Agents of the Glass (13 page)

Part of the Sunday afternoon ritual at the Llewellyn apartment included a video call from Andy's mom, Abbey, who was still in the Mtwara region of Tanzania.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Move closer to the screen so I can see your forehead. That's looking good. Almost healed. You're going to have a scar, but it won't be bad. Very Harry Potter.”

“Great. Just what I always wanted.”

“You could do worse. Harry's a hero in the end. So, how's school? Still like it? Making friends? Oh my gosh! I almost forgot—the dog! Where is she? It's a she, right?”

“Penny! Come here, girl. Yeah, she's a girl. She's amazing. Say hi, Penny.”

“She's beautiful! Oh, I can't wait to meet her in person. I'm still a little confused about where she came from. I thought you were doing your community service at a shelter for people. Why did they have a dog?”

“I don't know the whole story….She was left at the Mission one night. If they didn't find a home for her, they were going to have to take her to a dog shelter.” It was a white lie, but it seemed as if it
could
be true, which was more than he could say about the truth—that Penny was a super-secret spy dog with special powers!

“Hmm. Well, take good care of her. How's your father dealing with it?”

“He acts like he doesn't like her, but just now she was curled up on the couch next to him and he was petting her. I did get a little bit of the Howard Twopenny routine when I first brought her home yesterday.”

Abbey laughed. “I'd say you have your dad pretty much figured out. What else is new? C'mon, I feel so bad that I'm missing all this. You starting a new school—and not just any school, but Wellbourne Academy! I'm so proud of you, and I want to see you in khakis and that blazer. And your dad tells me that you're in the Broadcast Club. Is that something you're interested in?”

“Uh, yeah, sort of. I didn't really
choose
it. They kind of chose for me. I think they thought I'd be good at it.”

“I'm sure they're right. How are things going with your student helper? What was her name? Winnie?”

“Winter.”

“Right. Winter. That's a very
cool
name.”

“Ha. Very funny, Mom.”

“You still like her?”

“Uh, I never said—”

“I don't mean
like
like. You said she was helping you with all the new-school stuff, that's all. Just wondering if you're still…
happy
with her. Is that better?”

“She's…fine. I guess.” What else could he say? That Winter Neale, age thirteen, was one of the most dangerous people on earth, according to the secret organization that he was now a member of? It sounded crazy
inside
his head; he could only imagine how completely insane it would sound if he said the words aloud.

“Okay, I'll take your word for it. I just want to make sure you're fitting in. I know you were worried about that because of how smart and how rich some of the kids are. And it sounds like this Winter is both of those things.”

“Oh, yeah—she's
really
rich. I hear she lives in some penthouse on Fifth Avenue. But she's not, like, a genius or anything.” He smiled, adding, “I think I'm smarter.”

At school on Monday, Andy searched for Winter before first period, spotting her in a deserted corner of the cafeteria, behind a large column and a stack of chairs. A boy from Andy's homeroom, Craig Lessing, was backed up against the wall, cowering as Winter, a full head taller than him, snapped and snarled at him like a junkyard dog. Andy hurried out of sight and found a table where he could just see her out of the corner of his eye. Pretending to be very interested in
1984,
he watched and listened, trying to figure out what the connection between them could possibly be. Although she was obviously angry, she kept her voice down to a low hiss, so Andy was able to pick up only a few snippets of the one-sided conversation:

“…promised that I would have it by today…tired of…lame excuses…do you have any idea…cost me?…twenty-four hours to…or else…”

As she went on, Andy glanced around the room, making certain that no one else was close by, and he fished out the circle of sea glass from beneath his shirt. Keeping it mostly covered with his hand, he raised it to his eye, but as he did, Winter moved a foot to her right, where she was completely blocked by another stack of chairs.

A moment later, Andy heard Winter give Craig one final order: “Go! Now!” Craig slunk out of the corner, head down, and then ran as fast as he could through the cafeteria—as if he wanted to get away from Winter before she changed her mind. Andy quickly tucked the glass back into his shirt and turned away from the corner, burying his nose in his book. Winter, meanwhile, walked off in the other direction without ever noticing that Andy was there.

At his locker in the hallway outside his homeroom, Andy was organizing his books and notebooks for his morning classes while still trying to piece together what he'd seen. He closed his locker, then spun around and ran directly into Winter, who was standing less than a foot behind him. Caught completely off guard, he gasped, slamming himself backward into his own locker.

Winter laughed out loud, then covered her mouth. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just having some fun.”

“I wasn't scared. You just…surprised me. How long were you there?”

“Only a second or two. I looked for you downstairs,” she lied. “I thought we were going to meet. Don't tell me—you heard all the bad stuff about me and now you want a new SA.”

Andy forced a smile. “Yeah. I mean, no.”

“You seem a little…preoccupied. Are you sure everything's okay? I'm sorry, it's just that it's my job, you see. If you quit Wellbourne and go back to your old school, they'll kick me out, too.”

“Really?”

Winter's head tilted back and her shoulders shook as she laughed.
A friendly,
real
laugh,
thought Andy. “No, silly. But I still don't want you to quit. You have to promise to tell me if anyone gives you a hard time. Promise?”

“Promise.”

Behind Winter, the kids from Andy's homeroom began to file into the room. Craig Lessing hurried around the corner, his penny loafers skidding to a halt when he spotted Winter. He glanced over at Andy, who nodded a hello.

“Oh,
hi,
Craig,” said Winter in a syrupy voice. “How
are
you?”

Craig looked down at his shoes. “Fine.”

It was an uncomfortable moment, and one that made Andy even more curious about what had happened in the cafeteria. “Hey, wait up, Craig. I'd better get going, too,” he told Winter. “I'll see you after school.”

“Okay. Have a great day. You too, Craig.”

As she walked away, Andy remembered the glass hanging around his neck.
Something is not quite right about Winter,
he thought, but he still wasn't convinced that she was the devil that Silas and the others had made her out to be. There was only one answer: He had to see this
lumen
for himself.

His mind still fogged from his last-period math class, Andy was standing in front of his locker, trying to remember his combination, when he sensed that, for the second time that day, someone was right behind him.

“Well?” It was Jensen, her arms folded, waiting for his answer. As usual, her plaid scarf was loosely draped over her shoulders.

“Well…what?”

“My website. Did you check it out?”

“Oh, that. Yeah. Pretty interesting. I didn't realize that you were a conspiracy nut—”

Jensen shoved him hard against his locker. “I am
not
a conspiracy nut. I'm a
journalist.
A real one. Not like those bloggers who just rip stuff off from other sites. I'm digging, getting my hands dirty. Got it?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Can you let me go now? Geez, you're so
sensitive.
Come on, you have to admit that you do seem a little obsessed with NTRP.”