by Matthew Cody
He set the book down on his desk and stared at the ring inside. When it caught the sunlight from a certain angle, it took on a kind of greenish, oily sheen. Daniel remembered the emerald fire that had burned from the Shroud’s pendant; he remembered the green flame that had consumed his hand in his dream the night before.
His subconscious was not subtle. And his subconscious was probably right. The ring was dangerous, and he should just destroy it now. He should take a hammer to it until it was just so much dust. But what if Eric was right and Daniel was a Super now too? Herman Plunkett had said that Daniel’s own grandmother had lost both her powers and her memories by merely touching a piece of that meteor stone. The slightest touch and she’d been changed forever. Made less.
And last night Daniel had flown.
Now the ring held a different kind of fear for him. It was like a venomous snake in a basket, and to get rid of it you might have to risk being bit.
Daniel’s hand fell away. He closed the book’s cover, leaving the black ring in its hiding place, untouched. And there it would stay, for the time being at least.
Daniel stood and stretched. Other than the stiff neck and aching back, he didn’t feel any different today than any other day. He certainly didn’t feel more powerful. But then last night he’d been aware of the power only when he’d actually been using it—he hadn’t felt super-strong until he’d found himself holding a thousand pounds of tree above his head. He hadn’t known he could fly until he actually flew. What should he do now? Should he test himself again, try lifting something heavy? But what could he lift …?
“Hey, Georgie!” Daniel called. Daniel’s room was in the attic at the top of the house, but his little brother slept downstairs, in what was once the nursery but now had to be carefully referred to as the “big-boy room.” Normally, if Daniel so much as whispered in the direction of his door, Georgie would come running.
But today there was no answer. As Daniel went down the attic steps, he caught voices drifting up from the kitchen downstairs. Everyone must already be at breakfast—they’d let him sleep in. Perfect. Daniel didn’t want his nosy little brother around to see what he was about to attempt.
Inside Georgie’s room was a piece of Corrigan family history in the form of a cherrywood dresser. It was squat and thick, barely coming up to Daniel’s chest, and it had been used as a diaper-changing table by Daniel’s gram. She’d used it to change Daniel’s mother when she’d been just a baby. Gram had kept it here in this house for years, always intending to pass it on as a keepsake, but there was one problem—it was too heavy. It was a monster of craftsmanship, but it was also so solid, no one dared move it from its spot. In fact, Georgie’s room had become Georgie’s room simply because that changing table was already in there, and it wasn’t going anywhere. From now on, it came with the house. People came to the changing table; the changing table did not come to them.
Listening at the top of the stairwell, he could hear the clink of plates being cleared, which signaled his family was finishing up breakfast. It was now or never.
“All right,” he said, sizing up the dresser. “It’s just you and me!”
Daniel wrapped his arms around the dresser’s edge. His skinny limbs certainly didn’t look any more muscly, but then, to look at Eric you’d never know that he could lift a car over his head and not break a sweat. At least, not usually.
Daniel gave the dresser a tug. Then a shove. He grunted. He pushed and he pulled, and for a moment he thought he felt something give, but it was just his knees popping. After a short time of useless struggle, he gave up.
Had yesterday been just a fluke? By some weird quirk of Noble’s Green super-physics, had he been given powers just to see them fade away again? Daniel looked out Georgie’s window. His little brother’s bedroom overlooked the front yard. It didn’t have the same breathtaking view of Mount Noble that Daniel’s attic room had, but above the trees he could still get a look at the clear morning sky.
He peered up at the blue sliver in Georgie’s window and remembered what it was like to be up there, alone with the wind. He needed to know. He needed to see if he could still …
“Fly! Fly! Georgie fly!”
Georgie came into the room wearing nothing but his pajama shirt, a hat made from a brown paper bag, and a bath-towel cape. Daniel’s little brother disdained pants.
“Charge!” shouted Georgie with his arms outstretched as he ran straight at Daniel. Daniel caught his little brother and, in one fluid motion, spun him around. Georgie exploded in giggles.
“Fly! Georgie fly!”
Daniel twirled his brother in three complete circles before letting him collapse at his feet.
“More! More, Daniel, more!” Georgie was so dizzy, he couldn’t even wobble himself up to sitting, but he still wanted to go again.
“Not now, Georgie. My arms are tired.”
“Mooooore!” Georgie pumped his legs in the air, kicking at something that wasn’t there, but Daniel wasn’t in the mood.
“Georgie, I can’t, okay? I’m not strong enough!”
“Everything all right in here?” Daniel’s mother appeared in the doorway holding a bagel and a glass of orange juice. She frowned when she saw Georgie doing bicycle kicks on the floor. “Uh-oh. Is Georgie counting down?”
Counting down was Corrigan family code for when their youngest was near toddler-meltdown. It was a signal to drop everything and secure any and all loose objects. Georgie’s tantrums were forces of nature.
Daniel looked askance at his brother, but Georgie just blew him a raspberry in return and giggled.
“No,” said Daniel. “False alarm.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re finally awake,” said his mother. “Georgie needs to get dressed, and you need to grab a bite to eat. I told Eric that you could take a bagel and juice with you.”
“Eric?”
No sooner had Daniel said his name than his friend stepped into view. He was smiling at them behind a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese.
“Sorry about the surprise visit,” Eric said, “but I wanted to get an early start.”
“A start on what?” asked Daniel.
“Superheroing 101!”
“You boys and your games,” said Daniel’s mother as she began stripping Georgie out of his bath-towel cape and paper-bag hat. “Just be home for lunch.”
“Superheroing 101?” asked Daniel as the two of them climbed the steps to his room, out of earshot of his mother.
Eric smiled as he shrugged. “I flew over here this morning. Powers are back to full. How are you feeling?”
Daniel thought about the changing table. Solid. The unmovable object.
“Nothing. Looks like I’m back to my ordinary, measly self.”
“Well, let’s put it to the test. I wanna figure out what’s going on.” Eric pointed to Daniel’s feet. “Put on a pair of clean socks and grab your shoes. Class is in session!”
The morning chill gave way as the sun appeared above the trees. It was going to be a warm day after all, maybe one of the last of the season. The sky was all clear blue, but the air down on the ground was hazy and still sticky with western Pennsylvania humidity, even this early in the morning. They hiked out into the neighboring woods until they reached a small clearing. The weeds were waist high in places, and Daniel’s jeans kept getting snagged on sticker bushes. But it was private.
“Okay,” said Eric. “First things first. Fly. But this time, go slow!”
“I can’t go at all!” said Daniel. “I told you, I don’t have any powers!”
“Did you have any powers yesterday morning?”
“No.”
“But you did by the end of the day. So we need to test it, to be sure. It’s called the scientific method. You see, I know that because I go to a fine public school—”
Daniel held up a hand and cut Eric off. “Okay, enough. I’ll try. Just shut up.”
Eric grinned like a fool, but he did, in fact, shut up.
Daniel concentrated. He felt nothing except a slowly building urge to sneeze. He gave a little hop. Nothing.
“See?” he said. “I’m a dead battery.”
“Give it a real try,” said Eric. “Arms up!”
“C’mon!”
“Arms up!”
With a sigh, Daniel lifted his arms and stretched his fingers skyward. Eric watched him expectantly.
“Up, up, and away!” said Daniel.
Nothing.
“Okay, then,” said Eric. “So the flight’s gone. What about the strength?”
“I tried it out already. Couldn’t even scoot a piece of bedroom furniture. Is that scientific enough for you?”
Eric rubbed his chin. Then he lifted up off the ground, just a few feet, and hovered there. Daniel couldn’t help but feel a little stab of jealousy, like something nipping at his insides.
“Your powers seem to have disappeared,” Eric said. “And mine are back. When the Shroud stole powers, they never returned. Ever.”
“Maybe mine’s just temporary. Like I’m a Shroud … lite?”
Eric shook his head. “I don’t buy it. If you’re a power thief, why aren’t you stealing my powers right now?”
“Doesn’t prove anything,” said Daniel. “The Shroud’s powers worked on touch.”
“Good point. Let’s try it out.”
Before Daniel could even protest, Eric reached out and grabbed him by the hand. Skin-on-skin contact.
“Don’t worry,” Eric said. “If I fizzle out again, I think I can handle a fall of eight inches.”
Daniel took a breath and waited. And again nothing happened.
“Really try,” said Eric, still holding Daniel’s hand. “Try to will my power away from me. Picture yourself flying!”
Daniel did as he was told. He visualized himself floating there, free of earth, free of gravity itself.
Still nothing. And for once Daniel was glad.
“Huh,” said Eric. “Well, I’d say my hypothesis still stands. Whatever you are, you are not a Shroud.”
“We don’t know that for sure. This is hardly a definitive test.”
“Eh, it’s good enough for me. So what else do we know so far?”
Daniel began listing the facts on his fingers. He was good at this part. This was about evidence—detective work.
“The first time you experienced any kind of power loss was at the bridge, right?”
“Right,” said Eric. “And you didn’t do anything super back there, did you?”
Daniel had been thinking about this. “I did push that car off you.”
“In the water,” said Eric. “That car was still full of air and might not have settled yet. That’s a maybe at best.”
“Okay, we’ll put that into the insufficient-data category.”
“Now you’re sounding like Rohan.”
“Speaking of, he might have some ideas about all this.”
“No!” said Eric suddenly. Daniel was so startled by his friend’s outburst that he actually took a step back. Eric noticed and immediately regained his composure.
“Sorry, I just—Until we know more, I’d like to keep this between us, okay? Rohan’s a worrier and Mollie … Just between us.”
Daniel nodded. The truth was that Eric was a hero to them all, and Daniel couldn’t imagine telling them that Eric was losing his powers and that Daniel might be the cause of it. Better to keep it a secret for now.
“Between us,” agreed Daniel. “So the second time you experienced a power loss was last night?”
“Yeah,” said Eric. “I felt fine right up until I squared off with Clay.”
“At which point my powers kicked in,” said Daniel. “Any other times you’re not telling me about?”
“Nope. Where’s that leave us?”
Daniel looked at his fingers. Two times now Eric’s power had failed him. And he’d been present on both occasions.
“Inconclusive,” said Daniel. “And our attempt to repeat it just now was a failure.…”
“So we wait and see.”
Daniel nodded, but he was frustrated. Daniel wanted to be doing something—he was a detective, and that meant that he looked for answers. He didn’t just wait around. But what else could he do?
“We’ll stay in touch,” said Eric. “If I have another of my episodes, I’ll let you know. If you start flying around the treetops, you let me know.”
The two friends shook hands and said goodbye, and Daniel picked his way through the trees as Eric flew off into the distance. The morning so far had left Daniel with equal parts relief and frustration. His thoughts were a tangle, and he was at the same time disappointed and guilty at feeling disappointed.
The morning didn’t get any better when he returned home to find a smirking Theo Plunkett waiting for him. Eating Daniel’s lunch.
Chapter Seven
Theo and the Bridge
Terrific sandwich, Mrs. Corrigan,” Theo was saying, crumbs spilling out of his mouth as he talked. “Pastrami’s so thin, it reminds me of Manhattan’s best.”
“It was two for one on lunch meat at the local grocer,” said Daniel’s mom. “But thank you anyway.”
Theo Plunkett was sitting at Daniel’s kitchen table contentedly munching Daniel’s lunch. It was so surreal that for just a second, Daniel feared he might be back in his dream.
“Theo, what are you doing here?”
Theo shrugged. “You said you’d take me on a tour of Noble’s Green today. You forget? Your mom was nice enough to let me wait here for you. She makes a terrific pastrami on rye.”
Daniel had forgotten. After yesterday evening’s events he’d forgotten about Theo Plunkett altogether. He seemed like such a minor concern now, a nuisance. And now the kid wanted a tour?
“Oh, yeah, right. And your dad’s okay with it?”
Theo snorted. “Heck, yeah. You made quite an impression on him yesterday. Thinks that it’ll be good for me to spend some time with a fine, upstanding citizen such as yourself.”
Theo must’ve caught the look Daniel’s mother was giving him, because he hastily dropped the smug smile and looked sheepish.
“I mean, I’d really like to make some friends around here too,” he said. “It’s hard being the new kid, you know?”
“So,” said Daniel’s mother. “Theo here tells me he’s the boy from the accident the other day? The one with the car?”
The way Daniel’s mom stretched out the word car, she might as well have been saying life sentence without parole. Of course she’d heard the story of the creek accident (the edited one, anyway—no need to mention the flying boy), and she hadn’t had much good to say about someone who made first impressions by stealing his father’s car and driving it off a bridge.
“Uh, yes,” said Daniel.
“But we’re going on a walking tour today,” added Theo. “I’ve sworn off, uh … other people’s cars.”
Daniel’s mother was unamused.
“I told Theo’s dad I’d show him around,” offered Daniel.
“Promised, actually,” added Theo.
“Right,” said Daniel. “I guess I promised.”
His mother eventually relented, but Daniel could tell that she was still wary. So was Daniel, for that matter.
Daniel’s mother shoved a pastrami sandwich and a banana into his hands and told him to be home before dinner.
Once they were outside, Theo gave him a good-natured slap on the back. Daniel grunted as he wolfed down the food. Theo was obviously misreading Daniel’s sour mood. It had little to do with Theo per se. Daniel just didn’t want to see anyone right now. He wanted to be up there in the sky.
“Hey,” said Theo. “Sorry about all this, but my dad was driving me crazy and I just had to get out of the house. He was on the phone with the mechanic and shouting about the cost of all the repairs to the Porsche. Like we don’t have the money or something. I think he was just trying to guilt-trip me.”
“So,” said Daniel, offering w
hat he hoped was a slightly friendlier tone, “is your dad going to take it out of your allowance or what?”
Theo laughed. “Allowance? Good one, Daniel! That’s something I like about you, man—you’ve got a crazy sense of humor.”
Daniel smiled, but he hadn’t meant the question as a joke. He wondered just how rich Theo’s family really was.
“Should we get going?” Theo asked.
“Sure. We could go up to the Mount Noble Observatory. You can get a great view of the valley. There’s a bus that leaves from Main Street, and I don’t think your dad would object to us using public transportation.”
Theo held up a hand and shook his head. “Actually,” he said, “I had someplace else in mind.”
The Tangle Creek Bridge had a new temporary guardrail installed where Theo’s car had broken through—a short concrete wall capped by two orange plastic barrels. The whole thing looked out of place alongside the rustic old bridge. It felt wrong, but not nearly as wrong as Daniel felt standing there with Theo. They were suspects returning to the scene of the crime.
Theo stood at the edge of the rail, hands in his pockets, looking down at the creek below. The sun hadn’t reached this side of the bridge yet, and the greenish water looked black in the shade. Daniel stood a foot or so behind him. He was painfully aware of how casual he was trying to appear, and how badly he was doing it. This was the last place he wanted to be.
“You know,” Theo said, “you wouldn’t think that a person could survive a fall like that unhurt. Guess I’m lucky the car landed so … softly.”
“Yeah,” answered Daniel. “My gram would’ve called it a miracle.”
“Would’ve?” asked Theo.
“She passed away last year.”
Theo pulled his eyes away from the dark water. “Sorry. I’ve never lost anyone. Not anyone close anyway. I barely knew Uncle Herman.”
“Gram was great. She had a wicked sense of humor—you’d have liked her.”
“Bet I would have. We would’ve argued about one thing, though.”
“What’s that?” asked Daniel.
“I don’t believe in miracles,” answered Theo, slinging his legs over the guardrail. “I wanna get a better look.”
