“I’m outta here!” Brendan announced, cramming the last of his books into his backpack. “It’s Friday and I’m gonna go straight home. I might sit in my room and listen to music. I might lie on the couch and watch TV. I might just stare at the walls, drooling. I don’t care! It’s Friday and I’m going home.”
Harold looked annoyed. “We still haven’t gotten any work done on our presentation for social studies. No, let me rephrase that: you haven’t gotten any work done on our presentation for social studies.”
“We only have until next Friday, Brendan,” Dmitri agreed. “We’d better get on the bowl.”
“Ball,” Brendan laughed. “Not bowl, Dmitri.”
They were standing in front of Robertson Davies Academy’s main entrance. Students streamed past them down the stone steps, eager to start the weekend. Only one week remained before the Christmas break, and the mood was high. Exams would follow the two-week layoff, but no one worried about that now. All thoughts were on freedom.
“Can’t we just put in a couple of hours now?” Harold pleaded. “I’m serious. I don’t like leaving things until the last minute.”
Brendan swung his bag over his shoulder, shaking his head. “Sorry, guys. I just want some time to myself. I’ve been really busy lately.”
“Oh? We hadn’t noticed,” Harold said sarcastically.
“What have you been up to, Brendan?” Dmitri asked in a gentler tone. “You’ve been very reoccupied.”
“Preoccupied. And it’s just stuff. Family stuff,” Brendan said vaguely. He was telling the truth. Most of his time outside of school was being eaten up by “family” activities. His Faerie relatives were keeping him busy training him to harness his new abilities. He spent every extra minute with Kim, Greenleaf, and other Faerie tutors working on his new perceptive skills. When he wasn’t doing that, he was being thrashed in sparring sessions with Saskia, the Warp Warrior who tended the bar at the Swan of Liir on the Ward’s Island. So far, his schoolwork hadn’t suffered too badly, but his friendship with Harold and Dmitri had. He hardly saw them outside of class. As he looked into their faces, he saw that they were unhappy. He had to make a gesture of some kind.
“Listen,” he said. “Why don’t we get together on the weekend and do the work then? You guys can come to my house and we’ll get the presentation into shape.”
“I guess,” Harold said reluctantly.
“My mum will probably be baking this weekend.”
Harold’s face visibly brightened. The chubby boy was a fan of Brendan’s mum’s cookies. “Okay. When should we come over?”
“Tomorrow,” Brendan decided. “Let’s say, two o’clock.”
“Okay.” Dmitri smiled.
“See you then,” Brendan said. He waved and set off toward the park and home.
Dmitri and Harold watched him go.
“I wonder what kind of family business he’s got that keeps him busy every night of the week,” Harold pondered.
“Who knows?” Dmitri shrugged. “My family keeps me busy, I guess. My babka hasn’t been feeling well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harold said. “Tell her I say hello.”
“Really?” Dmitri asked, confused. “Okay. But you’ve never met her before.”
“Haven’t I? I thought I had once.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I could have sworn I had.” Harold’s eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to dredge his memory. “I could have sworn.”^ 14
“Don’t worry about it.” Dmitri clapped him on the back. “Are you taking the streetcar?”
“Yeah,” Harold said. “Let’s ride.”
As Brendan waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, he saw Chester Dallaire on the other side of the street. They hadn’t spoken since he’d released Chester from the Compulsion in the hospital room weeks ago. Chester had only just returned to school after a long psychiatric evaluation.
He was no longer the same hulking bully who’d terrorized their little group every day. He was quieter. He kept pretty much to himself, having discarded the cadre of rough friends he’d once run with. He’d lost weight and cut his hair.
Brendan felt a pang of guilt. These changes were the result of his actions. He had unwittingly used his powers on Chester, powers he’d been unaware he even possessed. Chester had been bullying Brendan and Kim when Brendan had said simply, “Get lost!” He’d learned the hard way that he had to be careful what he said to Humans. A Faerie can Compel people to do things with words alone, and the stronger the will behind the words, the stronger the Compulsion. Brendan’s command had sent Chester fleeing across the country in a desperate, mindless effort to lose himself. The police finally found him and sent him to the hospital until Brendan released him from the Compulsion. Brendan remembered that moment and the grateful reaction of Chester’s mother with a great deal of shame. He hoped that Chester was okay and had suffered no lasting damage. When they passed each other in the halls, Chester never spoke to him but just nodded in acknowledgment. At times, however, when Brendan was in the cafeteria or standing talking with his friends, he’d catch Chester staring at him. Brendan wondered how much of his ordeal Chester recalled and if he knew of Brendan’s involvement.
Chester was trudging north to the subway entrance. He must have sensed Brendan’s eyes on him because he looked up directly at him. He stared for an uncomfortable moment and then nodded his head once. Brendan lamely waved a hand and looked away, walking across the street into the park.
The high-pitched buzz of a small engine approached. Kim coasted up on her scooter, her silver crash helmet flashing in the weak December sunlight. Her real name was Ki-Mata, but she allowed Brendan to call her by the name she used in Human company, Kim.
“Is that a new scooter?” Brendan asked.
“Yep! Og totally freaked when I told him how the other one got trashed. I had to beg and plead and generally grovel, but he agreed to build me a new one.” Og was Brendan’s Faerie uncle. A rough and hearty fellow, he hardly seemed the type to be good with his hands. Og was an Artificer, however, the Faerie equivalent of an engineer.^ 15 He had built a scooter for Kim, which she’d trashed during the headlong escape from the mad and dangerous Orcadia. “He wasn’t happy, but in the end, he couldn’t say no.”
“I’ll bet.” Brendan laughed. He couldn’t imagine many people, Faerie or Human, who’d stand in Kim’s way if she really wanted something. In spite of her toughness, she was what most of the boys at RDA would call a hottie. But should any of them call her that within earshot, she’d likely brain them with the field hockey stick that perpetually jutted out from her backpack. Brendan supposed that was part of the reason she was so appealing. She was pretty and kind of terrifying at the same time.
“What’s your problem?” Kim asked suddenly.
Brendan realized he’d been staring at her. He tried to look nonchalant. “Nothing.”
“How have your training sessions been going?” Kim asked.
“Brutal. I can’t seem to get anything right. I’ve lost whatever connection I had to my abilities.”
“Sorry, Brendan. You’ve got to get up to speed. You have to practise.”
“Why? What’s the big rush? Faeries live a really long time, right? I have years to practise. Decades! Centuries!” They crossed the street into Queen’s Park. The trees were stark and bare now. No snow had fallen yet, but Brendan could sense the winter in the rawness of the wind as it rattled the dead leaves around their feet. One of the benefits of being a Faerie was the way his senses were heightened and tuned to nature in a way he’d never imagined before the glamours that concealed them had been lifted.
“See ya ’round. Get some sleep tonight. Or better yet, work on your meditation!” She gunned the motor and took off across the park.
“Oi! I’m trying to get some shut-eye here!” a little voice cried. Brendan unzipped his jacket to reveal BLT stretching her tiny arms as she stood in his inner pocket. Ever since his uncle Og had gifted the Lesser Faerie’s services to Brendan on his Quest for the missing amulet, she’d been his constant companion. She had a taste for sweets that bordered on addiction. Blinking, she looked up at Brendan and flapped her gauzy wings.^ 16 “What’s the racket?”
“You shouldn’t sleep so much in the day,” Brendan scolded. “You end up being awake all night.”
