Masters of the Veil (22 page)

Sam paused a moment to take it in. “Pretty powerful story.”

Daphne gave a serene nod. “The Veil is pretty powerful.”

“Then why is everyone scared of
power
magics?”

At this, Daphne’s eyes fell to the ground. “It’s not the magic.”

“Then what? It seems to me like somebody freaks out every time the subject comes up.”

“Let’s just talk about something else.”

Sam shrugged. He didn’t push the subject, especially since Glissandro had promised him answers from the Mystics. “Like what?”

“I don’t know.” She held her pink second-skin in front of her face, examining it like a normal girl would examine her fingernails. “Don’t you have a million questions about us? I know I did when I got here.”

“I’ve got a question.”

Daphne waited. “What?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

She sighed, but Sam was sure he could hear a smile beneath it. “Out of all the questions in the world. You could ask about our past, our customs, our heroes, our foods, anything. And you ask that?”

“Right now, I think it’s the most important thing.”

“You really are a jock.”

“Regardless, I stick by my question.”

She bit her bottom lip. “No… and I’m not looking.”

“Perfect, because that’s exactly when you find things.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Right now, I’m just interested in the Veil. And you should be, too.”

“The Veil can’t keep you warm like I can.”

She raised her palm and curled her fingers inward. A flame blossomed in her hand. “You were saying?”

“So what about your family?” Sam shrugged and changed the subject. “Where are they?”

She straightened out her hand and the flame died out. “I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

“Why not?”

She paused for a second, refusing to meet Sam’s gaze. “I just don’t.”

Sam saw her eyes start to gloss over.

“Sorry, I won’t pry.”

“It’s okay.” She swallowed hard and then forced a smile. “So, did you catch my mention of Cassiella before?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s got a thing for you. She couldn’t stop talking about you when we were searching for the amorberry.”

He shrugged. “That’s cool.”

“So…”

Sam stretched and put his arm around the back of her chair. “So what?”

“Are you going to do something about it?”

“She’s not my type.”

Daphne looked offended. She slapped him playfully on the chest. “She’s wonderful.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I wanted to come here with
you,
not her.”

Even in the darkness, Sam could see her face turn red. “I’m going to go get some snacks.”

Without looking at him, she got up, and Sam was left alone with his thoughts.
Wonder what my parents are doing? Dad was so angry when I left. The next time I see May, I’m giving her another hug for fixing everything. Wonder what the NFL’s policy would be on second-skins—I don’t ever want to take this off.
He peeled up the section on his wrist and took a sniff.

Still clean
.

“Hey there,” Glissandro plopped down on the grassy seat next to him. “I see your aim has improved.”

“I see you’ve been aiming, yourself.” Sam grinned.

Glissandro gave a shy smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

Glissandro’s face was red again. “Good choice not to face Petir. You would have broken your skin.”

“Thanks for all the confidence.”

Glissandro gave Sam a mischievous smile.

“It was tougher than you think.” Sam stuck out his hand and curled it into a fist. “I’m a competitor and when you don’t compete for a while, it kind of itches.”

“So tonight I’ll race you up the mountain.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What’s up the mountain?”

Glissandro stared at Sam for a silent moment. After a few beats, he played a low moan. “Answers.”

Daphne’s friends filed into the seats around them. As they sat, the grass turned from red back to green. Chairs all around flickered from red to green as they were claimed by the rest of the town, and Sam couldn’t help but think of Christmas.

Do they have Christmas in Atlas Crown?

“Big turnout,” Sam said to no one in particular.

“This is about more than entertainment,” said Daphne’s friend Helenia, the tan one with the sugar flute. “And the reenactments are usually really good.”

Helenia had an enticing smile, long legs, and a pumpkin-hued second-skin. She gave Daphne a run for her money for best-looking sorcerer. As she took the seat closest to Glissandro, he turned a shade of red Sam hadn’t thought possible. Glissandro went to play his horn, and then paused, his fingers tightening around it.

“Are there even enough seats?” Sam asked Helenia, giving Glissandro time to compose himself.

Helenia brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “They can always make more.”

“Plus, there’s a lot of people acting.” Glissandro kept his eyes on the seat in front of him. “I think half the town tried out for this one.”

Sam stared at the stage, drumming a beat on the seat in front of him. “Who came up with this story?”

“Not sure,” Helenia said. “They usually keep it a surprise until the end.”

Glissandro played a soft, dissonant note. “I just hope it’s good.”

Helenia’s eyes opened wide in recognition. “I bet it was a Wapawche.” She slapped Glissandro’s knee. “They wouldn’t miss this opportunity.”

Glissandro looked down to where Helenia’s hand lingered on his knee. He went to play something, but all that came out was a wet buzz.

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why the Wapawche?”

“Rona’s last show was a huge hit,” another one of Daphne’s friends, Nina, said. “I’m sure the Wapawches spent weeks coming up with something to outshine him. They can’t stand to be outdone.”

Sam stopped his drumming and gave Nina a curious look. “I thought this place was all smiles and working together and stuff, what with the Veil and all.”

“Just because we have the Veil doesn’t mean we’re not human,” Daphne sat back down in the seat next to him. “Dreckler cotton?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sam pulled out a sizable portion.

“The Wapawches are always looking to prove why they’re the best clan.” Helenia performed a grip that created a mirrored surface along the palm of her second-skin, which she held up to her face. She pulled out a pink string bean, squeezed it and spread its contents on her lips, leaving them glossy. “They can’t stand that none of their children are in Rona’s group.”

Sam couldn’t stop staring. “Why?”

“Because nine times out of ten, people in Rona’s group end up doing great things. It’s universally known that he’s the best teacher.” Nina mirrored Helenia’s actions with her own bean, a slightly darker shade. “Not just in Atlas Crown. That’s why we’re so proud of our Daphne.”

Daphne blushed.

“Speaking of Rona,” Helenia touched up the corners of her mouth and put her hand away, “how did you manage to get into his group, Sam? I’ve been trying for years.”

At the chance to impress her, Sam decided to tell her the truth. “Back at my football game, I had my first grip and—”

“The Rono clan wants him,” Glissandro interrupted. “Rona wanted to keep him close and give him a bit of training before the ceremony.”

Helenia’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. “I thought it was because—”

“He’s just being modest.” Glissandro shot Sam a look that said, ‘drop it.’

“You’re lucky.” Helenia tapped the butterfly symbol on her chest. “You should display that symbol proudly after Omani.”

Nina gave a skeptical scoff. “When was the last time the Rono clan took an outsider?”

“Look,” Glissandro played, “it’s about to start.”

Sam heard the squelching curtain before he saw it. Someone dressed all in black prodded the purple goop with long electric strands from his second-skin. The curtain folded in on itself, rising to the cave ceiling.

“That should be the last magic until the end,” Daphne told him quietly.

Sam leaned forward. “Who is that?”

“The conductor,” she whispered. “He’s our head grower, F—”

“Fernando?”

Daphne gave an impressed nod.

Something up front made a low, droning noise as the conductor made leisurely passes through the air with his pointer finger. A slight tremble of hand drums joined the drone. The ominous score echoed through the theatre.

“Why aren’t you playing?” Sam whispered to Glissandro.

The side of Glissandro’s mouth curled into a crafty smile. He pointed at his eyes and then back at the stage.

The sound grew brighter. A musician hidden in the rafters made tiny pings, like fingernails against hollow metal. Some horn blasts caused a few audience members in front of Sam to jerk upright in their seats.

The first actors came on stage. He had never been one to go to any of the school plays—or any plays, for that matter—but nevertheless, he felt a smile forming on his lips.

Before Sam knew it, the curtain dropped for intermission.

Sam’s eyes hadn’t wandered from the stage for the entire first half, even though the reenactment had been composed of few words and mostly music. The story had been completely different from the one Daphne had told him. This play was—if he had understood correctly—about the Veil having an evil sister, who tortured the actors by setting beasts upon their crops, setting fire to their homes, and tormenting the children.

The most exciting part for Sam, however, had been when the black fruit showed up on stage. Sam never thought a fruit could be scary, yet every time one popped up, he’d felt some panic. Right in the middle of the happier musical compositions, when the actors were dancing and singing, a black fruit would grow and all the noise was sucked away. The actors grabbed their throats and stomped, but no sound would come.

Every time the fruit showed up, Glissandro winced.

The first act had concluded with one of the actresses eating the fruit in an attempt to bring the sound back for the others. Her face had contorted in pain, and she fell to the ground, accompanied by a low, sad chord that died out as Fernando waved at the purple curtain, which dropped in front of the stage.

“Wow,” Daphne said, after the applause had receded.

“I didn’t see that coming.” Nina’s cheeks were wet. “What a powerful scene.”

“Those fruit aren’t real, right?” Sam asked, chomping away at a mouthful of dreckler cotton.

“I don’t think so,” Daphne said. “But whoever thought that up has a twisted imagination.”

“But brilliant!” Helenia flipped her hair back. “The Veil having a wicked sister, it’s so good. Poor Rona, I think the Wapawches actually outdid him.”

“We still don’t know if She has a evil sister,” Glissandro played.

Helenia scanned the crowd. “I think it’s safe to assume.”

Glissandro kept his eyes on his feet. “Maybe. But we won’t be sure until the end.”

Daphne picked at the small pile of dreckler cotton she had left. “I almost didn’t recognize Cassiella.”

“Was that her?” Helenia asked. “The Veil’s sister?”

Daphne nodded. “She plays a convincing villain.”

“She does.” Nina put on a devilish smile. “I always knew she could be sneaky if she wanted to.”

“So, just to be clear,” Sam repeated. “Those fruits aren’t real?”

The girls started giggling again.

Daphne wrinkled her nose. “You know, you’re kind of a big chicken.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and cracked his knuckles. “Would a chicken have snuck up to that monster plant and grabbed one of its thorns?”

Nina’s eyebrows lowered. “What’s a chicken?”

Daphne ignored her. “No, but a chicken would definitely turn down a gumptius challenge. What’s the matter, Sam, scared of breaking your skin?”

The girls giggled even louder, but Sam didn’t find it so funny. Immediately, he felt his face grow hot.

“I don’t blame you.” Nina combed her hands through her hair. “Petir would have definitely broken your second-skin. He would have broken any of ours.”

“You don’t understand.” Heat filled Sam’s tone. “I could have beat him. Earlier today I made a whole riv—”

Glissandro cut him off with a blast of noise.

The whole audience went silent and turned around to see what the commotion was about.

“Sorry,” Glissandro played softly, his head down and his eyes pinned on the ground in front of them. “Wrong note.”

A few people close to them laughed, and conversation returned to normal.

Glissandro gave Sam a small shake of his head.

“What was that about?” Nina asked.

“Nothing,” Sam huffed.

The next few minutes were filled with conversation about the play, which Sam mostly stayed out of. He didn’t look at Daphne, even when she tried to engage him about the part of the play where the lizard permanently attached itself, like a leech, to one of the townsfolk. He still couldn’t believe she would say something like that in front of her friends. Sam gave her short, one-word answers and hoped she’d leave him alone.

Thankfully, Fernando came back onstage, conducted a short piece, and then prodded the curtain back up.

Sam wasn’t nearly as interested this time.

The scene started with Cassiella rampaging though the town and yet again torturing the townsfolk. Out of the corner of Sam’s eye, he saw Helenia slip her fingers on top of Glissandro’s hand. Glissandro went stiff as a board, but after a few seconds he turned his hand over so their fingers could intertwine.

Glissandro’s eyes flickered over to Sam’s face. Sam gave him a quick wink and flashed a thumbs-up against his stomach. Glissandro gave the smallest of nods and relaxed his shoulders a bit.

Sam turned his focus to the stage and was instantly drawn back into the story. The music was loud and clamorous, with a lot of off-tempo drum hits. He watched as the Veil’s sister stole children, draped the land to stay barren, and drank the clouds—Sam couldn’t figure out how they pulled off the effects without magic. She even tossed out the black fruit like grenades.

“I’m sorry,” Daphne whispered in Sam’s ear.