The Boy with the Hidden Name (3 page)

slowly, “then shouldn’t we be looking for Ben’s mother?”

“Ben’s mother, who up until a few days ago, everyone

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thought was
dead
?” Will retorts scathingly. “I’ve no idea how we would even begin to find her. Only Benedict would know,

and he’s
gone
.”

“Thank you for repeating that as much as possible,” I say,

because it’s not like I don’t already remember every single

minute
that Ben is gone. “What about the guy who was guarding the book? He wasn’t in that society, was he? He didn’t try

to stop us from taking the book, not really. So maybe he’d

help? Maybe…he would have picked up some information

about the book while he was guarding it, or something?” I

feel like I’m flailing. “I mean, I don’t know, but Ben seemed

to think he was important, so…” I trail off, feeling like an

idiot, but Will is looking at me as if I’ve just said the most

interesting thing in the world.

“The Erlking,” he says. “Of course.”

“The what now?” says Kelsey.

“The Erlking. King of the goblins.”

“The goblins,” I echo.

I suddenly have a vague memory from long ago in my past,

a past I’m no longer even sure I lived. Goblins have come up

before in my life, have been referenced by my aunts even, but

there’s one time in particular…“Wait, that’s what Brody was.”

“Who?” asks Will.

I look at Kelsey. “Brody. We went to Salem Willows with

him. Remember? Did we still live that?” The summer I met

Kelsey, when we had a summer job together and went on a

double- date on some boys from school. Hot boys, both of

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them. Except one of them, Brody, the one interested in me,

turned out to be…I can’t seem to remember it clearly now. I

seem to think he’d turned into a monster while I was kissing

him, and then I pushed him into the water, and then…But

the official story was…

“Of course I remember,” Kelsey says. “He died in a shark

attack, Selkie. It was awful.”

That was the official story. He died in a shark attack. But he

didn’t
. “No, he didn’t, Kelsey.” I turn back to Will. “Ben mentioned something about him being a goblin. Something.” I

am trying so hard to remember. How did I not remember all

this before, when Ben was around? “It’s all fuzzy now.”

“Wait,” says Kelsey, and her face is also screwed up in con-

centration. “You might be right. I think…I mean, he wasn’t a

goblin. Wasn’t he a…monster? Was he a monster? But it was

a shark attack.” Kelsey gives up. “I’m confused.”

“Yes,” Will says. “Too many overlapping enchantments.

But it wouldn’t surprise me if you’d had a brush with a goblin

before. They’ve been keeping a close eye on you. You’re just as

valuable to them as you are to the rest of us. They’re really all around, most of the time masquerading as attractive humans.

It’s an ego thing.”

“Brody tried to
kill
me.” At least, I think he did. I wish I could remember the encounter better.

“You probably misinterpreted. You said he looked like

a monster?”

I nod. I’m fairly sure he did. He was hideous and terrifying.

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“Then he was in some distress, as goblins usually have no

problem maintaining their disguises. He was probably asking

you for help.” Will shrugs, as if this is no big deal.

“And then I
killed
him?” I gasp in horror.

“You probably didn’t. Goblins are very difficult to kill, and it wasn’t like you had any special powers. I’m sure he’s fine.” Will continues to look very unconcerned about all of this. “You

can ask the Erlking when we see him. I’m sure he’ll know.”

x

We decide to all go to see the Erlking together, because Boston

isn’t safe anymore. I don’t want my aunts to stay behind,

and they don’t want me to leave without them, and so we

are agreed.

It is Will who says, “What do you wish to do with

Etherington?”

And up until that moment, selfishly, like a terrible daugh-

ter, I had not really thought about my father. It’s not because

I don’t love my dad— because I do— but because I’m not

used to him being involved in stuff. And I’m used to think-

ing of him as being
safe
where he is.

But that was before I learned that Boston is about to turn

into a battleground.

I look at my aunts, who look back at me.

Aunt Virtue says, “We will have to go get him.”

Aunt True pulls out a white handkerchief, heavily

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embroidered because she’s probably been adding embel-

lishments to it for centuries now, and blows her nose, her

eyes weepy.

“How will we get him out?” I ask. I’ve never really thought

about it, but surely we’re not just allowed to walk in and

retrieve our institutionalized family member?

Aunt True looks at me blankly with red- rimmed eyes.

Aunt Virtue draws herself up proudly and intones grandly,

“We are the Stewarts of Beacon Hill. Who would dare to

stop us?”

I decide that maybe they know better than I do about this,

and anyway, it’s nice to have something that someone else is

in charge of.

“Selkie,” Will says to me, “get your sweatshirt.”

I hesitate. I took the sweatshirt off in a fit of anger right

after Ben left me on the Common, because if he was going

to walk away and abandon me, then I wasn’t going to cling

to his gift, even if it
was
supposedly keeping me safe. I don’t know that it will work anymore, that Ben cares enough to be

maintaining the enchantment over it, over
me
, because he
doesn’t
care. He left.

Will walks over and stands next to me stalled at the bottom

of the stairs, looking up toward my bedroom.

“It wasn’t about you, Benedict leaving,” he tells me in a low

voice. “I’ve never seen him so fond of anyone before, and I’ve

known him a very long time, longer than either of us would

care to remember.”

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I look at Will. “I don’t care. I don’t care why he left. I don’t care what he was thinking. I’m not worrying about him anymore.”

Will looks dubious.

I frown. “I
don’t
. I’ll get the sweatshirt if you want me to, but I don’t care.” I shrug to show how much I don’t care then

say, “The only thing I’m worrying about is that my mother

said Ben was going to die. That he was going to betray me

and he was going to die.”

Will shook his head. “She was saying it to get to you, Selkie.”

“He did betray me,” I point out. “I don’t
care
, but I don’t want him to
die
.” I remember how my mother named Ben

when we were trapped in Tir na nOg. Saying his name over

and over with dangerous intent. Causing him pain.

“He’s got a hidden name, Selkie. He’s going to be fine. And if

it really is a prophecy, then all we can do is find a way out of it.”

“Fulfill part of the prophecy without fulfilling all of it?” I

say hollowly.

“Get the sweatshirt,” says Will. “It’s the first step. We need

to keep you as safe as you can possibly be.”

“And you think the sweatshirt is still enchanted to protect

me?” I am not nearly as sure about that.

“Ben liked you more than I’ve ever seen him like anybody,”

Will repeats.

Which shouldn’t mean anything to me, considering he also

left
me. But I can’t help it; it does. So I jog up the stairs.

My sweatshirt is just where I left it, crumpled on the floor.

I take a deep breath and pull it over my head, and then I

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take another deep breath and look around me at my room. I

step onto the landing and peek out of the Palladian window,

choosing one of the lavender panes, letting it tint Boston

Common below into wavy purple. This is my home, and

now it’s a battleground, and somehow I’m the one who is

leading everyone into battle.

Or something.

“Selkie?” Kelsey says behind me hesitantly.

I don’t turn to face her.

“I guess this means we won’t have to take the quiz on

Emerson,” I say, because that was what had been on our

schedule for today, before all this.

“Yeah, that’s at least one good thing to come out of all of

this. We’ve been saved from having to pretend we understood

any of ‘Nature.’”

“You should go home,” I say. “You should go home to your

mom and— ”

“You heard Will. It’s not safe. What good would it do?”

Kelsey comes up to the window and looks out of it with me.

“I called my mom,” she says eventually. “She didn’t pick up.

I left her a message and I told her I loved her. I…didn’t know

what else to do. How can I say to her, ‘Mom, I’m scared the

world’s ending, but don’t worry, Selkie and I are trying to

stop it’?”

“I don’t know how I got us into this,” I say, because I don’t

understand how it all spiraled so quickly to this moment here.

“You were you,” Kelsey replies. “And I always knew you

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were going to be a little bit crazy to be friends with, from the very beginning.”

“You didn’t think it would be this crazy.”

“Maybe I had a suspicion,” says Kelsey.

“Remember when all you had to worry about was

cheerleading?”

“No,” Kelsey answers frankly. “I don’t. That seems like a

lifetime ago. Look, the world might end, right? I want to be

able to brag to my grandkids that I stopped it. So let’s go.”

I lean forward and hug her fiercely and say, “It’s so good to

have you here.”

And Kelsey says, “Right back at you.”

And then we head down the stairs together. Only I get dis-

tracted on the landing, looking at the clock.

Because it’s stopped.

“Selkie?” Will says from the foyer. “Ready?”

“The clock stopped,” I call down to him.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

I look down at him in surprise. “I thought you would know.”

“Why would I know what that means? It isn’t my clock.

But I’m going to assume, based on recent events, that it is

probably another portent of ill to come and we should get

moving and not spend time winding it.”

I am already on my way down the stairs. “Fine,” I say to

him. “I didn’t need a
speech
.”

My aunts are already outside, standing on the front stoop

with Safford. They both look typically anxious, wringing

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their hands, and I don’t blame them. I think of how they had

to go through my entire existence worrying that all of this

was going to happen someday and they were going to lose

me, and it makes total sense to me now, all of the stuff that I

dismissed as craziness on their behalf.

Aunt Virtue closes the door and carefully locks it.

Aunt True lays a hand against it, reverently and adoringly,

sniffling.

“True,” Will says to her, his voice very gentle. “Everything

we’ve been through together, all of us, here, it does not end

like this. Do you hear me?”

Aunt True looks up at him, eyes wide and welling with

tears. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I am not going to stand by and just give them

Boston,” says Will. “I lived on this hill when it was an actual

hill
, before its height was stolen to create new land. I was hanged to death out on that Common for being a witch. I

will not surrender it to the Seelies. Not until one of them

names me, and not a second before.”

“That isn’t going to be necessary,” I say, trying to sound

soothing. “We’re going to take down the Seelie Court.”

My aunts stand side by side, almost identical with their

dark features and dark hair and matching long- sleeved black

blouses and knee- length black skirts and black boots, all neat

and gleaming. And they look at me, their eyes sad, like they’re

worried I’m so delusional that they don’t even know what to

do with me anymore.

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Aunt True takes Will’s arm. “Will,” she begs. “Could you

cast a protective charm? Please?”

He looks down at her. “I can’t promise it would do any

good, True, not now.”

“Please?”

He sighs and glances back at the house. I don’t see anything

happen, but something must, because, after a second, my

aunt relaxes slightly and breathes, “Thank you.”

Will nods once, brusquely, and then we set off down the

Common together.

“So,” says Will as we walk, “the plan is that we retrieve