Steadfast
Page 68
The darkness had taken as much from her family as it was ever going to. Never again.
Today would be the final unraveling.
Elizabeth walked along the street, bundled in her gray cape like any other teenaged girl. People waved to her cheerily, each of them no doubt thinking how dear she was, how much they admired her. She didn’t bother waving back; they’d remember her doing that anyway. They’d remember a smile.
Her new crow looped through the morning sky overhead. The flight pattern wouldn’t look unusual to any casual observer. Only someone watching carefully would realize the crow was flying in precise, geometric circles with Elizabeth at the center.
Mateo Perez, she thought.
Midway through the arc, the bird shuddered in the sky, its wings flailing for only a moment before it regained steadiness. Elizabeth lifted one hand as if to point at the exact place the crow had faltered.
In her palm was clutched a crumbling bone, one from the first Cabot she had ever cursed. It would help her reach the last.
CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
THANKS FOR YOUR LOYALTY
LA CATRINA WILL RETURN!
The exclamation point felt like they were trying too hard. Still, his dad had hand-made the sign, and Mateo didn’t feel like making another one, so, okay.
He’d signed out of his first-period study hall, the better to finish closing the restaurant. The few useless scraps of peppers and guacamole had to be cleaned out of the fridge before they went bad; they had to take another tally behind the bar—stuff like that. Dad had worked late last night, leaving the finishing touches for Mateo. Hanging the sign on the door was the final step.
Mateo had never resented working at his father’s restaurant. Yeah, it ate up a lot of his spare time—and now that Nadia was in his life, he’d rather have spent that time with her—but still, Dad had always made it clear that the restaurant was what kept a roof over their heads. Grandma had disowned Mom when she got pregnant with him. They had to make a living. He had been expected to chip in as much as he could, as soon as he could, and that was just how things were. Really, it was better, being in touch with reality. Sometimes when Mateo heard his classmates bitching about not getting the newest phone or whatever, he wondered if they had any idea where money came from.
As he locked the door, though, he realized that he’d miss his shifts at La Catrina. Was it possible he actually liked it?
You’re just turning into mush today, Mateo told himself. He remembered last night, holding Nadia in front of the fire. Just the memory of the way she’d felt against him made his gut tighten, his heart turn over—
The light blazed around him, through him, making him stagger backward against his bike. All around Mateo, the world seemed to bend and break.
What the hell? He fumbled for his phone, thinking he had to call Nadia and tell her something serious had gone wrong. But then images took shape in the light, images that moved and spoke, and he realized that they weren’t the work of his Steadfast power. They were dreams.
His curse had broken free from sleep, and had sent the visions to torment him even now.
Nadia by the waves, wind whipping at her hair, screaming, “You don’t own me! You’ll never own me!”
Verlaine surrounded by the fires of hell itself.
Elizabeth with her arms outstretched, a smile on her face, triumphant.
Mateo tried to tell himself that none of it was real. He understood that the visions were only images of what could be—and yet he couldn’t make out the shapes of the buildings and cars around him, couldn’t even be sure that was really the ground beneath his feet. He slumped down until he fell, or seemed to fall; he couldn’t be sure.
The crow continued circling. Elizabeth held up her hand, sending her power into it, and thought, The little children.
Once again, it fluttered in the sky, uncertain. It was like shooting a bow and arrow, Elizabeth thought, and the crow was the bowstring being plucked. Its feeble life directed her weapon and gave it speed as it flew toward its target.
But she didn’t need the bird to lead her to the place she’d strike next. She was already there.
Elizabeth stood in front of Nadia Caldani’s house and smiled.
“Okay, where’s our pecan pie?” The substitute teacher, who was really nice but really old, kept looking through all the kids. Who was pecan pie again? Cole couldn’t remember. All he knew was that his costume was the very best one.
“Mine’s stupid,” Levi said. His mom had just put him in a brown sweater and pants and hung a sign around his neck that said GRAVY.
It was definitely stupid, but Cole knew better than to say so. He tried to sound cheerful as he said, “It’s okay.” Also, he couldn’t help thinking that at least Levi could go to the bathroom without having to ask someone to help him get out of his costume. Cole was starting to think he’d have to ask really soon, but he was embarrassed, and the teacher seemed like she was too busy.
Well, Dad would get here in a few minutes. All the parents would come to the pageant, and he could just go to the bathroom then, when Dad would take him.
He shifted from leg to leg and hoped Dad would get there before the pageant started.
The girl at the window—Abigail, in her cranberry-sauce outfit—started shrieking. Cole turned and saw all the birds. There were hundreds of them, hundreds and thousands, and at the sound of Abigail’s screams they began hurling themselves against the window.
Cole screamed, too. So did most of the kids. But he could still hear beaks and feet scrabbling against the glass, see their wings beating so hard, like they could save themselves. It was like they were flying into the window, but Cole somehow knew they were being thrown. That they were in pain, dying, afraid, but they couldn’t stop.
Today would be the final unraveling.
Elizabeth walked along the street, bundled in her gray cape like any other teenaged girl. People waved to her cheerily, each of them no doubt thinking how dear she was, how much they admired her. She didn’t bother waving back; they’d remember her doing that anyway. They’d remember a smile.
Her new crow looped through the morning sky overhead. The flight pattern wouldn’t look unusual to any casual observer. Only someone watching carefully would realize the crow was flying in precise, geometric circles with Elizabeth at the center.
Mateo Perez, she thought.
Midway through the arc, the bird shuddered in the sky, its wings flailing for only a moment before it regained steadiness. Elizabeth lifted one hand as if to point at the exact place the crow had faltered.
In her palm was clutched a crumbling bone, one from the first Cabot she had ever cursed. It would help her reach the last.
CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
THANKS FOR YOUR LOYALTY
LA CATRINA WILL RETURN!
The exclamation point felt like they were trying too hard. Still, his dad had hand-made the sign, and Mateo didn’t feel like making another one, so, okay.
He’d signed out of his first-period study hall, the better to finish closing the restaurant. The few useless scraps of peppers and guacamole had to be cleaned out of the fridge before they went bad; they had to take another tally behind the bar—stuff like that. Dad had worked late last night, leaving the finishing touches for Mateo. Hanging the sign on the door was the final step.
Mateo had never resented working at his father’s restaurant. Yeah, it ate up a lot of his spare time—and now that Nadia was in his life, he’d rather have spent that time with her—but still, Dad had always made it clear that the restaurant was what kept a roof over their heads. Grandma had disowned Mom when she got pregnant with him. They had to make a living. He had been expected to chip in as much as he could, as soon as he could, and that was just how things were. Really, it was better, being in touch with reality. Sometimes when Mateo heard his classmates bitching about not getting the newest phone or whatever, he wondered if they had any idea where money came from.
As he locked the door, though, he realized that he’d miss his shifts at La Catrina. Was it possible he actually liked it?
You’re just turning into mush today, Mateo told himself. He remembered last night, holding Nadia in front of the fire. Just the memory of the way she’d felt against him made his gut tighten, his heart turn over—
The light blazed around him, through him, making him stagger backward against his bike. All around Mateo, the world seemed to bend and break.
What the hell? He fumbled for his phone, thinking he had to call Nadia and tell her something serious had gone wrong. But then images took shape in the light, images that moved and spoke, and he realized that they weren’t the work of his Steadfast power. They were dreams.
His curse had broken free from sleep, and had sent the visions to torment him even now.
Nadia by the waves, wind whipping at her hair, screaming, “You don’t own me! You’ll never own me!”
Verlaine surrounded by the fires of hell itself.
Elizabeth with her arms outstretched, a smile on her face, triumphant.
Mateo tried to tell himself that none of it was real. He understood that the visions were only images of what could be—and yet he couldn’t make out the shapes of the buildings and cars around him, couldn’t even be sure that was really the ground beneath his feet. He slumped down until he fell, or seemed to fall; he couldn’t be sure.
The crow continued circling. Elizabeth held up her hand, sending her power into it, and thought, The little children.
Once again, it fluttered in the sky, uncertain. It was like shooting a bow and arrow, Elizabeth thought, and the crow was the bowstring being plucked. Its feeble life directed her weapon and gave it speed as it flew toward its target.
But she didn’t need the bird to lead her to the place she’d strike next. She was already there.
Elizabeth stood in front of Nadia Caldani’s house and smiled.
“Okay, where’s our pecan pie?” The substitute teacher, who was really nice but really old, kept looking through all the kids. Who was pecan pie again? Cole couldn’t remember. All he knew was that his costume was the very best one.
“Mine’s stupid,” Levi said. His mom had just put him in a brown sweater and pants and hung a sign around his neck that said GRAVY.
It was definitely stupid, but Cole knew better than to say so. He tried to sound cheerful as he said, “It’s okay.” Also, he couldn’t help thinking that at least Levi could go to the bathroom without having to ask someone to help him get out of his costume. Cole was starting to think he’d have to ask really soon, but he was embarrassed, and the teacher seemed like she was too busy.
Well, Dad would get here in a few minutes. All the parents would come to the pageant, and he could just go to the bathroom then, when Dad would take him.
He shifted from leg to leg and hoped Dad would get there before the pageant started.
The girl at the window—Abigail, in her cranberry-sauce outfit—started shrieking. Cole turned and saw all the birds. There were hundreds of them, hundreds and thousands, and at the sound of Abigail’s screams they began hurling themselves against the window.
Cole screamed, too. So did most of the kids. But he could still hear beaks and feet scrabbling against the glass, see their wings beating so hard, like they could save themselves. It was like they were flying into the window, but Cole somehow knew they were being thrown. That they were in pain, dying, afraid, but they couldn’t stop.
