Shimmer (15 page)

I nodded, aware of the words, noting the warning they contained, but still too entranced by my own reflection to really pay them much notice. Seeing the way the deeper, richer shade of green glowed and swirled all around me, and knowing it was the direct result of the choices I’d made.

“Remember what I told you,” he said, his gaze signaling that he did not trust my ability to not say a word, to not blow it, to let him handle things—not for a moment.

I frowned, started to push past him, watching my glow wave and retreat as he stood to the side and ushered me in.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” I said, pausing to look at him, “I’ve totally got my glow on. So really, how bad can it be?”

I checked my reflection again, convinced that no matter what happened, no matter what the Council might say, my glow would be with me. It was something I’d earned. It wasn’t going anywhere.

The thought instantly canceled by Bodhi’s voice at my ear, saying, “Wrong again, Riley. Whatever the Council gives, they can also take away. And now, thanks to you, by the time we get out of here, we may never glow again.”

author’s note

While the characters and the situations they find themselves in are fictional, the story itself was loosely inspired by the 1733 slave revolt in the Danish West Indies (now known as St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands). In Africa, a number of noblemen and -women, as well as wealthy merchants, had been sold into slavery after a revolt against them, then brought to the Caribbean to work as slaves. Eventually, they rebelled against the plantation owners and managers with the purpose of retaining other African slaves from different tribes to do their labor.

Purported to be among the first of those killed was a plantation owner and his young stepdaughter.

Also, the sadistic game of “beach bowling” is alleged to be true.

Coming in Fall 2011

Riley’s adventures continue in

Dreamland

The second I laid eyes on Aurora my shoulders slunk, my face unsquinched, and I heaved a deep sigh of relief knowing I had an ally, a friend on my side.

I was sure it would all be okay.

It was the way her hair shimmered and shone, transforming from yellow to brown to black to red before starting the sequence all over again.

Her skin did the same, changing from the palest white to the darkest ebony, and every possible hue in between.

And her gown, her gorgeous yellow gown, sparkled and gleamed and swished at her feet like a crush of shooting stars.

Even though I no longer mistook her for an angel like I did the first time I saw her, still, the whole glistening sight of her calmed me in a major way.

But as it turns out, I’d misread the whole thing.

As soon as I took one look at her aura—as soon as I noted the way its usual bright popping purple had dimmed to a much duller violet—well, that’s when I knew we were on opposite sides.

It was just like Bodhi had said.

I had a heckuva lot to explain.

My shoulders drooped, my head hung in shame, and it was all I could do to shuffle along behind him, my scraggly blond hair hanging limply before me like some flimsy, useless shield.

But it was no use.

Nothing could spare me from what was clearly inevitable.

So I used those last remaining moments to run a frantic search through my best, most plausible excuses—mentally rehearsing my story again and again like a panicky actor on opening night.

Even though I knew I’d done the right thing, even though I was one hundred percent sure that a failure to act would’ve resulted in disaster of monumental scale, even though I’d totally succeeded in my job as a Soul Catcher by convincing a whole lot of ghosts, including one particularly evil one, to cross the bridge to where they belonged, even though I knew all of that, there was no doubt that I was also one hundred percent responsible for causing the problem in the first place.

I’d been told to look the other way.

I’d been warned to mind my own business.

To not get involved by sticking my semi-stubby nose in places where it most certainly didn’t belong.

But did I listen?

Uh, not exactly.

Instead I charged full speed ahead into a heap of trouble.

And yet, if I do say so myself, despite the danger I put us all in, the end result was impressive.

Exceedingly, undeniably impressive.

I just hoped the Council would agree.

I followed Bodhi toward the stage, his back so stiff and his hands so clenched I was glad I couldn’t see his face. Though, if I had to guess, I’d be willing to bet that his mouth, free of the long green straw he usually chomped on when the Council wasn’t around, was pinched into a thin, grim line, while his green eyes, heavily shadowed by his insanely thick fringe of lashes, were sparking and flaring as he tried to concoct the best way to get rid of me. And though I couldn’t hear his thoughts, couldn’t get the slightest inkling of just what he might be thinking, I decided to be glad for that too. It was clear his annoyance with me had pretty much scaled the summit.

I peered out from under my bangs, my gaze performing a quick sweep of the audience, seeing Aurora taking her place next to Claude, who sat next to Samson, who was right beside Celia, who was so tiny and petite she was able to share an armrest with Royce without either one of them having to compromise or fight for equal space. And seeing them all assembled like that, waiting for one good reason why our little Caribbean vacation had gone so tragically wrong (or, as I liked to see it,
heroically right
—it was all a matter of perspective), well, that’s when I remembered the most important evidence of all.

The one undeniable thing that required no verbal explanation as it was right there, smack-dab in the front and center, visible for all to see.

I had my glow on.

Actually, scratch that. It wasn’t just my usual glow. It was far more impressive than that.

As a reward for all I’d accomplished back in St. John, my glow had significantly deepened. Going from what started out as a barely there, pale green shimmer straight into a … well … a somewhat deeper green shimmer.

Okay, maybe the change wasn’t all that drastic, but the thing is, what it lacked in drama it made up for in … er …
substance.

Let’s just say that it couldn’t be missed.

After all, I’d seen it.

Bodhi had seen it.

Even Buttercup had looked right at me and barked a few times as he wagged his tail and spun around.

All of which I took as a pretty good sign that the Council would see it too. From what I knew of them, they didn’t miss much of anything.

So I relaxed. Pushing my hair off my face as I thought,
How bad can it be when my glow is so clearly minty green?

But then, just after that, I remembered what Bodhi had said right after he’d found me at the Viewing Room and made me come here.

Something about consequences and actions.

Something about the Council’s ability to give and take at will.

Something about the fact that because of what I’d done, because of my failure to follow his orders, it was really quite possible that by the time we left here, neither of us would ever glow again.

Knowing I had to act fast, knowing I had to do whatever it took to get them to see my side of things, I charged ahead. Whatever Bodhi was up to, I was sure it wouldn’t work in my favor. He’d let me know, on plenty of occasions, just how much of a burden he found me.

I had no time for trouble. No time to waste. I’d just learned something extraordinary, had just heard about some mysterious dimension where all the dreams take place—and I was determined to find it.

Bodhi couldn’t be trusted. And when it came right down to it, it was every man, er, make that
ghost,
for himself. So I squeezed him right out and took center stage.

He gasped in astonishment, tried to push me away, but he was too late and I was too fast, and before he could do anything more, I was already standing smack-dab in front of the Council.

I was ready to tell them my side of things.

My story. My way.

And I was just about to begin when I noticed how Aurora’s aura grew dimmer, and then dimmer still, as the rest of the Council’s followed suit. Darkening in a way that made my mouth grow so dry and my throat go so lumpy the words wouldn’t come.

Leaving me to stand there, shaky, mute, and completely abandoned by Bodhi, my guide, the one person whose job it was to help me.

His eyes meeting mine, he shook his head and smirked, leaving no doubt in my mind just how much he’d enjoy watching me burn.

acknowledgments

Once again, great thanks are owed to Jean Feiwel, Matthew Shear, Rose Hilliard, Anne Marie Tallberg, Jennifer Doerr, Katy Hershberger, Brittney Kleinfelter, and Angela Goddard—just a few of the awesome, hardworking people who help bring my books to life; to Bill Contardi, for the wisdom and laughs; to Jeanette Harvey, who is, without a doubt, the best assistant I could ever imagine; to Sandy, for sharing the magic that is Oobleck; and of course, to my amazingly awesome readers—your enthusiasm and support mean the world to me!

Questions for the Author

How do you come up with your characters?

Honestly, I’m not really sure! The story idea usually comes first, and then as I’m busy working on all the ins and outs of the new world I’m creating, the cast just sort of appears.

What was your inspiration for the Here & Now, the magical realm where Riley lives?

Back when I first started working on the Immortals series, I did quite a bit of research on metaphysics, quantum physics, ghosts, spirits, and the afterlife, etc, all of which sort of fed into the concept of the Here & Now. I guess, in a way, it’s how I hope the afterlife will be.

Do you believe in ghosts?

In a word—yes. I’ve definitely experienced enough unexplainable phenomena to ever rule it out.

Did you grow up with an older sister the way Riley did? How many brothers and sisters do you have?

I have two older sisters, both of whom I completely idolized. There’s a bit of an age gap between us, one is ten years older, and the other five years older, and trust me when I say that I did my best to emulate them. I listened to their music, watched their TV shows, and read their books—all of which was way more appealing than my own, more age-appropriate stuff. And like Riley, I used to try on their clothes and makeup when they were out with their friends, though I suspect that revelation will come as no surprise to them!

Where do you write your books?

I have a home office where I put in very, very long hours seven days a week—but I have the best job in the world, so I’m not complaining!

Have you always wanted to be a writer?

Well, first, I wanted to be a mermaid, and then a princess, but ever since sixth grade when I finished reading my first Judy Blume book,
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret,
I decided I’d rather write instead. I’d always been an avid reader, but Judy Blume’s books were some of the first that I could directly relate to, and I knew then that someday I wanted to try to write like that too.

What would you do if you ever stopped writing?

Oh, I shudder to even think about it. I truly can’t imagine a life without writing. Though I suppose I’d probably start traveling more. I’ve traveled a good bit already, both when I was working as a flight attendant and just on my own, but there are still so many places left to explore. Oh, and I’d probably enroll in some art classes too—painting, jewelry making, crafty stuff like that.

What would your readers be most surprised to learn about you?

Not long ago, every time I finished writing a book I would celebrate by cleaning my house, which, I have to say, was sorely in need of it by then. But recently, I’ve come to realize just how very sad and pathetic that is, so now I get a pedicure instead (and save the housecleaning for another day)!

A S
QUARE
F
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B
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An Imprint of Macmillan

SHIMMER. Copyright © 2011 by Alyson Noël, LLC. All rights reserved. For information, address Square Fish, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

Square Fish and the Square Fish logo are trademarks of Macmillan and are used by St. Martin’s Press under license from Macmillan.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available

ISBN 978-0-312-64825-1

First Edition: March 2011

Square Fish logo designed by Filomena Tuosto

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eISBN 978-1-4299-9327-2

First Square Fish eBook Edition: March 2011