Unleashed: The Deepest Fears Lie Within (Secrets of the Makai) (11 page)

“Thanks,” Tristan muttered. He caught Victor’s eye and grimaced when the only response was a jerk of his head in the direction the rest of the team had gone. “We searched there, didn’t we?” he asked Shaely.

She shrugged and brushed the sand from her jeans.

At the base of a rock-climbing wall, Tristan gave the youngest boy a boost to help him reach the first handhold. Stanley sat straddled at the top, helping everyone over. Tristan beamed up at Shaely, who seemed to defy gravity as she made her way up the wall. As for himself, footholds seemed to vanish when he put his full weight on them.

Where was Victor? Wasn’t there a rule that forces wouldn’t be used against anyone? No one else seemed to be having issues with handles and footholds disappearing. He pulled himself to the top, not trusting his feet, barely trusting the main beam, and didn’t dare take Stanley’s hand without footing.

“Suit yourself,” Stanley said, withdrawing his hand. “But don’t make us lose for your own damn pride.”

Stanley jumped from the top, out of sight. Tristan leaned his head against the wall, his grip trembling, and took a breath to steel his nerves.

With one final pull, he swung his legs over the top and rolled down a cargo net slide. It tangled around his ankles, broke in one corner, and flipped, leaving him hanging upside down within a foot of the ground.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Tristan.” Victor pulled a pocketknife from his back pocket and cut him free. “I’ve never seen anyone have this much trouble.”

Tristan caught himself and dropped to his knees.

Victor stopped him when he tried to join his waiting team, whispering in his ear. “Landon’s looking into it.”

Tristan nodded, glad they were at least noticing.

The next part of the course brought them back into the clearing, on the far side of the carnival—a Frisbee relay that involved using the keys from the sand. Alvi met them at the starting line, handing them each a balloon and explaining the rules.

The team made the first station in three Frisbee throws, where they unlocked a small hand mirror with a letter Z written in purple lipstick. At the second station, they unlocked a box of birthday cake candles.

“We can catch up!” Stanley shouted, watching the other team at the 3rd station. “Go long!”

Tristan ran toward the third station, a pole with a green flag at the top. Stanley threw the Frisbee. It flew straight toward him in a perfect arc, until a breeze took it slightly off course. Tristan sprinted to keep up with it, but it seemed to hover just out of reach.

He
had
to make this catch. It would make up for everything he’d messed up so far.

“Let it go, Tristan!” Victor called.

Was he serious? Not in a million years would he give up and quit in front of everyone. In front of Shaely.

The ledge came out of nowhere.

He dropped into a slide to stop his momentum, twisting onto his belly to grab hold of something. There should have been plenty of room, but he kept sliding. And sliding. The tips of his fingers scraped against solid ground, slicing through his skin, until there was nothing but air beneath him.

A long drop of frantic arm-waving got him upright before he hit the water, which seemed to rise up at the last second, surrounding him like a warm glove.

The impact never came, though he sank rather suddenly until a cold current near the bottom propelled him to the far side. His knees hit a sandy ground and he pushed with his feet, gasping for air at the surface, only to find the water waist deep.

Landon, Victor, and Shaely were standing at the edge of the cliff, peering down at him from above. He half-heartedly waved to signify he was alive and turned away. His fingertips were bleeding, along with his arms and stomach. He laid down in the dry grass, relieved to be alone beneath the darkening sky.

Pull another stunt like that—

You never said I couldn’t have a little fun....

It was a man talking to a younger person. Tristan sat up to listen. He’d need proof if he was going to tell Victor and Landon anything. Light, crunching footsteps drew his attention to a zigzagging trail leading up the mountain.

Victor appeared in front of him. “Why didn’t you stop yourself?”

Tristan stared at Victor with his mouth hanging open, not sure what to do if his friend admitted to being involved. “I thought you knew I couldn’t swim.”

“You think
I
pushed you?” Victor asked, his look of concern turning defensive at the accusation. “The only responsibility I’ll take is that it might have been getting too dark to use that section of the field. Alvi and I probably should’ve fenced it off, or we could have set up glaring flood lights in case someone wasn’t paying attention to where they were going.”

“It’s not that I didn’t see it, and I just heard someone talking about ‘stunts like that’ and ‘having a little fun’. If you weren’t in on it, then who?”

“There’s no one down here but us.” Victor handed over the poncho. “Come on, Tristan. You were having fun. Don’t let it end now.”

“You yourself said someone was tampering with the course.”

“I never said that. Nobody at this party would purposely push you off the cliff, and for you to think so...I’m just saying we aren’t like that. None of us are.”

“I tried to stop.”

“You did not! Why didn’t you use your freaking brain?”

Tristan opened his mouth to deny it, then forced it shut. The thought had never occurred to him. “I thought we weren’t supposed to use magic.”

“It’s
not
magic. It’s called using your brain.” Victor tapped the side of Tristan’s head to make his point. “Do we have to spell everything out for you? Seriously. If you feel like your life is threatened, or that you’re in any sort of real danger, feel free to make an attempt at saving yourself. Even if you’re in the middle of some stupid game.” Victor waited for a response, softening his tone after Tristan’s silence. “We are more than happy to keep you protected from Lazaro, but we can’t hold your hand all the time, or protect you from yourself.”

Tristan stared at the ground, not knowing how to respond. He didn’t want to return to the party, but didn’t want to be on his own either. He put the poncho on over his head and felt utter failure as his vision lightened with the blue hue.

“That shouldn’t have happened.”

Tristan shrugged, still unable to look Victor in the eye. “Maybe I don’t belong here.”

“This is exactly where you belong! There’s still food left, which means the party’s still going. If you really think someone’s trying to scare you off, don’t give them the satisfaction of succeeding.”

Tristan nodded, then glanced up to see Shaely waiting for him.

Victor followed his gaze and grinned back at him. “You can have fun,” he said. “And remember, the tracker would have gone off if it was someone playing in the games, so that cuts down our suspects.”

9
-
C
LASS
S
CHEDULE
-

TRISTAN WATCHED VICTOR GO and tried to put himself in a better mood for Shaely. She held out a white linen cloth. “Your hands are bleeding.”

“Thanks.” Tristan accepted the fabric and grimaced as blood from his fingertips left red blotches. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You can keep it.”

Her smile cheered him immensely and they started the hike up the hill.

“Did I hear you say you couldn’t swim?”

“I just don’t like the water.”

“My brothers and I spar in the water sometimes. Definitely raises the stakes.”

“For fun?”

“Yeah, I guess. We all train together.”

“For what?”

“It’s kind of embarrassing.” She hooked her arm around his as they walked side by side. “Family traditions. What about you?”

The path leveled out and they headed toward the fire where everyone seemed to be gathering. Suddenly, there were a lot of things he didn’t want to talk about. “Is that who you were with earlier? Your brothers?”

“Yeah. They’re running around somewhere. Probably looking for me.”

They sat on a log and listened to Victor playing guitar while Alvi sang. People in the crowd hardly noticed how good they were, but shouted requests now and then. Victor and Alvi could perform anything. Everything.

“They’re pretty good,” Shaely said. “What was his name again?”

“Victor. And that’s his girlfriend, Alvi.”

“Do they have an album out?”

Tristan shrugged. “I actually didn’t know he could play.”

“You didn’t? I thought...well, I guess I assumed you guys were pretty tight—you, Victor, and that long-haired guy. What was his name again?”

“Landon.” Tristan tensed, guessing the gig was up if he couldn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. “Like I said, I’m really new. They’re helping me get settled.”

“With your family?”

“No, just me.”

“Lucky you!”

“Yeah. Lucky.” Tristan straightened when he spotted Landon weaving through the crowd.

Victor went off key and the music stopped. Tristan searched for the cause. All night, he’d been waiting for something more to go wrong.

A young man dressed in a solid black suit stood behind Victor. The crowd froze with a suffocating silence. Shaely gripped Tristan’s arm as the man handed Victor a narrow satchel.

People around the fire started moving after he dissolved into darkness.

“Holy crap! Do you know who that was?” Shaely glanced behind her, searching anxiously for something. Or someone.

Everyone swarmed around Victor and Alvi, chattering excitedly while Victor removed a bundle of white envelopes, each sealed with different wax colors. Alvi called out names.

Tristan frowned with concentration. He’d seen the man before, hadn’t he? When? He watched curiously as Victor called out names, shuffling through the envelopes.

“Got a minute?” Landon asked, showing Tristan two envelopes. “I have your classes.”

Tristan glanced at Shaely—so unlike Dorian, and so incredibly easy to get along with.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I need to find my brothers, but I can wait a few minutes if you promise to come back.”

Tristan smiled his thanks, then followed Landon toward the firelight where most of the crowd gathered, comparing schedules. Both envelopes had his name printed in block letters.

“Open it and see what they gave you.”

Tristan opened the first envelope and handed the notice to Landon for translation.

“Perfect. Angelina is very nice, you’ll like her.” Landon refolded the paper and handed it back. “Introductory to Basic Principles.”

“Hey! I have that too!” said a young girl, who couldn’t be older than five.

Tristan noticed a wave of strange looks from surrounding people who’d overheard.

“Come on,” Landon said, taking him by the shoulder, away from the crowd.

“So, it’ll be like kindergarten with a bunch of five-year-olds?” Tristan glanced back at Shaely, who grinned in return.

“In a way,” Landon said, following Tristan’s attention to Shaely. “She likes you. But there’s guilt, too. And your class won’t be like kindergarten, it’s more of a starting point. Everyone starts somewhere. You’ll be seen as Angelina’s assistant.”

“Guilt as in, maybe she already has a boyfriend? I don’t think I asked....”

“I only get the emotions, not the motives.” Landon held out his hand and a small lantern appeared, casting a tiny circle of amber light. Tristan accepted the lantern while Landon opened both of his envelopes. “I’m sure you’ll move through the classes quickly and let’s face it, you really do need to start at the beginning. You can barely control what you do know, and you didn’t even try to prevent yourself from sailing off the cliff.”

“I did try!” Tristan lowered his voice so as not to cause a scene. “But it’s not like magic was the first thing that entered my mind.” His anger resurfaced and he glanced at the trees to make sure they were alone. “Fine. I admit it. The thought never occurred to me.” Tristan examined his fingertips and forearms and noticed they’d almost healed completely. Way faster than he would have expected.

“It’s not magic, but my point exactly. And try not to be so mad about it, you just need to learn basic fundamentals to acquire some instincts. Let me see your other notice.”

Tristan handed over the second envelope.

Landon held the colored seal to the light and paused for an uncomfortably long moment.

“What is it? Is it bad?”

“It’s fine. I just thought he was going to hold off for a while.”

“Who?”

“Donovan.”

Tristan studied the shifting shadows of the forest. “You said he teaches History. That’s okay, right?” Though the thought of returning to the fire pit sent nervous jitters through his bones.

“You’ll enjoy his class, whatever subject he decides on. Half the time, you’ll learn stuff you didn’t realize he was teaching. Donovan was the one who delivered the notices to Victor.”