“Beautiful,” Brendan breathed softly.
“You can keep it,” came BLT’s tiny, grumpy voice from his coat. “Cold. Wet. Blah!” She snuggled deeper.
Brendan was looking forward to spending the day doing normal (and by normal, he meant Human) things. He hadn’t been able to set aside any time for Christmas shopping. He wasn’t really sure if Faeries observed Christmas, but he decided he would get gifts for his new family, too. That meant double the gifts that he’d had to buy last year. Luckily, he had a little extra money saved.
He took the streetcar to Queen Street West and wandered in and out of the shops, searching for the right things for everyone on his list. His dad was easy: CDs. Mum was easy, too: she always wanted some new tool for the kitchen. Delia he could fob off with a gift card at a clothing store. The real difficulty was buying for his Faerie family. What did one buy as a gift for an immortal? A tie? Some tea? Nice-smelling soap?
He searched and searched but came up empty. The sun was already going down when he headed back to the subway. He was frustrated and tired from fighting the crowds, but most of all, he was a little worried. He couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was following him. He found himself looking over his shoulder, stopping and turning around suddenly or even ducking into shops and watching the people passing by on the street. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t catch anyone tailing him. Perhaps the anxiety and pressure of the coming Challenges were making him paranoid.
He’d just decided to let go of his fears and head home on the subway when he came out onto the platform and found Charles waiting for him again.
She was leaning against a pillar, a latte in her hand, smiling.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said.
“So you were following me!”
She frowned in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Leave me alone,” Brendan said flatly, walking past her.
“But I like you,” she giggled, following him.
“Well, I don’t like you,” Brendan snarled.
“You have to get to know me,” the girl said, tossing her empty cup in a trash can. “I’m really quite fun.”
Brendan felt the rush of air that announced the arrival of the subway train. Light shone from the tunnel and the squeal of metal wheels on the tracks filled the air. He whirled, waving a finger in the girl’s face. “I’m not interested in getting to know you, and I don’t like being followed.”
Before Brendan could pull his finger away, the girl nipped his fingertip.
He yelped in pain and snatched his hand back. “You bit me.”
“It’s not polite to point!” She smiled, revealing strong white teeth.
The train arrived. Brendan stepped through the doors as they whooshed open. He turned and said angrily, “Leave me alone.”
She frowned prettily as the doors closed.
“That ain’t no way to talk to a girl.” A homeless man sitting on the train, bulging shopping bags piled around him, gave Brendan a reproachful look.
Brendan ignored him. No one else was on board so he had his pick of seats. He plunked down on a bench facing the platform, well away from the homeless man. The train started to roll. The girl jogged along until she was even with him, waving as she ran alongside. Brendan tried to ignore her. The train picked up speed. The girl kept pace, running with ease and grace. She puffed out her cheeks and pretended she was having trouble keeping up. Despite his annoyance, Brendan found her performance amusing. A small smile tugged rebelliously at the corner of his mouth.
Suddenly, she threw up her hands in alarm and dropped headlong from sight. Brendan leapt up to see if she was okay, pressing his face against the window beside the homeless man. The girl popped up and banged on the glass, scaring Brendan so that he staggered back and fell in his seat. She pointed and laughed, once again keeping pace with the train. Brendan rolled his eyes. She stuck out her tongue.
The end of the platform loomed. The girl waved goodbye and dropped back out of sight. Brendan didn’t wave back.
The homeless man had been watching the whole thing. “She can sure motor,” he said, eyes wide. “That’s some girl, there.”
“Yeah,” Brendan had to admit.
He took the subway north to Spadina. Rather than take the streetcar from the station, he decided to walk home through the softly falling snow. People were bundled up against the weather, but Brendan hardly noticed the cold. The sun was low in the grey sky.
By the time he got to what he’d taken to calling the Snoring Rock, it was already dark. Brendan came level with the black stone and found himself compelled to stop. Lately he’d avoided this place. Something about the monolith sitting in the schoolyard made him uneasy. He read the little brass plaque that decorated the stone.
THIS BASIC IGNEOUS ROCK WAS FOUND AT A DEPTH OF TWELVE FEET DURING THE COURSE OF EXCAVATION FOR THIS SCHOOL. THE COMPOSITION IS OF A VERY RARE TYPE AND IS ASSUMED TO HAVE BEEN CARRIED HERE FROM CARIBOU LAKE NORTH OF PARRY SOUND BY A GLACIER DURING THE GREAT ICE AGE 12,000 YEARS AGO.
Brendan could barely imagine the force required to transport a stone over such a distance and bury it so deep in the ground. Thinking about it made him uncomfortable, perhaps because the rock reminded him of the first terrifying and confusing day when he’d stumbled into his new life. He and Dmitri had been walking past this very spot when he’d heard the stone “snoring.” He remembered the harsh warning the stone had barked in his mind, telling him to stay away.
So why was he here? He could have easily taken another route. He stood in the yellow light of the street lamp with the snow gently falling around him, staring at the mottled black surface of the stone.
The world faded from his awareness. The surface of the stone swam before him. What at first seemed to be a chaos of bumps, gouges, and cracks began to shift and resolve into patterns. Brendan struggled to make sense of the markings, but their meaning was just beyond his perception. He felt that if he could just concentrate a little more, he’d be able to puzzle them out.
He heard a voice whispering his name. The voice was soft, insistent, and hypnotic.
Breandan.
Breandan.
I am waiting.
Breandan.
“Brendan!”
The voice was suddenly loud. Brendan came to his senses to find that he had climbed over the little fence surrounding the black rock and had laid his bare hands on its rough surface.
“Hey, Brendan!” His father stood on the sidewalk looking at him, concern plain on his face. “Are you okay?”
Brendan dropped his hands to his sides, embarrassed and confused. He didn’t remember climbing the fence and approaching the stone.
“Hi, Dad,” he said lamely, stepping back onto the sidewalk. “Where are you coming from?”
“Work. They called me in to cover a shift at the cafe. And I had to pick up some stuff your mother ordered.” He held up a couple of shopping bags. He cocked his head to the side and looked at Brendan again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah!” Brendan said. “I was, uh… I just thought I saw some graffiti tags on that rock. But it wasn’t anything. Just a shadow.” He smiled lamely.
“Oh, okay,” his father said slowly. “That’s good. All right, then, shall we go home and see what’s for dinner?”