Agents of the Glass (11 page)

Reza gave him a quick hug; Martin stared aggressively, then nodded once and turned away without a word. Mrs. Cardigan reached toward him, her bony fingers landing so lightly on his arm that he barely felt them. The skin on the backs of her hands was waxed-paper thin and translucent; veins and tendons stood out when she gently squeezed his forearm.

“You're going to do just fine, Andover,” she said. “Trust your instincts—they have served you well so far. I hope to see you again very soon.”

“I…uh, hope so, too,” said Andy.

Silas opened the door and called for Penny. “Let's get you two home, shall we?”

“After you've seen Andy and Penny off, come back down for a moment, won't you?” Mrs. Cardigan said to Silas.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, following Billy up the stairs.

“Man, why does that guy hate me so much?” Andy asked at the top step.

“Martin? Don't worry about him; he's like that with everyone. He spent five years in MI5, looking for spies.”

“What's MI5?”

“Sort of the British version of the FBI. Only tougher. He's absolutely obsessed with loyalty. The first person he arrested was his wife. The second was his own father.”

“Seriously?”

“That's what I heard.”

“I still can't believe it's Winter. I was so sure it was Jensen. Are you positive
she
isn't a Syngian, too? She's awfully pushy, and she always seems to get her way.”

“Quite sure. I've had her checked out. No
lumen.
You don't have to worry about Jensen Huntley.”

When Silas returned, the others were back in their seats around the circular table.

“Please, join us,” said Mr. Nakahara. “There's something you should know…about Andy.”

“Oh?” Silas felt his heart lurch. “Did I miss something?” He wondered how serious his mistake could possibly have been. After all, whatever it was, they knew it an hour ago—before they opened up to Andy, revealing themselves and a number of secrets critical to the Agency.

“Not at all. Your background work on Mr. Llewellyn was top-notch, as usual,” said Reza. She slid an unmarked file across the table to him. “There's no way you could have known this. You're aware, of course, that we go to great lengths to keep secret the names of at least two of our group and that we are never all in the same place at the same time, for the obvious reason that we want to ensure the survival of the Agents of the Glass in the case of a catastrophe. However, under the circumstances, we feel that this information must be revealed to you. Go ahead, open it.”

Silas lifted the cover of the folder and began to read the single sheet of paper inside. His heart was racing, but he somehow managed not to reveal his utter astonishment at the bombshell he held in his hands. Pointing at the file, he asked, “Does she know? About Andy?”

Mrs. Cardigan shook her head. “I had to wait until we could arrange a secure phone line. I'll be telling her tonight.”

“Are you okay with this?” Martin asked. “Your mission hasn't changed. The Llewellyn kid is your responsibility, and you need to get him moving. The Loom is reporting increased activity in the NTRP building lately. They're cooking up something big.”

Silas pushed the file across the table to Mrs. Cardigan. “This makes no difference to me. My only concern is getting the job done. You can count on me.”

“We never doubted it,” said Reza.

“Interesting choice of words,” said Martin. “That's exactly what my wife told me ten minutes before she betrayed her country. I reminded her of what she'd said when I arrested her.”

So that part of the story really is true,
thought Silas.

On Andy's way home from the meeting, his mind was a whirlpool of uncertainty. It's the same with all new recruits—a dangerous time. One day soon, perhaps, you will understand what he was going through. The need to talk to someone—anyone—about what you're going through will be overwhelming. But you will have to resist, just as Andy did. Believe me, if I didn't think you could do it, you wouldn't be reading this.

“You're sure you want to do this?” Billy asked. “I don't know—they told me to take you straight home.”

“She needs to go for a walk,” said Andy, pointing at Penny. “And I have to get to know her at least a
little
before I take her home.”

“I guess that's okay. Just don't get lost in the park, all right? Wait a second, that reminds me. Silas wanted me to fill you in about the taxis.”

“What about them?”

“Give me your phone.” Andy handed it over and watched as Billy added a contact to his list. “It's really simple,” Billy said after he returned the phone to Andy. “One of the perks of the job. Whenever you need a ride or you're scared or late getting someplace you need to go, just pull up this number and text the word
glass
to it. That's it. A cab will find you, usually in less than a minute. The number on the roof will always have the letter
C
in it. That's how you'll know for sure.”

“What if I don't have any money?”

“That's the whole point. You don't need money. Just the magic word.”

“
Glass,
and a cab will just show up? And I don't have to pay?”

“You got it.”

“That's crazy.”

“Welcome to the team. Have fun, kid, and take good care of Penny. She's a good dog.”

Penny, wagging her tail enthusiastically, hopped out of the van and pulled Andy down the sidewalk toward Central Park.

“Thanks for the ride!” Andy called, laughing as Penny pulled him faster and faster. When they got to the park, she headed north, past the zoo and the small boat pond, then on to Cedar Hill, where Andy dropped onto the lawn and stared up at the wispy white clouds rushing by. The disk of sea glass had bounced out of his shirt, and the sight of it caught him by surprise. In the excitement of meeting Penny, he had momentarily forgotten about it.

He tucked it back into his shirt, remembering what he had been told:
Keep it secret.
Quickly checking that no one was nearby, he took it out again and held it up to his eye. It was a picture-perfect fall day, and streams of tourists and locals poured past him on the narrow walkways. A hundred or more people passed, then another hundred, about half of them walking dogs or pushing strollers. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see anything through the glass disk, let alone the mysterious-sounding
lumen lucidus
that the Agents spoke about in hushed tones. The more Andy looked, the more it looked like ordinary sea glass to him, and he wondered how much of the story about the glass was even true. After all, if it was (which he seriously doubted), why would they give him a piece of it?

But then, as he was about to slip it back under his shirt, something completely unexpected happened: Penny suddenly sat straight up and growled, a low, deep growl that came from the back of her throat. She was staring intently at a spot in the distance, where a man and woman in matching spandex outfits had stopped at a drinking fountain.

“What is it, girl?” Andy asked. He was reaching over to stroke the top of her head when he realized that the sea glass was still in his hand. By the time he got it up to his eye, the couple was on the move, but the view was different. He had seen something through the glass. It was, as he described it in his journal later, a sudden flash of light, as if a curtain of heavy fog lifted for an instant and then, just as quickly, dropped back down. Andy looked with newfound respect at the sea glass and then at Penny. For some unknown reason, his grandfather's favorite expression found its way into his brain.

“Hell's bells.”

The couple jogged away, disappearing into the crowd, so Penny tugged on her leash, following them back toward the small boat pond.

“Easy, Penny. I don't know if I want…Hey!” But she pulled even harder, and Andy found himself running at full speed behind her. The joggers, he saw, were standing on the east side of the pond talking to another couple, so Andy guided Penny right past them, continuing around the pond to the west side and stopping at a bench near the statue of Hans Christian Andersen. From that vantage point, he had an unobstructed view of the couple, and he once again took out the circle of glass and held it up to his eye.

“Amazing,” he said as he got his first extended look at an actual
lumen lucidus—
two, actually, although he noted right away that the man's
lumen
was much brighter and more sharply defined than the woman's. He was so caught up in looking and comparing that for a critical few seconds, he didn't even notice that the man was staring back at him.

“Uh-oh,” he said, sliding the glass under his shirt. “Come on, Penny. We need to go. Now.” Andy led her over the short wall behind them and looked for an escape route, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw that, across the pond, the man had started to come after him, his eyes bugged out in fury.

Andy needed a plan, and in a hurry. As he urged Penny on faster and faster, they sprinted through the Trefoil Arch and up the stairs. He was hoping to make it to the plaza around Bethesda Fountain, where he was sure that there would be a crowd to disappear into. But when he came to a sharp bend in the path and knew he would be (at least momentarily) out of sight of his pursuer, he took a hard left turn, off the path and into the trees, where he ducked behind the biggest one he could find.

Breathing hard, he waited a few moments, praying silently that his plan would work, and then peeked out just in time to see the woman with the less visible
lumen
jogging along the path, looking for the man, who had already passed by. Penny growled again when she saw her, and Andy quickly shushed her. “Good girl. Nice and quiet. That was close. We're going to stay right here for a while.” He wanted to be absolutely certain that the couple had given up the search before he showed himself again. Under his shirt, he felt the cool glass touching his sweating chest, and in spite of his predicament, he rubbed Penny's head and smiled. “I guess I need to be more careful with this thing. And we're not going to tell Silas about this, if that's okay with you.”

Penny licked his face in agreement.

By the time he arrived home, however, he had convinced himself that the incident in the park was simply his overactive imagination playing tricks on him. There was no
lumen lucidus.
It was a trick of the light. The medallion around his neck was ordinary sea glass, and Penny was an ordinary dog, probably growling at another ordinary dog in the park—nothing unusual about that. He was angry with himself for believing any of it, and he began to think of a way to tell Silas that he and his friends were wrong about him: He was just an ordinary kid. And that whole fairy tale about Winter being dangerous? Ridiculous.

Howard Llewellyn was napping on the couch when Andy and Penny tried to sneak past without waking him. It might have worked…if Penny hadn't stopped to lick Howard's face.

“Hey! What the—” He sat up with a start, wiping his face with his sleeve when he realized what had happened. He pointed at Penny. “What is
that
?”

“It's a dog, Dad.”

Howard paused, closing his eyes. “One. Two. Thr— I know
what
it is! What I want to know is
why
it is in my house.”

“You're serious? You don't remember? Dad, we
talked
about this.”

Howard squinted at his watch. “How long was I asleep? When did this alleged conversation take place? Was your mother involved?”

“Of course. Phone call? Tanzania? Ringing any bells?”

Snippets of an early-morning Skype call were coming back to Howard. “Right. Remind me—why are we getting a dog?”

Andy repeated the speech that had worked so well on his mom: “Do you know how many dogs get put to sleep in shelters every year? Millions. It's not fair. On top of that, studies have shown that kids with dogs do better in school.
And
are more responsible around the house.”

“Uh-huh,” Howard grunted, too tired to argue. “So, is that where you've been all morning? Getting him?”

“
Her.
Penny. That was only part of it. I'm volunteering down at the Twenty-First Street Mission.”

“You are? Why?”

Andy buried his face in his hands. “Dad! We talked about this! School. Service requirements. Volunteering. Saturday mornings. Any of that sound familiar?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Good. Good for you.”