Sloan sang "Your Blood" clearly, sounding almost like Hunter Wilson, lead singer of the Pop Rock band, Sinquest. He finished with a high note and Ryan breathed out heavily, like his lungs deflated.
Everyone cheered and Sloan smiled widely. Troy clapped lightly.
"We got ourselves a Rockstar," said Mr. Mui and Sloan went into the kitchen with a grin. Jessica followed him excitedly.
"He's really good," said Shantel and from his choice of songs, Ryan believed he banished the phantic.
---
Mr. Ross pulled up to the house and blared the horn. Ryan said "bye" to Shantel hastily and swiped the last candied apple off a large dish in the kitchen. He ran to the car with it and Mr. Ross smiled from ear to ear.
---
Ryan sat on Sloan's bed in his room at his house with the CD, Avalonia by Dar Tenian.
"I did what again?" asked Sloan.
"You banished the phantic on me," said Ryan.
"You mean that thing that followed you home?"
"Yes. You need to check out this website."
Sloan turned his tablet on and typed in www.eljorian.org. He read the home page quickly.
"I'm some sort of . . . angel? I don't get it."
"Just take the questionnaire," said Ryan.
"Did you?"
"Yes," said Ryan.
"And?"
"I'm in the Ergbear Phylum, but I can't sing."
"You want to?"
"Yeah."
Sloan completed the questionnaire and hit "Questionnaire Results". A window opened, placing him in the Okehawk Phylum.
"Okehawk - I knew it," said Ryan.
Sloan read about it.
"I'm like a hawk that uses fire," said Sloan. "That's cool."
"Do you want to join?" asked Ryan.
"You mean . . . audition?"
"Yes."
He clicked on "Rules To Join" and read it . "We don't have to accept employment if we audition."
"You can do the rituals," said Ryan.
"Yeah, but I want a job. I mean . . . I could use the money. I wonder how much they pay."
"I know you can do it," said Ryan. "Do you think I can?"
"If you try. Adam Dar Tenian's in a class by himself. Are you sure you want to learn 'Clocker'?"
"It's the song I like."
Sloan played the song on a CD player. "Sing 'Clocker' right now."
Ryan hesitated and sang awkwardly. Sloan listened, squinting in-between.
"Stop listening to yourself," he said. "You're singing too low and your voice squeaks when you go high. Do it again."
Ryan sang "Clocker" again.
"When you get to 'In your face', you have to aim your air at your ears," said Sloan.
Ryan sang it again.
"You need to take a deep breath in-between."
Ryan tried again.
"Better, but you have to sing it over and over until your mind stops thinking about it."
---
Ryan walked into Homeroom and Shantel slipped him a note. He read it:
Ryan,
Visit me at 31 Token Road
anytime between three
and four pm Monday
through Thursday. Just
knock. No need to call.
You have to leave at six.
Shantel
Ryan slipped the note in his pocket.
---
After school, Mr. Ross dropped Grace off at home and drove Ryan to Ethon's Gas. He filled the tank and went inside. The figure with the troll-like face and gray robe appeared in the back seat.
"Shantel won't like you," it said and disappeared.
Ryan shivered.
Mr. Ross came back with two bags of peanuts. "Snack up, Rye. You don't want your stomach growling around Shantel."
---
Enormous trees grew on the sidewalk along Token Road all the way down to a woodsy cul de sac.
Ryan looked for the number thirty-one on the two-story homes.
A stockade fence with an iron gate protected a red house and giant arborvitaes surrounded a yellow one. A dark-pink house stood on a hill with "31" on the wooden door.
"It's that one," said Ryan and Mr. Ross stopped. Ryan got out of the car anxiously.
"I'll pick you up at six," he called, driving off.
Ryan walked up the stone steps built into the hilly, front yard and climbed a second set of steps at the porch. He knocked on the door and the stained-glass windows around it reflected the sunlight.
A young woman with long, black hair and green eyes answered the door, wearing a black blouse and tight, blue jeans.
"Hi, can I help you?"
"Is Shantel home?" asked Ryan nervously.
"Who are you?" she asked curiously.
"I'm Ryan. Shantel invited me over . . . ah . . . Monday through Thursday."
"Oh, okay. I'm Sigourney, her sister. Come in."
A giant, green vase filled with violet carnations sat on a tiny table in the hallway beneath a round mirror on the wall. A picture hanged nearby. A pretty, elderly woman with white hair and big, brown eyes smiled demurely.
"Shantel!" called Sigourney. She stood at the bottom of a wooden staircase. "Ryan's here!" She turned to Ryan. "Have a seat in the living room."
Sigourney walked to the opened, dining room and a lace cloth covered a long table with an enormous basket on it filled with red and green apples.
Two electronic candles shined on either side of a crystal bowl on a small table against the wall and she took a piece of cinnamon candy from it. Sigourney went in the kitchen.
The smell of baking bread filled the living room.
Ryan sat on a white couch near a glass, coffee table with fashion magazines on it. Giant, green and violet pillows covered a white, love seat nearby.
Ryan waited, looking into a side room with white, patio furniture inside it. Sunlight shined through the many windows.
A young woman with her brown hair in a ponytail, wearing a purple, tank top and blue jeans carried a tray of dinner rolls into the dining room and placed them on a cutting board on the table.
"Shantel's not down here yet?" she said, mostly to herself. "Shantel!" she called. "You have a guest!" She approached Ryan and her blue eyes sparkled. "She'll be down in a minute. Hi, I'm her sister, Skyler."
"Hi," said Ryan.
Wearing the green blouse and jeans she wore at school, Shantel walked down the stairs, taking her time.
"We can talk in my room," she said. "Don't make noise."
Ryan followed Shantel upstairs to a hallway covered with a red, Oriental rug. A short set of stairs winded up to a third floor that led to a closed, wooden door.
"My room's right here," she said, pushing the first door open. She sat on a pink quilt on a double bed in the center of the room.
"Close the door," she said. "And lock it."
Ryan shut and locked the door nervously. He turned Shantel's desk chair around and sat down.
"It's four-thirty now," she said. "You have to leave exactly at six pm. The clocks will chime."
"What happens at six?"
"A spirit walks around the house. He's outside right now. He always sees who walks in the house with me after school. That's why you have to wait until three 'o clock. I don't want him to see you."
"Why?"
"He'll make sure you get lost."
"How?"
"He'll hurt you."
"In what way?"
"Anyway he can."
"This is weird, Shantel. I mean, I'll leave at six, but I don't believe a spirit can hurt anyone."
"Neither do I, but he punches me."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure."
"Can you use sage and get rid of him?"
"He comes right back."
"Maybe he's not a spirit, but an entity."
"That's what Chase said."
"You talked to him about it?"
"Yes," said Shantel.
"It might be a proprietary. Go to Eljorian.org now. I'll help you."
"In a minute," she said.
"Are your parents home?"
"No. My dad lives in Seattle and my mom died. It's just me, my sisters and my grandmother."
"Where's your grandfather?"
"He died last year."
"I'm sorry," he said.
"My grandmother reads the mail everyday in the sun room. She's probably there now."
"Shantel!" called a woman from downstairs. "Will you come down here for a minute?"
"I hate it when she calls me. Her room's downstairs and she hates going up and down. I'll be right back."
Shantel hurried down the stairs, leaving the door open.
Ryan listened to two voices downstairs and admired the colored, magazine pictures of Josie Moss, Sinquest and Dar Tenian on the wall in her room.
A stuffed, white tiger and a stuffed, panda bear adorned the white dresser. Ryan found a note on it and read it:
Shantel,
I'm sorry I opened your
locker and read your
notebook. Please forgive
me and be my friend still.
Troy
Ryan gagged and put the note back.
He opened the white, closet door and a variety of blouses, skirts and jackets crowded the rack. Piled boxes of shoes filled the top shelf and a large, brown case with a handle leaned up against the wall.
Ryan unzipped the heavy case and heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He zipped it back, closing the door just as Shantel walked in.
"My grandmother wanted me to see a Thanksgiving card from my dad. She invites him, but he never makes it. Do you want something in my closet?"
"No, I was just looking around."
"Do you want a drink? Skyler made a fresh batch of iced tea."
"I'm fine, thanks," said Ryan.
"You can sit on the bed," she said.
Shantel sat in the desk chair, turning a tablet on and typed "www.eljorian.org" in the search engine. She took her time, almost reading the entire website.
"Did you get help from an angelkin?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"What did you have?"
"A mimlock."
"Did you take the questionnaire?"
"Yes. I got Ergbear."
"That's cool if you can banish proprie . . . "
"Proprietaries."
"But you have to sing."
"I know," said Ryan.
All the clocks in the house chimed loudly.
"It's six pm," said Shantel. "You have to go. Do you have a ride?"
"Yeah, my dad's picking me up."
Ryan walked into the hallway and an invisible fist punched him in the stomach.
"Ow, something just punched me."
"He's fast. Go," she said, shutting her bedroom door.
Ryan left the house and closed the front door behind him.
The sky darkened and the street lamp shed a little light on the yard. Dampness filled the air and a sharp breeze stung his cheeks.
The tall, black figure stood on the lawn behind him.
A black SUV pulled up at the sidewalk behind Mr. Ross' car. Someone got out. The strange man with crazy eyes stood there, grinning.
Ryan froze and the man vanished. The driver took off and Mr. Ross rolled the passenger, window down.
"Get in, Rye," he called.
Ryan headed to the stone steps in the hill and a bolt of lightning struck the wet grass in front of him, throwing him on his back.
Thunder rumbled in the sky.
---
Ryan rested on something soft, barely feeling his body, but the numbness in his joints weakened him and he lay there with his eyes closed, listening.
"He's still asleep. You want me to wake him?" asked Mr. Ross.
"Absolutely not," said Ms. Wentworth.
"Gran, why don't you take Ryan's dad to the kitchen and make him a cup of tea," said Skyler.
"And give him a lavender muffin," said Sigourney.
"Alright," she said kindly, escorting Mr. Ross away.
"Okay, Shantel," whispered Skyler. "Unbutton his shirt."
Shantel undid the buttons on Ryan's, plaid shirt and blood rushed to his nether region.
"Lift up his T-shirt," said Skyler, rubbing her hands together rapidly. "I got this." She placed her palms on his chest and stomach.
A warm sensation comforted him and he felt his shoulders first, then his arms and finally his legs.
"This muffin is magical," said Mr. Ross, leaving the kitchen.
"Stop," whispered Sigourney and Skyler took her hands off. Shantel pushed his T-shirt down, buttoning the shirt messily.
"I wasn't done," whispered Skyler and Ryan opened his eyes slightly. Sigourney stepped aside and Mr. Ross leaned over him.
"Hey, partner - you alright? A lightening bolt hit the ground and you passed out. How you feeling?"
"Hmm," said Ryan.
"That doesn't sound good," he said.
"Would like to join us for dinner?" asked Ms. Wentworth. "It's best Ryan rests a little longer."
"Sure," he said, rubbing his belly.