The Irregulars

Chapter 4

"Mother, look! I'm doing it! They're dancing!"

Alec looked on in wonder as the two crystal ballerinas floated in his palm, turning gently in a slow circle and casting diamonds of light around the room."

"You are doing it, my treasure!" his mother said, her blue eyes shining as she knelt down to watch her son. "You have such great gifts. Ethan, come see!"

Ethan walked over to watch Alec making the figurines dance in his hand. He nodded.

"Not bad, little brother."

"Jeanette!" came an angry, drunken voice from the next room. And Alec's mother Alec jumped at the sound of his father's voice and the figures fell from his hands. Before they could shatter on the floor, they were pulled backwards, sailing through the air where they landed in Ethan's hand. He gave his brother a wink as their mother stood up, smoothing out her dress.

"That's all for now, boys," she said. "No more amusement today. I have to go check on your father."

Their mother left the room in a hurry and Ethan came over to Alec, idly making the figures twirl and dance in his own hand.

"You're getting better," he said.

"I'd be as good as you if I could practice more," said Alec. "But I never can now that he's home all the time."

"You know him," said Ethan, rolling his eyes. "He'll find another job somewhere. Pick up work at the docks or something and then he'll be out of our hair for a while. And then..."

"What?"

"Then Mother says she's going to take us someplace," said Ethan, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Where is she going to take us?" asked Alec.

"Someplace special," Ethan said. "Someplace for people...people like us."

Before Alec could answer there was a pounding at the door of their room. Ethan looked at Alec, his face serious.

"Run, Alec."

Alec awoke with a start, unsure of where he was at first. After a moment, the haze cleared and he realized he was in his bunk. He sat up and began clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to work the electric tingling that had returned his fingers. With each stretch of his hands, he winced and uttered another curse in the general direction of Jane Harriman. Their training session had not gone well. Alec had expected that their time together would be difficult. What he had not expected, however, was the very real danger of mortal injury. Right from the start, he had been on the defensive, and, when it was all over, Alec found himself genuinely fearing for his safety.

"Show me what you've got," Jane had said, gesturing to the array of knives laid out on the table in front of them.

Alec smiled, eager to give Jane a proper demonstration of his abilities and hopefully dispel the specter of doubt that had hung between them since their initial first meeting. He readied himself, then clapped his hands together several times.

"What's that about?" Jane asked sharply.

For a moment, Alec was disoriented, unsure of what she was asking.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"That," Jane said. "Clapping your hands like that. What's that about? Are you a seal or something?"

"No..." said Alec. His face flushed so badly that he swore he could actually hear the blood rushing into his cheeks. A roar in his ears like the sound of the sea from inside a shell. "It's just something I do. Something I've always done before I conjure."