by Harold Wall
she's not too well, and you can probably find your own friends, but...but...do you play bridge?"
There was utter bemusement in his expression. "I used to."
"Great. Then you have no excuse. Some of our parents used to play, but there's only three of them who do right now, and I know they all miss it. You could partner my mom. I mean, you better be good enough to win, because she could give Napoleon a run for his money when it comes to strategy, but I bet they'd like you."
And Sunny seems kind of difficult, and Aurenna hates you, and I remember that time Billy and I were both horrible to my mom, and I caught her crying in the garden while she
pulled out the weeds. Your eyes look like hers wounded. The way you look when someone you love hurts you.
"I know they'd like you," she said more firmly. "I'll tell my mom to expect you tomorrow."
He had the sort of shellshocked look that was fairly familiar to anyone who'd just had their first taste of what Aspen called the Slone steamroller. "Thanks."
She shrugged. "No big deal. Um…is Sunny about?"
"She's doing something with her hair." His hand gestures suggested magic. Or curling. Probably curling, she concluded. "How was her first day?"
"Not...easy, I think," she ventured. His nod confirmed it. "But we'll look out for her."
Everyone is looking out for her, she thought. The boys in hope, the shapeshifters in fear, and me well, I'm still deciding.
She wanted the walk in to be easier. Those hopes were dashed; the shapeshifters didn't bother to hide their reactions, or maybe they couldn't. Either way, she could only watch as
people scattered before them.
Sunny wasn't talking, again, so in desperation, Celia resorted to a rundown on everyone she'd met yesterday.
"...Mike's been made quarterback this year, which has only inflated his ego even more. He's the kind of guy who thinks that your lips are saying no but your eyes are saying yes. If
your fists can also say no, and say it directly to his balls, that should do the trick. It worked for Ness, anyway, but that was before she was dating Arch. I don't think you've met
him..."
She spotted Arch by the store.
"That's him – the tall guy with the red Tshirt. Hey, Arch!" She waved at him.
He looked up, the smile on his lips fading as he saw Sunny beside her.
"Fancy some company?" she said, praying he'd be the exception to the rule.
"Uh...not today. I...need to go," he said, and crossed the road with such abruptness that it couldn't be anything but deliberate.
She struggled to know what to say. "Guess he's in a hurry."
Sunny's gaze was concentrated on the ground. "Who cares?"
You do, she thought.
Oh, Sunny was very good at hiding it, but Celia had grown up with Riose and all his miniscule subtleties. The evidence was there: the little flinches, the drop of her gaze as another
one turned away, fingers clenching in her long necklace until the chain dug into her neck.
She hesitated. What she wanted to do wasn't smart, given the graffiti. But she'd stood by Sunny yesterday, watching as each rejection chipped away at her. And it struck her how
easily they ostracised her – without trying to know, without wanting to know. No wonder it hurt.
Sunny said nothing, of course, but that made it worse. It meant she didn't think anyone cared.
"Why do they do that?" she halfgrowled, glaring at Arch's departing back.
Sunny's voice was soft, small. "Who?"
"The shapeshifters."
Pure shock on her face, lips parted, utterly human in that moment. "Who told you that?" she hissed.
"I grew up here. My best friend was a shapeshifter. Now she's just an oracle, only she doesn't do prophecies. When I was six, Riose got all fangy over my mom's steak tartare. And
as for Finn and puberty...let's just say all of us got really good with a fire extinguisher."
"And they let you remember?" she choked, incredulous.
She supposed one large advantage of people fleeing before you was that no one could hear what Sunny was saying. "Let me? What do you think I am, a pet dog?"
"In our world? Yes." Something glimmered in Sunny's eyes – the churning heat of magma, like a glimpse into some boiling hell, and Celia had to force herself not to step back. "A
child could wrap your mind around their little finger."
She heard the ghost of her mother during one of her impromptu selfdefence lessons, saying It's all right to be afraid, Celia. But don't show it. As soon as it's over, whatever it is,
you have my permission to be a screeching, liquefied mess if that's what you need. But in the moment, be bold. It might just make the difference.
Be bold, she thought and stared into those inhuman eyes, breathing in, breathing out.
"I might surprise you," she said calmly.
There was a touch on her arm – Riose was there, and he stepped between them like Sunny didn't exist, his gaze intent. "Are you okay?"
"Of course. I have the Slone knee in reserve, remember?"
"Vividly," he said with feeling.
"You." Sunny's voice was low, vibrating. "You told her. Are you that naïve? Or just stupid?"
His eyes were like bluegreen chips of glacial ice. "Neither."
"Both, clearly! Do you have any idea what you've done? You bring humans into our world and they get hurt." She shook her head. "You could get her killed."
"Not me," said Celia, angry now. "I'm careful. We're careful."
Sunny scoffed. "And you're never afraid."
"Of course I'm afraid!" She thrust her hand up, with the crooked little finger. "Wolves did this." She turned her wrist to reveal the shiny crescent burn mark. "Finn did that. He didn't mean to, but it hurt. Phi nearly drowned me when I was seven, because no one told her that humans can't hold their breath underwater like the mer. Sometimes, they scare me.
But so do rollercoasters. So does knowing that one day my mom will die, like Phi's mom did, and I'll have to cope with it somehow. Guess what? Life is scary. You can cower in the
corner, or you can face it down and hope that the monsters in the dark might be on your side."
She took a deep breath, blood and rage pounding through her.
"They've always been on my side," she said. "And I'm on theirs, too. It might not mean much"
"It means everything," said Riose, and for one strange moment, their eyes locked and the world shrunk down to him and her, still in the midst of the wild world. "You're...ours, Cee.
You're family."
She smiled, and her anger melted like ice under sunlight.
"Family?" There was a strangled note in Sunny's voice. "Her?"
"Her."
Riose took a step closer to Sunny, threat looming large in his every move.
"And don't you dare try to change that," he said softly.
The anguish on Sunny's face was raw. "That's not who I am. She knows, and it's too late to change it. And you...you can't even see the danger you've put her in. God, you are
blind."
"And what am I supposed to do?" bit out Riose. "Erase her memory, again and again? Do you know what that does to someone?"
Sunny reeled back from him as if he had hit her, and suddenly Celia understood – the pieces came together like a mosaic, but it was no pretty picture.
"She knows, Ri," she murmured, laying a hand on his arm. "She knows exactly what it does."
Sunny was crumbling in front of them and trying desperately not to, her eyes too bright, the heat rolling off her almost unbearable.
Grimacing as the hot air hit her, Celia stepped between them. It was like being in a sauna where someone kept tossing heat onto the coals – thick, suffocating, as if she inhaled
cotton wool. The inches felt like miles, but she didn't stop because if she turned away, she proved everything Sunny thought was right.
Eyes itching, skin prickling, she reached out.<
br />
"Celia!" she heard Riose say, and the heat seared up around her until her vision swam.
She had never fainted in her life, and she wasn't about to start. Celia took that last step, and she grabbed for Sunny's hands, and squeezed, hard. Pain burned in her fingers, but she
hung on.
"I'm so sorry," she told her, thinking of Kurt shrinking back in the corridor, of Aurenna's dazed eyes as she rubbed her temples. And of Sunny on that first day, looking at the
distance between them like she didn't understand it. "No one deserves that."
Spots danced at the periphery of her vision – her knees buckled, and then a great wave of fresh air dashed against her like icy water. She heard a noise – a sob, halfswallowed
back.
"It was my fault," said Sunny, her voice crackling. Her fingers were like a vice, utter anguish in her eyes. "It's my fault she can't remember. She did it for me. And I didn't stop her
because I was so angry – because they'd left me there for six years, and I didn't think they cared...I should have stopped her!" A shuddering gasp wracked her. "I should have
stayed!"
And she dissolved into tears – head bowed, hiding behind that widow's veil of black hair as if she couldn't bear for them to see her cry.
Celia glanced over. Riose wore a what do we do look, which given that his usual response to tears was the sort of cartoon exit that left nothing but a cloud of dust, meant he
thought it was serious.
Her hands were smarting but unharmed, and with only a little trepidation, Celia went in for the hug. Sunny folded into her, and Celia said quietly, "It wasn't your fault."
She didn't understand, but that bit, she felt was true. Six years...whatever had happened, Sunny had been a kid.
"I should have stayed," insisted Sunny. Her voice was weary, but controlled again. She straightened, wiping at her eyes. Celia didn't have the heart to tell her that her eyeliner had
been obliterated.
"Stayed where?" Riose asked.
She took a deep, rattling breath. Her gaze flicked between them, deciding. She was a mess, redeyed and blotchy – and Celia liked her far more than her polished façade. "The
hollow place."
Riose swore viciously. "No. You weren't there. No one goes there and lives."
"I know." Such sadness. She pulled at the hem of her top – lifted it to bare a jagged pink scar in her stomach. And she turned, so they could see the matching wound on her back.
"Me included."
The three of them stood in silence. Then Celia ventured, "What's the hollow place?"
"It's the demon realm," said Riose. He watched Sunny with something close to anxiety.
"So you're a d"
Riose coughed; a mother was strolling along with her pushchair.
"eepsea diver," finished Celia wildly. "What does that mean, exactly?"
Both of them looked at her. The woman gave them a baffled glance as she passed.
Sunny sighed. "I don't know yet myself."
"No one does," offered Riose. It was as close as he'd get to sympathy. "Except it probably isn't much fun."
"No. And I shouldn't have told you," muttered Sunny. "I lost it."
"Yeah," said Riose dryly. "It's weird how that happens to all of us 'round Cee. It's like she cares about who you are, not what you are, or something." Sunny looked at him, a little
startled. He shrugged. "I didn't plan to tell her either. But this werewolf pushed me over in the playground, and Celia called him a bully and kicked him, he grazed his knee, I
smelled blood and before I could hide it, fangs ahoy."
The starts of a smile were on Sunny's lips. "I can understand that. Celia – I...didn't mean to scare you. It's just – our world is dangerous." Her fingers touched her top, over where
that scar was. "I found that out the hard way. I don't want you to go through that. I remember what it was like being human in their world."
"Hard," she admitted. "A little frightening." She glanced at Riose, and smiled. "And incredible. Fun. Kind of weird."
"Are you taking about me or the Nightworld?"
"Yes."
He gave her a reproachful look. "We need to make tracks or we'll be late."
School. She'd forgotten. "Wait – Sunny, your makeup's all over the place..."
Alarmed, Sunny turned to examine her reflection in the glass of a shop window. "I can't go in like this!"
Demon or human, there were some things that were universal, and keeping up your image in high school was one of them.
Digging in her bag, Sunny waved them off with her free hand. "You guys go on, I can pretend I got lost. New girl perk." She hesitated, then turned. "I...I've never had any friends
except Kurt and Aurenna. And maybe Blue."
Beside her, Riose made a noise like a chainsaw revving up that Celia took for extreme shock.
"I always imagined if I had friends, they'd be kind of like you." Her essential Sunniness reasserted itself. "I mean, cooler, but like you."
"There's more graffiti," was Finn's greeting as Celia swung into the desk next to him for British Literature, a little breathless from sprinting the last couple of streets. Riose hadn't
even broken a sweat, damn him. "Not words this time."
She fanned herself. "Do tell."
"They got the canteen. The wall's covered in this weird symbol." He sketched out two concentric circles overlaid by an inverted V. Celia recognised it straight away. "People are
freaked." A telling pause. "Most people, anyway."
Her ears pricked. "Who isn't freaked?"
"Mike Stanislov. His little crew. I think he knows. He made this – this comment at Ness. 'We all know what five letter word describes you. Ends in itch.'"
She grimaced. Mike could be a nasty piece of work when he wanted. Never to her, mostly because they avoided each other, but she'd overheard some of his comments. Hard not to
when his volume was perpetually amped to eleven. "Could be a different word, Finn. Either way, he's a jerk."
"She didn't think so. Neither do I. I told him he was uninvited from Friday. Him and all his gang."
"He'll try and crash it anyway." Celia saw his eyelashes drop, fauxcoy over the sly curve of a smile. "You have a plan."
"Of course I have a plan."
"Do you need my help?"
"Not so much need as want." He cocked a finger at her. "My place, tomorrow night. Help me design the scorched earth policy."
"Cryptic. I'm in," she proclaimed.
Sunny slid in right on the bell with the gossip girls. She tipped Celia a little salute before they settled at the back, giggling and chattering. Around them, shapeshifters squirmed in
their seats, and Finn suddenly kept dropping pens. It was going to be a long day.
shut her locker, and turned to head to her next class.
She hit Mike Stanislov's chest instead. The impact staggered her – Mike and a brick wall had a lot in common. "Sorry," she muttered automatically and stepped sideways.
Mike stepped with her.
"Sorry," she repeated, a little frustrated, and moved the other way.
He was there again.
So that was the game he was playing. Narroweyed, Celia stared at him. "Did you want something, Mike?"
"A word or two," he said in that great bass growl. It was the sort of voice you'd expect on the wideshouldered, muscled slab of a guy Mike was. Past six foot, and very good at
burying opposition six foot under, she either had to crane her neck to glare at him or aim her best 'drop dead' look at his chest.
Celia went for craning. A little neck strain was worth it to get her point across. The hall was emptying around them. The last few stragglers were drifting out – and Mike was clearly
waiting for just that.
A door closed. Silence. Those sleetgrey eyes were drinking her in, and Celia had the feeling she was being measured in some way.
"The wor
ld's changing, Slone. Things are going to be different. Question is, are you going to stay the same?"
She stared back, refusing to show anything on her face. "Mike, I haven't got a clue what you're blathering on about."
One side of his mouth hooked up in a notquite smile. "See, everyone else buys that line of bullshit. They hear about this thing with you and Ratner and they think that maybe
you're just naïve. Maybe you got fooled, same as the rest of us. They think you'll see the truth and run screaming."
"What truth?" she said sharply. Her mind was going a million miles a minute.
"Nice. Very believable." He took a step closer; and she edged back until she felt metal against her shoulder blades. His hands crashed onto the lockers, his body suddenly a cage
that she quivered in. Mike leaned in, breath damp and hot as he said into her ear, "Maybe they're right about you."
"Stop talking in riddles!" she snapped, shriller than she wanted to be.
He chuckled. "The world isn't what you think it is, Slone. There's us and there's them. They run it all. They have power, and they think they have all of it. They think we're cattle,
and they've used us. But now we have their secrets. The uprising's coming, and you can rise with us or fall with them. And I'm telling you now, it's a hell of a long way to the
bottom. Time to choose, Slone. Time to"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" came a voice.
To her immense relief, Will was striding down the corridor.
Mike drew back at once, his face the picture of easy amiability as Celia sagged against the lockers. "Having a little chat, Ratner. Not sure why that's any of your business."
"It's my business when you make my lab partner late. I like my GPA how it is."
Mike sneered. "You need to get your priorities straight." He glanced at Celia, a quick cut of his eyes. "So do you, sweetheart. Remember what I said. Clock's ticking."
He was gone then, whistling a song offkey that hung in her memory long after he was out of sight.
"Jerk," she said, and found herself in tandem with Will.
"Let me guess," said Will grimly. "Mike propositioned you."
Caught offguard, but unwilling to pass up a good excuse, Celia said, "How did you know?"
Will glared at his departing back. "He thinks I have you, so he wants you. Same as always. Sorry you had to put up with that."
