by D. R. Perry
Fred was actually pretty talented, although most of the crowd paid more attention to his dropped glamour. That's right, he went full Redcap for his performance. He was tithed to the Queen and Seelie but still totally scary. Redcaps were absolutely the sort of thing people wanted to see on Halloween in Salem. They had sharp sharkish teeth, gray skin, blazing red eyes, and of course, bloody red hats on their heads. Totally spooky and awesome in this town.
He sang a set of classic covers, the Halloween-type novelty music people played at parties. You know what I'm talking about—the Monster Mash, Werewolves of London, that sort of thing—but it was different from those old recordings. Sort of like a Postmodern Jukebox version, with a big band sound and bluesy vocals. At first, I didn't know where the instrumentals came from.
Turned out, he had a full complement of Pixies backing him up. Their tiny instruments were the real deal, and they used magic for amplification. Pixies were pure faerie creatures like Grims, but water-based and Seelie—perfect for Salem with its coastal charm.
Once Fred and company finished their set, he knelt, letting the Pixies climb up on his shoulders and arms so they could bow where everyone could see them. The gesture went along with everything I'd heard about the Tinfoil Hat folks—that they were determined and powerful, but also kind.
He got a good response from the audience, plenty of cheering and whistling, along with applause. I was glad for him; he deserved no less. But of course, everyone was really there for Night Creatures, and that was exactly what we got, plus a little something extra.
They had Irina Kaczynski join them on electric violin for three covers in their set. She was an internet-famous psychic fiddler. These were the songs they’d played the second night of their competition when she’d subbed in. This time, however, the guitarist and electric violinist performed together.
Everyone went nuts behind us—in a good way, of course. The covers went over well, exactly the sort of performance people loved here on Halloween. Usually, bands stuck to covers or their most popular songs. And for Night Creatures, that meant the ones that weren't blatantly about vampire rights.
Lane Meyer pushed the boundaries of the formula. This band was punk, which meant all their songs were political somehow. Even with their more understated tracks, they made a statement that was hard to argue with, but someone in the crowd had a different idea.
I didn't see the person in the horrifying costume earlier. They hadn’t gotten passes like we had, but that didn’t stop them. Earth magic quaked the ground, jostling everyone on it and knocking down the ropes. After that, the magus using it strode forward, mask covering their entire face. I noticed they had a familiar, something on the ground. I couldn’t see it clearly in the dim light and commotion.
Riding the wave of the quake, a mound of earth lifted them above the rest of the crowd. This was some seriously powerful earth magic, stronger than I’d ever seen. Maybe it was because the autumn grass was thin in the Common, with more earth exposed. It let the magus manage something I’d never thought possible.
The quake rattled the bandstand.
Vampires had excellent reflexes, which was the only reason Lane and company were still standing. All the same, the drum set had toppled, and the bass drum had escaped its stand to roll around the stage. Irina fell backward, nearly cracking her head open on the marble. She would have been seriously injured if Fred hadn't gotten between her and the floor.
The magus on the mound didn't say a word. They didn't have to. Because they held an enormous sign. That and the costume made a blatant and ugly statement.
It was a vampire slayer’s garb, as terrifying to folks with fangs as an SS uniform would be to anyone in my family. For five years after the Reveal, a group most people called terrorists but some considered vigilantes had gone around dressed in hoods and masks, stakes strapped to their chests. Any vampire they met got staked and decapitated.
That still happened on occasion.
That was one reason this magus was downright terrifying, but there was another. The sign they staked into the earthen mound was painted with fake blood, the kind you get in a costume store. It said this:
Burn All Leeches
In the other hand, they held a Molotov cocktail. And lit it.
They chucked it at the stage, aiming directly for Lane Meyer, the frontman of Night Creatures. He didn't duck, but faced the threat head-on, a matched set of birds taking flight from his fists. There was nothing else he could have done to fend off the fire arcing toward his flammable undead body.
"Hit it!"
It was Fred's voice, so the band didn't start playing, but he was one of the queen's knights, able to command her creatures. The Pixies jumped up from the railing they'd been sitting on during the Night Creatures set. All ten waved their hands in unison, and a matching gout of salty water flew toward the projectile.
The seawater slapped the bottle, crashing it into the wooden stage on top of the bandstand. It must have been filled with a mixture of oil and alcohol because it didn't go out right away.
Lane tried to stand his ground, hissing, fangs protruding as his vampiric instincts responded to the threat of an open flame. I recognized it. It was a magical fire, but not one cast by any magus. It was made from infused chemicals like we’d used that day in the lab.
Was the magus in the costume from my school?
The idea stole my breath. The next one was worse. What if it was a professor? Fear paralyzed me, but someone with more experience at working through that emotion snapped me out of it.
Logan grabbed my hand again. He directed his own jet of water at the blaze on the stage, and I knew his unspoken request. He wanted my help to banish the fire in case even more water couldn't extinguish it. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the flames, and in moments, we’d put them out together.
"Security!" Fred Redford's voice roared from where he’d managed to sit up.
A group of burly figures clad in red ran out from the sides of the bandstand, dashing toward the costumed magus. As they turned, the back of their hood flipped up to reveal a ponytail. Before I could be sure of the hair’s color, the attacker dove into the crowd.
"One, two, three!" Lane growled into the mic.
Matt the guitarist picked up his instrument and shredded out a sick riff. I recognized it; they were playing Points, their most defiant song. The drummer and the bassist joined forces, building a scaffold for the rest of the music. When Lane added his voice, the entire performance was a clear and present act of resistance in the face of terror.
“Without a doubt, I knew it sucked that night
We'll never win, 'cause no one thinks we're right
We had to walk away, and give up all our plans
Why do I stop and turn around?
And every time I smile they walk away from me
A loser just because I'm fanged, you see
And I'm seen as a guy with blood-lust rage
Why am I stuck on this page?
Eternity spent in a cage.
What's the point again?”
Salem's extrahuman community had a long memory because this town was steeped in a history of persecution. The immigration of the last surviving Morgensterns back in the 20th century only reinforced the attitude that we couldn't afford to tolerate intolerance.
So of course, the crowd sided with the vamps that night. Deafening applause marked the end of the song. My ears rang, and Ember hid her head in my hair. As it finally died down, my friends huddled together, hearts racing with fading adrenaline.
"We’d better get back to the school right away." Faith's voice was flat and hollow. "I’d bet dollars to donuts that was my megabitch sister. The headmaster will hear about this from me first."
She startled every one of us except Hal, who squeezed her hand and smiled at her. The crowd mostly dispersed, many disappearing as we stood there trying to catch our breath. Noah even stayed, although Elanor vanished into the crowd. It was almost an apologetic gesture.
&n
bsp; I wasn’t sure whether Faith was right. Charity was definitely a bullying bigot, but in the cafeteria, she’d waited until I turned on the magic. So far, she hadn’t seemed like the sort who’d get her hands that dirty.
All the same, I hoped my brother would drop Charity like a hot potato the next day, but I didn't expect much. Courage didn't spring up fully formed overnight.
I'd hoped to meet more of my role models in person that night, but under the circumstances, I was relieved they left uninjured and safe, at least physically. They made their way to their bus under the park's municipal lighting. I watched them go, hoping that someday I'd have half their bravery.
Chapter Thirty-Five
After Halloween, everyone on campus talked about the incident at the Night Creatures concert. Almost every student had been on the Common that night, but nobody publicly speculated about who the magus behind the mask was. In private, things were different.
"I can't believe nobody agrees with me, that Charity must have done the attack." Faith crossed her arms over her chest, sticking her nose in the air. "Everyone knows my sister’s the wicked bitch of Park Avenue."
"Whoa, take it easy there." Dylan stepped back. He didn't like confrontation much, I'd come to realize. "I mean, we believe you. We’re your friends, and you know her better than anyone here. But if nobody saw anything, what can they do?"
"Well, they must think somebody here did it." Grace shrugged. "Nobody whispers this much all over campus if they don't suspect someone here."
"I’m totally sure it was Charity." Faith stomped her foot. "I have no proof, but I’m not alone. All her lackeys are walking on eggshells. They must think she did it but can’t figure out why they’re not in the headmaster’s office right now."
“Maybe they’re too scared. Or they agree with her.” Hal sighed. “But I don’t want to believe that.”
"What if she’s saying it's someone else?" I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I walked up to the elephant in the room and punched it right in its lousy trunk. "What if they suspect it's me?"
"Why would anyone think that?" Logan blinked. "You're not popular, but everyone knows you’re a good person."
"Everyone does not." Faith sighed. "I know how public opinion works, and people in the upper classes are not cool with Aliyah. No offense, but most students still judge you for the cafeteria and think you set the fire in the lab. Charity’s made a scapegoat out of you."
"I think Faith’s right." Hal nodded. "The blame game jives with what I read in Charity’s file. That masked magus attacked with a fire weapon, one that was hard to put out, like the lab. The attacker wore a mask and made that hill so people couldn’t judge their height, and the hill cut us off from the crowd, so nobody saw our friends put the fire out except the band. So yeah, maybe she's blaming Aliyah."
"We're doing something about it, then." Grace set her jaw. "She can't go around spreading rumors about one of the people who stopped the fire. That's just wrong."
"You're right." Faith nodded. "But when I went to Headmaster Hawkins on Halloween, he just took a statement. It wasn’t enough, my word alone against whatever she might have said."
"Maybe more of us need to go to him and make our own statements." Logan stood up. "It can't hurt."
Logan totally made sense, so that was what we did. All five of my friends from school went in separately to see the headmaster, even though they all had less proof than Faith. We had extra time now that nobody did Familiar Bonding anymore.
Tuesday went by, and Wednesday. Charity didn’t get in trouble, but neither did I. My friends all saw me putting out the fire, which meant Charity’s blame game couldn’t go any farther than the rumor mill.
That night at dinner, there was a series of posters on the walls, announcing an informal party in the lounge for Saturday. It was even fire-themed, something about a hearthside gathering. Charity was throwing it.
She’s trying another way to get you on probation. Or worse, expelled.
The evil inside voice had a point, so I decided to make myself scarce over the weekend. I told my roommate about it as I packed a knapsack before bed, but Grace didn't like that idea at all.
"Aliyah, you shouldn't leave. You're letting her win if you do." Grace paced the room, swinging her bathroom bag in one hand. “You should just go to her party and say it’s stupid, then go to the library or something.”
"But who knows what she'll try to pin on me if I stick around?" I leaned against the wall on the side of my bed. "If I'm not even on campus, all that happens is she threw a party I missed." I dropped my roommate a wink. "So, I’m going home."
"I guess you have a point." Grace sighed. “If that’s your plan, don’t stay too late.”
"I guess I can go early in the morning before breakfast." I patted Ember, who was asleep in my lap. "That ought to do it."
"Well, you'd better inform the headmaster then, so the doors will be open. They’re locked after lights out until breakfast time." She turned her back, finally heading to the restroom for her bedtime routine.
"Hey, Grace." She stopped. "Thanks for believing in me."
"You'd do the same." She waved and headed out the door.
I took my roommate’s advice, sending a message to the headmaster before setting an alarm so I could leave at the crack of dawn on Saturday, but I had to make it through Thursday and Friday first—and Friday was sort of a big deal. It was a Bishop’s Row game but also a tryout.
"Listen up because I'm only telling you maggots once." Coach Pickman paced in front of the bleachers, where we all sat during Thursday's Gym period. "This game is important because this is how we pick your year's team. You know, the one that's going up against all the upperclassmen this spring?"
"That's not fair." Bailey snorted. "Second and third years have always gotten two teams each, and we only get one."
"If you want to talk to me about always, don't complain." Coach Pickman laughed at us, not with us. "If we keep things the way they've always been, you won't compete at all. Shut your yaps and be thankful. And play your hearts out."
Our time in Gym that day was spent on drills: conjuring, throwing, and ducking each other's balls. Hal didn't use any of his special moves, and I didn't blame him. He'd want to save his stamina for the game. He’d told us all about a million times how he much wanted to be on the team.
In the library, I even found him looking over books of game strategies with Faith. She gave him advice instead of taking notes, which made me think she’d given up on making the team to help her boyfriend. She had changed an awful lot in a good way.
At dinner, none of us could eat. Our to-go bags sat half full. When we went upstairs for the night, we all brought leftovers. I fed mine to Ember.
On the way downstairs in the morning, we wished each other luck. Soon enough, Logan, Faith, Hal, and I were in the gym, waiting to get started.
We’d figured out our formation earlier in the week. Since Hal was so good at dodging, he was up front, on first. Unlike in many other sports, it was a defensive position. I was fast, so I was on second defense. Logan was right behind me—second mid was what they called that. He was slow and his water magic matched, but that was a good thing.
If I ducked, Logan might still be holding his ball. One way to avoid getting tagged out was bumping the incoming ball with yours, but that only worked if you hadn't launched it yet. The lag in Logan's magic meant he'd most likely manage that tactic.
Bailey was beside him on first mid. That was mostly because we weren’t concerned if she got tagged out. Her air magic wasn't much use against the other side, in large part because both her sister and Dylan were air and more likely to make the first-year team. The other drawback to her magic was that it couldn't move most of the other elements. It only affected fire, and Kitty wasn’t likely to be much of a threat.
Alex was in the back, playing reverse point. That was what we called the position between the columns. Reverse point was the most balanced player, the one whose magic and athletici
sm were about even. Normally, that would have been me, but I couldn’t risk revealing myself as an extramagus to get on an intramural team, hence Alex’s promotion. I shouldn't have minded, but I did.
I’d had a long conversation on Monday with Logan about how I should be reverse point, because technically I was the strongest player. But without the ability to fully unleash my magic, I couldn't play to my potential. I had to minimize just about every move I made on the court, and that stung. The very fact that he understood had softened that blow
Our familiars acted sort of like a cheering squad. They hung around on the sidelines, watching us. Most of them were openly excited, except for Alex's basilisk Aceso, who curled up in a scaly ball with her head on her tail. I was exhausted too, so I didn't blame her.
Coach Chen watched over the coin toss. Eston called heads, leaving us with tails, but we won, so Hal returned victorious. That meant we got the first throw. I conjured my fire, forming it into a ball between my hands. It was practically second nature at that point, but the flames crackled in response to the nervous excitement singing through my veins.
Coach Pickman blew the whistle and I threw, aiming directly for Dylan. It was a long shot because he played reverse point, but if I tagged him out, we’d win the game immediately.
Everyone said he was the strongest player in our year, but I had at least as good a throwing arm as he did. Also, somewhere deep down, I wanted to impress him.
But he was prepared, or at least his team was. My throw would hit him since I'd aimed properly and he had no time to dodge, but Kitty leaped out from her position behind Grace, taking a hit that immediately removed her from play. Her ankyr and cestus absorbed the magic, flashing red to indicate she was out. She jogged back to the bleachers while everybody else had their orbs halfway conjured or more. I noticed Lee was especially fast at this. I'd have to watch out for him as well as Dylan.
I had got another fireball ready before Lee's wooden orb reached me. I hung onto my ball, incinerating his because fire almost always beat wood. After that, I dodged left as Eston's water projectile buzzed past me. It was always better to go toward the middle of the court than risk eliminating yourself by stepping over the line on the right.
