Mark of Four Read online

  “Yes, ma’am.” He started to get up and move away, but Alayne stretched out her hand and laid it lightly on his arm.

  “Hang on, Kyle. You’re part of this, too.”

  Kyle and Jayme both eyed her with surprise. She shrugged defensively. “Well, he is. He was there.”

  Jayme sighed and turned to the nurse. “Right. Well, we’ve been discussing what you told Alayne about Shadow-Casters casting from a distance, and how their hold gets more tenuous the farther away they are. We were wondering about the—the students. Do you think—”

  Felycia was already shaking her head. “Nope. Didn’t happen. The condition of those kids when they arrived leaves no possible way. None of them would have had the strength to do even a minor throw-cast, much less a Shadow-Cast, which takes infinitely more skill and concentration.”

  “I see,” Alayne said slowly.

  The nurse dumped her bandage clippings in a bowl and headed for the station at the head of the ward. Alayne shook her head. “Another dead end,” she whispered to Jayme and Kyle.

  “At least we’re narrowing it down. It had to have been Sprynge or Casters in one of the neighboring tunnels,” Jayme said.

  “Narrows it down so much. There’s only a hundred other possibilities to consider. Maybe I should be looking for a list of Casters wanted by the High Court.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard,” Kyle grunted. “Comes up nearly every night on Continental Media.”

  “Good point,” Alayne nodded thoughtfully. “I guess that’s it then. What are you doing?” She stared at Kyle as he quickly ripped the tape from his arm and tossed it onto a nearby tray.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” he muttered. “Not even a twinge of pain. I don’t need to go strutting around like an invalid when I can’t even feel anything.”

  Alayne shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned to go.

  “Come practice with us tomorrow, Layne,” Kyle reminded her as she brushed past him. “It’ll be good for you.”

  “Sure, sure.” Her smile felt stretched and fake. “See you there.”

  * * *

  “Shh,” Alayne said, standing at the door to her dorm room. She peeked out into the hall, but no one was around. She shut the door carefully. “Cornelia’s the hall monitor this month, and she tried to turn me in for my alarm being too loud once. I think she’d be especially delighted to find you in my room.”

  Jayme looked up from the floor where he sat piecing her mirror shards together. “It’s not like she’d find us doing something improper or anything. Just fixing broken equipment. But,” he continued hopefully, “if you’d rather...”

  Alayne beaned him with a tiny shard of glass. It bounced off his shirt and fell to the floor with a small clink. “Jay, we’ve got to concentrate. This is going to take forever.” She leaned over the pieces and bit her lip as she studied them.

  Jayme’s hand tugged her braid. “I think Kyle had the right idea.”

  “What idea?” she snapped as she yanked the braid out of his grip.

  “You’re driving yourself crazy.”

  “Jay!” she exploded, “Marysa’s—”

  “Gone, I know,” Jayme said quietly. “And I’m working just as hard as you are to figure out any clues. But Alayne, have you looked at yourself lately? Have you heard yourself?” He brushed his knuckles along her upper arm. “You need to give yourself a break, just for a few minutes now and then, okay?”

  Alayne’s shoulders slumped as she stared at the mirror pieces. She slowly nodded.

  “Come on, smile for me, Al.”

  Alayne pasted a watery smile on her face. “I’m concentrating too hard to smile.” She pointed to the other side of the room. “And your work space is over there.”

  “Well, I concentrate better over here,” he murmured, pulling her close and nuzzling her ear. “Something about the air on this side of the room.”

  Alayne struggled to release the tension that riddled her muscles as Jayme playfully tackled her. A giggle escaped her lips, surprising her. Jayme’s lips spread into a wide grin, and he buried his face in her neck and ran his fingertips lightly up her ticklish sides. The giggle turned to a shriek.

  “You were the one telling me to hush,” Jayme laughed.

  A door slammed in the hallway. Jayme pulled away and helped Alayne sit up.

  Alayne held her breath, only releasing it when the footsteps faded out of hearing. She straightened guiltily. “Fine, you might have a point about relaxing now and then, Jay, but honestly, I feel horribly guilty, laughing when—”

  “I know.” Jayme watched her intently. “I do, too. But now we have more energy to put into helping find her, right?”

  A corner of Alayne’s mouth lifted. “I like you, Cross.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Worth.” With a reluctant sigh, he glanced back at the mirror. “I suppose we’d better get to work on this thing. It’s gonna take us a million years as it is,” he grumbled.

  “Let’s hope not.” The deadline to find the Vale pounded a steady pulse behind Alayne’s temples, a countdown that grew shorter every day. She sifted through the shards, searching for like edges.

  “Al?”

  Alayne glanced up at Jayme’s curly head, bent over the pieces in front of him. “What?”

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  Jayme raised his eyes to meet hers. “For taking a risk on a guy like me. For being my best friend. For—everything.” He shrugged.

  They stared at each other. Alayne smiled, a true smile this time.

  * * *

  They worked on the mirror for a week. The larger pieces were an easier fit, but when it got down to the fragments, Alayne became so frustrated, she ordered a break after only minutes.

  Jayme sorted through the remaining tiny pieces. “I’m going to kinda miss this. Sneaking up to your room every day, dodging Corn.” He grinned at Alayne.

  “Walking up eighteen flights of stairs,” Alayne muttered as she dropped a piece into place and smoothed it to fit.

  “You’d think they would have fixed that by now.”

  “It builds character, remember?” she said absently. “Since I haven’t had any other chances to build character this year...”

  Jayme fitted two more pieces of the mirror and touched them with glue. Alayne caught him casting a furtive glance her way. She knew he wanted to take her mind off Marysa. She wasn’t surprised by the upbeat tone of his next question, although it was the worst possible topic to try to lift her gloom. “It’s the beginning of April. Exams start in four weeks. Think you’re ready for that yet?”

  Alayne touched another piece with glue and laid it on the mirror. “No,” she whispered. She’d pounded out her terror for Marysa in the beat of her footsteps every morning as she jogged the perimeter of Clayborne. She’d poured out her fears in the library books she’d scanned and rescanned as time passed. As the days went by and the deadline drew closer, her panic had grown. She knew Jayme felt helpless to comfort her, and even if she could have told him about the Vale, she knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything, but she did appreciate his efforts.

  The mirror pieces blurred in her vision, and she swiped angrily at her eyes. “I hate crying.”

  Jayme reached across the glass and caught her hand in his. “It’ll be okay, Al. Something will crop up that we’ve missed all along and just didn’t think about, and it’ll make all the sense in the world.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Don’t cry, Al; you make me want to cry, too.”

  Alayne sniffed and rubbed her nose on the back of her arm. “Boys don’t cry.” Her voice was rough.

  Jayme lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t want to know how many times I’ve cried this year alone.”

  “What? Why?” Alayne stared at him.

  “Remember the night I caught you and Kyle on the dock?”

  “Like I’ll ever forget the way your face looked then.”

  “I cried my eyes out for hours, sure I’d lost you
for good with the way I was acting. And Kyle was being so horribly nice that night. I was about to punch out his lights.” Jayme smiled ruefully at the memory.

  Alayne sniffed and rubbed her nose on her sleeve. “But then we made up pretty decently, I thought.”

  Jayme shrugged. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

  Alayne reluctantly allowed a smile to curve her lips upward. “When else did you cry?”

  “I cried a couple of times in the cave when it looked like I might not ever be able to get back to you.” He rubbed his hand along his jawline. “I thought we were done. It was so long, and hope seemed so far away.”

  Alayne watched him as he dropped into silence and memory. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said.

  He shook himself. “Thanks to you.” He turned his attention to the mirror again, lining up the last few pieces to glue.

  “It’s coming together.” Alayne surveyed their work. “Granted, it’s hard to see your reflection in such a shattered mirror, but I think we did a pretty good job.” She walked to her dresser drawer and yanked out the piece of mirror she’d found in her mother’s folder. She carried it over to the floor, knelt, and fitted the piece right into the empty spot near the top of the mirror.

  Something very strange happened. The lines criss-crossing the mirror began to disappear. Line by line, thread by thread, they ran together until the entire mirror was once again a solid sheen, reflecting the room back at them.

  Alayne’s mouth dropped open. She turned to Jayme. His eyes were wide. “What just happened?” he whispered.

  “So the last piece was the key.” Alayne watched her smooth, line-free reflection.

  Jayme laughed. “All that work, and nothing to show for it. I mean, look at it.” He motioned to the mirror. “It doesn’t look like we’ve done anything at all.”

  Alayne ignored his joking. “Are you ready?”

  Jayme sobered again. “Go for it.”

  Alayne glanced nervously at the mirror and took a deep breath. “Uh, could I see ... my mom and dad, please?”

  Nothing appeared. Alayne didn’t know what to think. Had they killed the magic somehow by completing the mirror? She tried again. “Bryan and Wynn Worth, please?” No picture appeared.

  She glanced at Jayme, her heart sinking. She started to lower the mirror back to the floor, but before she could, the glass slowly swung open on a hinge from its frame.

  Electricity shot up Alayne’s senses. Instead of the dull, thin carpet of the floor behind the mirror, Alayne’s living room at home appeared.

  Alayne leaned toward her parents’ living room. She felt Jayme grasping her shoulder. “You’re not going without me.”

  And suddenly, there they were. Inside the living room. Alayne turned to see where the mirror was, but it had disappeared. “The mirror?” she gasped.

  When you’re ready to return, it will come. The words were not audible, but Alayne could hear them as if they had been spoken out loud.

  The clatter of a pot sounded from the kitchen. Alayne jumped. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she grasped Jayme’s hand and pulled him around the corner where her mother stood, emptying soup from a pot into two bowls.

  “Mom?”

  Wynn shrieked, dropping the pot with a clang to the ground. Soup splattered across the tile floor. Wynn sagged against the kitchen counter, her hand over her heart.

  “Alayne, what—how did you get here?” She swallowed hard and looked around. “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine, Mom. Just—let’s get this mess cleaned up, and I’ll tell you all about it. Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s out back. He’ll be in for supper in a minute.” She hurried over and hugged her daughter, squeezing her tightly. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Alayne returned the hug because that was what she was supposed to do, but anger kept her stiff. She stepped back before her mother had fully released her. She glanced over at the mess, but Jayme had already flown the pot back to the stove. He’d gathered up all the soup splattered across the floor into one big heap and was in the process of dumping the whole thing into the sink.

  Alayne cleared her throat. “Mom, this is Jayme. I wanted you to meet him at Christmas, but he was gone on a field trip while you were there.”

  Wynn looked him up and down. She took his proffered hand hesitantly. “Hello. Alayne’s mentioned you a few times in her letters.”

  “Oh, good. Always a good sign when your girlfriend writes home about you.” Jayme’s friendly grin melted the awkwardness.

  Wynn’s eyes widened, and she turned to stare at her daughter. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  Alayne shrugged, pasting a smile on her face. “There were some things I needed to talk to you about in person.” Bitterness tinged her tone, and she clamped her lips together.

  “Alayne!” Bryan’s voice boomed from the doorway. “What’re you doing here, Bug?” He crossed the kitchen and swept her up in a bear hug. After a moment, he grasped her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Something the matter?”

  Alayne shook her head. “We’re fine. This is Jayme.” She motioned to Jayme as he stood just behind her.

  “Her boyfriend,” Wynn added as she swept by with a pitcher of water.

  Bryan’s eyebrows arched. He reached a hand to shake Jayme’s. “Good to meet you, son.” He stepped back, and an awkward silence fell.

  Wynn took a deep breath. “Well, why don’t we all go have a seat in the living room and you can tell us why you’re here. Would anyone like a drink?”

  Jayme shook his head. “None for me, thanks, ma’am.”

  Alayne moved into the living room without answering as Jayme and her parents followed behind. She sat on the couch next to Jayme. Wynn and Bryan sat on the love seat. Wynn picked at the hemline of her t-shirt. “Is something the matter, Alayne? You seem ... subdued.”

  Alayne bit back the anger, forcing it somewhere deep and dark inside of her to be spooled out slowly rather than in one violent outburst. She took a deep breath. “You’re probably wondering how we got here.” She rubbed her moist palms on her jeans. “Marysa gave me a mirror for Christmas; it—it acts as a portal. We just now used it to go from my dorm room to our living room here.”

  Surprised exclamations burst from her parents’ mouths, and Wynn’s face turned white as a sheet. Alayne took a deep breath, deciding to directly address the unspoken ugliness in the room.

  Words poured out in a flood. “Mom, I know you’re an Elemental. I don’t understand why you thought you had to lie to me all these years. Why would you ever think that you couldn’t tell your daughter something that important? Did you think I would think less of you, or that I would regret you or something?” The lump in her throat made it difficult to speak, but she forced the words out anyway. “I trusted you. I trusted you, and you’re nothing but a liar.”

  Chapter 25

  “Alayne.” Bryan’s voice snapped across the living room. “You will not speak to your mother like that.”

  Alayne was past the point of caring. All the frustration, the doubt, the panic, the fear that she’d stored inside of her for a semester came flooding from her mouth in a torrent. “Why?” She slung her braid over her shoulder. “Could you not trust me with the truth? Why did you never tell me that you were an Elemental—a Water-Wielder, of all things? Why have you pretended all these years to be someone you’re not?” She launched herself to her feet, pacing the living room. “I don’t even know you, Mom. No, don’t deny it; that’s exactly what you did. You. Are. A. Fraud.”

  Wynne blanched. She pulled in a shaking breath. “I’ll tell you everything, Alayne, I promise.”

  Alayne wasn’t mollified. She turned her glare on her father. “Are you in on this, Dad? Are you an Elemental, too, and just forgot to tell me?”

  Bryan shook his head. “No, I was never lucky enough to inherit any abilities. I’m a Natural Human. Your mother is an Elemental.”

>   “Are you ashamed of that?” Alayne snapped. “Is that why you couldn’t let me in on this little secret?”

  “No, no, Layne, of course we’re not ashamed,” Bryan said, glancing quickly at Wynn. “The truth is, Bug, that it’s not a common thing. Elementals don’t generally marry Naturals and vice-versa, and we’ve gotten some flack for that, but ashamed? Never.”

  Alayne folded her arms defensively over her chest and glanced at Jayme where he sat in front of the tightly drawn shades of the living room. He didn’t seem fazed by the awkward situation.

  Alayne rubbed her hands along her upper arms. “You’ve always told me that Elementalism isn’t inherited. Was that was a lie too?”

  Wynn took a deep breath. “That part wasn’t a lie. Listen, Layne, just let me explain.”

  Alayne threw open her arms. “You think? Yeah, that’d be nice—an explanation after seventeen years of hiding the truth from me.”

  Wynn clasped her hands in front of her, her gaze not quite meeting her daughter’s. “Layne, I need to tell you I’m sorry that it’s been necessary to keep my abilities a secret. I never liked the secrecy, and I’ve been tempted many times to tell you everything.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I value your life too much.”

  “What in CommonEarth does that mean?”

  “Blue skies, Alayne, lower your voice. You may as well invite the neighbors to this discussion at your volume. Calm down.” Wynn shook her head in exasperation. “You’re doing like you do when you get mad—pacing and only hearing portions of what I’m trying to say. Just—calm down and listen, okay?”

  Alayne glared at her mother. She felt betrayed, and a small part of her wanted to hold on to a grudge. But she also knew that fuming about it would delay the answers she so desperately needed. She planted her feet on the carpet and faced her mother squarely. “Fine. I’m listening.”

  Wynn glanced at Jayme. “I apologize for this, Jayme. It’s—not how I would have imagined welcoming Alayne’s first boyfriend to our home.”