by Krystal Wade
“Just keeps getting weirder.”
“Well, I meant what I said. No matter what her emotion is. Think about it: you guys have been through hell in the last few days. Her mind isn’t right.”
But she didn’t trust me. Abby didn’t believe that I’d always be there to take care of her. I either broke her faith in me when I disappeared, or she never loved me as much as I thought she did. Neither situation left me happy.
“You have a computer I can use?”
“Nice change of subject.” Will took off toward the doors. “I didn’t have time to grab a laptop, but we have a couple computers in the control room. Come on.”
I followed him through the cabin, glad I didn’t have to look at Abby or see anyone else, and through the black sliding doors.
“Will.” An older man turned and tipped his head toward us. “Who’s your friend?”
Will led me to the far left-end of the room and pointed to a chair in front of a screen built into a huge dashboard. “Harvey, this is Derick. Derick, Harvey.”
“Nice to meet you, Derick.” Harvey meandered over, hands behind his back. “May I ask why you’ve brought your friend in here, Will? This is rare.”
I took a seat before I lost my chance. “Where’s the keyboard?”
Pushing in a section of wood that blended into the rest of the dash, Will smiled at Harvey. “Derick here has a little addiction to video games.”
“You’re not suggesting. No way, Will. You’re not installing some shoot-em-up bloody game on this ship.”
“Harvey, this is a matter of life and death. Trust me.” He leaned in, hand cupped over his mouth. “He might go crazy if he doesn’t get his fix, if you know what I mean. Just let him play for a while, okay? Would hate to have a man overboard.”
A thousand other ways for me to use this computer existed. A thousand other ways that didn’t involve an adult questioning my sanity. But that was the story, so I typed furiously on the keyboard, searching for the site my dad told me about: Dark Swords.
“Yes! I found it.” I grinned up at Harvey, who shook his head and walked back to his controls while muttering obscenities. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Well, I’ll let you get to your role-playing crap.” He slapped my shoulder, laughing. “I’m going to see about getting some grub. Want anything?”
I waved him off. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Kids.” Will snorted as he left me alone with Harvey.
The poor man kept his eyes straight out the window. Will made us as uncomfortable as he could. Great. The guy enjoyed getting a rise out of me, had ever since I bailed the 400-meter dash to slip beside the bleachers and push him off Abby. I’d do my best not to give him the satisfaction again. Something lurked under the surface of all that spoiled brattiness and careless indifference he’d revealed to me since eighth grade, something that said Will Banaan wanted more than the life his father had planned for him. Hopefully, Abby and I wouldn’t be the ones to take that away. Hopefully, he’d get what he was looking for.
“Don’t you have a game to play?” Harvey asked, narrowing his eyes. “Or did Will bring you in here to play some prank on me?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Shaking my head, I focused on the keyboard as I typed. I never was very good at more than pecking out each letter slowly. “Lost in thought.”
“Ahh.” Harvey nodded. “I feared someone with an intense need to play video games wouldn’t have thoughts, but I see I was wrong. Carry on.”
I should have used invisibility or figured out a way to Romance this situation.
After I created a user name and logged into the game, I slowly ventured through a room constructed of thick cinder block. Torches hung from the crumbling walls. In the middle of the floor, green smoke rose from a black cauldron. The smoke enveloped me, traveling around in a perfectly circular formation. The substance had a face: big wide eyes, nostrils the size of soda cans, and long fangs.
A dragon?
“State your purpose.” The thing’s voice was hard, thick, and formal.
A cream-colored comment box flashed below the image. I typed in I wish to speak to my father, Adam Crawford. I have questions for him.
“We all have questions for our fathers, but why come here with those questions? There are other ways to reach him.”
This way is safest.
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” The beast wrapped around my avatar and pushed him out of the room and into the middle of a courtyard surrounded by two different walls. Deep, green ivy and trees larger than anything real life had to offer smothered one wall, while the other only boasted heavy armor—and damage from years of direct attack by what appeared to be cannons.
“You protect the Guardian. I smell her on you.”
Smell? How the hell could this thing smell?
Are you going to help me reach my father?
“Answer one question for me.”
Sure.
“Which door do you like better?”
Leaning closer to the screen, I stared at the images. The healthy wall, the one with ivy and trees and birds all around it… it looked like something I’d love to sit beside while reading a book. A door leading to a secret garden. But it didn’t look like a door that took a beating—or one that could withstand one.
I moved the mouse until my avatar faced the other wall. This thing appeared strong, tall, scary and dark and uninviting with its burned cinder blocks and metal prongs along the top, but something that could and had withstood years of abuse.
The black wall.
“Good answer, Derick Crawford. I shall connect you with your father now.” The green smoke picked up my avatar and carried me from one section of a map in the upper left corner of the computer screen, through hallways and alleys and into different maps, until we reached a floor plan of a place I knew instantly as home. “I hope we meet again.”
My avatar traveled from room to room through the house. The lights were off, and no sounds filtered from anywhere that would give me an indication as to where my parents might be. I climbed the stairs and opened their bedroom door and found them packing a suitcase. But they weren’t putting clothes in it. They filled it with knives, vials, handguns, and other odd things.
Dad?
They stopped and rushed to me. This was weird. I felt like my online self really searched my house and walked in on my parents. Maybe I did. Who knows?
“What’s going on, Derick? Why are you here? What’s happened?”
“He wants to know why.” Dad placed his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “He wants to know if Abby really loves him. He wants to know why Longboat. He wants to know why we didn’t tell him about the book’s abilities.”
Mom nodded. “And if we don’t give him something, he’ll make an incredibly stupid decision that destroys everything.”
Unreal.
Dad smiled. “She loves you, Derick. Don’t doubt that. She’s confused. Abby might even think some of her confusion is about you, but it’s not. You’ve felt it?”
Felt what?
“Love. It is a sensation like no other. Every time you fall deeper, spend more time being pure and young and happy, you will feel it in your chest.”
That’s not a warrior’s bond?
“No. Just a feeling.”
And it doesn’t mean we’ll share powers?
“Where are you getting this information from?”
The book.
They looked at each other, and Mom’s phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket, then answered.
“What? No. That’s not possible. How…?” Mom dropped to her knees and reached her free arm out to my dad.
What is it?
Dad fell next to her. “All I can read from her thoughts is that someone died.”
My heart nearly beat out of my chest. Who?
He shook his head. “You need to find Abby.”
Abigail
When Derick didn’t return from the ship’s deck, Megan took me deeper into the hull
of the yacht and guided me to a lavish bedroom complete with plush carpeting, a flat screen TV, and a leather sofa. She’d asked if I wanted to talk, but I didn’t. In fact, I locked myself away for hours and stared at the rich mahogany ceiling while the captain wasted time cruising up and down the coast of Florida.
Every now and then, shadows slipped under the door. Maybe one of the three of them came to check on me, then thought the better of it and left me alone.
How did I alienate the person I love? How was it possible to push away the one boy who stood by me through thick and thin, who ran away from home to keep me safe, to be with me?
Because you are meant for greater things, things he cannot understand.
Why did I choose that moment to look away from the ceiling? Oh, right, so History of Kalos could taunt me with its mindreading response, scrawling stupid words across the previously blank page.
I slammed the book closed and put a pillow over my head, breathing in the lingering scent of salty air mixed with fabric softener. Taking advice from an inanimate object not only confirmed I’d lost my mind, but it also proved to be stupid. Trusting my gut and the people around me was a lot more important than trusting words on a page, but if I marched outside this room and told Derick everything now, it would be too late. He’d still have no faith in me. As my warrior—or whatever—he’d still believe he wasn’t supposed to be with me. Since he walked through his front door, invisible, three months ago, keeping me safe remained at the top of his agenda.
Hypocrite.
Derick was a hypocrite.
Earlier today, I thought that title belonged to me. But he hid from me for three months because he wasn’t sure how I’d respond to the whole magical thing, because he was positive I wouldn’t believe him, because I wouldn’t trust him. The only reason he came back to me when he did was due to… jealousy. My date with Mark.
Derick had no reason to be so cruel to me out there in front of Megan and Will, or ever, and the bad attitude didn’t fit his character, just like me hiding things didn’t fit mine. All these problems started when we read History of Kalós. The book wanted me to keep a secret. The book wanted Derick to serve me, only.
The book wanted us to fight.
To break the Safe Zone.
Oh my God. I bolted upright in bed, the pillow tumbling down my lap, and picked up History of Kalós. It really was lying. “What do you want?”
Why ask my questions when the book seemed to have its own agenda, a goal no one else was aware of?
Nothing happened. No answers. No witty remarks.
Fine. “What am I supposed to do? What are these greater things I’m meant for?”
Guardians, masters of every inherent Kalóan power, are meant to protect the planes by opening and closing the doors. In less modern times, Original Guardians and Destroyers shared this responsibility, but in less modern times, there is less civility; the Original Guardians slaughtered all the Original Destroyers, shifting the balance between good and bad.
New information, but not exactly what I’d hoped for. And could I really believe anything? Why couldn’t the book just say ‘I’m using you and want you to open the planes?’
Opening the planes would release an evil unlike anything this world has ever seen. Fávlosi are prepared for this, but Kalóans are not.
I had to ignore the book and everything I’d learned from it. The history of my father. The history of Aedan. Of Boredas and Ruckus, and of me. How could I believe in something that writes itself without knowing how? How could I allow something to make me so afraid of being truthful with Derick? The only thing I could do now was apologize and explain all this to him, then leave the book behind.
I climbed out of bed and opened the door. Darkness blanketed the hall, except for little security lights casting jagged shadows along the lacquered walls. I slid my hand along them, using the solid wood for balance—not that I could even tell we were on the water—and direction. Halfway up the stairs, I noticed a dark figure coming toward me and stopped.
“Derick?” I couldn’t tell. From the small amount of light filtering in from the living room full of windows above, I knew this wasn’t Megan. This person was tall and lean and had short hair.
He flicked a switch, and when I saw Will, my heart sunk to my stomach.
“Not happy to see me?” He wore a half smile, curving up only one side of his face, meeting his eye. “It’s funny how the two of you respond when you see someone you’re not hoping to see.”
“I’m not happy—period—remember?” Ice filled my voice, matching the cold in my veins. I didn’t like how Will stood above with a happy gleam in his eyes, as if what Derick and I faced meant nothing, as if he could relate to having his entire world dumped on his head and thought we were being silly. Will couldn’t take anything seriously unless it was about him; that’s why I stopped talking to him for weeks after he tried to kiss me, so he’d get the point to leave me alone. He needed to get out of the way now. “Where is everyone?”
“Derick’s using one of the computers in the control room. Of course, when Harvey saw him download a game, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. But I assured him this game was a matter of life and death—”
“You did what? Why would you say something like that?” Did he want everyone to die? Did he want to die?
Will jumped down the last couple of steps between us, laughing. “Relax. When you tell an adult that a video game is a matter of life and death, they just think you’re a stupid teenager.”
Oh. “Can you take me to the control room? I need to talk to Derick.”
Will shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Strict orders from your warrior not to let the Guardian into the room. I’m on Abby duty, which I don’t mind.”
I stepped up, but Will blocked my exit, pressing his palms to the walls on either side of us, flexing his biceps.
“Come on. You know you want to use this little break from Derick to spend some alone time with me. It will be like old times, back when you still liked hanging out.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Will grinned like a fool. “So you’re saying there’s still a chance?”
“Cut the crap, Will.” What did the book say? Guardians are masters of every inherent power? If that much was true, then maybe that’s why the full symbol on the cover also sat by the names of the Guardians, and maybe that’s why only a piece was drawn by Aedan’s? If only I knew how to use those abilities, I could knock Will from my path. “You don’t understand. I have to apologize. I have to talk to him.”
“When are you going to learn that Abby loves Derick, Will?” Megan trotted down the stairs. “You’re being a dick.”
She grabbed my hand and dragged me up into the living room, where an assortment of foods lay scattered about the coffee table, leaving Will in on the stairs. “Hungry?”
No. I’m mad, ready to kick someone—why did Will have to keep hurting her? Why couldn’t he use cheesy lines on Megan, hit on her and make her squirm?—But I eyed the triangular sandwiches and plates of fruit, and my stomach growled. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“I argued with the kitchen staff until they agreed to make something a little different than what they’re used to. I wasn’t in the mood for salmon or anything that heavy.”
Distractions were amazing, and so was Megan. I knew she couldn’t care less about what she ate, but she was trying to make me feel better. Salmon was her favorite.
“It’s perfect, but I really do need to find Derick.”
“I’m sure he’ll come out here when he’s done. It’s not like he’s going to stay in there with the crew forever. Please eat with me?” She had this sweetness to her when she was sad, this gentle mask where her eyes looked through me and her brows curved toward her narrow nose, a look that even made the dimple in her chin more pronounced. None of this made her ugly, only more real, only closer to me. She had problems like the rest of us, no matter her upbringing—maybe because of it.
Refusing her would not help me, not now when I needed my friend so much. I nodded and took a seat at the head of the long, rectangular table.
A smile briefly radiated her face, but then she took a bite of an apple and frowned. “Will throws himself at you.”
“So stop sticking around and waiting for him.”
She shrugged. “Easier said than done.”
“You deserve better. You always have.” I popped a piece of juicy pineapple into my mouth. “Does he even know? Have you told him like you said you were going to?”
“Told who what?” Will asked, walking toward the table. He pulled out a chair next to me, and then he changed his mind and sat next to Megan.
We met eyes, and she nodded just slightly, confirming that he finally knew her feelings.
Jerk.
He slid in closer and elbowed her arm. “You okay? You look like you’re still in shock.”
I quickly lost my appetite and dropped my ham and cheese sandwich onto my plate. “Why are you taking this so well?”
“Maybe because I’ve always known my father enjoys dabbling with things darker, more powerful than him.” Will made a show of gripping an invisible sword and swung it around his head. “He’s killed before, maybe not with his own hands, but he’s had people do it for him, for money. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s involved with the mob, but I’m not about to play secret agent to find out.”
“Is that why you offered us protection last night?”
“Maybe.”
Megan tilted her head to the side, her eyes full of accusation. “You know all this for sure?”
“Not exactly ‘for sure’, but he’s left enough papers around that have made me quite positive he’s dirty.”
Megan started crying again, and Will put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. A warm embrace, one full of comfort and familiarity. She hugged him back, sobbing onto the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Maybe he did act differently near me. Maybe I made him flip the switch from so sweet toward her to totally horny, like he couldn’t help himself when I was around and forgot about how much he cared about the beautiful girl next to him. Otherwise, I don’t know why my friend would subject herself to the torture.
