Of Breakable Things

by A. Lynden Rolland

  Ellington finally stopped tapping his pencil and pointed it at Alex. “This stays in this room, but the pranks occurring in the city have the Patrol up in arms.”

  Alex felt a draft in the room without windows. It crept up and settled behind her. “Why?”

  “Because if someone is trying to copy the Paradise crew, your life is no safer than your mother’s was.”

  ***

  Alex rushed back to the medical center as soon as she could. Something was wrong. In her thoughts, she was Chase. She could see his shoes crunching through the underbrush, passing an old familiar tree with five sets of initials carved into the bark, Alex’s included. And at that grandfather tree where they’d always hid their treasure, she heard Jonas say, “We’re almost there.”

  And in her thoughts Alex heard, I can’t believe we’re back here.

  She didn’t understand, so she picked up the pace. But the only one in Gabe’s room at the medical center was Skye. “Gabe’s hair looks a bit curlier,” she murmured in greeting.

  Alex wasn’t in the mood for Skye’s offbeat remarks. Things weren’t right. The Lasalles wouldn’t have left their brother here like this unless it was for a really good reason. And even with Skye in the room, Alex felt very much alone.

  Chase? Alex called in her head.

  No answer. Usually if he attempted to block her intrusion into his thoughts, she could still sense him there, but he’d locked the deadbolt of his mind.

  “How did you know Gabe was here?”

  “Jack Bond.” Skye twisted her beautiful face distastefully. “He told me to give you a message from Chase.”

  “What message?”

  Skye pointed to the table next to Alex. There was a scrap of paper folded in messy fours. “He left that for you. Where did Gabe find a banshee?”

  Alex ignored her question. “How did you know I would be here?”

  “I guess Chase told Jack.”

  Alex snatched up the note, her eyes scurrying across the page. “You didn’t read this, did you?”

  “I didn’t want to touch it any longer than I had to,” Skye said, recoiling and wiping a non-existent contagion from her fingers. “Why?”

  “Because you would have come to find me,” Alex said, hurrying out the door.

  “What does it say?” Skye rushed to keep up. “Is it okay to leave Gabe?”

  “You should stay,” Alex suggested. She threw open the door to the stairway with a little too much force. She heard a cracking sound, but didn’t turn around to see the damage she’d caused. “Ugh!” she groaned, jumping down the stairs. “Why can’t I just think myself out of this building?”

  “Because you have to be able to see where you’re going. If you could think your way somewhere we wouldn’t need radio waves to travel.”

  “I was being rhetorical,” Alex hissed, bursting out of the building. She waved the note above her head. “I still don’t get this. Jack saw Chase leaving campus this afternoon, and Chase told Jack to tell me that he was going home.”

  “Home? Like Brigitta?”

  “No. Home, home. Parrish, Maryland. Where Gabe was attacked.”

  “Why would they do that?” she asked. “There’s a banshee on the loose.”

  Because Alex never gave Jonas an answer to his question. She should have told him to go, to run away. He’d be better off away from his brothers. But if even a small part of him wanted to stay, he needed to find some evidence of his innocence. A way to clear his name. And he’d taken Chase with him, banshee or not. She couldn’t talk to Kaleb right now, and Gabe was unconscious. Without any of them, she felt helpless. Alone. Just like after they’d died. She wouldn’t put up with the hopelessness again.

  Alex stopped abruptly, and Skye ran into her. “How do I get to Gramble station?”

  “What are you expecting to happen there?”

  Alex looked at her incredulously. “Travel.”

  “Are you crazy? Everyone knows we’re not old enough to travel alone. There are rules about newburies. We won’t last ten minutes in the Gramble.”

  Alex could feel her anxiety rising like a heat. “Do you know about the stairway by Van Hanlin’s classroom?”

  “The exit? Sure. But it only works in emergencies.”

  If this wasn’t an emergency, she didn’t know what was. She took off, racing across campus, so determined and lost in her thoughts that she was surprised to find Skye next to her when she reached the third floor of the learning center.

  They turned the corner, and there, outside Van Hanlin’s dark room, sat an impatient-looking Professor Duvall. She stood quickly, jewelry jingling, shawls billowing, and her hands placed authoritatively on her hips.

  “Professor.” Skye gulped. “What are you doing?”

  Duvall huffed, placing one hand on the back of each of their necks, spinning them around and leading them to the opposite end of the hallway. “Helping you,” she whispered. “What took you so long? And what would you have done if the exit worked, huh? How would you have controlled where you ended up?”

  Alex’s response caught in her throat. She hadn’t thought that far. Jonas had said he’d entered the stairway with urgency on his mind, and it had transported him home.

  “There’s a reason why a roof parapet isn’t an approved form of travel. It’s only an emergency exit. Very dangerous indeed. Let’s go to my office quickly, shall we? We don’t have much time.”

  Alex shot a questioning look toward Skye, who promptly raised a confused eyebrow.

  Duvall’s office was a mess of books, lab tools, jars of unidentifiable substances, cages covered by blankets, and shelves congested with tiny vials. She scrambled up a rolling ladder, browsing through the inhabitants of the shelves with her bone-thin arms, mumbling quietly about organizing.

  Skye’s mouth had formed a large O, astonishment glistening in her eyes. Alex followed her gaze to a large broomstick resting in the corner. There were tracks of dirty footprints trailing from the window to the resting place of the broom.

  “Professor!” Skye sputtered. “You didn’t leave the city, did you? I thought it was too risky. What about the witches?”

  Duvall followed their gazes to the broomstick. “I’d like it if you referred to them as the gifted, and I can handle myself. It’s been centuries. I doubt they still employ round-the-clock spies to sniff out my whereabouts.” Duvall cut Alex off before she could speak. “So, have either of you ever traveled by power lines?”

  Both girls shook their heads.

  “Of course not,” Duvall grumbled. “Because this school has become so prehistorically prude in its teachings. They foolishly assume if they give you too much freedom you’ll become troublesome.” She bit her lip. “You need alternate means of travel.”

  “Do you mean … ” Alex couldn’t stop herself from gawking back at the broomstick in the corner.

  Duvall cackled. “Oh dear me, no! That would be quite a sight in broad daylight!”

  Alex crossed her arms and scowled, wondering how in the world she was supposed to know that they couldn’t just douse the broom in Thymoserum to make it seem invisible.

  “So how are we going to get there?” Skye asked, glancing out the window nervously. “Electrical wires?”

  Duvall shook her head. “Not if you’ve never done it before. You could easily get lost due to the frequent stops, and that would be unfavorable. Too much can go wrong if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Well, there aren’t any other ways to travel, are there?”

  “You’d be surprised how many of the gifted in this day and age are solely technological.” Duvall spun a computer monitor around to face them. “What signal travels just as quickly as a cell phone?”

  Alex inspected the computer. “We’re going to travel through the internet? Is it safe?”

  “Of course it’s safe. You’re dead!” Duvall barked. “Your body is comprised of energy. Sometimes the monitor flickers, and I wonder if it’s them trying to find me. Spyware has
nothing on pure energy. It isn’t comfortable like cell phone travel, so spirits don’t use it often. Alex, do you know anyone in the Parrish area who might provide us with a connection right now?”

  Alex nodded. What teenager wasn’t constantly connected to the internet? She was willing to bet that right now Liv Frank was lounging on her bed with a bag of Oreos and a Diet Coke, scrolling through her phone and ordering her brother out of her room. In that moment, Alex missed her friend desperately. During the past few months she’d been so preoccupied she hadn’t had a chance to think about Liv.

  “All right,” Duvall said, shoving aside some odd drawings on her desk. “Give me a phone number or log in name of any social media for whomever you’re thinking of, and you can travel through the connection.”

  Skye reached out and grabbed her hand, but that didn’t make Alex any less nervous. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Duvall let out an indignant huff. “You doubt me? There is no other way for you to get there.”

  “It’s up to you, Alex,” Skye said. “Do you really think they need our help?”

  Yes. She couldn’t allow anything to happen to Chase. She’d only just gotten him back. And for him, she’d do anything. “Professor, why are you helping us break the rules?”

  “Because you’re supposed to be there. And sometimes fate needs a little nudge.”

  Alex didn’t quite understand, but she placed her free hand on the computer before she could chicken out.

  “Allow it to pull you in,” Duvall ordered.

  Alex tightened her grasp on Skye and leaned into the computer.

  To say it was uncomfortable was an understatement. Alex didn’t know if the constricting dizziness in her mind was a result of the form of travel or a reaction to her panic. She never did anything crazy like this unless the Lasalles were there to catch her if she fell.

  She mentally clung to Skye’s presence. They zipped around the bends of the roller coaster ride, yelping each time the electricity zapped them. They jolted and jerked through a silver tunnel of sparks, and Alex concentrated with all her might, picturing herself and Skye as one to avoid losing her friend. Finally, Alex saw a rainbow of colors, and she braced herself as they picked up speed and burst through the screen.

  They landed awkwardly in a heap on the floor, which was smothered in a Pepto-Bismol pink carpet. Sitting up, Alex inhaled the familiar scent of Febreze and Abercrombie perfume and smiled at the room where she’d spent so many of her childhood sleepovers. Liv’s phone had been left on the floor next to a binder predictably sprinkled with black cookie crumbs. No doubt she was retrieving more snacks from the cupboard where her mother kept an endless supply. Posters of teenage celebrities and pictures of high school cluttered the walls: scenes from football games, dances, field trips, and boat rides. All with Alex. More than she remembered, and in most of them, Chase stood beside her. Liv had captured snapshots of a life lost, framing a note scrawled amongst the photos. Where did you go? she asked of the memories haunting her.

  “Alex,” Skye whispered.

  Right. No time for this. Skye leaped through the window, which revealed a murky sky concealed by a veil of clouds. Alex climbed onto the sill and took one last fleeting glance at the room before plummeting into the flowerbeds below.

  Liv’s backyard bordered the Parrish woods. If they trekked far enough, they would be in the Eskers territory, and that’s where they would find the old asylum, the one Alex knew Chase was searching for.

  “Are you ready?” Alex asked, preparing to dart in the direction of the woods.

  Skye nodded, but her eyes grew wide as a voice drifted through the yard. “Alex?” It clung to the air around them like a prayer. Liv Frank craned her head around the windowpane and squinted into the darkness.

  “She can see us,” Alex whispered in surprise.

  “Alex,” Skye said with warning in her voice. “We need to go.” She glanced at Liv guardedly. “That could get us into more trouble than we can handle.”

  She was right. Alex desperately wanted to see her old friend and wondered how Liv knew she was there, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

  The girls hurried off into the trees which seemed so undersized to Alex compared to the redwoods she'd grown so used to seeing. They didn’t slow their pace until they reached a narrow road snaking its way through the underbrush.

  “Okay,” Alex said. “It’s off this path somewhere.”

  Skye had one hand closed around the nearest branch, and she used her free hand to hold Alex in place. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “It sounds like … ” Skye tilted her head towards the darkness. “It sounds like bells.”

  Fear still had the ability to make Alex’s throat tighten.

  A child’s voice twisted through the air around them like an exhale of cigarette smoke. “Does she remember me? No screams this time?”

  Alex spun around, but it was impossible to tell where the voice was coming from.

  “Who is that?” Skye asked.

  The bells jingled again. “Answer my question and I’ll show you who I am. He who makes it sells it. He who buys it doesn’t use it. He who uses it doesn’t know it. What is the object?”

  Skye shrugged. She didn’t seem fazed by their present company at all. “It’s a coffin,” she replied easily.

  “Smart girl,” the voice noted. “You look like a Gossamer.”

  A figure appeared between two distant trees, and he was far less intimidating than Alex expected. He was stick-figure thin with white hair and young laugh lines. Alex had assumed the squeak in his voice was due to insanity, not adolescence. He didn’t wear the jester’s hat, but it hung from his waistband. His defiant eyes curled up at the edges like he’d been caught doing something wrong. He reminded Alex of Huckleberry Finn.

  “You’re the Jester?” Alex asked.

  “I knew you’d be back here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The boy shrugged, shooing the air with his hand. “Once you’ve been a spirit as long as I have, you get a sense for the soon-to-be deceased.” He grinned widely at Alex. “You stank of death.”

  “Thanks for the flattery.”

  “You’re quite far from the others.” The Jester tut-tutted. “Lost, are you?”

  “No, the old Eskers building isn’t far, right?” Alex asked. “The west end?”

  “Oh.” The boy pursed his lips. “Yes.” He glanced in the opposite direction, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

  “Have you seen two boys?”

  “Only two? Yes,” he replied in a sing-song voice. “They look the same, similarities misleading, one is so honest and the other deceiving.”

  This kid has lost his mind, Alex thought.

  “Can you show us where they are?” Skye asked.

  “I wouldn’t go near that building if I were you. Insanity isn’t something to meddle with.”

  “They’re our friends. We’re going to find them.”

  For the first time, the Jester’s smile faded. “Okay, fine, have it your way. I was hoping you’d stay and play awhile.”

  “Wait,” Alex said, remembering the rumors. “Are there other spirits living there in that building? Will they hurt us?”

  “They’re hiding right now,” he replied, “for obvious reasons.” He pointed to the left. “Follow the sounds of screaming.”

  Alex watched him float away to the ringing of bells. “What a whack-job.”

  “I thought he was interesting,” Skye said.

  They turned in the direction to which he’d pointed. Within minutes, they came to a large, rusty steel gate labeled The Eskers.

  “It looks like a concentration camp,” Skye commented, wrinkling her nose.

  No birds chirped, and the light even kept its distance, tucked safely behind the darkening clouds. Alex’s residence had been the newer version of the facility, which was built on the opposite end of the woods. This side of the Eskers had an entirely
different vibe. Half the building remained intact. The leftovers, however, comprised a mountain of singed bricks and blackened debris. Alex could smell the burning of the rotten embers like charcoal sitting for hours after the grill had died.

  “Charming place,” Skye noted, slipping through a hole in the gate.

  “I don’t hear any electricity, do you?”

  Skye shook her head. “But that’s only when spirits move at an exhaustingly fast pace. Banshees aren’t reasonable enough to know better, so it wears them out, but you might not know it’s there until it's hovering behind you.”

  Alex shuddered and glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see a set of soulless black eyes piercing through her. “So we shouldn’t just start shouting out Chase’s name, huh?”

  “Probably not the best idea. I don’t feel good about this place.”

  Neither did Alex. Who would? But they needed to hurry before they lost the dim light from the cloudy sky. Skye followed Alex through overgrown weeds, jagged stumps, and random furniture scattered throughout the yard, a chair here, a blackened file there. The building was like a stroke victim—from one angle the structure seemed perfectly healthy, unscathed, and from the other side it slumped lifelessly.

  Alex didn’t want to tell Skye how scared she was. Rumor had it that during renovations, the builders became frightened after a series of accidents. They abandoned the project, labeled the building “damned,” and left it alone to rot. No one cleared the dirty surgical rooms for lobotomies or the beds with shackles for electroshock therapy treatment. Or so she had heard.

  “Is there a door?” Skye asked. “I don’t want to go through the wall. I don’t want to touch anything.”

  “I’ve never gone through a wall,” Alex admitted. “And I’m not sure I could think my way through it right now anyway.”

  They found a side entrance where a door dangled askew, hanging by a hinge. One at a time, they ducked into the unknown.

  Skye stumbled over the threshold and caught herself by grabbing the doorframe. She shivered violently and ripped her hand away. “Oh God,” she choked. “What’s wrong with this place?”