Pale: 8.2 - Verona

Vanishing Points – 8.2 | Pale
“I’m not going to eat it.  No way, no how.”

“We all know you can eat it, Snowdrop,” Lucy said.

It looked amazing.  Set outside the door to their dorm room was a little cart, and the food was laid out on that cart, each dish covered.

An arrangement of vegetarian sushi, including avocado rolls, cucumber rolls, fried rice rolls, and what looked like some brawny string beans dusted with salt and beads of moisture.

Chicken nuggets that didn’t look like they came from a fast food place, dusted with herbs and what might have been finely chopped chives, set on one side of a plate that had a trio of dipping bowls.  Assorted chopped vegetables sat on the other side, half of each one deep fried, while leaving the other half crisp as a handle.

A mini-bowl of what looked like grilled shrimp cooked with a thick noodles and a creamy sauce.  Vegetables were arranged at the edge like a flower blossom, and the creamy sauce was just thick enough that they didn’t sink or drift.

Verona dragged the plate with the nuggets closer to her, then picked up a nugget, giving it a scrutinizing look.  “It’s… at least it’s not talkative.”

“Ronnie,” Lucy said, glancing over her shoulder.  A few doors down, some other students were also leaving class, getting ready to order their lunches.  Watching, Verona noted.

“No, uh, tweed in evidence.”

“Don’t be gross,” Avery said, wincing.  “I had a Wolf nightmare and I’m really not up for it.”

Verona tore the nugget in half, looking, then set it down, using a napkin to clean her fingers of breaded crumbs.

Lucy poked at the shrimp pasta dish with an obsidian chopstick.  “We skipped breakfast, we should eat.  Keep energy up.”

“Yeah,” Avery agreed.

At a poke from Lucy’s chopstick, a bit of shrimp sank into the creamy pasta.  A bubble rose and swelled without popping.

“Aaaaaieee,” Verona kept her voice very quiet, picking up a skewer and bringing it close to the bubble.  “Before I pop, call me mister bubble, esquire.”

Avery punched her in the arm with surprising speed and force.

“Ow- frigging ow!  That was hard!”

“Don’t be shitty,” Avery said.

Verona rubbed her upper arm.

“Friggin’- you shouldn’t hit people, Ave,” Verona grumbled.

“I have too many siblings to be nonviolent,” Avery said.

Verona glanced at Lucy, looking for help, and saw only a serious, thoughtful expression.

Lucy’s eyes flashed, irises turning white, the whites turning red.

“What do you think?” Verona asked.  She used her own Sight.  The dishes took on a weird uniformity, all white with red things struggling in them.

“It’s technically safe to eat.  No sign of anything weird.”

“Yeah,” Avery agreed.  She wasn’t using the Sight, she was just acknowledging Lucy.

Lucy didn’t look away from it.  “We really do need to eat.  Feed the Self.  This would be easier if they hadn’t, uh…”

“Given us this as a thank you of sorts?” Verona asked.  “A meal that may be designed to be our individual perfect lunches?”

“I know you three aren’t picky eaters at all, but I am,” Snowdrop said.  “I hate seeing food go to waste.”

“You hate- oh.  Trash food,” Avery said.

“Uneaten meals going in the trash is just the biggest tragedy,” Snowdrop said, shaking her head slowly.  “It’s the worst.”

“Anyone up for fast food instead?” Verona asked.  “I know it’s a bit of a walk.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Avery said.

“Yeah.  I do, actually.”

“Tossing out food like this?  Who would do such a thing?” Snowdrop whispered, leaning over the cart, nose so close to the bowl of shrimp she was threatening to tip it over.  “I don’t even want to know.”

“Okay,” Lucy said.  “Fast food, then.  We should go now if we’re going to go and get back in time for afternoon’s class.”

“Self and soul,” Verona recalled.

“If you’re legitimately interested in this Halflight stuff, and ditching your humanity, partially or overall, this seems like a great class to pay close attention to,” Lucy told her.

“Souls, though,” Verona mused.  They left the cart behind and headed for the front door, against the loose collection of students.  “Do we really need souls?”

Snowdrop reached for food, and Avery moved her hand away.  “We’ll feed you after.”

“I’m willing to make you a bet, Ronnie,” Lucy said.  “That after this afternoon’s class, the consensus will be yes.  Yes, souls are important.”

“Pssh.  Class held by a bunch of soul-havers, bound to be biased.  We can’t really know until we dredge up some Others who don’t have souls and get their take.”

“You do that, Ronnie and I’ll listen.  Believe it or not, I do want to learn stuff, especially the stuff relevant to whatever practice you’re learning.”

Outside the school, in the parking lot, a bunch of older students were hopping in their cars.  More students were leaving the school campus than usual.  Hadley Hennigar, the Legendres, Xerxes and his little brother, Jarvis’s group, who were waiting and looking impatient while Silas talked to Estrella, off to the side…

America’s battered sedan looked like it had received the post-apocalypse road warrior treatment.  Modified engine block that stuck out of the open hood and blocked some of the driver’s view, spiked hubcaps, roll cage, graffiti on the side, and armor reinforcement.  Some of it looked less battle ready, but considering her focus on goblins, it was hard for Verona to say.  Fake eyelashes on the headlights and an arrangement of screaming rubber chickens rigged to the tailpipe.

If the group of older, unfriendly students wasn’t enough, the fact America and Liberty were getting in their car was good reason for Verona, Lucy, and Avery to stop walking and pause a healthy distance away.

America reached in through one of the car windows -no glass- and grabbed a goblin from the car interior, glancing over her shoulder before bringing it out.  It looked like a different type than the usual, which said a lot when goblins came in all shapes and sizes, with all sorts of features ranging from the noseless to the big-nosed, big-eared to pig-eared to earless.  This guy was decorated in glass and metal, and was bound thoroughly in chain and bike lock.  One key-turn freed him from most of it, America shoved some food in its mouth, gave its head a pat, while it smiled up at her, then tossed him into the open engine block at the front of the car.

“Bound goblin?” Avery asked.

“I think it’s a happy goblin,” Verona mused.

The car started before the goblin princess even had her car door open.  A moment later, she was tearing out of the lot, the rubber chickens screaming and flapping around behind the car like bats out of hell.

The three of them turned.  Clementine.  The woman was holding a wrap and finishing eating, as she stepped out from one of the workshops.  She was dressed for summer, with jean shorts and a tee with a color-mismatched pocket on the breast, and sneakers without socks.

“Or do I not want to know?” the woman asked.

“It’s a student with an annoying set of car mods,” Avery said.  “Hi.”

“Hi.  Was that the scary car?  The one that didn’t look like it should even run?”

“Yeah,” Avery said, adjusting her footing and bouncing on the spot in the process.

“We heard you’re still around,” Verona commented.

“Some of us are,” Clementine said.  “They set us up in here for overnight.”

As if to answer that, one of the others stepped out of the building, brushing her teeth.  Shellie, who looked a bit sleepy.  Despite the summer warmth, Shellie wore a long-sleeved shirt, covering most of her piercings and body mods.  Some had been pulled out or changed out.  It was still a lot, overall.

Shellie’s arrival had a chilling effect on the conversation.  The woman took her meandering time, walking over to where Clementine was.

“Crazy stuff these past few days, huh?” Shellie asked.

“Yeah,” Avery answered.

“Clementine was just telling us they set you up here for a bit.  In the workshop area?”

“Beds and everything,” Shellie answered.  “I’m taking five until I go back to Daniel.”

“I’m still getting to grips with a small part of what happened,” Clementine said.  “Did you guys have a run in?”

“Yeah,” Verona answered, not taking her eyes off Shellie.

“I tried to kill them a little,” Shellie commented, eyes half lidded, foamy toothbrush in hand.

“Oh,” Clementine said.  “Maybe go back inside?”

“Bygones, right?” Shellie asked.  “We good?”

“I don’t want to be on bad terms,” Lucy answered.

Shellie snorted.  “Good way of putting it.”

Some others stepped outside.  People who had been in the background last night.  An older man, a nervous looking guy, and a guy who wouldn’t make eye contact.

“What’s the story?” Avery asked, glancing between the newcomers and Clementine.

“Things back at the apartment building are pretty rocky,” Clementine answered.  “Apparently Mr. Bristow isn’t coming back?”

Verona nodded, swallowing.

“And Ted Havens- you met Ted?”

“We crossed paths,” Lucy said.

“He normally runs things when Mr. Bristow is gone, but he’s taking a sabbatical.  I don’t know how things are going to end up,” Clementine said.

“I think our offer stands,” Lucy said.  “Maybe get out now, while there’s nobody keeping you there.”

“Maybe,” Clementine said.  “That’s a maybe aimed at the offer.  I… I thought long and hard about what the old man said…”

“Charles?” Avery asked.  “He’s not old-old.  Just…”

“Life kicked his ass,” Verona finished.

“He said that I shouldn’t.  I thought about it and it’s usually better when I take advice.  And the bad advice I shouldn’t take tends to be people trying to lure me in.  So I don’t know.  I… a lot of stuff’s up in the air now.  I think I should back off and take people’s word for it.  But after that… what do I do?  Mr. Sunshine said he might be able to help with some things, since I can’t go to my landlord about it now, but if he’s gone, will the building be sold?  Will I be able to get in touch with my usual buyers, who take questionable stuff off my hands?”

“We could help a bit,” Verona said.

Clementine gave Verona a half-smile.  “The offer is appreciated.  I’m not sure I want to get kids caught up in this.  Especially given what happened the last time I came to your neck of the woods.”

“Is Raymond helping you get things figured out?” Lucy asked.

“Not really.  He’s figuring his own stuff out.  I work online, so I can be away for a little bit, but I’m postponing deliveries- I do online buying and selling.”

We know, Verona thought.  She was glad neither of the other two said it.

Shellie stretched a bit.  Piercings all up and down her arm stood out against her sleeves.  “And I work in a fucking gas station.  I called some people to cover me, but I don’t believe them.  Getting fired would be a mercy, anyway.  Not that you care about me.”

“Hey, if you don’t want to be enemies, I don’t know about these other two…” Verona started, looking at the others. “…but I’m cool with that.  I never want to work at a gas station, I think.  I don’t want to work anywhere, except for the weird stuff related to this school.”

“I mean,” Avery ventured.  “I don’t want to start anything, really, but… an apology would be nice.”

“Shell,” Clementine said.  “They helped Daniel.”

“Yeah, well, I get carried away.  The short man with the mustache knew that.  I should have been more on guard.  Sucks that you got in the way.”

“Uh huh,” Avery replied.

“Who are they?” Lucy asked, jumping in before things could go any further.  “Staying with you?”

Clementine looked back.  “Neighbors.  They had disputes about how Mr. Bristow was taking care of the building.  They were told if they traveled, on Mr. Belanger’s dime, they could name and shame him, instead of going through the convoluted landlord tenant board.  A bunch of them were mad enough to want to do it, especially once they were told Mr. Bristow was trying to acquire another property.”

“What do they do?” Verona asked.

“Do?” Clementine replied.  She looked surprised.  She frowned a bit.  “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Shellie said.  “Want the dirt?”

Lucy shook her head.  “Yes, but we don’t have a lot of time.  We didn’t want to eat on campus-”

“-and it’s a long walk.”

“Want a ride?” Clementine asked.  “My truck turned up last night.”

“Come on,” Clementine told them.  “She’s not very big, but if you don’t mind riding in the back…”

“We do that a lot, actually,” Avery answered.

They followed her.  Shellie came with, spitting her toothpaste into the grass, then, like she was a baseball player, hurled her toothbrush past the group of people at the door and inside.  Presumably to land on the floor.

Verona kind of wished she could give so few fucks.  Not that she was a fan.

“I’ll be back shortly!” Clementine called out to the three at the door.  “If Mr. Sunshine comes asking after me, let him know I won’t be long, I’m taking these three for lunch!”

Shellie wiped the toothpaste from around her lips.  It took some dexterity to get at individual sections of lip that were separated by piercings.  “Just so you know, our ride is a murder truck.  Scared?  It’s spooky, ooooh.”

“Right,” Lucy said.  “Sure.”

“It is though,” Clementine clarified.  “She’s not kidding.”

Lucy gave Verona and Avery an alarmed look.

“Did a lot of murders happen in it?  Or near it?”

“It’s not a murderer’s truck, it’s a truck that murders on its own,” Clementine explained.  “She found her way to me a few years back.  I love the aesthetic, and I figured as long as she’s with me, she’s not racking up a body count.  Can’t dismantle her, she’ll just turn up intact later.  But I had to do a retrofit to get her to where she can get up to highway speeds and be road legal.  That worked, at least.”

“You upgraded the murder truck?” Lucy asked.

Clementine stopped in her tracks, then resumed walking.  “I’ll keep her out of trouble.”

The murder truck, as it turned out, was the smallest truck Verona had ever seen, with a super low truck bed and a roof that was about the same height as Lucy.  It was white, a bit dusty, and showed no signs of the murder spree.

“I like it,” Avery said.  “Is it bad if I call it cute?”

“I’m unreasonably fond of it,” Clementine said.  “Even if cleaning is a horror show.  Tiny bones and congealing blood.  I went to a mechanic about it and they said it was an oil leak or something, the red color was a coincidence or rust boiling through with the oil.”

“Weren’t you saying America’s car was creepy?” Lucy asked.

“There’s creepy because of weirdness, and there’s creepy that makes you wonder who the owner is.  People bother me a lot more than some of this stuff,” Clementine said.  “You okay riding in the back?”

“More than,” Verona said.

It was a bit crowded, actually.  Avery sat up front, and then Lucy, Shellie, Snowdrop, and Verona sat in the back.

Windows were open and Clementine was right, she wasn’t a fast driver.  It seemed like a limitation of the truck and the roads being winding more than Clementine, though.

“Old man is a substance abuser,” Shellie said, head lolling back, watching the branches over the road as they passed by.

“I know that much,” Clementine said, from the front seat.

“Went to the war, got experimented on, you know the drill,” Shellie went on.

“Which war?” Lucy asked.

Shellie lolled her head back even further, until her shoulders and head were leaning well off the side of the truck bed.  She lifted a leg, and it looked like she could slide or fall off.  “Who knows?  The war.  You don’t ask a guy like that about his wartime experience.  You listen if he decides to share it.  He consumes enough caffeine to kill a herd of horses, pops the pills, whatever he can do to keep from sleeping.  Doesn’t really suffer for the lack of sleep or the drugs and stuff, but it does catch up with him if he lets his guard down.”

“What happens if he sleeps?” Verona asked, raising her voice to be heard over the whipping wind.

“Goes somewhere else.  Spot from the past.  You can always tell because he’s got fresh scars, blood, look in his eyes when he trudges in the front door.”

“I might actually have something that helps with that,” Clementine said.

“If you do, do it on the down low,” Shellie told her.

“Because the people who want him around aren’t people who want him better.  Just like they don’t want you fixed, or Daniel as a productive member of society.”

Verona had to lean over to get something of a view of Clementine’s face.  Clementine didn’t respond to that, just driving.  Lucy gave directions as they hit the intersection.

“No response?  That’s cool.  Moving on, the young lady?  She took me a little while to figure out.  Not really my thing, you know?  I thought, the way she’s working, the corporate overtime, she’d have to get promoted.  Probably a young CEO.  But no.  She smokes like a chimney, and comes up to the rooftop, so we run into each other a lot.  Got to talking.  My first clue was that she wasn’t sure if it was AM or PM.  She’s a basic data entry tech.  Has been for a while.  She can’t keep track of the days.  The clock and calendar aren’t nice to her.  You didn’t like the sound of working in a gas station, kid?”

“Nope,” Verona said.  “Sorry.”

“She works twenty-six hour days.  Might be longer if you account for other weirdness.  She doesn’t realize it, she can’t keep count, but she goes in, doesn’t come back to the apartment for a while.  Then she arrives home, maybe watches some TV, has a smoke, might have a, uh, gentleman caller but can’t actually upgrade to having a boyfriend because she doesn’t have the time.”

“So she’s, what, stuck at work?” Verona asked.

“You know when it feels like your days take forever before they’re over?  At school or whatever?”

“School, yeah,” Lucy said.  “Can’t work yet.”

“Don’t have to work yet,” Verona said.

“Hers actually take as long as those worst days feel like.  She at least racks up some crazy overtime, nobody’s caught it.  She sends the extra home to her mom to help get her out of debt, her mom wastes the money.”

“That sounds like a kind of hell,” Verona said.

“Can’t anyone help her?” Avery asked.

“Can you help her?” Shellie asked, indicating Clementine.  “Me?  Daniel?”

“Some,” Avery said, frowning as she looked back through the window.

“You’re more optimistic than I am.  So, after Mr. Dreams-take-me-to-bad-places and Ms. Work-takes-forever, we have Mr. Prey.”

“The way he tells it, he bumped into a guy on the street, the guy dropped something.  He returned it, and got an envelope in exchange.  Money.  The person giving him the money freaked out when he opened the envelope to check, didn’t let him return it, then walked away.”

“How much?” Verona asked.

“A lot.  Enough that it was weird.  Ten years passed, nothing came of it, he nearly forgot about it, until a very pretty French woman with two very ugly French men came knocking.  They want what they’re owed, they tell him, and every time they catch up with him, they try to impress on him just how much they want it, before they drop him off at some random point unknown, bleeding, bruised, burned, electrocuted. Or he’s unscathed, but they burn his apartment building down.  Then the cat and mouse game begins anew.”

“I’m trying to think of what that would even be,” Lucy said.

“No idea.  He stole some money, tried to refuse it, but they don’t want the money back.  Even with interest.  They want what they paid for ten years ago.  Whenever he asks, they speak in metaphor only, or in French, or both.”

“Do you know?” Avery asked.  “What the metaphors were?”

Shellie shook her head.  “I didn’t have French class as a kid, and I kind of didn’t care.  We run into one another when I’ve finished a shift.  I finish my day as he’s starting his.  So long as he stays near the apartment building, they only watch from across the street.  The original three expanded to something like twenty.  Sometimes he’ll slip me five bucks to distract someone specific and let him by.”

“I’m thinking of the Wolf,” Avery said, leaning back and looking at Verona and Lucy.  “I feel like that’s sort of what she’d be like, given the chance.”

Just picking randoms to terrorize?

“If that’s true, what does it mean?” Lucy asked.  “In terms of deciphering his situation?”

“Could mean they don’t want any specific item or person.  Maybe they want the chase, the hunt.  They paid so they’d have the justification to hunt him.”

“They don’t, though,” Lucy said.  “Maybe if someone with enough authority told them…”

“I wouldn’t want to be the one to try,” Shellie said.  “They’re frustrated he’s so hard to get to, these days.  Kind of like certain school staff, who were pretty eager for someone to give them a reason.”

Verona looked away.  Shellie laughed.

They reached the small town.  The kid from before who’d been in the wading pool was there, slack jawed and staring, while a baby wearing totally unnecessary floaters was leaning hard into the pool’s edge, making it collapse and water leak out.  No parents in sight.

The woman from before at the gas station was standing by the door, smoking while there were no customers.  A similar-ish vibe to the current Shellie.

They pulled up at the fast food places.  Snowdrop was sleepy enough that Avery discreetly had her turn into an opossum, lifting her to a shoulder, and they ordered food for her anyway.

Verona had a barbecue chicken burger with sweet potato fries that were limper than spaghetti noodles.  It was nothing compared to what the nuggets back at the school would have been, but still better than eating at home, and she was ravenous.

Clementine and Shellie had been kind enough to wait.  They stood by the car.  Other cars from the school were in the lot, but Verona guessed the students had gone to sit by the water or whatever.

“How are you after last night?” Clementine asked, while they chewed, using the flat surface of the truck bed and the lip around the edge to rest stuff on.  “I’m not fishing for information.  I just worry.”

“You look healthier,” Shellie commented.  “Less cuts, bruises, and bumps.”

“Fast healing,” Verona answered.

“It was dark, so I didn’t see,” Clementine said.  “Was it that bad last night?”

“It was pretty bad,” Lucy said.  “It’s bad in different ways today.”

“Lucy got shot down by Yadira,” Verona said.  “Similar wavelength, before, right?”

Clementine cocked her head.

“For friendship.  Or at least, I wanted to not be enemies,” Lucy said.  “We didn’t make a lot of friends.”

“I’m not the best person to give advice on making friends,” Clementine said.  “Wish I could.”

“I’m a bundle of hugs, warmth, and smiles,” Shellie said, leaning against the side of the tiny truck.  “This here’s my thing.”

“Shellie is comfortable being on her own, I think.”

“Comfortable enough.”

“And I-” Clementine hesitated.  “I don’t make many friends.  I have a lot of acquaintances.  But not many friends.”

“Maybe you could consider us friends?” Avery suggested, shrugging.  Snowdrop roused a bit lifting her head, then noticed the food, stretching herself awake.

Lucy shook her head.  “It’s not- I don’t care as much about making friends as I care about… sorting out the mess.  Trying to limit the damage and what might follow us.”

“Like envelopes of money opening the door to life-ruining headaches ten years later,” Verona suggested.

“Hm,” Clementine hummed for a second.  “I do have experience with dealing with the aftermath of bad messes.”

Avery joined the conversation, eager.  “Any advice would be great.  I’m sorry to impose, you were kind enough to drive us.  And to help us last night.”

“I’m glad to.  What happened last night, going with Alexander, it didn’t feel right.  Helping you felt right.  Even if I don’t know half of what it meant.”

Shellie looked down at Verona.

“You okay?” Lucy asked.

Verona met her friend’s eyes, and saw that the irises were white, the edges red.

Verona turned on her sight, meeting Lucy’s eyes with purple ones, and stuck out her tongue.

Oh wow.  Now that her Sight was on, she was seeing just how… meaty that truck was.  And everything near it.  It was less like it had a thing made of gore flapping around in it, because there wasn’t much space for anything in there, and more that the immediate vicinity of the truck was shark infested water, the flayed-flesh sharks swimming beneath the street, while bits of meat floated around, chum in the water.

“I’m serious,” Lucy said, taking hold of Verona’s chin and forcing Verona back to eye contact.

“I think I’m okay,” Verona said, her pronunciation messed up because of Lucy’s fingers near her mouth.  She did think so, even though her stomach was sore, like she’d been punched there a few times and couldn’t relax the muscles.  She didn’t remember taking any hits there yesterday.

“Okay,” Lucy said, letting go.

Clementine folded her arms.  She took a few soggy sweet potato fries as Verona held a container out.  “I think when it comes to situations that seem unreasonable… I think of the time someone invited themselves over to my place.  We’d been a thing, it hadn’t been great, but I wanted company.”

“Understandable,” Avery said.

“I was worried my place was a mess- this was before Sargent Hall.”

“Inviting one night stands to Sargent Hall is a gamble.  They might run into someone in the hallway and get scared off,” Shellie said.

“Yeah,” Clementine said.  “But that’s not what I’m talking about.  I had to do about a week’s worth of cleaning in an hour.  More than.  With the added problem that there are things at my apartment that I wouldn’t want someone I liked to get tangled up in.”

“Seems like mess would be something you’d really want to avoid,” Lucy said.

“It is, and I’ve learned that the hard way.  But that was… let’s just say it was a dark month or two.  Part of why I wanted an ex girlfriend over, even if she wasn’t my absolute favorite.  I let things slide, I had to clean up.  So how do you tackle that?  It’s easy to be paralyzed by the mountain of stuff before you.”

“I feel a bit paralyzed right now,” Lucy said.

“I had to tackle it.  What would do the most damage if I didn’t deal with it?  Either in terms of mess and her opinion of me, or the… I don’t know.  The reversed music box that turns random people nearby into babies.  Lotion that makes you immortal, but more and more cruel.  A paper airplane that was really good at flying, and slitting throats with papercuts.”

“Lots of stuff, yeah,” Lucy said.

“Start big.  The most obvious, problematic stuff.  And the stuff that’s easiest to handle.  Then you work your way down.  Then you ask yourself what the next biggest problem you’re facing is.  What needs to be handled?  And you work your way down.  Maybe accept that you can’t fix it all.  If you’re having somebody over, and they more or less invited themselves, then they shouldn’t expect things to be perfect.”

Lucy shook her head.  “It’s not about being perfect for any one person.  It’s more like… if we can’t get stuff sorted here, then what happened back home where you and Sharon and, uh-”

“Daniel,” Shellie said.  “I’m not going to bite your head off, so long as you don’t try to guilt me.”

“Not trying to.  When you guys got sent our way to pry and cause chaos, that might become regular if we don’t give people reason to back off,” Lucy said.

“Then start with the biggest things you can deal with, and work your way down,” Clementine said.  “Keep an eye out for fixes for the big stuff you’re ignoring.”

“You should be good at that,” Shellie said.  “The way you dealt with the biggest threat last night, and murked our landlord.”

That feeling in Verona’s stomach, like she’d been repeatedly punched, shifted all at once.  Like hands were gripping her guts, twisting.  Fine one second, and the next, distress, pain, and the aftertaste of the chicken burger she’d already eaten and swallowed became more intense than when she’d been chewing on it.

The food stuff made her think of the brownie’s gift, like a prize or some crap, and the pain made her think of her dad, and of not going home, and karma, and the-

And that was the entirely wrong line of thought to go down because it made things twice as bad.

She turned, jogged a few steps away, and decided jogging was bad, walked, then staggered, and then doubled over.

Last night’s late dinner and the meal she’d just eaten found their way to the ditch.  She almost keeled forward, but Lucy caught her.

Even when she was done, and it took a few goes, it was like her body was trying to purge itself of the negative thoughts and memories, and with her stomach empty, it worked on her lungs, making breathing hard.  She coughed and sputtered, trying to clear her throat.

If I’m going to purge my brain of all the bad stuff, there’s an awful lot more lung, heart, throat, and stuff to get through before you get to the skull, body, she thought.

She had tears in her eyes, and they were mostly from throwing up, and they caught the sunlight that filtered down through the tall trees around this little mini-town.  The light mixing with the moisture in her eyes made x-shapes, like a reminder.

Shellie came over with a water bottle from the gas station, handing it to Clementine.  Clementine wet a napkin, then handed it over.  Avery used it for Verona’s forehead, then mouth.

Lucy just stood by her, half-hugging her, and keeping her from falling over.

“Do you want a ride back?” Clementine asked.  “To a school nurse or something?”

“We don’t really have a nurse,” Avery answered.  “We have a Durocher.  Scary teacher.”

“We might not survive what she does to fix us up,” Verona mumbled.

“In some cases,” Lucy clarified.

Verona nodded, her vision filled with those ‘x’ shapes reflected in the moisture that welled in her eyes but didn’t drip down her face.  She thought the nod would shake them free and it didn’t.

“Are you up to walk back?” Lucy asked.  “You can borrow Avery’s… thing, maybe.  But I think we should talk amongst ourselves.  Figure stuff out.  Go over key stuff.  Family stuff.  Strategy.  If you’re up for it.”

“Could get a ride back and leave Lucy and me to handle talking about that,” Avery said.  “Catch a nap?”

“Important afternoon class, remember?” Verona asked.  She was a bit hoarse.  “Yes.  I can walk.  I’ll deal.”

“Time delayed reaction, huh?” Avery asked.

“Is she okay?” Clementine asked.

“Verona bottles crap up and doesn’t think about it until it blindsides her.  It’s been a few years since you did that like this, Ronnie.”

“Can I do anything?” Clementine asked.

“Can we talk further?” Lucy asked.  “What’s your schedule like?”

“While you have your afternoon class, I’ll be having my meeting with your temporary headmaster,” Clementine said, her voice gentle.  “Then I go home, drive Shellie back.  Raymond Sunshine will arrange transportation for the others.  It’d be nice if Kevin and Rae had offered to give anyone a ride, but they left first thing.  We’ll have to make it safe for Curran, the guy with the mob after him.  Or whatever it is.”

“Not a mob,” Shellie said.  “Mobs don’t act like that.”

“Whatever it is,” Clementine said.  “But I’ll be leaving.  If that’s okay.”

“It’s okay.  We appreciate what you’ve done,” Lucy told her.

“You have my number.  I’d like to not lose touch.  Call if you need help or support, or… just to call.”

“That means a lot.  Thank you,” Avery said.  “Good luck with the apartment, and your, uh, girlfriends?”

Smooth, Ave, Verona thought, licking her lips and then wishing she hadn’t because it tasted like bile.  She motioned for and took the wet napkin to wipe at her mouth.

“Not girlfriend.  Partner, I think.  I might be jumping the gun on that one, but… I really want it to be the case.  I took the leap, reached out after talking to Charles, that old man you introduced us to.  I told them my life was complicated, they’re okay with that.  I’ll ease them into the rest.”

“That’s so great,” Avery said.

“I’m pretty terrified,” Clementine admitted.

Verona straightened up, wiped at her eyes with the napkin, and saw Clementine smiling.

“Before,” Verona started, and her voice was a croak, prompting her to clear it.  “Before the end of summer… we might need a bit of help.”

“Anything I can do to help.”

“Stuff that’s safe and easy to use.  Or hard to use but you’ve figured it out enough to tell us what to do?” Verona asked.

“Okay,” Clementine answered.

“And Shellie?” Verona ventured.

Shellie’s pierced eyebrows went up.  She looked hot, wearing long sleeves in summer.

“We might need to kick Fae ass at some point.”

“Say when and where.”

Lucy’s grip on Verona’s arm tightened.  Verona could almost read her friend’s mind.

Shellie in the mix would make things harder, not easier.

“More like… advice?  Tips?  Any tricks?  Can we call or something?”

Shellie leaned back, looking to the side.

“Shellie,” Clementine said.  “Help them out.  Especially if you did try to kill them.”

Verona closed her eyes.  For a moment where they were opening again, moisture drew out those bright ‘x’ shapes, like the eyes of Brownies.

“Call Clem, Clem can bug me for it.”

“Thanks,” Verona said.

“Don’t thank me.  Thanks are annoying.  Just… employ some extra prejudice, when the asses are kicked.  How’s that?”

Verona shrugged and nodded.  “If or when.”

“Feel better,” Clementine said.

With those parting words, she headed out.

“Ahem,” Verona read.  “Your father is out of immediate danger and shouldn’t need surgery, but he will be tender and sensitive to food for a while.  He’s got plenty of meds and is returning to work for half days.”

They sat on the sidewalk.  Verona read from her phone, Lucy to one side of her and Snowdrop in her lap.

Avery was drawing a circle on the road around them, using a fat stick of chalk.

“It will take six to eight weeks for things to return to normal.  He had a flare up after pushing himself too hard and too fast last night.  He’ll have regular appointments to follow up and watch for any signs of danger or relapse, and may want you to come for some, when you’re back.”

“Not too bad,” Avery said.

“I think he’s going to milk it.  He’s going to draw this out and guilt me and I really don’t want to go home.”

“Careful with the language,” Lucy warned  “Predictions are dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said.  “You can stay over some.”

“What if I go cat mode for a few weeks?  Just as a trial run-”

Avery sat down beside Verona.  “If you can figure out a way to stay at Lucy’s without her mom talking to your dad, then maybe you could become a cat and stay with me when you’re not there?”

“I’d be worried your little sister would twist my head off or something,” Verona answered.  “And I don’t want to fib to Lucy’s mom.  But we’re getting distracted with my crap.  What about what Clementine said?  About there being big stuff to handle?”

“This is big stuff,” Lucy told her.  “We can’t handle all this other crap unless we’re all okay.  And you’re not okay.”

“And you?” Verona asked.  “Ave?  You were a part of things.”

Avery nodded, eyes dropping.

“I was telling myself he had an out and he decided to march in there as a big fuck you to us.  And I guess to leave a mess here for whoever became headmaster, and to mess things up at the apartment, and a bunch of other stuff.  So fuck him, right?  I shouldn’t feel bad, right?  But… it caught me off guard.”

“It wasn’t only the one time,” Lucy said, looking around at the sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere, with megafrighuge trees in the yards and stuff.  “We offered him a lot of chances to stand down.”

“I don’t think that makes it better,” Avery said.

“They came after us, over and over again.  They used us, they pit us against their enemies,” Lucy said.  “They acted like the wanted the school but they were awful to the students.  Holding them hostage, using them like pawns.”

“Alexander’s another thing,” Verona said.  “If we’re sorting out our messes from biggest to smallest, then he’s probably the next biggest, and normally my mind feels like I can think about things from all angles, but I don’t even know when it comes to a guy like him.”

Lucy looked down at the circle that Avery had drawn.

“Circle isn’t changing your stomach any?” Lucy asked, looking over.

“I’d guess it isn’t an attack, then.”

“No,” Verona agreed.  “It isn’t.”

Lucy laid down a small stack of notecards.  Connection blockers, with some anti-augury.  She fanned the four cards out, and they flared as they lined up with the circle.

“That won’t last very long unless we give it a lot of power,” Avery said.  “Or redraw with something better.”

“We don’t need long,” Lucy said, handing the cards out.  “Hold onto these.  Let’s keep conversation private for the walk back.”

“You okay to walk?” Lucy asked.

“Do we need to worry?” Verona asked.  “If Alexander comes, it’s going to be when we aren’t near the Aware, or smack dab in the middle of this town, with a bunch of wary locals watching us through their windows.”

“Come on,” Lucy said.

“No, but I’m pretty sure.”

They walked.  Verona kept the paper held to her chest, over her heart.  It felt cooler than anything else she was touching.

“Ronnie, stay over lots.  But tough it out if you can.  Remember we’re your escape hatch.”

“Okay,” Verona said, feeling miserable, her throat sore, her stomach growling.

“I think I’m more okay with what happened to Bristow than you two are, believe it or not.  Because fuck him, he came after us, he raised the stakes.  We were on the back foot, we didn’t want that.  He’s like a big stupid bull that charged through.  And on his way out, he hurt Clementine and the other tenants who didn’t deserve that crap?”

Lucy sounded mad, her words heated.

And it helped.  It really helped.

“I’m not glad it happened, I wish we found another way, but the important thing is that we found a way,” Lucy said.

“Yeah,” Verona replied.

“As for the other headmaster… don’t say his name for a few minutes.”

“Because I think people are keeping an ear out,” Lucy told Avery, touching her earring.  She held up the card.  “If we aren’t careful this simple connection block and anti-scrying stuff will collapse mid-sentence.  So let’s not give them something to latch onto.”

“What are you talking about?” Avery asked.

“He isn’t a concern, in the- he’s not going to come for us.”

“I’ll tell you details later.  He’s gone.  More gone than Bristow.”

“You went out into the woods,” Avery said.  “You were worried about… John.”

“He said he needed some time before Matthew called him back with a tag.”

“Promises have power,” Verona said.  “Alexander sounded mad, that’s the sort of thing that makes it easier for an echo-”

“No chance of an echo,” Lucy said.  “Or revenant, or alchemical revival, or anything like that.  They’ll eventually find the car, but John said he was going to drive it through some shallow streams and creeks, then drive it into a river.  Rivers wash away traces and connections, and break up trails.  I stuck some anti-augury stuff in there, some general connection break stuff to weaken the chance anyone would follow John.  I scrambled some other augury stuff, added noise, trampled all over the crime scene.  Made sure there was no evidence I could see with Sight.  Did everything I could.”

“You say all of that so calmly,” Avery said.

“I don’t feel calm,” Lucy said.  “I feel angry.  I’m frustrated.  I- I can’t get some stuff out of my head.  And I’m worried that’s, like, permanent.”

“Talk to your counselor?” Verona asked.

“I want to.  It’s hard to schedule, and I crammed one in yesterday morning.”

“Maybe if you say it’s an emergency?”

“I don’t even know what I’d tell her.”

They walked in silence for a bit.  Verona checked the connection card.  Still intact.

Verona’s thoughts roved through everything from how Lucy could word things for her therapist, to Bristow, to Brownies, to Alexander, trying to visualize just what it was that Lucy had done.

Lucy hadn’t slept well last night.  None of them had.  But Lucy less than either Avery or Verona.

A lot of Lucy spacing out today made sense too.

She gave Lucy a one-armed hug, walking beside her.  Lucy returned the hug.

A distant, unearthly shriek grew louder.

America’s car came tearing down the road, swerving into the other lane to give them a wide berth before disappearing around the corner, rubber chickens hollering as the car exhaust poured from their mouths.

Verona smiled, and was glad to see Lucy doing the same.  Avery snickered.

“We’re not really making good use of these cards we took the time to draw,” Lucy remarked.  “Being all quiet.”

“Maybe a bit of silence throws them off the trail, if they get suspicious,” Verona said.

“We’ve got to figure out food-”

“Urgh,” Verona grunted.  “Don’t remind me.”

“-and what books to get from the library.  It’d be nice to know what classes are covered later.  I overheard someone saying Sol Ferguson’s dad is coming to teach tomorrow,” Lucy noted.  “Elementalism.  Relevant.”

“We’ll have the Athenum, won’t we?  Sunshine’s program?” Verona asked.

“Who knows?” Lucy asked.

“I really want it though.  How much will it suckif we can’t use it?  If we have to go from having all of this to going home and having almost nothing.”

“Toadswallow can’t teach you a damn thing,” Snowdrop pronounced.

“That’s true,” Verona agreed.  “Very specific style and focus of teaching though.”

“One thing that was bugging me,” Avery said.  “Was Charles’ books.  We kind of asked about his old books and if anything was left over and he seemed to think there was, but then we got busy and we didn’t follow up.  We never got a definitive no.”

“We didn’t,” Lucy agreed.

“Might be nice, if we go home and don’t have any books or the library program.”

“Please, no.  Let’s not even entertain the idea,” Verona protested.

“Speaking of reading,” Avery said.  “I’m also just noticing Snowdrop’s shirt…”

Snowdrop was wearing a top with exaggerated armholes that indicated she was wearing a bandeau top or something beneath.  It had a hood built in, and a pouch at the front.  It depicted a pudgy opossum with a remote control, sitting up, and the pouch at the front had ‘Pouch Potato’ printed on it.

“I think when your shirt is saying you’re overpreparing for winter, Snow, you need to take that as a literal sign,” Avery told her companion.

The light, joking talk continued the remainder of the way back.  They took a shortcut down a path through the woods, so they didn’t have to travel the bend in the road, and Verona caught a glimpse of Lucy’s expression turning more solemn as she got lost in thought.

The way the conversation had turned to the way Alex had so suddenly been removed from the picture- it was jarring, it was unsettling, and that mirrored how quivery her stomach felt after throwing up from stress.

But as she groped for equilibrium and balance and a break from that quiveryness, she couldn’t help but think of Charles, and Charles’ warnings from the very start.  That they shouldn’t get involved.

Clementine was taking that advice.  Taking a leap with her partner, which was great.  But stepping back from trying to get all the answers.

Verona knew she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t quite understood what Charles had been referring to until now.  She’d seen enough monsters, enough shitty people.  Practitioners… she got why Matthew was so spooked, dropping them off here, the way he’d talked about the other kids and teachers.

But seeing Lucy digesting the events of last night… more than throwing up, it was the worry for Lucy that really hit home.

She didn’t want the light in Lucy to go dark.  She didn’t want Lucy to stop being about justice and fighting injustice and being elegant and being someone who could fit in with beautiful people like George and Amadeus and Mia.

“I don’t want to go down this road,” Verona mused aloud, “-the”

“This road?” Avery cut her off.  “Back to school?”

“You didn’t let me finish.  I don’t want to go down this road of becoming a practitioner like they are in the big textbooks, or like how Bristow and Alexander are.”

“Frigging good,” Lucy said.  “I’m glad.  Because screw that.  I- I don’t either.  I think when I summoned John and Toadswallow asked me if I was sure about having him along… deep down, I wanted change.”

“Spooky,” Avery said.

“I don’t think you’re in danger of becoming a Bristow,” Verona said.  “Or an Alexander.”

“You’re too cool,” Lucy said.

“She’s so uncool,” Snowdrop hissed, leaning over.  “So lame, you shouldn’t ever see what she’s like when nobody else is around.”

Avery pulled Snowdrop’s hood up and over her head, pulling it down over her face.

“But there are other traps.  Other dangers,” Verona said.  “If you end up some practitioner on the fringes… gotta be careful of the kids.  That’s when you let your guard down.”

“End up like my parents?” Avery asked.

“Compounded by practice?” Lucy suggested.

“We gotta keep each other on the straight and narrow, away from all those traps,” Verona said.  “Keep the best parts of ourselves.”

“Heck yeah,” Lucy replied, eyes on the school as they emerged from a second shortcut through woodland.

Some students were climbing out of cars.  Others were hanging out on steps in workshops.

“Feeling all squared up?” Lucy asked, watching the students, as many of those students stared at them.  Her eyes had the Sight on.

“More square,” Verona replied.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us.  Was seeing a lot of swords and stains with my Sight.  A lot of those points were pointed at us, until they started realizing I was looking and putting them away.”

“Good to know,” Avery murmured.

They crossed the campus, many eyes on them, and headed to the main classroom.  The students that weren’t outside were already seated.

Their teacher was a nervous looking guy that could have been a math teacher in a cartoon.  Everything except the pocket protector.  He had props- anatomical models that were more like that drawing by Da Vinci, the Vitruvean Man, and boards arranged with drawings of bodies and lines in the body and the entire mood was just… very sex ed class, somehow.  The focus on bodies.

Verona settled in on the bench.

It took a couple of minutes.  She mostly focused on not focusing on her stomach hurting a bit.

“Self, spirit, soul.  Who are you?” the new teacher asked the class.  No introduction or anything.  “Who or what will each of you become?  What were you when you began, except your parent’s child, and what will you be when your story closes?  Do you really change, from start to finish?”

Verona slumped down in her seat a bit, but she listened.