Before either Starry Knight or I could object, she released her power’s hold on the moment, and the world began to spin in accordance with Time’s power once more.
I shook off the feeling of displacement, giving myself a moment to center myself, before I heard Rachel bustling around, bewildered by the fight scene and its damages.
Starry Knight and I exchanged glances. Her sadness and her pliant glances had ceased. She was back to putting up a defiant front.
“This isn’t the last time we’re going to discuss the Sinisters’ remains,” she vowed, before heading out of the back door.
I almost called her back. Almost.
Alora told me once that she knew Orpheus had been talking with someone else. Someone who was able to manipulate the force of time so she wasn’t able to see. I’d wondered who she was worried about at the time, and the battle over Celaena made my curiosity grow once more.
I suddenly wondered if he’d reached out to SWORD. After all, they captured Taygetay before. Maybe he was hoping to get her back from them?
Mikey might know something, I thought. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
Either way, nothing that happened today helped me feel better about Orpheus.
I squeezed the crystal of Celaena’s remains in my fist. “Well,” I said, “I guess that’s that.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Elysian nudged my leg with his nose. “Rachel will be in here shortly.”
“Yes. And I suppose I have to get to school,” I said, sighing in dismay. I didn’t need to look at the clock to know I would be late.
☼
5 ☼
Performances
Mikey and I didn’t have a lot of classes together. I was, after all, the class genius. Mikey did have some good sports records—notably, his swim record. But he spent most of his time in high school chasing after girls, so I didn’t see him in really any of my classes.
I guess that without me to rein him in, he managed to get in trouble quite a bit.
That was how we ended up in detention together. Helping the drama students, of all people.
“This is like déjà vu from last year,” I muttered.
Mikey laughed as he picked up some of the band materials and headed toward the storage closets. “Look at the bright side,” he said. “No Tim Ryder this year.”
“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who’s going to be serving detention for the next month,” I observed.
“Just two weeks, Dinger.” He rolled his eyes. “And come on, it was hilarious.”
“I don’t understand why you’d hack into all of Mr. Gallows’ computers just to replace the screensavers with one that read ‘Lookin’ for a good time?’ and then listing Brittany Taylor’s phone number.”
“I told you, I felt bad for Poncey,” Mikey said as he cracked his knuckles playfully. “She annoyed him quite a bit in Mr. Elm’s AP Chemistry class.”
“Because Mr. Elm had assigned them as partners?” I asked. “It hardly seems to warrant a response. Especially in Mr. Gallows’ classroom.”
“Everyone loves his class,” Mikey said. “It’s the perfect place to get the right amount of buzz about it, because now people will feel sorry for him.”
“I feel sorry for you,” I remarked.
“Why?” Mikey’s brow furrowed. “You’ve got Raiya to deal with; you’re always complaining about her. I’d think you would empathize with Poncey on the matter.”
“That’s different—”
“And there’s the matter of how willing I am to do things for my friends,” he added. “I don’t see you helping Poncey out.”
“We’re in detention,” I exclaimed. “Look around. Shakespeare is rolling around in his grave, laughing at us, because he knows this is pure torture for us, and it’s some kind of fitting ‘poetic justice’ deal.”
“Come on,” Mikey said. “Gwen’s here, and I am right about not having to deal with Tim this year.”
Arguing with Mikey, as usual, proved to be useless. I sighed, finally giving up. “That’s true.”
Mikey was actually right about that. Tim Ryder was a nightmare to deal with last year. He was supposed to play the part of Romeo, opposite Gwen’s Juliet, in Romeo and Juliet. This year, he shocked quite a few people by deciding to drop out of high school to try to join the military.
Rumors, of course, swirled around that Gwen’s rejection of him turned a cold, harsh light onto his flimsy dreams of going to some kind of musical arts college and getting to Broadway. Reality can be brutal—especially to people who insist on residing outside its domain.
Of course, I recalled, suddenly apologetic, reality is not always so clear about what is really real.
“I hope Gwen doesn’t feel too badly about it,” Mikey said, surprising me.
“What? Why should she?” I asked. “It’s not like her parents liked him at all or anything. Or that he had an actual plan for success.”
“I find it hilarious that you can read people’s emotions even though you don’t seem to understand them.” Mikey handed me a rolled up banner from the floor. “Here, take this up there, too.”
“I can understand people’s emotions just fine,” I insisted. “It’s their thinking that disturbs me.”
“We’ll see,” Mikey said. “Gwen’s up there running through her lines with the rest of the Hamlet crew.”
“Who’s she playing again?”
“Ophelia.”
“Oh. Can’t remember who she is.”
“Besides Gertrude, Ophelia’s the only female role. From how she explained it, Ophelia’s a tragic role because she’s in love with Hamlet and it makes her go crazy or something, and she ends up killing herself.”
“Oh.” I sighed. “Not too different from Juliet, I see.” Mikey laughed as I added, “I guess she’ll want to talk about this for weeks on end.”
“Better than reminding you that you forgot to invite her to Rachel’s wedding.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled. “Gwen and I agreed not to talk about it, anyway.”
“Too bad. I think you could probably convince her it was better that she didn’t show. I mean, a demon attacked, and Jason even told me the wedding didn’t go according to plan.”
“You mean, besides the monster attack?” I asked. “I didn’t hear that.”
“Oh, well, he mentioned that some of the special music got cut out because of the attack, and Rachel was just a bit disappointed Raiya didn’t play, but—”
“Raiya was supposed to play something?” I asked. I snorted. “Talk about divine providence.”
“She’s supposed to be pretty good.”
“I couldn’t care less.”
“I’ll bet.” Mikey gave me an irritated look. “I heard you danced with her quite a bit.”
“Shut up,” I hissed. “I only did because Grandpa Odd made me, more or less. Do you want Gwen to hear that and get even angrier at me?”
“Well, I’m trying to point out that she’s going to be busy with the play for a few months,” Mikey reminded me. “So not only will it give you something ‘safe’ to talk about with her, but when you need to run out on her, she’ll have something else to do.”
“Gee, thanks.” I scrunched up my nose. “I guess Cheryl will need to find Adam a new babysitter soon, then.”
“Gwen already worked it out with your mom,” Mikey said. “Didn’t she tell you?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Well, she’ll just pick Adam up a little later from the daycare and take him home. On the play’s opening night and during performances, your mom will be asking you to take care of it or she’ll be home.”
“Cheryl said she’ll be home?” I snorted. “That’s a laugh.”
“You can at least plan for it,” Mikey shrugged. “And it does give you the perfect excuse to give Gwen for not seeing the play.”
“That’s true.” I brightened immediately.
He frowned. “Why do you even date her?” Mikey asked. “I mean, I know she??
?s the perfect girlfriend, and she loves you and stuff, but you don’t even seem to like her that much sometimes.”
“Of course I like her,” I insisted. “I just don’t like a lot of the things she does. Like kids and play stuff and cheerleading.”
“Via and Laura haven’t been asking Gwen to do much for the cheerleading squad, now that the Falcons aren’t qualified for Homecoming.” Mikey looked at me meaningfully. “Some say it’s your fault for not signing up for the football team this year.”
“I’ll have next year to do it if I want,” I said. “If I can. And this will really make me look good, if this year we do terribly and next year we make a great comeback.”
I narrowed my glance at him. “Besides, if anyone can understand my desire to focus on my career, it should be you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about your blog. Apparently you’ve gotten quite the following.”
“That’s just because I have insider news,” Mikey said. “You told me that SWORD is keeping a lot of the news people out of the way, and Stefano’s likely keeping the local news away from it, too.”
“I think your dad is protecting you.”
“Don’t mention him to me,” Mikey snapped, the bitterness in his voice grating into every syllable of his words.
“Come on, we have to talk about it.”
“Fine.” He scowled at me. “Then call him Dante. I don’t want to think of him as my father.”
“Too much of a Darth Vader kind of appeal?”
“That’s not funny, Dinger.”
I sighed. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Even though it didn’t really sound like it was “fine,” I went forward. “Have you talked with Dante at all since you saw him?”
“No.” Mikey shook his head. “And I’d like to keep it that way, if possible.”
“You might want to stop blogging then,” I said. “If I’m right and he’s protecting you, it could only be a matter of time before he sees you as a source.”
“I’m getting good at saying no to people about that,” Mikey assured me. “You know Patricia Rookwood, from the City News Station? She sent me an email about a book deal. She doesn’t even know I don’t read books, let alone write them.”
“Chatty Patty’s not the sharpest pencil in the box if she’s asking you to write a book with her.” I laughed. “She’s probably closer to an eraser at that point.”
Before Mikey could respond, we were interrupted by Lockard 2.0, which was my unofficial name for Ms. Carmichael, the new drama instructor for the school.
“Are you boys about done?” she asked. “We’ve finished up the run through, and I need to have the stage set for the opening scene.”
“We’re about done,” Mikey promised as he gestured to the bag of costumes and a small corner of props. “Just about two trips to the closet to go.”
“Excellent,” she said with a bright smile, before she turned on her high heels and walked away.
“She’s Gwen’s hero,” Mikey told me. “She was helping the Rosemont students last year before their school was destroyed.”
“Ms. Carmichael’s from Rosemont?” I snorted. Then I vaguely recalled seeing her last year, and I shrugged. “Oh well. I guess it’s fitting she’s in charge of a drama squad named ACHE, then.”
“What?”
“You know, ACHE. For Apollo Central High Entertainment.”
“Oh. I’d forgotten about that. That’s good to know. I can put it on my college applications then as a place I helped out.”
“You’re here for detention; same as me.”
“So what? Still counts, right?” Mikey shot me a grin. When I didn’t appreciate his liberal lawyerlike use of the phrase “helped,” he changed the subject. “Anyway, it’s a shame they haven’t been able to fix up Rosemont’s school,” Mikey said.
“If for no other reason than it would send a lot of their students back there,” I agreed.
“I don’t think you really believe that,” Mikey said. “You’d miss Raiya if she left.”
“Would not.”
“You would, too. Gwen’s in your AP class with her, and she says that you seem to like her more every time you argue.”
I huffed indignantly. “Martha’s put a stop to that this year, so Gwen doesn’t have to worry.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Gwen is worried that you like Raiya more than you like her.”
“That’s insane.”
“Is it?” Mikey shrugged. “You don’t like it when Gwen argues with you.”
“So?” I rolled my eyes. “Raiya is a terrible person, and I’m a terrible person. We match. Gwen’s too good to argue with me. I wouldn’t want to date Raiya. Especially since I have Gwen to date.”
“When was the last time you actually went on a date with Gwen?”
Recalling how busy I’d been lately, I decided it was time to change the subject. “I thought we were talking about your dad?”
“Dante,” Mikey corrected me.
We finished putting all the supplies in the closet and turned to head up the back staircase.
“Oh, sorry. Dante.”
“What about him?”
I’d forgotten what I wanted to talk about. “You know, he’s working with the mayor now.”
“So?”
“So, don’t you think we should be worried that he could be controlling the government?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t that depend more on your boss, anyway?”
“Good point. Stefano seems like a capable guy,” I said. My boss was good about making sure things were in order, and things were getting done whether people liked it or not. I couldn’t see him folding to Dante’s hand so easily or so readily, after all the work he’d gotten taken care of since he took office.
Mikey sighed. “I really don’t care. As long as I don’t see him down at Rachel’s, I don’t really care.”
I frowned. “How did you know he goes to Rachel’s?”
“Grandpa Odd’s warned me from time to time that he’s there,” Mikey admitted, somewhat sheepishly. He knew I didn’t approve much of Grandpa Odd any more than I approved of Raiya.
I recalled about what Raiya had said earlier, and wisely said nothing. I didn’t tend to care that much about old people, and irritating ones like Grandpa Odd were just more for the simple people, I guess. Simple people like Mikey. And I guess it was nice of him to help Mikey out.
Mikey seemed tired of waiting for me to respond. He continued on, saying, “You know, Dinger, no offense, but it’s your job to save the world or the city or whatever, not mine.”
“You’re reporting on it,” I objected.
“So? I’m just telling it like I see it,” Mikey insisted. “You’re the one who has to figure this stuff out. And then I’ll report it.”
“You can’t help me?” I asked.
“When have you ever needed me to help you?” Mikey asked. “I’m just your babysitter for Gwen.” He pointed up ahead. “And there she is now. Let me go and see if she needs anything.”
Mikey walked away before I could mutter, “Fine.”
As Gwen smiled and greeted Mikey, I figured he was right, as irritating as it was. I should start trying harder to do my job, but if I did, Mikey might as well be dating Gwen.
I’d slacked off a bit over the summer when it came to investigation, but it was time to once more look into everything that was bothering me.
A small sadness came upon me as I heard the peels of Gwen’s laughter, so musical in a way that no longer sung out to me. I watched Mikey talk with her enthusiastically about the opening night of the play, nearly a month away.
I was more than a little happy I’d only gotten one detention, and that I was working at the mayor’s office for the rest of the week. I could avoid dating Gwen while she was on a drama-high, and I could investigate Mayor Mills and the city government’s connections to SWORD.
☼
6 ☼
&
nbsp; More Performances
By the end of the week, I was beginning to regret trying to tackle the question of Apollo City’s role in working with SWORD.
“At least I’m getting paid for this,” I muttered under my breath, putting another file down.
There was nothing in the city records that listed anything named SWORD as a beneficiary of city grants, nothing in the city spending bills drafted over the last few weeks, and nothing from the city council regarding Dante’s “security consultation.”
Nothing.
Of course, I reasoned, maybe Stefano was waiting until the demons were completely gone, and for the trial of Wingdinger and Starry Knight—or should I say the “Flying Angels,” which is the name my mother gave to her case against them—to be over.
Either that, or I should be concerned about Stefano’s ethics.
That was silly though, I thought. Stefano was a good man. He was trying to help a lot of people. And as for SWORD . . . Well, I didn’t like them, personally, but they managed to keep the media at bay, and they cleaned up a lot of demon-caused damage. They seemed to be doing their job, anyway.
Maybe Cheryl convinced Stefano to bill him later and make me and Starry Knight pay for it.
Or maybe we were the pay.
That was a terrifying idea.
“Cheryl would do that, wouldn’t she?” I thought aloud, talking to myself.
I sighed and got up from the small closet of records. “So much for detective work being glamorous.” After nearly three hours of working, four days this past week, I had nothing to show for it.
Nothing but a sore back and a flat butt from sitting on the floor. Twelve hours of work billed to the taxpayers with no results.
“Hamilton?”
I nearly fell over from swiveling around so fast. I felt a little guilty about not actually asking to be looking at the city records, and it didn’t help that my mother had been the one to catch me walking out of the records room. (There’s something about your mother catching you that just makes you feel extra guilty.)
“Oh, hi . . . Mom.”