wasn’t the reason he needed to rid himself of it. He couldn’t remember the reason right now, but he knew it was the most important thing to him in the world.
Nadia shook her head. Tears welled in her dark eyes. “Then wait. If you wait just a little while longer—”
“Wait for what?” He tried to turn to her, but she never seemed to be in the same place from moment to moment. Although Nadia never took a single step, she was near him, far, in the corner, at the door, right in front of his face—in the strange, changeable way of dreams. Why would she ever tell him to wear the thorns? “Nadia, why do I need to wait?”
“You need to wait because of these.”
She held out her wrists, and he saw, to his horror, that she wore shackles. The metal was newly forged, glowing with heat, and the cuffs were burning into her skin. Through her flesh, down to bone.
“Nadia—”
Mateo woke up, looked around, and thought, Shit. Where am I this time?
He lay on someone’s back porch—out of the rain, although he’d obviously gotten soaked on the way there. At this rate he was going to forget how it felt to be dry. Shivering, Mateo pushed himself upright and glanced around.
From the looks of things he had wandered more than half a mile inland from the beach, to the porch of someone’s yellow house. Yellow with dark green shutters: Wasn’t this the Bender place?
Great. I walked straight to the house of the loudest mouth in Captive’s Sound. If Kendall sees me, she’ll tell everyone.
Not that almost everyone hadn’t already written Mateo off as hopelessly insane—but mostly he just wanted to get home before Dad woke up. Apparently it was just past dawn, although the sky was so cloudy and dark Mateo could hardly tell. When was the last time he’d seen the sun? Seemed like days.
He was so cold. His feet and hands were numb. Mateo pressed on his toes—no frostbite, thank goodness—but the walk back in the rain was going to suck.
As he stood up, he saw the Benders’ garden shed. Maybe Mr. Bender had a Windbreaker or gardening gloves outthere. Galoshes. Something that might help. Mateo could sneak by later and put back anything he borrowed, probably before anybody knew it was gone . . .
“Mateo?”
He turned around to see Kendall Bender standing at the back door, staring at him through the glass. She wore an oversize pajama top and held a cup full of something steaming and warm, probably coffee. At any rate, she was definitely awake enough to remember this later on. It took all his strength not to swear out loud. “Uh, yeah. Hi. Sorry. I was, um, sleepwalking again. You know.”
Kendall just stared.
Mateo hated it when people thought he was crazy. He hated it most when it felt like they might be right. Standing there on the Benders’ porch, with Kendall staring at him, he felt weirder and lower and closer to the brink than ever before. Probably she would call the police at any second.
“Do you want some coffee?” Kendall asked. When he didn’t answer right away, she lifted her cup. “It’s, like, this special blend or something from South America, or maybe Central America, but it just tastes like regular coffee.”
“. . . Sure.”
He stood there shivering until Kendall returned, pushing the door open and bearing a souvenir mug from Epcot. “Here you go. Do you want a jacket? My dad is way bigger than you, but it’s not like anybody will see you. Besides me. And I’m seeing someone, so it’s not like you have to show off for me.”
“Kendall—why are you being so nice to me?”
She sighed. “Listen, like, I was talking to my mom who was talking to my dad who was talking to all these people in town, about all the freaky stuff that’s been happening, with the sickness and the fire and the flooding and all of that? And at first you think it’s bad luck, but then you start to go, like, there is a pattern here. This isn’t right. People are starting to catch on.”
Mateo couldn’t quite
Nadia shook her head. Tears welled in her dark eyes. “Then wait. If you wait just a little while longer—”
“Wait for what?” He tried to turn to her, but she never seemed to be in the same place from moment to moment. Although Nadia never took a single step, she was near him, far, in the corner, at the door, right in front of his face—in the strange, changeable way of dreams. Why would she ever tell him to wear the thorns? “Nadia, why do I need to wait?”
“You need to wait because of these.”
She held out her wrists, and he saw, to his horror, that she wore shackles. The metal was newly forged, glowing with heat, and the cuffs were burning into her skin. Through her flesh, down to bone.
“Nadia—”
Mateo woke up, looked around, and thought, Shit. Where am I this time?
He lay on someone’s back porch—out of the rain, although he’d obviously gotten soaked on the way there. At this rate he was going to forget how it felt to be dry. Shivering, Mateo pushed himself upright and glanced around.
From the looks of things he had wandered more than half a mile inland from the beach, to the porch of someone’s yellow house. Yellow with dark green shutters: Wasn’t this the Bender place?
Great. I walked straight to the house of the loudest mouth in Captive’s Sound. If Kendall sees me, she’ll tell everyone.
Not that almost everyone hadn’t already written Mateo off as hopelessly insane—but mostly he just wanted to get home before Dad woke up. Apparently it was just past dawn, although the sky was so cloudy and dark Mateo could hardly tell. When was the last time he’d seen the sun? Seemed like days.
He was so cold. His feet and hands were numb. Mateo pressed on his toes—no frostbite, thank goodness—but the walk back in the rain was going to suck.
As he stood up, he saw the Benders’ garden shed. Maybe Mr. Bender had a Windbreaker or gardening gloves outthere. Galoshes. Something that might help. Mateo could sneak by later and put back anything he borrowed, probably before anybody knew it was gone . . .
“Mateo?”
He turned around to see Kendall Bender standing at the back door, staring at him through the glass. She wore an oversize pajama top and held a cup full of something steaming and warm, probably coffee. At any rate, she was definitely awake enough to remember this later on. It took all his strength not to swear out loud. “Uh, yeah. Hi. Sorry. I was, um, sleepwalking again. You know.”
Kendall just stared.
Mateo hated it when people thought he was crazy. He hated it most when it felt like they might be right. Standing there on the Benders’ porch, with Kendall staring at him, he felt weirder and lower and closer to the brink than ever before. Probably she would call the police at any second.
“Do you want some coffee?” Kendall asked. When he didn’t answer right away, she lifted her cup. “It’s, like, this special blend or something from South America, or maybe Central America, but it just tastes like regular coffee.”
“. . . Sure.”
He stood there shivering until Kendall returned, pushing the door open and bearing a souvenir mug from Epcot. “Here you go. Do you want a jacket? My dad is way bigger than you, but it’s not like anybody will see you. Besides me. And I’m seeing someone, so it’s not like you have to show off for me.”
“Kendall—why are you being so nice to me?”
She sighed. “Listen, like, I was talking to my mom who was talking to my dad who was talking to all these people in town, about all the freaky stuff that’s been happening, with the sickness and the fire and the flooding and all of that? And at first you think it’s bad luck, but then you start to go, like, there is a pattern here. This isn’t right. People are starting to catch on.”
Mateo couldn’t quite
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