by Nicola Marsh
Sheepish yet adorable, he shrugged. “We wanted to see if you were okay.”
Their concern touched me, and the enormity of the truth teetered on the tip of my tongue. Maybe if I told them it would make absorbing the bizarreness of all this easier to accept. They’d probably understand.
I dismissed the thought in a second; I’d finally made friends for the first time in my life and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. Right now, two of us shared average run-of-the-mill telemetric skills, while Quinn was blissfully normal, a fact I liked in my increasingly topsy-turvy world. Mention my teleportation and world savior crap, and who knew what they would think? What if they didn’t believe me and thought I was some crazy attention-seeking liar? Would they think I was trying to go one up? Be the best? Suck up to Brigit for outstanding grades?
I knew what that was like, kids thinking I was a suck up. I’d been through it every school year. But I didn’t want that to happen here. I didn’t want to alienate Quinn or Raven. I liked them. Besides, I’d probably need them before this thing was through.
“I’m fine.” I closed the door to Brigit’s office and glanced at my watch. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”
Raven raised an eyebrow. “Could say the same about you.”
I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at Brigit’s office and grimaced. “Had to stay in there ’til I was feeling better.”
“Wanna ditch for the morning?” Raven suggested.
I laughed at Quinn’s horrified expression before he quickly masked it.
“Something tells me our learned friend here doesn’t want to miss classes first day of a new term.”
Quinn flashed me a grateful smile while Raven rolled her eyes. “He’s so desperate to swap crystallomancy for algebra it’s pathetic.”
“It’s my first day. Guess I should show up at a class or two,” I said, leaping to Quinn’s defense and earning a wink for my troubles.
“Lameasses,” Raven muttered, shaking her head. “I’ll make you a deal. One quick coffee, then we’ll head to class.”
“Deal,” Quinn said. “You in?”
“Sure.” I nodded, forcing a smile. If I didn’t want my friends learning the truth, I had to start acting normal. As we fell into step, I ignored the tiny voice inside my head that said “Acting normal? Waaay too late for that.”
CHAPTER NINE
As we rounded the first corner, Raven received a text that sent her scuttling to her room, saying she’d catch up with us soon, and no amount of teasing or prying from Quinn could get anything out of her.
While Raven went off on her mysterious text jaunt, Quinn kept up a steady flow of chatter as we headed to the dining hall. I loved that, the dining hall. No plain old cafeteria for C.U.L.T.
“Did Brigit help?”
“With … ?”
“What happened earlier?”
“Yeah, she clarified a few things.” Like how I should be a good little girl and do as I was told—or die.
“Good. I bet it’s scary when all that weird stuff starts happening to you.”
I wondered if he was patronizing me, but his guileless green eyes made me want to trust him.
“Bet a tough guy like you wouldn’t be scared.”
The green darkened to moss as something dark and painful shifted.
“It pays to be scared.”
Before I could probe further, he smiled, his momentary seriousness gone. “You know what? Screw coffee. I’m starving. Time for an early lunch.”
The round antique wall clock over his left shoulder read ten-thirty. “You’re nuts.”
“Matter of opinion.” Grinning, he jerked his thumb in the direction of the serving line. “Besides, I skipped breakfast.”
I sent a few oinks his way as I followed him. The crazy thing was, as soon as I smelled the food, my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t had anything to eat since last night. I grabbed a tray and started loading it.
While the dining hall itself looked like something out of Harry Potter, all long tables, high ceilings and chandeliers, the food on offer was surprisingly tame. I piled a wholegrain turkey sub, a strawberry yogurt, and an apple on my tray and followed Quinn to a nearby table.
I hesitated, unsure which seat to take, not wanting to make a social gaffe. Sensing my discomfort, Quinn pointed at an empty chair and sat next to me. “Relax. Everyone’s been where you are right now.”
“In this seat?”
He grinned. “You’re thawing enough to crack jokes. Good.”
“I’m not frozen.”
“I guess not.”
Well aware he was referring to my burn-up session earlier, I shuffled in my seat and picked at a strand of lettuce hanging out of the sub. “Can we not talk about before—”
“Forgotten.” He focused on his giant burrito doused in chili, but not before I’d glimpsed his raging curiosity.
“You really going to eat that at this hour?”
In response, he forked a giant clump of avocado, refried beans, and chili into his mouth, chewed quickly, and followed with a soda chaser. “Does that answer your question?”
Wrinkling my nose, I laughed, the happy sound strangely foreign.
He stabbed his fork in the direction of my sub. “Besides, it beats boring old turkey any day.”
Yep, that was me, boring. Boring wardrobe. Boring taste. Boring social life.
My forehead tingled, making a mockery of my pity party for one, reminding me exactly how un-boring I’d become. “Any other newbies apart from Raven?”
“The rest have been here a while, six months or longer.” He waved his fork at the tables around us, scattered with groups of students. “That’s why they’re hanging around here rather than in class. Seniors have different schedules and loads more free time. And even juniors get to set their own schedule to a certain extent. Makes for small class sizes and quicker learning potential, apparently.”
Glancing around the huge hall, I noticed the general rowdiness of a normal cafeteria was not there. Instead, a muted hum filled the room like a low buzz from a million bees. Maybe the kids here didn’t like talking as much as other kids? Considering why some of them were here, I didn’t blame them.
Jerking my thumb toward a corner where an African-American kid was surreptitiously toasting his bagel with fire from his fingertips, I lowered my voice. “The normal kids are okay with watching weird stuff?”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t be here if they weren’t into all that New Age jargon, so nothing’s a secret here.”
I couldn’t distinguish any particular groups beyond the popular girls fussing over manicures. No nerds with heads buried in books while they absentmindedly shoved food in their mouths, no geeks sharing megabyte data as they huddled over the latest technology. Here in Weirdsville, kids just mingled, moving between tables, comfortable in their own skin.
I envied them that, big time.
“Wonder if we’ll ever fit in like that?” Quinn nodded at a group of laughing kids playing around with tarot, his uncertainty echoing my own.
“Seems like you already do.”
His mouth curved into a laid-back smile that was becoming oddly familiar. “My mom calls me a chameleon. Always adapting to my surroundings.”
“Good trait to have.” Wish I had it, so I could blend in and hide from obsessive principals and hot warriors and lords of darkness.
He took another gulp of soda and set the can down. “What about your mom? Is she happy you’re here?”
My hand stilled halfway to my mouth, my appetite instantly vanishing. I replaced the sub on the plate. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
“Just making a little friendly conversation.” He folded his forearms, rested them on the table, and leaned forward, creating an intimacy that made me uncomfortable. “Don’t know about you, but I could use all the friends I can get in this place.”
Quinn had a gift, one that was just as valuable as anything supernatural: putting people at ease. Other guys would’ve bristled
at my defensiveness, lost their temper, or slouched off, calling me names under their breath. He, on the other hand, knew the right thing to say.
“My mom vanished when I was a baby. My Nan raised me … ” I hesitated. “Mom’s part of the visions I’ve been having. It’s seriously weird.”
He searched my face and then nodded, satisfied that I’d told the truth. And I had. Just not all of it.
“Do you think the visions will help you find her?”
“Not sure I want to.”
His jaw sagged slightly. “O-kay then.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Aren’t all parents?”
Latching onto a quick deflection of attention, I said, “What’s your story?”
He shrugged and took another slug of his soda, but not before I glimpsed a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “The usual. Dad ran off before I was born, Mom worked two jobs to make ends meet. I had a high IQ, which made me stand out at high school when I wanted to blend in. Then Aunt Brigit pressured Mom into sending me here to see if I’d develop any latent talents, and Mom, who’s big on psychic phooey, jumped at the chance.”
He tried to sound blasé, but I knew better. Being different sucked, but at least I had a reason for boarding here with the rest of the freaks.
“How close are you to your aunt?”
He screwed up his nose. “Honestly? I barely know her. She turned up at our place out of the blue a few years ago, Dad’s long-lost sister apparently. Mom never doubted who she was, but … ”
I raised an eyebrow, sensing a story.
“It’s kinda weird, you know, having someone you don’t know act all friendly and offering you a place at school and watching you on the off chance you’ll develop a talent other than blitzing algebra and impressing women.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop from laughing out loud.
“You and Raven are the only ones who know Brigit’s my aunt. The rest think I’m some teacher’s pet suck up.”
“Harsh.”
He shrugged. “Who gives a rat’s ass? I grew up surrounded by my mom’s New Age crap, so I guess I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope something would come of my incarceration here.” He chugged back the rest of his soda, crushed the empty can, and lobbed it into the trash. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll outsmart you and Miss Moving Objects?”
Whatever talent Quinn might or might not develop, it’d have to be pretty damn spectacular to beat my gift.
“Do you miss your old school? Your mom? The city?”
He smiled, tiny laugh lines fanning out from the corner of his mouth, reminding me how seriously cute he was. “Now who’s playing twenty questions?”
Sheepish, I toyed with the rest of my sub before ditching it. “Nan always said I was too curious for my own good.”
“Your Nan’s cool with you being here?”
“Nan’s in a coma.”
Tears burned, but I’d be damned if I cried in front of him. I’d learned to hide my true feelings from a young age, a handy trait for someone like me.
“Hey, you okay?”
He reached out and touched the back of my hand. I snatched it away, hating feeling so vulnerable. I was used to keeping everything locked inside, putting on a brave face for Nan, pretending like everything was okay.
Did Nan know about me from the start?
Did Mom know?
Is that why she left?
Did the possibility of having a freak for a daughter send her running?
“Holly, if you don’t want to talk—”
“Hey, Psycho Man, move over.” Raven teasingly bumped shoulders with Quinn as she sat on his other side, and I exhaled in relief. I didn’t want to talk. What I wanted was answers and there was only one way to get them.
Find my mom.
I picked up my tray and stood. “I have to go.” Raven’s face fell and I forced a smile to put her at ease. “Psycho Man?”
“Psycho, short for psychometric. Our friend here is very touchy-feely, so I reckon he could be psychometric, able to read people by touching them.” Raven placed the tips of her fingers against her temples, and leaned into Quinn. “I think I’m getting something. A vibe.” She winked at me. “Nope, sorry, no vibe, just a vain hope for asking out one of the Movers and Shakers.”
Quinn scooted away from her with a death glare. “You’re a riot.”
“Movers and Shakers?”
Raven took a bite of her chicken sandwich and waved at Quinn to answer.
“The telekinetic crowd, like our resident clown here, who move things.” He jerked a thumb in Raven’s direction, who continued to munch into her sandwich while flipping him the bird.
Their antics soothed my fear so I lingered a little longer. “Let me get this straight. Psychos are the psychometrics, Movers and Shakers are telekinetics. Any other group I should know about?”
Raven held up the fingers on one hand and ticked them off one by one. “The Cogs are your average post-cognitive and precognitive dudes, the Firestarters are the pyrokinetics, the Crybabies are the empathics, the Zeldas are the clairvoyants, and the MindReaders are the telepaths.”
I gaped as she pushed down her last finger, not sure what confused me more, the nicknames or the range of abilities people here had.
“You’ve bamboozled her.” Quinn shook his head. “Precogs have visions, like you, pyrokinetics produce heat or fire, empathics gain knowledge by touching an object or person, clairvoyants predict the future, and telepaths are a mix of precog and clairvoyant.”
“Clear as mud,” I mumbled as Raven crooked her finger at me and I leaned forward.
“Just so you know, those names aren’t public knowledge.”
I liked these two, I really did, but I had more pressing things to do than stick around and swap banter, like find Brigit and ask how the hell I could get back to Eiros and start searching for Mom—oh, and her precious Arwen.
“I have to go catch up with Brigit before I eventually make it to class. Maybe later?”
“Yeah, sure,” Raven said, her disappointment audible. Quinn did a funny half-salute thing that made me smile as I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I took two steps before I realized something. At Wolfebane High, no one had cared whether I left the lunch table early. Quinn and Raven made me feel something I’d never thought I’d ever feel at school.
Like I belonged.
CHAPTER TEN
I caught a glimpse of Brigit striding across the grounds toward her office as I left the dining hall. I hurried after her, needing answers to the questions raised by her text. It had mentioned something about a crystal being able to teleport me when combined with the sun. Hopefully Brigit could elaborate.
My footsteps pounded the pavement and Brigit stopped, her initial frown easing, replaced by a benevolent smile that didn’t soothe my anxiety for a second. “I was just coming back to see how you were getting on. I suppose you have loads of questions.”
“Only a few hundred or so.”
“Well then, let’s head back to my office and see if I can answer some of them.”
“I’d rather get the answers firsthand. From the people involved,” I added, as if she wouldn’t know who I was talking about if her little spiel about waiting years for the chosen one to walk through her school was any indication.
She rubbed her hands together at my apparent enthusiasm to return to Eiros.
“Come with me.”
She led me down a neatly trimmed path winding through towering oaks before stopping near the river. I saw an old stone shed nearby.
“Did you read up on teleportation?”
I shook my head, feeling every bit the slacker student under the principal’s watchful eye. “Only the basics.” What with Arwen and the geis and impending death hanging over my head.
“You need to understand the science behind astral travel if this is going to work.”
I nodded, wishing she’d hurry up. Clouds churned and shifted overhead. If that shed nearby was made of stone,
I’d bet the roof had some of those weird holes. Holes plus sun plus some stupid legend binding me to Bel equaled instant teleportation.
Holding up a finger, she said, “Concentrate. Empty your mind. Focus. Tell me what you see.”
My inner smartass wanted to say a finger but this was too important to muck up. I stared at her finger, deliberately blanking my mind, half-expecting sparks to fly out the end. Instead, a thick white band appeared, shimmering around her finger like the ring around Saturn. I didn’t blink, too afraid it would disappear, and was surprised when the ring turned golden.
I risked a blink and refocused on her finger, thrilled when the golden ring was still there. A small victory, minute in the grand scheme of things, but it felt good—great, in fact—to make something happen.
“You see it, don’t you?”
Brigit’s voice quivered with excitement, and I nodded, blinking several times to ease the dryness in my eyes. The golden band disappeared.
“The energy field around objects is the etheric plane. All objects are part of a physical plane, and a portal is a wormhole of energy within the light matrix of a physical plane.”
My attention started to wander and she smiled. “There is so much for you to learn. Ultimately, you will have to create your own portal to travel to and from Eiros, using heat and your third eye.” Her finger pointed at the spot on my forehead. “So far, you’ve been able to psychically teleport only, which means your psyche instantaneously traveled to Eiros.”
“Does that mean my psyche can teleport to other places too?”
“No, you’re bound to Belenus, so your geis ties you to Eiros only.”
I swiped my brow in an exaggerated show of relief, but she didn’t smile.
“For you to find Arwen, you’ll need to master the art of extensive teleportation, when your body and spirit move as one.” Fixing me with a serious glare that meant business, she lowered her voice. “The only way to dodge an attack is to use this method. Otherwise … ” She shook her head. “Your psyche can teleport to escape a battle, but if your body is left behind … ”
