by Ally Condie
“Guess I’ll open it, right?” he said. Opal was so distracted, he was getting a little worried. It’s been a tough night.
The others nodded, so Nico undid the clasp. Inside was a single object: a thin bronze compass. Nico hefted the battered instrument and found that it still worked. The compass was about the size of his palm, with the cardinal directions engraved directly into the metal.
A fifth marking was also etched into the casing: the traditional Torchbearer symbol appeared at forty-five degrees east of south, equidistant from both points. Shrugging, Nico handed the compass around and everyone gave it a look. But when it reached Opal, she showed little interest, lost in her thoughts as she passed the artifact on without more than a cursory glance.
“Okay, Opal,” Nico said loudly, startling her more than he’d expected. “Out with it. What’s bothering you?”
“Huh?” Her gaze shifted up and to the right. “What? Oh, nothing. It’s … never mind.”
“Nope.” Nico crossed his arms. “You wanted to come back here for some reason, and it clearly wasn’t to inspect this bag or talk about the Beast. Something’s on your mind. It’s time to tell your friends about it.”
Opal said nothing for a long moment, then nodded slowly. After a deep breath, she straightened and addressed the others. “I found those torches because a voice in my head told me where they were hidden.”
Dead silence.
Opal’s gaze moved intently from face to face, daring anyone to speak.
Finally, Nico cracked. “You mean … like … your intuition?”
“No. I mean, something spoke inside my head. It said where to look.”
Tyler stiffened, his voice dropping. “Oh no. A ghost?” He wheeled on the rest of the group. “I told you guys we shouldn’t have been messing around in a graveyard this close to Halloween. But did any of you listen?!”
“Not a ghost,” Opal shot back. “At least, I don’t think so.” She went quiet again, as if debating something in her mind. Finally, “I think I know who it was, too.”
Nico ran a hand over his mouth. This was not what he’d expected. Opal thought she was hearing voices?
Emma moved closer to Opal and took her hand. Opal barely seemed to notice.
“Well?” Logan said. “Who was it, then? Elvis? Casper?”
“Don’t be mean,” Emma snapped.
“I’m not,” Logan said defensively. “It’s … just … unusual. To hear other people. Talking. In your head.”
Emma scooched around to catch Opal’s eye. “Just tell us what happened, okay? Don’t worry about how it sounds. We’ve been through enough bonkers stuff since finding this place that one more thing isn’t going to blow our minds. I mean, we just got done battling a sea monster. The lid’s kinda off for weirdness.”
Opal took a deep breath, then her jawline firmed. She pointed to the pedestal behind Nico.
“That thing. The … Thing in the jar.”
Everyone whirled to look. The little green creature was floating languidly in the viscous fluid.
“You think a dead green blob creature spoke inside your head,” Tyler said slowly. “While we were in the cemetery.”
“Does it sound crazy?” Opal replied sharply, pulling away from Emma and drawing her knees in tight. “Yes, it does. Believe me, I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything. But this isn’t the first time I … I think it’s … it’s communicated with me. I’ve felt stuff before now.”
Nico rubbed the back of his neck. Tread carefully here. “Tell us about … the … other times,” he said, waving a hand vaguely.
Opal studied his face, then nodded. “The first contact was during our celebration, when we did the radish stuff. As the movie was playing, I felt eyes on me. I looked over, and I swear that Thing winked and smiled. Then I heard its voice in my head. It said: Come and see what I have for you. That’s a message I’d … felt before. On the day we found the houseboat.”
Nico nearly flinched. Opal’s words jarred him badly. He’d had the same experience when they first discovered the pond together. But it wasn’t some voice inside my mind. Just a … feeling.
“What else?” Tyler prodded. Everyone kept darting glances at the jar, but it looked the same as always.
Opal started chewing her lip. “Two days ago, I had a weird urge to open that lunch box, which is where I found the medal. It … I can’t explain this very well, but I’ve never cared about that lunch box before, or really even noticed it. But suddenly it felt like I was being directed over there somehow. I got the same feeling at Fort Bulloch, and we found that plaque with Charles Dixon’s name on it.”
“Which is why you wanted to explore the cemetery so badly,” Emma concluded, squeezing Opal’s shoulder. “You were following a trail.” Her blue eyes grew soft. “Opal, why didn’t you tell us about this?”
“Because I wasn’t certain it was real,” Opal said immediately. Thunder boomed outside, but the pattering on the roof seemed to slacken. “It all seemed so ridiculous—a voice guiding me in my head? Then, later, I wasn’t sure if you guys would believe me.” Her eyes flashed. “Some of you don’t believe me right now.”
Logan winced. Nico kept his face neutral, but it felt like a guilty sign was hanging around his neck.
“I trust you,” Emma said. “I know you’d never make something like this up.”
“Nobody thinks that,” Tyler said testily, shifting his weight. “But, still … you have to admit …” He glanced at the jar. “If that Thing’s alive, and attacking your brain, why does it look so dead?”
Opal stared at him for a beat, but then her gaze dropped. “I understand. I’m not sure I’d believe me, either.”
“Why just you?” Nico asked. “Can you think of any reason?”
Opal shook her head.
Logan popped to his feet. He walked over to the jar and began tapping the glass. “Hey. Thingie. Wake up!”
“Logan, don’t!” Opal shouted, scrambling to her feet. “It isn’t funny.”
Logan spun and strode back to stand in front of Opal. “I’m not trying to be funny. I know you think this voice is real, but it isn’t. A few weeks ago, when I first saw a figment, I thought I’d lost my mind. The stress ate me alive, and suddenly I was seeing and hearing stuff that wasn’t there, and assuming all kinds of insane things. But there was an explanation.” His voice grew gentle. “You helped me see that. Now I want to do the same for you.”
Opal turned away. Nico stood and glared at Logan. Logan shrugged. Mouthed, Do you believe her?
Nico found he couldn’t hold Logan’s gaze. Do I? I should, I want to, but …
“Guys, it’s getting late,” Tyler said quietly. “Maybe we should tackle this tomorrow.”
“That I agree with,” Logan said, then forced a laugh. “We fought a sea monster tonight. Opal scared it away with a torch. We all deserve a break.”
An olive branch. Nico waited to see if Opal would take it.
She turned back to the group, wiping quickly at her face. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go home. Thanks for listening, everyone. Maybe I’m just a little spaced right now.”
Yet something flashed behind her eyes. Nico was certain Opal didn’t believe what she’d said, but now wasn’t the time to push harder.
“You were right about the cemetery,” Nico said. “Charles Dixon definitely has a Torchbearer connection. Maybe we can figure out what it is.” Opal nodded but didn’t reply. Instead she dug that old notebook out of her backpack and ducked her head into its pages.
“At least the stupid film crew didn’t show up,” Tyler said. “If they’d caught me in action, I’d be stuck signing autographs for the rest of my life.”
Nico smirked. Logan shoved Tyler toward the curtain.
“Tomorrow’s my first day on the job,” Emma chimed. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them pointed in the wrong direction.”
Everyone gathered their things. Opal put the compass into her pocket. Tyler grabbed a book from one of the trun
ks, muttering something about research. The girls walked out together, Emma giving Opal’s arm a quick pat as they exited through the curtain. Nico was last to leave. He shot a final glance at the jar on its pedestal.
What are you, really?
With a shrug, he flicked off the lanterns, plunging the showroom into darkness. Nico hurried out after his friends, but found them standing on the porch wearing startled expressions. The hail had stopped, but dozens of the icy projectiles were piled on the front steps.
With the precipitation over, the sulfur smell crept back with a vengeance. Breathing through his mouth, Nico moved up beside Tyler. What in the world? He knelt and scooped a chunk of hail off the wooden riser.
“Someone explain that to me?” Tyler whispered.
Nico just shook his head. The ball of ice in his hand was the size of a grapefruit, perfectly round and solid all the way through. It was also tinged a dull red, and seemed to be glowing from its center.
“Someone explain that to me,” Tyler repeated.
“The red tide?” Logan offered. “Maybe it got mixed into the hail somehow?”
“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Emma said. “At least, I’ve never heard of it happening.”
Opal was silent, but her eyes shone with questions.
Nico dropped the hailstone and stepped back, wiping his hands on his jacket. He glanced up at the eerie green-black sky.
“I have no idea what’s happening,” he said quietly. “But things are getting out of hand.”
10
OPAL
Opal watched the interview with growing irritation.
“Would you say that living in Timbers itself is an act of bravery?” Bridger asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Carson Brandt answered seriously, scratching his freckled nose. “I guess I would. We should probably, like, start doing Beast-attack drills at school. To be safe.” He glanced at his buddy Parker Masterson, who nodded rapidly.
Opal rolled her eyes, tightening her hood against the light morning rain. She was standing at the foot of town square’s tiny amphitheater, which was decorated with ghosts and spiderwebs for Halloween festivities the following day. The Freakshow crew had commandeered the space, capitalizing on the spooky setup. Bridger was asking people ridiculous questions on camera, no doubt hoping for dumb answers exactly like the one Carson had just given him.
A wet, chill wind whipped in from the sea, sending a few paper bats sailing. I hope those crash on Bridger’s head.
Opal was in a bad mood and knew it. She wanted to talk to Emma—the only one who believed her—but Emma was busy assisting the crew. She’d ducked into the Freakshow van twenty minutes ago and hadn’t come back out again.
Bridger was mostly a hit with the locals, firing off quips between takes that drew laughter from the small crowd watching the film crew work. But the whole thing felt like nails on a chalkboard to Opal. Couldn’t her neighbors see he was mocking them?
Clouds hung low and gray in the sky as mist cloaked the surrounding hills. Opal had assumed filming would be cancelled on a day as ugly as this one, but the film crew seemed to love the added gloom. “It’s so atmospheric,” she’d heard the bearded cameraman exclaim in a satisfied voice.
The freaky hail had melted overnight, leaving no trace of the red glow inside it. Opal wondered if anyone else had even noticed. She shivered, rubbing her hands together, then grimaced at the old mittens she had on. Her cute new gloves were nowhere to be found, so she’d had to wear these kiddie ones. Their googly eyes and sewn-on smiles made her hands look like talking monsters. I should tell Logan. Beast Mittens would sell like crazy.
“Hey, kid,” someone said behind her. “Do you know where they sell those BEAST MODE shirts?”
Opal turned to find a skinny college guy wearing earbuds standing right next to her. Sunburned and slightly wobbly, he was gawking around like he’d just arrived at Space Mountain. He spoke again before she could answer. “Oh man! Is that Colton Bridger up there?”
“Yeah.”
Opal wished the guy would leave her alone. She wished all the out-of-towners would go home. Across the square, tourists were taking selfies in front of the Freakshow van.
“This place is the best,” Earbuds said. “You’re so lucky to live here.” His ski cap rode high on his head, making him look like a gangly elf. “You do live here, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
Opal spotted Carson and Parker walking away, chattering excitedly to each other as they high-fived. Bridger ran a hand through his short brown hair and glanced around. Plenty of townspeople were loitering near the amphitheater, hoping to be interviewed but trying to act natural. Bridger’s eyes locked on Opal and he started striding over to her.
Oh great.
“You can find BEAST MODE jerseys at the hardware store,” Opal told Earbuds, pointing to a pop-up shop under the green awning a half block down Main Street. Logan had added the second location this morning, stocking new merchandise while his dad called in favors. “They’re designed by one of my friends.”
“Awesome,” Earbuds said. “I always shop local.” He hurried away.
Opal’s eyes darted for a plausible escape route, but Bridger smiled and waved, foreclosing the possibility. “Hey there, little friend!” he called. The cameraman and lone female crew member—who seemed to be in charge of lighting—trailed after him. Emma brought up the rear, grinning ruefully. I guess she escaped van duty.
“You gave me directions the other day, right? Can I interview you?”
Before she could respond, Bridger nodded to his team and began spit-smoothing his hair. “I can’t guarantee we’ll use anything, but I’m collecting footage, and you seem perfect. You’ve got a great outdoorsy-kid vibe.”
Opal stiffened. A vibe? She wore a sweater, jeans, boots, and a rain jacket. And these ridiculous monster mittens! She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I guess.” Opal really didn’t want to talk to Bridger but couldn’t see a way out of it.
“Great. We’ll worry about permissions and all that later.” Bridger motioned for his crew to start filming and thrust a microphone in her face. “I’m here with—”
He paused, waiting for Opal to speak.
“Opal Walsh,” she said.
“Opal Walsh, who has spent all her young life right here in Timbers.” Bridger beamed—not at her, but at the camera.
Resentment surged within Opal. He just assumed she’d never been anywhere else. That he’d pegged her exactly. So she smiled as the cameraman zoomed in on her. I can play games, too.
“That’s right, Colton,” she said, sugary-sweet.
“And have you ever encountered”—Bridger paused dramatically—“the Beast?”
He smirked, like he knew exactly what she was going to say: No, sir, but I’ve heard a lot about it, and I think I saw its tracks once by my daddy’s woodchuck nursery, and it’s for sure definitely totally completely real! Hopeful, cute-kid stuff, just happy to be on a TV show.
Yes, she’d been born here. He was right about that. But it didn’t mean he knew her.
“Of course,” Opal answered earnestly.
Bridger blinked. “Really?” He sounded surprised, but immediately went with it, his eyes lighting up as if imagining Dumb Kid Script Number Two: Yessir, I swear I spotted the sea monster once, behind the chain-saw store at midnight. It tried to eat my dog, Sir Barksworth. Scared me to death!
Colton leaned in closer. People had gathered to watch the interview, and Opal noticed a knot of her classmates standing a few yards away.
“What did the creature look like?” Bridger asked in a theatrical voice.
“Like this!” Opal jerked her hands from her pockets and snapped the monster mittens in Bridger’s face. He jumped back with a startled yelp as laughter erupted around them. Emma went red-faced trying to keep it together.
Opal tucked her hands back into her pockets. “Aww. You scared them away.”
“Ha ha ha ha ha!” Bridger bellowed loud
ly, smiling at the crowd. “That was great. Boy, do I love children.” He made a throat-slash gesture at his cameraman, who stopped filming.
Opal hid a smile, shooting a glance at the giggling kids from school. She’d successfully concluded the interview.
“Jokes are the best,” Bridger was saying, trying not to look annoyed. “Thanks, Olivia. Wonderful stuff.”
“It’s Opal.”
“Anytime.”
Bridger stalked away, muttering to himself. His cameraman grinned and shot Opal an amused wink before following. Emma caught Opal’s eye and nodded toward Timbers Cafe, then mouthed five minutes.
Opal flashed a thumbs-up as her friend scurried after Bridger. She could use a hot chocolate, and wanted an update from Emma on what the film crew was planning. But as she started down the sidewalk, cute ninth grader Evan Martinez appeared out of nowhere and fell into step alongside her.
“That was hilarious,” he said, tugging on the sleeves of his Messi jersey. “Did you wear those mittens on purpose?”
“Oh, yeah,” Opal said. “Had it all planned out.”
Evan’s eyes twinkled. He smelled amazing, like cinnamon sticks and … Gatorade? “Bridger’s face—oh man, it was priceless. It’s good to know at least one other person in town isn’t falling for this Freakshow garbage.”
Opal nearly missed a step. “You don’t like it, either?”
Evan’s mouth thinned. “I hate it. Plus, they’re annoying everyone at my parents’ B&B. They stay up all night, super loud, and Bridger keeps calling me buddy. He acts like we’re all small-town hicks. I heard the sound guy making fun of our high school’s mascot.”
“Ugh,” Opal said. Although, to be fair, she’d never loved the Eager Beaver.
Evan bumped a fist on her shoulder. “Well, anyway. Nice job. See you at school.”
“Sounds good.”
Opal lingered for a moment, watching him bounce away down the block, then ducked into the cafe. The place smelled incredible. She had enough cash for a hot chocolate and their signature blueberry scone, one of the few things that hadn’t been renamed after the Beast.
She waited by the counter until Emma slipped onto the stool beside her, then leaned in close. The cafe was full, and Opal didn’t want anyone to overhear. “How’s it going?” she asked in a low voice. “Has the crew said anything about last night?”
