Authors: Kaye Thornbrugh
Finally, the smothering darkness lifted.
Heartbeat by heartbeat, he came back to his body.
Nasser was lying on his back, his limbs feeling like bags of water, the chill of the grass seeping into him. His breath came in short gasps.
Lee knelt over him, her green eyes
wide with worry. “Nasser?
Can you hear me?”
He managed to nod as he tried to control his breathing and gather the strength to sit up. His head buzzed like a hornet’s nest.
“Are you all right?” He felt Lee’s small hands on his shoulders, helping him sit up.
“I thought you were having a seizure!”
“I—well, I guess I was,” he admitted, knowing what Lee had witnessed while
he
was lost in his senses.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened.
“I’m fine,” he assured her,
though he was no such thing. He felt panicked and weak and sort of like he might throw up.
“I’m okay. That just…
happens sometimes.
”
“Should we take you to the hospital?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “
It’s not what you think
, honestly
. I’m not epileptic or anything.”
“Then w
hat happened?”
Her hand was still on his arm. He focused on the warmth of it, using her to anchor himself more fully in the
moment.
“I don’t know.” That was mostly true.
“I…
have a
bad feeling.”
She knit her brow. “What kind of feeling?”
“Have you ever just
known
something? Just felt something and known?” She shook her head, and he paused. “Well
…
I feel a lot of things. When I enter a building, I know right away what kinds of things have happened there—births, deaths, illnesses, things like that. I feel them. They’re colored and textured. They have smells and tastes.
“I can tell when someone is lying to me. I always know there are people around because I
feel
them around me. If it’s someone I’m close to, I feel them all the time. They have a presence in my mind. They’re always there, and if something happens to them
…
”
“You feel it,” Lee finished.
He nodded solemnly. “Usually it’s just a sense. Like an itch in
side my head. But sometimes it triggers what you just saw—a sort of seizure.
I don’t know why.
”
“Then…
what did you sense?”
“Something’s happened to Filo. Something bad. I think he’s hurt.”
“Then we should go.” Strange, he thought: She didn’t question him, or give him a funny look. She didn’t even hesitate. She just stood and offered to help him up. “Can you walk?”
The Way of the World
For a long time, Filo just lay on the floor, his body throbbing with pain. He ached from the unprecedented strain of channeling so much energy through his own body, and with such force. He would think twice next time before he
used
his magic that way
again
.
H
e struggled to his feet and conjured a very small, inconstant ball of light. Glancing over his shoulder, Filo saw that the floor was smeared with his blood. It was scorched in places.
He winced as he bent to scoop up his bag, which lay untouched, but he was too stiff to do anything but clutch it in one hand and
drag
it
. His thoughts bleary, he stumbled into the corridor. He had no idea where he was.
He walked for what felt like ages, each step a conscious effort. And then, in front of him, quite suddenly, was the exit: a pair of blue double-doors. He was sure that this was what Theseus had felt when he found his way out of Minos’ labyrinth—breathless with relief—though Filo had no ball of string, only a spattered trail of blood to show that he had passed this way.
How much blood had he lost
? Enough to make him lightheaded and weak. Enough to make his vision swim and make
everything seem
a little unreal.
The doors were locked, and the small amount of magic he used to open them made his stomach lurch dangerously. When he’d gotten outside and crossed the parking lot, he squinted up at the nearest street sign. King Street. Flicker was ten or eleven blocks west of King Street—at least, he thought so. Westward, then.
If he had gone to the school just a few days after tonight, if he’d allowed the Samhain magic to wear off, the boggarts would have been down to their normal strength, and exterminating them would have been a breeze.
But you couldn’t wait to see the school, could you?
he thought blearily.
You just had to go poking around where you don’t belong. And Rodney knew you couldn’t resist. He thought this would be fun.
The world seemed to be distorting before his eyes.
Street names and storefronts blurred together.
He couldn’t think anymore.
Filo sank down o
nto the cold concrete,
propped up against the brick side of a building. He couldn’t remember how
far he’d walked
. Maybe he hadn’t even
gotten out of the school
. Minos’ labyrinth, still dangerous, though the Minotaur was slain. Or was it? Had he killed it? He couldn’t remember. He hurt too much.
A pair of gray eyes was looking down at him. They were cloudy like the sky just before rain broke.
“Filo? Jeeze, Filo! What
happened
to you?”
The eyes had a face, suddenly, and a body, too, and it was grabbing Filo by the shoulders and hauling him to his feet. Filo’s legs quaked beneath him, threatening to give out.
He found himself leaning heavily against the other body.
“You’re gonna have to give me some help here,
man.” The voice was
strained. “Flicker’s just a couple blocks away. You can make it that far.”
* * *
The Flicker sign swung in the bitter wind
whipping
down East Teric Avenue. Nasser ran toward it, Lee several steps behind. He knew she was struggling to keep up with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.
When he reached the front door, he was surprised to find it unlocked. As he rushed through the shop, he nearly fell over with surprise when Jason appeared at the bottom
of the stairs
. “What are you doing here?”
“He had a feeling,” Lee panted
,
her
hands on her knees
. “About Filo.”
“I should’ve known,” Jason said, turning and darting up the stairs. He called over his shoulder, “He’s in the apartment! I found him when I was walking back. He was practically passed out on the sidewalk. I dragged him back here.”
“Is he all right?” Lee sounded genuinely
concerned
.
“He’ll live,” Jason assured her. “But he’s hurt. I m
ixed a potion to keep him awake
a
nd gave him some aspirin
, but that’s the best I could d
o.
He’s alert, though, and he’s not talking nonsense anymore.”
“What happened to him?” Nasser asked.
“Boggarts at the high school. Lots of them.”
When Nasser saw Filo through the open door, he had to lean against the door frame as the breath went out of him. The dark feeling lifted, and Nasser reali
zed that he was shaking
.
Filo sat on the edge of the bed,
hunched over
. He was shirtless, and covered with cuts and puncture marks. His skin was stained pale red over his shoulders, arms, and chest. Wadded-up paper towels were piled at his feet, blotted with blood.
“
Jeeze
, Filo,” Nasser breathed.
Filo raised his head. His lower lip was
split and
swollen, and he had a black eye. When he spoke, he sounded immeasurably tired. “That’s
exactly
what Jason said.”
Nasser tried to smile. “We should probably get you cleaned up.”
“Probably.” Filo stood stiffly,
his face pinched with pain. W
hen he turned, Nasser saw that Filo’s back was a mess of
raw-looking
cuts. As Filo limped toward the bathroom, Nasser reached out to help him, but Filo swatted him away.
The bathroom seemed smaller than Nasser remembered it. He reached up and touched the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, filling it with pale gray light. Then he stooped and grabbed the healing kit from the cupboard under the sink, as well as a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a roll of paper towels.
“This is gonna sting,” Nasser warned as he drenched the towels in peroxide.
The other boy leaned against the counter, gripping the sink.
Filo’s face constricted with pain as Nasser rubbed the towels briskly over Filo’s back and sides, his shoulders and arms. The wounds frothed white.
“You realize the bottle says ‘for
minor
cuts and scrapes,’ right?”
he
ask
ed, through gritted teeth.
“B
oggarts are filthy. Do you
want
an infection?”
N
asser opened a vial containing a healing potion,
splashed
some on a fresh towel and rubbed it into the wounds
. “
Damn.
I don’t think you’ve been this banged-up since that run-in with the redcaps a few winters ago.”
Filo looked up sharpl
y and stared at the
mirror, his eyes trained on Nasser’s reflection. Filo’s eyes were strikingly blue, like twin
points of fire
. “How do you know about that?”
So Alice hadn’t told him
what happened
that winter
. Nasser supposed Filo had to know eventually, but now was hardly the best time. An
other time. Maybe. “Turn around,” he said.
“
Let me see your face.”
A bit unwillingly, Filo turned. “I can do this myself, you know.”
“It would take you ages,
and you wouldn’t do a good job,
” Nasser said,
carefully
dabbing the towel around Filo’s black eye and along the scrape on his neck. “Just let me finish, okay?”
Nasser
dropped the used towel in the sink
and looked down at Filo’s jeans. They were bloodstained an
d torn. “You were limping.
Did you get bit?”
Filo nodded.
“I’m gonna have to take a look at the bite.”
“I’ll see to that myself.”
“You’re just making it harder.”
“I
said
I’ll do it myself.”
Nasser furrowed his brow. “What happened, Filo?”
The other boy sighed. “Rodney sent me a note about a boggart infestation at the hi
gh school. I know it was stupid,” he added, as if trying to ward off criticism
he feared would come
.
“
I’d never been in a school before, though. I—” Filo shook his head. “There were so many of them. They were everywhere. It was dark and they just
kept coming
.”
Nasser
set
a hand on Filo’s shoulder and squeezed gentl
y. “It’s all right,” he said quietly.
“
You’re okay.”
Shrugging Nasser
off, Filo said, “Go on.
I’ll do the rest myself.”
Nasser hesitated, then moved towar
d the door. “Just
do a good
job cleaning those bites.
”
Filo nodded. “And
…
Nasser?”
“Yeah?”
The other boy looked away. When he spoke, his voice was small. “Thanks.”
* * *
The adrenaline rush that had fueled Lee on the run back to Flicker was fading, leaving her feeling drained as she sank down on the bed in the front room.
She kept mentally replaying
Nasser’s “vision,” seeing him twitch and shake. She’d never seen anyone have a seizure before. In that moment, when she had no idea what to do for him, Lee had felt utterly helpless. Knowing the cause of his reaction didn’t make her feel any better.
She gripped her elbows, feeling sick.
Jason was seated on the floor by the bed. She noticed a raised scar on the back of his neck, the lines thick and pale against his
skin. A rune.