Sean looked over his shoulder in Finn’s direction once more, then sighed again. “Unfortunately, I think I’ll have to. Would you accompany me? That way you can tear me away after a while, give me an excuse to break off from the rabble.”
She felt herself brighten when he invited her to come with him. “Sure!” she said, standing up and taking her drink with her. She was pretty sure she was not going to think of anything to say, so having the drink would give her something to do.
Sean wandered over to a group of five townies who were congregated just on the edge of the garden. The light from the patio lamps didn’t come too far—a deliberate choice, she was sure—so the garden was mostly just a collection of shapes and shadows behind them. The group turned out to be two jocks, two cheerleaders and a girl jock—the “star,” if there could be such a thing at a school that seldom won games, of the volleyball team. Sean’s approach made them all brighten up, and the first flurry of conversation was mostly from them, sucking up.
She didn’t mind, since the sideways looks she was getting from them were not what’s she doing here, but more along the lines of lucky, I’m envious. So at least as far as the townies were concerned, maybe her mom was the local drunk bar-waitress, but she was accepted as fitting with the elite crowd. Probably because Sean clearly wanted her here, and what Sean wanted, Sean obviously got.
As before, they all hung on Sean’s every word; he talked about her, for quite a bit actually, and everyone nodded along and offered their platitudes just like at the first party. The entire time, a small, nagging voice at the back of Staci’s mind kept telling her; remember why you’re here. As fun as this was for her, it was still supposed to be work. She had something important to do; she was helping Dylan to save Silence. But why couldn’t she have a good time while she was doing it?
All the same, she kept her eye on Finn. He was making the rounds, much as Sean was, though he seemed to encourage the townies to drink or otherwise overindulge. She didn’t actually see anyone doing drugs but…a couple of the townies really looked baked. Even though he had the same good looks as Sean, Finn wasn’t nearly as polished, or smooth. He came off more like a Hollywood child star, all grown up and diving towards burn-out. Too big, too loud, and trying too hard.
After a while, the conversation shifted away from Sean talking up Staci towards other topics: summer break, everyone’s plans, who was dating who, the usual. Staci did her part, hanging off of Sean’s elbow and pulling him away to another group of townies whenever he started to look bored. But she always kept her eye on Finn, in between sips from her drink. Finally, something happened. One of the jock couples on the edge of the patio staggered their way towards the garden. What really caught her attention was Finn; he was watching the couple, and his eyes looked…hungry. Cold and calculating, almost sharklike. Once the pair had disappeared into the garden, Finn disengaged himself from the conversation he was in…and followed.
Well…this might just be what Dylan was talking about! She held down her excitement, and excused herself with a little laugh. “Too much ginger ale…” she said, letting her words trail off, and headed towards the house, since that was more in the direction of the garden than the pool house was.
She soon had the pavilions—cabanas?—between her and Sean and his group, and as soon as she was out of their immediate line of sight, she followed in the direction she had seen Finn go.
It was a little easier to see once she was out of the brighter light, though the garden plantings were still pretty much just lumps of foliage, either low lumps or tall, carefully sculpted lumps. She tried hard to remember what the garden had looked like in daylight, but it was all just a bit vague. The garden hadn’t had Sean in it, so she hadn’t paid a lot of attention to it. But wasn’t there…a hedge?
Sure enough, a few moments later, something tall and solid-ish loomed up in front of her. The hedge. Except it had an opening in it.
A maze? It could be…she’d seen hedge mazes in movies—Labyrinth used to be one of her favorites as a little kid, when Dad would pretend to be Jared, the Goblin King.
The only light in the maze came from the moon, which was thankfully almost full tonight. Still, Staci had a hard time seeing; the shadows played with her depth perception. Then it occurred to her that even though her phone was useless to call or text anyone with, it could still double as a semi-decent flashlight. She slowly made her way through the maze, getting completely lost after the first half-dozen turns. Her cell phone didn’t throw out much light, and the corridors of hedge, despite the walls being dotted with sculptures and busts and fountains, all looked the same.
When she’d been in there much too long, and still hadn’t seen anyone else or the way out, Staci knew she was completely turned around, and was starting to panic. She could still faintly hear the music from the party off in the distance, but couldn’t tell how far she had gone. To top it all off, her phone began to die. Aw, come on! I just charged this before the party. She slapped the side of the phone in the vain hope that it would somehow start working again. The light from the screen flickered a few times, then went out completely. She became very aware of how dark it was in the maze, even with the moonlight. A chill seemed to fill the air, and she found her teeth chattering. Okay, officially not fun anymore. Time to head back. She stumbled around the maze, her hands out in front of her as if she were blind. Every time she tried to head back towards the music and the laughter of the party, it seemed as if she found a dead end or was forced to move further away.
Staci was close to tears. Completely lost, utterly freaked out, and alone in the dark.
And then, as something dangling from the cell phone brushed her hand, she remembered. The charm!
She cupped it in her hand, and concentrated, circling her finger clockwise over the top of it, feeling the tension building and building in her chest until she felt as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Beura!” she said—though it came out as a choked whisper.
And brighter than the brightest LED flashlight she had ever seen, the charm exploded with white light. Quickly, she raised it up over her head, blinking to clear her eyes from the afterimage, waiting to be able to see again.
There was—something—just ahead of her.
She blinked harder, willing her eyes to clear.
It was something…human-shaped…
Then as she raised the charm a little higher, the light fell fully on it.
There was a woman there. And she was…gorgeous. Her golden hair fell down to her ankles, and she was wearing a long green dress that clung to her as if it had been painted on. It was held in close to her waist by something that was part corset, part belt, all in gold, and there was a gold headband around her head, centered by a green stone that matched her green, green eyes. She was standing next to what looked like a gigantic kettle, of a very dull gold. For a moment, Staci felt as if she had stumbled into a scene from Lord of the Rings.
But then, the woman smiled, and all resemblance to the fantasy film vanished. The smile was—cruel. And there seemed to be the body of a young man at the woman’s feet.
And as she dipped one finger into the cauldron and pulled it out, still smiling at Staci, the finger dripped a horribly familiar red.
The woman uttered a low chuckle, and licked the blood from her finger.
Staci gasped, almost dropping her phone. She lowered it to her chest, clasping her hand around the charm, which was still glowing brightly. Oh crap, oh crap. What did Dylan say about turning it off? Slowly, the light from the charm faded from between her fingers. She had ducked behind the edge of the hedge wall. Every fiber in her wanted nothing more than to run screaming, to get back to the party and the light and Sean. But there was a tiny voice in the back of her mind that told her to be brave, to peek around the corner and see what she could see. She listened to that voice; slowly, she edged up to the wall, crouching down and leaning over until only the left side of her face was out from behind it.
The woman was st
ill there, stirring the kettle with her finger. Another figure had joined her, though.
It was Finn. Only…it wasn’t.
The first thing she saw was pointed ears, like Dylan’s, poking through his hair. Then as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, she realized she could see the woman and Finn much better than she should have been able to—there was a sort of haze of light around both of them, a sort of sickly yellow. And Finn wasn’t wearing the open-necked crew shirt, blazer and trousers he’d worn at the party; instead, it looked to Staci as if he was all in black and gray leather, but not like biker leathers. More like fantasy-movie leather. Thigh-high laced boots, very tight leather pants, and something that, if she’d had to put a name to it, she would have called a tunic that was laced up the arms and down the chest.
Staci had to strain to hear, but she could barely make out the two of them talking.
“…and so I trust that everything is to your satisfaction?” That was Finn. He was looking even more smug than usual; Staci hadn’t thought that that was possible.
“Indeed it is. Though…I was expecting more than this snack.” The woman gestured to the jock on the ground. It was hard to tell for sure, but Staci thought that he wasn’t breathing. “There was not much substance to him. Creativity, imagination…I need the flame, rather than the feeble spark.”
“Just a down payment, securing your services in the future. Side with me, and this town will be an open buffet; no more scraps, no more hiding. I know where your ‘flames’ reside, and I know how to get them for you. Do we have an accord?”
The woman smiled, licked her finger again, and made a gesture. The cauldron vanished. “Just see to it that you can keep that side of the bargain. You would not wish to cross me, I do pledge you.”
“Nor you me. We’re finished here. I need to get back, before my absence is noticed as being anything other than innocent.”
Staci realized at that point she was going to have to get out, and fast. Finn would notice if she wasn’t at the party…Sean might, too, but Finn was the important one. She clutched the phone, and her charm, desperately, and didn’t so much think as feel how badly she needed to find her way out of the maze…
That same tension was building up inside her. When it became…impossible to hold in, she half-sobbed in the thinnest of whispers, “Please…get me out of here!”
And then she felt a burning spot on her fingers and looked down at her hand.
She saw a glow of light through her fingers where the cell charm was. But…it was in the shape of an arrowhead. Pointing back the way she had come.
She didn’t even stop to wonder if it was possible, she just ran, turning when the arrow turned, until all at once she emerged from the maze into the garden.
She looked down at her hand again. The light went to a vague blur through her fingers, then faded. She put the phone back in her bag, and took several long, deep breaths. You didn’t see anything, she told herself firmly. It was probably just some role-players. Finn likes games like that, I bet…If she told herself that enough times, she hoped she could convince herself enough to get calmed down and look and act normal.
When she thought she was as ready as she was ever likely to be, she made her way back to the rest of the party. Sean had migrated to another group of guests, and turned around to face her when she was near.
“Hey, there you are. I was starting to get a little worried.” Sean reached out, pulling her closer by the crook of her arm.
“Big mansion. I—I got turned around in there, even after the tour the other night. Sorry.” She laughed a little. “Would you believe I had to find the guest suite you put me up in before I could find a loo?” She liked using the word “loo” instead of bathroom. It was British, and it just sounded more…sophisticated. And now that she was back with Sean…her panic in the maze seemed utterly laughable. And of course she must have run into Finn’s role-players rather than anything more sinister! Seriously? Murdering someone in the middle of a party? Someone who was going to be missed? That wouldn’t fly even in the worst teen-slasher horror movie, much less in the real world. She felt herself relaxing as Sean gently squeezed her arm.
“Think you have time for a movie before I have to send you home in a pumpkin?” he asked playfully.
“Sure!” That sounded fantastic. Whatever movie it was, she really didn’t care. Sean wanted her to be with him for at least an hour and a half, without his attention divided, and her heart was racing at the thought.
Sean took her by the hand, then led her and the rest of the guests—those that weren’t passed out drunk or just as good as—to the game room. There were plenty of comfortable leather seats; Sean directed her to one large enough for the both of them. They both settled into the seat, with Staci snuggling up next to Sean’s chest after he threw an arm around her shoulders. Once everyone else was seated, Sean hit the remote, bringing up the menu on the DVD player. The movie was a heavily anticipated teen romance; Staci had heard that it was coming out in the fall, but somehow the Blackthornes already had a copy.
Halfway through the film, after the misunderstood but ultimately lovable female protagonist had finally shared her feelings with her beloved, the school heartthrob that was unattainable for everyone—especially her—Staci felt herself tearing up. She reached into her shoulder bag, trying to retrieve the package of tissues that she kept in there just in case. As she was fumbling through the bag, her hand brushed the charm on her cell phone—and it felt as if her entire body had been plunged into an ice bath. A fog seemed to clear from her mind. She remembered the hedge maze, the woman with the cauldron, the body of the jock, and especially Finn. It wasn’t role-players, it wasn’t something fake. It was all real.
Sean must have felt her tensing up, because he started rubbing her shoulder, looking down to see what was the matter. Quickly, she smiled, retrieving the tissues from her bag and getting one out to dab her eyes with. She couldn’t let him know what she’d seen, or he might be in danger from Finn. She had to protect him. “I’m just a sucker for this kind of movie,” she whispered.
He smiled at her. “I thought you might be. You’re an incredible romantic, and you haven’t let anything take that away from you. Never let that fire go out, Staci. It’s what makes you so alive.” While she liked hearing Sean say those things to her, she couldn’t help but think about what Finn had said in the maze about fire and sparks. It kept her feeling on edge for the rest of the movie.
* * *
She kept looking for…something…all the way back home in the limo. It was really creepy, expecting to see things lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce, and had her on edge the entire time. But there was nothing there, nothing at all. She could hardly believe it. Had that…whatever she was…not told Finn that Staci had seen her? And why would she not have told him?
By the time the limo reached the house, Staci had calmed down some. She knew that she needed to keep a level head. Just get inside, avoid Mom, call Dylan and tell him what she had seen. But the house was all lit up when the limo pulled up, and she knew, from past experience, that avoiding Mom was not going to be easy…or maybe even possible at all.
She could hear the stereo blasting from the porch as she tried the door. As she had figured, it was unlocked, and when she walked into the living room, it was clear she was walking into a party zone.
Even if it was only a party for two.
Or…maybe one and a half.
There were beer bottles everywhere, a couple of empty bottles of harder stuff on their sides on the coffee table, half-empty bags of snacks, potato chips on the floor, and Mom was sprawled on the couch while an unshaven guy in dirty jeans, wife-beater and open plaid shirt, who looked like he had probably lived his whole life in a trailer park, danced drunkenly in the middle of the floor.
“Hi honey!” Mom slurred. “Thi-this’s Pete.” She waved vaguely at the dirtbag. “He’s m’boyfrien’.” Then her head lolled back and she passed out.
“Hey,” Staci said
indifferently, trying to edge past to the staircase.
“My name’s Patrick.” The man didn’t stop dancing, but did incline his head to ogle at Staci. “You must be the daughter.” He stumbled forward into her path, tripping over his own feet and landing on his hands and knees. As he was crawling, he found a still half-full bottle of vodka, bringing it up as he swayed to his feet. “Want a drink, girlie? Still plenty here.”
“No,” she said, and took the chance that if he lunged at her, she was faster than he was, and ran for the stairs.
“Aw, c’mon, no reas’n not t’try a leetle taste, huh?”
She didn’t answer him. Because this always ended the same, when her mom brought home a boyfriend. From the time she was twelve, it ended with clumsy come-ons at best, and at worst? The demand that since Mom was passed out, Staci automatically owed the dirtbag sex.
“Hey!” This time he grabbed her arm, hard. “Yer momma never taught you how to treat guests?” She could smell the horrible stink of the cheap booze on his breath mixed with stale body odor, and his eyes were completely bloodshot. Even through the drunk, she could see that he was pissed off, and was getting ready to do something about that.
She grabbed the bottle out of his hand and hit him with it. It didn’t break when she hit him, the way it did in the movies, but it sure broke when it hit the floor. He yelped and staggered back, inadvertently letting her go. She turned and ran up the stairs to her room, locking the door behind her.
She more than half expected to hear him come falling up the stairs, now doubly angry, but instead, she heard shouting. Her mom’s voice, then his, then her mom. Between the (thankfully!) thick door, and the fact that they were both drunk as skunks, she couldn’t understand what either of them were saying—
Right up until her mom got very clear indeed. “—my daughter! Right in front of me, you pig! Get out! Out! I never wanna see you again!” She ran to the window of her bedroom, just in time to hear the front door slam open.
Silence Page 14
