“I guess that’s the smart thing to do. Before they were known for being cursed, they were known for being manipulative. I’m not sure which is worse. They wouldn’t want to scare you away, but you have a right to know who the Bonds really are.”
Alex crouched down next to her. “What do you mean by cursed?”
“Once, the Bond family was well regarded around here, but they pissed off the wrong gifted coven and now they’re doomed to remain at the bottom of the food chain.”
“What did they do?”
“Who knows? It must have been something pretty bad, though.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I’m a Gossamer. My family has been around for a while.” She grinned. “And we’re pretty good at getting what we want. Information included.”
“Right.” Alex murmured. “So people are afraid to be around them because the curse might spread? Are you afraid to be around them?”
“Yes and no. I understand why they do the things they do. I don’t think they’re bad people.”
“But you hang out with the Darwins,” Alex argued.
“I can’t change the fact that I’m a legacy. Not to mention the Darwins also have justification for their behaviors. Half of their family died in the Witch Wars compliments of the Bond family.” Skye shifted her legs when several spirits trumped by, sliding their hands along the wall and leaving trails of blood. More spirits followed, ripping dry wall, chipping paint, and depositing tattered objects along the hallway floor. Even though Skye was blatantly in the way, they smiled at her. One even thanked her for no reason, and she chuckled. “Anyway, I’d be careful if I were you. The Bonds will do anything to get ahead. They’ve been that way for a long time now. They’re like quicksand, and they’ll pull you down fast.”
A whistle sounded, indicating that they should report to their stations. Alex hadn’t even noticed that the air outside had dimmed in the approaching dusk. The first guests would be arriving soon.
“This is exciting!” Skye exclaimed. Evidently the previous conversation was over. Any trace of seriousness vanished from her face as she pointed to the sky. “The clouds are moving in circles tonight, and that means everything will go routinely.”
Alex didn’t know what it was about Skye that made her believe she was right. She picked up her bucket and followed the strange girl into the utility shed. Alex shoved the leftover webs under a counter, disturbing a thick layer of dust, which puffed into the air like flour in a bakery. “This place is filthy.”
“The dust is there on purpose. It helps the bodied to see us.”
“Oh.” Alex lifted her hand to examine the dust that stuck to it. “They wouldn’t be able to see us without it?”
“They could because we want them to, and technically they are searching for us without knowing it. The dust is there just in case. It’s another one of Duvall’s concoctions. Make sure you don’t have any of that dust on you now, though, since you’re supposed to be invisible. Here, wipe it on me, since I have to chase them.” Skye lifted a chainsaw from the workbench.
“If I were bodied, I probably would have run away from this place, screaming.”
“Oh, that’s the point though.”
“I know. I just mean—”
“But each guest does have to sign a waiver. Don’t worry,” Skye said, smiling at Alex’s alarm. She held up her chainsaw. “The blade is gone. It’s the people with certain medical conditions who are advised not to enter.”
This precaution seemed a little extreme to Alex, but once she saw the reactions of the guests, she understood. When the guests stepped out from the back door of the manor, their faces were completely drained of color, even before the chainsaws or daggers were raised. Some even came out sobbing.
At a quarter to one, Alex stretched wearily. The hordes of terrified visitors had slowed. Skye said this was good because the clouds were no longer moving, whatever that was supposed to mean. Alex yearned to go home and sleep so she could see and hear Chase again.
“The next wave is coming out,” Skye warned, gesturing with a machete and yawning. She looked like Rambo Barbie. Reuben had direly wanted the chainsaw, so she’d swapped with him hours ago.
The door creaked open, and four more guests exited. “Oh, thank God,” a boy said.
A girl heaved before bending down to comfort a whimpering friend. “It’s over!”
Alex heard Skye cluck her tongue in sympathy before she concealed her beautiful face with a morbid mask and stepped out of the shadows, lifting the knife to her own throat and pretending to slash her neck. The group of guests backed up slowly and collided with Reuben, who revved the engine of his chainsaw. For the hundredth time that night, the grounds were filtered with ear-splitting screams. But this group didn’t follow the unscripted plan. Three of the kids bolted straight ahead, exactly where they were supposed to go, but the whimpering girl veered to the left and disappeared into the trees.
No, no, no, Alex thought. There was no one else left to go after the girl. She hesitated, willing Jonas, someone, to appear so she wouldn’t have to go alone. But she had no choice.
The girl was fast. Alex kept pace easily, perhaps because she no longer needed to breathe. She just needed to concentrate on following the girl. When they scampered past the butterfly tree, Alex realized how far they’d gone. Fabulous, now they were both going to get lost.
It wasn’t until they reached a clearing and the moon provided some light that the girl finally stopped and keeled over with her hands on her knees, gasping violently. Alex was so irritated she considered smacking the girl. She strained to listen for any sounds to indicate how they might find their way back to the mansion. The droning of the chainsaw erupted far off in the distance, and despite the girl’s heavy breathing, Alex heard a series of raspy whispers, each overlapping the last. She shook the voice box in her hand, wondering if it was somehow having an effect on her. The Voix stone rattled inside the cube, but the whispers neither shook nor ceased. She thought about what Van Hanlin had taught her in Intro about searching to find the visibility of sound, and then the trajectory would lead to the source. She studied the night air, and from the center of the field sparks of calligraphic letters escaped into the night, dissolving and quieting once the world broke them apart. She slowly crept close enough to find a black chest the size of a shoebox nestled in the overgrown grass.
This had to be a joke.
She waited, thinking someone might jump out and claim the babbling box, but her senses could only catch the chattering teeth of the runaway girl. In the distance she heard a faint buzz of energy, like the humming of electricity. Across the field, the runaway raked trembling fingers through her disheveled hair.
What’s the matter? The voice was comforting, like the familiar beats of her favorite song.
“Chase?” she called out before remembering he wasn’t there. This was not a dream. Chase, she thought in her head.
Alex. Are you okay?
She wasn’t dreaming—at least she didn’t think she was, so how could she hear him?
The buzzing returned. This time, it was no more than a few yards away. Whatever it was, it was fast. Her intuition slapped her with fear.
Jonas appeared so quickly that Alex was in his arms before she even realized he was there. He cradled her tightly like someone, or something, was about to rip her from his grasp.
“How—”
He breathed panic into her ear. “Don’t make a sound.”
Someone emerged from the dark protection of the woods and floated noiselessly into the clearing. When the moonlight illuminated his features, Alex swallowed the terror that clawed its way up her throat.
“Don’t scream,” Jonas commanded, tightening his grip.
In the glow of the moon, the carcass of the man seemed faded like an old photo. His pasty hair hung lifelessly, stringy and wet, draped over his face. He came to a stop directly behind the lost girl. She shivered, sensing the danger she couldn’t see.
He slowly moved around the girl, watching her with sunken eyes. Then, he turned abruptly to focus on Alex and Jonas. Both pupil and iris were coal-black, and framed by webs of crimson mazes spiraling demonically. For the first time since she’d died, Alex wished for her human eyes, which could not have seen this man. Could she even call him a spirit?
Jonas clutched his fingers around Alex’s chin, pulling her face to his. His eyes locked into hers. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. Are you listening?”
She nodded. She wouldn’t dare open her mouth to allow the scream to escape.
“When I say the word, you run. As fast as you can,” he ordered. “Don’t stop.”
The “you” stung Alex, setting her voice free. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to distract him.”
There came a loud zap. Alex snapped her attention back to the man. His body shook violently, traveling towards them, convulsing in its electrocution, his stringy hair whiplashing his face.
Jonas flung Alex behind him and began to run forward.
“No!” Alex thrust out her arms and shoved the air in opposite directions, separating Jonas from that monster. The force of it pushed into the ground and rose, curling into two waves, knocking Jonas to one edge of the clearing and the demon to the other.
She swatted away the dirt kicking up in her face, in time to see the heap of a man straighten. He rushed forward, writhing, opening his lips, baring his gray teeth. From his mouth spewed a bloodcurdling screech.
The shrillness of the wail sent shocks through Alex’s head. She fell to her knees and couldn’t stop herself from screaming out in agony.
Alex! Chase resounded in her mind.
The word dulled the screech only slightly before the pain sliced her head again. The scream was alive, tearing into her scalp, scooping out pieces of her mind, and stabbing her soul. She was going to die here, she realized. Without Chase. But the pain was so intense, she didn’t care. She just wanted it to end.
Alex? Chase’s words were strained now. Where did you go? Alex!
She gasped. With each word, the scream became more hollow and distant. She needed to form a word in her thoughts, but it seemed impossible. How could she think? How could she talk? She couldn’t remember how.
Alex, don’t listen to it. Talk to me. How was his voice so strong? He was always so much stronger than she was. SPEAK! he commanded, but she couldn’t think through the mind-numbing pain. Then she thought of the one word she could say even if she did lose her mind. The most beautiful word in the world.
Chase.
He was urgent now. Talk to me.
She tried, but she had no words, no thoughts.
Come on, Alex.
Chase. It was all she could say, and it wasn’t enough. She could feel the whipping threads of the demon’s hair, and smell the stench of his breath as he wrapped his body around her.
Her mind snapped shut.
It was like a blackout, except everything turned gray. Alex blinked her eyes several times, but a sheet of ice blocked her vision. It surrounded her, constricting her movements, forcing her to keep her palms pressed against the glacial coffin. The numbness began in her fingers and toes and spread throughout the rest of her.
The unbearable ache gave her the sudden urge to scream, and writhe, and fight, until a figure appeared on the other side of the ice. It was impossible to see who it was, but they placed their hands over hers, and Alex began to feel the tingles of warmth—of life—in her fingers. She heard a crunch as the ice cracked.
BOOM! An explosion resonated from the depths of the ground. The grayness disappeared, and she found herself back in the field.
A dozen figures appeared and positioned themselves equally around the perimeter of the clearing. A small girl with the definition of an Olympic gymnast broke ranks and twirled through the air, sending strikes of energy to lash the screaming demon. She spun gracefully but viciously, kicking one foot in the direction of the spirit’s deranged face. There was no impact, but the force generated a loud smack. The other foot followed, knocking the screaming man to his knees. She swung her arms, chopping the wail with an invisible sword. The pieces of it turned to jagged sparks, charring the night. The man collapsed further, breathing heavily, and glaring up at the girl who stood defiantly with her hands extended.
A uniformed man stepped forward. Like the rest of the spirits who had appeared, he was dressed in combat attire. Everything about him was pristine, except for his hair, which stuck out at awkward angles. “Let’s hurry up and get rid of it.” He turned to Alex, still on the ground, gasping for air she didn’t need. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself to block the chill, but her teeth chattered uncontrollably.
The army flinched when Alex tried to stand. They were poised for fight, although why they would choose Alex as the target, she didn’t know. The man that seemed to be in charge remained hunched in anticipation.
Professor Van Hanlin suddenly emerged from the trees with his hands in the air. “Stop!” he shouted. “She’s one of ours!”
Some of the guards turned to salute.
“Officer!” one of them greeted him.
“Don’t break ranks,” the messy-haired guard commanded.
“You don’t need to fear her,” Van Hanlin said.
“She was exposed to the scream for nearly an entire minute!”
A minute! It had only been a minute?
“Did you not hear the banshee scream?”
Banshee.
“And yet they both stand here unscathed, civilized still.”
“Both?”
Van Hanlin threw out an arm in the direction of Jonas, who was still crumbled at the outskirts of the clearing.
“Impossible,” the same guard spat. “She was right in front of it!”
The guard in charge gave Van Hanlin a stiff nod. “Who is she?”
“They are children.”
“It’s impossible for an untrained child to withstand the direct shriek of a banshee for so long.”
Van Hanlin raised his palms in bewilderment. “I cannot explain what I didn’t see. You were the ones to swoop in on the scene.”
The guards continued to drift forward, slowly melting into the space between themselves and Alex, confining her.
“You don’t know who she is,” Van Hanlin said. He didn’t try to disguise the awe in his voice. “You saved her, Federive.”
Alex’s mind shifted through its contents featuring a bronze plate on the wall of the Brigitta hallway. Kender Federive, Service General.
Kender Federive’s long ponytail rippled behind her like a superhero’s cape. “What do you mean, who she is?”
A booming voice suddenly erupted from the shadows. “I’m afraid this is my fault.”
A thick man clamored into the clearing. It was the brute whom Alex had seen on her first day driving out the lure birds, the one pictured in the tableau of the city. Why were all these people here? And where was everyone two minutes ago when she needed them?
“Westfall!” Van Hanlin exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
The members of the guard buzzed with interest.
Westfall gazed at Van Hanlin in contempt and leaned toward the girl who had crippled the banshee. “Lieutenant Federive warned me about the sightings of banshees close to town. The Patrol was stationed here.”
“Why weren’t we warned?” Van Hanlin demanded.
“Certain staff members were warned. Why do you think I’m here?”
Van Hanlin threw his hands in the air. “How about warning the professors who had newburies in the woods?”
“You don’t have the best track record.”
He pointed at the guards. “I used to be one of you, for goodness’ sake! I led your patrol!”
The messy-haired leader took a step closer. “A newbury angered the banshee?”
“Knocked it clear on its head.” Jonas ambled over to Alex. With him next to her, Alex finally felt comfortable enough to stand
up straight.
Some members of the Patrol crept closer to her cautiously, still trying to get a better look. The closest guard elbowed the guy next to him and pointed at Alex. “Do you see what I see?” he murmured.
“You should educate your newburies on the dangers of the world before you lead them to open pastures,” the leader said.
“She strayed,” Van Hanlin explained.
“You know all about that, don’t you?” Westfall said.
“Don’t start with me about—”
Westfall cut him off. “Straying is the nature of a child, which is why you are supposed to keep such a tight grasp on the newly buried.”
“No, that was the point of our job,” Jonas called, rising to his feet. “To follow the strays.”
Professor Van Hanlin surveyed the group with worry etched on his face. “Where is the human she followed?”
“She ran off that way,” Alex said, pointing beyond the trees.
“Both of you followed her?”
“I followed Alex,” Jonas answered quickly. “She didn’t know.”
Another member of the guard began to march directly across the clearing. “There’s a spirit lurking in the trees across the way. There, a few yards in.”
How would he know that?
“Who?” Westfall asked.
“I aim to find out,” the guard called over his shoulder.
Westfall took another step towards Alex, but unlike the others, he wasn’t trying to get a closer look at her. He stood at an angle to block her from the patrollers.
The guard reappeared, carrying a portly boy by the cuff of his shirt. Alex squinted to make out the form. “Reuben?”
Reuben Seyferr covered his face with his sausage-like fingers and peeked through at his horror movie of an afterlife. “I heard the banshee scream. I was curious.”
“What are you teaching these kids?” one of the patrolman exclaimed. He looked charily at Van Hanlin, who sputtered, “That’s not my department!”
Some of the guards swayed from side to side like pendulums, trying to catch a better glimpse of Alex. More of them pointed, and others began to whisper.
“The children should come with us,” another member of the Patrol said. “We need to make sure they are okay.”
Of Breakable Things Page 14