“You can't kill them back,” Hastings said. “Because by then you'll be dead.”

Jack got the point. “So I suppose I'll have to kill them first.” And Hastings seemed satisfied with that answer.

By the time they'd left the meadow, Jack had fought ten opponents, and his record was six and four.

From then on, Jack and Hastings practiced at the meadow at least twice a week. Sometimes they went on a Saturday, so they could spend more time. Jack was always bruised and exhausted after these bouts, and as the weather grew warmer, he discovered that fighting was hot and thirsty work.

Hastings never pressured him again to finish off someone he'd disabled, but Jack gave and received some serious blows in the heat of the fight, some of which were “mortal” on both sides.The cuts he survived were painful when he received them, so he assumed his opponents felt the same. Once the bout was over, however, nothing remained but the aches and pains. Part of the rules of the summoning, Hastings explained. The wizard carried a bottle of fiery liquid he gave Jack to drink once or twice after a particularly difficult bout. It killed the pain remarkably well, though Jack suspected it didn't comply with Trinity High School's zero tolerance drug and alcohol policy.

His record was continually improving, although Hastings always seemed to have new challenges to throw at him. Sometimes he fought two or three warriors at a time. Sometimes, his opponents were women. That took some getting used to, but he found those bouts were as tough as any of his other fights. Once, he fought a teenager only a little older than he was. He was in a more modern style of dress, perhaps from the nineteenth century. Jack disarmed him fairly quickly.

“He was pretty young,” he commented to Hastings. “And poorly trained.”

“Yes, he was,” Hastings replied.

“Are warriors often as young as me?” Jack asked.

“And younger,” said Hastings grimly. And he would not say more about it. Jack had quit asking questions about a lot of things. He still didn't understand how learning to fight with a sword would protect him from his wizard enemies. It wasn't as if he could walk around Trinity with a sword on his hip. He felt that he was being prepared for some kind of challenge, but had no idea what. More and more it seemed like his life was under the control of others, particularly Hastings. Aunt Linda had abandoned him. He felt like a schizophrenic, with a foot in each of two worlds: the exquisite normalcy of school and the risk and mystery of the Weirworld. Dull acquiescence seemed to alternate with a bright anger that was more and more difficult to control.

His love life was out of control, too, and at the same time totally unsatisfactory. Although Leesha was officially going out with Lobeck, it seemed Jack was back on her A-list. She never missed an opportunity to come on to him, no matter who was around. As a result, Jack was on Lobeck's list, too. A different list.

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Ellen seemed as stressed and preoccupied and touchy as Jack. She'd stepped up her skills clinics with the team as the season progressed, drilling them with an increasing intensity. She and Hastings functioned like competing assistant coaches.

And then several things happened in rapid succession right at the end of the school year that put the new cadence of his life in disarray.

Chapter Ten

The Street Fight

Soccer season ran into June, and the Trinity varsity team made the playoffs. Jack was a starter, playing midfielder and forward. Will played defense, and Fitch played goalie and midfield. The district championship game against Benjamin Harrison High School was scheduled the same night as Leesha's birthday party. Jack contributed the winning goal from midfield, but twisted his ankle. The final score was three to two.

The locker room emptied out quickly, since most of the team was going to Leesha's party. Jack took his time, because he wasn't particularly eager to get there. By the time the trainer finished wrapping Jack's ankle and he had showered and dressed, he was alone. The party was a few blocks west, at the Lakeside Club. Jack limped to the parking lot, wishing he'd thought to catch a ride, and not looking forward to the walk to Leesha's.

Someone stepped out of the shadows in the entryway of the building. Jack flinched and brought up his hands up in defense.

“Jack! It's me.” It was Ellen. She stood with her back to the lamppost, her face in shadow.

“What are you still doing here? Everyone's gone.”

“I wanted to … to say good game, Jack.You were awesome.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.” He felt inordinately pleased. “I wasn't sure if you'd come.”

She rolled her eyes, as if to say, Duh! “How's your ankle?”

“It'll do. Be a little stiff, I guess.” He rotated his foot to demonstrate.

“That's good.” She straightened then, and said briskly, “Well, good night.” She turned to go.

“Wait,” Jack called. Ellen swung back around. “When can we get together?”

She glanced around, as if she thought he might be talking to someone else. “Get together?”

“Yeah, you know. Hang out. Now that soccer season's over, we'll both have more time.”

She shrugged. “What are you doing now?”

“I … ah … was going to Leesha's party.”

“Happy birthday, Leesha.” She turned away again.

Jack caught her arm. “Let's do something else.”

She stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets, rocking back on her heels, looking down her long nose at him. “Are you serious? Isn't she expecting you?”

“Look, give me a break, Ellen. Leesha and I are not together. She totally creeps me out.”

Ellen looked down at her feet and pushed a rock around with the toe of her sneaker. Then she looked up and smiled crookedly. “All right.What do you want to do?”

Jack cast about for ideas. “I could walk you home.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You're injured.”

“I'll lean on you.”

If Jack leaned on Ellen more than was strictly necessary, she didn't object.

The air was soft and muggy as they exited into the parking lot, promising summer ahead. Ellen and Jack walked down Bank Street and headed for the square. Jack realized he didn't even know where Ellen lived.

“I live close to the lake,” she explained when he asked. “On Walnut. In one of those apartment buildings.”

They walked on in silence for half a block, moving slow, though Jack's ankle was loosening up.

“What do you want to do when you graduate?” Ellen asked. “If you could do anything you wanted.”

“Me?” Jack thought a moment. “Well, I used to think I'd sail around the world.”

“Are you a sailor?”

Jack nodded. “My dad and I used to sail all the time. He lives in Boston now. He has a sailboat there, and we're talking about building another.”

“You must be close to your dad.”

“Not really. I haven't seen him for nearly a year.” Ellen didn't question him further, which was one of the things he liked about her. “Have you ever been sailing?”

She shook her head.

“I'll take you sometime this summer, if you want. I mean, I guess I'm going to be in England for most of the summer, but—”

“England!” She stared at him. “Are you going with Mr. Hastings?”

“No, my mother is teaching a course there. Something about British influences on Appalachian culture. What about Hastings?”

“He's taking the Chaucerian Society on a tour. Will and Fitch are going. I thought you knew.”

Jack shook his head. He really was losing touch. “What about you? Aren't you going?”

She shook her head. “No, I can't go. I'm going to be away all summer. At camp.” She released a long breath and looked up at him, as if debating whether to go on. “I might not be back in the fall.”

Jack felt like his insides were collapsing. “What? Why not?”

“My dad's on temporary assignment with Ohio Power.” Ohio Power had a plant just outside Trinity. “The time is about up. So we'll most likely be going.”

He stopped walking and turned to her. “Ellen. I'm sorry. That sucks.”

“I wanted to tell you before. I've known for a while.” She shrugged. “We've moved around a lot. I'm used to it.”

Jack had always thought that living all his life in a place where everyone knew his history was a disadvantage. Now he wasn't so sure. “You'd think he could stay in one place until you graduate, at least.”

“Yes, well.” She shook her head. “I wonder if we'll ever see each other again.”

Jack's own future looked a bit cloudy at the moment. “We have till I leave for England, at least. We'll try and make the most of it.”

By now they had crossed the square and turned on to Lake Avenue.

“Do you know how to dance?” she asked as they reached the public beach parking lot. He looked up, startled by the question. She rushed ahead. “I mean, I don't know how to dance, and I thought if you knew how, maybe you could teach me. Or if you don't know how, maybe we …”

She stopped in midsentence. Jack looked up to see someone in the parking lot. Three someones. It was Garrett Lobeck and his two friends, Harkness and Leonard. They were leaning against a pickup truck with an open case of beer in the bed.

“Well, if it isn't the hero of the game,” Lobeck sneered. “We looked for you at the party. Wanted to make a toast.” He finished what appeared to be the latest of many beers, crumpled the can in his fist, and tossed it on the ground. He fished another out of the case and Jack heard the “poosh” as he opened it. “Leesha was looking for you, too. She was really pissed.”

“Oh. Well. See you tomorrow,” Jack said. He nodded to Harkness and Leonard, who were on the varsity team. “Good game.”

He took Ellen's arm and started to make a circle around the trio, but Lobeck moved into Jack's path. “Who do you think you are? Your cheap shot kept me off the varsity team.”




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