Chapter Thirteen
I didn't catch up with Sam until lunch on Friday. I'd seen her in the halls with a large stack of books cradled in her arms, weaving through the crowds with a hurried deftness. She showed up in History moments before the tardy bell and was the first one to leave. She'd smile and wave, but rushed off in the direction of the library before I had a chance to get so much as a word in.
Sam sat alone at our usual table. One hand held a hardcover open on the tabletop while the other shoveled florescent-orange nachos into her mouth. She didn't see me approaching.
"Hey."
Startled, Sam jumped and her elbow landed squarely in the plastic container of pasteurized cheese product. "Oh man."
"Sorry." I grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser at the center of the table and passed them over. "Does cheese stain?"
"Don't worry about it." Sam dabbed gingerly at the fabric of her sweater, but the orange blot refused to budge. She threw the dirty napkins onto her tray and closed the book. "I'm done anyway."
I pushed the soggy mass of chips and cheese away with one finger. "School lunch not doing it for you, huh?"
Sam slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and half-rose from the table. "I need to head to the library before next period. I'll see you later."
"Hey, wait." I couldn't tell if Sam was angry or upset. She studied me with a gaze that was very carefully pleasant. I missed her normal chatter. "I brought you something."
"Oh." She gave me a neutral smile and sat gingerly on the bench of the lunch table. She gave her watch a surreptitious glance. "That's really sweet."
I dug in my bag. Momentary hesitation made my fingers grip the leather volume without pulling it out. What I was doing was so foreign to the nature of my family that I couldn't think of a single instance of it happening before. Family secrets belonged in the family. Knowledge was part of our power. Power was everything.
My fingers brushed the fingers of the other book I still kept secreted away in my backpack. An electric current ran through me, threatening to stop my heart. Knowledge was power.
I forced myself to pull out Hagal's book and the bag of rune stones with it. I placed them in the center of the table between us and forced a cheerful smile. Sam would never understand the significance of what I was doing.
"Here."
She reached for the slim book with a confused smile. Flipping it open, her eyebrows rose in surprise at the cramped text and spidery symbols. "What is it?"
"It belonged to my great aunt. She used it to cast runes."
"Runes?"
I took the book and held open the first page. "It's like fortune telling. Each symbol represents a letter of the divine alphabet." I closed the book and slid it across the table, ignoring the voice in my head that wouldn't shut up about the trouble this gift was about to rain down on both of us. "I thought you might be into it."
Sam finally gave me a real smile. "I am. Thank you." She picked up the book and tucked it gently into the front pocket of her bag.
"Don't forget the rune stones." I pushed the leather bag towards her. "The book's useless without them."
Sam took the bag into her hands and her eyes widened. "It's warm."
I felt a small twinge of unease. "Maybe it's magic."
"Now you're just making fun of me."
"I brought you the book, didn't I?"
Her smile was sheepish. "So you don't think I'm crazy."
If Sam was crazy then I was due for a straightjacket and shock therapy. "Not even a little bit."
"I just really feel like there's something out there, something bigger than me, you know." She rested her chin in her palms as her voice took on a dreamy quality. "I always believed."
Guilt was not a new emotion for me but this was the first time I'd ever felt like I was playing a trick on someone. No matter how much I wanted a human confidante, my friendship with Sam wasn't enough to overcome a lifetime of my family's brainwashing. What good is power that everyone has?
I might lead Sam in the right direction but I couldn't tell her everything. I wasn't strong enough to face the consequences.
"Mind if I join you?"
Zach stood behind her, a loaded lunch tray balanced in his hands. Sam raised an eyebrow, but moved down to make room. I shot her a look that I hope conveyed a promise of more information later if she didn't embarrass me too much now.
"What's up?" Zach asked as he sat down.
"Not much," Sam answered, pleasantly.
"Hi." My voice broke. What was wrong with me?
I wasn't prepared to see Zach again so soon. I remembered his kiss—the soft sweetness of his lips against mine. He made me think of silly things like picket fences and rolling fields of blooming daisies—all things I couldn't have.
"Any plans for the weekend?" Zach asked.
Aside from the saving the world, or at least my world? Not much. "Just some family stuff."
"Really?" Sam broke in, sounding disappointed. "I wanted to hang out and show you some of my research. Are you busy all weekend."
"Pretty much." The thought of the very human Sam anywhere near a Wayward celebration more than scared the hell out of me. Virgin sacrifice would be the least of her worries. "Maybe we can get together next week." Late next week after all our guests had crawled back under their respective rocks.
"That's fine, whatever." Sam wrenched her tray off the table, sending her plate of congealed nachos sliding precariously before she righted it. "I've got to go."
She stomped away.
Zach watched her leave. "Is she mad at you?"
"I guess so," I said with a sigh.
He popped open a container of yogurt and licked the lid. "Family stuff sounds fun."
Yeah right. "You have no idea." I found myself wanting to talk more than I knew I should. "I guess it's like a reunion, or something."
"Sounds cool. Do you have a lot of relatives?"
"Thousands." Representatives from every family would come to celebrate End-of-Winter. Actual attendees would probably only number in the hundreds. If I was lucky.
He slanted me a look that said he didn't believe me. "That's a lot of family."
"I'm the youngest of seven."
"You have six brothers and sisters!" He laughed, but his expression was shocked.
"Yeah." I was inexplicably proud of ruffling him. "Marco, Magdalen and Marise are the eldest. Then there's my brother, Silus, and the twins, Adrian and Aislynn?"
"Wow," he whistled. "I thought only really religious people and hillbillies still had big families like that. I'm an only child."
I thought of Marco, who was probably right now sitting in my parent's house and plotting something unfortunate. End-of-Winter was less than twenty-f hours away.
Zach was giving me an odd look. "You're lucky," I murmured.
"Not close, then?" His voice made it a question.
Aislynn conjured hissing snakes into my pigtails as I blew out the candles on the cake at my seventh birthday party. "Close enough."
"Maybe I'll get to meet your brothers and sisters sometime," he continued.
Not if I could help it. "They've all moved on. We don't get together much."
"Doesn't matter." He shrugged. "I'm mostly just interested in you."
I stared very hard at the table. Heat rose in my face as my cheeks reddened. I prayed that he didn't notice.
"The Natural History Museum has got a great exhibition of native art going on right now. We should check it out next weekend, if you're not busy." His voice was casual.
"What, like a date?" I risked a peek at his face and his eyes hadn't left mine. My blush deepened.
"Not if you don't want it to be." He waggled his eyebrows at me and I laughed. "We're friends, right?"
Friendship was a dangerous thing. But I liked his smile. I didn't want to see it fade away. "Right."
"If one friend wants to take another to the Natural History Museum, then it's alright." He idly stirred the gravy into his mashed potatoes
with a plastic spork. "And if that first friend wants to kiss his new friend a couple of times, just to show her how much their friendship means to him, then that's probably cool too, right?"
I smiled through my sudden sadness. "One step at a time, hotshot."
There was so much about normal life that I didn't understand. I didn't know anything about love. I was nothing like an average teenage girl, falling in and out of puppy love like the tides pushed the ocean. My family taught me obligation. Valentine taught me obsession. I didn't know anything about love.
The first bell echoed hollowly off the cinderblock walls. Zach shot up and grabbed one more huge bite of Salisbury steak before grabbing his plate. "Later," he said, voice garbled around a mouthful of food. "Have fun this weekend."
I gave him a limp wave as he disappeared through the lunch crowd.
The cafeteria emptied quickly, but I took my time scraping my lunch tray and dumping it into the plastic bins. Salisbury steak, with its congealed layer of fat, slid slowly off the plate and I had to pry the mashed potatoes off with a fork.
I looked up to see Cynthie standing in the doorway next to a poster for the winter formal. I sighed. The day was getting better and better.
She approached me with a smirk. "Ooh la la. I think love is in the air."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're braver than I thought, actually. Taking up with a human is bad for your health."
I expected to see her perma-posse round the corner to back her up, but Cynthie was uncharacteristically alone. None of the other girls were anywhere to be seen. It was unnerving. "Did you want something in particular or are you just out spreading sunshine, like usual?"
"I saw you with him. So sweet." There was a dangerous note in her voice.
"Zach and I are friends. You should try it sometime."
Her eyes narrowed and she reached back, slamming closed the double doors that separated the lunchroom from the hallway beyond. The metal and wood crashed together so loudly that I jumped in surprise.
It reminded me forcibly of our meeting in Chicago—Cynthie all force and fury and me defenseless. Things had changed.
"End-of-Winter is only a night away." She advanced slowly, a cruel smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Should we invite your little friend? He looks like so much fun to play with."
Fear curled its way through the pit of my stomach but I stood my ground. If I couldn't at least face down Cynthie, then I would stand no chance with the other families. "Cut the crap. I don't want to be late for class."
"So go then." Her voice was even.
I wouldn't turn my back on her. We both knew which one of us was stronger. "What do you want?"
"I know about your deal."
My heart stopped. "What deal?" I asked and tried to sound nonchalant.
"I really thought I'd get the pleasure of killing you," she continued casually. "And then you paid your bloodprice." She spit the words out in the same a way a normal person would talk about clubbing baby seals. Being robbed of the chance to murder me was apparently akin to the world's greatest injustice.
I was silent.
Her face pressed so close to mine that I could feel her breath against my face, hot with the force of her anger. "Everything comes back around, eventually. Remember that."
The tardy bell rang and it was distant as if the sound came from another world. "Get in line." I moved forward, forcing Cynthie to step aside or have me run into her.
I pushed open the double doors and her voice trailed after me into the hallway.
"Watch your back."
Sam ignored me for the rest of the day. She looked away when I saw her in the hallway during the break between Calculus and Band. I slammed my locker closed a little too hard when she walked by with her head deliberately turned the other way. The bang startled a pair of seniors necking by the janitor's closet and they shot me very dirty looks. My talent for alienating the people around me was becoming finely honed.
I even scanned the parking lot at the end of the day for Zach's motorcycle but the Harley was already gone. Apparently, simple friendship would only take us so far.
I drove home slowly. For once, I didn't mind the heavy afternoon traffic on the interchange or the slow crawl of rush hour. My house seemed peaceful on its isolated hill when I pulled through the gate.
No storm clouds gathered in an ominous cluster over the roof. If a sinkhole, leading straight to the pits of hell, had appeared in the front yard, I couldn't see it from our driveway. Winter sun cast gentle light through the air and I could even see bits of color in the grass where spring flowers were beginning to bloom. It was a beautiful scene that did nothing for my mood.
Most of the families wouldn't arrive for another day, I reminded myself. There was no choice. I had to handle this.
I didn't even make it to the front door.
Marise sat on the porch swing, her feet barely brushed the ground as she swayed with the breeze. Everyone always likened her to a porcelain doll. Her hands and feet that were exquisitely small proportions like a woodland sprite.
She did everything in her power to enhance that illusion of delicacy, favoring loose dresses and full skirts that wrapped her tiny frame in layers of linen and lace. Finely boned bare feet that seemed impervious to the chill wind peeked out from under ruffles of fabric.
I couldn't see her face behind a fall of chestnut curls but I knew what I'd find. Deceptive eyes—clear blue like ocean waves—that invited unwary men to dive into their depths and drown. Her pink, Cupid-bowed lips spoke the prettiest lies.
She looked up as I approached, her gaze coquettish and her smile feral.
"Helena." She held up her arms like a small child wanting to be picked up. My sister's voice was like cubes of ice tinkling in a crystal glass—sweet and cold.
"Marise." I leaned over the swing to embrace her. My body felt large and ungainly as we embraced, her form too slight in my arms. Marise was like Helen of Troy, inspiring legions of men to do battle for her honor. She cast a long shadow.
"I've missed you." Her bones dug into my skin as we hugged. "Remember how much fun we used to have."
I suppressed a shiver. I wasn't a child anymore and Marise didn't frighten me. There were much worse things going bump in the night.
"I'm very upset with you, sister dear."
My arms crossed over my chest and I resisted the urge to sigh. Marise made no move to make room on the porch swing. She wanted me to feel like a supplicant to her queen on a gilded throne. "Why is that?"
"So much time and you never come to visit. We miss you."
Marise worked Taipei, encouraging unrest against the Communist Chinese government while simultaneously smuggling Taiwanese national artifacts to shady dealers on the mainland. I wouldn't dare go within one hundred miles of her power center, even if my Mandarin was any good.
"How's Buppy?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Oh he's fabulous." Marise clapped her hands together in childish excitement. "I'll show you pictures. My little baby grows so fast. He eats everything in sight."
Buppy was a 250-pound white tiger that my sister treated like a beloved housecat. He'd been a gift from the Chinese president after a group of eco-activists mysteriously disappeared from a logging site outside the Forbidden City. Buppy always had a ring of dried blood around his mouth, hopefully from the whole pheasants he ate as an afternoon snack and not something more sinister.
Everyone but Marise gave him a wide berth. My mother wouldn't allow him in the house.
I affected a look of great shock. "You left him alone?"
"Of course not." Her expression was scandalized. "I found a sitter."
I could only imagine the look of horror on the poor nanny's face when she met the creature Marise described as her "bouncing baby boy".
Marise scooted to one side of the swing and patted the seat next to her. "Come sit with me, little sister."
There was little choice but to obey. I lowered my
self gingerly onto the seat, careful not to touch her as I settled myself into the swing—not that the distance could do anything to protect me.
She smelled faintly of vanilla and cedar. I wondered if it was a small glamour or just really nice perfume. My second-oldest sister had always been a master of the personal magics. She could make herself seem like anything to anyone.
Marcus and Magdalen were like the sun, their power bold and unmistakable. Marise, youngest by less than a minute, shone like the palest moon. Her magic crept past your senses like a forgotten thought. I never quite figured out which was more dangerous.
I focused on her voice. It was as if she spoke from underwater or from miles away. I shook my head to clear it. Recognizing her magic was little protection against it.
"Mother insisted we come for End-of-Winter." Her face held no emotion. "A proper welcome home for the baby of the family."
"Should I be expecting a true family reunion?" I kept my voice carefully neutral. The thought of confronting all my siblings at once shook me to the core.
"I doubt it. Marco and I are the best Mother could do on such short notice."
Relief swept through me. "Mother is sentimental."
Her eyes flashed. "You're not sentimental, are you Helena?"
I felt like a movie hero about to cut the red wire on a bomb that ticked seconds away from zero. "No. I'm not."
She laughed. I winced at the sound. "I love a good party," she murmured.
I mumbled something unintelligible and stood. Dealing with Marise was like navigating a minefield. She didn't follow me into the house and I sent a quick blessing to the Goddess.
My relief was short-lived. I pushed open the French doors and was met by a veritable circus.
The caterers had arrived. Workers in pressed uniforms scurried through the foyer, pushing stacks of warming trays. I dodged an aproned minion wielding a stack of table linens as she careened towards the dining room .The house was full-on pandemonium.
My mother stood in the center of it all, issuing orders like a better-coifed General Patton. All she lacked was a backdrop of the American flag and a war to fight.
It should have been easy to sneak past her, busy as Leonora was. I was confident in my ability to blend in with the faceless lackeys sent in to remake our suburban house in the Hollywood Hills into my mother's version of a springtime wonderland.
"Helena Xanthe Wayward."
Her voice cracked like a whip and I froze in my tracks.
My mother was suddenly in front of me, her critical gaze taking in my dusty school clothes and unwashed hair hanging messily around my face. "Where have you been, young lady? School released over an hour ago."
I opened my mouth to answer but she beat me to it.
"Tonight is the midnight dinner, our guests will begin arriving at any moment. There is a dress laid out on your bed, go upstairs and put it on." She made a gesture that took in my hair and scrubbed face. "And do something with all of that."
"Mother—"
She cut me off. "If you are not back down here in thirty minutes then I will send Marise upstairs to help you along."
That threat was enough. I practically raced upstairs. The only thing that stopped me from undressing as I sprinted down the hallway was the presence of the Sweet Sun Valley catering service.
Even with the threat of spending more quality time with my sister looming over my head, I took my time in the shower. As the water cascaded down my head and back, I imagined that it washed part of me away. All of the fear and uncertainty swept down the drain like the suds from my shampoo. Something new was left behind.
Leaving the towel on the floor for the maid, I approached the bed with a sigh. My mother was amazing in her manic attention for detail. She'd laid out a complete outfit for me, down to underwear and an appropriate pair of shoes.
I pulled the dress roughly over my head and winced at the strained sound the thread made as I stretched the fabric. Leonora would not be happy if I came downstairs with a ripped seam. I smoothed it down and turned to face the mirror.
Made of a light chiffon, the dress was low-cut and fitted in front with an empire waist that flowed gently into a knee-length skirt. The shimmering fabric was the color of sun-kissed wheat and brought out the flecks of gold in my eyes.
If there was one thing my mother knew: it was fashion. Leonora would disapprove but I shook my hair out over my shoulders, letting it curl as it dried.
The face that stared back at me was pale and drawn, with eyes too hard to be so young. I wondered, as I often did, if I could have done something differently—been someone different. It didn't seem to bother Marise who she hurt. Marco never sat down and pondered the nature of good and evil. They knew exactly who they were.
Valentine's necklace sat on top of the dresser. The star at its center winked in the light, as if we shared a secret. I slipped the chain over my head. The pendant came to rest in the gentle curve of my collarbone, heavy and cool against my skin.
I turned away from the mirror with a small sigh. There was no room for regrets. End-of-Winter had begun.