Paying the Piper

Thirty-Five: The Fallout

The world was saved from Dorian Gray, but the world hadn't even realized the threat. Only six people had been aware of the danger, and we six would never return to how we had been before, not entirely.

Dealing with parents seemed a cruel and unusual punishment to have to face so soon after Dorian. But in the field, we managed to cobble together a story that we all vowed to keep straight: Hannah had gotten lost in the forest after the bonfire and struggled to find a signal for her phone. When she did finally get one, she called Rhia, and everyone had been with her at the time, so we all went to retrieve Hannah and that was why we were so late and hadn't been in touch.

We'd be reprimanded and questioned and look like fools, but it was better than looking crazy. Henry was the only parent who had any inkling of the truth. So while Ryland and Quentin could explain everything to him, we girls figured our story was better than the truth.

By the time everyone parted ways, it was fully dark. Hannah and Rhia walked back to their home, Quentin and Ryland climbed into Ryland's car, and Cale and I looked at each other.

"Ready?" he asked.

His hand was outstretched to return me home in the blink of an eye. But I didn't feel like I had any right to accept it. I had betrayed everyone, and it was only through Cale's quick thinking and Quentin's willing sacrifice that Dorian had been thwarted.

But I did have to get home. With a stifled sigh, I took Cale's hand.

When my house resolved before my eyes, I braced myself for my parents' tirade. The light in the kitchen and den was on, and my dad's car was in the driveway where we stood. I took a breath and turned to bid Cale goodbye.

He was rubbing his eyes, looking like he had hardly slept these last few days, or even weeks. His hair was shaggy and worse than ever. The silver edges at the tips of his hair had grown enough that he looked like an old man from some positions. In the light of our house, his hair just looked gray, not silver and black.

Something inside me cracked at the transformation he had gone through. When I had first stumbled upon him a couple months ago, he had been stringy and skinny, cheekbones the highlight of his face. But part of him had seemed magical and ethereal. Now he seemed all too real: exhausted and aging more than he should have.

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed by the expression on my face. He had come a long way from when I had first encountered him upon returning to Gendormi. He actually had begun using facial expressions and understanding what they meant.

"Nothing." I shook my head. "I'll talk to you again soon. Thanks," I added, knowing that word couldn't encompass the depth of gratitude I owed him.

Before he could respond with anything, I hurried into my house.

My parents were displeased with how I handled Saturday. I was very tempted to reveal all and admit that I was in over my head, trying to face a demon that my own mother had fallen victim to, plus there was the little inconvenience of dealing with a forest that changed its definition of time at any whim, so here I had lost a day even though it had only been a couple hours in my mind.

"But we do understand that the worry over your missing friend can make you act differently than usual," Mom finished her lecture. "Thank goodness you found her."

Dad and Mom stood over me, where they had forced dinner on me. I didn't really have an appetite because of all the events that had happened, but I dutifully put a spoonful of chili in my mouth. The warmth of the food did make me feel slightly better.

Finally, after I scraped the bowl clean and promised to do better at keeping them abreast of my whereabouts, my parents let me leave the kitchen.