Dianne Salerni - The Eighth Day

Huh, imagine if she knew how much of a freak he really was.

An automated response from the Between Wednesday and Thursday website suggested Jax “check online assistance between the hours of 3–5 pm.” He signed in and found the link for tech support. A chat window opened within seconds.

terrance: yo jaxattax. what u need?

jaxattax: cant access discussions

terrance: reload page

jaxattax: already did

terrance: must b glitch. sign on w/family account till i check

Jax felt the usual punch in the gut he got whenever somebody mentioned family . But he was learning to use it to his advantage.

jaxattax: no family. thats the problem

terrance: no family on forum? new members welcome.

jaxattax: no family period. thats why i need forum

terrance: sorry. u newly turned & no family 2 help?

jaxattax: yup

terrance: where you live?

Now Jax paused.

terrance: just the state, not yr address. im not a creep. there r groups 4 newly turned kids. maybe one in yr area.

jaxattax: PA

terrance: ill check PA & work on fixing yr account.

jaxattax: thx

He closed the chat window and looked at the list of discussions he couldn’t get into. He was attracted and repulsed by the idea of a group for kids like himself. Part of him wanted to talk to somebody besides Riley; another part screamed, Don’t make yourself more of a freak! After a few seconds, his attention was drawn to some of the discussions topics.

• Niviane’s Enchanted Forest: Was It a Real Place?

• Locus of the Spell: Stonehenge or Pentre Ifan?

He knew what Stonehenge was but opened up a new window to check out Pentre Ifan, which turned out to be some other standing stones in Wales. Then he Googled Niviane , but the name was connected to Merlin the wizard and didn’t seem related to the eighth day. He leaned back. Hadn’t he overheard A.J. and Deidre mention a name to Riley? Everett? Emory? Emris? Jax sat up and started typing.

According to a baby name site, Emris meant “immortal, undying.” But when Jax tried the alternate spelling Emrys , Google took him right back to the site he’d already seen for Niviane : Merlin. One of the ancient names for the wizard was Merlin Emrys. And Niviane, depending on which version of the legend he read, had been either Merlin’s girlfriend, apprentice, or betrayer. Possibly all three.

Jax stood up and walked into the living room. A.J.’s huge carcass lay sprawled on the recliner, a soda can resting on his belly. This felt like asking Jeopardy! questions of a dog, but what the heck? “A.J., what do you know about Niviane?”

“She was the Lady of the Lake,” A.J. replied.

“And she trapped Merlin in an eternal forest?”

“She didn’t trap him.” A.J. belched. “He volunteered to go, for the good of everybody. There wasn’t any other way to stop the Kin. That’s why they created the eighth day in the first place.”

“You’re telling me they were real people?”

A.J. sat up and turned to face Jax. “Has Riley told you any of this?”

Jax ignored the question. “Are the legends real or not?”

“Yes. No.” A.J. looked confused. “The people were real. The legends are crap.”

“Who’s this Emrys that you were talking to Riley about?” Jax tried to think back to what he’d heard after they’d tattooed him. “Does this have something to do with the girl next door?”

A.J. frowned. His mouth opened and closed a few times while he crushed the can in his hand. Soda squirted from the top. “Yeah, she’s the—”

“Don’t answer that, Crandall. Jax, what are you doing?”

Riley stood at the front door. A.J. pointed at Jax, but Riley interrupted him when he tried to explain. “Jax, ask Crandall for the PIN number on his debit card.”

A.J. protested, “Hey!”

“Go on,” Riley insisted. “Ask him.”

Jax’s stomach clenched. “What’s the PIN number on your debit card, A.J.?”

For three seconds, A.J.’s face grew bright red while he pressed his lips together. Then he burst out “Nine one six oh four,” and clapped his hand over his mouth.

Riley laughed. “Well, that was fast.”

JAX GAPED ATthe two of them, afraid to say anything else.

A.J. counted on his fingers. “It’s only been five days since we marked him,” he said to Riley. “It usually takes at least ten and a couple more visits to Grunsday.”

Riley pulled the door closed. “He’s older than most newbies. Or maybe it’s the nature of his talent.”

“He’s pretty strong,” A.J. said. “Even when I realized, I couldn’t stop talking.”

“What did I do?” Jax asked, repulsed and fascinated all at once.

“Apparently,” said Riley, “you figured out how to use your bloodline magic all on your own.”

Jax shook his head. First Grunsday, then a tattoo, and now this? “What’s bloodline magic?”

Riley drew his dagger out and balanced it on his left palm. Jax recognized the gesture from the night of the tattoo and started to back away, but Riley ordered, “Sit down and shut up.”

Jax’s knees folded, and his butt hit the chair before he knew what was happening. His lips clamped shut.

Then he started struggling.

Gripping the chair with both hands, he tried to push himself to his feet. His sneakers scrabbled on the carpet. He clenched his jaw but couldn’t force his mouth open.

Riley watched for several seconds. Then he slid the dagger into its sheath. “Okay,” he said. “You can talk.”

“You jerk!” gasped Jax.

Riley shrugged. “It was the quickest way to demonstrate.”

“There’s no such thing as magic!” It came out as a wail, a last-ditch effort to hang on to reality as he knew it.

“ Of course there is. What did you think Grunsday was?” Riley threw out his arms. “It was magic that made Grunsday and trapped an entire race of people inside it. And it was magic you were using on Crandall when I came in, forcing him to answer your questions.”

“You should’ve told him before now,” A.J. said.

“I was telling him a little at a time, so he wouldn’t freak out.”

“Good job.” A.J. hooked a thumb toward Jax, who was still wriggling in his chair.

“Oops,” Riley said. “You can get up, Jax.”

Jax shot out of his chair and across the room, as far from Riley as he could get. He wanted to bolt out the front door and keep running. His heart was pounding and his muscles were coiled, but he fought the urge for flight. If he ran, he’d never get any answers. “Can you make me do anything you want?” he croaked. And in the back of his mind, he wondered, Can I do the same to you?

“It has limits, and most of my commands are temporary or wear off in time, so—” Riley broke off his explanation, seeming to realize how scared Jax was. “Jax, I swore an oath to your father I’d protect you. So please. Sit down and let me explain.”

Jax flinched but didn’t feel compelled to sit.

“You’re an inquisitor,” Riley said, “and a pretty strong one, developing this much on your own.”

“A quality tattoo makes a difference,” A.J. pointed out.

“True,” Riley said. “Crandall’s an artisan. His talent for designing marks probably enhanced your natural skill. Your talent is the same as your father’s: forcing other people to give you information. Although, as you can see”—he waved his hand to indicate the distance between the two of them—“when someone realizes you’ve compelled them against their will, there’s usually a side effect of making them pretty hostile.”