by Shea, K. M.
“You,” she whispered, rather than screamed. Her soft tone was a million times more terrifying than her shouts. “Don’t know a thing,” she uttered.
Daire blinked, and Raven tore off one of her buckled dress shoes and whipped it at the high school senior, hitting him in the gut.
Daire bent over with an urk, and Raven whirled out of the room like dangerous blizzard. Her exit was so gracefully furious that the twins almost forgot she wore only one shoe.
She did not return to reclaim her footwear, instead, once safely outside the library, she removed her other shoe and began the trek home, stubbornly leaving behind her purse, coat, and cell phone in the lockers.
Raven limped through the front door of her home at noon.
“Raven? Is that you?” her father called from the family room.
“Yeah,” Raven said, dabbing at her face to rid herself of the evidence of tears. She dropped her shoe in the closet before slowly walking to the family room.
Raven’s father looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. “You’re home a little early, aren’t you?” he asked as Raven flexed her tender feet. “Where’s your jacket? Is everything okay? What happened?”
Raven slowly shook her head, closing her eyes before replying. “Daddy,” she said, her shoulders slumping with defeat. “I screwed up again,” she said, her voice void of any fight.
Raven told her father the story, explaining that she had practically admitted to Daire that she was a spy.
After an hour of talking, Raven still sat on the couch with her father, feeling calmer as she leaned into her father’s shoulder.
“It sounds like you did the best you could have, Raven,” Raven’s father said in his soothing voice.
Raven shook her head. “No. I should have concentrated on the cauldron. I got distracted with the library. I alienated myself even more than I already was.”
“That may be true. But honey, you are a page turner. It’s perfectly natural that the books would pull at you more than my mission. Besides, although Gram was hoping you might be able to uncover something we knew it was a long shot. You’re my little girl, not a trained agent,” her father said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “But,” he continued. “Losing your temper with Daire and throwing your shoe at him wasn’t the best display of self control. I’m not saying you should have bowed to his wishes, but I’m sure there was another way you could have made your opinion known,” her father firmly finished. “Destroying his computer with a virus would have been a good start.”
Raven sighed, a deep noise from her soul and ignored her father’s last comment. “Forget the backup plan. I ruined everything. I don’t think I’m welcome back there. Ever,” Raven groaned, letting the base of her neck hit the back of the couch. “And now I’ve got to figure out how to get my purse back without setting foot in the library. Maybe Shannon will get it for me. I’m sure Royce would snag it from the kitchen if I asked,” Raven supposed.
Raven’s father patted her knee. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much honey. Just concentrate on your school work and enjoy your weekend. Come Monday everything will have calmed down,” he said, standing up.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Raven grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. She rubbed her swollen eyes and yawned before getting up to drag herself upstairs.
Chapter 9
“Ray, someone’s on the phone for you!” Shina shouted from the kitchen. Her piercing voice passed through multiple walls and up to the second story, rousing Raven from her room. “It’s a BOY!” Shina added in a voice appropriate for a herald announcing a king.
Raven looked up from her mathematics homework, truly puzzled. What boy would call her?
“DID YOU HEAR ME? ISAIDITWASABOY!”
Raven leaped up from her elegant desk and hustled through the hallway. “COMING!” she shouted, slowing down when she hit the stairs. Shina waited at the bottom, brandishing the cordless phone.
“Here,” Shina said, handing it up.
“Thanks,” Raven said before placing the phone by her face. “Hello, this is Ray,” Raven said in a bouncy, cute voice as she made the trek upstairs.
Shina waited at the bottom of the stairs, clearly interested in the identity of the caller.
Raven scowled and hustled into the safety of her room, shutting the door behind her. “Hello?” she tried again when the line was quiet.
“Hey Ray.”
“We’re coming over to your house.”
“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Raven paused, recognizing the devious voices. “Asher, Aron?”
“Yep.”
“Sup?”
“Why are you calling me?” Raven asked, plopping down on her pink bed. “And how did you get this number?”
“We thought it was the polite thing to do, rather than of showing up on your doorstep without warning.”
“Like Aron said, we’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Wait, I don’t get it. Why are you guys coming to my house? More importantly, how do you know where I live?” Raven asked, raising her free hand to cover her eyes.
“We have your purse.”
“And your cell phone.”
“And your jacket.”
“So we’re coming over.”
“And then all three of us are going on a fieldtrip.”
There was a brief moment of silence.
“Guys,” Raven said. “What are you up to?”
“We’re not up to anything!”
“We’ve just decided to extend our friendship to you, little spy.”
“Oh dear, now you’ve hurt our feelings.”
Raven massaged her forehead. “Guys,” she repeated, feeling quite helpless.
“Ten minutes, Ray.”
“Bye bye!”
The phone clicked and the dial tone beeped. Raven sighed and turned the phone off. After a few moments the Montamos twins’ ultimatum sunk in. They would be here in ten minutes, and Raven was dressed in ratty jeans, her hair was straight, and she had absolutely no makeup on. Her disguise was nonexistent.
She shot off her bed and sprinted to the bathroom. After three minutes of attempting to curl her hair, Raven realized she wasn’t going to have nearly enough time to fully masquerade herself. So instead she shoved her half curled hair into a perky ponytail. She slipped into a dark pair of jeans and a pale pink sweater. She was smearing on lip gloss when the doorbell chimed.
Raven bolted, flying down the stairs and through the family room.
“Were we expecting anyone?” Raven’s mother asked from the kitchen. “I thought Adam already left with his friends to play basketball?”
“It’s for me!” Raven panted before screeching to a stop at the threshold of the door.
She took a moment to catch her breath before opening the front door. “Hello,” she said as the door swung open.
Asher and Aron Montamos stood on her porch. Asher held her purse by the strap, the actual purse dangled between his clasped hands. Aron held her pink cell phone and black dress coat. Both boys had charming, benevolent smiles fixed on their faces.
Raven—in pure terror—slammed the door shut on their sparkling teeth.
“Hey!”
“Ray!”
The duo whined outside the newly reclosed door.
Raven opened the door again and suspiciously peered at them.
“Your things,” they sweetly said, holding out her purse, jacket, and cell phone, smiles renewed.
“Thank you,” Raven said, taking the items before slamming the door shut again.
This time one of the twins, Asher—that white scar was going to make her life so much easier—managed to shove his shoe between the door and its frame. He yelped like a kicked puppy when the door whacked his foot.
“We want to talk!” Aron insisted through the crack as his brother yipped in pain.
Raven let the door swing open as Asher removed his foot from the door frame and pouted.
“So
rry,” she said in a very unapologetic voice.
Asher snorted.
“We said you were coming with us on a fieldtrip,” Aron reminded Raven, gesturing over his shoulder to an idling black jeep that was parked in front of her house.
Raven blinked. “Where are you going?” she asked, reaching up to tighten her ponytail.
“The Bakertown Art Museum,” Asher announced, rolling his eyes and sneering.
Wrinkles spread across Raven’s forehead like a spider web. “Bakertown has an art museum?”
“It’s an over glorified amateur fest,” Aron sniffed. “We have to go there for an art assignment. Come with?”
“There is no reason to,” Raven said, leaning back on her heels. The twins’ good mood was highly suspicious. It wasn’t like they had parted well. Plus she wouldn’t put it past them to knock her unconscious and dump her in a dark alley.
“No tricks,” Asher said, as though reading her mind.
“We promise,” Aron said as the brothers solemnly raised their right hands.
“Cross our rings and shut our eyes,” Asher sang.
“Stab our hearts and hope to die,” Aron finished.
“Ew,” Raven said, wrinkling her nose.
“Nonmagical people say that all the time,” Aron informed her.
“But if it makes you feel any better you we can swear on our magic,” Asher chimed in.
“I’m pretty sure you guys got the rhyme wrong,” Raven frowned.
They ignored her observation.
“Come on Ray, please!”
“I mean really, we never say please.”
“Not even to our Dad.”
“So you should feel really special.”
Raven tucked her arms against her chest and narrowed her eyes. “I thought we had a mutual understanding that we hated each other. Why are you guys being so friendly?”
“Because you threw your shoe at Daire,” Asher said.
“Your shoe,” Aron reiterated. “At Daire.”
“So put on some footwear and let’s get going,” Asher ordered, pushing Raven back into her house.
“And don’t wear those ridiculous strappy shoes of yours. You don’t have to bother around us,” Aron added.
Raven reluctantly retrieved a pair of black stylized ballet slippers from the shoe closet before calling to her mother. “Mom, I’m going out with some friends!”
“Oh really? Who?” Raven’s mother asked, coming out of the laundry room, a basket of newly folded laundry tucked against her hip.
“Some of the guys from Saint Cloud,” Raven said, trying to keep her expression as even as possible.
“Okay,” Raven’s mother said with a calmness that came with being married to a black dog. “Have fun. Remember you and Adam are in charge tonight since your father and I will be gone.”
“Right, bye!” Raven said, shouldering her purse and snagging a light jacket before hopping out of the house. Aron closed the door behind her, and the duo escorted Raven down the sidewalk and up to the idling jeep.
“What, we don’t get to meet your family?” Aron said with falsified sorrow.
“I’m surprised we didn’t hear your cat. Beowulf, right?” Asher said with a sidelong smirk.
Raven froze for a moment before remembering she had taken photos on her cell phone in order to further establish her cover. The twins had most likely sifted through her purse and cell phone, which would explain how they found her home phone number and address.
Raven hopped in the jeep and blinked at the stranger that leaked out of the driver’s chair. He closely resembled a gorilla.
“Hello there!” the man boomed, twisting in his seat to properly address Raven. “I’m Harold Goldsmith, the twins’ uncle on their mother’s side. You must be Ray McCellen, it’s a pleasure to meet you Ray,” the man said before breaking into an impressive laugh.
Raven concluded there must be some troll blood in the twins’ family. That would account for their personalities and Harold’s size.
“Hello Mr. Goldsmith. Yes, I’m Ray,” Raven cheerfully clarified as she realized the twins were fighting just outside the car. Apparently neither one of them wanted to sit in the front.
“Mr. Goldsmith is my father, little lady. Call me Harold!” the giant man insisted as the twins finally decided the winner.
A triumphant Asher hopped into the seat next to Raven while a sour looking Aron slipped into the front seat.
“You’ve already introduced yourself, Uncle Harold?” Aron glumly said.
“Uncle Harold is an American Kingdom Quest Ambassador for Russia,” Asher said as he dutifully put on his seatbelt, affectionately patting the strap.
“I don’t often get to come home, so when I do I stay with the boys and their father,” Harold thundered as he abruptly switched gears and pulled into the street.
Based on the twins’ wrinkled foreheads, narrowed eyes, and jutting lower lips, they were less than pleased with the housing arrangement, which made Raven decide she was going to like Harold.
“I am very happy you two have finally made a friend,” Harold chuckled as the jeep lurched down the road at a speed that was clearly not law abiding. “I just hope you can share her.”
“We can share anything,” Asher declared before the jeep zoomed around a corner.
Raven’s stomach gurgled and she understood why Aron didn’t want to sit up front. It was because you stood the greatest chance of being killed when Harold would inevitably crash into something.
In front Aron was turning an unappealing shade of green.
“How long are you in Bakertown, Harold?” Raven politely asked, managing to keep her voice light even though she had a death grip on the door.
“I have one week left before I head back. I need to do some work on my house in Russia,” Harold said as the jeep screeched to a stop at a stop sign before hurtling forward again. Harold seemed to think the red signs were more of a suggestion than an order. “It’ll start getting chilly there soon,” Harold dubiously said.
“Uncle Harold, there’s a speed limit,” Aron reminded his relative.
Asher abruptly braced himself.
“Oh yeah!” Harold said, slamming on the breaks. Harold lurched barely an inch and Asher had wedged himself so deep into the seat only the Jaws of Life could detach him. Aron and Raven, however, were jerked forward and nearly choked on their seatbelts.
“Sorry. I work on a Kingdom Quest compound, and we haven’t bothered posting speed limits,” Harold roared with laughter.
“I see,” Raven faintly said.
“Maybe we should have walked,” Asher muttered.
“Oh! Here’s the lake!” Uncle Harold said, motioning with both of his hands at the blue expanse of water. The jeep swerved with his unexpected gestures.
“Yes, we see it, Uncle Harold,” Aron said, diving to straighten the wheel.
“Now, now Aron,” Harold said, playfully whacking Aron’s hands so hard it made the teenager yelp. “I let you drive to Ray’s house since you have your temps and all, but you don’t get to drive now!”
“There’s the art museum,” Asher said, pointing to a glass building as color returned to his face.
“Oh! A good parking spot,” Harold said before gunning it.
Raven and the twins plastered themselves to their seats and shut their eyes as Harold parallel parked the jeep.
The moment the vehicle was stationary the twins threw themselves out of the car with joyous shouts.
“Wow,” Harold said, watching his nephews collapse on the museum’s lawn. “Those two must be real art enthusiasts.”
“Thank you for the ride, Harold,” Raven faintly said before slipping out of the jeep. She stumbled once before she turned around to peer back in the vehicle.
“No problem little lady! I’m thrilled to hear that my nephews have finally made a friend,” Harold beamed before roaring at the nearly comatose twins.
“You boys give me a call when you’re ready to come home,” he
thundered in a voice that was audible to probably half of the visitors in the park that the museum was nestled in. “Your father wanted us all to have a family dinner tonight! I’m grilling some meat! Don’t worry Ray; you can come over for dinner too!”
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly—,”
“Bye!” Harold said before he began pulling out of the parking spot. Raven had to lurch forward to shut the door as Harold pulled away, tires squealing.
“Well,” Raven blinked. “Wow.”
“Do you think we could catch a cab home?” Aron said, peeling himself off the ground.
“Uncle Harold, I’m reporting you to the law,” Asher promised, lifting one arm up in the air.
“He thinks you two are art enthusiasts,” Raven said.
“Look,” Asher started, standing up. “When we’re with Uncle Harold we aren’t up to our usual standards.”
“We mostly concentrate on coming out of the reunion alive,” Aron said. “Which is quite the challenge.”
Raven rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just exaggerating, Aron. He seemed perfectly nice, although his driving skills could use a little work.”
“I,” Aron said, brushing himself off. “am Asher.”
“Liar, you’re Aron,” Raven said with absolute confidence.
The twins froze and snapped their eyes towards Raven, who shrugged on her jacket.
“What?” Aron asked.
Raven quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re Aron,” she said, flipping her ponytail out of her jacket collar.
The twins swapped glances.
“Random fluke,” Asher decided.
“Had to be,” Aron agreed.
“No,” Raven shook her head. “I have got you two down. No more fooling me,” she declared before spinning around to stare at the glass building. “So this museum, it’s pretty small?” She said, deciding to play nice. If the twins did any kidnapping again, though, she was going to sic Nate on them.
“Yeah,” Asher said as he and his twin glided to her side before they started walking. “It’s two stories. The first floor is art.”
“It was built about two years ago due to ‘generous donations’. Really it was just the local KQ organization. They gave the city leftover budget money from Saint Cloud,” Aron said.