Authors: Christina Bell
After what seemed like an eternity, Grace looked up at him and smiled. “Since it’s all magic anyway, I can change my mind later, right? Can’t I just call a do-over?”
Miles laughed and shook his head. “You kids have caused enough inconvenience for one night. I have a business to run, a marriage to save from my own stupidity, and a child to raise. Now that you know the truth, I won’t be bothering with the affections of teenagers again. Make your decision. Stick to it. Then we can go about the more important business of learning what power these rings hold. In the scope of things, that is infinitely more important than who your boyfriend is. I cared when I thought I needed Cam to draw you in. I don’t need that anymore. Do what you want. You could release everyone from all magic and let t
he world run its course, or you could create whatever results you want. You have all the power.” He started to walk out, but turned back to share one last thought. “I’ll tell Theo everything he needs to know. But you should understand that he mustn’t know about the Oberon talent just yet. Let’s keep that on a need-to-know basis.”
“But Theo’s family,” Grace began to argue, but was cut off by Miles.
“You’re my family. Theo is my brother-in-law. In most things, the distinction doesn’t matter so much, but in this one thing, it’s key. There may very well be a day when we need to share the whole truth. Let’s wait for that day. In the meantime, I need for family business to stay private while I look for the third ring.”
Miles walked directly to the common room that the boys favored. From his pocket, he pulled a small heavy canvas bag, a remnant of another adventure, years ago. Untying the silk ribbon that held it closed, he reached in and produced a pinch of tiny glasslike crystals. With a wave of his arm, he released them into the air, where they hovered, awaiting his instructions. Choosing his words carefully, he pronounced, “Let all but me sleep until day.”
Each crystal exploded into a small fountain of silver sparkles that dissipated into nothing. Every particle of magic was waiting to attach itself to someone and make them desire sleep more than anything in the world. Once asleep, they would not wake up until sunrise. Miles casually moved to a chair tucked away in a corner. He would wait until the players were in their places and then he could get some sleep.
Chloe was the first to arrive, and she went directly to the room where Miles was waiting. Once inside, she began to look around, and for just a moment, Miles worried that she would see him. However, as th
e spell in the air took hold, she rubbed her eyes and moved toward the center of the room where the couches were. For the second time that night, she settled sideways into the enormous overstuffed chair. With her long blonde hair draped over the arm, she yawned, lifting her head for just a moment to glance at the door as if she was waiting for someone, but she was unable to keep her head up for long. Within moments, her pretty eyes closed and her breathing was even. Quietly, Miles made the chair in which she slept lift from the floor and slowly rotate one-hundred and eighty degrees, concealing her from view, at least somewhat. It would make Grace’s life easier if Chloe, Cam, and Ryder were sleeping apart from one another.
Cam was the next to arrive, easing into the room and whispering, “Chloe, I’m here.” Miles made a table lamp in the corner farthest from Chloe shift in its spot enough to make a noise. “Is that you?” Cam asked, moving toward that corner to investigate. He only took a few steps before Miles knew that the sleeping spell had found him. Miles shook his head a little, disappointed with himself for breaking his own rule about bewitching family members. However,
he reminded himself, the rule was really just something he made up to keep Puck in line. As Puck grew older and his powers became more refined, Miles began to fear for Cam’s safety. Puck’s temper was too quick. It made Miles nervous.
Cam yawned and found the nearest sofa. Within seconds, his eyes were closed and he was still. Almost immediately following Cam’s descent into sleep, Ryder burst into the room, yelling loudly, “Chloe, where are you? I’m here.” Miles clapped his hand to his forehead in horro
r. It would be shocking if the boy didn’t awaken the entire household. It was a big house, but no one was accustomed to the sound of lovelorn teenagers running around, shouting.
Ryder wandered around the room, clearly lost, and soon sat down on an unoccupied sofa. His eyes fluttered. Long moments passed while he sat as if drugged. Gradually, he drifted off to sleep, his body slumped to the side awkwardly. Miles summoned all of his paternal instincts and walked over to the boy. He lifted Ryder’s feet onto the couch, shoes and all, and straightened him out so that he wouldn’t be sore when he woke up.
Before leaving the room, Miles re-opened the bag from which the sleeping spell had come. “Your work is done,” he whispered, and from the air, the sparkles materialized, converged back into crystals and zipped directly back to the canvas bag. Miles placed the bag in his pocket and gave it a satisfied little pat. Now, it was all up to Grace.
For Puck, the best part of any task was celebrating its completion. As soon as he was sure that Cameron, Chloe, and Ryder were in the penthouse, he turned on his heel and went out, looking for a drink and companionship. A quick text message was all it took to locate Nick, Peter, and Sloan in a Midtown club. Within moments of entering the dark, deafeningly loud room, Puck could see that Nick and Peter were doing their best to talk to girls, but were mostly standing around, looking baffled. On any other night, they would have been with Puck, who was, unbeknownst to them, able to lend a helping hand. Making a girl trip and fall into the arms of one of his friends had proven to be highly effective in the past. Puck’s favorite trick, though, when there was competition for the same girl, was to lock onto the drink held by his friend’s rival. Puck would cause the glass or bottle to lift into the air slowly, while the bewildered boy inevitably continued to clutch it, even when his arm was fully extended high over his head. Puck would tip the vessel slowly until the contents dribbled onto the victim’s head. To any observer, it appeared that this buffoon had randomly lifted his glass and dumped it onto his own head.
Tonight, Puck found that his enthusiasm for such games was markedly diminished. His father’s free will speech from earlier that night was weighing heavily on him, and he resolved to make his friends struggle without his assistance. He was the first to admit to indulgent behavior, but the events of the night forced him to reflect on his own actions, which was something he hated to do.
Puck noticed that Sloan was not on the prowl, which was just as well. Sloan’s stupidity wasn’t as much of a problem as his bumbling social manner. Guys found him amusing, but girls usually thought he was a little frightening. He was perfect for playing a lion in a play, but not someone who girls singled out as a romantic prospect.
It didn’t take Puck long to locate Sloan on one of the many sofas that filled the lounge area of the busy club. Taking a seat next to him, Puck had a good view of the bar area, where Peter, who was generally one of the more competent members of the group, had managed to peel a small, skinny girl away from her friends and place his body between her and her companions, making it difficult for them to pull her back in to their circle. It was a rookie mistake. Causing a girl to feel vulnerable would only make her desperate to be saved. Peter would do better to engage to whole group of girls before turning individual attention to the one that captured his interest.
Puck turned to Sloan to comment, but quickly figured out that he would have to speak much louder if he wanted to be heard. Although the couches were pretty far from the dance floor, the heavy bass of the music made it difficult to have a conversation without yelling.
“Peter’s screwing it up.” Puck pointed at Peter and shouted directly into Sloan’s ear. “He’s scaring her.”
Sloan looked to where Puck was pointing and nodded. “It might work,” he responded. Sloan’s size lent itself to considerable lung capacity. He was always easy to hear.
“The way things are going for him tonight, you could do better, I think,” Puck pondered. “You’re big, but you don’t try to scare anyone. You should get out there and give it a shot.”
Sloan didn’t say a word. He just shook his head.
“Why not?” Puck asked. He could feel his throat straining from talking so loud.
“What’s the point? This place isn’t real,” Sloan answered. “It’s like sleepwalking, but louder and darker.”
Puck looked at Sloan in surprise. He didn’t know if his usually thick-headed friend was having a moment of depth or if he just stumbled into a lucky combination of words. He started to argue that an occasional illusion never hurt anyone, but Sloan had turned his attention elsewhere, and Puck was tired of having to talk so loud. Back at the bar, the skinny girl was back with her friends and Peter was moving toward the couches where Puck and Sloan were sitting. In that instant, Puck decided that he’d rather head back to the penthouse and check on the real illusions at work there. They were far more interesting that contrived illusions of club kids. Without saying goodbye to Sloan, he stood and headed toward the door.
Grace was so lost in her own deliberations that she didn’t hear Miles return to the office. He cleared his throat and she looked up. “They’re here. Do whatever you think is best. But remember, I won’t make things this easy for you again. You have until sunrise. The sleep spell they’re under wears off when the sun rises.” And with that, he walked out, leaving her to her thoughts.
She was sitting behind his desk, where she found paper and a pen, and was creating a muddled collection of notes and drawings, trying to sort out her thoughts. As awful as Chloe was, she was right about one thing. She and Cam really did have a shared experience that was beyond what Grace understood. Where Grace came from, teenagers acted like teenagers. They worried about their SAT scores and paying for college. They went to school events and hung out on their stoops, eating pizza. Cam and Chloe were part of a Manhattan subculture in which teenagers wore designer clothes and planned charity events. They probably worried about their SATs, but they could afford tutors and coaches to help them study. Their fathers were able to call in connections to help them get into a good college. In Brooklyn, kids had to get by with what came naturally to them. They weren’t all necessarily poor; they just lived in the real world like normal people.
What Grace was having trouble reconciling was the fact that she was now, by birth, entitled to choose either world. In the morning, she would divulge her relationship to the Oberons to Theo and, if she chose him, to Ryder. Theo would be fine, but what about Ryder? He was already feeling insecure about their relationship. This new layer of complication might be the last straw. This might push him away from her completely. She was prepared for the possibility of losing him as a boyfriend. She wasn’t sure she was ready to lose him as a friend. They
had been close for so many years that she counted on him more than just about anyone else, except for Theo.
The other option was surprising, even to her. If she let Ryder remain in love with Chloe, she could make Chloe fall for Ryder. Ryder would have the assurance of lasting love that he was hoping for, and Grace would be able to keep him as a friend.
He might not be so bitter about the end of his romantic relationship with Grace if he were caught up in his new love for Chloe. As an added benefit, Ryder would have to embrace this new way of life. He and Grace could face the challenges involved in adapting to Manhattan society together, as friends. They had both been reluctant to associate with the members of this subculture until tonight, but with all Grace had learned, she no longer felt she could shun the Oberons. They were family, except for Cam, which worked out very nicely for her.
It wasn’t so easy, though.
On the down side of letting Ryder remain in love with Chloe was the deceit of magic. In the same way that Miles didn’t just use magic to make her fall for Cam, Grace didn’t know how she felt about depriving Ryder of the experience of meeting someone and falling in love naturally. But he had done that with her, and here she was, considering letting him go. Natural love was risky. It could run its course and fade. Magical love, because it was imposed by an outside force and not subject to flights of fancy, came with a guarantee, and that kind of assurance was exactly what Ryder wanted. The question was simply whether or not Grace could bring herself to embrace her new role as puppet master to that degree, or should she use it to do what instinct told her was the right thing and set everyone free from magic? Wouldn’t the ethical choice be to undo all magic and leave everyone to make their own decisions? Besides, if she really wanted no part of this world, as she insisted so often and so vehemently, wouldn’t she reject it by realeasing everyone from the influence of magic? Could she take Ryder and walk out? Was it possible that the events of one night could change the way she saw all of this? Was she wrong about the Oberons and just realizing it now, or had she been seduced by the lure of magic and wealth?
Quietly, list in hand, Grace left the office and retraced her path to the room where Cam, Ryder, and Chloe were sleeping. The first face she saw was Ryder’s. She sat down next to him and brushed his hair off his forehead. None of this would be easy for him. There was no choice she could make that
guaranteed her future with him. Maybe, the reason she had been so hesitant to tell him what he wanted to hear, that they would not break up when they went to college, was that she knew deep down that they probably would. Unfortunately, romantic love and the friendship from which it grows usually disappear together.