Pale: 2.1 - Lucy

Lucy

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucy admitted.

They’d walked out to Heros, the sub shop at the north end of town.  Their allotted time for lunch wasn’t that much, and the lineups at the various fast food places got long, so they’d had to walk at a good clip.  Now they walked a little more leisurely.  Lucy had finished her sandwich but felt queasy.  Avery had only eaten half, before stuffing the rest in her bag.  Verona had just gotten the smallest size of poutine with chicken, even though the poutine at Heros wasn’t that good.

The conversation on the way had been casual, intermittent, mostly focused on the events of school and the morning, with a pointed avoidance of any mention of practice or Others.  At first, at least for Lucy, it had been because they were surrounded by a mob of students, then in the middle of a line.

Now, on the way back, on a grey sidewalk, by a slope of grass that was grey with gravel and the winter’s run-off from the road, beneath a blue sky that didn’t seem to fit everything else, they had a bit more elbow room.

“I don’t know what to say either,” Avery said, looking back to make sure nobody was in earshot.  “I’ve been feeling so lame, trying to figure out what to say to break the silence.”

Lucy shook her head.  Her hair swung left to right, moving out of sync with the rest of her head.  “It’s not just you.”

“I’ve been thinking about what we need to study next,” Verona said.

“Really?” Lucy asked.  “Really?”

“And about the other stuff,” Verona added, looking over to the side of the road.  “Last night stuff.”

“I would have been seriously worried if you didn’t care about what happened,” Lucy told her friend.  “Seriously.  It’s normal to be freaked out by um, stuff.”

“People dying,” Lucy added, as an addendum.  “And what happened to Gabe.”

“We don’t know for sure what happened to Gabe,” Avery said, quiet.  “It was like a cloud was blocking the sun, and then it moved on, and it took everything crazy with it.  It took Gabe with it, along with the bodies.  It took the others.”

“It’s freaky,” Lucy said, and she tried for a quieter, whispery tone, and only achieved a creaky hitch, like her voice had cracked.  She cleared her throat and stuffed her hands into her sweatshirt pockets.  Nobody drew any attention to it.

“He looked scared,” Avery said.  “He’s not on our phone app, he’s not in our class.  His friends from the younger class were hanging out and playing and laughing, and it’s like they don’t know or care.  What do his parents think happened?  Is he dead?  Does he just die, but not get a tombstone or memories?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy responded.  She had a bit of a lump in her throat.  From the moment she’d broken the silence, she’d known that bringing this stuff up would be hard.  “All I know is that he’s an idiot.”

“I think we’re the only people who remember him being in our class,” Avery said.  “If we’re the ones keeping his memory, I don’t want that memory to be just that he’s an idiot.  That’s callous.”

“Maybe I’m a bit callous, hm?” Lucy asked.  Her throat was tight.  “Look, he messed up right at the finish line-”

“If I’d been faster-”

“You were plenty fast,” Verona added.  She’d fallen quiet during the last exchange.

Avery had walked a bit ahead, agitated and focused on what was going on in her head, rather than keeping pace with the group.  She turned around, walking backwards.  “But if I’d gotten the meat I was holding to him, or given him the chunk before going to the woman on the ground, he could have made it.  If he just held onto it and didn’t eat it.”

“And if you delayed,” Lucy said, “The woman on the ground might not have made it.  Or other small things might have gone wrong.  The bull might have hit you and then you would be hurt or dead.  Don’t blame yourself.”

“No,” Lucy said, her voice harder.  “Stop.”

When Avery’s expression changed into something that might have been offense, might have been her on the verge of tears, Lucy took a quick step forward, grabbing Avery by the shoulder.  The two of them stopped.  She cast a quick glance back.  The nearest students behind them were about six boys from a year younger, who wouldn’t be close enough to hear much.

“You did so well,” Lucy said, her eyes locked to Avery’s.  When Avery looked down and away, Lucy jabbed Avery’s chin with the thumb of the hand on her shoulder to get her to look back up.  “You were the one who jumped up to help first.  And I’m on board.  I’m glad we did.”

“Yep,” Verona said, off to the side.  “Me too.”

“For that key minute there, you were the bravest and coolest I’ve ever seen anyone be,” Lucy said.  “You don’t get to be that awesome and then blame yourself, because if you do, I’m going to feel worse.”

The boys from behind them had caught up.  Lucy could hear them chattering.  Lucy and Avery moved to the side to let the herd by.

“Why would you feel worse?” Avery asked.

“Because I hung back.  You were in the middle of it and you did more.”

“It’s like a hockey game,” Avery said.  “You can only really go for it if you can trust your team to be where they’re supposed to be, doing what they’re supposed to be doing.  We agreed on roles, in case it got messy.”

“I know, but you were doing more.  If you’re doing twice as much as me and still kicking yourself for not doing enough, then what am I supposed to do?”

Again, that little bit of emotion.  She cleared her throat again.

Avery pulled her shoulder free of Lucy’s hand.  “So I’m not allowed to feel bad?”

“Feel how you want to feel.  But if you’re going to kick yourself, get twice as mad at me, first.”

Verona stepped closer, almost losing her balance, because she’d stopped abruptly and they were walking on a slight slope.  “And five times as mad at me.  I didn’t do much more than crouch there interrogating the lady.  I used the one card.  I would have used another but I didn’t want to set you on fire while trying to get those kids off you.”

“Thank you for not setting me on fire, you’re fine,” Avery said, to Verona.  To Lucy, she said, “I’m not mad at you.  Either of you.  I’m not going to blame you, I’m not going to get mad.”

“Then don’t blame yourself, either.”

“I’m not going to not blame myself!” Avery raised her voice.  She blinked a few times in quick succession. She took a deep breath.

Lucy opened her mouth to say something, but Avery threw up a hand, fast enough Lucy thought she was about to get slapped.  It was just a sign to stop.  Avery huffed.

Lucy stopped, waiting and watching while Avery took another breath, steadying herself.

Avery’s voice was overly level, her words measured out.  “Look, I don’t like getting mad.  I get disappointed and hurt, maybe, when someone’s got a job and they don’t do it, like a teacher not caring enough to be a good teacher, or a person on my team who stops trying or quits on us.  But there aren’t levers you can pull to change other people or other people’s feelings.  It’s hard enough to change ourselves and our own feelings, and sometimes it’s not even possible.  I’d rather focus on being better and doing better.”

“Okay,’ Lucy said.  She took in a breath, measured, like Avery had done.  Avery’s hand was still up there, in that ‘stop’ gesture.  Lucy reached up to Avery’s wrist and pushed the hand down.

“I just want to say one thing before we drop this,” Lucy told her.  “I used to be a lot like you.”

“Kinda,” Verona chimed in.  “Until Lucy was like, ten.”

“If feels like you’re calling me a kid.”

Lucy shook her head.  “No.  Listen, people would do crappy things and be crappy to me, and to people I care about, and my first thought would be, what did I do wrong?  What should I have done?  What did I do to deserve this?”

“Sure,” Avery said, her voice terse.

“I was so confused sometimes.  What, what, what?  Why, why?” Lucy’s voice felt hollow, too airy.  “There were so many times people were awful or things went wrong, and I never learned the reasons why.  Was it because I was a girl?  Was it the look on my face?  Was it the color of my skin?  Did I not have the right friends?  Was I not strong enough?  And I had to wrestle with it.  I’d… I don’t even know how to put it.  I’d go easy on them while giving myself the hardest time on all of those things, like they were all true and all my fault.  I gave them the benefit of a doubt, and I wore that blame.  Until I hit the point where I had to change up how I looked at it or I would have lost it.  Okay?”

Most of the kids were coming from the Burger Bin, filing down the sidewalk on the other side of the street.  Others were on bikes.  The students who were around them now looked like they were the last of the stragglers.

There was a good chance they were going to be late to class.  Maybe if they ran, but…

Lucy went on, “Sometimes life sucks, Ave.  Sometimes people or situations… or fucking singing rituals… are ugly.  Too ugly to think about for too long.  You say there aren’t any levers to pull or anything to change them, but… no.  Not in literal reality but you can get angry, you can make them change.  You should deal with them, or make life harder for them, so they’re a little weaker or more hesitant the next time they want to ruin someone’s day.”

“I’m not sure I like the implication,” Avery said.  “Like I’m some baby version of you and I’m supposed to grow up to be you.  I think you’re great, but I don’t want to become you, not like that.”

Frustration welled in Lucy, with just a bit of hurt.  That wasn’t what she was trying…

She let it go.  Deep breath.  She clenched her fists in her sweatshirt pockets.  “Sorry.  That wasn’t what I was trying to say.”

“If I need to feel bad about what happened, can’t you just let me?”

“I just… I don’t want to let you, any more than I want the me of back then to feel bad when she shouldn’t.  That doesn’t mean I think you’re a baby.  You might be the coolest person I know.  You’re kind, you’re brave.  I said that before.  But I admire you.  I’m glad to count you among my best friends.”

“Seconded,” Verona said.

Avery’s eyes were moist.  She still looked upset, and some of that was aimed at Lucy.  “Thanks.  But-”

“But!” Lucy interrupted.  “Feel what you need to feel.  Deal how you need to deal.  If you need anything, I’m here.  We’re here.  We’ll try to help.”

Avery seemed to waver, like there was more she wanted to say.  Then she nodded.  “Alright.  Thanks.”

Lucy swallowed hard and nodded.

“We should get walking again,” Verona said.

The last of the kids who had gone to the stores for lunch had already passed them.

The mood was a bit uncomfortable.  Lucy felt like starting up the discussion again, trying to smooth over wrinkles and clarify misunderstandings, but she felt like it would make things worse.

“You’ve been pretty quiet, Ronnie,” she said.

“Processing.  Digesting.”

Verona stared off into the distance.  “The same ideas keep running through my head, like if I think the same thought enough times maybe I’ll get desensitized to it and it won’t be as hard to deal with.  Mostly all it’s doing is giving me this lump in my throat that’s been there since last night, and I feel like I don’t have any patience for school.”

“We can’t not go.  We’ll get in trouble.”

“I know.  It’s just… I dunno.  I’d get into it more, but I don’t like dwelling on stuff or dumping on you guys.  It’s more helpful to hear you two debate it.  Kinda feel bad, hearing you guys talk about who did how much, and I didn’t do much.”

“You got info?” Lucy asked.

“I did.  I couldn’t record it on my phone, but I took notes.”

“It’s why we were there.  It’s good,” Lucy said.  “Don’t feel bad.  If it gives us the answers we need, it might end up being the most important contribution.”

“Okay.  That makes me feel better.”

“That flash of light was you?” Avery asked.  “Back when I was near the bull?”

“It helped a lot.  There was a heart-stopping moment where I thought I’d get the horns.”

“Good,” Verona said.  “I’m glad.”

Lucy had the sense that Avery might have liked to talk more or hear more in response from Verona, but didn’t really know Verona.  This was pretty usual, and it was kind of comforting.  It had taken her a little while to figure out that Verona was someone who dwelt on things.  Just because she was quiet didn’t mean she didn’t care, or that she wasn’t going through a tough time.

The flip side of that, though, was that Verona could sit with something for a while and then come right out of left field with a surprise hug… or shutting down, or doing something dumb.

It had been a while since the last time, Lucy realized.  When?

The last dumb was after her parents’ divorce.  Verona had tried to set fire to a family album.

The last shutdown was… march break last year?

March Break.  Verona’s mom had taken her to Vancouver to see distant family over the break.  Lucy had gone over a few days after her friend was back, and arrived to find one of Verona’s shelves of art supplies and finished art pieces on the floor.  Clay models and stuff broken, cast down in way that made it look like they’d been swept from the shelf in a single motion.

Apparently, and she hadn’t wanted to poke too hard or ask, Mr. Hayward’s birthday was mid-March, and she’d come back toward the last third of the month.  Verona had lost track of the days and hadn’t called or anything on the day of, and hadn’t come back with a present.  Mr. Hayward had taken it badly, the same night Verona had gotten back.

In the end, that day she’d stopped waiting for Verona to call, had called herself and gone over, it had been lying there for three days.  Verona had salvaged the things that hadn’t broken, torn, or been stained by ink or paint, and left even the things that were barely affected or damaged.  Then for three days, she had walked on or kicked around the bits that weren’t, including sharp bits of clay.  To make a point, or because she couldn’t bear to throw it out or put it back in a place she could look at it.  Lucy wasn’t sure, and Verona’s head was a puzzle sometimes.

Mr. Hayward had been in the middle of giving Verona the third day of silent treatment, Verona was apparently waiting for him to apologize, and the tension was thick in the air.  So Lucy had had Verona over for a straight week.  Her mom had managed to get the basics of what had happened out of Verona, and had talked to Verona’s dad.

She’d thought things would be okay after that, had gone with Verona back to her dad’s house, and the mess had still been there.  In the end, Lucy had been the one who knelt down to pick up the pieces and clean it up, while Verona sorted out her laundry.  Mr. Hayward had looked in while she was dumping stuff into a trash can, and he’d just commented, ‘She can buy art supplies for herself, but she can’t buy a gift.’

It was, to the best of Lucy’s knowledge, the worst he’d done or been.  She had told Verona to call her right away if there was ever anything like that again, and Verona had promised to.  They hadn’t been forbidden from lying when that promise was made, but she did feel like Verona would keep that promise.  She was also pretty sure that Verona’s dad hadn’t apologized or brought it up since.  Verona would have mentioned it if he had.

Verona hadn’t picked up art or done arty stuff since then, unless it was for school, a side project, or the stuff they were doing with the practice now, like the watercolor pictures she was doing of the local suspects.

This… this Verona felt like she was maybe three-quarters of the way to being where she was then, in that week she’d stayed with Lucy last year.  Like she was lost in thought, quiet, and staring off into the distance a lot.  Lucy didn’t know if she should be relieved that Verona wasn’t worse, considering what they’d seen last night, or worried that Verona wasn’t worse, considering what they’d seen last night.

“Want to stay over?” she asked.

Verona looked over at her and nodded.

“Asking the both of you,” she said.

“Is that okay?” Avery asked.

“I’ve got a cot in my room.  Verona can sleep in my bed, right?”

“I’ll have to ask my parents,” Avery said.  “It’s a school night.”

“We could beg and plead again,” Verona said.  She had a slight smile.

“I think that only works once,” Avery said.

Lucy was glad Avery didn’t seem as bothered as earlier.  Maybe Avery needed time like Verona did.

They made their way to the school, walking quicker as they got along.  Once they reached the main doors, Lucy hesitated.  At the edge of the parking lot, two teenagers were kissing.

Lucy had her suspicion, as the car was different, but… she used her sight.  The world was cast into sharp contrast, swords and daggers found their homes, embedding in various surfaces, and watercolor stains in blacks, dark browns, greys and reds bled out. Sure enough, the girl in that couple had multiple knives sticking through her, and more swords through her bag, her stuff in the trunk… yeah.

“That’s something that gets to me,” Avery said.  “When my mom has a bad day, my dad runs a bath for her, and fields Declan and Kerry, while telling us older kids to stay out of the way.  He pampers her, they talk, they snuggle.  When you’re a little kid, you can crawl into bed with mom and dad.  But what are we supposed to do?”

Verona hugged Avery from behind.

“That’s just not the same.”

Lucy looked over, and tapped her finger to her lower eyelid.

Verona’s eyes turned purple in a way that caught the light.  Avery’s eyes got misty, literally, in a way that brought out details, rather than hid them.  They looked.

“I’m going to go.  You don’t have to come,” Lucy said.

It was, it turned out, pretty hard to approach.  The couple were making out.  She settled for a seat in the grass by the parking lot, a bit out of sight, her back turned so she was facing three-quarters the other way.

Avery and Verona remained by the door, Verona hugging Avery from behind.

The couple parted ways.  Lucy stood up as the guy jogged over to the side door of the school.

“You,” the teenager with the sunglasses said, as she saw Lucy.  “Peeping?”

“We’ve been trying to follow what’s going on.”

The teenager moved stuff from the back seat into the trunk, using her good hand.  Her movements were more of a limp than they had been two days ago.  “I don’t suppose you know a certain fox, deer and… what was it, cat?”

“What’s that all about?”

“Do you really want to know?” Lucy asked.  “With everything else on your plate?”

“I don’t think so.  Answering our questions might,” Lucy said.

The teenager sighed, walking around to the back.  It looked like she’d bought a lot of stuff.

“Collins had his problems, but he was a nice guy,” the teenager said.  She opened a case of something in the trunk and took two soda cans out, before slamming the door.

“Old school tattoos on his arms?”  She limped on her way to the front seat, leaning over to get inside and put them in the drink holder.

“Yeah.  I remember.  I’m sorry,” Lucy said.

“Second friend I’ve lost.  Every couple of years, it seemed like he’d get a new, life-changing allergy.  Couldn’t eat a crumb of gluten or he’d end up in the hospital or in the bathroom all night, couldn’t eat certain citrus or strawberries, couldn’t eat sugar, couldn’t eat artificial sweeteners.  MSG, eggs, alcohol, I can’t even remember the whole list.  In and out of the hospital so many times he looks like a junkie from the IV insertions.  His body would throw a dart at a dartboard and all of a sudden he’d be having full-blown immune system responses to foods he’d been fine eating for years.  He said if he didn’t do the ritual, he’d eat the wrong thing and die in a few years anyway.”

“But at least he’d be remembered,” Lucy said.

The girl with the sunglasses shrugged.

“Gabe was our classmate.  He disappeared,” Lucy said, looking toward the school.

Behind Lucy, Avery and Verona walked up.

“Mm.  I thought New Kid had it in him to get at least a few rounds in.  The bull was… a good six out of ten on the scale of what you can draw, I think.”

“What’s worse?” Lucy asked.

“I’ve heard about a flock of pheasants inside a barn, with doors closed.  One flew into the one lightbulb in the barn when they were halfway through the song.  For me, first one was a stag.  Third was mice, fourth was a trio of dogs, covered in pustules, foaming at the mouth.  We think how well you sing helps with how the table is set, and we didn’t have good singers that night.  Waifs bit off part of this one guy’s jaw.”

“You skipped the second night,” Avery observed.  She looked nervous.

“A friend of mine,” the girl with the sunglasses said.  “Smart.  Strong.  Clever as dammit.  People on their eighth night get a different song, different rules, letting them bring certain things, and a head start.  The rest of us got a slight alteration.  Instructions to sing until dawn, and… it’s not worth getting into.”

Lucy inhaled, exhaled.  “What happened?”

“I gave him my eye.  No fight.  We thought he needed one eye from one person, meat on the bone from another, a- we were wrong.  When he realized the real requirements, he gave up.”

“You gave him your eye?” Avery asked, horrified.

“I’ve been blind in my left eye since birth,” the teenager said, her voice soft and sad.  “It felt like it was meant to be.  He was like a brother to me.  Got me into the devouring song game, when we thought it was easier than it was.  I wanted my parents to not have to worry about feeding my little brother and I, and this prescription I need to stay level isn’t covered by healthcare after I turn eighteen.  It’s not super expensive, but… when your family is deciding whether to eat or pay the power bill every month, fifty bucks a month is a lot.”

“Damn,” Verona said.  “Fifty bucks every month?  Rough.”

“You could have sold your car, maybe?” Lucy asked.

“Don’t have one.  This is my boyfriend’s,” the teenager said.  “He lent it to me.  I’m just here saying bye to him, then heading to the next arena.  Auld Kirk Scotch.  It’s easier if we go, instead of making them come get us.”

“I want to help,” Avery said.  “I think we want to help?”

“You may have already helped us lots,” the teenager said.  “The girl without feet is on her eighth night.  I don’t know how that’s supposed to go, when she can’t run.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking of,” Avery said.

“What are you thinking of, then?  Huh?  Are you going to head over there?  Can you drive?” the teenager asked.  “Because it’s a little over eleven hours of driving to get from here to there.  And what are you going to do when you get there?  Are you going to help her, or help us?”

“I don’t know. Can’t we help both?  Or try to unravel it, or… something?”

“If she wins, I can’t,” the teenager said.  “So no, you can’t help both.  Unraveling it?  I don’t even know what you’d do there.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything to do there that we couldn’t do here, Avery,” Lucy said.

The teenager slammed her car door, limping around the front to the driver’s side.  “I can’t do this.  I’ve got an eleven hour drive ahead of me, and I want to cover as much ground as I can while it’s light out.  Maybe it’s better if you just stay out of it.  If we’re lucky, it’ll end on its own.”

“I don’t think it will,” Verona said.

“Then… I don’t know,” the teenager said.

“Can we get your number?” Lucy asked.  “If you think of anything.  Things we could follow up on, weirdness…”

“Weirdness that isn’t three kids with animal’s faces showing up in the middle of a ritual?” the teenager asked.

“Yeah,” Lucy said.  “Can’t hurt, can it?”

The teenager, standing by her open door, nodded.  She didn’t come to Lucy, but pulled out her phone as Lucy approached.  They exchanged numbers.

“I’ll send you some links,” the teenager said.  “Sites where we compiled what we know.  Some people were going over site code and trying to track down recurring images in the flyers and on the site.”

“Thanks… Reagan,” Lucy said, reading the name that was attached to the number.

“You’re welcome, Lucille.  Save the links I send you somewhere good, in case you want to go back to them.  Depending on how Friday night goes, there’s a slim chance I won’t be in your contact list anymore, and the message history might be gone.”

“Good tip,” Lucy said.

“Don’t wish me luck back, but… good luck.”

The teenager climbed into her boyfriend’s car, and started it up.

“We’re so late for class,” Avery said.

“Yeah,” Lucy said, turning away.  The three of them headed for the doors.

“We might get banned from going out for lunch.”

“Last semester, after two kids took too long to come back after lunch, they talked about banning everyone.”

“I think that was to scare them,” Verona said.

“Probably, but a good share of the school were giving them stink-eyes for a while after,” Avery said, as she opened the door.  “Social death.”

“You could’ve just let me handle it,” Lucy said.  “I would’ve recapped.”

“Not feeling so hot.  Can’t see myself with my Sight, so can you do me a favor and check me with the Sight, before we get up there?”

Lucy looked over Verona.  There was a cloud of dark watercolor that grew at her head and flowed through her hair, becoming an almost total darkness at the outermost edges of that hair.  Another bubbling darkness swamp through the stomach area of her grey sweatshirt.

“Stomachache… headache?” Lucy asked.

“Yes and yes.  Am I cursed?  Did interfering last night mess us up?”

Lucy blinked a couple of times.

“I think that’s just you, Ronnie.  Not a curse.  That’s just my guess.”

For Avery, there was a red-black darkness at one side of her stomach, and a pink-red blotting around her shoulders.

“Are you going to be okay?” Lucy asked Verona, keeping one eye on Avery.

“I think it’s stress and fatigue.  Let me know if I can help.”

“Distract me.  Or help me figure it out.”

“Okay,” Lucy said.  “Figuring it out sounds like a good game plan.”

They finished climbing the stairs, and walked to the classroom.

Ms. Hardy saw them in the doorway, and held up a finger, telling them to wait, while talking to a student.

They loitered, watching and waiting.  Students had pulled desks around to groups of six.

Lucy noted Gabe’s empty seat, not moved or anything.  Just… there.

She wished she’d been able to pep-talk Verona and Avery a bit more.  She wished she could dwell more on the problem.  Sitting through class was going to be hell.

Ms. Hardy approached them, closing the door behind her.  She wasn’t tall, but she had broad shoulders and broad hips.  In her efforts to be charitable to Avery, Lucy supposed Ms. Hardy was heavy but didn’t have a real gut, and instead had the kind of frame and distribution of weight that made her mostly just… big.  Their teacher’s hair was buzzed short on the sides and back, and was in glossy, blue-highlighted curls at the top, draping down to graze one eyebrow.  She liked colorful clothes, with today’s being electric blue slacks, a simple white top, and a colorful, mostly-blue see-through top worn over the white one, left unbuttoned except for the bottom corners, which were knotted near her belly button.  She had a tattoo at her wrist, a circle partially covered by bangles, one at her bicep, really severe red lipstick, and eyeliner that slashed out to either side, with perpetually half-lidded eyes, like she was a bit bored and disdainful of everything.

Try as she might, Lucy couldn’t see what Avery found so appealing.  Maybe that Ms. Hardy paid a lot of attention to her hair, clothes, and makeup, she was a young teacher at… maybe twenty-five to thirty five.  But… nope.  Anything past that point was a guess.

Avery fidgeted, as Mrs. Hardy loomed before them.  Lucy wasn’t even looking straight at Avery, and she could tell her friend’s face was turning pink.

“Verona isn’t feeling well,” Lucy said.

“I saw you in the parking lot,” Mrs. Hardy said.  She looked over each of them, stern.  Avery withered, looking more ready to die than Verona, who might’ve been a bit green around the gills.

“Something messed up happened last night,” Verona said.

Lucy gave her friend a sidelong look.  How was Verona supposed to spin that, without lying?

“Explain that for me, please?” Mrs. Hardy said.

“We were out in the general direction of Swanson,” Verona said.  “We think we saw some people die.”

Ms. Hardy raised her eyebrows.

Direction of Swanson?  Lucy thought, wondering how that was the truth.

Or… well, she supposed Swanson was north.

“There were cars around, we didn’t get a chance to see what really happened before we went a different way, and nobody really gave us any straight answers.  But… pretty sure they’re gone.  It looked really grisly.”

Avery winced at that phrasing, but didn’t say anything.

As Verona had admitted that, she’d looked a little greener around the gills.  To Lucy’s sight, the blot was darkening, getting more concentrated.

“The teenager from the parking lot was there,” Lucy said.  “She said it was a friend of hers.  Verona might be feeling queasy because it’s… a lot.”

“You should go to the nurse’s office.”

“I was thinking about it,” Verona said.  “But if I go and they make me lie down until my dad comes, I’ll just be thinking about stuff.  I’d rather distract myself.”

“Or the guidance counselor’s office?  Mr. Cohn can talk you through it and refer you if you need it.”

“I don’t know about Lucy and Ave, but I’m not so keen on talking about it more, after talking about it all through lunch,” Verona said.

“Yeah,” Lucy said.  “I don’t know what I’d say.”

“I’d rather not get into it.  We might be talking to someone tonight, depending on what our parents say,” Verona said.

Ms. Hardy sighed.  Her bangles jangled as she folded her arms.  “Can I trust you?  You’ve told fibs to get out of schoolwork or get out of trouble before, Verona.”

“Ms. Hardy,” Avery said.  She fidgeted more, plucking at the bottom edge of her shirt.  “I love your class.  I wouldn’t miss it or be late if I could help it.  What she said is true.”

The door opened.  Brayden was there.

“Can I go to the washroom?” Brayden asked.

“Go,” Ms. Hardy said.  He jogged down the hall.  “And walk!”

“Ms. Hardy?” Melissa called from one corner of the class.  “We had a question.”

“One second,” Ms. Hardy said, before closing the door.  She sighed, before looking at each of them in turn.  “We’re doing the fake nations project in groups.  Are you able to contribute?”

“The groups already drew their cards, for size, politics, GDP, natural resources, neighbors, and everything else from the pamphlet I gave out yesterday.  Today’s class project is to find nations similar to the one your group got.  The nines have some additional requirements.  Use the stacks of textbooks on the desks, trade with other groups if you need to.  Each person has to write a paragraph about one of the similar nations and what you might expect in the next few weeks of the project.”

She opened the door, letting them into the class.  “Verona, Lucy, join Melissa’s group.  Avery, join Xavier’s.  Take the spare desk.”

Avery stopped in her tracks, then resumed moving, her head a little lower, face not clearly visible with the angle she was traveling, before she took Gabriel’s old desk and dragged it over.

Lucy took a seat by Melissa, opposite George.  Verona took a seat off to her left, putting her bag down and pulling out a pile of papers and narrow notebooks.

“We’re Cocoatoa,” Melissa said.  “Because of our main export.”

“Makes sense,” Lucy said, as she got herself sorted, her attention divided between the materials spread across the desk, Verona, who was holding papers with partial spell diagrams on them, and Avery, who looked pretty depressed.  The pink-red of the watercolor at her shoulders was bright red, now.

Verona laid down papers, each with the partial diagram.  Lucy recognized the interlinked diamonds of the connection symbol, the blockers, the labels.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m-” Verona started talking, at the same time George said.  “We’re going through textbooks-”

“Trying to find similar nations?” Lucy finished.  George smiled and nodded, before handing over two unused textbooks.

“Making sure Ms. Hardy doesn’t check in with our parents,” Verona said, once the dialogue was done, scribbling on paper.

“Hmm,” Lucy made a sound.  She grabbed the papers and slid them over to be in front of her.  “Don’t mess things up for Avery.  Ms. Hardy’s helped her out lots.”

Lucy passed the connection breaker back to Verona.  Melissa and George hadn’t even looked up.

She didn’t disapprove.  Verona liked being distracted, and from the looks of it, the act of refocusing were helping to clear away that headache and stomachache.

She’d do her part and alleviate the load, focusing on her current task, searching through the books, and do Verona’s part for the group for Cocoatoa.

She couldn’t do the same for Avery.

The temperature was perfect, the windows open and blowing in a breeze that was on the cold side of cool.  The sky was blue outside, and the loudest sound in the school library was a whisper or a bag being unzipped.

The computers in the school library were in cubicles, each cubicle next to another.  Verona sat at one, Avery at another, and Lucy in between, writing in a notebook as they came across stuff.

They’d searched the site that Reagan had sent them, with guides and tips for memorization, which included easy words to miss, or repeated phrases with slight differences in words.  There were the descriptions of the people with mouths for faces, who didn’t interfere, but also played a role in keeping bystanders from interfering.

There wasn’t a lot that simply watching hadn’t told them.

Verona was looking up famines and hunger in Ontario, especially Kennet.  Not much, but eleven point nine percent of households, apparently, had problems with being able to eat regularly, to the point it caused physical, mental, or social problems.  She’d wondered who would be stupid enough to do this stuff, but that was a big number.  There were people like whatshisname with the tattoos…

Verona highlighted a bit and nudged Lucy.  In some places in the US, the number rose to thirty percent.

Not really relevant though, but interesting.

Avery was trying search terms with music, singing, hunger, and starvation, plus Ontario.

These things could be done by practitioners or by Incarnations.  Was there actual concentrated Hunger in the shape of a person, or Singing in the shape of a person, assuming that was how that worked?  If there was, then maybe there was one location or one event in Ontario where they were there, and they made stuff weird or affected a whole area with more singing or more problems with access to food.

Lucy noted down some questions about incarnations.  Who would be the person to ask about that?

Finding out where it came from seemed like a good way to figure out how to end it.

It still felt aimless, like they needed another piece of the puzzle.

Miss had said there were threads.  That the Incarnation could make roots in this world by leaving information trails.  They hadn’t really found any.

Just that the locations were ghost towns in Ontario… and Kennet.  There was no clarification or illumination on why Kennet was included.

“Nephton’s one of the locations on the flyer?” Avery whispered.

Verona pulled the flier out and tapped her finger on one of the locations, overlapped with the moon phase.

“Coal town,” Avery whispered.  “Became a ghost town after the coal ran out, people must have gone hungry.”

“Bit of a reach,” Lucy said.  “I think that’s ninety percent of any of these ghost towns.”

“I’m going to print it anyway,” Avery said.  “The article has names.  Maybe one person’s tied to more than one or something.”

“Sure.  Remember that we only get a certain number of printouts per year.”

Avery got out her library card, and began typing in the number.

“Balls Falls,” Verona said, to Lucy.  “Ghost town.”

“I don’t think the Hungry Choir went to Balls Falls.”

“Maybe someone hungry named it.  Hungry for balls?”

“Horncastle.  Sodom.  Happy Valley…” Verona grinned.

“Okay, okay,” Lucy said.  “Ha ha.”

A bit of color in her right eye made her turn her head.

“Avery!”  She swiped at the keyboard, shoving it into Avery’s mouse hand.  The keyboard and mouse clattered off the edge of the drawer beneath the cubicle.  Avery went from looking at Verona’s screen to almost falling out of her chair.

Avery looked up at Lucy, wounded, holding her thumb where Lucy had rammed it with the keyboard, then looked at the screen.  The wounded look became horror.

Her email address and library card number and the boxes for those things were on the screen, plain as anything.

But the background was a dull grey-pink.  The lyrics to the song were scattered around the page, along with images, half of them broken or distorted.

It had changed to the site in the moment Avery had finished typing and gone to click, not quite looking.

“Excuse me, girls?” the school librarian spoke up, as he approached, hands on his hips, looking mock-stern.  Except the guy was actually-stern… just used to dealing with kids.  The expression changed more when he saw the dangling keyboard and mouse.

The site had gone back to the library page.

They were kicked out, gathering up their stuff and abandoning the research.  Avery was careful to backspace her name out of the field, just in case, before they fled, leaving the school and heading directly away, into fields and toward trees.

Avery was visibly shaking.

“Good save,” Verona said.

“I guess… we have to be careful,” Lucy said.  Her heart was pounding, even though it had been maybe five minutes.

“They can’t do that, can they?” Avery asked, her eyes wide.  Her hand rubbed her thumb, which looked red.

“They tried,” Verona said.  “If Avery technically…”

Lucy pulled the chain that had once had the dog tag on it from her neck.  The ring hung from it.  She slipped it on, the chain dangling.

The first children appeared.  Three, from nearby trees and crawling from clumps of grass.

A girl, black haired, grinding her teeth.  She wore a black sweater and pleated skirt.

A boy, with hair buzzed short, wide eyes, wearing cargo shorts and a torn t-shirt with a frowny-face on it, with temporary tattoos all over his arms and parts of his chest.

And… Gabe.  Or a version of Gabe.

He was shirtless, so skinny his chest looked concave.  His hair was messy, taller on one side than the other, and he wore roller blading stuff, without the roller blades, his pants on the cusp of falling down.  His mouth was ajar, his face smeared with vomit.  His stare was wide-eyed and vacant.

Avery made a small sound.

“Get out of here!” Lucy raised her voice.  “Go on!”

Her voice rang out over the field around them.  It seemed to terminate sooner than it should, with the music coming from the distance.

“You don’t get to do that!” she shouted, more intense, angrier.  “You don’t get to guilt us!  You made your damn choice!”

“Don’t you dare mess with us or try that again!  I promise you, you’re not in our good books right now, but if you push us, we will make it our job to destroy you before you can get us!  The deal we made when awakening lets us!”

The little girl with the black hair ground her teeth, then turned, scampering off with too much speed and agility to be natural.  The others followed.

“What you said before, about slowing others down or hurting them, so they can’t hurt others?” Avery asked.

“Oh yeah,” Lucy said.  Her heart was pounding and she was a bit out of breath from the shouting.  “Oh, for sure yeah.”

“Yeah,” Verona said, quiet.

“We stop them even if they don’t push us further, right?” Avery asked.

“We damn well try,” Lucy said.  “Just gotta figure out how.”

“I might have an idea,” Verona said.  “But it’s not a great idea.  It’s dangerous in its own way.”

Lucy looked at her friend.

“Before I got to my house, I called Miss and asked her about things we could do.”

“You talking a lot to Miss on your own?” Lucy asked.

“Some,” Verona said.  “Why?”

“If we want an education in loopholes, cheating at games, tricks, and that sort of stuff… maybe we should talk to the Faerie.”