What? What chimes? It? Was he talking about the boy? My mind tangled with confusion as Zeph turned away. His hand slid out of mine.
He took off his coat, but not before fishing the box of sidewalk chalk out of the pocket. He began drawing curling, spidery letters paired with weird little shapes on the floor with chalk—things similar to what I had seen in my dad’s old books. He made a series of them between the doorway, in front of the bedroom window, and finally in the shape of a two large circles, close together like a figure eight, on the floor. The last design he drew was a triangle within a circle. Once he finished, he pulled a little baggie of salt, and sprinkled it all around the outside perimeter of the design.
It took everything I had not to glance back down at the boy for more than a second or two. Every time I tried, my stomach churned and my heart wrenched with the desire to help him. The noises he made didn’t sound human. His head was twisted around at an angle that looked like it should have only been possible for someone with a broken neck, and his glazed, milky eyes bored into mine. I shuddered. I had to force myself to remember—this was a child, not a monster. A faerie had done this to him. The family downstairs loved him, and they were counting on us to save him.
When I looked back at Zeph, he’d shed his human shape—and his shirt. His bare shoulders flexed, and two shining wings filled the room with a gentle glow, and his brawny upper body rippled with strength. He stooped to take off his shoes and socks, tossing them into the growing pile near the door. Then Zeph turned, and his eyes were intense as he stared at me with purpose. “Ready?”
Um, no. Of course not.
“Look who came to pay me a visit …” The voice coming from the boy’s body clearly wasn’t his. It didn’t even sound like a child. It sounded more like an old man’s throaty, raspy sneer. “I’ve been expecting you. My master will be so pleased.”
“I bet.” Zeph smirked at the boy’s twisted form. “When he gets here, I’ll beat his ass, too.”
“You talk so big, but we all know your secret. You’re a dead-man walking, changeling. How sad.” The voice gave a hissing, scratchy chuckle. “You’ve only got a few months left, don’t you? Who will protect her then, hmm? Not that puca runt, I’m sure. He’ll go whimpering back to his father with his tail between his legs, just like last time.”
Zeph prowled closer, his wings brushing the floor as he walked. He grabbed one of my arms, pushed up the sleeve of my coat, and began drawing on my skin with the piece of chalk. He drew more of those strange little runes, making them spiral up both my arms and across my forehead. I tried my best to hold still, but I couldn’t make my body stop trembling.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.
“I-I’m not. I’m just cold,” I lied through chattering teeth.
“This’ll be over soon. Just hang in there. You asked me what a tether is, remember?” He took my hand gently and led me over to stand in the middle of one of the circles on the floor.
I nodded. “Y-yes.”
“Oh, she likes it when you touch her doesn’t she? Look at that. I bet her little body just aches for you,” the monster hiding behind that boy’s skin laughed again.
I flushed. How could that creature possibly know that?
Zeph ignored him. He kept his attention focused on me as he stepped into the circle next to mine, still holding my hand tightly. “I have to do what we call a purge. It’s like a cleansing, or an exorcism, but much more focused. It’ll only take a minute or two, but I need enough power to flush the boy’s body entirely, which will drive out the sylph. He won’t be able to disobey me then. It’s the only way we can save him. I’m going to need to borrow power from you to do it, though. You’ll be the tether that binds us as one so we can share that power.”
“Borrow from me?” I didn’t understand how I could possibly help with something like that. “But I can’t do magic. I’m not a child. If I had power like that, I’d know it, wouldn’t I?”
His smile was tender and strangely sad. “You can do a lot more than you realize, Josie. Every living thing on this planet has magic in them, whether they realize it or not. Some have a lot more than others. Just trust me, okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
I did trust him. Looking up into his strange, otherworldly face, I knew there would never be anyone I trusted more. He was a terrifying, beautiful creature. The dazzling light from his wings chased away the thick shadows and washed over me, extinguishing my fears.
He reached for my other hand. “It’s going to hurt a little. But not for long. It’ll be a lot worse on my end.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Zeph stared down at me, his mouth scrunched like there was something else he wanted to say. His brow crinkled and he stole a glance over at the boy. “You know how I said strong emotions make for easy prey? It’s because those powerful feelings sort of bring all that stored magic to the surface so you can tap into it—or so a fae can steal it.”
I frowned. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because to get the burst of power I’m gonna need for this, I have to do something more effective than scaring you.”
“What is that supposed to—”
Suddenly, Zeph pulled me close. He grasped my face and pressed his lips against mine.
I froze. My stomach dropped, my knees went weak, and my heartbeat thrilled. All I could think about was the warmth of his mouth moving against mine—delicious and addicting. I wanted to get closer. I wanted to touch him, maybe run my fingers through his hair. I started to take a step.
Zeph held me in place. His grip on my face tightened.
A strange tingling sensation sizzled through my fingers and toes. That was normal for a first real kiss, right?
It spread, becoming more and more uncomfortable like the dull ache whenever one of my legs fell asleep. My head swam, and the tingling began to hurt as though I’d been buried in burning hot sand.
Zeph jerked away, his face blanched and screwed up with pain. His body convulsed, and the chalk marks on the floor lit up like white paint under a black light. He let out a booming roar, flexing to spread his wings wide. All around us, the shape of the room seemed to flex with him as though the universe were made of rubber.
His body warped into something stranger than ever. More of those dazzling runes began gleaming down his back, abdomen, and across his chest—covering him like ultraviolet stripes. His wings unfurled to fill the room, growing greater in size and more vivid in color. All his glassy feathers sparkled in radiant hues of violet, crimson, and gold. The horns on his head were longer and curled, like ram’s horns. His ears became long and pointed again, and his legs morphed and twisted, evolving into a furry and feline shape. His feet were paws, each tipped with a curled claw, and I could have sworn I saw him sprout a lion’s tail.
Whatever Zeph was—I’d never seen anything like it. But the sight of him in that form didn’t startle me. Instead, my eyes roamed his physique, admiring every detail and wishing I had the nerve to reach out and touch him.
I didn’t get to enjoy that distraction for long.
“He doesn’t want you to know, little girl,” the sylph screeched over the sound of Zeph’s rage. “He’s keeping secrets from you again. Lies! So many lies! Can’t you feel it?”
I clamped my hands over my ears.
Zeph walked to the bedside, his lips drawn back in a snarl as he glared down at the child who kicked and flailed, trying to get away from him. He put his palms on either side of the boy’s head, forcing him to be still. The child’s body went rigid. His eyes glowed like a car’s headlights as a strange sound whispered through the air. Something musical, maybe. Chimes?
“Look how hard he’s worked to cover up his lies! So many years of desperate work. So many tears. So much blood,” the sylph wailed. “All these broken years spent toiling just because he doesn’t want you to know the truth!”
“Stop it!
” I screamed back, shutting my eyes tightly. I wouldn’t listen, no matter what. I had to be strong this time.
“He doesn’t want you to know … he’s your benefactor. Your sweet, sweet Ben.”
The air seemed to suck right out of the room—becoming a vacuum of eerie calm.
The boy lay silent, his chest rising and falling with peaceful breaths. His body was bloodied and bruised, but no longer bent in horrific ways. He even had color in his cheeks again.
On the other side of the room, Zeph was weaving on his feet. The marks on his body were beginning to go dark. His face was dripping with sweat, and he looked like he was in pain. He managed to keep his composure though, walking to the foot of the bed where the circle lined with salt was drawn on the floor.
In the center of it, hovering like a column of black smoke, was the sylph.
Two white eyes burned amidst a formless, flickering dark mass like smoldering embers. The creature let out a shriek like the cry of an eagle and threw itself against the edge of the circle. It made a loud buzzing, zapping sound. The salt circle glowed with power, sending up a sizzling cylindrical column of golden energy. Trapped inside, the sylph leered at me. Its shape was much more solid now and reminded me of a harpy, like the ones I had read about in my English class when we studied Ovid’s Metamorphoses—only this one looked like a male rather than a female like in the stories.
The short, ugly creature shifted on its scaly, bird-like legs as it eyed its glowing prison as though searching for some way out. It had the wings of a bird where its arms should have been and long, pointed ears, and a hooked nose.
The sylph leered up at us with beady dark eyes glittering with malice, baring pointed teeth. It flailed against the barrier again, clawing and hissing furiously. The salt circle held firm, though.
Zeph seemed satisfied. The sylph apparently couldn’t escape that circle, and as soon as he finished making sure of that … he crumpled into a heap on the floor. His wings and horns melted away, vanishing into a fine mist that dissipated almost as quickly as they appeared.
Immediately, I pulled out my phone to dial 911. If we acted fast, maybe they would be able to save some of the boy’s fingers. I was trying to explain to the 911 dispatcher where we were, which was becoming more and more frustrating, when Hank and the rest of the boy’s family came running into the room.
“Eli!” The mother let out a frantic sob and rushed to the bed, throwing her arms around her son.
The father and the rest of the siblings stood back, though. None of them said a word. Their expressions were still pasty with horror, eyes wide and wary.
As soon as he walked over, I shoved the phone into Hank’s hands and rushed to Zeph.
He was lying on the floor, sprawled out and gasping for frantic, shallow breaths. His fingers twitched, almost as though he’d been electrocuted, and his face was ashen.
Oh god. Had something gone wrong? Was he dying?
Zeph’s eyes flew open as I reached to touch his shoulder. He barely made it to his hands and knees before throwing up violently. I reeled back to avoid the spray.
Vomit went everywhere—all over the floor, rug, and my shoes. I backed farther away and got to my feet. The sound of his retching was unbearable, but I couldn’t look away.
Zeph was Ben.
He’d been lying to me again. The emails … the text messages … and now this charade of friendship, acting like he was some kind of guardian. All this time, he was just screwing around with my head, toying with me and tugging on my heartstrings just to watch me dance. How could he do this to me? Losing my whole family wasn’t enough?
And the worst part was I’d fallen for it. Ugh, I’d even told him that I had feelings for him!
I stormed toward the door.
“Josie!” Zeph’s weak, hoarse voice called after me. “Wait! Please!”
I glared back at his desperate, puke-covered face. “I’m going to get you a bucket, you moron,” I snapped bitterly.
Any betrayal I had ever experienced paled in comparison to this. He deserved to suffer. He deserved to puke until he died—but I wasn’t going to let him do it all over someone else’s house. This poor family hadn’t done anything to deserve having to clean up his mess.
When I came back with a small plastic trashcan, I slammed it down in front of him. My face screwed up as I bit back angry sobs.
“He’ll be fine. It should pass in a few hours.” Hank came to join me as I watched Zeph leaning into the trashcan. “He just used too much magic at once. It’s a shock to his system, after not being at his full strength for so long. It’s like giving an emaciated person too much to eat after they’ve been starving.”
I narrowed my eyes on my benefactor. I’d give him a shock, all right.
Hank nudged my arm. “Come on, let’s help him to the car.”
I didn’t want to help Zeph do anything, but it wasn’t fair to leave Hank with all the work.
The boy’s father joined in the effort to clean up our mess while Hank dealt with the sylph. He used what looked like a quilt made of a patchwork of animal skins, leaves, and brightly colored silks. He cast it over the salt circle, and the shape of the sylph vanished. Hank gathered the quilt up until it was folded up into a small star-shape. He handled it carefully, and I knew the sylph must be trapped inside that cloth somehow. He locked the cloth inside a lunchbox-sized case that looked like it was made of solid iron. Interesting. It must have had something to do with what he’d told me before, about how iron couldn’t conduct magic.
I’d never seen anything like it … I had to learn how to do that. Whatever it took, whoever’s arm I had to twist, I needed to learn more about this. I wanted to fight these faeries and help people the way Hank did.
The ambulance arrived as we loaded Zeph into the back of our car. I sat beside him in the back, holding his coat while he stayed hunched over with the trashcan between his knees. The family had let him keep it—not that I blamed them. As we pulled away from the house, Hank rolled all the car windows down so the smell of fresh vomit wouldn’t be so bad on the drive back home.
Zeph was obviously miserable. He was still heaving so hard and often that he couldn’t speak, but I couldn’t bear to look at him. Every time I did, betrayal cut through my chest and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stifle any sound. Breathe—I had to breathe.
We slipped through the empty downtown streets. At this hour, the only traffic was a few taxis roaming around for late night fares. The city was calm—a tranquil contrast to what was going on in the seat next to me as we pulled up to the front of our building.
Hank helped Zeph climb the stairs to his apartment. I walked ahead, leading the way and unlocking his front door with the set of keys I found in his coat pocket. After depositing him on his bed, Hank stood back with a grimace. We both watched silently while Zeph hugged his trashcan again. The sounds he made were almost as bad as the smell.
“The symptoms are like the stomach flu, but they should clear up soon,” Hank said, like he was trying to reassure me. “Next time, it won’t be like this … hopefully.”
I wasn’t so sure there would be a next time.
“I’ll be fine. Go on, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”
He cast me an apologetic look. “You sure about that?”
I nodded.
“Here, this’ll help.” He reached into one of the pockets of his black leather vest and handed me another pack of Zeph’s favorite cigarettes.
I narrowed my eyes. “Seriously? Now is not the time for—”
“They’re for the pain,” he interrupted.
“Pain?”
Hank nodded. “I make them myself. It’s nothing illegal, so don’t worry about that. They’re my own combination of medicinal herbs and a bit of spellwork. Gives him a boost on the days when the pain’s dragging him down. Using too much magic usually sets it off in a bad way.”
I sw
allowed hard and looked down at the small box. So … all the times he was smoking … it was because he was suffering? “I-I didn’t realize.”
Hank shrugged. “Once you get him settled, take a few and put them in a bowl. It’s the smoke you’re after. Think of it like incense. You’re gonna need to let them burn a little and then blow them out.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to hang around?”
I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “I’m okay. I’ll manage.”
Hank wrote his cell phone number down, just in case I needed any more help, but didn’t stick around for me to change my mind. I walked him to the door and leaned my forehead against it after he left, listening to his footsteps retreating down the stairs with my hand still resting on the knob. Slowly, I took a deep, slow breath.
As much as I wanted to hate Zeph, there was something I wanted more. I wanted answers, to know why he had lied about this for so long. What did he possibly stand to gain from jerking me around like that? How could he have been living right across the hall all this time? Why hadn’t he intervened with Eldrick sooner? The questions streamed in my head, suffocating me. I needed answers, and I needed them now. Unfortunately, I knew I wasn’t going to get anything out of him other than undigested food at the moment.
Right now, he needed my help.
But that didn’t mean I had to be nice about it.
“Come on. We’re going to the bathroom,” I announced when I came back into the bedroom. I carried his nearly-full trashcan as I walked him to the en suite bathroom. He was so heavy I could barely manage on my own. I was silently grateful the bathroom was close by because if it had been a few more feet away, we both might have ended up lying in a pile of something extra gross on his bedroom floor.
I emptied the trashcan into the toilet, and flushed it before I bent him over it so he could throw up again. Each time he heaved, it was so violent it made his body shudder. I couldn’t watch.
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