“Commando?” I asked, not following her.
She rolled her eyes. “No underwear!”
“Oh my God!” I said. We both started laughing hysterically.
“He didn’t have on …”
“Not a stitch …” she said, trying to catch her breath.
“So he’s running down the river bank and …”
“You got it,” Kristen crowed. “Just flapping in the breeze!”
“What did you do?” I asked, trying to get myself under control.
“I looked, silly,” she said “But I was laughing so hard, even while being half-drowned, that I didn’t get to see much.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I fixed that later.”
I sighed. “I bet you did.”
“What did Tom do?” I asked. “Did he say anything?”
This got her to laughing again. “He didn’t know,” she said.
“He didn’t know what?”
“He didn’t even notice until after he’d saved me!” she cried. “We were standing on the riverbank—me in my soaked clothes and coughing and spitting up mud—and Tom’s just standing there, patting me on the back and asking if I’m okay.”
“No!” I said. “Not a chance.”
“I swear,” she said. “I was laughing so hard I couldn’t tell him. Finally, I just started pointing and that’s when he looked down and realized he was naked!”
We laughed all the way into town, both of us with tears running down our faces. It was easy to imagine why Kristen had fallen for him, and vice versa, as that was the first time they met. It felt good to be laughing so openly, and with a friend, for the first time in days. I couldn’t tell Kristen everything, but for a few minutes, it was nice to just be nineteen again.
“So,” she asked as we pulled up to a stoplight. “Where am I taking you?”
“The home of our hero,” I said. “He told you I had a break-in, didn’t he?”
Kristen nodded, her face turning serious. “Yeah, he mentioned it.”
“Kristen, is it okay that I’m staying there for a couple of days? I don’t want you to think …” I shrugged. “You know.”
She smiled. “I know,” she said. “But you and Tom are best friends, and I know your interest in him is strictly platonic.”
“Very much so,” I said, wanting to reassure her. “He’s wonderful, but not really my type.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen him run naked down a river bank,” she said. “Hi-ho, Silver, away!”
That set us both off again and we laughed all the way to Tom’s house. Kristen and I had never been especially close, but it felt like we were becoming good friends. I wasn’t the kind of person to make friends easily, and it had been a long time since I’d felt this close to another woman. Still, given the strange circumstances of my life over the last few days, I also couldn’t risk trusting Kristen too soon.
As we pulled up to Tom’s building, she found a spot on the street and parked. “Here you go,” she said. “The castle of our hero.”
I smiled. “Thanks for the lift.”
“No problem,” Kristen said. She reached out and grasped my arm. “Jenna, I know you and Tom both think I’m a ditz—”
I tried to interrupt her, but she continued on. “No, I know you both do. And in a lot of ways, I am.” She grinned. “I don’t know what all is going on in your life right now, Jenna, but it smacks of strangeness, and regardless of anything else you might think, that is my one area of expertise. So … if you ever need a friend …”
“Thanks, Kristen,” I said. “I’m not quite ready to … tell everything yet, but when I am, you’ll be the second person I talk to.” I patted her hand. “And I don’t think you’re a ditz—you just believe in … well … everything.”
“Saves time,” she said. “Sooner or later, I’ll be right on the money.”
I sighed. “You’re more right than you know, Kristen.” I climbed out of the car, then leaned down and offered a wave. “Thanks again.”
“No problem, Jenna. Give a yell if you need anything, okay?”
“I will,” I said “Drive safe.”
“Always do,” she said. She put the car in gear and drove away. I watched until she turned the corner.
The winds continued howling through the trees and I trudged across the street in my wet socks. I thought about Simon and why he hadn’t driven after me. Why I felt the way I did whenever I was around him.
My grandfather used to tell me that one day I would meet someone—the perfect someone for me—and it would feel like I’d been hit by a bolt of lightning. Is that what I was feeling whenever I heard Simon’s voice, felt his hand or even saw him?
I started up the steps to Tom’s apartment, shaking my head. It couldn’t be that … it had to be that he was kind of a threat. It was only when he showed up that my life had gotten so complicated and dangerous.
That had to be it, I reassured myself.
I knocked on the door to Tom’s apartment, and I heard him unlock the door. He opened it, saw me, and a look of alarm crossed his features. “Jenna! Are you all right?” He ushered me inside, closing the door behind us and locking it.
I went into the living room and tried to figure out where to sit. My clothes were still pretty wet.
I stared blindly around the room, then sighed, but before I could speak, Tom peeled off Simon’s coat and tossed it in a corner. Speaking quietly, he took my hand and said, “Come on, Jenna. You need a hot bath and some rest.”
I followed him into the bathroom, and he got the water started and then turned back to me. “Take as long as you like, okay? We can talk later.”
Relieved not to have to explain everything right away, I nodded my thanks.
“I’m going to run out and get us something to eat. Make yourself comfortable and get out of those wet clothes. You can borrow some of my sweats when you’re done—they’re in the dresser.”
“Thanks, Tom,” I said, eyeing the warm water in the tub with something like passion. “Thanks for everything.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he said. “See you in a bit.”
After he left, I locked myself in the bathroom and soaked in hot water up to my chin. It felt heavenly to be warm and to not be answering questions. To know I was safe and that Tom would take care of me, at least for tonight.
And when I started to cry, I was glad no one could hear me.
10
“My Lord, we haven’t been able to locate her yet. Even in this small town, she seems to have gone to ground.”
“Then flush her out.”
By the time Tom got back with the food and coffee, I’d managed to pull myself together, wash my hair and get out of the tub. I even found his sweat suit, which hung on me like a tent and would have provided modesty for a girl four times my size. But I was warm, safe and comfortable, and that was a blessed relief compared to the rest of the day I’d just had.
Tom let me eat in peace, and didn’t pester me with questions, though I knew he must have been itching with curiosity. It couldn’t be every day that someone showed up at his door half-drowned and mostly frozen. I finished my burger and fries, each bite a little bit of manna to my empty belly, then leaned back and sipped my coffee—a quadruple-shot Grande mocha that would have had most people buzzing around like a housefly all night long. In my case, it just about took the edge off.
Finally, Tom cleared his throat. “Feeling better?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, thanks,” I said, noting that my voice was a little hoarse. I’d probably have a wicked cold tomorrow. “I … thanks for your help.”
“I’m your friend, Jenna,” he said simply.
“I know,” I replied. “And that’s why I’m going to tell you everything. I need a friend right now, Tom, to help me figure some of this stuff out.”
“Okay,” he said, settling back into his chair. “Lay it on me.”
“One thing,” I said. “You have to promise to keep all this a secret—even
from Kristen—unless I say it’s okay. When you hear what I have to tell you, you’ll probably want to have me locked up—and I’m not sure I would disagree with you.”
“Hmmm,” Tom said. “How about a compromise?”
“What?”
“I won’t tell anyone about it unless I think you’re in serious danger,” he said. “I won’t be responsible for you getting hurt.” He shrugged. “Besides, Jenna, I think you are in danger—maybe a lot, I don’t know for sure. But I won’t spill your secret unless I have no other choice.”
“My hero,” I said, thinking of my conversation with Kristen. It would have been so easy to get sidetracked and start teasing Tom about it, but I sensed that Kristen had told me the story in confidence, even if she hadn’t said so. “Fair enough,” I said, trying not to smirk at the imagined picture of Tom in the buff and dripping wet.
“So tell me everything,” Tom said.
And I did. I told him about seeing the strange man at my grandfather’s funeral and finding the Board in the attic. The mysterious voice that kept whispering the name Shalizander. The intruder breaking into my house. Simon. Professor Martin’s betrayal and Burke and Tanner kidnapping me and trying to kill me. I even told him about my strange ability to breathe underwater.
Tom sat quietly throughout the whole story, and when I finished, he didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he stirred and said, “That’s quite a story, Jenna.”
Crestfallen, I said, “You don’t believe me, do you?”
He held up his hands. “I’m not saying I do, and I’m not saying I don’t. I want to think about it all for a little while. You’ve got to admit that it’s quite a tale.”
“If you’d come to me with the same story,” I admitted, “I’d probably already be dialing the loony bin. But do you think I’m the kind of person to make something like this up?”
“No, I don’t, which is why I’m not jumping to any conclusions at the moment,” he said. “But give me the night to think about and I’ll get back to you in the morning.” He looked at his watch. “Besides, it’s late. You’re exhausted and need to rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and Tom shook his head. “Jenna, I need to digest all this, and you need to get some sleep. Take the bedroom and I’ll crash on the sofa again.”
Seeing that he wasn’t going to budge, I agreed. “Thanks,” I said, as I stepped by him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thanks for being my friend, for at least listening and giving me a place to stay.”
“That’s what friends do,” Tom said. “Now go get some sleep.”
We said our goodnights and as I went into the bedroom, I realized that he’d been right about one thing; I was completely exhausted. I curled up under the blankets and in the seconds before my eyes closed, I thought about Simon holding me close, and how I was sure I would be too tired to dream that night.
The winds surround me, swirling like invisible dervishes. My hair lashes my face, the strands dark red whips wet with rain.
I raise the Board high in my arms. Its voice calls to me, singing a song of Power. The language is melodic and strange, but I can make it out if I concentrate … it is calling the wind. Stronger, faster, the winds keep blowing, rushing around me, drowning out everything else I felt like I could conquer the world with a gesture, level forests with a glance.
Surrounded by the whirling vortex of air, I feel my body rise into the sky, held aloft by the powerful kiss of the invisible element embracing me. My element. Singing. Growing stronger.
I want a storm—a great beast of wind, and I call to the Board. My voice is swept away, but my thought is clear: “Bring me a storm of wind, a stalker cloaked in air!”
The Board answers and I feel the power of it running in my veins. It is intoxicating … like a good red wine or the feel of my lover’s lips when they brush my neck. The winds howl now, angry, as though they do not wish to answer my call.
But they will … and they do.
Soon I am in a funnel of wind, borne up higher and higher—not flying yet not falling—and around me the swirling cones of five … ten … a dozen tornadoes breach the sky and reach down with dark gray fingers to slam into the ground below.
Debris rises into the air, hurled by the force of my storm. Trees, houses, animals … people … all are torn to pieces before the might of my creation. I feel so alive, carried into the heart of this wild beast and riding it like a master horseman.
I call out to the Board again and again, and the winds answer, now in vengeful triumph. Growing ever stronger, swirling faster and faster until it seems that the very sky itself is mine to do with as I want.
Far below, I can see a small house. The house I grew up in. The house of darkness where bad things happened and they told me I could not trust the Board, that I must not use it. The house where my real father had left me before coming back and taking me to the island and the Knights and all their questions.
I look down on the house and know that the storm, my storm, is about this house. Is about revenge and making them pay for not letting me taste this glorious sensation. I am the mistress of the winds … the Keeper … the Keeper of the Board …
And the command of this element is mine. It is the first thing I have ever controlled in my life and I will destroy those who have held me down, held me back, kept me from my trust. I feel the winds around me … waiting for my command …
I see my stepfather come outside, fear lighting his features. He is superstitious and to him it must appear that I have become a witch. I point to him, to the house, to the empty fields beyond, to the river and scream out my will … “Destroy it all!”
The tornadoes descend and the last I see of him is his arms pumping as he tries to run away … but there will be no escape … no escape for any of them …
I woke to the sounds of the television and Tom tapping on the bedroom door. His voice was quiet but firm. “Jenna, you’ve got to wake up now. I think it’s important.”
For a moment, I simply lay there, keeping my eyes closed. The dream—vision?—had been amazingly real. Who was the woman I had been? Some distant ancestor who also held the Board and the role of Keeper? Did consciously using the Board always feel so intense, so good?
Tom knocked again, and I opened my eyes. “I’m awake,” I called. “What is it?”
“I think you need to get up,” he said, his voice muted behind the door. “Something’s happened.”
I climbed out of bed and opened the door. “What is it?” I asked.
Looking beyond me, Tom gasped. “What happened in here?”
I turned around and realized that the room was in shambles. The window blinds had been torn down, the dresser was overturned and all of Tom’s clothing and shoes were scattered across the room. “I don’t …” Stunned, I couldn’t find the words.
“It looks like …” Tom started, then stopped. “You need to see this,” he finished. He guided me into the living room where the television was on.
A haggard newscaster was giving the morning report. Behind him, scenes of devastation were shown over and over again. “Last night’s bizarre series of tornadoes are still puzzling meteorologists across the state and the nation,” he said. “The phenomenon was incredibly localized, and quite possibly the worst storms to hit our area in over a century.” A scene of the local shopping mall—ravaged and destroyed—appeared on the screen. “The destruction on the outskirts of Miller’s Crossing and a number of suburbs is almost total. Meteorologists tracked almost a dozen tornadoes that touched down as they spread across the county and unleashed damaging winds with horrific force.”
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. Did the Board do that? Did I do that?
The newscaster continued. “The tornadoes came literally out of nowhere, without any indication that they were going to touch down. According to emergency rescue workers, the death toll currently stands at twenty-three, but is expected to go higher, possibly much higher, as more workers a
re able to get to homes and commercial buildings. The local hospital, St. Mary’s, has been overwhelmed with injured residents, and no estimate has yet been given for those people—or for total property damage caused by the storms. The governor is expected to declare the area a disaster—”
Tom reached out and shut off the television. “Jenna,” he said quietly, “is there anything you’re not telling me?”
I shook my head wildly. “No, of course not!” I said. “I told you everything I know.”
“Then how did my room get destroyed?” he asked.
“Well … ummm … if I did it, how come you didn’t hear it?” I challenged.
“How come you didn’t hear it?” he snapped back. “I was gone. After you feel asleep last night, I went over to Kristen’s. Both of us spent the night huddled in her basement. I only just now got here.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t hear it!”
“Well, you’re lucky the whole building didn’t come down around your ears!” Tom shouted.
“Don’t yell at me!”
In two strides, Tom closed the distance between us and took me in his arms, wrapping me in a strong hug. “Oh, God, Jenna,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’ve spent half the night worried sick about you, but I couldn’t leave Kristen. I tried to call, but the lines were down, and my cell wasn’t working either.”
Feeling my anger drain out of me, I relaxed against him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry about your room.”
“To hell with the room,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Am I?” I asked. “I’m beginning to wonder.”
“I guess I can’t blame you for that,” Tom admitted. “But we’ll figure out what’s going on eventually.”
“I hope so,” I said, wondering if he was trying to comfort himself or me. “So now what?”
Tom reluctantly let me out of his arms, and then pointed to the kitchen. “Breakfast,” he said.
“Breakfast?”
He nodded. “Can’t fight a war on an empty stomach,” he said.
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