Relic (8 page)

“Just…my little sister,” Colin said.

Lisa groaned, and Rylee and her friends snickered. I imagined everyone around us was looking at me. I wanted to spin around and kick Colin right in the shins, but instead I just clenched my fists and tried to make myself smaller and more sister-like. Colin was a great friend, and he always had my back, but sometimes he just said the stupidest things.

“You two look familiar.” This time it was the guard. Colin sounded like he was about to say something, but the guard added, “Yeah, you were here yesterday. You're friends with that crippled kid who beat up that monk.”

“He didn't actually beat up the—” Lisa abruptly stopped as the guard took another step forward. The whole area fell silent. I tried to press myself into the bricks. A large hand gripped the brim of my cap and turned my head slowly around and then finally lifted the hat off my head.

“Your sister sure is pretty,” the girl with the blue hair mocked, while her friends snickered. Rylee gave me an apologetic look.

The guard seemed pleased. “Overton said you'd be coming by, but I thought you'd change your mind when you saw them.” He nodded to the protestors.

“Starting to wish I had,” I muttered. I became aware of the attention directed my way from the other people in the line and considered sprinting away and hiding under a rock somewhere.

“Is that the kid from the paper?” a woman's voice asked.

“It looks like him, but he had crutches in the paper,” another voice said.

“You think he's here to fight that monk again?” a young voice asked.

“You think he'll give me his autograph?”

My cheeks burned. The security guard placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me from the line. “Okay, kid,” he said. “Let's go.”

“What about my friends?” I asked, pointing back.

Lisa and Colin stepped out of the line, intending to follow us, but the guard raised his free hand. “Uh-uh. You two can stay here. Or wait in line and go visit the museum, or do anything you want. Overton said he wanted to speak to Mr. Curse, so you'll see him when the meeting is over.”

“Now just wait a—” Colin started to say, but the guard cut him short.

“Don't worry, kid,” the officer said with an evil smirk. “Your little sister will be out before you know it.”

 

The walls of Mr. Overton's office were hung with certificates, diplomas, the odd painting of some abstract scene, and several old, faded portraits of angry men and women. Previous curators, I imagined. There were several artifacts around the room; some of the smaller ones were on shelves or ledges. An odd collection of thick chains and heavy locks was piled up in one of the corners. If it hadn't looked like they had been placed there with some care, I might have thought Mr. Overton used chains and locks as a regular part of his meetings. I was about to stand up from the leather chair I was in to investigate the oddity a bit more when the office door opened and in walked Mr. Overton.

“Dean!” A smile spread across his face, and he crossed the five or six meters between the door and my chair before I had a chance to stand. “My boy, it's good to see you.”

“It is, sir?”

He reached out and grabbed my hand before I could shove it in my pocket and gave it several enthusiastic pumps.
Great
, I thought,
more physical contact
. Yet another person I have to worry about dying.

“Of course it is, Dean.”

“Then…you're not upset at me for what's going on outside? You don't blame me?”

Mr. Overton gave the top of my head a rub, then moved to his desk and sat on the corner. “Oh, you bet I do,” he said. “You get full credit for that, young man. Full credit indeed.”

“Oh.” I felt like reminding him that the protestors had been out there long before my little incident, but I decided it would probably only make matters worse. So instead I said, “That's why I'm here, sir. I wanted to apologize for my actions. It was all a big misunderstanding. Just a silly accident. But clearly, it's made some challenges for you, and I guess for that monk too.”

“Challenges?” Mr. Overton waved his hand. “You mean the protestors? Nonsense.”

I blinked. “Nonsense?”

“Nonsense,” he repeated, looking very pleased. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, young man.”

“You do?”

“We've had that artifact on display for almost two weeks, and guess how much it increased attendance?”

“I…I don't have a clue, sir. Lots?”

“None.” He shook his head. “Sure, it was in the papers because of the protestors, but it never made the top story, never front page. Even the local newspaper buried it on page six. Page six!” he repeated dejectedly. “That's the Community Arts section. The write-up about the Buddha head was underneath an article about how the community theatre was doing
The Wizard of Oz
for the hundredth time. Even our coprolite exhibit drew more attention than the Buddha head, and that head cost us almost a quarter of our annual budget.”

“I don't understand,” I managed to say.

“I'll admit it, Dean. Yesterday I thought your little scuffle was going to make even fewer people come here. But did you see the line outside?”

I nodded.

He jumped up, paced to the window, and looked out. “It's huge. I can't remember the last time we've actually had that kind of line. And did you see the newspaper this morning?”

I groaned inwardly.

“Of course you did,” he said quickly. “Front page. Finally!”

“So it's a
good
thing, what happened yesterday?”

“I know I banned you, Dean, but consider that ban lifted. You're welcome here anytime.”

I sighed. “Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. I've been feeling bad for causing that monk to get kicked out. My mom said it's probably pretty important for him to see that artifact every day.”

“Oh, well,” the curator began, “
he's
still banned—actually, they all are.”

“But you said—”

“Dean, they were making it uncomfortable for patrons to view the artifact long before you came into the picture. There were other complaints. I need to make sure that doesn't happen again. The artifact is on loan, you know. We only get it for a month. That means we only have two weeks left. Plus, quite a few of those protestors are here because Mr. Pran was kicked out, and all the news crews are here because of your little altercation. If I let the monks back, things will just go back to normal.” He shook his head. “Normal is not good.” He smiled. “Do you know there are even groups of protestors walking around the whole block with their angry little signs for everyone who drives by to see? It's the cheapest advertising we've ever gotten.”

“But, sir,” I said, “isn't that relic important to those monks? I mean, aren't you kind of taking advantage of them?”

“It's just two more weeks, Dean. Then they'll get to see the artifact as much as they want.” He checked his watch. “I'm afraid I have some meetings this morning, but I'm glad you stopped by. Don't worry about the monks. They'll follow the relic to the next museum, and I'm sure they'll get to spend all the time they want with it there.” He opened the door and stood to the side.

It wasn't exactly what my mom had wanted me to accomplish, but I had to admit I felt a lot better. It had been an accident, and while I owed the monk an apology, which I'd give him soon enough, it wasn't like he'd never be allowed to see his precious relic again—just not for two weeks. He couldn't be too upset about that. It wasn't exactly
fair
, but I'd done what I could do. I took a step through the door and suddenly remembered my vision. The security guard's twisted face filled my mind.

“Mr. Overton,” I said, turning back to the curator, “I'd like to apologize to the officer from yesterday. I think his name was Fisher?”

“Fisher, Fisher…” He tapped his chin. “Oh, yes, Mr. Fisher is on the night shift today, so he won't be starting until eight. I believe he works most Sundays during the day, though. Perhaps you can stop by over the weekend.”

“Yeah, right. He'll be dead by then,” I muttered.

The curator's eyes widened. “Come again?”

“Oh, um.” I scrambled for a lie. “I just said that I'd probably be in bed by then.”

Mr. Overton blinked twice and gave his head a quick shake. “Right, well, he'll probably be here most of the day on Sunday, so when you wake up, come on down. I'm sure he'll appreciate the apology.”

“Okay. Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to stop by.”

He rubbed my head again as I turned back to the hallway and left the room. I hate it when people rub my head.

 

“He wasn't mad?” Colin asked after I'd found him and Lisa and told them how things had gone.

“Nope,” I said. “He thanked me.”

Lisa's face scrunched. “What a jerk.”

“What?” I asked. “A jerk? Why? He didn't get me in trouble. He said I'm welcome anytime.”

“He's exploiting those monks to make the museum more popular, Dean. In fact, he's a double jerk, since that was his goal all along. The whole reason he brought that artifact here to begin with was probably to get protestors.”

“I agree with Lisa,” Colin said, “and I don't do that if it can be helped.” Sarcastic or not, Colin's comment seemed to be appreciated by Lisa. Her lips pursed with resolve, and she nodded quickly.

I shrugged. “Okay, so he's a jerk. Nothing we can do about it. I said I was sorry. I asked if the monk could be allowed back in, and he said no. It would be bad for business, I guess.”

“Bad for business?” Lisa said through clenched teeth. “Bad for business?” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Maybe we should just go tell those news people what he said.”

I groaned. “C'mon, Lisa. Forget about it. It's just two weeks. The monks probably don't even care.” She gave me a look that could have frozen hot water, but I ignored it…or at least tried hard to.

Colin piped up. “Let's just find that bald kid, apologize, and then go meet up with Archer. I think the upcoming museum heist and two deaths are a bit higher up on the list of important things.”

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “The museum deserves to be robbed. Maybe we shouldn't even try to stop it.”

“We're not trying to stop
it
, Lisa.” Stress added an edge to my voice. “We're trying to stop two people from dying, remember?”

She blushed and looked at the ground.

“Now I agree with Dean,” Colin said. “Let's get this apology nonsense over with so we can go talk to Archer. We need to learn more about magic societies, blood rites, and sacred oaths.”

I blinked. “Magic? Blood rites? You have to stop watching all those conspiracy movies, Colin. The Society doesn't have any of those things.”

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head slowly until his ear was pressed firmly to his shoulder and his eyes were as wide as he could make them, then he lowered his voice and spoke with a spooky tone. “Are you
really
sure?”

“You have problems,” I said.

“I saw a couple of the monks when we were in line,” Lisa said. “The young one is probably with them. Just keep your head down and Colin and I will bring you close to him so you can say you're sorry.”

“Keep my head down? Like I did in the line? Yeah, that worked pretty well. No one recognized me at all.”

As if on cue, an angry male voice spoke up from behind me. “Hey, you're that kid. The one from the newspaper.”

I instinctively lowered my head and let Colin and Lisa step up to block me from the voice.

“Nope,” Colin said, “my…little
brother
hasn't ever been in the newspaper.” I guess I should have been grateful that I was at least Colin's brother rather than his sister, but I didn't know why he didn't just say I was his friend.

“Hey, guys,” the man called. “Over here.”

The man was waving over a group of twenty people or so. Some of them had signs held over their heads. As the group started walking toward us, I decided it was time to move on and promptly jogged away.

“Where are you going?” the man shouted. “I was talking to you.” There was a pause, and I imagined that the man was telling everyone who I was. More angry shouts came from the group, but I didn't bother to acknowledge them.

Lisa nudged me toward a small grove of trees on the chunk of lawn that separated the museum from the street. It was far enough from the building that the protestors probably wouldn't be interested in it, and since it was off the sidewalk, we might not be noticed.

“Just ignore them,” Lisa said once we were standing beneath the branches.

“Yeah,” Colin said. “Half those people are crazy, and the other half would probably protest a new traffic light for being too controlling.” He thought for a second and then added, “But I guess your disguise isn't really as good as I thought it was.”

“My disguise is a hat,” I said. “That doesn't qualify as a disguise in anyone's book.”

“Just wait here,” Colin said. “Lisa and I will go see if we can find the monk and get him to come over here.” He nodded to Lisa. “Right?”

Lisa didn't answer. Her attention was fixed on something in the small park across the street. “Is that…?”

I followed her gaze to the small patch of green. Something orange moved between the branches of the trees and shrubs around the park's perimeter.

“What?” I said, squinting. I blinked and finally realized what Lisa was looking at. The orange was the distinctive color of the robes the monks wore, and sure enough, a second later, a monk paced past a small break in the trees, then turned and disappeared behind them again.