The Tower (15 page)

Cindy walked to the center of the stage and shook Mr. Baker’s hand as the crowd continued to clap. I stopped walking well before catching up with Cindy, firmly holding Alia’s hand and keeping us several yards away from the “Heart of New Haven.” I tried to look around the hall but, half-blinded by the brilliant stage lights, I could barely see anything in detail.

Having finished introducing Cindy, Mr. Baker came over to us, gesturing toward Alia and me as he said, “And this is Cynthia’s beautiful family, Alia and Adrian Gifford!”

No arguments here. I just concentrated on keeping my smile as even more lights were cast upon us. I felt Alia’s grip tighten on mine. I hoped Alia was smiling too, but there was no way to be sure.

Mr. Baker continued, “Alia is one of our precious healers, but she is not a Guardian, and should be treated with the respect we are honor-bound to show our charges.”

“Addy,”
I heard Alia say in my head,
“you’re crushing my hand.”

I let go of my sister’s hand as Mr. Baker introduced me next, saying, “And Adrian here is our newest Guardian, young but already a very powerful telekinetic. He is too modest to show us his powers on stage, but if I were to kick him off it, I can almost guarantee that he wouldn’t hit the floor.”

I heard more laughter and clapping as I gave a little wave and grinned stupidly into the lights.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. Baker, returning to the center of the stage, “fellow Guardians, family and friends, let us make a pledge tonight. Let us pledge to work together to make New Haven worthy of its name. Let us pledge to bring about...”

As Mr. Baker continued to speak, someone tapped me on the shoulder. Turning my head, I saw a catering staff member holding a tray with four wineglasses on it, each containing a reddish-purple liquid.

He handed me two of the glasses and whispered, “It’s just grape juice. For the toast.”

The caterer then swiftly moved over to Cindy and Mr. Baker to hand them the remaining two wineglasses before disappearing off stage. Finally a little used to the stage lights, I could see that the rest of the caterers had almost finished weaving their way through the audience too, and nearly everyone was holding a glass.

So far, no gunshots had been fired. I relaxed a little and passed one of the grape-juice-filled wineglasses to Alia.

I couldn’t see Mr. Baker’s face well from the side, but I could tell from his voice that he was smiling widely as he said, “...because we are now the single greatest collection of lesser gods, freaks, demons and monsters in the entire world!”

The audience cheered and laughed loudly.

“And this gathering is here to stay!”

I felt the air vibrate with cheering voices. Mr. Baker certainly knew how to play his audience. He waited until the crowd had settled down again before holding his wineglass high. “So raise your glasses, brothers and sisters!” he cried. “To New Haven!”

“To New Haven!” the crowd cheered.

But even as it did, I heard Alia say loudly into my head,
“Yuck!”

Alia had spat out her grape juice, and I jerked my head toward Mr. Baker and Cindy, who also were looking at their half-drunk glasses in a strange way. I hadn’t drunk mine yet, and my heart skipped a beat as I wondered if our drinks had been poisoned.

“This is disgusting, Addy!”
said Alia.

I looked at Alia again, and cautiously touched the tip of my tongue to my drink. As far as I could tell, never having tasted any before, it was red wine. I nearly laughed out loud. Mr. Baker and Cindy had been handed our grape juice!

As we left the stage, Cindy grinned at me, saying, “So, did you enjoy your wine, Adrian?”

“More than Alia did,” I answered, laughing. I actually drained my glass before we left the stage. It burned my throat a bit, but I figured if ever I was going to get a glass of wine at thirteen years old, it was now.

“Aside from the slight mix-up,” said Mr. Baker, chuckling, “I think that went rather well.”

“Mix-ups,” corrected Cindy. “Adrian’s last name is Howell, Travis.”

“It’s okay,” I said, still laughing. “I’ll go by either.”

Mr. Baker said, “They’re going to set up the band here now, so we might as well go join the party. You three will stay together please, and let your bodyguards do their job?”

Leaving Mr. Baker to take care of the band arrangements, we exited from the back door again and made our way toward the outdoor buffet. By now, nearly half of the crowd had already exited the party hall and were lining up at the buffet tables.

We didn’t have to line up, Cindy being tonight’s guest of honor. The catering staff delivered plate loads to our table, and Alia, who and been spitting and complaining about the awful taste left in her mouth, finally got to drink some real grape juice.

Soon, loud music was pouring out from the open doors of the party hall, but it seemed that most of the crowd was still eating outside.

Dinner turned out to be a busy ordeal for us. Various Guardians, most of whom I had never met, came up to our table to introduce themselves to Cindy, and then to Alia and me. We spent more time shaking hands than chewing. But I got to meet Mr. Koontz as well, who I had only passed in the lobby once since arriving in New Haven. He was still a night owl, and we thanked him for his continued assistance in keeping Alia nightmare-free.

We were eventually left to eat in peace, but then Alia asked to go to the bathroom. Cindy took her into the party hall, followed closely by Cindy’s guards. I wasn’t about to tag along to a girls’ room no matter what Mr. Baker said about our security, so I sat guarding the table.

That was when I heard a familiar voice from behind me say, “Hey, aren’t you the kid I saw on stage? Adrian
Gifford
?”

“Terry!” I exclaimed, standing up from my table.

Terry was wearing a light green party dress that clashed so horribly with her bright red hair that the end effect was, surprisingly, not at all unappealing. In fact, I thought she actually looked quite stunning.

“Wow,” said Terry, looking me over. “You’re actually wearing something normal for a change.”

I gave her an annoyed look, and Terry smiled, saying, “I mean, you look great.”

“You look... uh... pretty good yourself,” I said lamely.

Terry laughed. “You’re horrible, Adrian.”

Terry was holding two glasses of red wine, and she passed one to me as she said, “I was watching from pretty close to the stage. That was wine in your glass, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said, relieved that we were having a halfway-normal conversation for once.

“Poor Alia!” laughed Terry. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Cindy,” I said. “She’ll be back in a moment.”

Terry touched her wineglass to mine. “To New Haven.”

“New Haven,” I said quietly, and slowly brought the red wine to my lips. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted another glass of this stuff. One glass, just for the experience of having had it, was plenty, but I decided it would be impolite to refuse. I sipped slowly.

Terry drained half of her glass in one gulp, and then said, “You know, Ms. Gifford told me all about you yesterday.”

“Yes, I heard,” I replied stiffly.

“Does Alia really call you Addy?”

I put my hand to my face as Terry giggled and said, “That is truly
adorable
, Addy.”

I decided that my safest bet was to change the topic. I asked, “What was the offer Cindy made you yesterday, Terry?”

Terry looked surprised. “You mean Ms. Gifford didn’t tell you?”

“Cindy likes surprises.”

“And you don’t?”

“Not really,” I said.

“Well, tough,” said Terry. “If Ms. Gifford didn’t tell you, I don’t think I will either.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically.

“You’re quite welcome,” Terry replied with a smile.

I took another sip of wine as Terry said, “Ms. Gifford told me about your rescue too. About how you refused to leave without Alia...”

I shrugged. “So?”

Terry looked me in the eye, saying evenly, “You’re dangerous, Adrian.”

“Could that possibly be a compliment?” I asked hopefully.

“Not really, no,” said Terry.

“You think I should have left her there to die?”

“Actually,” Terry said carefully, “yes, I do. Don’t get me wrong, Adrian. I thought it was really brave of you. But in the end, you were just lucky.”

I wasn’t about to contest that, so I shrugged again, and Terry said, “Luck will only get you so far before it gets you killed.”

Suddenly I heard Cindy’s voice behind us say, “Terry! Hi!”

Cindy and Alia came up to us, and Cindy looked down at our glasses. “What’s in those?”

Grinning, Terry answered, “Grape juice.”

“Ha!” said Cindy. “Very old grape juice, I suspect. Knowing you, Terry, I should probably be thankful that it isn’t something stronger.”

“Um...” I said, my eyes darting between Cindy and the wineglass in my hand.

Cindy merely shrugged and said, “When have I ever told you that you can’t do something, Adrian? It’s a party. Just pace yourself, okay?”

Oh well,
I thought,
one more glass won’t kill me.

Even while talking and laughing with Alia, Terry finished the rest of her wine before I was halfway through mine. Suddenly she grabbed my left hand, saying, “Come on, Adrian, dance with me.”

I dropped my glass in surprise. As Terry dragged me toward the party hall, despite the chattering of the crowd and the loud music issuing from the entrance, I could clearly make out the sound of Cindy’s and Alia’s laughter.

“But I don’t know how to dance!” I protested as Terry pulled me through a pair of large double doors and into the party hall.

“Neither do I,” laughed Terry. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Perhaps it was because of how much I felt like a fish out of water, but the party hall looked even bigger from this side of the stage. Three massive crystal chandeliers lined the high ceiling, bathing the spacious marble dance floor in a soft, glimmering light. The hall was gradually beginning to refill, but still fairly easy to navigate through. Terry quickly guided me to the center of the floor, right under the largest chandelier.

Fortunately for me, the music coming from the live band on the stage was fast enough that it didn’t make much difference how we moved. Even so, I felt horribly self-conscious every time some Guardian I didn’t know looked at me. Some of them even gave me waves and smiles, making me wish my psionic power could turn me invisible.

I also couldn’t get over how different Terry was outside of the dojo. For starters, she was treating me like a friend as opposed to prey. But I had little time to wonder what Cindy might have told her about me yesterday: I was too busy trying to keep up with Terry’s dancing. For a girl who claimed she didn’t know how to dance, Terry certainly knew how to dance, her every motion in perfect harmony with the pulsing rhythm. I moved as clumsily as I did in the dojo, but for once, Terry didn’t throw one snide remark at me. She seemed to be enjoying herself too much to care.

We gradually danced our way closer to the stage, and I noticed that the band was partly psionic. The lead guitarist, no doubt a telekinetic, was levitating his guitar over his head and playing it without touching the chords. The drummer was a pyroid who sometimes shot off little bursts of fire from his drumsticks. Two of the singers were light-foots, frequently jumping high into the air and all around the stage like an acrobatic circus act. Some of the Guardian dancers around me were showing off their powers too, but I kept my own feet firmly on the floor.

Then something happened that nearly made me swallow my tongue. The band decided to give us a break from all the exercise we were getting, so I found myself facing off with Terry for a slow dance. If I never once landed on her toes, it was because Terry instinctively knew how to avoid my awkward steps.

“Am I making you nervous?” asked Terry, smiling as she pulled me a little closer to her.

“It’s just that I don’t know how to dance,” I told her, though the real reason for my uneasiness was that I had never really danced with a girl before.