earshot, Harold said, “Come on. We’re following them.”
“What?” Dmitri raised his eyebrows. “Why are we doing that?”
“We have to find out what Brendan is up to. He’s been weird for weeks. Ever since I woke up and found these drawings in my sketchbook.” Harold held up the dogeared sketchpad he carried with him everywhere now. “You know I don’t remember doing these. I’m sure I did them on the day we lost!” He flipped the pages for Dmitri to see. There were pictures of Brendan floating in the air borne by seagulls, tiny people with wings, and a terrifying woman surrounded by a nimbus of lightning. “These are the best drawings I’ve ever done. I showed them to Brendan and he said I have an amazing imagination. But they aren’t from my imagination! I know this stuff really happened, and I think somehow we were made to forget it. You lost that day, too. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
Dmitri frowned and nodded. “I guess so.”
“We’ve gotta find out what the deal is with Brendan.” Harold grabbed Dmitri by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “First he blows off our study session and now this ‘cousin’ shows up? It just gets weirder and weirder.”
“I think you are having a conspirority complex,” Dmitri said, gathering up his books.
“It’s inferiority complex,” Harold said. “But I think you mean conspiracy theory… either way, you’re wrong. Brendan has been acting weird. He doesn’t hang out the way he used to. We never see him after school.”
“Maybe it’s something simpler,” Dmitri said sadly.
“Like what?”
“Like, he’s found other, cooler people to be friends with.”
Harold thought about that for a moment. Brendan’s skin was better. His glasses were gone. He was more confident and, in a word, cooler. Harold felt an empty space opening up in his stomach and a tiny voice saying, He’s right, you know. He doesn’t need nerds like you guys. Harold refused to listen to that little voice. “Naw. Brendan’s a good guy. It must be something else. We’re gonna tail him until we figure out what it is.”
“I can only imagine that this will end badly,” Dmitri sighed.
Together, the two friends headed for the door.
As is the way with most people who decide to follow others, Dmitri and Harold never considered the possibility that they might be followed in turn. Chester had been eating his lunch at a corner table, alone. He’d been watching the little group of his former victims with quiet interest. As Dmitri and Harold left the cafeteria, Chester discarded his half-eaten sandwich, swept his books into his bag, and set off after them.
^ 39 Again, see Book One.
^ 40 Poutine is a culinary peculiarity that hails from the province of Quebec. A bed of french fries is laden with immature cheese in curd form and drenched in thick brown gravy. No one knows the origin of this dish, but its popularity has spread widely. There are many variations on the original. Italian style uses Bolognese sauce in place of gravy. The Indian version employs a glutinous curry sauce. An Arctic version uses chunks of whale blubber in place of cheese curds. No matter which variety you choose to enjoy, be aware that you will shorten your life by several weeks.
BOUNDARIES
Greenleaf’s English class was on the top floor of the school overlooking the park. Greenleaf stood at the windows watching the birds chase each other through the grey sky. Snowflakes were falling, large and soft, swirling against the panes of glass. Brendan entered the room with Charlie in tow and closed the door.
“I smell gravy,” Greenleaf said without turning around.
“And fries,” Charlie said cheerily. “Want some?”
“No food allowed in the classrooms.” Kim’s voice was flat and brittle as a pane of glass. She sat on a desk at the back of the room, glaring at Charlie.
“Really? I’m new here. I don’t know the rules.”
Kim launched herself to her feet and marched up to Charlie, snarling, “Obviously not. You have no business being here. Brendan is my responsibility. I’m his guardian.”
“He’s also my responsibility,” Greenleaf pointed out, his voice calm and even as always. “Let’s not be angry, Ki-Mata. We have only one chance to make a first impression.”
Kim whirled on Greenleaf. “She’s made a pretty bad first impression on me! She approached Brendan on her own without permission. No one’s supposed to butt in on his education.”
“Education?” Charlie laughed, tipping her empty french-fry container into the wastepaper basket and licking her fingers. “Is that what you call it? He can barely use any of his powers. Last night I had to show him what he was capable of. You’ve had plenty of time to do the same and you haven’t.”
Brendan didn’t like Charlie’s tone. Kim and Greenleaf had been doing their best. He was the problem.
“Who exactly do you think you are?” Kim snapped. “There are rules for a reason!”
“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, Kim,” Brendan interjected. “But Charlie doesn’t seem to be too big on following rules. And I didn’t ask her to show up. She just did.”
“Why didn’t you come to me and tell me?” Kim demanded.
“I tried to this morning but you gave me the cold shoulder. Anyway, who says you can pick who I hang out with? I’m getting sick of it.”
“It’s for your own good,” Kim retorted.
“Not that it’s doing much good,” Charlie quipped, sitting on Greenleaf’s desk.
“You stick a sock in it,” Kim snarled at Charlie.
“Or what?” Charlie laughed.
“Or else,” Kim replied, reaching back and hauling the field hockey stick out of her backpack, “I’ll stick a sock in it for you!”
Charlie responded by crouching on the desktop. Her tattoos writhed and the shadowy shape of the she-bear flickered around her human form. Brendan was seriously concerned that they were going to throw down.
Greenleaf quashed any hope of a rumble with one word. “STOP!” His voice was surprisingly powerful in the confined space of the classroom. Pencils rattled in a cup on the desktop. The two girls froze. “You will stop this instant. You forget yourself, Ki-Mata. Set an example of control and self-possession for your student.”
Kim relaxed with a visible effort, lowering her stick. Charlie stuck out her tongue.
“Charles!” Greenleaf said darkly. “Behave yourself. Ki-Mata does have authority here. She is Brendan’s appointed guardian.”
Charlie tossed her head and studied her nails. “Fine. If you say so, Greenleaf. Just remember, you asked me to come here.”
Kim whirled on Greenleaf, her mouth hanging open in surprise. “You! You asked her to come here?” Fury turned her voice into a rasp.
“You?” Brendan repeated. He was angry, too. “What’s the big idea?”
Greenleaf heaved a heavy sigh. He ignored Brendan and addressed Kim’s wounded pride. “Ki-Mata, we needed help. The kind of help that only Charles could give us.”
“What kind of help could she possibly give us?” Kim demanded. “Some backwoods lutin?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Charlie smiled, leaning against the desk.
“That’s jealousy talking, Ki-Mata. You know we have to help Brendan at all costs, even if that means a bruised ego. And Charles has a special past. She was raised in a Human family. She knows things about Brendan’s situation that may help him make a breakthrough,” Greenleaf said evenly. “You have to admit, we’ve been less than successful.”
Kim’s shoulders bunched with repressed fury, but she managed to hold back her anger. “Why wasn’t I consulted?”
“I had no time,” Greenleaf answered. “I consulted with Ariel and detailed the trouble we were having. On his own authority as the Eldest in the region he called Charlie’s teacher.”
Kim simmered in silence, her eyes narrowed in mistrust of Charlie. Charlie, for her part, took Kim’s hostility in stride. Brendan supposed that the threat of being burned at the stake made most other forms of disapproval pale by comparison. Then his mind hooked on something that Greenleaf had said. “Charlie’s teacher? Who’s that?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Charlie said, leaving him hanging. She addressed Greenleaf. “He made a
