Shadows (27 page)

I hadn’t noticed it in the house—maybe our remaining
gruuaa
had figured out how to block it?—maybe I just wasn’t awake enough. But outdoors I could still feel that creepy it’s-behind-you-and-it-isn’t-friendly new armydar. Were they still at it? Ugh. It was like finding out the playground bully was waiting for you when you’d been hoping he’d given up and gone home. Green pond scum.
Smelly
green
dreeping
pond scum.

And there were still soldiers at the end of our road. Bugsuck.
Shimatta.
We turned around. At this end Station butted up against what was kind of the edge of the barrens. There was a jagged hedge of little trees between the last of the houses and the scrub that gave way pretty soon to the barrens. You could make your way along the far side of the trees (it was pretty rough going but all the local dog walkers did it), and then duck back in again when you got to the next street. We went up Singh Lane. There were no soldiers at the end of it. We stopped on the corner and looked around. From there you could see five streets dead-ending into Ramage, this side of town’s main avenue through Station: Jaboli, Singh, Jenkins, Korngold, and Drisk. Only Jaboli had soldiers on it.

When we got back, Ran was eating cereal and my algebra book was still lying next to my knapsack. Mongo, who knew perfectly well what my school knapsack and rushing around in the morning meant, was doing his, You-don’t-mean-you’re-leaving-me-
again
-you-call-that-a-
walk
? and getting in the way. It seemed to me a little more intense than usual, but if he and Hix were now great friends, he probably knew she was coming with me, and I don’t suppose a dog gets it about semi-visible and mostly intangible being easier to sneak past the teachers.

I was stuffing a piece of toast in my mouth when I heard Jill’s wheels crunch on the driveway. “I will see you this afternoon,” I said, getting down on my knees to give Mongo a hug. When I stood up, Val was standing in the hallway. I hesitated. I didn’t really know what terms we were on with each other. Even remembering Takahiro—and the conversation coming home in the car—it was still really hard to stop thinking of Val as a villain and start thinking of him as a hero, like turning a page in a book. In books that kind of thing really annoys me. Even when the person who was wrong about the other person who is really a hero has been being a creepazoid, which I guess was me.

He gave me a little nod, as foreign as his shrug.

“Morning,” I said. “Sorry. Jill’s waiting.”

He stood aside immediately, but said, “How are you?” His voice was furry with sleep, and it seemed to me his accent was stronger than usual, like it took him a while to fit back into his Newworld life in the morning. I could relate to the fitting-back-into-reality problem. But I’d spoken to him yesterday morning too. I guessed I’d better get used to it.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Still kind of freaked out. Worried about Takahiro.” I paused. “You?”

“I am well, thank you,” he said, alien as a Martian. “You will see Takahiro today?”

“I’d better,” I said, picked up my knapsack and algebra book, and headed for the front door.

• • •

“You’ve got soldiers at the end of your road,” said Jill. “What’s up? This whole area is making my hair stand on end. It feels like invisible things with legs crawling on you. Ugh. It’s much worse near you than over where we are.” She’d got the short straw in the family vehicle lottery that day: she was driving the Mammothmobile. It had probably started life as a muscle car fifteen years ago for you and your eighteen closest friends to intimidate the locals in. You could get several kegs of beer in the back seat and maybe a small buffalo or the basketball team.

I glanced guiltily at Hix, who was a slightly odd pool of shadow in my lap. “Um—Val says it’s some kind of hyped-up armydar. Because of the cobey.” I’d put the algebra book on the floor, leaning against the wall of the footwell. When Jill turned out of our driveway it tipped over so it was leaning against my leg. It might just have been centrifugal force. (Yes. I know about centrifugal force. Yaay me.)

“Val says, eh?” said Jill. “So, you didn’t punch him out for talking to you, did you?” I didn’t say anything and she went on: “Where were you last night? I tried to call you but your phone was turned off. We all went to P&P again. Casimir was there and he asked after you. He said he’d
seen
you yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual. “We ran into each other at the park. He gave me a ride home.”

“At the park?” said Jill, slightly distracted from the fascinating topic of Casimir. “There was a really big whizztizz at the park yesterday. Army all over the landscape. Steph lives in the street opposite the main gate, you know? She saw like forty units all rushing through the gate at once. She was afraid it was another cobey but there haven’t been any announcements or anything, and school’s not canceled—dreep it. I don’t know, I suppose it wouldn’t really be worth a cobey in the park to have school canceled.”

I tried to smile. “Yeah, we saw them arriving as we were leaving. I don’t know what they thought was happening.” Which was true enough. Although I knew it wasn’t what they were expecting. I wanted to tell Jill about yesterday but I didn’t know where to start. Or what I could say. I couldn’t tell her about Takahiro. Not even Jill.

Jill finished backing out of the driveway and turning around, and stopped so she could look at me. I tried to look at her steadily but it was hard. Sometimes it’s a big flastic pain to have a friend who sees more than most people. “Maggie—” she began, and stopped. She looked away from me, down at the steering wheel, as if only just noticing that she was driving the Mammothmobile. She sighed. “Okay, whatever,” she said, and put her foot back on the gas.

“There they are,” she said. “The soldiers.” I looked warily out the window. I didn’t know if they had my scan profile from last night on their ’tronic or anything—or what my algebra book might be giving off. Two of the soldiers were looking toward us but nobody tried to stop us. I didn’t mean to be holding my breath, but I let it out as Jill crossed the intersection. “No, I don’t like them either,” said Jill. “Although some of them are probably cute and nice and everything and joined the army because they needed a job.”

There was something about the atmosphere in the car I didn’t like, and I didn’t think it was the armydar. I glanced at Jill’s profile. Tentatively I said, “Casimir says that his mom is—um—a foreseer. That in Ukovia the magicians use foreseers so they’ll know where to be, ready and waiting, to shut down a cobey as fast as possible.”

Jill was silent for a moment. “I live in Newworld, and I want to be a historian. And if you’re asking me, I’d’ve said that it
was
a cobey in the park yesterday, and if something that
isn’t
a cobey could make me feel that crazy and off the planet then if I ever am near a real cobey opening I’ll probably start running around on four legs and howling at the moon or something.”

I shivered. I wondered if there was any particular reason why that metaphor had occurred to her. I wished there was a way to tell her about the park yesterday—and Takahiro—without
telling
her. Abracadabra or something. Ha.

“I think I’ve just decided I want to study the history of science,” she added grimly.

We weren’t any later than usual, and the bell hadn’t rung, so we stood around with our usual group. Steph was full of what she’d seen yesterday and everyone else was listening. Eddie was trying to catch Jill’s eye and I could see by the way she had her lips pressed together that it was taking some effort not to let him. Although it might have been the armydar—or the cobey. It wasn’t quite as bad here as it was outside at home but it was pretty bad. It was making me feel a little pressed-lips too. I put my arm through Jill’s and she gave me a sidelong smile.

Then the bell did ring, and I realized I hadn’t seen Takahiro. My stress level instantly soared. Jill was glad enough to drop to the back of our gang because Eddie was at the front—his homeroom was on the other side of the building. I looked around. My heart was thumping unpleasantly hard. There were three silverbugs in the trees beyond the edge of the parking lot.
Three.
Not a good sign. The arm that wasn’t through Jill’s was full of algebra book; someone else had probably reported them by now anyway.

It was Hix who told me. I felt that whisper of air against my cheek, the darkness at the edge of my vision that was Hix, and I looked in her direction, the way you turn toward someone putting their hand on your shoulder. I almost didn’t see him, the
gruuaa
were wrapped around him so tightly, but once you had seen him you had to notice how
off
he looked, like he was walking in a forest in bright daylight: lots and lots of leaf shadows with little twinklings of light, almost like miniature silverbugs. Suckfest. There were no shadows on the big paved courtyard outside the high school, or beyond the first row of cars in the lot. But it shouldn’t matter—I hoped. Almost nobody could see the
gruuaa
; I hoped the armydar didn’t mess with that.

“Oh, there’s Taks,” said Jill, sounding relieved. “I’ve been having one of my feelings that he might be in trouble. I’m
tired
of having—feelings. Gods. Does the armydar mess with your eyes? He looks all, I don’t know, patchy.”

I remembered that she’d seen the
gruuaa
on the shed, the day of Mom and Val’s wedding. “Oh, Jill,” I said, or rather wailed, “I have so much to tell you.”

“And none of it is good, is it?” said Jill. “I’ve been hoping that it’s just the armydar screwing up whatever it is that I do, but I’ve been having . . . Maggie, I don’t think Takahiro is very well.”

I was thinking the same thing, and was already moving toward him. I was beginning to feel that the
gruuaa
were holding him together somehow—like a mummy’s bandages.

“Taks, you should have stayed home,” I said. “You look awful.”

He almost smiled. “Thanks.”

“You know what I mean.”

He stopped trying to smile. “Yeah. But it’s worse at home. I think it’ll be better here—lots of other people. Distraction. I’m not . . . you know.” I’d been sniffing cautiously, and there was no wolf smell. “It’s just the armydar makes me feel like I’m being pulled apart. We haven’t even had a scan in this town in years.”

“And they weren’t this bad and they didn’t go on this long,” I said. “I know.”

“If it isn’t better here, I’ll go home,” said Takahiro, but he looked as grey as the cement-block front wall of the school entry as he said it. There were shadows draped around his chest and shoulders. Black was not a good color for him today.

“No,” I said. “If it isn’t better, I’ll take you to Val.”

Jill was looking at each of us in turn, frowning. “Tell you later,” I said, but I looked at Takahiro. He gave a tiny nod, and then went limping on toward the front door.

We were the last ones inside. It was suddenly a lot darker after the glare of the courtyard and we paused, and didn’t notice immediately the last of the kids ahead of us going through a big arch thing set up in front of the double doors into the school from the entry hall.

There were soldiers standing on either side of it. They waved us forward.

“Oh, gizmos and dead batteries,” murmured Takahiro.

“The
gruuaa,
” I murmured back. “They’ve got you.” I hoped. I could feel Hix tightening around my neck. It tickled, but it wasn’t funny.

Jill said under her breath, “The
what
?”

“Later,” I said. “We don’t want to look like we have anything to hide.” I was rearranging my algebra book like that was the only reason we’d stopped. I marched forward, thinking, What are they looking for? I reached up and found what I hoped was a trailing end of Hix and draped it/her over my algebra book. What would happen if the archway didn’t like me? Portcullis? Boiling oil? Or would they just arrest me? I thought I might prefer to take my chances with boiling oil.

“Morning, miss,” said the soldier on the left. “Just walk on through. This is only a formality, don’t worry.”

“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound as if I believed him.

There was a funny swipe against my skin as I walked through, like walking through a spiderweb. It should have been kind of like walking through trailing
gruuaa
but it wasn’t.
Gruuaa
aren’t
sticky
and don’t leave a nasty feeling behind them that you can’t wipe off. I disliked even more the sensation of Hix bushing out like an angry cat, and the algebra book cringing back against me. Also,
oof.
It was a big book and it was pressing my stomach into my backbone, which wasn’t leaving much space for the three mugs of coffee and a piece of toast that were there first.

The machine beeped. I stopped. My heart was beating way too hard and my mouth was suddenly so dry I couldn’t swallow.

The soldier on the left sighed. “That machine is a total waste of electricity and palladium.”

“Shut up,” said the soldier on the right. “If you’d come back through again, miss.”

“May I put my algebra book down?” I said, laying it on the hall monitor’s desk. “It weighs a ton.”

“Sure,” said the soldier on the left.

“No,” said the soldier on the right.

“Get a grip, Sherston,” said the soldier on the left. “It’s a textbook.”

“Keep your knapsack,” snapped the soldier on the right. “And come back through.”

Hix seemed to have unwound or unrolled or something, like she’d done yesterday in the park. I could feel her against my face and hands, but I was pretty sure she had taken a loop around my waist and was brushing against my legs too. Unless that was one or more of Takahiro’s
gruuaa.
No,
I thought at them.
If any of you are his, don’t. Go protect Taks.
I walked back through the archway, turned, and came through it a third time. The machine remained silent. My heart was still hammering away and I felt a little ill. One down and two to go. I put my hand on my algebra book.