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Chapter Text

Prologue

Autumns, Foggyland

July 1939

    The echo of footsteps resonated in a stuffy, sparsely decorated office room. A man in a pristine white coat paced with restless energy. He frequently stole glances at the two portly soldiers standing guard at the door. One soldier, his porcine helmet securely fastened, stood rigid, gazing attentively at the manicured baroque garden beyond the room's window. The other, of superior rank, cradled his helmet beneath an arm while smoking a cigarette. An amused smirk deepened the lines of his double chin.

    “Doctor Andonuts,” he drawled, his thick accent emphasizing the syllables. He gestured towards a chair with exaggerated politeness. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

    The man, Dr. Andonuts, stopped and straightened his posture. A fleeting look of annoyance crossed his face. Flicking open an ornate pocket watch, he said, “I’ve been kept waiting for an unacceptable amount of time. Is the general planning to grace us with his presence anytime soon?”

    The smoking soldier offered a shrug, his self-satisfied grin still plastered on his face. Dr. Andonuts’s gaze drew to the helmets of the soldiers. Equipped with small eyeholes and elongated gas masks that gave them a swine-like appearance. It was rumored that the design was an eccentric choice by the Pigmask leader. Beyond the whimsy, the helmets had superior shrapnel and poisonous gas protection thanks to their hardened steel reinforcement. Cleverly positioned eyeholes allowed soldiers to monitor their flanks with just a subtle shift of their gaze.

    Dr. Andonuts assessed the two portly men beneath the helmets. The leaner of the two easily pushed sixteen stone, which made the doctor question their combat efficacy. Yet, the Pigmask Army had not only seized control of Autumns, but they have marched unopposed into their neighbors to the east. The Winterish Prime Minister had adopted a policy of “appeasement” towards the Pigmask leader, but that only allowed the gluttonous madman’s greed to go unchecked. Dr. Andonuts had bet a colleague back in Winters that the Pigmasks will either invade the Nowhere Islands, or an all-out war would break out on the continent before the end of the year.

    His mind then wandered to several years prior, when he became the scientific world’s darling for his wildly advanced work on bone marrow transplantation and was hailed as the man who may cure cancer. The acclaim made the world conveniently forget his earlier theses on the refinement and enhancement of the human race, which many declared as rehashed eugenics. But the Pigmasks hadn’t forgotten. They had promised funds and, more crucially, human subjects. Subjects on which he conducted experiments that would’ve landed him in prison or worse back home — though he believed it was all for the greater good. The offer to continue his life’s work, despite the obvious treason and many strings attached, was too good to turn down.

    The doctor snapped out of his reverie when the soldier flicked his cigarette to the tile floor and squashed it with his boot. The scientist made a face at the blackened mark the cigarette left on the immaculate tiles. 

    Soon after, the door swung open and a formidable, black-clad Pigmask General marched in. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted, the previously lax soldier snapped to attention, matching the stance of his helmeted comrade.

    The Pigmask General’s imposing figure stopped just short of his guest, sizing up the man. “Doctor, I trust you bring good news?”

    Dr. Andonuts adjusted his glasses and smoothed back his thinning hair. “General,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “My experiments on the Nowhere Islanders have borne significant results. The unique nature of their psychic abilities, which manifest post-trauma, holds unimaginable potential.”

    The general’s eyes sharpened, showing his intrigue, though his face remained impassive. “Go on.”

  “Specimens who survive my procedures show a wide array of powers, from telepathy to mental manipulation, and even raw destructive capabilities. I’m close to creating a genetic chimera. A super-soldier embodying every psychic trait we’ve catalogued.”

    The general nodded. “And how long before this “chimera” is ready?”

   “Soon. Very soon. But I must ask for more subjects.”

    The General’s eyes turned icy. “We have just supplied you with a new batch of Islanders two weeks ago.”

    “Whilst every Islander has the potential for psychic powers, not all have the genetic predisposition to carry more than exactly one trait.” The scientist stiffened his back. “Unfortunately, most subjects don’t make it through the procedures that combine those powers, making the selection process more arduous.”

    “And is this why you go through so many?”

    “Exactly,” Dr. Andonuts said. “A perfect subject might be out there, but we must cast a wider net.”

    The General’s gaze remained trained on the doctor. “You promised us a super soldier. The King expects results. So do I.”

    “And you’ll have them. I’m on the cusp of a breakthrough. Once I stabilize the process, I may even mass-produce these soldiers. In the meantime, I need more subjects.”

“Very well. I’ll see what can be arranged.” He lifted a finger at the doctor. “But don’t forget that His Majesty’s patience is not infinite. Don’t push your luck.”

    Dr. Andonuts pursed his lips and met the General’s glare. “Just make sure I get what I need. The rest will follow.”

    The General studied the doctor for a brief moment, then flashed him a thin smile.

    “You may be in luck, Dr. Andonuts,” he said, his voice matching the still-reptilian stare. “We may soon tap Islanders straight from the source.”

    Dr. Andonuts tried to hide his reaction, but he knew he’d failed from the General’s widening grin. An invasion of Nowhere Islands may well spill into total war in Foggyland. The General seemed to drink in the doctor’s surprise.

    “Something the matter, Doctor?” the General asked. His smile still hadn’t reached his eyes.

    Dr. Andonuts shook his head. “No. Nothing. I… I just realized that a colleague of mine apparently owes me ten quid.”

Chapter Text

Invasion

Tazmily, Nowhere Islands

August 1944

    A heavyset Pigmask commander unleashed a barrage of screaming orders at a soldier standing at attention before him. The smaller subordinate squealed and relayed the orders to the other soldiers. One of the portly officers raised a radio to his mouth to direct the convoy of armored vehicles on top of a hill facing a small town, still asleep in the dawn. Unhurried, the massive tanks turned, aiming their formidable cannons at the rows of small buildings making up the bulk of the town.

    The commander bellowed again.

    On cue, the row of tanks fired ceaselessly, unleashing hell on the town. The air trembled from the deafening barrage. The commander steadied his helmet with stout, gloved hands, shielding his ears. Once the shelling ceased, the rows of buildings that used to be the town had been reduced to smoldering rubble. The acrid stench of death hung in the air. Satisfied, the commander surveyed the destruction through his binoculars.

    This unbelievably uncivilized place, Tazmily, was the only settlement in the east of Foggyland that slipped out of the Pigmasks’ grip. A faction of rabble-rousers and saboteurs hid in this stubborn village. They had been a thorn in the Pigmasks’ side long enough that the higher-ups opted for this radical solution: raze the damned town to the ground.

    The subordinate Pigmask eyed his superior, wondering what went on his mind. The simple grunt never expected such a dispassionate look from someone ordering a battalion to destroy an entire town along with its inhabitants. The commander wore a face as rigid and cold as the steel of his helmet. Maybe that’s what earned him his title. Maybe that’s why—

    Rat-atatatatatatatat…

    Soldiers hauling chain guns aimed their crosshairs at the fleeing villagers. There were rats still scurrying beneath the rubble. The Pigmasks had to get in and exterminate them the old-fashioned way; otherwise, the rats might regroup and resist. The commander motioned for the tanks to advance. Slowly, the massive vehicles crawled on top of the cobblestone road, the slates cracking under the rolling treads.

    The tanks fired in a rapid succession of bangs, lumbering through the smog-filled air like metal monsters rising from the dead. Through the dust, silhouettes of villagers appeared. Whether they were fleeing or attacking did not matter; an indiscriminate barrage of gunfire mowed them down.

    “Infantry!” the commander signaled with a raised arm. A horde of Pigmask troopers marched into the smog. The subordinate shivered, wondering what it felt like to die first thing in the morning.

    Rat-atatatatatatatat… Boom!

    More killing.

 •  •  • 

    By noon, Tazmily lay in ruins.

    The lingering smog and dust had begun to settle, punctuated only by occasional columns of acrid smoke. All of the few buildings that made the village were obliterated. A row of Pigmask soldiers stood in what used to be the town square, their shotguns trained on a ragged row of villagers with torn clothes and soot-streaked faces. The villagers were trapped, with tanks blocking their retreat to the forest up north. Some of them were innocent civilians, some were almost certainly with the rebels. It was anyone’s guess who was which, but such trivial issues were beneath the commander. He motioned for a few soldiers to mount a large machine gun on a tripod, its muzzle facing the row of disheveled Tazmilites. Some understood their impending fate. The others did not wish to.

    “Kill them and bury them where they fall,” the commander said with a markedly bored expression. He flipped his cape and motioned for his subordinate to start the car. The soldier could not believe his ears.

    Even when the gunfire and screams filled the ruins of the town square, he could not believe his ears. He had heard tales of Pigmask brutality, but witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely. The commander sat with a straight back next to his subordinate, a satisfied smirk on his face. Meanwhile, the terrified soldier shakily started the vehicle and sped towards the Pigmask encampment.

•  •  •

    When the noise subsided and the Pigmasks retreated, what remained of Tazmily shook in fear, anger and stupefaction. A gaping pit next to the ruined town square was hastily dug and filled, but its significance was plainly obvious. Cautiously, a few surviving villagers walked through the still-smoldering debris, looking for something, anything.

    An angry flush crossed a strong-armed, goateed man’s face. Overcome with grief, he shouted curses and oaths at the retreating Pigmask troops before he collapsed to the ground, pounding his fist against the rubble. A brunette woman in a torn purple skirt knelt beside him, attempting to comfort the distraught man.

    “They murdered my son, Caroline,” he wailed. “Those swine bastards shot him!”

    “They killed Nichol… Wess… Mapson,” Caroline whispered, letting a few tears escape as she patted the man’s shoulder. The others glanced around.

    “Quiet, Lighter. I think I hear something,” a woman in an orange dress said. Lighter glared at her.

    “What are you saying?” Lighter said, his face falling into a scowl as he stood up.

    “Tessie’s right, L-Lighter,” another said, a mustached middle-aged man wearing a red shirt and a white hat. “I-I hear something too.”

    The four of them stopped to listen. A muffled noise resembling a child’s crying reached their ears. They traced the sound to some location beneath the rubble. They frantically rushed towards the source. There was indeed a soft whimper coming from underneath the rubble. They tried clawing through with their bare hands, but the rubble below them was too hot to touch. Lighter seized a cracked wooden beam that lay a few feet nearby. He tore at the rubble, using the beam to shovel it away left and right.

    At last, they dug up a pale child’s hand. A minute later, they unearthed a small, dusty blond head gasping for air. The child finally stood on his feet, hoisted by the villagers’ arms. He was in dreadful shape, tear-streaked and covered in bruises, burns and possibly broken bones, but he was alive. None knew how, but it was a miracle that this child lived. Lighter and the others clung to the boy. This child, emerging from the rubble and flames was a testament that their hometown still lived.

    This boy was Lucas of Tazmily.

 •  •  • 

    Despite living a little away from Tazmily, and despite his ceaseless coughing and hacking, Grandpa Alec was a kind man. He had a thick beard and wore large, rounded eyeglasses that obscured his eyes. He he often had to lick away his bushy white mustache when it got in the way of speaking.

    “Luke, m’boy,” Alec said, adjusting his brown hat after licking away a few wayward hairs from his upper lip. “The world is full of scoundrels.”

    They were onboard a sizable ship, cruising the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see. The vessel was called the “White Ship”, yet it was bereft of its namesake color, opting for depressing grays veiled behind rust and heavy stains. Lucas, with his arm in a sling, wore a faded jacket and jeans that were a bit too wide for his slight frame. He stared at the infinite waters with the same vacant, unfocused expression of a shellshocked soldier. Alec watched the boy as he sipped a foul-smelling liquid from a bottle that never left his person.

    “The world is full of scoundrels,” Alec repeated himself, placing a wrinkly, suntanned hand on Lucas’s hunched shoulder. “Heh, don’t you believe me, boy? I’ll pull your little ear until it gets all red. When your old grandpa says the world is full of - hic - bastards, he means it. Heck, those lousy sods think I’m just a drunken old coot, but I notice everything. Everything, I say!”

    “But Grandpa—”

    “Not a word!” Alec interrupted. “Take that madman Pigmask king. His men hunted us like - hic - wild animals, then once they’ve had their fill, they decided to burn the whole damn islands to hell. They destroyed poor Tazmily. Murdered my sweet Hinawa. Mark my words, boy. The pigs won’t rest until the last Islander is shot. They dare call me a good-for-nothing drunkard. Let the Magypsies curse me if I’m proven wrong.”

   Lucas returned his gaze to the ocean.

 •  •  • 

    Lucas was the son of Flint and Hinawa, and the twin brother of Claus. The two boys had just turned eight.

    The exact details of the past were fuzzy, remembered only through fragmented memories, Grandpa’s ramblings, and the snippets he read about the Pigmask War and the trials in the following years. He remembered playing with his twin brother, swimming in the nearby lake, and visiting his grandpa to play with the dragos. In the evenings, his mother would make them omelets for supper and lull them to sleep with bedtime stories and lullabies.

    One morning, he woke up to his mother screaming. “Tanks! They’re surrounding the village!” she cried. Not understanding the danger, he and Claus peered out the window, marveling at the large vehicles pulling up at the town gate. Unaware of the impending terror, they giggled and joked among themselves in their naïveté. In a hurry, Hinawa grabbed Lucas’s arm, took Claus’s with her other hand, and rushed out of the house after hastily packing a few items into a cloth bag slung over her shoulder.

    A heavily-accented voice boomed from a loudspeaker commanding the villagers to evacuate. In the chaos around the main square, Hinawa lost her footing and fell to her knees. She scrambled upright, still holding her twins’ hands. Their dog, Boney, trailed behind in terror. Lucas saw others, men, women, and children running in a blind panic. He saw his dad arguing with their neighbor blacksmith, Bronson, who held a large crossbow to his chest.

    “Get rid of this thing, you’ll get us all shot,” Flint snapped at Bronson, who set the bow aside after a moment of hesitation. A spray of bullets hit the ground at their feet, and everyone scattered in fear.

    “They’ve blocked the street,” Bronson shouted in panic.

    Lucas burst into tears, clinging to his mother’s dress and trembling like a leaf.

    “Shh, darling… Shh,” his mother attempted to soothe him with a trembling voice, but he only cried harder, calling for his brother. The villagers lifted their eyes and saw Claus crouching in the spot they’d just vacated as a squad of swine-headed soldiers descended on the boy. The ground shook underneath everyone with tank fire. The scared people huddled together, some prayed silently as they looked on while the children bawled…

    Then came a moment Lucas remembered with striking clarity.

    Most would describe it as, ‘I heard a loud bang, then everything went dark.’ But Lucas remembered everything, down to the heartbeat. A Pigmask soldier struck Claus with the stock of his rifle, and in a sudden fit of blind rage, Lucas broke away from his mother’s hold and started towards his twin. The universe slowed to a crawl as a shell collided with the house they hid behind with a deafening blast. The last thing Lucas saw was Claus’s horrified face as the building collapsed on top of him. He could count every brick, spark and speck of dust landing on his body, where it landed and what bruise or broken bone it caused. He clearly remembered his vision fading to darkness as he was buried beneath the rubble, the feeling of suffocation as the last bit of air disappeared. Had he lost consciousness? Maybe, but he recalled hearing the tanks screeching a few feet from where he fell.

    He should’ve died, but he didn’t. The only explanation he could come up with was that it wasn’t his time yet. For Hinawa, and Flint, their time had come one August morning, and on the evening of the same day, Lucas looked on as their caskets were lowered into their graves.

As for Claus…

In his hand, Lucas clutched the only thing the villagers had found of his twin brother: a single shoe.

Claus’s casket remained empty.

 •  •  • 

    After the destruction of Tazmily, Lucas lived with his grandpa on Mount Oriander. The sound of bullets and explosions became commonplace, and Alec grew more apprehensive and nervous with each passing day.

    “Damn it! Those swine-headed bastards will slaughter us all,” Alec told Lucas over the noise of shelling. “You’ll see, my boy. If we stay here, they’ll fashion bullets out of our eyeballs.”

    So, they fled Tazmily and the Nowhere Islands.

    “To the west, there’s a different world,” Alec told him. “A free world away from all those massacres, and I’ll be damned if they don’t take in the likes of us.”

    And that was how Lucas ended up with his elderly grandfather on a ship bound for Eagleland, bidding farewell to his home that the Pigmasks had taken.

 •  •  • 

    The days that followed on top of the White Ship were grueling. The refugees squabbled over everything, whether it was a few crumbs of food, a mouthful of water, or a spot of the ship that wasn’t covered in filth yet. Days blurred into each other during the long trip, but eventually, word came of seagulls sightings above the ship. Everyone hurried on deck, huddling together as they watched the birds sporadically appear in the foggy sky. From afar, Lucas could see massive towers cutting through the fog. One stood remarkably taller than the rest, with lights flashing from the spire at its peak. Alec placed his hand on Lucas’s shoulder.

    “Do you see that massive one in the middle? That’s the Monotoli Building,” Alec said. “Geldegarde Monotoli grew up poor, but he eventually became the richest man in Eagleland. Do you see what I’ve been telling you about this country being the land of opportunity?”

    Tears streamed down Lucas’s face. Not because of the tale of rags to riches, but from the fear that the tower might somehow topple and sink their ship. Deep down, he felt a lurching sense of unease that Eagleland might not live up to the idyllic picture Grandpa had painted. Yet there he was, a young refugee on the threshold of a new, uncertain life in Eagleland.

 •  •  • 

    From the journal of Dr. Andonuts (dated Monday, 10 April 1939):

After a prolonged series of tests, I have finally narrowed down the most effective triggers which activate the latent psychic powers of Nowhere Islanders: asphyxiation and/or severe blood loss. Although the yield remains rather low at 3.5% of subjects, and their usually poor health on arrival means that even a psychic occasionally doesn’t survive the trauma.

Chapter Text

A Few Years Later

Onett, Eagleland
October 1949

   In a middle school classroom, a group of kids sat restlessly, pretending to pay attention to the teacher in front of them.

    At the front of the room, two girls chatted, oblivious to the pranksters behind them tying their ponytails together. Towards the back, a blond boy with a distinctive hairstyle sat with an emotionless expression. Lucas, now thirteen years old, appeared cleaner and healthier but still carried an air of world-weariness.

    “It’s like the boy had to grow up far too quickly,” one of his adoptive father’s friends would say. Following the death of his grandfather Alec a year after their arrival in Eagleland, Lucas had since then been adopted by an Eaglelander couple from Onett, Desmond and Molly Jones. With his heavy drinking and frequent chest illnesses, it was a miracle Alec made it to sixty-eight years old at all.

    “…And this is why we fought the war—to save our liberty. Without it, we wouldn’t enjoy our current freedoms,” the teacher spoke, drawing Lucas back from his thoughts. The woman scanned the room, her stern gaze softened by a practiced smile. “Who would like to share their two cents about the war?” She turned and nodded at the ginger girl at the front.

    The ginger-haired girl stood up shyly. “The Pigmasks were… were evil. Papa told me that our army saved us, and all of our freedoms that the Pigmasks would’ve taken away,” she stammered.

    “Bravo!” The teacher clapped her hands daintily. “Now who else? Ah, Lucas, dear. Please stand up and tell us what you know.”

    Then something happened.

    Lucas could clearly hear the teacher speak inside his head as if she stood in a large, empty room, her echoing voice taunting him. ‘Just don’t turn it into a sob story. Can’t you move on already?’

    Seconds ago, he’d heard her scoff at the girl when she was speaking. ‘How cute. What a simpleton! Why in the world did I pick a crummy job like teaching?’

    Lucas slowly stood up, an unsure frown adorning his face. Given his background, all eyes in the classroom zeroed in on him. His teacher still looked him in the eyes.

    ‘I wonder if these Islander kids even went to school before coming here. This one surely looks out of place.’

    By the time Lucas fully stood up, his face was beet red at the barrage of insults he was hearing streaming out of the teacher. He tilted his head down and leveled a seething glare at her.

    “My family’s death isn't a ‘sob story’ meant to bore you,” he gritted out. “And we had schools in Tazmily… ma’am.”

    The woman looked stunned as if she had stepped on a live wire. The other kids nervously chuckled and some threw scolding remarks at Lucas. A tense moment passed.

    “Well I never,” the teacher said in an indignant voice that belied her dumbstruck stare. “Detention after school, young man. You need to learn some respect.”

    Lucas stared at his desk as the kids whispered noisily around him. He did not need to hear them since he knew what were they going to say.

    ‘He’s totally unhinged!’

    ‘All those Nowhere Island people are loony.’

    ‘She didn’t tell him to bring his parents. He’s an orphan with no family.’

    ‘They say Swineheads slaughtered his family.’

    ‘Poor kid. I wonder if that’s why he snapped.’

    Lucas heard their conversations with his ears and mind but found nothing to say back. Silently, Lucas sat down, casting an infuriated glare at his classmates. A bitter part of him wondered if those kids would still joke around if they witnessed their families being crushed beneath tanks.

•  •  •

    This wasn’t the first time it happened.

    Ever since Lucas arrived in Eagleland, he knew he could listen to the minds of other people. Other people were bewildered when Lucas voiced their thoughts, beating them to their own words. Slowly, Lucas realized this was his little secret, and he shouldn’t tell a soul about it. He couldn’t control it to his whim; others’ thoughts invaded his mind spontaneously, and sometimes they left him in a rare, welcome silence.

    Sure, he got perks out of it: he often found out test questions ahead of time from the stray thoughts of unsuspecting teachers. (Hey, it wouldn’t count as cheating if thoughts drifted into his head of their own accord), yet those “perks” hardly made up for the relentless exposure of thoughts. He saw the discrepancies between people’s outward appearances and their genuine, unvarnished thoughts and emotions, as if he was forced to witness others in their most vulnerable, unclothed states. This drove him further into himself, opting for listening, not talking. He always wore a scowl. The dreary look in his light blue eyes resembled that of a jaded old man.

    Lucas trudged back home, his backpack lazily slung on his shoulder. His dog, a huge Saint Bernard which Lucas insisted on naming Boney, bolted out of his wooden shelter, excited at the sight of his owner. Lucas patted his dog, giving him a small smile. Animals didn’t think in words, but they wore their emotions on their metaphorical sleeves. Whenever Lucas read Boney’s mind, he sensed a flood of sincere emotions. Adoration, excitement, happiness, sadness… Animals never hid their feelings behind masks, which was certainly a good point for them.

    After briefly playing with his dog, he walked into the kitchen to find Molly, his – adoptive – mother, already home and busy chopping vegetables over the countertop.

    “There you are, mister! The school called about the detention,” she said, pointing the carrot she’d been chopping in his direction. “You should know better than talking back to your teachers. I’ve told you not to let the dog into the kitchen. Would you go wash your hands? Look at you, you look like you just came out of a mine. How do you get yourself in all that dirt, young man?”

    Lucas didn’t answer back. He'd stopped replying a long time ago. He stepped into the bathroom to wash his hands, breathing in the chemical scent of Molly’s favorite brand of soap. According to the label, it was supposed to smell like jasmine. He drifted upstairs towards his room to set down his bag and change his clothes. He found Desmond in the garage working on his new Chevy Stylemaster. His face and arms were covered in grease and Lucas could hear Desmond’s buyer’s remorse already.

    ‘Stupid car. Just drove it off the lot, but it’s a goddamn lemon under the hood.’

    “Hey, kiddo,” Desmond said wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, not lifting his nose from the hood. “Heard your mom yelling. Did you let the dog inside again?”

    Lucas nodded. “She always yells anyway.”

    “Aw, don’t say that,” Desmond said, raising his head to give Lucas a mildly annoyed look. “She yells at you only when she has to.”

    ‘Don’t be difficult, boy. You’re a smart kid. You know she means well.’

    Between the two, Lucas preferred Desmond a little more. Unlike Molly, he gave plenty of space and didn’t feel the need to shower Lucas with attention. Still, he was always secretly proud of Lucas’s impressive grades and felt a sense of accomplishment because of them.

    The smell of gasoline and car grease in the garage made Lucas’s stomach lurch. He excused himself and walked back inside. This time he could hear Molly’s thoughts drift into his mind as she flashed him a loving smile while shuffling around in the kitchen.

    ‘Oh, darn it. Desmond forgot to buy eggs again. Guess who’s not having cake for dessert?’

    On the other hand, the couple was happily married. Desmond Jones ran a successful law firm in Twoson, a town just south from Onett, down the street from his sister’s preschool. Molly was his secretary at first, before they fell for each other and eventually got hitched. Shortly after that, doctors informed Molly she couldn’t conceive, so adoption was the only way for her to have a child to dote over once he returned home.

    ‘Bless his heart, the poor thing. That teacher ought to be fired for bringing up the war to someone like him. It’s just so tragic what he’s been through.’

    Lucas wrinkled his nose at the underlying pity in her thoughts. He retreated to his room. Like the rest of the house, the room resembled something out of a furniture catalog, if not for a shelf of heavily worn books in Islandish originally belonging to his grandfather. He opened a small drawer beneath the shelf, revealing the few fragments left from his previous life. A red neckerchief originally belonging to his father, a lock of hair from his mother, and a small, single shoe, its counterpart missing. Lucas pulled out a small sepia-colored photograph with frayed edges from the drawer. It showed the whole family. Dad, with a stoic expression half-hidden by his wide-brimmed hat. Mom, with her kind smile, and Grandpa Alec, sitting between the couple, with the twins sitting at his feet—Lucas, looking straight at the camera with a wide-eyed curious look, and Claus, glancing at his brother and fighting down a huge grin.

    His mind wandered to simpler times. Back when Mom softly whispered lullabies to him and Claus as they drifted into sleep. When he’d hide in the well in the town square with his twin, stifling giggles as Fuel and the other kids looked for them. He longed for Dad’s farm and Mom’s hand-woven clothes. He missed Claus the most. The absence of his brother felt more like a severed limb – a phantom pain lingered in the void Claus used to fill in his life.

    With a deep breath, Lucas blinked away tears from his eyes and put away the photo, forcing the memories into the farthest reaches of his mind.

•  •  •

    Most schools housed their own mob of bullies, and Pokey Minch was the tyrant atop this particular anthill. A year older than Lucas, he boasted a bulky figure with a sneer perpetually carved into his pudgy face. His blond hair often fell into his beady eyes, accentuating his upturned nose and its almost porcine appearance. His lackeys were his constant shadows, three other boys lacking in personality but similarly vile. Adults who saw Pokey predicted he would make a nasty criminal or a pretty ruthless company boss once he inherited his father’s corporations—that is, if he scraped a passing grade through school.

    Pokey had carved out a reputation as a seasoned academic failure. A history of straight Fs tethering him a year behind, an honor he wore with perverse indifference. He relished tormenting those with better academic prowess, making their suffering his own business. His father, a stinking-rich industrialist, often drew attention with obscene displays of wealth as a smokescreen against the rumors of his shambling marriage; the Minches’ fortune hardly afforded them a stable home life. Their constant, loud bickering and fighting ensured few neighbors lived near their gigantic villa. Perhaps the chaos at home sparked Pokey’s sadistic urge to torment those who led happier lives.

    Recently, Lucas had become his preferred target. For Pokey, the Islander must have been the perfect bullying victim — a reserved, overachieving little pansy. Add to that the fact he was an orphaned foreigner from some obscure village in Eastern Foggyland. All of those were irredeemable mistakes that Lucas had to pay for.

    It started fairly routine; shoving Lucas around, throwing his books on the floor, sneaking lizards down the back of his collar, or spilling ink on his head. Pokey Minch had an inexhaustible repertoire of torments for Lucas.

    Then one day, it started as a dare.

    Lucas was heading home after another long day at school when he spotted the same gang of jerks blocking his way. He immediately thought of turning back, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him run away, so he decided to walk until he was mere inches away from the portly bully, who placed his hands on his hips and smirked in malice. Lucas could imagine that smirk on Pokey’s face years later while either signing a multimillion-dollar deal or masterminding a bank heist.

    “Hey, shrimp!” A foot jutted out in Lucas’s path, almost tripping him.

    Lucas shot a silent glare at his opponent but kept his composure. He tried to sidestep them, but Pokey’s hands were faster, grabbing him by the collar. Lucas found himself hoisted off the ground, his feet hovering above the ground by a few inches.

    “What’s this, shrimp? Trying to play the tough guy?”

The other bullies copied their leader’s smirk. Lucas squirmed, trying to escape. He attempted a few clumsy punches and kicks, none landing on Pokey. The punks laughed at him.

    Pokey leaned towards the smaller boy, their noses almost touching. “Let me fill you in on something, shrimp,” Pokey’s voice dripped with menace. “I despise all of you Islander rats.”

    Lucas suddenly felt a sense of clarity. He could hear Pokey’s thoughts. An anxious voice echoed inside his head.

    ‘I have to break him. I… I have to. He seems scarily tough to crack, but my pride stops on destroying him. I gotta make him cry like a girl.’

    Lucas felt grateful for that thought. He realized that Pokey somehow feared him as much as he feared the overgrown bully. Lucas took a breath, gathered all of his strength in his fist, and aimed an astonishingly powerful punch at the other blond’s right eye.

    ‘YEOWWCH! THAT HURT LIKE A MOTHER, YOU DAMN PIG!’

    Pokey did not scream out loud. Instead, he tossed Lucas aside and gingerly felt his injured eye. He must’ve had an unnatural ability to restrain himself from screaming in pain despite all the howling Lucas could hear in his head. The only outward sign was a few controlled breaths through flared nostrils. A moment later, Pokey mentally composed himself enough to face his goons.

    “He dared to hit me, fellas!” he said. “That little punk had the gall to hit the great Pokey Minch!”

    “Haa! Hang him out to dry!”

    “Chop him up and feed him to the dogs!”

    “No, no,” Pokey sagely raised a hand. “The kid’s a feisty one. Think he’s up for a night at the McKinleys?”

    “Woo-hoo!” They cheered, a sadistic gleam visible in their eyes.

    “Oh, this will be fun”, Pokey said before backhanding Lucas, sending the shorter boy tumbling onto the ground. “And that’s for punching me in the eye, you little bastard.”

    Lucas clumsily rose to his feet, wincing as he touched his busted lip with the back of his hand. He found himself being hauled off by the scruff of his neck to the McKinleys’ house, an abandoned house at the edge of town that was the subject of hushed whispers and superstitious tales.

    Some adults passed by, but nobody intervened. They shook their heads in annoyance or uttered something like “kids these days.” Lucas’s dignity wouldn’t allow him to ask for their help. Had he told his guardians or the school principal about Pokey’s antics, the bully would have stayed out of his hair, but he wouldn’t have counted it as his victory. This was his problem, and he was determined to face it alone.

Chapter Text

Haunted House

    The abandoned house loomed at the end of the street. The boys approached the old house in brisk strides, dragging Lucas along with them.

    A high fence surrounded the property, its gate sealed with a rusted chain and a massive, heavy lock. An overgrown lawn littered with long-dead flower plants and overgrown weeds gave way to the two-story house. Its windows and doors were barricaded, showing signs of old age and neglect. After the last tenants fled the house screaming at two in the morning, no one dared to live there. The house still bore the original owners’ name: the McKinleys, who had been brutally murdered within its walls twenty years ago. It was a pretty well-known story around Onett. One day, the paperboy noticed a higher-than-usual number of milk bottles and newspapers at the front door, which meant the old couple were either away or…

     (Nighttime seemed to approach rapidly this time of the year.)

    The neighbors next door couldn’t believe the McKinleys were out of town when the paperboy casually told them so. They knew that Howard McKinley, a retired old pensioner in his seventies, had recently sprained his ankle and was practically housebound. They notified the neighborhood policeman, who went to lift up the kitchen’s window and hop into the house to investigate. What did he find?

     (“Move it, shrimp. The house awaits.”)

     The detectives determined an axe lodged in the husband’s head to be the murder weapon. The perpetrator likely snuck through the backdoor, where he encountered the wife, Jane, in the bathroom. Howard’s turn came next while he sat in the living room engrossed in a loud song on his gramophone, masking the shouting and screaming from the room next door. Howard was hard of hearing anyway. Whoever committed the crime stole nothing, pointing to either a psychopathic murderer or someone with an unlikely personal vendetta against the elderly couple. Living up to their notoriety as the country’s worst law enforcement, the Onett Police found no leads. They set up roadblocks for a few days around the house, but the case eventually went cold and was shelved indefinitely. Yet, the house refused to let the murder be forgotten.

     (“Can you open the gate, Minch?”)

     Since then, neighbors reported seeing flashing lights through the windows at night, accompanied by eerie noises. Three different families attempted to move in, dismissing the “silly ghost tales,” but all fled within days. Only the mentally unhinged dared to enter that house. The unhinged, and helpless Nowhere Islanders.

     Pokey fiddled with the lock using a short wire, then he dislodged the chain with practiced ease. He ushered Lucas and his gang in to the front porch, bathing in the glow of the setting sun. The place was disconcerting, but not yet frightening. Once night fully settled in, the house would become a nightmare for those with an overactive imagination.

     And Lucas was a perceptive kid with an overactive imagination. He knew he had a difficult night ahead of him.

•  •  •

    “Here’s how we’re gonna do it, little guy,” Pokey said, noisily chewing a piece of licorice that stained his teeth an off-putting black. “We’re locking you in here. You’ll stay alone til morning, and if you make it out sane and in one piece, we’ll let you out and concede you got guts.”

     Lucas fixed his disheveled clothes with his free arm and shot a challenging glare at the bully. “I won’t play your game. I’m going home instead.”

     “Ha!” Pokey exclaimed, spitting the licorice at Lucas’s shoe and placing his hands on his hips, making his large belly jut forward. “I always heard that Islanders were a bunch of yellow-bellied sissies. You haven’t sunk this low yet, have you? Maybe there’s some moxie behind that queer, pretty face of yours?”

     Lucas listened in on Pokey’s thoughts. ‘He won’t play ball, I know it. This is way beyond him.’

     Only then did Lucas lift his head and straightened his pose in defiance, whipping his arm free from his captor’s hold.

     “Fine. I’ll do it.”

•  •  •

     “It’s a piece of cake, Lukey-boy. There’s a low window at the back with its hinges totally rusted. It won’t budge unless forced by a few strong arms. We’ll lift it up for you to sneak in then shut it down. Your small arms won’t be enough to break it open. And don’t think about the other windows and doors, they’re barricaded from the outside.”

     “Hee hee hee.”

     “Since we’re so generous, we’ll let you take this candle and box of matches. We won’t leave you food or books to read. I don’t think you’d have time for anything but screaming.”

•  •  •

    Lucas clambered through the dusty window, cobwebs sticking to his face. He coughed and spat. Behind him, he heard the window screech as the bullies slid it shut amidst their laughter.

     “Good luck, Lucas.”

     “Don’t look behind you!”

     “Heh. Try not to fall asleep. Sleepers make an easy target!”

     Lucas could hear them laugh and taunt before they sealed the window. Through their guffawing chuckles, he caught a thought from one of them, ‘He’s trapped. At midnight we come in and scare him senseless. Just like we did to that Twosonian kid last month.’

     Inside, it was pitch black, but he patiently waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. It must be dinner time back home, and he was certain that Desmond and Molly were wondering where he’d disappeared. In the morning he would expect a slap or a , and possibly he would be grounded, but he won’t reveal the secret of this night. He had to give Pokey his word.

     Although he couldn’t shake off the cold shiver running down his spine, Lucas assured himself that ghosts weren’t real. His overactive imagination was his real enemy at the moment. It was making him see specters, and smell rotten corpses. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was finally aware of his surroundings. He found himself standing in a dusty, cobweb-infested storage room of some sort. Miraculously, that figure with outstretched arms turned out to be a hatstand, and that thing lurking in the corner morphed into an old box. Lucas stepped slowly on the creaking parquet…

     (Ugh, freaking squeaky floor!)

     …between the neglected pieces of furniture. A spooked mouse scurried in front of him to hide in a hole in the wall. He reached for the door and turned the knob, the door’s rusty hinges loudly protesting the disturbance. He found himself in a spacious room. Perhaps it was a dining or…

     (Oh gosh, what’s that smell?)

     …a living room. Lucas decided to light up his candle. After a few fumbles with the matches, a whiff of sulfur quickly filled his nose before expiring, and the shaky flame came to life.

     ‘Finally, a kind soul after all this time.’

     Lucas heard the thought in his head loud and clear, which meant there was someone around. And what did that thought even mean? For the first time since he stepped in the house, he felt a shiver creep down his spine, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his legs felt like they’d turned into paste. He advanced into the room nonetheless, sensing a presence behind him. He turned his head back, but found nothing. He walked slowly further into the dining room. He would have stayed here until morning, but his curiosity pushed him to investigate.

     ‘He’s young, but definitely brave.’

     It’s that thinking again. He cursed under his breath, eyeing the wide stain on the wall. It seemed like someone had shattered a bottle of ink on the wall, but he quickly realized it was the remains of the bloody massacre that occurred here twenty years ago.

     He felt goosebumps crawl down his arms and a knot tightened in his stomach.

     “You’re not scared. You’re not scared,” he quietly muttered to himself in Islandish. That was when an old ragtime song began playing somewhere. Lucas jumped a foot in the air.

     “You’re not scared. Y-you’re not scared!” He repeated. He won’t be scared because he was already scared. The sound came from the next room. As if spellbound, he moved over to the source of the music, the candle in his trembling hand casting terrifying shadows over everything.

     Once he stepped there, he saw the ancient gramophone on top of an even older bureau inside a large living room with a lot of furniture covered in dusty blankets. The gramophone was spinning an old record and grinding out a rough tune. 

     Lucas cursed in Islandish, nearly dropping the candle. There was a ghost in this place!

     If that wasn’t the case, then who was that old man in a housecoat, lounging on the couch and smoking a pipe?

•  •  •

    The “ghost” wasn’t a transparent specter like Lucas had imagined, but a full physical apparition, only not casting a shadow. When Lucas took a closer glance, he realized that the right temple of the man was crushed, his white hair matted in dried blood, but the ghost’s face was calm, looking at Lucas with kind and clear eyes. Lucas felt his fear ebb away. Aside from the gash in his head, the old man didn’t seem too threatening.

     ‘Step closer, Lucas, and don’t be afraid. I’m sitting and listening to the same record when… when I passed. Sorry I couldn’t stand up since my leg hurts. You know how it is.’

     “You… You know who I am?” Lucas exclaimed, despite stepping closer to the seated man.

     ‘We know lots of things. So do you, my boy. You have this unique ability that makes it easy for us to talk to you. Unlike other people.’

     “Were there other people in here?”

     ‘A lot of them, but we just spooked them so they’d leave us alone. It is tough to be cursed to sit here until the end of the world, then having to deal with nosy folk. One can’t have that after death. I’ll tell you, I detest crowds.’

     It occurred to Lucas that the man looked way too real, not the transparent appearance he imagined from comics. If he could ignore the crushed half of Howard’s head, he’d look like any retired old man.

     Then, from the kitchen entered a woman, wearing an apron stained with specks of dried blood. There was only a jagged stump where her neck should have ended with a head.

     ‘Howie? Do we have a guest?’ her voice somehow boomed in Lucas’s head.

     ‘Not just any guest, Jane. We usually don’t welcome guests, but this boy is different. He can help us.’

     “H-help you? How?” Lucas said, backing up a step.

     ‘Of course. Ghosts are scary, but besides appearing before mortals, shrieking, or rattling furniture, we can do little else. We were murdered, Lucas. Hideously so. You seem to know a lot about death despite your young age.’

     “I… I do,” Lucas whispered, looking down at the ground.

     Jane stepped closer. Her severed head materialized from the pocket of her apron as she put it back on her neck. With her head on, she looked like anyone’s grandmother. ‘We made a deal with the universe, son. As long as our murderer remained alive and scot-free, we refuse eternal rest. We will roam this house until our murderer is brought to justice.’

     “Then… Is your killer still alive?”

     Jane threw him a melancholic smile. The cut in her neck seeped blood to soak the dusty wooden floor. Lucas thought this may have been due to her remembering painful memories.

     ‘Yes. He is a mad cutthroat called Everdred. When he murdered us he was a truck driver moving all around the country. He never stopped murdering for pleasure, but he learned how to hide his victims so the police never found them. He is responsible for over thirty missing people.’

     Lucas sat on a couch, not caring about the thick layer of dust covering it. He glanced at the candle’s dancing flame, thinking about how surreal it was to have a casual chat with the ghosts of a married couple who perished two decades ago.

     “Why didn’t you do anything, since you know where he is?” He asked. The gramophone’s record finished.

     ‘We told you, there’s little we can do,’ Jane echoed as she slid to the gramophone and put on a new record, ‘By now, Everdred is used to the ghosts of his victims. They no longer faze him.’

     “Where is he now?”

     ‘Twoson. He’s fifty-five now and in good health. He runs the flea market there and is always on the lookout for his next axe victim.’

     “How can I help?”

     ‘We’ll tell you how.’

     “Of course,” Lucas said, listening to the old song playing. “I’m happy to help, but I need to ask a favor of you first.”

     ‘Ask us anything.’

     “The bullies who locked me up in here are coming back at midnight for a reason I don’t know. They want to do something to me that they’d done to some kid before. Were they here last month?”

     Lucas heard Howard’s voice in his head. ‘Ah, yes. They’ve done it three times already. Those rascals don’t believe in ghosts, and they occasionally drag an unfortunate child here and force him to spend the night, then at midnight they come and scare him. I’ll say, they scare ’em good.’

     Jane nodded in empathy, ‘When they brought that poor boy last month, they placed a sack over his head and hung him from the ceiling with a hook, then hit him with sticks. The boy thought ghosts were beating him. How cruel!’

     ‘In the morning, they set him free,’ Howard added, ‘By then, panic and fear must have broken the little wretch. All the kids kept quiet, so nobody knew about his night here.’

     Lucas pursed his lips. “And you two don’t interfere?”

     ‘We don’t care about silly boys’ antics. We care more about families moving in the house or homeless squatters sneaking in.’

     “But that’s cruel.”

     ‘When someone lops your head off with an axe, such things become hardly cruel for you, boy,’ Jane chastised. 

     Lucas stood up and dusted himself off, an idea began forming in his head. “Mr. and Mrs. McKinley, I need your help to put those punks in their place,” he said, a diabolical grin forming on his lips. “And I have just the plan.”

•  •  •

    At midnight, four silhouettes stalked in front of the McKinleys’ house, the leader held a small flashlight while the others carried full bags. Pokey led the pack like a Pigmask commander parading through a conquered town. He was bent on scaring Lucas like he’d never been scared before. Tonight, Pokey vowed to make that little Islander piss. his. pants.

     “P-Pokey, I’m scared,” one of the underlings said from behind.

     “Shut up, you idiot. How would you scare him when you’re scared?”

     “It’s… darker than usual out here. It’s like the trees are listening.”

     “Oh yeah? Up yours, trees,” Pokey snapped, toying once again with the lock. The four of them scuttled across the lawn. Led by the flashlight, they waded through the darkness towards the hole in the kitchen Pokey had discovered and hid with a panel of wood. That way, they could sneak into the house with minimal noise.

     Pokey shrugged off his jacket. “Got the blanket?” he asked a greasy-haired boy.

     “Yeah. Got the werewolf head too.”

     “Where’s the rubber skull?”

     “Here,” Another boy replied, punctuating his response with the pop of his chewing gum. “The red light and chains are with me too.”

     “Right.”

     “Good. I got the sticks and ropes here,” Pokey said, then glanced at his minions. “I want you to do your worst. Make Papa Pokey proud of y’all. Let’s roll.”

•  •  •

    They lit up the red light while Pokey wore the werewolf mask. At the same time, the tallest lackey draped himself in a white blanket as the greaser kid helped him fit a rubber skull on top of his head.

     “How do we look?”

     “Horrifying.”

     Guided by the red light that cast eerie shadows on everything, Pokey led the group…

     (Ugh, freaking squeaky floor!)

     …to the storage room. Lucas was undoubtedly hiding here, scared out of his wits. They shook the metal chains just like the spectral characters in the movies.

     There was nothing. The house was dark and quiet.

     “Where is he?” Gum guy said, sweeping his flashlight across the room.

     “Let’s split up,” Pokey said, his voice muffled behind the mask. “Each one of us looks in a room. And please spit that out before I punch your teeth in.”

     The bullies split up, not forgetting to utter muffled ‘Boo’s and ‘Hoo’s in a macabre, low tone. The kid with the rubber skull was the first to walk into the living room. There, he saw Lucas curled up next to his candle on the sofa, looking like a forlorn, lonely animal. From behind the blanket, He grinned maniacally, advancing slowly towards the body splayed on the sofa. He twisted, adopting the jerky movements and wails a ghost supposedly made. He knew he’ll look frightening from the dim candlelight because low-level light was supposed to give off a demonic effect. The head rose up slowly. The right side was totally shattered and covered in matted blood.

     Too late, he realized this was not Lucas.

•  •  •

    Pokey moved upstairs, peering from the two small holes in the mask eyes, aided with a small flashlight, because the kid with the red light was searching another room. No sign of any Islander brats in this room.

     (Damn, I’m sweating like a pig in this getup)

     The study was dusty and empty. He tried another room to find an elderly woman blocking his way. Confused, he backed away slightly. The woman looked startled.

     “Heavens to Betsy. You surprised me, young man,” she said, putting a hand to her chest. “Why are you wearing such scary clothes?”

     “Wh-who are you?” He said, feeling dread pool in his stomach.

     “Well, who are you? Where did you get that mask from?”

     “I’m Pokey,” he said dully, taking off his mask. “This werewolf head is just for a prank.” He lifted the mask off of his head to present it to her.

     (Something isn’t right. Who is this old lady?)

     “Oh? That’s nice, Pokey.” The old woman gave him a kind smile and grasped her grey locks. “Because this head is also for a prank.”

     She said that and plucked her head clean off of her shoulders.

•  •  •

    The greaser shuffled in a different room, rattling the metal chains behind him, a flashlight stuck in his mouth shed its faint light on the surroundings.

     “This place is really scary,” he murmured to himself. “No wonder people think it’s haaaaaaaaunted!” He screamed at the last part, dropping the light from his mouth when he saw a skull staring him down. Oh, that was one of them. Th-Thank goodness. That was a pretty nifty costume they came up with. This meant the blond twerp was elsewhere. He picked up his flashlight, silently wishing if Pokey would call the prank off and let them go home already. He was tired.

     “You look scary as hell buddy,” he said, yawning. “Found anything?”

     No response.

     “S-Say something, man. I’m scared already, and you’re not helping-”

     Still no response.

     Curiosity piqued, he approached the blanket. It wasn’t the clean white one they’d brought; it was old and heavily stained. He remembered that detail just as he lifted the blanket to see what lay beneath.

•  •  •

    Near the living room, the gum-chewing boy held his red-tinted flashlight. He popped another piece of chewing gum into his mouth and glanced around casually. He’d never admit it, but he always chewed gum to mask his terrible breath. And it added a layer of nonchalance that seemed to fit his “rebellious” aesthetic.

     Stepping into the living room, he noticed something horrifying. Pokey and the others were sprawled across the dusty couches, looking more dead than alive. His pulse quickened as he rushed over to examine them. He was shining his red light over them when he sensed a presence next to him. Turning, he saw an old man in a housecoat, with the better part of his skull crushed, the hair on the side of his head matted with clotted blood. He gasped, and the piece of gum lodged itself in his throat. The old man pointed towards the front door, wearing a stern scowl on his face.

     “These are your friends, aren’t they? Leave my house now, and never come back!” He bellowed with an otherworldly boom.

     The boy never knew what happened.

     He could only recall dragging his two buddies by the arm. Pokey stumbled along behind them towards the front door that suddenly flew open. They were eventually swallowed by the darkness.

     It was finally silent again, save for the hysterical laughter spilling from Lucas as he emerged from his hiding spot. He had taught the bullies a harsh lesson. Perhaps a little harsher than necessary, because hours later, a police patrol would find them wandering aimlessly in the streets, and their interrogation would conclude that they had partial amnesia, so nobody knew where they were and what were they doing at that time. Pokey and his cohorts just got the scare of their lives.

     Howard limped back to his seat. ‘Now, Lucas. It’s your turn to help us.’

     “I’m all ears.”

     ‘You will have to notify the Twoson authorities of the man’s name. Everdred. You won’t forget his name, will you?’

     “I won’t.”

     Jane placed her head back on her shoulders. ‘We shall tell you where he buried his victims, and you must inform the police. They have unidentified fingerprints. You’ll need to tell them his name, current location and job.’

     “That won’t be difficult,” Lucas replied. It was time to bid them farewell. He realized the two ghosts would leave this world forever once Everdred is apprehended. Jane smiled warmly at him and wrapped her arms around him.

     ‘You are one of a kind, Lucas. You could see into people’s souls and contact spirits like us. It can be a blessing, but your ability is a dangerous one. I pray you will overcome whatever hardships it will bring you my dear.’

     Lucas would’ve leaned into the hug if she had a tangible body. He remembered the way his mother would hug him and his twin like that. He smiled widely and nodded, feeling warmth seep into his chest. Suddenly, something awakened in his mind, like an epiphany. He ignored the feeling for the moment and waved at the couple, giving them one last heartfelt smile, before taking his leave.

Chapter Text

Sunflowers and Cornflowers

September 1950

    Lucas jolted awake, his breath caught in a startled gasp. Wide-eyed, he gazed into the dim room, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He willed himself to take a deep breath, then ran a shaky hand over his sweat-drenched forehead, before sinking back into his pillow, grimacing at the damp feeling seeping into the back of his neck.

     For the sixth or perhaps the seventh time in a row, the same vivid nightmare shook him awake. By then, he half-expected to will himself to wake up once he saw that sunflower field and heard the sound of tank treads, but it always felt as if he’d never seen the nightmare before.

     Trying to disentangle himself from the sheets, he pushed himself up to sit upright. A glance at the wall clock showed it was almost six in the morning. It was a Saturday; the streets outside were blissfully quiet. He got out of his pajamas and changed into his everyday clothes. After splashing his face with water and hurriedly preparing a thermos of coffee, he pulled on his sneakers.

     Lucas decided to spend a quiet moment in his garden. He had transformed a small corner of the backyard into a vibrant patch of sunflowers and cornflowers. He stepped outside, taking in the crisp morning air. He knelt beside the flowerbeds and pruned a few wilted leaves, rearranged some blossoms and watered the soil. He picked a few flowers and carefully arranged them into a delicate display in a flowerpot. Satisfied, he picked up his creation and headed back inside, placing it in the middle of the coffee table in the living room. He headed back outside and whistled for his dog.

     Every Saturday, Lucas would head to the hills north of Onett with Boney at his side. The pair left their front yard and walked through the still-sleeping town, threading their way through the tranquil main street and closed storefronts. Lucas had gotten used to the town’s early morning tranquility, finding the stark contrast to the usual bustle comforting. He paused at a public message board to skim through its contents.

CAUTION - A black van driven by this guy has been spotted racing recklessly through town. Be careful!

    Attached was a photo of a man wearing an eye mask and a bowler hat. Lucas shrugged; there were no rogue drivers at this ungodly hour.

     They continued their journey, passing the town library and moving towards a path that wound its way through a wooded area. They passed a small house and sped up as they approached the path that led to the Minches’ villa. Even Boney whined at the sight of it, seemingly repulsed by its presence. A half-hour walk later, Lucas found himself atop the highest point in Onett: Meteorite Hill. Settling on the cliff edge with Boney at his side, Lucas surveyed the sweeping view of the still slumbering town, Boney's head propped on his thigh. It was an especially clear morning, and he could see for miles—the view extended all the way to neighboring Twoson.

     He resented the way Onett could pass for a more developed Tazmily. He could almost imagine that the small, wood-paneled house he’d passed as his old family home if it was unpainted, and the placid ocean mirrored the sea from his memories. Thankfully, trees and cliffs obscured the Minch house, sparing him the eyesore. A smirk crept on Lucas’s face as he remembered how Pokey and his cohorts had given him a wide berth since the incident at the McKinley’s.

     His gaze drifted towards the spot where the haunted house used to stand, before the city decided to demolish it months ago. The memory of chatting with the ghost couple felt like yesterday. It’d been almost a year since his letter, filled with damning evidence against a flea market huckster named Al Everdred, led to the arrest of the serial killer. The event made national headlines, but the author of the letter with slanted handwriting remained a mystery. Lucas felt a sense of relief knowing Howard and Jane had found their eternal rest.

     Lucas’s psychic powers had grown considerably since his encounter at the McKinleys’ house. He discovered he could manipulate small objects with his mind and conjure glowing blue-green shapes. But along with these new abilities, his mind-reading had grown increasingly sensitive and less controllable. Some days he could block the thoughts around him, granting him some peace. But more often than not, the thoughts of everyone nearby bombarded his mind, the cacophony threatening his sanity, forcing him to withdraw from people.

     Sipping his coffee, he watched as the small town slowly stir from its sleep, savoring the fleeting moments of peace before the day started.

•  •  •

    Lucas returned home by midmorning. He led Boney to the doghouse in the front yard and set a bowl of water down for him. He gave Boney a few pats and a promise of treats later. At the entrance, Lucas toed off his shoes, placing them in their usual spot. An unexpected visitor waited for him in the living room: a girl sitting comfortably by the radio set, examining the flowers he’d put together earlier.

     “Cousin!” Paula - Desmond’s niece - greeted, her smile brightening upon seeing Lucas.

     “Hi, Paula,” he said, returning the smile. “What brings you here?”

     At first, Lucas disliked how Paula always called him “cousin.” He had a hard time counting his adoptive parents as family, let alone their relatives. Yet Paula was refreshingly transparent. With her, there was little guesswork, no disparity between her thoughts and words, and that made her all right in his book. They hit it off pretty well back in the days where Desmond and Molly left him at her mom’s preschool, but now he was old enough to stay home and wait for them to come home. It was a pity she lived in Twoson and started high school last year, limiting how often they saw each other.

     He studied her for a moment. She had long abandoned the childish ribbons and frilly pinks she used to wear. These days, she chose to wear sophisticated swing dresses, cinched at the waist, in elegant pastels. Her blonde hair, styled in a Pageboy cut, cascaded just to her shoulders, and a pair of polished kitten heels rounded off her look.

     “Mom and Uncle Desmond are attending a wedding reception in Threed. I came along to see you,” she said. He looked at her quizzically.

     “What for?” he asked, sitting beside her. Paula swiveled to face him. Her thoughts gave him an inkling of what she had to announce. His eyes widened. No way!

     “I figured I’d beat the mailman today,” she said, her voice filled with excitement, before producing a letter and handing it to Lucas. “It was Uncle Desmond’s idea, and Mom made a few calls. Guess who just got into the best school in Northwestern Eagleland?”

     Lucas broke the seal of the envelope, pulling out the folded paper inside. He skimmed the opening lines, and his lips parted in genuine surprise. Looking up at Paula, a small smile curved his lips. “Looks like we’ll see each other more often.”

     Paula nodded, grinning back. “I think it’s fantastic news. The bad news, well at least for you, is that I’m planning to introduce you to my friends there.”

     “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, fidgeting with the envelope in his hands. “You know I’m not a people’s person. They might think I’m a weirdo.”

     “Aw, shush,” Paula said, patting his knee. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

     “I just don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

     “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Besides, why would you embarrass me? It’s not like I’m ashamed of you being my cousin.”

     Lucas searched her face and, despite his best effort not to, her thoughts. She genuinely believed he’d click with her friends just fine.

     “Alright, I’d be happy to meet your friends,” he said. “Let’s hope this isn’t a train wreck in the making.”

     Paula laughed. “Don’t be silly. Now come on, I saw the flowers you planted in the backyard. You’ve gotta tell me how you make them look so pretty.”

     They spent the rest of the day together, laughing and teasing each other like the family they were supposed to be. When Lucas saw Paula off, he was left alone with his thoughts. Despite the nervous knot gnawing at the pit of his stomach, he tried to look forward to a fresh new beginning at school and meeting Paula’s friends.

•  •  •

    Lucas navigated the school corridors with a cautious sense of optimism. The vast building dwarfed his previous school, so he busied himself with finding the right classrooms and going through the motions until he spotted Pokey’s bulky figure somewhere in the crowd. He’d hoped middle school graduation was the last he'd seen of the bully, but it seemed that even Pokey could eventually graduate middle school. Lucas managed to steer clear of any unwanted attention during the first day of high school, but when the lunch bell rang, Paula promptly marched him to the school cafeteria. As he fumbled with his food tray, she led him to a table filled with her friends. He took a deep breath, reminding himself he’d be alright and walked over to the table. Paula wasted no time launching into introductions.

     “Everyone, this is Lucas,” she announced. He nodded in acknowledgment, eliciting a round of greetings from them. “Lucas, meet my friends — this is Nancy, Paige, and Holly,” Paula continued, pointing at each girl in turn. As Lucas gradually relaxed, the lunch break became fun. It turned out that like Lucas, Nancy, and Paige also had a fondness for gardening, while Paula and Holly led the book club. As they bonded over their shared interests during lunch, Lucas began to feel more at ease. Maybe he had worried for nothing.

     His thoughts were interrupted when another boy approached their table. Suntanned, with short, dark hair peeking from beneath a red baseball cap, his eyes radiated a playful kind of confidence as he leaned on the table and beamed at them. “Well, isn't my day suddenly looking up? Hi, ladies.” He winked at Paula. “Hey there, Paula.”

     “Oh, hello yourself, Ness,” Paula replied with a laugh, clearly not taking him seriously. Lucas felt an uninvited smile creep onto his face as he inadvertently picked up on Paula’s thoughts. Playing hard to get, it seemed. His amusement quickly faded when the boy’s gaze shifted to him.

     “Say, who’s the fresh face?” the boy said, nodding towards Lucas.

     “Ness, that’s my little cousin,” Paula interjected before Lucas could answer. “I told you about him before. He’s starting high school today.”

     “Paula’s cousin, huh? Nice to meet’cha. I’m Ness,” he said, offering a broad grin and a hand to Lucas, who awkwardly shook it. Ness slid into a chair at the head of the table between Paula and Lucas.

     “I don’t reckon I’ve seen you before,” Ness said, propping his chin on a hand and observing Lucas curiously. “Did you just move into town?”

     “No, I’ve lived here for a while. I was in Onett’s middle school before.”

     “Makes sense,” Ness said, giving him a once-over. “I would've remembered seeing you around. So tell me, Blondie. What do you do for fun?”

     “Well, I, uh, I like gardening and reading,” Lucas stammered, his eyes darting to the girls for support.

     “You should see the flowers he grows in his backyard,” Paula chimed in. “They’re simply amazing.”

     Ness eyed Lucas thoughtfully. “Really? I’ve never been much of a green thumb. Always ended up killing the few plants I had. What kind of flowers are we talking about?”

     “Sunflowers and cornflowers at the moment,” Lucas said, surprised to see attention and interest in Ness’s eyes. “They started blooming early this summer.”

     Ness leaned back, nodding. “Impressive. Kudos, man. I couldn’t even keep a cactus alive.”

     “That’s because you kept the poor thing under your desk,” Paula said with a laugh. “You don’t know the first thing about taking care of plants.”

     Ness flashed her a grin. “Guilty as charged.”

     Throughout the conversation, Ness continued peppering Lucas with questions. How do you like the school? What music do you listen to? I like your hair, are you using product to style it like that? Lucas squirmed, unused to the attention, especially from a stranger. The ‘Blondie’ nickname grated on his nerves somewhat, and he didn’t know what to make of Ness’s curiosity. As if sensing Lucas's growing discomfort, Ness was considerate enough to back off and steer the conversation to a different topic. To his surprise, Lucas couldn't hear Ness’s thoughts despite the mental chatter from everyone else. This made him pause, trying to understand why Ness was an exception. He tried again, concentrating on Ness's thoughts, but it was like trying to tune into a silent radio station. The quiet was unnerving. It had never happened before.

     “So how about sports, Blondie?” Ness asked, snapping Lucas out of his thoughts. “You play anything?”

     Lucas shook his head. “Not really. I’m not much of a sports person.”

     “That’s a shame,” Ness said with a smirk. “I was looking for new players. Drop by the ballpark sometime, maybe I can change your mind.”

     “We’re not all baseball fanatics like you,” Nancy said teasingly. “Maybe he can teach you something a little more classy and refined.”

     “I’ll bet,” Ness said, nudging Lucas's shoulder and giving him a wink. “You’re more in touch with your feminine side, aren’t you, Blondie?”

     The girls giggled and Lucas felt heat color his cheeks. Without the ability to read Ness’s thoughts, he couldn’t tell whether the other boy was mocking him or not. The unfamiliar ambiguity threw him off but he kept his voice level as he scowled, looking Ness in the eye. “What does that even mean?” he said, his voice coming out sharper than intended. “Does it mean I must start wearing dresses and lipstick just because I’ve got different interests?”

     Ness blinked. The surly reply seemed to have taken him by surprise. “Huh? Of course not, I—”

     Lucas cut him off, already on the defensive. “I don’t get Eaglelanders and your constant obsession with dividing everything into boy boxes and girl boxes. Why does it matter that I like tending to flowers? I think there’s something really rewarding about watching something grow because of your care. It doesn’t have to be a sports thing or a guy or girl thing. It’s just… nice, you know?”

     Not breaking eye contact, Lucas tried searching Ness’s thoughts once more. Silence again. It was Ness’s turn to squirm in his seat, sheepishly averting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just joking around.”

     There was a heavy pause. Holly busied herself with her nails, Nancy and Paige exchanged uneasy glances, while Paula took a long sip from her drink as she watched the two boys. Lucas didn’t need to read everyone’s thoughts - sans Ness - to know that he’d thoroughly ruined the mood.

     Lucas felt extremely self-conscious. “I… I should go,” he said, abruptly standing up. “It’s been great meeting you all. I’ll see you folks later.”

     He practically ran from the table, leaving behind bewildered stares. Paula slammed her drink on the table, making everyone jump a little.

     “Ness, you absolute jerk!” she snapped, before standing up and taking off after her cousin.

     Paula’s friends exchanged glances before they all fixed Ness with a stern stare. He bristled under the disapproving looks from the girls, his demeanor quickly shifting to one of defense. “What? Don’t give me that look, you all laughed too,” he said, his gaze following Lucas and Paula as they left the cafeteria. “…I was just trying to get to know the guy. Honest. I didn’t mean to upset him,” he muttered, sounding as if he was trying more to reassure himself than the others.

     The girls were having none of it. Ness sighed and slumped in his chair. “Guess I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Chapter Text

    Acrid smoke stung Lucas’s eyes.

     He coughed and hacked as the smoke clogged his lungs and seared his throat. With an arm shielding his face, he navigated the haze with hesitant steps.

     Where am I?

     The bleak landscape looked familiar, but he had never witnessed so much ruin. Not since…

     Tazmily.

     Lucas hunched over, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling incredibly lost as a surge of terror gripped him.

     Mom… Dad… Claus… They are all—

     ‘Dead?’

     A voice much like his own completed from behind him. He spun around to look at the pillars of ruin, and saw Claus, as young and small as the last day he saw him alive, standing amid the destruction.

     ‘Why did you leave me behind?’ Claus’s small figure trembled with anger and hurt. ‘Why couldn’t you save me?’

     Lucas wanted to respond, to reach out, to throw himself at his brother’s feet and beg for forgiveness, but he failed to move as if his body had turned to lead. The ground shook under the rumble of tanks barreling into the ruins, and a platoon of Pigmask soldiers appeared from the distance, closing in at an alarming speed. Fresh tears spilled down Claus’s cheeks. ‘Don't go, Lucas. Please don't leave me here!’

     Then it happened again.

     A huge explosion overhead, and rubble cascaded on Lucas, plunging him in suffocating darkness as the ground beneath him caved. He screamed his brother’s name and clawed at the brick and stone to reach Claus, just out of reach. His fingernails cracked and the skin of his fingers began to peel away, yet the pain only propelled his fevered digging. He stopped and screamed once the flesh had stripped from his fingers, revealing bones smeared with dust and red.

     Lucas’s eyes shot open. The scream that had torn from his throat in his dream emerged as a strangled whimper, his body remaining trapped in an unseen vise. An invisible oppressive weight on his chest pinned him to the bed, pressing the air out of his lungs. Faint colors swam in his vision, and a sharp ringing buzzed in his ears. In his mind’s eye, the heaviness on his chest transformed into the rubble that had once pinned him down. The taste of dust filled his mouth, suffocating and gritty. He could hear the distant squeal of tank treads, and for a moment, he was back there under the ruins of Tazmily, trapped and alone. It felt like ages before he finally broke free of his sleep paralysis, hauling himself onto wobbly legs. 

     He fell back onto his bed at first, then gathered his strength, stumbled toward the bathroom and leaned heavily against the sink. There, he stared at his hands. Soft, unblemished skin. Thin wrists and slender fingers ending in short, well-trimmed nails.

     He turned on the faucet and tilted his head under the stream of cold water. Feeling a little calmer, he straightened up and watched the water stream off his hair, down his face and neck in small rivulets. He rested his forehead against the cool mirror, watching his breath fog up the glass.

     “Am I going crazy?” he wondered out loud, unsure of the answer.

•  •  •

August 1944

Autumns, Foggyland

    Dr. Andonuts suppressed a sigh and checked his pocket watch for the umpteenth time, trying his best to follow the prosecutor’s droning speech. Thirty-nine minutes so far. He’d reluctantly accepted the invitation to attend this court-martial of Islander rebels at the General’s insistence. He suggested that the doctor should “scout” the prisoners for potential test subjects, despite explaining that no, it does not work that way, General. I can’t bloody divine an Islander’s potential to be a viable psychic. We’ve been over this already.

     He couldn’t help but find the whole affair tiresome and detached from the Pigmasks’ dismal performance on the frontlines at the moment, but chose to hold his tongue. He watched the show trial play out as the prosecution presented its charges. The defense attorney, looking the very picture of concern, was absently tracing the Pigmask insignia on the corner of the letterhead in front of him. To his left, a disheveled, sweaty assistant gaped with open-mouthed fascination at a pretty young lady seated in the front row of the courtroom benches.

     Dr. Andonuts cast a glance at the men and women inside the wire cage in the center-back of the room, cataloguing their various ailments and injuries. They ran the gamut from scrapes, burns to gunshot wounds that were all haphazardly treated enough for them to stand upright. He quietly hoped the pockmarks and scabs on that woman’s face were burns, not pox. A strong-armed, goateed man in the corner of the cage looked as if his face had repeatedly found its way in the path of Pigmasks’ fists and boots.

     The trial dragged on with the pace of a badly written play where every actor seemed to relish in the sound of their own voice, especially the prosecutor, a remarkably corpulent officer whose front jacket drooped with medals. Dr. Andonuts could vaguely understand the bored contempt on the officers’ faces. The Nowhere Islanders were a breathtakingly backward people. The rustic clothes and ample signs of abject poverty must have made them wonder why the Pigmasks bothered occupying such a race of simpletons in the first place.

     Dr. Andonuts knew better. Some of these caged peasants might be the most powerful and dangerous humans alive if the conditions were right. He wished he could actually find a way to detect predisposition to wielding psychic powers. An automatic analyzer, perhaps? He sketched out a rough schematic on an envelope in front of him as the defense attorney mumbled a handful of flaccid words, before announcing that the defense rests. Andonuts checked his pocket watch again. The defense’s speech lasted four minutes altogether. An impressive one-tenth of the prosecutor’s speaking time.

     His attention snapped back to the cage when the battered man in the corner staggered to the front of the cage. Clutching the bars, he stuck his head through the gap.

     “Look at us. Just look at us!” he cried out, addressing the court in heavily accented Autumnish. “I had to bury my own son, and I buried my best friend and his wife, right after digging out their son from the rubble.” He lifted a finger, pointing it at the stunned audience. “Mark my words, you swine-headed bastards, we will prevail. Even if you kill us, our wrath shall hunt each one of you to the ends of the Earth.”

     He spat on the floor and turned to his fellow captives with a raised fist. The prisoners erupted into shouts and cheers for Tazmily’s freedom as the guards swiftly moved to remove them from the court. The judge and prosecutor exchanged a look, the latter drawing a finger across his throat. The judge nodded.

     The spectacle failed to hold onto Dr. Andonuts’s attention any longer. He stood up and excused himself. Stepping outside the courthouse, he paused and sniffed at his sleeve. A look of distaste crossed his features at the lingering scent of tobacco that clung to his coat. He brushed at his sleeve as if trying to physically brush off the unpleasant smell.

     Outside the front entrance, he spotted one of his top assistants, Dr. Fellner, engaged in conversation with a military officer. Fellner was an Autumnish woman with a relaxed attitude and a lack of formality that made her stick out even more among the largely male population of Pigmask scientists.

     Andonuts’s gaze fell on a small figure beside the officer — a young Islander boy, no older than eight or nine, clad in a striped prisoner’s uniform. The child’s right wrist was handcuffed to the soldier and his ankles were in shackles, which struck Andonuts as excessive. The boy’s soft features and ginger hair lent him an almost cherubic quality, if not for the various bruises and cuts marring his face and neck, and the intense hatred that burned within his light blue eyes as he glowered at his captor.

     Dr. Fellner caught Andonuts’s eye and waved at him. “Doctor! You must hear about this fascinating boy.”

     Curiosity piqued, Dr. Andonuts approached and threw an inquisitive look at the officer, a burly, timid-looking Lieutenant who stood as far away from the boy as the handcuffs would let him.

     “We caught this boy in Tazmily,” the officer said. “He was a terror on the field. He stole a combat knife from one of our men and stabbed him with it. It took two soldiers to pin him down and even then, one of them lost part of his ear in the scuffle.”

     Dr. Andonuts let out a low whistle, his eyes fixed at the boy. “Is that right, boy?”

     The child remained silent, holding the doctor’s gaze for a moment before looking away.

     “He hasn’t spoken or put up any resistance since we captured him,” the Lieutenant added almost sheepishly.

     “This Bub here is behind the only casualties in our otherwise clean takeover of Tazmily,” Dr. Fellner said with a sardonic smile. She reached out and tousled the boy’s hair. “You’re Tazmily’s finest rebel, aren’t you, you plucky little shit?”

     The boy ducked from under the woman’s hand as if she were diseased. She clicked her tongue and faced the Lieutenant. “I heard about rebels who were shot for less, and this boy filleted one soldier and maimed another. Why is he still alive?”

     The Lieutenant shrank. “Well, uh, he’s a child, ma’am. I just couldn’t… I thought it was best to let the higher ups decide what to do with him.”

     “I suppose he’s one lucky kid to have run into you,” She said dryly then shrugged. “All the same. He’s probably going to face a firing squad for what he’s done nonetheless.”

     Dr. Andonuts eyed the boy, rubbing his chin. “Or this could be a lucky turn for us. We should take this boy and add him to our collection of test subjects.”

     Fellner rolled her eyes. “We’ve already got a very promising Prototype back at the lab—one of our own people no less, already carrying all the traits we’ve logged from the Islands. What’s one more Islander kid to our research?”

     “I’ve a strong hunch. This child,” he said, pointing to the boy, “may be something we haven’t seen just yet. If I’m right, he could be another Prototype for us. One more candidate for a super-soldier.”

     Fellner looked the boy up and down, crossing her arms. “All right, doctor. Let’s hope for his sake that you’re right.”

     The Lieutenant shifted on his feet. “But ma’am, shouldn’t he be tried first? Aren’t there procedures—”

     Dr. Fellner clapped the Lieutenant on the shoulder, cutting him off. “Ah, you see, our little comrade never made it to this city to begin with. Here’s what you’ll do. If the brass come asking, you’ll tell them he tried to stab one more soldier on the way and you had to put him down in self-defense. Tragic, really.” Her tone was chipper, but her eyes leveled him with a chilling look that nipped any argument he had in the bud. She extended a palm up and wiggled her fingers. “Keys, please.”

     The Lieutenant caved in and wordlessly reached into his breast pocket, fished out a small keychain then dropped it into her hand. Fellner unlocked the soldier’s end of the handcuffs and slapped it on her own wrist, tethering the boy to herself in one fluid motion. She leaned down, pulling the boy closer, and draped an arm over his shoulders.

     “Hear that, you little terrorist?” Fellner purred in the boy’s ear. “We’re going to be friends. You, me, and every little secret you got squirreled up in here.” She poked his forehead. If looks could kill, the boy’s glare would have turned her into a pincushion by now.

     Dr. Andonuts nodded to the Lieutenant. “Thank you, Lieutenant. We’ll be taking this Islander child under our custody. He is now an object of interest to the Pigmask Army.”

Chapter Text

September 1950
Onett, Eagleland

    Man, Paula and the girls really let me have it, Ness thought to himself as he strolled down the main street. He was now a man on a mission: winning back Paula’s approval by finding her little cousin and, ideally, apologizing for whatever nonsense he blurted out the other day about the kid’s hobbies. Ness didn’t even get to catch his name; Paula somehow managed to thoroughly chew him out without mentioning Blondie’s name once. Ness made a mental note to ditch the nickname “Blondie” and actually find out the guy’s real name, one way or another.

     His mind wandered back to Blondie’s outburst, ‘Does it mean I must start wearing dresses and lipstick just because I’ve got different interests?’ Ness blushed to the tips of his ears as he imagined Blondie in a frilly dress and full makeup, making exaggerated kissy faces at him. Small wonder Blondie was so cross then. Ness slapped at his cheeks to dispel the weird image that lodged itself in his mind. Get a grip, man!

     Apart from Paula, Blondie hardly spoke to anyone else, which made Ness feel a little bad for him. He could probably use a new friend, that’s if Ness mustered the courage to approach first. It felt ridiculous, but Blondie was kind of scary. He spotted the kid at school every day after their awkward first meeting, often alone or sometimes sitting near Paula and her friends. Whenever their eyes met, Blondie looked as if he’d just scraped Ness off the bottom of his shoe. The standoffish air about him made Ness’s otherwise unshakable confidence falter, but he wasn’t about to throw in the towel just yet.

     At any rate, all thoughts and plans of cracking the insular blond’s shell flew out the window the moment he spotted a hot dog stand on the sidewalk, the aroma of frankfurters calling out to him from across the street.

•  •  •

    Lucas browsed through the grocery store for a can of beef stew. The shopping list Molly gave him this time was mercifully short, and as a reward for his good grades, she had slipped in some extra cash for a treat. He paid for the groceries and then walked into the adjacent department store where he picked out some clothing items a couple of sizes larger than his own. Then, making his way across the street, he popped into a sandwich joint for a couple of subs.

     Carefully balancing the bags in one arm, he made his way back onto the street. He paused upon seeing none other than Ness standing by a food stall and demolishing an unfortunate hot dog. Their eyes met, and Ness paused to stare at him as he wiped a mustard stain off his cheek with the heel of his palm. Lucas felt the same irritating inability to hear Ness’s thoughts as before, but he couldn’t help but notice Ness’s open fly and wonder if the other boy was even aware of it.

•  •  •

    Oh crap, it’s Blondie! Quick, look alive! Ness thought as he finished his hot dog when he spied a particular swirl of blond hair stepping out of a building, clutching some bags in one hand, the other one stuffed in the pocket of his shorts. At least he saw an acknowledging look in the other’s eyes when their eyes locked.

     “Oh, hey. Fancy seeing you here,” Ness said, trying to sound casual. It irked him that he had to tilt his eyes up to meet Blondie’s. Dang, how come he’s taller than me? He was going to say something before noticing that the blond’s gaze wasn’t exactly on his eyes. What the hell is he looking at?

     “Uh, is there something wrong?” he asked, following Blondie’s gaze down his waist and—Oh God.

      “You might want to…” Blondie gestured vaguely downward, “you know.”

     An embarrassed flush crept up Ness’s face as he quickly zipped up, mumbling a string of incoherent apologies mixed with curses. Blondie, for his part, pretended to be interested in the street traffic to spare Ness a shred of dignity.

     “Thanks,” Ness mumbled. He wished the ground would swallow him up right then and there. Lucas nodded, a barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before he continued on his way, leaving Ness to stew in his mortification.

     This is beyond uncool.

•  •  •

    Lucas smirked to himself. The look on Ness’s face when he realized his fly was open was priceless. It reminded him of that one time when Claus wore his shirt inside out and wandered through the village all day. When Fuel and the other kids pointed it out, Claus turned a shade of red that rivaled his hair and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

     Ness did something like that back at lunch the other day, didn’t he?

     He shook his head, killing the trail of thought before he could dwell on it further. Shuffling the bags in his hand, he walked across the main street into the southern part of town, a neighborhood that, in diplomatic terms, was known as a “working-class district.” A criminal gang known as The Sharks had made it their turf.

     Ironically, the Onett Police Department was headquartered somewhere in that very same neighborhood, but they turned a blind eye to the rampant crime rates. As the sun began to set, Lucas reached that part of town, scanning the streets for a particular person. Once he did, he walked up to a whiskered man sitting by a lamppost with a beaten-up bass guitar and a hat containing a handful of pennies.

     “Spare some change?” the man said quietly, almost automatically when he sensed a passerby. To his surprise, the person sat next to him instead. His mouth fell open at the sight of a familiar kid settling next to him.

     “Mind if I join you, Duster?” the boy asked in Islandish, depositing his bags in front of him. Recognition and surprise played on the man’s features.

     “Lucas! What are you doing here, kid?” Duster exclaimed, switching to his native tongue.

     “Just checking up on you,” Lucas replied, not looking him in the eye. “How are you doing? I heard things have been tough.”

     “What, this? Pff, it’s nothing,” Duster said with a wry grin. “I just need to sweet-talk that landlady hag into giving me just one more week. I’ll pay her for her dingy room eventually, I swear.”

     “How’s your leg?” Lucas asked, ignoring what Duster had just said. “Have you been taking your medicine?”

     “You’re not my mom, Lucas,” Duster grumbled. “I’m a grown man. I can look after myself.”

     The look Lucas threw him indicated he believed otherwise. Duster winced under the boy’s piercing stare. His old man used to glare him down like this back in the old country. He half-expected Lucas to call him a moron.

     Lucas’s gaze softened. “Duster, you’re the only one I still know from back home. You can’t expect me not to worry about you.” He shifted his eyes to the narrow street. “I heard about Chaos Theater. I don’t think you’re coming back there after breaking the owner’s teeth.”

     “Heh, you keep a close ear to the ground, don’t ya? That Twosonian jackass had it coming. Thinks I’m his indentured servant. I still have my pride, you know.”

     “Yet here you are on the streets,” Lucas said, humor absent from his voice. “I’d rather steal than beg for money if I were in your shoes.”

     “Damn, kid,” Duster said, pulling a face at his younger companion. “But yeah, guess I’d make a great thief, wouldn’t I?”

     “You’re a much better bassist, though.”

     Duster smirked, rubbing his scruffy goatee. They sat in silence for a few moments. Lucas knew what Duster was about to say, so he looked on expectantly once the man hesitantly opened his mouth.

     “You know, there’s this friend I know from back home. She told me about this guy who frequents the club she works at. They’re starting a new band and they’re looking for a bassist. When she dropped my name, the rest agreed to give me a shot.”

     “Then why don’t you take up the offer?” Lucas asked, fully knowing the answer through Duster’s thoughts, but he chose to twist it out of the other Islander, who frowned and looked away.

     “Ah, it’s… it’s a long shot. I mean… It’s across the country in Fourside and…” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “They probably found someone else by now. I guess I’m better off as a street musician.”

     “You don’t know for sure. You can just take the bus,” Lucas said. Duster glared at him.

     “Do I look like I can afford a bus across the country, kid? I think a roof over my head right now is more of a priority.” He bowed his head at the old lady who plopped a penny in his hat. “Much obliged, ma’am.”

     “How much is the bus fare to Fourside?”

     “It’s not cheap.” Duster looked horrified as Lucas dug through his pocket. “No, I won’t ask that of you,”

     “I thought it’d cost about this much. There you go.” Lucas produced a few bills from his pocket and pushed them into Duster’s hand. “Get out of this town, Duster.”

     “That’s not a small sum, kid.” Duster stared in disbelief at the wad of bills. “Where’d you get all this money?”

     Lucas gave a noncomittal shrug. “I saved most of it.”

     “I can’t take this from you, Lucas,” Duster protested, trying to hand back the money. Lucas shook his head and stood his ground. When he realized the boy won’t budge, he exhaled, a flush creeping up his face before offering Lucas a weak smile. “Thanks, kid. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

     Lucas shook his head. “Don’t mention it.” He rummaged through the bag in front of him and handed Duster a sandwich. “Got you a sub. Extra salami and pickles.”

     “Holy crap, that’s my favorite!” Duster exclaimed, unwrapping the offered sandwich.

•  •  •

      “I should go,” Lucas said as he got up, dusting himself off and picking up one of the bags, leaving the other with the clothes for Duster.

     “Hm. All right, then.”

     “Good luck in Fourside,” Lucas said before switching to Eaglelandish. “Break a leg, will you?”

     “Heh. I already got a busted one, don’t I?” Duster was silent for a beat, then looked up at the blond teen. “Thank you, Lucas. I really mean it.”

     “You’re welcome,” Lucas said, a bashful smile on his face. Duster watched the blond kid leave. He fondly recalled how sweet Lucas used to be back in Tazmily. It was refreshing to see a glimpse of the old Lucas shine through this hardened shell.

     Lucas rounded a corner, finding his way through the rapidly darkening streets. A howling cat bolted out of an alley, briefly startling him. He hated this area in the dark. The sooner he left this place, the better. He apprehensively passed by the shabby-looking arcade. He knew this place was a gathering ground for trouble.

     Sure enough, a trio of tough-looking guys peeled themselves off the fence by the arcade and approached him, predatory grins on their faces. Lucas would have been cliché and described their grins as shark-toothed, but he silenced the thought.

     “Hey! You there,” the one in the middle called. The other two flanked Lucas, effectively trapping him.

     “What’s the rush pal?” the one to the right said, grabbing Lucas by the arm, his eyes darting to Lucas’s wrist where a shiny watch peeked from under his sleeve. “You lost, or just lookin’ for trouble?”

     Their leader stood too close to Lucas and extended a palm, his other hand deftly flicked open a switchblade. “That’s a nice watch you got there. How about you hand it over, huh?”

     Armed robbery. The Sharks are getting bold, Lucas thought to himself. The watch was a worthless replica, but it was Grandpa’s watch and he wasn’t about to give it up. He thanked his luck he’d just given Duster all his savings minutes ago.

     “It’s not for sale,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice steady. The gangsters didn’t look very pleased with his reply.

     “Listen up, wise guy,” the knife-wielder sneered, pressing the flat of the blade against Lucas’s cheek. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Hand it over, or I’ll cut a grin onto your face like a pumpkin.”

     Lucas stared into the thug’s eyes. He could read his thoughts, but this time they seemed more vivid, as if he could see them. He closed his eyes, and when they shot open, his pupils were dilated and his irises almost glowed.

     Everything slowed down as Lucas’s surroundings changed into an endless, dimly-lit hallway with metal doors on each side and a towering ceiling above his head. The muggers no longer surrounded him. Immediate thoughts sprang out from an opened gate behind him.

     This kid looks like an easy mark. Just gotta squeeze him a little more.

     …Man, what’s with his eyes? They’re freakin’ me out.

     Lucas realized he stood inside the knife-wielding man’s mind. He walked with slow, deliberate steps to the nearest door and opened it, peeking inside.

     He saw flashes of a pale, sickly woman sweeping a room in a tiny, dirty room, then clutching her sore back. Images of a drunkard man spewing oaths and obscenities buzzed by him inside the dark room. Memories of beatings and insults that left an acerbic taste in his mouth.

     Lucas backed away and closed the door. The next room was dark at first, then bursts of light flashed by him. With each flash, images appeared before Lucas’s eyes and foreign emotions welled within his mind; the first rush of committing the first crime and running from police, alcohol-blurred feelings of anger and despair, and very little happiness.

     Stepping inside the third door, he found himself leaning against a fence behind a circus fair he recognized from Threed. A man in fake-looking military fatigues lit up a cigarette and pushed a heavy, pointed object in his hand. It looked like a rocket-shaped firework of some sort.

     Watch out, dummy. This puppy ain’t a little toy. It can tear through anything short of a tank.

     He backed away once more and exited the room. A particular rusty door at the end of the hallway piqued his interest. It was riddled with locks and chains. Lucas approached it and messed with the rusted locks. He kicked and punched at the door, but it didn’t budge. Seething, Lucas rammed his shoulder against it. The noise of his attempts at forcing the door open echoed through the silent hallway. He panted, eyeing the immovable door in front of him.

     An idea sprang into his mind. Dashing back to the previous room, he reached out and grabbed the firework and rushed out before the memory finished. He hurled the thing at the locked door, the rocket lit up by itself mid-flight, screaming toward its target. The explosion was more potent than Lucas expected, blasting the door apart in a flash of brilliant light and deafening noise that threw him off balance. Coughing, he cautiously approached the now-open room and stepped inside.

     Only to come back running moments later.

     Lucas dropped to his knees, fighting back a horrible surge of nausea. Whatever was locked there was too grotesque to form images in his mind. It seemed to manifest as pure corruption and rot, as if he’d opened a Pandora’s box of the thug’s most repressed thoughts and memories.

     An evil-smelling smoke seeped out from the opened room, and he soon realized he wasn’t the only one shaking. Cracks appeared in the walls, and the high roof above him buckled as the thug’s mindscape began to collapse. Lucas closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was in front of the muggers again.

     Their leader now stared back at him with glassy, vacant eyes, and a thin stream of drool trickled out the corner of his open mouth. The switchblade dropped from his hand, startling the two next to him.

     “Billy?” One of them muttered nervously. The other shook his frozen buddy’s shoulder, but no response came back. Lucas took a moment to compose himself. Think fast!

     “I don’t suppose he’s coming back to this world anytime soon,” Lucas said a little breathlessly, before flashing them a sinister grin. “Who wants to be next?”

     The remaining criminals stared at Lucas in disbelief, their expressions twisted with terror. 

     “What… what the hell did you do to him?” The one on the left screamed, jumping back a good three feet. 

     “Don’t you see the blood coming out of his face?” the other screamed. “The kid’s a damn demon!”

     Blood? Lucas lifted a hand to his upper lip. His fingers came back smeared in fresh blood. In the process of destroying the thug’s brain, he must have exerted too much pressure on his own. He watched as they dragged their drooling leader away, screaming at the top of their lungs. He bent down and picked up the switchblade, examining it for a moment, before flicking it shut and stuffing it in his pocket.

     Did I just destroy someone’s mind?

     Suddenly, he felt lightheaded, a wave of weakness gripping him. His vision went dark as he collapsed on the sidewalk.

•  •  •

    Ness shadowed Blondie as the latter ventured into the shabbier part of town. It felt weird and borderline creepy to tail someone he barely knew, but he was nothing if not nosy and persistent. He wasn’t going to back down before he knew what Paula’s cousin was up to in such a seedy area. He was familiar enough with the streets, so he chose to tail the unaware kid from the alleys. It puzzled him when he saw Blondie approach a homeless man and sit beside him.

     He pricked up his ears, trying to listen in on their conversation. They spoke in an unfamiliar language, filled with clustered consonants and nasal vowels. Didn’t Paula mention he’s from Eastern Foggyland or something?

    Ness watched the two talk, wondering if the hobo came from the same place. Like a good Samaritan, Blondie shared some sandwiches with the homeless man and left a large bag at his side.

     When Blondie got up and left, Ness stayed on his trail, slipping from one alley to another. He accidentally knocked over a trashcan, and a cat bolted out screeching. He cursed under his breath when it swiped at him, before it ran out in front of Blondie. At least the cat didn’t give him away. Cautiously this time, he trailed the other boy as he rounded a corner into a narrow street.

     Hell, he’s walking right into Sharks territory, Ness thought, recognizing the notorious gang’s hangout as Blondie passed by the rundown arcade. As expected, three crooks approached the hapless boy. It was an unmistakable shakedown. The thug in the middle brandished a mean-looking switchblade way too close to Blondie’s nose, and Ness decided to jump in once it became apparent that Blondie stood to lose his spare change and his pretty face.

     Then, a surreal thing happened: the knife-wielding thug suddenly froze, his eyes locked with Blondie’s in a hypnotized stare. A moment later, the switchblade dropped to the ground with an loud ‘clang’. The other ruffians agitatedly tried to get a response from the frozen guy to no avail before they dragged him off, screaming in terror. Blondie picked up the switchblade and stuffed it in his pocket. A step later, he crumpled to the ground like a puppet with the strings cut.

     “What the hell?” Ness said out loud as he sprinted from his cover toward the unconscious Blondie. He knelt beside him, checking for injuries. Aside from a bleeding nose, a nasty bruise began forming on Blondie’s forehead thanks to his spectacular fall. He cursed under his breath when he heard approaching footsteps. It could be passersby or more of the Sharks, drawn by the commotion.

     Either way, Ness wasn’t willing to stick around and find out.

     You’re in over your head, part of his mind whispered. But abandoning Blondie wasn’t an option. ”What the hell are you getting yourself into?” he asked himself, lifting the unconscious boy onto his shoulder and dragging him out of the street.

Chapter Text

Fourside Orphan Asylum

Elise Island
Fourside, Eagleland
October 1944

    The White Ship’s hull groaned as it finally docked at a small island just off the shores of Fourside, Eagleland’s largest city. Skyscrapers and high-rise buildings loomed in the distance, shrouded by a blanket of fog, watching the war-torn souls disembark from the ship.

    Alec guided Lucas through the crowd of haggard faces, their few possessions packed in two battered canvas bags that swung against their legs. Their rhythm meshed with the chatter of the people and the cries of children.

    “Stay close, Lucas,” Alec muttered. He felt Lucas’s small hand tighten around his own as the boy held the worn bag closer. At the processing desk, a burly man in official uniform signaled for them to approach. The previous refugee, a weary-looking woman whom Lucas vaguely recognized as Betsy from Tazmily’s inn, walked away with a relieved sigh. Alec and Lucas stepped forward.

    “Stand one at a time, folks. You’re crowding the line,” the officer said in a dull voice, lifting his eyes at them for a second. “I’ll need your names and papers, please.”

    “What’s he saying, Grandpa?” Lucas asked. Alec winced, unable to comprehend. The officer looked up and impatiently repeated himself.

    Alec fumbled with the unfamiliar language. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” he said.

    A young desk clerk passing by noticed his struggle. Approaching them, she offered a sympathetic smile. “He wants passports and names,” she said in very broken, accented Islandish.

    Alec looked at her with gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you, miss,” he said, then turned to the officer and handed over his documents. Pointing to himself, he said, “Alec,” and then pointed to his grandson, “Lucas.”

    The officer glanced through the rumpled papers and then back at Alec. “Islanders, huh?” he pressed his lips together, scribbling notes and not bothering to hide his distaste. “Just what we need. More refugees.”

    The young woman’s face flushed, but she held her tongue, assisting Alec and Lucas through the rest of the process with a forced smile. The officer handed back the papers, dismissing them with a contemptuous wave.

    As they walked away, Alec turned to the woman. “Bless you,” he said with as much gratitude he could pour into the words. She smiled back and nodded. Once on board the ferry bound for Fourside proper, Alec and Lucas squeezed themselves between the railing and the horde of passengers. The engine rumbled beneath their feet as the ferry started toward their new home. 

    “Are we safe now, Grandpa?” Lucas asked, tugging at his grandfather’s sleeve.

    Alec looked down at his grandson for a long moment. “Yes, my boy, we’re safe.”

•  •  •

    A year and a few months had slipped by since Lucas and his grandfather settled into their new life in the musty basement of an apartment building in Lower Fourside. They scavenged for food, mostly discarded vegetables and fruits from the local markets. Alec made a meager living by collecting and selling scrap metal, while Lucas managed to pick up a decent amount of Eaglelandish in a short time, acting as a translator for his grandfather.

    At night, Lucas would toss around in bed, half awake, half dreaming. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the Pigmask invasion replaying itself. Swine-headed soldiers marching through the rubble of his hometown and taking his family away.

    One particularly restless night, Alec sat by Lucas’s bedside after the latter had woken up screaming from another nightmare. “It was just a dream,” Alec said. “You’re awake, and everything’s okay. You’re safe with me.”

    Lucas still clutched the thin blanket with white-knuckled fists. Seeing the fear in his grandson’s eyes, Alec reached over to move a strand of hair from Lucas’s forehead. “There’s nothing to worry about, Lucas.” He smiled and pointed to his own mouth. “What you need to do is smile.”

    With effort, Lucas managed to crack a watery smile, and Alec beamed. “That’s the ticket,” he said, patting the boy on the head. “My girl raised such a strong boy. Hinawa would be so proud of you, just like I am.”

    Their new home nestled close to an industrial zone, the factories radiating the sticky odor of machine oil. From the street, Lucas and Alec could glimpse the sea and adjacent river, discolored with wastewater and choked with trash and dead fish. The sea never smelled like this in Tazmily. There, the crisp breeze carried waves from crystal blue waters. In Lower Fourside, Lucas wheezed and his chest ached, his lungs protesting the foul air. Sometimes, when he took a breath, he could hear a scraping noise somewhere in his chest.

    For Alec, the pollution was unkind to his already frail body. He would frequently cough blood into his handkerchief or heave up a horrid mass of greenish-red phlegm. If nightmares didn’t keep Lucas awake, Alec’s ceaseless hacking and coughing often did.

    Over time, Alec’s condition only worsened. One terrifying morning, Lucas woke up to a silence that fell over the room like a lead weight. He sat up to find his grandfather on the floor, a trickle of blood staining his thinning beard.

    Alec didn’t last long after that.

    In the waiting room of the Fourside General Hospital, a woman in a formal-looking skirt and blouse approached Lucas, who’d been left to his own devices. She introduced herself as a social worker, guided him to a quiet room and offered him a teddy bear. The maroon plush toy looked enormous in Lucas’s small hands. He turned his hollow eyes toward her, and she forced a gentle smile onto her face.

    “Lucas, dear?” she began, then she relayed the news. He hardly reacted, opting for a placid nod and a subdued ‘thank you’. The social worker waited for a moment, as if expecting more of a reaction. She knew that Alec had been Lucas’s only surviving family. She gave him a tight smile, then excused herself to make a few phone calls.

    Lucas watched her leave, then his gaze dropped to the teddy bear in his hands. He hugged the stuffed animal closer, as if trying to hide behind it.

•  •  •

Lower Fourside
March 1946

    Clutching a suitcase filled with a few belongings, Lucas stood at the entrance of the Fourside Orphan Asylum, an old, gloomy five-story building. The social worker lady rang the bell at the front gate.

    Moments later, an old nun came out and opened the gate with a drawn-out creak. A middle-aged priest in a black robe and a large cross followed closely behind her. The elderly nun introduced herself as Sister Agnes and welcomed Lucas, before they all made their way inside the building, heading straight for the priest’s office. The office was a small, plain room with a large wooden desk and shelves lined with religious texts. The priest and the social worker exchanged a few words and completed the paperwork for Lucas. After settling the paperwork, the social worker turned to Lucas. She explained that he would be staying at the Fourside Orphan Asylum for the time being. She assured him that they would do their best to find a suitable family for him and emphasized that he was in a safe place. She offered him one more reassuring smile before taking her leave.

    Sister Agnes gestured for Lucas to follow her. They exited the priest’s office, stepping into the large common room of the orphanage. It was poorly lit and painted a drab green. Children of various ages went about their day: some reading books, a few arguing over toys, and others whispering among themselves, casting glances at him—the new foreign boy. Some children approached Lucas, sizing him up.

    “This is Lucas,” Sister Agnes said, introducing him. “He’ll be rooming with Tom Garrickson.”

    “Eugh,” a little boy stuck out his tongue. 

    Another boy a couple of years older than Lucas threw him a sympathetic look. “Tough break.”

    “Ssh, that’s enough!” Sister Agnes scolded, shooing the children away. “Come, Lucas. I’ll show you your room.”

    She led him to a small room on the second floor, sparsely furnished with a bunk bed and a single desk facing a window. “This here is your bunk,” Sister Agnes said. “Dinner will be served soon, but maybe you’d like to meet your roommate and some of the other children first?”

    Lucas nodded, setting his suitcase down on the floor. His gaze settled on an auburn-haired boy sitting on the bottom bunk. The boy looked pale and thin, with a gaunt face and sunken cheekbones. His clavicles were clearly visible underneath the loosely fitting shirt. Lucas felt a shiver go down his spine upon meeting the other boy’s eyes. Wide and sea-green, they seemed to bore through him like steel gimlets.

    “Lucas, meet Tom,” Sister Agnes said, then turned to the other boy. “Tom, this is Lucas, your new roommate. I know you wanted to be alone, but we’re out of space.”

    Tom gave a slight nod, his gaze unwavering from Lucas. Sister Agnes placed a comforting hand on Lucas’s shoulder, reassuring him before excusing herself.

    Feeling both curious and wary, Lucas approached and sat in the desk chair across from Tom, who continued to stare as if Sister Agnes had brought in a wild animal. In an attempt to break the ice, Lucas offered an awkward wave. “Hello,” he said.

    The other boy slowly waved back, before lowering his hand, his body language still guarded. Bemused, Lucas turned his attention to his own suitcase. He exhaled in relief once he felt Tom’s intense gaze shift away from him.

•  •  •

    After unpacking his things and a few lackluster attempts at conversation with his roommate, Lucas wandered into the common room and sat crosslegged on a scuffed bench, watching the other kids. Soon after, a smaller boy walked over to him and plopped down beside him. Lucas recognized him as one of the kids who reacted to his placement with Tom Garrickson earlier.

    “Hey, you’re the new kid, right?” the boy said, looking at Lucas with puppy-like eyes and a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he held out a hand. “I’m Isaac.”

    “That’s me,” Lucas said, shaking the boy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Isaac. I’m Lucas.”

    At that, Isaac grinned wide, all teeth (minus one) and gums. He attempted to mimic Lucas’s posture, folding his legs and bumping his head into Lucas’s side before settling comfortably. He studied Lucas for a brief moment.

    “You talk kinda funny,” he blurted out. “Are you from out of town?”

    “I’m from Tazmily,” Lucas said. “The Nowhere Islands,” he added when the boy gave him a perplexed look.

    “Ooh, I’ve read about that place,” Isaac said. “It’s so far away. How did you end up—” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Actually, never mind that. Have you met your roommate?”

    Lucas nodded. “Sort of. I tried to talk to him, but just stared at me and didn’t say anything.” He decided to leave out how unnerved Tom Garrickson seemed by his presence.

   “He’s creepy, isn’t he?” Isaac said. He peeked at Lucas with a bashful smile. “You look nice though. Not scary like him.”

    “What’s his story?” Lucas asked.

    Isaac grimaced. “I don’t know, honestly. I know for sure he’s also a Foggyland refugee from Autumns, and he’s been here for about a year now. If you ask two people here about Tom, you’ll hear five different stories about him.”

    “What sort of stories?”

   “A whole lot of ‘em,” Isaac said with a sigh. “Like he didn’t talk for months when he first came in. Sister Agnes insists he could talk just fine. Garrickson just keeps to himself. I think he's just waiting to age out of here because he's too old for most families looking to adopt.”

    “Too old?” Lucas said. “How old is he?”

    “You’d never guess, but he’s fifteen.”

    “Fifteen?” Lucas exclaimed. “But he’s barely bigger than us.”

    “I was surprised too. Maybe he’s sickly or something. I heard that last year, some of the nuns made bets whether he’d see the end of the war.”

    Lucas looked at him with horror. “That’s horrible!”

    Isaac nodded. “It is, but the poor fella looks half-dead on a good day.”

    Their attention shifted when the same middle-aged priest that Lucas saw at the front gate entered the common room. Isaac nudged Lucas with his elbow. “That’s Father Green, the priest in charge here. He teaches Summerish too.”

   Lucas’s gaze followed the priest. He heard Isaac mumble, ‘That old mule. Thinks he’s a tough guy with the stick he’s got.’

    Lucas snorted. “Why do you call him that?” 

    “Call him what?”

    “Old mule?”

    “Whoa,” Isaac’s jaw dropped. “How’d you know?”

    “Didn’t you just say that?” Lucas asked, puzzled.

    “No, I didn’t,” Isaac said. “And only I call Father Green an old mule. It’s weird that you knew that.”

    “I could swear I heard you say it out loud,” Lucas said.

    Their conversation was cut short when Father Green’s voice boomed across the room, ordering the children to head to the food hall for dinner.

    “Well, you didn’t hear it from me. Don’t repeat that around him, or we’re both in for a whipping,” Isaac said, then jumped to his feet. “Hey, wanna sit with me at dinner?”

•  •  •

    Lucas returned to his room to find Tom Garrickson sitting at the desk, looking more relaxed than before. A brief silence lingered before Tom cleared his throat and spoke up.

    “Hey. Lucas, was it?” he said. “Sorry about earlier. I… didn’t expect they’d pair me with a roommate.”

    Lucas hid his own surprise at the other boy’s changed attitude and nodded. “It’s alright.” He decided not to pry further and shifted the topic, “You didn’t come down for dinner?”

    “Oh, I don’t really need to eat,” Tom said with an even expression. Watching Lucas’s puzzled and alarmed face, he cracked a small grin. “Nah, I’m just pulling your leg. I eat after everyone else is done. My presence clears the room faster than throwing a skunk in there.”

    Lucas frowned. “That’s just sad.”

    “It’s better for everyone that way,” Tom said. He stood up from the desk and began pacing around Lucas with an air of mock importance. “Well, since you’re new here, let me fill you in on the cardinal rules of this dog pound.” He began counting on his fingers. “Rule one: Father Green will cane you at some point, whether you’re on your best behavior or not. Rule two: Try to get your food directly from the cook because the serving lady is meaner than a sackful of snakes.”

    He stopped behind Lucas and leaned down to whisper in the blond’s ear. “And rule three: Never talk to Tom Garrickson.”

    Upon hearing this, Lucas turned around with a frown. “But that’s you.”

    Tom leaned back, flashing Lucas a smirk. “Bingo. I’m just giving you a heads-up kid. Nothing ever happens in this dump, and I’m prime gossip fodder. You’ll spare yourself many headaches by not associating with me.”

    Lucas studied his roommate. If he looked past the unsettling eyes, skeletal build and surprising dry wit, Tom Garrickson was just another kid, much like himself.

    “I think I’ll break that third rule,” Lucas said. “I’m your roommate, so I’ll be lumped together with you anyway.”

    Tom’s sea-green eyes looked Lucas up and down, and something warmed in his expression. “You’re either too kind, or too dense,” he said, then went for the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I can smell meatloaf on you. If I hurry, there might still be some left.”

•  •  •

    Lucas came to call the redhead by his full name, Tom Garrickson. Not just Tom — it didn’t feel like the curt name fit him. They never called people by their last names in Tazmily, so it wasn’t just Garrickson either; only the full name Tom Garrickson felt appropriate. The two occasionally met in their free time in a small room on the ground floor, where Tom Garrickson played on an old upright piano. Lucas listened to him play while busying himself with tending to a few potted plants that Sister Agnes had placed by the windowsill.

    Lucas was surprised that Tom Garrickson was a decent pianist. Every session began with Tom playing the same piece, before leafing through the sheet music and playing whatever was in front of him. That piece, intricate and strangely nostalgic despite never hearing it in his life, wormed its way into Lucas’s ear, and he caught himself humming the tune at random moments throughout his day.

    One evening, after Tom had played that particular piece, Lucas had to ask, “That song you always start with, what is it?”

    Tom’s fingers stilled for a moment, then twisted around to face Lucas, a faint smile tracing his lips. “It’s called ‘Love’s Dream’ in Autumnish. It reminds me of home somewhat.”

    “It must be nice to have something that reminds you of home,” Lucas said wistfully. “I really miss Tazmily, and my family. Do you ever miss yours, Tom Garrickson?”

    Tom’s expression sobered for a moment and he looked away. After a moment, he faced the piano again.

    “Not really.”

•  •  •

    Underneath the austere, dull façade of the Fourside Orphan Asylum, Lucas discovered that hearsay and gossip were the institution’s pastime. Everyone, nuns and children alike, weren’t above tuning in to the good old-fashioned grapevine in an attempt to break the monotony of their daily lives.

    With his striking hair and foreign accent, Lucas became a prime topic of hearsay. Isaac had innocently shared how Lucas could react to thoughts others hadn’t voiced, and it took only one more similar accident — two, maybe three — for exaggerated rumors to spiral out of control. The nuns had their own stories to share about him. One day, while Lucas was on his way to fetch water, he overheard his name in conversation between two nuns sitting at a table in the common room in view of some children. He paused and stood behind a door to listen in.

    “Did you know? That boy named Lucas,” one sister said around a needle she placed between her teeth as she picked up a sock. “He’s from those faraway islands. You know, the ones in Eastern Foggyland with the bizarre customs. I heard they worship a dark beast and let unusual men dressed as women lead them.”

    The other nun nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that too. He probably never saw proper civilization until now. Poor child, raised by pagans and transvestites.” 

    “Did you hear about the other thing?” The first nun picked up another shirt, deemed it too worn to fix, and tossed it onto the floor. “How he knows things before they happen?”

    The other nun perked up. “I—no?”

    “Well, little Ralph told me that Rob told him that he heard that Lucas somehow knew about Sister Mary’s sick nephew in Summers before anyone here even got the letter!”

    Lucas made a face. Sister Mary having a nephew at all was news to him.

    The second nun shivered. “Surely it’s got to do with whatever pagan nonsense his kind is up to. Should we speak to Father Green about an exorcism?”

    Lucas sensed someone standing behind him. He turned to find Sister Agnes, who overheard the nuns as well. She gave him a tight-lipped smile, then poked her head into the room and scolded the two nuns for spreading rumors about a child in their care. As soon as she left, the nuns grumbled and continued their conversation, shifting their focus to gossiping about Sister Agnes instead.

    By the next day, the rumors about Nowhere Islanders had mutated to being cross-dressing barbarians who spoke to animals. A few kids confronted Lucas, accusing him of being “just as creepy as Tom Garrickson.” Isaac jumped in to defend Lucas, shoving the biggest of the boys. Things quickly escalated into a fistfight, and Father Green walked in on the scuffle. The boys scattered like cockroaches fleeing from light. Isaac quickly backed away and ran off as well, leaving Lucas behind to face Father Green’s wrath alone. He tried to explain what happened, but the priest showed no interest in hearing him out. His rattan cane came down hard on Lucas’s hand for getting into a brawl. As Lucas walked away, rubbing his sore hand, he understood why Isaac called Father Green an old mule. His hand hurt and almost brought him to tears. Yet despite the pain, a small, satisfied smile crept onto his lips as he remembered how he’d managed to sock one of the bullies in the eye.

•  •  •

    Aside from religious studies, Father Green also took it upon himself to teach the orphans the only other skill he could impart, the Summerish language. The subject was as far removed from the boys’ interests as Summers itself, and the priest’s teaching methods left much to be desired.. He’d scribble words on the blackboard and have the boys drone after him. In one lesson about colors, Lucas tried his best not to yawn while repeating after the priest.

    “Blue,” Father Green said, pointing at the word with his cane. “C’est quoi?”

    “Bleu,” the boys replied in unison.

    “Très bon. Now green. C’est quoi?”

    “Vert.”

    Father Green nodded approvingly, then continued, “Now, yellow. C’est quoi?” 

    “Jaune.”

    “D’accord.” Father Green surveyed the room, catching Tom Garrickson, who slouched in his chair, head propped up on an elbow. Father Green picked up a piece of chalk and lobbed it at Tom. He missed by a whole foot.

    “Garrickson!” He barked. “Do you need help tuning in, or are you paying attention?”

    Tom sat up, meeting the priest’s glare with feigned innocence. “Oui, Père Vert.”

    A ripple of stifled snickers spread through the class, but died down when Father Green turned an impressive shade of rouge and caned Tom on the spot. He declared that Tom would also go without supper tonight for the insolence.

    Later that evening, in their shared room, Lucas found Tom leaning on his side, grimacing from the caning. Their eyes met, and Tom offered a slight nod along with a hint of his usual smirk. Lucas opened his jacket and took out a bread roll and a wedge of cheese. He’d nabbed them from the kitchen after dinner, narrowly avoiding being caught by the mean serving lady. He decided the risk was worth it when he saw Tom’s face light up at the sight of the smuggled food.

•  •  •

    One July afternoon, Sister Agnes approached Lucas with a cheerful smile and instructed him to wear his best clothes the next morning to meet a couple who had expressed interest in him. He spent hours on end thinking about that couple and what they looked like. That night, Lucas stared at the ceiling, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

    In the orphanage’s reception room, Lucas sat with Sister Agnes, fidgeting with the hem of his ironed shirt and fighting the urge to mess with his neatly combed hair. He met them for the first time in Father Green’s office, Desmond and Molly Jones. Desmond, tall with dark crew cut hair, looked around with an enthusiastic grin, while Molly, a pretty woman with blonde, shoulder-length hair, had a gentle smile.

    As they approached Lucas, Molly greeted him, her voice conveying warmth and understanding. However, Lucas couldn’t help but listen to her thoughts.

    ‘Gosh, he’s like a little angel. I wonder if he will like us…will he feel out of place in our home?’

    Desmond’s mind, in contrast, was filled with more practical considerations: ‘Seems like a nice, polite kid. He’ll have his own room. Sister Agnes says he’s a little asthmatic. Onett’s fresh air would do him wonders. We got a dog last year. Is he allergic to dogs?’

    The couple’s thoughts were so loud in Lucas’s head that he barely noticed Molly reaching out toward him. He couldn’t block out her next thought, ‘What if he’s too troubled for us? Are we making a mistake?’

    The intrusive thought startled Lucas, flinching just as Molly’s fingers touched his arm. Molly’s touch withdrew as if burned. Her face turned a touch paler, and her eyes darted to her husband. Sister Agnes and the social worker exchanged concerned glances.

    Desmond let out a nervous chuckle before attempting to redirect the conversation. “Say, Lucas. Sister Agnes tells me you’ve got quite the green thumb. We got a swell backyard back home, and lemme tell you the air there does wonders for plants.”

    Sensing an opportunity to shift the conversation to a pleasant topic, the social worker nodded enthusiastically and began describing the life awaiting Lucas in Onett. He tried to focus on her words and engage in the conversation, but the undertow of uncertain thoughts from the couple kept pulling at him.

•  •  •

    On his last day in the orphanage, Lucas wandered the corridors of the building. He hated to admit that in the past few months, the drab green walls and high ceilings had grown on him. Lost in thought, Lucas nearly walked into Tom Garrickson outside the piano room.

    “This is it, huh?” Tom asked, stepping into the room and sitting down at the piano.

    Lucas managed a tight smile. “Yeah. Time to go, I guess.”

    Tom patted the bench next to him, inviting Lucas to sit. “How are you holding up?”

    Lucas exhaled, settling next to Tom and running a finger across the keys. “I’m fine. It’s just all happening so fast.”

    A brief silence passed between them, broken only by the noise from the other children outside. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, dappling the dusty wooden floors with golden patches. Outside, a stiff breeze occasionally whistled through the old windowpanes.

    “It’ll be strange without you here anymore,” Tom said with a half-smile. “Guess I’ll have to get used to being the main subject of gossip again.”

    Lucas smiled back and nudged Tom with his shoulder. “You guessed right. They’re never short on rumors here.”

    “You know, you were quite the topic of conversation around this place,” Tom said, eyeing Lucas thoughtfully. “The gossip about you even gave the rumors about me a run for their money.”

    Lucas shifted in his seat. “It’s almost all nonsense,” he said. “You of all people should know that.”

    “Then, what isn’t nonsense, Lucas?” Tom Garrickson asked, his sea-green eyes bearing an unnervingly knowing look. “I’ve got a hunch that at least some of those stories are true. Especially that one I heard from Isaac that you could guess what he was thinking.”

   ‘Dammit, Ike,’ Lucas thought, biting the inside of his cheek. A realization came to him. Today he would be leaving for Onett, relocating across the country. The chances of ever meeting anyone from this orphanage were slim, so he decided to come clean. “Well, some of it is true. I can hear thoughts from other people sometimes. I can’t control it all the time.”

    Tom gazed at Lucas, his sea-green eyes searching Lucas’s own. For a moment, Lucas thought he saw a glimmer of recognition before Tom Garrickson nodded. “Then, I want you to look into my thoughts, Lucas.”

    Lucas met Tom’s gaze, surprised by the request. “Are you sure? I mean… why would you want me to do that?”

    Instead of answering, Tom leaned forward, his fingers brushing the nape of Lucas’s neck and pulling him close until their foreheads touched. The unexpected gesture made Lucas flinch, and those sea-green eyes seemed to pierce deep into Lucas’s soul. He caught fleeting flashes of memories: a small house surrounded by snow-capped mountains, a pristine lab, a brief glimpse of a woman with red, flowing hair standing in the middle of a burning room. But then, foreign energy wrapped itself around something deep within his mind, followed by a muffled, indecipherable voice speaking loudly in his head. Searing pain flared behind his eyes for just a second, then everything stopped.

    Tom released him, leaving Lucas disoriented and breathless. “What… what was that?” he whispered, the mysterious word still repeated itself in his mind.

    A smile crossed Tom’s face as he stood up from the bench. “A mutually beneficial trade. You won’t remember me for a while, but that’s probably for the best. Goodbye, Lucas. And take care.”

    Lucas blinked, and in a brief moment, it dawned on him. “Wait, you’re also…?”

    Tom Garrickson held a finger to his lips, playfully winked at him, and then turned to leave.

Chapter Text

A Friend You’ve Never Met

    Ness dragged Blondie’s limp form toward a small park down the narrow street, careful not to jostle the other’s head too much. With a grunt, he deposited Blondie on a park bench. Glancing around, Ness noted that the park was deserted at this time in the evening. Soon after he’d entered the park, a group of teens gathered in the opposite end of the alley in front of the arcade. He couldn’t make out their faces, but silently hoped they weren’t part of the Sharks. A large maple tree and the park’s aged brick fence shielded their position from prying eyes for now. He placed Blondie’s paper shopping bag beside the bench and crouched to examine the unconscious blond. Something about the earlier face-off with the muggers didn’t really add up, but Ness pushed that thought aside, focusing instead on the other boy’s injuries.

    “You took a nasty fall, buddy. Hope you didn’t get a concussion,” Ness murmured, eying the impressive shiner forming on Blondie’s forehead. He drew a breath through his teeth. “That’s gonna be a doozy of a goose egg in the morning.”

    As he said that, the other boy’s eyelids fluttered open. He blinked, disoriented, before he quickly focused on Ness’s curious face mere inches away from his own. Reacting on impulse, Blondie swung his fist, catching Ness in the face and sending him backward, landing firmly on his rear and knocking his cap off his head.

    “Oww! Jeez, what gives?” Ness cried out, clutching his nose. The other boy gazed back, looking equally surprised at his own reaction.

    “Your face… too close,” Blondie slurred, not yet fully lucid. Recognition flickered in his eyes as he sat up. “Ness? Why are you—what are you doing here?”

    “What am I doing here?” Ness touched a hand to his nostrils, and a brief sigh escaped his lips upon seeing no blood. “Nothing. I just got a back-alley nose job, thanks to you.”

He picked himself up and dusted himself off. “I found you passed out on the sidewalk. Could’ve left you to become rat food, but noo, I had to carry you away from whatever mess you got yourself into.” He bent down to pick up his cap. “I thought you might’ve cracked your skull or something, but you’re in good enough shape to crack my nose instead.” Ness paused to put his cap on, before throwing Blondie a pointed look. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

    Blondie took a moment to survey his surroundings, seemingly grasping the situation for the first time. “I… Sorry, I didn’t mean to—,” he admitted, rubbing his temples.

    “Hey. Are you okay?” Ness said, dropping his grouchy act. “You should get that bump looked at. Do you think you can walk, or should I call an ambulance?”

    “It’s just a headache, I’ll be fine,” Blondie muttered, absently grabbing his shopping bag. He looked up, now fully processing what Ness had said earlier. “Hold on. You carried me all the way here?”

    “Well, yeah,” Ness said, crossing his arms. “It wasn’t backbreaking work. You’re like eighty pounds soaking wet. Seriously, Blondie. Eat a sandwich.”

    “For the love of—quit calling me that! My name’s Lucas.”

    “Lucas, huh?” Ness said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nice to finally put a name on the face. Though I gotta say, if I knew I’d be picking you up from the street at night, I would have at least taken you out to dinner first. It’s just the gentlemanly thing to do.”

    Lucas only offered a blank stare in return, and Ness deflated. “That was a joke. Bad timing, I guess. Sorry about that.”

    Lucas’s brain felt a size too big for his skull. He groaned, pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. He stood on wobbly feet, lost his balance and lurched forward.

   “Easy there, pal.” Ness caught him before he could face-plant on the ground another time. He helped Lucas settle back on the park bench. “You really don’t look so hot. Sit tight, I’m getting you some help,” Ness said, rising up and running toward the main street on the other side of the park. Lucas cradled his head and screwed his eyes shut, fighting another rush of lightheadedness. Something… a word was trying to surface in his mind, but his mind felt like a room full of screaming people, and the word escaped his grasp.

    Tel…

    Lucas concentrated harder. That damn word was just on the tip of his tongue, but something was missing, like trying to turn a set of misaligned gears. A clear image of his own bedroom flashed through his mind, and the gears fell into place. As if his body acted on its own, he rose up again and began walking with faltering steps that soon became more sure as he picked up his pace.

    Tele…

    At the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel, Ness glanced back to see Lucas shambling straight back into the alley they’d just left.

    “Hey, where the hell are you going? Those goons could still be over there!” Ness called after Lucas. He cursed and ran after him.

    Lucas barely registered Ness’s distant call as he ducked into the alley.

    “…Teleport,” he whispered slowly, as if reading a foreign script he’d just learned. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving behind a loud pop resembling a book slamming shut in his wake.

    Ness flinched at the noise just as he rounded the alley’s corner, his hand outstretched and expecting to grab Lucas’s arm. His fingers closed on empty air instead. Momentum propelled him forward and he stumbled, barely catching himself from falling. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the alley in front of him bereft of blond weirdos. The loitering teens glanced his way before returning to their idle chatter. For a moment, he wondered if he’d lost his mind and hallucinated Lucas’s presence, but the vague throb in his nose reminded him of the left hook Lucas gave him minutes earlier.

    Ness scanned the area again, “Blondie? Where’d you go?” he called out, looking around. Lucas was nowhere to be seen.

• • •

    One second ago, Lucas was in that park with Ness. The next thing he knew, he stumbled and crashed onto the floor, the displaced air around him creating a muffled boom noise. He rolled over and clutched his abdomen, taking deep, steadying breaths to force down an overpowering urge to be sick. He lay there for a few moments until the nausea subsided, then he pushed himself up on his elbows and swallowed down the taste of bile in the back of his throat.

    It was a few seconds before his comprehension caught up with his senses and realized that he was somehow on the floor of his own bedroom. He recalled a pair of sea-green eyes and a knowing smirk. A voice he hadn’t heard in a long time cut through the jumbled thoughts. ‘Think of it as a parting gift.’

Lucas wondered why did Tom Garrickson’s words suddenly make sense after so long. It struck him as odd how little thought he’d given Tom since leaving Fourside. The only other person he’d ever met who probably could do… whatever this was.

    An apple rolled to his feet, and Lucas noticed the paper bag he’d been holding sprawled beside him, its contents strewn across the room. A sigh escaped his lips. First, he’d deal with this mess and store away the groceries. It was lucky Desmond and Molly were out tonight to attend one of their incredibly boring soirées. Otherwise, he would’ve had a lot of explaining to do. He retched a little. Some parting gift, Tom Garrickson.

    After putting away the last item from the shopping bag, he heard a key turning inside the front door. A moment later, his adoptive parents shuffled inside. Molly wore a very formal blue dress, while Desmond was in a tux. The couple walked over to the living room, happily exchanging remarks about the party. Lucas greeted them as he passed by, only to stop at their dumbfounded expressions. An awkward silence ensued for a moment.

    “…What,” Lucas said, prickling under their bug-eyed expressions.

    “Oh my goodness, Lucas!” Molly cried out, rushing over and gently tilting his chin with a finger. “What on earth happened to your face?”

    Right, that. He’d almost forgotten about smacking his head on the sidewalk when he’d passed out. Now that she mentioned it, his forehead throbbed uncomfortably right above his brow. He still needed to explain himself, it seemed.

    “I tripped on the way and hit my head,” he half-lied. “I’m fine though. I think it looks worse than it feels.”

    They apparently bought his excuse, since neither press any further, but they continued to fuss over him.

    “Get that scrape cleaned, boy,” Desmond said. “You probably want to put something cold on it, too.”

    “Come, sweetie,” Molly cooed. “I’ll make an ice pack. You go to the bathroom and clean that up, okay?”

    He nodded, and stepped towards the bathroom. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. The bruise above his brow was swollen and purple, with a few specks of blood oozing from a cut. Luckily it was Friday, so he had the weekend to recover without having to show up to school looking rough.

    Cleaning the scrape and applying antiseptic, his thoughts wandered to Ness and why had he gone to the trouble of rescuing him. The only time they spoke, Lucas must’ve come across as some neurotic loner after that ridiculous spat at school. And now, he’d punched Ness and vanished without an explanation, hardly a thank you. What an impression he must’ve left. If Ness decided to sock him back in revenge, Lucas admitted he probably deserved it.

    When he emerged from the bathroom, Molly sat in the living room waiting with a rubber ice pack. He applied it to his forehead, briefly hissing at the stinging cold. Molly reached out, her fingers brushing his shoulder hesitantly. He leaned in, letting her pull him closer.

    “Does it hurt a lot? Your head, I mean,” she asked.

    He shook his head, and Molly gently brushed away the hair that fell over his face.

    “You should get a haircut soon,” she said, smiling at him and stroking his hair, the rhythmic motion made him relax. Lucas thanked his lucky stars that, for once, he was too frazzled to read her thoughts. He looked in her eyes, and saw concern, maybe even love.

    He settled further into Molly’s embrace, letting his head rest on her shoulder. The now-familiar scent of her perfume wafted around him, and he felt a sense of safety he hadn’t felt since that day when the Pigmasks marched on Tazmily.

    That night, he went early to bed. His throat was parched and his muscles ached. He tossed and turned, unable to find a position that offered any comfort. The room felt too warm, and the air too thick. His pulse pounded in his ears as if he’d just sprinted a marathon. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, disjointed, feverish visions of familiar faces danced through his mind.

    Ness picking sunflowers with him and Hinawa.
    Molly making omelets in Alec’s log house.
    Claus playing in the Twoson preschool with Paula.
    Paula carrying a bucket of water towards the well in Tazmily.
    Claus’s horrified face as the building collapsed on top of Lucas and his family.
    Claus’s anguished face from his nightmare cried out.

    Lucas didn’t know when sleep finally claimed him.

• • •

    Lucas woke up feeling refreshed. In fact, he felt like a million bucks despite overexerting himself the day before. When he looked at the wall clock, its hands pointed at exactly three in the afternoon.

    Did I sleep for this long? he thought, pulling up his window blinds. The afternoon light assaulted his still-sensitive eyes, making him squint. He scratched his side and let out a huge yawn, wondering how he’d been left to sleep so late. A quick glance at the front lawn revealed the absence of the dog and the family car. He had the house to himself today. Whoopee.

    A shower was overdue. The lengthy sleep and accumulated grime of two days straight made his skin itch. He grabbed a fresh change of clothes from his closet and stepped into the bathroom. He gasped as he looked at the bruise on his face in the mirror.

    Or more like, where it used to be.

    His reflection showed only smooth, unmarked skin. Lucas inspected his reflection, wondering if his eyes played tricks on him. This never happened before, and explaining this to his parents will be one fine mess. Pushing the thought aside for now, he ran a hand through his hair. It looked like a bowl of spaghetti on top of his head. One lengthy shower later, he got dressed and left a note for his parents, telling them he would come back before dinner.

    After a short bus ride to Twoson, Lucas headed towards the barber shop he frequently visited with Desmond. A while later, Lucas stepped outside, appreciating the feeling of the cool breeze on his freshly groomed hair. The nice weather compelled him to roam the small town’s streets. He walked along the sidewalk when two people burst into his path, a young man a few years older than him and a stout middle-aged lady, both dressed from head to toe in blue and seemed to vibrate with barely contained joy.

    “Hey there, champ!” The teen said, thrusting a pamphlet under Lucas’s nose. “Have you heard the good news about our church in Peaceful Rest Valley? We’re just a twenty-minute drive from here.”

    Lucas shook his head and accepted the pamphlet, giving it a cursory skim. The text on it touted the church’s dedication to the “Nowhere Islander religion of happiness,” which made him frown. Such a religion was news to him, and Grandpa Alec had taught him everything about their faith. His gaze drifted to the cartoon monkey that danced across the other page. It had periwinkle fur and a grin so wide it looked manic. The speech bubbles near the monkey read:

    Congratulations are in order for the hard work you put in every single day!

    I’ve come here today to give you all wonderful news…about happiness!

The teen continued talking as Lucas read, “You see, our Church takes after the tradition of the Tazmily tribes. We believe in spreading joy and happiness just as they did.”

    Lucas looked up for a split-second to give the teen evangelist a quizzical look. Was there a different Tazmily than the one he grew up in? Curiosity compelled him further down the page. The monkey now made a handstand on its own speech bubbles.

    Isn’t it human nature to want to be happy? To live with a smile on your face? But I have good news for you! Today is your lucky day! You can obtain happiness very easily.

    Lucas tried to focus on the remaining words, but one of the evangelists —the older lady, he thought— had a constant mantra blaring in her head.

    Blue blue blue blue…

    His eyes began to glaze over as the word echoed in his head like a pealing church bell.

   Blue ^blue blue _blue…

    The word repeated itself enough that it began to lose its meaning.

    Blue blew brew flue…

    Blue, c’est quoi? Bleu! Très bon.

    He felt a firm grip on his sleeve. Lucas looked up to see the older teen holding him. “There’s nothing bad about having too much happiness, is there?” The teen said, flashing him a broad grin. “Now why don’t you come with me? Don’t worry, we can make you very happy.”

    The lady beside the teen just stared at him with the same grin, not uttering a word.

    Just then, a familiar voice called out to him. He snapped from his weird trance-like state and looked up, spotting a girl in a familiar pastel frock emerging from a stationery shop across the street.

    “Afternoon, Lucas,” Paula called out as she approached. She glanced at the two evangelists. “Oh. Hi again.”

    At her presence, the evangelists’ previously sunny disposition cooled, with the teen spitting out a ‘Tsk’ as he let go of Lucas. Lucas stammered a quick “Thanks for the pamphlet,” and practically ducked behind Paula.

    The blue-clad pair shifted back to their earlier exuberance. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you both,” the teen chirped. “Please drop by our church. If even just one more of us can achieve happiness, all will be right in the world!”

    Paula watched the two stalk out of sight, then turned a confused look to Lucas. “Pushy folks?”

    Feeling more at ease, Lucas shrugged. “Very. They have a real oddball take on Islander faith.” As soon as the blue-clad figures disappeared around a corner, Lucas chucked the monkey-themed pamphlet into a nearby trash can.

    “They are a weird bunch,” Paula said. “They were at our house yesterday. That kid almost fast-talked dad into signing up with them, but Mom and I shut them down and asked them to leave.” She gave Lucas a sidelong glance. “You weren’t about to come with him, were you?”

   “What? Psh, no. I was… a little curious.” He turned to her with an attempt at casual conversation, “Anyway, what are you up to?”

    “I was just grabbing some writing supplies,” she said, holding up a stack of fancy paper and envelopes.

    “You’re not writing a love letter, are you? Who’s the lucky guy?”

    Paula laughed. “No, silly. I’m writing to my pen pal.”

    He looked puzzled. “Pen pal?”

    Paula nodded. “It’s like a friend you’ve never met. We write to each other and share stories. It’s quite fun!”

    “That sounds… unique.”

    “Come, I’ll show you one of the letters. Maybe you can even write with me if you’re up for it.”

    They began to walk side by side towards the preschool where Paula’s family lived. As they approached, Lucas noticed Paula’s mom and his adoptive aunt, Isabella, outside diligently tacking an ad onto the preschool’s notice board. The poster read “Part-time Assistant Needed.”

    “Lucas!” Isabella greeted when she spotted the pair, flashing them a smile. “Good to see you. I’m looking for someone to help around here. Interested?”

    Lucas blinked, taken aback. “I… uh, I’ll consider it, ma’am. Thank you for the offer.”

    Paula chuckled and nudged Lucas along. “Mom’s always on the lookout for extra hands. Plus, she thinks you’re great company.”

    Lucas's cheeks warmed, and he cleared his throat. “Thanks. I’m horrible with kids, though.”

    Inside, the warm scent of baked cookies filled the air. They headed over to the kitchen bar where Paul, Paula’s dad, meticulously arranged a batch of cookies on a cooling rack.

    “Oh, Paula?” he said when he noticed his daughter. “You might want to watch where you leave your letters. One of the children almost turned one into a paper airplane earlier.”

    Paula’s eyes widened. “Oh no, not the one that came this morning?”

    Paul laughed. “No, thank goodness. I’ve stashed your letters in the drawer by the radio. Just be a bit more careful next time.” He then looked up and saw Lucas, his lips curving into a smile. “Ah, Lucas!” He exclaimed, wiping his hands on an apron and sauntering over to offer a handshake. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

    Lucas, momentarily stiff, returned the handshake. “I’ve been well, sir. Thank you.”

    Paula leaned closer to Lucas as her dad returned to tend to the cookies. “You know, someday I’ll get you to call him Uncle Paul,” she whispered.

    “Dream on,” Lucas whispered back, smirking.

    Paula fished out a pile of letters from the drawer Paul indicated and selected the most recent one. Lucas skimmed the paper, noting the neat handwriting and the emblem of a boarding school. Snow Wood Boarding House.

    “This letter is from Toni. She lives in a boarding school in Winters,” Paula said. “It’s like something out of an old-timey story, isn't it?”

    Lucas skimmed over a long passage where the writer gushed about a boy she seemed to like. “Looks like somebody’s head over heels.”

    “Absolutely. She never stops talking about him.”

    “Hey, how does a girl in a boarding school even meet a boy? Seems a bit unlikely.”

    Paula shrugged. “Who knows? Toni didn't go into details, but boarding schools aren't exactly prisons, you know. She could’ve met him anywhere. Plus, seems like she’s got a soft spot for a certain type.”

    Lucas looked at her curiously.

    “She’s mad about this shy, smart blond guy,” Paula said, then threw him a sly look. “Now where have I seen one of those before?”

    Lucas snorted and rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Paula.”

    Paula took out a sheet of paper and began drafting a response. When she finished, she handed the paper and pen to Lucas. “Would you like to add something?”

    Lucas hesitated for a moment before jotting down a few lines:

    Hi Toni, I’m Paula’s cousin. She told me all about pen pals today. Sounds interesting! If you’d like, I’d be happy to send you one of the flowers from my garden next time. Looking forward to your reply. Address attached.

    Paula skimmed the lines and raised a questioning look at him. “Are you going to sign it? You can use a pen name if you don’t feel like sharing your real name.”

    Lucas tapped the pen to his chin. A pen name… He wordlessly reached for the page and signed it:

    Best wishes,
    Claus.

   “Huh, that’s an unusual choice,” Paula said over his shoulder as she read the addition. She paused for a moment. “Oh, it’s your name just with the letters shuffled around, isn’t it? Clever.”

    “Yeah,” Lucas said with a distant smile. “It is.”

    She beamed in approval, placing the letter in a small envelope. “Oh, Toni’s going to love this.”

Chapter Text

A Trip to the Big City

    Lucas whistled to himself as he tended to his backyard flowers. A crisp breeze gently rustled the plants surrounding the mounds of soil concealing the freshly planted dahlias. Molly wanted marigolds, but the florist didn’t have any on hand. He scraped dirt off his trowel and patted his shorts, before standing up and cocking his head to the side to assess the straightness of the wooden stakes next to the dahlia tubers. It was a tranquil morning, so much so that the sudden eruption of loud barking made him jump.

    He practically sprinted around the house to find the family’s dog barreling in a ball of fur and slobber toward the mailman, who ducked behind the front yard fence and held out his satchel as a shield.

    “Boney, stop!” Lucas’s voice almost cracked as he shouted at his dog. The dog skidded to a halt, just feet away from the petrified mailman.

    “Are you okay, sir?” Lucas said, reaching both the man and Boney who was now sitting, looking up at his owner as he lolled his tongue.

    The mailman straightened up, adjusting his hat and dusting off his jacket. “I don’t get paid enough to be some dog’s chew toy,” he muttered, reaching into his leather satchel and brandishing a handful of envelopes at Lucas, who took them with an apologetic grimace.

    “I’m really sorry about the dog—”

    “Save it, kid,” the mailman cut him off, then jerked a finger at an envelope with a red stamp. “This one’s postage due. Three cents.”

    Lucas winced, then fished out some coins from his pocket and held them out to the mailman. “Sorry again, sir.”

    The mailman took the coins with a grunt. “Keep that dog of yours on a leash, or it’s going to the pound,” he said as he turned on his heels and continued down the street.

    With a sigh, Lucas slumped down on the steps of the front porch. Boney sat at his feet, oblivious to the consequences of his shenanigans.

    “You’re a real handful sometimes, you know that?” Lucas said. Boney only looked at Lucas with those big, soulful eyes and nosed at his knee, eliciting a reluctant grin from the boy. He scratched behind Boney’s ears. “Ah. How can I ever stay mad at you?”

    He turned his attention to the pile of letters in his lap and began leafing through them. A bill here, some ad flyers there, and a letter or two to either Desmond or Molly. He paused at one of the envelopes. Unlike the others, it was addressed to him specifically. It couldn’t have been from Toni in Winters since he and Paula had just sent a letter last week. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a return address from Fourside of all places.

    Now curious, Lucas tore the envelope open, and a few fancy-looking pages slid into his lap. He flipped through the papers, his eyes drawn to the bizarre coat of arms at the top-center of the first page, and the words embossed into the expensive paper:

    “Master Lucas?” Lucas wrinkled his nose at the unnecessarily pompous language. This must have been a mistake. His history with Pokey wasn’t the best, so why would the Minches invite him anywhere?

    He skimmed the other pages. The invitation was indeed a three-day stay in Fourside, starting on the Friday before the theater’s inauguration. Students would visit several landmarks in the city and stay at one of Fourside’s prominent hotels. Another page contained plain consent forms addressed to parents and guardians and more information about the trip’s itinerary and accommodation arrangements.

    Lucas bet his bottom dollar Pokey would strut through the school as if he owned it after this. He might as well, considering his dad was probably paying lots of money to get his academic failure of a son into this school.

    He brushed his hands on his shorts once more before gathering the envelopes in his lap and getting up.

    “Don’t go around chasing anyone, Boney,” he called to the dog over his shoulder, then headed inside. He set down the mail on the coffee table and grabbed the phone. He dialed Paula’s house number, and a few moments later, her voice crackled through.

    “Hello?”

    “Paula, it’s Lucas,” he said, flopping down on the couch. “By any chance, did you get a fancy letter from the Minches today?”

    “Oh! You mean those folks with the Fourside theater? Yeah, I’ve got it right here,” Paula said, and Lucas could hear her smirk through the receiver. “Are you interested in attending that ‘landmark event’ of theirs?”

    Lucas snorted. “Sure, and ‘bask in the majesty‘ of Eagleland’s prosperity while I’m at it. Who writes this stuff?”

    “The same people who are paid to tell you that Mrs. Minch’s meatloaf and mayonnaise pie is the best thing since sliced bread.”

    “I bet someone’s trying real hard to pad their attendance numbers.”

    “Hush, you. The Minches must feel that we unsophisticated yokels could broaden our horizons with a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the big town. We should be forever grateful.”

    The two laughed, and there was a brief lull in their conversation.

    “Well?” Paula asked. “Are you going?”

    The very idea of going back to Fourside felt like swallowing a frog. Lucas didn’t miss that polluted cesspit for one second.

    “Dunno,” he said, shifting the phone to his other ear and absently twirling the phone cord between his fingers. “Maybe not.”

    “You could use a visit to Fourside, Lucas,” she said. “You haven’t properly seen it while you were there. There are lots of things to see and do.”

   “I lived there for two years, you know. Been there, done that.”

    “Come on, Lucas, you’re sounding like an old man! Just think about it. Who can say no to a few days in Fourside on someone else’s dime?”

    “Yes, but—”

    “I know, I know,” Paula cut him off. “But I’m telling you, it’ll be fun. I’ll make sure of it, and if that Pokey bothers you, I’ll kick his butt.”

    That drew an honest-to-goodness laugh from Lucas. “Thanks, Paula. I’ll think about it.”

    At any rate, he wasn’t sure Desmond and Molly would ever entertain the idea of him going away to Fourside for a few days.

• • •

    “You are definitely going!” Desmond and Molly cried out in unison. Lucas winced, cursing himself for showing them the invitation in the first place. He should’ve let Boney eat the mailman.

    “Why?” he asked. They shot him an incredulous stare.

    “Why?” Molly said. “You can’t be serious. Honey, you should learn to have some fun instead of being cooped up in your room or the backyard all the time.”

    “When I was your age, a school trip to the Big City was like a dream come true,” Desmond said.

    “But it’s an invite from the Minches,” Lucas said, not caring about how whiny he sounded. “I don’t like them, and neither do you.”

    “Lucas, sweetie,” Molly said, patting his arm. “Who cares about the Minches? Think of this as a great chance for you to make friends. You can’t expect to spend your whole school life hiding behind Paula.”

    “Travel builds character,” Desmond continued. “I think you’ll enjoy the journey as well as the sights in Fourside.”

    Lucas could hear Molly thinking as she snuck a sly look at her husband. ‘And it’s a good excuse as any to have the house to ourselves. I have just the thing I can’t wait to wear in—’

    He felt his ears glow in mortification. “Okay, okay,” he yelled over her thoughts. “I’ll go! Just… You’ll need to sign these papers.”

    The pair threw him a disapproving look.

    “…Please,” Lucas added, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

    Throughout the entire week, Lucas kept finding interesting patterns on the floor whenever he sat in the same room with Molly.

• • •

    The next Monday after school, Lucas approached the gathering crowd of students in the hallway. It appeared the staff put up a list showing room assignments during the Fourside trip. Trying to get a better view, Lucas waded through hubbub and shuffling kids to look for his name on the list.

    Behind him, two boys from the baseball team laughed and pointed at the bulletin board. “Check out Ness. He’s been paired with some freshman,” one of them said, nudging his pal.

    “Ha, who put him on babysitting duty?”

    Lucas ignored the two, still searching for his own name. It seemed that the school divided the students into several groups, each under the supervision of one teacher, and two students would stay in one room. He found his name under the supervision of Mrs. Pirkle, their civics teacher, and he would stay with…

    Lucas sighed, understanding now what the two sophomores found so funny. Of all the people he could have been paired with, he got Ness, the person he’d hoped to avoid the most, counting out Pokey of course.

    Upstairs, he found his elderly supervising teacher sitting in her stifling office, shivering despite being clad in half a dozen woolen shawls. A radiator hissed away in the corner of her office despite the unseasonably warm weather outside. As he tugged at the collar of his shirt, he told the teacher he wished to change roommates.

    “Your roommate was already switched before the list came up,” Mrs. Pirkle said, throwing him a flat look as she draped a shawl across her spindly neck. “Ness was previously paired with Pokey Minch, but he requested a change.”

    Lucas’s eyes widened. “Oh. He did?”

    “Yes, and I agreed to it. I thought you could benefit from rooming with someone as sociable as Ness,” Mrs. Pirkle said, then she studied him briefly. “In fact, I was a little skeptical since I know you two haven’t interacted much before.” Her face lit up with what she must’ve thought was a stroke of genius. “I know! Maybe you could share a room with Pokey instead. You two were classmates last year, weren’t you?”

    “With Pokey?” Lucas’s voice rose an octave before he composed himself. “No, that… that won’t be necessary, Mrs. Pirkle.”

    He wouldn’t voluntarily put himself in a room with Pokey Minch. The thought alone was enough to make him want to back out of the trip altogether. “Can’t I just ask another teacher to switch us?” Lucas said, then immediately realized his tactlessness when Mrs. Pirkle scowled, her pinched face tightening as the lines in her forehead deepened. “I mean, uh…”

    “No you may not,” the teacher said, waving her hand airily. “I think your arrangement is fine as it is. Run along, boy.”

• • •

    Arriving early on Saturday morning, Lucas spotted a crowd of students milling around outside the school, waiting for the gate to open. Most kids grumbled about losing hours of much-needed sleep, having woken up early for no good reason. Among them, Ness and Paula were chatting animatedly by the street corner. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, he walked past the duo. Paula looked up and waved at him.

    “Morning, Lucas,” she chirped. He winced, paused, then turned around and offered them a strained smile.

    “Good morning,” he said, a hint of stiffness in his voice. Paula seemed too lively at this ungodly hour, holding a camera inside a leather case with foldable accordion bellows, while Ness retained a cautiously neutral gaze.

    Lucas’s gaze fell to the camera in Paula’s hand as she affixed a lightbulb to its side. In an attempt to start some conversation, he pointed at the device. “Is that a new camera?” he asked.

    Paula grinned, presenting the camera to him. “Yes! It’s called a polaroid, and it prints pictures instantly.” She aimed it at his face. “Say fuzzy pickles!”

    Before Lucas could react, she pushed a button and a flash of light momentarily dazzled him. “Hey! I wasn’t ready,” he said, blinking back the stars in his eyes.

    “That’s the best part,” Paula said, pulling the emerging photograph from the camera and waved it gently in the air before turning it down away from light. “Candid photos are the most genuine.”

    Curious, Ness reached out to flip the photo over. Paula quickly swatted his hand away. “Give it a second, Ness. Light can ruin it.”

    A minute later, Paula flipped the photo over. It revealed Lucas gazing directly into the lens with surprise and curiosity. Ness stood smiling to the side glancing at Lucas.

    “I think we look pretty good here,” Ness said. “This one’s a keeper.”

    “I’m a photographic genius, if I do say so myself,” Paula said with a grin. She handed the photo to Lucas. “Here you go. Your first souvenir from today’s trip.”

    Lucas gingerly accepted the photograph and placed it in his bag. The three heard the school gate open, and the students quickly filed into the courtyard. Lucas followed them inside, tailed by Paula and Ness. A teacher’s voice cut through the chatter, instructing students to stand in front of their assigned teacher. With a quick “see you” to Paula, Ness turned and followed Lucas, who made his way toward Mrs. Pirkle and the others standing near a Silverside bus that dwarfed the usual school buses. The pair awkwardly stood beside the line to the bus.

    “Looks like it’s you and me, huh?” Ness said. His gaze was even as he watched the students ahead climb into the bus. “I hope you don’t get carsick easily.”

    Lucas blinked. Ness didn’t bother bringing up what had happened the other day. He decided to play along, “Well, if I end up throwing up today, I’ll try and aim away from your shoes,” he said.

    Ness winked at him. “And if you also have to sock me and pull a Houdini afterward, try to aim away from my nose. It still hurts from last week, you know.”

    “Right, sorry,” Lucas said, flushing. He mentally kicked himself. Of course Ness would bring up that encounter at some point. “I’ll, uh, I’ll make sure none of that happens this time.”

    After a beat of awkward silence, Ness dropped his grin and looked seriously at Lucas. “Look, you don’t gotta explain anything about last week. I’m just glad you’re okay after all.” His gaze shifted to the ground. “And, uh, I also wanted to say sorry for being an ass at lunch a while back. I was just trying to be funny, not a jerk.”

    This was not how Lucas imagined this conversation going. He’d expected a barrage of questions or a confrontation about why he’d disappeared so suddenly that day. Instead, Ness was already over it and even apologizing for something Lucas had given so little thought it made him want to laugh.

    “Thanks,” Lucas stammered. “I mean, you weren’t being an ass. I think I just took it the wrong way. And about last week—I… really should say sorry for, well, punching you and running off like I did.”

    “No worries,” Ness smirked and extended his hand. “Then how about we start fresh from here?”

    Lucas cracked a half-smile and shook Ness’s hand. “Sounds good to me.”

    As they boarded the bus, Lucas focused intently on the back of Ness’s head. As usual, he couldn’t hear a single thing from the other boy’s mind. The more Lucas focused on Ness, the quieter the usual chatter of stray thoughts around him became. For the first time since he could remember, Lucas sat in a bus of full people with a comfortable silence in his head.

    He was so lost in the strange mental silence that he almost walked into Ness, who was stowing away his bag overhead.

    “Here, lemme put this up for you,” Ness offered, gesturing toward Lucas’s bag. Lucas handed his bag over with a ‘thanks’.

    “Hey, mind if I take the aisle seat?” Ness said as he stowed the bag away. “I get restless on buses. I need to move around and such.”

    “Sure.”

    Lucas slid into the window seat just as Pokey climbed into the bus. He pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for peace of mind.

    Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Pokey’s expression twisted as if he’d smelled something foul. Then, spotting Ness, his face broke into a broad grin.

    “Ness, buddy! Long time no see,” Pokey said, and Ness immediately stiffened. “What’s a cool cat like you doing slumming it with this square? You should come sit with me instead.”

    Ness shrank into his seat as Pokey made his way to where he sat. “Oh. Hey, Pokey. Uh, that’s alright. I think I’m good here—”

    “Nonsense,” Pokey waved his hand and motioned for Ness to get up. “C’mon, ditch this pansy. We gotta catch up over the ride.”

    Lucas sensed an opportunity to get under Pokey’s skin. He clapped a hand on Ness’s shoulder to keep him in place. “Isn’t it very middle-class of you to ‘slum it’ with us on a bus?” he said. “And Ness isn’t going anywhere. We’ve got assigned seats and all.”

    Pokey’s grin clouded over as soon as Lucas opened his mouth, and Lucas couldn’t help but smirk at that.

    “Butt out,” Pokey said. “No one talked to you.”

    Ness eyed Lucas’s smug expression and Pokey’s sour look and gave a nervous laugh. “Ladies, please. There’s enough of me to go around—ow!”

    Lucas elbowed him to shut him up, still holding eye contact with Pokey and flashing that self-satisfied smirk.

    Pokey looked like he was about to argue further, but a long line of grumbling students behind him began to call on him to get moving already, prompting him to finally slink into the seat behind Lucas with a thud. Lucas could hear Pokey’s irritated thoughts.

    ‘Who invited him to my trip? Ness was supposed to spend time with me! Not with this creep.’

    Throughout the ride, Lucas endured Pokey’s petty kicks, pinches and hair pulling. He noticed that Pokey’s seatmate pretended to be captivated by his own shoes, and the other students nearby shot fleeting glances of pity at Lucas, but no one dared risk drawing Pokey’s attention.

    Eventually, Pokey licked his pinky before he leaned over and jammed it inside Lucas’s ear. Lucas flinched hard, his arm accidentally smacking Ness in the side of the head and knocking off his cap. Ness picked up his hat from the floor and shot Lucas an aggravated look, to which Lucas offered a sheepish apology. Ness rolled his eyes once he saw Pokey laughing heartily, his body vibrating as he cackled.

    For the most part, Ness kept to himself, engrossed in a comic magazine and occasional chatter with nearby students, including Pokey’s seatmate. As the two laughed over an inside joke in Ness’s comics, Pokey kept trying to worm his way into their conversation. Ness cut him off with an exasperated, “Sorry, Pokey, but no one asked.” Lucas couldn’t help but snicker at the snub, earning himself a smack upside the head from a flustered Pokey.

    Halfway through the trip, the bus stopped at a gas station to refuel. Ness sprang out of his seat and stretched his legs, saying he wanted to grab snacks from the store next to the gas station. Lucas wanted a bottle of water, so he got up and followed Ness out of the bus.

    Inside the tiny store, Lucas picked up a chilled bottle of water before a flashy box of candy caught his eye. The box featured artwork of flaming meteorites hurtling down to Earth. The meteorites looked similar to the candy inside: bright cherry-red orbs wrapped in cellophane. The label on the box read, “Great Balls of Fire”, with a tagline, “Spicy enough to shake your nerves and rattle your brain!” printed in exaggerated type below.

    An idea began forming in his mind. He grabbed a handful of the spicy-looking candy and paid at the front, passing by Ness who hauled in an armful of snacks and drinks. Back on the bus, Lucas made his way to his spot, only to find Pokey blocking his way with an overly pleased expression on his face. Lucas halted in the middle of the narrow aisle.

    “What’s the matter, shrimp?” Pokey said. A constant stream of ‘Heh heh heh heh’ emanated from his thoughts.

    Lucas clenched his jaw. “That nickname doesn’t fit anymore, Pokey.” He stood up straight, almost eye-to-eye with Pokey. Over the past year, he’d caught up in height, and he wasn’t about to let the fat bully belittle him. “Now scram. I need to sit.”

    Pokey chortled, then slunk back into his place. With a quick glance at his own seat, Lucas saw a streak of what looked like a huge loogie smeared across the cushion. He groaned in disgust.

    A moment later, Ness climbed into the bus with two bags filled to the brim with snacks in his arms. Noticing Lucas standing, he tilted his head to the side, and Lucas sighed and nodded at the mess.

    “Someone thinks he’s being funny and left a mess on my seat,” Lucas said, jerking a thumb toward Pokey. “Got a tissue I could borrow please?”

    “I’m surrounded by a bunch of children, I swear,” Ness shook his head, adjusting the bags in his hold before fishing out a pack of tissues from his pocket. “Here you go. Good thing I’m always here to bail you out.”

    “Thanks.” Lucas felt his cheeks heat up. He didn’t need Ness getting smart with him right now. He unfolded the tissue and wiped away the mess. The bus was fitted with faux leather seats and not the usual moquette, so the slimy stain came away quickly with one swipe of the napkin.

    Out of spite, Lucas reached down and stuffed the soiled napkin inside Pokey’s open bag. Pokey failed to notice, opting to pester Ness into forking over some snacks.

    Lucas nudged Ness with his elbow and Ness gave him a curious glance. Without looking his way, Lucas fished out the candy from his pocket and held them out to Ness. A grin crossed Ness’s face as he took the candy and pushed them into Pokey’s expectant hand. Lucas watched Pokey enthusiastically tear through the wrappers and greedily wolf down three of the candies at once. Biting back a grin, Lucas watched Pokey’s face turn beet-red as he wheezed and coughed.

    Eat that, Minch.

Chapter Text

At the Zoo

    Paula was spot-on when she said Lucas hadn’t properly seen Fourside. The towers loomed larger as the bus sped down the suspension bridge that linked Fourside to the mainland. The skyline had been a constant, distant backdrop during his time in the city, but up close, the towers appeared bigger and almost overwhelming.

    The bus came to a stop in front of a large hotel in Midtown, and the students filed out noisily into the spacious lobby, guided by chaperones and hotel staff. After everyone checked in and staff had taken care of the luggage, the teachers wasted no time in shepherding the students back into the buses for their next destination: the Central Park Zoo. This was still a field trip, after all. They had to go learn about things.

    Once at the zoo, Lucas and Ness joined the other groups who had arrived minutes before they did. They stood in front of a large brick portico with a wooden roof. A tour guide lady arrived to welcome them to Fourside’s Central Park Menagerie.

    Lucas’s idea of zoos was that they were places with various animals locked miserably inside filthy wire cages, but this place was sprawling, blending with the rest of the park with large enclosures for the animals to roam around in. Among the large trees and the greenery, the skyscrapers in the distance appeared almost out of place.

    The teachers did a quick head count while the tour guide instructed the students to stick to the zoo’s paths and not to feed the animals or wander off. The students were then allowed to roam the zoo in pairs or small groups, with the promise of a group photo at the end of the day.

    Ness turned to Lucas. “Hey, wanna team up for—”

    Before he could finish, Pokey wedged himself between the two and looped an arm around Ness’s shoulders, pulling him away from Lucas.

    “Ness! Just the fella I was looking for,” he said, clapping Ness on the back and almost knocking him off his feet. “I was thinking we should team up for the day. You know, buddies stick together and all that.”

    “Oh. Uh, sure, Pokey,” Ness said, trying to wiggle out of Pokey’s grip. “But I was actually going to team up with Lucas.”

    Pokey didn’t seem to hear that last part — or pretended not to hear as he had already started dragging Ness away.

    “Great! It’s settled then,” Pokey said. “All the creatures around here suck. Let’s check out the cool ones first.”

    Ness looked about as thrilled as a cat being carried to a sink full of water. He shot Lucas a pleading look, but Lucas just shrugged. He didn’t want to be around Pokey any more than he had to, so he waved the two off. “Go on ahead, Ness. I’ll catch up with you later.”

    Paula strolled up to Lucas as Pokey dragged Ness ahead of the group. She watched them with a look of disappointment.

    “Ugh, that’s just peachy,” she huffed. “I just turned down Nancy to pair up with Ness, and now that fat turd is hogging him.”

    “Oh well,” Lucas said. “If it means Pokey stays out of my hair for the rest of the trip, he can keep Ness all to himself.”

    Paula smirked. “What, did Pokey give you grief on the bus?”

    “You said you’d kick his butt if he did,” Lucas said, grinning. “I was looking forward to seeing that.”

    “I would have, but I think he’s too busy with poor Ness to bother with you now.” She took his hand. “Well, since we’re both free, how about you and I team up?”

    “Sure, I’d like that.”

    The two toured the zoo grounds, stopping by enclosures to watch the animals. Paula went through her first roll of film in half an hour, taking pictures of every animal they saw. Lucas followed her, observing the enclosures and the animals roaming inside. It was a warm day, and most of the animals were lazing about in the shade or in the water. Lucas occasionally spotted zookeepers feeding the animals or cleaning the enclosures.

    “The animals are happy enough,” he remarked. “They don’t seem to mind the people too much. Some of them actually enjoy the attention.”

    “Really?” Paula said, glancing his way. “How can you tell?”

    “Just a hunch,” Lucas said, his lips curling into a lopsided grin.

    They passed by clusters of fellow students who were chatting among themselves or gawking at the animals. Lucas spotted Ness and Pokey at a distance, with Pokey pointing at an animal in the distance and Ness looking uninterested. Lucas felt a little bad for leaving Ness with Pokey, but he didn’t know the reason why Pokey clung to Ness like stink on a monkey. Perhaps the two knew each other from before.

    Eventually, Lucas and Paula stopped by a smaller, quieter enclosure that housed some sheep. The sight and smell of the sheep took Lucas back to his old home on the Islands. He could almost see the log house of his childhood and the family farm where he grew up. He wondered whether the ruins of his hometown still stood, or if the forest had reclaimed the village by now.

    “They kind of reek,” Paula said, holding her nose.

    Lucas chuckled. “I guess they do. I grew up around sheep, so it’s a good reek to me. My family kept a flock of them on the farm.”

    A wistful smile tugged at his lips as his thoughts shifted to the days when he used to help his dad on the farm along with Claus. His twin would always be the one to do most of the work, and Lucas would often get distracted playing with the animals instead of filling the water troughs or milking the ewes.

    He was lost in thought and didn’t notice Paula aiming her camera at him. She clicked the button, and the whir of the film advancing snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked at her.

    “Did you just take a picture of me?” he said.

    “Yup.” She took the emerging photo and quickly slipped it into her purse. “Between you and the sheep, I think you’re the more interesting animal around here.”

    “Gee, thanks.”

    “And you were smiling for a second there,” she said. “I just had to capture that.”

    Paula aimed the camera at him again, and he responded by crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue at her. She laughed and took the picture.

    Down the path, they saw a group of students gathered around a large enclosure. Paula’s eyes lit up when she saw a sign reading “Nowhere Islands Fauna.”

    “Hey, Cousin, let’s go see this!” she said, tugging at his sleeve. “This feels like it’s right up your alley.”

    “Sure,” Lucas said, letting her lead him to the enclosure. “I wonder which animals they have in there.”

    They reached the line of students waiting to see the animals. From a distance, Lucas saw the enclosure, which was a large, open-air space with a pond in the center. A sign with a poster reading “Dragos” in bold letters. Lucas’s eyes widened. The posters showed large creatures with long necks, powerful tails and claws, and green scales.

    “I remember these,” he said, pointing at the poster. “I used to play with them when I was a kid.”

    “Really?” Paula said, looking at the poster. “They look like dinosaurs.”

    “They’re not,” Lucas said. “They’re more like giant lizards. They’re friendly, though.”

    They squeezed through the crowd to get a better look at the enclosure. Toward the back of the enclosure, a pair of dragos and their young basked in the sun on the rocks surrounding the pond, occasionally dipping into the water to cool off. The students stared at the animals, oohing and aahing at their size and appearance.

    Lucas spotted Ness and Pokey at the front of the crowd, and this time he made eye contact with Ness. Ness looked relieved to see him, and he waved him over. Lucas and Paula made their way to the spot where Ness and Pokey were standing. Ness smiled at them as they approached, while Pokey’s face darkened.

    “Look who’s decided to show up,” Pokey said, sneering at Lucas. “I got us this spot, you know. You should be thanking me if you’re gonna be rubberneckin’ at the animals from here.”

    “Appreciate your hard work, Pokey,” Paula said, flashing him a plastic smile, “but this is a public zoo. We can stand wherever we want.”

    Pokey curled his lips at Paula’s response just as Ness extracted himself from Pokey’s hold to stand closer to Lucas. In the front of the crowd, Mrs. Pirkle and the tour guide stood next to a weary-looking man who introduced himself as a student zoologist conducting his doctoral thesis on Varanus nowherii, known colloquially as the Nowhere Islands Dragos, the largest species of reptiles native to their eponymous islands. Lucas ignored the few sidelong glances the students (and some of the teachers) gave him as the zoologist spoke, giving his undivided attention to the man.

    The zoologist said that few members of the species remained in the wild due to the Pigmask army driving them nearly to extinction, but the zoo was coordinating a preservation project with several prominent universities for the critically endangered species. He then briefly touched upon Islander culture and the significance of the dragos in their animistic beliefs. Lucas remembered the countless afternoons Grandpa spent rambling about these beliefs in their dingy room in Fourside. Alec told Lucas that the islands rested on the back of a great slumbering dragon and that the dragos came from the scales that it shed as it slept.

    One of the students raised her hand. “Excuse me. How did you manage to get the dragos all the way here?”

    “Good question,” the zoologist said. “Five years ago, at the end of the War, an anonymous benefactor from Winters funded a mission to smuggle this family of dragos out of a Pigmask research facility to Eagleland, where the climate is more suitable for them. Rumors said that the anonymous donor was Dr. Andonuts himself, but no one has been able to confirm this.”

    At that, Lucas frowned. His grandfather spoke a lot about the scientist from Winters who cooperated with the Pigmasks, having them hunt down Islanders and perform horrific experiments on them. Shortly before the Pigmasks were defeated, his lab deep in the mountains was blown up, and he was never seen again. Lucas had always hoped that the rumors of his survival were just that — rumors.

    Blue, blue, blue…

    Lucas’s head snapped up, and he looked around. The thought was faint, but it was there. He scanned the crowd, but most of the students were focused on the dragos or listening to the zoologist. He looked back at the dragos; they were still basking in the sun, oblivious to the crowd.

    Paula tapped his shoulder. “Hey, look at that,” she said, pointing at a raised platform near the enclosure. “Those two over there look an awful lot like the blue religion folk from Twoson.”

    Lucas squinted, following her pointing finger. He spotted two figures in blue shirts and slacks scaling the stairs leading to the platforms. They held two rectangular, newspaper-wrapped packages under their arms. They cast furtive glances around before they reached the top and disappeared from view.

    “What are they doing here?” Lucas said.

    “I don’t know, but they look like they’re up to no good,” Paula said. “What was that they were carrying?”

    “They look like packages,” Lucas replied. “Are they trying to sneak something in?”

    “I think we should follow them,” Paula said. “They might be up to something.”

    “Are you sure?” Lucas said. “Shouldn’t we tell the teachers or the zookeepers?”

    “Forget it, they’re a good two dozen yards away and they’ve got their hands full,” Paula said, grabbing his hand and pulling him after her. “Come on, we can’t lose them now. Maybe they’re doing something illegal, and we can catch them in the act.”

    “Hey, where are you two going?” Ness called after them, but Paula ignored his call. She led Lucas through the crowd until they made their way to the platform where the two figures had disappeared. A velvet rope blocked the path to the platform, but the two walked around it and climbed the stairs. Lucas held his breath as he and Paula tiptoed closer, trying to be as quiet as possible. They reached the top and crouched at the last step, peeking over the edge.

    The stairs led to a narrow, raised walkway that overlooked the dragos’ enclosure, ending with another set of stairs that led down to the staff-only area inside the enclosure. The other two stood halfway along the walkway and looked down at the dragos, obscured from the crowd’s view by a large tree rising up from the enclosure. They were whispering to each other, their heads close together. Lucas couldn’t hear what they were saying, and the only thoughts he could pick up from them were a ceaseless drone of blue, blue, blue, blue… like their minds were stuck on a loop.

    The two figures set down the newspaper-wrapped packages on the walkway. One of them rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a box cutter.

    “What are they doing?” Paula whispered, taking out her camera and aiming it at the two figures.

    “I don’t know,” Lucas said, taking her camera and setting it aside. “Put that away. They might see us if you take a picture now.”

    He was thinking of standing up and confronting the suspicious figures when footsteps came up the stairs behind them. Lucas and Paula looked over their shoulders to see Ness jogging up the stairs.

    “Paula! Lucas!” he said, waving at them. “There you two are. How could you leave me with Pokey like that?” He stopped beside them, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “I’ve been looking all over for you two and saw you sneaking up here.” He looked down at them. “Say, what are you two doing creeping around like that?”

    Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose and Paula winced. Ness frowned, flitting confused glances between them. “What? What’s going on?”

    He looked up and saw the blue-clad figures on the walkway, who were now looking at them. The two exchanged a glance before they picked up the packages and ran. Lucas immediately sprang to his feet and sprinted after them.

    “What the…?” Ness said, but Lucas was already halfway down the platform. Paula stood up and threw a glare at Ness.

    “Ness, you jackass!” she hissed, before she ran after Lucas.

    Ness watched her take off after Lucas with an incredulous look on his face, then he looked down and noticed Paula’s camera left behind on the platform. He picked it up and noticed that he was already alone on the platform.

    Lucas and Paula chased the two figures down the stairs and into the enclosure’s maintenance area. One of the two figures tossed the packages to the other before they split up and ran in different directions. Lucas followed the one heading for the drago enclosure, while Paula followed the one heading for the fence.

    Paula winced as she ran, regretting picking out her new shoes for the trip. She was about to catch up to the man when she stumbled and fell to the ground. She scrambled to her feet just in time to see him climb up the fence and vault over it, disappearing into the park outside the zoo.

    On the other side of the enclosure, Lucas was in hot pursuit of the other figure. The man looked behind him and saw Lucas gaining on him. In his path, a juvenile drago was sleeping in the sun. It stirred at the sound of footsteps just as the blue-clad man stepped on its tail. The juvenile woke up with a start and let out a loud roar. It ran off to its parents, who were now awake and agitated by the commotion and the crowd outside the enclosure loudly shouting and pointing at the intruder. Lucas swore under his breath and sprinted after the man, who was now running just under the platform where Ness was standing.

    Lucas watched as Ness aimed Paula’s camera and hurled it at the man. It hit him square in the back of the head, and he stumbled and fell to the ground. Lucas caught up to him and pinned him down, panting.

    “Hell, yeah!” Ness shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “I got him! Hold him down, I’m coming!”

    “That was Paula’s camera,” Lucas shouted back, but Ness had already ducked out of his sight. He turned to see the agitated dragos huddling together, their forked tongues flicking in and out of their mouths as they clicked their jaws and hissed at the intruders. Lucas felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. This was a telling sign that the dragos intended to attack.

    He raised his hands and tried to calm the animals down, but quickly realized that was a stupid idea. He heard commotion from outside the enclosure and from the corner of his eye, he saw zookeepers pointing tranquilizer guns at the dragos, ready to shoot them. The last thing he wanted was for the dragos to get hurt, so he placed himself between the dragos and the aiming zookeepers and racking his brain for a solution. He remembered how he and Claus used to play with the dragos back home. They used to direct the dragos with loud whistles and hand waves, and the dragos would follow their commands.

    He brought his thumb and index finger in a ring past his lips, letting out a sharp whistle, then waved his other arm in a wide arc. The juvenile drago that was initially spooked perked up and looked at him. The crowd outside the enclosure gasped as the two-hundred-pound reptile charged at Lucas and tackled him to the ground, before they looked on with confusion when Lucas sat up with the animal wrapped in his arms.

    Lucas sensed that the juvenile was now more in a playful mood than scared, although the adults still appeared agitated at the sight of their young held down by a human. He gently pushed the juvenile off him and nudged it toward its parents, who were now mere feet away. The adults huddled together, but had stopped hissing. Lucas approached them slowly, then reached out and stroked the nearest drago’s neck. It leaned into his touch, although its eyes were still fixed on a point behind Lucas. He turned around to see Paula and Ness, with their backs glued to the enclosure’s fence. He waved at them to come over, and both of them hesitantly approached.

    “It’s alright. They’re friends,” he said soothingly, sensing the dragos’ emotions slowly shift from acquired apprehension towards their usual acceptance. He noticed painful-looking pits in the adult dragos’ thick hide that he recognized as marks left behind by tranquilizer darts. He quietly hoped that the dragos wouldn’t associate him with the people who had hurt them before. He turned to Ness and Paula.

    “The suspicious guy got away,” Paula said, pointing at the fence. “He climbed over and disappeared.”

    Lucas crouched beside Ness to examine the unconscious man. He took off the man’s shoes and undid the laces, then pulled them off and tied the man’s hands and feet together.

    “What are you doing?” Paula said.

    “I’m tying him up,” Lucas said, finishing the knots. “We can’t let him get away like his pal did.”

    “After someone beaned him with my camera, I think he’s not going anywhere,” Paula said, glaring at Ness, who winced but didn’t look too guilty.

    “I promise I’ll get it fixed for you,” he said, picking up the camera. Its lens board was jammed at an odd angle, and a hinge hung loose. “Nothing looks actually broken, though. I know a friend who’s a genius with this stuff. I’ll ask him to take a look at it.”

    “Your friend better know how to get this fixed,” Paula said, then sighed and shifted her gaze to Lucas. “What about you? Are you okay?”

    “I’m fine,” Lucas said. “I think the dragos are calm now. They’re not going to attack us.”

    By this point, Lucas realized he needed to get Paula and Ness out of the enclosure before zoo staff intervened and did something drastic to the dragos or to them. He crouched down to the juvenile drago, which was now flicking its tongue at their shoes.

    “I need you to go sit over there in the corner while we leave, alright?” he said, patting the juvenile’s head. It flicked its tongue at his hand once, then turned and crawled away to the other corner of the enclosure, by the edge of the pond. The adult dragos lumbered after their young, settling down and watching the humans with a languid gaze.

    “Wow,” Ness said, looking at the dragos. “How come you can talk to these things?”

    “Don’t call them things. They’re dragos,” Lucas said, “and animals can’t talk. Don’t be silly.”

    “Okay then, how come those draggers can understand you?”

    “Dragos,” Lucas corrected him. “Long story, I promise I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s just get out of here. Come, help me with this guy. Paula, you go first.”

    The trio spotted a fire exit at the corner of the enclosure. Lucas and Ness dragged the tied-up man to the exit, while Paula led the way. They emerged back into the main zoo area, where they met a large gathering of people standing in front of the thrilled zoologist.

    “The dragos were treating that boy like he’s one of their own,” he said, waving excitedly in front of the throng of scientists, students, and security guards that gathered to watch. “Who would’ve thought such creatures exhibited such ability to bond with humans of all things!”

    A murmur arose from the crowd as they spotted the trio, and soon, Lucas, Paula, and Ness were inundated by the curious gathering.

    “How’d you do that, kid?”

    “Who’s that fella on the ground?”

    “Is the young lady all right?”

    Two men in security uniforms intervened. “All right, all right, give ’em some space,” one of them said, then paused when he saw the blue-clad man tied up on the ground. “What’s going on here?”

    “We caught this guy trying to do something to the dragos,” Ness said, then pointed at the fence. “His friend got away.”

    One of the security guards leaned toward his colleague. “Call the police. We’ve got a situation here,” he said, then turned to the trio. “You three, with me. We need to take your statements.”

    The guards ushered the trio into a conference room and checked for any injuries before telling them they would be back shortly. They closed the door, leaving the three of them alone in the dusty room that smelled of cigarettes.

    Ness plopped on a chair and set Paula’s camera on the table, then buried his face in his palms and sighing. “We’ve really stepped in it now, huh?”

    “Never mind that,” Lucas said, pacing back and forth. “I want to know what those guys were planning to do with the dragos.”

    “They had these weird packages,” Ness said, looking up. “They weren’t carrying bombs, were they? Please tell me they weren’t bombs.”

    “I don’t think so,” Paula said. “They looked like they were carrying something fragile, like glass or porcelain. I think they were trying to smuggle something in.”

    The door swung open again, admitting the two security personnel and the zoologist from earlier. One of the guards, a tall man with a stern face, approached them. “What are your names? What business did you have sneaking into a restricted area?”

    “Oh, you see,” Ness said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were just… uh…”

    “I’m Lucas, and these are Paula and Ness,” Lucas said, cutting him off. “We’re with the Onett school group.” He glanced at the other two. “I’m from Tazmily, you see, and I saw a staircase leading up to the platform, and I thought it would be a good idea to see the dragos up close. Ness and Paula followed me a while later. Inside, we caught two suspicious-looking guys trying to do something to the dragos.”

    Paula’s eyes widened at his fib and Ness stared intently at his shoes. The two remained quiet, letting Lucas lead the conversation.

    “They were carrying packages,” Lucas continued. “One of them got away, but we managed to catch the other one. He’s the one tied up outside.”

    “You kids say you were just poking around a restricted area, and you just happened to catch a criminal in the act?” the guard said, tilting his head. “That’s a little hard to believe, don’t you think?”

    “It’s the truth, I swear,” Lucas said.

    The guard opened his mouth to probe further, but the zoologist stepped forward. “If I may. As far as we can tell, no harm was done to the dragos. In fact, this boy here,” he pointed at Lucas, “was able to calm the dragos down when they were agitated by the intruders. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years of studying them.”

    He turned to Lucas with a glint of fascination in his eyes. “You have a way with dragos, young man. I’ve made researching these animals my life’s work, and I heard legends about the Nowhere Islands and the natives’ ability to communicate with them. I never thought I’d see it in action myself. How did you do it?”

    Lucas shifted uneasily. “I just do. I’ve seen dragos all my life. They’ve always been able to understand us.”

    The zoologist rubbed his chin. “I think there’s more to it than that. We heard about how Islanders whistle to direct dragos and we tried it, but the dragos always ignored us. You, on the other hand… I know it’s not scientific of me, but I believe Islanders understand dragos too well, like they can get into the dragos’ minds somehow.” He shook his head. “It’s all incredibly fascinating.”

    Lucas tightened his lips. Before he could reply, a commotion sounded outside the door. Mrs. Pirkle burst into the room, her gray hair frazzled out of her usually immaculate bun. She was followed by a man in a suit carrying a briefcase that showed a large, gold-embossed “Minch Organization” logo.

    “What on earth were you three thinking!” Mrs. Pirkle screeched. Out of breath, she faced the security guards. “Oh, I am so, so sorry for the trouble these kids have caused you. I assure you we will be happy to pay for any damages or inconvenience they have caused.”

    After a brief exchange laden with apologies to the staff and the man with the briefcase reassuring the zoo staff that ‘Mr. Minch will pay for any damages’, Pirkle herded the kids out of the room. Once they were out of sight, her face turned from worried to livid.

    “Paula Jones,” she said, jabbing a bone-thin finger in Paula’s face. “I can’t believe you of all people would pull a stunt like this. You’re supposed to be a role model for the other students, and here you are, sneaking into a restricted area. Your parents will be heartbroken when they hear about this. I’m going to call them right now and tell them what you did. Off you go.”

    Paula’s face turned red, but she didn’t say anything. She turned and left, her shoulders slumped. Pirkle then grabbed Lucas and Ness by the ears. “And you two are in big trouble. Mr. Minch heard about what happened and he is not happy.” She roughly dragged them away to the bus, where the rest of the students were already waiting. “You two should be grateful he offered to sweep this matter under the rug, but I won’t have any of this nonsense on my watch. I’m going to call your parents as well, and you can bet they’ll have some choice words for you.”

    Ness flailed and protested, but Mrs. Pirkle’s grip on his ear was like a vice. Lucas winced as she dragged him along, his mind still on the dragos. He still hadn’t found out what was in the packages, but he had a feeling that he would find out soon enough.

•    •    •

    Exhausted, Lucas flopped face-first onto his bed in the upscale hotel in Midtown Fourside. The clock pointed at ten in the evening, and it had been a long day. After the zoo, the students spent the rest of the day touring the city hall and several iconic landmarks. The other students bombarded him with questions and curious looks. Ness and Paula were gracious enough to stick around Lucas and fend off the crowd, for which Lucas was grateful. He would’ve gone insane and probably attacked someone if he had to face all that attention alone.

    A knock on the door roused him from his brooding. He sat up, then went to the door to open it. A hotel staff member stood outside, informing him of a call waiting for him at the front desk. He followed the staff member downstairs and stopped by the lobby’s phone. If it was Desmond and Molly on the phone, he would be in for a long talking-to. He hesitated for a moment before picking up the receiver.

    “Hello?”

    “What the hell were you thinking, kid?” a voice boomed in Islandish, making Lucas wince and pull the phone slightly away from his ear.

    “Sorry, who’s this?” Lucas said, then recognized the voice’s owner, albeit never imagining him ever raising his voice. “Wait, Duster?”

    “Yeah. Who else, kiddo?” Duster’s voice came back a little calmer this time. “I heard about what happened at the zoo. You okay?”

    “I’m fine. How did you find out?” Lucas asked, glancing at the confused looks from some passersby at his unfamiliar language.

    “You must be joking. This little stunt of yours could make the news. As for finding you, everyone and their grandma in Eagleland knows that Aloysius Minch is paying for your little school trip. Figures he’d put you up in one of his own hotels, that rotten bastard.”

    “I see.”

    “Anyway, enough about boring rich slickers. Tell me, what the hell were you thinking, getting into the dragos’ enclosure? I know you miss them, but that’s no excuse to endanger yourself.”

    “Duster, you know dragos wouldn’t hurt me. I just wanted to see them up close.”

    “No need to lie to me, Lucas,” Duster said. “I heard about the suspicious guys. You were trying to stop them, weren’t you?”

    Lucas hesitated. “I… guess I was. We didn’t know what they were doing, but it looked like they were trying to hurt the dragos.”

    “That’s what I thought. Things must be fishy as hell because I hear Minch himself is pulling strings to keep it all hush-hush. I have it on good authority that he’s planning to enter politics, and he doesn’t want any bad press mentioning his name next to some blue-clad goons trying to smuggle something in a zoo.”

    “I met some of those folk in Twoson,” Lucas said. “They were trying to recruit me into their religion. It was this strange take on, and I quote, ‘tradition of the Tazmily tribes.’ Were there ever Tazmily tribes?”

    “Tribes?” Duster said, and Lucas could hear the face Duster was making through the phone. “No, we never had tribes in Tazmily. The whole thing is a load of hogwash. What the hell are they trying to pull trying to pass themselves off as Islanders?”

    “Your guess is as good as mine,” Lucas said.

    “Tell you what, kid. I’ll see if I can dig up anything. Maybe we can figure out what those guys were up to,” Duster said. “Don’t poke your nose too deep into this. These people don’t seem like the type you’d want to piss off.”

    “Got it. Thanks, Duster. I appreciate it.”

    “Don’t mention it. Anyway, since you’re in town, why don’t ya drop by to see me at the Topolla Theater? We can catch up some more, and I never got a proper chance to thank you: I got in with the band, and we’re tearing it up around here.”

    Lucas’s face broke into a broad smile. “Really? That’s great news, Duster. Congratulations!”

    “Thanks. Yeah, you ought to come see the Desperado Crash Mambo Combo in their natural habitat.”

    “The Desperado-what?” Lucas said, confused.

    “It’s our band name. DCMC for short. And get this: we’re opening for Venus herself tomorrow night.”

    “Uh-huh.” That name didn’t immediately ring a bell to Lucas, but Duster sounded excited about it.

    “Come at five tomorrow. That okay with you?”

    “Absolutely. Where’s the place?”

    “Write this down,” Duster said, and Lucas grabbed a pen and a notepad from the front desk. “It’s, uh, 253 West 125th Street. Just take the Sixth Avenue Line to the stop with the same street then walk a block east. Feel free to bring your friends too.”

    “I will. Take care, Duster.”

    “You too, kid. Bye.”

    Lucas hung up. He felt happy that Duster was now up on his feet and performing with a band, but the conversation didn’t answer any of his questions about the blue cultists or what they were trying to do with the dragos. He pocketed the note with the theater address then returned to his room.

    Back in the room, Lucas quickly changed into his pajamas and sat by the window, gazing through the window at the bustling street below. The bathroom door opened, snapping him out of his reverie. Ness emerged dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist and another drying his hair. Lucas was surprised to see some muscle on Ness’s arms and chest, likely from all the baseball practice he did back in Onett. Usually, Ness wore a shapeless T-shirt that gave the impression he was pudgier than he really was. Lucas looked him up and down. Ness looked like what Lucas had always imagined a typical kid his age would look like. He felt a twinge of envy at the thought. What would he give to have a normal life like Ness’s? What would it be like to grow up in the same town, go to school, play baseball with friends, and not have a care in the world?

    He realized he’d been staring at Ness the whole time when the latter raised a hand to wave at him.

    “Hello? Blondie, you in there?” Ness said, smirking when he caught Lucas’s eye. “I didn’t know I was that interesting to look at.”

    Lucas felt color rise to his cheeks. “Sorry,” he stammered. “I just—”

    Ness chuckled, holding up a hand to stop Lucas’s stumbling apology. “Hey, it’s cool. If you mind me changing here, I can go change in the bathroom instead.”

    Lucas appreciated the courtesy, though he didn’t want Ness to feel like he had to walk on eggshells around him. “No, no, it’s fine. I spaced out for a moment. My bad.”

    He turned his head back to the window to watch the street below. If Ness noticed Lucas’s brief departure earlier, he didn’t say anything. A minute later, Lucas heard the sound of a bed creaking. He looked over his shoulder to see Ness, now dressed in pencil-striped pajamas, perched cross-legged on his bed.

    “Howdy,” Ness said, nodding at him.

    “Do you actually greet people like that?” Lucas said, wrinkling his nose.

    Ness beamed at him. “Only those I like to annoy.”

    “Fair enough,” Lucas said with a wry smile. He lay down on his bed and crossed his legs, clasping his fingers over his stomach. He stared at the ceiling for a while, taking in the faint noise of the city that filtered through the window.

    “So,” Ness said. Lucas half-turned his head to see Ness looking at him.

    “Hm?”

    “Aren’t you telling me what’s your deal with the dragos?” Ness said. “You said you’d tell me later.”

    “Ugh, gosh. Not this again!” Lucas groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “I was asked the same question a million times today. You were there, too.”

    “Yeah, never mind that ‘I-wanted-to-save-my-friends-from-the-baddies’ spiel you gave everyone. You talked with dragos like they were your old pals.”

    “They are my old pals in a sense,” Lucas said.

    “What? These lizards actually know you?”

    Lucas faced Ness with a deadpan expression. “Dunno if I’ve ever met the same dragos before, but my grandpa used to live very close to their habitat. Sometimes, the dragos would walk by his cabin, and I’d go out to play with them.”

    Ness looked awestruck. “Damn, that must’ve been cool growing up with dinosaurs.”

    “Yeah,” Lucas said, shifting his gaze back to the ceiling. “Back then, I used to play a lot with them along with my brother.”

    “Hold on, you have a brother?” Ness said.

    It occurred to Lucas that he had never discussed his family with anyone before, not with his adoptive parents or even Paula. He didn’t know why he was telling Ness about Claus now, but he had already started, so he might as well continue.

    “Mm. I had a twin brother. His name was Claus,” Lucas said. “When everything went to hell during the war, I lost him… and our parents.” Lucas’s eyes seemed distant as he spoke. “He was a force of nature, you know? Daring and full of energy, while I was a bit of a wimp. In fact, he taught me how to whistle to the dragos like I did today.” He turned his head to look at Ness. “I think you would’ve liked him. You two have a lot in common.”

    Ness rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit out of his depth. He looked at Lucas with a sympathetic expression. “Gee, Lucas. Sorry, I didn’t know… thanks for telling me.”

    Lucas offered a small smile. “I don’t talk about him much. I just… He’s been on my mind a lot lately. Thanks for listening.”

    They sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments. Ness looked like he wanted to ask something, but a loud commotion and shouting from the hallway cut him off. They both turned to the door, then back at each other.

    “The hell?” Ness said, jumping to his feet. Lucas swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, following Ness to the door. They opened it to see a familiar portly kid causing a ruckus in the hallway. Lucas tried to contain a grin as he took in the sight of Pokey’s spectacularly bleeding nose.

    “I demand to be moved to a different room. You think I’m staying in this dump with this psychopath?” Pokey screamed, spittle flying from his mouth as he pointed at his room. “He hit me with a hammer!”

    Lucas’s eyes followed Pokey’s finger to see a pasty kid with disheveled straw-blond hair standing in front of the door directly across from where Lucas and Ness were staying. The boy, still shaking from the adrenaline, clenched a white-knuckled grip around a rubber mallet and glared at Pokey from behind off-kilter glasses. Lucas vaguely remembered seeing him sitting next to Pokey during the bus ride. He wondered what had Pokey done to provoke such a harmless-looking bookworm into bashing him across the snout with a mallet.

    A hotel staff member approached him, looking flustered. “Sir, I assure you, we will move you to a different room. Please calm down. We’ll have to ask you to leave if you–”

    Pokey grabbed the unfortunate man by the front of his shirt. “If my father hears about this,” he hissed, his face inches away from the attendant’s, “I’ll make sure you’re all out of a job by tomorrow morning.”

    He dropped the attendant, who scampered away presumably to call security. Pokey then turned to glare daggers at the boy with the mallet. “And you. You’re dead meat, you hear me? Dead meat!”

    A few heads poked out from their rooms to gawk at the scene. Ness pulled on his slippers and stepped out, looking utterly exasperated.

    “Pokey, what the hell did you do to this kid?” Ness said, an edge of weariness in his voice as he placed himself between Pokey and the other boy. Pokey’s venomous look faltered at the sight of Ness. He opened his mouth as if to explain himself, but quickly put on a sneer when Lucas casually walked up to stand next to Ness, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyeing Pokey with a bored expression.

    “What, Lizard Lucas and his sidekick are here to save the day again?” Pokey said, narrowing his eyes at Lucas. “You two almost ruined the whole trip for everyone today. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

    “Sure, and you’re ruining everyone’s sleep right now,” Ness said, crossing his arms. “Settle down, you’re making a scene.”

    “I’m making a scene?” Pokey said, his voice rising. “I was attacked by this little maniac and you’re blaming me for making a scene? I’m the victim here!”

    He wiped blood from his nose and straightened his clothes in an attempt to salvage some dignity. “This pigsty of a hotel is full of psychos and delinquents. You penniless hicks can rot in here for all I care. I’m going to my father’s suite on the Monotoli Building. Don’t bother following me.”

    “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucas said flatly.

    “Out of my way,” Pokey said, pushing past Ness and Lucas, making sure to bump Lucas’s shoulder as he passed. With his still-bleeding nose held high, Pokey lumbered out of view like an overfed peacock. The other guests exchanged glances and whispered among themselves before retreating back into their rooms, their doors clicking shut one by one.

    “What a day,” Ness said and ran a hand through his still-damp hair, before directing a sympathetic look at the still-trembling kid with the mallet. “Sorry about all that, Lloyd. Are you okay?”

    Lucas snickered. He made a mental note to shake this Lloyd’s hand later. “Impressive work with the mallet. What was that all about?”

    Lloyd blinked at the floor, shoulders hunched as he wrung his hands around the mallet’s handle. “Pokey, uh, Pokey took my screwdriver set, and-and, well, he just wouldn’t, um, g-give it back. I-I tried to ask nicely, but he called me a, a, a sissy. Had to, y’know, t-take drastic measures.”

    His eyes went wide as if realizing he’d just admitted to assaulting someone, before hiding the mallet behind his back. He risked a glance at Ness. “Oh. Paula’s camera. I, uh, I fixed it! Just need to put it… put it back together. Ready by morning. Promise.”

    Ness beamed at him. “Awesome! Man, Lloyd, you’re a lifesaver. Thanks for fixing it.”

    They exchanged good-nights before going back to their rooms. Once inside, Ness mumbled something under his breath about Pokey and unnecessary drama as he toed off his slippers.

    “Poor Lloyd,” he said. “A sweet kid like him doesn’t deserve a jackass like Pokey for a roommate.”

    “I must say, you handled Pokey pretty well,” Lucas said. “I’ve never seen him try to behave in front of anyone before.”

    Ness tiredly rubbed the area between his eyes. “Pokey and I go way back,” he said. “We’re neighbors, and we used to be sort-of friends. He used to be a nice kid back then, believe it or not.”

    “You’re kidding.”

    “I kid you not,” Ness said, plopping down on his bed. “He was nicer back in the day. Kinda like his little brother, Picky.”

    “Picky,” Lucas repeated in a monotone. “The Minches sure have a theme going on with their names.”

    Ness shrugged. “Those are just nicknames. Pokey’s name is actually Parker, and his brother’s Prescott.”

    “Really?” Lucas wrinkled his nose. Rich people names. “What’s with the nicknames, then?”

    “When we were little, Pokey was this really chubby little kid. Kids called him ‘Porker’ instead of Parker, which eventually turned into ‘Porky’.” Ness looked a little sheepish. “I felt bad to call him either, so I started calling him Pokey instead. He went along with it and the nickname stuck. I guess he tolerated it because I was his only friend back then, or maybe it’s better than being called Porky.”

    “And Picky?”

    “No clue, but I think it’s just a riff on Pokey,” Ness said. “I never asked. It’s been a year since we spoke because he got held back in middle school.” He chuckled. “I wonder what it was like for him to sit in a classroom with little kids while he was supposed to be in high school already. I bet he hated it.”

    “Oh, get over yourself. You’re both hardly a year older than me,” Lucas said.

    Ness stretched, stifling a yawn, then flopped down on his bed. “Oh man, I’m beat. We got an early day tomorrow, so we better get some shuteye. Douse the lights, will ya?”

    Lucas reached out and flicked the switches at the door, plunging the room into darkness, save for the faint light filtering through the window. He trudged back to his bed and promptly planted his face into the pillow.

    “Goodnight, Luke,” Ness said.

    “Night,” Lucas mumbled into the pillow, wiggling his feet to slide them under the blanket. He drifted into his own thoughts and eventually into sleep.

Chapter Text

Personae Non Gratae

    Ness woke up at exactly six in the morning the next day. He let out a huge yawn and smacked his lips, checking the bedside clock. Frequent early alarms must have conditioned his body to rouse from sleep this early. He turned over to eye his roommate, who slept in the bed on the other side of the room.

    Ness smirked at the sight of Lucas, covered from head to toe save for a disheveled mop of blond hair that poked out from below the blanket. He eventually dropped the smirk for a contemplative frown as he reflected on the few weeks since meeting Lucas. The blond was far from an ordinary kid. Aside from the zoo incident, bizarre events shadowed Lucas wherever he went. Ness recalled the time three muggers fled from the blond in sheer terror, or how he disappeared when Ness pulled him out of that scene.

    He stiffly ran a hand through his hair and got up, feeling his bladder protesting its full state.

    After emerging from the bathroom once he finished his business and brushed his teeth, he eyed Lucas’s sleeping form. This time, the bedsheets were thrown halfway off the bed, revealing a troubled-looking Lucas. He tossed and turned around in his sleep, his eyes were screwed shut and a sheen of cold sweat covered his forehead. Ness watched with curiosity as Lucas let out a few sporadic gasps, then began mumbling in his sleep.

    Poor guy must be having a bad dream, Ness thought, wondering whether waking him up would be a good idea. Blondie had one mean left hook, so he chose to observe instead. It felt weird watching someone in their sleep, but the novelty of the sight made it hard to look away. Lucas’s tossing abruptly stopped, lying motionlessly on his back.

    A minute later, Ness approached Lucas and cautiously tapped his shoulder. Lucas woke up with a jolt, drawing in a sharp breath as his eyes opened wide. He shielded his eyes with an arm when Ness went to pull up the window blinds.

    “Rise and shine, Princess,” Ness said. Lucas blinked as his eyes adjusted.

    “Good… morning?” Lucas rasped with a heavy tongue, then sat up. “What time is it?”

    “Half-past six.”

    “Too early,” Lucas groaned and flopped back down. “I’m going back to sleep.”

    “My, aren’t you a ray of sunshine this morning.”

    “Go to hell.”

    Ness ignored the cranky response. “We’re supposed to gather at eight o’clock in the lobby. I think you could use a shower and something to eat in the meantime.”

    “Just bring me coffee and leave me alone.”

    “I’m not room service, I ain’t bringing you squat,” Ness said. He paused for a few moments before clearing his throat, throwing his baseball cap at Lucas and announcing loudly. “Shake a leg already, Blondie!”

    The cap hit Lucas square in the face. He yelped in surprise as he got up. “Okay, okay. Jeez!”

    Half an hour later, the two got out of their room with Ness walking with a spring in his step as Lucas trudged behind, marginally more awake. On their way down in the elevator, Lucas made a face at the faint music that played somewhere in the background.

    “Tacky music, I know,” Ness said, chuckling.

    Lucas flashed him a half-lidded stare. “Where are we going again?” he asked, stifling another yawn.

    “Breakfast, then we’ll meet up with everyone else for whatever we’re doing today.”

    The elevator came to a stop, and the door opened to reveal the ground floor of the building.

    “Uh huh,” Lucas said as they walked out of the elevator. “I want to go to the Topolla theater in the afternoon.”

    “I don’t think the teachers would let you wander around town as you please,” Ness said. “Unless the school goes there as a group.”

    “They let Pokey leave last night,” Lucas said. “Isn’t he at the Monotoli building right now?”

    “That’s Pokey,” Ness said with a shrug. “He can just pull out the Daddy Card to get what he wants.”

    “Right.”

    “Why do you wanna go to the theater?”

    “Meeting up with a friend.”

    “You got a friend who works at the Topolla?”

    “Something like that, yeah.”

    “Well, mind if I tag along? I’ve been to the Topolla a few times, so I can show you around.”

    “Hmm,” Lucas seemed to consider it, then nodded. “I know how to get there, but sure, I don’t mind.”

    “Great,” Ness beamed. “We’ll have more fun there than at the Minch theater, that’s for sure.”

    The two of them grabbed a tray each and filed behind the sparse queue on the breakfast buffet; Ness had anticipated a larger number of people there, but he thanked his luck. He piled his plates high with almost everything on the menu, while Lucas asked for an omelet, a few pieces of toast and grabbed a hefty mug of coffee and a cup of orange juice. He gawked at Ness’s overflowing tray as they picked a table to sit.

    “That’s… a lot of food,” Lucas commented as he sat down.

    “It’s all paid for, and I’m starving,” Ness said before he began scarfing down his food at an alarming speed. He noticed Lucas eyeing him as if he was amused and mildly grossed out at the same time. Ness paused and looked at him, mouth full of food.

    “Are you sure you’re gonna finish it all?” Lucas asked. “Scratch that, are you sure you’re not gonna throw up?”

    “Please, I’m just getting started,” Ness said. “You should see what I can do when I’m really hungry. I can house a whole pizza by myself.”

    “Sure,” Lucas drawled, sipping his coffee. Ness stabbed a couple slices of bacon with his fork, soak them in egg yolk and stuff the whole affair down his gullet.

    “Since we’re talking about food,” Ness said around a mouthful. “What’s your favorite?”

    “Omelets actually,” Lucas said, gesturing at his plate. “I prefer them with butter, cheese and nothing else.”

    “Makes sense,” Ness hummed. “Mine’s steak. I could eat steak every day.”

    “Steak? Not a big fan.”

    “Well, that makes two of ya.”

    “Two of who?”

    “People I know who don’t like steak. The other one is Pokey.” Ness snickered. “One time, Mom almost force-fed him some when he came over.”

    Lucas grimaced. “I think I might start liking steak now, only to spite Pokey.”

    Ness’s eyes flickered toward Paula, who stood in the distance behind Lucas. He waved at her and she approached them. She paused when her eyes fell on Ness’s tray.

    “I see you’ve helped yourself to half the buffet,” Paula said as she set down her own tray and took a seat next to Lucas.

    “S’just what a growing boy needs,” Ness said, eyeing his already half-finished tray. “Say, do you know what’s on the agenda for today?”

    “We’re supposed to visit the Monotoli Building,” Paula said, counting on her fingers. “Then a tour of a few museums, and finally the opening of Minch theater in the evening.”

    “Great. I can’t wait to see the Minch theater,” Ness said, rolling his eyes. “Hey, Lucas. How about we ditch that and go to the Topolla instead?”

    “Sounds good,” Lucas said.

    “Topolla?” Paula asked. “Why are you going there?”

    “Lucas told me—“ Ness said with a full mouth, swallowing after Paula threw him a disapproving look. “—Lucas told me he wanted to meet up with a friend. I thought I’d tag along.”

    “That’s nice,” Paula said. “I actually wanted to find an excuse not to go to the Minch theater. Can I come with you?”

    Ness shook his head. “Uh-uh. No girls allowed.”

    Paula playfully swatted his arm while Lucas watched with mild interest, finishing his juice. Ness could see Lucas’s thoughtful expression as he considered the idea. Ness bet Lucas was probably more concerned about breaking more rules so soon after the zoo incident, but as long as they were back before curfew, no harm no foul.

    After the three finished their breakfast, they got up and went to the lobby. They spotted Lloyd by the hotel entrance, holding Paula’s newly repaired camera. He approached the group, holding up the camera with an excited expression on his face.

    “Fixed it. A Polaroid Land Model 95. Excellent build. Needed only some new screws and the hinge was a little bent. I-It was tricky to straighten it out, but I managed to get it working again,” Lloyd said in his brisk, clipped tone, pushing his glasses up his nose.

    Paula blinked, taking a moment to unpack his rapid-fire words before she looked at the camera. “Lloyd, it looks good as new. You’re amazing!”

    “All it took was a mallet to Pokey’s nose to fix it,” Ness said with a grin. Paula gave him a confused look.

    “Pokey stole Lloyd’s tools when he was repairing the camera last night,” Lucas elaborated as Lloyd’s face took on a spectacular shade of red. “He had to take ‘drastic measures’ to retrieve them.”

    Lloyd shuffled on his feet, turning on a shade like a bad sunburn. “Pokey was a nuisance. Nevertheless enjoyed the task. Good challenge.”

    Paula interrupted. “Then I owe you for this. How can I repay you?”

    “No need,” Lloyd said. “I-I mean, I-I’m happy to help. I’m not, uh, I didn’t do it for a reward or anything. I just wanted to help.”

    “You sure?” Paula said, tilting her head. “I can’t just let you fix my camera for free. I owe you one.”

    Lloyd tapped the brown leather of the camera case lightly. He lifted a hopeful look at her. “Then… can we take a photo? With all of us?”

    Paula beamed. “That sounds perfect. Let’s take one right here. Ness, come over here!”

    Ness stepped closer and hesitantly stopped to stand next to Lucas. The blond threw him a sideways glance, then grabbed Ness’s hand and pulled him to stand on his other side. Ness felt his cheeks heat up when he realized that Lucas had positioned him to stand right next to Paula. He risked a glance at her, and his stomach did a little flip when she smiled at him.

    Paula took the camera, holding it at arm’s length so that she could place herself and the other three in the frame, each with their arms around the others.

    “Say, fuzzy pickles!” she grinned and clicked the button. The photo emerged and slowly began developing. Lloyd waited eagerly for the image to form. He pulled out a meticulously organized scrapbook, a wide grin crossing his face as he meticulously placed the photo under a clear plastic sheet. He took out a sharpie and wrote their names, the date and the location on the bottom of the photo.

    By then, the school kids already began gathering in a big crowd outside the lobby, where two buses were parked. The four of them got into the crowd, where each teacher handed out bright green badges that contained the school’s logo, their names and the hotel phone number to their students. Ness eyed the garish badge with contempt.

    “What is this?” Ness said.

    “A badge,” Mrs. Pirkle replied simply as if it were a legitimate question before handing a similar badge to Lucas, Lloyd and the other students. Ness pinched the bridge of his nose.

    “Are they expecting us to wear this silly little thing?” Ness said, making a face and holding the badge at arm’s length, as if it might contaminate him. Lloyd pinned the badge on his shirt like the model student he was, and Lucas hesitantly followed suit. Ness grumbled and stuffed the badge in his pocket. He spent the bus ride to the Monotoli Tower criticizing the teachers’ horrible taste, eventually eliciting a sharp “Shut up, Ness” from Lucas.

• • •

    As the students arrived in front of the Monotoli Tower, they were welcomed by a man in a fancy business suit, likely costing more than the entire budget for this trip. With haughty politeness, he ushered them into the ‘beating heart of the nation’s economy.’ Ness noticed Lucas roll his eyes at the description.

    “Say,” Ness said, nudging Lucas. “Do you reckon we’ll run into Pokey?”

    “I hope not,” Lucas said as the business suit directed them towards a huge elevator on the interior side of the lobby.

    “And here, we have the elevator to our iconic observatory. Ladies first.” The girls walked in, followed by the boys and then the elevator doors slid shut behind them. Ness gaped as the floor count skyrocketed on the panel in front of him. That elevator was fast. The business suit let out a patronizing chuckle when he saw the look on Ness’s face.

    “Ah, yes. This is one of the fastest elevators in existence today. You see, at the Monotoli Corporation, we strive for nothing but the best. We—”

    Ness tuned him out, opting to grin at Lucas’s thoroughly disgusted expression as he eyed the inflated tour guide. Lucas stood next to the control panel, where a uniformed lady held her nose high in the air. She glanced at the three-foot gap between her and Lucas and pursed her lips in distaste, making a comment about perverts staring at her hips. Lucas dragged Ness by the wrist and wedged him into the space between himself and the elevator attendant like a human shield. Ness grimaced at the tight grip on his hand.

    “The sooner I get out of here, the better,” Lucas said through clenched teeth as the elevator took off towards the higher floors.

    “Okay, but you’re crushing my wrist,” Ness said, tugging his arm for emphasis. Lucas loosened his grip but didn’t let go.

    “Not comfortable in hoity-toity places, huh?” Ness joked. Lucas replied with a terse nod, his smoldering glare made a hapless kid standing in front of them fidget uncomfortably. The elevator ground a halt, and a ‘ding’ sounded as the doors opened.

    “Welcome to the Monotoli Tower observatory level,” the elevator lady said in her snooty voice. Lucas seemed inches close to flipping the woman off as they walked out, still dragging Ness by the wrist. They were in a wide balcony-like extension of the building. Tall, intricate steel poles were erected on the edge with panes of glass rising halfway to their height between the poles.

    Ness spotted Paula among the other students, all gathered to take in the spectacular view and brisk breeze. They approached the crowd, and Ness tapped Paula on the shoulder.

    “Hey,” she greeted and patted the space next to her. “The view’s amazing, check it out.”

    Ness peered over and let out a lengthy whistle. “Whoa, what a sight.”

    They could see the entirety of Midtown and Upper Fourside in the distance. From this height, the sprawling avenues shrank to mere strips. Cars appeared like colorful ants, and the roofs of nearby towers were clearly visible. Ness stood on his tiptoes to take a better look, leaning with his hands on the metal rails.

    “You’re leaning too far over,” Lucas said. “You might fall.”

    “I’m just trying to get a better look. I’m not a human beanstalk like you,” Ness said, stepping back. Even though the edge was secured with thick glass, it was still a long way down. “Ha, imagine us making the news for falling off the Monotoli Tower.” His voice dropped to mimic a radio announcer. “‘In other news: Two high school kids meet their untimely demise after trusting the safety of a glass railing like a bunch of suckers. More at five.’”

    He glanced at a point behind Lucas, only to drop his smile, an irritated grimace taking its place. Lucas looked over his shoulder to spot Pokey pompously making his entrance into the observatory. He wore an expensive-looking suit, but made tacky by the baggy fit and the oversized red tie that hung below the belt line. An enormous man followed, dwarfing even Pokey in stature and girth, walking next to Geldegarde Monotoli himself, who was dressed in a gray suit. Ness recognized the large man as Pokey’s father, Aloysius Minch. Pokey spotted Ness and made a beeline for him, swatting Lucas aside and squeezing his thick frame in the space he had just vacated.

    “Hey, friend,” Pokey said in a sickeningly sweet drawl as he leaned on the railing and gave Ness a broad grin. “Like what you see, Ness? Oh, hi, Paula. Looking stunning as usual. Heh heh.”

    Paula made a face, mouthing ‘Ew’ silently, while Ness shifted uncomfortably in his place, casting a resigned look at Paula, who gave him a reassuring, albeit strained smile. If Pokey was able to goad someone as pleasant and mild-mannered as Lloyd into bashing him with a hammer, Ness wondered how come he didn’t snap yet, and he’d known Pokey for years.

    “Well, my dad pretty much runs the show around here,” Pokey said, gesturing grandly at the view. “He’s a big deal in Fourside. I’m sure you’re impressed.”

    “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Ness said, trying to keep his tone neutral. The coolness in his voice was lost on Pokey, who beamed at him. Ness resigned himself to half-listening as Pokey bragged about how his family did this or contributed to that, launching into an impromptu Minch-themed tour of the observatory.

    “That’s all swell, Pokey,” Ness said, rolling his eyes. “When are you starting as the tour lady?

    As he said that, Aloysius Minch, dressed in a suit matching his son’s, waddled close. The whole group tensed, and Pokey let go of Ness and stood next to his father, looking almost like a Pigmask at attention. Aloysius’s beady eyes acknowledged his son first before they settled on Ness.

    “Ah, it’s Ness. Our dear neighbor!” Aloysius said, twiddling his mustache. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

    Ness shuffled on his feet and tried to plaster on a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Mr. Minch.”

    Paula’s posture went a touch stiffer as the senior Minch’s gaze shifted to her. “And you must be Paula Jones, the daughter of the lady who runs that lovely little preschool back in Twoson. How is she these days?”

    Paula gave a curt nod. “She’s fine, thank you,” she said in a diplomatic tone.

    His beady eyes assessed both Ness and Paula, and there was an air of expectation around him that they would continue to engage in pleasantries. When no one took the bait, Aloysius continued, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I trust you’re enjoying this grand tower. Half of it is basically mine, you know. Quite the feat to own half of the symbol of Monotoli’s empire.”

    Geldegarde Monotoli approached the group. He clapped Aloysius on the back with a familiarity that seemed to irritate the larger man.

    “Half of the tower is yours? Come now, Aloysius, we both know you’re half a dozen floors short of that,” Monotoli said. He turned his attention to the teenagers. “And who might these young people be? Part of the school group your company is sponsoring, I presume?”

    Aloysius puffed out his chest. “Indeed. This is my son, Pokey,” he placed a heavy hand on Pokey’s shoulder, making the boy stand even straighter. “A chip off the old block, I assure you.” He gestured toward Ness. “And this is Ness, the son of my… former business partner.”

    Monotoli faced Ness. “I know your father, young man. He’s quite the entrepreneur. I’ve heard he’s been doing well for himself lately.”

    “Oh,” Ness said, surprised. “You know my dad?”

    “Of course!” Monotoli extended his hand, which Ness hesitantly shook. “I’m a huge fan of your father’s work. The way he turned that struggling fast food chain into a franchise is nothing short of remarkable. I’ve always admired his tenacity.”

    Aloysius’s expression soured, his jowls tightening at Monotoli’s praise of Ness’s father. He appraised Ness with a critical look from behind his small, round glasses. “Tell me, Ness, how’s your old man? Is he still borrowing money left and right?”

    Ness hunched his shoulders, a deep blush creeping up his neck. “He’s… he’s doing well, Mr. Minch. I think.”

    Aloysius let out a derisive chuckle, his smile taking on a cruel twist. “I hope so. If I remember correctly, we’ve loaned your father a lot of money. Quite a sum, too. Your old man’s made quite a name for himself, but he’ll do well to remember who helped him get there. I hate if the only skill he’ll pass on to you is how to beg for a handout.”

    Ness bit the tip of his tongue to force himself not to show how much Aloysius’s barbs tore into him. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. Paula reached out to squeeze his hand, and Lucas crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He fixed Aloysius with an intense stare.

    Aloysius caught Lucas staring intently at him and frowned. “What’s with the look, boy? Have I got something on my face?”

    Lucas shifted his gaze to study Monotoli for a second before putting on a tepid smile. “I was just thinking about next year’s Fourside mayoral elections, Mr. Minch. Everyone’s saying Mr. Monotoli here is expected to win by a landslide.”

    Aloysius looked at Lucas with suspicion at the change in topics. “What about it?”

    “I was just wondering if you’re thinking of running for mayor yourself, Mr. Minch,” Lucas said. “It would be interesting to see how you’d fare against Mr. Monotoli, considering your… business acumen and all.”

    Monotoli’s face went blank for a moment, and Ness could see the gears turning in his head. Aloysius’s expression darkened as he grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and puffed out his broad chest.

    “That’s a preposterous idea. I fully support Geldegarde’s endeavors in the political arena,” Aloysius said with a rehearsed smoothness. “He is my friend and business partner, after all. Am I not right, Geldegarde?”

    Before Monotoli could respond, Pokey piped up. “That’s right. My dad’s totally running for mayor! He’s already got all these connections with the city council and rich folks who are gonna help him win. Just last night, he was on the phone with—”

    “Quiet, you little brat!” Aloysius snapped, his face turning a deep shade of red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

    Pokey went silent and covered his mouth with both hands, but the damage was done. Monotoli’s expression shifted to momentary shock before he regained his composure.

    “Al, my friend,” Monotoli said with a thin smile. “You seem to run a tight ship. If you’ll excuse me, I must make a few calls. You understand, of course.” He turned to the teenagers with a nod. “It was a pleasure meeting you all. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Fourside.”

    As Monotoli walked away, Lucas looked at Pokey with an almost pitying expression before turning back to Aloysius with a smirk. “I see, Mr. Minch.”

    Ness winced. Aloysius Minch’s face took on a disconcerting shade of purple as he took a menacing step toward Lucas. “Why, you insolent little… Who put you up to this, huh? Was it the muckraking hacks at that rag, the Fourside Times? Whoever they are, I’ll have them shut down. I’ll sue them into the ground!”

    “Nobody put me up to anything, sir,” Lucas replied calmly, standing his ground despite the enormous man looming over him. “I just asked a question.”

    Paula and Ness exchanged worried glances as Aloysius clenched and unclenched his fists, looking as though he was about to launch himself at Lucas, who now looked a little nervous. For a moment, Aloysius’s fists twitched upward, but then he seemed to remember where they were and forced himself to relax. He straightened up and stiffly adjusted his cufflinks.

    “Let me make something perfectly clear,” Aloysius said. “You are no longer welcome in this building, nor at the upcoming theater opening. The same goes for your friends. I suggest you three make yourselves scarce before I have you thrown out of this tower.”

    Pokey blanched. “D-dad, come on. Ness didn’t—”

    Aloysius’s hand shot out in a backhand that silenced his son mid-speech. A few bystanders turned to stare.

    “You’ll shut up if you know what’s good for you,” Aloysius growled at his cowering son before turning his venom back on Lucas. “Mark my words, boy. You’ve made an enemy today. One with a very long reach.”

    He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Pokey standing there, holding his reddened cheek and staring daggers at Lucas.

    “You… I won’t forget this,” Pokey spat, before scurrying after his father, who was already disappearing into the crowd.

    Paula spotted Aloysius point them out to a uniformed man. She grabbed the other two by the arms. “That’s our cue to leave.”

    The three of them hurried down the observatory to the elevator, squeezing inside one just as the doors were closing. Paula exhaled as the elevator began its descent.

    “What were you thinking, Lucas?” she said. “Do you realize how big of a monkey wrench you just threw into Fourside’s politics?”

    “Yeah,” Ness adds. “That was some serious insider info. How did you know about Minch’s plans?”

    Lucas shrugged, his cheeks turning pink. “I, uh, I just asked a question to change the subject and Pokey ran his big mouth. What do I know about fat cats and their politics?” He shook his head. “Listen, I just couldn’t stand that overgrown pig belittling you like that. It’s enough that Pokey acts like he owns you. Those two deserved to be knocked down a peg for once.”

    Ness sighed, exiting the elevator with Paula and Lucas. “I appreciate you standing up for me, but you’re lucky old man Minch didn’t literally throw you off the tower. He looked like he was about to tear you a new one.”

    Lucas chuckled. “He’s all bark and no bite. People were standing right there, and we’re just kids. I’m sure he’s already got his hands full with doing damage control after Pokey’s slip-up to bother with us.”

    They pushed through the revolving doors and stepped out onto the sidewalk, leaving the Monotoli Tower behind them.

    “Well, now that we’re undesirables here and at the prestigious Minch Theater,” Lucas said, “we’ve got Fourside and a whole afternoon to ourselves. I don’t know about you two, but I always wanted to check out Broadway and the square.”

    Paula grinned. “Wanna be tourists for the day?”

    Ness stepped between the two and looped an arm around their shoulders. “Great idea. Who knows, maybe we’ll run into some celebrities.”

Chapter Text

    The trio jumped off the subway that stopped at the northern end of the nation’s most iconic intersection. The three teens looked around in wonder, dazzled by the flashing lights from the uncountable billboards above them, the sea of people and the smells and sounds that assaulted their senses the moment they exited the station. On the other side, a red traffic light held back a fleet of honking cars as faceless people crossed the street in brisk strides. The streets brimmed with cars and pedestrians alike. Every other person wore a business suit or held a bagel wrapped in a paper bag for a quick lunch as they went about their day. The sensory overload proved too much for Lucas, who reached for Ness’s arm in apprehension. Ness could swear that his wrist would end up bruised by the time they got back to Onett.

    “Too many people here,” Lucas said with a faint hint of panic in his voice.

    Paula rolled her eyes. “They won’t bite, you big baby. Hey, look at that huge shop over there.” She pointed out an enormous Art Deco building with a large sign carrying the store’s name in large print, a five-pointed star logo and the words ‘The World’s Largest Store’ underneath it.

    “Should we check it out?” Lucas said. “We still have more than an hour before the show.”

    “Sure,” Ness replied and walked over toward the store, leading the trio. Inside the store, Ness dragged the other two to the upper floors, where the store sold sports equipment. Paula and Lucas watched as Ness swooned over this baseball bat or that mitt, lamenting the lack of good stores in Onett. He fell in love with a silver, sturdy-looking bat, but complained about the obscene price tag. He bagged a nifty-looking mitt instead.

    “Did you see that bat, Lucas? It was so awesome,” Ness fawned as they stepped onto the escalators, Paula standing behind them.

    Lucas managed to get out a noncommittal “Uh-huh.” He wasn’t interested in sports gear one bit.

    Ness continued. “…I mean, that much for a baseball bat? Gimme a break!”

    Lucas tuned out Ness’s rant, his gaze drifting to the store’s botanical section.

    “…It’s great, but the price is just outrageous,” Lucas managed to distantly hear, before Paula finally intervened.

    “Ness, with all due respect,” she said. “I think Lucas and I stopped listening five minutes ago.”

    Ness puffed out a cheek, grumbling about nobody around sharing his interests as Lucas browsed the gardening supplies. Rows of seeds and flowers were neatly displayed. Lucas picked out sweet woodruff and lilac seeds before a packet of marigold seeds caught his eye.

•    •    •

    ‘Gosh, he’s like a little angel.’

    ‘What if he’s too troubled for us? Are we making a mistake?’

•    •    •

    “Marigolds are in season,” he mused, picking up a packet and turning it in his hand. “These are Molly’s favorite. I bet she’d be happy to see them in our garden.”

    Paula smiled and leaned over to look at the packet. “They’re beautiful. I’m sure Auntie Molly would love them.”

    After bagging the seeds, they moved to another section where a stand of teddy bears caught their attention. Paula squealed in delight, standing before a display of cherry red teddy bears, her eyes fixed on one.

    “Lucas, look at this bear! Isn’t it adorable?”

    Ness smirked. “Really, Paula? Aren’t you a little old for stuffed animals?”

    Paula stuck her tongue out at him. “Not when they’re this adorable! Besides, it’ll be a great memento from Fourside. Buy it for me, will you?”

    With a mock groan, Ness relented, picking up the bear. He thrust the stuffed animal into Lucas’s hands. “You’re on bag duty, pal. Mine won’t fit.”

    Lucas threw him a flat look before he shook his head. “You two are something else.”

    Before Ness could reply, a jingle played out from the store’s PA system. A tinny voice followed . “Attention, dear shoppers at Marcy’s! Don’t forget, our special fashion show is coming up! See the latest in women’s fashion at our pavilion. Starting soon at 5 pm on the ground floor.”

    “Uh, Lucas?” Paula’s voice came from down the aisle.

    “Hm?”

    “Remind me, what time are we supposed to be at the theater?”

    “Five o’clock sharp.”

    Paula winced. “Ah. You see, we only have twenty minutes to make it there.”

•    •    •

    “And voilà,” Ness, out of breath, announced as he flourished his arms at the building in front of them. “Topolla Theater!”

    The three took a moment to catch their breath. After a mad dash down the street from the subway station, they managed to make it to the theater in record time, with barely a minute to spare. Lucas raised his head to look at the Topolla’s façade.

    “That looks… impressive,” he said, his eyes widening as he took in the large crowd gathered in front of the comparatively smaller theater. Duster was performing here?

    “It’s one of the most famous theaters in the country,” Paula explained. “You have no idea how many artists would kill to have a chance at performing in this place.”

    “Really?”

    “Yup,” Paula said, then looked at him with interest. “So who’s your friend you wanted to meet here?”

    “An old family friend from back in Tazmily. He’s with a band that’s performing here tonight.”

    Ness’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?” he said, gesturing toward a billboard at the theater gates. “This band?”

    Lucas’s eyes followed Ness’s finger to a poster reading, “World-Famous: VENUS” in bold print, and “Opening Act: D.C.M.C.” The poster depicted a cartoon illustration of the five members of the band. Lucas recognized Duster as the bassist, who appeared on the left side with a comically exaggerated nose and holding an upright bass.

    “Holy mackerel, it’s Venus!” Ness exclaimed in awe. “Your friend is really something.”

    Lucas smirked. “Maybe. He’s the best bassist I know, but I’m biased.”

    “Oh, is he the one with the big nose?”

    “That’s him,” Lucas said. “Come on, let’s go in.”

    Paula lifted a hand to stop them. “Hold on. This is such a high-profile concert with a celebrity. How are we getting in without tickets?”

    Lucas stopped in his tracks, his face falling. “I… I didn’t think about that.”

    “You didn’t think about that?” Ness repeated, incredulous. “How did you plan on getting in?”

    Before Lucas could answer, a vibrant burst of pink caught his eye. A young woman with striking pink hair strode confidently from the theater gate, her gaze scanning the crowd until it fixed on the trio.

    “Hiya, Lucas!” she called out as she approached, hand extended. Lucas shook it, staring owlishly at her as he took in her unusual appearance. Apart from the oddball hair color, she wore a button-up shirt and wide-legged trousers, giving her a fairly masculine look.

    “I’m Kumatora, Duster’s bandmate,” she said in Islandish. “He’s stuck with last-minute prep work, so he sent me to get you. He said you’d be here.”

    She briefly sized up Ness and Paula. “These are your pals?”

    “Yeah, this is Paula and Ness,” he replied in his native tongue, gesturing at them. He paused for a moment. “Um, have we met before?”

    Kumatora chuckled. “Don’t think so. I’m from Osohe, a stone’s throw from Tazmily.” Switching to Eaglelandish, she continued. “Sorry about that, I bet that was all gobbledygook to you two.” She reintroduced herself briefly and, with a mischievous grin, added, “I got some tickets for you three. Duster told me to get you good seats, so I hope you’re ready for a great show.”

    “That’s so nice of you,” Paula said, smiling at her. “Thanks!”

    “Don’t think I’d put Duster’s pals in the nosebleed section,” Kumatora said. “Too bad I couldn’t get you box seats, though. Go grab some snacks and enjoy the show.”

    She passed Lucas a rectangular card.

    “Duster put your name on the guest list, plus-ones included,” she said with a wink. “Keep this stage pass on you, and come check us out in the backstage afterward. It should be fun.”

    “Wouldn’t miss it,” Lucas said. “Thank you.”

    Kumatora gave a salute and left. A few minutes later, the trio took their seats which had a great view of the stage. The theater was packed, with people of all ages filling the seats. Some groups passed in front of them, occasionally stepping on their shoes or knocking into their knees. Eventually, the view of the stage was unobstructed just as the lights dimmed, with spotlights disappearing from the stage.

    “Ladies and gentlemen,” a loud booming voice came out from the speakers. “Let’s hear it for the DCMC!”

    The already loud crowd cheered on as faint music began playing, and a spotlight centered on a man with yellow hair and a peach-colored suit walking into the stage.

    “Tonda Gossa,” the man said into the microphone. “We are the Desperado Crash Mambo Combo. That’s DCMC for ya. I am OJ, and these are the boys.”

    “Is that broad a boy, too?” One of the audience members shouted, pointing at Kumatora at the drums.

    Duster leaned into OJ’s microphone. “Yes,” he said in a monotone.

    Kumatora raised an arm and flipped off the heckler, eliciting a round of laughter and cheers from the audience.

    “You heard Lucky,” OJ said.

    “What kind of name is Lucky?” Ness yelled to be heard over the cheering crowd.

    “It’s a stage name,” Lucas replied.

    “You don’t say!”

    Kumatora began counting time, then the band kicked off their set with a catchy, upbeat rhythm. While Lucas listened in for the bass, Ness liked the lead guitar riff while Paula nodded to the beat. The frontman began singing, his voice dramatically different from the deep tone he normally spoke with. A few songs later, the band seemed to have won over the crowd, which was cheering rabidly and chanting the band’s name.

    “All right,” OJ said. “We’re havin’ fun, aren’t we, Fourside?”

    The crowd responded with a deafening roar of approval.

    “Well, have I got a bombshell for you tonight, kids. Say Welcome Home to Venus!”

    The crowd erupted in applause and cheering as a tall, blonde woman in a black dress walked onto the stage. Kumatora ticked a slow beat as Duster played a perfect rendition of a famous bassline of one of Venus’s most well-known songs. Venus and OJ sang the bluesy song as a duet, accentuating their lines with a slow dance.

    “Tonda Gossa!”

•    •    •

    “That was awesome,” Ness exclaimed as he exited the hall with Lucas and Paula. “Those DCMC guys were unbelievably good. How the hell have I not heard about them yet?”

    “Venus was really pretty, too,” Paula said with a grin.

    “Shouldn’t we go to the backstage now?” Lucas asked. “Actually, how do you get there?”

    “I’d look over there,” Paula said, pointing to a large archway marked with a sign that read ‘Authorized Personnel Only’. A security guard stood there to bar fans from following the band backstage.

    “Then let’s go already,” Ness said, dragging the other two by the arm. Lucas showed the backstage pass to the guard, who let them in after telling them not to spend too much time inside. They were given odd looks by several people who went about their business, but paid them no mind. They stopped in front of a door with a star in the middle.

    “I guess this is where the band is?” Ness said, unsure whether to knock, but Lucas had already rapped on the door. The door opened to reveal the bassist, who broke into a grin at the sight of Lucas.

    “Lucas, my man,” Duster said as he shook hands with his friend. He then nodded at Ness and Paula. “Are those your pals?”

    “That’s Paula, my cousin, and this is Ness, a friend from school.”

    “Pleased to meet ya. Well then, come on in.”

    Duster stepped to the side and swung the door open. Lucas walked in with Paula and Ness following behind, taking in their surroundings. The room’s walls were painted a shade of green with thin yellow stripes running from the ceiling to the floor, and posters of singers and bands that came and went lined up the walls. The room buzzed with post-concert energy; Kumatora and the rest of the band members stood around, the guitarist smoked in the corner, and the keyboardist chatted with OJ.

    “Hey,” OJ spoke up. “You’re the little tyke who got us our Lucky?”

    “That’s right,” ‘Lucky’ said, closing the door. “If it wasn’t for Lucas and his golden ticket, I would’ve been stuck in Onett, playing with a different bunch of washed-up musicians.”

    “Don’t let the cool act fool ya, kid,” Kumatora said with a laugh, socking Duster on the back. “The boys and I got Lucky trashed that one time, and he swore he’d name his firstborn after you if he ever had kids.”

    “You’re not supposed to tell that story!” Duster exclaimed, his cheeks reddening. “I was drunk, and I didn’t mean it!”

    Lucas shuffled his feet, a little embarrassed. “…You don’t have to do that, Duster. Although, what’s with the nickname?”

    “Heh, Kumatora said calling me ‘Duster’ won’t bring us many fans,” Duster said. “I told her I was lucky old Wess didn’t name me ‘Moron’ or any of the fun things he used to call me, so they all began calling me ‘Lucky’ and it stuck. Though please, it’s just Duster to you.”

    A flash of recognition crossed Ness’s face. Wasn’t this the hobo from that evening? When Duster caught his stare, Ness immediately faced away, his eyes roaming the walls, before pausing at a particular poster. “Hey, Paula, remember this?” he asked, pointing to a vibrant poster of the Runaway Five. “We saw them last year in Twoson, didn’t we?”

    Paula smiled, nodding in agreement. “It was a blast!”

    “Aha,” Kumatora said, clamping a friendly hand on Ness’s shoulder. “You’re a fan of the Runaway Five too? They’re the chillest band, man.”

    “Uh, yeah. Yeah, they’re great,” Ness said gingerly.

    Kumatora engaged them in small talk, asking about their hometown and school life. Ness and Paula answered her questions, while Lucas stood to the side, observing the band members. He stood next to Duster, who was now packing his bass into a case. He looked over at Lucas and smiled.

    “Glad you could make it, Lucas,” Duster said in their native tongue. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the front. We had a lot of stuff to do before the show.”

    “Don’t worry about it,” Lucas replied. “I’m just glad I could see you perform. You were amazing out there.”

    “Thanks, kid,” Duster said, leaning his bass case against the wall. He glanced at Ness and Paula, who were chatting with Kumatora. “So, how’s Onett? The old place treating you well?”

    “Same as you left it,” Lucas said. “Save for the occasional weird evangelical cultists.”

    “Speaking of which,” Duster straightened up. “I’ve been keeping an ear to the ground about that cult you mentioned. I’ve got a drinking pal of mine who works at the precinct where they took the guy you caught. The man was a clam, and he wouldn’t say a word about what he was doing there. But the cops know something from a recent case that’s connected to some cult around Twoson.”

    A loud laugh erupted from the other side of the room at something Kumatora said, and Duster paused, waiting for it to die down before continuing. Lucas tipped his head and gestured for Duster to continue.

    “So, a few weeks ago, some men were busted for driving a car without a license plate. They were acting suspiciously, and the cops decided to search the car. They found equipment for making some sort of drug — not the kind that gets you high, but something medical.”

    “Drug? What kind of drug?”

    “I don’t know. Some real nasty stuff the Pigmasks used to use during the war. It’s like prussic acid but deadlier. Fortunately, these guys didn’t have nearly enough gear to actually make it. Looked like either they were small fry or just couriers moving supplies for someone bigger. My buddy thinks the two you ran into at the zoo might’ve been part of the same circle.”

    “That’s a hell of a story, Duster,” Lucas said. “Do you have any idea who they were working for?”

    Duster shook his head. “No idea, but the whole thing stinks. Keep your wits about you, kid, and don’t go looking for trouble. I live far away now, and I worry.”

    “I’ll be careful, I promise,” Lucas said. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

    Duster smirked and clapped Lucas on the shoulder. “Good. Now, let’s stop talking about that and join the others. I didn’t bring you here to talk about this stuff.”

    The door swung open, and Venus walked in, still in her flowing black dress from the concert. She had a very relaxed air around her from the way she casually greeted OJ and Kumatora, then sat cross-legged on the oversized couch in the middle of the room.

    “Hey, Magic! Gimme a smoke,” she said to the guitarist. He gave her one with a lighter. She lit it up and blew a puff of smoke.

    “Careful now, Venus,” OJ said jokingly. “Smoking’s not good for your voice.”

    Venus let out a loud laugh. “That’s a load of crap. After a concert it helps me relax. You should try it out once in a while, OJ.”

    Paula waved away the plume of smoke. Venus noticed the three kids and stubbed out her cigarette, resting her chin on a hand.

    “Ah, nuts. Why didn’t you tell me there were children around?” she asked, examining the three as they drew closer.

    Ness, a bit overwhelmed but trying to play it cool, gave a small, hesitant wave. He managed to mutter a “hi” with a nervous smile.

    “Mercy, look at the dimples on this one,” she said, gesturing at Ness. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing? I could just eat you up!”

    “Uhh…” Ness managed to say after she’d said that, a dusting of pink spread across his face. Paula went stiff, her eyes narrowing at Venus. She reached out, gripped the back of Lucas’s arm and held it tight.

    “Say, sugar, what’s your name?” Venus asked, flashing Ness a dazzling smile and gesturing at him to come closer. Lucas winced as Paula dug her nails into his arm as if she was squeezing a lemon.

    “…Ness?”

    “Ace name, darling,” Venus said, leaning back and crossing her legs. Paula, visibly put out, cleared her throat. Noticing her, Venus winked. “You keep him honest, honey. Boys this pretty can be trouble.”

    Paula’s jaw tightened. “He’s something, all right.”

    “Well, looks like Venus has taken a bit of a shine to you, kid,” Duster joked. Paula shot him a glare.

    “She sure has,” Paula said evenly with a tight smile. Lucas shuddered at the thoughts he heard streaming from her mind.

    “I’m a huge fan, Venus,” Ness gushed, giving her a wide-eyed look. “I’ve got every record and magazine you’ve ever been in!”

    “Oh?” Venus said, then her smile turned mischievous. “I sure hope you haven’t got magazines from my… earlier modeling days, if you catch my drift.”

    Everyone in the room fell silent. Ness’s eyes widened, the blush on his face grew impossibly darker while Lucas and Paula’s jaws effectively hit the floor. Duster and Kumatora turned around, their faces tinted scarlet with barely-constrained laughter. They cracked up, letting out raucous hoots.

    “Venus,” Kumatora managed to say, wiping a tear and gasping for breath. “He’s just a kid. What the hell?”

    “What? You’re making me sound like I was some pin-up floozy,” Venus said breezily. “I rocked the best one-piece swimsuits in the business. A lady’s gotta make a living, you know.” She winked at Ness, who was now red to the tips of his ears and staring at the floor, mortified. “You ain’t seen those, have you, Nessie?”

    “N—no, ma’am!” Ness squeaked, shrinking as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

    “You’ve got to be kidding,” Lucas said, still in disbelief. He turned to Kumatora, switching to Islandish. “Is she always like this?”

    Kumatora shrugged. “She’s harmless. Just a little… eccentric. I don’t think she knows how to deal with kids, or maybe she just doesn’t care.” She nodded toward Paula. “You can almost see the smoke coming out of your cousin’s ears, right? I bet Venus’s either trying to get a rise out of her or play matchmaker.”

    Lucas snorted. “I think she’s doing both well.”

    Kumatora laughed and shook her head, then her expression turned serious. “Hey. Can we talk for a second? Let’s step outside for a moment.”

    She motioned for Lucas to follow, and he nodded. They ducked out of the room just as Paula grabbed Ness by the arm and dragged him to stand a good distance away from Venus. Kumatora led Lucas down a narrow hallway that led to a balcony overlooking the theater’s back alley. It was already dark outside, with the lights of the city peeking out from the nearby rooftops.

    “What’s up?” Lucas asked.

    Kumatora leaned against the railing next to him and cast him a sidelong glance. “You’re still doing it, you know.”

    Lucas frowned. “Doing what?”

    “You’re letting your mind root around everyone’s heads like a pig hunting for truffles,” Kumatora said. “You’re not even trying to hide it.”

    Lucas stared at her in disbelief. “I… You know about that?”

    “Your mind is practically screaming at me to let it dig in my head,” Kumatora said, crossing her arms. “A little rude, don’t you think?”

    “I can’t help it,” Lucas stammered. “I never ask for other people’s thoughts to get in my head. It just happens.” He looked at her curiously. “But how can you tell?”

    “Oh. You think other people’s thoughts just pop into your head, do you?” Kumatora said. “Well, that’s not how it works. You can control it, but you have to learn how.”

    She straightened up, looking thoughtful. “Tell me, kid. Do you know what a psychic is? Do you know who woke up your powers?”

    Lucas stared at her blankly, and she sighed. “I guess you don’t. Well, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. We’re all psychics to a certain degree. You, me, and everyone from the Islands. But only those few who were awakened can use their powers. That’s why I want to ask: Who the hell woke up your powers?”

    “I don’t know,” Lucas said, feeling like he was being put on the spot. “I could hear thoughts before I even knew what they were. I thought it was normal until I realized it wasn’t. I don’t know who or what woke me up.”

    Kumatora’s expression softened. “Then, can you tell me what happened to you? I mean, considering you survived Tazmily, I’m guessing you went through something traumatic, haven’t you?”

    Lucas stared at his feet. “Yes. When the Pigmasks attacked, they shelled a building my family and I were hiding behind. They… they died in the explosion, and I was trapped under the rubble for hours. I thought I was going to die because I couldn’t move or breathe. But then other survivors found me and pulled me out. I don’t know how to explain it, but the second I was free, something inside me just… clicked. By the time I was in Fourside, I was already hearing thoughts. I thought it was normal, but I guess it’s not.”

    Kumatora exhaled slowly. “Sorry to hear that, Lucas. Normally, you’re supposed to be awakened by someone else. It’s a rite of passage, and only done by people who know what they’re doing. But it sounds like you got it the hard way. I’m sorry.”

    “How about you?” Lucas asked. “Have you got powers too?”

    “I do,” Kumatora said. “I got awakened by my parent. They’re a Magypsy. I can create fire and ice, but I’m lousy at controlling it. Don’t ask for a show because I’ll probably burn the place down. It’s bad for the trade, you see.”

    Lucas tried to remember the ‘Magypsy’ term. Grandpa Alec said something about them. Magypsies were these eccentric shamanic figures — neither male nor female — from back home. He recalled that Grandpa was friends with one, but he couldn’t remember the name.

    “How about you, kiddo?” Kumatora said. “Besides rooting through others’ brains, got anything else up your sleeve?”

    Lucas fidgeted a bit. He was with a safe person, so he figured he could show what he could really do, couldn’t he?

    “I haven’t done it much, but I can move stuff with my mind,” Lucas said, pointing at an ashtray on a table. It wobbled, before it rose up and Lucas guided outside the balcony, flying it like a kite.

    Kumatora whistled. “Impressive, kid. What else can you do?”

    Lucas guided the ashtray back to the balcony, then extended his index finger. Kumatora let out a gasp when tiny sparks emanated from his fingertip, before the sparks coalesced into bright yellow and teal geometric shapes that danced around his digit. The delicate, glowing shapes flickered in and out of existence, casting a soft light on their faces. Lucas threw Kumatora a grin, then lobbed the shapes at her. She ducked, but the shapes simply phased through her and hit the wall behind her, exploding in a shower of sparks that faded into the air.

    Kumatora swore and jumped back, almost bumping into Lucas. “Give a girl some warning, will ya? I thought you were gonna blow me to smithereens!”

    Lucas laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I can’t control it that well yet, but I can tell it not to hurt certain people, and I can make it explode like that. I don’t get to do it often, though. People wouldn’t understand, and I don’t want to scare them.”

    “Impressive, kid,” Kumatora said. “This is probably the first time I’ve seen someone who can do that, on top of all the telepathy stuff. You’re probably one of a kind.”

    Lucas turned a bit pink. “Thanks, I guess. I really don’t know what to do with this power. I feel like I’m a freak.”

    Kumatora snorted and rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but a creak from the door interrupted her. The two of them turned to see a figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the light from inside. The red cap gave the figure away as Ness, who was staring open-mouthed at the two of them. He walked out onto the balcony and closed the door behind him. He kept his eyes glued to the floor, his cheeks flushed.

    “Um, sorry,” he said. “I came to get Lucas because it was getting late, and we really should go back to the hotel. I didn’t mean to interrupt you two.”

    Kumatora crossed her arms and leaned against the railing, and Lucas didn’t need to read anyone’s thoughts to know that Ness probably saw the whole thing.

    A second passed, and Ness seemed to gather his wits about him. “What the hell did I just see?”

    “Nothing, kid,” Kumatora said, then turned to Lucas and spoke in Islandish. “Can you make him forget he saw anything? You’re the mind reader here.”

    Lucas shook his head. It felt weird to speak in Islandish in front of Ness, so he answered in Eaglelandish. “I can’t. I don’t know why, but I can’t read his mind, much less make him forget anything.”

    “Really, now?” Kumatora asked. “Wanna bet it’s because the kid’s got nothing going on in that noggin of his?”

    “Hey!” Ness protested.

    “I’m just saying,” Kumatora said, shrugging. “This kind of stuff isn’t exactly common, but I’m not an expert. My parent is the one who knows about this stuff. I only know the basics.”

    Kumatora glanced at Lucas. “It’s a pity you’re leaving tomorrow. Duster was right about you. You’re a swell kid, and I’d like to see you again sometime.”

    She tore a piece off a newspaper on the table and scribbled an address on it. She handed it to Lucas and said, “If you’re ever back in Fourside, drop by my place in the city.” She then turned to Ness and added, “Anyway, Venus’s latest love interest is now your problem, Luke. I’m outta here.”

    She gave them a mock salute and walked out of the balcony, leaving Lucas and Ness alone. Lucas felt a bit embarrassed, but also irritated that Kumatora chose to throw him under the bus like that. He turned to Ness, who was still staring at him with wide eyes.

    “What?” Lucas asked defensively.

    “What do you mean, ‘what’?” Ness said. “You’re walking around shooting heat rays from your fingers and making things float, and you’re asking me ‘what?’”

    “Those weren’t heat rays,” Lucas said, avoiding Ness’s gaze.

    “That’s not the point!” Ness said. “Listen, ever since we met, weird stuff has been happening around you. I thought it was just a coincidence, but now I know it’s not. You’re not, like, a spy or something, are you?”

    “A spy?” Lucas scoffed. “Yes, Ness. I’m a fourteen-year-old alien spy out of a comic book. That’s exactly what I am.”

    “Don’t be a wise guy. I’ve been meaning to pick your brain about what happened a few weeks ago.” Ness tilted his head, his eyes searching Lucas’s face. “You know what I’m talking about. Like that day at the park when you just vanished. One moment you were there and the next, poof! Gone.”

    “Ness, I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

    “Why? It was right in front of me. Don’t you think I deserve some sort of explanation?” Ness continued. “And just before that — those guys who tried to jump you, and the next thing I know, they’re running away looking like they’d seen a ghost. Is that also got to do with whatever you can do?”

    Lucas’s eyes widened. “Were you following me back then?”

    Ness held up his hands defensively. “Not intentionally. I… happened to be heading to the same direction. But that’s not important. What did you do to scare away three thugs, and how come you just fainted right afterwards?”

    Lucas shrunk into himself, his gaze darting anywhere in the room but Ness. “It wasn’t anything. Maybe they got spooked?”

    Ness crossed his arms. “C’mon, Blondie. I wouldn’t say you’re that ugly,” he tried to joke, but his voice had an edge of worry. “Look, whatever it is you’re hiding, you can trust me. I just want to understand you.”

    Lucas slumped his shoulders. “It’s not that. It’s just… it’s a long story.”

    Ness walked over to lean on the railing next to him. “We got all night, buddy. I’m all ears.”

    “Didn’t you just say we gotta go back to the hotel?” Lucas said, trying to deflect. Ness only threw him a pointed look and Lucas sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this. Ness had already seen too much, so he might as well tell him the truth.

    “All right, how much did you hear from me and Kumatora?” he asked.

    “Not much,” Ness said. “I didn’t understand a word you two were saying, but I saw you making that ashtray float and then you pulled those glowing things out of your finger like some roadside magician. If you tell me you can read people’s brains too, I’m going to lose it.”

    Lucas grimaced. “Here’s the thing, Ness…”

    “Get outta here,” Ness said, incredulous. “You’re not joking, are you?”

    Lucas shook his head. “I could hear people’s thoughts since I was eight,” he said and turned back to lean against the railing. “Remember Pokey’s dad back at the Monotoli Building? His plans to run for mayor were all over his mind, and I used it to embarrass him in front of his business partner.”

    “I’ll be damned,” Ness said. “Don’t hold out on me, Blondie. Can you also turn invisible? Fly?”

    A wry smile crept onto Lucas’s face. “I wish. No, I can’t do any of that. I can only hear people’s thoughts, and sometimes I can make things float or explode.” He paused, then added, “You saw this already, but I can also make these glowing shapes appear out of thin air.”

    He cast a look behind his back at the deserted alley below. He stared intently at his hand and waved it in the air, and the glowing shapes reappeared, swirling around his fingers.

    “Wow,” Ness breathed, mesmerized. The delicate, glowing shapes flickered in and out of existence, casting alternating shadows and gleams on Ness’s awestruck face. He managed to pull his gaze away to look into Lucas’s eyes. The distant look in them made Lucas look years older than he really was.

    “Lucas…” Ness began, but his voice trailed off, not quite knowing what to say.

    “When that Sharks thug threatened me that day, I got inside his mind. I opened up something in there that I shouldn’t have.” Lucas balled his hand into a fist and the glowing shapes abruptly dissipated, returning the balcony to its former dimness and snapping Ness out of his trance. The sudden absence of light made Ness acutely aware of Lucas’s proximity as they stood shoulder to shoulder.

    “I didn’t mean to, but it… no, I messed him up. Maybe for good,” Lucas said, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m a monster, Ness.”

    Ness leaned back and stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, he broke the silence. “Well, can you read my mind?”

    Lucas looked up, meeting Ness’s eyes for the first time since his revelation. He shook his head. “No, I can’t. For some reason, your thoughts are like a closed book. Believe me, I tried.”

    Ness let out a sharp puff of air, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on the railing. He stared ahead at the street below, seemingly trying to process everything Lucas had just told him.

    Seeing the incredulity in Ness’s expression, Lucas shook his head. “I know, I sound like a two-bit phony. Forget everything I said, okay?”

    Ness snorted, nudging Lucas’s side. “Right, just forget? Not after that little magic show you just pulled.” He chuckled. “No, I believe you. And for the record, I don’t think you’re a monster.”

    “But Ness, I—”

    “Hell, you can’t read my mind,” Ness cut in. “Maybe that means we’re both freaks! This is nuts. It absolutely is, and I’m trying to wrap my head around all of this. Still, I know one thing for sure.” He patted Lucas on the shoulder. “I don’t see a monster here. Just a nice kid who loves flowers and is ridiculously good with animals. Sure, you’re kind of a real-life Superman, but you’re no monster.”

    Lucas’s expression softened. “You… you mean it?”

    “Yeah, ’course I do. I like you, and I’m sure Paula does too. You’re our friend before any of this psychic stuff.” Ness grinned. “Between you and me, I always thought Pokey was way more of a monster, and he can’t read to begin with, let alone read other people’s minds.”

    Lucas smiled. “Thank you, Ness. This really means a lot to me.”

    Ness reached up and ruffled Lucas’s hair. “Anytime, buddy. Anyway, we should really get back to the hotel before Pirkle is out for blood. I don’t want to be the one to explain why we’re late.”

    They headed back inside, where they found Paula looking distinctly anxious while Venus continued to monopolize the conversation. The moment she saw them return, Paula practically leaped to her feet.

    “There you are!” she exclaimed. “We really should head back to the hotel. Duster already phoned the hotel to let them know we’d be late because of the buses, but I don’t want to push our luck.”

    “Sorry we vanished,” Lucas said, “Is Mrs. Pirkle cross with us?”

    “She will be if we don’t get back soon,” Paula said. “She doesn’t know we’re unchaperoned, and if she finds out, we’ll be in big trouble.”

    “Aw, leaving so soon?” Venus said with a pout. “Well, all right, pumpkins. Bedtime.” She got up, walked over to Ness and flicked his cap, earning a surprised yelp from him and a sour look from Paula.

    Lucas faced Kumatora, who was leaning against the wall near him, arms crossed. She met Lucas’s eyes and tilted her head in Ness’s direction. Lucas gave her a brief nod and she smirked, giving him a thumbs up.

    “Thanks for everything, Kumatora,” Lucas said. ”I’ll be sure to drop by if I’m ever in Fourside again.”

    “You better,” Kumatora said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

    Duster leaned his bass against the wall and opened his arms and threw a smirk at Lucas, who stepped into the hug.

    “Knock ’em dead, Lucky.”

    “Already did,” Duster said. “Catch you on the flip side, kiddo.”

    Venus jingled a set of keys. “Your hotel’s on my way home. Let me drive you, dears. I insist.” Paula looked ready to flatly refuse until Venus added, “Buses don’t run this late, and you said it. If you miss curfew, your teachers will tan your hides.”

    “You’d really drive us?” Ness said in awe. Venus chuckled, bending down to his level and tracing a finger on the bridge of his nose.

    “Anything for you, doll,” she cooed. Paula stepped in and extricated Ness from Venus’s grasp with a little more force than necessary, making him stumble forward a bit.

    “Guess we should get moving, then,” Paula said with a forced smile.

•    •    •

    The ride back to the hotel was mercifully short, though Ness spent the entire time gawking at the car’s luxurious interior and asking Venus questions about the car. As they pulled up to the hotel entrance, the three unbuckled their seatbelts. Within ten short minutes, the Wraith nosed up to the hotel entrance. Venus killed the engine and turned in her seat. “End of the line, kids.”

    They tumbled out of the car. Venus rolled down her window and crooked her finger at the three. “Come here a second, Nessie.”

    Ness approached the window, and Venus pulled out a silk handkerchief from her purse — bright red with her initials embroidered in gold threads on one corner. She pressed it into his hand, closing his fingers around it.

    “A little souvenir,” she purred, her hand lingering on his. “In case you ever need to remember tonight. Maybe when you’re older, you can return it to me, hm?”

    She leaned back and blew a kiss to all three of them.

    “Listen to your parents and eat your veggies, kids. Nighty-night!”

    They watched her wave at them before speeding on her way, leaving Ness standing there clutching the handkerchief with a dazed look on his face.

    Paula pursed her lips, looking at Ness askance. “I bet you’re so pleased with yourself, Ness.”

    “Huh?” Ness blinked as he stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket, then groaned. “No, I swear this was literally the most awkward evening of my life.” He chuckled nervously. “Never meet your idols, huh?”

    Paula exhaled sharply, then huffed away back to the hotel.

    “Paula, wait!” Ness called after her, but she didn’t reply. “Aw, man…” Ness muttered, deflated.

    Lucas snickered at him. “I never thought you’d be such a Casanova, Ness.”

    Ness turned to Lucas and threw him a glare, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. “Are you jealous that Venus paid more attention to me than you?”

    “No way,” Lucas said with a shrug. “That woman is twice our age. Celebrity or not, she was a little fresh with you.”

    “Oh c’mon! She’s like, twenty-eight, tops.”

    “And you’re fifteen. Do the math.”

    “Okay, you are jealous,” Ness said. “Tell me, Blondie. Do you have a secret crush on Venus? Or maybe,” he leaned in closer, his smirk widening, “you wish you were the one doing the flirting instead of her?”

    Lucas’s expression remained impassive as he pushed his palm into Ness’s face, shoving him back, although a red flush crept up his cheeks. “Knock it off. I wouldn’t flirt with you even if you were the last human alive.”

    “Sure, whatever you say.” Ness rolled his eyes, then a dreamy look crossed his face. “But seriously, did you see her car? I never thought I’d get inside a Silver Wraith in my whole life.”

    “Yes, you’ve mentioned it a dozen times already,” Lucas said. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a car.”

    Ness looked at him as if he were questioning his sanity. “Lucas. What part of ‘Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith’ do you not understand?” he said, enunciating each word carefully. “If everybody knew we got to ride in a Silver Wraith with Venus herself, we’d become legends at school.”

    “It’s an overpriced ride, I get it. Look, I’m freezing my rear end off out here, can we go inside?”

    “Man, you’re no fun,” Ness said with a huff, following Lucas into the lobby.

    They stepped inside the hotel, and Lucas immediately spotted Pokey loitering in the lobby. He looked like he’d been waiting for them, as he peeled himself off the wall and waddled over to them, a smug grin plastered on his face.

    “Look what the cat dragged in,” he said. “I saw there were some ratty-looking kids in the lobby, but I didn’t think they’d be you two losers. Had fun out on the streets?”

    “What do you want, Pokey?” Lucas replied, already annoyed.

    “Just wanted to remind you that this isn’t a place for the likes of you,” Pokey said. “My father made it very clear that you’re not welcome in this hotel. I’m surprised you’re even showing your ugly mug here.”

    Lucas glared at him. “Your father is the reason we’re in this city to begin with. And if you hadn’t blabbed about his plans, none of this would’ve happened.”

    Pokey’s face turned red. “Shut up. You tricked me!”

    “I didn’t trick you into anything. I asked a dumb question, and your big, fat mouth did the rest.”

    Pokey flared his nostrils and breathed out through them like a bull. Instead of retaliating, he waved over two burly house detectives in dark suits who had been standing near the elevators.

    “These two gentlemen would like a word with you,” Pokey said, pointing at Lucas, before his smirk returned. “Seems there’s been a problem with your reservation, shrimp.”

    “Mr. Minch,” one of the men said, looking at Lucas. “This is him?”

    “That’s him,” Pokey confirmed. The house detective turned to Lucas.

    “Son, I’m afraid your stay at this hotel has been terminated,” one of them said. “Management’s orders.”

    Lucas stared at him in shock. “What?”

    “You heard him,” Pokey said smugly. “And don’t waste your breath trying to get the teachers involved. They think you two have been sulking in your room all day after you got kicked out of the Monotoli building.”

    Lucas and Ness exchanged incredulous looks. “You can’t be serious,” Lucas said, trying to reason with them. “I have nowhere else to go.”

    “Not our problem,” the second detective said. “Please collect your belongings and leave the premises immediately.”

    “Tough break, loser,” Pokey said. He turned to Ness. “This is for the best, Ness. You don’t need to be hanging out with this trash.”

    “This is ridiculous,” Ness said. “This can’t be legal. I’m calling the cops.”

    The house detectives exchanged an amused glance. “Be my guest, kid,” the first one said. “The police in this city answer to Mr. Minch. You’ll be lucky if they don’t throw you in jail for trespassing.”

    Lucas put a hand on Ness’s arm. “Let it go, Ness. Don’t make this worse.”

    “No way,” Ness said, then jabbed a finger at the men. “Screw you. If Lucas goes, I go too.”

    “Suit yourself,” the second detective said with a shrug.

    Pokey’s smirk faltered. “Wait, what? Ness, don’t be stupid—”

    “No, you’re the one being stupid,” Ness snapped. “You and your father both. Your old man is throwing Lucas out of the hotel just because he can’t take a little humbling? Give me a break!”

    The first detective sidestepped Ness and grabbed Lucas by the arm, pulling him away from Ness. “Come on, kid. We don’t have all night.”

    “Hey, don’t touch him!” Ness shouted, shoving the detective back.

    By now, their raised voices had attracted attention. Several hotel guests were watching the confrontation, gawking at the sight of some teenager squaring up to two grown men in the middle of the hotel lobby. The house detectives looked annoyed, as if a scene was the last thing they wanted.

    “Look, kid, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but he’s leaving,” the first detective said, then turned to Ness. “And if you don’t want to be thrown out too, you better back off and let us do our job.”

    “He’s not going anywhere,” Ness said. Noticing the crowd, he raised his voice to address them. “We’re part of a school trip. Someone call our teachers—”

    “That’s enough. Out of here, both of you,” the second detective said. The two men grabbed Lucas and Ness by the backs of their jackets, dragging them toward the entrance. Despite kicking and struggling, the burly men frogmarched Lucas and Ness across the lobby and shoved them out the door. They stumbled onto the sidewalk as the house detectives dusted off their hands.

    “Get lost,” one of the detectives said. “Never show your faces here again.”

    Ness scrambled to his feet and picked up his cap, which had fallen off during the scuffle.

    “You sons of bitches!” he yelled after them. “Let us back in!”

    Lucas grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the hotel entrance. “Calm down, Ness. We shouldn’t make any bigger scene than we already have.”

    Ness still swore and shook his fist at the hotel entrance, but nevertheless allowed Lucas to lead him around the block. They ducked into the first alley they found, where Lucas let go of Ness and watched him pace back and forth.

    “I can’t believe this,” Ness said, kicking the side of a nearby dumpster. “Pokey and that lousy father of his. Petty, fat little bastards!” He accentuated the last word with another kick to the dumpster, which rattled with a loud clang. He leaned against a metal shutter and sank down to squat on the ground, wiping angry tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand.

    “I’m so sorry, Ness,” Lucas said. “It’s my fault for getting us kicked out. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut in front of Pokey’s dad.”

    “No. No, it’s entirely that man-swine’s fault,” Ness said. “I never thought Aloysius Minch would stoop so low and have us thrown out like this. What a thin-skinned pissant.”

    He let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m worried about Paula. Will she be okay? Do you think they’ll come after her too?”

    “I don’t think they will,” Lucas said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ve already caused a huge scene, and I doubt they want to draw any more attention to themselves. Besides, Paula’s probably back in her room by now. She’s not the type to get into trouble.”

    Lucas looked around the alley, then back to Ness. “Should we go to the police? Maybe they can help us?”

    “Don’t bother,” Ness said, shaking his head. “That goon in the suit is probably right. I wouldn’t be surprised if the cops are in old man Minch’s pocket. The last thing I want is to get thrown in jail.”

    He rested his elbows on his knees and slumped forward. “What are we going to do now? Are we just going to wait here until morning?”

    “Screw that,” Lucas said. “We need to find a place to stay for the night, then come back here first thing in the morning and wait for Paula or one of the teachers to show up. We’ll raise a big stink about Minch and his goons throwing us out, and I’m sure the teachers will be furious when they find out.”

    “How are we going to find a place to stay?” Ness asked, looking around the dark alley. “It’s past midnight, and we don’t have any money. Paula had my things in her bag.”

    “Whatever money I have isn’t enough to pay for a room anywhere either,” Lucas said. “But I know someone who might be able to help us.”

    “Who’s that?”

    Lucas fished out the newspaper clipping from his pocket. “Kumatora gave me her address. We could go there and try our luck.”

    He held the clipping down to Ness, who squinted at it. “I have no idea where that is,” Ness said, looking up at Lucas. “There aren’t any buses running this late, and I don’t think we can afford a taxi.”

    “So we walk,” Lucas said. “The area is close to where I used to live before I moved to Onett. It’s a couple of hours away on foot. I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on sleeping rough tonight.”

    He offered a hand to Ness, who took it and pulled himself up. “I guess we don’t have a choice,” Ness said, brushing off his pants. “I hope your friend doesn’t mind us showing up at stupid o’clock in the morning.”