Chameleon (17 page)

He smiled sadly. “It was a great deal more than nothing. Deuxième understands about indebtedness.”

As I tried to think of a way to apologize for bringing a roof down on his head, the air rippled and he disappeared.

Will ran towards me, Mickie just behind him.

“Sam!” she cried, throwing her arms around me. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m … fine.” And mildly shocked by the turn of events, I thought to myself.

“What did he say when he spoke in French?” asked Mickie.

“We couldn’t hear him,” said Will.

I still didn’t want to admit in front of Mickie that I’d saved the life of someone who worked for Helga. “Uh,” I said, “He wanted to warn me that Helga is on my trail.”

“Warn you?” said Will.

“Why would he warn you?” asked Mickie. “I thought he worked for her.”

“He does,” I said. Inside my shoes, my toes curled and uncurled. “But I guess he doesn’t see eye to eye with her about everything.”

“He doesn’t? Or Ivanovich doesn’t? Or both of them don’t?” asked Will.

I frowned. “I think it’s just him. Deuxième. I think Ivanovich would hand me over in a heartbeat.”

“The whole thing makes no sense,” said Mickie. “From now on, we stick together. Sir Walter, too. No more chasing voices in his head.”

“That’s not reasonable,” began Will.

“Reasonable?” asked Mickie, her voice shrill in the dark night. “
Reasonable
? What is reasonable about a thug rippling right in front of me and putting me in a fireman’s hoist? It could have been the other one. The Russian–guy.”

From what I could gather, Mickie had missed the fact that she’d also been drugged. Maybe it was better that she didn’t know, all things considered.

I wrapped an arm around Mickie’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” I said. “He’s gone. He only wanted to help.”

“Any sign of Sir Walter?” demanded Mickie.

The French gentleman rippled solid beside us. “I am difficult to see when I wish to avoid being seen.” Smiling, he turned to me. “
Mademoiselle
Sam, you handled that with great confidence and good judgment.”

“I’ll say,” agreed Will.

I felt a small happy fluttering in my stomach.

“We could have used you back there,” said Mickie to Sir Walter.

“If you had, indeed, been in need of me, I would have materialized sooner,” he replied. “Ivanovich and Deuxième have, the both of them, a quite healthy fear of me. Had I appeared, I think Deuxième might have transported you involuntarily. And, as I pointed out a moment earlier,
Samanthe
had things well in hand without my interference.”

“She kept her cool, alright,” said Will. He mussed his sister’s hair, murmuring to her, “Unlike some I could mention.”

“Ouch!” said Mickie. “Hands off the hair. My head is killing me.”

I fingered the vial in my pocket. “Yeah, um, Deuxième said that might be a side effect.”

“Of what?” asked Mickie and Will at the same time.

“Uh, well, he kind of … drugged you,” I said to Mickie. “To keep me from running away without hearing him out.”

“Oh,” said Mickie, frowning. “I don’t remember that part.”

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s really fast with needles. You were out before I even caught up to you. He gave me something to take the pain away.” I held up the small vial of clear liquid.

Mickie grimaced. “I don’t think so.”

Sir Walter chuckled beside Will. “If it is of his own making, it will do exactly what he said it would do. And exceptionally well, I might add.”

“I’ll stick with a Coke and some Advil,” said Mickie.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Will. “Before Deuxième changes his mind.”

I looked one last time down the dark alley, shuddering.

Chapter Twenty–One

COLD AS ICE

Our group spent the Sunday before Christmas traveling to Annecy, the “Venice of France,” where we had a chance to breathe the chill air of mountains bordering Switzerland. Mickie kept a close eye on me, with all the water surrounding us, but I stayed solid, even when Will and I ran beside the lake, its dark waters haunting and pristine.

There were no organized French Club activities the second day, and since the snow had accumulated during the night, we stayed indoors. Sir Walter planned to begin training Will and myself in self–defense for chameleons. We had plenty of room in yet another extravagant two–bedroom suite, which Sir Walter confessed to having arranged, both this time and in Paris.

“I think,” said Sir Walter, “We should begin with a basic rescue technique. There are certain circumstances under which even chameleons find it difficult or impossible to ripple and thus might require assistance.”

“That happens for me a lot,” I said, frowning.

“Ah, yes,” said Sir Walter. He smoothed his goatee thoughtfully. “And yet, you had the
ability
to ripple from a young age, did you not?”

“It happened once, for sure, just after I lost Mom,” I agreed.

“But she didn’t get in years of practice, like Will,” said Mickie.

“That will have made the difference,” said Sir Walter. “It is unlikely,
Samanthe,
you will ever have the facility that your friend Will enjoys.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered.

Sir Walter chuckled. “Forgive me. Your own abilities may develop significantly. However, Will
ree–pills
like no one I have ever before seen.”

“Will had trouble rippling once,” said Mickie, her brows drawn tightly together.

“I did?” asked her brother.

“You were five,” she began, “Dad rang the doorbell and you were all excited to see him. I told you not to open the door, but you did anyway, and he clocked you before you could get away.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” said Will. “Mick was shouting at me to ripple away after Dad hit me, only I was like, I don’t know, too tired or something. I just couldn’t make myself disappear.”

My stomach clenched. It was wrong that a five–year–old wasn’t safe opening the door to see his dad.

Sir Walter spoke. “If a chameleon retains less than complete consciousness, rippling becomes nearly impossible.”

“Well, for sure my head spun in circles when Dad hit me,” said Will.

“Your face looked so white,” Mickie murmured, the memory still raw.

“Loss of blood, being nearly asleep, over–exertion: any of these can make rippling difficult,” said Sir Walter. “I carried smelling salts for many years in case I should need to revive myself. Perhaps we would all be wise to do so once again.”

“But back to Sam,” said Will. “She can get better if she keeps practicing?”

“Of course,” said Sir Walter. “In fact, I think we should allow Sam the first opportunity to attempt the rescue technique of which I spoke.” He turned and smiled at me. “
Mademoiselle,
having already been a victim of this technique, I believe you understand the principles.”

I stared at him blankly.

“When Deuxième stole away with you, yes?” said Sir Walter.

“Oh,” I said. “You want me to try taking someone with me when I ripple?”

He executed a tiny bow. “If you would be so good as to take hold of
Mademoiselle
Mackenzie and ripple away?”

“No, no, no,” said Mickie, holding her hands up as she backed away. “This body is off limits, thanks very much.”

Sir Walter raised one eyebrow and Will turned away, chortling.

“There may come a time when it would be well for
Samanthe
to ripple away with you,” said the French gentleman.

Will rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Mick, that was years ago.”

“Not going to happen,” she said, crossing her arms.

Will groaned. “It was only bad ‘cause you had the stomach flu.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think much of your cure,” Mick grumbled.

“One time I grabbed her out of the kitchen when she was about to puke all over the table,” said Will.

“He didn’t bother to mention that bodily functions would resume as soon as we came solid again,” said Mick, thwacking his arm with a pillow.

“I didn’t know,” Will admitted. He was trying hard not to grin.

“Mickie,” I said, attempting to not sound demanding, “I’d really like the chance to try this while there’s no lives hanging in the balance.”

She turned her head to one side, sighing heavily. I thought I could bring her around.

I spoke again. “I don’t know if I’d be here today if your brother hadn’t rescued me using this technique.”

One of Will’s hands flew to his forehead. His sister looked over at him, first curious, then suspicious.

“Will?” Mickie’s voice came out in a low growl. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Will scuffed at the carpet. “No.”

Suddenly I remembered that Mickie didn’t know about the trip Will and I had taken to Helga’s lab. That she wasn’t supposed to know. Ever. “Oh, crap,” I mumbled.

“Will?” Mick’s voice raised a few decibels.

She was working up a full head of steam. This wasn’t going to be pretty. I hoped maybe I could deflect some of her anger from her brother.

“It was my fault. I talked Will into going back to Dr. Gottlieb’s lab,” I said. “I knew she had all these other black books like the one we got from Pfeffer, and I wanted to get them.”

“You—
you what
?” Mickie stood, as angry as I’d ever seen her. “Will? You went
back
to UC Merced?” She ground fists against her hips, elbows flaring.

Will crossed his arms. “Yeah, so deal with it already.”

“Deal with it?
Deal with it?”
Her voice rose in an awful crescendo. “
What were you thinking about
? I can’t believe this!” She turned to me, her face blotched red with anger. “And you—how could you do this to us?”

I felt my face warming.

“These people are
killers
, Sam,” said Mickie.

“She
knows
that, Mick.” Will’s low voice cut across her frantic one.

“But she obviously doesn’t
get
it, does she?” Mickie shot back at her brother. “They
killed
Professor Pfeffer!”

My throat shrunk tight.

“That’s
enough
, Mick. She gets it.”

Mickie ignored the angry edge in her brother’s voice. “Do you think they’d hesitate to do the same to you, or to me and my brother?”

“
I said enough, Mick!
” Will spoke with authority as he locked eyes with his sister.

Finally I found my voice. “You’re not the
onl
y person in the room who lost someone to those murderers,” I said, my voice shaking.

Mickie made an angry, exasperated noise and rose. She headed for the hotel suite door, kicked over a small side table in her way, and slammed the door behind her so hard that the pictures on the wall rattled.

I looked at Will. His face was turned from me in profile. Without even blinking, he stared at the carpet. He avoided looking at me. I saw the tension in his hands, balled into fists, and in the throbbing vein at his temple. “I’ll work on damage control.” He didn’t sound angry; he sounded cold as ice and a million miles away from me.

Chapter Twenty–Two

SHAM–SUNDAR

Without once looking at me, Will exhaled noisily and exited the room following his sister.

Tears rushed to fill my eyes. For several minutes Sir Walter and I sat in the room without speaking. When he stood, I assumed he planned to leave me as well, but he surprised me by returning with a box of tissues. He handed them to me without a word, and I began drying my face.

At last Sir Walter spoke. “I do not pretend to understand your motivation, nor will I insist that you explain yourself to me now. What is done is done.”

I sobbed, wondering how badly I’d damaged my friendship with Will. His earlier warnings rattled around inside my head:
My sister can never know about this, okay?

“However,” continued Sir Walter, “I am less inclined to see this as the dangerous step that
Mademoiselle
Baker believes it to be. You are all alive, and what is more, unlikely ever to return so close to Helga’s lair.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean, unlikely to return so close?”

“Of course you cannot return to your home,” he said.

“I have to go home.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me, puzzled.

“I’m not leaving my family,” I said. “It would kill Dad to lose me.” As I spoke the words aloud, I realized the awful choice before me. I might not be able to leave Las Abs, but Will would almost certainly not return. The thought of a future without him left a hollow feeling where my stomach should be.

“Well, we have several days remaining to us during which we can discuss what would be best,” said Sir Walter.

“There’s something else,” I said. I felt a cold determination building inside of me. I was done with keeping secrets. “I have good reason to believe that Deuxième survived the collapsed chamber because of me.”

“Indeed?” Sir Walter looked surprised.

I explained how I’d called for assistance, adding that Deuxième held himself in my debt.

“This is most interesting. Most interesting, indeed.” He tugged at his tiny beard a few times and sighed. “And now, if you will excuse me, my dear, I should like to
ree–pill
. I find I do my best thinking when my flesh makes no demands upon me.”

“Of course,” I said.

He stepped over and gently placed a hand upon my shoulder. “All will be well,” he said. “We know Helga’s wishes more clearly because Deuxième believed himself to be in your debt. All will be well.” He smiled, patted my shoulder, and vanished.

I shut myself in my room and lay upon the narrow bed. After kicking my shoes off, I curled into a tight ball. Outside the sky remained a flat grey that couldn’t clear and wouldn’t snow. I felt cold and dull within. When I thought of the chill in Will’s voice as he left, I ached as though we’d already parted forever.

Soon, very soon, I would have to give up the one person in my life I couldn’t live without. That was the future I saw now.