The Tethering: The Complete Collection

5. Sounds in the Night

5

Sounds in the Night

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “All right,” Jacob said to himself with much more confidence than he felt. “I can totally do this. She wouldn’t assign me an impossible task.” But he couldn’t quite figure out how to go about saving the tree.

It needed to make chlorophyll, which required light, water, and air. Maybe he could find a watering can and some fertilizer. He had done plenty of yard work back home whenever money ran out.

Samuel had actually been the one who taught him how to take care of plants when the Grays still lived in Fairfield. Samuel had never used magic for gardening. At least Jacob didn’t think so. Jacob pushed his palms into his eyes and rubbed hard.

“I need to rethink my entire childhood. There must have been magic in Emilia’s house. I was just too stupid to notice.”

Maybe the tree had a bug problem. But he doubted the answer was so dull. He searched the clearing for a clue, a sign of some sort, but found nothing. Finally, after several minutes of fruitless scouring of the grass, he sat cross-legged on the ground and stared at the poor tree.

Hours passed. Jacob tried asking the tree for suggestions. The tree was unhelpful. Jacob’s limbs ached from sitting for so long, so he started pacing in wide circles around the tree. When his feet got tired, Jacob tried closing his eyes and picturing the tree strong and healthy. Again he tried asking the tree what would make it feel better. But it was no good. He had no idea how to heal a tree by magic.

In an act of sheer desperation, he tried singing to the tree. His off-key rendition of I’ve Been Working on the Railroad did nothing.

Finally, when the sun had begun making its way back down, a voice carried up the path calling him in for the night.

Claire waited for him on the veranda, smiling mischievously. “Good first day?” she asked as she led Jacob back into the house.

“Yeah.” Jacob tried to sound at least a little cheerful.

“Liar.” Claire’s extremely blond left eyebrow climbed very high on her forehead. “Don’t worry. I did tons of magic by accident before I came here, and it still took me forever to be able to do anything I actually wanted to do. You’re not stupid. It’s just hard.”

“Thanks, Claire,” Jacob said, feeling a little better. Voices drifted from the dining room, and he stopped Claire right before they walked in. “But could you do me a favor?”

“Don’t tell Dexter you’re having trouble?” Claire smirked. “Sure.” She walked into the dining room, giggling.

“Jacob.” Professor Eames stood up at one end of the table. “Please choose a seat.”

Jacob looked around the table. There was an open seat next to Samuel and one next to Dexter.

Dexter looked at Jacob and nodded.

Jacob clenched his fists and took a breath before sitting next to Samuel, where he would be less likely to cause a major incident. Like a falling chandelier.

The entire household was at the table, except for Emilia. She was probably still stuck in her room.

“Greens first,” Aunt Iz said to Connor from her seat at the head of the table.

“Yes, ma’am.” Connor reluctantly replaced the dish of cheese-smothered potatoes.

“Professor Eames,” Dexter said after placing a large portion of salad onto his plate, “I read an article on the Siren Theory and its implications in the ability of wizards to impose paradoxical travel on those around them, as well as its possible connection to the 1892 smugglers’ brigade disappearance. I was wondering if you might have any insight.”

The conversation flowed like dry mud during dinner. Professor Eames and Dexter engaged in a lively discussion, with Aunt Iz inserting important concepts Jacob didn’t understand. Molly and Samuel joined in occasionally, and Claire and Connor both seemed to follow along, nodding in all the right places. Jacob felt lost and in way over his head. As dinner came to an end, everyone helped bring the dishes to the kitchen before going to the living room.

Jacob took a seat on a comfy couch off to the side, and Dexter followed him.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Dexter sat on the arm of the couch Jacob had chosen. “I always look forward to our dinner discussions. They are so enlightening. Did you enjoy the subject tonight?”

“Sure.” Jacob forced a smile. “But I’m really wiped, so I’m gonna go.”

He stood and walked out of the room, barely pausing to wave to Aunt Iz and Samuel, who were deep in conversation at a small table in the corner.

Dexter must have known he didn’t understand a damn thing they’d said at dinner. Jacob climbed the stairs to his room, trying not to give in to the temptation to give one of the stairs a good kick. A broken toe wouldn’t make him feel much better. He was too tired to be social anyway. Emilia was still banished to her room, and she was the only one he really wanted to talk to.

Jacob found his room and slammed the door. He winced at the sound, hoping no one downstairs had heard. Jacob tried lying on his bed, but he couldn’t seem to breathe. This was too much, far too much to deal with in one day. His father was dead, he had left the only home he had ever known, and he was a wizard.

He rolled onto his back and rubbed his face with both hands. Emilia was back. She was a witch. She had come back because he was a wizard. He knew he should be grieving. He should be scared. He had essentially dropped out of high school. He didn’t know when he would be going back to Fairfield High. Or if.

Jacob pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes. He needed air.

High school dropout, orphan, incompetent wizard.

Jacob’s bedroom windows were open, wafting in the cool evening breeze. He followed the fresh air to the window and squeezed himself through onto the slanting shingles of the roof. He sat, breathing deeply and trying to muddle through the last thirty-six hours of his life. Stars emerged from the darkness. Even though Fairfield was a small city, it still didn’t have as many stars as Jacob could see from here. The trees rustled as unseen creatures prowled through the night. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine centaurs pacing through the woods.

The centaurs screamed at him, calling him a terrorist. Jacob’s eyes snapped open when one of the centaurs threw a spear at him. He shook the fantasy from his mind and tried to focus on the real world around him. His mind was too jumbled right now to let it wander. He listened again to the sounds of the night. There was a new noise, a strange noise, and it was on the roof. A scraping sound, like claws pulling across the shingles, moving closer. He looked over and froze. Someone was coming toward him, not clawing the roof, but walking on the air.