by Scott Tracey
It seemed to be enough. I stayed quiet while they gossiped about the new school year. Who had done interesting things over the summer, which teachers were already in hyperactive detention mode, and where the parties were going to be.
“I’m already looking forward to the Halloween party Tanner’s throwing. Remind me again why you’re not having one, Jade?” Laney said while ripping apart the muffin in front of her. There was something wrong with the top layer of the muffin though, because that half got discarded while she picked at the rest.
“I’m so over parties this year,” Jade said. “Everyone expects something bigger and better than last year. I’ve got enough on my plate.”
“We’ve got homecoming coming up too,” Laney replied, while the jock chimed in with, “Maybe that’s one game we’ll win this season.”
Everyone seemed to laugh at that. As I found out, the football team was one of the few that hadn’t seemed to flourish since the school had gained a benefactor in Jason Thorpe. Jade rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, quickly and deftly slipping a change of topic in front of them like some sort of sleight-of-hand magician’s trick.
“Braden still has to tell us what he thinks of our fantastic school,” she announced with a sly smile. “And don’t forget compliments. Everyone likes them. And by everyone, I mean me.”
Way to put me on the spot, Jade. “Well, my new friend Jade is pretty awesome. And has a great eye for fashion.” Uhm. I wasn’t sure what else to say, aside from compliments for Jade. “School’s okay, I guess. It’s my first, so I’m not really sure what to compare it to.”
Laney snorted. “You’ve never been to a real school before? So you’re one of those homeschooled religious freaks?”
Before I could say anything, Jade stepped in. “Actually? If you weren’t trying so hard to come across as the stereotypical bitchy cheerleader, Lane, maybe you’d notice a few things.” Jade’s eyes narrowed conspiratorially, and she leaned forward. “New boy’s got his own Black card.”
I wasn’t completely out of the loop. I knew what a Black card was, and I definitely didn’t have one of those. But Jade met my confusion with a slow wink and a hint of a smile.
Laney sat back, opened her mouth once, and then immediately closed it.
Brooke stepped in to save the day. “So Braden, how about that physics homework?”
¤ ¤ ¤
The next morning went by like a blur. I thought I aced the English quiz, after Jade had explained what was really going on with all the stream of consciousness we’d had to read the night before.
The next two classes were simple enough. But as I was walking outside of the history classroom, I glanced at a mirror that was framed against the wall—just to make sure my hair wasn’t doing anything to antagonize me randomly. It did that sometimes.
The hair was fine, and I was starting to look more well rested since coming to Belle Dam. At least some of the tension wasn’t showing on my face. Just as I was about to step away, though, I saw the shadow out of the corner of my eye. I stopped immediately, instantly jostled by a pair of girls behind me who hadn’t expected a sudden obstacle to their escape.
I focused my sight out of the corner of my eye. The moment I did, the colors sharpened intensely, but not nearly as bad as when my eyes were uncovered. In the reflection, there was nothing. No shadow, just a white-faced teenager with a nearly comical look of shock across his face.
I hurried out of the room and headed down the halls. I’d seen it twice in under a week. It wasn’t magic, so what was it? I’d seen countless different symbols and images in the visions, and usually knew right away what they meant. Not this. It didn’t make any sense.
At the end of the hall was a classroom with the lights off. Riley had explained yesterday that the school was bigger than the students it housed. There were numerous rooms that never got used because there was really no need. I just hoped this was one of those rooms.
The minute the door was shut, my mind was already opening to all the ways to handle this.
I walked with a purpose toward the blackboard, pulling two long sticks of chalk off the tray and studying the desks as I headed for the back of the room. No good—the wood was covered in some sort of enamel. Any magic I wove through the desk would dissipate right through the chemicals. Magic liked nature. They were symbiotic. Finally, near the back, I found an older desk where the wood was polished but untreated. Perfect.
I focused on the door, narrowing my eyes. I pictured the lines of magic weaving across the door, intangible but full of blue and gold energy. I don’t need to be in here after all, the magic said. Over and over again, I rewove the spell, centering it on the doorknob. The more focus I put into it, the stronger the spell. “Hide me from those who seek entrance,” I murmured, the words focusing the magic into a final snap that seemed to hang in the air.
The shadow tugged at my memory, an image of grainlike darkness, like black sand or obsidian shavings. Images were fairly common—a spectral butterfly that hung invisible in the air might whisper of the old altars that had once covered that ground, or a ghost might mutter about how tragically he had died. There was always something to be learned. But the shadow kept its secrets well.
I reached up, grasping my fingers around the cool plastic of the sunglasses. I could do this. It would be okay. The glasses slid free, revealing the world as it truly was.
Reams of rose petals fluttered in the air, shades of how can he not see that I’m alive evergreen spotted with disease I love my job but they think they know everything so horrid little sexed up harlots smile and console don’t let them see the scarlet flames that still lingered in the air, a smoke that contained lines of magical fire.
With my eyes free I felt only a moment of unburdened relief, but everything rushed forward, a thousand voices trying to claw themselves back into life. Any place well used was always more jagged and harsh than someplace remote.
“Someone used magic in here, a long time ago,” I whispered to myself. The traces were faint—whoever it was had had an incredible control. It couldn’t have been a student. Even I could only manage a fraction of that skill. They hadn’t wasted an ounce more power then they’d needed to.
That wasn’t the point of being here, though. I had to focus on the shadow. The chalk clattered to the ground under my outstretched hand, and I pressed down on it, forcing it to snap.
I couldn’t quite pull off an illusion as complicated as the one Jason had performed, but I could improvise. Between the chalk and the desktop, I had enough to bind the magic I was planning to call forth. The chalk to turn thought into vision, and the wood of the desk to make it solid, to bring it into focus.
“Forces of the earth,” I whispered, “awaken and come forth.” I used the words to draw the magic to me, shaping it through the elements I planned to use. The most common place to draw power for the stronger spells was from the earth. There was a wellspring there that any witch could tap into. If they just asked nicely.
I channeled the magic into the pieces of chalk, which began to dissolve in front of me. From there, I pushed it upward, weaving it through the wood desk. As the chalk swirled through the flows of the spell, they began to sparkle, turning to tiny shards of color that began to coalesce. Light grew until my memory of the elevator in Lucien’s office was right there on display in front of me, an illusion drawn straight from my mind.
Using my hands, I manipulated the memory brought to life. I pushed to the left, and the image shifted further that way. Pulled my hands closer, and it focused on a smaller section of the shadow.
The image was roughly the quality of a projected screen, though it hung in midair. A dark spot, more defined than I’d realized before. It was roughly oval shaped, turned on its side. Almost like an eye.
Sixteen
“All this melodrama, and me without my camera,” Luci
en said.
I’d waited until the school day was over, hesitant to skip and cause any more waves. None of my teachers even seemed impressed that I turned in the homework along with everyone else.
Candy wasn’t at her desk when I walked off the elevator. I hadn’t known where else to go—it wasn’t like Jason had given me a Bat-signal to get in touch with him or anything.
Lucien gestured to one of the chairs across from him. “Have a seat. And give me a little more context on what you’re talking about.”
“I think Catherine’s spying on me,” I said, repeating the same thing I’d said the moment I walked through his door.
My father’s lawyer sat on the corner of his desk and feigned interest. “And why come to me with this fascinating little tidbit? I can’t exactly file a cease and desist on the megalomaniacal super-witch based on a hunch, now can I?”
I ignored his sarcasm. “I’ve been seeing this … thing. This shadow.”
“Now you’re seeing things,” he sighed. “How fortuitous.”
“Mind if you hold the sarcasm until I’m done?” I wasn’t exactly snapping at him, but I tried to be a little more forceful. “I’ve seen it at least twice now. Once, the first time I was here, in the elevator on my way up. And then again in school today.”
Lucien went still. “Fascinating,” he said under his breath. “Simply fascinating.”
“So I need to know anything else you know about Grace Lansing. About the witch eyes.”
It had made perfect sense to me a couple of hours ago. If Catherine was spying on me, then the only way I’d be able to really see where and when was if I could find a way to control my powers. And since Lucien was the one who’d told me about Grace, he was the only source I knew.
“‘Witch eyes’?” Lucien pulled himself up off the desk and sauntered back around his desk. “I love the name. It has a bit of poetry, don’t you think?”
“Then what would you call them?”
He looked surprised, and I watched him choose his words carefully. “The stories never said Grace had a name for them. She called it her Sight. But if I had to make a guess it would be that history is filled with all sorts of ‘special’ eyes. The Eye of Horus. The Eye of Providence. Maybe all those stories share a common origin.”
“So you think it’s happened before?”
“I’ve seen your father do any number of impossible things,” he said. “And didn’t you recently survive contact with a speeding vehicle?” He shook his head, making a cluck-cluck sound with his tongue. “Who knows the breadth of powers and abilities born into this ignorant world?”
If there have been others, someone had to figure out a way to control them. “There has to be a record somewhere about her, doesn’t there? I couldn’t find anything in the library.”
“I doubt you would.” The lawyer’s lips twisted. “I’m afraid that woman took her secrets to the grave. Which, unless you have some skill in raising the dead, makes her a little difficult to contact.”
Summoning the dead. Uncle John had always said the dead shouldn’t be disturbed, but he slipped up once and mentioned a time when he’d tried—and failed—to summon a spirit. It required an incredible talent.
I could do it, I bet. I could ask Grace how to control the visions. “How’d she die? I’m surprised there’s not some big story about that, too. Belle Dam’s got stories for everything else, right?” I laughed it off, but my mind was already whirling—figuring out just how I’d manage to cut a hole into the world of the dead.
“No one knows for certain,” Lucien murmured. “But they built her a quaint little monument down at Angel’s Respite Cemetery. It can’t be missed.” If he knew what I was planning, he didn’t let it show. Then again, there wasn’t much that Lucien did show. The man had a poker face like none other.
I wasn’t sure what I should do next. But maybe Grace could give me some ideas.
“Mr. Fallon,” Candy simpered as she strode into the office, stopping abruptly when she saw me. “What are you doing here?” she asked, in this perfectly bitchy, contemptuous tone. “What is he doing here? He doesn’t have an appointment.” This was some sort of violation in her strange little world.
“Are we done, Braden?” Lucien glanced down at his watch. “I believe I’ve told you all about how important my schedule is.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. “Just be sure to water your skank,” I said as I passed him. “She’s looking a little shallow.” It was a completely inappropriate thing to say, but I walked out of his office with a smile.
¤ ¤ ¤
I forced myself to finish my homework before considering plans to raise the dead.
It’s not like I’m nervous, I thought a few hours later, staring up at the ceiling. Just that this was a few steps beyond the normal kinds of spells I knew. It required a proper amount of thought and deliberation.
Which was how I found myself wandering the streets of Belle Dam in search of distractions when Trey called. It shouldn’t have surprised me the way he invited himself along, and then decided we were going to a pizza parlor for dinner. Mostly because the minute I got on the phone with him, I forgot I had a brain of my own.
Half an hour later we were a few blocks from downtown, in a tiny little Mom and Pop store that was sparsely lit and uncomfortably warm when we walked in.
“It’s good stuff, I promise,” Trey said. “Not quite the best in town, but it’s definitely a close second.”
The waiter led us to one of the tables against the window, giving us a view of the street. “So where’s the best?” I asked a few minutes later. When the waiter came back we ordered, compromising on half pepperoni and half extra cheese.
“Closed down a few months ago,” Trey said as he turned to focus his attention out the window. I watched a muscle in his jaw start to flex. “The owners had to leave town.”
I didn’t press the issue. I may have been dying to know more, but two things were clear. The topic was upsetting Trey, and it definitely had something to do with the feud.
Small talk was attempted, but Trey’s head had gone somewhere else. I tried to apologize for whatever it was that I’d said, but it didn’t register. After that, the conversation grew more and more stilted.
Our food arrived ridiculously fast. It was like some sort of angel glanced down and realized that our table had been overinflated with Awkward Conversation. Pizza proved to be the perfect remedy.
“Quit hogging the pepperoni,” Trey chided, reaching over to snag the pizza slice I’d just grabbed and pulling it back to his side of the table. He replaced it a minute later with a piece from the other half of the pizza, only cheese. Extra cheese.
“Hey, I was the one who wanted it,” I protested, debating whether or not to fight him for the slice. I decided not to. “You’re the weirdo who wanted only cheese.”
“Yeah, well I figured you wouldn’t have gone for the jalapenos or black olives.”
I shrugged. “Maybe those are my favorites,” I said lightly.
“Yeah, right,” he smirked, letting the cheese from one slice dangle between his lips. Like he was taunting me. “So tell me about school.”
Did I get signed up for the Big Brother program the minute I walked into town or something? Besides, I definitely didn’t want Trey to be my big brother. “It’s okay. Harder than I thought it’d be. The work’s not so bad, but there’s a lot.”
“Any friends yet?” What was with the sudden interrogation?
“A … a few.” I needed to stop focusing on the way cheese slid around the curve of his lips, or the way his eyes twinkled when he thought he was being cute. Not to mention the way veins sprang to life in his hands when he moved too suddenly, straining against the skin. Strong hands.
“Braden?”
“Huh? What? S
orry?” I could have smacked myself in the face. My brain had reacted all at once, throwing anything out there that might be an acceptable answer.
It was wickedly hot in the pizza place, but Trey’s all-too-aware expression didn’t show an ounce of it. Did they not believe in air conditioning or something? I put my pizza back down, grabbing one of the napkins and scrubbing furiously at all the grease staining my fingertips.
“I said it must be pretty hard. New school, and trying to make friends.” Trey’s face went puzzled for a second before he pulled his cell phone out of a pocket, and I heard it buzzing. “Sorry, thought it was off.”
He flipped the phone open, after giving the screen a glance. “Hey. Yeah, no I can talk. I’m not doing anything.” I sat back, feeling the words like a slap. I watched as his eyes narrowed and he pushed his plate away. “How long ago,” he demanded suddenly.
I thought he was talking to me for a second, and I froze. Did he know something? “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just try to keep an eye out, okay?”
He snapped the phone shut and started to scoot out of the booth. “Sorry, something came up. You’ll be all right?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, just pulled out his wallet and threw bills down onto the table. I don’t think he even looked at them when he did it.
“Uhm, what?”
“Just … something I have to take care of. You’re going to be alright, right?” Trey paused all of a sudden. “You remember that guy Drew, right? You haven’t seen him lurking around town or anything, have you?”
“I thought you two were friends,” I said automatically, although I knew there was more to the story than that.
“We went to school together,” Trey said, as if that was the same thing.
“So, you’re not friends,” I pushed.
“Look, I don’t have time for all this,” Trey said, getting sharp. “Have you seen him or not?”
I crossed my arms, and for the thousandth time tried to figure out who Trey was. “Not,” I said coolly.