by G. P. Ching
A murmur rose up from the students as the wild-haired woman unrolled an official-looking scroll.
“Did you know this was coming?” Jayden murmured to the group of students around him. No one answered.
“Paul Stewart, menagerie.” Paul cheered and everyone broke into applause. Everyone but Finn, who was wondering why Paul would be excited to join the troupe that had almost killed him.
“Amanda Tidwell, resilience.” More clapping.
“Finn Wager.” Finn’s head popped up. Had he been chosen for a troupe already? “Aerial.” The room broke into cheers, and he searched out Orelon who bowed his head slightly. Finn couldn’t believe it. He’d done it! He’d been chosen!
“Jayden Parker, pyro.”
Jayden pumped a fist in the air. “Yeah! Best troupe ever.” He crossed the room to give Fuse a high five.
“Wendy Matthews, aerial.” Wendy clapped and threw herself at Finn, who was more than happy to spin her around before letting her feet touch the floor again.
“Hope Laudner, resilience.”
“No,” Hope said under her breath. She recoiled into herself, her face paling.
Ms. D rolled up the parchment. “Congratulations. Those of you assigned, please report to your new troupe tomorrow in lieu of your regular schedule.”
“Wait,” Mike called out. “What about the rest of us? Jenny and me?”
Smoothing her suit jacket, Ms. D glanced at her fingernails before answering. “You two will continue your schedule as assigned. Your teachers need more time to assess your potential before offering you a place in their troupe. Work hard and pray that change occurs quickly.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Jenny’s blue-eyed stare dug into the headmistress.
Ms. D rolled her lips. “If it doesn’t, Mr. Ravenguard and Ms. Applegate will conduct extensive and personalized training until it does.”
The two sucked in a quick breath that was loud enough, in its duality, to drown out any other noises in the room. Everyone went still.
With two coughs into her hand, Ms. D straightened. “Hard work and an open mind can accomplish the miraculous. Don’t disappoint us.”
She bowed slightly and left the room, the other teachers trailing behind her.
Mike grabbed Finn’s upper arm. “You’ve got to help me. What’s your secret? How are you getting so good at this so fast?”
“So fast?” Finn said with a laugh. “I’ve been bleeding and bruised for weeks, the same amount of time you have.”
Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, you look like hell every dinner hour, but by morning you’re stronger than ever. All of you. What do you know that we don’t?”
She closed in around Finn, looking down her nose at him.
Mike pointed a finger at Finn’s face. “Jenny and I haven’t had roommates like you have. Are you guys working together at night? Practicing in your room or something?”
Jayden put a hand on Mike’s chest. “Hey, Finn hasn’t done anything you haven’t done. There’s no super-secret roommate thing going on. What would we do? We’re locked in there from dusk till dawn.”
“There has to be something.” Mike tapped his fist against his forehead. “Where do you go in the evenings?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Every so often, you leave dinner early and no one sees you again until the next day. Where do you go, Finn?”
Finn scratched the inside of his left arm where the binding spell began to burn.
“Nowhere.”
“Bullshit,” Mike said, getting in his face.
Finn had had enough. A thought came to him, sharp and heavy like a weapon, and he did not hesitate to wield it at his friend. He pushed Mike back a step. “Back off.” Squaring his shoulders, he faced the bigger boy head-on. “For as long as we’ve known each other, you’ve always been the best at everything: sports, school, girls. Everyone loves you. I was always happy for you. Always the supportive sidekick. Now, you’re angry because you believe I couldn’t possibly be better than you at anything without there being a trick to it. Isn’t that right?” Finn felt a tide of heat crawl up his torso. His shoulders tightened.
“That’s not what—”
“It’s exactly what you meant,” Finn snapped. “I’ve never been chosen for anything first in my life. But guess what, Mike? The rules are different here. I’m different here. I’m better here.”
Mike’s face fell. “I have always helped you. When things were reversed, I defended you. I made sure no one messed with you. You know I did, Finn.”
“And I will help you now, any way I can. But it’s not my fault you didn’t get chosen.” He looked between Jenny and Mike.
Jayden backed him up. “Yeah. Hey, we will practice with you guys every day if we have to. We’ll help you.”
Mike took a deep breath and blew it out.
“We stick together, right?” Finn asked, holding out his fist. Jayden held his up too.
After a long moment, Mike nodded and bumped his knuckles against Finn’s, then Jayden’s.
“You’re right,” Mike said. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“This place changes you,” Hope said to no one in particular.
Paul, who was eating at the table with Amanda, looked up from his plate. “That’s the point, isn’t it? You all came here to change. The harder you fall, the stronger you get.”
Amanda raised her glass in a mimed cheer before drinking the contents. As she set the glass down, her face went slack and her gaze drilled into Mike. “If you aren’t changing, you aren’t hurting enough.”
21
Night
Hope tapped her thumb against the windowsill, tense at the fading sunset. Finn was late coming back to their room again and wasn’t any more forthcoming than before about his whereabouts. While part of her was simply curious, a larger part was concerned for his well-being. Every human had his or her own life energy, something as a Healer she was acutely attuned to. Finn’s had changed since they’d been here. Then again, so had every other student’s, especially Amanda and Paul, whose energy was the equivalent of a buzzing mosquito. She could barely be in the same room with them.
Regardless, she had reason to worry. She was no closer to finding the source of the missing souls than her first day at Revelations. Oh, there was evil here. That much was obvious. But she wasn’t only looking for evil. Evil was everywhere. She was looking for a soul stealer. The sad fact was that, according to Gabriel, she might need Finn’s help at some point, which meant she needed to keep him safe.
Finn rushed through the door right before Ravenguard arrived to lock them in for the night. “Made it again, Wager,” the admissions counselor said, cocking one bushy gray eyebrow. The door closed and locked behind him.
“Finn, that was too close. Where have you been?” Hope asked.
He scratched the inside of his arm and plopped down on his bed. “What do you think Amanda meant today by what she said to Mike?”
Way to change the subject, Wager. “She said exactly what she meant.” Hope was intentionally curt. Why should she answer his questions when he wouldn’t answer hers?
“She said that Jenny and Mike didn’t hurt enough to change. What the hell does that mean? They’ve been in all the same classes as us.”
Hope folded her legs under her on the bed. It would serve him right if she ignored him, but against her better judgment and with a sigh and roll of her eyes, she answered. “Mike and Jenny were athletic and popular in their former high schools.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So. They were already in great shape and highly coordinated before they came here. The stressors that left someone like you bruised and almost broken barely injured them at all. Besides the minor bite in menagerie, when did you ever see Mike bleed?”
“Never. Even in pyro, it’s always me who gets scorched.”
“A muscle responds best when you stress it. No pain, no gain. This island takes your pain and uses it to ch
ange you. No pain, no change.”
Finn snorted. “That doesn’t make any sense. Mike started stronger and worked just as hard. He should be further ahead.”
“But he’s not. That’s not how it works here.”
“Are you suggesting there’s something in the air that rewards effort over genetics?”
Hope slouched. “It’s a theory. I don’t honestly know how it works, but I don’t think the island rewards effort. It rewards pain. Mike put forth the same effort. You felt more pain.”
“The island doesn’t think or feel anything. It doesn’t reward anything. It’s a hunk of rock in the Atlantic Ocean. What you mean is that the teachers notice the pain. Explains why you were chosen for resilience. You could take more from the very beginning.”
She didn’t say another word, but the truth of the matter struck her fully, becoming real. It was the island. She could feel it in her bones. It was like it had its own heartbeat. The island itself was the key. The reason she was having trouble adapting was precisely because this place wasn’t normal.
“What’s wrong with you?” Finn asked. “You look like you’re going to be sick again.”
“Do you believe in purpose and destiny?”
“Not particularly. I believe in consequences. We’re all here because actions have consequences. We did bad things and now we’re paying the price.”
The hair on the back of Hope’s neck stood on end. She had not committed the crime she was here for. Had Finn? “Oh, like when you burned down that school. You’re here for arson.”
“I didn’t burn down the school,” Finn said.
“So, why are you here? We’ve never talked about it.”
He turned on his side and propped his head up in his hand. “Since you asked, here’s what happened. We broke into the school, but not to burn it down.”
“Then why?”
“A prank. We were filling a hallway with balloons in our school’s colors. It was harmless. A way to burn time before Christmas break.”
“But instead you burned the school?”
“No. There was a man, a stranger; he started it.”
“A strange man just randomly showed up where you happened to be and started a fire?” Hope was careful to keep disbelief in her voice, but inside her muscles stiffened. She believed every word Finn said.
“Yes.”
“What did he use to start the fire?”
“A lighter.”
“Did they find the lighter? Maybe it has his prints on it.”
“It was Jayden’s brother’s lighter. He’d been smoking. And only Vox’s prints were on it.”
“What did the man look like?” Hope listened as Finn described the man in detail, her heart growing heavy with every word. “The police didn’t believe you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Finn cleared his throat. “Don’t laugh.”
Softly, she said, “I promise I won’t.”
“Because each of us saw a different person.”
Her breath caught. This was it, the clue she’d been waiting for. As far as she knew, only a demon could change his or her identity like that. The man Finn saw had to be Damien, the one and only fallen angel left after the last great battle between good and evil. But why? Why frame children to send them here? And how did it play into the mystery of the lost souls?
“So… a strange man framed you for a crime you didn’t commit and when you were convicted, an even stranger man invited you to this island, one you’d never heard of, where you are forced to do agonizing things and are isolated from your family and community?”
“Exactly.”
“And you don’t believe in destiny and purpose?” Hope lowered her chin and looked him in the eye. She’d said too much. It wasn’t her business what he believed.
Finn’s face tightened. “My mom died when I was born.”
Hope was startled by his blunt response. “I’m sorry.”
“She found out she had cancer when she was pregnant with me and wouldn’t get treatment because she didn’t want to hurt me.”
“Oh Finn.”
“What could possibly be the purpose in that?”
Hope stared across the dark room at her new friend. “I lost both my parents when I was born. They were killed… murdered. I survived and was adopted by friends of theirs.”
“I’m sorry,” Finn said sadly.
“So I guess we have that in common,” she said.
“Sucky thing to have in common,” he said.
“We could say it was onion rings.” She laughed. “We could both love onion rings. Then we’d have something fun in common.”
“Deal. I do love a good fried onion.”
“Where have you been going after dinner every night?” she asked point-blank. “You’ve said you can’t tell me, but I’m worried about you.”
He shook his head. “I can’t talk about it. It’s nothing bad. It’s just a secret.” He paused, his hand burrowing under his pillow. “What did you do to get sent here anyway?” Finn asked.
There was a long pause. “A girl who looked like me was videotaped selling heroin to a minor.”
Finn let out a long whistle.
“It was a case of mistaken identity. I came to Revelations on a plea bargain.”
“There’s someone out there who looks exactly like you?”
“Three boys saw three different people start a fire?”
“Touché.”
“Finn, whatever you’re doing that you can’t tell me about, be careful. This place changes people. I haven’t met one adult here I trust. We need to stick together in case something really bad happens.”
“It’s not like you don’t have your own secrets,” Finn said. “Ms. Reiki Master, who heals herself and talks to birds.”
Hope became acutely aware that despite her frustration with Finn withholding information, she had more than a few secrets of her own.
“How about this? We accept that there are things we can’t share with each other, but we promise to help each other if something really bad happens. You’re my friend, Finn. We need to trust each other.”
Finn propped himself up on his elbow and looked her in the eye. “Deal.”
22
Clowns
Finn woke from the deep recesses of sleep quite suddenly. No sound, no breeze, no flicker of light caused his waking, but a general feeling of unease, a ripple of dread that yanked him from his slumber like there was a bungee cord tied to his belly button. He cracked his eyelids in the dark and held perfectly still. Someone was in his room, leaning over Hope’s sleeping body, a dark figure, a break in the continuity of her white duvet.
The moon cast watery light between their beds, but even with his eyes adjusted to the dark, he couldn’t tell who or what lingered at her side. Only when a hand reached out toward Hope’s head did the outline of a white glove become evident, followed by a striped shirt and suspenders.
Clown. Finn tensed beneath the covers, keeping his breathing shallow and even.
The clown pinched one of Hope’s hairs between his fingers and plucked it from her head. Silent. Quick. Easy. Hope’s deep and even sleep continued undisturbed. Finn held his breath, terrified he might be next.
With Hope’s hair gripped like a prize, the white-faced freak pivoted on its oversized shoes and silently slipped from the room. Finn waited until the door was completely closed to rise from his bed and follow. What the hell was that thing doing with Hope’s hair? For that matter, what had the clown done with Wendy’s blood?
He jostled the doorknob. Locked. Stealthily, he cracked his drawer and removed his cards. “Unbind,” he whispered. Click. The knob turned; the door gave way. With a furtive peek into the hall, he caught a flash of black and white disappearing into the back stairwell that led to the library.
Finn’s bowels went watery as he stepped into the hall. He thought about turning back; everything inside him threatened to evacuate his chosen course with or without his p
ermission. Even if he hadn’t promised his father he’d fly under the radar and keep his nose clean, being in the hall after curfew was both risky and unintelligent. Still, Hope was his friend and Wendy was… more. Someone needed to uncover what the clowns were up to with the hair and the blood and what was behind what happened to Amanda and Paul. Considering his new abilities and his relationship with Theodor, he was the only one to do it. This could be his one chance to learn the secrets of this school. He had to take it.
He slipped into the hall, drawing on his lessons from aerial class to make his feet as light as possible. A flash of black and white descended the staircase. He followed. One flight, then two, into the subterranean levels of Revelations castle. The dimly lit hall the clown entered had no windows and only a few buzzing fluorescent lights that blinked like the bulbs needed replacing. Finn took cover in an open doorway.
The clown approached the end of the hallway and passed a gloved hand in front of a sconce. With a slight rumble, the wall slid away, revealing the faint blue glow of a secret passageway. As the clown ambled over the threshold, its lanky body bobbing with each step, the rumble began again. Now or never.
“Extinguish,” Finn whispered, touching the card to his arm. He was almost surprised when his skin blurred, his flesh taking on a ghostly appearance. He’d practiced the ignite/extinguish spell enough times, but never on himself. Like a shadow, he slipped through the closing panel and pressed into a dark corner of the passageway beyond. The clown didn’t seem to notice him. It turned at the end of the long corridor and vanished from sight. Finn shivered, getting his bearings.
He scrubbed his face with both hands. This was by far the dumbest thing he’d ever ventured to do. Who did he think he was, some kind of hero? He was clearly out of his league here. He had half a mind to turn back, return to his room and crawl back under the covers. But curiosity forced him forward.
