How to Make Friends and Not Incinerate People
Page 15
Aiden lost his hold on the flame. “What are you talking about?”
The words caught in his throat. No way would Aiden understand what had to be done. Dylan wasn’t killing the wardens himself, but he would be an accessory to murder. “It doesn’t matter. I want you to come with me.”
Aiden looked confused and a little scared. “Where?”
“Anywhere. We’ll be free.”
“Dylan, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds like a bad idea.”
Dylan stood, fists clenched at his sides. “I just… need to get out. To finally get out of here, to get somewhere with no rules, no one able to stop me.”
“You can’t leave. The wardens—”
“They won’t be around.” The need to be free filled him, making his chest tight. He’d spent whole life in this cage.
“Dylan, what are you planning?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” No one ever could, because no one else had this desire aching inside them. Not even his mom. “I wanted you to come with me; I thought maybe you could understand…”
“Maybe I can if you tell me.” Aiden’s eyes were pleading, but he stank of fear.
He almost did. He opened his mouth to explain everything. But then he imagined Aiden running to the wardens, tattling on Dylan. If they knew what he was doing, they’d lock him up. Or kill him. “You’re too much of a wimp to understand. You cried when you hit a bully by accident. You use me as your weapon because you don’t have the balls to fight anyone yourself.”
Aiden’s expression turned hard. “You liked getting in fights with Conner—”
“Exactly. We’re too different.” Trying to be Aiden’s friend was stupid. He should have known it was doomed to failure from the start. “Maybe that’s why your parents abandoned you, because you’re too weak.”
Aiden looked like he’d been punched. Then his face crumpled and his eyes filled with tears. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” Dylan’s stomach twisted with guilt, but that didn’t stop him. He wanted to drive him away. All his doubts about the plan with Morgan led back to Aiden. Having a friend was holding him back. He wanted to be free, finally free to be who he really was. “You’re weak. You’re a weak little crybaby afraid of your own magic, and I don’t need you.”
“Fine.” Tears spilled out of Aiden’s eyes. “Everyone was right about you. I should’ve stayed away.”
“You can start right now,” Dylan growled.
Aiden’s chin quivered and he looked like he was going to say something, then he turned and ran.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Being threatened by Conner Mays was nothing compared to this. When he’d run as far as he could, Aiden slowed down to catch his breath and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t. His birth parents had left him for a good reason. He just didn’t know what it was yet.
They hadn’t abandoned him because he was weak. They hadn’t traded him for a human child because anything was better than keeping Aiden. No.
Dylan was a jerk. An asshole. No wonder he didn’t have any friends. Aiden had been his only one. “I hope you’re happy to be alone again,” Aiden muttered as he wiped at his face again.
And what was all that about the wardens not being around to stop Dylan from leaving Shadow Valley? Something very wrong was going on. Aiden thought about telling his parents, but they wouldn’t have any clue what to do. But he had to tell somebody.
He remembered Mr. Johnson telling him to call if he had any problems. This was definitely a problem. Aiden pulled out his phone, feeling a dark satisfaction as he thought about tattling on Dylan. It would serve that jerk right to get in trouble for whatever stupid thing he was planning.
The number was saved in his contacts and he dialed. The phone ran a few times, and he got to voice mail.
“Hi, Mr. Johnson? It’s Aiden. You said to call if I had any problems, so I’m calling. Dylan is up to something, but I don’t know what it is. He wouldn’t tell me. He said he’s planning to leave Shadow Valley, and he said there wouldn’t be any wardens to stop him. Maybe it’s just talk, but he was acting like a huge jerk, and I think he might do something stupid. I thought maybe you’d know what to do, so call me back.” He waited a second but couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he hung up.
When he got to the house, his mom said, “You’re home early.”
“I was getting too cold.” He hated lying to her, but he just couldn’t talk about it. Aiden went up to his room and lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Replaying the whole ugly event in his head made him want to cry again. What Dylan had said was cruel, and he was afraid it might be true. Ever since he’d found out he was a changeling, Aiden had wondered why his birth parents had left him. Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe it was because he was weak or there was something wrong with him.
If he really thinks I’m so weak, why is he friends with me? Or had Dylan been hoping Aiden would get stronger, and now he was frustrated to find Aiden really wasn’t like him? Aiden didn’t like that he wasn’t human. He didn’t like using his magic because it was a constant reminder that he was different. It had gotten better, and he even enjoyed some of the spells he could do. But if someone told him he could give up his magic in exchange for being human? He’d do it.
Dylan struggled with how he’d gotten his powers, but he loved them.
And what was all that about leaving and not having to worry about wardens? The way Dylan had acted scared him. He’d been like that before, with the girl he used to date, and with Conner, but Dylan had never directed that anger at Aiden. Not until tonight.
Aiden rolled onto his side, tucking his knees up. Why had he been so mean? Because Aiden hadn’t agreed to come with him? Because he was worried about what Dylan was planning?
It suddenly hit him that he’d called Mr. Johnson. A warden. Told him Dylan was planning something bad. Would Mr. Johnson show up and take Dylan to jail or whatever version they had here?
Then his stomach sank as he wondered: would Mr. Johnson kill Dylan? Everyone kept talking about how dangerous he was, that Dylan was too powerful, that he shouldn’t even be allowed to go to school or live in Shadow Valley.
Were the wardens waiting for something like this, a reason to get rid of him?
Aiden pulled out his phone and called Mr. Johnson again. Still no answer, just voice mail. “Hi, Mr. Johnson. It’s Aiden again. I was upset and I… I wasn’t really thinking. Just ignore the last message I sent you. I overreacted, and it’s no big deal, really. Call me and I’ll explain.” Although he had no idea how he would explain it. Lie, if he needed to.
He hung up and stared at the phone. That might not be enough. He had to warn Dylan. No matter how much of a jerk he was or what he was planning, Aiden didn’t want him dead.
Dylan didn’t answer, either. “Hi, it’s Aiden. I… I did something and I’m really sorry. You freaked me out and I’m worried about what you might do so I…” Aiden swallowed. Dylan would probably hate him for this. “I called Mr. Johnson and said you were planning something. I’m really sorry. I’ll find a way to fix this, tell him it was a lie, anything. Please call me back. Please.”
Aiden hung up and squeezed his eyes shut. What if Dylan didn’t listen to the message? What if he deleted it because he was pissed? What if Mr. Johnson had already listened to his first message and was on his way here right now?
What if Dylan was doing whatever stupid thing he was planning right now?
Aiden went downstairs and pulled his coat back on. “Hey, Mom? Dylan asked me to go over and hang out at his house for a while, is that okay?”
She came around the corner from the living room. “Weren’t you just with him?”
“Yeah. I left because it was cold, but he decided he wanted to hang out some more.” The lies made his chest feel tight.
“Okay, sure. Do you need a ride?”
He needed to check the gravel pit first to see if he was still there. “No, that�
�s fine. His mom is picking us up from the gravel pit. Dylan stayed there since the cold doesn’t bother him. Because of his magic, you know.” So much lying in such a short time.
“I could give you a ride to the gravel pit.”
“No thanks, it’s fine.”
“Okay. Have a good time.”
Aiden hurried out of the house and jogged down the sidewalk. He hoped this was all nothing, that he was overreacting, that he’d be able to convince Mr. Johnson that nothing was wrong.
The fire at the gravel pit was now little more than embers, and Dylan was gone. The next logical place, the only place he knew where to look, was Dylan’s house. The trip there was longer, and by the time Aiden got to the house he was cold. He shivered while he rang the doorbell.
Dylan’s mom answered the door. “Hi, Aiden. Is something wrong?”
“Do you know where Dylan is? We… we had a fight, and he won’t answer his phone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She frowned. “I haven’t seen him since he left earlier, but maybe I didn’t hear him come back in. Dylan?” she called a few times with no answer. “Let’s go check his room.”
On the way up, she asked, “What did you fight about?”
“Just something stupid.” He didn’t want to tell her, not until he’d talked to Dylan. He’d already made a mistake by calling Mr. Johnson.
Dylan wasn’t in his room. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where he might have gone. Did you check the gravel pit?”
“Yeah, I went there first. Let me call him again.” Aiden dialed and listened while it rang. Pick up, Dylan. Pick up! Nothing. Voice mail again. Aiden hung up.
“I’ll tell him to call you when I see him,” Dylan’s mom said.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Aiden followed her downstairs.
“I hope you two can make up. You’re the only real friend he’s ever had.”
Then why was he such a jerk to me? Aiden didn’t want to make up. He just wanted to warn him. Maybe later, if Dylan was sorry, he’d forgive him. “Thanks.” Aiden didn’t know what else to say.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started walking down the long driveway. The light from the front of the house cast a glow, but beyond its reach it was dark. There was no moon tonight, and after leaving the driveway, he needed a light spell to see by.
It always took him a few tries to get it started, but in a moment the blue-white light of the spell let him see enough to walk by. The little ball cast no warmth as he carried it in his hand. He wished he had a better mastery of fire so he could have both heat and light.
What was he going to do about Dylan? He pulled out his phone to check, but there were no messages from Dylan or Mr. Johnson. His stomach twisted again as he worried about what he might have started.
The blue-white light bounced off the fresh layer of snow. Near the end of the long driveway, he saw little indentations. Leaning closer, he made out bird tracks. Tracks. Dylan would have left tracks on the way out of the pit. Aiden ran most of the way back, stopping once to catch his breath. First he found his own tracks, comparing the markings to the bottom of his shoes. Then, squinting in the faint light, he found the other set of tracks coming out of the pit.
They went along for a while until they reached the sidewalk. Most people were good about shoveling, but a few neglected it and some hadn’t gotten around to clearing the inch or so that had fallen since yesterday. Aiden was able to pick out Dylan’s tracks, although at times they were tangled with those of others, including Aiden’s own.
Why hadn’t he thought of this before? And before he’d gone very far, it was clear where the tracks were going. Dylan had gone back home. Aiden hurried back, thinking maybe he’d admit to Dylan’s mom what was going on, even if it caused more trouble.
Then he looked at the trees all around him. Dylan had mentioned going for walks in the woods behind his house. Maybe he’d gone out there to be alone.
Aiden hurried around the side of the house and started searching the tree line out back. It didn’t take him long to find fresh tracks, almost in a direct line from the back door. Aiden stepped in the tracks to make the going easier, but it was still tough, tromping through the snow. The whole time he wondered how mad Dylan would be when he told him.
I’m going to fix this. It’s probably nothing. Dylan was just talking, and I’ll tell Mr. Johnson we were fighting and I got upset and exaggerated. Everything will be fine.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Dylan carried the glass jar tucked under his arm, walking through snow that melted a little with every step. I don’t need anyone, he kept repeating to himself. He was done. Done with school, done with everyone treating him like a bomb that might go off, done with this town. Done with Aiden.
It would have been nice to have a friend with him. Dylan shook his head. Aiden would just have held him back. He would whine and tell him to stop, tell him it was wrong. Dylan wanted to be free, not bring some kind of Jiminy Cricket with him.
The only person who understood him was Morgan. He’d seen Dylan’s dreams, the darkest part of him. And he wanted to help. Of course the dark fae was looking out for his own interests, but as he’d said, this was mutually beneficial.
Dylan reached the clearing, the whole area two feet deep in snow. Setting the jar down carefully, he stepped into the circle and used his power to heat the ground. Steam rose as the snow melted, hissing. A thick fog covered the area for a few minutes. When it faded, the clearing was free of snow, covered now with wet, brown grass and leaves.
The fae had repeated the instructions three times, twice the other night and again last night, to make sure Dylan remembered. He did. The symbols were clear in his mind. Pointing a finger, he summoned a small flame and used it to burn a circle around the entire grove. Then he carefully etched the symbols into the ground.
Now I will trust you with something very important, the dark fae had said. When you call me, you must use my true name—Morfran ap Nos.
A fae’s true name and a potion made from dragonkin blood. This spell was no joke.
Dylan went back for the glass jar, and as he picked it up, he heard a noise. He froze, cocking his head. Crunching, someone walking through the snow. Had his parents seen him leave? Had they followed him?
Then he saw a faint blue-white light through the trees. Not the kind of spell his mom would use. “Who’s there?” he demanded.
“It’s Aiden.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Aiden appeared through the trees, carrying a light spell. “I came to tell you—” His eyes went wide. “What is that?”
“What?” Then Dylan realized he was holding the glass jar with the blood potion in it.
Aiden came closer, staring. “Is that blood?” His voice was almost a whisper.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Dylan growled. Not when he was so close. He couldn’t have Aiden interfering, screwing things up.
“Dylan, what are you doing?” He kept coming.
With a flick of his hand, Dylan spread fire around the circle. It shouldn’t mess up the spell, and it would keep Aiden out.
Aiden stumbled back, instinctively holding a hand up to protect his face, dropping the light spell. The ring of fire reached up to his chest. “Whatever you’re doing, you have to stop.”
“No.” Dylan walked backward until he was in the center of the circle. He was protected now, so he could complete the rest of it. “I have to do this.”
Aiden looked around, his face pale in the firelight. “Oh God. We’re close to the barrier, aren’t we?”
“This is where he said to do it, close to all that powerful magic.” Dylan opened the jar and dropped the lid. The power inside hummed, and his chest tightened with anticipation.
“Who said?” Aiden looked terrified.
“Morgan or—” He stopped himself. Using his true name would call him, and Dylan wasn’t quite ready for that part yet. “He’s going to open the pathways to Faery so he can come through. He’s
going to take care of the wardens so I can be free.”
“Oh God. Dylan, no! You can’t trust him! He’s dark fae. He’ll lie. He’ll trick you.”
“We have a mutually beneficial agreement.” Dylan tipped the jar, pouring out the blood potion. It splattered onto the ground and started soaking in. The closest symbol lit up red; then the others started lighting up. The hum of power doubled, tripled. It was unnerving to be in the middle of all that growing power. Unnerving, but also thrilling.
“Dylan, stop, please! You don’t want to do this.”
Dylan looked at him for a moment as the last of the symbols lit. He acknowledged that pang of sadness that had been lurking in the back of his mind. “I really did want you to come with me. You were my best friend.” But that was over now. He took a deep breath. “Morfran ap Nos, I summon you. With the power of my blood, I summon you. Morfran ap Nos, hear my call. I summon you. Morfran ap Nos, come forth.”
* * *
Aiden was so afraid he worried he might throw up. Uncle—it had to be him. The blood magic. This is what he’d been trying to get Aiden to do. Now Dylan was doing some kind of spell to bring Uncle or whatever his name was over from Faery.
The pathways open, all the power let loose. All that magic that had been locked away to keep the human world safe.
Aiden had to stop this. He looked at the fire, wondering if he could jump over it. No way—it was too high, even if he got a running start. But he remembered their matches in Major Magical Control. He’d been able to put out Dylan’s fire.
He tried to focus, but his heart was racing and he was shaking with fear. I can do this, he told himself. I have to do this. Aiden calmed himself as much as he could, trying to ignore the huge swell of power building in the circle. Trying not to think about how scared he was, how he couldn’t believe Dylan would go this far.
The little tingle started in his chest as he called on his magic. Careful. Focused. Aiden spread his hands and summoned wind. A small gust cut through the flames, and he only hesitated a second before running through the gap.