Intangible

by DelSheree Gladden

  “She also said …” Robin hesitates, and I fear I won’t like what’s coming next. “She said the only way Mason will be granted safe passage is if you’re with him.”

  “Do you know what she meant by that?” I ask.

  Robin shakes her head. “Not really.”

  I want to bang my head against the Jeep. Seriously. I sigh and try to focus on doing something more productive. “It almost sounds like there will be someone responsible for either granting or denying Mason safe passage between the worlds, but that would be crazy right?”

  “Why? Everything else seems to be a manic mess. Besides, what’s sane about crossing between worlds?” Robin shakes her head. “This whole secret reality sounds like a bunch of crap if you think about it from a normal person’s point of view.”

  Rubbing my palms against my face, I stare up at the clouds drifting lazily by in the chilly sky. “I used to be one of those normal people. Caretakers, Sentinels, Aerlings, it’s too much as it is. I just don’t think I can add in some other group, one who may or may not grant Mason passage on some kind of standard I have no clue about.”

  “That may not be what she meant,” Robin says. “She could have been talking about the other Aerlings, the ones already in the Aerling world. Maybe they’re the ones that grant passage back and forth. I mean, they must have the power, right? They send the Aerling infants here… I think. I don’t know who else would be sending them.”

  “But if the Aerlings have the power to cross, why would they need an Escort to go home?” I shake my head and try to resist the urge scream. “There must be something I can do that they can’t.”

  “Then, how do the infants get out of their world if they can’t cross?” Robin looks honestly stumped.

  “What if they can leave, but if they do, they can’t get back in without an Escort?”

  “So… if someone takes the Aerling infants out of their world, they’re just stuck here?”

  Defeated by the sheer amount of questions, I unlock my door and climb into the Jeep. Robin plops down next to me a few minutes later. Her eyes look squinty, as if she’s trying to hold off a headache. I’m pleading for my bed right about now. Well, Mason’s bed, since that’s where I end up more nights than not, lately.

  “I know finding out about Escorts is nearly impossible since your parents won’t help us,” I say, “but what about finding out about how Aerling infants get here? Do you think we could learn more about that? Maybe it will help us piece together the return trip.”

  Robin shrugs. “I don’t know if my parents will offer much of an explanation, but I know that not all cultures in the past treated Aerlings as secrets like we do.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  The grin that springs onto Robin’s lips is a little unnerving, but at the same time, exciting. “How are you with Egyptian history?”

  ***

  Parked on the living room couch, Evie and I both turn to face Robin, eager for information. For once, it comes easily.

  “So, I told you there are different stories about how the Aerlings first came to this world depending on which culture you talk to. The Egyptian mythology is the most straightforward, so I tend to believe it more than the others.”

  Evie frowns. “So you don’t know which stories are actually true?”

  “How could we? It’s not like there’s a secret Caretaker guidebook,” Robin says with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, the Egyptians believed there were two Aerlings who were the first ones to come to this world, Amun and Amunet. Their mythology portrays them as husband and wife, but since Aerlings go home at age eighteen, most Caretakers assume that was added after the fact. Some people in the Caretakers think Amun and Amunet were twins, not lovers.”

  “Why couldn’t they have been lovers?” I ask. “I’m sure it wasn’t uncommon for people to be married quite young back then.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but it is unusual for two Aerlings to be sent here together if they aren’t twins.” Robin shrugs. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. What’s more important is that the Egyptians worshipped Amun and Amunet. They believed they were gods of the wind. Amun means the ‘Hidden One,’ and both were associated with invisibility and air.”

  Evie leans forward with interest. “So, way back then, Aerlings weren’t hidden?”

  “No,” Robin says, “they were celebrated. Most of the time, they were worshipped in whatever culture they ended up in. Powerful ones like Mason were the ones people thought were gods.”

  “So,” Evie says, “Aerlings are hidden now because if people saw what they could do, they’d freak?”

  Robin shakes her head, surprising us both. “No, Aerlings are hidden now because of the Sentinels.”

  We both stare at her with huh? written across our faces.

  “Are you both forgetting something?” Robin crooks an eyebrow at us and waits for us to catch on. When we don’t, she rolls her eyes. “Duh, Aerlings are invisible except to Caretakers!”

  “Wait, so how did people worship them and stuff if nobody else could see them? The Caretakers, what, told people about these invisible people they had and everyone just believed them?”

  Robin shakes her head. “Aerlings may be invisible to most people, but you know as well as I do that they can manifest all they want.”

  I can certainly agree with that.

  “Amun and Amunet sound like they were very powerful. Stories claim they could control the wind. They believe Amun helped create this world and that Amunet welcomed the dead into the kingdom of Osiris. That last part probably had something to do with them going home, but it’s not really clear.”

  “So,” Evie says, “what’s the point of all this? How’s it supposed to help Olivia get Mason home?”

  “The point is,” Robin says condescendingly, “if we want to get Mason home, we need to figure out which mythology is the right one. If we can dig into it enough, maybe we can figure out how the Aerlings get here and just flip it around or something.”

  Scowling, Evie says, “Just flip it around? What kind of plan is that?”

  “It can’t be that hard, right?” I say quietly. They both turn to look at me. I try to shake off the pity and concern etched in their features, but it clings to my skin like wet sand. Feigning strength, I square my shoulders. “Most Escorts only have a few days or hours, but they manage to make it work. I’ve still got two weeks. I should be able to figure it out, right? How hard could it be?”

  Something about what I just said sets Robin to squirming. I’m not the only one who notices. Evie’s eyes are suddenly drilling into her. Finally, Robin can’t stand it and says, “The more powerful the Aerling is, the more of a sacrifice it requires to send them home.”

  “What?” Evie demands.

  I shake my head, suddenly feeling like the room might start spinning at any moment. After seeing what Mason did to that Sentinel, I have no doubt about the depth of his power. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you,” she says quietly. “I know you’re already trying as hard as you can.”

  “Saving Mason’s life will require everything, won’t it? Everything I have to give.”

  “That might not mean what you think it means,” Evie says, her voice pleading. “You don’t have to die. Right? That can’t be what it means.”

  Maybe Evie is right. Maybe I don’t have to die. Maybe sending Mason home will be the proverbial ride into the sunset of fulfilled fantasies. Maybe… but I seriously doubt it.

  Chapter 6

  The Beginning

  (Mason)

  Ever since I let Molly sneak out of the house with me last night, she will barely leave my side for more than five seconds. She’s not worried I’ll leave again without her so much as she is constantly looking for moments alone where I can teach her a few of my own skills for surviving outside of the unnerving bubble she currently lives in. She has been twitching all morning, dying for a chance to practice mo
re slight-of-hand tricks.

  Mrs. Britton sitting in the next room keeping a critical eye on us has kept our time together strictly educational. It’s been four hours of focusing and mind exercises, and I am exhausted. At the risk of upsetting Mrs. Britton, I decide we need a change of pace.

  “Molly, my brain is turning to mush. How about you teach me some history instead.”

  Molly scrunches her face in confusion. “History? Of what?”

  “Of the Aerlings. Like how long have we been coming here, who was the first, why are we sent, stuff like that? You must know about some of our history.”

  “Sure,” Molly says, “I guess I just thought you’d already know about all that, but I forgot …”

  I shake my head quickly and tip my head in the direction of Mrs. Britton. Molly snaps her lips closed as she remembers the circumstances of my youth aren’t supposed to be shared. It takes her a minute to recompose herself.

  “Where do you want me to start?” she asks.

  Shrugging, I say, “At the beginning, I guess.”

  “The beginning is different depending on which culture you believe has the truth,” Molly says.

  “Who do you believe in?”

  Molly smiles and cocks her head to one side. She shrugs her little shoulders. “I can tell you which one I like best.”

  Mrs. Britton looks away from whatever she is doing on her computer and looks over at Molly. For a moment, I freeze, worried that my asking about the origins of the Aerlings is somehow taboo, but she only looks away a moment later. She says nothing to stop her, but continues to listen closely. I turn back to Molly, who is waiting impatiently for my response.

  “Tell away,” I say with a smile.

  “The Greeks have some of the oldest stories of Aerlings. They called them the Anemoi and thought they were wind gods. At first, there were only four. The Greeks believed each one represented one of the four cardinal directions. I think they thought they had something to do with the seasons or weather, too, but I don’t remember all of that stuff.”

  I can hardly fault her for not remembering every detail. This little seven year old girl constantly amazes me with how much information she has stored away in her brain. “Just tell me what you remember.”

  Molly bounces a bit as she readjusts her position on the floor. Her obvious excitement to share her knowledge makes me smile.

  “The four original Aerlings, or Anemoi, each had a name. My favorite is Zephyrus. He was the god of the west wind. He brought the spring each year, and the plants and flowers. He was the nicest of all the gods.” Molly’s eyes turn faraway, and I can imagine her thoughts are turned toward yearning for that type of life. “I think if I was special enough to be a wind god, I would want to be in charge of spring. It’s my favorite.”

  I smile at Molly. “You’d be the perfect choice for spring.”

  Beaming at my compliment, Molly gets back to her explanation. “Boreas brought the north wind, but he wasn’t very nice. People called him the Devouring One. If people didn’t want to give him something, he just took it anyway, and he didn’t care who he hurt. There are lots of stories about him. People’s belief in him lasted a lot longer than the eighteen years he actually lived on Earth. I can’t imagine why anyone worshipped him, though.”

  I shake my head. “People sometimes admire someone who takes what they want. They see that kind of behavior as a sign of strength.”

  Molly stares at me. “That’s stupid.”

  “I agree.” I smile at her and harbor a secret wish that she will always stay so innocent.

  “Anyway,” Molly continues, “the other two were Notus and Eurus. Notus brought the south wind. He could be good or bad. He might bring warmth and rain, or he might bring a super hot summer that kills all the plants and stuff.” Molly glances in the direction of Mrs. Britton, then lowers her voice and leans closer to me. “He sounds like, Amalia. She’s crazy.”

  Having had more than a few run-ins with the Britton’s oldest daughter, Amalia’s, volatile emotions in just the short time I’ve been here, I nod in agreement. Evie was always a little high strung, but that’s only in comparison to Olivia’s rock steady temperament. I always thought the term “hormonal teenager” was a bit of an exaggeration until I met Amalia. Add in a vicious mean streak, and it’s no wonder Amalia frightens Molly.

  “Aside from knowing he brought the east wind, there aren’t very many stories about Eurus. People considered him bad luck. I’m not really sure why.”

  She shrugs as if that’s the end of the conversation, but once again her eyes dart over to Mrs. Britton. In a barely audible voice, she says, “I think what really happened was the same thing that happened to the last Aerling like you. He must not have been trained properly and people died. I bet that’s why they thought he was unlucky.”

  “You think Eurus was a ruling Aerling?” I ask quietly.

  Molly nods energetically, making her look a bit like a bobble head doll. “I think all four of them were like you.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Mason,” Molly says sounding somewhat irritated, “I know what I’m capable of, and I know what other normal Aerlings are capable of. We would never be confused for gods. But you… you’re super powerful, Mason, way more than you realize. Only someone like you could make people worship them like gods.”

  Molly’s irritation carries over to me and doubles back on her. “You keep saying things like that, but I can’t even manage to call my power consistently. I only called it that once out of sheer desperation.” I shove my fingers through my hair roughly. “I should have been the one that died that night, not the Sentinel.”

  “What?” Mrs. Britton demands, suddenly right next to us.

  Startled, I jump back. Molly sits across from me with wide eyes. I think, at first, that she is reacting to Mrs. Britton’s unexpected appearance as well, but then I realize she’s staring at me. I don’t understand why until I replay what I just said and realize my mistake.

  “What did you just say?” Mrs. Britton demands.

  I desperately want to backpedal, but I know I’ve painted myself into a corner now. My head drops as I curse my stupidity.

  “You killed a Sentinel?” Molly asks. Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the dead silence of the house seems to make every word echo.

  Looking up, I know that no matter how hard I try to brush this off, neither the hard-faced woman nor the awe-struck seven-year-old in front of me will back down. Running my fingers through my hair, I attempt to rein in my speeding thoughts. I look up and meet their eyes feeling unusually small.

  “It’s the reason I’m here,” I begin. “The Sentinels found me. One of them attacked us. He threatened to kill Olivia and Evie if I didn’t reveal myself.”

  Mrs. Britton scowls. “They should have been willing to die to preserve your safety. All Caretakers …”

  “They aren’t Caretakers!” I shout. Mrs. Britton backs off in surprise. I take a deep breath and try to unclench my hands. “They aren’t Caretakers. My original Caretakers were all murdered when I was five years old. Olivia found me. She hid me and protected me.”

  “All this time?” Mrs. Britton questions. I can hear the disbelief in her voice. It sours my stomach and curls my lip into a snarl.

  “Yes. For twelve years she protected me.” I shake my head in frustration. “You think that being a Caretaker means you’re better than everyone else, more capable… but you’re not.”

  Mrs. Britton bristles, but I ignore her.

  “You all feel this intense need to protect Aerlings and make sure they go home safely because of your oaths, but Olivia didn’t need to be a Caretaker to protect me. All she had to do was love me enough.”

  The haughtiness I felt from Mrs. Britton stays firmly rooted in her straight back and austere posture, but Molly softens visibly. Her lips curl up in a wistful smile. I reach out and take her little hand in mine.

  “And just so you know,” I say quietly, “Olivia was mor
e than willing to die to save my life, but I wasn’t willing to let her. I chose to reveal myself in order to save her because I knew my life wouldn’t be worth anything if I let her die when I could have saved her.”

  Finally, Mrs. Britton’s shoulders loosen just a little. “And did you?” she asks. “Save her?”

  I nod, and then shake my head slowly. “I don’t know how I did, but yes, I saved her. In a moment of panic and fury, I somehow called the air to me, shaped it into a dagger, and did what I had to.”

  Molly squeezes my hand. I stare at her fingers wrapped so tightly around mine. I can feel her hope, her desperation pouring into me. There seems to be a million different sources of her emotions, but somehow I instinctively understand them all. She wants not just to be protected and kept safe until her journey home, but to be loved so much that protecting her isn’t about some oath or promise. She wants it be about her. She wants it to come from love, not duty.

  I look up, intending to promise Molly that she can have what she wants, but the sight of Mrs. Britton trembling before me erases everything else from my mind. Panic creeps into my heart as I first wonder if something is wrong with her. One hand is clenched to her chest, and I try to recall the signs of a heart attack I know I learned sitting beside Olivia in the first aid training her mom signed her up for a few years ago. I reach out to Mrs. Britton, and I’m surprised when she flinches back.

  “Is everything okay?” I question.

  Now Molly is looking at her foster mother as well, fear lining her smooth features. “Mrs. Britton, are you okay?”

  “How could they not tell me?” she whispers. Her eyes seem vacant, staring at something we can’t see.

  “Tell you what?” I ask.

  Molly scrunches her face. “We knew he was from the ruling class. You told me before you left to go get Mason.”

  Mrs. Britton shakes her head frantically. “No. No. They were wrong.”