Everly wanted to say no. She knew she should say no. But something about the condescending smirk on the older boy’s face made her want to prove him wrong.
Darcy held up her hand and showed Everly her large pearl ring.
“If you’re a cadet, you get to try out the magical weapons in our arsenal and find the one that suits you best,” Darcy said. She aimed the pearl at the far wall, and it released a pure white light that was more powerful than Everly’s torch.
Darcy smiled at the wonder and longing on Everly’s face. “So what do you say?”
Everly didn’t respond right away. Her eyes drifted from the magic pearl to the golden trident and the silver netting. To be able to use magical weapons would almost be like having magic, she thought.
“I have kendo on Saturday mornings, but I’m free all afternoon,” Everly said slowly.
Darcy smiled in relief. “Great! Meet me in front of the theater at one p.m. tomorrow. I’ll take you to headquarters myself.”
“Fine, but I don’t want him coming!” Everly pointed at Cameron.
Cameron smirked back at her. “As you wish.” He banged his trident on the ground. Cameron and Darcy vanished as quickly as they had appeared.
Even though the mom and her baby had returned, Max was still watching out for the kids in the possum movie. Everly filled him in. Horrified, Max insisted that they go and tell his dads right away.
Being next-door neighbors with her best friend had always been really convenient for Everly. Since her parents were high-ranking federal officials who were always working, Max’s house was Everly’s second home.
Walking into Max’s living room, she saw a familiar scene. Adam, Max’s accountant father, was arguing with Marie in the living room, while Jeff, the artist, was in the kitchen making dinner.
Marie was a real-life fairy, and also Max’s godmother. His fairy godmother. Everly always had to chew her lip to stop from laughing about that fact. But it gave her great joy to call Max Cinderella whenever he got on her nerves.
“We have a problem,” Max announced ominously. “Everly was contacted by Shinobi Rangers.”
The adults all gasped in horror.
“Give us the details, Everly,” the fairy said. “Don’t leave anything out.”
Taking a deep breath, Everly launched into the events of the day. When she was done, the house was absolutely quiet, except for the crunching of Max’s potato chips.
Adam let out a heavy sigh. “You’ll have to avoid the mall for a while.”
“No, she has to go,” Marie interjected. “This is exactly what we need.”
“You can’t be serious! It’s not safe.”
“You underestimate her abilities.”
“No, you underestimate the depth of Shinobi prejudice!”
“Adam, times are changing,” said Marie.
“Not for us,” Adam said. “You’re a fairy, so it’s different for you.”
“No. I’ve been discriminated against, too!”
In the blink of an eye, Adam’s smooth blond looks shifted to those of a snarling werewolf. His pretty blue eyes turned blood-red, and his lips retracted to show a fearsome array of sharp, elongated canines.
“Don’t you dare, Marie! Don’t try to compare your experience to ours. You left the fairy court because you befriended the Buraku. That’s not the same. You can never know what it feels like to be one of us, feared and despised by all.”
She made an impatient sound. “You know as well as I do that the Shinobi do not differentiate among the Otherworldly. They will hunt down a rogue fairy no differently than a rogue Buraku.”
Adam’s werewolf face receded.
“You’re so naive! A fairy is not the enemy until they turn. But the Buraku are always the hunted, even if we’ve never harmed anyone in our lives. Not just by the Shinobi, but by King Magnus and the fairy army and our own fellow citizens. It is how things have always been. It’s why we left the Otherworld.”
“But if things don’t change, this world will be no different,” she said sharply.
Both Adam and Jeff looked horrified.
“Don’t tell me you had a vision?” Jeff asked.
She nodded. “War is coming. I’ve seen it. And this time, it will not be contained to the Otherworld.”
“What do you mean, Aunt Marie?” asked Everly.
“During the First War, the Shinobi Rangers and the fairy army kept the fighting from entering the human world,” Max said.
“Well, that’s the official version,” the fairy said. “And that’s why we are in trouble. Modern rangers have been taught to hunt the Buraku. But they and humans don’t realize that the fairy folk are their real enemies. We must prepare for war.”
“How?” Jeff asked in a despairing voice. “Last time, an army of samurai warriors protected the gate. Now the Rangers are just a bunch of kids who chase down stray Buraku. They aren’t ready for this.”
“And that’s where Everly comes in,” said Marie, turning to Everly. “You can join the cadet program and help unite the Rangers and the Buraku.”
Everly asked, “I’ve been told over and over again how important it is to avoid the Rangers. Why are you telling me to become one?”
“This isn’t a good idea. If the Rangers investigate her, they’ll find all of us,” Adam said.
“It’s a risk,” Marie admitted. “But there is no other choice.”
“I don’t know, Aunt Marie.” Everly was shaking her head in dismay. “I’m not sure I can help.”
The fairy floated to Everly and grabbed her hands. “But will you try?”
“Of course,” Everly said.
Marie’s smile was brilliant. “Then I have something for you.”
She held up a small purple stone, decorated with a beautiful pattern of golden runes.
“This is a magic fairy stone,” she said. “If you accept it, magic will begin to grow inside of you.”
“You have no right to do this,” Adam protested.
“This is Everly’s choice,” said Marie.
“She’s just a kid,” Jeff chimed in.
“If war comes, being a child will not protect her.”
The two werewolves subsided.
“What will happen to us?” Everly asked.
“Magnus, the fairy king, would enslave the human race while trying to annihilate the Buraku. We are all in danger.” The fairy paused.
“But in my vision, I saw you, Everly.”
Everly blinked in surprise. “Me? What was I doing?”
“You were dressed like a Ranger and leading an army of Buraku. It will be perilous. The outcome is uncertain. But seeing you gave me a sense of hope. So I ask you again: Will you try to help us?”
“Yes, I will,” Everly responded firmly.
Marie smiled and handed Everly the stone. Suddenly the room faded away, along with Max and his two fathers. The pale blue walls of the Bennett house disappeared, and the Persian rug morphed into thick, tall grass.
Everly felt the cool night breeze blow through her ponytail. Everly and Marie were in a forest, standing within a ring of stones and wildflowers. A full moon shone brightly in a star-filled sky, bathing the area in soft light. The grass tickled Everly’s bare feet. She could smell honeysuckle and pine trees. A hard shiver slid down her spine as she stared at the dark forest surrounding them.
“Where are we?” Everly asked.
“We are in the dream woods of the Otherworld,” said Marie. “Only our spirits are here; our bodies are still back at Max’s house.”
“So I’m dreaming?”
“More like a waking dream,” the fairy responded.
“But why am I here?”
“My dear child, what I’m asking of you will be dangerous. I can’t ask you to do it defenseless. That is why
I’m going to give you a choice,” Marie said. She looked at the stone in Everly’s hand and traced a delicate finger over the symbols on it. “These are runes: Ansuz Eihwaz Algiz. They represent good fortune, protection, and defense. Rune magic is ancient and powerful. I don’t know what powers the rune stone will give you, because everyone is different. But I know that with this stone, and your training in the use of magical weaponry, you will become the greatest and most powerful Ranger.
“Before you accept, though, you must make a choice. Magic is a powerful responsibility. If you willingly accept it, you will become a defender of the Otherworldly. You will become, in part, one of those hunted by the very people you are planning to join. Once you accept, you can never undo it, even if you come to hate it.”
“Why would I hate it? I have always wanted to have magic,” said Everly, excitement rising within her. This was a dream come true.
“Let me show you why,” the fairy said, right before she disappeared along with the purple stone.
The light dimmed, and the heaviness of the night pressed against Everly’s flesh. Her eyes darted to the dark forest. A dreadful sound filled her ears. Something was moving in the shadows. Something big and hulking. The putrid smell of death and decay struck her, and her eyes widened with horror at the sight.
A gigantic troll lumbered toward her.
“Aunt Marie! Where are you?” Everly shouted.
Her heart hammered as she stared in dismay at the troll. Its skin was gray and filthy. She could see the sharp, jagged teeth in its wide crevice of a mouth as it grunted at her. It stood just outside the fairy circle, drool running down its craggy jaw, its massive hands extended toward her. But it stepped no further.
Everly realized it couldn’t cross the ring of stones surrounding her. Just as she began to breathe again, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, making her pivot. She screamed in terror as a bevy of supernatural creatures came at her. Full-on werewolves that were nothing like Jeff and Adam bared their fearsome fangs, followed by goblins, kappas, fox demons, centaurs, ogres, witches, and vampires.
They stood around the edge of the fairy circle, watching her. Everly didn’t know what they wanted. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. They were frightening. She closed her eyes and remembered what Adam had just said. The Buraku are always the hunted.
Everly took a deep breath. How was she to know who was safe and who would see her as a meal? This wasn’t the same as the goblin situation, where she knew he was up to no good. She opened her eyes and noticed how patient and quiet they were. No gnashing of their teeth, no grunting or shrieking or howling. Even the troll stood quietly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. What were they waiting for? What did they want?
Everly remembered the Buraku greeting of protection that Jeff had taught her. She slowly turned in a circle, catching the gaze of every creature before her, and bowed. “Peace to you, my brothers and sisters. I mean you no harm.”
There was a moment of utter stillness before all the Buraku bowed in return. But still, they waited. Everly realized she couldn’t stay in the circle all night. If they meant her no harm, then she had to trust them. She had to step out of the protective circle. Everly held a hand to her rapidly beating heart.
She stepped out.
Immediately the Buraku moved aside and lined up to form a path. Everly bowed again and walked past them until she reached a large rock, where the purple rune stone sparkled. When she turned around, the Buraku had vanished. She was alone.
“Marie? Are you here?” Everly yelled. The night was quiet all around her.
Everly stared at the stone, hearing the fairy’s words again.
Once you accept it, you can never undo it.
Everly had always wanted magic, but now that the offer was before her, she didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. But she thought of Max and Jeff and Adam. She thought of how they’d had to escape from the Otherworld because they were hunted by the fairy folk. If war came to her home, then none of them would ever be safe again. She would never forgive herself if something happened to her friends and her family. Plus, just how powerful could she be with magic?
She picked up the stone, it began to warm, and the symbols seemed to glow from within.
Everly looked around. What was she supposed to do now? She pressed the stone to her chest just as it flashed a hot, bright light. She felt a sharp, stinging pain, and then the heat was burning from within, as if she were being consumed alive. It was so hot, she wanted to rip her clothing off. She would have screamed, but she was paralyzed.
Just as she thought she’d made a horrifying mistake, the fire went out and she was back in Max’s house, lying on the floor with everyone staring at her.
“Ow,” she said. A huge billowing cloud of smoke blew out of her mouth.
Marie grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Welcome, hero of the Buraku!”
Everly didn’t feel like a hero, but staring at the worried faces of her friends, she knew she would do anything to protect them. Even if it meant leading an army into battle. A thought struck her.
“Aunt Marie, was I carrying a weapon in your vision?”
She nodded.
“Cool,” said Everly. “I’m so ready.”
Reina Madrid
R. J. Palacio
1.
Reina wasn’t her real name. Maria Eugenia was. But when Maria Eugenia Madrid first moved to the neighborhood at the age of six, none of the other kids could pronounce the new girl’s name the way her mother pronounced it (as one long word with a series of uncertain vowel sounds in the middle). Mah-ree-ah-ew-hen-ee-ah. Instead, the neighborhood kids found it much easier to call Maria Eugenia by the other name Mrs. Madrid used for her daughter: Reina. Ray-nah. That was simpler to pronounce. The neighborhood kids didn’t know that it meant “queen” in Spanish. They didn’t know that Mr. Madrid, who had tragically died only four months before mother and daughter had moved here, used to call her that, too. (Actually, Mr. Madrid’s pet name for Maria Eugenia was Reinita, which meant “little queen.”) But the neighborhood kids didn’t know or care about any of that. All they knew or cared about was that (a) Reina Madrid could run as fast as all the boys on 160th Street (except for Roy Ponte, but nobody could run faster than Roy) and (b) Reina Madrid was an excellent kickball player. This might or might not have had to do with all the weekends she spent playing fútbol with her father when she was little. All anyone knew was that when it was Reina Madrid’s turn to kick, tiny as she was, everyone in the infield took three steps back.
The kids from the neighborhood played kickball in the courtyard behind the three buildings that faced the avenue. There was a strip of grass that spanned the length of the buildings, just wide enough for bases, and that was where all the kids congregated. The apartment complex itself was quite lovely: small, Tudor-style, four-story buildings, with pretty gardens in front of each one. It was these gardens that had compelled Mrs. Madrid to rent the apartment on 160th Street, even though it was out of her price range. When she had started looking for rentals, the Realtor had only initially shown her apartments around Seventy-Fourth Street, under the subway overpass. This, he reasoned, was where she should live because it was a predominantly Spanish-speaking neighborhood.
“You’ll be comfortable here,” he assured her.
Mrs. Madrid, however, who had left a life of true comfort in her native country to come to New York while her husband pursued his graduate degree, found the constant thunder of the subway overpass and the treeless streets on Seventy-Fourth Street depressing. Nor did she like the Realtor’s insinuation, one she had found among her husband’s North American friends, that just because she came from one South American country, she automatically had much in common with people from other South American countries.
“Each country is different,” she would try to tell them.
“Each country has its own history and culture and tastes.”
So when the Realtor kept showing her rentals in the same treeless neighborhood, she insisted, in her thickly accented English, that he show her other neighborhoods—preferably ones with “very big trees.”
Reina was in the car when the Realtor drove them to the new listing on 160th Street. The avenues here were lined on both sides with enormous elms and sycamores and, on the corner of 162nd, flanked by two ancient weeping willows that arched over the street like a billowy gate, marking the entrance to the neighborhood. Her mother commented that the trees here reminded her of the flame trees along the beautiful boulevards of her homeland. The Realtor made a face, obviously misunderstanding her.
“No, no, Mrs. Madrid!” he said, trying nevertheless to remain polite. “There aren’t many fires here, no.”
“What my mother is saying is that these trees remind her of the trees where she comes from, which are called flame trees,” Reina interjected.
Even at six, she was already used to acting as an interpreter for her mother’s broken English.
“Ohh!” said the Realtor, still not quite understanding, but by then he had pulled up to the building on 160th Street, and Mrs. Madrid, seeing the well-appointed gardens in front, announced happily: “This is it! We will take this apartment!”
“But this building is out of your price range, Mrs. Madrid,” said Mr. Damper.
“Dile á Mr. Damper due no me importa,” she told me.
“She says she doesn’t care,” Reina said to him.
“And the apartment is on the fourth floor, the top floor,” he said, trotting behind Mrs. Madrid. “You had said you didn’t want anything above the second story.”
By then, Mrs. Madrid had walked to the front of the building and was taking it all in with an air of satisfaction, as if looking at a scene she recognized from a once-forgotten dream.
“Dile que éste es el apartamento que quiero,” she told Reina firmly with a flick of her hand.
The Hero Next Door Page 14
