by Tanya Huff
“Why, yes I am.” Amy smiled broadly, insincerely, and threateningly. “Thank you for noticing. Your father is waiting for you on the sound-stage and…”
“Is Mason there?” Ashley interrupted, having taken a careful step back from the desk.
“He is.” And star of the show or not, Mason would be sacrificed for the greater good.
“Then I’m going in to see him.”
“Happy days. And Tony is in your father’s office waiting for you,” she told Brianna as Ashley rolled up her uniform skirt another inch and left for the sound-stage.
“She thinks Mason likes her, but Mason thinks she’s a creepy little girl,” Brianna snorted.
“Mason’s not usually such a good judge of character.”
“My familiar died.”
“Again? Girl, you’re hard on crickets.”
“I need something sturdier.”
“Why do you need a familiar at all?”
Brianna stared at her for a long moment, brows drawn in to a deep vee over her nose. “Because,” she said at last.
Amy nodded, a little unnerved by how well she was getting along with CB’s younger daughter. “Not a good reason, but it’ll do.”
*
“Come on, Brianna, concentrate. A wizard has to learn to focus before they can learn to do anything else.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the first lesson.”
“You never started at the first lesson.”
“I’m not eight.”
“Nine!”
“Whatever. The point is…” Tony cut off his I’m a grown-up and you’re a little girl speech as Brianna’s eyes narrowed. That was never a good sign. “Look, it’s important that you learn this right, because someday I may need you to fix something I’ve screwed up.”
“That’s what’s in it for you. What’s in it for me?”
“I won’t turn you into a smoking pile of ash and tell your father you did it to yourself by accident.”
“Oh. Okay then.” She sighed and slumped further down in the chair, kicking one foot against the desk. “My familiar died.”
“The bumble bee?”
“That was two familiars ago!”
“Sorry. The uh…”
“The cricket!”
“Right.” He sent a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening—and at this point he was pretty damned sure that there were gods listening—that CB keep refusing to get her a cat. “Bri, maybe you’re not meant to have a familiar.”
“Yes I am. It makes me feel…” She closed her lips tightly around what she felt.
Tony didn’t need her to tell him that it made her feel less alone. Because after all, he was the grown-up and she was the little girl. “Come on, Bri, focus your power in one spot.” He sketched a sparkling blue circle in the air. “You can do this.”
“I want a wand.”
“You don’t need a wand.”
“I want a wand.”
“Use your finger.” He sighed. “Use a different finger.”
*
CB had his daughters one weekend a month and three days a week after school. He gave them free run of his studio, had his people supervise their homework—and in Brianna’s case the word homework had taken on a whole new meaning—and at some point in there, he saw that they were fed. Sometimes, when Ashley refused to be parted from Mason Reed, they ate from the catering truck. Sometimes, when volume won out over his patience and they swore an oath to never tell their mother, they ate fast food with one of the writers. Sometimes, they went to nice restaurants so he could show his beautiful daughters off to the world.
Over, the years, he’d learned that enough money excused anything up to and including biting the waiter.
“Tony won’t teach me to blow things up,” Brianna complained, pushing the last of her smoked salmon and spinach fettuccini around the bowl. “He won’t teach me to do anything good.”
“Tony’s just doing what Daddy tells him,” Ashley sniped.
CB winced as his youngest narrowed her eyes. His eldest was obviously still annoyed at having to leave Mason. “I’m sure Mr. Foster will teach you to blow things up when he thinks you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now!”
“Oh yeah, like you’re so ready to be trusted, Cheese. You can’t even keep a cricket alive!”
Copper-coloured sparks danced on the end of Brianna’s fork. “You’ve got one of Mason’s socks in your back pack!”
“Girls, indoor voi…”
“Liar!”
“Am not! You’re pathetic, Ashes!”
“Girls, don’t raise…”
“You don’t even know what pathetic means, you freak!”
Crushing the linen napkin in her fist, Brianna leaned forward, her eyes barely slitted open. “Mason thinks you’re creepy!”
“Daddy!”
“Twenty dollars each to keep your voices down.”
Ashley sniffed and Brianna looked mutinous, but they held out their hands. As CB passed out the money, he could feel the restaurant staff breathe a sigh of relief. Fortunately, they were too early for the crowds, and the only other diners had been seated as far away as possible. Over the years, he’d also learned that it was best to show his beautiful daughters off to a little bit of the world at a time.
Ashley sniffed again and stuffed the bill in her pocket. “I’m going to the ladies room.”
CB moved to block her way. “What do you do if someone approaches you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Scream blue murder, and if it’s a guy, kick him in the nuts so hard his eyeballs bleed.”
“Good girl.”
“I’d blow him up if Tony’d teach me,” Brianna muttered as her sister crossed the restaurant, pinging the empty water glasses with a fork as she passed.
“He’ll teach you someday.”
“Promise.”
“Yes.” He beckoned the waiter over with the check. Lingering was seldom a good idea.
“My cricket died.”
“So my driver informed me.”
“It made me very sad.”
He pulled out his pen to sign the bill. He usually took the girls somewhere he could run a tab in case of unexpected expenses.
“Very, very sad. Very, very, very sad.”
A tear trembled on her lower lashes, and he shuddered. “What will it take for you to feel better?”
Her gaze flickered around the table. “Your pen.”
“My pen?” He stared down at it. He’d had it specially carved from Brazilian rose-wood, had it made to fit his hand. Most pens were far too small for him to use comfortably. The gold inlay was eighteen carat.
A second tear trembled and her lower lip went out.
Tony Foster couldn’t teach her anything more dangerous than that.
He handed her the pen and said, without much hope: “Don’t tell your sister.”
*
Connie Neill hadn’t wanted to be a teacher, but she hadn’t wanted to starve either and teaching paid the bills. She tried not to resent the time it took from her real work, from the great literature she could create if only the world supported talent as it should. She was less successful at not resenting the oh-so-privileged girls she taught, who would always have enough money to follow their muse should any of the spoiled brats ever find a muse willing to allow their…
The chalk snapped under her fingers and before she could stop herself, she’d drawn a jagged white line across the board.
When she reached for the brush, it fell from the shelf.
When she stepped back to retrieve it, she nearly tripped over her desk chair.
When she threw out a hand to save herself, she knocked a stack of books off the edge of her desk.
When she turned to face her fifth grade math class, all but one of the girls was laughing. Brianna Bane was chewing on the end of an oversized pen and staring at the floor. No, not staring, watching something run along the base of the far wall.
Oh, b
loody wonderful, she thought as she picked up a fresh piece of chalk and returned to the problem on the board. The last thing this dump needs is mice.
*
“Ashley, your freak sister is at it again, only this time she’s talking to the floor outside the science lab.
“I didn’t think you knew where the science lab was.”
Sandra’s lip curled at the lame response, evidence she’d thrown Ashley off her game. “It’s right next to your freak sister.”
*
The science lab was on the second floor at the front of the building. Brianna was on her knees in the hall outside the classroom door, ear to the floor. Ashley grabbed her arm, yanked her to her feet, and pushed her up against the wall before anyone else saw them. “Now, what are you doing?”
“I can hear something,” Brianna told her sulkily after a short, unsuccessful fight for freedom.
“You can what?”
“Hear something in the floor.” She looked down at the scuffed tile. “It’s a lot easier to hear from up here than downstairs.”
“Yesterday, you were listening to something in the ceiling?” When Brianna nodded, Ashley gave her a short, sharp, shake. “You said you were talking to your cricket!”
“I was! But I was listening to the ceiling!”
“Is it something… you know, weird?”
“You mean is it something freaky like me?”
“Yes.” A short shake for emphasis. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
“I think so.”
There was, unfortunately, no way she could lift both feet off the floor at the same time. “Is it something bad?”
Brianna shrugged. “I dunno.”
“That’s it.” Still holding her sister, Ashley headed for the stairs. “We’re calling daddy.”
“What can daddy do?”
“Send Tony.”
*
“Calling the men in the white coats to come and take away your freak sister?” Sandra called across the lawn.
“Calling the newspaper to report a Sasquatch roaming around,” Ashley yelled back. “You better hide before they get here.” She pocketed her phone and dragged Brianna over by the sidewalk. “Okay. We wait right here for him.”
Brianna’s lower lip went out, and for a moment, Ashley was afraid there’d be trouble. “She wouldn’t call me freak if she knew I was a wizard.”
Okay. Different trouble. “Yeah, she would, and you know it.” Ashley had a hundred cutting replies ready for “Your sister thinks she’s a wizard!” So far, she hadn’t had to use them. “You can’t tell people!”
“I know that, stupid-head!” One loafer kicked a muddy swath through the new spring growth. “It doesn’t matter, they wouldn’t believe me. I’m nine! Besides, there’s no point in telling people you’re a wizard until you can be a wizard.”
“Frustrating?”
Brianna’s sigh sounded a lot older than nine. “You have no idea.”
After a moment, Ashley moved closer and bumped the younger girl with her hip. “I’m sorry I called you a freak last night.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re sorry you said that Mason thinks I’m creepy.”
“Sure.”
From behind the hedge came Sandra’s distinctive laugh.
Ashley’s lip curled. “The moment you can blow things up…”
Brianna nodded. “She’s top of the list.”
*
In the final approach to The Nellie Parks Academy, Tony closed out his uplink and began to power down. It was always best to approach CB’s daughters with both hands free.
“They’re out there waitin’ for you, dude.”
He leaned around Theo, CB’s driver, and sighed. “Yeah. I see them.”
“Man, you must’ve acquired some powerful bad karma in your last life to get stuck babysitting those two in this one.”
“I hear you.” He snapped the laptop closed and zipped the case shut. “But I’m not the one locked in a car with them.”
“Yeah.” Theo snorted. “I hear that. I figure I was like a slave trader or something last life and that’s why little black girls are making this life a living hell.”
“But only three days a week.”
“So maybe I wasn’t one of them really bad slave traders, you know. Hey!” he called as Tony opened the door. “I can’t park here so you call me when you need me to come back.”
“And you’ll be…?”
“Off looking for better karma, dude.”
“Good luck with that.” Tony slammed the door, slung the computer case off his shoulder, and turned as the car drove away.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Ashley sneered.
He looked down at his classic and paint-stained The Apprentice sweatshirt.
“Thanks for dressing up,” she continued, through an impressively curled lip. “I thought gay guys were supposed to have taste.
“I thought little girls were supposed to be made of sugar and spice.” He smiled down at her. “Seems like we were both wrong.” And switching to a slightly more sincere smile, he turned to her sister. “What’s up, Bri?”
“Didn’t Daddy tell you? She’s hearing things in the floor!”
“Is your name Brianna too? That must be really awkward, both of you having the same name.”
“Bite me!”
“If only it wouldn’t get me fired. Bri?”
Arms folded over her uniform jacket, Brianna rolled her eyes. “I can hear something in the floor.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, do I?”
Tony sighed. “What can you hear?”
“Muttering and moving, and the muttering moves.”
CB had been quite clear that he was to deal with whatever it was Brianna had heard. “Well, let’s go have a listen shall we?”
“If you don’t quit patronizing me, you’re gonna be second on the list!”
Tony didn’t need to ask what list. Besides, he was impressed by a nine-year-old using patronizing correctly in a sentence. He couldn’t have done it when he was nine. “Sorry, Bri. Ashley’s call upset your dad and you know how he likes to share the joy.”
“He yelled.”
“He did.”
The three of them shared a moment, then Brianna sighed. “It’s not a big deal or anything. Ashley got all stupid.”
“Oh ‘cause hearing things in the floor is normal,” her sister muttered as they went inside the building.
The school smelled better than Tony remembered schools smelling.
“I sort of know it’s there all day,” Brianna explained on the way up the stairs. “But I can’t really hear it until most everyone leaves.”
“Does it sound angry?” he asked.
“More cranky.”
“Do things ever happen while you can hear it? Like, if you hear it in a room, do things happen in that room?”
“Things that aren’t supposed to happen? Like chalks breaking and books falling and that kind of stuff?”
“Yeah. That kind of stuff.”
“You know, if a teacher sees you, they’re not going to like it that you’re here,” Ashley pointed out as they reached the second floor.
“I’ll tell them I’m Brianna’s tutor.” Which was even the truth. When Brianna went to turn right, Tony reached out and turned her in the opposite direction. “No, it’s gone this way now.”
“You can hear it.” She made it more an accusation than a question.
“No. But unless there’s a lot going on behind the walls, there’s something this way. Come on. Ashley?”
Hands shoved into her jacket pockets, the older girl shook her head. “You guys go wandering. Do that weird stuff you do. I’ll wait here.”
“You’re sure?”
Her lip curled. “I don’t do weird.”
They walked slowly through the halls, Tony following the feeling that a bit of the world was cock-eyed, and Brianna sticking close by his side. After a while he noticed that they’d synch
ronized so perfectly he could only hear one set of footsteps.
Finally, Brianna poked his side. “Are you lost?”
“No.” He matched her near whisper. “Reach out. Can you feel it?”
“Reach where? And what am I s’posed to feel?”
“It’s hard to describe.”
“Totally not helpful!”
“Sorry.” Trouble was, most of his analogies weren’t particularly age appropriate. “Okay, concentrate and focus. Reach out and grope the world. It’s an orange, and you’re feeling for a seed.”
“I’m groping the whole world?”
“Not the whole world, just this part of the world.”
She frowned, stumbled, and would have fallen had he not grabbed for her. When she looked up at him, she was smiling. “I can feel a seed!”
“Because you focused and you concentrated.” A little reinforcement couldn’t hurt, although it didn’t look like she believed him.
The frown returned. “It’s really close. What is it?”
Good question. “It might be a Brownie.”
“Students aren’t allowed to be Brownies. The principal is always on a diet.”
“What does that…”
“The cookies.” Brianna interrupted impatiently. “If you have Brownies, you have cookies.”
It took Tony a minute to work that out. By the time he realized they were talking about two different things, it was past time to mention it.
A sudden burst of noise stopped them outside the music room. Side by side, they carefully peered through the glass at a choir practice.
“It’s in there,” Brianna muttered as one of the altos reached out to turn a page. Her music stand fell, and the whole row went crashing down.
“I think you’re right.”
The choir mistress’ baton snapped.
Brianna snorted. “I know I’m right.”
“Come on, I’ve seen enough. It’s a poltergeist,” Tony told her as they headed back to Ashley. “They like to hang around the uh… emotional turmoil of young girls.”
“So it’s not here because of me?”
“It might have come to this school instead of another school because of you. Your power might have attracted it.”
“Like you attracted that girl who tried to kill you by sucking your…”
“We aren’t going to talk about that,” Tony interrupted, ears burning. “We, you and me, we aren’t ever going to talk about that.”
