by K. C. Neal
Ang and I were silent on the way back to my house. I’d tried all day to think of ways to approach Sophie at school, but, considering the animosity between us, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to just walk up to her and start pushing pyxis influences into her mind. Especially if a bunch of other kids milled around and watched. If we had an audience, she’d surely try to make me look like an idiot. And with my nerves added to the mix, I didn’t trust that I’d be able to hit the right level of influence fast enough. Or maybe at all, if I gave her the chance to rattle me.
Ang and I sprawled on my bed, my phone on the coverlet between us. I took a deep breath. It was time. I picked up my phone and dialed.
“Hello?” There was mild suspicion but not outright hatred in Sophie’s voice, so she must not have known it was me. I imagined a pouty expression on her heart-shaped face framed by side-swept auburn bangs, and I took another deep breath.
“Sophie, this is Corinne.” I made my voice as authoritative as I could. “I have something really important to tell you, and I need to say it in person.”
“Um, okay.” Her tone implied she thought I was mental, but I ignored it.
“Are you at home? I could come over now,” I said.
Sophie sighed, and I imagined her flipping a wave of hair over her shoulder with an impatient flick of her wrist. “Yeah, fine. I’ll only be here for another hour, so come soon.”
“I’m leaving the house now,” I said.
“Well, at least the first step is out of the way.” Ang squeezed my arm and gave me an encouraging little smile.
All the way to Sophie’s house, I drummed my fingers against the armrest. When Ang pulled up to the tiny house where Sophie lived with her aunt, I sat in the car for a moment, remembering the last time I’d been here. Fifth grade, not long after Sophie had moved into this house. It wasn’t my idea. My mom thought I should try to hang out with Sophie, even though I’d tried to convince her that something had changed and I was pretty sure Sophie didn’t want me to come over. I barely got the car door open before Sophie flew out of the house. She stood in the small patch of front lawn, yelling at us. She actually swore at us, her face turning red and her chest heaving. Mom told me to close the door, and she started the car and pulled away. I expected her to be shocked or at least a little offended by Sophie’s language, but she just looked sad. That was the last time she tried to force me to do anything with Sophie.
“Corinne?” Ang touched my arm.
I nodded and began to gather a vortex of green influence in my mind.
“Okay, let’s go.” I opened the car door.
Ang followed me up the walkway to the front door and stood behind me while I rang the bell. When Sophie swung the door open and gave us a suspicious glare, I didn’t even wait for her to open the torn screen door. I mentally pushed a fat blob of influence at her.
“I need you to come with me to my Aunt Dorothy’s house tomorrow,” I said.
“Okay.” Sophie’s eyes softened, her voice bland.
I let out a breath. “Tomorrow at ten in the morning, go to Main and Wild Rose. Ang and I will come and pick you up. We’ll be there for four hours, so don’t make other plans.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you at Main and Wild Rose.”
I’d never admit it aloud, but bossing Sophie around sent a ping of pleasure zipping through me. The dull tone of her voice was downright creepy, but at least I knew the influence was working.
“Right. See you tomorrow. Bye.” I turned to leave, and I gathered the essence of the white pyxis liquid before pushing it to Sophie, careful to not completely cleanse the green influence. She needed to appear normal, but remain under the influence of my suggestion. I glanced over my shoulder when I got to the car. Sophie shook her head and blinked a couple of times, and watched us through the screen door.
“Wow,” Ang said once we were back in the car. “Awesome job.”
She drove us back to my house, and some of the tension eased from my shoulders, but my heart was still tapping away in my chest.
Back in my room, we both sagged onto my bed as if we’d run a marathon together.
“I’m just glad it worked,” I said.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Ang avoided my gaze and combed her fingers through the fringe of the blanket she’d spread over her lap.
“Kinda. Sophie is just such a wild card. What if I can’t convince her? What if she storms out?” The familiar knot in my gut seemed to expand against my diaphragm.
“Well, you got her to agree to meet us. I think that’s a good sign you’ll be able to do whatever you need to do tomorrow.”
We sat in silence for a few moments, me staring up at the ceiling and Ang still picking at the blanket fringe.
“I’m glad you and Mason will be there, at least,” I said. “Do you think you’re going to be okay?”
She scrunched her mouth to one side. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.”
“I’m proud of you for being so brave.” I let out a slow breath. “How ‘bout we do something mindless now?”
Angeline gave me a tiny smile and nodded. We rose and she followed me upstairs to make hot chocolate. I found a silly comedy Brad loved and plugged it into the DVD player, and we settled onto the sofa.
Ang kept staring at the floor, not really paying attention to the movie. I didn’t blame her.
* * *
Sometime later, a cool breeze slid across my face, and I heard small waves rolling against the beach. The cove.
Mason? I probed for his presence. For the first time since we’d linked, I didn’t hear the familiar background noise of his thoughts. My heart lurched in my chest, and I drew a sharp breath. Mason! Where are you?
“He can’t help you.” A voice slithered through the night like a snake across sandpaper, and I whirled around, searching for its source.
Not far from the dark fire pit loomed a shadowed figure. Panic tightened around my chest and my mind itched with the absence of Mason’s thoughts.
“Who are you?”
A laugh like a metal rake on cement sent a shudder through me. “Oh, come now. You know me.”
Two faint green dots glowed dull in the figure’s face.
“Harriet,” I whispered. My awareness dulled as her influence invaded my mind. I sank to the sand, my fingers digging into the cool grains. No responsibility; no fear. All that mattered was whatever Harriet asked of me.
And it was a relief.
|| 7 ||
TIME STRETCHED OUT, and radio static-type noise filled my ears. I slumped on the beach as my will continued to dissolve under Harriet’s influence. It was . . . pleasant.
Then, an unfamiliar presence pierced my mind, and gentle hands pulled me up to a seated position. When did I lie down? Disoriented, I dug my fingers into the sand.
“. . . can’t do it for you. Come on, girl, stay with me,” a muffled, unfamiliar voice was saying. A male voice. “What’s your name?”
I tried to focus on the question, but visceral longing for a directive from Harriet—any request, large or small—washed over me in a nauseating wave. Then the unfamiliar voice invaded my head, and my breath went ragged with panic.
Fight it, said the same voice I’d just heard aloud. Focus on the white.
An image of a bottle of white liquid, similar to the one in my pyxis, but taller and skinnier, appeared in my mind’s eye.
Imagine it tipping over and washing through you, the voice instructed. There was something strange about the way he spoke.
But I just want her to—
No, don’t think about her. Only the bottle.
I don’t want the bottle. Leave me alone! She’ll tell me what to do. I slumped and then lay down on my side.
A wall slammed through my mind, blocking the image of Harriet, though not the sensation of her influence over me. I winced and squeezed a handful of sand in my fist.
Focus! Your union needs you! Who is your Shield? What’s his name?
/> Mason. As I spoke, I formed the mental image I associated with him: a Ponderosa pine.
Good. Well, he needs you to focus on this white bottle. You don’t want to let him down, do you?
Was that an Australian accent? Confusion and irritation prickled through me. Why couldn’t this jerk just mind his own business? And what was an Aussie guy doing here at the cove? I gripped the handful of sand tighter, trying to compact the grains into a ball.
The bottle. He pushed the image of the glass bottle more insistently into my mind’s eye. Mason needs you to tip it over.
“Leave Mason out of this,” I tried to say. It came out such a mumbled mess, I wasn’t sure if the guy understood me. My lips refused to function. I tried again, speaking slowly. “Go . . . a . . . way!”
The guy grasped my forearms and shook me a little. I squeezed my eyes shut. Where was Harriet? I needed her. Warm hands palmed my cheeks, forcing my face forward. I squeezed my eyelids harder.
Open your eyes NOW, Pyxis, his voice thundered through my head. Push that bottle over, or I will dump you in the lake and hold you under ‘til you suck water!
I turned my focus to his white bottle. With a tremendous effort, I gave it a nudge. It teetered, seemed to pause for a split second, and then fell over. The white liquid glugged out and puddled beneath the bottle, and something inside me began to loosen.
“Ah, it’s working,” the guy said.
I finally looked up, and piercing blue eyes met mine. How could I make out the color of his eyes in the darkness of the night? I stared at his face. His skin. It glowed a soft white, making him a luminous ghost.
He was lit up like a human firefly. He’d been inside my mind.
“You’re a Shield,” I breathed.
“Look at you, such a sharp one.” He cracked a smile, flashing a row of perfect, square, bright-white teeth. He held out his hand. “Up you go.”
My heart skittered when I remembered how I’d gotten here. I looked around wildly. “Where’s Harriet?”
“She didn’t want to stay and fight,” he answered.
I gripped his hand, uncomfortably warm to the touch, and let him pull me to my feet. I half turned to peer through the dark, my heart still in my throat. “Are you sure?”
He dropped my hand as soon as I stood steady.
“No worries. She’s gone,” he said. No worries? She’d nearly turned me into her zombie servant. That seemed more than enough cause for some worry. I took a breath, trying to slow the uncomfortable pounding in my chest.
I squinted up at him and his eyes roamed my face, seeming to drink in my features. “Are you, um, real?” I asked.
He grinned wider. “Real as you are. Why don’t you tell me your name, Pyxis?”
I stared at him a moment. This guy was a Shield. There was another Shield besides Mason. “Corinne. Um, Corinne Finley.”
He threw back his head with a short laugh. “Beauty! Can’t wait to tell the others I finally ran into you. I’m Zane.”
He offered his hand for a formal shake, and I grasped it with weak fingers. I peered curiously into his face. His straight, nearly black hair was just long enough to be pushed behind his ears. A large-ish nose dominated his face, but it gave him a mature, even handsome look, rather than making his features appear unbalanced. A silver bar pierced his eyebrow. His sharp blue eyes remained trained on me, his gaze unblinking and direct.
“Glad to finally meet you, Corinne Finley,” he said so low, it was nearly a whisper. I looked away from the intensity of his stare.
“I don’t understand,” I stammered, looking down at my feet. “If you’re a Shield, that means. . . .”
“Yes, another pyramidal union. We’re at the Perth convergence.”
“Perth?”
“Western Australia.”
“So you have a Pyxis, and—”
“Right, two Guardians.”
I was a dizzy rush of emotions I couldn’t begin to identify. Another pyramidal union? Another Pyxis? Something like wonder bloomed in the center of my chest and spread through me in a warm wave. I wasn’t the only one. “What are you doing here? How did you know about the Tapestry Lake convergence?”
“I was looking for you, of course.”
“But why?”
Zane arched a pierced eyebrow at me. “Seems you need some help, Corinne Finley. Good thing I came along when I did. Dinkum Pyxis had you in a spot of trouble.”
I gave him a blank look.
“The false Pyxis. That woman who had you in the grip of the influence.”
The memory of Harriet, of falling under the spell of the green influence, and of sinking away from my own mind, losing my grasp on everything that made me who I was rushed back, and light-headedness swept over me for a moment. I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to steady my thoughts.
“I’m afraid to ask. . . . What’s a false Pyxis?”
“Right like it sounds. This is the first one I’ve ever encountered, though. The Pyxis talents manifest in the falsie right alongside the true Pyxis. Weaker than the true Pyxis, but still dangerous.”
I shoved my fingers through my hair and then let my hands drop to my sides. I looked up at Zane. His eyes were the color of pale blue polar ice. They were mesmerizing. “So what’s the cure for a . . . a false Pyxis?”
“That I don’t know. I managed to startle her enough that she popped right out of the dream world. But she wasn’t expecting me.” He gave me a sharp look. “You must not let her influence the rest of your pyramidal union. She’ll try to take it over, or so the lore goes.”
I groaned, and my stomach wadded itself into a worry ball. As if I needed one more thing to deal with. “Great,” I muttered. “Well, thanks for, um, saving me.”
“My pleasure. Now that I’ve found you, there’s some—”
Corinne! Mason’s alarmed voice tore through my head. I slapped my hands over my ears and winced my eyes shut. When I opened them, Mason’s face loomed inches from mine, his hands squeezing my shoulders, his fingers digging into my shoulder blades.
“What? Stop that, you’re hurting me,” I said, squirming out of his grip. I looked around groggily and recognized the TV room. Ang sat wide-eyed at the other end of the sofa, staring at us.
Mason blew out a relieved breath, then gave me a look of such deep concern my heart melted into a puddle of warm goo in the center of my chest. “For a second there, I wasn’t sure if you were coming back. It was like I’d lost my link with you for a few minutes.”
Zane’s blue eyes. His warm hand steadying me.
“I met another Shield in the dream world. We’re not the only pyramidal union.” I looked at Ang, then back at Mason. I dropped my gaze to the floor, my stomach tightening.
“Are you sure you weren’t just having a regular dream, Corinne?” Ang asked. Worry lined her face. I couldn’t blame her. I sounded more than a little crazy.
Understanding lit Mason’s eyes. “No, I think it was real,” he said. “That’s probably why I lost my link with you. The other Shield must have caused some kind of interference or something.” His face clouded.
“You scared the daylights out of me,” Ang said, her voice shaky. “I tried to wake you up when my alarm went off, and it was like you were in a trance.”
Then all at once, I remembered what day it was.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes ‘til nine. “We have to meet Sophie soon.” I turned to Mason. “You can wait while we get ready, if you want, and then come with us. We can take Ang’s mom’s car.”
While Ang was in the shower, Mason and I made sourdough toast with huckleberry preserves. Then, the three of us shoveled in the toast and downed some orange juice before trooping out to Ang’s mom’s Volvo.
Would this work with Sophie? What did it mean that there was another pyramidal union, and in Australia of all places? What was Zane about to say when Mason snapped me out of my dream? Most unnerving of all, what was I supposed to do about a false Pyxis?
I
scanned the empty sidewalks, half expecting Harriet Jensen to fly at us. A residue of her influence still coated my mind like a scummy film. Ick. I wished I could open the top of my cranium and douse my brain with stain remover. I heard Zane’s lilting accent, warning me that she’d go after my friends. Just how vulnerable were Ang and Mason? And how could I protect them?
Ang turned onto Wild Rose, and up ahead, I saw Sophie standing near the signpost where Mason kissed me last winter. The memory tugged at me, trying to beckon me away from the present and back to a time when I could lose myself in Mason’s hazel eyes. When life was so much simpler. But I couldn’t afford self-indulgence. Now, a flier for the Summer Solstice Carnival adorned the post. We had less than six weeks. I formed a faint swirl of green in my mind and pushed it at Sophie. I rolled down my window and watched as the question in her eyes melted away to a look of benign attention.
I was so accustomed to Sophie’s disdain, or outright hostility. I’d expected this vacant, docile Sophie would be easier to deal with. But somehow she wasn’t. Anger and hurt flashed through me. What had I done to deserve her hatred? For a moment I wished she were her lucid self so I could demand an answer. My insides still twisted up in the same familiar way. I forced a neutral expression and gave her a level stare.
“Morning, Sophie,” I said and poked my thumb over my shoulder at the backseat. “Get in.”
|| 8 ||
SOPHIE, ANGELINE, MASON, AND I followed Aunt Dorothy into the living room, where Mr. Sykes sat in one of the two club chairs near the fireplace.
A surprised smile animated Mason’s face. “Mr. Sykes, hi. What are you doing here?”
We looked back and forth between Aunt Dorothy and Mr. Sykes.
“Harold is here to help you, my dear,” she said to Mason. “The two of you are going to have a chat while I stay here with the girls.”
“Oh. Okay.” Mason glanced at me uncertainly, but he followed Mr. Sykes as the old guy hobbled with his cane out the front door.
Aunt Dorothy lowered herself onto the other club chair and indicated we should sit. She gave Sophie an appraising look. “Sophie is still under your influence, I see. You did well, my dear. Now, I will need you to continue holding her while I explain why they’re here. You will need to attenuate the green if you sense her resisting, and add a bit of orange to keep her mind open. You also may need to toss in a splash of the yellow, if you feel her slipping away from you.”