Romey had silenced him, too, but not before Chase snatched the book from Tess’s lap and hurled it across the room. The velocity was enough to knock Jack off his feet. Several newburies cheered, but others reached out to help Jack. Alex couldn’t believe it.
Romey answered a few more questions before directing them to either behave in the vestibule or retire to their rooms.
Alex wasn’t going to stay in the vestibule with the likes of the Bonds and Sigorny. She wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation or an exclusive about her defensiveness if she refused to comment. She did, however, have an entire load of books with her, as well as the brilliant mind of Gabe Lasalle sitting across from her. She figured she might as well take advantage of the confinement.
Paleo’s latest history assignment was about the early technology leading to afterworld exposure, and there were centuries to cover. It took Alex an hour to finish reading several hundred pages, but by then, the Lasalles needed entertainment, so they helped her construct a miniature replica of Pumapunku, one of the first documented spirited cities. After helping Chase with his debate notes for Law class, which had been taken over by Westfall, Alex attempted to practice her meditating techniques but it was too chaotic in the vestibule.
“We don’t have to stay down here,” Chase said.
“Are you in my mind or reading my face?”
“A little of both,” he said, standing and extending a hand.
“I thought you couldn’t let me out of your sight.”
“I don’t plan to.”
Her reaction was a pleasant dread, like holding a promising hand of cards and waiting for her turn, knowing she’d win but unable to control the building anticipation. Chase was a frequent visitor in her room, but if he followed orders, he would be there all night. She could only imagine the embarrassing colors exposing her girlish anxieties.
Kaleb said goodnight with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. Chase smacked the back of his head.
Skye marked her spot in a book about South American plant life. “Is Rae with you?”
“She’s probably upstairs. No way would she be down here in this crowd.”
Skye twisted her lips. “Be careful, okay.”
“There’s no danger in my room.”
“I didn’t see Rae go upstairs.”
Gabe poked his head around his book. “The curfew doesn’t apply to her. I guess you guys skipped that section of our Brigitta manual.”
“Manual?” Chase mouthed with his back to Gabe.
Alex grinned.
“The wording is specific, and technically, as the laws apply to citizens only, she is supposed to vacate the city in the instance of an emergency.”
The word “vacate” echoed in Alex’s head. “They’d kick her out?”
“Not likely. They have bigger fish to fry right now, but she shouldn’t get in their way.”
Chase raised a brow. “I doubt she’s going for a stroll in the middle of a manhunt. Or womanhunt.”
Alex nodded, hoping he was right.
The seventh-floor corridor was quiet, and the door to her room burst open as though it was in desperate need of company. Alex searched the room for Rae and noticed calm waves of energy rising from her desk chair. They extended like ocean waves might reach for the shore before retracting and returning to their source. Rae was asleep in the chair. Her feet curled underneath her while her head lobbed backward, her mouth ajar.
Alex placed her books on the desk and noticed the box of Syrus Raive’s letters had scuttled further back into the corner under the shadow on the desk. Still resentful. She’d flung it to the ground after it crept into her lap during the meditation. And sometimes now when she dreamed of Sephi, the box would emerge from its cave, wanting to listen.
Chase caught her sizing up the box. “Now we know why you were able to read the letters.”
“Why?”
“Duvall said that she thought you were connected to Sephi because they were hers. Only someone connected to her should be able to see them. Wouldn’t the same be true of Syrus Raive? He wrote them.”
Alex cursed her own stupidity. “I can’t believe we told Duvall about the Havilahs. We should have known better.”
“You aren’t responsible for your family and you didn’t know what the Havilahs did in the past.”
“I’m not sure how a civilization like this one could have so many technological advances, inventions, and ideas, but they never researched Raive’s background. Wouldn’t they want to know where he came from?”
“I’m sure certain people do know,” said Chase. “You forget that spirits see what they want to see. No one expected him to be a Havilah because he was born in a gifted territory. And on that note, I wonder how my darling brother knew where to go. Who do you think gave him the information?”
“That’s the million dollar question.” Alex sighed.
“Why do I have the feeling he’s doing something he shouldn’t be?”
“Because you’re worried about him.”
Chase’s forehead crinkled. “I wish I wasn’t. Why can’t I hate him?”
“Because you’re you.”
And that’s why she loved him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Across town, Lucia Duvall crouched down on the endless knot outside the Dual Tower building. She heard movement in the woods beside her and the tree leaves rustled, creating a voice to warn her of the Patrol’s presence. She wondered how many officers were stalking her. Most of them were searching the city like she was, but unless the Patrol was losing its touch some of them were assigned to her surveillance. As if she’d been in cahoots with the gifted after so many years.
She folded her legs under her and sat on the knot. She felt the power of three gifted souls, but one was more powerful than the others. She couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl, but it had left its fingerprints all over the place, which could be due to inexperience or defiance. Duvall would have done the same thing to give the proverbial finger to Eidolon’s lawmakers. The gifted were more trapped than spirits. It was a shame that extraordinary lives could not belong to the soul. A few bruised apples could taint the reputation of the entire orchard.
Judging by the traces, the gifted child was looking for something but didn’t know where to look. It had plenty of time. No spirits expected to see it, and therefore, they didn’t. That was the tricky thing about a world operated by the mind; the more complicated the ideas, the more nooks in which to hide. Duvall was certain the child had arrived because of Alex Ash. The last Havilah was dead; the gifted were celebrating. At the same time, they wanted a peek at the new Sephi.
“But you needn’t fear them,” Duvall whispered to the shadows in case the Patrol—or even the gifted—could hear. “Their intention was not to harm. They must have been taken by surprise.”
She dug into her pocket and felt the tickle of lycopodium. She curled her hand into a fist and grinded the small plants against her palm. She extracted her hand and opened it at her mouth like blowing a kiss into the wind. The particles escaped and stuck to the air like static, revealing what she already knew. They uncovered the fingerprints stuck like graffiti.
Handprints appeared one at a time, pressed against the bricks of the buildings and glowing like fire. They blended together to form letters, and those letters formed words. Finally, when the prints ceased, Duvall took several steps back to look at the message that spanned three buildings.
Acta, Non Verba.
Duvall cocked her head. Actions, not words. They had used quite a bit of effort to write such a vague message. And for what reason would they use Latin?
Duvall inspected the ground and the words etched into the stone at her feet: Si Monumentum Requiris, Circumspice. The message was inscribed during the construction of the city to remind spirits of the legacy of the town. If you seek monument, look around.
The small handprints covered the word monumentum and instead spelled out malum. Cri
me. Evil. Damage.
If you seek evil, look around.
***
Jonas flicked the drooping branches of the large tree as he passed it, hating it. Bad memories came by the truckloads in Parrish. He and his brothers used to hide their loot under the roots. His initials loomed larger than the others because he thought the size of them would make him bigger, more significant, but that had never been the case in the Lasalle family.
He never wanted to come back to this godforsaken town, and he never thought he’d have to. And now, less than two years after his death, he trekked through these same damn woods again.
He was bitter that they threw him to the wolves in Astor, Oregon, but they were pleased he made contact with the gifted. We needed to send you. You were the only one innocent enough not to offend them.
There were different spirits each time he went back to Home Base, as they called it. All of them were pleased he made contact with Alex. Some gathered together looking over documents. Others pinned up maps with shaded regions or blueprints with notes all over them. He didn’t know what they were doing, but he’d seen the spirits in charge, and that was enough for him. For now, at least. He would do whatever they wanted. Even if it meant going home.
He argued that there wouldn’t be witches living in a witch-hating town, but thinking twice, he had a hunch. He stood at the threshold of Thea Frank’s old shack and attempted to ignore the jingling of bells. Damn Jester. He forgot who he was dealing with because he walked right through the door and appeared on the other side, thinking he couldn’t be seen.
Liv squatted on the floor by the fireplace, trying to get the logs to ignite. He blinked and sent a jolt of energy her way. The flames erupted with a whoosh, like the sound of shaking a bed sheet.
Liv turned and her mouth fell open. “Jonas.”
Shit.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The thrill of the lockdown had worn off. Now that Alex was safe in her room and Rae was accounted for, she felt nervous about the sleeping arrangements. Chase draped himself over Alex’s loveseat as though this was no big deal.
“It’s not a big deal, Alex.”
“Stay out of my head.” She took her books from her bag and placed them on the shelf above her desk.
“Calm down.” Chase massaged his temples. “You’re going to give me a headache.” He stood up and walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room.”
“You said you wouldn’t let me out of your sight!”
The desk chair slid in front of him, but he walked through it. “What sort of trouble could you get into hanging out in your room? I’ll come back after you’re asleep when you’re not so … ” he waved his hand around, “ … analytical.”
The door didn’t open for him at first, and Alex saw Chase’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. The hinges creaked as the door popped out to give him a crack through which to escape.
Alex flopped down on her bed, fiddling with the edge of the comforter and trying to fight the disappointment rising inside of her. This was their chance. Westfall had given them an order so they couldn’t get into trouble if one of them didn’t stay in their own room that night. She’d blown it. Regret surrounded her in a cloud, and when she swatted at it, it thickened.
She slid off her bed to get away, but the cloud followed her until she reached the door, which still hadn’t shut after Chase’s exit. Actually, it was open even wider. She took it as a suggestion and headed out. The cloud dissipated.
She’d never ventured above the seventh floor. She assumed all the hallways were the same, resembling a hotel or dorm, but not the eighth floor. It looked like a door showroom. Some propped against the wall. Other doors were freestanding or flat on the ground. They were painted all different colors and shaped like keyholes or diamonds or crescents. Some had knockers or locks, wrought iron designs or windows with nothing on the other side. She stopped in front of her favorite one, a distressed orange door with ivy around the frame. It swung open to reveal Chase waiting with his arms crossed.
“I wondered how long it would take you.”
She knew him better than that. “You were worried.”
“Your door didn’t close when I left. Dead giveaway.”
“Can I come in?”
He stepped back with an outstretched hand.
Alex felt her pulse quicken, though without a body she felt detached from it. The stronger feeling within her was Chase’s anticipation as she took in the scene. She spun around to face him.
“Really?”
He shrugged and ran his hand over the top of his hair. It was his room in Parrish. Every single detail was the same even the family and sports photos pinned to the wall next to his ball caps and concert tickets. On his desk sat the picture of him with his arm slung around Alex, and they smiled so wide their toothless grins took up their whole faces. A note in Danya’s handwriting stuck to the desk, telling him to please finish his laundry. Next to that was a sticky note that said she loved him. Atop the laundry pile was his white dress shirt from the night of the dance. Also from that night, Alex’s blue dress lay in a heap on the floor by his desk.
He stared down at it, too. “I didn’t want to move it. I didn’t ever want to forget that night because what if you never showed up here? What if this was all I had to remember?”
Alex ran her fingers along the note that Danya had written. Those simple words stretched from the page and reached out to her. They wrapped themselves around her heart.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked.
“I know.” He lifted himself to sit on the desk.
Over his shoulder, a photo of Chase and Jonas caught Alex’s attention. They held up fishing rods on their family boat. It must have been late summer considering their deep brown tans and sun-scorched hair.
“His pictures are bigger than they used to be. I guess that means I’m thinking about him.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
Chase placed his hands on Alex’s waist and pulled her to him. “When we were at the haunted house, I asked Gabe about this feeling I had. I knew Jonas was nearby. I get it with all my brothers. It’s nowhere near as strong as what we do.” He drew an invisible line between her head and his with his free hand. “But it’s there. I wish it wasn’t because I’m guessing that was the day he came to find you and didn’t bother visiting us.”
Alex thought of a way to ease his worry. “Do you want to try to find Jonas right now? We don’t have to stay long. You can … we can … you know.”
“You mean meditate again?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know. Last time my head hurt for like a week.”
“We make sure that we only stay for a minute.”
A dimple struck his cheek as one corner of his pink mouth lifted. “Are you suggesting we do this because you’re nervous to be in here with me?”
It shouldn’t be a big deal. They slept side by side so many times but as children with Popsicles staining their faces or marshmallows from the fire pit stuck in their hair. And sure, lately he wandered in to her room at some time during in the night, but there was something so intimate to Alex about tucking herself under his arm for the entire night. In his bed. Lying against him while she was still conscious and aware of the setting. His brothers would look at them differently, knowing the arrangements, whether they were sleeping or not. In life, Alex always thought those couples stuck out when they had that closeness. You could see the secret hiding in the space between them, or lack thereof, an affection that bound them, separating them from everybody else.
Chase kept his head low. “We already have that, Alex.”
She should have known that he’d hear her thoughts. “I know.”
“Let’s try to see if we can find Jonas. It won’t take us more than a few minutes. Then we’ll come back.”
“Anything weird, we get out.”
“Agreed.”
This time, it wasn’t as alarming to fall away from reality. They walked the same path as before.
“Why are we in Parrish?”
“I’m beginning to think that we’re obsessed with it.”
“Or it’s obsessed with us.” Alex felt something odd stirring within her. In life, anticipation felt like trying to breathe with a barbell on her chest. This sensation struck her when they reached Thea Frank’s house. Chase suddenly ran forward, yanking her along.
She blinked, and they stood in Thea Frank’s blurry living room yet again.
Jonas was the only clear figure in the room. He looked worse for wear. Strands of long hair fell over his face as he leaned over the table separating him from Thea, who puckered her bright red lips.
Her image, though more visible than the last time, still seemed like a colored pencil sketch. “Your past begins much earlier than your date of birth.”
Jonas groaned. “No more riddles. Spirits really love to beat around the bush, and I’m sick of it.”
Footsteps erupted from down the hall, and the form of Liv appeared. “You’re still here?”
“Shut up, Liv.” Jonas took a seat on Thea’s desk. “What were you doing back there?”
“Practicing some of the things my grandmother’s been trying to teach me.”
Their voices are too clear, Chase said. Is your head hurting?
It was pounding, but Alex wanted to hear more.
Jonas crossed his arms. “What sort of things?”
“Why do you care?” Liv asked.
“The gifted are breaking into spirited cities.” He glanced from Liv to Thea. “Judging by the looks on your faces right now, you hadn’t heard.”
Of Delicate Pieces Page 22
