They were nearing the end of Lazuli Street. If they didn’t turn back, they would enter the hoopla of Broderick square. The idea of tourists caused him to tense, and Alex must have felt it because she placed a hand over his racing heart.
“By the way, since when do you hate attention? You’re a Lasalle.”
“I never asked for it.”
“Spoken like a true attention hog.”
“It’s not the same as cracking jokes or winning a race. I don’t want people to act differently around me.”
“I never would.”
“That’s because you’re stuck with me.”
A cluster of spirits gathered ahead along the side of the road where Lazuli met the square. They chatted excitedly and watched, waiting for something.
“Is there a parade or a festival we didn’t know about?” Alex asked.
He wondered what it would be like to be so blissfully innocent. She didn’t realize they were waiting for her until the spirits began to buzz and the trajectory of their excitement landed on the crown of Alex’s head. She waved, and Chase groaned. If he led her into Broderick Square, she would have a celebrity bull’s-eye on her back. And whether she was willing to wear that bull’s-eye like a prom dress, didn’t matter. He wasn’t willing to find out who might take aim.
She continued to smile at the onlookers, but he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her off the road. “Come on.”
He shoved her through a door shaped like a large P. Stauffer’s Pub. It was a sanctuary with its grungy wooden interior, coating of dust, and scarce crowds. Chase used to escape here a lot.
He and Alex went straight back to the corner, the best spot in the bar, nestled by a cracked, yellow window with age-warped glass. Alex slid onto the bar stool and steered her seat to face him. She placed her hands on his knees, situating herself between them.
He ordered them two drinks, which Stauffer deposited with a gruff nod. Alex took a sip of the mist and jolted back in her seat. She blinked several times and used her knuckles to wipe away invisible tears. “That’s strong.”
Her dark eyes were oversized, along with her hair and her idealism. He’d always been intrigued by the way the shape of her eyes turned down sadly at the edges. She allowed him to stare, and she did the same, as though some unspoken secret sat between them. Even in their minds, they didn’t have to talk. Chase didn’t need words to understand contentment.
He gave her a tug to encourage her to come closer, and she accepted, brushing her lips against his.
This time he was the one to pull back. “Why do you think spirits are so worried about purpose, Al?”
She thought about the question so intently that her brow folded, and he desperately wanted to smooth out the lines it created on her forehead. Her face wasn’t meant to frown.
“We were given this amazing gift. Life. Time. I don’t blame spirits for not wanting to waste it.”
He twirled a loose curl along her temple. “And what about you? Why do you personally think you, in particular, were given this gift?”
“You’re being very serious today.”
“Is this too serious? We can change the subject if you want. How about that blue flower you’ve been carrying around. I’ll bet Skye stuffed it in your pocket, didn’t she?”
The corner of Alex’s tiny, pink mouth lifted. “No, we don’t have to change the subject. I think I was dealt a shady hand in life. This could be my repentance.”
“Because you were sick?”
“No. Because of you. We didn’t get a chance when we were alive. It wasn’t fair.”
His feelings for her swelled and threatened to burst from his projection. The electricity between them hummed, and the light on the bar beside them dimmed, brightened, and then died.
Chase took a sip from his drink and spoke without thinking. “Do you think spirits live here together?”
Whoa. Where did that come from? Once the words left his mouth, he pictured himself waking up each morning and finding her next to him, and he wanted it. They deserved that.
“Where? In the city?” She flattened her mouth. “I never thought about it, but I don’t see why not. There are so many high rises in the government square.”
“They say minds aren’t meant to be shared, but it doesn’t seem like we really have a choice. Commitment is a lot different when there is no …”
“‘Til death do you part?” she finished for him, and he nodded. “Death already did us part. It didn’t work.”
Too close for comfort.
“You think you’ll get sick of me?” she asked.
“In a world of infinite opportunities? No.”
“What if we were in a more limited world?”
“No.” The grin on his face felt stupidly wide, but he couldn’t help it and he didn’t care. “You keep life pretty interesting. And death, too.”
She gritted her teeth. “Not intentionally. I can’t believe you brought up living arrangements after Brigitta, and you haven’t even let me see your room.”
He liked the few moments of watching her sleep before she woke up and saw him. “I don’t want you to get into any trouble.”
“My record is clean. How’s yours looking?” She rested an elbow on the bar, glancing behind it. “There might be a broom back there.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re going to clean my record. Did you forget that you’re the reason it’s such a mess in the first place?”
Alex’s face became serious. At first, Chase thought he’d offended her, but he followed her gaze to the window where there was now a group of spirits outside gawking through the hazy glass. Some seemed angry, shaking their heads and sneering. Others were curious, swaying from side to side to sneak a better peek at Alex. Many of them held papers in their hands.
Stauffer’s Pub never attracted more than a handful of barflies, but Chase was so engrossed in Alex and their conversation that he hadn’t noticed the buzz. Each stool around the bar was filled. The tables crowded with spirits pretending to watch the prehistoric televisions mounted on the wall, but their attention crawled to the corner by the window, to them. How long until these barflies bit?
What could make one person so fascinating that people would stalk them? The heat of his anger returned.
“How did they know you were here?” he wondered aloud.
“Skye mentioned something about a map.”
“A what?”
“Do you need another drink?” a man on the other side of Alex asked in an accented voice. He extended his hand, reaching out for her with tattooed fingers.
“Don’t touch her,” Chase warned.
“Chase.”
He pulled Alex closer to him, pressing his hands on either side of her waist.
The guy held up his palms in defense. “No harm.”
Even as he said it, he took a step closer, bringing his muddy colors with him. Muddy wasn’t good. This guy couldn’t decide what he wanted to do here.
Stauffer watched them while slowly scrubbing the bar with a rag. He turned to glare at the musty window where the dust rose like ashes and clouded the view.
“There’s a back door, yeh know,” he whispered. “Leads out to Gramble Street.”
Alex looked from Stauffer to the window, and then back to Stauffer in surprise. “We don’t have to leave.”
A girl climbed off her barstool and hurried over to them, shoving an envelope in Alex’s face. “I was wondering if you might be able to tell me about my grandchildren. Their pictures are here.”
Alex stumbled over a response, visibly confused, but Chase understood. If people thought she was Sephi, she’d be able to give them answers to impossible questions.
Chase’s heart pounded. Curious people were one thing, but curious was one step away from crazy. Alex reached out and placed her open palm over his heart once again to still his racing pulse, but her touch was more like a zap of electricity.
The window bes
ide them exploded and shattered glass fell like rain. Chase worried that his panic had caused a reaction until a brick thudded on the ground at their feet. Chase cursed and pushed Alex into motion.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He kept her in his sight, trailing behind her as they walked to the back of the bar where Stauffer waited to show them out to safety. One word drifted around the room, spoken in different voices. Chase’s mind shuffled like a deck of cards, as the word bounced from wall to wall, slamming itself against the confines of his memory. Havilah. That’s what they were all talking about.
Havilah. It was a Parrish family.
Why the hell would they know that name here?
Chapter Six
September was loud. Alex assumed the reason was either the looming chaos of autumn festivities or the electricity of change. September whistled while it worked, carrying an array of opportunities in its briefcase, but the shifting of seasons did not affect tourism in Eidolon.
“Skye, how do you deal with it?”
“What?”
“People staring at you all the time.”
Skye pointed at Alex’s shoes as they thumped down the vestibule ramp. “Seriously, are you trying to make that much noise?”
“Sorry. I like the clicking sound.”
“You’re so weird. Anyway, is this because of the mob scene you created on Lazuli the other day? I hear spirits are actually asking for your autograph now.”
And throwing bricks. “By the way, your steps are making as much noise as mine.”
“I’m just trying to keep up.” Skye dropped to her bottom and slid down the rest of the ramp into the vestibule. At the foot of the ramp, she jumped to her feet. “You don’t strike me as a wallflower. I’m sure you had plenty of attention in life.”
No. Any favor Alex had earned in life rode the emotion of sympathy. No one wanted to trade lives with the sick girl, even if her friends happened to be the Lasalles. Such renown didn’t fall into the same desirable category as Gossamer charm. Skye complained about her hippie community, but she still went to school like everyone else, where Alex felt positive Skye was as desired then as she was now.
Alex was only getting attention for something she wasn’t. She knew she was standing on Sephi Anovark’s pedestal. Spirits took swings at her, but at such a height, the danger posed little threat and only meant more recognition. Since the publication of Sigorny’s first article, spirits began to reach out their fingers to feel the energy of her projection. It frightened Chase, she knew, but she couldn’t ignore the buzz of it, the high of fame. It was difficult to hate it.
Alex followed Skye into the courtyard. The day smelled of fresh earth, so another newbury might have arrived or the rain was simply making a statement. “Spirits bow to you when you steal their seat in class. You get the royal treatment wherever you go.”
“I’m a Gossamer. Comes with the territory.”
Alex kicked a rock. “They’ve never tried to remove you from school for it.”
Skye stopped. “What are you talking about?”
Alex focused on the moss growing through the cracks of the stone walkway. “Romey had a meeting with me the other day to discuss my options. I guess there’s been talk of keeping me away from everybody. Not forever. Just for a while until things die down.”
They paused to watch a rowboat float by in the fog. When it disappeared into the trees, they began to walk again.
“What about your workshops?” Skye asked.
“I’d do them here at Brigitta or in the classroom alone.”
Skye’s mouth fell open. “Whoa. Really? What did you say?”
“I didn’t have to say anything. Westfall stood up for me.” She took in Skye’s shocked expression. “I know, right? He said if we isolated me, people would treat me even more differently. He thinks the best thing to do is to act like I’m just another newbury. That’s why I asked you how you deal with it.”
“Did you not use that flower I gave you? Everything will work out. The world wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I guess I’m still trying to figure out if this craze is good or bad.”
Skye looked her up and down as they climbed the steps to the learning center. “You want to be like everyone else? She who likes to make noise when she walks?”
“Well, no.”
“All right, then.” The red in Skye’s hair lightened. “I came to that conclusion a long time ago. Craze comes with the territory. You can’t have it all. If you want to stand out, you are going to have to sacrifice a little bit of privacy, and if that means people stare at you while you and Chase make out in the street, then fine.”
“We don’t do that.”
“Please. You’re all over each other.”
They entered Duvall’s macabre classroom, wallpapered with vials of slime, frames of gray bones, and the moaning of rot. Above their heads, thousands of tiny glass tubes and flasks swayed and clanked together, harmonizing a symphony that sounded vaguely familiar. Carnival of the Animals, Alex’s mind told her. The lopsided office door opened, and Duvall stuck out her head of raggedy hair. She grinned upward at the field of glass and jerked her arms around to direct the music.
Alex slid into a desk next to the aquarium, pretending she didn’t feel left out when Skye and Duvall began their usual gossiping. Duvall never asked Alex for her observations, only Skye. How in the world did Skye know that the trees had a lousy night? How did she know that the fountain mist in the vestibule needed to be refreshed? How did she know that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred in the courtyard that morning?
Many times Alex attempted to interrupt their ridiculous conversations, but before she could form words, Duvall stomped her foot and Alex’s thoughts flattened against the ground of her mind.
Duvall snapped her knobby fingers. “Alex, did Skye get a chance to look at Sephi’s letters?”
Skye retracted and crinkled her nose. “Oh, I sure did.”
“What’s wrong?”
Skye shuddered. “The second I touched that devil box, it snapped at me like a guard dog.”
Alex swore she heard the box snarl that day. “Skye cowered in the corner and cried.”
“I don’t like that thing. I think you should bury it and never look at it again.”
“Cobwebs!” For Duvall, this was a curse word. She pushed up the sleeves of her layers of wool to reveal deathly skinny arms. “I’m not responsible for the personalities of my creations, but the box served its purpose. It kept Sephi’s treasures safe.”
Skye moaned. “Please tell me that what you have in mind for us this morning has nothing to do with those letters.”
“You’re in luck. The task I have for you is simple. Travel down the river and to the edge of our boundaries on the western side of the city. Remember the tree with the bark that coils and twists like ribbons?”
This didn’t sound simple to Alex. The new workshops would begin in a few hours, and she didn’t want to exert all of her energy playing go-fetch.
“You know which one I speak of?”
“Yes,” Skye replied.
“I need some of the bark.”
“How much?” Before Skye even finished the question, Duvall was handing her a burlap sack.
“Fill it, please.” She handed another one to Alex.
“That’s a big—”
Skye shushed her. “I’ve seen the tree before. The banana slugs love it. Are you making more Thymoserum?”
A box waited on the floor by their feet. Duvall used her mind to transfer multiple vials from the ceiling into the box. “It isn’t for my own personal use. No matter the level of intelligence and study in the Broderick Division of Science, they still don’t make Thymoserum as effectively as I do. They don’t appreciate the diligence of doing something by hand nor do they understand the temperament of botanicals and the attitudes of minerals.”
With that, she shooed them away.
> Alex struggled to keep up with Skye. She felt frazzled, and it showed. No matter how hard she concentrated, she kept looking down at mismatched clothes, and her hair fell annoyingly in front of her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Skye asked. “Is it the Eskers kids?”
They would be there today. Alex couldn’t avoid them during workshops.
“Stop worrying. You’re making the air shake. There’s nothing harmful about those kids except for overeagerness and botched ambition.”
Alex wished she could believe that. She reminded herself that considering Skye’s lack of consciousness during the Eskers battle and beating last spring, she didn’t carry the same traumatic memories as Alex.
“Have you seen them since the Grandiuse?”
Alex shook her head.
They kept quiet until they reached a ramose creek, which divided like driveways in a cul-de-sac. Alex stopped, but Skye continued to tread along a path running parallel to the leftmost branch of the creek.
Alex concentrated on her feet so she wouldn’t leave tracks in the mud. Or get it on her shoes. “Where do these creeks lead?”
“Coming up soon.”
As they traveled, the water quieted until it became silent. They reached a lone pier, leading to a simple wooden cottage. As if finding this in the middle of the woods wasn’t strange enough, the water whitened, frozen around the pier despite the heat. If she tried hard enough, Alex could hear the icy water screaming.
“Who lives here?”
Skye shrugged. “Not sure, but each part of the creek leads to a different house.”
“Is the tree here?”
“Not far now.” She ignored Alex’s exaggerated sigh. “I don’t think you realize how far we’ve gone so quickly.”
“Where are we?”
“A few miles from campus.”
“Miles?”
“You concentrated on following me. I concentrated on projecting us places.”
No wonder Alex felt dizzy.
Skye shook her shoulders in a little dance. “That’s why I didn’t tell you what I was doing. You question everything. Even right now. There’s a question hanging off your lips. I can see it dangling there.”
Of Delicate Pieces Page 5
