Jennifer Scales and the Messenger of Light Read online

  Jennifer looked at Skip, who appeared ready to swallow his own tongue. “Skip’s told you we’re friends, then?”

  “But of course!” Withdrawing from the hug, Tavia bared her teeth in an oversized smile. “He talks about you all the time. I keep telling him we must have you over for dinner some evening, but he never follows up!” Now her voice sunk to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think he’s afraid you’ll say no if he asks you out.”

  “Yeah. Huh. I’d, er, love to come over sometime. So, um, my being friends with your nephew doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why should it?” Tavia made the very idea sound like the most preposterous notion anyone had ever offered. “I’ll tell you what. Later this week, I’ll give you a call. We’ll try to set a dinner date for next week, or the week after?”

  There was no chance to respond, because Jonathan walked up. Next to him were two people—an elderly man and a teenaged boy. Not just any boy—the new angel face from her geometry class!

  For the second time today, Jennifer found herself staring at him. He stared right back.

  “Everything all right here?” Jonathan asked tentatively.

  “Of course!” Tavia clapped her hands. “You’re Jonathan Scales, right? I’m Tavia Saltin, Skip’s aunt…”

  “Nice to meet you. This is Martin Stowe.” He bowed to the elderly man, who looked at least seventy. Martin’s shoulders were hunched and his frail hands held a white cane. “He and his grandson are new in town. He has severe glaucoma and will likely use our new center’s services. His grandson, Gerry, goes to Winoka High. Maybe you’ve met him, ace?”

  Jennifer couldn’t quite speak. Those crystal blue eyes! That fluffy blond hair! So beautiful!

  She felt Skip’s elbow dig into her side. “Well, Mr. Scales, you know, Jennifer and I have actually been spending a lot of time together. You know, talking about the Halloween dance and all. I’m not sure she’d notice…”

  “I’ve seen him,” she blurted out. Skip’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Geometry class, right? I’m Jennifer.”

  There were handshakes all around. Martin Stowe held his hand out and turned his blind eyes slightly as different hands shook it. Jennifer was fairly certain she was going to faint, what with beautiful Gerry and irritated Skip and spindly Aunt Tavia and blind Martin and everything else coming together all at once.

  In a bit of small talk for which Jennifer, Skip, and Gerry just sort of looked at their shoes, each other, and each other’s shoes, Martin revealed that they had just moved to Winoka two weeks ago, a few months after Gerry’s parents died in a horrible accident abroad. Austria, or Switzerland, or maybe Hungary—Jennifer forgot the place quickly. What was the difference? And was that too mean a thought to even think? After all, Gerry was an orphan, and—

  “Well, I hear them serving desserts now,” Martin said, breaking her concentration. He was right: The servers were setting down new china. “Better get back to our seats.”

  The Stowes said their good-byes, and so did the Scales. Tavia hugged Jennifer again before she would let either of them leave. As they walked back, her father whispered.

  “His aunt Tavia, eh? Does she know who we are?”

  “I have no idea,” she murmured back.

  It didn’t seem right to bring it up with Skip the next day—after all, talking to him about it might raise more questions in his head. All he and his aunt knew was that Otto had kidnapped Jennifer and Jonathan, knocked Skip unconscious, and then died at the hands of an unknown rescuer. They were grateful the Scales had thought to rescue Skip as well. Why rock the boat?

  He didn’t seem to want to talk about it either. But that might have had to do more with Gerry, who by scheduling coincidence was in at least three of Jennifer and Susan’s classes, to their mutual delight, while Skip was only in Jennifer’s history class.

  So the week went on in fairly boring fashion. Skip was incredibly attentive and spoke of nothing but going to the Halloween dance, Susan was continually plotting how to run into Gerry, Eddie was barely a ghost they saw in the hallways from time to time, and Bob Jarkmand still glared at Jennifer from across hallway crowds like a distant, horrifying lighthouse.

  Jennifer was ducking away from the enormous boy’s gaze one afternoon when she almost walked straight into Gerry.

  “Whoa!” She almost dropped her backpack. “Um, hey, Gerry.”

  The boy stared back at her, but said nothing.

  “Sorry I almost ran into you.” An idea struck her—this was an opportunity to help her friend! “Hey, er, you haven’t seen Susan around lately, have you? She was talking about you earlier.”

  Despite her meaningful wink, she got no reaction at all. Gerry Stowe appeared frozen in midair.

  She waved her hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

  That made him blink, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he looked her up and down, wiped the sweat off of his forehead, and bolted in the other direction.

  Hmm. She watched him run. Should I be flattered or insulted?

  “Jennifer!” It was Eddie’s voice behind her.

  Or warned.

  She walked as quickly as she could away from the voice, in the same direction Gerry had taken. Eddie called after her a couple more times, but the voice got more distant and she soon could breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Hey, gorgeous! Whatcha up to?” Skip’s voice made her jump.

  “Oh! Hey, Skip.” She looked around, distracted. “Yeah, I was just looking for Gerry. Did he come this way?”

  His easygoing expression shifted into anxious irritation. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay much attention to him.”

  Sensing his jealousy, she offered a soft smile. “Oh, Skip. Really. I just wanted to talk to him and find out if maybe he’d be interested in asking Susan to the dance.”

  “Susan, eh?” He surveyed the hallway as if expecting the brunette to leap out of a locker. “She could probably do better.”

  Jennifer decided to change the subject. “Are you going to take me somewhere for my birthday?”

  This worked beautifully and he stammered defensively. “Your b-birthday! Oh yeah, that’s, er, coming up, isn’t it?”

  She pretended to be irritated that he couldn’t place the date. “September eighteenth, Skip. Next Thursday. You remember, don’t you?”

  “Of course! Um, well, I thought we might go to the mall…”

  “Winoka Mall?” She wrinkled her nose. “We go there two or three times a week already.”

  “No, no! Um, the Mall of America!” This was at least an effort, Jennifer had to admit. The Mall of America was a commercial landmark in Minnesota, complete with four massive anchor stores, hundreds of stores in between them, and a full-scale amusement park in the middle of it all.

  But she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook yet. “How will we get there?”

  “My aunt can drive.”

  The expression on her face must have been vivid, because he hurried to add, “She’ll drop us off! It’ll just be the two—”

  “Jennifer!”

  “Ugh.” She flinched at the interruption. Eddie had apparently not given up as easily as she had hoped. He was jogging down the hallway toward them, gracefully sliding between other students’ bodies and backpacks.

  “Jennifer, I’ve got to talk to—”

  Skip’s hand stopped Eddie short. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  The other boy’s sparrowlike features tried to maneuver around the hand to get a glimpse of Jennifer. “Skip, back off! This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “She’s not interested. So you either walk away, or deal with me.”

  Eddie stopped moving and growled at the other boy. “What’s your problem, Wilson? You want to fight?”

  Jennifer took a deep breath. “Ah, the pungent scent of testosterone…”

  Both of them gave her a look, but Skip’s dissolved into a smirk quickly enough. He turned his back on Eddie and put his hand on her shoulder. “All right, Scal
es. You made your point. Let’s just get out of—”

  He lurched forward as Eddie shoved him in the back.

  “I was talking to you, Wilson! I said, do you want to fight?”

  Jennifer bit her lip. Skip knew Eddie and his family were beaststalkers, because Jennifer had told him weeks ago. But she was pretty sure Eddie had no idea about Skip or his family—or what Skip would become someday.

  So why the hostility?

  Skip turned with a hiss and straightened up. He was a full two or three inches taller than Eddie, though both of them were wiry enough that height didn’t make a whole lot of difference. But there was something in Skip’s stance—the way he positioned himself to spring upon the other boy, like predator upon prey—that made Jennifer shudder.

  “Please, Skip.” She touched his elbow lightly. “Let’s just go. He’s not worth it.”

  Slowly and reluctantly, Skip took two steps back. When his opponent didn’t move, he allowed himself to turn around again and put his hand in hers. “Okay.”

  “Jennifer, you’d better listen to me!” Eddie didn’t seem to be following, but she didn’t turn around as they walked away. “You’ll be sorry if you don’t!”

  Without looking back or slowing down, Skip called out, “If you threaten her again, Blacktooth, I’ll flatten you.”

  They nearly ran into Principal Mouton as he came out of his office to see what was going on. The principal was a good enough man who had acted a bit pompously in Jennifer’s only run-in with him: When her family had to get her off the hook for fighting Bob Jarkmand last year.

  He squinted at Jennifer and Skip, and then down the hall at Eddie. “Am I hearing a problem out here, gentlemen?”

  “No problem, sir,” Skip said with a bit of edge. Eddie didn’t answer at all. Instead, he turned and walked away.

  Seeing the problem resolve itself, Mr. Mouton gave Jennifer a wry hint of a smile. “Ms. Scales, you’ll help me keep these two under control, I hope?”

  She chewed her tongue thoughtfully. “I think I can manage it.”

  As it turned out, Skip was horrifically sick on her fifteenth birthday, so their plans to go to the Mall of America fell through. Instead, Jennifer had Susan come over, and they hung out in her room.

  “It’s a school night anyway,” Susan sympathized as she fiddled with the small portable stereo on Jennifer’s nightstand. “Ugh, this radio station sucks. Let’s try…no…how about…geez, I’m so sick of this song!”

  “Yeah, me, too. Like, back in August.”

  Susan left it on for a while anyway. It was a catchy song, by their favorite artist. But they had grooved to it all summer long.

  “Okay, that’s enough! Just flip it to disc; I’ve got a good mix in there. I guess you’re right about the mall—it’ll be better to do on a weekend.”

  “Of course, your family goes up to your grandpa’s cabin an awful lot of weekends,” Susan pointed out, flipping the stereo switch. “You sure you’ll be able to make the time for him?” There was a bit of regret in her voice, and Jennifer wasn’t entirely certain they were talking about Skip anymore.

  “We are up at the cabin a lot,” she admitted. Her mother preferred to do beaststalker training up there—partly for privacy, Jennifer guessed; and partly because she imagined it bothered her grandfather a great deal. Of course, she couldn’t explain this to Susan yet, much less invite her along.

  Why not?

  Susan interrupted her reverie with a glance out the window. “Oooh, pretty moon! Check it out, Jennifer—”

  It was a full moon—dusty red, large, and low on the horizon. Looking at the mysterious orb made Jennifer think of Skip again. She hadn’t considered it before, but she supposed if she had been looking at a crescent moon instead of a full one, she’d be wondering right now if Skip wasn’t sick at all—just very, very different. In the throes of his first change. Change into…what, exactly?

  Would he look like his father?

  She brushed the thought away. “So anyway, is your geometry textbook in your backpack?”

  Susan gagged. “You wanna do geometry homework on your birthday night? Cripes, Jennifer. Didn’t your parents plan anything for you? It’s not like them to forget.”

  “They didn’t forget. We celebrated up at the cabin a while ago, with cake and everything.”

  “Huh. What’d they get you?”

  Jennifer chewed her tongue again. This is so unfair. “Just, you know. Stuff. They’re kinda clueless.”

  “Well, I got you something cool.” Susan rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a small turquoise gift bag, puffed up with pink and green tissue paper.

  “Hey, thanks! But you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Oh, right. After nine consecutive birthday presents from you, I’m going to blow your fifteenth birthday off!”

  “I hope you didn’t get me anything too expensive,” Jennifer mused. She had gotten Susan a lovely coral necklace for her fifteenth birthday two months ago. It had looked more pricey than it actually was.

  “Just open it and see!”

  She reached into the tissue and pulled out…a folded piece of paper, which got Susan bouncing up and down with excitement. Jennifer unfolded it and immediately saw the words MINNESOTA DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC SAFETY at the top. Susan’s own name was filled in.

  “For my birthday you got me…your learner’s permit?”

  “Isn’t it cool???” Susan couldn’t contain herself anymore. “I can drive now! My dad or another adult has to be in the passenger seat, but I can drive I can drive I can drive!”

  “Huh. Well, that’s great!” Jennifer struggled not to betray any disappointment as she handed the permit back to her friend. “I’m really happy for you.”

  Susan looked at her for a second and then burst out laughing. “Oh come on, Jennifer! I’m not that self-involved! I just did that to mess with you. Your present’s still in the bag.”

  Jennifer exhaled heavily. “Good. Because I was going to have to kill you.”

  She reached in again and quickly found a hard surface with her fingers. Some sort of stone. Of course…the bag was a little too heavy to hold just paper. How could she have fallen for her friend’s joke?

  Pulling out the object, she whistled in appreciation.

  It was a miniature stone carving—pink marble, Jennifer guessed. The shape was a small dragon standing on its hind legs, with its wings folded tightly against its body and head bowed low. The detail was just intricate enough to make out a thoughtful pair of eyes, and a hint of a smile.

  “Oh, Susan. It’s gorgeous! Where’d you get it?”

  “Actually, um, I did it. My father does sculpture as a hobby, and he’s been teaching me.”

  Jennifer almost dropped it in surprise and then looked it over again, admiring every detail. “You? This is amazing! Susan, you’re so good!”

  Her friend blushed and looked at the carpet. “I know I haven’t said much about—you know, what you are. Since last spring. But I thought I ought to say—you know. I think it’s cool. And I hope someday, you’ll feel comfortable showing me.”

  “Oh!” It occurred to Jennifer her friend had never seen her as a dragon. Simultaneously, it occurred to her she wasn’t ready for that yet. “Yeah. Someday soon.” She winced. “Not tonight though, okay?”

  “No problem. So, you like it?”

  “I love it! Susan, it’s so thoughtful! Thank you! I’ll put it here for now—” She put it on the dresser next to Geddy’s tank. “—but later, I’ll ask my parents if I can put it downstairs in the living room. It’s so classy!”

  Sporting a huge grin, Susan reached into her backpack again. “I’m glad you like it. And to make your evening perfect, I did bring my geometry text with me! So we can study the volume of a sphere to your heart’s content. Happy birthday, math geek!”

  The textbook’s explanations of the volume of a sphere certainly made more sense than her mother’s description of how a beaststalker’s battle cry
worked.

  “The battle cry is on an impossible frequency,” Elizabeth explained at Crawford’s lakeside farm the following Friday, while Jonathan prepared dinner inside. “Like an enchanted radio that only magical beasts can hear. Others may hear a simple shout, and see a bright light, but it doesn’t hurt them like it would hurt a morphed werachnid or weredragon, or any other magical creature.”

  Jennifer adjusted her leather armor with an uncomfortable wince. “Hold on, I’m still stuck on that enchanted radio thing. What do you mean, impossible frequency? If we can do it, it’s possible, right?”

  “Yes, and no. Think of a number.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “Multiply it by itself.”

  “Right.”

  “Did you get negative one?”

  “Of course not. I’m at, like, forty-nine.”

  “Well, I got negative one, because I was using imaginary numbers. Imaginary numbers are technically impossible; but they still exist, even if it’s just in our heads. So beaststalkers have learned to use frequencies that radios and satellites can’t possibly find to affect the mystical world.”

  “So let me get this straight. If I get some answers wrong on a math test, can I go back to Mr. Slider and just say I was using imaginary numbers?”

  “Try to focus, honey.”

  “Sorry. So how do I make light or sound on these impossible frequencies?”

  “The key is using your blade—or blades, in your case. A beaststalker’s kiss makes the metal resonate, and essentially turns the weapon into a sort of microphone. You shout, and it splits your voice into two parts—deafening sound and blinding light. Both are painful to magical beasts. Observe.”

  “Wait!” Jennifer scooped Geddy, who had been blithely swinging from her hair, off of her neck and ran across the yard and up the porch steps. She popped open the cabin door, flung him inside (carefully, so he landed on the couch), and then scooted back down the stairs.

  “That wasn’t necessary.” Her mother sighed. “Remember in Otto’s dungeon, when I used the battle shout to chase Otto off? Geddy reacted like a typical animal then; he took the trauma just fine.”