October 6 / Hagalsan 14

  There was an unmarked police car in the driveway when Susan and Agatha walked up from the bus stop that Friday. Agatha stopped. “Is there news? Maybe they found him.” To Sue’s ears, the hopefulness sounded forced, as if her nine-year-old sister was trying too hard to remain positive.

  She grabbed Agatha’s hand and pulled her back into motion. “I suppose we’ll see. But…” she allowed her voice to trail off. Entering the kitchen door, Aunt Fiona, and detectives York and Jenkins were seated at the kitchen table.

  “Girls, sit down.” Aunt Fiona said. “The detectives have something they need to tell you.”

  The forced smile on Agatha’s face shattered. “Is he dead?” her voice quivered.

  “We-” Mrs. Jenkins started. She was the nice one, almost motherly. But Susan felt more of a connection with Detective York. He seemed solid, like Dad, or Al.

  “Please, Detective, they deserve to at least hear it from me.” Fiona interrupted. The two officers nodded. “The detectives will not be actively searching for Alboim any longer. With no new leads, their bosses can no longer justify the cost, so-”

  “They’re giving up.” Agatha began to rock back and forth, eyes welling with tears. The despair in her voice shredded Susan. “You're not going to look for him anymore!” she ran from the room, stomping up the stairs.

  “Agatha!” Fiona called as she ran.

  “I’ll go.” Susan said, vision blurry from tears she would not—could not—let fall. I have to be the big sister. She hardly waited for Fiona to nod resignedly before following her sister's path.

  Agatha was in her bed, curled into a ball and shaking silently when Sue opened the door. Obscenely cheerful posters of several stupid boy-bands were plastered on the yellow-painted walls. Sue was clinging to a stuffed bear Al had won at the county fair three years ago that was almost as large as Agatha herself.

  “Go away.” She muttered, voice smothered by the bear. “I want to be alone.”

  Instead, Sue got into bed with her, holding Agatha in silence.

  “I miss Al.” Agatha finally said, turning to hold Susan instead of the bear.

  “I know, love. I do too.”

  “I miss Mama, and Papa. Don’t you leave me too!” she cried.

  Susan stroked her head and back, letting Agatha cry it out. “I don’t plan to go anywhere; you’re stuck with me.”

  It’s easier for me because I know Alboim is alive, somewhere, on Dad’s world. She’d feel better too, if she knew.

  “Ags. I-” Don’t do it! Her conscience screamed. You know she can’t keep a secret. That’s why Aunt Fiona made you promise not to tell.

  “I miss them too.” She managed to stop herself from blabbing. I’m sorry, Agatha. I could ease your pain, but that would cause a lot more pain to other people. “I will always be here for you, Agatha Kiku. You’ll never be alone, I promise.”

  “Al said that too!” she wailed. “And he’s gone.”

  “No, no, he is not.” Susan insisted, “The police gave up, but we will not. He is alive somewhere, trying to get back to us.”

  “But what- what if he’s dead?”

  “Then he is with Mom and Dad in heaven, watching over us.” Agatha nodded into her shoulder. It seemed to calm her a little, and her crying gradually slowed, then stopped. Sue continued to hold her until she finally fell asleep.

  Gently disentangling herself from her sister, Susan stood, looking for a blanket. For half a second, she thought she saw a flash of pink and black, but when she looked again, nothing was there. Probably a trick of the lengthening shadows.

  The police were gone when she made it downstairs again. Fiona was in the kitchen nursing a cup of green tea. “Want one?” she asked.

  “Sure. Agatha is asleep upstairs.” Sue sat as Fiona poured a cup for her and set it before her. “I almost told her.” Fiona said nothing, but raised a single eyebrow as she sipped. “I know, I know. Your Society is looking for Al, but it’s taking so long.”

  “Even knowing they cannot find anything, the police officially giving up comes as a shock. For what it’s worth, Detective York insists we not give up. He says he’s developed a gut feeling over the years, and he believes Al is alive somewhere.”

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  Fiona changed the subject. “I know it’s hard, but right now you just need to be patient, and work on your training. In all honesty, there is not much more I can teach you, there. You outstripped me weeks ago. I can only hold two spells at a time, and here, in three months, you can already handle four.” Fiona slid a small data chip across the table. “Here are the more advanced spells your mother wrote down. I could never pull them off properly, but you might. Your talent is at least as strong as Brittany’s was.” Fiona put a hand over hers and squeezed gently. “I am proud of you, and I know your parents are as well.”

  Sue finished her tea, and stood. “Thanks, Aunt Fiona.” She leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. I don’t know where we’d be without you. I’m going to go study.”

  “Do your homework first, Sue.” Aunt Fiona warned her sternly.

  “OK. There’s not much, anyway.” Maybe there’s a clue in here.

  Agatha barely ate dinner, and merely picked at her cereal the next day. The normally cheery girl was a shadow of her former self. Agatha excused herself as soon as she could and disappeared. From the living room, the plaintive tones of Clair de Lune, slow, melancholy, drifted into the kitchen.

  “She’s always been gifted, musically.” Fiona sighed. “These days, it seems the only thing she wants to do. She needs to get out more.”

  “I’ll ask her to go on a walk with me.” Susan offered. Aunt Fiona nodded, and a few moments later Susan wandered into the living room. Agatha was swaying with the music, back straight, eyes closed, fingers dancing over the keys. She’d even strapped blocks to the pedals so she could play properly. Sue waited for the end of the piece.

  “No,” Agatha said when she offered. “I just want to sit here and play.”

  Sue did not push it, and left on her own. The fall air was pretty crisp today, so Susan threw on a light jacket and stomped into her hiking boots. Just in case, she grabbed a scarf and gloves, stuffing them into a pocket before heading outside. The trees were brilliantly colored in yellows and oranges. About a quarter-mile away, a giant white oak tree, with scarlet leaves dominated the nearby woods. She had always liked that tree, and slowly made her way over.

  In fifteen minutes, Susan was alone under the trees. Only a murder of crows was around, though she could hear the chirping of birds and the chattering of squirrels in the distance. Concentrating on a pine branch, she said, “qatgha tarrith.” wind slice. The branch fell, cut clean by invisible blades. Yes! Her aim was improving. Using her arwa, she detected no one nearby to disturb her.

  It was time to try something a little more advanced. “Fittex id-dinjet ghal Alboim” Search the world for Alboim. She’d found it in the new spells, and the effect staggered her. Instead of a pleasant tingling or warm glow, this spell felt tiring, like doing wind sprints up the stairs at school. She staggered backward, hitting the wide trunk of the white oak. Maybe she would have to wait a bit to try Mom’s spells again, or at least progress through the ‘moderate’ file before trying the advanced ones.

  “It has been a long time since magic has been used here. And now, no less than five humans wield foreign magics.” The unexpected voice broke Susan’s concentration and balance. There was no one around! How did someone sneak up on me? She fell over, landing on her butt hard. Rubbing her bruised behind, she looked around, but saw no one.

  “Who’s there? Show yourself.” She called. A pair of young aspens parted, and a man appeared as if out of thin air. He was on the tall side, with iron-gray hair that hung in a braid over one shoulder. He wore a light yellow linen shirt tied closed by a leather string. Over the shirt, he wore a deerskin leather vest decorated with beads in complex geometric patterns and dark gray wool pants. His feet were clad in calf-high leather boots. A red wool cap perched on his head, and a jovial smile revealed heavy laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.

  Assuming a defensive stance, whispered, “Tharanisi.” Shield. “qatgha tarrith!” She could follow the spell, but the invisible blades abruptly vanished six inches from the man’s chest. “Tsk, tsk, little one. It is a good thing I am a friendly person, though you do well to think of your defenses, child. You are much like my friend Cayote, who never has learned to think before he acts.”

  He lifted a leather pack off his shoulders and dug into a pocket, ignoring her completely, as if she was no more dangerous than a mouse. “I am Chi-Jean, Susan.” The stranger pulled out a slab of homemade beef jerky and took a bite. He handed the jerky to Susan, who regarded it suspiciously. “It isn’t poison, child!” he laughed. “I am offering you hospitality. While we share a meal, you will be under my protection. Not even a rugaru would attack you under my protection.

  “Your parents once did me a favor, and I would like to return the favor. Please, eat, and we will speak.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, taking the proffered jerky suspiciously. She stuck it into her pocket, and glared at him.

  He sighed. “No one learns the old stories these days. I am a repository of wisdom, a helper of humanity, a benevolent spirit native to these lands. Well, this is further south than usual for me, but, as I said, your parents once aided me. So, I will grant you knowledge in a partial repayment of my debt.”

  Would Fireball work? Lightning? Ice Bullet? Susan pondered. No. They’re all basic spells. I need to run. Use Tangle, then run like hell.

  “Fiona knows me, Susan. You have no need to fear me so. Ask her when you return.” He smiled, a lopsided, mischievous twisting of the mouth. “To the matter at hand, you are moving too fast for your own good, like the squirrel who leaps before he looks. Your magic is too foreign to this world, too potent, too exposed, too innocent.”

  He pulled out another slab of jerky, and began to gnaw at it. “A familiar will help you to hide it from those who would do you ill. You will be a tasty snack for some of the more foul creatures, and then, where will that leave your promise to Agatha?”

  How did he know about that? Is he spying on me?

  “Just know, I am not part of the Society, more of an allied power. Speak to Fiona, and with your guardian’s permission, I will help you discover your proper familiar, and to unlock your true potential. I will see you again, Susan.”

  She was staring right at the man? Spirit? Being? When he turned and vanished. The only evidence that he had been there was the slab of jerky in her pocket and a faint laugh lingering in the still air.