by Jo Holloway
She signaled she was done, and they all rushed from their seats. Emma and August were the only girls wearing the team shirts with the gold band across the shoulders. Five more girls would be receiving them on the way off the bus.
Cara peered up the aisle, standing on her tiptoes to try to see to the front. Another senior girl waved a shirt over her head as she reached the steps and passed Coach. Cara broke into a grin for Anthony, now a junior, when he got handed one for the boys’ team and jumped so high, he nearly hit his head on the roof. Two junior girls ahead of Emma received shirts. Then Emma passed Coach in the aisle, and Cara had to glance back over her shoulder to see who was being handed the next shirt being held out. The girl behind her was a freshman. That seemed unlikely. The shirt pressed against her arm, and she turned back to Coach’s smiling face.
“Congratulations, Cara.”
Cara stepped off the bus in a daze, clutching her new shirt in a clammy fist.
The race was a blur. She got the fifth and final scoring position for their team. She never wanted to take this sweaty team shirt off; it felt so good.
Her mom jumped up and down when she spotted her. She clearly didn’t mind the sweaty shirt, either. Or at least, it didn’t stop her from practically picking Cara up in a hug.
“Look at this,” Sandra exclaimed, brushing her hand across the gold band on Cara’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.”
Cara had to look away from her mom’s shining eyes so her own didn’t cloud over with moisture. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Come on. I’m taking you out to celebrate. It’ll be a whole weekend of celebrations.”
HER MOM DROVE HER BACK to school on Sunday afternoon. Wes and Jory met her at the parking lot, with Jenner beside them. Her dog rushed to greet her, jumping up with his tail whipping back and forth. Her laughter came out easily. All the worries over their secret plan were temporarily suspended.
“Congratulations.”
“Nice one, Ransome.” Jory gave her a high five. “So what’d you get for your birthday?”
They’d already messaged her their congrats on Friday when she’d told them about making the team. Celebration number two that weekend had been for her birthday. “I already got my new shoes from my uncle, and my mom gave me a few new shirts. And next time I’m home, Aunt Marj is going to take me to get my license. She’s been taking me driving since I got my learner’s.”
“So jealous . . .” Jory grinned. “Can’t wait till my birthday.”
On Monday, Cara turned sixteen.
Cassidy had taken it upon herself to tell every sophomore this year, so Cara was inundated by people wishing her a happy birthday in every class. When she went to put away her tray after lunch, she ran into Rhys, who also quietly wished her a happy birthday.
“How did you—”
“Wes,” he said.
“Oh.” She probably should have said thanks instead. “If you ever want—um, if you’re not embarrassed to be seen with us, or whatever—you’re always welcome to come sit with us.”
She shoved her tray into the rack to avoid eye contact. Emma made it look easy, but this grace thing was going to take some more practice. She walked away so he wouldn’t feel obliged to answer.
By the following week, they’d gathered everything they needed. The little space at the end of the garage had transformed into a science lab. They’d scrubbed all the surfaces as clean as they could and set up all the borrowed equipment. A bench along one side was littered with textbooks, and Jory crouched against the wall, methodically going through them again. He’d been studying them even more than Wes.
Rhys had driven into Portland for the weekend to visit Liv, as he had every weekend. He came back each time with a fierce, blazing look in his eye, but never said much beyond a quick update. There’d been no change in her condition.
He hadn’t taken her up on her offer to sit with them yet, but here at his house, he always seemed a little happier than when they crossed paths on campus. Whether it was because here they were actively doing something to help his sister, or because he felt more comfortable at the manor, she wasn’t sure. She sometimes caught a soft, almost content look on his face, hidden behind the obvious strain and worry.
Wes groaned, snapping her out of her daydream.
“What?”
Jory looked up too.
Wes held up the flask of brown sludge for them to see.
“Again?” Cara sighed. Their early attempts to follow the instructions were not going great.
“Have we tried the seventy percent ethanol yet? This one says seventy, but that other one said ninety. We should try both and see what works better.” Jory had his face buried in three different books now.
“Yeah, we will. Cara, can you blend up some more foxglove?”
She grabbed some more of the plant and added it to the blender. She spooned out some pulp for Wes to start over and quietly crossed her fingers. The journals and articles on the extraction method had all sounded straightforward with the right equipment and supplies, but it was proving difficult in their makeshift lab. The day of failures was an unwelcome reality check.
That morning, they had hurried along the path, chatting about how to go about this. Each time they started over, she struggled not to picture Rhys’s dejected face reading a text message from Wes saying they’d failed again. The three of them trudged back to school at dinnertime in silence. There was nothing to do but go back the next day and keep trying.
Rhys showed up late Sunday afternoon as they were about to give up again. He brought in a new jug of distilled water.
“I brought dinner, too, if you guys want to stay a little longer.” He set the jug down on the counter.
Wes must have messaged him that they were still there. Cara’s stomach growled at the mention of dinner. The snacks they’d brought from the school were long gone.
They traipsed out of the garage. A cool breeze swept over her as soon as she stepped outside. The air had a new crispness to it that hadn’t been there before, and she shivered as goosebumps rippled across her bare arms. The inside of the garage had held the summer heat, and the chill was unexpected. It was starting to smell like autumn. Jenner stood up from the patch of soft lawn where he’d been sleeping while they worked, and shook his body, sending loose bits of grass flying.
“Did you have any more success today?” Jenyx asked.
“Not yet,” Cara replied. “But we’ll keep trying.” The look on Rhys’s face made sure of that. They couldn’t give up after only two days.
He led the way up to the house, pausing at his van to grab the takeout food he’d picked up. Underneath the worry, a glimpse of that happier look peeked through as she followed him up to the front door. He did love being here, even when most of him was still with his sister back in town. It was obvious for someone who noticed the little signs.
“I THINK IT WORKED.” Wes held up the vial of clear liquid with triumph radiating across his face.
The turn in weather meant they were all wearing sweaters in the garage now, and it was well past dinner on Wednesday. They’d missed meals, fallen behind on homework, and run full tilt along the path to make it back before curfew the last few nights, but it would be worth it if this worked.
“You think or you know?” Rhys watched him with narrowed eyes.
“I’m pretty sure, but we’re going to have to sneak into the chemistry lab at school to do a rough titration. Couldn’t steal some of that equipment.”
Jory nodded. “Otherwise, we won’t know how much to give her. The books gave us a good idea of how much we should have from that amount of digitalis plant, but a little bit of confirmation would make me feel better, even if it’s not exact.” All his studying was showing.
“It’ll have to be tomorrow. We’d better get back.” Cara looked up from the watch on her wrist.
“I’ll keep that safe.” Rhys reached out a hand to take the vial from Wes. “I’m going to stay here tonight, but I’ll bring it for tomorr
ow.”
Wes tightened the lid on the vial and wiped down the outside before he took off his gloves and handed it to Rhys. “We’ll meet you at the science building at 8 p.m.”
The three of them set out with Jenner, breaking into a jog at the edge of the path. She paused to glance back over her shoulder before following the boys. Rhys stood in the dark recesses of the patio, watching them go. She took a sharp breath, turned, and ran after her friends. Falling twilight darkened the woods, but the trail was familiar to them by now, and they made it back in time to slip into their dorms with everyone else returning from evening activities.
The following night, they met up as arranged. Jory and Wes slipped through the door into the classroom while Cara and Rhys stood watch outside. His hand shook as he turned over the vial to Wes at the door. It was all they had. It had to be enough.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in there helping Wes?” Rhys asked her again.
She shook her head. “Jory hasn’t stopped reading those texts and articles. He’s the better choice.”
Of course, that left her standing in an empty hallway with Rhys for as long as it took her friends to do what they had to do. Since they were trying to be quiet, it was one long, awkward silence. Then footsteps echoed down the hall, and Mrs. Johansen rounded the corner.
Rhys kicked the door behind them twice, signaling to the others inside. In an instant, he grabbed her hand and took a couple steps away from the door.
“What are you two doing here?” asked the chemistry teacher as she closed the gap between them.
“Us? Nothing. We were just out for a nice walk, but we cut through the buildings since it got a bit cold out.” Rhys was a quick thinker. Impressive.
“What were you doing at my door?” Mrs. Johansen’s lips pursed as she looked at them sideways.
“That door?” Rhys glanced back over his shoulder. “I stopped to fix my shoe.”
Cara followed the teacher’s eyes as they tracked back to the door.
Please don’t decide to go in there. Think, Cara. Do something.
She giggled. A ridiculous, flirtatious giggle like she’d heard Cassidy do a hundred times. She lowered her face to look down at their joined hands. It didn’t hurt that she automatically blushed at how silly it sounded, or that the heat spreading up her arm from where Rhys held her hand kept the blush going. Thankfully, Mrs. Johansen appeared uncomfortable enough at the display that she grunted.
“Well, you should keep walking and return to your dorms. It’s almost curfew.”
“Yes, ma’am.” They stepped aside to let her pass, and she carried on down the hall and around the far corner.
Cara dropped his hand and exhaled. “Holy crap. That was scary.” She shook her shoulders out. “Ugh, I’ve never sounded so stupid in my life.”
Rhys smiled. He actually smiled. Then he chuckled. “Hey, it worked.”
Great, he was laughing at her. Wonderful. But she laughed too—a shaky, nervous laugh, but a laugh.
“Sorry for grabbing your hand like that,” he said.
“Hey, it worked.” She smiled and made her brain move past the tingling in her hand. “Let’s make sure those guys are done and get out of here before she comes back.”
There was no need. The door cracked open, and Jory peered out. “All clear?”
Rhys nodded. “Are we good?” He pointed at the vial in Wes’s hand as the two of them crept out the door.
“We’re good,” Wes confirmed.
They met up at the mansion as soon as classes ended the next day. Cara had told Delaney she was going home for the weekend. The Pyx were insistent on going with them, so the five of them—Cara, Jory, Wes, Jenner and Thomas—ran down the path.
They climbed into the van when Rhys pulled up, and headed for the city. Tension crowded the space. Cara could barely take a breath and couldn’t imagine what Rhys was feeling. His face was the stony mask she remembered from the gala and the first few times they’d tried to talk to him. The grey eyes were flat and hard, unreadable.
Jory had barely spoken all day, not that she and Wes were chatting much, either. Heavy weights rested on all their shoulders. The feelings from the Pyx were no different. The animals wouldn’t come into the hospital, but they’d wanted to be there. Rhys had brought the rest of the things they needed. The remaining frog was in the car in the glass case. Strangely, one of the cylindrical clay boxes Wes had made in pottery class sat near it on the floor of the van.
“Does this mean you finally got it the way you wanted? What’s it for?” Cara asked.
“Yeah, I think this one’s right,” Wes said.
Tomyx answered the rest. “It’s a pyxis.”
She turned around in the front seat. Rhys’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
“I thought a pyxis was always an animal, or at least something living. What do you mean?” she asked Tomyx.
“It is. But this is an additional layer that can hold a Pyx in their current pyxis.”
“Whoa. Why are we just learning about this now? Don’t you think that’s a big thing to keep from us?”
Jenner bumped her hand as Jenyx spoke. “We told you we would give you the information you needed, no more. There are things we cannot discuss, not even with Pyxsees. You are being entrusted with this secret because the current circumstance requires it. However, we do beg for your discretion in not telling anyone about it.”
“Present company excluded,” Tomyx added, allowing for Wes to relay the information to Jory.
“But you told Wes already?” She scowled.
“Only what he needed to know in order to make it,” Jenyx replied.
Wes leaned forward in his seat. “I would have told you, but I didn’t know what it did, either.”
His calm tone only served to irritate her more. “How does it work?”
“Organic matter is included in the clay as the vessel is formed. Any such additional layer around the Pyx, organic yet not living, will make movement more difficult. That alone can be enough, but this shape is also particularly effective—something discovered by early Pyxsees with the help of a group of Pyx wanting to prevent a terrible act in your ancient Greece. A story for another time, perhaps.”
“So the flowerpots and burlap I put around the frogs . . .” Rhys inquired from the driver’s seat.
“Accidental, yes, but apparently effective. They must have had enough organic matter in them to work.”
“But those weren’t the same shape as this. Why does the shape matter?” Cara asked.
She got no answer. Need to know only, apparently. Her arms folded across her chest.
“And the snails? They were further from the window than the frogs in the shed, but . . . oh, shells.” Rhys smacked the steering wheel.
“Another accident. Less reliable, but the combination of the added barrier with the extra distance to any other suitable pyxis seemed to have worked for you,” Jenyx replied.
She turned to Wes. “They told you about this? About how to make these?”
“Enough to know what to add to the clay and how to shape them—once I got the mixture right so it didn’t fall apart. I’m not exactly sure about the shape, but the cylinder means there aren’t any corners to be weak.”
The uncomfortable feeling she got out of nowhere told her he was probably right. Jenyx and Tomyx didn’t want to share more than they needed to, but they were sharing it with the smartest guy she knew, and thankfully, he wasn’t about to keep secrets from the rest of them.
“And this will be enough to keep her trapped? It just takes organic material around you to stop you from moving to a new pyxis?”
“Not exactly.” Jenyx spoke after a short hesitation. “While any organic matter will make movement more difficult, truly stopping a Pyx from moving through the barrier requires something special. It requires what we call remnants.”
Cara waited for an explanation. The air was tight with anticipation as they all felt the seriousness of the secrets Jenyx was reveal
ing to them. Even Jory picked up on the mood and waited in silence instead of asking for an update.
“A remnant is a piece of a pyxis who is currently inhabited by a Pyx.”
“Only one of us can occupy a host at a time. We share their consciousness, so there’s no room for more than one,” Tomyx added.
“Yes, precisely. Our presence infuses all parts of our hosts even if those parts become separated from the main body. Our very being is a collection of memories, experiences, and energy from our pyxides and the world around us. Any part of a pyxis we inhabit carries a remnant of that energy for the duration of our time together. In order to make an outer barrier truly impenetrable, it must contain some of those remnants so that no other Pyx can occupy it at the same time.”
“Wait,” Cara interrupted with a frown. “Are you saying when Jenner sheds, those hairs carry part of you with them? I’m not sure how I feel about you being all over my carpet.”
“It is simply energy. All things in this world are a collection of energy. But yes, that is essentially true. The downside is that, for a living pyxis, the protection lasts only as long as the Pyx remains. If I were to leave Jenner for any reason, he—and any bits of him lying around on your carpet—would no longer serve this purpose. Another Pyx would be free to inhabit him.”
Jenyx paused to let that sink in, and Cara’s stomach hardened at the thought of a different Pyx in Jenner. She’d grown attached to Jenyx in spite of his annoying habit of keeping secrets. Jenner wouldn’t be the same without him.
“For these clay barriers, we use something stronger. When a pyxis dies while still inhabited, their body becomes a remnant of the Pyx who remained with them until the end. That persists beyond death and the ash of a pyxis whose Pyx remained until death is the most powerful ward we can use. The power of such a remnant can never be undone because no other Pyx can inhabit that pyxis ever again. That is what is infused in the clay.”