The Lost Boys

by Lilian Carmine

  And then everything froze completely. I glanced around and the world was standing still, as if holding its breath. Tristan was frozen in his spot, and all the boys too. My eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch a sign of movement, but the only thing moving was me. And then a stabbing pain shot through my wrist, making me wince. I grabbed my wrist and pressed my fingers hard against the dark tattoo marking it, trying to make the throbbing stop.

  When I looked up, Vigil was there, standing a few feet away from me, watching me with his unblinking black eyes. So he was back; we hadn’t banished him at all. I instinctively stepped in front of Tristan, trying to block Vigil’s path to him, the pocket-knife still clutched tight in my hand. The pain increased in my wrist, flowing gradually up to my hand and elbow now. But Vigil didn’t show any sign of wanting to approach or attack us. He just stood where he was, and looked, to my utter surprise, almost like he was … sad?

  Was this a trick? I would have expected him to be angry and vindictive, lashing out at us with his might. But he remained still, only tilting his head a little, like he used to do a long time ago, a quirk of his that always made me think of him as bird-like. It was like a nervous tick. I watched him with extreme caution; Tristan’s life was on the line here.

  Maybe it was time to conclude the spell, before Vigil could try anything on us. I needed some of my blood now to remake our bond. I pulled my knife slowly up and leaned the blade closer to my hand.

  Vigil’s eyes followed my movement and lingered on the flicker of the blade. He sighed sadly, holding his hands behind his back in a non-threatening stance. “Please, I wish you wouldn’t do that, Joe,” he said, his dark locks falling softly over his pale smooth face.

  I squinted my eyes at him. Yeah, I’ll bet you wish I wouldn’t! I’ll bet you wish I won’t renew the spell again, and win my guardian powers back. Best of luck next time, then, pal, I thought to myself. But before I could press the blade any harder against my hand, he spoke again.

  “It will not do you any good, and I would hate to see you hurt. I really would,” he said. “How is your fist, by the way? I hope you weren’t in too much pain after that punch you gave me.”

  Was he mocking me? I only saw sincerity in his eyes. He was truly worried about me. Was he trying to play the nice guy, then, to get back on my good side?

  “It was a very powerful spell you cast when you threw your punch that day,” he said. “It was raw and unintentional, but very powerful. You managed to disarm me and scatter the pieces everywhere. It was very … unpleasant for me,” he continued, but he smiled a little, like he was somehow proud of my feat. “But you aren’t ready to yield that type of force yet. A spellcaster should be objective, trained and prepared before handling that amount of magic, and you were none of those things. I imagine it cost you something. Magic always comes with a price. I hope you didn’t suffer much,” he said, looking worried again.

  I removed the blade from my hand and glanced at my wrist. The black tattoo was still there and the pain was shooting through my entire arm now. I decided to be honest. “After I punched you, this appeared and spread all over my arm. Tristan made it go away, except for this small mark in my wrist.” I twisted my wrist up, showing him the black lines on my skin. “This one won’t go away. It started hurting when you showed up,” I said.

  He stared at my wrist. “Like I said, a spell of that amplitude leaves its mark. I do not think it will go away. It is the price you have paid. Your intentions were pure. But the consequences of casting it may never fade away. The fact that you used it against me could be the reason it hurts in my presence. May I see it closer?” he asked, but didn’t move from his place, waiting for my authorization first.

  I eyed him suspiciously. He seemed genuinely concerned, but how far could I trust him? He was the enemy. He noticed my hesitation and the sadness in his eyes returned.

  “I will not do anything to harm you or the boy while we are in here,” he vowed. “You have my word,” he said.

  I frowned, not understanding why he referred to us as being “in here”, but nodded all the same, walking closer to him. I didn’t want him anywhere near Tristan. I reached Vigil and held out my wrist. I clenched my teeth hard, trying not to give away how much pain I was in. He reached out and took my wrist in his hands, stroking the dark lines with his thumb. The pain stopped as soon his hand came in contact with mine.

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing.

  “I am sorry, Joe,” he said, staring down sadly. “I cannot undo the mark.”

  I snatched my wrist away from him, and the pain returned. So this “thing” would stay on my wrist for ever, to always remind me of the cost of using magic. Would it also always hurt in his presence, but stop if he touched me? I took a cautious step backwards and glanced quickly around me. Everything remained frozen still.

  “What is happening here? Did you stop time?” I asked, worried. For how long could he keep this up? Could he stop time for ever?

  “No, this is not time holding still. We have side-stepped present time for now. Like stepping out of a flowing stream. This is where the places between dimensions are. A patch of solid ground between the water streams, you may say,” he said thoughtfully. “It is a little tricky to explain.” He scratched his head and I almost smiled at seeing him make such a human gesture.

  “Okay, so this is like a backstage area for a gig,” I said, trying not to be freaked out.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You have always had a way with words,” he mused. “Yes, I think you can call it that.”

  “Why have you done this, Vigil?” I asked.

  He took a deep breath and a stone bench appeared out of nowhere and he sat on it, motioning for me to follow. I needed to keep in mind he was still a threat. A being with great power, capable of side-stepping time and realities, and making benches appear out of thin air. This wasn’t a friendly little talk.

  “I need to explain some things to you, Joe,” he said ominously. “Would you mind sitting with me for a minute?”

  “Okay. It’s not like I have a choice here, is it?” I muttered quietly, still holding my blade tightly in my hands. I sat on the bench, as far away from him as possible, and glanced up at Tristan, standing still in the middle of the plaza. He looked foggy, blurred, like an old faded statue.

  “Before we get back to your time, you need to know what is really happening now, Joe,” he said quietly. “I will be completely honest with you. After you hear all I have to say, you can make your final decision.”

  “Decision about what?” I asked nervously.

  “About what you want me to do.”

  “Are you saying I get to decide what happens next?”

  “Yes. But you have to hear me out first,” he pleaded.

  “This isn’t a trick of yours, is it?” I asked, still suspicious.

  “No. I do not do tricks. I do not lie.”

  “You tricked me with your frail looks, trying to make me think you were weak, but you’re really not. And you’re not remotely human, but you’ve made yourself look like one. That’s a lie of sorts,” I pointed out.

  “When I was first assigned to this task, I was late. I arrived here and you two were already gone,” he said. “I had your trail, though, and tried to follow it. But the boy was guarded from me; I couldn’t track him. I had no way to get to him, but I had you. At least when you were asleep, I could get to you. But then you surprised me. I could not force his location out of you. You were his guardian, and with that came a fierce protection spell. I was truly shocked the first time you struck me. I had never been hurt before,” he said, looking down at his feet.

  “So I tried to approach you in a more appealing way,” he continued. “I thought that maybe if you weren’t scared of me, you would listen, you would understand my reasoning and capitulate. I was not trying to trick you into thinking I was weak, Joe. I was trying to make you see you could trust me. That was when I had the idea to change into this human appearance, a yo
ung male body that you could identify with and feel more comfortable around. To talk to,” he said, crossing his hands, his eyes glazing at the distance. “And you kept giving me hints about human behavior, what to do, what to change. I tried to understand your species, so you could accept me more easily and help me do my job. I was sure that if you understood the importance of keeping things in order. … It was a different approach for me to this job, but I believed it was going to be more effective in the end, more so than forcing it out of you,” he explained.

  “Well, you’ve managed the mimicking pretty well. I almost believed you cared,” I said quietly.

  “Oh, the caring part wasn’t pretending. That was when things started to go wrong for me,” he said, still gazing into the distance. “Somehow a few emotions began to seep through. It was very subtle at first, and I didn’t realize what was happening. But then I started to get these … feelings,” he said, making it sound like it was a virulent disease. “It was very aggravating. I didn’t know what to do, how to deal with it. It is an alien thing for us. Emotions. They lead to irrational chaotic behavior. You may not know that, but we frown upon chaotic behavior,” he said, looking at me with serious, scared eyes.

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that,” I said trying to keep a straight face.

  “And I think it all started after you gave me a name,” he said, starting to get really agitated.

  “I really don’t understand what the fuss is all about!” I said, a tad aggravated myself now. “It’s just a stupid name. Vigil. It doesn’t mean anything!”

  His face softened with a small smile. “Yes. I am Vigil now,” he whispered gently, almost like he was scared to say it out loud but at the same time proud of it. “You gave me a name, and when you did this, you also gave me an identity. I am no longer a member of the masses. I am someone now. Individuality brings personality, so I have discovered.

  “After I realized this, it was already too late to make it stop,” he muttered with a contemplative expression. “I thought that having a name would mean more power: every time you mentioned my name, I felt it. Every time you feared me, I grew stronger. Your fear and his …” he said, pointing at Tristan, “… it was like the most powerful fuel to me. But it is not just fear but love too. Every strong emotion is a potent energy source, if you direct it to a name.” He laughed but there was an edge of mania to it.

  “I have discovered, though, that with the name comes the emotions. Like a virus, taking over everything. I am ruled by chaos inside now. I’ve become the thing I have worked against all my existence. How can I fix this? How can I fix myself? I cannot. Not without ceasing to exist. And I do not wish to die,” he affirmed. “And I have discovered I am capable of emotions too. I … I really do care about you, Joe.”

  His voice was hard, like he was trying to fight against it with all his will. He looked down at his feet, his shoulders hunched and head down in defeat. “I think I … I love you,” he said quietly. “It is very strange, and alien and new. And I don’t know what to do with it. I hope I will be able to fight it. I’m sure it will pass, when I’m not around you as much,” he said, smiling a little, like he was hopeful that he really would heal himself of love. “I asked around for a good remedy for viruses and people told me that chicken noodle soup is good,” he said, puzzled. “It doesn’t make much sense, but I am willing to try.”

  I smiled softly at him. He was talking about love as if it was actually a sickness, a disease.

  “So, Joe, if you really ask me not to do my job now, I will accept your wish. I will do as you say,” he stated plainly, cutting into my thoughts. I stiffened and looked at him, not believing in my ears.

  “You will? You really will?”

  “Yes. But I need to tell you something first. If I don’t finish today what I came here to do, I will have to go back and report it to my colleagues. I don’t work alone. As I’ve told you before, there are many out there like me. They will know that nothing was fixed here. They will want to know why I haven’t fixed it. As soon I explain, I’m doomed. I will be chaos myself, something out of its natural order. They will ‘fix’ me then.”

  “Fix as in …” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “Cease to exist.”

  “They will kill you.”

  “If you prefer to put it in those terms,” he said and smiled at me.

  “If you ask me, I will comply. But I need to know, Joe. Now you know what will happen if I attend to your wish, would you still ask me not to do my job?”

  He looked me directly in the eyes, and I stared back at him in utter shock. My mind was racing, trying to absorb everything he was saying to me. I opened my mouth but no words came out. I would do anything to save Tristan, but asking someone else to die in his place was stepping over the line, wasn’t it?

  Maybe I could still renew the bond spell and get my guardian powers back. Vigil could say he was unable to finish his job, then, and it wouldn’t be his fault; it wouldn’t be his choice.

  Vigil was looking at me seriously, waiting for my answer.

  “No,” I answered. “I would never ask for you to die, Vigil.”

  He let out a long, deep breath, his eyes shining with emotion. He nodded and stood up. “Thank you for telling me that. I needed to know. I would still do it, Joe, no matter the consequences to me. I want you to know that,” he said, extending his hand to me.

  I took his hand and stood up, the stabbing needles in my wrist stopping momentarily because he was holding my hand now. As soon we stood up, the bench disappeared out of sight.

  “But I have other reasons for having to take Tristan away from you tonight,” he continued, and I pulled my hand away abruptly. He looked surprised for a second, and I saw hurt in his eyes, but then he turned and waved. Suddenly Tristan unfroze and stumbled, looking around in confusion at the same time that his wristband snapped and broke into pieces, black beads falling softly over the grass beneath his feet. Tristan frowned angrily when he spotted Vigil right by my side, and started in my direction. He was about to say something but stopped when Vigil began to speak again.

  “And now this is the part that ‘he’ needs to know to make his decision,” Vigil said, turning to look at Tristan, sadness shining in his fathomless black eyes.

  Chapter Forty

  Winter Song

  “You gave me your word you wouldn’t hurt him!” I shouted, stepping away from Vigil and walking in Tristan’s direction.

  “I will not do anything without both of your permission,” Vigil vouched again. “But he needs to know this, before he decides.”

  “Know what? What is he talking about?” Tristan asked, grabbing my hand and stepping in front of me protectively.

  “You two plan to renew the bond spell tonight, to reinforce your deal with Death once again,” Vigil stated. “You should not try to do this. You are not aware of the consequences.”

  “Why shouldn’t we? You are just trying to trick us, because you won’t be able to stop us if we do this!” I said angrily, flipping the blade and pressing it to my hand again.

  Vigil just stood still and stared unblinkingly at us. Then he shifted only his eyes to Tristan. “If the spell is renewed, my term here will be over after tonight, but then my colleagues will send another to do my job. And I must warn you: they will not handle this as badly as I have.”

  His expression was urgent now. “They will be insensible to your distress, destitute of affection, and unmoved by any of your appeals. As soon as they realize they cannot track you in the physical world, as happened to me, they will attack Joey with all their might in her sleep. She is responsible for the spell that brought you back; she is the one they will punish; she is the key to restoring the natural order, and they will never leave her in peace. She might be able to break the connection at first, as she did with me, but eventually she will become tired. They will break through then,” he said, and now his voice had an edge of desperation.

  “They will torture your location out of her. Every ni
ght, if they have to. She won’t hold out longer than a week. Even though they’d be doing it in her dreams, in her mind it will be very real. They will break her. Can you bear to see her fighting and in pain every night? Can you put her in this position? Because if you go through with this spell tonight, that is what you are going to do to her,” he said desperately, begging for Tristan to understand.

  I looked at Tristan. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. He stared at Vigil for a long time, his eyes as urgent and despairing as Vigil’s.

  “We don’t have much time, you need to make your decision now,” Vigil urged, and Tristan still remained quiet. “You have to understand. I’m trying to protect her. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

  Tristan clenched his teeth and let out a harsh breath. Then he turned to me and glanced down at my hand still clutching my pen-knife. He took the blade carefully from me and tossed it far away from us.

  “Tristan, what are you doing?” I yelled at him, understanding too late what he had decided to do. “You can’t do this to me! Please, Tris!” I pleaded.

  He cupped his hands around my face and looked deep in my eyes. “Joe, do you remember what I said to you, a long time ago? That I meant you no harm when I chose this life a year ago, that I would never willingly do anything bad to you?”

  “Yes, but …” I pleaded desperately.

  “No, Joey. I can’t go through with this spell tonight, not knowing that it will mean getting you hurt. I do want to live, but not at this cost. I won’t do it,” he said with determination, and then he kissed me with so much love and adoration it made my heart break. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine,” he whispered as his lips parted from mine. His eyes were hard, purposeful. He was trying to be ready for what he needed to do. He turned and started walking towards Vigil.