“There they are,” she said. “The soldiers.” I looked warily out the window. I didn’t know if they had my scan profile from last night on their ’tronic or anything—or what my algebra book might be giving off. Two of the soldiers were looking toward us but nobody tried to stop us. I didn’t mean to be holding my breath, but I let it out as Jill crossed the intersection. “No, I don’t like them either,” said Jill. “Although some of them are probably cute and nice and everything and joined the army because they needed a job.”
There was something about the atmosphere in the car I didn’t like, and I didn’t think it was the armydar. I glanced at Jill’s profile. Tentatively I said, “Casimir says that his mom is—um—a foreseer. That in Ukovia the magicians use foreseers so they’ll know where to be, ready and waiting, to shut down a cobey as fast as possible.”
Jill was silent for a moment. “I live in Newworld, and I want to be a historian. And if you’re asking me, I’d’ve said that it was a cobey in the park yesterday, and if something that isn’t a cobey could make me feel that crazy and off the planet then if I ever am near a real cobey opening I’ll probably start running around on four legs and howling at the moon or something.”
I shivered. I wondered if there was any particular reason why that metaphor had occurred to her. I wished there was a way to tell her about the park yesterday—and Takahiro—without telling her. Abracadabra or something. Ha.
“I think I’ve just decided I want to study the history of science,” she added grimly.
We weren’t any later than usual, and the bell hadn’t rung, so we stood around with our usual group. Steph was full of what she’d seen yesterday and everyone else was listening. Eddie was trying to catch Jill’s eye and I could see by the way she had her lips pressed together that it was taking some effort not to let him. Although it might have been the armydar—or the cobey. It wasn’t quite as bad here as it was outside at home but it was pretty bad. It was making me feel a little pressed-lips too. I put my arm through Jill’s and she gave me a sidelong smile.
Then the bell did ring, and I realized I hadn’t seen Takahiro. My stress level instantly soared. Jill was glad enough to drop to the back of our gang because Eddie was at the front—his homeroom was on the other side of the building. I looked around. My heart was thumping unpleasantly hard. There were three silverbugs in the trees beyond the edge of the parking lot. Three. Not a good sign. The arm that wasn’t through Jill’s was full of algebra book; someone else had probably reported them by now anyway.
It was Hix who told me. I felt that whisper of air against my cheek, the darkness at the edge of my vision that was Hix, and I looked in her direction, the way you turn toward someone putting their hand on your shoulder. I almost didn’t see him, the gruuaa were wrapped around him so tightly, but once you had seen him you had to notice how off he looked, like he was walking in a forest in bright daylight: lots and lots of leaf shadows with little twinklings of light, almost like miniature silverbugs. Suckfest. There were no shadows on the big paved courtyard outside the high school, or beyond the first row of cars in the lot. But it shouldn’t matter—I hoped. Almost nobody could see the gruuaa; I hoped the armydar didn’t mess with that.
“Oh, there’s Taks,” said Jill, sounding relieved. “I’ve been having one of my feelings that he might be in trouble. I’m tired of having—feelings. Gods. Does the armydar mess with your eyes? He looks all, I don’t know, patchy.”
I remembered that she’d seen the gruuaa on the shed, the day of Mom and Val’s wedding. “Oh, Jill,” I said, or rather wailed, “I have so much to tell you.”
“And none of it is good, is it?” said Jill. “I’ve been hoping that it’s just the armydar screwing up whatever it is that I do, but I’ve been having . . . Maggie, I don’t think Takahiro is very well.”
I was thinking the same thing, and was already moving toward him. I was beginning to feel that the gruuaa were holding him together somehow—like a mummy’s bandages.
“Taks, you should have stayed home,” I said. “You look awful.”
He almost smiled. “Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.”
He stopped trying to smile. “Yeah. But it’s worse at home. I think it’ll be better here—lots of other people. Distraction. I’m not . . . you know.” I’d been sniffing cautiously, and there was no wolf smell. “It’s just the armydar makes me feel like I’m being pulled apart. We haven’t even had a scan in this town in years.”
“And they weren’t this bad and they didn’t go on this long,” I said. “I know.”
“If it isn’t better here, I’ll go home,” said Takahiro, but he looked as grey as the cement-block front wall of the school entry as he said it. There were shadows draped around his chest and shoulders. Black was not a good color for him today.
“No,” I said. “If it isn’t better, I’ll take you to Val.”
Jill was looking at each of us in turn, frowning. “Tell you later,” I said, but I looked at Takahiro. He gave a tiny nod, and then went limping on toward the front door.
We were the last ones inside. It was suddenly a lot darker after the glare of the courtyard and we paused, and didn’t notice immediately the last of the kids ahead of us going through a big arch thing set up in front of the double doors into the school from the entry hall.
There were soldiers standing on either side of it. They waved us forward.
“Oh, gizmos and dead batteries,” murmured Takahiro.
“The gruuaa,” I murmured back. “They’ve got you.” I hoped. I could feel Hix tightening around my neck. It tickled, but it wasn’t funny.
Jill said under her breath, “The what?”
“Later,” I said. “We don’t want to look like we have anything to hide.” I was rearranging my algebra book like that was the only reason we’d stopped. I marched forward, thinking, What are they looking for? I reached up and found what I hoped was a trailing end of Hix and draped it/her over my algebra book. What would happen if the archway didn’t like me? Portcullis? Boiling oil? Or would they just arrest me? I thought I might prefer to take my chances with boiling oil.
“Morning, miss,” said the soldier on the left. “Just walk on through. This is only a formality, don’t worry.”
“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound as if I believed him.
There was a funny swipe against my skin as I walked through, like walking through a spiderweb. It should have been kind of like walking through trailing gruuaa but it wasn’t. Gruuaa aren’t sticky and don’t leave a nasty feeling behind them that you can’t wipe off. I disliked even more the sensation of Hix bushing out like an angry cat, and the algebra book cringing back against me. Also, oof. It was a big book and it was pressing my stomach into my backbone, which wasn’t leaving much space for the three mugs of coffee and a piece of toast that were there first.
The machine beeped. I stopped. My heart was beating way too hard and my mouth was suddenly so dry I couldn’t swallow.