Matchbox Girls (14 page)

“Not Jeremy?” Marley asked quietly.

Penny’s smile turned vague and distant. “I’m not
that
impressed by him. Hey, have you made any progress on that puzzle booklet? The one you showed me the other day?”

At first, Marley had no idea what she was talking about. Then she exclaimed, “Oh!” as she remembered the strange book fragment she’d been researching at the library the day before. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when a coded book and an absent friend were the weirdest things in her life. She fumbled in her backpack for the sheaf of papers. “I haven’t had a chance to study it since yesterday.”

It was a good way to occupy Penny so Marley could release the catastrophe vision. Maybe if she really studied the images, she could find clues to avoiding the disasters. They couldn't be guaranteed; the freeway hadn't actually turned into a hellscape of screams and twisted metal. That she might be delusional instead of tapping into the Sight mentioned by AT was an idea that did occur to her, but what could she do about it? She was more worried about Penny noticing and getting upset again. 

Penny flashed her a smile. “I’ve just been thinking about it and I wanted to see if any of my new ideas would apply. And maybe it will help solve your mystery.” She perched on the edge of a chair, flipping through the pages.

Lissa came over to her and whispered, “Marley, Neath really wants out of the cage.”

Marley looked over at the cat carrier. The kitten was pressed up against the holes in the box, her fur fluffed. Reluctantly, she shook her head.

“There’s too many places to get in trouble here.”
Especially if we need to leave in a hurry.
The kitten yowled indignantly in response.

Lissa looked around. “Okay. This house is sad anyway.” She went back over to watch the video her sister had started.

Marley settled back on the couch, studying Penny in the chair opposite. She took a deep breath, and stopped suppressing the catastrophe vision. And because she was prepared, she didn’t gasp, or cringe in horror.

One of the future echoes of Penny was empty, like the shell of a building after a fire had passed through. Another was swollen with harsh light that seemed to be burning painfully through her skin. A third wore a statue’s peaceful face, eyes closed, with wings folded on its back. All three were very strong, backed by other images too faded to decipher.

Bubbles of hysteria tickled Marley’s mind. Where was the good? Why couldn’t she ever see a good thing? Did it not exist? Or was she simply so twisted she couldn’t imagine it? She drew in a deep breath, and flicked her gaze away before the hysteria escaped.

Once again, the sight of the twins soothed her. They were safe, their images stable and fixed. Any dangerous destinies before them were distant and washed out, impossible to comprehend. As long as they were near her, they would be well. But
why
did she feel that way so strongly? Why was she so confident she could protect two mystery kids she’d known for less than a year, and so filled with grief at the sight of one of her best friends?

It was illogical, and it was stupid. She struggled to push the lying, useless catastrophe vision away. Penny had been there so often for her over the last ten years: comforting, accepting, encouraging; sharing secret dreams and private fears. Marley, Penny, and Branwyn, a trio. Writer, illustrator, reader. None of the stories had been amazing, but as the only audience of the collaborations, she’d felt intimately involved. More than once, the promise of a new story had been all that kept Marley from rash decisions and rasher actions. It seemed like such a small thing in recollection, but it had mattered so much at the time.

“Is this another copy of the cipher?” Penny asked, tapping the sheaf of paper with a pencil.

Marley wiped excess moisture from her eyes and stood up. “What? No? Why do you ask?”

“Because there are complete words scattered throughout now. Look, here. Little things like ‘the’ and ‘he’. More than one ‘he,’ in fact.” Penny smiled to herself.

Marley peered over Penny’s shoulder. Sure enough, every few lines, she could discern a whole, short word. There were also legible letters mixed in with the twisted symbols that covered the rest of the pages. Penny flipped through the pages and used her pencil to point out a capitalized ‘I’. “A novel or a diary, I think.”

“That makes sense, given the type of paper,” Marley agreed. “And it
is
the same paper, as far as I know. It’s just been tucked in my backpack. Can you use the unencrypted text to decipher the rest of it?”

“Maybe. Probably not; it’s more of a visual encryption. But I don’t think it matters.” Penny looked up at her, eyes shining. “I think it’s decoding itself. Isn’t that amazing?”

Marley stared at her and then stared at the papers. Slowly, she said, “I guess that’s one word for it.”

“I can’t wait to see what it’s about.” Penny flipped through the pages again, peering closely at the writing. “It’s like watching a countdown on the web. You just keep coming back to it, imagining what the end result will be. Do you think it’s associated with some movie launch? A viral advertising campaign?”

Marley hesitated. “No. I found it at Zachariah’s place. I thought it might be related to his disappearance.”

The glow of Penny’s mood abruptly dimmed. “Oh.” She glared at the stack of papers, and then put them down on the end table. Standing up, she paced over to the window before turning to look at the cartoon the kids were watching. Marley waited a few minutes, then finally tucked the sheaf of paper away in her bag again.

When Penny spoke, her voice was quiet enough that Marley had to move closer to understand her.

“It makes sense, you know. That Jeremy would just be using me. I’m an idiot for not seeing it earlier. Why else would a man like that hook up with a vacation fling?”

Despite the pain in Penny’s voice, relief washed through Marley like cool water. The catastrophe vision flashed on and off, just long enough for Marley to see the winged marble statue overlaid over Penny. Its eyes had been closed before, but now they were only almost-closed. Light leaked from beneath the lids.

Penny kept talking. “But he’s part of something good. That charity I mentioned, he called it Bridges. I really felt connected to them. I mean, at first I thought they were a bit silly, especially after I saw their little ritual. Very, uh, Old World, you know? Branwyn would mock it. But ever since then, I’ve felt... better about myself. Like I was part of something real.” She rubbed her wrist and took a step toward Marley, her expression intense.

“The thing is, Jeremy’s part of that, too. He may be using me, but... he led me to this good thing. So I don’t think he can be all bad.”

Marley tried for gentleness as she said, “Yesterday at the park, some people shot at the children and me. Jeremy may be involved with something good, but he implied threats against me when we spoke, and then his own people shot at us. So I think he’s involved in something bad, too.”

“Shot at you…” Penny whispered. Then, “Did they mention him? Is there any reason to assume they’re connected?”

Marley shrugged. “He left me a message a few minutes ago mentioning the attack. He said some of his coworkers had gotten overenthusiastic. So you can see how the appearance of guns means I’m a bit less concerned with your love life right now. Just so you know.” She offered a smile and knew as soon as her lips turned that it looked fake. “I trust you.”

Penny bit her lip. “Yeah. Enough to let me take the kids out to lunch while you take a nap?” She repeated the offer from the day before, pointedly.

Marley remembered the panic attack brought on by her friend’s earlier suggestion. This time, the catastrophe vision showed her more: the twins, no longer stable and safe, but burning, and the light they shed as they burned cast the shadows of wings. And on Penny, the eyes of the marble statue were half-open and gleaming with gold.

Penny’s own expression darkened as she watched Marley’s face. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She turned to the window.

Marley crossed the remaining distance between them and touched Penny’s arm. “There’s more going on than I can explain, Penny. It’s not about trust. It’s about knowing that I can protect them. Knowing it even though I don’t even understand how. Everything feels like that book right now. The world’s suddenly become completely incomprehensible and I’m trying to make tiny pieces of it make sense. And I’m not very good at it.”

Penny turned her head just enough for Marley to see her profile. “You could be right. I mean, I feel really good about Bridges. I feel like, yeah, maybe Jeremy’s a bastard, but he can be... redirected. But yesterday I was willing to believe Jeremy wanted me for myself. I don’t trust myself. You know what an idiot I am.”

Marley’s hand clenched into a fist. “Stop it, Penny.”

Penny shrugged. “Fine.” A stricken look crossed her face and she whispered, “I really don’t want you to leave, Marley.”

Still irritated, Marley said, “I’m not going to leave you just because you get involved with a guy or a cause, and you know it.” She softened her voice. “Tell me more about this charity?”

“Bridges. I’m sure you’ve seen some of their little logos around, attached to buildings or movie posters or whatever. They build stuff. Shelters and so on. And they counsel people...” Her voice trailed off as she stared out the window.

Marley frowned. “They sound kind of familiar.”

“Oh, they show up in the tabloids sometimes, and on gossip sites. A lot of celebrities are involved. I think it’s a status symbol.” Penny turned toward Marley again, her eyes huge. “But they do real things. They have a...” she paused, and then finished defiantly, “A patron angel.”

“Ah,” Marley breathed. “Oh, Penny.”

“Don’t you say anything! You can be a skeptic all you want, but I’ve dreamt of him. Every night, lately.” Pink suffused her olive skin. “Dreams I don’t want to wake up from.”

Marley suppressed a snort of unexpected laughter.
Her
, be skeptical. If only she could afford to be. If only doubt would make all this just go away. Instead she said, “What if it’s Bridges who wants the children, Bridges who Jeremy is representing?”

Without hesitation, Penny said, “Then give them to him. They’re the good guys, Marley. I’m certain of it.”

Marley stared at her, aghast. “But I was shot. They actually hit me. Good guys don’t shoot innocent babysitters!”

“Then maybe they weren’t part of Bridges!”

“But there were wings, Penny. Wings, and a light, and a voice. They were protected from...” Marley bit off the end of that sentence and then said, “I saw wings. So I’m no skeptic. Believe me.”

Penny looked at her, her breath indrawn. She started to speak, and then stopped, and then started again. “Maybe Zachariah’s using you just like Jeremy’s supposedly using me. Maybe Zachariah’s the bad guy. This is an
angel
, Marley.”

Marley lowered her gaze. It was possible. She thought of the way the twins had been instructed to call her in an emergency. That probably qualified as using her, although she still didn't understand the motives behind the action. And Corbin had been very vague on the nature of angels, other than their animosity toward his own people. Probably, with a few infamous exceptions, they were good. Did that make
her
the bad guy, too? For protecting children from the disaster she was sure otherwise lay ahead of them?

“Do you know the angel’s name?”

Penny’s mouth moved silently again, before she said breathlessly, “I should call Jeremy! I’m sure he’ll come over and—”

Marley raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What? No, don’t do that. I don’t want him to know we’re here.”

The strangest expression moved across Penny’s face, a sort of desperation. “Yes,” she whispered. Her eyes closed, and she took a deep, gasping breath. When her eyes opened again, her face was calm. “You’re right, I shouldn’t. I won’t. And I do know the angel’s name.”

Uncertainly, Marley said, “Are you all right?” Penny shrugged, so she added, “What’s its name?”

Penny lowered her gaze. “His name is Akaterin Ettoriel.”

The statue overlaid over Penny opened its eyes completely.

And when Penny raised her eyes again, they gleamed gold.

-sixteen-

P
enny’s face flickered, changing subtly. She brought her arms up to stretch slowly. Then she wrapped them around herself, rocking from side to side. “You,” she said. As with her face, it was Penny’s voice, but smoothed and perfected.

Marley stumbled backward, terror racing through her, devouring her ability to think. The catastrophe vision showed her two things of note: that the statue was moving in close synchronization with Penny, and that the vision of the light burning through Penny’s skin was much more immediate. It was too much; she shut the vision down with a violence that made her head ache. Outside, dogs began to bark.

“Marley,” said the thing inside of Penny, as if savoring her name. “You’ve been a trouble, but it needn’t be this way.” It held out Penny’s hand. “Give them to me.”

A small hand closed over Marley’s fingers: Lissa. Kari stood on Marley’s other side. Somebody shouted in the animated movie behind them.

Marley gripped Lissa’s hand and fumbled for Kari. “Go to hell,” she whispered. “And get away from Penny.”

It inclined Penny’s head. “I might yet. There are consequences for all actions. And yet it must be done, else all our little squabbles will end, and silence be the only winner.” Penny returned to hugging herself. “This one invited me in. She wanted to be part of something great, and so she shall be.”

Kari dodged Marley’s hand and took a step forward. “What’s happened to the angel lady?” Penny’s gaze stayed silently fixed on Marley, never even flickering to the kids.

Marley said, “She’s sick. Get away from her. Come with me. We’re leaving.” She stepped backward again, grabbing at her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “Kari!” Kari jumped and ran over to the door.

“No,” said Penny. “You’re not.”

“Marley! The door won’t open!” cried Kari.

Something dark moved in the corner of Marley’s vision, first on one side and then the other. It was eerily familiar. She suddenly had the feeling that the room was crowded; that there were many, many beings pressed into it, watching her, just beyond her ability to see. The barking outside took on an enraged quality. Her nose stung with the smell of wildfire smoke.