Unleashed: The Deepest Fears Lie Within (Secrets of the Makai) (12 page)

“
That
was Donovan?” Tristan spotted Shaely, who looked to be arguing with one of her brothers. He pictured the man giving Victor the envelopes. “People seemed afraid of him.” Shaely especially. “And he looked so young, like one of us. Did you introduce me to him earlier?”

“No, he wasn’t here earlier.” Landon tucked his envelopes away. “He’s a little older than he looks. I wouldn’t say he likes it, but it doesn’t bother him that people react that way. He does his own thing and doesn’t go out of his way to be everyone’s best friend. He’s very powerful, and I’m more than a little grateful that he’s on our side.”

“I swear I’ve seen him before. I just can’t remember when.”

A long pause settled between them before Landon finally answered. “He’s in the Makai. He’s extremely loyal and neither Victor nor myself would hesitate to give our lives for him. He’s probably saved all of us more times than anyone can count.”

“Sounds dangerous if everyone needs saving that many times.”

“It’s not always dangerous if you’re careful and know what’s going on, but you can’t always watch your back. Another thing, we’re not to be discussing it like this. The Makai is a very private organization. Most everything we do is done anonymously. To talk about it in the open exhibits poor conduct and extreme disrespect.”

Tristan nodded. The subject of the Makai dropped as they headed back toward the fire.

“You should be done with Angelina’s class about lunchtime, here in the clearing, if you want to arrange something with Shaely.”

Tristan grinned at the thought. “Can I?”

Landon nodded, but didn’t look too happy about it. “You don’t need permission, just be smart about it and don’t leave the boundaries we set up for you.”

* * *

Tristan and Landon left Victor and Alvi to their die-hard music fans and walked back to the cabin in silence.

Landon lit the oil lamp, just inside the front door.

Tristan opened the envelope with Donovan’s seal. “Says to meet at Te Hono-i-Wairua.”

“It’s the same place we stopped at on the way in. No one is allowed to transport into his teaching area, so he’ll have the trail marked with small torches before and after class. You can hike up with the other students at the trailhead—I’d expect two, maybe three people at the most.”

“Starts at 9:30. At night, right?”

Landon nodded. “He’ll probably keep you ‘til midnight at least. Remember the fire pit? He uses the fire. Your other class won’t start until just before noon, so you have plenty of time to sleep in if you want.”

Tristan opened the other notice to confirm the time for himself. “Will I need anything?”

Landon took the paper and quickly skimmed. “Doesn’t look like it. You’ll meet at Grumpy’s for Basic Principles, probably outside if the weather’s decent. You remember the way?”

Tristan nodded.

“Victor and I will see you soon, within a few days if not tomorrow. Explore wherever you want and you’ll fit right in once you get to know the regulars. You’ll be fine.”

Tristan nodded, looking forward to seeing Shaely again. Meeting her almost made up for being pranked all night.

“Don’t forget to keep yourself hydrated. We’re at a much higher elevation than what you’re used to.”

“Got it.” Tristan pulled down a glass from a cupboard. “Thanks for having me.”

* * *

Tristan lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, bringing back the image of the man delivering the class announcements; angular shadows chiseled by orange firelight. The man couldn’t be older than twenty-five, and had such an intense, yet unemotional expression. Eleonora said he was beautiful to look at, and hard as a mountain to talk to. He’d forgotten the conversation until now, and still couldn’t remember when he’d seen the man before.

10
-
B
ASIC
P
RINCIPLES
-

WARM SUNLIGHT FLOODED the cabin, stirring the clean scent of spring flowers from the thick bed coverings. Tristan ran his fingers along the bare logs of the wall beside him, sanded smooth and oiled, comforted by the fact that the work appeared handcrafted. Somehow, the idea made the cabin seem more real, that it wasn’t just a figment of someone’s imagination.

This had been William’s cabin, a man supposedly possessed by a ghost named Jacques. Tristan shuddered at the thought.

His muscles were still a bit stiff when he slid out of bed, but his cuts and scrapes had healed, and after a quick shower, he made up his mind to stop dwelling on who was trying to make his life difficult, and who may or may not be hanging around as Jacques’ replacement in ghost form.

What did it matter if he didn’t fit in? Landon and Victor would be his friends. And he had Shaely to look forward to.

Just the thought of seeing her again put a smile on his face and made his heart beat a little faster.

In Grumpy’s clearing, picnic tables sat in random locations and a matted circle of grass, from where the stage and water tank had been, was the only evidence of the previous day’s events. A single structure hunkered down toward the back of the clearing—a simple A-framed cabin painted a rustic red.

Several groups of kids and adults enjoyed the crisp spring sunshine. Some played basketball while others gathered on picnic blankets. Groups of boys were having stunt contests, jumping from the cliff and cheering from below. He recognized Stanley among the older kids and a few of the others from the night before.

He gave slight waves whenever anyone noticed him.

A plump, older woman exited the A-framed cabin with a wide, shallow, bright blue box in her arms. She headed for the nearest table and set it down, skimming all the people in the clearing until her steely gray eyes settled on him. “Tristan, I presume?”

Tristan nodded, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He took a breath and tried to walk casually to meet her.

She looked like a very pleasant kindergarten teacher, wearing faded jeans and a long, earth-tone sweater. “Yeah, I’m Tristan.”

“I’m Angelina.” She held out her hand and Tristan was relieved to find her fingers warm and gentle. “We’ll do lots of fun things, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the class.”

Tristan stuffed his hands back in his pockets and glanced at the youngest kids chasing each other through the meadow, desperate to come up with a positive response. Surely Angelina would know his history, and he wouldn’t have to explain.

Too bad the class was taking place is such a public place, where everyone would be able to see what he was doing.

“We all have to begin somewhere,” she said as she pulled stacks of coloring books from the box. “I’d teach you one on one, but I’m quite busy raising my own family.”

“I understand.” Would Shaely show up after his class? She’d said she’d do her best to make it, but he didn’t even think about bringing food.... What would they do to pass the time?

Angelina clapped her hands and her voice rang out. “Come along, everyone. Let’s get started.”

The youngest children ran from various parts of the clearing, hurling themselves at the woman with hugs. Mothers stayed behind, gathering into groups of their own. He tried not to notice if they were looking at him, but he did, and they were.

“It’s so wonderful to see you all here. Most of you know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Angelina.”

Tristan squirmed uncomfortably, towering over everyone except Angelina. Why had he assumed everyone was new? He was probably the only one who didn’t have a clue.

“Find a place to sit,” she directed in a singsong tone.

The children responded quickly, some standing on the benches for a better view of what she had in the box. They barely guarded their thoughts.

Tristan focused on tuning them out and heard an adult conversation, drawing his attention to a table of parents near the creek. Some were reading books, others had sewing projects.
At least they have guards on him, but I still don’t think it’s safe to put him with the children.

I know! What if he has another accident? How many was it?

Guards? Tristan stared at the group of women. Did Landon and Victor have to warn everyone? He jerked at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, his breath jolting with panic.

Angelina leaped back.

“Oh my word, you scared me!” She laughed, patting her chest where her heart would be, then motioned for him to sit. “You must have been thinking too hard to hear me. Sit! Please!”

“There’s a guard on me?” He should have waited until he didn’t have an audience.

“Now why would you—” Angelina glanced at Stanley, who was standing near the basketball court, trying to look inconspicuous, and he knew the answer. She put a hand on his shoulder and dropped her voice to a whisper. “You’re very new to this way of thinking. With your age and inexperience, you might have strength and speed that I can’t stop. We’ll see how you do over the next few days, then we can make changes if it bothers you.”

Tristan shut his eyes and nodded. “Makes sense.”

Stanley was probably waiting for him to lash out.

Parents got back to whatever they were doing, pretending not to gawk. What could he do? Nothing. He sat on the edge of the bench, careful not to touch the poor child fated to sit next to him.

“The number one rule is that no forces shall be used against anyone, or your parents will be notified immediately and you’ll risk being expelled.”

Tristan stared at the table with his hands clasped in his lap. The whole concept was almost comical in a way. The children seemed honestly worried at the thought of their parents taking them from class. It was preschool through and through, but with deadly possibilities. How did anyone survive sibling rivalry? Who would teach the kids who got expelled?

“Tristan?”

Tristan straightened his spine, then scrunched back down to blend better. It was no use.

“Pay attention.” Angelina continued speaking after he nodded his apology. “We don’t want anyone getting hurt, so there will be no objects flying through the air, directed towards anyone. There will be no disrespectfulness, rude behavior, or teasing of any kind. We are
all
here to learn and have fun.”

She withdrew a folder from the box and handed each person a white sheet of paper with a triangle, square, and circle printed on it. She then placed a large tin of crayons and colored markers where everyone could reach. The kids got excited and grabbed for good colors.

“Ah ah ah….” Angelina chided, waving her index finger at the kids. “No fingers.”

The children slumped to their seats with cute pouts that made Tristan smile.

“You have permission to use your mind.”

Tristan straightened with sudden interest. Crayons and colored pens leaped from the tin, colliding in a mass of chaos before landing on papers in front of each child. The crayon he chose seemed to travel down an invisible slope in the wrong direction. He snatched it before it could get out of reach and looked around to see what would happen next. None of the children noticed and most began coloring on their papers. While talking to each other.

“Try and notice the properties,” Angelina said, standing beside him. “Memorize what you see, then control the pattern as a single object.”

“They’re doing all that?”

“They’re not trying to analyze the process, so it’s easier for them. Crayons without wrappers are less troublesome, due to the lack of additional properties to consider. Ink pens are the most challenging, due to the combination of plastic, ink, and felt. You’ll sell yourself short if you start relying on the air to carry the crayon for you—that’s what we call cheating. Understand the concept?”

“Not really.” He watched crayons and markers coloring shapes in large squiggles, without being held by anyone. Without strings or magnetic trickery. No one stayed in the pre-drawn lines, reckless and carefree.

Tristan stared at his crayon, trying to incorporate Gram’s instructions in manipulating the deck of cards. It hovered toward the waiting circle, then shattered into dust, spilling out of its wrapper like sand from an hourglass. Mortified, he shook off the mess under the table before anyone might see.

“Try again, without so much pressure.” Angelina smiled pleasantly and walked on.

Pressure?
Tristan stared at the tin of crayons and markers, feeling like a hopeless giant in a world of fragile things. Would Stanley report everything he did to Landon and Victor?

The children were becoming restless, trading pictures with each other. Angelina brought out a stack of colored paper, scissors, and glue. “For those of you wanting to move on, you may cut out your shapes and glue them to new paper. Remember,” she sang, “no fingers!”

She was giving the children blades? Metal scissors danced in the air, snapping open and shut, inches from little fingers keeping the paper steady. Scraps flew in all directions like tiny snowflakes.

“Tristan, I need your help with something.”

Tristan glanced up at Angelina, relieved to be called away from the mayhem.

“Since I cannot read your mind, like the others, you’ll have to actually tell me what’s going on. Do you truly not wish to learn something here?”