off. Hattie just shook her head impatiently and hauled Eric away.
That left Peter and me standing alone and facing each other. I wanted to tell him that I hadn’t started the fire, but I doubted that he would believe me.
More than anything I just wanted to go back to my dorm, although I knew that wouldn’t be for some time. The place was a wreck after the stampede that had broken out after the fire. There was food all over the floor, lots of broken plates and glasses, and pools of spilled liquid.
“I’ll go . . .” My voice came out sounding like Gollum’s in
Lord of the Rings
. I cleared my throat. “. . . find a mop,” I finished in a whisper.
C HAPTER
•
T EN
MAGUS
At school on Monday some of the kids in Peter Shaw’s inner circle tried to block my way at the top of the stairs.
“Where’re you going, Katy?” The girl who’d accused me at the party stepped forward. I recognized her wavy red hair. Her name was Becca, I think. She’d never spoken to me before. The others—I guess there were around ten of them—slowly gathered around me so that I was surrounded on three sides, with the stairs behind me. I tried to maneuver past them, but the whole group shifted whenever I moved.
“Maybe you don’t know how we feel here about people who attack little kids,” Becca said.
“While they’re sleeping,” someone added.
“Or setting fires in a crowded place.”
“All our families were there,” another voice put in. It was Verity. She looked pained.
“You could have killed them all.”
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t—”
“You were the only one there without parents.”
I looked around. They were closing in on me. The only way out, it seemed, was down the marble stairway. I backed down one step. Two.
“Did you come here to finish what your mother started?” an earnest-looking boy asked.
“Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?”
“What did Eric Shaw ever do to you?”
“Or to your mom?”
“Did you think changing your name would fool anyone?”
“Snake eyes.”
Three steps. They moved closer. I shuffled backward, teetering. My books tumbled out of my arms, scattering papers all over the stairs below. I was going to fall, I knew. My arms windmilled. The last thing I saw before I lost my balance was Becca’s mouth spread like a toad’s into an expression of malicious satisfaction.
Just when I was sure I was going to end up smeared across those white marble stairs, someone ran up behind me and broke my fall.
Peter.
I don’t know how he managed to keep his balance with me crashing into him. All I knew was that instead of being dead, I was now lying across his arms, so close to him that I could feel the beating of his heart.
He was looking up at the crowd, his gray eyes incandescent with fury. “Why are you doing this?” he shouted, his voice cracking. “She didn’t start that fire, you morons, she put it out!”
My head snapped around. He
knew
?
“And she saved my brother, while the rest of you were running around like a bunch of scared chickens!”
The expressions on the faces of my would-be attackers were more bewildered than menacing now.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, leaning over me.
I nodded as he set me down and helped me pick up my books and papers. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely move my fingers.
“I’ll walk you to class,” Peter said. Then, to make a point, he put his arm around me and led me through the phalanx of bodies at the top of the stairs.
The late bell rang, and Becca and the others dispersed. As we approached my classroom Peter and I were alone in the hall. His arm was still around me, even though there was no one to protect me from.
“I guess I owe you big time,” I said.
“It’s the other way around. I saw what you did Saturday. I should have thanked you then, but I was . . .”
“That’s okay,” I said.
“And . . . I’m sorry I shoved you. It wasn’t what you think. That is . . .” His hands
That left Peter and me standing alone and facing each other. I wanted to tell him that I hadn’t started the fire, but I doubted that he would believe me.
More than anything I just wanted to go back to my dorm, although I knew that wouldn’t be for some time. The place was a wreck after the stampede that had broken out after the fire. There was food all over the floor, lots of broken plates and glasses, and pools of spilled liquid.
“I’ll go . . .” My voice came out sounding like Gollum’s in
Lord of the Rings
. I cleared my throat. “. . . find a mop,” I finished in a whisper.
C HAPTER
•
T EN
MAGUS
At school on Monday some of the kids in Peter Shaw’s inner circle tried to block my way at the top of the stairs.
“Where’re you going, Katy?” The girl who’d accused me at the party stepped forward. I recognized her wavy red hair. Her name was Becca, I think. She’d never spoken to me before. The others—I guess there were around ten of them—slowly gathered around me so that I was surrounded on three sides, with the stairs behind me. I tried to maneuver past them, but the whole group shifted whenever I moved.
“Maybe you don’t know how we feel here about people who attack little kids,” Becca said.
“While they’re sleeping,” someone added.
“Or setting fires in a crowded place.”
“All our families were there,” another voice put in. It was Verity. She looked pained.
“You could have killed them all.”
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t—”
“You were the only one there without parents.”
I looked around. They were closing in on me. The only way out, it seemed, was down the marble stairway. I backed down one step. Two.
“Did you come here to finish what your mother started?” an earnest-looking boy asked.
“Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?”
“What did Eric Shaw ever do to you?”
“Or to your mom?”
“Did you think changing your name would fool anyone?”
“Snake eyes.”
Three steps. They moved closer. I shuffled backward, teetering. My books tumbled out of my arms, scattering papers all over the stairs below. I was going to fall, I knew. My arms windmilled. The last thing I saw before I lost my balance was Becca’s mouth spread like a toad’s into an expression of malicious satisfaction.
Just when I was sure I was going to end up smeared across those white marble stairs, someone ran up behind me and broke my fall.
Peter.
I don’t know how he managed to keep his balance with me crashing into him. All I knew was that instead of being dead, I was now lying across his arms, so close to him that I could feel the beating of his heart.
He was looking up at the crowd, his gray eyes incandescent with fury. “Why are you doing this?” he shouted, his voice cracking. “She didn’t start that fire, you morons, she put it out!”
My head snapped around. He
knew
?
“And she saved my brother, while the rest of you were running around like a bunch of scared chickens!”
The expressions on the faces of my would-be attackers were more bewildered than menacing now.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, leaning over me.
I nodded as he set me down and helped me pick up my books and papers. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely move my fingers.
“I’ll walk you to class,” Peter said. Then, to make a point, he put his arm around me and led me through the phalanx of bodies at the top of the stairs.
The late bell rang, and Becca and the others dispersed. As we approached my classroom Peter and I were alone in the hall. His arm was still around me, even though there was no one to protect me from.
“I guess I owe you big time,” I said.
“It’s the other way around. I saw what you did Saturday. I should have thanked you then, but I was . . .”
“That’s okay,” I said.
“And . . . I’m sorry I shoved you. It wasn’t what you think. That is . . .” His hands
Similar Books
