Battle of the Beasts

“Yeah,” Brendan said. “Maybe you need to eat more, Deal.”

“Both of you leave me alone,” Cordelia said.

Brendan and Eleanor gave each other a look, but then Eleanor said, “It’s fine. Put it at whatever temperature you want. I’m going to read my new book.”

Eleanor pulled out an Encyclopedia Brown book her mother had given her. She was very proud of how she could read Encyclopedia Brown now. She could usually solve the cases, too – Probably because of all the mysteries I had to solve on our adventures, she thought. To try and get her in a better mood, she showed the book to Cordelia.

“Look how close I am to being done. Today I’m gonna finish!”

Cordelia stared at the book, shrugged, and looked out the window, ignoring her sister. Eleanor’s face fell.

Brendan noticed. “Hey, Deal, what’s your problem?” he asked. “Angel? Could we please have some privacy?”

Angel raised the dark glass panel between the front and back seats. Now it was like the Walkers were in a private, rolling chamber.

“Deal,” Brendan said. “What’s up with you? You haven’t been acting like yourself. You’re not reading, not even about Will in Kristoff’s books. Is that what this is about? Will? I know you miss him.”

That got Cordelia’s attention. Will Draper was a World War I fighter pilot, a character from Denver Kristoff’s novel The Fighting Ace. He had collided with the Walkers when their house got banished during the first Wind Witch attack … and, to be completely honest, he’d had a bit of a crush on Cordelia. And vice versa.

“Why should I read about Will?” Cordelia said. “He clearly isn’t thinking about us, or he would have been in touch. Maybe we imagined him. Maybe we imagined all of it.”

Brendan sighed. Losing Will was the hardest thing the Walkers had faced after their adventures. When they went back to San Francisco, they brought him with them, and he had promised to meet Cordelia at her school the next day – but he never showed up.

That was six weeks ago.

The Walkers did everything they could to find Will – searched the internet for reports of a confused man who thought he was a British pilot, put up posters depicting a sketch of him – but nothing had come of it. Cordelia had gotten sadder and sadder as days passed and she never heard from him, and then her sadness had turned to anger. She didn’t like the idea that someone had the power to make her feel so bad.

“Maybe he drifted magically back into The Fighting Ace,” Brendan said, “and he’s there now. We know Kristoff’s books are weird, cursed things. Maybe they can absorb a character if he gets out.”

“I just hope he’s okay, wherever he is,” Eleanor said.

“Yeah,” Brendan agreed. “He was kinda like the older brother I’ll never have.”

“I miss his corny jokes,” Eleanor continued.

“And the way he held my hand when we—” started Cordelia, who quickly stopped herself, realising that Brendan and Eleanor were staring at her.

“I thought you said he wasn’t real,” Brendan said.

“I shouldn’t have,” said Cordelia. “I know he’s real.”

They all thought about Will for a moment, about how great it would be if they had one more person they could talk to about the things in their lives that they couldn’t talk about with anyone else, when the car screeeeeeched to a halt.

“Hey!” Angel yelled from the driver’s seat, so loud that they could hear him through the panel. “Are you crazy? Crossing in the middle of the street?”

Brendan powered down the window. Cordelia was the first to speak: “Dad?”

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“Mr Walker?” Angel asked, suddenly worried about his job. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognise you!”

Their father would have been hard for anyone to recognise. He was wearing a ski jacket, torn jeans, loafers without socks, a tattered San Francisco Giants cap, and aviator sunglasses, with a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck. He was crossing the street in a hurry, headed for a deli, while a double-parked cab waited across the way. Mr Walker saw Angel and put on a smile.

“Kids! Hey! Angel, don’t worry about it.” He walked to the rear passenger window. Cars honked at him. He looked like he’d been up all night.

“Mom said you were out for a run,” Brendan said.

“I was working. Your mother tries to shield you from the amount of work I do. But I’m really trying to get my old position back, and that means doing time-consuming research.”

“We understand,” Eleanor said. “We love you, Dad.”

“What kind of research?” Brendan asked, concerned about his dad – and wanting to believe him.

“Medical research. Blood flow and reward centres in the brain. Look, I’m grabbing a sandwich and going home. You kids have a great day at school. I love you.” He kissed his hand, reached through the window, and patted each of their heads.

Then he was off, into the deli. The Walkers looked at one another.

“Maybe he’s going insane. Maybe the book cursed him,” Cordelia said.

“Or maybe he’s just got too much money,” said Brendan.

“Maybe I should have wished for like half as much,” Eleanor said guiltily.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to school.

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Bay Academy Prep was situated on a sprawling campus with a duck pond. You had to drive through a gate and up over a hill past the pond – which was home to a few cute ducks and more than a few big, dirty seagulls – until you arrived at the main building, which resembled a red sandstone cathedral. It was listed as a San Francisco landmark. It had been very impressive to the Walkers at first, but now it was just school.

The Walkers gave one another fist bumps and went their separate ways.

Eleanor headed left, down a path where she was joined by other kids her age. The third graders had two forces acting on their bodies as they walked to class – the weight of their backpacks, which pulled them back, and their desire to play with their phones, which hunched them forward. Eleanor texted her mom on her starter phone as she walked in. There wasn’t much else she could do on the phone, since it couldn’t go on the internet. Eleanor didn’t mind; she was just happy to be able to text her mom when she needed her.

I miss you mom

Her mom messaged her back.

Is everything okay?

Before Eleanor could answer, she realised that two girls were walking beside her, one on either side: Zoe and Ruby. Not the nicest girls. Both taller than Eleanor, and (she had to admit) prettier. But they’ve each got models as moms – what are they supposed to be, short and ugly?

“Hey, Ruby, did you see what I posted last night?” Zoe asked, speaking right across Eleanor as if she weren’t there.

“Oh yeah!” Ruby said. “It’s awesome! And did you see? I just Instagrammed the funniest picture of my French bulldog.”

Ruby held out her phone directly across Eleanor’s face, so Zoe could see the photo. Eleanor realised they were showing off their phones.

“I know what you’re doing,” Eleanor said, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have to be so obvious. I know my phone’s not as good as yours.”