Silence - eARC (22 page)

“Well, it’s the Blackthorne Estate. They’ve got more money than anyone I’ve ever met and they don’t seem to mind spending it on parties,” Staci replied, feeling a bit…awkward.

“Right. Well. Coffee is on the house today. You look like you could use some java. Your friends are already in the back waiting for you.”

She could feel Tim’s eyes on her back as she walked past the counter towards the rear of the bookstore.
What’s gotten into him?

Just as Tim had said, the rest of the group were already camped out in their usual space in the back. Staci said her hellos as she made her way to the coffee machine; the smell of freshly brewed coffee was already working to perk her up, and she was starting to feel like coming into the shop wasn’t such a waste of time after all. She fixed herself a large mug, turning to sit in her usual spot. She expected the gang to be embroiled in some discussion about a video game or movie, as per usual.

But Seth and Wanda were already deep in an agitated conversation, and Jake and Riley were sitting as tightly together as you could get, holding hands, and looking worried.

“Their car is gone,” Seth was saying, as if he was answering some question Wanda had answered. “It’s not like they just got beamed up to the Mothership or something.
Their car is gone.
So maybe they went for a joyride after the party and, I dunno, they’re wrecked, somewhere.”

“Wait, whoa, I just got here,” Staci interrupted. “Whose car is gone? What’s the big deal?”

Everyone turned to look at her, and she could see that this wasn’t some argument about nerd minutiae. Riley looked worried, and Jake, though determined to try to comfort her, looked the same. Seth seemed to be fighting a losing battle with Wanda, who appeared to be equal parts upset and scared. Wanda was the first one to talk to Staci.

“There are some kids missing. Three of them. They were all at the party the other night, the one we were at—”

“Which doesn’t
mean
anything!” Seth blurted out. “They might’ve just gotten drunk and drove over to the next town, or gone on a road trip. Or wrecked. Or, heck, maybe they decided they’d had enough of this stinking town and just decided to leave. We don’t know, so there’s no reason to jump to conclusions without any more information.”

“You don’t find it the tiniest bit strange that all three of them up and go at the same time? Or that the cops haven’t even talked to the Blackthornes? I didn’t know them, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re
gone
, and some of the last people to see them haven’t been questioned a bit.”

“It’s only three people—”

“No, it isn’t. It’s only three people
this week
. Other people have gone missing, too. People just refuse to talk about it. Why are you trying to rationalize this so much? It’s not like you’re going out with one of the Blackthornes.” Wanda caught herself too late, looking at Staci and then at her feet. “Staci, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…it’s really strange, whatever is happening.”

Staci felt a wave of anger wash over her, but bit back the snappy comeback she was going to use on Wanda. Instead, she just blew out the breath she had been holding in a sigh, and shook her head. “Can we just talk about something else, please? This is a job for the police, anyway, isn’t it? Especially if they’re kids like us. It’s not as if we were the Scooby Doo gang or something, solving mysteries.”

Riley nodded, leaning forward to grab her own mug of tea. “Staci’s right. Let’s just focus on something a little less messed up; it’s not as if we knew those kids all that well, just to say hi to, if they even felt like saying hi back, which, you know good and well, they pretty much didn’t.”

But although Jake and Seth tried gamely to get the conversation on other things, conversation just fell flat. After an hour and a half of fiddling with some character sheets and a few abortive attempts to get a game going; finally, Riley sighed, and said she had to get back home to do the dishes. Jake said he’d go with her, and Seth added he’d walk home with them both. That left Wanda and Staci sitting there staring at each other.

Staci had been steadily sipping her coffee during the entire awkward hour and a half the group had been together, and was thinking that it was time to head home, maybe stop by the diner for a bite to eat. Just as she was about to stand up and say goodbye, Wanda spoke, looking intently at the space between her feet.

“The others can’t see it, or maybe they won’t see it. But…there’s something very wrong happening in this town. Something
evil
, Staci. People go missing all the time, but up until now, it’s been bums or dropouts, drunks or stoners, people that couldn’t hold down a job or drifters. People that wouldn’t be missed. Or wouldn’t be missed much. But…it’s like things have been escalating. First the couple of homeless people. Then it kind of worked up—the last ones that went missing were a guy whose wife had just left him and a kid who was a stoner but still lived with his parents. Now…” she gestured with one hand, helplessly. “Now it’s three regular kids. So now…maybe whatever is doing this has decided no one is
ever
going to do anything about this, so it’s gotten bold.”

There was an itch at the back of Staci’s mind, almost like a buzz just outside of the range of her hearing that she couldn’t shake. It made her want to scream and stamp her feet and curl up into a ball and cry, all at the same time. “Stuff like that always happens even in small towns, though. In New York City, the same sort of things are going on all the time, too. It’s just that people notice it more sometimes, and think that it’s a pattern when it’s just life.” She couldn’t put her finger on why, but her own words felt hollow, rehearsed in some way. She tried a weak smile. “If we just had a decent Internet connection, I could show you, I bet; show you the statistics of how many people go missing all the time. Probably the homeless people just took shelter someplace and died, and no one’s noticed them because it’s under a car on blocks, or under the dock. The guy whose wife left—well, what did he have to stick around
here
for anymore? And stoners are always wandering off and having bad things happen to them, it’s not just
Reefer Madness
stories, they get dizzy and fall off docks or cliffs, or get lost in the woods…” It didn’t sound convincing, not even to her.

“Staci…the Blackthornes have something to do with all of this. You’ve got to see that. They run the town, practically. All of them might not be so bad. Mori is cool, if a bit creepy, even for me. But you’ve been around them more than any of us, hell, anyone in the town, probably. You must have seen something,
anything.
”

Staci shook her head, firmly. “Wanda, this is like—like stupid Internet conspiracy thinking, like black helicopters and secret societies and aliens abducting you every night. Seriously. I think this town is just driving you bonkers, a little. Sure, the Blackthornes are rich, but not even rich people get away with a dozen murders. And Sean is sweet, he’s—he’s actually really protective of people he likes. He kept me right by him during those freaky movies, and he makes sure even his cousin Finn isn’t allowed to hardly look at me, much less hassle me. He was even in my room when I woke up a couple times because I was having nightmares and he heard me—he wanted to make sure I was all right, and when I woke up he was sitting in a chair across the room, just watching over me—”

“He was
what?!”
Wanda leaned forward in her chair, hands on her knees. “Staci…you do know that you pretty much just outlined the beginnings of an abusive or possessive relationship, right?”

“Uh—what?” She gave Wanda a startled look. “That’s ridiculous. He’s never touched me, he’s barely kissed me, and he sure hasn’t—”

But…she couldn’t help but think of the—yes—
possessive
way he held her close to him when he was with his cousins. How he had monopolized her conversation except when the gang was around, and even then, how he’d kept her with
him,
making sure the others had things they could do, or other people who claimed their attention.

“Staci, all that stuff that you said that Sean was doing? That’s called
grooming
; it’s the same kind of thing kiddy diddlers do to get their victims used to being abused, to make them think that it’s normal. To make them comfortable with it. He’s been controlling you more and more. He compliments you a bunch, right? Like, that’s the only thing he has to say to you, ever, pretty much?”

“But what’s wrong with that?” she objected. “I say the same kind of things to him!”

Wanda started ticking off fingers on her other hand. “He gets jealous anytime someone else shows an interest in you. He gets angry quickly, over that, too, right? He tries to monopolize your time as much as he can; more and more, lately. And he picked when you could see your friends, even when you could leave his house. Hell, he was choosing what you could wear, just about.”

Staci could feel herself getting cold, because…this was all hitting much too close to home. “But…most of the time I was wearing my own stuff,” she said feebly. “You just didn’t see it because it was cosplay nights…he doesn’t tell me what to do, ever.”
No, he doesn’t
tell
me what to do, but…what else can I do up there except things he wants to…

“Doesn’t tell you what to do, but he’s the one giving you the only options to choose from. It doesn’t matter which one you pick, because he picked them all
first
; whatever you choose, he wins. Then there’s the whole super creepy watching-you-while-you-sleep bit. Stalkers do that sort of crap.” She sighed. “Staci,” Wanda put her other hand on Staci’s, her voice going quiet. “I’m not trying to rain on your parade. I’m really, really not. I’m scared for you. Because…because I—my sister went through this exact thing and I saw it all myself. I don’t want to see it happen to you, too.”

Wanda pulled her hand back, but the touch had…done something. Nothing
sexual,
it was more like a pail of cold water had hit her, waking her up.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Suddenly it all came rushing back. The kid in the maze—was he one of the ones missing? Sean talking to the Hunter. The cousins on their terrible horses, with those black hounds around them. The blood in the pool…

How could she have forgotten any of that? It was as if—

As if someone put a spell on me!

And something about being here, being in the bookstore, talking with Wanda, had somehow snapped her out of it.

She couldn’t tell that to Wanda though. Good God, Wanda already had enough crazy ideas and conspiracy theories
without
being told that magic was real, and there were elves and—

And some of them tried to kill me…which means if Wanda knows…some of them might try to kill her, too.

So instead, she acted as if this was perfectly normal relationship advice, crinkled up her forehead, and said hesitantly, “You might be right…if nothing else, he’s kind of overprotective.…”

“Just be careful, okay? I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it, now more than ever after everything you told me. It’d be really easy to get blinded by all the money and everything, and not notice something going on right in front of you.” Wanda stared at her for a few moments more, then seemed satisfied that Staci was taking her seriously. “I’ve got to get going, too. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Definitely,” Staci said, without getting up, clutching her coffee mug in both hands. “I think you might be the best friend I ever had, Wanda.”

“Oh Goddess, don’t say that,” Wanda scoffed. “If nothing else, don’t say that, ’cause in horror movies, the next thing that happens is that the
best friend
becomes
victim du jour.
Mm, ’kay?” They both laughed at that, and Staci couldn’t help but marvel at how good it felt. Wanda gathered her bag, hugged Staci, and then left the bookstore, saying goodbye to Tim on her way out. Staci decided to stay for a few more minutes, though.

She felt as if she was completely awake for the first time in a week, and she probably
was.
She had the horrible feeling that Wanda was right. At the very least, Sean was manipulating her, and probably casting magic on her. Maybe it was to protect her, keep her from remembering things she saw and shouldn’t have, because he didn’t know that she wouldn’t just blurt that stuff out. But…it was still manipulation. And she had the horrible feeling she was some kind of…trophy to him. Something he had that Finn couldn’t get. And she was clearly something that Bradan approved of. No…no, there was some very creepy stuff going on, and she needed to talk to Dylan about it, and find out if he was actually on Sean’s side, and what he really
knew
about the Blackthornes.

Staci picked up her shoulder bag, stood up and then set down her coffee mug by the sink next to the coffee machine. On her way out the door, she stopped in front of the register counter. Tim looked up from a heavy, leather-backed book.

“You look like you’re doing better. Coffee that good, huh?”

“It’s like magic,” Staci replied, more than a little seriously. “Thanks, Tim. I think this bookstore is the best place in Silence.”

He smiled broadly at that. “Thanks, Staci. I’m glad that you think so. You and your friends are always welcome here, of course.”

With a final nod, Staci pushed the door open, walking out into the dim sunlight coming through the low cloud cover. There was plenty of time to talk to Dylan and get home before nightfall. Food could wait. She was determined not to be kept in the dark anymore.

Chapter Seventeen

It was, as always, a long bike ride up the Hill to the spot where Staci usually met Dylan, and it was made longer by the fact that she kept looking over her shoulder for those psycho lawn gnomes or one of the leather-clad Hunters. Her call to Dylan just after she left the bookstore had been brief and tense; Dylan must have heard the fear in her voice, because he had only said “Usual spot,” and hung up.

He was waiting for her on the Hill, instead of her arriving and having to wait around for him. He looked concerned, arms crossed and leaning against Metalhead; when she crested the Hill and came into view, he immediately started walking towards her.

The expression on his face at least gave her some comfort. He was clearly worried. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She closed her eyes for a moment to frame her reply. “I…found out about a lot of things. I’m just not sure where to start.”

“Let’s go from the beginning. You were up at the Blackthorne Estate for a full week; let’s break this down, day by day.” He waved his hand towards the tree, inviting her to come take a seat. She made a little face; it wasn’t the most comfortable of places to sit…but at least they couldn’t be spied on there. Unless there was something
in
the tree, but she figured Dylan would have seen and cleared out anything like that. She followed him over; they both made themselves as comfortable as they could, and she began. First with the mundane details, about the party, the guests, her friends. Then she dove into the rest of it; Dylan listened intently to her every word, but seemed to be particularly focused when it came to the magical parts she described.

He started when she described finding Sean in her room the first time. She felt very odd about that…it made her feel
really
stupid, that she had been so blasé about finding a stranger in her room, watching her. Wanda was right, that was way, way over-the-line stalker stuff, it wasn’t romantic
at all,
and she felt like a complete idiot for not seeing that, right then and there. And she had let him get away with it, not once, but three times!

“Staci, you were bespelled,” he said flatly, when she was done. “It’s one of the lowest, most vile forms of magic, the way he was using it on you. It changes how you think, can make slaves of people. He was trying to draw you under his power, fully. If you had been there much longer…” He let his voice trail off, shaking his head before cursing himself. “It was stupid of me to send you into that. I should have seen it coming.” He started again, looking to her. “How did you break out of it?”

“It…well, it just kind of wore off after a while. Maybe it was being away from him, being away from that place.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s because Wanda made me actually think about it. Although…” She frowned. “It didn’t really start to wear off until I got to Tim’s bookstore. And then it kind of went all in an hour or so. So maybe it was because I was with my real friends again?”

He was silent for a moment, digesting the information. “Maybe.” He looked at her strangely, like he usually did whenever she had surprised him. Was he just shocked, or did he feel protective about her? Dylan had been warming up to her for some time now, but for the most part it had been a bit detached, as if he was keeping her at a distance. “Still, it was stupid of me not to anticipate that you’d be in danger from something other than getting caught looking around. I’m sorry, Staci; I fucked up, and bad. I should have anticipated this. And I should have prepared you, or helped you with some sort of protection. It’s my fault for dragging you into this crap.” He stood up quickly, stalking away a few feet. She could tell that he was fuming, angry with himself.

And he hasn’t heard the worst of it yet.
She wondered how he was going to react to
that
. But at least he wasn’t detached anymore.
Okay…I guess he’s got skin in the game now. He isn’t just thinking of me as an…ally?…he’s thinking of me as someone that he doesn’t want to get hurt.
This wasn’t that creepy possessive-protective shit that Sean was pulling. This was…genuine. Like Wanda opening up about herself, only…Dylan wasn’t another girl. He
liked
her, maybe way more than just liked her…and when she contrasted him with Sean…Sean wasn’t coming off too well.

She got up, and caught him on the turn by grabbing his elbow. “Hey,” she said. “Stop. Look at me.”

He did. His expression was full of doubt and he frowned, as if he was frowning at himself. “This is only going to get more dangerous from here on out, Staci. This isn’t your fight—”

“Maybe it wasn’t before, but it is now,” she said firmly. “It really is. These are
horrible
people, Dylan! Or…whatever they are, they’re horrible, and we can’t let them keep getting away with it!” She filled him in rapidly on what else she had seen—the trip to whatever was on the other side of the gazebo, the kid who had been chased by the hounds, and the worst of all, when she had seen the Hunters and realized that they’d killed…something. Only now, she knew it was some
one.
And that she was pretty sure the three kids missing from the party were dead. “You said you came here to stop something, and I guess this is the sort of thing you’re trying to stop.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “What you saw was a Wild Hunt, or the aftermath of one. Dark elves riding down ‘prey’ for sport. The Hunters are like houndsmen; they scare the prey, get it to run. It’s not so much about the killing, for them, as it is the chase, and the fear and despair of the prey. That’s what feeds them. If they’re doing Wild Hunts, out in the open like that, it means they’re becoming more brazen. Something bad is coming, Staci.”

She got a sinking feeling. “What do you mean, something bad?”

“If they’re not bothering to hide their killings, it means that they’re consolidating their power for something big. I don’t know what, but whatever it is, it means a lot of people are probably going to die. And not quickly.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Not enough suffering, even from grieving families. I’ve seen this kind of thing happen before. It’s exactly what I came here to stop.”

“What…how could anything be worse than what they’re doing?” she asked…not really wanting to hear the answer, but also knowing that she had to know. She sat down on a tree root.

“Ever been to Detroit? That’s small-scale, long-term influence. Slow burn. There are plenty of ghost towns in this country that would still be alive if it weren’t for the Unseleighe. The Rust Belt, poisoned rivers and streams that have been the lifeblood of towns for generations, places where people rarely make it past sixty years old…Silence is on the chopping block for that, and worse. Mass death, but slow, and painful, and less hope than even now. That gazebo—it’s a kind of gateway to Underhill, which is where all the elves, Seleighe and Unseleighe, come from. There are more of them over there. That’s probably where all those ‘cousins’ are actually living, when they aren’t partying and hunting at the Blackthorne Estate. The Unseleighe get their power from misery, and that gazebo lets them funnel the misery back home. It’s like a pipeline.” He frowned. “I’m not sure how that kid got over there, whether he went through by accident, or they brought him through. It’s more likely the latter; they might have wanted a Hunt on their own ground, where they could keep chasing him, hurting him without killing him, without a chance that he’d escape and somehow get the authorities looking for whoever had been hunting him. Those Gates--portals--generally have a lot of protections on them.”

“So, if we destroy that, it’s over, right? We win, they can’t go home and can’t use that power? Can we even destroy it?”

Dylan shook his head. “It’s not quite that simple. Gateways like that aren’t easy to take down; you couldn’t just set it on fire, for instance. They’re warded with devastatingly powerful magics, and it’ll fight back if it comes under assault. Even if we can take it down—and that’s a huge if—that might not stop the Blackthornes from doing whatever they’re planning on doing to the town. Being cut off from Underhill will weaken them significantly, but”— He shook his head--“unless we can get rid of them permanently, or get them back on their own side and seal them off, well, I’m not sure what they can do. They still have Silence to feed off of. They might even be able to reopen the Gate.”

“So—what do we
do?”
she asked. Because this sounded like a no-win situation…

“We need to find out what their big plan is for Silence. You’ve done great so far. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t know that they were ramping up for something really nasty. Once we figure out what they’re planning, we can stop it by destroying the gateway. Any of them that we don’t lock behind it…” He paused. “I’ll think of something. But I won’t leave them
here,
to start all over again.”

She nodded. What else could she do? It was like they said, once you know something you can’t un-know it. And now that she knew, she had to keep right on helping him. Partly, it was self-defense, because there was nowhere else for her to go. But right now, mostly it was because of Dylan. He’d convinced her this was the right thing to do.

And maybe she had some skin in the game too—if she was partly of elven blood, well, she needed to figure out how to make this all stop.

“Before I send you back into that viper’s nest again, we need to make sure that you’re prepared. When Sean,” he said, spitting the name out, “was trying to bespell you, it’s only luck that you were able to break free. I’m going to teach you how to do spellbreaking on your own; how to recognize casting, and what to do to stop it or negate the effects. That, and some more defensive magic; you’ve been progressing
way
faster than I had expected, so you’re definitely ready for this.”

He wasn’t kidding either, as she found out for the rest of that afternoon. He worked her harder than she had ever worked before in her life. This wasn’t just learning a couple of tricks; this was learning how magic worked, and why, and how to find the weak point in something that was being done and shove a stick in there and let the thing break up under its own momentum. Because, as he kept telling her, over and over again, “A spell is a
process,
and not a
thing.”
And a process was something that kept going until it ran out of steam, or was stopped.

He was just showing her
how
to make it stop.

He also showed her how to make it stop in two ways—by just letting it break up, or by stopping it violently. Because when you did the latter, all the energy it was using snapped back in the caster’s face, like a bungee cord stretched out as far as it could be and then breaking. And at that point, spellbreaking actually became a weapon.

He showed her several kinds of “shields” to make, like the one he used; little ones you could hide behind, like the shields that riot cops used. Big ones, like hiding behind a wall. And dome-shaped shields that you could duck under and just let things rain down on you while you were protected.

She felt as if she was burning off energy, like running a marathon, and she actually must have been, because right after she’d gotten the hang of the little shields, her stomach growled. He looked at her as if she had suddenly turned into a Red Cap, then laughed.

“Yeah, I guess I forgot to warn you, spellcasting burns a lot of energy.” He strolled over to his bike and came back with a plastic grocery bag. “I know this little gal, earth-mage, drinks so many Meals-In-A-Can she has to buy them by the pallet-load. Here. It’s what I’ve got.”

The bag turned out to be full of energy bars, and she tore into them as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. So did he, actually; within fifteen minutes, there was nothing in the bag but empty wrappers. She finally looked at a wrapper when she had eaten the last bite of the last one.
Gammabars? That’s not a brand I ever heard of.

“I’ll buy you a real meal later. Right now—back to work,” he said, and began teaching her how to
see
magic, so she’d know when someone was trying to do something to her. Really see it, this time, and not just the effects, like the shimmer in the air she got when she put up a shield. Hard to describe, it was…like unfocusing your eyes for those weird hidden 3-D pictures that had been all the rage when she was little. When you did that, you could
see
the process, like colored threads weaving together, in constant motion.

By the time she got the hang of that, and everything else he’d been teaching her, it was after six. The energy bars had completely worn off. And she was not looking forward to biking all the way down the Hill and back to her house, only to have to clean up whatever mess her mother had left, and
then
cook.

Dylan laughed when he saw the hungry look in her eyes as she glanced at the empty Gammabar wrappers. “Told you, magic takes energy. Mind taking me up on that offer for some real food?”

“Oh God, yes,” she said fervently. “Are you going to magic it up or something?”

“Magic takes energy, remember? I’d burn off more than I would get from the food I’d make. Actually, I figured we’d sample some local cuisine. The next town over has a roadside stand that serves some mean lobster rolls. And fries made from real cut-today potatoes.”

“That sounds amazing.” She thought for a moment, then looked over her shoulder at her bicycle.

“Don’t worry, we’ll leave it here. I can hide it so that no one will be able to find it, save for you. So, what do you say?” He grinned at her…and she realized that all this time, when he’d smiled and grinned at her before, it hadn’t had the sort of nuances she was seeing now.
We’re in this together,
and
you’re special, and I am going to share things with you I wouldn’t share with anyone else.

“I say, I’m starving!” she said with enthusiasm. He turned to look at her bike; squinting a little, she could
see
the filaments of magic covering her bike, until it faded into the background and became invisible. They walked over to Metalhead, who revved with what sounded like happy pleasure. And at Dylan’s gesture, she climbed aboard, putting on a helmet he took out of the bike’s storage compartment.