The Tower (10 page)

But there was someone else too.

Treading water near the deep end of the pool, there was a teenage girl with unnaturally bright red hair that almost came down to her shoulders. If it weren’t for her near-florescent hair, I might not have noticed her at all, but this girl seemed to be eyeing Alia and me ever since we finished our lunch break. I could almost feel her eyes on my back, but every time I glanced in her direction, it looked as if she had just turned her head away from me. I remembered how Cindy had once accused me of being paranoid.

I had just about concluded that Cindy was right when I heard a voice behind me say, “Hey there.”

Turning around, I found myself looking into the face of the red-haired girl. She was wearing a black bikini and she had deep hazel eyes and a few light freckles on her cheeks and nose. She wasn’t exactly muscular, but certainly athletic, and tall enough to comfortably stand in the water. In fact, she was nearly a head taller than me, but very pretty nevertheless. Fortunately, I was standing two yards closer to the shallow end of the pool, which made the height difference a bit less obvious. Alia was still practicing her breaststroke a few yards away.

“Hi,” I said nervously. I had next to no experience talking to girls, and I hoped I didn’t sound too awkward.

“Are you really him?” the red-haired girl asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Am I really who?” I asked back, feeling that the conversation had already jumped well off the edge of reasonable bounds.

“Adrian Howell, of course,” said the girl. “Who else?”

My eyes nearly popped. “Yes.”

“Oh...” she said, looking me over as if examining road kill. “Well, you’ll have to prove it.”

“Who are you?” I asked, instantly suspicious of her. She wasn’t exactly my image of an Angel spy, but then again, I hadn’t met any yet.

She ignored my question and asked, “What’s under the Band-Aid?”

“A number. Who are you?”

“I’m Terry, your combat instructor.”

I gaped at her. “You’re my instructor?”

“That’s right,” the girl answered brightly. “I was going to come by for dinner tonight, but something came up so I went to your house early. Ms. Gifford told me you were here.”

“You’re my instructor?” I asked again.

She laughed. “I think I just answered that.”

“But – but, you’re a... you’re a...”

“A what?” she asked, grinning wickedly. “A girl? Don’t make me beat you up in public, Adrian.”

I finally pushed through my sputtering. “You’re Terry?!”

“Yes, I am Terry,” she said exasperatedly. “You know, Adrian, you’re not exactly how I pictured you, either.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Terry shrugged. “I was expecting someone older.”

“Older than you?”

“No, older than ten. Mr. Baker told me you were thirteen.”

“I am,” I replied through clenched teeth.

“Oh, well, then I guess he was right,” Terry said lightly.

“Addy, who is she?”
asked Alia, dog paddling up to us.

“It’s okay, Alia,” I said, turning to her. “You can talk to her. This is Terry. She’s my... uh... combat instructor.”

Alia wasn’t tall enough to put her feet down here so she grabbed my arm for support. I introduced her to Terry, saying, “Terry, this is Alia, my...”

My what? I glanced at Alia, remembering how Cindy had asked me what had really been bothering me over my first week in New Haven. Alia looked up at me, and as our eyes met, I suddenly found myself back in Level 11 with her, in the final seconds of the countdown.

“Your what?” asked Terry, and I snapped back into the present.

I gave Alia a smile and said, “My sister.”

Terry looked curiously at Alia, who was grinning from ear to ear, and I added a bit uneasily, “Sort of.”

“Well, hello, Alia,” said Terry, reaching out to shake her hand. I couldn’t be sure, but I guessed Alia was saying hello too. And to her credit, Alia didn’t even flinch once before shaking Terry’s hand.

Then Terry turned to me again and said, “Well, I’m glad I got you right on the first try, anyway. I couldn’t see your bullet scars from the far side of the pool, but you’re wearing the pendant Ms. Gifford described. The Band-Aid was a real giveaway, too. Ms. Gifford said you’re hiding a barcode under there.”

Alia started giggling as I said, “It’s not a barcode! It’s an ID number.”

“She says it makes you look like a cyborg.”

“Well, that’s Cindy for you,” I said, laughing lightly.

“Can I see?” asked Terry.

“Not here. If you’re really my combat instructor, I guess I’ll be seeing you pretty often, right?”

“More often than you’d probably like,” Terry said with a mischievous smile.

“You didn’t come out here just to look at my tattoo, did you?”

“Of course not. When I heard you were here, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for a quick fitness test. Would you do a few laps around the pool with me, Adrian?”

“Okay, sure,” I said, and turned to Alia. “Ali, go over to the kiddie pool.”

That wiped the ridiculous smile off her face.
“Addy!”

“Now, Alia! This won’t take too long.”

As Alia huffed and pulled herself out of the pool, I turned to Terry and asked, “Is this a race?”

“No,” she replied. “Swim at your own pace. I’ll follow. Stop when you get tired.”

“Easy enough,” I said.

Something told me that I had no chance at all of swimming for longer than Terry could, but I wasn’t about to make it easy for her to keep up with me. I wasn’t a bad swimmer, but nor was I exactly in top physical condition, having had little real exercise in months. This last week had painfully shown me how out of shape I was.

I tried to swim at my own pace, but it wasn’t easy knowing Terry was right behind me. The occasional glimpses I caught of her told me that she was keeping up with much too little effort. The way my heart was pounding when I finally decided I couldn’t swim anymore, it was a wonder that I didn’t need rescuing.

“Well, that was enlightening,” said Terry as I desperately clutched the side of the pool for support.

“Meaning?” I asked, breathing heavily.

“We have work to do,” said Terry, clearly no more impressed than she was worn out. “We’ll start tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

“I thought we were going to start next week.”

“What are you doing tomorrow, then?” she asked.

I thought for a moment. “Nothing...”

“Then I’ll see you at 10am in the dojo,” said Terry as she pulled herself out of the pool.

“Where’s the dojo?” I asked, looking up at her.

Terry looked surprised. “Haven’t you ever been down to the gathering place?”

“No.”

“Oh. Then how about I come get you at your penthouse?”

“Is it okay?”

“Sure,” said Terry. “I’ll be there at ten o’clock. Don’t forget to cut your nails short, or you might lose them, okay?”

Terry turned and walked briskly toward the exit. Still not entirely over my surprise, I watched her dazedly as she disappeared into the changing rooms. Then I heaved myself out of the water.

Alia came running up to me.

“Did you really mean it?”
she asked.

I gave her a confused look. “Mean what?”

“That I’m your sister, of course!”

“Oh, well, yeah,” I said awkwardly. “I guess you are.”

Alia jumped on me, pushing us both into the pool. As I watched her splash merrily around me, tugging at me and calling my name over and over in my head, I finally realized how much my admission of family had meant to her. Embarrassed by her antics, I did my best not to show it, but it meant a good deal to me too.

We stayed at the pool for the rest of the day, and barely got home in time for dinner.

When she saw us return, Cindy asked me in an overly casual tone, “So, what did you think of your new instructor?”

“You set me up!” I laughed. “You told me Terry was a boy!”

“No I didn’t. You just assumed,” said Cindy, laughing also. “So, what’d you think of her?”

“She’s a bit blunt,” I said. I told Cindy what Terry’s first question to me was.

Cindy chuckled, saying, “Terry isn’t the most polite person I’ve ever met, and she is a bit on the wild side too, but she’s a good kid at heart.”

“Yeah, but how am I going to learn how to fight from her? I mean, she’s a... a...”

“A girl?” Cindy asked sweetly.

I threw my hands into the air. “Well, yeah!”

Cindy laughed. “I guess you’ll just have to let her hit you first.”

That night, Cindy took much longer than usual tucking Alia into bed.

Once Cindy came back to the living room, we meditated together for nearly an hour, but my concentration was completely shot. I eventually gave up and opened my eyes. I was sitting facing the largest window, and much of our living room was reflected in the glass. But through that reflection, I could also make out the lights from the buildings around us, and I saw the half moon slowly inching its way up into a calm, cloudless night sky. It was a beautiful night, but I knew that somewhere out there were people who wanted to kill or conquer us.

“Do you think I’ll need it?” I whispered, gazing out the window.

“Combat training?” Cindy asked without opening her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know me, Adrian. I hate all forms of violence. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how to defend yourself. I’d hate for you to ever need it, but I’d hate it more if you needed it and didn’t have it.”

“Did you ever learn?” I asked.

“I’m not a Guardian Knight.”

“Right.”

“Oh, and Adrian,” said Cindy, finally opening her eyes and looking at me, “I was really happy about what you did for Alia today.”

When I didn’t reply, Cindy added, “She told me that you called her your sister.”

I cringed. Considering how long Cindy had taken tucking Alia in today, I knew that they had been talking about something, but I had been hoping Alia wouldn’t make such a big deal of it.

“It must have been difficult for you,” Cindy said quietly.

“It wasn’t,” I said, looking down at my hands. “I thought it would be harder, but I guess I was just upset with Mr. Baker. I mean, I really do feel bad about Cat. But you were right, what you said to me back when we were on our way to Mark’s. There’s no point in pretending we’re not family.”

Cindy stood up and gave my shoulders a quick squeeze. “I hope you won’t be mad, Adrian, but Alia asked me about your sister, and I told her a little.”

“I probably should have told her myself, a long time ago.”

I yawned, and Cindy said, “Bedtime.”

“Can I ask you a really strange question, Cindy?”

“Sure.”

“Does Alia ever call you Mom?”

“Sometimes, she does,” answered Cindy, smiling serenely. “I introduced myself as Cindy when we met, so that’s what she usually calls me. But when she’s sleepy, or she has a really bad nightmare, sometimes she calls me Mommy. Why?”

“I was just curious.”

Yawning again, I quickly said goodnight to Cindy. Entering my bedroom, I wasn’t too surprised to see that Alia was still awake, lying quietly in the darkened room with her eyes wide open.

“What is the point,” I asked, half-amused, “of having a bedtime for you if you don’t actually go to sleep?”

Alia looked over at me.
“Addy, Cindy told me about your sister. Your real sister. She told me why you never let me be your sister until today.”

I sat down on the edge of her bed and stroked her long walnut-brown hair. “You were always my sister, Alia,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry I ever said you weren’t.”