Authors: Shea Berkley
“You had better be.” Signe reluctantly let go of his hand. “Because I won’t go back to Teag without you.”
The flakes were bigger and the snow stuck to the ground. The only sign that Reece had left was the light impression of his footprints. The sight made Kera nervous. Hopefully the Tharnians wouldn’t notice.
Signe blocked Kera from leaving. The worry she felt matched the look on Signe’s face. “It’s been different between us lately. Hard. But I’m glad you are here.”
“Me too.” Kera gave her friend a quick hug. “Now stay out of sight.” She then went to Bodog, who tightly clasped Faldon’s stick in his big hand. “You know what to do?” she asked.
The rub of wood against wood filled her ears and Faldon’s raspy voice said, “Bodog is ready to die.”
She eyed Bodog. “I have no desire to see you dead. Distract them. That is all.”
The little man nodded and scurried off. Kera followed, making a trail in the snow beside Bodog’s less obvious one. Almost immediately, he threw himself into goading one of the Tharnians. The creature was small, and the cold caused it to move laughably slow. Bodog hit it with his staff and the Tharnian’s head cracked and suddenly shattered, the sound reverberating against the rocks. She was so surprised by the sight, she came up short. For being helpless, Bodog always seemed to surprise her.
All the Tharnians’ attention zeroed in on Bodog and their shattered friend. They raked their stubby fingers down their arms, coming away with handfuls of rocks, which they threw at Bodog. He scurried around, trying to avoid getting hit as Kera called on vines to spring up and capture the Tharnians’ legs, but they quickly iced over and died. It was too cold for what she had planned.
The biggest Tharnian pulled Halim, shivering and pale, behind him.
Where was Reece?
Kera couldn’t wait to find out. She called on her powers until she glowed brighter than Bodog’s best magical mushroom rubdown. The ground split around the Tharnians, and lava bubbled up red and hot, spitting and hissing against the snow as it oozed over the ground, cutting off the Tharnians’ retreat.
Kera cracked the ground in several other places, raising molten rock and pushing the Tharnians in a tighter circle.
Scrapes and clicks and stony rubs echoed between them. As the area heated up, they stomped their feet, shaking the ground, causing small rockslides to skitter close by. Kera fought to stay upright, and heard Signe scream amid the crash of tumbling rocks.
Although Kera wanted to make sure Signe was okay, she couldn’t leave the others. The lava heated the surrounding air like an oven left on high, melting the snow and with it all signs of Reece or where he might be. Halim’s pale skin glistened with sweat. He twisted right and then quickly jerked left, but the Tharnian had the boy’s wrist caught good and tight.
His skin was beginning to blister. Kera had one chance at this. She called up the vines again and twisted them around the Tharnians, digging the roots deeply into their rocky skin. The vines smoldered and broke and were replaced with new vines as soon as she noticed. The thunderous stomp of the Tharnians’ feet slowed. She concentrated on the hand that held Halim and sent a vine to wrap around it and burrow deep. The Tharnian struggled, but held on even tighter. Halim cried out and sagged in the painful grip.
She worked at a pace that stretched her abilities, lashing vines to stone and digging their roots deep.
And then suddenly Halim was invisibly swept up into the air by Reece. “Hurry,” he called, the stress in his voice urging her on.
She poured her power onto that one Tharnian until he was covered in vines. The sound of splitting stone rent the air, and with one final attack, the Tharnian burst apart like a balloon filled with confetti.
One moment Halim was floating amid the Tharnians, the next he was moving toward Kera. In that instant, she let loose the lava, and the Tharnians fell into a bubbling red-hot lava pit. The ground crumbled and tore away as the lava ate up the area and consumed the rock as if it were ice.
Reece grunted, one step ahead of the collapse, and jumped the last few feet with Halim in his arms. The boy rolled to safety. He quickly pulled the still-attached stone hand off his wrist and flung it away. His eyes caught Kera’s. “What took you so long?”
He didn’t sound hurt. Shouldn’t he be more hurt? She examined his bruised wrist, which she quickly fixed, and his scraped skin. The blisters weren’t as bad as she expected either. She swept a hand over his face, healing the blisters as quickly as they had formed. “You seem in good shape.”
He pushed himself to his elbows. “I was tied up, half frozen then nearly burned to a crisp. As days go, I’ve had better.”
Halim’s hair was ruffled by an unseen hand. “That’s it. Take it like a man.”
A quick spell had Reece slowly materializing. His clothes were singed, but he had a goofy grin on his face. Kera had never seen him look happier.
The boy looked around. “Where’s Signe?”
“Over here,” came Bodog’s faint call.
Kera’s stomach pitched and she ran back to where they’d left Signe. Reece was only a few steps behind her, dragging Halim with him. They found Bodog squatting as he stared at Signe struggling to wrench the back of her dress from under a heavy bolder. “I can do this,” she grunted, even as tears gathered in her eyes.
Reece leaned Halim against a rock before approaching Signe. “Are you crying?”
“No!” she snapped, then a watery hiccough sounded. “Y-yes.” She collapsed on the ground and covered her face with her hands. “I’m totally useless, aren’t I? Everyone helped save Halim, even that stupid stick…”
“Excuse me?” Faldon rasped, clearly insulted.
“…and what did I do?” Signe continued, unfazed by his interruption. “I got caught in a rock slide and now I’m stuck.”
Reece palmed his
incordium
blade. “Here, let me—”
“Don’t you dare cut my dress!” Signe stared daggers at him and gathered the skirts close.
While Signe launched into a litany of complaints and Reece snarled about not wanting to deal with her emotional breakdown, Bodog drew the walking stick back and smacked the rock. It cracked and splintered into a million pieces, the sound making Kera’s ears pop. As the dust settled, Bodog lumbered off with Faldon.
Signe sniffled a few times before she shook off the debris and called after the little man, “Thank you.” She turned to Reece and fresh tears sparkled in her eyes as she waved her hand at Bodog. “See? He’s so helpful. I want to be helpful.”
Reece sighed and moved off, muttering.
Signe dried her eyes, then bundled up Halim before they followed Bodog. Signe had a point. Everyone but Kera was a liability. The Seven Sisters would look for each of their weaknesses and wouldn’t hold back. That realization sent a chill down Kera’s spine.
Reece hesitated beside Kera and hitched his satchel onto his shoulder. “I guess having you along was the right decision. It almost makes up for you going batshit crazy on us before we left.”
She would ignore that last bit. “Signe is exhausted and Halim needs to rest.” She held her breath and waited, trying not to show how desperately she needed him to agree.
He did, and Kera couldn’t believe her luck. Reece stared after their friends. “We’ll rest once we’re out of Tharnian territory.” He left no room for discussion.
Kera followed everyone and soon they entered the lower hills where rocks gave way to trees, and the bitter cold to a soft night. Within a sheltered area, they all hunkered down. Kera had every intention of staying awake. Within twenty minutes, everyone should be asleep, and by the time they woke, she would be back, and the sisters would no longer be a problem.
Hide and Go Seek
The gas station stinks like overcooked hot dogs and fuel, a mixture of smells that’s oddly comforting. I’ve moved so much over the years, I know the basic layout of nearly every convenience store chain, a staple in Mom’s stop-and-go tactics. Leo dashes into the toilet area as I prowl the aisles, snagging snacks and a few cold drinks.
Leo stumbles from the toilet grimacing. “Why is there no soap?” He approaches the cashier. “I know you’ll probably never see me again, but come on, bro, soap is a human necessity after using the toilet. Unless this area has toxic waste in the water that’ll strip nasty germs off my hands, I need soap.”
The guy stares blankly at Leo and says, “Maybe you shouldn’t pee on your hands.”
“Cute.” Poor Leo’s happy scale takes a big dip. “I’m not going to point,” Leo mutters and slides his gaze toward a big guy wearing dirty jeans and a flannel shirt, “but I’m pretty sure some of your customers have sanitary issues. I’ll take a wipey…anything that’ll annihilate whatever you have growing in there.”
The cashier tugs out a tissue from a box near the cash register and holds it out to him. “Spit and wipe. That’s what us fancy boys do around here.”
“Really?” Leo looks disgusted.
The guy starts to pull the tissue away. “If you don’t want it…”
Leo snatches it from the guy and spits and wipes his fingers off. He glances at me and I toss him a bottle of sanitizer. “I’ve got your back, dude.”
“You going to pay for that?” the cashier says as Leo squirts a handful into his palm and vigorously rubs his hands together as he makes his way outside.
“What do you think?” I say and step in line behind flannel shirt dude. When it’s just me and the cashier in the store, I suggest the cashier let me fill up the car and use his own money to pay for it and everything I’m holding. I’ve been practicing Kera’s trick, and I’m happy to say it works like a charm…on most people.
The blank stare doesn’t change, but he rings everything up and digs out his own wallet. After paying, he hands me the receipt. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Nope. You’ve been very helpful.”
When I get to the car, Leo frowns at me as though I’m some pest he has to control. “You stole it?”
“Why do you say that?”
He points to my wallet lying conspicuously on the dashboard where I’d tossed it.
I shove the receipt at him. “Paid for.” No need to tell him exactly how. “Can we pump and go already?”
Leo handles the pump and starts to fill up. “In a rush?”
“Yeah.” I lean against the car, though far from relaxed. Ever since Grandma dropped the bomb about Mom having the magic, I’ve been more than dreading our reunion. Every scenario I imagine explodes into chaos. Cooperation is definitely a nasty word in Mom’s vocabulary unless it leads to her getting what she wants. Mom does
not
believe in compromise for the good of others. “This was supposed to take a couple of hours. Now we’ll be gone days.”
He bobs his head and slants me a quick glance. “You know what’s funny? I’m kinda looking forward to meeting your mom.”
I frown and push off the car. “That’s not funny.”
Slipping back into my seat, I try not to get angry at Leo. I could easily let the stress of wondering which crazy hat Mom will be wearing when we catch up with her take over. I prepare myself for the worst. It’s easier that way.
Leo gets in. “You good to go?”
Even though the car is new, I make sure all the windows are rolled down so I won’t get metal poisoning, and then give him a thumbs-up sign.
Interstate 5 is a long stretch of road, one where we entertain ourselves with “what song am I humming really badly” and a debate on whether or not the San Andreas Fault will crack open and plunge most of California into the Pacific. I say no. Leo is adamant it will happen in his lifetime.
Sadly, Willow Creek is one of those typical small towns that lies in the shadows of the Sierra Nevadas no one would notice if it did disappear. I’ve lived in half a dozen towns just like it. As we roll through the handful of streets, the crowds are pretty thick, marking it as a vacation town: skiing and snowboarding in the winter, kayaking and hiking in the summer.
There’s a familiar rhythm to life in a small town. Everything is compact, but Willow Creek has more going for it than most. It sits near a cluster of other small towns and they all feed off one another, making it a bit of a group living experience. Nothing at all like the West Texas expanse that had me wondering if the rest of the world even existed.
“Wow, it’s a really clean town.” Leo slowly drives down Main Street. The place looks like something out of a Hallmark movie where everyone has a compulsive cleaning disorder. “What kind of trouble did your mom get into around here to land her in jail?”
“Don’t know. But she’s an expert at avoiding speeding tickets.”
We pull into a parking space and get out. It’s near dinnertime and my stomach is tight. Still, all I can think about is finding Mom. I hear Leo’s stomach rumble, reach in, and grab a four-pack of powdered doughnuts and toss them his way. As he rips into the packaging, I look up and down the street. Signs for some kind of festival wave in the breeze.
Leo points a powdery finger down the street. “Cop on horseback.”
It’s a start. We make our way through the crowd, and I notice people staring at us. I’m not sure why. I mention it to Leo.
“Bro, I know you being you, it never occurs to you to really look around, but I’m the only guy with even a hint of color around here. In fact it’s so white around here, my eyes hurt.” He holds up the last of his doughnuts and gazes through it at people. Wherever his eye lands, the person suddenly looks away. “I’m automatic trouble to them and since you’re with me, you are too.”
I hadn’t noticed the stares, but the cop does. He nudges his horse toward us. The big animal circles us before the cop pulls to a halt. A big, overly curious smile flashes. “How you boys doing?”
“Fine.” I try to act normal even though I feel anything but normal with everyone staring at us. “I’m actually here to find my mom. She was picked up the other day—”
“On assault charges,” Leo adds helpfully as he licks the powdered sugar off his fingers.
I slant him a look that sends a clear signal to shut up and say, “But then you released her.”
The cop crosses his arms over the saddle pommel and leans forward. “You talking about Addison Kennedy?”
I nod. Figures Mom made an impression. She usually does one way or another.
He gives me the once-over. “No way she has a son your age.”
“Yeah.” I try to ignore my rising irritation. “That’s what everyone says, but surprise, she does. Do you know where we can find her?”
“Sorry, kid. Augustus Allen paid her fine and that’s the last I saw of her.”
“Who’s Augustus Allen?” Leo asks.
He doesn’t look at Leo, only keeps his eyes on me like I’m some kind of criminal mastermind about ready to pull the heist of the century, and fidgets with the reins between his fingers. “The man she assaulted. Can you believe that?”
Yes. Yes, I can. Mom’s pretty slick when she wants to be. “Is she still with him?” It’d be a miracle if she were.
“Who knows?” The cop straightens and points behind him. “Auggie has a place on the corner of Third and Firehouse Road called Fisted Ink Tattoos.” His gaze travels the crowd and says, “I’ll be all sorts of happy if your mom isn’t there, but if she is, I’d be even happier if you collected her and left. We’re a quiet town and your mom”—his gaze falls back on me—“well…she’s not the quiet type.”
He isn’t telling me anything new. I rub the ache and tic that’s attacking my jaw. “Thanks, and I’m sorry for any trouble she’s caused.”
“Don’t take this wrong, kid, but if I were you, I’d take your friend, find your mom, and move along as quickly as possible. There are some folks here who don’t get along with strangers, and I don’t need any trouble.”
“Not fond of trouble myself,” Leo pipes up. “We’ll be out of here before you know it.”
“See that it happens.” The cop’s lips thin and he nudges his horse with his heels. “On with you, Raisin.”
The horse gently moves through the crowd and away from us.
I look to Leo. “Aren’t small towns supposed to be friendly?”
“Not to sons and friends of criminals. Hey, bro, at least he was up-front with us.”
We get back to the car and find someone has keyed the driver’s side from bumper to bumper. Leo runs his fingers along the scratch. “Poor thing. What did they do to you? Did you see this, Dylan?”
“Forget about it,” I snap and wrench open the car door. This town may look nice, but at its heart it’s meaner than mean. “Let’s find Mom and go.”
Leo grumbles over the scratch as he gets in the car and we slowly inch our way down the street and turn left on Firehouse Road. Three stop signs later, we’re at the corner of Third and Firehouse Lane and staring at the brightly colored sign for Fisted Ink Tattoos. In the window a sign advertises that as well as inking tattoos, Augustus is qualified to remove them. Smart move. We park and go inside.
A buzzer sounds throughout the salon when we walk in. The place is clean, but there’s damage to a nearby wall and ink is splattered on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling near the tattoo chair. It had to be the work of Mom. She knows how to rip a place apart in no time flat. We stand there looking around until a big man in a cowboy hat, boots, and a silver belt buckle in the shape of a large fist lumbers into view. “Are you two lost?”
Leo and I exchange questioning looks, and I turn back to the man. “Are you Augustus Allen?”
“I am.” He puts his hands on his hips in a way that gobbles up half the space in the room.
The guy has the look of a barroom brawler, but I hold my ground. “I’m Dylan Kennedy. I’m looking for Addison Kennedy. We were told she was here.”
“What are you, her brother?”
“Her son.”
He laughs. “No shit. Well, she’s not here, sonny boy, and I’m not sorry she left.” He takes a big breath, filling his lungs for the tongue-lashing I’m about to endure. I wish I could say this is new to me, but it’s not. “Your mom is one crazy chick. She comes in with some sob story about this tat she has and can I please remove it. It was stubborn, but for three weeks, once a week, I fade it. Looked pretty good, too. Then a couple of days ago, she comes tripping in here all high on God knows what and demands her money back. Shows me the tat is still visible. Actually getting darker. She says I didn’t do it right. What am I supposed to do? Skin her? I told her that was one hell of a tat. Deeper than most. That it didn’t come off clean…how’s that my fault?”
Mom has one tattoo. A black-and-white dragon that flows over her right hip and down her stomach. A guy she used to date called it a “come and get it” tattoo. I never did like that guy. I always thought the tattoo was cool-looking, stylized with sweeping strokes and a lot of detail.
“Then I’m thinking, I’m getting scammed. Tats don’t get darker after I lighten them. I accuse her of putting a little permanent marker to it and she goes off on me, throwing shit around, hitting me…” He waves his hand to the damage surrounding us. “So I call the cops.”
“But you bailed her out,” I remind him.
“Yeah, well, I ain’t heartless, not after I seen where she was living, out of her car over at the park. I’ve been down on my luck before. Took me ten years to clean up my act. So I gave her a break. I brought her back here. We had a little fun, then she rolled me and hightailed it out of here.”
First she steals from Grandpa and now this guy? She’s never been this stupid. What’s wrong with her? “How much?”
“I don’t know how she got into my safe, but she took fifty-three hundred dollars, a few collectors’ coins worth a couple hundred each, and a gold nugget I found when I was ten. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. That nugget was my childhood, man. My luck. Without it, I feel…”
He stops speaking, unable to find the right word.
“Vulnerable,” Leo offers.
His anger softens and he nods. “Yeah.”
I pull out my wallet and hand him the cash Grandma gave me. “I don’t know how much it is, but it’s all I have.”
He looks from me to Leo and down at the money in my outstretched hand. “I could take that from you, but I won’t. I’m pissed, but it’s at your mom. Not you. Some of us got a raw deal when it comes to parents. So…keep it.”
“Do you know where she went?”
He lets out a deep snort. “Sin City. That’s all she talked about when I was running the laser over her hip bone.”
Mom in Las Vegas? That doesn’t sound like a good idea. “Thanks.” I stuff the money back into my wallet and shove it in my back pocket again. “I don’t know what to say except…I’m sorry. She’s got problems.”
“Don’t we all?”
I close my eyes and search for what I want. Leo nudges me after I stand there, motionless, breathless, as though I’ve forgotten where I am and what to do. “Dylan. We got to go.”
My eyes pop open. “Yeah.” I catch Augustus’s eye. “Thanks again.”
When we get back into the car, Leo turns to me. “You did something, didn’t you? That’s why you just stood there imitating a statue. It was weird, bro. Just saying.”
“I had to give him something.”
“What’d you do?”
“I found a deep vein of gold running under his business and pulled a chunk to the surface near the edge of his car’s front tire.”
As we back into the street, Leo cranes his neck until he sees a huge chunk of gold beside the front tire of Augustus’s car. That form of magic, the one where I only have to think it and it happens, still surprises me. The more I use it, the better it works.
Leo leans back and drives on, shaking his head. “Just a nugget? I’ve got news for you, that’s a
stinking
big
rock.”
“A fist-sized one, actually. I thought it was fitting.”
Leo points the car toward the two-lane road leading out of Willow Creek and toward the interstate. “I hope he finds it.”
“I made sure only he will.”
Leo puckers his lips and nods as we roll out of town. “Well played.”
It’s the least I can do to fix the damage Mom has caused.