Van Bender and the Burning Emblems (The Van Bender Archives #1) (17 page)

“I have to do this,” I said.

“Why?”

I thought about it for several seconds, and it hit me.

It wasn’t just about rebelling. My parents had coddled and protected me for so long that I didn’t know if I could make good choices. I didn’t know if I could do things on my own. I needed to show Mom that I could make decisions and accomplish things without her help. I was capable, competent.

Wasn’t I?

I needed to find out. Even if it meant maybe hurting them a little. Or a lot. By my purposeful acting against their wills, all of us could learn to trust that I knew what was best for me.

Instead of explaining all of that, I said, “So they don’t erase my memory again.”

Sandra nodded. “Okay. Do it.”

I flicked the lighter with my thumb. It lit. My heart pounded.

I glanced at Kurt and Sandra. They watched with wide eyes. Had I looked so amazed at the first spell I’d seen? It seemed like a year ago, but had only been six or so hours.

“Now what?” Kurt said.

“There’s nothing to it,” I said with a shrug. “I just light it.”

“Get on with it!” Sandra said.

The note instructed me to think of Nick when I lit the brink, therefore it made sense that I should think of Marti if I wanted to contact her. So I did as I touched the flame to the brink. It caught fire and the flames spread around the oval and up the squiggly line. In about one second, they met at the top.

I waited for something to go wrong. For my eyeballs to turn into golf balls, or something.

A humming sheet of white light filled the oval. Marti’s face appeared. Her head laid on a pillow, eyes shut.

The spell had worked. I’d cast my first spell successfully, on my first try. I was a natural.

So much for the danger.

I grinned at Sandra and Kurt. If my parents weren’t in the house, I would have done something fun to wake Marti up. You know, shouted really loud. Or made a sound like an alarm. But instead I just said her name quietly.

Her eyes opened and looked directly into my face. She hadn’t been asleep. Just pretending.

“Richie!” Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“How do I zip out of here?”

She sat up in her bed. The oval followed her movement like a camera just a few feet in front of her face.

“How are you even casting this spell?”

I didn’t know how much time we had.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I need your help. How do I zip out of here?”

Her brow furrowed. “Where are you?”

“In my bedroom.”

“In Malibu?”

I was vaguely aware of Sandra stiffening next to me. I tried not to think about what it might mean that Marti knew where I lived.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Have you set up a receiving door?” Marti said.

“What’s a receiving door?”

She growled and shook her head. “Then you can’t get out of there.”

I held up the square-inch metal cube. “I have this.”

“Where did you get that?”

“Nick.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have time right now. We want to get out of here.”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Kurt said. He stepped next to me and leaned his head next to mine. “
We
want to get out of here.”

Marti’s eyes widened. “Who the freak is he?”

Sandra leaned in on my other side. “I’m going with him, too.”

Marti’s face grew even more alarmed. “How many people are there?”

Marti’s near-panic didn’t bother me. I just liked having my old buddies along with me, standing by my side.

“I’ll explain everything once you help us get out of here.”

“There’s only one way,” she said. “You’ll have to use my zip code.”

“What? 90210?”

“No, my zip code. It’s an emblem you draw in the air, and it allows me to zip to wherever it’s drawn. I can zip into your room. Very expensive to register with Intersoc. Quite a luxury.”

“Oh, aren’t you special,” Kurt said.

I jabbed his ribs with my elbow. “Okay, what’s the shape?”

“Let me show you.”

She leaned over in her bed and turned on a light. The video spell followed her, so I could watch her grab a vial of orange brink out of her nightstand. She got up from her bed and drew a shape in the air right in front of her face. It had a star connected to two parallel vertical lines on top.

“Eight spikes,” she said. “You have to get them exactly right, or the spell won’t work. One at each major point on a compass, then four more between.”

“Is that a spur?” Kurt said.

Marti grinned and nodded. “Exactly.”

“Cute,” Sandra said. “Very cute.”

“More like lame,” Kurt said.

Marti shot them a dirty look. “Draw the shape in a clear space I can zip into. Eight spikes. Got it?”

I nodded.

She smiled at me. “Excellent. Light it once you have it drawn. Give me one minute, and I’ll zip in. Sit on the bed, so I don’t kill you.”

She swiped her hand across the spell, and it ended. The brink stopped burning, and floated in ashes down to the speckled carpet. It occurred to me to worry about the stain it might leave, but I couldn’t do anything about it right then. We just needed to get out of the house, to a place where we could talk with Marti. Maybe she would know what to do.

“Can you draw that shape?” Kurt said. “It looked pretty complicated.”

“I think so,” I said.

With the smell of burnt cinnamon thick in my nose, I squeezed more purple brink onto my palm. Halfway between my bed and the door, in the open space, I drew the shape. When I’d finished, some brink remained on my palm. Once again, I didn’t know what to do with it, other than close my hand around it.

“That’s not quite right,” Kurt said.

“What?” I held the lighter up to the emblem, unlit.

“That shape. It’s not quite right. The bottom spike doesn’t quite point straight down.”

“Whatever,” Sandra said. “It looks good to me.”

I went ahead and lit the emblem at the bottom. The fire spread along all of the spurs and up the shape.

Kurt frowned. “What happens if the emblem isn’t right? What happens to Marti? Does she get obliterated?” He sounded hopeful.

Worried at the question, I scratched my head. “Not sure.”

Both Kurt’s and Sandra’s eyes widened as they looked at me. They stood near the foot of the bed.

“What?” I said.

Kurt pointed at me. Sandra shook her head.

“Is it bad,” she said, “to get brink all over you?”

The brink! I’d forgotten that I’d left it on my hand and now I’d smeared it all over my face and in the air around me. It tinkled and sparkled in a set of purple scribbled lines.

A hundred terrible scenarios passed through my mind, but nothing as bad as what happened next.

Dad pounded on my door.

“Richie, I smell burned brink. What are you doing?”

Sandra and Kurt darted toward the closet. I leaped across the room, toward the bedroom door—careful to duck under Marti’s zip code. The remainder of the brink on my hand smeared in a squiggly line ending near the door.

“What are you talking about?” I said to Dad.

“I’m sure I smell brink.”

“It’s Mom’s candle!”

I turned the switch on the handle, to lock it. Sandra and Kurt had entered the closet, and its door clicked shut.

“Richie!” He pounded harder, and the handle shook as he tried it. “Richie, open this door!”

“Richie,” Mom said. “Don’t do anything stupid. It’s more dangerous than you think.”

The handle to the door rattled.

“What are you talking about?” I said. “Go away.”

Where was Marti? What was taking her so long? If my parents came in the bedroom right as she zipped in, she could kill one or both of them. Had I drawn the zip code wrong? Had the brink I’d smeared all over the air messed it up?

“Just leave me alone,” I said.

The handle shook, again.

“I’m coming in,” Dad said.

Mom had started to cry. A heavy thud sounded at the door—like a kick.

The door held.

The kick came again. The door still held.

Thank heavens for sturdy doors in fancy Malibu homes. If we’d been in any of our old homes, further south in LA, certainly Dad could have kicked the door in.

“Get the key,” Dad said. “Richie! This isn’t what you should be doing.”

“Don’t come in here! I’m in my underwear!”

“We’re not stupid,” Dad said. “Let us in. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. You don’t know everything that’s going on here.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Richie, it’s bigger than you know. I’m—”

The zip code flared bright, casting a purple glow through the entire room. It lasted only an instant, like a camera flash, accompanied by a loud pop like popcorn popping.

Marti stood in the middle of the floor, between the bed and the door, next to the smear of purple I’d drawn. She had a black purse slung over one shoulder.

She smiled and came toward me, her face relieved. She threw her arms around me and I stood there with wide eyes, arms down by my side, watching over Marti’s shoulder as Sandra and Kurt emerged from the closet. If Sandra hadn’t been there, I’d have returned the embrace with more enthusiasm. It felt good to see Marti. A relief. Aside from Kurt and Sandra, she felt like my only ally in the world.

Amazing, since I’d only first met her a few hours before.

Dad’s voice raised an octave. “Did someone just zip in there?”

He kicked the door again.

Marti disengaged from me and turned around. She started at seeing Sandra and Kurt, and looked back at me as she whispered, “I came just in time, didn’t I?”

“I appreciate that.” To Dad, I shouted, “What are you talking about?”

Marti looked at the purple squiggles in the air, and pointed at the long line toward the door. “That’s not any emblem I know of.”

“It was an accident,” I said.

She nodded and started to draw a zip-door. She’d already had brink in her closed fist. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere we can talk,” I said. “We need to make a plan.”

“And they’re coming?” she said, pointing with her chin at my friends.

Kurt curled his lips in a sneer. “Yes, we are.”

“Come around here,” she said to them. “Hold hands.”

Dad continued to pound on the door as Sandra and Kurt crossed the room and stepped around Marti. Sandra stood between me and Kurt, and took our hands. We watched in silence as Marti drew the door and spikes at each corner. About the time she finished, Dad fell silent as a key clicked as it slid into the doorknob.

“Don’t let him in!” Marti whispered.

I threw my body backward, into the door. Kurt and Sandra joined me.

“Are there people in there with you?” Mom shouted.

“How would there be people in here with me!”

The door handle turned, and it pushed against my back. I leaned harder. So did my friends.

Marti muttered something under her breath and struck her Hello Kitty lighter. In rapid succession, she lit all four spikes. The fire spread up and around the emblem. It seemed to take forever, but in a moment the white sheet of humming light appeared.

Marti reached her hand out to me. I extended my free hand to her, and she pulled me forward.

My weight left the door, followed by Sandra’s and Kurt’s. The door flew open. My parents rushed in.

Chapter 32: We really only have one option

I love it when the boy I have a crush on zips away with me. The problem is when the other girl who likes him comes with us.

-Marti Walker

Marti yanked me into the zip-door. I drew Sandra after me. She dragged Kurt along.

As we stepped into the light, my parents dove for Kurt.

But missed.

They disappeared.

Or rather, I disappeared.

Once again, I was free.

Although, I must admit, I was also in a lot of pain from the zipping.

We stepped out of the zip-door into cool darkness. I stumbled forward as the soft ground gave beneath my feet, and caught myself with one hand—which sunk a few inches into dirt.

Sandra landed on top of me, flattening me to the soil. Kurt collapsed on top of her, pushing my face into the dirt.

“Holy freaking mother of everything holy!” he said. “What the freaking crapola was that? It hurt like a bugger!”

Struggling, I spit dirt out of my mouth and managed to say, “I can’t breathe.”

They scrambled off of me. Kurt continued to moan at the pain of zipping.

Cautious in the dark, spitting dirt out of my mouth, I stood.

“Where are we?” I whispered.

“The safest place on earth,” Marti said, speaking in a normal voice. “I’ll go get the lights. Don’t move.”

I widened my eyes, hoping to see something. Off in the distance, a green “EXIT” sign glowed. It made me feel better, as if only a civilized place would tell you how to get out.

“That really freaking hurt,” Kurt said. “Almost as much as listening to one of Marti Walker’s songs.”

“I heard that,” Marti said from a little ways off.

“Ugh,” Sandra said. She was right next to me in the darkness. “Yeah. Teleporting sucks.”

“It’s not teleporting,” Marti said, her voice distant.

“You get used to it,” I said. “So I hear.”

“What’s it called?” Kurt said. “Zipping?”

“That’s the technical term,” I said.

From a further distance, Marti said, “This is where I
used
to practice.” Her voice echoed as it grew further and further away, and she spoke louder and louder. “My parents are away on the circuit, so there isn’t anyone around. It’s where I come when I want to be alone.”

There was a loud click, and lights went on. Forty feet above us, the lights hummed. Loose dirt covered the ground inside a shoulder-high, rectangular fence about seventy-five yards long and fifty yards wide. On one side, outside of the ring, bleachers rose in several rows, and on the opposite side, Marti stood by two wide doors and a garage door.

It took me a moment to understand where we were, then I remembered Marti’s history before she became a country star. Sandra got it an instant before me.