The Ruens of Fairstone (Aeon of Light Book 2) (17 page)

Pard brings the silver stick close to his face, then points it right toward his eye. “Great, so what does it do?”

“Press the end,” the professor says, “but—”

Pard immediately presses the button and a blinding white light blasts out the tip.

“Best to point it away from your face.”

“
Ah
—shoot that’s bright.” Pard’s right eye flashes white, and he lowers his hand. “I can’t see, it blinded me.”

“It’s all right, your vision will soon return, I promise. I did the same thing the first time with that darn thing.”

Pard blinks with an exaggerated head movement. Shapes slowly reappear. He stares at the light stick then points it at the far wall, presses the button, and a circular spotlight of white shines on the surface.

“It will light up a dark room real nice if you need.”

“How does it work?”

“Marcus never got around to explaining the particulars before he died. And he was real secretive too. I imagine he didn’t tell anyone before he passed.”
 

“So this is one of a kind?”

The professor rocks his head. “Three of a kind to be exact, but close enough.”

“This is a great present, professor, I’m positive I’ll use it a lot.”
Like in the Marlow Tunnel on a midnight Yitch hunt
.

“Enjoy it, Pard, I hope you get a lifetime of use.”

Going forward,
Pard repeats the words to himself. Then images flood Pard’s mind of him alone, wandering the streets in the dark, a wicked wind howling and blowing. He’s huddled over, arms almost crossed, and trudging through knee-deep snow, full pack on back and his shaky light stick in hand. Pard sighs and looks at the professor and forces a smile. “It’s great, professor, thanks a lot, I love it.”

The professor slaps his knee then stands. The old man straitens his grey robe and makes for the door. “You bet, and no worries, son, I know you didn’t do it.”

Pard forces another smile not saying a word.

Bang, bang
—
 

The knocking rattles Pard’s rickety door and the loose, brass doorknob. Pard and the professor both stare startled by the unexpected interruption.

Shoot, Miles.

The professor reaches for the knob.
“
Expecting someone else tonight?”

“
Umm
—”

“Knock, knock,” Miles says in a goofy, playful voice. “Oh, lover lover boy, it’s time too—”

The professor opens the door with a hard pull.

Miles’s face freezes in surprise. “
And—
Professor Videl is here. So good to see you this lovely evening.”

“Lord Marlow.” The professor peeks out the door as if expecting Pard’s room to fill with a hall full of rowdy students at any moment. “Lost, are you?”

Miles looks down the hallway in both directions. “
Umm
—”

“Lost for words, Lord Marlow? Now there’s a first.”

Miles grins. “
Ha ha
, I know,
right
?”

Pard steps next to the door. “He’s here to see me, professor. It’s okay, I’m tutoring him for the advanced mathematics term tomorrow.”

Miles cranes his head out like a goose and gives Pard a dirty look.

Pard shrugs.

The professor nods. “Tutor, huh, great.” The old man limps through the door and past Miles. The professor glances back at him. “Good for you, Lord Marlow, it’s about time. For heavens sakes we all know you need it. Good for you, good for you.” The professor limps away and disappears down the corridor.

Miles lunges into Pard’s room and slams the door shut. He opens his arms. “You told him you’re tutoring me.”

Pard opens his arms back at Miles. “
What
?”

“Why’d you tell him you were tutoring me?”

“Because he isn’t an idiot, and you were about to say something stupid that would’ve gotten you in trouble.”

In deep thought, Miles scratches his cheek. He shrugs. “What’s that you got in your hand?”

“It’s cool, the professor gave it to me. It’s a light stick. Check it out.” Pard points it straight at Miles’s eye. “You watching?”

“Yeah, so what’s it do?”

“This—” Pard presses the button, and a blinding light flashes onto Miles’s face.

Miles cringes and clinches his eyes shut and angles his body away. “Cool, but so not cool.”

“It’s all right. You’ll be able to see in a few seconds.”

“So it makes light?” Miles says, turning back toward Pard.

“Yup, now when we sneak out at night or are in the tunnel we don’t need a torch. Speaking about the tunnel—when are we going for Yitch’s office again? I’m running out of time.”

“How about tomorrow night after our first set of terms?” Miles says. “We have Tuesday off for your you know what.”

Pard nods, armed with his light stick in hand, he gazes at it and smiles. “Tomorrow is good.” Pard tilts his head to the side as Miles’s confusing words hit him. “Tuesday off—since when?”

“Yeah, you didn’t hear?”

“No. What is it?”

“I guess you don’t read the Chronicle.”

“I thought you didn’t read the Chronicle either.”

“Well, times are different now, and I have to keep up on what’s going on. Anyway, Tuesday’s terms were moved to Monday of the following week, and we have off so everyone can attend your trial.”

“
Seriously
? Everyone?”

“Yup, sorry, but you’re big news.”

“Whatever, anyway, when we go for Yitch’s office, we can’t fail this time. I have to find something out before my trial, either to help me, or the truth before I’m banned from the school grounds forever.”

“We got this, don’t worry.” Miles eyes Pard’s clock. “But don’t we have somewhere to be in thirty minutes?”

“Right,” Pard says, and he slides the light stick into his front pocket and stuffs his Ruen book into his new pack. Then with the grace and energy of someone with a one-track purpose, Pard elegantly swings his cloak over his shoulders. “To the library.”

EYES ON THE PRIZE

They make their way through the Fairstone iron gate and onto the road leading away from the school.

“So are you going to ask her to the dance tonight?” Miles says.

“I guess so,” Pard says.

“No victory for the meek. Best ask Selby before someone else asks her.”

Pard’s face drops. “What if someone already asked her?”

Miles slaps Pard on the back. “Don’t worry, no one has asked her yet. I was just saying.”

“But how do you know if no one has asked her?”

“Because guys like me know these things.”

“
What things
?”

“Secret things, the kinds of things that guys like you don’t know.” Miles shakes his head. “Look, keep your eyes on the prize and focus. You’re the Rue reading, light wielding, badass, and not just some other Greysin shlep that hasn’t asked Selby to the dance yet.”

Pard walks slightly sideways while looking at Miles holding his head high and confident.
 

Miles doesn’t look at him, only ahead, fixed on the town’s lights approaching. “No other guy in the world has a chance with Selby other than you, it’s obvious.”

“
It is
?”

“Of course it is. If you weren’t so smart you’d see that.”

Pard purses his lips.

“Focus on teaching her the Rue stuff and act natural and it will all fall into place, I promise you. Hey, I can even sit at the table with you and be your wingman in case you get stuck.”

“Thanks, you’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, what are friends for?”

As they pass through the well-lit, quiet cobblestone streets of Greysin, the click-clack of their boots striking the snow-barren street echo off the quaint plastered-white shop facades lining the road.

Miles continues on about how he knows the secret that Pard doesn’t, even though he doesn’t reveal anything in particular, though Pard still listens, intently waiting for the magical secret to slip from Lord Marlow’s silky tongue. But every now and again, something unsettles Pard. He focuses on Miles and Selby and Ruen, but then a sound, a sound as if another set of footsteps not matching his or Miles’s, or heavy breathing, or a rustle from a branch, makes its presence known behind him well out of sight, but close enough to feel.
 

The library comes into view, illuminated with lanterns that reflect light of the white marble columns and gilded oak doors.

Uneasy, Pard glances behind him again.

“So I said to her—” Miles slaps Pard on the back. “‘The words whisper from your succulent lips like the warm spring breeze through a supple field of wheat;’ I think I read that somewhere; anyway, and then she giggled and gave me the wanting look and then it was all over from there, butter melting in my hands.” Miles laughs for a few seconds, but realizes Pard isn’t paying attention to him. Miles turns around to see what Pard is staring at. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Seems like we’re being followed, or someone is walking on the street with us.”

“Ah, yeah, of course someone is walking on the street, it is a town, smarty.”

“But I’ve been hearing it since we left the iron gate of Fairstone.”

“The wind, I’m sure.” Miles turns back toward the library.

“Maybe.” Pard squints harder, focusing along the facade of the closed boutique shops that sell fancy lace and trinkets only during the summer. A copper light post flickers on and off. It goes almost black, and as Pard is about to turn toward the library, a blazing orange glow catches his eye. Pard extends his neck out, peering into the muted space as his foot hits the first library step.
 

Star sucks in a breath from a cigarette, the glowing ember brightens like the sun then extinguishes, then he flicks the butt into a snow berm and steps backward, slipping into shadow and disappearing.

“So you ready to do this?” Miles says, distracting Pard. “Do you have your mind right?” Miles pulls the handle of the ornate oak door to the library and holds it open.

Pard, a few steps behind Miles, is still staring off at where he saw the star man.

Miles shakes his head and pushes off the door and snatches Pard’s wrist. “No getting the girl if you’re lost in space there.” Miles yanks Pard up the last few steps and nudges him into the library.
 

The front door swings shut, and Pard is still in a daze as the hot air hits him and his eyes adjust to the bright light. The star man, cool and deadly gaze, his one silvery eye peering at him through his monocle, almost as if it can read his thoughts, is fixed on his mind.

Miles spins Pard to face square to him, and he grips both of Pard’s shoulders with his hands. Miles crouches to get to eye level and gently shakes Pard. “Snap out of it and get your eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.” Miles slowly nods in rhythm with each word. “Repeat after me.”

As if hypnotized, Pard nods in unison with Miles.

“Say it—eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize, come on, eyes on the prize.”

Pard mumbles, “eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.”

Miles gently pats Pard with both hands on the side of Pard’s shoulders. “Good.”

“Eyes on the prize,” Pard continues to chant, “eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.”

“Good, now you’re with me.”

“Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.”

“You got this.”

“Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.”

“Pard,” Selby says in a sweet tone, standing a few feet away from Pard.

Pard flinches and faces her.

“Sorry to interrupt you, seemed like you were singing with your friend.” Selby smiles at Miles.

Miles gives Selby an upward flick of his head but doesn’t say a word.

Pard glances away. “Yes, well, we were just, anyway, you want to study?”

“Sure, but aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Right, Selby, this is my friend Miles, and Miles, this is my friend Selby.”

“Nice to meet you, Selby,” Miles says, giving her a slightly seductive look.

“You too.”

“Miles is going to study with us today,” Pard says.

Selby’s eyes widen. “Oh, your friend knows Rue too?”

Pard, seeing how happy she is, he glances at Miles and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “No, he’s a dummy.”

“A bit harsh,” Selby says, taken aback. “He doesn’t look that dumb.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“
Ahem
,” Miles says, “you both realize I’m standing right here and listening to the both of you?”

“Strange thing to say about a friend,” Selby says.

Pard backs down. “I didn’t mean always dummy, just with Rue stuff.”

“Oh.” Selby laughs and smiles at Miles. “That makes the two of us.” Then she pats Pard on his shoulder. “I guess that’s why we have you to teach us. So shall we?” Selby leads Pard and Miles through the library toward their normal spot in the history section.

Miles leans into Pard’s ear and whispers, “Dummy? Really? That was the best thing you could come up with?”

“At the moment, yes. Hey, no making sexy eyes at her. And don’t make her smile or laugh either.”

“But that’s like asking me not to breathe.”

“So don’t breathe.”

“Here we are,” Selby says, and then she sits at the table. “I’ve been practicing the vowels you taught me last time, and I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

“That’s great,” Pard says, and then he sits next to Selby.

Miles unslings his pack and plops down in the chair across from them.

The next few hours pass as Pard tutors Selby, and Miles slumps in his chair and continually stares off at two pretty blonde girls studying a few tables over.

Miles waves at the girls, and the girls giggle and wave back. Miles winks and then nods.

Selby points her pencil between Pard and Miles. “You know, you two seem like an odd pair.”

Miles turns back toward Selby. “You can tell that from where you’re sitting? I haven’t even talked to the girls yet.”

Selby chuckles. “Not the girls,
Miles
.” She again points her pencil back and forth between him and Pard. “You two.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Pard says, “we get that a lot.”

“I bet you do,” Selby says. “Your friend comes to the library to study Rue with us, and he hasn’t even looked at the book or even spoken in an entire hour. All he seems to be interested in are those girls.”