Flicker (44 page)

“
A long time. I found in a box downstairs whe
n I was a kid, and I used to read it all the time.
” He shrugged. “It was good practice.”

“For what?”

“English.
We didn’t speak it much with
Nem
and Morgan. When Nasser and Jason came, I understood everything they said, but I had a hard time forming the words.
And my accent was so thick that they couldn’t understand much of what I did say,” he added with a snort. “
So I would take that book and read it aloud, every word.
I didn’t know words could be so beautiful.”

They sat in silence for a while, Lee waiting patiently for drowsiness to come over her, and Filo gazing into the depths of the fire.

Eventually, she spoke, her voice quiet. “I know how Nasser and Jason got here. The whole story. Nasser told me.
He didn’t say anything about you
…
b
ut I think I know.”

He scoffed. “What do you know?”

“T
hey took you,” Lee said softly. “That’s what you meant when you said you don’t have parents—that
Neman
and
Morgan
found out about you when you were ver
y little, and took you. And
as far as your real parents know, their son is dead.”

“He
is
dead.”

“But you’re—”

“Not him.” His voice was firm, yet hushed, as if he
were sharing some vital secret
. “That boy died the moment
Nem
and
Morgan
touched him. His family buried who he was along with a pie
ce of wood
. Then he was given a new name, one that could never be used against him, because it wasn’t real. And he became me.
A changeling—that’s what I am. Not the one left behind, but the one taken away
.
”

For a long time, Lee
just
stared at him. He was very still, and seemed very far away.

“Who are you, then?” she asked. “Really?”

When his gaze flicke
re
d toward her, the blue in his eyes seemed softened, bruised, as if she had hurt him. “I’m Filo Shine. Which is fine. Except Filo Shine doesn’t exist.”

“Just because you’re dead on pap
er doesn’t mean you don’t exist,” she said.
“
I should know.”

“That’s not it. Names are magical, L
ee. They’re powerful. Dangerous
.” He straightened and looked her in the eyes. “Th
ere is magic that can
force any being to do your bidding—
any
being—so long as you can speak its full and true name. Did you know that?”

Lee shook her head mutely.

“Names define us,” he continued.
“
They give us shape and form and identity. Your true name is the most precious thing you own.”

“But your true name is gone,” she realized. “And the name they gave you
…
”

“Is entirely worthless,” he finished bitterly. “My name is Filo Shine. But there
is
no Filo Shine. It’s just a name
Nem
and
Morgan
picked because they had to call me something. It doesn’t
mean
anything to anyone. But it’s the only name I have, so I’m only what it makes me.”

Her body was beginning to feel heavy, but Lee
fought the urge to yawn.

“Do you ever wonder about them?” she ventured. “Your family?”

He shook his head wearily. “I spent
most of my childhood
teach
ing
myself
not
to wonder. There’s no point. All wondering does is make you feel sick.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her borrowed sweatpants.
Then she offered the book to him. “
I should try and get some sleep now. Thanks for the potion.”

He only shrugged
and accepted the book without look
ing at her. He
clutched
it
tightly, like an amulet, like something that could keep him safe.

She noticed the dark circles that ringed his eyes, the fresh bruises on his face
, and she wondered how it could be that someone so young could hold himself with all the sadness of a hundred years of living
.

She crossed to the bedroom, but lingered in the doorway, one hand on the frame. “Hey, Filo?” Though she didn’t look back at him, she thought she felt his eyes on her back. “For what it’s worth, you seem pretty real to me.”

* * *

Filo watched helplessly as Lee spent most of the next afternoon puttering around the apartment, rearranging his things into an order that suited her. There seemed to be no stopping her. Filo and Jason kept well out of her way as she worked, lest they be enlisted in the cleaning effort. Nasser was forced to sit out on account of his eyes.

The books seemed to be Lee’s top priority. She sorted them by subject, one at a time: history, medicine, magical theory. The list went on and on. Filo began to feel as if he were living in a bookstore or a library.

Over the course of hours, the clutter disappeared into boxes, which were then placed carefully along the walls. The transformation was a little shocking.

More than that, though, Filo was astonished at Lee’s speed and efficiency. If she became half as good at magic as she was at organizing, Filo thought, she would be formidable indeed.

* * *

Sometimes, when Nasser splashed the potion into his eyes, the burning was so intense that he was sure his eyes would shrivel and burn like eggs left too long in the pan. He’d taken to shutting himself in the bathroom when he used the potion.

He used the potion every four hours. With each use, his vision cleared a
little
more. By their second day cloistered in the apartment, he could make out shapes and outlines, even
in dim light
. He expected to see color by tomorrow morning, the third day. By tomorrow night, he might even see Lee’s face.

It was almost funny. Nasser had always taken his vision for granted. He’d always seen perfectly, better than perfectly
, more
clearly
than any optometrist could
ever
imagine
. He’d never even considered what it might be like to be blind.
The rain hadn’t let up for two days. Lee had woken on the third morning to whispering rains, and as the hours rolled by, it had only fallen harder. The droplets striking the roof now sounded more like stones than water.

Flicker would’ve been closed today, Filo said, even if things were normal: Running water disrupted magic, and such a deluge made spell-casting almost impossible. Nasser predicted that this dreary weather would hold for a few days.

Since the apartment was as clean as Lee cared to make it, she decided to spend this rainy day doing something relaxing. So she drew. And drew. And drew.

Time slipped past with the strokes of her pencil.
 

* * *

“What’s it like?” Lee asked Nasser, when they were alone in the kitchen,
sorting
through
cluttered
cupboards. “Feeling energies? Feeling people?”

He considered his
answer. “It’s l
ike always having someone else floating around inside your head. You’re never really alone.”

“I bet that gets annoying.”

“Sometimes,”
he acknowledged. Then he smiled at her.
“I guess it depends on who you’ve got on your mind.”

* * *

“As I went over London Bridge, I met my sister Jenny,” Jason intoned. It was early afternoon, and the four of them were
gathered
around a table in the workroom, peering at each other over the tops of playing cards splayed before their faces. “I broke her neck, and drank her blood, and left her standing empty. What—”

“She’s a bottle of gin,” Filo finished, without any enthusiasm.

Jason raised his eyebrows, looking both impressed and slightly suspicious. “That’s three in a row. How did you know?”

“I’m smart. That’s how.”

Nasser chuckled. His eyes were almost completely clear; only a thin lavender film remained to obscure his vision. “The fact that you’ve told that one before helps, too.”

“No more riddles,” Lee sighed. “Filo sucks all the fun out of them.”

“All right,” Jason said, looking thoughtful. “How about this? A roc and a behemoth get into a fight. Who wins?”

Filo frowned. “A roc and a behemoth would never get into a fight. They live in completely different parts of the world.”

“But if they did—” Jason started.

“They wouldn’t.”

“If they
did
—”

“Jason, they
wouldn’t
. It’s not
possible
.
And Lee, it’s your turn.
”

“Oh.” Lee studied her cards. “Jason, do you have any nines?”

“Nope. Go fish.”

* * *

On the fourth night, when all the riddles had been told, and card games had grown dull, the Seers of Bridgestone City did something surprisingly normal: They sat around the fireplace, chipped mugs in their hands,
blankets piled on the floor around them,
and told stories. Not ghost stories or tall tales; they had no need for those. Instead, they shared the stories behind their countless scars, the proof of their exploits.

Lee found it highly interesting,
but
she had no stories to tell. All her scars were faint and unimpressive, having come from falling
from
bikes, or trees, or swing sets. Not terribly exciting, especially when compared with the battle scars the boys had accumulated. So, for the most part, she just sipped the hot tea Nasser had made and listened closely.

“I’ve gone four time
s,” Filo complained.
“I don’t have any good ones left.”

“How about that one?” Lee asked, pointing to Filo’s right forearm. A thick, jagged scar ran lengthwise across it.

He frowned thoughtfully. “I
think
it’s from when I jumped out of that window and landed in a pile of scrap wood. But it could be from something else.”

“You
jumped
out of a
windo
w?
”

“Oh, Lee, don’t look
at me like that. You’d have
jumped, too, if there was a vampire after you, and night was coming. I had to get out
somehow
.” He nodded toward Jason. “Your turn.”

“This one,” Jason said proudly, indicating a small indentation on his forehead, “is from the time Filo pushed me down the stairs.”

“I didn’t push you,” Filo protested. “You fell!”

“Because you pushed me!”

Fil
o bristled. “I did not. But if I did, I’m sure you deserved it.”

“It’s Na
sser’s turn,” Lee reminded him.

“Show them the
one
from that
nokk in Reedville last summer,” Jason suggested.

“What’s a nokk?” Lee asked.

“A water-dwelling faery
,” Jason explained. “
Nokks
like to drown
people
.”

“I’m up for that,” Filo said. “Come on, Nasser. Let’s see.”

Nasser hesitated, then muttered, “Fine.” He pulled his shirt up: Three pale white scars, each about half an inc
h wide and tapered at the ends,
began on his lower abdomen and
curved upward and around, stretching past his ribs and to the middle of his back.

Lee
stared, leaning forward a bit. The scars stood out against his skin, which was given an even warmer tone by the yellow firelight. They were oddly elegant, speaking of long-passed pain and danger.
She noticed the lean muscles of Nasser
’s stomach and
back
,
and
felt
a sudden, powerful urge to touch him, to run her fingers slowly over the raised scars. She
dipped her head quickly to hide her blush.
“How much did you
blee
d?
”

“A lot,” he admitted sheepishly. “Not that I remember much.”

Jason nodded eagerly. “There was blood
everywhere
. By the time I got the nokk off him, he’d blacked out.
But
he turned out all right,” he finished, with a sunny smile.
“We got paid extra that time
.”