No Dominion The Walker Papers - By CE Murphy Page 0,106
the wood spirit had been rising green, but this was her own strength, her own magic. She didn’t want a dark seed at its heart. She imagined her grandfather’s vast power in her own hands, crushing the darkness away.
In an agonizing instant, it winked out. Suzy whimpered.
Kiseko was there all of a sudden, wrapping her arms around Suzy’s shoulders. She was warm and sturdy, not cold and shaking like Suzy was. “You’re okay, Suze. I’m here. You okay? That was crazy,” she said more softly. “That was really brave, Suzy. I didn’t know you had it in you. I’m sorry for messing with magic, all right? I won’t do it again. I don’t want to mess my best friend up. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Suzy croaked the word. “I think so.”
“Good.” Kiseko sat back on her heels just enough to grin lopsidedly at Suzy. “Because we’re going to have to come up with some kind of totally awesome story to explain why you’re here in the middle of this mess. And then we’re gonna have to convince your aunt that since you’re here you might as well stay for the whole weekend, right? And—” She bounced up, bright and cheerful as always, but Suzy caught a glimpse of deeper worry as Kiseko offered a hand. The performance was all for Suzy’s sake, Kiseko’s way of making sure everything seemed normal.
Suzy let Kiso pull her up, then hugged her and did her best to sound light-hearted and frivolous, too. “Localized windstorm. You left the window open and look what happened!”
“That’s a terrible cover story, Suze.”
“Your parents believed the zombie movie thing, didn’t they?”
“Mmrgh.” Kiseko rolled her eyes. “I guess so. And so what, did the windstorm blow you in too?”
“That’d be an awfully big storm. Uh—”
“Suzy! Your aunt called!” Kiseko’s parents, wearing robes and slippers, came down the stairs together and stopped, expressions comically confused at the mess spread around the basement. “She said you were coming up as a surprise for Kiseko’s birthday, but we didn’t expect you so soon…what happened down here?”
Suzy gave Kiseko a wide-eyed look, then smiled at her parents. “I, um, got in way earlier tonight but I was, um, trying to surprise Kiseko so I snuck in and then we, uh, fell asleep? And then the window let in the storm and we were all like ‘Oh god we have to clean this up before Mr and Mrs Anderson see,’ and—but you woke up. Early. Uh. Hi!”
“It must have been the wind that woke us,” Kiso’s mom said to her dad, who frowned at Kiseko. “How many times have I told you to be sure the windows are closed at night?”
“I’m totally sorry, Dad. We’ll get it cleaned up, okay?”
Mr Anderson nodded, appeased, and his wife smiled. “I’m glad nothing was destroyed. It’s good to see you again, Suzy. I’ll make you girls some strawberry waffles in the morning, but we’re going back to bed now.”
Kiso’s parents waved and went back upstairs, leaving the two girls to blink uncertainly at each other. Kiseko finally whispered, “Your aunt called?”
Suzy shook her head. “No way. It’s the magic, or the effect of magic. Making sense of things that don’t make sense. I hope it worked on Aunt Mae, too, or I’ll be grounded until I leave for college.”
“Are you still gonna go to UDub?” Kiseko became light and chipper again as she looked over the wreck of the basement. “Think Mom and Dad will mind if we don’t clean up until morning?”
Suzy gave her a look and Kiso giggled. “Yeah, I thought so. Okay. I’ll get some towels for the water and I’ll scrub up the chalk marks if you can get the branches and things.” She ran off to the bathroom without waiting for an answer, and Suzy picked up the nearest branches. The window was still open, so she pushed the branches through and peered into the darkness, trying to see if Robert had escaped safely.
There was no sign of him, anyway. Instead there were stormclouds on the horizon, colored yellow by Seattle’s lights. They had a dark heart, as dark as the seed she’d burst in her mine. Suzy shuddered. She knew there were other colors out there too, like Detective Walker’s gunmetal silver and blue, but she couldn’t see them, not even when she looked through the other gaze, the one that showed her the possible futures. She should be able to see them. She’d always been able to before. But there was nothing