HEART OF ICE

CHAPTER 14

"What? For how long," Moe asked loudly as we made our way down the sidewalk.

I shrugged my shoulders. "He said until he says so."

"Well, that's just...that..." Moe struggled to find the words he wanted use. I'm not sure what he wanted to say-something cool, no doubt. We weren't that cool though, at least not enough to know what any of the cool slang words were. "Gahh," he exclaimed, throwing a hand up with exasperation. His other hand was keeping his bicycle from falling over.

We rounded a corner, the middle school campus disappearing behind a row of old buildings behind us. My eyes darted left and right, searching uneasily for anything out of place. I was looking for black vans. I was trying to spot the random teenager lingering suspiciously too long in one spot. I was searching for the holes in the air, the heavy, empty spots that pressed against my thoughts and the rippling sea of things I could sense.

"What about Leo," Moe asked. "Is he in trouble?"

"I don't know. And your dad says he doesn't know either."

Moe shook his head. "And who knows when we'll find out."

"I'm going to find out today," I said without looking at Moe.

"Wait-what?"

I didn't say anything as we crossed a street. We were making our way toward the old "Red-Brown" mansion. At least, that's what most people called it. Like "Old Town" itself, that wasn't the place's actual name. For many, the original name had been forgotten and replaced altogether. It was actually called Doelich Manor. Rashalle Mary-Ann Doelich was a wealthy mining heiress who had the grand house built in the 1920's. I had seen some old newspaper articles about it in the last few weeks. Eleanor Crance had lots of that historic stuff in her secluded apartment across the street from my house. I'd been spending a few hours there each week between working at the mall and training with the dwarf brothers. Aunt Meredith was nervous about me spending time alone. I think all of them were. The events of the morning were not going to make that any better.

"I'm going to find out what's going on with Leo today," I said when we were across the street and back on the sidewalk.

"My dad's going to be furious if he finds out."

"Then it's important he doesn't find out," I said slyly.

The walk to the old mansion definitely took longer than the bike ride would have. It was supposed to be a simple trek from the campuses to the aged estate. Then again, the whole day was supposed to be simple. Stupid Chase Paul Briar, I thought bitterly. Once upon a time he was an annoying, sometimes pain-inducing, part of life. He was a menace with minimal consequence. Now, having been swept up in the shadows of Legion and seemingly adopted by its generals, the merry bully, Chase Paul Briar, was absolutely dangerous. His level of menace had climbed to unsettling new levels.

The loud squeak of old, rusted metal suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts. Moe was a few steps ahead of me. He had unlocked and pushed open the narrow gate of heavy, iron bars that was tucked into the century-old wall of reddish-brown bricks and was partially hidden between two of the overgrown evergreen trees that lined the sidewalk.

"You coming," Moe asked, looking at me from over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I said, pushing my bike toward where he was standing.

The afternoon was getting late, the sun sitting low in the sky. Its pale light washed the tall, pointed peaks of the mansion's roof in a glistening, golden hue. Far below them, the massive yard of dried brown grass had turned a straw-like yellow in the waining, winter sunshine. The abandoned lawn opened up before us as we led our bikes down a few cracked, brick stairs from the gate. It was a place I imagined was once very beautiful. But in the eras that have come and gone, as cold shadows creeped out of their lairs and became an almost unstoppable force, the beautiful places were left behind. Those that remained of an old army of light had to focus more on protecting themselves for a time they had hoped would come and less on the little things like landscaping.