Volume 1: Pickpocketing

by R. A. Consell

  Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but he didn’t get the chance. They were both startled by a voice from above them. “It’s n-not like that,” said Oliver defensively. He was poking his head over the top of the sofa and looking in on their hiding place. “Look, we m-messed up once. We d-didn’t want to d-do it again. I just kept seeing Ms. McCutcheon’s angry face in my head, yelling at us that we should do better, and then all of a sudden I was standing there with you.”

  “Really?” Arthur and Kuro said together, unbelieving.

  “Yeah,” replied Oliver resolutely. “Now m-make some space.” He threw his pillow and blanket over the back of the sofa and started to climb back to join them. He was followed by another hail of pillows and blankets, and Sean Cassidy clambered over.

  “What are you doing here?” demanded Kuro.

  “Same as Oliver,” said Sean indignantly. “Besides, I’m still sleeping down here this week, remember?”

  “Aren’t you afraid of me?” asked Arthur, pushing himself back into the corner away from the boys.

  “I mean, a b-bit,” admitted Oliver as he laid out his bedding. “B-but you’ve had lots of ch-chances to k-kill us and take our p-places this year and you haven’t. I’m not s-so worried.”

  The four boys had never really spent time together. They started to share their adventures of the year so far. Oliver and Sean’s hadn’t landed them in the nurse’s office quite as often as Kuro’s, but they had been in a brawl with some Vertheim boys, and on the winning team of a junior lacrosse tournament. Oliver had also singed off his own eyebrows in evocations class, and Sean had made a turnip explode all over himself when he was trying to practise telekinesis.

  They weren’t able to talk for long before being overheard. Charlie’s head, with hedgehog-like hair, appeared over the back of the sofa, grinning. The boys barely got out half of an explanation before she loudly declared “Sleepover!” and ran to get her things.

  She reappeared soon after, dragging her bedding and a reluctant Marie. Their growing pile of bedding soon attracted Meredith’s attention, who resigned herself to keeping a responsible eye on the impromptu slumber party and claimed the sofa for herself.

  Word spread, and the party grew. Soon half of Autumn was camped out in the lounge room in solidarity. The story of the day’s events was retold a dozen times, usually by Charlie, getting more elaborate every time. The older students applauded the first years’ bravery at standing up to De Rigueur. They comforted Arthur’s worries about being a changeling, though he was forced to spend five minutes changing his hair colour.

  He was so embarrassed by the attention that he was having trouble turning it and any other part of himself any shade except fuchsia.

  It turned out that Arthur wasn’t the only oddity in the room. He was comforted by Meredith, who talked about her ogre heritage. A fairly short high school senior with unusually large feet explained that his grandfather had been a barbegazi, and a girl claimed that she was one sixty-fourth djinn, but it didn’t do her any good.

  The room was boisterous and joyful, and every square inch of space was covered with blankets, pillows, and loudly talking students. It felt to Kuro like his first real night at Avalon. It didn’t feel like a prison, or like everyone was spying on him. The whole lodge was together and happy. The older students shared stories with their juniors about past adventures. Charlie’s magic brush was passed around the room, and half the students ended up with strange hairstyles. Seniors showed off their trickiest spells, turning pillows into marshmallows and making silverware waltz. A few of them got together and enchanted the hardwood floor to be soft and yielding like the stone benches in the amphitheatre.

  Slowly the chatter in the lounge died down, and everyone started to drift off to sleep much later than they should have. Kuro’s was the last set of eyes in the room to shut. He was too happy to sleep and didn’t want the return of classes the next day to spoil his mood. When sleep finally took him, he had, for the first time in his memory, pleasant dreams.

  Twenty-two

  The Blue Bowler

  Evelyn did not appear in class the next day, or the next. Rumour was that she had been knocked into some potions by De Rigueur’s spell and was covered in fur. Kuro knew the truth but kept it to himself. He smiled inwardly, remembering the large moustache and goatee that he had painted on her face, and how Marie had turned her hair and new beard bright green before leaving her at the infirmary. It was an image that would keep him grinning in the darkest times.

  Arthur had become much more relaxed. Though still quiet, shy, and awkward, he smiled more openly and laughed more often. He had also become vastly better at magic since he no longer needed to concentrate on staying the same shape.

  Not everyone was as comfortable with Arthur as the Lodgers. Many distrusted changelings and would cross the hallway or classroom to avoid him. Others, Evelyn included, made cruel remarks, jeers, and implied threats. Arthur pretended that it didn’t bother him, but he avoided going anywhere without the protection of a couple of friends.

  A side effect of not trying to stay the same shape meant that he rarely did. He would change based on his mood and often started to look like the people he was listening to if they talked for too long. That meant he frequently took on the appearance of Charlie or his teachers. An hour listening to Mrs. Lovelace talk about geometric formulas one day had him looking like a cubist rendition of the teacher.

  United with his friends, the final months of school flew by for Kuro. All too soon, that ease and comfort was replaced with the horror of final reports and the looming threat of exams. While he had improved a lot since he’d arrived, he still struggled through every assignment. He felt almost good enough at reading, writing, and magic to start the year, not finish it.

  He sat in the library with his friends, attempting to work through Charlie’s chatter, when their session was interrupted by a surprise visit from Sabine. Kuro had already seen her earlier in the month and believed everything to be arranged for the summer.

  “I’m very sorry,” she said politely to the four of them. “Could I borrow Kuro from you? I have some exciting news for him.”

  She led him back up to the castle and waited until well out of earshot of other students before starting to explain. “It looks as though you won’t have to go to the orphanage after all,” she said warmly.

  Kuro couldn’t understand why this was good news. “But I want to go to the orphanage. Meredith says it’s nice there,” he pleaded.

  “Oh, that is sweet,” Sabine said consolingly. “I’m sure that you could visit if you want, but we’ve found a better place. We’ve found your family.”

  Kuro was so surprised that he tripped over his feet and nearly fell flat on his face. He didn’t have any family. Phineas had been very clear about that. He was an experiment. Phineas had created him from raw materials. Had he lied? Was Sabine mistaken? Did Kuro actually have a real family?

  Sabine led Kuro to the room where they normally met. She opened the door and gave Kuro a little nudge to walk inside. A man was in the chair where Sabine normally sat. He was well dressed in a crisp grey business suit and wore a bright blue bowler hat. He sat with the posture of a very proud man, straight backed, one leg crossed casually over the other, exposing a well-polished shoe. His face was hard to read. He was clean shaven and looked a little bit weathered. His lips were spread in a broad warm smile, but his eyes remained distant and judgemental. The man seemed strangely familiar, but Kuro couldn’t recall knowing anyone, or stealing from anyone, who wore such a bright blue hat.

  “This is Mr. Jonathan Smith,” said Sabine. “Your uncle.”

  The man stood up. “Thank you, Ms. El-Assar.” His smile grew even wider as he surveyed Kuro. “We had all thought you were lost in the accident with your parents, Albert. I’ve not seen you since you were a babe in arms. That’s your name, Albert. I’m told they’ve been calling you Kuro.”

  The voice was familiar. Kuro knew i
t. He just couldn’t place it. He’d heard it before, but it was like a dream he’d forgotten. “Come here and let me look at you,” the man said warmly.

  Kuro felt his legs moving beneath him automatically; the very thought of refusing to do what he was told made him weak. It was Phineas Hearn. It could only be him. He had to obey the voice of his master even if he didn’t recognize it. Phineas was using a distracting draught and that ridiculous blue bowler to disguise himself.

  Kuro looked closer at the man. He wasn’t sure he would have recognized him even without magic. He looked healthy, strong, and self-assured. He smelled clean, and his clothes were neatly pressed. He moved with confidence and precision. The only thing that was really the same as the Phineas Kuro knew was the eyes. They were still cold, calculating, and filled with loathing. “How—” Kuro started to say, but he was cut off.

  “Don’t say another word,” said Phineas. “We’ll have plenty of time for questions later.”

  Kuro’s voice evaporated, and his jaw clamped shut.

  Phineas seemed very pleased with that reaction. “Go get your things and hurry straight back,” he said loudly. Then he leaned in closer and said, “And any of my things you happen to have. Do you understand?”

  Kuro nodded. His body walked itself to the dorm and started throwing his few possessions into his book bag. The few students studying in the lounge took no notice of him as he entered and left without a word.

  It was terribly unfair, Kuro thought. He had finally felt at home, felt what freedom was like. Before he had come to Avalon, he’d never known what he was missing. Going back to Phineas would be a hundred times worse now. He wished that someone would notice him, that he’d run into a teacher, that they would see something was wrong, but the grounds were empty. Everyone was either in class or studying for exams. He walked back into the meeting room with his belongings loaded into his book bag and looked helplessly at Sabine, but she seemed oblivious. She smiled at him and patted his head.

  “I’ll be taking him to meet the rest of the family now,” said Phineas. “No need to worry. Follow me, Kuro.” He led Kuro out of the meeting room, down the stairs, and out along the paths to the ferry dock.

  “I’ve spent the last three months trying to find you, boy,” Phineas complained once they were out of earshot of anyone. “I expected you dead, and instead I find they’ve made you into a wizard.” Phineas seemed disgusted by the idea. “Where are my things? My notebook and my shell, do you have them? Tell me. Where are they?”

  Kuro’s jaw finally unclenched. “No, master,” he said sullenly. “I hid them in Detritus.”

  “They were already hidden,” Phineas snapped and raised his hand as though to hit Kuro.

  “I feared they would be found if the Hounds came back.” Kuro shrunk back.

  Phineas looked around and lowered his hand. He was unwilling to risk being seen delivering a beating on the grounds of the school, though his anger was still palpable. “They did return. They found my cane and used it to condemn me. It bore the history of the things that it had done. Why didn’t you hide that?” he snapped viciously.

  “You ordered me never to touch your cane,” Kuro snivelled.

  Phineas’s expression softened to one of interest rather than rage. “Following my orders even in my absence? Better than I expected. Much better.” He was speaking to himself more than Kuro.

  They reached the empty docks and continued along the pier toward the edge of the veil. Before they crossed through, they heard someone calling to them. Phineas whipped around and raised a new cane. Kuro felt the electric charge building up on it to attack whoever approached. He turned, fearful of who might be unlucky enough to find them.

  Charlie was running as fast as she could down the pier after them. “Wait!” she yelled. “You can’t go.”

  Run away, thought Kuro as loudly as he could. Don’t come. He’ll kill you.

  Phineas did not reach for his cane, though. He relaxed and returned to his smiling false affectation. “Tell me, is that a friend of yours, Kuro?” he said pleasantly.

  “Yes,” said Kuro, unable to resist his master’s order.

  “I suppose they’ve taught you some magic here, haven’t they?” He patted Kuro on the shoulder paternally as Charlie ran closer. She was nearly at the gates.

  Charlie staggered to a stop a few feet from Kuro and Phineas, the veil shimmering next to them. “They said,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “They said you were leaving.” She gulped down some air. “Leaving without saying goodbye. Not allowed.”

  Why had somebody told her? Kuro’s heart was pounding in his chest. Maybe Phineas would let her go. Maybe he would want to keep himself secret.

  Phineas crouched down and whispered darkly to Kuro, “Show me what they’ve taught you. Show me that you’re loyal to me. Get rid of her.”

  Kuro looked into Phineas’s eyes. There was no question what Phineas meant, but his words had left room for Kuro to interpret.

  Kuro raised his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said to Charlie, who was completely bewildered by Kuro’s actions. “Hlàtr,” he said sadly as he swept his hand forward and pointed toward Charlie.

  A stream of black ash flew out and hit her square in the chest. She dropped to the ground and lay motionless.

  Kuro walked over to her unmoving body and checked her pulse.

  “Impressive. I don’t know that one. You’ll have to teach it to me,” commented Phineas, unmoved by the apparent murder he had just witnessed. “You’re finally achieving your purpose. How is she?”

  It did not surprise Kuro that Phineas didn’t know about a spell that would make people laugh or make people sad. Such things were beneath him. Kuro moved to check on Charlie. She was catatonic with grief. “About as you would expect,” answered Kuro.

  “Excellent. You never forget your first.” Phineas smiled in approval. “Get rid of the body. We don’t want to be found out too soon.”

  Kuro dragged Charlie’s limp body out through the veil at the end of the ferry dock. After passing through, he was immediately knee deep in the surf and had to fight to keep Charlie’s head above water. Hoping that the veil would obscure his actions enough from Phineas, he wrestled her up a little distance onto dry land and in clear sight of one of Dani’s bird-watching cameras. He just hoped that she was keeping an eye on them. He knew that Charlie would be trapped there, unable to move out in the Blandlands without her magic to help her, but that also meant she couldn’t get back up and risk Phineas realizing the ruse. “Someone will find you here,” Kuro said. “I’m sorry.”

  As soon as Kuro had returned through the veil, Phineas said, “Come, we must be off before any alarm is raised.” Tied up to the dock was a motorboat, which Phineas must have stolen from someone in the Blandlands. He dropped down into the boat and with few muttered words and a gesture had it untie itself. “Get in.”

  Kuro climbed into the boat, which Phineas guided out of the freshwater inlet, through the veil, and out into the salty bay. Once clear of the veil, Phineas started up the engine, and they roared across the choppy water.

  Kuro watched the rocky bird-covered island fade from view behind them, wondering if he would ever return.

  Twenty-three

  The Return to Detritus Lane

  They tore across the bay faster than seemed at all safe. The boat bounced over the choppy waves and felt at constant risk of capsizing. Kuro wondered where Phineas had even learned to drive a Blandlands boat, or if he was just making it up as he went.

  Phineas had the foresight to dress for the journey, but his consideration had not extended beyond himself, so Kuro was soaked and shivering from the icy spray off the water by the time they had crossed the bay. Once close enough to see the shore clearly, they slowed to cruise along it, looking for the visible shimmer of the veil that would mark an entrance.

  After a fair time searching, they pushed through the veil and into the Feylands at the port where ferry to
Avalon was docked. Once through, the gasoline engine sputtered out, and Phineas had to push the boat the rest of the way to the dock with magic.

  Not wanting anyone coming or going from the island in any kind of hurry, Phineas sank both his boat and the ferry. He did it casually, with a simple spell that turned their metal hulls into sugar, which quickly dissolved out from under them.

  They had remained silent for the journey, but now that they no longer had the roar of the engine or the din of the wind rushing loudly in their ears, Kuro couldn’t help but ask some burning questions. “Master,” he said as submissively as possible. “Where have you been? I heard that you were taken to Niflheim Prison.”

  “Oh, I was,” replied Phineas, a sneer on his lip.

  “But how did you escape?”

  “The same way I got you at Avalon,” he gloated. “Through the front door.”

  “You were released?” exclaimed Kuro in horrified amazement.

  “Oh, no,” laughed Phineas. “Not exactly.” He leaned in close and whispered to Kuro. “Don’t tell anyone, but the inmates are running the asylum.”

  Kuro wasn’t sure what that meant, and Phineas refused to elaborate. Instead he got into a waiting car and, barely giving Kuro time to seat himself, sped down the road away from the docks.

  “Where are we going?” Kuro risked asking.

  “We’re going to fetch my things in Detritus,” he explained. “Now be quiet. Your time away has made you unpleasantly talkative.”

  They did not take the normal route from the docks to Detritus, east to Bytown and then to Detritus by way of the market. Bytown was far too infested with the Royal Guard. Instead they turned away from Bytown and shot along the fairy road that spanned the northern reaches of the Feylands. Within an hour they were crossing the western mountains and pulling to a stop outside a dilapidated farmhouse standing alone near the coast, the wilds reclaiming its untilled fields.