The Inner Circle (Return of the Ancients Book 3) (19 page)

I watched Betty and her kids, and I was awed by the love in the room. And suddenly, I was a little jealous.

I think Betty saw it on my face.

Glancing over at me, she said, “We still have room in our family. I’ve always thought ten kids would be a good number.”

Al just laughed.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind having two daughters,” Betty continued, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “I know you have a mother, honey. I’m not trying to take her place. But if you want, you can always think of me as a backup.”

My throat tightened with emotion. I managed a sort of garbled shy laugh. “Who says you can’t have more than one mom?” I asked, tightly squeezing her hand.

I’d called her “Mom” to myself already, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that.

As Ellison’s Volkswagen rumbled up the driveway, Grace bellowed, “Time to open Christmas presents!”

It was a madhouse, but a happy madhouse. Presents were launched through the air like footballs, and soon I found myself surrounded by a pile of brightly colored bags and boxes.

I’d never had so many presents before. Betty gave me an insanely comfortable sweatshirt, Grace had made me Christmas socks, and even though Al had already given me a cell phone, he handed me a box. In it was an EMF meter to measure paranormal activity.

I wondered if an EMF meter would be able to sense the mutant tulpa.

Tigger’s present was an entire package of generic hotdogs. He greeted it with wild excitement. Well, Tigger’s version of wild excitement: a semi-rapid thump of the tail. And after downing the entire package, he curled up under the table for a nap. Apparently, eating that many hotdogs was exhausting.

I sat on my knees next to Al as he watched everyone chattering in the room. His face glowed with paternal pride. And I felt the love in the room. Though each one had come from an entirely different background, they were a family.

Reaching back, Grace pulled me into the circle, and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged. I looked around. It was funny that I’d come to think of that obnoxious, blue-painted rambler as home.

There was no denying it. In spite of everything that was going on, I felt like it was the perfect Christmas.

After lunch, I volunteered to feed the chickens the scraps, and slipping into my new sweatshirt, I walked slowly through the newly fallen snow.

I’d learned something interesting that morning.

You could find a family later in life. It didn’t really matter that I hadn’t had them all along. I’d found them now.

After taking care of the chickens, I darted back inside the house, but the mood had changed.

There was a decided hush in the room.

And then I heard Maya’s voice.

“There you are, Sydney. Go pack your things. I’ve met the most wonderful man, I can’t wait for you to meet him! He’s a truck driver, and he wants to take us to Denver with him right now.”

My mother Maya stood just inside the door. She was wearing a black skirt with matching boots, and her dark hair was combed into a topknot.

I just stared at her, stunned. The only thing I could think of to say was, “Merry Christmas, Maya.”

Maya just looked at me, confused.

There was an awkward silence.

“Well, are you coming?” she finally asked.

“Do I have a choice?” I choked a little. I’d always gone wherever Maya wanted. But now I was eighteen.
Did
I have a choice?

The question must have been written on my face because Betty suddenly stepped up and put a comforting arm around my shoulders.

“You have a choice, honey,” she said. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Yessiree,” Al boomed.

“It’d be hard to switch schools in the middle of your senior year,” Grace chimed in and then got a little embarrassed and backpedaled a bit. “Not that I’m trying to tell you what to do or anything…”

“Why don’t we give Neelu a call?” Betty suggested. “Maya, can I get you some tea?”

I looked over at Maya.

She didn’t look particularly upset. She was adjusting her skirt and inspecting her nails. “Well, make up your mind,” she said to me, ignoring Betty. “Matt’s waiting for me, you know. He’s really quite the catch, Sydney. I really think he might be the
one
.”

How many times had I heard her say that?

I suddenly didn’t want to hear it anymore.

And I most certainly didn’t want to go. I belonged with Al and Betty, and I just knew that they genuinely wanted me far more than Maya ever had.

Betty kept patting my shoulder as Al hovered nearby. And every time I looked at him, he gave me an encouraging nod.

“We’d love to have you stay, kiddo,” he said.

I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t leave them. The mere thought was upsetting. Far more upsetting than telling Maya good-bye and wishing her well.

“Can we call Neelu?” I asked, clearing my throat.

But Maya didn’t like that. I could tell by the way she was frowning. “Matt’s waiting for me,” she said. Giggling a little, she turned to Betty. “Well, Betty. Oh my, it
is
Betty, isn’t it? That’s your name?”

Betty just smiled warmly and nodded.

“It looks like Sydney wants to stay here and finish school. I’m not sure about the paperwork, do I need to sign anything?” She smoothed her skirt over her hips and continued, “I really need to hurry. I don’t have time to call the social worker.”

Betty assured her that everything was fine and that nothing needed to be changed that day. And she promised to contact Neelu herself to let her know what was going on.

I wondered if Neelu even knew that Maya was showing up out of the blue.

Maya was obviously relieved. Grabbing my hands, she did a little dance. “Oh, I’m off on an adventure then, Sydney. Off to Denver. I’ll call you when I get there, and you can visit if you want.” She looked downright giddy.

“Sounds great, Maya,” I said woodenly.

“Matt’s waiting, so I’m going to go now.” Maya squeezed my hands and then with a wave and another giggle, she left.

I stayed there for a few minutes, part of me was surprised at how fast she’d disappeared. It made me feel like she’d been waiting for me to turn eighteen my entire life so she’d finally be free.

And that made me wonder how fast Al and Betty expected me to move out. I supposed it was as soon as I graduated high school. Or was it before? Technically, I was eighteen, capable of taking care of myself.

“Would you like some tea, honey?” Betty asked, her arm still around my shoulders.

“Maybe I should call Neelu,” I said, focusing my eyes on the door. “You know, to find out when I’m supposed to leave here.”

“Leave?” Al repeated. “No one’s telling you to leave, kiddo. You’re part of the family now.”

I scowled hard in order to keep the tears in check. Clearing my throat, I asked, “So, do I have the rest of the school year before the government checks run out?”

Al and Betty exchanged a glance before she
 drew me into the kitchen and said, “We’ve got something to show you.”

I leaned against the counter as she took out a manila folder from one of the cabinets. There were a bunch of papers in it from Child Protective Services and a small bankbook. Betty handed the bankbook to me.

“We don’t spend your money, Sydney,” she said, opening it. “The check we get every month goes right in here for you. We’re hoping it’ll help for college or whatever you plan to do with your life.”

I just stared at her and then glanced down. I could see entries for each month.

“So you see, we’re not waiting for you to move out. You can stay for as long as you like,” Betty finished with a warm hug. “We aren’t doing this for money. When Neelu told me your story, I just couldn’t help it. I wanted to bring you here.”

It was overwhelming. My throat closed up with emotion. I didn’t know what to do.

Grace was leaning against the countertop. She shot me a sympathetic look.

Al switched on the radio and began to sing Christmas carols, and the zany coziness of the house resumed.

Over the next hour, each of Grace’s brothers made it a point to welcome me into the family, and each of them told me tidbits of their own troubled and unstable lives before Al and Betty had found them. They’d all been foster kids, coming to Al and Betty’s house in their teens.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Every single one of Betty’s foster kids called her “Mom”.

Turns out Grace’s story was pretty sad, too. Both of her biological parents were in prison and weren’t getting out anytime soon. They’d given her to the state when she was eight, and none of her relatives had wanted her because of her behavioral issues. She’d arrived at Al and Betty’s on her thirteenth birthday. And as they say, the rest is history.

All of their stories made my life seem pretty tame, and it definitely was a bonding experience. Afterwards, I knew that I’d truly found a home.

By the time we’d all finished, it was getting pretty late.

I had to work the next day, so I told everyone goodnight and escaped to my room.

Galahad was right where I’d left him, perched on the edge of the curtain rod.

I hadn’t had much time to think of him, or tulpas, or Jareth, or Melody.

Or, of course, of Rafael.

My dream the previous night had seemed so real. I supposed I’d imagined him because I really did love him, and I didn’t want to give him up.

He was right.

I really couldn’t fool fate. I could pretend I didn’t care for him. And even though I might never see him again for the rest of my life, I knew that I would
still
love him.

Fate would know that.

I closed my eyes, and not wanting to feel any more pain, I refused to let myself think of him any longer.

I rubbed my temples. I had a splitting headache.

In the kitchen, I could hear Al singing and the laughter of Grace’s brothers. They all sounded so happy.

Trying to think only happy thoughts—after all, it was Christmas—I tickled Jerry’s stomach and then decided to clean his cage.

I didn’t let Jerry loose on the bed like I usually did. After all, I had Galahad there, and I didn’t quite trust him where Jerry was concerned.

After seeing Jerry’s cage clean and his dish filled with seeds, I grabbed the plastic bag of dirty litter and headed outside to dump it into the trash.

Everyone was in the family room watching TV, except Al. He was sitting at the kitchen table writing in a notebook. He gave me a friendly wave as I passed by. I smiled. He was still wearing his Faraday cap.

It was snowing as I stepped outside. The weather had turned cold.

I darted across the yard and tossed the bag into the trashcan next to the garage. And I was about ready to run back into the warm house when a flicker of light caught my eye.

It was coming from Rafael’s house.

I hesitated. I’d thought he’d already left.

For a moment, I was tempted to run over and knock on the door, but then I thought better of it. It could very well be Melody over there.

Dashing back into the house, I ducked into my room.

I sat down on the bed, feeling strangely unsettled.

For a brief moment, I thought about making Tigger sleep in my room, but he had looked so comfortable snoring under the kitchen table with his paws twitching and his tongue hanging out that I didn’t have the heart to disturb the old dog.

Besides, I reminded myself, I still had Galahad. The white pigeon was still perched on the edge of the curtain rod with his head tucked under his wing. He appeared to be sleeping, but I figured it was just a pretense. I was pretty sure he never slept and never missed anything.

Going out to borrow Betty’s radio, I returned to my room, and with Al’s baseball cap firmly on my head, I collapsed into bed.

Tuning the radio to a station which played soft Christmas music, I thought it set the right kind of mood for me to work on my Pikachu tulpa.

Tomorrow, I was going to pin Jareth down and pry information from him. I needed to know what Blondie was up to and learn more about the Brotherhood’s portal.

I pulled Al’s cap closer about my head. It was uncomfortable, but I felt more comfortable with it than without.

I genuinely tried to work on my Pikachu tulpa for a while. But it was hard to summon happiness. I kept trying to envision Pikachu happily dancing along, but I could only succeed for about three seconds before I would start thinking of Rafael.

After a time, I gave up entirely and just closed my eyes, listening to the Christmas music mingling with the squeak of Jerry’s wheel. Finally, I switched off Betty’s radio and collapsed back into bed.

Galahad was still perched on the curtain rod above me. He hadn’t moved.

I was just about ready to tell him good night when I heard a soft whisper coming through the radio.

I frowned. I could have sworn I’d turned it off.

Annoyed with myself, I sat up. But as I reached for the switch, a chill crept down my back.

The switch was already off.

Then I heard a voice ricocheting through the room. “Sydney, it is time!”

I froze, stunned into inaction.

“Sydney!”

A shadow rose behind Jerry’s cage. It started out as a long line, growing taller and wider and eventually turned into the man with the top hat. He was much clearer than ever before.

I opened my mouth to scream, and as I lunged for the door, he slipped in front of me, blocking my way.

I didn’t think twice.

Running to the window, I yanked it open. I have no recollection of climbing through. I just know that I was standing in the cold snow, and my socks were getting wet.

Frantically, I thought of Jareth’s numbers.

But this time, he didn’t come.

The man with the top hat floated to the window, and I heard his voice whisper through the opening, “You are very strong, Sydney, but not yet strong enough.”

I didn’t know if it was a criticism or a compliment.

And I didn’t stay to find out. I made up my mind in an instant. If Jareth wasn’t coming, I was going over to him.

I set out at a dead run, cutting across the street and slipping on Rafael’s front porch in my wet socks.