“Stop it,” he said. His voice was so harsh it shocked her. “I don’t want you to look at me like that. Yes, it might be dangerous. It has to be done anyhow.” He turned away.
Bewildered hurt flowed through her and she stared at his back. “Fine.”
“I’ll call you or AT with what I discover tomorrow—actually, later today. Try to get some rest while the kaiju is still distracting the angel.”
She watched him walk away, and then busied herself convincing the girls to lie down and rest. Lissa wanted to take Neath out and play with her, and refused to understand that wasn’t possible. The volunteers at the evacuation shelter were overlooking very small pets, as long as they were contained, and Neath herself showed no interest in crawling out of her box. Marley had prodded her all over and she didn’t seem injured from her encounter with the kaiju, just worn out.
AT slouched over, dog-free. “The dogs are around,” she said, when Marley raised her eyebrows. She looked tousled and cranky. “I heard the big guy found you anyhow. I’m sorry. Not really sure why Corbin asked me to come over, given how little help I’ve been so far.”
Marley bit her lip. “I appreciate your company.”
“Yeah. Did Corbin take off already? Wow, he must really be confident.” AT looked around.
“I think he was angry, actually,” Marley said. “Although I don't know what he had to be angry about.”
“You sound angry. Did you two fight?” AT’s mouth tugged down into a frown.
Marley looked away. “I’m going to take a look at this book Corbin and Kari decoded. We’re hoping it will have some kind of useful information.”
AT shrugged, and stretched out on a cot, propping herself onto her side and pulling out her cellphone. She began tapping at the screen, apparently prepared to entertain herself.
Marley settled onto her own cot. A wave of exhaustion crashed over her, and she wondered what time it was. The middle of the night? Had it only been three days since the twins called her? It felt so much longer. One day she was a marginally employed, depressed, anxiety-ridden writer; the next, she was protecting strange little girls from the angel who wanted to claim them and kill her. Kill her and all the other part-angels, which she happened to be.
Even reviewing the terror and weirdness of the last few days didn’t decrease Marley’s vast desire to sleep. But she couldn’t give in yet, not when there was the mysterious book to read. She'd had plenty of sleep in the past few days. She could cope a little longer.
She thumbed through the book. It was a diary, undated but with stars and moons doodled between the entries. The entries that remained were on lined paper. But in many places, the diary was blotched by emptiness. Both writing and lines had faded away, leaving only naked white paper behind.
A quick preliminary flip-through confirmed that the diary seemed to be written by a teenage girl, and primarily documented her experiences with some boys. Marley was reminded of Penny, at first, until she caught a phrase: “the nameless man.” She flipped back to the beginning. It was blank. She carefully turned pages until she found the first patch of remaining text.
I saw another strange man today. But he wasn't as creepy as the nameless man. This time, I knew his name, but he didn’t. He was looking around like he was lost, and he was very pretty, so I stopped to see if I could help him out. He told me he was looking for somebody but couldn’t remember who, or how he got there. He didn’t have a wallet or any kind of identification, so I walked him over to the Westgate Shopping Center lost and found. I almost told them his name but I decided that would probably get me into more trouble than it would help him. I hope he’s all right. I've already nicknamed him Cat.
The next page was there, too.
The stray Cat was exactly where I found him yesterday today. Same clothes, same pose, everything. Creepy déjà vu at first, but then he saw me and smiled. Ashley was with me today and she squealed and giggled and told me I didn’t say he was so hot. Well, no, not in so many words, it’s not like she needs encouragement.
Anyhow, the Cat told me he thought I could be a lot more helpful than the people at the lost and found. “There’s just something about you,” he said. Uh huh. Right.
That’s when I called him Cat. It's actually part of his name. He didn’t react like somebody who’d been faking forgetting his own name, though. So I took pity on him and asked him what he did remember.
He said he remembered a man who had stolen something from him. He had to find that man again in order to get back whatever he’d lost. The man’s face was burned into his memory. Ashley loaned him her art pad and a pencil, and he sketched a picture.
He was a very good artist. I did know the face. It was the nameless man from the other da
And that entry abruptly ended. Marley glanced over to where Kari lay curled on her side. She was watching Marley sleepily. Marley found a small smile for the little girl. “Go to sleep.”
“Sorry I was nasty,” Kari whispered. She sighed. “I want Uncle Zach back. I don’t like all this.”
“We’ll get through this together,” Marley said. She was very aware that it wasn’t the same as “we’ll find him” or “he’ll be back soon,” and she suspected Kari knew it. But the little girl just sighed again and closed her eyes.
Marley bit her lip and turned her attention back to the book.
I looked up Cat’s full name on the internet. I didn’t find anything reliable.
We ended up spending the day together. He’s so full of... joy. I told him that and he said he wasn’t, except around me. He says he’s lonely and lost when I’m not around. He hates not knowing who he is. I thought again about telling him his name, but... I can’t. I’ve gotten into enough trouble over knowing names I shouldn’t know.
*
He moves like a dancer, but food confuses him. He really liked the pizza, though.
*
I can’t tell if he knows about kissing or not. I’m too nervous to find out!
*
I asked him today if he could just move on with his life. I really like him. But it’s like there’s a huge wound in him. He says he knows he’s not like the other people around us, and it hurts him to try. I do know what it’s like to be different from everybody else. We have that in common. It’s probably part of why we like each other. But I can’t even bring myself to tell him about Mother and why I think I’m different. I’m not ready for things to change yet.
*
Today I found myself at this strip mall I’d never been to before, with a grubby park behind it. I didn’t know why I went there at first, I was just wandering around and I felt this... emptiness sucking me in. I could hardly not follow it. HE was there. The nameless man. He was just walking around the building, stopping every so often to look at it. I went quietly over to the park and sat on a swing. I was kind of scared... ok, I was really scared, but I couldn’t think of a REASON, one that made sense, to be scared. Just because I didn’t know his name, or he was able to trick my name-sense before... and just because Cat was looking for him...
He looked like he was the same age as Cat, maybe 20. They almost looked like brothers, both tall and slender. He was scary but he just didn’t seem DANGEROUS. I didn’t worry that he was going to grab me and throw me in a van, or chase me down. He had this purposefully casual style, you know, with a sloppy tie and a rumpled shirt? But his sleeves were rolled up neatly.
He walked around the building touching it here and there, and then stepped backward into the park. Then he turned and looked at me. He just... looked at me for a while. At first I tried to pretend I wasn’t looking at him but that was pretty stupid, so I stopped. It really bothered me that I didn’t know his name, so much that I almost asked him what it was. But I hated the thought of giving in like that. Eventually, he walked close enough to talk to me. He said, “The blond guy you’ve been hanging around with... you should stay away from him. He’ll hurt you when he remembers his name again.”
Who the hell was he to
tell me who to hang around with? That must have shown up on my face, because he kind of shrugged and turned away. So I said, “I know his name already.”
He turned back again and looked me over, just like he’d been inspecting the building. Then he asked, “Why haven’t your people taken care of you?” I had no idea how to answer that, and it was pretty clear he wasn’t actually talking to me, either, no more than he’d talked to the building.
I had to say something, so I said, “What do you know about my people?” What did “my people” mean, anyway? Only then it occurred to me that maybe he knew my mom.
But he said, “I know your blond friend doesn’t like them very much.”
I decided to attack. “Don’t YOU know his name?”
He laughed. “Oh yes. I’ve got it here, safe and sound.” He tapped his head, and then crossed his arms, looking at me like I was a zoo exhibit again. I was starting to think he WAS dangerous in the normal ways, and if he got any closer I was running for the stores.
But I wasn’t done asking questions, as long as he stayed away. “So you did do something to him! Why?” I can’t believe I asked “why” instead of “what.” But that’s what I asked and that’s what he answered. He said, “He would have gotten in my way. I’m investigating something interesting.” He trailed off, like he was thinking about something else. “In any case, what I did won’t last. You’d best not be around him when he remembers who he is.” And then he just turned around and walked away.
I decided not to tell Cat about this. I wouldn’t be telling him anything he didn’t already know, except that he might not like me when he remembers himself. And I want to think about it for a while. I’m afraid of exactly what that guy said. But surely if he was cruel or violent, it would show up even now, wouldn’t it?
There was half of an entry, faded at the top, talking about one of the diarist’s female friends and her sexual misadventures, and then another entry that was just one line:
Cat likes kissing.
Marley stopped reading the diary long enough to put her head in her hands. She wanted to reach into the past and shake the writer. She flipped to the end of the diary, which was, unsurprisingly, blank. Had it been blank before? She couldn’t remember. She thought about asking AT to read the diary instead; the writer was probably a nephil just like Marley, forgotten and overlooked by her own people. But she had no idea what to make of the amnesiac Cat, except that making out with him seemed like a bad idea.
I’m careful. I’m watching him. I really, really like him. He’s sweet and gentle and noble. He always wants to do the right thing. He’s been protective of me but he trusts me, too. He really trusts me. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
Cat quit his job today because they wanted him to ignore some kind of underhanded deal. He just couldn’t do it. But then he got another one almost right away. He’s just so damn pretty. He likes this one more because it lets him move around and look for the nameless guy. That guy must be hiding somehow. I’ve tried looking for him again, too, and I haven’t been able to find the same hole in the namespace that led me to him before.
*
My house has rats. My aunt finally got fed up and put traps down recently. One of the traps had a baby rat in it today. I was really depressed about this when I saw Cat. Apparently he’s just like his namesake, because while he was nice, he wasn’t very sympathetic. He PRAISED me for being so COMPASSIONATE but he said it had to be done, if the rats were damaging the house. That made me cranky, even though I guess he’s right. He tried to distract me by kissing my neck, but I wasn’t in the mood.
There was a big drawing of a rose on the next page, and several rows of the entry-break doodles before another entry, and then several blank pages. Marley wondered how much time was passing between entries. There were a few brief notes about the diarist’s friends. Cat admitted he had a job only so he could stay near the diarist and do nice things with her. It was so sweet that Marley felt uncomfortable reading it.
Finally, she came to another long entry, only marred by the fading at the top. It was the last one in the book.
I hope the nameless man was wrong. I have to do it now, or else I think I’ve lost my Cat.
It’s my own fault. We were making out and at one point I was so unfocused I said a larger part of his name. And I never thought it would get the reaction it did. He jumped away from me and started looking around like he’d never seen his own room before. At first he seemed terrified, then angry. He said he remembered more now. Not everything, not where he’d come from. But that he was a”justice-keeper,” and the man he was chasing was a criminal. He wasn’t human, but he was a protector of humans. Then he started treating me like I was a criminal too. He accused me of collaborating with the nameless man. Of seducing him and keeping him distracted and tangled in whatever the nameless man had done to him. I tried to tell him he was wrong. But I DID keep his name from him. How could I know it would have such an effect? I tried to explain. I just wanted to be close to him. But he left.
I’ve been crying all night. Is he right? Did I sabotage him on purpose? I didn’t think it would matter. Even when I wasn’t scared of telling him my secrets anymore, I didn’t know how to start. “Oh, by the way, I’ve known your name since I first laid eyes on you but I haven’t told you.” What excuse could I possibly have?
But I think I love him. Or at least, I love who he was before I screwed up. This is what I was afraid would happen. That he’d remember who he was and then he wouldn’t like me anymore. I wanted him to be happy, and he WAS happy with me, I’m sure of it. And surely who he was WITHOUT all his memories is who he REALLY is, right? So that person will still be there, even when he remembers everything, even if it’s buried underneath everything else? If he loves me, he’ll love me even afterward. It won’t just go away... it can’t just go away. That’s not how love works.
But right now he sees me as the bad guy, and I deserve it. From his perspective I AM the bad guy. I had information he needed and I kept it from him. But I STILL have information he wants. I only whispered part of his name and he only got back part of his memory. So if I tell him the rest, he’ll remember everything. And I’ll prove to him that I’m on his side. And then even if we can’t be together, he’ll know I love him. So I’m going to go find him and tell him. And if that doesn’t work out, at least something good has been returned to the world.
Here I go. I hope you can forgive me, Akaterin Ettoriel.
-twenty-four-
And there it was. Marley was certain that the narrator was the twins’ mother. What Corbin had said about the connection between the writer and the decoder, the journal itself, and what the twins had said about their mother being “gone” but not dead—it all made sense. Marley could all too easily see a teenager in trouble abandoning her newborns with a friendly face. It had happened to her, after all.
That Ettoriel was their father, she was less certain about. If he had claimed paternity from the start, Marley would have felt a lot less confident about keeping them from him in Zachariah’s absence. That he didn’t seemed significant. But perhaps he didn't know?
Marley flipped through the pages again. Even if he was the father, she knew he wanted the twins for grim reasons. If he wasn’t the father, what was the point of drawing her attention to this book, and why had it been encoded? She wondered how the story had ended. Had the girl—she thought she remembered Zachariah referring to the twins’ mother as “Nina” once—had Nina been pregnant when she’d gone to talk to Ettoriel at the end? Had they even had sex? Blasted, cursed vague writing. Or perhaps the significant details had been in the empty pages. There was something ominous and horrifying about the way the diary ended.
With such thoughts, without entirely noticing, Marley fell asleep. She was only vaguely aware of AT taking her shoes off and Neath jumping on her chest. Then she was aware of nothing at all.
With a shock like waking, the fairy Tinker Chime squirmed his way through a wall. Marley held Neath
in her arms, sitting cross-legged on the canopied bed.
“I don’t like this anymore than you do,” said the fairy. Neath hissed, and Tinker Chime flapped his tiny hand at her dismissively.
“Are you real?” Marley asked. “Why do I only dream about you? It’s very hard to take you seriously when you only show up when I’m asleep.”
“You wouldn’t like it if we showed up for real. But that doesn’t matter! What matters is that without you, we’re going to lose everything.”
“Even if I agreed to help you, what could I do from inside a dream?” Neath kneaded her lap, purring unhappily.
The fairy grinned. “You’d be surprised at what can be accomplished within dreams. We’ve found a weapon for you to use against the Dark Lord and it's so poetic—”
“Dark Lord. Is this the first time you’ve mentioned a Dark Lord? Before it was just about peril and your People In Need.”
“What did you think we needed rescuing from? A bad case of bellyaches? The Dark Lord, not content with taking everything from us, now enslaves my people. Day and night we toil under his whip. It took all of my people’s remaining power to send me to you. And you’ve kept me waiting so long.”
Marley narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you just go to somebody else?”
“No one else can do it! I was sent to you. If there was a mistake—and oh, I’d love to believe there was a mistake—I’m stuck with it now.”
“That attitude isn’t making you any friends, you know. Are you really a fairy? I’ve heard something about fairies—or maybe fae—lately...” Marley tried to remember. The waking world seemed like the dream now.
The fairy watched her with bright eyes. At last Marley said, “The kids talk about fairies a lot. Corbin mentioned them, too. Something about a Covenant...? Do you know anything about that?”
Matchbox Girls Page 17
