Carrier of the Mark

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Authors: Leigh Fallon
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me.”
    “Have you been reading Stephen King again?” he asked, laughing. He threw his arm over my shoulders and changed the subject. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you much at dinner. How’s school been?”
    “It’s fine. I wish people would stop talking about my stupid drowning incident, though.”
    He chuckled. He knew I despised being the center of attention.
    “Caitlin was talking about going into Cork City tomorrow. Can I go with her?”
    “Sure. You haven’t been outside of Kinsale since we got here, and you need to learn how to get around.”
    “Great! I’ll let Caitlin know I can go. Thanks, Dad.”
    “Come on. Let’s get back to the car; it’s getting cold,” he said, pulling me closer. “Did you see how tall that guy from the guards was?”
    “I did. He was pretty hard to miss. And it’s pronounced Guard-ee , Dad. The ‘i’ with the fada on it is pronounced ee .”
    “Since when do you know so much about the Irish language?”
    “Since I discovered half the population of the school has unpronounceable names,” I said, laughing.

Seven
CORK CITY
    H e walked toward me, holding me in his gaze, his eyes wide with intensity. His pupils were dilated black and deep, ringed by a circle of yellow that fanned into the green that made up his irises. The green was enclosed by a thin black ring, encasing all that intensity, holding it there. They shimmered. I tried to take a step forward and realized I was underwater. He held out his hand to me. I couldn’t grasp it.
    “Don’t leave me,” I screamed over and over. My head was swirling. “Come back.”
    “I’m here, Meg, don’t worry,” my dad said, sitting at my bedside. Confused, I glanced around the room. It was a hospital room.
    “You came back to me… I thought I lost you,” he said, smiling at me with sad eyes.
    My eyes flickered behind him. The gray monk stood there with a hand on my dad’s shoulder. His eyes gazed at me softly and he smiled gently before dissipating into a shimmering mist.
    I threw myself forward and nearly tumbled out of bed. My breath was ragged, my head disoriented. Glancing around, I saw that I was back in my bedroom at home. A dream. It was only a dream.
    Breathing a sigh of relief, I allowed my head to drop back onto my feather pillow. My damp hair clung to my cheeks and I rubbed it off in irritation and threw back the duvet. Needing air, I crawled out of the bed and opened the window. It blew fresh and salty onto my clammy face, and I breathed deep as the memories of my encounter with Adam last night washed over me.
    “Good morning,” I croaked at the crow who was sitting on my windowsill, as I’d known he would be. He cocked his head and bowed it a little, then flew away. “See you later, Winky.” I watched him soar down toward the harbor, until he was just a dot in the distance.
    My cell phone vibrated on my bedside table with a message from Caitlin.
On my way! Will be at your place in ten. Be ready.
    Crap! I’d better hurry. I chucked on what I was wearing last night, giving it a quick sniff to make sure it didn’t smell like fish; then I pulled on my Converse and ran down the stairs. I gasped in horror as I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Whoa, hair. Calm yourself . I quickly pulled it into a ponytail and slicked on some lip gloss and mascara. Just as I was finishing up, there was a knock at the door.
    “Hi,” Caitlin sang, sticking her head into the hall. “Bring your raincoat; it’s starting to drizzle.”
    On the way out, I noticed a white envelope with my name on it. Inside there was a wad of euros and a little note.
    Have some fun on me!
     
    Dad, you’re the best , I thought as I pocketed the cash.
    “Let’s go,” I said, and pulled the door firmly behind me.
    “The bus will be here in ten minutes, so we’d better leg it. Jennifer’s meeting us in Cork. She went in with her dad earlier.” We set off quickly down the hill and made it just in time.
    “So … how was dinner

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