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“Because no one’s immune; imperfection’s part of being alive,” said Jericho. “What this world needs isn’t new ideas. What it needs is old wisdom. If you develop your vision, you’ll see a way forward. Become a warrior in the fight between dark and light. Do you have a favorite animal?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” said Will, mystified.

“Think about it. Look for an animal in your dreams,” he said, lightly touching the feathers to Will’s forehead. “Then tell me if you dream of bears … or weasels.”

*  *  *

“Bears or weasels?” asked Nick. “Give me a freakin’ break.”

“That’s what he said,” said Will.

They were trudging back to campus after finishing their workout, afternoon light fading fast. The wind had picked up, smacking them in the face, a different kind of cold. Dark clouds bunched on the western horizon and a deep barometric disturbance was massing in the air. The pressure was falling fast; heavy weather was headed their way, maybe the first winter storm of Will’s life.

“Weasel Holes, now weasels?” said Nick. “That’s so random. I mean, why not monkeys or chickens?”

“He said weasels are the only animals that kill more than they need to survive,” said Will. “They kill because they like it.”

“Okay, that sucks,” said Nick. “Speaking of weasels, you think Todd ratted us out? Does Jericho know we’re the ones who kicked his team’s butt?”

“I don’t think Todd would want to admit it, do you?”

“Don’t know,” said Nick. “Never been in that situation.”

“Seriously? How many fights have you had?” asked Will.

“Including today? Thirty-one.”

Will stopped in his tracks. “You’ve had thirty-one fights?! And you’re undefeated? Thirty-one to zero.”

Nick shrugged, a little embarrassed, as they walked on. “Dude, there’s no point being in a fight if you’re gonna lose. You didn’t grow up in my neighborhood. Townies learn to throw down before they can walk. My dad says I clocked a four-year-old from my crib when he tried to steal my blankie. How many you had?”

Will stuttered, “Uh, fights? Besides that one? None.”

“You never had to fight, moving around as much as you did?”

“I’ve had to outrun a few guys,” said Will.

Nick gave him a fist bump. “That works, brother.”

“I just had no idea you were such a hard-core badass,” said Will.

“Let’s keep it that way,” said Nick, lowering his voice. “That’s the first scrap I’ve been in since I got here. I promised Pop I’d change my ways. He hears about this he’ll freakin’ kill me.”

“I’m sorry you got mixed up in it, then.”

“Naw, don’t be. Truth is, I miss letting the beast loose,” said Nick, shadow boxing. “Not that I went looking for trouble, but in my world when guys hear you’re a gymnast? You might as well be a florist who’s into ballroom dancing.”

“How’d you learn to … bounce around like that?”

“Started gymnastics when I was five,” said Nick. “The same year Pop got me into boxing. Then wrestling. Then tae kwon do and karate … later on aikido and kung fu … wing chun for defense … and recently this Brazilian jujitsu style, capoeira, that’s the total bomb.”

“Damn. No wonder you never learned how to run,” said Will. “How’d your mom feel about it?”

Nick looked away. “My mom died when I was five.”

Will stopped. “I’m really sorry, Nick.”

Nick nodded. “Thanks. I’m still pretty bummed out about it myself.”

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“Just me and Pop.”

A security guard drove by and waved as they reached the quad.

“So how’d you end up at the Center?” asked Will.

“Got the invite after I won gold at the New England high school gymnastics finals,” said Nick. “Which was kinda unusual, seeing how I was in eighth grade.”

“I’d say so,” said Will. “Which event?”

Nick shrugged again modestly. “All of ’em.”

Will’s eyes bugged out. “All of them? So you really are on athletic scholarship.”

“Dude, look around,” said Nick. “We couldn’t afford this joint without it. My dad’s a motorman for the MTA. He takes a train to work so he can drive a frickin’ train. Kind of guy who never gets the dirt out from under his fingernails, you know? So who says the only kind of luck you have is bad?”

“I hear that.”

“Dude, case you ain’t noticed, I’m not exactly the sharpest Crayola in the box. I can’t even spell dyslexia. I thought ADHD was some kind of plasma screen.”

Will laughed so hard he doubled over.

“But the day I get a college scholarship, nobody’s laughing,” said Nick, looking around at the ivy-covered halls. “A real college, not some juco vocational joint. Big Ten, Ivy League, ACC. That’s our plan, Pops and me, and we’re stickin’ to it.”

Will found Nick’s story hard to square with what he’d heard about the Center’s imposing academic standards. Could athletic ability mean that much in their selection process? And if so, why?

“I should talk,” said Nick. “You run like a freakin’ antelope. That how you got here?”

“No. Something to do with a test I took,” said Will vaguely. Will stopped under a streetlamp a block from Greenwood Hall. He wanted to tell Nick everything, all the rest of what he’d been through, what had happened to his parents, the things Jericho had just told him, Dave’s tour of the Hierarchy and the Never-Was. Keeping all these secrets straight made his head feel like it might split in half. And Nick was the right guy to trust, an honest, good-hearted scrapper from the wrong side of the tracks. Will wanted him as a friend more than ever.

Do I really need any more convincing? The guy just launched himself into a one-sided stomping and saved my rear end. And, by the way, he hits like a dump truck.

But Rule #5 floated into his head like a tile in the eight balclass="underline" TRUST NO ONE. And this time it pissed Will off.

Why did my parents discourage me from making friends? Why tell me I could never trust anyone outside our family? Why work so hard to isolate me from people?

“You’re the real deal, Nick,” said Will. “I don’t know how to thank you for helping me. I mean that. I don’t know how.”

Nick seemed almost bashful. “No big thing, Chilly Will. I’m sure you’d’a done the same for me.”

“I’d want to, but I’m not sure I could pull it off,” said Will.

“You could always run for help,” said Nick with a crooked grin.

“I think I’ve got all the help I need right here,” said Will. “Nick, I’m pretty sure Todd and most of those guys are part of the Knights. I dropped mask and knights on Todd while we were talking, and he flinched like I hit him with a rock.”

“Awesome work,” said Nick, and gave Will a high five. “What’s our next move? Do we blow the whistle on these bad boys?”

“Not without proof, something that totally nails them to the Black Caps,” said Will, looking over at the lights burning in Greenwood Hall. “So we need to do something totally illegal.”

Nick got a very serious look. “I’m all over that.”

“We’re going to search Lyle’s quarters,” said Will.

They tried calling him from the house phone in the lobby. No answer. Then they knocked on Lyle’s door. “Think he’s in there?” asked Will.

“You know the old saying,” said Nick. “Keep your friends close and your enemies dead and buried in the basement.”