“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d had enough oxygen at birth, Alec?”
“Hey, Seth, by the way, the zoo called, the baboons want their butts back, so you’ll have to find another face.”
“Wow, really, Alec? I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and poop a better insult than that.”
“Johnathan, speaking of faces, ya’ know what I like about your face?” Alec asked.
Johnathan shook his head.
“Yah, me neither.”
“Alec, I’m not gonna get into a battle of wits with you, I never attack anyone who’s unarmed,” Johnathan retorted.
That cracked me up—in a silent, wheezing sort of way.
“Ah, Johnny, I was just kiddin’. You’re lucky to have been born beautiful, unlike me, who was born to be a big liar.”
Johnathan rolled his eyes. He did have a half smile on his worried face—for which I was grateful to Alec and Seth, even though they were both dorks.
“I don’t ever think I could learn to like you, Alec,” Seth said. “Except maybe on a deserted island—with no other provisions in sight.”
“Seth, I really admire you ‘cause it’s been said that what you don’t know, can’t hurt you—and that means you’re invincible!” Alec laughed hard at his own wit. The rest of us laughed at him laughing at himself.
The two of them traded barbs the rest of the way to Frink Park. I stopped keeping track of their awesome mental powers when I became lost in thought; making seriously scary plans for the next week.
There were a few people milling around the park. Luckily this wasn’t a very popular park. I think few people even knew about it. We went back to the fire-pit area where we’d been last time and began setting up wards of silence and concealment. This took some time; we’d hurried it last time out of necessity and probably weren’t as protected as we should’ve been.
We had about an hour and a half before sunset. Alec started a fire in the pit while I drew the containment circle with chalk on the cement. The atmosphere was subdued as we sat around the fire and roasted marshmallows on small limbs Seth cut from surrounding trees. Even the two barbsters couldn’t improve the mood. We mostly sat in silence and burned more marshmallows than we ate.
Johnathan became agitated as the moonrise-sunset approached. He couldn’t sit still; he paced back and forth in front of the fire. When he started to make little growling noises under his breath I said, “I think it’s time, John. Let’s bind your hands and then I’ll close you in the circle.”
For just an instant his eyes flashed yellow and his muscles tensed like he was going to bolt—Johnathan and The Wolf were battling for control. Johnathan won out—this time—because he stepped over to where Seth held the roll of duct tape and submitted his hands to him.
“I think we should tape them with your palms together, prayer style. Any other way and I’m afraid when your … when the … the claws pop out they might do some damage to your hands,” Seth said. He was having trouble looking his friend and leader in the eyes.
“Whatever,” Johnathan mumbled.
Seth wrapped Johnathan’s hands together from fingertips to halfway up his forearms with several layers of duct tape. Alec—surprisingly silent—stepped up and touched the tape that encircled Johnathan’s hands. He looked up at Johnathan for a second before closing his eyes and bowing his head in concentration. He muttered some words I couldn’t quite make out while Johnathan stared up into the cloudy sky.
Nothing noticeable changed about the tape. Alec tested it by finding the end and pulling softly at first, and then with much of his considerable strength. The binding didn’t budge. Alec smiled as he stepped back. “You test it now, Johnny,” he said.
Johnathan tried to pull his hands apart, they stuck fast.
Halli and I stood. We were cutting it a little closer than I’d wanted to and his agitation was increasing by the minute. I could see the muscles under his skin rippling. “Step into the circle, Johnathan,” I whispered. He slipped his shoes off, not wanting to walk home bare-footed again.
He gazed longingly at the open trail leading into the woods. He shook his head, squared his shoulders, and stepped into the circle. Halli joined me on the opposite side of the circle from where I stood. I pricked my finger and wiped the drop of blood that formed there onto the circle at my feet. Halli and I sent our will into it, urging the circle closed … but it didn’t close.
The sun disappeared and a small rim of white peeked up over the tree line, and Johnathan let out a half-howl, half-scream as he started to double over. He stepped outside the circle, then his hungry, golden eyes found mine, locking me in place.
I flashed back to the party … the wolf’s dripping fangs … the trees. I couldn’t move. Luckily, Seth could. He whipped out his channeling rod and pointed it at Johnathan.
“Immobile!” Seth shouted.
Johnathan became still as stone and fell to his back. I snapped out of my petrification and helped Seth and Alec drag his transforming body back into the circle. As we laid his writhing body on the ground I noticed that a stray clump of melted marshmallow had landed on one line of the circle—the flow of magic had been interrupted. I kicked at the marshmallow and redrew the circle quickly, knowing the immobile curse Seth had used wouldn’t last long. I re-pricked my finger, dripped more of my blood onto the circle and Halli and I joined forces to will it closed. The familiar snap resonated in the clearing, and Johnathan was trapped.
I never would have thought it possible, but this changing was worse than the first time, for me and for Johnathan. Me, because I kept flashing back to the drug-induced hallucinations I’d had just two nights prior. Johnathan, because the Wolf was even angrier this time. Binding his hands did prevent him from gouging himself, but it also made him freak out in a far more intense way.
He tore at the tape with his two-inch-long teeth, sometimes missing the tape and tearing into the skin of his forearms. Alec was surprised and more than a little proud of himself to find that not only did his binding spell keep the tape intact and Johnathan’s hands together, it also turned out to be impenetrable—even by werewolf teeth.
The werewolf slammed his head, shoulders, and body into the invisible barrier surrounding him; and pushed, pulled, bit, and stepped on his bound hands, trying to free them. A couple of hours into this nonstop aggression, a large cut opened on his left eyebrow after a particularly hard smack against the barrier. I’d been cowering as far from the circle as I could and still be within our protective wards, rocking back and forth with my arms wrapped around my knees, trying not to think about the horror of this night combined with the horror of the Sentience after-effects.
I was unable, however, to tear my eyes away from the wolf’s face, dripping with blood—part of me was able to process that somewhere inside the terrible monster was Johnathan. And I love Johnathan. So when the blood started pouring down the matted fur of his muzzled face, I was transfixed. Even more so when I noticed the wound was rapidly healing, as if an invisible surgeon was knitting the skin back together. Within a matter of minutes, where the gaping laceration had been, was just a pink line of newly healed skin partially obscured by clumps of bloody fur.
The night dragged on. I couldn’t bear to watch, yet my gaze kept returning to the torture within the circle. Halli tried her best to distract me, to get me to rest. I couldn’t. She gave up after a while and just sat beside me, offering her silent support. I’m sure she and the others were feeling anguish, too—just not as strong as me. After all, he was the boy I loved … and I still blamed myself for what had happened to him. I forced my thoughts away from the scene playing out before me.
I silently made plans for how and when I would summon a Demon. I knew exactly which one I would summon. The only one whose name I knew. If only I’d questioned the Faerie that brought the monster-changeling into our midst before I’d sent her back to the Netherworld. I should have been summoning her. Or, trying to summon—I had no idea if I was strong enoug
h. I pushed those thoughts from my mind.
I will admit, the thought of what I had to do was terrifying. If there was any other way I could think of to get the information I needed, I would do it. The fact was, I was running out of time—I would not let Johnathan suffer through this again.
I worried about what the Demon would ask in return for answers I was seeking—all the time knowing I would give him whatever he asked. I worried about being unable to contain him in a circle—thus, allowing him to roam free on our plane, wreaking havoc on any humans he was to come in contact with. I also worried that Johnathan or I would not survive the attempt to remove the curse. If so, I selfishly hoped it was me and not him that didn’t survive.
Those were the thoughts that went through my mind all during the dismal night; Johnathan’s howls and the sound of his body slamming into the circle made for the perfect horror background noise to play along with the scenarios and dread that floated through my head.
Just as I began lamenting about this seemingly endless night, I looked to the east and saw just an inkling of yellow shining through the trees. I looked back at the Wolf and held my breath as he appeared to calm a tad. Then, a tad bit more. By the time the sun—still not above the tree line—brightened enough to scare away the moon, the Wolf was transforming back into Johnathan. The process looked and sounded extremely painful. I heard his bones and joints snapping in and out of place; watched his muscles and skin stretch far beyond what should have been possible without breaking. I covered my ears so I couldn’t hear his bones cracking or the sounds of his groans.
But I kept watching. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the transformation. The changing was awful, horrible and nearly mind-destroying to watch. But I couldn’t stop.
Soon, it was over. Johnathan lay trembling inside the circle, shirt ripped to shreds, basketball shorts thankfully intact.
“Let’s go let him out,” I whispered to Halli.
With a surge of will from us, the circle was broken. I knelt close to him, and as much as I wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him, I knew that was a monumentally bad idea. He lifted his head in slow motion. He avoided my gaze and that of our friends; shame and embarrassment apparent on his face.
“Come on, Johnathan. Let’s get that tape off your hands,” Alec said, all the teasing of the evening before gone from his voice.
Johnathan held his hands out in Alec’s direction, resting his elbows on his knees, head bowed to rest on his arms. Alec removed the binding spell, then unwound the tape from his friend’s hands and arms with more gentleness than could be expected from any teenage boy in this universe or any other. I must admit my perception of Alec changed just a little in that moment—I felt a warmth in my heart for him much stronger than the friendship we’d built on a foundation of amusement and battling of foes together. I would never tell him that, though.
“Okay, Johnny Boy, all done,” he said with teasing gentleness.
Johnathan sat there for a few minutes, his forehead still resting on his arms, his exhausted limbs trembling. When he lifted his head with a look of weariness I’d never seen before, I found the thin, pink scar cutting through the tail-end of his left eyebrow where a deep gash had been just hours before. His beautiful, dark, curly hair was a mass of dried blood and sweat. His normally tan skin was flushed red—I felt heat radiating off him even though I kept a safe distance of two or three feet from him.
Oh, man, it was hard to keep from reaching out to touch him. I rocked back and forth on my knees, the anxiety taking over. Johnathan looked at me, finally, and surprised me by reaching over and touching my face. He’d reached over to wipe the tears from my cheek. Tears I hadn’t even realized were there.
I brushed at my face with both hands and felt a small rush of anger that while he could touch me whenever he wanted, I had to deny my instincts to comfort him. Irrational, I know, but nonetheless there.
“Paige, I’m sorry …” he started to say.
“Not. Your. Fault.” I said in a harsh whisper. This is my fault, not yours. I wiped at my face again.
“We should start for home before all the morning commuters come out,” Seth said, handing Johnathan his shoes.
Johnathan slipped them on and stood slowly, bones crackling. He pulled off his tattered, bloody shirt and replaced it with one Halli handed him.
The trek home was long, our feet splashed in puddles becoming larger by the minute thanks to the downpour that had started shortly after we left. We were all ready to collapse from our second night out of three with little or no sleep—and Johnathan more than the rest of us. His muscles continued to spasm every so often, and, even though he tried hard to hide it, I saw a painful grimace on his face each time.
Halli came up beside me. “Won’t it be suspicious that all four of you miss school today?”
I just shrugged. It didn’t matter. I doubted anyone would notice. Well, maybe Brendon and Mr. Grewa would. And Mr. Jorgenson. He seemed to notice a lot when it came to me. It still didn’t matter; there was no way any of us could go. It would be stupid to try—if something crazy was going to break loose, we would all be too tired to deal with it anyway.
The warmth of our dark Underground haven was a welcome thing. Seth led the way, his channeling rod shining with a luminosity spell—the same spell we used to light the old lamps with down in our living quarters. The glow it emitted was a little bit blue-tinged, but otherwise looked almost like fluorescent lighting.
My bed was a welcome sight. I took only enough time to change into dry clothes before I crawled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep.
one of us stirred the entire day. We all awoke in the late afternoon to noises in the room above us. It sounded like footsteps, only … louder. Like a dinosaur had been resurrected and was not happy about it, and was taking it out on the building above us.
We congregated at once in the common area. The huge rafters that had seemed so sturdy when we moved there were creaking like the planks of a ship caught in a gigantic whirlpool. Plaster chips fell from the ceiling. Small at first, and then larger. One the size of an open history book fell onto a table in the center of the room.
“What the he … heck is up there?” Alec asked.
“I’m afraid we’re going to find out one way or another real soon,” Johnathan said. “I’m thinking we’d better go up and see before whatever it is ends up down here with us.” As if to accentuate his point, a massive foot broke through the plaster on the other side of the room, across from the stairs. This foot was the size of a couch—a big one that, like, four people could sit on. It was bare except for a mass of hair and years of dirt and grime buildup.
We looked at each other, but no one moved for a full three seconds, then we all ran for our belts and channeling rods. The boys were quicker because their stuff was closer; mine was back in our room, as was Halli’s. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, they were at the top, disarming the wards and unlocking the padlocks. We caught up to them just as they opened the door.
The owner of the giant foot was still trying to wrangle said foot from the floor/ceiling, and not being quiet about the process. The stench that poured off the filthy, sweaty creature was a truly disgusting aroma reminiscent of rotting flesh and chicken poop.
Back to us, deep roars of frustration escaped its throat.
“What is that thing?” Halli whispered.
“I believe it’s an Ogre,” Seth whispered back.
“Hmm. Doesn’t look anything like Shrek,” Alec sounded so disappointed.
The Ogre’s biggest problem was that it was so tall. If it could have stood up straight, it would’ve had better leverage for a bigger tug. Frustration took over and it started to pound on the floor with a crudely made club as big as Halli, maybe bigger. We sneaked closer while it was still occupied and unaware of our presence. That didn’t last long. The giant foot popped free with the breaking of a board or two and the Ogre slammed the club down with a triumphant roar.
T
hat’s when it saw Halli off to the side. Good thing she could move somewhere between the speed of sound and the speed of light. The Ogre whipped the club around, amazingly fast for its size, and was denied the pleasure of cracking open her skull by the width of a few hairs. She somersaulted away, landing on her feet a couple yards out of the club’s reach.
The five of us spread out equal distances apart, far enough away that it couldn’t hit any of us without taking a step. Rotating in a slow circle, the monster looked at each of us in turn. I got the feeling that Ogres weren’t very smart—the slack-jawed look, drooling spittle, and inarticulate grunting were clues. Apparently deciding Johnathan was the biggest threat, it raised the massive club and took a hunched step toward him. Bent almost ninety degrees at the waist, its back dragged on the ceiling.
“Argh, shtoopud hooman childs!” the Ogre roared.
Johnathan dodged the blow with little effort, and while the Ogre was occupied with him, the rest of us went into motion.
“Giant formation!” I yelled. This was a tactic we’d practiced many times since barely surviving our first contact with a large and ugly Troll. Trolls were faster and smarter than Ogres, which was becoming more and more apparent, so I figured we could easily out-maneuver this dumb Ogre—especially in such a confined space.
Halli and I moved behind the monster, with Alec and Seth on either side. Its focus remained on Johnathan, who kept it occupied with quick little attacks at its feet.
I watched closely, as did Halli, for the Ogre’s next move forward. Johnathan, seeing we were in position, provoked the monster by shooting a searing blue flame at a bare big toe. The Ogre let out a deep, angry yowl, smacked its head on the ceiling, and started to take a huge shuffling step toward Johnathan. That was the cue for Halli and me to attack. We simultaneously pointed our channeling rods at the enormous ankles and yelled, “Tangle pedicus.” The plan worked great—all except for one thing. The massive Ogre did, indeed, trip over our spell—which was exactly our intent. But as it tripped, the arm that wasn’t holding the club stretched out and pinned Johnathan beneath giant fingers.
Five: Out of the Dark Page 17
