by Earl, Collin
“The thought had crossed my mind.” Monson sat up. “Can you tell me exactly what happened when I went under?”
“Most of it’s kind of fuzzy,” admitted Grayson, shaking his head. “We were just sitting there talking about—shoot, I don’t even remember now—when you closed your eyes and started breathing deeply. I spoke to you a bit, but it was like you were sleeping. Then all of a sudden a weird sort of energy or light spread around you and then expanded into something like a shell or cocoon.”
“Wait,” said Monson as something came to him. “What did it look like? The energy or light—was it material or tangible, or was it more like electrical energy?”
“What an odd question.” Grayson rubbed his face thoughtfully. “I don’t even really know. I remember thinking that if I got close enough I might be able to hold it. It reminded me of times seeing members of H.U.M.A.N.E use AOI, like you were expelling kei from your body and manipulating your surroundings, but it was truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“What happened after that?”
“The light gathered around you,” said Grayson while closing his eyes, apparently replaying it all in his mind. “There was a plethora of pulsating colors that mingled and competed with one another; then it was like one of those colors, or powers, or whatever it was, gave way. It was still for a moment, and then it shot out in every direction like you were a radar tower.”
“What?” said Monson confused. “Like a radar tower?”
“Yeah,” said Grayson. “That’s the only way I can think of to describe it. It was like the energy was pulsating, and then it was as if I could feel it rushing out to fill in the empty space around us. It was a very weird feeling.”
“What happened next?”
“All of this...” Grayson gestured around him at the massive amount of destruction. “It was a bit scary,” he said as an afterthought.
“But that still doesn’t explain how you managed to remain unharmed.”
“I’m not really sure how that happened, either. It happened so fast; by the time I really understood what was going on, it was all over. I do remember a feeling of someone wrapping their arms around me, like my mom used to do, you know?” He hesitated for the briefest second, then continued. “Everything that came towards me just seemed to miss after that, and then you fell to the floor. I’ve been watching over you ever since.”
“How odd,” said Monson.
“You bet your grits it was odd,” said Grayson, relapsing into his Southern accent.
Monson cocked the eyebrow.
“Too much?” he asked.
Monson laughed. “Way too much.”
Grayson smiled but it slowly turned into a grimace. “Monson, you haven’t heard the really weird part yet.”
Monson locked eyes with Grayson. “You mean weirder than all this.”
He motioned around the room.
Grayson bobbed his head up and down slowly. “Yeah, Grey—look at your right hand.”
Monson looked down to stare at his right hand. His scars. They were gone.
He stood up, went to the small fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water, which he downed half of in two large gulps.
Grayson just sat, deep in thought.
“So what do we do now?” Monson sat back down.
“Monson, why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Because I have nothing to say, at least not about my scars.”
He repeated his question. “So what do we do now?"
“I’m not sure there’s really anything that we can do,” replied Grayson. “I think you need put in some serious time to get control of your powers.”
“And how the heck do you propose I do that? I just found out about them.”
“I understand that.” Grayson attempted to maintain his calm demeanor. “I think we need to put some thought into this Magi Blade hype that your dream provided. Dawn said that was the key, didn’t he?”
“Yeah he did. But it’s not that easy. The only thing I know about magic is that I have to believe it exists. Where do I go from there?”
“Again, I don’t have any answers for you,” answered Grayson. “But in the past twenty-four hours I have seen you use magic not once, but twice. And though it was inadvertent, it was somewhat conscious. Maybe you should start there. Take some time, find a secluded spot, and try to access your power—preferably without causing widespread destruction.”
“Well, I can’t think of a better idea,” conceded Monson. “I guess I could give it a try.”
“One more thing. You should probably tell Arthur and Casey. They aren’t stupid and you don’t want them to find out without an explanation from you first. It’s better if you explain to them and swear them to secrecy.”
“I already promised Casey I would tell him what’s going on, so you don’t have to worry about that. Besides, I have something I need to discuss with both of them anyway.”
“What would that be?”
“Never mind, it’s not important. Is there anything else? Because I should probably get back to my place.”
“Yeah. I would try to make up with Taris as well.”
“Why?” Monson went slightly red at the turn in conversation.
“You froze most of the inner plumbing of the Atrium just because you got upset. I think we need to address the reason for that before you cause the first massive snowstorm in Coren’s history.”
“Ha ha,” said Monson with just a touch of sarcasm. “While we’re making requests, I have one of my own. While I’m doing all this training and damage control I want you to translate a copy of that journal for me if you can. I have a feeling there’s more to learn there. I need answers, and I don’t know how I’m going to get them otherwise.”
Grayson hesitated, but then said, “Will do, and remember to be careful.”
Monson started to move towards the door. “I will, Grayson. Thank you. Do you want me to help you clean up the mess?”
“No,” said Grayson with a smile and slight shake of his head. “I have people who do that sort of stuff."
“All right. Touch base with me later.”
“Will do.”
With that, Monson opened the door, leaving a thoroughly destroyed room behind him.
Chapter 45 - Runes
The next few days were quieter than Monson had expected. Grayson was quickly cleared of any wrongdoing, seeing that the school still had no idea how the perpetrator had destroyed the Atrium’s fountain. Monson was recovering from the earful he had received from both Artorius and Casey. To sum up: They couldn’t find him, he didn’t pick up his phone, and they were super pissed about it. They were worried that Monson was in some sort of trouble. He assured them that all was well and he appreciated their concern. The awkwardness that followed was uncomfortable, but predictable. He knew that they meant well and that he should provide them full disclosure, but working “magic” into the conversation proved difficult. How did one bring up something like that? Would they believe him without proof? Could he even prove it?
Monson flexed his unscarred hand in the leather gloves he was now wearing, a fact that his friends were all too quick to point out. He made up a few innocuous excuses that sated them…for the moment. However, for the long term he was not sure how he was going to explain them.
Monson laughed, unable to help himself. Baroty wore a glove to hide scars and now he wore one to hide the lack of scars. How truly ironic.
Confused and frustrated by his lack of control over his situation, Monson kept his mouth shut for the time being. He wanted with every fiber of his being to tell them, to let them know what was going on, but the words failed him. Just like the weight room experience, Monson held back the information. He did not even have a real excuse. Fear, perhaps; he did not know.
The secret ate at him, though, which was made worse once Grayson starting spending time with them all. Luckily, Artorius and Casey were pretty easygoing when it came to developments like this, so the transition went surpri
singly smoothly. But he had to come up with a way to explain the sudden camaraderie with Grayson. Ultimately, he pushed his fantastical issues aside. He would tell them. He just needed to find the right time.
His most pressing problems in the mundane realm were his relationships with Taris and Cyann. He knew at some point he was going to have to figure out what was upsetting them so much. This is what he got for spending time with women; he was about ready to kick the lot of them. The situation was starting to get desperate as the dance approached.“I don’t see what the issue is.” Casey leaned against the trunk of an oak tree in one of the more obscure parts of the Inner Gardens. “Taris can’t be that pissed you were late. This is just getting silly.”
Monson was sprawled out on the grass, an arm across his face covering his eyes. “That’s what I thought, but every time I try to call, she ignores it. I’ve watched her do it. Oh, and let’s not forget, when I try to talk to her in class she gets tears in her eyes. How am I supposed to talk when she’s practically crying? I’m just not equipped to deal with females.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Artorius supplied a quirky grin. “You should just leave the womenfolk to me. I’ll take care of Taris for you.”
“Arthur,” said Grayson, his southern accent quite noticeable. “Aren’t you like zero for a million? I think if we leave the ‘womenfolk’ to you, the human species will be in serious danger of premature extinction.”
Laughs permeated the air around them; Monson actually heard a snort coming from Casey’s direction. Artorius’ angry voice sliced through the laughter.
“Watch it, newbie. Just because you have a crush on Grey doesn’t mean you can get away with mouthing off.”
“Oh, I think I touched a nerve….”
Monson noticed Grayson’s pause and felt compelled to sit up. He was glad he did.
Standing regally in front of them was an extremely lovely girl with long, dark hair, very pale skin, and slightly plump lips. She had on a knee-length black dress, a frilly white apron, and a white cap. Despite her maid costume, there was an air of refinement about her.
“Ah, Marie,” said Grayson with great amusement at the look on Artorius’ face. “You finished up faster than I expected. How was your trip?”
“Delightful, and how are your studies, Master Garrett?” she responded in her girlish voice as she curtsied.
Monson leveled a gaze at Grayson, his signature eyebrow up as if to ask, Master?
Grayson simply winked at Monson, then made to answer. Marie cut him off, already at his side making a fuss.
“I don’t like the weather here, Master Grayson. You may come down with something. You should return to the summer manor. Your tutors could be contacted and I’m sure they would love to return to your service. Mistress Avery and Miss LaParo would be especially ecstatic at your return.”
She lightly touched the corner of his sleeve. “I too would be overjoyed.”
Monson attempted to stifle the laugh cultivating in his throat, but Casey and Artorius’ expressions were making it difficult for him to hold onto his composure.
“Never mind that.” Grayson’s voice pinged authoritatively. “Did you bring what I asked?”
“Of course.” Monson stared at Marie as she replied. Her pout made him want to rush over and whisk her away to the Bahamas. Monson froze when he realized he actually had the means to do that. Weird. “Both parcels are in your room.”
“Excellent.” Grayson leveled the merest half-glance at Monson and abruptly changed gears. He pointed at each of his companions in turn. “Marie, these are some of my friends I told you about. Monson, Arthur and the gentleman under the tree is Casey.”
Grayson ignored the spiteful look Artorius gave him at the unauthorized use of his hated nickname. Marie curtsied to each of them.
All three boys waved as Grayson pointed, which warranted a warm smile from the girl.
“My name is Marie Delastar. It is a pleasure to make all of your acquaintances.”
She refocused her attention on Grayson.
“What would you have me do now, Master Garrett?” she asked in a polite voice.
“Head back to the room. I will be there shortly.”
“Yes sir,” answered Marie softly. She turned and started to walk back towards the dorms, her conflict and emotion obvious.
Such a sharp contrast to her controlled confidence a few moments ago, Monson thought. He turned his attention to Grayson, who was watching the girl retreat.
Grayson called after her. “Oh, and Marie?”
She turned to peer over her shoulder. Grayson smiled slightly, whispering the words “Thank you.”
An endearing smile appeared and lit up Marie’s countenance. Monson hid his own smile.
“I think things just got more complicated,” Monson whispered to Casey. “I wonder what their relationship is.”
Casey replied in the same low tone. “She looks like a servant to me, but really young. I wonder old she is.”
“Eighteen,” said Grayson, overhearing their conversation. “Her mother served my parents so she’s kind of always been around.”
“Childhood friend, huh?” said Monson with a slightly malicious grin. “You wouldn’t happen to be in love with yours, too, would you? I think our little posse has had more than enough drama in that arena. Besides,” Monson pointed at Casey, “the track record in this group for that kind of thing isn’t exactly what I would call stellar.”
Casey, catching on to Monson’s teasing, jumped up. “You’re going to pay for that one, Grey.”
Monson rolled and hit his feet in the blink of an eye. Casey was already in a crouch, reminding Monson how incredibly fast he was. They circled one another, Monson watching Casey closely, waiting for him to change his stance. They remained like that for a short period, though to Monson, his senses heightened, it felt much longer. Many of their sparring matches started out this way, so it was a considerable surprise when Casey dropped his guard and stood looking confused.
Monson kept his guard up, but curious as to Casey’s sudden absence of aggression, looked over his shoulder. Indigo Harrison stood nearby with a couple of other girls from their class. She grinned deviously. This was odd considering that Indigo rarely came around anymore, ever since Monson had started seeing Taris.
Monson rolled his eyes the instant he thought this. “Seeing”—as if you could really even call it that. Besides, he hated that expression. Seeing someone? What did that even mean?
Indigo’s absence had proven to be quite the problem for Artorius at first. However, he no longer talked about it much, so Monson and Casey assumed that all was well.
“And to what do we owe the honor?” asked Casey, all thoughts of retribution apparently forgotten. “It is so kind of you to grace us with your presence. Forgive me if I don’t curtsy.”
“Can it, Cassius.” Indigo stuck out her tongue at him. “Actually, I have two birds to kill here and you just happen to be one of them.”
Artorius giggled. “She just called you a bird.”
“Shut it, Arthur.”
Casey made a show of rolling his eyes. “What do you want with me, Harrison?”
“Actually it has nothing to do with me,” spat Indigo with a snotty sneer. She gestured over her shoulder. “Christy would like to talk to you about the dance.”
Christy was going to ask Casey to the dance! Now that was an interesting development. Monson knew that Christy and Casey had spoken a few times, but nothing that would warrant this kind of forwardness. Then again, it was getting closer and closer to the event. People were starting to get desperate. There was also a rumor that Christy, who had been dating an upperclassman, had just gotten dumped in the most brutal of fashions. Apparently in high school dance situations, desperate times sometimes called for desperate measures. Monson gave an inward sigh. Poor Casey.
“Hi Casey.” Christy beamed at him, looking both empty-headed and embarrassed. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Casey gave Monson a goofy little smile, then followed a nervous Christy a ways off, leaving the group in their wake.
“I think I’ll be leaving as well.” Grayson started to roll towards the sidewalk. “Monson, stop by later. I have something you might find interesting.”
When Indigo and Artorius were no longer paying attention, Grayson mouthed, “It’s here!”
Monson nodded his head, indicating his understanding. He quickly turned his attention back to Indigo, who was dictating her plans for the Spring Solstice. Monson thought he might as well leave, too. After all, Grayson was going to give him a copy of the journal, which could be his only tool in figuring out what in the world was happening to him. Despite the weight of that, Monson had an epiphany of epic proportions as he looked at Indigo. If there was anyone who would know why Cyann was acting like a nutbar, it was her sister.
“Hey Indigo,” he said, cutting into her monologue. Artorius actually looked at him with grateful eyes. “I was wondering how your sister’s doing.”
“What’s it to you?” Indigo’s expression was part scowl, part amusement.
“I just haven’t talked to her in a while,” said Monson, attempting to sound nonplused.
“And whose fault is that?”
“I’m not sure anyone’s really at fault. We’ve both just been busy.”
“Really—I thought that you guys stopped hanging out after you started hanging out with the cow.”
“Taris is not a cow,” said Monson angrily.
Indigo widened her eyes in an attempt to appear innocent. “Ooh, touchy! I’ve heard things aren’t exactly going well with her, either.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I wasn’t aware that I had.”
“You know what, forget it,” said Monson, standing up.
“OK, OK.” Indigo pulled at his arm. “To be honest with you, she hasn’t told me much. She’s spending a lot of time with the Diamond, but I’m not sure she’s having much fun with him.”
Monson grinned inwardly.
“Yeah, I heard they were together. Actually, the last time I talked to Cyann she was getting ready to go out with him. And because I was talking to her, I ended up being late for my date with Taris. She’s still pissed about it.”