, and the floor tiles were chipped in places. Walking on them posed a dangerous risk for those of us wearing kitten heels.
As we passed by the lockers, I saw a few of their doors were dented from repeated kicking. Just like everything else, the lockers were vandalized.
Then there was the smell of cigarette smoke coming out of a half-open door of a girl’s bathroom. Why in Hades were these vengeance demons’ kids getting into the human habit of smoking? Our metabolism processed that chemical crap right out of our systems before the associated high of addiction could be fully enjoyed, leaving one with nothing but stinky clothes.
This was truly and fully, a slum school.
Being born into a suburban neighborhood and going to school in the same area, I had no idea such appalling conditions existed in the public education system. I mean, I watched enough human teen movies to know such places existed, but the poor state of things were generally settings to show off either an exceptionally devoted math teacher or some sort of hip hop prodigy from the hood.
Reality was stark and sucky.
The administrative assistant, who was busy filing her nails, was no more charming. Her disinterest in helping us with the student records came less from her concern about privacy and more from her inability to do her job. Nothing had been filed since, like, never.
“That was…unproductive,” Gregory said dryly.
“Well, you’re the mercenary.” I glared at him. “Shouldn’t you be like, threatening her with bodily harm or bribing her with the latest nail color or something?”
“I would if she actually had any information of use.” He chuckled.
I sighed. I was hoping that if Fir or Serafina were able to physically touch the record of attending students, they would be able to identify Alpha. We would have to find another way.
“Fear not, there’s hope still. There are faint traces of changeling signature all around us. Alpha has been in this school. Maybe still is. I can feel it. We’re on the right track.” Fir gestured for us to follow him back to the locker area and held out his hand to Serafina. She took it without hesitation. With their hands joined, they started walking by the lockers one by one.
“We’re going to do this the old-fashioned way. Hopefully we can sense Alpha, or sense his stuff when it’s close by, or even better, if he bumps into us in the hallway,” Fir explained as he and Serafina walked farther ahead.
The school bell rang.
In an instant the hallway was filled with students heading to their next class, most of them with their winter jackets on, either hurrying out to the portables or returning from them. Most of them did more chattering and lingering than rushing to class, but then given the extended school day, who could blame them?
The crowd surge separated Gregory and I farther from Fir and Serafina, but there was nothing to do but ride it out.
Another surge—this time triggered by a group of jocks horsing around and the people trying to avoid them—almost knocked me over. Gregory reached out and steadied me, my back brushed against the hard muscles on his chest.
When he let go of me, I felt a wave of disappointment.
“So.” I coughed, mentally searching for something to talk about, feeling suddenly like Gregory and I were alone with each other rather than being surrounded by students. “I assume you’ve gone through the vengeance education system before?”
“Some of it,” he said noncommittally. “More so than Candy had been to witchcraft schoo
l.”
Great. Just because I was rattled by getting into the guy’s personal space, didn’t mean I wanted to give him the impression that I was trying to fish for his personal information. I couldn’t care less if he’d been in school long enough to read Vice and Vigilance, a classic novel about five vengeance demon sisters that was a staple for literature classes.
“You probably didn’t miss much.” I shrugged. “They got meaner by the grade.”
“I have no doubt. I did miss out on Of Vice and Men, though.” Gregory appeared thoughtful. “Ironically, I read it after I left school. Just picked it up from a bargain bin one day and started reading.”
It was weird how I happened to be thinking about assigned course material just now. “Wait, you read the required reading when you don’t have to? What’s wrong with you?”
“I have to. How else am I going to keep up my language skills so I won’t get tripped over by a technicality in a contract?” he said, deadpan.
I couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined in, self-mockery danced in the depth of his eyes.
Then we both stopped laughing abruptly, as if disturbed by how unguarded we were for a second there.
We kept walking.
Weird. There was an area ahead that everyone avoided. Initially I thought it must be a bad patch of the floor, or something gross to be avoided, until the kids went on their way and I managed to get a closer look.
On the floor was a large patch of green goo. The mass was constantly reshaping itself, one moment it looked like a body of water, and then it transformed to look like a mold of hard jelly. No matter how the goo changed though, it remained within a certain parameter on the floor.
As we watched, the goo rippled back to liquid form only to have parts of it firm up and form letters on the surface. The letters, solidified in a darker color of green, read:
NEVERMORE,
P.
Then under the words, a date from seven years ago.