by Ally Condie
Logan’s face crumpled. “Oh no. Nico, man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want that to happen. If there’s any—”
“Didn’t want it to happen?!” Nico exploded. “Your father is the whole reason we’re getting kicked out of town.”
“I already apologized for that,” Logan shot back, heat rising in his voice. “I told him to stop, but we both know their feud has a life of its own.”
“Awesome,” Nico said bitterly. “Well now I get a life of my own in Portland. And it’s your family’s fault.”
Logan’s face turned bright red. “If your dad hadn’t made an enemy of the whole town with those stupid owls, none of this would’ve happened! You’ve never once admitted that your father dug his own hole by making everyone in Timbers furious. It wasn’t just my dad that wanted him gone, you know!”
“He led the pack,” Nico replied coldly. “And used dirty tricks to rig the system.”
Logan bumped chest-to-chest into Nico. “Who are you calling dirty?” he asked softly, a dangerous glint entering his eyes.
“In your family, who isn’t?” Nico spat back, his hands balling into fists.
Opal shoved between them. “That’s enough, both of you! Everyone needs to calm down and take a breath. We can settle this, if you’d just—”
She was cut off by a deep growl that fluttered Nico’s stomach. Startled, he glanced down the hallway, then nearly shouted in astonishment.
A large black dog was standing at the opposite end of the corridor. As Nico watched, it padded closer, exposing ice-white canines and hard yellow eyes. The animal approached slowly, a deep rumble echoing from its jaws. A whiff of something spicy—almost peppery—filled the air. The lights in the hallway seemed to dim.
Nico felt goosebumps erupt all over his body. That smell …
Tyler, frozen in place, spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Why … why is Cujo inside our school?”
“He doesn’t look friendly,” Emma whispered back. A thin sheen of sweat had appeared on her forehead.
The animal advanced another few steps, golden eyes gleaming. The group reflexively backed up.
“Okay, so …” Logan was dry-washing his hands. “A mongrel got in somehow. We just have to scare it away. Or alert someone. Before it chews on us.”
“That’s pretty big for a dog,” Opal breathed. “Too big, guys.”
“It’s a wolf,” Nico hissed. “Must be down from the hills outside of town. They never enter occupied buildings like this unless … unless something’s not right with them.”
“What, like rabies?” Emma whimpered.
The wolf stalked closer, then stopped, no more than twenty feet away.
Nico stayed very still, avoiding the animal’s gaze. He didn’t want to set it off. But there was nowhere to run. The corridor was empty, with all doors shut. No one had the slightest idea what was happening in the hallway. If this wolf attacked, they wouldn’t be able to get away in time.
The wolf sat back on its haunches. Glared with unblinking yellow eyes. Its lips peeled back, and Nico was struck by an impossible thought—that the animal was smirking at them.
The lights seemed to dim another notch. Shadows drifted toward the wolf, making it harder to see. The yellow eyes flared like a strobe light. The piquant scent increased.
Nico blinked as the wolf’s body flickered somehow, almost shifting in phase. Then it stepped forward, breaking the spell.
Flashes blazed inside Nico’s head. He rubbed his forehead in shock.
“What just happened?” Tyler whimpered, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “It’s like I just stared into the sun.”
Beside him, Emma gasped. “Did … You guys? I think that thing got bigger.”
“Not a wolf,” Opal whispered. “It might be a figment.”
Logan grimaced. “But whose then?” Opal shook her head.
The creature bayed suddenly, shattering the stillness. Everyone jumped.
Nico was done waiting to be chomped. “Run!”
As one, the group spun and tore down the hallway in the opposite direction.
Nico heard a sharp growl, then the click of long claws raking the linoleum. Rounding a corner, he spotted the cafeteria straight ahead. He pointed without breaking stride. “In there!”
Another earsplitting yowl. Nico glanced back, saw that the creature was stalking them at a trot, letting them flee before it. But not get away. The strange grin was still plastered on its lips. The wolf’s yellow eyes pulsed with a mysterious inner radiance. The reek of spices swept over Nico and he gagged.
Those eyes. That smell. Where …
Logan reached the doors first. He slung one open and waved everyone inside. “Hurry!”
Everyone scrambled into the lunchroom in a mass of frightened limbs. Logan slammed the door shut. Opal spotted a janitor’s cart, yanked out a mop, and shoved it through the door handles in a makeshift barricade. Then she and Logan backed away to where the rest of the group was huddled a few steps beyond the threshold.
Something heavy pressed against the doors. The mop held.
A beat passed, then a terrible screeching sound filled the air as something tore at the metal.
Abruptly, the noise ceased.
Nico swallowed, unsure. “I think … maybe that thing is …”
A fist pounded against the door, causing everyone to jump. An angry female voice boomed from outside the cafeteria. “Who’s in there? You’d better come out right now, or you’ll be living in detention every day from now on!”
Nico paled. “Oh no. It’s Principal Kisner.”
Tyler put a palm over his eyes. “Better let her in. I’m guessing Dr. Wolfenstein isn’t still out there with her, begging for treats.”
“Great,” Emma mumbled, shoving her hands in her pockets. “This is all we need right now.”
Opal removed the mop and opened the door. Principal Kisner was standing in the hallway with her arms crossed, practically shaking with fury. “I want to know who did this … this … disgraceful vandalism!”
As Nico exited, he saw deep gouges scoring the metal doors. Twin swipes, like claw marks.
But claws can’t carve through solid metal.
Can they?
“We didn’t do it!” Logan protested. “There was a giant wolf! It was chasing us! Honest!”
Principal Kisner glared at him. She spoke through gritted teeth. “My office. Immediately.”
They had no choice but to comply.
Nico moved to follow his friends, but paused, shooting a glance back at the doors. Those scratches were incredibly deep, even for a rogue figment. And what kept bothering him about the creature’s eyes?
“Nico Holland!”
Nico winced, then hurried after the others, mind swirling with unsettling thoughts.
What in the heck were they dealing with now?
6
OPAL
The Torchbearers stood me up.
Every single one of them. Opal couldn’t believe it.
She’d texted the group during last period:
Houseboat meeting at 4 p.m. No excuses.
Looks like they found some excuses.
Appearing shaken, Principal Kisner had marched them all to her office and interrogated the group about the gouges on the cafeteria doors. Meanwhile, word spread around school that some kind of creature was stalking the halls. If tensions had been bad before, they were a disaster now. Kids were so spooked they refused to change classes.
It didn’t help that Opal and her friends were the only witnesses. No one else caught sight of the wolf, but that didn’t stop Carson from working the rumor mill, talking about how the Torch necklace weirdos had summoned a pet monster to play with and lost control. Opal thought even a few teachers had regarded them warily as the day dragged on.
All in all, things couldn’t have gone worse.
Which was why she’d called the meeting. Plus, Opal desperately wanted to sort things out between Nico and Logan. That wound would fester if they didn’t
confront it head-on, but neither boy so much as glanced at each other after leaving the principal’s office. Another catastrophe they didn’t need.
So here she was. Alone.
Maybe they’re all just late?
Yet that wasn’t even what bothered Opal the most. She began reviewing her notes on Yvette Dumont to avoid thinking about what Emma had told them in the hallway.
Nico. Moving. To Portland. In less than two months!
Opal squeezed her eyes shut. A hole in her stomach threatened to consume her.
Somehow, that problem felt too big. Bigger than the Rift, or the Darkdeep, or strange wolves that seemed to twist and change right in front of your eyes. Opal knew she was being ridiculous—those issues were way more important than a friend moving away—but she couldn’t seem to face the idea of Nico’s leaving town. If he goes, everything will change.
Opal flipped through the closest book she could grab, examining the same few snippets she’d found weeks ago. It wasn’t much, and none of it groundbreaking.
Yvette Dumont had been shipwrecked off the coast of Oregon in 1741. She became the first Torchbearer. She’d placed Thing in its jar to save the little green alien, but then kept Thing there against its will, believing the creature’s presence on Earth created a balance between worlds that kept the Rift sealed. And that’s where the trail went dead.
Or had, until yesterday. Opal opened the worn leather notebook she’d found on the houseboat and now used every day. She recorded two new facts Tyler had discovered in the Torchbearer office: Yvette Dumont was also the first Beastmaster. She suffered a great loss at the time of the Tear.
Opal gnawed on her braid, idly coloring in the hand-drawn flower at the bottom of the page with a purple marker. She’d drawn opal stones in the opposite corners to match the aster blossoms, perhaps as a way to make the notebook feel more like her own. But pretty sketches didn’t help solve either of the mysteries plaguing her.
What happened to Yvette Dumont, and why had Thing sent that cryptic note?
With a snort of frustration, Opal glanced at her latest notation.
The Tear.
That’s what old Torchbearers called the moment the Rift first opened.
But why had a giant rip in space-time occurred at all?
Minutes ticked by as she stared at nothing, working the question over in her head. Getting nowhere yet again, she glanced at the clock. Opal told herself the others were just having a hard time getting away—everyone’s parents were on edge, and paying closer attention to vague excuses and long absences. A trip to the principal’s office definitely hadn’t helped, although no one was actually suggesting they made those scratch marks.
But Opal had picked this time of day strategically. Most adults weren’t home from work yet.
And really. No one could make it?
She sat back with a loud sigh. There was so much to do.
The houseboat was a mess. People had been rummaging through display cases and chests—looking for items that might help with their research—but not putting things back. No one had updated the inventory in weeks, or made notes about Dark Halloween in the Order’s official logbook. And they all kept missing their Darkdeep-watching shifts.
Meanwhile, who knew if the Rift was still boiling with Takers at the bottom of the ocean?
Opal had missed a watch herself last week—Kathryn Walsh had stopped her daughter in the driveway and demanded they watch a self-defense video together. Like Tae-Bo would help them fight off figments.
She rose dejectedly and trudged toward the trick wall panel, passing the empty pedestal. Opal ran a hand across its smooth surface, her fingers tracing the circle where Thing’s jar had rested for so many years. In the end, the tiny alien had helped them survive. It had proven to be an ally and friend.
But did Thing really expect her to act on nothing but a scribbled warning?
Probably. That was how the confounding little creature operated. Opal smiled ruefully as she tripped the catch to the hidden staircase. Might as well do a quick check on the Darkdeep. She had one foot on the top riser when the houseboat’s front door slammed. Opal heard someone bound through the foyer, the entry curtain swishing aside as Emma burst into the showroom.
“Sorrysorrysorry!” she called out, tossing down her bookbag. “I’m super late, I know.”
“Too many selfies?” Opal snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. At least Emma was here, which was more than could be said for the boys.
“No,” Emma replied crisply, eyes flashing. Pond mist had wilted her curly blond hair, and her cheeks were bright red from the cold. “My mom needed help at the store. Dad’s not feeling great. Plus, I had to go over everything about the animal attack at school. I have the distinct impression that my mother does not believe me.”
“I’m sorry,” Opal said, and meant it. “My mother hounded me, too. Is everything okay?”
“Ha! Hounded. Good one. And yeah, things are fine—my dad just has the flu, I think. Wait, are we the only ones here?”
“Yes. And it’s probably time for me to head home anyway.”
Emma bit her bottom lip. “Sorry again for being late. What did you want to meet about? The wolf? Did you notice how it, like, changed when you looked at it?” Opal watched a shudder wrack her friend’s body.
“It wasn’t a normal wolf, for sure.” Opal took a deep breath. “I just felt like we needed to talk. There’s a lot going on, and we have to fix this thing between Nico and Logan.”
Emma nodded sadly. “That fight was horrible. It could have been any of us.”
“Um, not really.” Opal gave Emma an odd look. “Logan’s dad actually pushed for the transfer.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Frowning, Emma began fiddling with her hoodie’s zipper. “We’re all way overstressed. Even you and I are sniping at each other these days.” Her expression turned sheepish. “That’s part of the reason why I film Emma-mazing! sometimes, even when I know I should be handling Torchbearer stuff. It’s a break from the pressure. And with my show, I’m the only one in charge, which is nice for a change.”
Opal understood. There were times when she wanted to throw her hands up and quit this whole mess.
Emma dropped to a knee and opened her backpack, digging around inside. “I almost forgot—I found something interesting. About the Nantes family.”
“Really?” Opal crouched next to her. She knew Logan wanted to investigate his family’s Torchbearer connections alone, but she couldn’t help being curious.
Emma nodded without looking up. “I was running searches on Reddit, scanning for any Beast-related threads that might cause us trouble—nothing came up, by the way—when I found a link to an old property management archive for Timbers. Turns out, there are records that go all the way back to the town’s founding, but the earliest ones are only in hard copy at the library.” She rocked back on her heels and held out a sheaf of legal-sized papers with grid-like drawings on them. “So I went in for a look. You can’t check any of this stuff out, but I got Old Lady Johnson to let me make copies of the oldest documents. She even let me do it myself, which I couldn’t believe.”
Opal frowned at the sketches. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at.”
“Plats.”
Opal raised an eyebrow.
Emma winked. “Parcels of land. When they first mapped out Timbers, back in the 1700s, they wrote down who got which lots, mostly along Otter Creek. That’s what Mrs. Johnson said, anyway. But look!” She tapped a square of faded handwriting. “Edward Nantes, craftsman, .78 acres. The Row.” Her gaze rose to meet Opal’s. “That must be the original Overlook Row!”
“Cool,” Opal said, as supportively as she could. “But we knew Logan’s family has been here since the beginning. There’s a statue of Edward Nantes in town square, and they still live on Overlook Row now. If not in their original house, then one just like it.”
Emma held up a finger in riposte. “Proof of something is never pointless,” sh
e said primly.
Opal nodded, her eyes drifting to another lot farther down the street. Its label jumped out at her. An electric shock arced along her spine.
Y. Dumont, chemist, .63 acres. The Row.
“Whoa.” Opal stabbed the listing with her finger.
“Holy crap.” Emma shifted for a better look. “How did I miss that?”
“That has to be our girl, right?” Opal asked gleefully. Finally! More about Yvette Dumont!
Emma’s face glowed. “Makes sense. She was a founder, and had to live somewhere.”
Opal recorded the land info in her notebook, then drew a rough copy of the plat on a second page. She could barely contain her excitement. They’d suspected Yvette had lived in Timbers, of course—where else? There were no other towns nearby in that time period. But this confirmed it. And now they knew her occupation. Maybe this is the break we needed …
“That isn’t your new house, is it?” Emma nodded at Opal’s sketch. The Walshes had recently moved to Overlook Row, a fact Opal’s mother liked to tell anyone who’d listen.
“Sadly, no.” Opal smiled wryly. That would’ve been cool. For a moment, she fantasized about finding a trapdoor in her bedroom, one that led to a Torchbearer treasure vault. “Our house was built in 1824. My mom talks about it nonstop, so I know the exact date. Plus, we’re on the other end of the street.” She leaned closer to the plat, scanning the tidy, antiquated writing. “It’s neat that they wrote professions on here. Is that common with these kinds of records?”
Emma shrugged. “No idea.”
“I wonder what a chemist did back then,” Opal mused. “Was it someone who actually did stuff with chemicals? Or was it, like, an old-school pharmacist?” She felt like she’d heard the term used that way before.
“Either way, this is a very interesting discovery.” Emma lifted her chin imperiously.
Opal chuckled. “Yes, it definitely is. Great find, Em.”
Emma’s eyes positively sparked.
Opal looked back at the schematics. “Do you—would it be okay if I—”
“Take them,” Emma said with a snort. But something in her tone caught up to Opal midway through gathering the papers. “Hold on. What’s the catch?”
