by Jim Johnson
Chapter Thirty
OKAY, SO THE RECENT ACTION WITH Malcolm and my chat with Abbie cemented it—there was too much going on for me to handle by myself. Abbie was right—I had delayed this as long as I could, but now I needed to talk to Miss Chin.
I stood on her porch on a bright but cold morning, staring at the weathered brass knocker on her door, waiting for…I dunno, something, to inspire me to reach out and use it.
I’d done all right up to this point, but given the stuff Detective Bello told me, what was happening at the Lincoln Memorial, the training debacle with Malcolm, and what Charity had shown me…well, it was just too much for one little Beacon to deal with all at once.
Finally, I shook my head. “Come on, Rachel. Show some backbone.” I reached out for the brass knocker just as the door was yanked open from inside.
Miss Chin, all four foot of her, stood in her hallway in a black and red silk kimono, staring at me with, of all things, pink foam rollers in her long black hair and some sort of beige mud pack slathered all over her face. She stared out from the mask material, furrowed brows over her wide brown eyes. “You just gonna stand out there in the cold or you gonna come in?”
I felt the heat rushing up my spine and into my face and cheeks, and felt the tips of my ears burning with embarrassment. Out of long reflex, I glanced outside around the house to see if anyone had noticed, a callback to my younger days in high school when I’d get home stupid late after a party and mom or dad (usually mom) would catch me trying to creep into the house.
Anyway, appropriately chastised, I opened her screen door and instinctively looked for Mister Parkour, her massive long-haired tabby who was mostly one big attitude with fur, but he was nowhere to be seen.
I stepped in through the screen door and let it bang shut behind me. Once I was in the hallway, Miss Chin closed her heavy wood-and-glass door and then shot home the lock.
She crossed her arms, clad in that black-red silk, and stared at me. “Well? Why you hanging around my porch at seven in the morning?” She looked closely at my face.
I blinked a couple times and even reached out for a ley thread for a little fortitude, feeling strangely relieved to find it available at a moment’s notice.
She raised her eyebrows as I took courage from that little ley thread, and then she nodded, as if she knew. “Things happening, things moving, and you’re starting to get a sense of it.”
“‘A sense of it?’” I frowned. “Miss Chin, I think I’m in the middle of it.”
She kept her eyes locked on me, and then nodded once, curtly, and pointed toward the kitchen. “Tea. I be right back.”
Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked up the staircase behind her, the wooden steps creaking lightly under her feet.
I watched her reach the top of the stairs and then turn down the hallway out of sight, only then realizing that the upstairs was the one part of her house that I hadn’t yet seen.
Remembering her orders for tea, I moved toward the kitchen, my sneakers silent on the thick rectangular rug running the length of the hallway. It ended where the kitchen floor began, and my sneakers then made subtle squeaking sounds on the hardwood as I moved around to gather tea-making materials.
For as old fashioned as most of Miss Chin’s house was—old heavy wooden furniture, brass fittings, cracked leather bindings on books—her kitchen was full of modern appliances and gadgets.
I fired up the electric kettle to get the water going, then set up two mugs and the loose tea in a small blue enameled tea kettle. Miss Chin had a staggering variety of loose tea packets in her cabinet, all of which were labeled in what I had to guess was Chinese or Japanese lettering.
I knew that the container two down and one to the right of the one on top was the one I liked best, so I took that one out and scooped some of the tea into the strainer inside the tea kettle.
I settled on one of the kitchen stools as I waited for the water to boil. As I waited, I heard Miss Chin’s steps on the stairs again, and then she padded down the hallway and into the kitchen.
She still had on the black and red kimono, but had removed the hair curlers and the face mask. She looked freshly cleaned, so I guess I must have interrupted her morning routine.
I gestured toward the kettle. “Water’s almost done.”
She nodded and took a stool next to mine and shifted to face me squarely. “So. What is happening that you come to me now?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. “I, ah, I’m not sure where to start.”
She leveled a steady gaze at me and said, simply, “Best to start at the beginning, or with what bothers you most.”
I nodded, but then the kettle boiled and clicked off, and I got to take a few quiet minutes to gather my thoughts as I busied myself with making tea.
Miss Chin must have guessed that I needed a minute or two, because she didn’t say anything—just waited for me.
I brought the steeping tea kettle and the mugs over to the counter near our stools, and then sat down. I took a deep breath and then laid it all out for Miss Chin, explaining all that had happened with Detective Bello and what I had found at the Lincoln Memorial. I carefully didn’t say anything about the journal or Charity, recalling that Charity had suggested I keep it between ourselves. And I wasn’t ready to talk about Malcolm.
Miss Chin had poured tea during my one-sided information dump, and she nodded thoughtfully in all the right places but said nothing, leaving me to fill the space with my babblings.
Finally, winded from throwing it all out there, I gulped at my tea, now lukewarm, and waited for some sort of response from her.
She sipped at her tea readily enough, but I could tell from the look in her eyes that her thoughts were elsewhere, and probably running a million miles an hour.
Finally, she carefully placed her tea cup in its saucer and then stared at me. “You are doing very well, Rachel. You have shown independent thought and taken independent action, and you seem to have at least a journeyman’s understanding of the ley threads and the ley grid.”
She cast a shrewd eye on me and nodded. “You are practicing more than when you are with me.” She stated it so matter-of-factly that I couldn’t get defensive about it. She reached out and rested her hand on mine. “This is good. Students rarely wait for their teachers in all things. I expect you to continue your independent studies.”
She lifted her hand and raised a finger. “But. You must be careful. Do not delve into the Holding without a solid warding circle or dome in place. If what you tell me about the rift at the monument is accurate, then it’s possible the Spinner is active again and looking to exploit the gaps within the Veil. Or, a new player has entered the scene and is likewise looking to exploit the damaged Veil.”
She tapped her finger against the marble countertop, then nodded. “But let us assume for the moment that it is the Spinner. It is quite likely he knows more about you than we think, and might even try to move against you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
Miss Chin shrugged. “Because of who you are and what you are capable of. The Spinner is adept at manipulating the ley threads and the ley grid and the etherics, and a new Beacon just outside D.C. appears to be a threat to whatever his plans may be.”
She paused, then stared at me closely. “He may well want to destroy you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
I STARED AT MISS CHIN. “GREAT, just what I needed to hear.”
Miss Chin reached out a hand and tucked it under my chin and lifted my head up. I didn’t want to, but found myself staring into her eyes. She said, “You are stronger now than you were a month ago, and you have resources at your disposal to defend yourself. Have faith.”
I blinked a couple times, feeling hot tears starting to rise at the corners of my eyes, but I grabbed that ley thread tight and drew strength from it. I nodded as I saw a slow smile cross Miss Chin’s face. “All right.” I sighed, then detached myself from her grasp and drained my cup of t
he now-cold tea. “What do I need to do?”
Miss Chin drained her cup as well and then gave us both refills. As she placed the kettle back on the counter, she said, “Continue as you have been. Train with me, train alone, practice and practice some more, and be safe. Use warding circles and domes as often as possible, keep your eyes open, and be smart.”
I lifted both hands and then dropped them, like, ‘duh!’ I chuckled and said, “I’m doing all that already.”
Miss Chin gave me one of her curt nods. “That’s why you still alive, maybe. Keep doing that.”
I snorted. “Thanks.”
“Any time. Now.” She tapped the counter for emphasis. “This Bello. Tell me more about him.”
I frowned. “Not sure there’s much more to tell. I think he follows me around sometimes. He’s shown up a couple times at places I’m familiar with, places where I’ve messed with lost souls or the Veil.” I paused to sip some tea, then added. “I think he knows more than he’s letting on, but I don’t think he’s a Weaver.”
Miss Chin made a clucking sound in her throat and then washed it down with some tea. She looked pensive, distant, and then she focused on me with an odd look in her eyes. “Probably time I told you something.”
My heart sank. Now what? Like this could get any worse? What I managed to say was a weak, “Oh, what’s that?”
She pursed her lips, like whatever she had to say was desperate to get out in the open but she was holding it back. After a moment where I thought she’d change her mind, she blew out a burst of air and then nodded. “We’re Weavers. But we not the only ones who can manipulate ley threads and the ley grid and interact with the Veil and the Holding.”
I frowned, confused. “But I knew that. We know the Spinner can harness the ley threads and throw a lot of etheric power around. I don’t see where…”
She shook her head. “I mean beyond him, and beyond us. There are…groups out there that can do what we do, and other things besides.”
My frown deepened and I sat up straighter on the stool. I wanted to be mad at her for not telling me earlier, but…somehow I had suspected what she had told me already. I bit my lip, then asked, “Do you think this Bello is a member of one of these groups?”
Miss Chin stared at me, though she was giving me that faraway look that suggested while her eyes were pointed at me, she was actually deep in thought. Finally, she said, “Possibly. I don’t know. I haven’t met him and haven’t seen him.” She smirked. “Maybe you invite him over for tea next time you see him. Then we get some answers, hah?”
She chuckled at herself, but soon turned serious again. “Anyway. He might well be more than he seems.”
I sighed. “Great. Just what I need is another problem.”
She smiled and patted my hand again. “You can handle it. You’re stronger than you realize. Once you become more confident in that and in your abilities, you gonna be a powerful Beacon, Rachel.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Thank you.” Praise from Miss Chin was a rare gift, and I could tell from the inflection in her voice that it was totally genuine.
She took both my hands in hers. “Now, I hope you can forgive my scattershot training techniques. I haven’t had to train a Beacon before, and haven’t trained another Weaver in years. It’s taking some getting used to.”
I stared into her eyes, seeing nothing but truth there, and sensing nothing but honesty from her. I smiled, as warm as I could muster. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Miss Chin. I’m eager to learn all I can. You’ve exposed me to an amazing world, and I want to learn more. I can’t think of a better teacher I’d want to have.”
Well, mostly true anyway. I appreciated Bonita’s pointers on meditation, but she wasn’t a Weaver; she didn’t have the same sort of powers or abilities Miss Chin and I had—her talents were in a different arena.
She inclined her head. “I appreciate that, Rachel, I really do. You’ve been an excellent student, and I don’t think I tell you that often enough.” She grinned. “A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but then again, so am I.”
I nodded. “Maybe we’re learning together.”
She nodded, then leaned in. “So…do you want to talk about what else is bothering you?”
I flinched. Damn, she was good. I thought I was going to slip out of this conversation without having to bring up Charity or Malcolm. My mind whirled. “I’m not sure what you…”
She squeezed my hand, a little more tightly than I thought entirely necessary. “Please don’t lie to me, Rachel. I can see the weft and weave easily enough. Always far more going on behind your eyes than you ever reveal.” She looked deep into my eyes with a knowledge reflected in her eyes that I found uncomfortable to look at. I turned away first.
She let go of my hand and folded hers in her lap. “I surmise that your girlfriend may not even know the depths of your character.”
I flushed, a spear of anger jolting me to increased alertness. I nearly blurted out something hot, but caught control of my mouth before I could say something stupid.
She nodded at me, that sage look crossing her face again. “It is perfectly normal to have a deeper, inner life that you keep safe from others, even those you care deeply for and who care for you deeply.” She raised a finger. “And you are young, yet. But. You must learn to trust those who care for you and you must be willing to share the hard truths.”
I sighed, the anger deflating out of me, replaced by a dull sense of despair. “I just…I’m afraid, Miss Chin.” Damn it.
I shook my head. “That’s it. I’m afraid to tell you everything. I hate it when you judge me and I hate it when I can’t get the things you teach me just right.” I thought about what I had told Charity recently.
“I want to be the best god-damned Beacon I can possibly be, but there’s so much going on right now that I’m struggling, really struggling, to make sense of it all. Things are moving too fast for me to keep track of all the pieces, and I hate that feeling.”
She leaned in toward me, her eyes radiating nothing but compassion and understanding.
I added, “And I’m terrified of disappointing you. I feel like I’ve disappointed so many people in my family and in my life. I’m tired of it.”
She nodded, and produced a tissue out of a pocket and handed it to me. I dabbed at the hot tears in my eyes.
She said, “I have one question—do you disappoint yourself?”
I crumpled the tissue in my hand and frowned. I hadn’t expected that question. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that.” My brow furrowed as I considered the question. “I guess…no. I’m proud of what I’ve done, what I’m doing, and everything I’m working toward. I’ve worked my ass off this last month to be a better Beacon and I’ve practiced a lot and know way more now than I did a month ago.”
She smiled. “Your progress has been impressive. I’m sorry I don’t say as much more often.”
I nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that. So, no, I haven’t disappointed myself.”
She matched my nod. “Then you have nothing to worry about. The secrets you are keeping from me right now, you are keeping for a reason, even if you may not be able to articulate that reason yet.”
She made a tiny shrug. “I am sad to know that you must keep secrets, but I trust that, in time, you will trust me enough to share them.” She smiled. “It certainly won’t be the first time a student has hidden something from a teacher.” She reached out and patted my shoulder with her hand. “Continue to trust in yourself, Rachel. It is a strength of yours that will serve you well.”
She glanced at the clock set into the microwave. “Now, I fear I must finish getting ready for a brunch date. You are welcome to stay here and study or keep Mister Parkour company…”
I shook my head and gestured at the sunshine coming in through the window. “That’s all right. I have a run to make and maybe a soul or two to guide into the Veil.” I looked at her and blushed. “I…thank you for what you said. It means a lot t
o me.”
She smiled and patted my hand once more. “I am sorry I do not say so more often, but I am very proud of you, Rachel.”
I flushed, pleased at the praise. I helped her wash up the few dishes, and then she ushered me out of the house so that she could finish getting ready for her day. Bemused at the perfunctory exit, I took a deep breath of the morning air and started back for home, for the first time in a while feeling a little bit better about where things were and where I was going.
Chapter Thirty-Two
FEELING MORE ENCOURAGED COMING OUT OF Miss Chin’s than I had for a while, I jogged away from her place and made my way to one of the many small parks dotting the blocks in and around Del Rey. Abbie had gone in to work early to get some extra work in, so I was free and clear to have the day to myself.
I sat on a park bench and nibbled on a granola bar as I processed everything Miss Chin and I had talked about, and then I tossed the empty wrapper into my satchel and pulled out the journal that contained Charity.
I reached out for a ley thread and set up a modest warding shield around me and the journal, if for no other reason than to warn me if someone got too close while I was talking through the etherics with her.
Once the ward was set, I cracked open the cover, figuring anyone who walked past me would just see a girl reading an old book.
Greetings again, Beacon Rachel.
I smiled down at the blank pages. A swirl of blue energies soon came up to the surface and spun into the form of her mouth.
“Hello, Beacon Charity.” Miss Chin and I had experimented with non-verbal speaking to each other through the use of ley threads and the etheric connection between us, and it was something that had happened naturally when Charity and I had first spoken. In retrospect, I must have done it unconsciously, which meant that maybe I had learned something after all.
Are you well?
