P.C. Cast - Hidden

“I think he’s a cutie patootie,” Stevie Rae said.

“The guy talking to Damien?” Shaylin asked as she joined us.

“Yeah. We think they’re makin’ a date,” Stevie Rae said, still gawking.

“He has soft, pretty colors,” Shaylin said. “Actually, they go real well with Damien’s.”

“What, are their rainbows merging?” Aphrodite snorted sarcastically.

Shaylin frowned. “They don’t have rainbow colors. That’s such a horrible stereotype. They have summer sky colors—blues and yellows. Damien also has some billowy white stuff that looks a lot like cumulus clouds.”

“Oh, for shit’s sake, it has no sense of humor at all,” Aphrodite said.

“Aphrodite, you gotta stop callin’ Shaylin it . It’s not nice,” Stevie Rae said.

“So, for future reference, how not nice is it on the retard-mean-word scale?” She lifted a questioning blond brow at Stevie Rae. “Is it more asstard, fucktard, or old school, hardcore, retard not nice?”

“You’re the High Priestess, but I say answering her at all just encourages her. You know, like what happens when you pick up a screaming toddler—they keep on screaming,” Shaylin said, sounding very matter-of-fact.

All I could think was holy crap, Aphrodite is going to yank her hair out by the roots.

Instead Aphrodite laughed. “Hey, it made a joke! It might actually have a personality.”

“Aphrodite, I think you might be brain damaged,” Stevie Rae said.

“Thank you,” Aphrodite said. “I’m getting on the bus. And I’m timing Gay Boy. If he flirts for more than five more minutes I’m going to—” Her words stopped when she turned toward the bus. My eyes followed her gaze. Shaunee and Erin were standing just outside the bus’s open door. Shaunee looked upset. Erin’s face had no expression on it whatsoever. I could see that they were talking, but we were too far away to hear what they were saying.

“There’s something wrong about her,” Shaylin said.

“Who her?” Stevie Rae asked.

“Erin,” Shaylin said.

“Shaylin’s right. There’s something wrong about Erin,” Aphrodite said.

I couldn’t tell which shocked me more, what Aphrodite and Shaylin were saying, or that they were agreeing.

“Tell me what you’re seein’,” Stevie Rae spoke quietly to Shaylin.

“Here’s the best way I can describe it. There was this culvert that ran behind the house I lived in when I was a kid, just before I lost my sight. I used to play by it and pretend that it was a bubbling, beautiful mountain stream and I was growing up in the Colorado Rockies, ’cause it was clear and even kinda pretty. But the second I got too close to it I could smell it. It stunk like chemicals and something else, something rotting. The water looked good, but under the surface it was dirty, polluted.”

“Shaylin.” I was seriously at the edge of my patience. I felt like I was listening to one of Kramisha’s poems—and that’s not necessarily a good thing. “What in the hell are you saying? Erin is the color of polluted water? And if she is, why didn’t you say something before now?”

“She’s changing!” Shaylin yelled. When faces on the bus, along with Shaunee and Erin, turned their heads toward us, she added, “Winter seems to be changing to Spring! Isn’t it a beautiful night?”

Kids shook their heads and squinched their foreheads at her, but at least they seemed to quit listening.

“Oh, for shit’s sake. You are no good at espionage at all.” Aphrodite lowered her voice and huddled us up. “Z, get a clue. It’s simple. What Shaylin is saying is that Erin looks like she used to—pretty, blond, popular, perfect. You know, typical. But the truth is that under the surface, there’s something rotting. You can’t see it. I can’t see it. But Shaylin can.” Aphrodite glanced over at the bus. We all looked with her in time to see Shaunee shake her head no, and disappear quickly up the black, rubber-treaded stairs while Erin stood there looking beautiful but very, very cold. “Seems like Shaunee might be able to see it, too. Not that we’d believe her. We’d believe she was just pissed at Erin because the Dorkamise Twins have been surgically separated.”

“I think that’s pretty harsh,” I said.

“So do I,” Stevie Rae said. “But my gut’s tellin’ me it’s the truth.”

“Mine is as well,” Damien said, walking up to us. His cheeks were still flushed, and he waved gaily as the Fox 23 van pulled away, but his attention was focused on Erin. “My gut’s telling me something else, too.”

“That you and News Boy are about to become butt-buddies?” Aphrodite’s voice was perky and polite, which was in direct contradiction to what she’d just said.

“ That is none of your business,” Damien said, then transitioned smoothly to, “And you may want to pay attention, Aphrodite. What I’m getting ready to say is going to rock your world.”

“That’s a seriously old saying,” Aphrodite said.

“Old doesn’t equate to inaccurate,” Damien said. “You translated what Shaylin envisioned. That means you’re acting as an oracle.”

“I’m not an effing oracle. I’m a Prophetess.” Aphrodite really looked pissed.

“Oracle—Prophetess,” Damien held up first one hand then the other, as if he was measuring something in each palm and equaling them both out. “Seems the same thing to me. Check your history, Prophetess. Sibyl, Delphi, Cassandra! Do these names not ring a bell with you?”

“No. Seriously. I try not to read too much.”

“Well, I’d start if I were you. They are just the top three of many that come to my well-educated mind. Some name them Oracle. Some call them Prophetess. Same thing.”

“Can I get the short version from the Internet?” Aphrodite was trying to sound like a smartass, but her face had lost all of its color and her eyes looked giant and even more topaz blue than usual. And scared. She looked super scared.

“Okay, well, lesson learned. I say, well done, us!” I piped in perkily. When everyone just stared at me I attempted an explanation. “Thanatos said we had to practice our Gifts. I think what just happened is, like, extra credit for us. How ’bout we get on that bus and go back to the tunnels and watch some Fringe reruns?”

“ Fringe? I’m in,” Shaylin said, and started off toward the bus.

“I like Walter,” Aphrodite said. “He reminds me of my grandpa. Well, except Walter’s a little smarter and is high and crazy versus drunk and sociopathic. Yet oddly they’re both likeable.”

“You have a grandpa? And you like him?” Stevie Rae beat me to the question.

“Of course I have a grandpa. What are you, a biology moron?” Then Aphrodite shrugged. “Whatever. My family is kinda hard to explain. I’m going to follow it on the bus.” And she did. She followed Shaylin.

Stevie Rae, Damien, and I were left alone.

“Crazy Town,” was all I could think to say.

“Indeed,” Damien nodded.

“All right, well, do you think everyone else is on the bus?” I asked.

“I hope so. I know Rephaim’s there, and we only have a couple of hours until sunrise. I can pretty much be sure he’s never seen any episodes of Fringe , and I think he’d like them. Watchin’ DVDs curled up with him sounds real good right now, even if we do have to do it with Crazy Town Aphrodite.” She grinned at me. “Can we order Andolini’s pizza?”

“Totally,” I said.

“Hurrumph…” Damien cleared his throat with staged precision.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Do, um, you guys think it’s awful if I, um, maybe, meet someone for coffee. Late. Tonight. At The Coffee House on Cherry Street?”