Flicker (38 page)

“Is
n’t
that the Eye?”
she
inquired.

“Yeah. It was supposed to give me the Sight,” Ja
son said
with a snort
. “I got it
when I was twelve, after I read about it in a book. Filo helped me. Stupid, really. We were both idiots back then.”

“Does it work?”

“No
. All that trouble, and I’m still relying on herbs and amulets.”

“Like your bracelet,” Lee said, pointing to his wrist. “Filo’s got one like it. Nasser, too.”

“It keeps weaker faeries from ge
tting too close.” Jason
pulled the bracelet off and handed it to her. His wrist was pale where the bracelet had bee
n.
“They don’t like the smell of it.”

“What’s it made of?”

“Hawthor
n, soaked in a mixture of blood,
clover
and some other plants
. Nasser soaked your necklace the same way, minus the blood.”

“Whose blood did you use for this?”
She was curious despite herself.

“Filo’s,” Jason said easily. “The blood of
Sighted folk
has some magical properties, since it’s infused with their energy. Nasser’s blood would’ve worked too, but Filo’s Sight is stronger.”

Lee’s eyes widened as she gave the bracelet bac
k. “You’re not kidding.
”

“Nope. Believe it or not, Filo used to be a much better sport about these things.”

“I can’t believe
anyone
could be that good of a sport, especially Filo.”

“He wasn’t always such an ass
,” Jason said
. “T
hat was years ago
. But you should still try to be patien
t with him. Speaking of
, you want a little tip for dealing with Filo?”

She snorted. “I’m listening.”

“He
likes M&M
s
. So if you want him to do something, he’s pretty easily bribed.” Jason winked. “You just have to remember that Filo isn’t like us.
Nem
and
Morgan
raised him. Up until Nasser and I came here,
he’d
had only ever had contact with
Neman
,
Morgan
, and Alice.”

“How is that possible?”

“
Nem
and
Morgan
didn’t let them set foot outside of Flicker until they were nine. Nasser and I were the first other humans—let
alone children—they’d ever met.
Filo barely said te
n words to us the first month we lived here
.”
He smiled mischievously. “
He and Alice used to have this Irish accent
that they picked up from
Nem
and Morgan
.
Filo
worked
so hard to get rid of it, but s
ometimes you can still hear it
.
Alice hides it, too, but she isn’t so self-conscious about it.
”

“Why’d he want to get rid of it?”
she asked.

“To sound
more normal
, I’d guess
,” Jason said
dryly
.
“
The normals he works with
give him enough weird looks
as it is
.
Or maybe he got tired of me telling him he sounded like a leprechaun.
That’s my opinion, anyway. He’d deny it.”

His
gaze fell on the pile of towels; he gathered them up and walked into the other room, seemingly indifferent to the blood that had soaked through them. Lee followed him.

Jason tossed the towels into
the hearth and crouched before
the fireplace. He raised his hand to his mouth and blew gently. Yellow sparks
flurried from his palm and
into the hearth like glowing snowflakes, catching on the wood and towe
ls and devouring them.

“How did you do that?” Lee asked.

“Here,” Jason said, patting the floor beside him. “Sit down.”

She weaved around the stacks of
books to join him by the fire.

“Concentrate energy into the surface of your palm,” Jason instructed. “Build it up like you would for any other spell. Now, when you blow, release your magic and envision what you want it to do. The magic will form embers and follow your breath.”

“Like blowing on a fire to stoke it,” Lee said. “And it won’t burn me?”

“Not if you do it right.”

Lee held her hand to her mouth, palm-up. She imagined holding the energy in her hand like shimmering water, imagined it gusting upward into little flakes of light. Her skin tingled with warmth and she blew gently on her hand, releasing the magic.

Green embers fell from Lee’s hand and into the fire. They flashed brightly, but were quickly absorbed into the yellow flames. Lee smiled.

“Do either of you have anything you need me to look at?”

They both looked up and around at the sound of Nasser’s voice. He was standing in the doorway behind them.

“Well,” Jason said, running his tongue over his teeth. “I knocked a tooth loose. But I can take care of that. How about you, Lee?”

Lee shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Nasser crossed the room and pulled up a chair, turning it backwards and sitting down. The golden firelight seemed to emphasize the faded scars on his hands and forearms, his throat and face. Seeing those scars so clearly was a little painful for her. He and Filo and Jason hadn’t just been injured tonight. They’d been injured
all their
lives, under circumstances most people could never understan
d
. To her, the worst part was that it wasn’t a choice. They wer
e magical. They were Seers. Scars
and pain were just the way of their world.

Lee glanced up when Filo entered the room.
He wore fresh clothes
. The flickering
fire
light made him look thinner, somehow, sicker, but his eyes were bright.

They watched in silence as Filo crossed to the door beside the fireplace, his movements stiff. Lee had tried to open that door several times over the last few days, but it was locked
tight.

The knob turned easily under Filo’s hand, though, and the door creaked open. The room beyond was pitch black.

“I don’t use this room anymore,” Filo said. “I don’t like going in there. But you can sleep here tonight. Don’t argue.”

“
Morgan
will kill you,” Nasser said, sounding bewildered.

Filo shook his head. “I’m not interested in pleasing her anymore.”

“Filo—” Jason began, but fell silent as Filo brushed past him and into the front room, closing the door behind him. Jason turned to Nasser.
His voice was hushed.
“Are we staying?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s just one night,” Lee said. “What could it hurt?”

Jason studied his shoes for a moment. “It would be weird after so long,” he said. “But I’m tired and it’s a long walk back to our place. And Filo doesn’t mind, so
…
”

“Well,” Nasser acknowledged slowly, “if we leave early, it should be fine.” He stepped through the door, Jason and Lee behind him.

In the room, squares of light streamed through two windows and fell on the floor. The light was faint and grimy, though, and Lee could make out no other features of the room.

Nasser stepped into the room and reached up, grasping somethin
g. The room
filled with the soft, silvery light that exuded from a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

The room was long and narrow. The
walls were off-white and the ceiling was ringed with brown water stains. Three beds were pushed against the far wall, identical to the one in the front room. They were spaced evenly from each other, but the distance between the far right bed and right wall suggested that a fourth bed had once been there.

Shelves
crowded
with candle stubs, glass jars and colored pieces of origami
lined
the walls. Above the third bed, a mobile of paper
cranes hung, the cranes faded with age.

“When we all lived at Flicker, this was where we slept,” Nasser explained, as if sensing Lee’s question. He pointed to the empty spot near the right-hand wall. “Filo’s bed used to go there. I guess he moved it.”

“I can’t believe this,” Lee said. “Filo’s been sleeping on the floor for all this time when there were
three other beds
right here. Is he really that stubborn?”

“More than you know.”

Jason pushed open a window and stuck his head out. A gust of cold, fresh air rushed inside. “Hey! It’s snowing.”

Lee scampered to the window. Sure enough, tiny flakes were dropping from the sky like damp confetti, and she found herself grinning.

Nasser joined them a moment later. “It’ll turn to rain by morning,” he assured them. “Don’t get too excited.”

“You can predict the weather?” Lee raised an eyebrow.

“Weather is a major force,” he shrugged. “I pick up on it.”

Still smiling, Lee sat on the third bed and pulled off her shoes. The clothes she’d been sleeping in were in the front room, and she doubted Filo would welcome company just now, so she quickly resigned herself to sleeping in her clothes and lay down. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nasser shut the window. He left the door open, though, and soon the room was flooded with warmth that flowed in from the workroom.

Jason
flung himself
down on the bed next to hers, the mattress springs groaning in protest. Nasser lay down much more quietly on the bed farthest from Lee—but then, everything Nasser did was quiet and calm. He had such an easy way about him. She watched him raise his hand slightly, then lower it. The light bulb dimmed, and a moment later, the room was dark.

Lee’s tired eyes adjusted slowly to the dark. After a minute, she could make out the shape of the mobile hanging above her. She stared up at it as she drifted off to sleep, studying the cranes dangling from t
he strings, imagining them
gliding in endless circles with wings outstretched.

Chapter Fifteen:

Lightning Strikes

When Filo managed to peel his eyes open, he realized he was lying in a bed—
his
bed.
Cold winter sunlight filled the bedroom, stinging his eyes.
His body felt stiff and brittle.
There was
a shape beside the bed.
Alice. She was curled up in a chair, wrapped in a heavy blanket. Asleep.

“Alice?”
His voice was thick, a croak.

At the sound of his voice,
Alice
bolted upright. All the breath seemed to go out of her in one relieved sigh, and she leaned toward him, grabbing one of his hands in both of hers and squeezing hard, like she was afraid he might disappear.

“You were sick,” she told him gently. Her
hazel
eyes were shiny and red-rimmed
, like she’d been crying
.
She released his hand, only to begin smoothing the hair back from his brow.
He would’ve pushed her away—he hated being fussed over—
but there was no strength in his ar
ms. “I thought you were a goner, Filo.
But you’ll be fine now.
You’ll be
okay
.
”

“
Alice,
I
…
” Filo tried to swallow, but his throat was dry as sand. “I dreamed that Nasser was here.”

Her smile shrank. She looked almost pained. “I’ve dreamed that a few times myself.”

“But it didn’t
feel
like a dream,” he insisted. The air seemed to shimmer with Nasser’s silver energy. “It felt like he was
here
. It still does.”

“You’re imagining things,” Alice said firmly. Then she frowned. “How do you feel? Think you could stand to eat something?”

The thought of food sent a wave of nausea washing over him. He detected the scent of
cooking
food wafting in fro
m the kitchen.
The smell made his insides heave. He shook his head.

With a sigh, she stood and left. She returned
with
a chipped mug.

“Here. Drink this,” she instructed, pressing the cup to his mouth. He swallowed without asking what it was, trusting her. “You haven’t eaten anything solid in days. This’ll
help for now. And
it’ll help you sleep.”