Alight The Peril (11 page)

Corinne?
Mason’s faint voice was distorted, as though it traveled to me over a great distance.

Hands maneuvered me by the arms and shoulders until I sat with my back against a tree stump. I tried to ask Aunt Dorothy whether we’d passed the drill, but my lips remained stubbornly slack. She pressed something soft into my hand and closed my fingers around it, holding my hand in a weak fist, and after a moment, strength began to return to my muscles. I uncurled my fingers and looked down at a small sprig of slender, pale green stems with purple flowers so tiny they were hardly more than dots.

“Looks innocent enough, but it’s very powerful for restoring strength,” Aunt Dorothy said.

“What happened?” I finally managed. Ang, Sophie, Mason, and Mr. Sykes stood around me in a concerned ring.

“You nearly burned yourself out.” Aunt Dorothy sounded matter-of-fact, but her eyebrows drew together, shadowing her eyes. “A valiant effort, but wholly unnecessary to strain yourself that way. We’re going to try that again, but this time working together.”

“I’m sorry, Corinne,” Ang said. “I wanted to help, but I didn’t know what to do.”

I looked at Aunt Dorothy. “Yeah, how are we supposed to work together if we don’t know
how
?” I tried to keep my irritation in check. But what was the point of throwing us into a drill with no warnings or direction?

“She’s right,” Mr. Sykes said, and sighed. “We didn’t know either, when we started.”

Aunt Dorothy harrumphed and planted her hands on her hips. “I suppose you could be right.”

I gave Mr. Sykes a tiny, grateful smile, and he winked when Aunt Dorothy wasn’t looking.

“While Corinne recovers a bit more, we’ll have a lesson.” My great aunt squared her shoulders and assumed the teacherly air she’d had earlier. “Guardians, the net you wove earlier is very useful in a drill such as this one. If you were to cast a net in the shape of a funnel, Corinne could use it to amplify the influences so she would not have to use up so much energy.”

“A funnel?” Sophie said, an incredulous frown making her eyes all squinty. “No offense, but it took us, like, all morning just to cast one net over a bunch of flowers. How are we supposed to make one into a complicated shape when we’re freaking out over some nasty black fog?”

I held my breath, waiting—and kind of hoping—that Aunt Dorothy would reprimand Sophie for her snotty tone. But no reproach came.

“It’s not much more complicated, my dear. Here, let us have the two of you try it. Form one that begins at that rock and narrows all the way to that large shrub.” Aunt Dorothy gestured. “As though the center is being pulled away from you while the edges remain stationary.”

Ang and Sophie started to weave a funnel that winked out of existence a few seconds later.

What was
that
?
I said to Mason.
If I talked like that to Aunt Dorothy, she’d burn holes through my head with her eyes.

Yeah, that was weird,
he agreed.
You going to be okay?

A few more minutes, and I think I will be.
I examined the tiny flowers in my palm again.

Mason sat down next to me, his back against the stump and his upper arm pressed against mine. A small surge of energy spread from where our bare skin touched, filling me with warmth and strength.

It’s too bad you can’t see this,
I said. After a few more tries, the two Guardians formed a funnel that held. Aunt Dorothy whispered something to Mr. S, and they both nodded. “Excellent!” she called. “Now see if you can extend and shorten it.”

The gossamer funnel shivered, then began to stretch past the meadow and into the woods beyond. Then it shrank back on itself, growing more compact until the wide end and the narrow end were only a few feet apart. Sophie stood with her feet planted wide and fists clamped against her thighs, but she looked a lot calmer than she had earlier today. Ang’s face was soft, her eyes intent and unblinking.

“One more challenge,” Aunt Dorothy said, pointing. “Swing it around ninety degrees.”

The narrow end of the funnel rotated from west to south.

“Way to go!” I cheered. This could work. If I could send a burst of influences swirling around the inner walls of the funnel, gaining momentum as it neared the narrow end, it would shoot like a bullet into its target.

Aunt Dorothy nodded with satisfaction, and they all joined me and Mason.

“I’m sorry, but I just have to ask something,” Sophie said. She jutted out her hip and planted her hand on it.

“Please do,” Aunt Dorothy said.

“Why are we fighting fog? I mean, it smells awful and it’s obviously made of something . . .
evil
, I guess. But so what? Couldn’t we just let the wind blow it away and not worry about it?”

“It is not simply fog,” Aunt Dorothy said. “It is a sort of elemental material from which malevolence takes form, if it is left alone.”

“What kind of form?” Mason asked.

Aunt Dorothy hesitated and glanced at Mr. Sykes, and a silent agreement seemed to pass between them. “Human form,” she said.

A cold shudder raised goose bumps up my arms and neck. No one spoke for several seconds.

“It can take on human form, yes.” Mr. Sykes broke the silence. “But that requires considerable time and inattention on our part. Most likely, we would detect it and stop it before that ever happened. The larger concern is an entirely different scenario. The fog’s essence also can infect people. It may infect their bodies, their minds, or both. Those who are weak—either in body or in mind—are most vulnerable.”

Aunt Dorothy took in our tense faces. “As Harold said, we won’t let that happen. Let’s try the drill again, shall we?”

Mason pulled me up, and I stood for a second, testing my balance and strength. I flexed my hands and shook out my arms, surprised to find my muscles so renewed.

Aunt Dorothy once again lit a match under the grooved chunk of wood, and we all assumed our positions around the meadow.

My heart pounded as I waited for the fog to appear among the Ponderosa pines, but I stood determined, with my feet planted wide.

As soon as you see it, go ahead with the funnel,
I said to the two Guardians through our link.
I’ll try to keep the influences aimed down the middle, because I’m not sure what will happen if I bump the sides too hard.

Ang and Sophie nodded in unison, but didn’t reply. I wondered if they were already communicating with each other through their private link.

A low groan like a distant foghorn drifted from the forest, and the first tendrils of fog crept into view. It built on itself, like waves from an unseen sea, and began rushing toward us much more rapidly than last time. Blue sparks flew from my left, where Mason stood, but I kept my focus ahead.

The gossamer funnel shimmered into place, and I probed for the heart of the cloud billowing over the meadow.

Rotate it to the right. Aim at the tallest tree,
I said to Ang and Sophie.

I drew a slow breath and turned my focus inward, gathering a swirl of
pyxis
influences much smaller than the previous one I’d used, resisting the urge to build as much as I could hold.

The leading tendrils of fog reached toward the Guardians, mere feet away from their legs, and my heart pounded harder. The funnel moved into place, and as soon as it stopped, I let loose with the influences. A barely visible shimmer passed over the inner surface of the funnel, curling toward the narrow tip. Sophie and Ang both teetered as if the ground shook beneath them, but the funnel stayed still and intact.

A whoosh of air followed the influences into the funnel, pulling my hair around my face. I hastily brushed my bangs from my eyes and watched as the fog shrank in on itself and disappeared, and the funnel winked out.

“Ha! We did it!” Mason crowed. He picked me up, his arms around my waist, and spun me around. The hot scent of vanilla and cedar overwhelmed me, and the heat of his skin on mine was almost too much to bear. I grinned up at him and straightened my shirt self-consciously when he set me back on the ground.

Ang and Sophie joined us, and I gave Ang a sideways hug. Sophie folded her arms and looked toward the water.

“How did it feel? It didn’t hurt, did it?” I asked them.

Ang shook her head. “It just felt like everything tipped for a second, but it didn’t hurt.”

“That was amazing,” I said. “The two of you did that perfectly.”

Ang beamed, but Sophie gave a tiny shrug. I tried to read her mood, but her thoughts were oddly muted in my mind.

“Excellent work.” Aunt Dorothy joined our circle, Mr. Sykes not far behind. “You’ve passed the second drill.”

I couldn’t decide if Sophie looked more bored or irritated. I formed a vortex of yellow for loyalty, and a bit of orange for openness of mind, and pushed it at her, but her expression didn’t change. My stomach gave an uneasy turn. Why wasn’t she more excited? And why didn’t she seem to be reacting to the influences?

Aunt Dorothy dismissed us for the day, and we all headed toward the dirt road and our cars. Sophie marched ahead, and I jogged a couple of steps to catch up with her.

I started to reach for her shoulder, but then thought better of it. “Sophie?” I said. “I thought things went well today, you—”

She cut me off with a look of utter disdain. “Whatever. I’m not spending every weekend standing out in the meadow playing magic with a bunch of dorks. I’m totally over this. I quit.”

|| 12 ||

I STOPPED SHORT, but Sophie continued walking and didn’t look back.

I formed a strong yellow vortex, narrowed my eyes, and shot it straight at her head.

Sophie!
I said, trying to make my presence forceful through our link.
We need to talk about this.

No, we don’t. I’m done with it. Oh, by the way, you might want to watch how much you’re thinking about that other guy. You’re obviously feeling guilty about it. I can read it all over your thoughts.

I don’t feel guilty about anything!
I started, then a wall seemed to slam down in the middle of my link with Sophie. Was she
blocking
me?

Sophie continued walking away, outpacing Ang. I wanted to run after her and chew her out, especially for that last little barb, but she hopped in her car and sped away.

Back at Aunt Dorothy’s house, Mason and I sat at the kitchen table, and I told her what had passed between me and Sophie. Well, minus the part about Zane. I struggled to keep my anger from my voice. How the heck had she nearly broken her psychic connection with me?

“I have to force her to be part of the union,” I said. “How do I do that? It’s like she’s suddenly impervious to the influences.”

“Force may not be the way to go, here.” Aunt Dorothy shifted on her chair. “You and Sophie have some history, and she’s clearly a stubborn one. That combination seems to have formed a block between the two of you.”

I sighed irritably. The years-old rift between me and Sophie was mostly her fault, as I saw it. I knew I’d have to be the one to fix it, but I didn’t know where to start. Especially if she refused to talk to me. “Okay, so what do I do?”

“You will have to try to repair your relationship with her. She is a Guardian because there is potential for a deep bond between the two of you. But you are going to have to figure out how to reach that point, and soon. I suggest going back to when things first changed between you, and trying to understand what transpired.”

My stomach twisted. I’d rather do almost anything in the world. The hot pressure of tears swelled behind my eyes. I had to make things work—I desperately wanted to bring my union together—but it really tweaked me that I’d have to beg
Sophie Marcelle
to talk to me.

“If you think that’s what I need to do, then I’ll do it,” I said, pushing confidence I didn’t feel into my voice.

During family dinner later that evening, I barely tuned in to the conversation between my parents and Brad. Exhaustion pulled at my eyelids, and I struggled to keep myself upright in my chair. I wanted to sink into my bed for about a year.

After Brad and I finished the dishes, I escaped to my room and collapsed on top of the coverlet. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the cove, the version of it that existed in the hypercosmic realm.

A soft breeze billowed around my hair and my shoulders, and sensing someone behind me, I turned.

“Hey,” Zane said, his blue eyes amused. He stood so close, I could feel the small puffs of his breath on my face.

I shuffled back half a step, kicking some sand. “Oh, um, my Aunt Dorothy says I’m not supposed to talk to you. She says it’s dangerous.” Despite my words, my heart raced at his presence. Heat radiated from Zane and washed over my bare arms.

His face turned menacing, his dark eyebrows hiding his eyes in shadow. “Lots of things are dangerous, Pyxis.” Then he grinned, and the bar piercing his eyebrow glinted with starlight.

“But if there’s a breach at Perth, and we’re connected, and—”

“Yes, there’s some risk,” he said. I tried to focus on his words instead of his accent, which made everything he said sound exotic and mysterious. “But we won’t let that happen. Don’t worry about the Perth convergence. You have plenty of other things to occupy you now.”

Understatement of the year.

Despite Aunt Dorothy’s warnings, I wanted to trust Zane. His words reassured me, and I believed him. Maybe because he was a Shield, his presence eased me. It was similar with Mason, but somehow . . . deeper. Zane had experience; he had been at this for a while. He was older, probably eighteen or nineteen years old. Zane might have three or four years already as a Shield. I trusted Mason, of course, but . . . I just wished we weren’t so new to all of it.

“There was something you wanted to tell me before,” I said.

Zane nodded, and a look of intensity crossed his face. He drew a breath, but then cleared his throat and his semi-amused expression returned. “I know you’ve discovered the website, but don’t know how to get in.”