Shadow's Edge (14 page)

I shook my head and broke his gaze. “I'll figure it out,” I said weakly. I cleared my throat and started to walk backwards toward the door.

“There's something else you don't know,” Slade called out. “Oran—”

“No,” I said quickly, then opened the door. The light of the basement flooded around me. I faced five people inside, who all were pretending I hadn't just been talking to a guy resembling an ex-con outside.

“Sorry about that,” I said casually. “My sister's boyfriend was just asking for some ideas for anniversary gifts for her.” Except my voice was all squeaky and weird-sounding.

Everyone continued to stare at me as I walked over
to the bar and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge next to it.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked as I sat down next to him on the couch.

“Great!” I gripped the water bottle, hoping Alex wouldn't notice my shaking hands.

“Good.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “Is that really your sister's boyfriend?”

I nodded. “Yeah. My sister is into … weird guys. But I guess it's because she's kind of weird herself.” I laughed lightly, but it came out sounding like a cough.

Alex glanced nervously around the room at all of our friends, who were obviously still disconcerted about the Weird Creepy Dude. “Maybe you should tell him not to follow you places. That guy seems like he could be … trouble.”

I nodded, unsure if he meant trouble for me or trouble for his social life.

If he thinks Slade is weird, wait until he sees Rhea's collection of ancient Egyptian masks or Morgana's bottled toad's eye in the basement. Or the mystical rune symbols etched into the wood floor in the den underneath the rug.

He'd never understand.

I stood back up, lightheaded. “Brooke, bathroom down this way?” I gestured around the corner.

She shook her head and pointed up. “It's broken. Use the one upstairs.”

“Be right back!” I said cheerfully. I gave a quick glance at the patio as I hustled past it, and thankfully, Slade was gone.

I walked up the stairs to the first floor and steadied my breath. With each step, my inner voice restored my confidence and blood pressure.

I reached Brooke's powder room and splashed water on my face. There were water sprites playing in the soap dish, and I whispered to them, “I'll figure this out. Just give me tonight.” They ignored me and continued to skate around on the suds.

I adjusted my shirt and opened the door. As I started to walk back toward the basement steps, a room with a light on and a heavy oak door that was cracked open caught my attention. I could hear everyone busy talking downstairs, so I tiptoed toward the door and pushed it further open. It made a long, quiet creak as it revealed a dark-wood room with a large desk in the center.

On the desk lay construction plans, spread out with a light illuminating the directives. I recognized it as a rendering of the new football stadium. Tall, white pillars like massive Titans waiting to defend the earth surrounded a giant steel bowl filled with rows of stands. There was also a huge promenade with concession stands, souvenir shops, and a platform for taking pre-game pictures with the mascot.

Thousands of square feet of flowers, trees, and nature were to be destroyed and replaced with concrete, steel, and metal bearings.

“The entire area will be destroyed. They're going to reach through the entire sceach and demolish a huge chunk of the Other Realm,” I whispered to myself. My eyes scanned the perimeter of the blueprint and landed on a design—a symbol—that bordered the drawings. To anyone else, it would've looked like a simple artist's sketch, a graphic design element meant to add artistic flair to the otherwise cold blueprints.

But not to me. It was the spiral glyph with the cross running through it—the symbol of the sworn enemies of the Créatúir, both Light and Dark.

The symbol for the Fomoriians.

My heart began to race as I heard a distant thump of music coming from the basement. I turned quickly and hustled out of the office, pulling the door halfway closed behind me.

My palms sweating, I turned to run back downstairs before anyone discovered me.

Too late.

I slammed directly into a figure in front of me. One that smelled like burnt grass and smoke.

“Ow!” I said, as my body connected and I was tossed backward. I landed hard on my butt, my hands slapping the marble tile of the floor.

“Get up.” Slade stood in front of me, extending a finger with long hands.

I ignored his hand and peeled myself off the ground. “What the hell are you doing back again? Are you insane?”

“Leah, listen—”

“Don't use my name,” I interrupted. “You don't deserve to.”

He shook his head. “You must—”

“I must
what
? What, Slade? Why won't you just leave me alone?” I hissed, near tears.

“Because King Oran is dead.” Slade grabbed my wrist and a jolt of ice ran through my arm.

“What?” I whispered.

“He's dead.” Slade released my wrist. “Murdered. That's what I was trying to tell you.” His eyes softened and his head bowed to the ground in reverence. Then he lifted his face toward me and his pupils hardened. “His death must be avenged,” he said, pointing a long arm toward the study. “You've seen the plans.”

I shook my head and took a step backward. “No, no, it can't—” My voice broke and I felt my resolve begin to crack away.

“You may not believe me, but it is the truth. We must defeat the demons. And the only thing powerful enough to stop them is the Four Treasures.”

I nodded and whispered, “I know.”

“Come to Inis Mor and we will look for them,” Slade said.

I shook my head violently. “I'm not going to go there unless I know for certain that I'll find something. As you might remember, my last visit to the Other Realm didn't end too well. You look around first, and let me know what you find.” I silently hoped he'd find some other solution and I wouldn't have to return at all.

Slade pressed his arms to his sides, shoulders squared. Clearly, he wasn't thrilled with taking orders. But he had no choice. He nodded, and then disappeared out the front door and into the darkness.

Tw
e
nty

I made up a lame excuse about not feeling well and left
Brooke's house after Slade left. I needed some time alone to examine my crappy options.

If I ignore the Créatúir and don't stop the murders, they'll all die. Not to mention Slade will undoubtedly make good on his threat to kill Rhea.

And then there's Alex. Even if his dad is involved, even if Brooke's dad is involved, I can't believe Alex knows what's going on.

Because I don't want to.

Even if I defeat the Fomoriians, avenge the murders, and manage to keep my social life intact, I don't want Alex to ever know.

Although it seems that the harder I try to keep my two worlds separate, the more spectacularly they collide.

Not to mention, all of that is assuming I can even figure out where the Four Treasures are. I might go to the Other Realm and the Créatúir will be all, “Whoops! Our bad!
We sold them in a garage sale last week! Try Créatúir Antiques Roadshow!”

After a few days of going round and round like this, logic swaying me one way, emotions another, I decided to head over to Blue Oracle, a New Age bookstore that had just opened, to see if they had anything of value. My mom had been there and said it was mostly candles and pseudo-metaphysical items, but that there was a big book section in the back. I wasn't sure what I hoped to find, but it was one of my only options.

Please let there be something about the Four Treasures there. Please let there—

I was so engrossed in my own pleas, I didn't hear Ben jog up behind me.

“Hey Spencer,” he said as he fell into step next to me. He had on a blue-and-white-striped, long-sleeved rugby shirt. His hair was pulled half-up at the top.

“Ben! You scared the hell out of me!”

He smiled. “Afraid of another soccer ball coming your way?”

I laughed. “Not exactly.” I looked down at the sidewalk moving below my feet for a moment before looking back at him. “Nice hair,” I said.

“Oh.” He stopped walking and his hand flew up to the back of his head. He pulled the rubber band out of his hair. “Angela Johnson did it to me.”

I nodded and tried to suppress a strange tingling of jealousy as I pictured Angela's perfect French manicure raking through Ben's hair.

“Here,” he said, handing me the elastic. “It's yours anyway, I think. From gym class.” His fingers brushed against my palm and lingered for a moment. “Are you headed home?”

“Not exactly. I'm going to Blue Oracle for more … more research,” I said quickly.

“Care if I walk with you? I'm headed to work that way.”

“Sure,” I said and shrugged. We fell silently into step, listening to the crunch of the leaves underneath our feet.

“Everything okay?” he asked me quietly as we crossed the street.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” I murmured as my head buzzed with thick confusion. “Where do you work?” I said, to change the subject.

“Mike's Sub Shop. I make the worst Italian sub you'll ever eat.”

I glanced over at him and smiled shyly, not comfortable holding his gaze. My palm still tingled from the touch of his finger.

After a few more silent moments, I cleared my throat. “Hey Ben, what do you know about the football stadium construction?” I asked casually.

“Not much. Just that people are so excited they're practically pissing themselves.” I watched as his features grew hard and his jaw tightened and flexed. He hooked his thumbs through the backpack straps on his shoulders and shrugged.

“Yeah, but do you know if they're planning to cut down all of the woods around it?” I said quietly, staring at the oak trees ahead.

“Ask your boyfriend. His dad is the one who's heading it up,” Ben said, his voice rigid.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

Sure. I'll get right on that.

We turned down the street and I heard wind chimes tinkling outside Blue Oracle. “I'll walk you to the door,” Ben said. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and I realized he was nervous.

I opened my mouth to protest but quickly closed it. I stole a glance at his deep green eyes, which were narrowed cautiously at me, and nodded. “Sure. You're not going to be late for work or anything, right?” I asked. “I mean, I don't want to deprive your customers of the worst Italian sub in the world.” I laughed.

“I'm not sure if ‘deprive' is the right word,” Ben said, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

“How long have you been working there?” I asked as we turned a corner.

His face grew softer for a moment, his features less like stone as he lifted his hands out of his pockets. “Awhile. It's not much money, but”—he shrugged—“every little bit helps.”

I murmured in agreement. A cool breeze tripped across the lawn and I pulled my arms closer to my body.

“It's just me and my mom,” Ben continued, staring at the sidewalk. “My brother, too. He has some disabilities, and a bunch of therapies to pay for, so I try to help out as much as I can.” His voice was soft, almost inaudible, before he exhaled loudly and looked at me. “Don't look so serious. It's just about … ” His green eyes twinkled and he carefully extended one finger toward the back of my hand. He traced a money symbol against the bones of my hand and smiled. His fingers moved so lightly against my skin that my entire body shivered before I could stop it.

He threw his head back and laughed, looking quite pleased with himself. “I do have that effect on people.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled, pulling my arms around myself, my face growing pink as it always seemed to do in his presence. I pushed open the door to Blue Oracle and Ben followed me inside. The shop was small, with one wall devoted to intention candles, another two walls to jewelry and incense. The very back wall was a bookcase. I quickly scanned the contents of the bookcase and pulled out
Myths of Ancient Ireland
while Ben wandered over to the jewelry.

There was a section on the Four Treasures. I flipped to it.

Folklore states that after the Four Treasures defeated the Fomoriians, they were destroyed and the pieces scattered around the globe, hidden for protection. Nearly all ancient texts agree that the Fomoriians will stop at nothing to gain power—they are waiting for a chance to return and gain control of both realms, mystical and human. The Fomoriians' demon magic will manifest itself in possessions and ritual killings as they grow strong enough to first take over the mystical realm, then the human realm.

I felt a bead of sweat drip down my cleavage.
It's them. The Fomoriian demons.
My knees weakened.
I can't do this. It's too big.
I placed the book back onto the shelf and turned to Ben.

“Didn't you have a necklace like this?” Ben pointed to a black onyx stone with carvings.

I nodded. “I used to,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I thought of it, tucked carefully away in
my nightstand.

He turned the necklace over and read the description on the attached tag. “It says here that black onyx is used to block out spiritual power.” He looked at me and smiled. “Why would you want to do that?”

There was a pause, and I wanted to tell him—I think I almost did. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, what I was going through. That it felt like my life was being butchered into all these different compartments.

We remained still, inches from one another. I could see my reflection in his eyes. The air around us seemed to stop, despite the cold store. It reminded me of the magnetic pictures I'd seen in science class a few years ago; the force fields between two magnets, invisible to everything around them.

He said, “Leah, I have to tell you something.”

My face twitched and my mouth turned down slightly. “We should go,” I said quickly.

Ben looked bewildered and nodded a little, following me outside. He squinted in the sun before muttering
to the ground, “I just wanted to tell you that you're
pretty cool.”

“What?” I leaned toward him.

“Nothing.” Ben shook his head. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and exhaled. “You're pretty cool,” he said again. He slowly lifted his eyes and met mine. His jade green eyes were soft, searching for my reaction.

“Oh,” was all I said. “Thanks,” I added, before I thought better of it.

Then, the reality and the meaning of what he said
hit me.

“Oh! You
like
me!” I said loudly.

Ben suddenly looked really uncomfortable. His features shifted and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, listen. I just wanted—I mean—you're a cool person and—” He shook his head as he fumbled with his words before going silent.

“Listen, Ben—”

“Leah, I—” he said at the same time. “I meant that I like you like a friend, okay?” he added quickly.

“Oh, right! That's what I meant!” I nodded, my face flushing again.

“I should go,” he finished awkwardly. “I need to get
to work.”

“Okay,” I said quietly as he turned and walked down the street. I watched as he walked past a Créatúir tending to a weeping willow tree, picking off dead leaves and opening leaf buds.

They could all disappear if I don't stop this.

Maybe Slade will find something out on his own. Maybe I won't have to return myself.

Yet as I walked down the street, my resolve to stay firmly in the human world nearly gone, I remembered this: I could lose much more than a year if I returned. The more time a human spends in the Other Realm, the more likely they are to be trapped there. If I returned, there was a possibility I could never come back. My parents, sisters, and friends would never know what happened to me. I could vanish … forever, like a living person trapped beneath a frozen pond for all eternity.

I can't.