The Power Within (14 page)

“What about moving to New Brighton?” he asked. “I saw your laptop—”

“You saw my laptop?” Mom interrupted.

“I didn't mean to snoop,” Darren said quickly. “It was right there—the website for the divorce attorney and the website with apartment listings.”

To Darren's surprise, though, Mom didn't seem mad at all.

“No wonder you've been so upset,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Darren, we are
not
going anywhere.”

Darren blinked in confusion. “Then how come—”

“The apartment's for me, Sherlock,” Ray spoke up. “I'm going to move into my own place off campus when the semester is over. No more noisy dormitory! And no more all-night study sessions in the library's quiet room.”

Darren was so relieved to hear the news that he couldn't help it: he burst out laughing. So did Ray, and then Dad, and even Mom joined in. And in that moment, Darren suddenly realized the truth in what his parents had said. They would still have happy times together, even though things were forever changed.

A loud knock made everyone look over at the doorway, where Ms. Therian was standing with Mack, Fiona, and Gabriella. Darren grinned when he saw
Mack holding a bunch of get-well balloons.

“I hope we're not intruding,” Ms. Therian said.

“No, not at all. We'll head down to the cafeteria to get some supper,” Mom said. “But don't exert yourself too much, Darren. Remember, you need your rest.”

“Fries and a chocolate shake?” Ray asked, pointing at Darren.

Darren grinned at his brother. “You know it. Thanks, Ray.”

After Darren's family left, Ms. Therian closed the door behind them.

“They don't know a thing,” Darren said right away. “They're not even aware I was gone.”

“Yes,” Ms. Therian said, nodding. “Yara used a . . . Well, let's just say she had a little . . . chat with them and all parties involved.”

“A chat involving a memory-obliteration spell, I bet,” Mack joked under his breath.

“Thank you,” Darren said, relieved. Then he looked at Gabriella. “Did you tell everybody?”

“About your parents?” Gabriella asked. She shook her head. “No. Not my news to tell.”

“What's going on?” Fiona asked.

Darren took a deep breath. “My parents,” he began. “They're—they're getting divorced.”

So that's what it feels like to say it out loud,
Darren thought. Strangely, it wasn't as awful as he expected it would be—maybe because Fiona and Mack and Gabriella were by his side in an instant, all talking at once. He didn't have to hear their exact words to know that they were full of support.

“Guys, guys, hold on,” he said. “I owe you an apology. I should've said something. But I—I didn't know how. And I was so upset that my powers went haywire—really, really haywire—and I
still
didn't say anything.”

Darren paused to take a deep breath. “I didn't realize it, but I put us all in danger. And I'm sorry—more sorry than I can say. It will never happen again. I promise.”

“What about . . . the move?” Gabriella asked quietly. The others stared at Darren, concerned.

“Actually, it was just a misunderstanding. We're not moving to New Brighton!”

Gabriella cheered so loudly that Darren had to shush her before a nurse could come in.

“Can you fill me in on what happened?” he asked. “I don't remember much.”

“Your parents were right about needing your rest,” Ms. Therian began. “You exhausted your powers in your resistance, Darren. Without your fight . . . Well, let's just say we wouldn't have been able to accomplish as much as we did when we went up against Jasper.”

Darren sighed with relief. “So you got the horn,” he said happily.

Ms. Therian's smile disappeared. “I'm afraid not,” she said bluntly. “Though we won the battle, Jasper managed to escape with the Horn of Power.”

“No,” Darren began. But before he could continue, Ms. Therian held up a hand to stop him.

“All is not lost,” she said. “We were able to rescue Jai and the other kidnapped younglings. They're home with their families now, safe and sound. We also took quite a few of Auden's people as prisoners. Still, we have no doubt that the Horn of Power is back in Auden Ironbound's hands. His retribution will be swift, so heal fast. It is only a matter of time before he uses the horn again.”

Gabriella shrugged. “Let him try. It didn't affect us before, and it won't affect us now.”

“Yes,” Ms. Therian said drily. “I expect he's figured that out as well. That's why Akira believes he will come for you—all of you—first. He won't be taking any chances this time.”

Darren looked her straight in the eyes and said, “And neither will we.”

Fiona's phone buzzed on her bedside table. She knew it was a bit too early to be her alarm—the light spilling through her windows was still a little reddish orange, as though the sun had just barely come up.

Fiona smiled. It was good to hear that Darren was feeling better, both inside and out. She exited out of her texts to check the time. It may have been a weekend, but that didn't stop Fiona from getting up early.

She loved to tackle her homework first thing on Saturdays; it felt good to get it out of the way and have the rest of the weekend stretch out ahead of her, wide
open for anything she wanted to do. Of course, these days there was just one thing she wanted: to spend time at Broad Rock, scanning the ocean for signs of
selkie
s. The battle at Elmbridge had only reinforced Fiona's conviction that she
had
to find a
selkie
, any
selkie
, to help her. Without a
selkie
to teach her their secret songs, Fiona would never truly be able to use her powers.

And that would be unthinkable.

Enough daydreaming,
Fiona thought as she rolled over in bed. She reached down to the floor for her backpack.

But it wasn't there.

Fiona sat up.

That's weird,
she thought, a small frown flickering across her face. She always put her backpack right next to her bed at night; sometimes, she would even lie in bed with her arm dangling over the side, just so she could feel her
selkie
cloak beneath her fingers as she drifted off to sleep. Fiona was certain that she'd put her backpack in the usual place last night.

Well . . . almost certain.

Maybe I left it downstairs,
she thought as she scrambled out of bed. It would be weird, but it was possible.
And possible was all Fiona needed to push her forward. She searched the living room, the kitchen, the entryway, and even the coat closet.

But her backpack was nowhere to be found.

No,
Fiona thought, panic rising in her throat. If she'd somehow lost it, with her
selkie
cloak inside, if her
selkie
cloak had again been stolen from her . . .

The thought of being trapped in her human form for the rest of her life was enough to fill her eyes with tears. To never again transform into a seal; to never again dive through the ocean, hearing that strange, sweet song that carried through the water as though sung for her and her alone . . .

Still in her pajamas, still barefoot, Fiona ran outside to her dad's car. It was a long shot; it was a desperate hope—after all, she'd taken the bus home from school yesterday—but the mere chance that her backpack was in her dad's car meant it was worth checking. She rubbed the condensation off the car windows and eagerly pressed her face against the cold, damp glass.

It wasn't there, though. In her heart, she already knew that it wouldn't be.

Why did I even think it would be in Dad's car?
she asked herself angrily.

Then Fiona stopped.

Unless her
selkie
cloak hadn't been stolen by a stranger, but taken . . . by someone she loved. . . .

She hurried back into the house.

As quickly and quietly as she could—after all, Dad still might be asleep—Fiona rushed to his bedroom. The door was open a crack; enough for her to push it open a few inches more and peek inside.

That's when Fiona realized her first mistake. Dad wasn't asleep at all. And from the look of things, he hadn't slept all night.

Dad's usually immaculate bedroom looked as though a tornado had swept through it. There were old photos everywhere—on the bureau and the bed and the dresser and even the floor. Hundreds of them. Fiona didn't need to look closely to know that all the photos were of her mother.

And there, in Dad's lap, was Fiona's
selkie
cloak. He held it warily, with trepidation, like he didn't know what to do with it. Or couldn't quite trust it.

The morning sunlight touched the lovely cloak and made it gleam. Fiona longed for it. She needed it like she needed air. All her instincts told her to grab it and run, but she clenched her fists and forced herself to stay calm. That's when she thought of a new plan:
lie.

The word ricocheted through Fiona's mind.
What choice do I have?
she wondered sickly. Then she swallowed hard and said, “Dad, I can explain what that is—”

Her voice broke off unexpectedly when her father looked up at last—a long, terrible moment when they did nothing more than stare at each other. The expression in his eyes made Fiona shrink inside herself; a heartbreaking combination of anguish, betrayal, and most of all—fear.

“I know exactly what this is,” he replied.

What challenge will the Changers face next?

Here is a sneak peek at

The Selkie Song!

The
selkie
cloak shimmered in the early morning sun as it spilled across her father's lap.

Give it to me,
Fiona Murphy thought, her eyes fixed on the cloak.
What if . . .

Dad tries to take it away?

Or hide it?

Or even—destroy it?

How could Fiona live without her
selkie
cloak, the most important, most precious item she had ever possessed? It didn't look like much, velvety-soft gray material with the faintest hint of a sheen, but to Fiona, that cloak was
everything.
It was the only way she could transform into her other form—a
selkie
, or seal. As a
selkie
, Fiona had been born with her cloak, but for most of her life, she'd been without it, ever since someone had taken it from her as a baby. But once she had discovered her
true nature and found her cloak, buried in a battered old chest in the sand, Fiona had sworn she would never be apart from it again.

Ever.

“Dad, I can explain what that is—” Fiona began.

Her voice broke off unexpectedly when her father looked up at last, a long, terrible moment when they did nothing more than stare at each other. The expression in his eyes made Fiona shrink inside herself: a heartbreaking combination of anguish, betrayal, and most of all—fear.

“I know exactly what this is,” he replied.

As the words slipped from his lips, Fiona saw her father clutch her precious
selkie
cloak even tighter. He might as well have reached into her chest and taken hold of her heart; it seemed to skip a beat.

“Please,” Fiona said, her hands reaching for the cloak.

But her dad didn't give it up. He couldn't even look at her. “I have to ask,” he began. “That time you were in the water—during the first week of school—”

Fiona's heart sank.
Here it comes,
she thought.

“Did you really fall in?”

A long silence followed.
Please,
Fiona thought.
Don't make me say it.