Tris & Izzie (12 page)

Y
ou spend a lot of time in a high school. You get attached to it, even if it is utilitarian and box-shaped. You get used to the bright blue and yellow walls that are supposed to keep you alert in class. You get used to the rows of gray lockers, with the number 151 that bulges out on the side from the time a football player couldn't get it open and kicked it.

And then a giant comes in and ruins everything.

I had good memories of this school. Mark and I kissed for the first time here during a dance in the pit. It would never be the same now. Even if they rebuilt it, it wouldn't be the same place. Not to us. The big clock that hung on the wall above the pit like the eye of the principal, warning us that we were late to class, was dangling by a single wire.

Mark ran out the side door as the helicopter closed in.

The giant turned away, and I thought that was a good thing for Mark.

I cringed as the giant cupped his hands to his mouth and blew at the helicopter. That was all it took. The helicopter twisted in the air, then was pushed back. I didn't see it crash, but it went down hard somewhere.

The sirens from the police cars and ambulances stopped then, too. I hoped that meant they were going to hold off until they figured out what to do next.

But then the giant turned back toward the school and put his head down to the ground, his nose twitching.

“What's he doing?” asked Branna.

“I don't know,” I said.

The giant started to move again, in the direction Mark had run.

What? No. That wasn't supposed to happen.

I started jumping up and down, shouting at the giant, trying to get his attention.

But the giant looked like an enormous bloodhound, sniffing along.

“The elemental magic,” said Branna in a hollow tone.

“Right. From when I almost set Mark on fire,” I said, understanding. “The giant can smell my magic.” And now the creature was following Mark.

“I'm going after him,” said Branna.

She thought that would help? “No. I'll do something.” What, I had no idea.

I could just see the hind end of the giant disappearing behind the edge of the school. I ran out the front door, though why I bothered with doors, I don't know. There were plenty of holes in the walls.

“Giant! Come back!” I shouted. “I'm your magic!”

But he didn't come back. Stupid giant. You'd think with a big head like that, he would have a few more IQ points.

“Giant!” I kept jumping up and down, screaming. I wasn't going to let the creature hurt Mark. Or Branna.

I could hear him sniffing around beside the school. Then I got mad. I didn't mean to focus my magic, but I guess I did it anyway. I felt a fireball shooting out of my hand in the giant's direction. It wasn't pleasant. It was terrifying, actu-ally. But I was using my magic now.

Branna came running up beside me.

“Shhh!” I told her, and put an arm out to keep her from going any farther.

I heard the swish of the fireball, then a thunk, followed by a sizzle and a roar. Then I saw some smoke.

The giant turned back, trailing smoke, and started moving toward me and Branna.

“Branna, get out of here!” I called.

“Not until you come with me,” she said.

Did I mention how stubborn Branna can be? And how she never does what I tell her to?

“Branna, I don't know if I can control my magic,” I shouted. “I don't know if I can keep it away from you!”

She didn't listen.

“You're not facing this alone,” said Branna.

I stared up at the giant, who looked pretty angry. Blood dripped from under his left eye, where the fireball had hit him. I think it was blood, though it was blackish red, not regular red like human blood. His giant mouth was twisted into a parabola. (Even at that moment, I felt smug that I'd learned that term in math.) His nose was dripping, and part of the reason I started to run was to get away from what-ever was coming out of his nostrils. It looked like thick glue, and whatever it touched slowly began to melt. I could see the evidence all around the school yard, where even cement blocks and shards of glass had melted.

“Magic!” shouted the giant in a low voice that was enough to make me feel like another earthquake had struck, right in my heart.

Aren't people who have magic and fight giants supposed to be brave? Well, I wasn't.

“Run, Branna!” I said. I tore back into the school through a broken window, Branna right behind me. We took shelter again in the pit. My arms were wrapped around my body as I rocked back and forth.

Branna must have been wondering how she had gotten stuck with a best friend like me, blind and stupid as I was.

“Magic?” said the giant. “Where Magic go?” He was clearly unhappy, and he expressed it in his eloquent giant way: by collapsing onto the plaza in front of the school and punching the cement patio.

The cement flew up and peppered the windows around us. It was worse than when he had thrown the giant boulders, because there was no way to avoid all the flying shards of cement. I got one in my cheek, and let me tell you, it hurt. Then one hit my knee, and another lower, on my calf.

Maybe you think that after you've been attacked by a giant, hit by a few chunks of cement, and almost killed by thrown boulders, you'd be too scared to feel pain. But that isn't the case.

Branna was even worse off than I was. She'd been hit in the head by one of the larger pieces, and her blond hair was turning red with her blood. “Now what?” she asked in a low voice.

She must have been wishing by then that she had left with Mark after all. Or that she had never met me.

“I'm going to try to use magic on your head,” I said. “To heal it.” If I'd had one of Mom's potions with me, it would have been easy. But even if Mom was in one of the ambulances up the street, she wouldn't arrive in time to help Branna.

I tried to put myself into a trance to focus, terrified that a fireball would come right out of my hands and sink into Branna's bleeding wound or that I would inadvertently turn her into a newt. Or that I would somehow call another giant and then we'd have two to battle.

There were probably a lot of wrong ways to use magic. But the only way I'd had success with it by myself was with fire. If only I could control it a little bit …

“You can do it, Izzie. I've always known that. You can do anything you want.”

I felt fire in my hands, and I jerked away. “Branna!” I cried out.

But she wasn't on fire. She wasn't shrieking in pain. She put her hands to her head and felt along the top, where the worst wound had been. “It's healed,” she said.

“Really?” I put my hand out to touch it. It wasn't sewn up neatly the way they do it in the hospital. It hadn't disappeared, either. It was sealed up as if it had been cauterized with a very small, precise iron. It was still a little hot to the touch.

“Does it hurt?” I asked. I felt the other spots that had been bleeding, and they were the same.

“A little. Not as much as before, though,” said Branna.

“You should go now,” I said. “Before it gets even worse.”

“If I left now,” said Branna slowly, “the giant would smell your magic on me. It would come after me like it went after Mark.”

I hadn't thought of that. “Right. Bad idea. You stay here. I'll go out.” I stood up.

Branna pulled me back. “No, I'll go out. Distract it. Make it think I'm you. Then you can attack it from behind. I bet the magic you did on me will make me smell even more like you than Mark did. Besides, I'm female, too. That might confuse it.”

But Branna didn't look anything like me. Unless … I took off my sweatshirt and handed it to her. I loved how soft it was after Mark had worn it so much. I had always felt like he was next to me when I wore it, like he was telling me that I was his and he was mine. It seemed wrong for me to have it now, anyway.

It was a faded red, and it smelled of fire. Magical fire. That was one of the elements. But what about the other three? How could I use them to fight the giant? Earth and water and air.

“Thanks, Izzie,” said Branna. She pressed her hands gently against the fabric of the sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. “Ready?” she asked.

“I'm ready if you are,” I said.

She ran out to face the giant with her head held high, confident, powerful, like she believed she could kill it. Or I could. Maybe it was an act, but if so, then she is the best actress ever. If I was the giant, I would have run away, yelping in fear.

She held her hands out in front of her. “Giant,” she said in a strong, loud voice, without a hint of fear. “I am Magic. You wanted me?”

The giant straightened up to his full height. He had been hunched over, peering into the school through the windows and attacking small objects on the ground. Now he was ready for a real battle.

“Magic,” he said with satisfaction. “You are not coward.”

That didn't make me feel so good, because I was still inside the school, and did that make me a coward? I was being tricky; that was all. I was outsmarting the giant, like you're supposed to when you're fighting someone bigger and stupider than you. That's what happens in all the fairy tales, right?

“No. But I will give you one chance to flee before I burn you to a cinder,” threatened Branna.

I started moving. I needed to be in a hidden location for this to work, a place where the giant wouldn't immediately see me and smash the roof in. I couldn't stay inside, as tempting as it was. Its safety was an illusion. The giant could come in anytime. He just wanted to make sure he was killing the “magic.”

I went outside through a broken window, and I felt the glass cutting into my arms and neck, making me bleed. But I didn't dare use my magic on myself right now. I had to save it for the giant.

I saw a row of cars that had been thrown together in clumps. Grimacing in pain, I tucked myself behind the first one, ready to leap to the next one as soon as I had to.

“No chance,” the giant said to Branna. “No run away. I kill you.”

“That's not going to happen,” said Branna.

The giant put down his hand and picked her up.

I winced at the sight of Branna being lifted sixty feet into the air, higher than a Ferris wheel. She still acted as if the giant could not hurt her. I don't know how she had the courage to stay so calm.

Branna was right next to the giant's face now, and he was examining her carefully. Maybe he was nearsighted. Who would make glasses in that size?

The giant opened his mouth.

I thought how bad his breath must smell from up close. It was bad enough where I was, yards away. I didn't think he was a vegetarian. He looked at Branna like she was a tasty treat, a bite-size chocolate-covered ice-cream bar. He wasn't going to worry about the calories, either. Guys never do. They want to be bigger.

“Let me remind you: you were
sent
to kill me. Isn't that so?” asked Branna.

“Does not matter,” said the giant.

“Well, why didn't whoever sent you come himself? I'll tell you why. Because you're the first wave. I'm supposed to use up all my strength on you so I don't have as much for him. He doesn't think you're going to win, though. You're just collateral damage.”

“Magic use too many words,” said the giant. His nose twitched. I thought,
I've got to do it now. No more waiting
.

I concentrated on the image of a giant fireball, and I sent it right at the giant.

It wasn't as big as I had hoped. I was afraid of hitting Branna, but luckily, the fireball hit the giant in the shoulder. He batted it down, and then his hand was on fire. It was the hand that held Branna.

“You see? You are going to die, giant,” said Branna, tucking herself away from the fire as much as she could.

Was he going to be fooled by her charade long enough for me to send another fireball? Were the police and the other rescuers going to stay away long enough to give me a clear field?

I hoped so.

This time, instead of trying to send out one big fireball, I sent out a shower of them, one after another. It didn't take as much strength that way, and the giant couldn't avoid them all. They peppered him, and at first he just hopped on one foot or made a face. But they kept hitting him.

He dropped Branna. “Not Magic,” he said, and turned toward me.

I jumped to the next clump of cars as he reached down and threw the flagpole in my direction. Whether he had bad eyesight or not, he speared the place where I had been perfectly. It was unnerving, looking at the flagpole shivering in the ground exactly where I had crouched a moment before.

“Magic!” shouted the giant. “Come fight me. Coward!”

But I kept up the fireballs. Small and steady does the trick.

For a second, I stopped, because I couldn't see Branna, and I was afraid she was in the way. But then she limped around the giant, toward the doors to the music room on the north side of the building. So she was still alive, still moving.

I kept up the attack.

The giant kept throwing things in random directions, desperate. Then finally, he fell down. The fireball that did him in went straight into his eye and must have bored into his head. I watched him for several seconds to make sure he didn't get back up, but I didn't touch him or check to see if he was still breathing. I figured he would try to attack again if he could. He hadn't seemed the type to fake dead and try to get away.

His body was still smoldering on the ground when I saw Mark and Tristan run forward, ducking down so they wouldn't be seen by any of the police cars.

I
looked toward where Branna had gone, but she wasn't visible above the rubble. I figured she must have gotten inside the school somehow. Mark was where I had last seen her, and I thought he would go inside, too.

There were wires hanging everywhere, from the street-lights the giant had taken out. Everything was a terrible mess. I wondered how we were going to avoid people's learning about magic once they saw the wreckage—not to mention the giant's body.

The school wasn't completely ruined, but I didn't think we'd be having classes there anytime soon. There was going to be a lot of cleanup: the debris, the broken roof and mangled walls, the windows. I hoped the school had a budget for this.

“Isolde!” cried Tristan. He ran to me, threw his arms around me, and hugged me so tightly I could hardly breathe.

I squawked, and he put me down. “Forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you. Are you all right? How did you defeat the giant?”

“I think I've figured out my magic,” I said. “Or part of it, at least.”

“Oh?”

I held out my hand and thought about Tristan. A fireball grew in my palm, and I kept it there, glowing red and yellow, while Tristan stared. “I can make these,” I said.

“That is good news,” he said cautiously.

“I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday,” I said. I had a lot to apologize for, and I knew it. Maybe now wasn't the best time, with all the destruction around us, but I didn't want to wait anymore.

“I did not tell you the full truth,” Tristan admitted. “And it is true that I wanted you to come with me to fight Gurmun from the beginning.”

And that was so selfish and deceitful of him? Ha!

“You must think I am so shallow,” I said. “I don't know why you even stayed here for me, but I am glad you did.” I put my hands to his face and felt his lips, his cheekbones, his eyebrows. Every part of him was delicious to touch.

“I stayed because I could not leave,” he said. “I stayed because there was no place for me to go if you would not be mine. No house could be a home; no sunrise could be warm and light if you were gone from me. I need you. Without you, I do not think I could live.” It was pretty dramatic stuff, but the way Tristan said it, I believed him.

“I feel the same way.” I pulled him closer. I knew that people were going to be coming soon, police and everyone else. But Tristan and I had this moment to ourselves.

We kissed. It was a feeling I will never forget. His lips were soft, but he was cold. He had been outside in the elements for the past day and night. Feeling his arms wrap around me was like finding a coat that fit me perfectly, that had been made for me. He was the kind of guy I had never dared imagine could be mine. I didn't know someone like that could exist in any world, let alone in the one I was in.

I loved the way he tasted salty and sweet and sour all at once. Maybe the love philtre had pushed us together sooner, but I couldn't believe that it wouldn't have happened anyway. True love doesn't let anything stand in its way. It really does conquer all.

Suddenly, Tristan pulled away from me.

“What?” I reached for him.

“You killed her!” Mark shouted. “I left her with you. I trusted you. And you killed her. Branna and I hardly had a chance to know each other.”

“Branna?” I said. I looked toward the north doors to the school, and I saw a heap of clothes I had thought was rubble. But how? The last time I had seen her, she had been standing up, hurt but alive.

“Yes, Branna. Did you forget her already? What did you do to her? I thought you were going to protect her!” I had never seen Mark like this before, even when the basketball team had lost the state championships last year because Will had missed a foul shot at the last buzzer. Mark had punched a hole in the locker room wall that night and broken his hand in three places, but that was it. Now he was shaking his fist at me.

“She—she wanted to help,” I said haltingly.

Tristan quickly moved between us. “Leave Isolde be. She needs time to recover from the giant's attack. She has other things she must do with her magic now that she has discovered its true nature.”

Mark yanked on Tristan's shoulder. “I don't care an ounce about her magic and what she can do with it. Her magic is what got Branna killed.”

Tristan's mouth closed tightly, and I could see the line of his jaw grow taut.

“Mark, don't do this,” I said. “Let me see if Branna is—”

Mark punched me in the face. Mark, the steadiest guy in the world. The guy who made me feel safe whenever I was with him. The guy I loved like a brother and a friend.

I was so stunned that I just gaped at him. I didn't even try to shield myself from a second blow.

He swung at me and he would have hit me again, except that Tristan caught his hand. There was a sound like flesh hitting wood. And it wasn't the wood that cracked.

Mark made a low grunting sound. Then he turned to Tristan. “If you want a fight,” he said, “I'll give you a fight. You think you can touch me? A runner from Parmenie? What are you going to do, make me chase you to death?”

Mark was several inches taller than Tristan. And Mark, though he wasn't a weight lifter or anything, had muscles. Tristan wasn't without his own muscles, but they were more compact. It was like a semitrailer meeting a sports car: when they crash, everyone knows who is going to win.

“Stop it, you two!” I shouted.

They were circling each other, feeling out weaknesses.

“Keep out of this, you witch!” said Mark.

“Find yourself a safe place for a little while, until I am finished,” said Tristan.

Like I was going to do that. I jumped up on Tristan's back and pounded on him. “Don't hurt Mark!” I said. Right then, Mark kicked Tristan in the stomach.

I slid off Tristan's back and yanked on Mark's arm. “If you really care about Branna, why are you doing this? You should be helping her.” It had only been a few minutes since I saw her go down, and I knew this was the last chance we were going to have before the police came in and decided to do things their way.

“She's dead,” said Mark.

“There's dead, and then there's dead,” I said. Mom had taught me that was true even if you didn't have magic. There was a certain length of time before the heart couldn't be restarted. It depended on the temperature (colder was better), and also on how much exertion the person had been engaged in at the time of death (less was better). And also on magic. Mom had potions that could bring people back to life if they had died valiantly and were still supposed to be alive. She had explained it to me once, but I hadn't listened very carefully.

While I was distracting Mark, Tristan landed a fist in his face. Then he whirled around, caught Mark's leg with his, and pulled him down.

I fell down, too, right between the two of them. Now I was mad.

“You are not helping me!” I shouted at Tristan. I needed him to calm Mark down, not make him more upset. They got up and started circling each other, grimacing. I pushed between them.

But neither of them was listening to me. I was going to have to stop them—and fast. We couldn't stand around fighting while Branna was lying there, dead or close to it, and the police were about to come storming in any minute and put us all in custody.

I didn't even have to think about the magic. It just happened automatically. I felt the heat inside me, anger and frustration and sadness and fear coming together and bursting out of me. I threw the first fireball at Mark, right into his mouth, which was wide open.

He looked like he had swallowed something unintentionally and was about to throw it back up. Then he stepped back, arms wheeling, and let out a huge smoking belch. It hadn't been a big fireball, but he clutched his stomach and went down.

“Mark!” I shouted. I hadn't meant to hurt him; I was just trying to get him to listen.

Tristan ran toward Mark, and I thought he would kick Mark while he was down. So I threw a small fireball at Tristan, too, and it hit him in the back. I heard a sizzling sound, like when I had hit the giant with all those fireballs at once.

“Tristan!” I shouted as he fell forward onto Mark.

I rushed to him and rolled him off Mark. He smelled of smoke and magic. I kissed him on the lips and then on his eyes and his forehead and his cheeks and his chin. “Tristan, Tristan, Tristan.”

Love makes you say stupid stuff, though I don't think it technically lowers your chances of a scholarship.

He breathed and folded his arms around me again.

But I couldn't waste another minute. I had to help Branna. Life and death before romance seemed like a good rule.

I hurried over to Mark, who had somehow gotten up and was kneeling by Branna's body.

“Don't touch her! You gave up the right to anything of hers!” Mark shouted at me.

I ignored him and bent over Branna. I could see now that there was a piece of wood sticking out of her back. It must have gone straight through her when she fell. Seeing it made me cringe. There was blood soaking into her clothes and onto the ground around her.

But blood pouring out meant she was still alive, didn't it?

I put my fingers to her throat to check for a pulse and couldn't find one. Was I just too nervous?

“Branna? Branna, talk to me.”

Her mouth twitched.

She wasn't dead, then. But she would be soon unless I could figure out how to get her to Mom. I couldn't move her, because the wood was stuck in her, and I couldn't get the wood out, because that would just make her bleed faster.

“Mark!” I said. “Talk to Branna. She's alive. See if you can get her to respond to you.” If she was fighting, that was half the battle. Mom had told me lots of stories of people who had come out of things that no one expected them to, mostly because they had people talking to them, reminding them of what they had to fight for, why they should live even if it hurt.

“We never had a chance,” said Mark. “I had just found her, and now she's—”

“Quit it,” I said sharply. “You're going to have all the time you need with her. Tell her all the things you're going to do when she's well again. Dances you're going to take her to. Cool places you'll go. Movies you'll see together.” All the things I used to do with Mark. But I wasn't jealous at all. I had Tristan, and I really wanted Branna to be happy. And alive.

Minus the piece of wood in her chest.

Tristan sat down next to me. “What can I do?” he asked. “I have my sword, but it seems of little use now.”

“Do you have any healing magic?” I asked. “Maybe a potion or something?”

Tristan shook his head. “My magic is of metals. That is why I have always used it through the sword.”

“Metals.” I'd never heard Mom talk about that.

Tristan shook his head. “It is called alchemy in some parts of the world.”

He was an alchemist, my mother was a witch, and I was a sorceress. This was all too confusing. “Give me some space to think. I need to gather myself and my magic.”

My power to cauterize had worked on the cuts on Branna's head. I couldn't do it before I took the piece of wood out of her, though. I had to take out the wood and then cauterize her wound immediately, to make sure she didn't bleed to death. I couldn't do that alone.

And it wouldn't fix everything. Some internal organs probably had been injured. I didn't dare to try to use my power on them. I wished I had already taken human anatomy, like Mom had told me I should, my sophomore year.

“Mark, do you have your cell phone?”

He looked up at me, startled. “What?”

“Your cell phone. Get it out. Call my mom. She'll tell me what to do.” Maybe she was already here at the school with her ambulance.

Mark's fingers were shaking. He dialed wrong twice.

“Give it to Tristan,” I said.

So Tristan took the phone, and he pressed each number deliberately, to make sure it went through. Then he handed the phone to me.

“Izzie? Is that you? Thank goodness!” said Mom.

I was so relieved to hear her I could feel tears pricking at my eyelids. “Where are you, Mom?” I asked her.

“I'm a block away from the school, in an ambulance. Where are you? You weren't with any of the kids who escaped the earthquake.”

“Mom, it wasn't an earthquake,” I said.

There was a pause. Mom said quietly, “I know that, Izzie.”

“It was a giant.”

“I know,” she said again.

“It's dead now, but Branna is badly hurt. She's barely alive.”

“Okay, listen, Izzie. Is there anything the police will see if they come in now?” she asked.

I glanced around, realizing what she meant. “The giant's body,” I said.

“Is there any way to prevent that?”

From the way she was talking, I could tell that she was with someone else. She hadn't said a word about magic.

“I could burn it,” I said. “With fireballs.”

“You need to do that,” said Mom.

“But Branna—” I argued.

“Do it,” said Mom. “Now.”

She had told me before how important it was that I didn't tell people about magic. She'd described the havoc it would cause if people everywhere started to search for it and use it without understanding. Or if they tried to call magical creatures, like this giant, thinking they could control them.

I had to trust my mom.

“Okay, I'll do it,” I said. I started a fireball in my hand.

Mark's eyes went big, but he didn't say a word.

I threw fireballs at the giant's body again and again, until it was a smoldering mess that could have been anything.

“Done?” asked Mom. I had forgotten she was still on the line.

I was breathing heavily.

“Done,” I said.

“Okay, now I can come in and help you. All right?”