“I’m so tired of this,” she says.
“I’ll fall backward when you cast that spell. Lower the lighter.”
She doesn’t. I lean backward.
“If you loosen my rules, I’ll be less likely to try it again. I’ll probably be satisfied with the slack you’ve given me. And I won’t jump right now. I’ll let you erase my memory.”
The lighter drops an inch or two.
“Loosen the rules?”
The rhythm of my heart changes from desperate to hopeful. I’m going to win this. I can feel it. Mom’s going to give some.
How do I make it count?
“A concert.”
She almost laughs. “A concert?”
“A concert.” That was what Bobby said I needed. Then Nick Savage would come to me, teach me how to harvest the powers created by the crowd. “Let me have a concert. That will get me nominated for the award. That’s what I want. A concert, so I can win that award. That will satisfy me.”
She laughs. It’s uncertain. But it isn’t a denial.
“I’ll let you erase my memory if you promise you’ll let me hold a concert.”
“You know, if I make you this promise and erase your memory, you’ll have no idea if I ever keep it or not. You won’t remember the promise.”
“Great, Mom. Thanks for the reassurance.”
“It’s just a fact.”
True, but I’m no dummy. I can deal with her threat. Just play on her conscience—which she’s already struggling with.
“I trust you. If you promise me, I won’t jump, and I’ll trust that you’ll do it. And I’ll let you erase my memory without a fight.”
Five seconds pass. Ten. The red brink hanging in the air churns and sparkles. Her lips purse. Her eyes narrow.
She nods. “Okay. A concert. I promise you I’ll let you have a concert.”
My heart leaps. I’m so excited I almost slip off the cliff.
Victory!
“Come here,” she says, and motions me toward her.
I start toward her, but something occurs to me. “This year. Promise me a concert this year. Before the awards show. In front of a big, live crowd. So I can win that award.”
She nods. “Yes, yes. A concert this year. In front of a big, live crowd. Before the awards. Now, get back off that cliff.”
Satisfied, elated, I step toward her, unable to stop grinning.
A concert! I’m finally going to get to hold a concert! I’m going to lose my memory, and forget that I ever met Bobby Fretboard, but maybe something more will happen. Maybe Nick Savage will find a way to meet me, and re-teach me everything about magic.
Victory. I’ve achieved a startling victory in my quest for freedom.
I run one hand along the rough, cold stone as I walk up the alley, toward her and the spell. When I’m just a few feet away, she raises her lighter to her spell. It ignites.
“Mom, what the—“
I can’t dodge it. There’s no space. The white light shoots from the spell toward me, hitting me in the chest.
* * * *
Chapter 14: Promises, promises
The fact that Richie trusted me proves he’s too naïve for the world of brink.
-Elizabeth Van Bender
My body becomes unresponsive. I can no longer control my arms or legs. I can feel them, but they just won’t do what I want them to. I fall backward. The iPad slips out of my hand and hits the ground.
But Mom catches me. She eases my fall and turns me over so I’m looking into a ribbon of sky. I can move my eyes, and there’s so much I want to say, but I can’t. My mouth won’t move.
Mom has betrayed me. My sense of victory vanishes. Now I’m just enraged.
She lays me on the ground.
“Sorry about that,” she says. “This is the best way to do this. Don’t worry, I’m going to keep my promise to you. But this is how I need to erase your memory.”
I’m not reassured. I want to tell her she’d better keep her promise, or I’ll make her life a living hell.
“Don’t worry. I made the spell so it won’t last long. You’ll be able to move again in a minute.”
She stands over me, and begins to craft another spell, a circle inside a square. She talks as she draws. The red light in the relative darkness gives everything a crimson hue.
Questions. So many questions. But I can only lay there like a dead slug.
She finishes drawing her spell and extends a line from the square down toward me. She trails brink around my face and the top of my head. Once. Twice. She shakes her head again.
“Richie, you’re not ready for this. Someday, yes. Not now.”
Her words aren’t accusatory. They’re not angry. They’re just tired, frustrated, and disappointed. For pity’s sake, she’s done this five freaking times!
“I promise you. You can have a concert.”
Still kneeling over me, she raises her lighter to the circle and square. Despite her concentration, her face is also sad as she looks at me and nods.
How much of my memory is she going to erase? Is she really going to let me have a concert?
She lights the spell. The circle and square ignite, and red flames race from along them up the line that surrounds my head. She shoves the lighter into her pocket and gives me a stern look.
The spell finishes. It changes from red fire to a brilliant crimson light.
She strokes my hair and gives me a sad smile.
“Forget the last ten minutes.”
* * * *
Chapter 15: Paralyzed
What a disappointment. We work so hard to help Richie, but his mom catches him, anyway. I swear, it’s likes she has magical, trouble-detecting powers.
-Kurt Strand
I start as if waking from a nightmare, and find myself laying on the ground in a narrow alley between two fins, Mom kneeling above me. Ashes float around her and me.
I can’t move. I can feel my arms and my legs and my body, but none of them respond. Fear engulfs me. I’m paralyzed. Last thing I remember is running through the Fiery Furnace, looking for Bobby, thinking I was almost there.
But instead I’ve fallen and broken my back, or something. I can’t even turn my head.
I try to speak—but words don’t come. My lips don’t move.
“Richie!” Mom says, her face worried. “Richie! Thank heavens you’re awake!”
I try to move my arms and legs and tell her I can’t do either, but my mouth refuses.
“You’ve fallen,” she says. “You blacked out. Are you okay?”
Of course I’m not okay! I can’t move and I can’t talk! About the only movement my body will produce is a thundering heart.
I try one more time, willing my body to respond.
And it does. My arms and legs and body come back at once, as if something had been turned off, and the switch got flipped. I leap upward, almost ramming into her.
She jumps back and away, crying out.
My heart pounds as I get to my feet. I’m so relieved to be moving again that I don’t care when Mom rushes forward and embraces me.
“You disappeared!” she said. “You were gone, and we split up to find you, and I found you unconscious, not moving!”
She’s crying as she presses her face into my neck. I’m so shocked and relieved that I hug her. The air around us is cool, damp, and dark. The alley is narrow enough that half a step to either side would place me against the stone.
I don’t remember getting here.
With the initial bout of relief subsiding, worry and doubt consume me. Bobby is still out there, somewhere. Waiting for me. I’ve blown my chance.
Mom’s body stops shaking, and she pulls away from me.
“What is that?” she asks.
She steps aside, bends over something I can’t see until she straightens. My stomach twists into knots.
The iPad.
“Richie David Van Bender,” she says. “What do you think you’re doing?”
&n
bsp; I look around, trying to stammer a response. Everything seems off. The last thing I remember is running through the Fiery Furnace, looking for Bobby. I was almost to him—almost to the purple pin on the iPad app.
“Running off,” Mom says. Despite the tears, her face is twisting from worried to angry. “And, with an iPad.”
She runs a hand over it. Cracks cover the dark screen like a spider web. I can’t remember dropping it.
She stops crying, completing the transformation from concerned to enraged. All hints of worry and fear leave her voice.
“You are in such deep trouble.”
* * * *
Chapter 16: Life changes
Richie didn’t seem right after that. It was like part of his head was missing.
-Sandra Montoya
When we get back to Malibu, Mom grounds me from Kurt and Sandra for a month. She searches my room for more contraband. Finds nothing, because there’s nothing hidden.
Things simmer for a week. Mom hardly speaks to me, and gives me long, ponderous looks when she thinks I don’t notice. She seems on the verge of saying things all the time, but almost never does.
I feel like crap. Not only because I got caught, but because I’ve so clearly upset Mom far worse than with any other stunt I’ve pulled.
I really miss the iPad. Who knows what Mom did with it. Probably put in a blender, or something.
I miss chatting with Kurt and Sandra late into the night, and kind of miss Marti Walker’s status updates.
One night as I’m in my room, playing my guitar with headphones on, she comes in without knocking and stands just inside the doorway, arms folded. I play on, ignoring her until she speaks. I can’t hear her through the music on the headphones, but stop playing and raise my eyebrows at her.
“I’ve made a decision,” she says.
This can’t be good. I just look at her. A million terrible things flash through my mind.
She licks her lips, looks to the ceiling, and shakes her head. Her mouth opens, closes. Opens, closes. She sighs.
“Any day, Mom.”
“I’m going to let you have a concert.”
“Funny, Mom.” Why would she even joke about that? It’s just cruel.
“I’ve decided the reason you pull stunts like with the iPad and trying to meet Bobby Fretboard is because I’m too restrictive. So, I’m going to give you some slack. I’m going to let you hold a concert.”
She’s serious. I nearly drop the guitar. My heart wants to burst through my chest.
“But I get to plan every detail of the concert, to make sure you’re safe. I get to decide the place, the size of the crowd, your opening act, the special effects, and any other special rules associated with the concert.”
“Uh, okay.” Something isn’t right about this. If she wants to punish me, why is she letting me hold a concert? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe I don’t care. Because—finally—a freaking concert!
“I’m expecting you to be on your best behavior. No funny business.”
I nod. My fingers tremble, itching to get back on the guitar, to start practicing for the concert. I want to jump up and down and scream for joy. I want to hug Mom. I want to get on Facebook and tell the world that Skinny McFarter is really Richie freaking Van Bender, and he’s going to finally hold a concert!
Maybe I’m dreaming.
She looks at me for another ten seconds as if deciding to say anything else, or as if expecting something.
“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you so, so, so, soooooo much.”
Her face softens and she shakes her head. “I just want you to be happy. And safe. Happy and safe. That’s all.”
Within a few weeks, Mom has major details for the concert organized, and announces it. When my grounding is over, Kurt and Sandra tell me about the near hysteria that has gripped the world of rock. I’m positively giddy.
My enthusiasm only increases when, a week later, the media announces nominees for the Best Young Entertainer of the Year. Marti Walker. F-Nasty. Some kid opera singer.
And me.
And like a cherry on top of everything else, I’m invited to perform a song at the awards ceremony. Mom agrees to it.
I eat two plates of nachos to celebrate.
Life is so dang good I can hardly contain myself.
Every second Kurt and Sandra are around, Mom is on us like a rat on a Cheeto, but in a colossal blunder, she turns her back and Sandra slips me a note. In it, she says that Bobby hasn’t contacted her, but someone else has without disclosing their identity. They want to meet me before my concert.
For fun, we designate them as the Celebrity of Mysterious Intentions.
And once again. I’m on my road to rebellion.
THE END
Find out what happens at Richie’s concert, and learn more about the magical world of brink, in Van Bender and the Burning Emblems, Book 1 of the Van Bender Trilogy. Available now.
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