Alight The Peril (6 page)

Ang sighed wistfully. “I wish I could sneak Toby in here.”

“You do, hm? For what purpose, exactly, Angeline?”

“I’d just like to have him here.” She was all innocence.

“Aw, that’s just so precious. Angeloby in love,” I teased.

“Oh, shut up! And stop with the celebrity couple name.” She giggled, and I could picture her blushing.

We hung up a few minutes later, and not long after, my phone buzzed with a text from Ang.

No matter what happens with Sophie, you are my best friend, and I promise that will never change!

I smiled. I’d need her. Only two days until I had to convince Sophie to join us.

* * *

Ang came over to stay at my house the next night, and it required major effort to act like everything was normal. I had to influence Sophie soon—the next day was Saturday—and I was glad I had Ang there for moral support.

We took Ang’s mom’s car to Aunt Dorothy’s before dinner. Maybe hearing about her experience would reassure me somehow. The three of us settled in the living room, evening sun slanting through the blue and white toile curtains.

“How well did you know Evelyn and Harold when your union formed?” I asked.

“Your grandmother knew both of them well,” my great-aunt began. “Being the Pyxis, her relationships with the members of the union influenced who ended up in it. I imagine so, anyway. Evelyn had been her closest friend for three or four years before the union formed.”

Angeline and I glanced at each other and grinned. Maybe the best friend thing was a common pattern in how unions formed.

“But,” she continued, “not long before the union formed, Doris and Evelyn had a bit of a falling out.”

Ang frowned. “What happened?”

“Doris and Harold were . . . an item,” Aunt Dorothy said. She pursed her lips and unfolded and refolded her hands. “I am not sure it’s entirely appropriate to speak about this to you girls. But . . . well, it was all so long ago.” She cleared her throat and her gaze dropped to a spot in the middle of the floor. She worked to restrain a smile. “Harold, well, he had a bit of a wandering eye as a young man. And he had his sights on Evelyn.”

I snorted a short laugh. “You mean Grandma Doris’s Shield was her cheating boyfriend and one of her Guardians was the girl he cheated with
and
her former best friend? Oh, my poor grandmother.”

“Yes, well. We all had some issues to overcome, I suppose.” My great-aunt chuckled, and I laughed with her. Obviously everything had worked out. My grandmother ended up marrying my grandfather, my dad was born, blah, blah, et cetera.

“How did you handle being linked with Evelyn?” Angeline asked.

“Oh, it was horrific at first. Being in
syndesmo
made me extremely dizzy. For the first few days, the vertigo was so bad, I was nauseated all the time.”

“What about just having someone’s voice in your head? Do you remember how it felt at first? And how quickly it
got better
?” I said, giving Aunt Dorothy a pointed look.

“I thought I’d have to commit myself to the loony bin,” she responded. I grimaced and glanced at Ang. Not exactly what I was trying for. “It was terribly disconcerting. I used to sit next to the river for hours. The water thundering down the rapids was loud enough to drown out everything in my head.”

“How long until it was okay?” Ang sounded so forlorn I wanted to hug her.

“Less than a month, I would say. Evelyn and I worked out a system. I would turn down her thoughts and she would turn down mine at certain times. It gave us a break, as well as some privacy.”

I perked up. Would Sophie go for that type of arrangement? It would be so much easier than trying to guard my thoughts from her, which so far I’d proved pretty terrible at doing with Mason.

“Do you have any advice for us? Anything that can make all of this easier?” I asked.

“I would not worry too much about getting used to being linked in
syndesmo
. It will happen in time.” My great-aunt smiled, her eyes crinkling in a rare expression of sympathy. “The bigger challenge is bonding tightly with everyone in the group. You must be able to trust each other. And to do that, you will have to work through some personal issues. I will not say it’s easy. But the very important things in life never are.”

Ang and I were silent on the way back to my house. I’d tried all day to think of ways to approach Sophie at school, but, considering the animosity between us, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to just walk up to her and start pushing
pyxis
influences into her mind. Especially if a bunch of other kids milled around and watched. If we had an audience, she’d surely try to make me look like an idiot. And with my nerves added to the mix, I didn’t trust that I’d be able to hit the right level of influence fast enough. Or maybe at all, if I gave her the chance to rattle me.

Ang and I sprawled on my bed, my phone on the coverlet between us. I took a deep breath. It was time. I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Hello?” There was mild suspicion but not outright hatred in Sophie’s voice, so she must not have known it was me. I imagined a pouty expression on her heart-shaped face framed by side-swept auburn bangs, and I took another deep breath.

“Sophie, this is Corinne.” I made my voice as authoritative as I could. “I have something really important to tell you, and I need to say it in person.”

“Um, okay.” Her tone implied she thought I was mental, but I ignored it.

“Are you at home? I could come over now,” I said.

Sophie sighed, and I imagined her flipping a wave of hair over her shoulder with an impatient flick of her wrist. “Yeah, fine. I’ll only be here for another hour, so come soon.”

“I’m leaving the house now,” I said.

“Well, at least the first step is out of the way.” Ang squeezed my arm and gave me an encouraging little smile.

All the way to Sophie’s house, I drummed my fingers against the armrest. When Ang pulled up to the tiny house where Sophie lived with her aunt, I sat in the car for a moment, remembering the last time I’d been here. Fifth grade, not long after Sophie had moved into this house. It wasn’t my idea. My mom thought I should try to hang out with Sophie, even though I’d tried to convince her that something had changed and I was pretty sure Sophie didn’t want me to come over. I barely got the car door open before Sophie flew out of the house. She stood in the small patch of front lawn, yelling at us. She actually
swore
at us, her face turning red and her chest heaving. Mom told me to close the door, and she started the car and pulled away. I expected her to be shocked or at least a little offended by Sophie’s language, but she just looked sad. That was the last time she tried to force me to do anything with Sophie.

“Corinne?” Ang touched my arm.

I nodded and began to gather a vortex of green influence in my mind.

“Okay, let’s go.” I opened the car door.

Ang followed me up the walkway to the front door and stood behind me while I rang the bell. When Sophie swung the door open and gave us a suspicious glare, I didn’t even wait for her to open the torn screen door. I mentally pushed a fat blob of influence at her.

“I need you to come with me to my Aunt Dorothy’s house tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay.” Sophie’s eyes softened, her voice bland.

I let out a breath. “Tomorrow at ten in the morning, go to Main and Wild Rose. Ang and I will come and pick you up. We’ll be there for four hours, so don’t make other plans.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you at Main and Wild Rose.”

I’d never admit it aloud, but bossing Sophie around sent a ping of pleasure zipping through me. The dull tone of her voice was downright creepy, but at least I knew the influence was working.

“Right. See you tomorrow. Bye.” I turned to leave, and I gathered the essence of the white
pyxis
liquid before pushing it to Sophie, careful to not completely cleanse the green influence. She needed to appear normal, but remain under the influence of my suggestion. I glanced over my shoulder when I got to the car. Sophie shook her head and blinked a couple of times, and watched us through the screen door.

“Wow,” Ang said once we were back in the car. “Awesome job.”

She drove us back to my house, and some of the tension eased from my shoulders, but my heart was still tapping away in my chest.

Back in my room, we both sagged onto my bed as if we’d run a marathon together.

“I’m just glad it worked,” I said.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Ang avoided my gaze and combed her fingers through the fringe of the blanket she’d spread over her lap.

“Kinda. Sophie is just such a wild card. What if I can’t convince her? What if she storms out?” The familiar knot in my gut seemed to expand against my diaphragm.

“Well, you got her to agree to meet us. I think that’s a good sign you’ll be able to do whatever you need to do tomorrow.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, me staring up at the ceiling and Ang still picking at the blanket fringe.

“I’m glad you and Mason will be there, at least,” I said. “Do you think you’re going to be okay?”

She scrunched her mouth to one side. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.”

“I’m proud of you for being so brave.” I let out a slow breath. “How ‘bout we do something mindless now?”

Angeline gave me a tiny smile and nodded. We rose and she followed me upstairs to make hot chocolate. I found a silly comedy Brad loved and plugged it into the DVD player, and we settled onto the sofa.

Ang kept staring at the floor, not really paying attention to the movie. I didn’t blame her.

* * *

Sometime later, a cool breeze slid across my face, and I heard small waves rolling against the beach. The cove.

Mason?
I probed for his presence. For the first time since we’d linked, I didn’t hear the familiar background noise of his thoughts. My heart lurched in my chest, and I drew a sharp breath.
Mason! Where are you?

“He can’t help you.” A voice slithered through the night like a snake across sandpaper, and I whirled around, searching for its source.

Not far from the dark fire pit loomed a shadowed figure. Panic tightened around my chest and my mind itched with the absence of Mason’s thoughts.

“Who are you?”

A laugh like a metal rake on cement sent a shudder through me. “Oh, come now. You know me.”

Two faint green dots glowed dull in the figure’s face.

“Harriet,” I whispered. My awareness dulled as her influence invaded my mind. I sank to the sand, my fingers digging into the cool grains. No responsibility; no fear. All that mattered was whatever Harriet asked of me.

And it was a relief.

|| 7 ||

TIME STRETCHED OUT, and radio static-type noise filled my ears. I slumped on the beach as my will continued to dissolve under Harriet’s influence. It was . . . pleasant.

Then, an unfamiliar presence pierced my mind, and gentle hands pulled me up to a seated position. When did I lie down? Disoriented, I dug my fingers into the sand.

“. . . can’t do it for you. Come on, girl, stay with me,” a muffled, unfamiliar voice was saying. A male voice. “What’s your name?”

I tried to focus on the question, but visceral longing for a directive from Harriet—any request, large or small—washed over me in a nauseating wave. Then the unfamiliar voice invaded my head, and my breath went ragged with panic.

Fight it,
said the same voice I’d just heard aloud.
Focus on the white.

An image of a bottle of white liquid, similar to the one in my
pyxis
, but taller and skinnier, appeared in my mind’s eye.

Imagine it tipping over and washing through you,
the voice instructed. There was something strange about the way he spoke.

But I just want her to—

No, don’t think about her. Only the bottle.

I don’t want the bottle. Leave me alone! She’ll tell me what to do.
I slumped and then lay down on my side.

A wall slammed through my mind, blocking the image of Harriet, though not the sensation of her influence over me. I winced and squeezed a handful of sand in my fist.

Focus! Your union needs you! Who is your Shield? What’s his name?

Mason
. As I spoke, I formed the mental image I associated with him: a Ponderosa pine.

Good. Well, he needs you to focus on this white bottle. You don’t want to let him down, do you?

Was that an Australian accent? Confusion and irritation prickled through me. Why couldn’t this jerk just mind his own business? And what was an Aussie guy doing here at the cove? I gripped the handful of sand tighter, trying to compact the grains into a ball.

The bottle.
He pushed the image of the glass bottle more insistently into my mind’s eye.
Mason needs you to tip it over.

“Leave Mason out of this,” I tried to say. It came out such a mumbled mess, I wasn’t sure if the guy understood me. My lips refused to function. I tried again, speaking slowly. “Go . . . a . . . way!”

The guy grasped my forearms and shook me a little. I squeezed my eyes shut. Where was Harriet? I needed her. Warm hands palmed my cheeks, forcing my face forward. I squeezed my eyelids harder.

Open your eyes NOW, Pyxis,
his voice thundered through my head.
Push that bottle over, or I will dump you in the lake and hold you under ‘til you suck water!

I turned my focus to his white bottle. With a tremendous effort, I gave it a nudge. It teetered, seemed to pause for a split second, and then fell over. The white liquid glugged out and puddled beneath the bottle, and something inside me began to loosen.

“Ah, it’s working,” the guy said.

I finally looked up, and piercing blue eyes met mine. How could I make out the color of his eyes in the darkness of the night? I stared at his face. His skin. It glowed a soft white, making him a luminous ghost.

He was lit up like a human firefly. He’d been inside my mind.