Of Enemies and Endings (4 page)

“Ugh, Ben,” Darcy said, right on his heels. She stepped inside, flipped a sleeping witch on her stomach, and started tying the new prisoner's hands behind her back.

Kenneth almost slipped on the hail melting on the porch and cursed. Then he saw the witches inside and cursed again. “No way. I'm not carrying them. You woke me up saying we would get to fight some witches, not clean up after these guys.”

We slid back into our usual habits so easily. It always amazed me, when I had time to think about it. Sure, the Wolfsbane clan had almost managed to kill me this morning. They'd even used some very scary spells, but we couldn't dwell on it. We had too much to do.

Only one person in the room hadn't chimed in. Amy hadn't told me off for putting myself in danger. She hadn't even protested about the muddy sticks on the clean kitchen counter. She just stared straight, her eyes unfocused.

“Amy?” I was suddenly worried she was going to faint.

Her eyes met mine. Slowly, her slack mouth formed a wry smile. “I'm just shocked that you haven't said ‘I told you so' yet. I would deserve it. It's definitely time to move. Do you think we could recruit any of these kids to carry boxes, or are they too busy bagging and tagging witches?”

I smiled back, not fooled. She was pretending she wasn't scared, making wisecracks like nothing was wrong. She was following our lead.

Conner craned his neck into the dining room. The table had almost disappeared under a pile of cardboard boxes. “You mean these?”

Kyle leaned his spear against the wall and picked one up. “We can handle it, Miss Stevens.”

For a second Amy half-smiled, like she'd realized how nice it was to have a squadron of athletic teenagers around on moving day. Then she said, not bothering to joke, “Your mother knows the emergency's over, right?”

Mom was probably still terrified for me, and I just stood around chatting with my friends. “Lena—?” I said, my voice weirdly shrill.

Lena handed me two shining blue rings of return. “Go. We'll take care of the rest.”

I took one and slipped it on.

It always throws you—to blink in a kitchen and open your eyes in the EAS courtyard. It was even worse this summer. It looked more like a loud, crowded village than an afterschool these days. You couldn't see any of the colored doors lining the walls. Too many houses blocked the view. At least a hundred families had seen Lena's home in the middle of the courtyard, and they'd decided to skip the rooms the Canon had offered and just move their whole
house
to EAS instead. So, we had a weird sort of neighborhood, buildings of all different sizes, all different styles. Lena's spell had plopped them down at random, so they weren't even lined up in anything resembling a street. Dirt paths wove through them instead. So many people were living here this summer that we'd worn down the once thick grass.

“Wow. You guys redecorated,” Amy said, suddenly appearing at my side with Lena's second ring of return on her finger. Amy hadn't visited EAS since sixth grade when Chase, Lena, and I were in a skit together. “I'm not sure I like it.”

I wasn't sure either. At least the Tree of Hope was the same though, its thick branches dipping down to the ground and swerving back up to the sky. It dwarfed the brick house with white columns that had been relocated just beside it. Under the Tree's canopy, the Table of Never Ending Instant Refills was still covered with its silver trays of food. Right now, strangers in suits surrounded it and balanced their plates on their briefcases. Some older Characters and some parents were grabbing breakfast before work. Even the shabby mismatched furniture hadn't changed. Heavily armed Characters on call sat waiting for mission assignments, eating and brushing crumbs off their breastplates.

I knew my mother. If she wanted answers, she would go talk to the person in charge—the same way she would interview the principal every time I changed schools. I tried not to imagine what kind of scene they would make if Mildred actually opened the door. I walked toward the Director's office. “This way,” I told Amy. The fastest route was through all the people.

Dozens of eyes flashed toward me. Hands hid mouths. Hissing whispers reached my ears.

“. . . Unwritten Tale . . .”

“. . . dueled Torlauth di Morgian. She beat him in less than . . .”

“. . .Triumvirate with Lena LaMarelle and Chase Turnleaf. The last Triumvirate . . .”

I squared my shoulders and held my head high. I schooled my face to stone, determined not to show how concerned I was about Mom. Knowing the EAS rumor mill, they would assume something worse was happening.

On the other side of the Table where she assumed I couldn't hear her, one of the seventh graders was practically shouting the story of what had happened just last week. Her friends were pretending they hadn't heard it a dozen times before. “. . . the Snow Queen's trap. The villains, they drove her to the top of the skyscraper all by herself.”

I hadn't been alone because I'd
wanted
to be.

I walked faster, like I could outrun the story and the memories that came with it. I sincerely hoped that Amy was too shaken up to pay attention to what these kids were saying.

Unfortunately, the seventh grader was just getting warmed up. Her back was to us. She didn't see me and Amy getting closer. “And you know what was waiting for her? A roof full of enemies. A hundred ice griffins and wolves. They attacked, but they couldn't even touch her. She was too fast. Then Ripper showed up, thinking he could finish Rory off. Rory couldn't kill him, because he was—you know—a pillar. But she hurt him really bad. The Big Bad Wolf was out of commission for three whole days. And the best part?”

It wasn't the best part. It was the worst part, the part that still made me want to puke.

“She couldn't fight her way back to the stairs, so she tried something else,” said the seventh grader. “She jumped off the roof and had the West Wind catch—”

We drew even with the little storyteller. She spotted me and went as scarlet as Red Riding Hood's headwear.

But mixed in with the embarrassment was happiness. Her face brightened with admiration. It was terrible to see it there. I had to figure out a way to live up to being her hero.

She couldn't know how much I wanted my mother. I wanted Mom to hug me the way she had when I was small—I wanted her to take away all my fear by kissing my forehead and asking me who her favorite daughter was.

I nodded at the seventh grader, and she beamed back.

The rest of her friends gaped at me.

We rounded the tiny bungalow that belonged to the Princess and the Pea representative. This section of the courtyard was much quieter. A group of seniors sat on the steps of a Tudor mansion, sharpening some spearheads and arrows. Miriam waved to me.

Amy had definitely heard. “So, those rumors . . . They exaggerate, right?”

I didn't say anything, which I guess kind of answered the question.

“You didn't tell us,” Amy said. That accusing tone felt way too familiar.

“I did.” I didn't lie to them anymore. “I told you that two students here, Kelly and Priya, got their Tales, and the Snow Queen set a trap for me when I went to help them.”

“You left a lot out,” Amy said. She sounded more like herself now that she was scolding me. “The
wind
caught you?”

“The West Wind,” I said. “He owed me some boons. I only have one left now, and I won't use it the same way, I promise.”

“Good. Because I thought you were afraid of heights,” Amy said.

“I am. I threw up before I jumped.” I tried so hard not to think about it, but the memory was pressing in on me, so strong I tasted bile the same way I'd tasted it then.

“Your mom deserves the whole story, every time, after—”

“Amy, please.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Not a great idea. The whole terrifying scene bloomed behind my lids. The army waiting for me. All the teeth and talons trying to rip me apart. The blood pumping out of Ripper and pooling across the roof. My feet leaving solid ground, and air whipping my clothes flat and my lungs empty. That horrible instant where I was absolutely 100 percent positive that West wouldn't reach me in time, and the instant after that, even worse, when I wondered if it would be better if he didn't catch me.

This was why I couldn't talk about it. I pressed my hand against my mouth, sure I would vomit again.

“Okay,” Amy said, sounding genuinely freaked out. Then, more gently, she added, “Okay. Let's just find your mom.”

I nodded and opened my eyes. We headed around the log cabin where Darcy and Bryan's family lived.

The amethyst door to the Director's office came into view, and right there, banging on it, was my mother. Her hair was wild, her eyes rimmed with red.

My chest clenched. I'd wanted to move here, but not like this.

“Mom!” I called, starting to jog toward her, but she didn't hear me. She was too busy arguing with my dad.

Just like old times.

“Mom!” I pushed my way through a herd of elementary schoolers, trying to get closer. They were too busy fighting to hear me. Totally the joyous reunion I was hoping for.

Brie, my stepmom, spotted us first. “Rory! We were so worried.” I hadn't seen her, all tucked away in the shadows of a tall and skinny Victorian home. She had an arm around me a second later. Just one. The other had a passenger.

“Hey, Brie.” We were careful not to crush the baby she was cradling. Stepping back, I put on a hand on the infant's back and kissed the crown of red fuzz on her head. Her hair was new. It had just started growing in this month. “Hey, Dani,” I told the baby. Dad and Brie had picked out her real name, Danica, but I'd come up with her nickname.

I'd tried to stay away from my little sister. Really, I had. The last bearer of an Unwritten Tale had driven
her
sister kind of insane. But I might not even live till the end of the summer. I couldn't do that much damage in such a short amount of time, especially when she was so small. And so helpless. I couldn't help wanting to check up on my tiny sister. Pretty much
all
the time.

“Maggie told us about the attack,” Brie patted the baby between her little shoulder blades. I took a bigger step back—I knew that move, and burping Dani usually ended in baby puke. “Witches? Seriously? I'm beginning to think Eric and I got off easy with trolls.”

A squadron of trolls had ambushed my dad and stepmom in Los Angeles right after school let out for the summer. The stress had convinced Dani it was time to be born, and Brie had gone into labor a month early. All three of them had moved straight from the hospital to their new EAS apartment.

My parents finally noticed me.

Mom held me so tightly, I was too breathless to tell her how sorry I was. Dad stopped just short of making it a group hug: He came up behind me and gripped both my shoulders. I closed my eyes. For a second, I felt almost as small as Dani again—young and protected, like I did in the days when my parents could solve all my problems.

It was a nice moment. It didn't last long.

Mom let go. It was hard to hug and yell at me at the same time, I guess. “Never
ever
do that again. If there's a choice between me or you being safe, it should
always
be you. I don't want to be safe if you're still in danger. Do you understand?”

I nodded. Of course I understood. I felt exactly the same way, but I was a lot better at protecting her than she was at protecting me. I didn't see that changing any time soon. I knew better than to say that, though.

“
I
am your mother,” Mom went on.

“Lay off, Maggie.” Now Dad got his chance for a real hug, almost lifting me off the ground. “We haven't even asked her if she's been injured or not.”

“I'm fine,” I said.

“You have a giant bruise on your forehead, Rory,” Dad pointed out.

“She came home with that yesterday,” Amy explained. “After rescuing a fourth grader in Tennessee.”

“Dragon tail.” I didn't mention the bigger bruise on my back, where the dragon's tail had actually hit me. I'd flown half the length of the yard and knocked my head on a swing set.

Everyone except Amy winced. Dad and Brie exchanged a glance. They were obviously wondering if it was worth telling me to be careful. I sighed. It was a lot easier to have adventures when my parents just thought my injuries were from being accident-prone.

“Mom already told me off about it,” I told Dad and Brie, hoping this wouldn't become a four-person lecture.

“You've been lucky so far,” Mom protested. “Right now, you just have cuts and bruises, but if you keep putting yourself in danger . . .”

This would be the perfect time for Amy to repeat the story she'd just heard, but she didn't. Maybe she wanted to tell her in private.

When I didn't say anything, Dad tried to defend me. “Maggie, technically, the witches came to you.”

“But that's the exception, isn't it?” Mom said. “Every time you go on one of these ‘missions,' you push your luck a little more. If this keeps up, you'll come home much worse off.”

A group of tenth graders glanced at us sidelong. Great, as if people weren't talking about me enough already. Now my family had to go and have a huge public fight in one of the busiest parts of the Courtyard. “Mom, can we please talk about this somewhere else?”

“Finally,” said a clipped voice at my feet. Puss had taken to wearing some chainmail over her dress. It clinked faintly as she lashed her tail. “This courtyard is a nightmare to cross these days. The Director should have sent Ellie or Sarah Thumb instead of me.”

I couldn't remember if I'd ever introduced Mom and Amy to this particular member of the Canon. Judging by the way their eyes bugged out, I guessed not. “Mom, Amy, this is Puss-in-Dress. Puss, this is—”