Round Trip Fare Page 4
Well, damn.
»»•««
Over the months after her casts finally came off, Carey’s life settled back into routine. Most days saw her up early for a run followed by a couple hours of workouts in the barn, which housed—along with horses—a climbing wall, training room, and a huge practice area lined with rubber mats. She’d spar with Simeon or the two new Leftfeet, Paul and Remy, who had showed up to work with her on codes and ciphers, but who turned out to be parkour and rock-climbing enthusiasts. Both were young, intense geeks, and surprisingly competent at returning Carey’s snark with interest. She told herself she was only hoping they would stay longer because she hadn’t beaten them yet.
After practice, she’d breakfast with Connor. Then one of the Leftfeet would drive them the ten miles into Whitman for school, where the worst part of her day would begin. She marveled at Connor’s ability to know just what to say to everybody he met. He was like Harry that way. Everyone liked him, wanted to be around him, ready to like what he liked, even if that meant accepting his snarky, socially inept sister. So she was always surrounded as well—but only because of Connor.
She would have preferred to slip away to the library, but she had to protect her brother. Luckily, she no longer had to beat up other students. Now she protected him from himself. She knew the signs of his overload, and was always there to steer him away for a few minutes of calm. As Connor worked with Marley to unlock his abilities, Carey’s worries increased. Her brother’s gift seemed to be growing in strength faster than his ability to control it. She remembered the feeling of burning up from the inside when he tried to help after her fall.
Marley seemed unconcerned with Connor’s increasingly shaky control. While Carey spent after-school hours on weapons and strength training, her brother worked with Marley to increase his range and his effect on the senses or emotions of others. Then he would go off to Harry’s new barn to practice whatever exercise Marley had set, and it would be Carey’s turn. She thought she was getting better at seeing the connections, but she could tell Marley was disappointed—hell, she was frustrated herself—with her inability to use those connections to plan strategic moves.
She would have discussed her worries with Harry, but he was gone for increasingly long periods. He’d arrive back at the ranch, too exhausted even to spar with her.
Weeks passed as the late Northwest spring lengthened the days. Finally the night came when she heard Harry come home after she was in bed. His steps hesitated outside her door, but before she could get up he was gone. Looking through her window, she saw the lights in Marley’s cabin come on. They were still burning when Carey finally fell asleep. But when she came home from school to an empty house, Simeon told her Harry was already gone again.
Okay, Carey decided. Enough was damn well enough. Her chin came up, and she went to the barn find Connor. She loved the new structure with its beautiful posts soaring to the haylofts under the beams of the high roof. Most days she trained under its shelter, either with Harry or any of the Leftfeet who were around. Now she smiled as she drew near the barn and heard the yips of the new litter of puppies. Stepping inside, she inhaled the smell of horses, leather, and hay.
Growing up on a ranch, she was used to the cycle of new puppies and kittens. But this litter was special. She’d always loved the Australian shepherds. Working dogs, those Aussies seemed completely in tune with their shepherds, more like partners than pets as they handled the sheep. Now Harry had promised one to her. She loved all of them, but the little guy with the white paws and spot over one eye had stolen her heart. Whenever she had a free moment, she slipped into the barn to play with him, as well as his brothers and sisters.
Seeing Connor sitting on the floor, she was about to call him when the intensity of his focus and stillness stopped her. One of the puppies, out of his basket, lay on his side and whined softly. Connor’s gaze was intent, arms locked, fist clenched. “Walk to me. Walk. Over. To me. Walk. Now.”
The pup lurched onto too-big floppy white paws, and staggered toward him. But its gait was stumbling, the whimpers increased, and the little eye in the white patch of fur was fixed and terrified. Carey heard the pup’s mother growling and clawing, and saw that she was leashed to a post. The puppy’s moans became agonized yelps as it staggered toward Connor.
“Connor?” Carey’s voice was barely audible. She swallowed and tried louder. “Connor!” No response. She saw the puppy fall over, shuddering. Racing to her brother, she grabbed his shoulder and shook, screaming his name. He shivered, and focused on her, shaking his head.
She was gasping his name as she stumbled back over to the puppy, now lying still. She picked him up and listened for a heartbeat. Nothing. Gently, she blew into the little mouth. Again. Again. And again and again. At last, she felt a flutter, tiny paws quivering. She placed the puppy back in his basket and released the frantic mother. Finally she moved back around and sat cross-legged, facing her brother. She took huge breaths, trying to still her heaving stomach.
“Connor. What happened?”
“I was practicing. Trying to increase my range and control.”
“Why? Connor, you almost killed that puppy.” Her voice shook, her arms and legs still trembling with shock.
“You and I have a test coming, and I’m not ready.” His voice was raw, as if the words clawed their way past his lips. “Everything depends on us capturing the next pivot point, but I can’t even control my harmonia gift. If I don’t learn, I’ll be a danger to everyone around me, and I refuse to hurt you again. But, Carey, think. If I can do this, get stronger, get more precise—think what that will mean. I can fix people. Repair their bodies, fix their minds. Think of what that would mean for the world!” His eyes were shining, but she noticed his arms were also trembling.
“But…” So many things were wrong here. “You didn’t even use your gift to try to save that puppy when you almost killed him.” She reached over and put her shaking hand on his wrist, over their yarn bracelet. “Connor, this isn’t who you are. It couldn’t be.”
He shrugged off her hand. “Marley says I have to keep working or the gift will destroy me and those I love. I don’t have a choice because you have to be okay. I will never hurt you again.” Reaching for his wrist, he untied the bracelet and tried to hand it to her. “Never, Carey.”
Pushed. They’ve pushed you too far, Twin. Desperation in his voice had her searching for connections even as her stomach heaved and bile rose in her throat. She gave him back the bracelet. “I don’t think this is what Gaby wanted for you. Connor, this can’t be the right way.”
He looked at the bracelet and put it into his pocket. She saw him look at the puppies, and for a moment something flashed in his eyes. Shame? Regret? “Maybe you’re right, Midget. I’ll go talk to Marley.”
When he left the barn, she went back over to the basket of puppies. The little guy she’d rescued seemed fine. She played with them all for a few minutes. Where are you Harry? I really need to talk to you.
»»•««
That night after Carey finished her homework and the latest strategy “game” Marley had given her, she went back to her room for the last exercise of the day, the one she assigned to herself. From the padded seat in her window, she looked at the clear night sky, so much brighter than the stars over Bainbridge Island. Connections, she thought. What are the connections for the second pivot point?
She closed her eyes, picturing the multiple levels of her mental game board. On one level, she saw Gaby and Luic, along with two dark figures. Not dead! For a moment she couldn’t breathe in the rush of relief at seeing her sister in her connections for the first time since their parting at the Null City Metro. Gaby was alive…somewhere. She had to tell…Connor? Harry? Even as she leaped to her feet, she paused, recognizing there was no help there for her. Closing her eyes and calling up her board again, she saw Marley on another level, grappling with a dark-haired stranger. Try as she might, there was no hint of Harry or Raziel or…her breath
blew out on a gasp…Connor.
She opened her eyes as a light spilled from Marley’s door across the yard from her window. In the light, she saw a figure who looked like the dark stranger fighting with Marley in her connections game board. Without a word, Marley held the door for him to enter, and then closed it behind him.
Carey stared for a heartbeat, then leaped for her discarded jeans and black hooded sweatshirt. She shoved feet into soft-soled boots, automatically sliding her knife into the boot’s interior sheath. Her sword was slung over her back, and she patted several shuriken into inside pockets. Briefly she hesitated over her little purple gun, but she kept it unloaded, and it would have taken too long to retrieve the bullets from their storage box in her little safe.
Turning out all lights in her room, she went through the connecting door to Connor’s room. He was sleeping, and she paused before pulling his curtains shut and letting herself out the french doors opening onto the courtyard. Framed on three sides by the house, it was open to the rear and to Marley’s cottage.
She took the time to circle around from the back of Marley’s house where there were no lights. Crouched under the living room window, she listened for the murmur of voices. Silently rising to clear the bottom windowsill, she pressed her ear to the glass and squinted through the small crack in the blinds.
“No!” Marley’s voice was low but intense. “I’ve never questioned any job you’ve given me. But you haven’t been here, and you can’t know the situation.” To Carey’s shock, the usually serene Marley had her arms crossed across her chest, face white except for two spots of color on her high cheekbones. “If I push that boy any harder, he’ll break. Is that what you want?”
The man with his back to the window had a voice that was musical and gentle, with a faint accent Carey couldn’t place. “I have no wish to see harm come to either of the children. But you know what’s at stake. If we don’t get to Raziel first, they could use the power in his Book to unmake Creation. Would you put the children’s comfort above that?”
Crossing to her table so her back was to both Carey and the stranger, Marley asked very low, “What about Harry?”
The stranger moved to watch Marley’s face, giving Carey her first real glimpse of him. Long, slightly wavy dark hair hung to his shoulders. His face was…perfect. Blue eyes, high cheekbones, elegantly haughty nose. His voice continued, gentle, emotionless. “We both know the bargain Hadriel made in order to come here. His allotted time is almost up.”
Pressed against the window, Carey heard an intake of breath, too soft to be a sob. Marley’s voice dropped even lower. “I understand. I’ll speak with the children tomorrow.”
Carey peered cautiously around the edge of the porch as an inverted L of light seamed the door. In the fraction of a second before the light was turned off, she saw his tall figure, and realized that his handsome unlined face reminded her of Marley somehow. If Marley was a statue.
Carey watched as he strode away and was about to follow when the door opened again and the porch light came on. “You may as well come in, Carey.”
»»•««
Waking Connor was never easy, so while she waited for him to shrug into his jeans and a sweatshirt, Carey filled him in on Marley’s visitor. His face lit up when she told him about seeing Gaby on her connections board. Picking her up, he swung her around. But when she told him about Marley’s visitor saying that Harry’s time was nearly up, Connor froze for a moment, eyes mirroring the shock in her own. Then he gave a shaky nod. “Remember how I told you Harry’s life-string had a cutoff point? This fits.”
She shivered, pushing close to her brother as they headed to the big farmhouse kitchen where Marley was waiting. Their bedrooms were in one arm of the U-shaped house, so often they cut across the courtyard to reach the kitchen in the opposite arm. But tonight, by unspoken agreement, they crossed through the long living area furnished with its comfortable range of leather sofas and overlapping oriental rugs facing the huge river rock fireplace. They paused before Harry’s dark room, then turned together to the kitchen.
A yawning Connor insisted on making hot chocolate before he would let them proceed. As she waited, Carey watched their reflections in the kitchen’s big front window and wondered if Gaby would even recognize them. On her connections board, Gaby had looked a few years older than Carey remembered, even more beautiful than ever despite the worried look on her face. But by the window’s reflection, neither she nor Connor looked like the twelve-year-olds Gaby had left crying at the Null City Metro Station. Connor was tall—really tall, she realized. He’d always called her Midget, but now that he was several inches over six feet, the old nickname seemed more appropriate. He was still too thin for his height, and seemed to be all angles with big hands and feet. The dark hair that Gaby used to cut, frequently but badly, was always too long now and usually a mess. Girls at school would try to push it behind his ears.
Marley sat as if carved from stone, face serene and blue eyes cold. Her straight back didn’t make contact with the back of her chair, and her perfect cap of blonde hair looked like it had just been styled. When did she do her hair? Between them, Carey’s own reflection showed a skinny girl, waist-length dark hair skewered by the inevitable shuriken into a messy twist, and big dark eyes that made people nervous. Eric, one of the Leftfeet who refused to spar with her after the last time she’d beaten him with a practice sword, said his cat’s eyes looked like that just before it pounced and killed something. She wasn’t fond of Eric, but she thought she might have liked his cat.
When Connor set a steaming mug before each of them, Marley moved to the other side of the counter to consider the twins sitting across from her. “We don’t know when Harry will be back. He only left yesterday, but he was gone for almost a month last time and usually we can’t contact him. My…associate…thinks that with your gifts, you might have better luck, either searching for Harry or for Raziel.”
“Marley.” Carey looked at Connor for a moment before continuing. “We’re sixteen. I can hit a target with almost any weapon you hand me. Connor can sense emotions. But we haven’t graduated from high school. We can’t even drive yet. How are we supposed to rescue Harry or Raziel?”
Marley smiled. “One step at a time.”
Connor reached for Carey’s hand. He looked at her, and she didn’t need his gift to know what her twin was thinking. Gaby is alive, and she told us to stay with Harry. He squeezed her hand and then shook his head.
“No.” She tightened the fingers twined with her brother’s hand and turned back to Marley. “No, we’re not going to take the task. Our sister wanted us to stay with Harry, so we’re going to do just that. He’ll expect us to be here. Connor is going to U-Dub in Seattle. And I’m going to try for that new Academy the Accords Agency is setting up. So if Gaby and Luic ever come back…” She paused and took a breath. “When Gaby and Luic and Harry come back, we’ll be right here.”
Marley nodded. She didn’t seem surprised. “Well, good night, then.”
Chapter Four
2003: St. Helens Ranch, Eastern Washington State
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Carey’s grin was a match for the one on Connor’s face as the two left the local driver’s license facility and headed for Whitman’s small main street ahead. In the two weeks since their late-night hot chocolate with Marley, her brother had backed off his training and visibly relaxed. She’d even spied a shamefaced Connor sneaking treats and toys to the barn puppies.
Now he actually laughed as he reached for her license to get a better look at the black-and-white picture on her temporary license. “Nice glare. You look like America’s Most Wanted Midget.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be showing that picture to Sarah Anders if I were you. Your smile looks like someone about to carve up the teenagers going into the scary abandoned house at Halloween. Even your groupies at school might hesitate.” She glanced up at her twin. His usually severe face was alight with mischief, his too-long hai
r falling into his eyes, while his tall figure loomed over her. She sighed. “No, I don’t think anything would discourage your fan club.”
Connor held her license out of her reach. “You know what this means?”
“Ice cream sundaes and I pick the toppings, because I got mine first.” Carey made a successful leap to retrieve her new license, visibly gloating over yet another victory in the ice-cream wars from their childhood. Their sister Gaby could rarely afford treats, so the careful choice of ice-cream toppings was a negotiated and hoarded triumph.
“Only because that guy at the counter was going alphabetically, and Carey comes before Connor,” her brother countered. “I passed my test first so I should get to pick toppings.”
Carey looked around. “Where’s Marley with the jeep?”
Connor looked puzzled. “She was having coffee across the street, and the jeep was here at the curb after your test. I don’t get it.”
She checked her phone and frowned. No messages, and it was almost four o’clock.
Connor pulled out his phone. “I turned it off for my test.” As it came online, his phone beeped for a missed call. “Marley.” He turned on the speaker, and their two dark heads bent over the phone.
“Connor.” As always, Marley’s voice was calm on the voicemail recording. “I’ve had a message from Harry, so I’m heading back to the ranch. I’ll have one of the Leftfeet pick you two up.”
Carey looked at the timestamp. “That was almost an hour ago. Our ride should have been here by now.”
By the time they had walked the four-block length of Whitman’s little main street, trying several times on their cellphones to reach Marley or one of the Leftfeet, Carey’s connections were flaring. She tried picturing her game board, but all she got were chaotic images of Harry, Marley, and dark figures flashing in and out. Connor, his emotions amplified by her worries, was just as upset. They stopped at Whitmore’s Feed Store and borrowed a pair of horses from Harry’s friends there. Although a much shorter distance than by road, it still took more than an hour and a half to ride overland, and despite the longer spring daylight, gray clouds overhead cast lengthening shadows by the time they came up the last hill to the ridge above the St. Helens Ranch. The glow beyond was unmistakable. They didn’t need to hear the roar of sound to know that their home had become a battleground.