The Marked Girl (14 page)

“There was a fire, when I was six,” Liv said, tentative. “Both of my parents died. I had a brother and a sister, too, but we were split up. No foster family wanted to take all of us. I've been on my own since then.”

This time Cedric did reach out and take her hand. His skin felt warm in the cool night air. He wrapped his fingers around hers and held them there.

“I truly am sorry,” he said.

“It was a long time ago,” Liv said, breathing in deep. The lump in her throat was almost gone now. “Besides, I just lost my family. You lost your whole world.”

Cedric looked down at their hands, pressed together in the darkness. “Seems like the same thing to me.”

They didn't talk for a while after that, but sat in stillness, watching the few stars that were visible in the sky and listening to each other breathe. Liv didn't remember closing her eyes, but the next thing she knew, she was waking up and looking around at the backyard, which was full of light.

She looked down at her hand, but Cedric was no longer holding it. His own hand had fallen down and was dangling against the edge of his lawn chair. It was close enough to reach out and grab, and yet felt very far away. After staring at it for a moment, she curled up in her chair in the sunshine, feeling a small ache in her chest she couldn't begin to explain.

L
ater that morning, Liv's biggest hurdle was trying to convince Cedric not to bring a sword on the LA city bus. He'd insisted on going with her to pick up her car, just in case there were any wraths still in the area. He also insisted on being “prepared.”

“We can't just get on a bus holding a deadly blade the size of a baseball bat,” Liv argued.

“It is a sword.”

“I know that, I just—” Liv took a deep breath to start again. “I'm trying to explain how insane you'll look.”

“It isn't insane to be ready for our enemies.”

“Okay, sure. But how do I tell that to the kindly bus driver who thinks you might chop his head off?”

“I doubt this blade is sharp enough to chop anyone's head off.”

“Now you're just
intentionally
missing my point.”

Cedric grinned. Eventually, he'd agreed to wrap a large trash bag around the weapon to hide it. He still looked like a crazy person, but one who would at least cause less panic.

Cedric had hoped to retrieve his few belongings and remaining food from the museum while Liv got her car. When they got to the alley, however, they saw the way was blocked off by a police cruiser and a line of bright yellow crime scene tape.

“They won't be there forever,” Liv told Cedric as he narrowed his eyes in the direction of the alleyway. He sighed heavily and got into her car.

From the museum, Liv made a trip to the ATM, bought some water and blankets for the house, and dodged more of Joe's calls. Running errands helped clear her head a bit, and made her feel useful again. Whenever she wondered whether it was a good idea to help out Cedric and his friends—and maybe put herself in danger in the process—she just remembered the alternative plan. Call Joe, get placed in a new home, start from scratch following another stranger's rules and eating another stranger's food. Staying at the Echo Park house seemed like a pretty good idea by comparison. At least there she'd be making her own decisions, even if those decisions involved arguing with a cute otherworldy prince about the safest way to hold a sword in a moving car.

Plus, she didn't like the thought of abandoning them now.

On the way back to the house, Liv drove through the In-N-Out drive-through. By midafternoon, she and the others sat sprawled out across the living room, surrounded by red-and-white discarded burger wrappers and soda cups. Liv had changed into fresh jeans, a tank top, and a light jacket, and had lent a T-shirt to Kat as well. The boys still had to wear their clothes from the day before.

“We should go back to the museum tonight to retrieve our belongings,” Kat said. She was studying the plastic top to her soda cup, pulling the straw in and out. “It will be easier under cover of darkness.”

Cedric nodded, but his mouth was too full of burger to respond.

Liv had her laptop open, and in between bites of fries was working to connect to a neighbor's unprotected Wi-Fi system. Finally one hit.

“Bingo.”

She pulled up a search box and typed in
Caelum
and
scrolls
. She could feel Merek over her shoulder, looking intently at the screen.

“It's magic, then?” he asked as the screen popped up with search results.

“No,” Liv said, her eyes on the screen. “It's Wi-Fi.”

“What is the difference?”

“Um,” Liv tilted her head. “Electrons? Shh, I'm concentrating.”

The first few links to come up on the page were obvious misfires; one was for a popular fantasy video game, and one was a fan page for an actor named Tyler Callum, whose name was misspelled on at least three occasions throughout the site. Cedric came to sit on her other side, and their shoulders touched. The heat from his arm radiated out to hers.

It was a bit distracting.

Liv tried to keep her arm that was next to Cedric's still as she scrolled down the list of links. She was afraid that by moving it
or calling attention to it in any way, Cedric might move a few inches away and take the warmth with him.

Eventually, she came to one from the University of California, San Diego. It was a link to a professor's biography page, but the word
Caelum
was featured in its two-sentence description.

On the page, the professor's name, Leonard Billings, PhD, was in bold type next to a picture of an older man with dark skin, a big smile, and a scraggly white beard.

Professor Billings taught a class in ancient cultures and myths, from the Greeks to the Celtic Druids. Liv continued to scroll down through a list of the required reading materials for students. At the very bottom of the page was a blurb with the professor's own qualifications, including the title of a dissertation he had written: “Origins of the Knights of Valere and the Search for Caelum's Scrolls.”

“What are the Knights of Valere?” Liv asked.

“It does not sound familiar.” Cedric shrugged, and the movement of his arm against Liv's raised goosebumps on her skin. She hoped he didn't notice.

She hoped Kat didn't notice, either.

“Do you have knights in Caelum?”

“Yes,” Cedric replied, matter-of-fact. “But Valere? Never heard of them.”

Liv went back to Google's main page, and typed the professor's name into the search box, along with the word
Caelum
. Only one more site came up, and it contained an abstract from the professor's dissertation. Liv read:

The ultimate representation of this ancient belief system exists in the legend of “Caelum,” a fantastical realm that is connected to our own, but that cannot be accessed without a key, represented in this instance by a series of secret or hidden scrolls. Much like the Nordic myths of the mystical land of Asgard, Caelum is a concept brought into being by ancient pagans and perpetuated into the Early Middle Ages. . . .

There the text cut off. The site went on to explain that the actual dissertation was available for purchase in hard copy from the UC San Diego bookstore.

“It doesn't say much,” Liv murmured. She clicked back to the main search screen but couldn't find anything else helpful. She tried typing in
Knights of Valere
, but kept getting linked to websites authored by conspiracy nuts, with pages that featured white text on a black screen and that focused on alien abductions and robots in the White House.

“This professor seems to be the best lead,” she said.

“We should find him,” Cedric said.

“Well . . . San Diego isn't that far away. Just a couple of hours. Maybe I could drive you in the morning?”

Cedric's hand gripped the sword that lay by his side. “We have several more hours of sunlight left. Let us go now.”

Liv sighed. “I guess now works, too. But we're leaving all swords behind. This isn't a wrath we're facing, it's a college professor. And I don't want to get arrested for walking into some old guy's office with a two-foot blade in a Hefty bag.”

“Liv—” Cedric started.

“No.” Liv crossed her arms. “I'm serious. I'm the one with the car, and if you want to get to San Diego by tonight, we go without an armory.”

Cedric drew in a long breath. “Fine.”

Kat gave him a hard, calculating look, but then nodded as well. “Let us go, then.”

Cedric turned to Kat. “I think it might be best if you and Merek stay here.”

Kat's expression was one of disbelief. “What?”

“You were right earlier, that we need to retrieve our belongings from the museum. But it is more than that. . . . I have been thinking about what Merek suggested, back in the tunnels of the museum,” Cedric said quickly, talking over Kat's shocked sputters. Merek turned one cool glance in his direction. “Last night was not simply a few wraths tracking our whereabouts. It was a whole group, and they were on the attack. I do not think we can sit back and wait for them to find us again. Now
we
need to track
them
, picking up their trail from the museum. And it cannot wait another night, else the trail might fade.”

Cedric fixed his eyes on Kat. “You are one of the best trackers I know, Kat. If anyone can find a wrath and determine where they are coming from and what they want, it's you.”

Kat appeared torn. She was nearly glowing from Cedric's praise, but her eyes darted back and forth between Liv and Cedric, sitting side by side on the couch.

“And the two of you will journey alone?”

Merek smiled. “Ah. And the true purpose of the mission becomes clear.”

“Merek, enough,” Cedric said. But he got up, moving away from Liv. The cold rushed into the space where he'd been, and Liv tried not to let her disappointment show.

Cedric walked to Kat and touched her lightly on the arm. “We will be back tonight, hopefully with more information about the scrolls. The sooner we can find them, the sooner we can get home.”

“And leave this place, forever?” Kat said. Her words had a challenge in them, but Liv had a hard time understanding the conversation that Kat seemed to be having with Cedric just under the surface. Their eyes were speaking a hidden language the way that only two people who had known each other a very long time could do.

“Yes.” Cedric finally said. “Forever.”

Something twisted in Liv's stomach—just for a moment—and she turned her head away. At the same time, the tension went out of Kat's shoulders. She exhaled and murmured, “Going after the wraths is a good plan.”

“It's a brilliant plan,” Merek said, kicking his legs up over the edge of the couch. “Which is what I said when
I
thought of it yesterday.”

Cedric and Kat rolled their eyes at exactly the same time.

“Will you go with Kat and provide backup?” Cedric asked.

Merek shrugged one shoulder, but didn't say no.

Cedric turned to Liv. “Are you ready?” His eyes looked bright and almost fevered, the way they had just before he'd
fought the wraths. He had a mission again.

“Sure,” Liv said, trying to convey an excitement she didn't feel. “Let's get this show on the road.”

“Show?” Cedric asked.

Liv sighed, heavy. “Never mind.”

C
edric was getting used to riding in cars.

When Liv first pulled onto the main thoroughfare she referred to as “the five,” one look at the number of cars rushing toward them and past them at such an incredible speed made Cedric regret the second “animal-style” hamburger he'd eaten at the house. But after traveling for an hour, he was getting used to the feel of sitting still while the entire world flew by almost too fast to see.

Right out his window were trees and fences and houses and ocean, all blurring together and connected by an odd series of black wires that cut through the sky. He had to admit, the sight was almost beautiful. So often in this realm, Cedric had to grapple with confounding mysteries (Who put those black wires there, and for what possible purpose?), but when he stopped trying to puzzle it out, he found this world could be surprisingly interesting to look at. In calm moments, it was breathtaking.

Cedric turned to Liv and began to study the slight movements she made to control the vehicle. It didn't take much—just one
hand on the wheel, one foot working controls. Much easier than controlling horse-drawn carts, actually. Just as soon as you got used to the speed.

“What does this do?” he asked, pointing to a lever between the seats that could move between different slots, labeled
P
,
D
, and
R
. Liv smiled and explained, going on to answer more of his questions about various buttons, pulleys, and keys, as well as the GPS on the dash that directed them where to go.

“Does not seem all that difficult, really,” Cedric said.

“Nice try. But no way are you driving my car.”

Cedric shrugged. “What's this?” He reached over and turned a dial, and suddenly the car was filled with a noise that rolled and pounded through his skull.

“That's music!” Liv yelled as she leaned over to twist the dial. The noise level fell instantly.

“Music? You call that music?”

Liv shook her head. “Not just music. The Beatles. I'm guessing you've never heard of them?”

“Cannot say that I have,” Cedric countered. “But then again, you have never heard of the Rackling Quartet.”

“The what?”

“The most famous and talented group of musicians in our kingdom. My mother had them to play for Emme's fourteenth birthday feast.” Cedric looked back out the window, smiling at the memory. “It was a surprise. I'll never forget the look on her face when she came down the grand stairway and the Quartet started up with ‘Love Song in Green,' and dedicated it to Princess Emmeline. She turned white as a sheet, nearly
tripped over her own gown coming down the steps. I teased her about that for a week.”

Liv smiled, a far-off look in her eyes, as if she, too, could see his memory. Cedric replayed it in his mind, the way his father had taken his sister's hand and led her through the first dance. He'd later snuck swigs of his father's wine when no one was looking, and then danced all night with the pretty twin daughters of the aging Duchess Carroll.

“What did they sound like?” Liv asked.

Cedric struggled to think how to describe it, the twinkling sounds of the instruments that floated across the airy ballroom, the almost ethereal voice of the singer, a young woman with braids that twisted down almost to her knees. He could just barely make out the melody of the song in his own mind, but he didn't know enough about musical terms to explain it to Liv.

“It sounded like summer,” he finally said.

Liv just nodded, as if she knew exactly what he meant.

Cedric looked out the window again, but this time, instead of seeing lines of black wire or the endless blue sky, he could only see Emme's face. The sneaky grin she used to wear when she stole Cedric's toasted bread right from his plate at the breakfast table. The terror in her eyes just moments before Cedric stepped through the portal. He wondered what she was doing now. Was his family chained up at this moment, dreading whatever future awaited them? Was Emme getting enough to eat for breakfast? Was she missing him?

“Do you ever think about your brother and sister?” Cedric asked.

Liv stared straight ahead, her eyes focused on the road. If the sound of his own voice hadn't still been ringing in his ears, Cedric would have wondered if she'd heard him at all.

“I try not to,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Something in the set of Liv's jaw warned him to let it alone, but then he thought of Emme's face again, and how he would do anything to get back to where she was.

“But are they not still alive?”

Liv swallowed. “We were split up after the fire,” she said, her hands gripping the steering wheel. “I suppose I could go through the records at social services, track them down if I wanted. I think my caseworker, Joe, would help me, but . . .”

Liv paused and bit her lip.

“Why would you not look for them? If I knew I had family near, and that I could find them . . .” Cedric's voice warbled off. “You could
find
them.”

Liv stared straight ahead. “They probably wouldn't want me to.”

“I do not understand. Is this . . . another Earth custom?”

“No. It's . . .” Liv swallowed, and for a while she didn't speak. Then she sighed, and her story flowed out of her as if a dam had broken. “I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a kid. It was pretty bad, actually. My older brother, Peter, he used to watch these horror movies late at night in his room, ones with killer dolls and evil leprechauns. Definitely not kid-appropriate. And I used to sneak into his room at night and watch them with him, even though I knew I wasn't supposed to. I started having
these nightmares, and every morning I would tell myself that I would stop watching, but every night I was, like, compelled to go back for more. I had to watch what Peter was watching, you know?”

Liv shook her head a little and smiled. Still she kept her eyes locked straight ahead, and in the intense sunshine coming in through the car's front window they looked more golden than green-brown.

“Anyway, I developed this terrible fear of the dark. I started keeping a flashlight in my nightstand, just in case I had to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

Cedric tried to picture a younger version of Liv, vulnerable and afraid. It was difficult to do.

“One night, I got up and grabbed for the flashlight, but it wouldn't turn on. The batteries were dead. So I went into my closet and opened up this secret shoe box of stuff I had, just, you know, old arrowheads and junk like that.”

Cedric didn't know, but he didn't say anything.

“I had this old lighter of Peter's, one he had from his Boy Scout days. I used it to light a candle that I could take with me to the bathroom. I know it sounds dumb, but it helped. The flame was like this weapon I had against the dark. So I went to the bathroom with my candle and put it on the counter next to the sink. When I was done, I raced back to my bedroom and jumped into bed. I didn't remember that the candle was still in the bathroom. I just . . . fell asleep.”

Liv stopped and took a shaky breath, eyes never veering from the road.

“When I woke up, it was dark and my room was filled with smoke. I could barely breathe, and I was so terrified I kept inhaling these huge lungfuls of ash. I cried out for my parents, but it was Peter who came into my room. He had Maisy, and he pushed open the window and dropped us out of it. That's when the fire reached my bedroom door. I could feel the heat from the flames from where I was sitting on the grass outside.

“Peter didn't have any choice but to jump through the window. He took Maisy and me each by the hand and led us to the street. The fire trucks appeared moments after, and I remember how happy I was to see them. How sure I was that they would put out the fire in my room, and then my parents would come out the front door and join us.

“They did put out the fire. But my parents never came outside. It wasn't until I was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital that I remembered the candle.”

Cedric had stayed completely silent throughout Liv's story. Toward the end, her voice sounded scratchy and harsh, as though she was trying not to cry. As though she were still choking on ash. He struggled to think of something to say, but nothing felt appropriate. “Liv, I am so sorry—”

She cut him off with a wave of the hand. “It was a long time ago. But every time I think of Peter and Maisy, all I can think of is how I ruined their lives, ruined everything.”

“You were just a child.”

“A child who killed our parents, even if it was an accident. How could they ever forgive me for that? I don't think I'd be able to forgive someone for that. In fact, I know I couldn't.”

Cedric waited again. He wanted to reach out and take Liv's hand, but both of hers were clutched tight against the steering wheel. Her eyes didn't waver from the road. “I don't know what I'd say if I saw them again. I don't know if I'd want to hear what they have to say to me.”

After a moment, Liv finally turned her head and looked at Cedric. Her eyes caught the glare of the sun, which was lowering itself past Cedric's window, and lit up bright. He could see moisture border the edges of her eyes, but not a single tear fell.

“I've never told anyone that story before,” she said. “Not even Shannon.”

Cedric's mind raced as he tried to think of what to say. He finally just settled on the first thing that occurred to him. “Why tell me?”

Liv paused before turning her attention back to the road. “I don't know. I really don't,” she whispered.