The Curse of Arkady (9 page)

“Ah. From different schools but sharing the same booth! That's the spirit! That's what we're all here for. And who are you rooting for in the big game tomorrow?”

Ting stared at Bailey and Bailey stared back at Ting. Neither of them had really wanted to stay for the football game; they were doing the matinee instead. They both shrugged.

Mrs. Nicholas laughed and hugged them both. “Just smile and pretend you like football if anyone asks.”

Bailey took their placards and tucked them under one arm. “We need to finish setting up the booth,” she explained.

“Of course. Oh, and your mother called, Bailey. She said she was going to be at the office for another hour, and you'll have to take the bus home. Is that going to be a problem for you girls?”

“Nah.” Bailey shook her head. “I do it all the time. Working mom, you know?”

“I know,” smiled Mrs. Nicholas. “Take your pick of any of the garlands and banners. Tomorrow, there should be squash for everyone, too.”

“Just what I want! A squash!” Bailey laughed and waved at Mrs. Nicholas. Ting hurried after.

“You know,” Ting said thoughtfully as they found their booth (already assembled!) in the corner. “Maybe we should go to the game. Isn't Stefan a tackle on the Midford team?”

“Yup, he made the Midford Bears all right.” Bailey smothered a laugh. “And I think Rich is a trainer or something.”

“Rich?” Without missing a beat, Ting took the placards from her and taped them neatly to the front of the booth.

“You know the most physical thing he does is trot after Stefan and hope Stef doesn't shapeshift when anyone else can see. And he'd make a great trainer, he's such a hypochondriac. He knows how to do anything for anyone who might be ill or hurt.” Bailey talked quietly, although the din in the hall was so loud, it was doubtful anyone could hear them. Still, you never knew. And this was Magicker business, and had to be taken seriously.

“Think we should go to the game?”

“And miss the movie? I've been waiting months for it!”

“Well, me, too. It's settled, then. We'll stay with the movie.” Ting tossed her long dark hair back over her shoulder before bending down to make sure their signs were securely fastened to the various booth sides.

Bailey went and found a harvest garland and began twining it about the wooden boards that formed the booth's window. She hurried, aware of the tick of time. It only took a few more minutes and they were all squared away. Bailey stepped back. CHARMS and TALISMANS for Luck and Fortune. She smiled. “Looks good!”

“Think we'll sell any?”

“I hope so, the school funds need it. And no one is doing anything like it, although my mom's probably right . . . food will sell the best. She says boys our age do nothing but eat.” She frowned slightly. “Do you think it's right?”

“What?”

“Well.” Bailey shifted her weight slightly. She lowered her voice even more. “Selling Magick.”

“No one will know it's Magick. I mean, real Magick.”

“They'll think it's just for fun, right?” Bailey wrinkled her nose dubiously.

Ting nodded, her dark hair swinging about her face. “Exactly! It can't be traced back to us. And besides, it fades after a week or so. I can't seem to put any strength into the charms. All they'll have left is a pretty bit of jewelry. It's only for fun, Bailey.”

“Still . . .”

“Look,” said Ting with a firmness not usually found in her soft voice. “Across the hall they're reading Tarot cards and they're selling fortune cookies. So . . . what could we be doing wrong?”

“It's not like anyone is going to know,” repeated Bailey.

“Right.”

“As long as it's not trouble. I get into enough on my own!” Bailey flashed a grin, then, tossing her head.

They went back to Mrs. Nicholas and confirmed they'd be back at ten in the morning for the festival, grabbed their things, and scurried out to the bus stop just as the bus pulled up. They settled on adjoining seats, and chattered about things in the ordinary world like school, boys, movies, and clothes. The blocks flew by and then their transfer stop came up. Both of them tumbled off the bus, looking for the next one that would head down Bailey's street. As they straightened and shouldered their bags, Bailey caught sight of the bus they wanted just pulling away. She bolted after it, shouting to Ting, “Come on!”

They sprinted down the block, sneakers thundering, backpacks and satchels bouncing, but the city bus pulled farther and farther away. Ting wobbled to a halt and bent over, catching her breath. Bailey slowed down, circled, and trotted back. “I'm sorry.”

Ting giggled. “Like it's your fault. Anyway, it's not far, let's walk it.”

Bailey hesitated. She dug the toe of her sneaker into the sidewalk. “Mom asked me not to walk.”

Ting considered her with almond eyes. “Because of the dog?”

“Ulysses S. Grunt.” Bailey nodded. “It's like tempting fate.”

“Well . . .” A rapidly cooling afternoon wind skittered around them. Ting shivered a bit. She dug around in her satchel, then let out an exasperated sound. “I forgot my jacket!”

“You can borrow one of mine, but we have to get home first. We'll just have to walk fast. We'll keep warmer that way, and maybe Ulysses won't notice us.”

Ting swung her long curtain of dark hair over her shoulder. “Maybe he just
looks
mean.”

“As long as it's not one of those ‘if looks could kill' situations.” Bailey tossed her head. Ting matched long, hurried steps with her. “I think it's awful that someone takes a puppy and trains 'em to be mean and nasty.”

“I don't see how you can train 'em to just be . . . well . . . stern if they've got to protect something. Some jobs call for nasty.”

“I don't know. It just doesn't seem fair to the dog. They all start out as warm, squirmy little bundles of fur.”

Ting grinned. “Only you, Bailey.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Anything further she might have said was interrupted as they approached the chain-link fencing of the used car lot and marine supplies yard, and Ulysses came bounding out, in full voice.
Thieves!
he barked.
Burglars! Trespassers!
He bounced on stiff legs, hackles raised all over his neck and shoulders, jowls rippling with each bark.

He hit the fence with a clang of enthusiasm and warning. The structure trembled and rang like a gong as he slammed his thick, square body into it again and again. Bailey muttered, “Oh, shush, Ulysses. I walked by this morning and didn't touch a thing!” She put her nose in the air and walked faster, Ting scurrying to keep up. The sidewalk was broken here, in spots, with tiny clumps of wilting crab grass growing out of it, and fractured lines where the concrete mysteriously bulged up, but whatever tree roots might have caused it could no longer be seen.

Ulysses bellowed more dog warnings and curses at them. He began to sound out of breath.

“He'll huff and puff till he blows the fence down,” noted Ting, almost as breathless as the dog.

Both of them shivered. They were more than halfway past the long car and boat lot now, and the dog seemed more determined than ever. The chained front gate with its signs rattled and clanged as Ulysses hit them. Bailey thought she saw the wobbly gate give way. She pushed at Ting. “Run!”

They both did, pelting across the sidewalk, but Bailey's sneaker hit a wide crack. She yelped as she fell. She went sprawling to her hands and knees, backpack flying off and skidding a few feet in front of her. Ulysses charged down the other side of the fence.

Her hands and knees burned fiercely, and her ears rang from Ulysses' loud barking. She turned her face and for a moment, was nearly nose to nose with the slobbering dog. His hot breath felt like steam across her freckled nose. His jaws opened and he charged at the bottom of the fence where it gapped.

“Oh, boy!” cried Ting. She pulled at Bailey's elbow. “Get up, get up!”

Bailey scrambled to her feet and grabbed her backpack. The outer door of the office building, a rather long trailerlike structure at the back of the car lot, opened and shut with a loud BANG!

“Ulysses!” a man bellowed. The dog paid no heed. He pawed frantically at the bottom of the fence as if he could dig a hole big enough to force his body through.

“Come on,” Ting pleaded, yanking on Bailey's arm. They skittered away from the fence and down the street as Ulysses continued his tirade at the fence corner.

Bailey tried to dust herself off as they moved.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. What's a few scrapes and bruises if I've still got my face.” Bailey grinned at her.

Ting ventured a look back. “He really is mean,” she said slowly.

“He didn't start off that way,” Bailey muttered. She checked the strap on her backpack. Things had started to work free, books and papers, and she shoved them back in place as they hurriedly walked along. They got to the corner and crossed quickly, before slowing down a bit. The wind nipped at their bare legs and arms.

“I can fix hot chocolate when we get home.”

“That sounds great! Marshmallows?”

“Maybe. They might be a little stale.”

“Stale marshmallows melt slower in hot chocolate,” Ting said with delight.

By the time they got to Bailey's building, the two of them had planned a snack that included graham crackers spread with chunky peanut butter and fresh bananas on top. Bailey could hardly wait to get her key in the apartment door lock. Her mom wouldn't mind her cooking a little bit as long as they cleaned up.

Long moments later, they sat in the chairs surrounding a small table in the kitchen nook, swinging their legs and contentedly looking for a few last crumbs. Ting took out her crystal. It was a soft daffodil-yellow color.

“Did you get that polished?”

“A little. I wanted to be sure I couldn't . . . you know . . . hurt it somehow.”

Bailey smiled at her. Ting's first crystal, a pinkish quartz, had gone to pieces on her. She was very careful with the second one bonded to her at summer camp. She'd kept all the shattered pieces from the first, occasionally making one of the glowing bits into a pretty piece of jewelry. Bailey eyed the quartz. “Looks cool. I wonder if I should get my amethyst polished.”

She reached for her crystal. She patted her pockets.

Bailey blinked.

She pulled her backpack to her and rummaged through it. Then she held it upside down over the table and watched everything shower out of it.

Everything but her crystal.

She reached in her pocket again and finally, finally, fished out the chain. Snapped in two, the pretty twisted silver chain lay across her hand, empty.

Bailey sat back in her chair.

“What is it?” asked Ting slowly, as if afraid she already knew the answer.

“It's gone.” She closed her eyes in thought a moment, remembering the dog pawing frantically at the pavement. “It's gone! And we've gotta go back and get it.”

T
ING'S face paled. “You can't mean that!”

“I have to have my crystal. I have to. You know what happened last time I lost it.” She searched frantically through her backpack, coming up empty-handed. “I bet it fell out when I dropped the pack. The chain must have snapped.” Bailey frowned and then rubbed between her brows, erasing the mark as she often saw her mom and grandma do. She thought the faint wrinkles made her grandmother interesting, but they seemed to feel differently. “Rub that line out,” they were always lecturing her. It hadn't worked on them, but who knew? “We've got to go get it.”

“It's almost dark. Your mom will be off work soon. Can't we go back with her?” Ting watched her, worry all over her slender face.

Bailey shook her head emphatically, her ponytail bouncing from side to side. “She'd never understand.” The two stopped talking and looked at each other for a moment.

“That's the hardest thing, isn't it,” Ting said slowly. “My mom is so cool, and I can't tell her. I can't tell her anything.”

Bailey nodded, wordlessly. As close as she was to her mother, not a word could she say about being a Magicker. If she could have, her mom would have understood about going for the crystal. As it was, there would be no excuse for what they were about to do. With a sigh, she got up from the table and went to the tiny hall closet by the apartment front door. It was crammed with jackets and coats and odds and ends. She managed to pull out two Bailey-sized jackets and gave one to Ting. “We've gotta hurry,” she said finally.

With a resigned sigh, Ting nodded and followed her out the door. The shadows had lengthened and pooled under the trees, and night was very near. Bailey cast a look down the street, then took a long breath, pulling Ting along after her. Car headlights were already on as they came down the street slowly, in ever growing numbers as vast numbers of people got off work and headed home. She had to hurry before her mom showed up and caught her blatantly disobeying. They skittered down the sidewalks like fallen leaves in the evening breeze, shivering more from worry about what they were going to face, than the sudden cold.

The sidewalks, too, were crowded but suddenly, no one seemed to be nearby as they drew close to the car and boat lot. In the twilight, the looming shadowy bodies of cars, boats, and trucks looked like great, dark beasts hunkered down and waiting. The office in the back had no lights and seemed very quiet and still. The chain-link fence rattled eerily in the near dark as the wind shook it. It seemed terribly fragile. Bailey slowed and Ting stopped altogether, standing on one foot and then another.