A Rational Magic || ONC2022

Two || Thinking, Not Doing

It's one of those half-comfortable, half-uncomfortable silences that gets us most of the way from Nalwick to Ercaster. Anya finishes her book right as we stop, which is either weirdly good planning or a happy accident.

I don't care which it is, though. We're early enough, and while Anya goes to get something from the vending machine at the other end of the platform, I've got time to people-watch.

For example, there's a man and a boy a little further down the platform. While I assume they're related, there's always the chance, isn't there?

There's always something interesting going on in a busy place like this one. And since I can't see Anya from where I'm sitting, I have to assume she's wandered off to look somewhere else as well. We've got a bit of time to spare, and she might just want to inspect the WHSmith.

I don't think it's an impossible trip. Up the stairs, the bridge over the tracks, down and in, before all of that backwards. And since the four o'clock is almost ten minutes late... yeah, she'll be okay.

I'm watching the shop more than the people now, though. Which is much more boring. Making stories up in your head about a shop you can't exactly see much of is extremely difficult.

But I suppose it's possible.

Maybe there's like a secret portal — bookshops are known for that sort of thing in several stories I've read — to another world. More to Anya's tastes, maybe a murder was committed there once.

Honestly, anything could have happened. Probably more likely that it was a murder, but hey, the point of stories is that they're fictional. They aren't real.

I sit like that for a while, one eye on the clock and the rest of my focus in the world of fiction. Because there's nothing else to pay attention to, really. Just people doing things, and I'd really rather not freak myself out over whether this boy is actually this man's kid or not. Or like a nephew or something.

He's probably our age, if I had to guess, maybe a bit older, and it doesn't make me feel better about letting Anya go off alone.

And he's seriously... like, they don't actually look much alike, if I really look. I don't know what I could do about it, but-

Oh, that's Anya.

Walking right up to them like a crazy person.

I can't hear their conversation, but it's not going too badly. I mean, Anya looks pretty calm.

And then she shoves something at the boy and begins to scream.

Against all logic (which, in fairness, is Anya's thing anyway), I'm on my feet within seconds, leaving our bags behind in favour of working out what just changed.

The sound is certainly a great attention-grabber — everybody is looking at them — and there are also adults on their way over.

"Oh God, are you alright?" is the first thing out of Anya's mouth when I almost crash into her, pulling her into a hug like nothing we've done before. I am scared, the fear chilling me right to my bones, and yet she is alright, and she is worried about me.

"What happened?"

"Logical ruse," she whispers, so only I can hear, and then continues shouting.

I'm listening to words now, not just endless high-pitched shrieking, and they are as cold as the fear.

And I take a moment to study the boy (holding a WHSmith bag, which has to be what Anya shoved at him), and the man, and both have very different expressions on their faces. The boy looks relieved, mostly, while the man is just... angry, I think, but it could be fear.

Which, honestly, I hope he's scared. Because Anya is yelling "Kidnapper!" and I'm sure that's actually a police officer making their way over.

The man moves his hand towards his pocket, and again, I react, in a way that I never would normally.

I am a thinking sort of person, not a doing. This is Anya's expertise, not mine, and yet I am moving.

My grip on the boy's wrist is probably enough to bruise. He doesn't care, and neither do I. This man is a danger to him more than anyone else right now, I think, and I've got to get him away.

(He could have run on his own. I know that. But when you're in the moment, you forget that other people can think for themselves.)

And so we're running, me pulling him along and around a couple kissing way too passionately, flying along the platform as shouts and screams echo behind us. Nobody makes a move to stop us, and I don't make an effort to turn around.

What a start to a peaceful holiday, huh?

When there's nowhere left to run, when we're forced to stop, I remember the bags. And the train, which by my reckoning...

"Ten minutes," the boy mutters, staring at his wrist. A watch, obviously, but that doesn't matter.

I lean over to take a look and realise that yeah, it is ten minutes until our train should arrive. Which either means this kid is also getting the train to Terrenfell, or at least the train that goes to Terrenfell, or he's a mind reader.

Personally, I prefer the latter option, but this is unfortunately real life.

He's probably not a mind reader.

"What's your name?"

"Hm?" he frowns, giving me an odd look. His eyes are an odd... almost red sort of grey, but then again Anya and I both have different coloured eyes so I can't really say much. "You'll laugh."

"I won't. Anyway, I'm Lani, and I believe my sister gave you that."

"I figured you were twins," he says with a nod, handing me the bag. "You will laugh, though. It's Mercury."

"Mercury?"

"Mercury Harker." He's bracing himself for me to laugh, I can tell, but I don't.

It is a pretty awful name to give a child, but there are significantly worse ones. So really, it doesn't matter.

"And is that man-?"

"Mr Kerrigan? No, I don't know who he is. He just... I don't know. I'm just lucky we were going to the same place, I guess." His gaze drops to the floor, and there's an awkward silence.

I fill it before I can start worrying too much.

"Which is...?"

There's a glint in those funny eyes of his when he looks back up at me. I'm not sure if I like it.

"Terrenfell."

And that's when I know that this is not going to be a normal stay at Aunt Jessica's.