“I know him,” Jared says. “He’s one of the Finns.”
It is one of the Finns. I recognize him, too. “What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.”
I stand to get my phone out from under my robes. “We’ve got to get some help.”
“I don’t think we have time,” Jared says, pushing up his sleeves.
“Can you heal him enough?” I ask. “Enough to keep him alive until–”
But Jared just gives me a look, one I can barely describe. It’s regretful and sad, but it’s also stern, like he has no choice.
“Jared?” I say.
He puts his hands on the indie kid.
Light comes from his palms, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen from him before. It’s much brighter, much bigger, and seems almost alive, snaking around the indie kid’s body, disappearing into his wounds, into his mouth and eyes, too. Jared seems to be straining with effort and when he opens his own mouth to gasp, light pours from that, too. There’s a sound that’s half airplane engine, half windstorm–
And then it all stops.
“What the hell was that?” I ask.
Jared looks at me, grim. “The something else.”
The indie kid takes a deep, choking breath and sits up, surprise leaking out everywhere on his face.
He stares at me and Jared like we might be ghosts. “Jared?” he says. “Mike Mitchell?”
“That’s us,” Jared says.
The indie kid looks down at his shirt, torn, dark with blood–
But not a single wound anywhere.
“I don’t think this was supposed to happen,” the indie kid says, amazed. “I think I was supposed to die.”
“You’re welcome,” I say.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Everyone’s supposed to die,” Jared says. “You just weren’t supposed to die right now.”
The indie kid takes a deep breath. “I think you’re wrong about that.” He smiles, shaken. “But I’m glad you are.”
“What happened?” Jared asks.
The indie kid looks at us, remembering. “The Immortals surprised us. They came through the last fissure–” He jumps up, suddenly. “Satchel!”
Jared and I look at each other. “We didn’t find a satchel,” I say.
“No, no.” The indie kid stands. “I can help her now. In fact–”
He runs off towards the parking lot, fast as he can.
“Where are you going?” I shout after him.
“Home!” he shouts back. “I can get something from there! Maybe we can force the fissure to close!”
“Can we help?” Jared says.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to! But thanks!”
He turns and keeps running. We watch him go. “Doesn’t he want to graduate?” I say.
Jared shrugs. “Indie kids,” he says, as if that explains everything.
So here’s what it is. The Gods want Jared to go full-time. With his grandmother retired in her realms and his mother AWOL somewhere raising money for snow leopards, the Gods feel the position has gone unfilled for too long.
They’ve wanted this for quite a while now, it turns out.
“That’s where I’ve been on those Saturdays,” Jared says, as we line up, two-by-two, to proceed to our seats. Jared and I have decided, screw it, we’re going to walk together, and so are Mel and Henna.
What rebels we are. (Still, though.) “Except for the ones lately with Nathan.”