Slayers (18 page)

Read Slayers Online

Authors: C. J. Hill

BOOK: Slayers
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“Pretty much everyone hates me. So yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Bess blinked, surprised. “Wow, the Slayers all agree on something? How did you manage that?”
“Your dad singed half my hair off last night, and I left camp without permission this morning to get extensions put in.”
Bess waved a hand, and the resistance from the forcefield faded away.
“I guess I’ll have to break ranks with the rest of the Slayers on this one,” Bess said. “I’m just not feeling the hatred. So much for solidarity.”
Tori walked toward the Dragon Hall, and Bess fell into step beside her. “Besides, I don’t believe for an instant that Rosa hates you. She likes everybody.”
“Rosa only got here at lunch, but I’m sure everyone has filled her in on my failings.”
A hornet buzzed along the trail coming toward them. Bess lifted her hand. The bug smacked into a forcefield and fell to the ground, stunned. Another wave of Bess’s hand erased the forcefield, and the girls continued down the path. “Trust me—Rosa is too busy feeling sorry for herself right now to pay attention to anyone else. She was totally in love with Leo.”
“Oh.” Tori shouldn’t have been happy about this fact, but she suddenly saw Jesse’s attentions to Rosa in a new light. A better light. Jesse was compassionate. He was a supportive friend. How sweet.
They’d almost reached the building. Bess slowed down and lowered her voice. “And the next time you want to sneak out of camp, ask me
for help. Danielle and I used to do it all the time, and we never got caught.” She gave a small laugh. “Well, Jesse caught us once, but we bought his silence with an Oreo shake. Hollings has an ice cream shop that’s to die for.”
As quickly as the smile had come to Bess’s face, it fell away again. “I’m going to miss Danielle, too.”
Bess pulled open the door to the building and they walked inside. Shirley stood at the head of the picnic table with a basketful of garlic bread and a sheet of lasagne in front of her. She scooped out pieces and slid each onto dinner plates. “Now don’t make me come back to get these dishes,” she told them, “or you’ll be eating nothing but gruel for the rest of the week. After you finish, send someone up to the kitchen to drop them off.”
Lilly called out, “Low score gets the job,” and looked pointedly at Tori.
Great. Not only would she be beaten at every competition, she’d have to haul dishes around every day, too. She wondered what other jobs low score had to do.
Bess slid into the table. “I guess that means Rosa and I will do it. We haven’t scored at all.” Bess looked at Tori and gestured toward the bench beside her. “Come sit by me.”
Tori did, and for the first time thought she might make it through the month.
A
fter dinner, Dirk walked over to the stables to bring his horse, Montpellier, an apple. Dr. B walked up beside him, his brows drawn together in earnest intent. He had obviously sought Dirk out to talk to him about something. “Can I join you for a bit?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Dr. B inclined his head so he could better study Dirk. They had talked privately a hundred times over the years: easy, casual conversations. This time Dr. B’s gaze made him stiffen. It always took Dirk a few days to get into the rhythm of camp, and each year it was harder to step into his Slayer persona. Did Dr. B realize that about him?
“Dirk, are you all right?” Dr. B’s voice came out in its usual tranquil cadence. It was like the tick of the clock or the waves brushing against the shore. So quietly dependable.
Dirk only hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You’ve been tense since Tori arrived.”
Dirk relaxed a bit. That’s all this was about. Dr. B was about to
give the everyone-needs-to-get-along speech. He saw the Slayers as brothers and sisters with himself as their father—a father incapable of thinking badly about any of them. At that moment, Dirk wished Dr. B was his father and that they could all stay at camp forever. Dirk wanted to settle down under a canopy of bright green leaves and never leave. “A new person at camp changes everything,” Dirk said, “makes things more complicated.” Which was not even stretching the truth in the case of Tori’s arrival.
Dr. B slowed his pace. The wind rippled across the ferns by the side of the path, making the leaves shiver. “You’re worried about the alterations Tori’s arrival might mean to the teams’ structure, aren’t you?”
Dirk shrugged. It was as good an excuse as any for his tension.
Dr. B’s expression softened. “The world wants us to believe that we’re not important unless we’re in charge of things. It isn’t true, though. Whatever part we play, whatever position we have on the team, it’s valuable. Even old men with no powers, like myself, are important. You understand that?”
Dirk didn’t answer.
“Tori will not only need Jesse’s help, she’ll need your help, too, in order to find her way. You’ll help her no matter what her extra ability turns out to be?”
Dirk nodded. “Sure.”
“You won’t let your team play practical jokes on her? No stringing her clothes on the tops of the trees or freezing her belongings?”
Dirk’s lips twitched, but he suppressed his smile. “Not unless she gets on my nerves.”
“Dirk …”
Dirk held up one hand. “Okay, we’ll be good.”
Dr. B smiled, his mood lightening. “Wonderful. That will help me sleep easier.” He put his hand on Dirk’s shoulder, giving it a brief
squeeze. “You know, you can always come to me if something is bothering you. I consider you boys the sons I never had.”
“And we consider you the medieval studies professor we never had.”
Dr. B laughed, and the sound of it flowed around the trees as though it belonged to the forest. “I try not to play favorites—Bess would argue that I try too hard. She thinks I ought to throw some favoritism in her direction once in a while. But I will tell you this. You remind me of my brother—your humor and self-confidence. I want you to know that I admire you for doing what’s right.”
The compliment pinched Dirk like shoes that were too small. It didn’t fit and he couldn’t wear it. “It’s Jesse who believes in always doing the right thing.”
“I know,” Dr. B said. “You don’t entirely believe it, but here you are doing it anyway.”
Dirk half grunted to show he didn’t consider himself so admirable, but for the few minutes it took to get to the stables, he believed the compliment and glowed inside. Dr. B admired him. Dirk would do the right thing.
Later when they parted ways, Dirk only wished he hadn’t been so flippant by answering, “We consider you the medieval studies professor we never had.” He could have said, “And I consider you the father I never had.” It would have been partially true. Because his father was nothing like Dr. B.
I
t turned out Jesse was right; the welder’s helmet was a hassle. Tori had done her hair in a tight French braid before they left for the Easter grounds, tucking the end of her braid under the back of the helmet, but every time she landed from a leap, the helmet jostled on her face and she had to right it again. Plus, it cut into her peripheral vision, which meant she kept getting tackled from the side.
Finally, she said to Dr. B, “How about we make a deal. You promise not to throw any fireballs at me tonight, and I’ll take off the helmet so I can play the game right.”
Dr. B smiled, the curve of his cheeks pushing up into his infrared goggles. “Certainly.”
But Jesse, who stood nearby, took her hand as she reached for her helmet. “Don’t do it. One of the first lessons he likes to teach Slayers is that you can’t trust anyone. If you take off the helmet, you’re asking for a fireball to the face.”
Tori turned back to Dr. B, who was still smiling. “Jesse has a point,” he said. “You should never put your safety in someone else’s hands. They may not take care of it as well as you’d like.”
Tori’s mouth dropped open. “You’re our leader. You’re not supposed to lie to us.”
“You’re a Slayer. You’re supposed to take care of yourself. Which of us will suffer more for our negligence?”
She didn’t answer. You should be able to trust some people. You should at least be able to trust the people who were training you. She tugged the helmet back down onto her face and went back to the game.
Tori always chose hiding places close to the boulders. Her only hope of making it around the ring of the boulders was to do it while the A-team’s seeker chased someone else. Tori’s leaps had improved from the day before, but she couldn’t leap from branch to branch like the others.
When Lilly was the A-team’s seeker, she barreled after Tori right off. Tori tried to jump over her, but Lilly effortlessly leapt up and tackled her in midair. Tori slammed down into one of the boulders, its sharp edges stabbing into her back. She rolled limply to the ground and lay there, hoping the air would eventually return to her lungs. How long could she retain consciousness without oxygen?
The other campers didn’t even stop the game to see if she was okay. Somewhere in the forest Jesse called out, “Get up and walk it off. You’ll be fine!”
It was touching how he looked out for her like that.
Luckily, not much later, Dr. B ended the games for the night. He tallied up the score—Team Magnus was still down fifty points. Then he ended the evening by giving the Slayers a pep talk about concentrating on the task at hand, even if they were grieving for their missing teammates. “In battle, you might see one of your friends killed in front of you. You’ll have to go on, no matter how hard it is, just as you have to go on now.”
When his lecture ended and everyone moved toward the trail, Tori took off the welder’s helmet. Even though she knew her hair
hadn’t gone anywhere in the last few hours, she ran her hand over the braid, glad for its length.
Dr. B came up behind Tori. “I saw a marked improvement in your abilities tonight. You’ll give the rest of the Slayers a run for their money soon enough.”
It wasn’t heavy praise, but it did make her feel better. “Thanks,” she said, and joined Bess and Rosa heading down the trail. Before they’d gone far, Jesse’s voice came from above them. “Rosa, do you need a lift?”
Rosa smiled up at him. “Sure.” She held her arms out and Jesse flew down, picked her up around the waist, and the two of them soared upward. Tori watched them disappear into the treetops.
So, Jesse was compassionate, but only toward Rosa. If Rosa had smashed into the boulders he probably wouldn’t have told
her
to walk it off.
Tori thought about this as she kept pace alongside Bess. She knew she had no reason to resent Jesse for picking Rosa. He’d told her yesterday that he flew all the girls around. They would undoubtedly all have a turn in his arms before he thought of Tori again.
Yet it did bother her. Last night when Jesse had taken her in his arms and they’d flown lazily through the trees, the stars glowing wild and fierce above them, it had seemed so personal. But apparently it hadn’t been. She’d just been another passenger to him—well, probably not even that. She’d been a problem to solve. And he had. He’d convinced her to stay.
Jesse hadn’t even looked at her tonight when he’d scooped Rosa up. He certainly wasn’t thinking about her now, with Rosa in his arms.
Tori felt used, though she couldn’t say why. It was flying, not kissing.
Bess was talking about how it always took her a day to get the feel of everything again, but after that, using your powers was like
riding a bike—you didn’t forget. Tori nodded, but was only half listening. Mostly she was reprimanding herself for feeling things she shouldn’t.
And then a familiar whooshing sound came up behind Tori. Familiar and frightening. The sound of a fireball heading toward her.
It took her a split second to make the decision. Last time she’d tried to jump away from the danger. It hadn’t worked, so this time she dived for the ground. As she fell, a searing ball slammed into the back of her shoulder. The fire took hold of the material on her jacket; animallike, clinging to her, ready to sink its teeth into her flesh. Almost before she could process what happened, she rolled onto her back, smothering the flames so they couldn’t spread. She waited for the pain. She could feel the heat of the scalding material against her skin. But the throbbing sting didn’t come. She vaguely remembered hearing that if burned badly enough, a person didn’t feel the pain because their nerve endings were destroyed. It must be bad then.
She sat up and ripped her jacket off. It now had a hole in the back, and when she twisted her head to see her shoulder, she saw a matching hole in her shirt. Melted pieces of fabric stuck to her skin, along with dirt and dried leaves. But there wasn’t a wound. Only a red, irritated patch.
“Alyssa!” Dr. B called running up to Tori with the flame gun still in his hand, “Hurry!”
Tori gingerly ran her hand across her shoulder. It should have been oozing and bloody. She should be writhing in pain. Thank goodness her skin had extra strength now. Still, she glared at Dr. B as he knelt beside her. “Why did you do that?” she demanded. “The games were over.”
“The games are never over. Not here, and not when you’re at home.” Dr. B bent down to examine her shoulder. “Now you’ve learned two things tonight. Don’t trust others with your safety, and always be
prepared for an attack.” He examined her shoulder, gently moving the hole in the shirt to find the wound.
Alyssa trotted over and dropped to her knees beside Tori. “How bad is it?”
“Amazing,” Dr. B said, and moved away for Alyssa to see.
Alyssa ran her fingers across Tori’s skin. “How did you manage not to get burned? Your shirt’s destroyed.”
“Slayers have extra strong skin,” Tori said, but her gaze bounced between Alyssa and Dr. B, trying to figure out their surprise.
Alyssa examined the ruined edges of Tori’s shirt. “Not this strong. You should at least have a huge blister.”
She’d been lucky somehow, then—probably because she’d dropped to the ground and rolled right away. The thought didn’t bring her a lot of comfort. Tomorrow she might not be so lucky. Tori stood up and wiped the dirt from her hands. The cold night air brushed up against her bare shoulder, making her shiver.
Alyssa and Dr. B stood up, as well. “Is your shirt flame retardant?” he asked.
“It’s Versace. I don’t think those come in flame retardant.”
By this time Lilly, Shang, and Kody had joined them. “Perhaps your skin is more resistant to fire than the other Slayers,” Dr. B said. “The only way to tell for sure—”
“No,” Tori said. “You’re not burning me again to experiment.”
“—is to wait until the next time you’re caught unaware by the flamethrower.” Dr. B pulled out the clipboard where he kept the team tallies. “Which reminds me, minus ten points to Team Magnus, because I caught Tori in a surprise attack.”
It wasn’t fair, and Tori hated the smug look that Lilly sent to Alyssa.
Her eyes narrowed at Dr. B. He had told her that she’d learned two things tonight. Actually, she’d learned three. She’d learned that her
camp director was a sneaky, sadistic—well, she was too well-mannered to say it all out loud. She couldn’t even complain to Bess about it. Dr. B was her father. Without another word, Tori picked up her jacket, tied it around her waist, and jogged down the trail.
When she reached cabin 27, Rosa and Jesse were sitting on the porch steps, talking in low voices. Rosa’s eyes were red and swollen, a sign she’d been crying again. Tori felt guilty then for ever being angry that Jesse had flown with Rosa. She obviously needed the comfort. Tori walked past them, loosening her jacket and contemplating how many more pieces of clothing would be torched before the month was over. When she reached the door, Jesse asked, “What happened to your shirt?”
She waved her scrunched jacket in the direction of the trail. “After the games ended, Dr. B launched a fireball at my back.”
Jesse let out an aggravated breath. “How many points did it cost the team?” he asked.
Tori let her jacket drop and grabbed hold of the doorknob. Jesse hadn’t been worried about her—only the team’s tally. “I don’t care about the stupid points.”
“You’ll care when we have to clean the bathrooms and the stables.”
She wondered, but didn’t ask, how many points it would cost her if she hurled objects at her team captain. Instead, she walked inside and slammed the door behind her. She snatched up her pajamas, towel, and caddy.
As she did, she heard Rosa softly say, “You’re being too hard on her. You don’t have to be a team captain all of the time. Sometimes you can just be a friend.”
Jesse lowered his voice. He probably thought Tori couldn’t hear him. “We can’t baby her. If anything, we need to be harder on her than Dr. B is. She has one summer to learn things that took us years to learn.”
“Jesse …” Rosa laced the word with meaning.
“This isn’t a game she can quit when she doesn’t like the rules,” Jesse said. “If she’s not prepared she’ll get hurt, maybe killed.” His voice dropped even lower. “I don’t want that.”
That made two of them. Tori pushed open the door and pounded down the stairs without speaking to Jesse or Rosa.

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