FenceStriking Distance - Sarah Rees Brennan Page 0,70

school, in that way you do, right Eugene?” asked Seiji. “Or I expect you soon will.”

“I guess… I guess I will,” Eugene said weakly.

“I’m gonna tell everyone,” volunteered Chad with enthusiasm.

“Good work, Chad,” said Seiji. “Teamwork will catch these desperate criminals.”

Chad tried to reach around Nicholas to give Seiji a pat on the back. Nicholas jostled Chad, to little effect, and Seiji almost fell off the bench trying to avoid the back pat.

“Wow, what criminals?” asked one of the Bons, stopping by Eugene’s seat.

The Bon was carrying a fruit basket with a card that read Get Well Soon, Aiden! on it in glitter. Nicholas hadn’t known Aiden was under the weather. He hoped he felt better soon. Aiden wasn’t Nicholas’s favorite person or anything, but he was one of Nicholas’s teammates. That was more important than anything else.

Seiji caught Eugene’s eye across the table.

“Well!” Eugene pulled himself together with effort. “Uh, yes! Rumor has it there was an awful crime committed in Kingstone. At that jewelry store, you know the one?”

The Bon was agog. “I bought Aiden a pin there once as a token of my admiration!”

“Okay, bro, you do you!” said Eugene. “Anyway, a couple of Kings Row dudes were in there asking to see trays and trays of stuff, and once they were gone it was discovered practically all the watches in the store were gone, too.”

“No!” breathed the Bon, sounding delighted to be scandalized.

“And I heard from a very reliable source these guys have hidden their stash in their room. Keep your eyes peeled!”

“Who are these guys?” asked the Bon.

“Maybe I shouldn’t name names…,” Eugene said uneasily.

“Maybe you should,” suggested Seiji. “After lunch.”

Eugene had seemed to enjoy telling his tale of mystery and secret treasure, but when the Bon had scurried off to share their dark knowledge, Eugene sagged against Julian.

Julian patted him on the back, which could have bruised his ribs, but Eugene seemed to take comfort from the gesture.

Nicholas wondered what these dastardly watch thieves might look like. Those watches in Weirs had looked really fancy. This thief could potentially have stolen watches collectively worth hundreds of dollars. He stood up from his bench, scanning the crowded room. Nobody was eating in a way that struck Nicholas as especially criminal.

“Sit down and eat your breakfast,” instructed Seiji.

“It’s hard to eat when there could be a master criminal eating breakfast with us!”

Eugene choked.

“I guess they can’t be master criminals if they’ve practically already been discovered, can they?” Nicholas continued. “Master criminals are never discovered.”

“That seems true,” Seiji murmured.

Eugene leaned against Julian’s shoulder, as though he feared he might swoon.

Nicholas ignored Eugene’s delicate sensibilities in order to focus on Seiji’s plate. Seiji’s breakfast remained disappointing. “Next time you should get some more bacon. I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.”

“I don’t eat more than a single slice of bacon and you shouldn’t, either,” Seiji told him. “Excessive bacon will make your arteries clog and slow your progress on the piste. Your extraordinary speed is the only thing you have going for you.”

Nicholas preened. “Oh, my extraordinary speed, is it?”

“Shut up,” said Seiji.

“Quit gushing over me, ’m getting all bashful,” said Nicholas.

He tried to steal Chad’s bacon, but Chad shook his head. “Bro, no. I like you, but I’m still growing.”

Nicholas had to be content with his own bacon. At this rate, he might starve at the weight lifters’ table.

All around them, floating up to the ears of the painted dude with whiskers and a (probably not stolen) watch chain on the wall, the whispers of Kings Row rose.

By nightfall, the whole school was buzzing with reports of a hidden cache of stolen goods. Eugene seemed on the verge of nervous collapse. Seiji had the faintly smug look of the cat who got the canary and maybe a fencing trophy.

Nicholas was starting to suspect that something weird might be going on.

24: AIDEN

The next morning, despite the fact he was still weak, Aiden permitted Harvard to drag him out of bed and even suggested that they should sit with the rest of the fencing team. This was partly to make Harvard smile, and partly because Aiden was eager to get the lowdown.

“Good news, freshmen, we’re gracing you with our presence,” Aiden announced, dumping his tray on the table surrounded by fencers and two unfortunates who had apparently given up on life and decided to be Nicholas Cox’s friends.

“Lucky,” murmured one of the Bens—or was it Bins? Bons? Ben seemed more likely—passing by the table and casting Aiden a