Right before the Wagon ride home for the Summer... on Labyrinth Gardens

Stephen Baxter

March 30, 2008 8:33 AM

Right before the Wagon ride home for the Summer... by Stephen Baxter

Ok. Teeth brushed? Check. Hair? Eh, could do with a bit more character - Stephen lifted a hand to mess his hair up satisfactorily. Trunk? Packed and awaiting the elves to send it to his wagon home. Fido? Ready to go. Have I forgotten anything? Yearbook? He grabbed the book from his bedside table and opened his trunk up to drop it in on top. And then opened the trunk up again to dig out a self-inking quill and stuck it in a pocket. Ok. I think that's just about it. Ok. Deep breath. Last chance for the year. She won't bite you. Ok, she might bite you. Got an idea. Where's your wand? In the other pocket. Awesome. Set. Ok. Better find her first. Or, more likely, better catch her before her wagon leaves.

With that thought still echoing in his head, Stephen bid a hasty adieu to his dorm, Pecari Commons and finally the suit of armour guarding the entrance. Or, more to the point at this time, the exit. He didn't hurry, well not much, and jogged through the small part of the gardens that needed to be navigated to get to out and to the front of the school where crowds of students were thronging around spending the time before they left hugging friends, promising to owl or hastily making last minute arrangements for meet-ups and stays during the summer. His eyes knew how to find what he was looking for, darting over the crowd and spotting the twins with relative ease.

"Hey," Stephen called over to them, jogging up to where Sorrel and her brother were hanging around waiting for their carriage ride home. "Hey," he said again as he reached them and paused for a breath. "Hey Ash. Um, Sorrel, you think you can come with me for a moment? I just want to talk to you for a sec. Away from the crowds." He hoped he didn't look quite as desperate as he was starting to feel - an altogether uncomfortable sensation, as he tended to be cool and having a good time regardless of the situation. Hmm... how to make sure she didn't suspect anything suss? Stephen sent a sunny grin towards his friend and her twin. "Oh," he said, suddenly realising that he might be misinterpreted. "Just Sorrel, Ash. Sorry, I've just got something I want to run by her." He was pretty sure that that would be good enough for Ash, but then sometimes his room mate could surprise him. Still, with any luck, not this time.

Please not this time.

39 Stephen Baxter Right before the Wagon ride home for the Summer... 49 Stephen Baxter 1 5

Ash and Sorrel

March 31, 2008 7:17 PM

You sure pick your moments... by Ash and Sorrel

Why? Whatever you have to say to me you can surely say to Ash too.

The twins were a team, a pair, and both were friends with Stephen. Any plotting should necessarily involve both of them, otherwise it implied it was against the other. And if not that, they were always involved in each other’s plans anyway. So that would have been the sort of response that usually greeted Stephen. However, Sorrel wasn’t usually rubbed the wrong way by Ash ditching her in favour of his girlfriend. She knew, deep down, that it was a little bit selfish and petty. Perhaps it would even drive the wedge that adolescence seemed to be deeper between them. But if Ash could go off and have a life without her, she could do the same to him with Stephen. Not in the same way as he and Lizzie did, obviously. Stephen was clearly not going to be interested in her – who would be? – but whatever he did want, it was something that Ash was to be left out of. She had a whole summer to make it up to him anyway. A whole summer without anyone else around, where they could still be twins.

“Sure,” she said. Ash hadn’t been going to presume to answer for her, but if he had, that wouldn’t have been the answer he’d have given. Sorrel linked arms with Stephen, just to reinforce the point, and allowed him to lead her away.

“Don’t be too long,” Ash called to their retreating backs, wishing he didn’t sound so much like a nagging parent, a mildly rude term added onto the end in an attempt to negate that. He slumped down, taking a one of the trunks as a seat and drumming his fingers against it.

“What’s up?” Sorrel asked, self-consciously unlinking from Stephen once they’d stopped. She wasn’t big on the whole cuddly, arm-in-arm friendsy thing. It was more a girly thing, and she knew she was very much one of the guys, and it probably seemed a bit weird for her to do it.

0 Ash and Sorrel You sure pick your moments... 0 Ash and Sorrel 0 5

Stephen

April 01, 2008 7:30 AM

It's a gift. by Stephen

"Cool," Stephen said casually, resisting the urge to laugh out loud. He was partway there, and this was going better than expected - she'd linked arms with him. Voluntary non-violent physical contact. It made it easier to remember times when she'd done so before. Times that weren't so close to now as he wished they might have been. But, this wasn't the time to be stuck thinking about things past, what he really needed to do was see if he could manage the rest. He chose the way, too focused on what he was planning to reply to Ash, and, as they walked, looking sideways every now and then both to reaffirm that he wasn't imagining her arm linked in his and to try to judge the expression on her face. "Ok," he said when they're reached a spot far enough in that he didn't think they'd be disturbed.

"What's up?" She unlinked their arms and Stephen had to focus for a moment to remember that this was, in fact, a good thing. For the moment.

"Right, it's like this."

He took his wand out in as casual a non-threatening way as he knew how. Without pausing to think about it, he took advantage of those terribly interesting nonverbal incantations they'd been working on in charms and hit her with a Petrificus Totalus. And then he froze, just for a second until he was sure she was decidedly under the spell and unlikely to do anything unfortunate. Like knee him in the groin. Which probably would only have been if she wasn't completely pissed with him. He didn't really like to dwell on what she might do if she was really narked.

"Okay," he said again, slowly. He laughed, a hint of nervousness managing to creep into the sound for the first time. "I'm sorry, Sorrie. Ha. Sorry, Sorrie... ok, bad joke, agreed. Sorry, Sorrel. It's just... I couldn't think of any other way I could get you to just stay put and listen for five minutes. And, you know, not maim me. Or interrupt. Or whatever. It's like this. I really, really... I don't want to be friends anymore." He paused, ran a hand through his hair messing it up further when he reached the back of his head. Trying to work out how to say what he wanted to say. And realised what he'd left it at. "I don't.... Look, um. Geeze. You know what, Sorrel? You drive me completely crazy. Completely and utterly bonkers bananas. I've been.... I don't know if you even realise it? I mean... I've kind of known for a while. I think it might even have had something to do with me getting together with Mia and breaking up with her - although, don't get me wrong, I really did like her too. She's a great chick, I wish you'd give her an easier time of it."

He looked at Sorrel uneasily, his mind telling him that this was probably not only he biggest mistake of his life, but quite possibly the last mistake he'd ever have the chance to make. Except she'd linked arms with him minutes ago. Sure, it might not be much, but this was Sorrel. That was entirely out of character with how she'd been the last few years and... And then he figured in for a penny, in for a pound.

"You know," he said as a memory of first year came back to him, making him smile for the moment. "I distinctly recall that the first time you met me you couldn't keep your hands off me. Do you even like your geriatric? I mean, its not like you talk about him much - just to brag about the stupid things he'd got you and his stupid bike. And even then, I don't think you've really said anything noteworthy about him in a couple of years. And it's wrong, you know. Kind of disgusting even- Ok. I wasn't... I'm going to ... It's like this. Dump him, Sorrie. Dump him and-" he broke off midsentence, frustration all that was apparent in his expression. He frowned for all of half a minute and then came to a decision. He closed the distance between them, thanked Merlin that she couldn't do anything about it, and pressed his lips against hers.

Ok.

Not quite what he'd expected. Petrificus Totalus... damn, kissing a petrified person doesn't work like it should. All hard and unyielding when it should be... ha, the idea of Sorrel being anything but hard and unyielding! A dream... a ... a stupid dream. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Not going to ... oh hell.

He stepped back. He fingered his wand, wishing for a clue as to what to do next. There was no way in hell he was stupid enough to just undo the spell. She'd kill him at the very least.

"I... I really..." Stephen trailed off. "Owl me or something, I guess. I'll, er..." he flourished his wand again and conjured a ball of string. With a slightly apologetic glance, he tied one end around her frozen wrist and then started to back off, unwinding it as he went. "I'll make sure Ash finds you. Oh, and if you're really pissed... you might not want to look at your yearbook," he finished lamely, before moving away, out of sight and speeding up.

He made it back out of the maze in pretty good time, all things considered. Unhappily flustered and not really able to do anything about it he made his way to where Ash was sitting and handed over the ball of string.

"Er, everything is ok... just in case you're wondering. But you- I kinda need to... go... now. And, if you follow this, I think Sorrel might need you. Haveagoodsummer."

There was a wagon ready and waiting. Stephen spotted Geoffrey nearby, grabbed his cousin and bundled him on board.

"I may need you to help me fake my death before next year," he told Geoff, once they were safely in the air.

39 Stephen It's a gift. 0 Stephen 0 5

Sorrel and Ash

April 01, 2008 10:29 AM

Probably not the desired effect by Sorrel and Ash

Sorrel didn’t really think anything of it as Stephen took out his wand. He was a fidget. The thought that he’d called her here to duel was so ridiculous as to not even cross her mind, and she scarcely expected Stephen, her best non-twin friend, to attack her. That, however, it seemed she had misjudged. At first, the sensation purely alarmed her. She didn’t connect it to Stephen, seeing as he’d not noticeably cast a spell. Her instant reaction was to attempt to articulate about the feeling. What, exactly, would have come out she wasn’t sure. She wouldn’t ever admit to not feeling well, which seemed to be to her what was happening. What she would have said though, would never be known. She found herself unable to make a sound. She tried to reach to clutch at her throat. Finding that she couldn’t do that either, and she became close to panic.

I’m sorry, Sorrie,

Stephen had done this to her?! She scowled at him as forcefully as she could, it deepening as he laughed at her plight, and hoping that the anger emanated effectively enough from her eyes, because she knew her eyebrows weren’t moving at all.

I couldn't think of any other way I could get you to just stay put and listen for five minutes. And, you know, not maim me. Or interrupt.

The volley of insults that Sorrel wanted to scream but couldn’t at this rather proved his point. She fought violently, feeling like she was flailing her limbs as wildly as possible, but whilst bound in concrete. There was no room in the material in which she felt she was encased for them to move a millimetre, and no give in it either. And then Stephen dropped the bombshell. Although, outwardly, she didn’t change a bit, she stopped dead in her fighting. He was ditching her as a friend? Although she never would have used the term herself, the best summary of her feelings was heartbreak. She wondered if Petrificus Totalus meant you couldn’t cry. She damn well hoped so, because she wasn’t going to be able to do anything to hide it if not. Stephen was about the only person who’d ever been able to get close to her. Had ever bothered to really try. But apparently he couldn’t take her any more. Or it was Princess. He’d taken Princess to the ball (as much as she’d avoided everything to do with it, she wasn’t deaf). Now they were getting back together and Princess had made it a condition that he and Sorrel couldn’t be friends any more. And Stephen had gone for the pretty face and make-out sessions option, rather than Sorrel’s boisterous friendship.

She was aware that Stephen didn’t seem to think this sufficient hurt to revenge his girlfriend against her, as he was still talking, and she tuned vaguely back in. He’d been saying something about the fact she drove him up the wall. As if dumping her as a friend wasn’t bad enough, he was going to systematically rip apart the fact they had been friends. Something about it being her fault that he’d broken up with Mia the first time… He was really going to town on this one. Next on the list, her past relationship. It had nothing to do with him and Princess, so this was just to rub into her face. And great, he’d rumbled her. No, she hadn’t really liked Mike. She’d let him take her because she knew no one else would. But no, they weren’t together any more. She just hadn’t been able to take it. She wasn’t sure why Stephen was telling her to dump him though. Did she have to be totally alone in order for him and Mia to be happy? If she had still been with Mike, she would have damn well stayed with him out of spite. If that stopped Princess being happy, she’d damn well do it, because the two of them could cut her out if they wanted, but they couldn’t tell her who else to see or not to see. As Stephen stepped towards her, she renewed her struggles to move, so that she could… she didn’t know what. But it was going to be more painful than anything she’d done to anyone in her life, because Stephen was hurting her more than anyone else ever had.

Then he kissed her.

That was more confusing than anything. He hated her, didn’t he? He’d just said he wanted nothing more to do with her. The only thing she could think was that he didn’t really want to break friends, but he just wanted Mia enough to do whatever she wanted. That that was his goodbye. It was weird though. He’d… he’d kissed her. They didn’t do that. He’d kissed her, on her frozen lips, like she was a girl. Even if she had paid proper attention to his speech, this still would have mystified her. She couldn’t conceive of him liking her as more than a friend. It was so utterly impossible, and she was so utterly unaware of the language of that side of life that she wouldn’t have been able to see Stephen’s words for what they truly meant.

She watched him twirling his wand, waiting for her limbs to feel like they were cracking through the ice and letting her up to breathe again. She wasn’t sure how she was going to react. It was odd how the swell of emotions churned when you couldn’t move. Sure, there was the frustration that she couldn’t punch him in the face for any of it. But not even being able to scowl, or harrumph. It was maddening how much more intense the waves of feeling were when you couldn’t let any of it escape your body in subconscious signals. And how much more aware of all the things you would have done subconsciously you became… But she didn’t get the release yet. Stephen was just turning his back on her, not even giving her a chance to say goodbye back. Or sock him.

No! No, don’t you dare leave me like this! she screamed in her head.

***

Ash continued to drum and glance around as the wagons loaded up. It seemed to be taking them ages to discuss whatever it was. Though he guessed that it was just cos he was bored, and anxious that Sorrel was going to miss their ride. Eventually, he saw a figure emerging around the corner. Alone.

“Where the **** is my sister?” he demanded angrily. There was something guilty about Stephen’s manner. Ash took the string in one hand, fury burning in him as Stephen explained to follow it to Sorrel, who needed help. “Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded angrily, wondering whether the two of them were playing a prank on him. If not, what the heck had Stephen done to Sorrel? Before Stephen could quite beat his hasty retreat, Ash had gripped his shoulder, his fingers digging in with a tightness that suggested it was now very definitely up to Ash whether or not the bone underneath them remained intact. “If you’ve hurt her,” he warned, on the basis that if this wasn’t a prank, Stephen needed telling, “if you’ve done anything to her, I am going to end you,” he promised. Releasing his grip a little, he gave Stephen a hearty shove towards the wagons going up North. He began to follow the string at a jog.

“Sorrel?” he called out occasionally. She didn’t respond, which either meant she was waiting quietly to trick him, or Stephen had done something that was definitely going to ultimately end with his death. “Sorrel?” he asked, his voice faltering slightly as he saw her, standing statue still. He slowed to a walk. That couldn’t be the real Sorrel. She was waiting somewhere to jump out at him, surely. He glanced around, before coming up to face the thing. Its eyes stared at him. “Sorrie?” he questioned, still not quite able to believe it. He reached out and gently touched the shoulder. Suffering no ill effects, he tugged a little harder, slightly scared when she didn’t yield. It took him a few seconds of panic before he realised what had happened. Baxter had hexed her?!

“Finite Incantatem,” he cast.

Everything that had welled up and been denied a release attempted to spill out of Sorrel simultaneously. The fierce fight to move suddenly being possible didn’t help either. Her knees buckled a little, and Ash caught her as she nearly lost her balance.

“What did he do?” he demanded angrily. “Sorrel… hey, you’re shaking,” hard as it was, he tried to work the anger out of his tone. He put both arms around her, hugging her fiercely. Sorrel took the opportunity of burying her head against his chest to quickly wipe her eyes. “What the **** did Baxter do?” he demanded. Sorrel shook her head. She was hurt, but completely confused. She couldn't even begin to explain what had happened, and neither did she want to. Her balance regained, her eyes fine, she pushed away from Ash, ripping the string from her wrist and headed back to where the wagons were leaving. Her trunk slammed forcefully into one of the seats as she barely controlled the magic levitating it up, and then she threw herself into the corner, hunched up and turned away. Ash’s own luggage bumped down too, barely less forcefully, and he climbed in after her. He stared at Sorrel’s huddled, miserable looking form. Stephen was going to get it.

0 Sorrel and Ash Probably not the desired effect 0 Sorrel and Ash 0 5