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Page 7


  “Wait, I have a question.” Caitlyn actually started to raise her hand as if she were at school. What a dork! “Are you trying to get us to have visions about each other? Me and Cass, I mean. Because we’re not touching anybody else.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. “Good point. Maybe we should try touching you,” I told our grandmother. Two birds, one stone, right? Maybe if we got more visions about her, we’d learn something useful. After all, she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to share.

  But the old woman was shaking her head. “I forgot to mention that part,” she said. “The theory behind focusing objects—”

  “Hang on—theory?” I broke in. “So you don’t really know if it’s true?”

  She ignored me. “The theory is that the power stored within focusing objects is for general Sight,” she said. “When you touch another person, part of that person’s own natural energy is what fuels and guides the details of the vision.”

  “Huh?” Caitlyn said, pretty much expressing my own reaction.

  “Don’t they teach any science in your American schools?” Grandmother Lockwood snapped. “It’s a very simple principle. When you touch a specific person, you get a vision about that person. Yes?”

  “Yes,” we chorused.

  “Mostly,” Caitlyn added. “I mean, except for that vision about the guy with the braid when I was touching Cassie.”

  “Precisely.” Grandmother Lockwood nodded. “The general energy from the diary fueled a random vision. Or seemingly random.” She frowned slightly. “We’re not quite sure how it works yet; your father was just beginning to formulate this theory when he . . . Well, never mind. We can test it now, hmm?”

  I was still a little confused. “So you’re saying if Cait and I touch that scarf that belonged to our father, whatever we see won’t have anything to do with him, or with anyone we know, probably? It’ll just add power to whatever vision we do end up having?”

  She shrugged. “As I said, that’s the theory.”

  “So what’s the point?” I said. “Why do we even want to see some random person’s future?”

  “Yeah,” Caitlyn added. “If we want to test our power with objects, we could use something of Mom’s. Maybe we’d get a vision about her.”

  “I told you, it doesn’t work that way.” Grandmother Lockwood sounded awfully certain for a lady who’d just been talking about all this as a theory. “Ordinary objects don’t add any power at all—only those that have been in a Lockwood’s possession during a vision. John was fairly certain about that part.”

  “Fairly certain?” Caitlyn tilted her head.

  Meanwhile I couldn’t resist reaching for the scarf the old woman had dropped on the table. The wool felt scratchy and soft at the same time. “So this belonged to him, huh?” I murmured, talking mostly to myself.

  “Yes.” Grandmother Lockwood stood and grabbed the scarf. “Sit closer together—I want to try something.”

  Caitlyn scooted her chair up right next to mine. Then Grandmother Lockwood draped the scarf over both of our shoulders, tucking the ends down into the collars of our shirts.

  “Keep the fabric as close to your heart as possible,” she said. “We don’t know if that makes a difference, but it’s worth a try.” She pushed the diary and necklace closer. “And touch these again, too.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why bother?” I muttered, reaching for them. “Like I told you, you can’t just—”

  I gasped as the vision slammed into me. The familiar room faded almost to nothing, replaced by a bedroom I had never seen before, with elegant furnishings and plush carpeting. Even the messily unmade bed looked luxurious and soft. The single window I could see had thick iron bars on it, and pale moonlight was pouring in from outside. A thin, rather ragged-looking white man around my mother’s age was standing near the door. He was dressed in a shabby velvet robe and slippers. Another man, this one at least ten years older and dressed in a dapper suit, was in the open doorway. Both men glanced around as they talked, seeming furtive and nervous. A second later the shabby man handed something to the other guy, though it was small enough that I couldn’t see what it was. The dapper guy nodded, then spun on his heel and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. The shabby man’s shoulders slumped, and he started walking slowly toward the window . . .

  “Oh!” Cait exclaimed.

  The vision disappeared. My sister had fallen back, losing contact with the diary and me. I gulped for breath, trying to bring the real world into focus.

  “That was . . . intense,” I managed to croak out.

  “What did you see?” Grandmother Lockwood asked.

  I glanced at Cait, who still looked out of it. “Two random guys in a room,” I began.

  “No,” Caitlyn blurted out. “Not totally random. I—I recognized one of them.”

  “You did?” I blinked at her. “Which one?”

  “The younger one.” She sat up, carefully pulling off the scarf and setting it on the table. “It was the guy from my earlier vision—the one I saw with Mom.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You mean her new Christmas boyfriend?” I exclaimed. “That shabby, tired guy—really? But he didn’t look anything like our dad.”

  Caitlyn shrugged, picking up the talisman and fiddling with it restlessly. “He looked thinner and a little more tired than in the first vision, yeah. But I’m pretty sure it was the same guy.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to bring up the image of the shabby man’s face. “Okay, I guess I can see it . . .”

  Grandmother Lockwood hadn’t said a word. When I opened my eyes and looked over, she was staring straight ahead, her expression distant and strange.

  “So what does it mean?” I demanded. “I guess the visions aren’t totally random after all.”

  “Yes, this is most interesting,” she replied slowly, picking up the scarf and staring at it. “I’ll have to discuss it with the others.”

  “What others?” I traded a look with my sister. “You mean other Lockwoods?”

  Before she could answer, the front door slammed open and Mom stormed in. “Not cool, Verity!” she exclaimed.

  Grandmother Lockwood swallowed hard, her expression returning to its haughty default. “Whatever are you on about, Deidre?”

  Mom glared at her, arms akimbo. “You faked that text,” she snapped. “Just admit it. Why are you so eager to get me out of your hair? No, never mind—I don’t care why. But I’m getting fed up with it. If you want to have any contact with the girls at all, you need to respect my authority.”

  “Fine,” Grandmother Lockwood retorted. “But only when you respect their unique heritage and stop trying to interfere with it!”

  The argument continued from there, but I stopped paying attention. I’d just noticed that the scarf had disappeared. Grandmother Lockwood must have tucked it back in her purse when Mom came in. That was kind of weird, but I supposed she was worried that Mom might recognize it, if my dad had really worn it that much. Maybe she’d want to have it as a keepsake—not that Mom was the keepsake type.

  I rubbed my fingers together, feeling a tiny piece of fiber that had come loose from the scarf. This thread is the only thing I have of Dad’s, I thought, only half joking.

  Did Grandmother Lockwood have more of his stuff? I wanted to ask her, but was afraid to do it with Mom there. Then again, maybe if I did she’d actually answer . . .

  Before I could decide, Grandmother Lockwood grabbed the diary and stormed out, saying she’d be in touch when she could. As soon as she was gone, Mom rounded on us, still looking angry.

  “There it is,” I blurted out, realizing I was seeing yet another vision come true. At the pool party, I’d had a brief vision of Mom looking furious like this, with only the dingy white wall of the dining area in view behind her.

  “What?” she snapped irritably. “Do you have something to say to me, Cassandra?”

  “Nope.” I glanced at Caitlyn. “We should get started on our homework
,” I added with a meaningful eyebrow waggle.

  She nodded. “Right behind you.”

  Leaving Mom to cool off, we hurried to our room and shut the door. I flopped onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  “Well, that was interesting,” I declared. Suddenly remembering something, I sat up again abruptly. “Wait—the talisman! Is it still out there with Mom, or did Granny L take it?”

  “Neither.” Cait opened her hand to show the pendant nestled there. “I hid it in my lap when Mom came in.”

  “Good.” I stared at her. “So you really think it was the same guy? In both those visions?”

  She nodded. “I know it was. I just don’t know what he was doing in this new vision. Who was the other man?”

  “No clue.” I leaned back against my pillows. “I still don’t really understand why we’re seeing random people now. I mean, at least the first time Mom was in the vision, too, right? So maybe that’s the connection to Boyfriend Dude. But what about the vision from before—the guy with the braid and the camera? Who’s he?”

  “I don’t know.” She sat down at her desk. “I don’t quite understand it either. I’m not even sure Grandmother Lockwood does.”

  “Great,” I muttered. “The blind leading the blind.” Then I thought of something else and sat up again. “Hey, but we had the same vision both times, right? So what’s that about?”

  “You mean how can what we saw be good and bad at the same time?” Cait shrugged. “It’s probably something like with the package from our grandmother.”

  I nodded. “It was good, because we finally found out she existed,” I said. “But bad because Mom took it away. So what—does that mean you’ll think Mom’s new shabby boyfriend is super cool, and I’ll think he’s a dork?”

  “He wasn’t so shabby-looking in the other vision,” she said with a little frown. “Anyway, I guess something like that is possible. Or maybe—maybe Mom will be happy with him at first, but he’ll end up breaking her heart?”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “Or that he’s cool, but then he gets sick and that’s why he looked all shabby?” Okay, I didn’t like the sound of that either. “Whatever. Maybe we should stop worrying about it.”

  “But what if we’re seeing these visions for a reason?” Caitlyn fretted. “Like we’re supposed to stop something terrible, or—”

  A sudden knock on the door made us both jump. “Dinner’s in the oven.” Mom’s voice was muffled but thankfully sounded calmer. “Come out here and set the table.”

  “Coming!” I called back, almost relieved to be interrupted. Because thinking about everything that had happened was making my brain hurt, and thinking about which side of the plate the forks go on was just about all I could handle right then.

  10

  CAITLYN

  THE NEXT MORNING I wandered toward homeroom, lost in thought. Yesterday had been pretty crazy. I reached up to touch the talisman. It was pretty strange to think that seemingly ordinary objects could bring on such extraordinary visions. And also weird to imagine how many other Lockwoods had worn this very necklace over the past three hundred years.

  But all of those thoughts disappeared as I stepped into homeroom and got a look at Liam. “Whoa,” I said, hurrying forward. “What happened to you?”

  He looked up at me with a grin. His face was painted bright green and orange, with crazy scales traced out in black, and yellowish fangs drawn sticking out of his mouth.

  “Do you like it?” he asked. “I’m Viperguy—rowr!” He made claw hands at me.

  Now I got it. Viperguy was one of his favorite comic book characters. He talked about him all the time. But why had he suddenly decided to go all cosplay about it—especially at school?

  Bianca looked up from her book and rolled her eyes. “It was Goober’s dare.”

  “Yeah, he dared me to let him and Josh paint me up as my favorite comic book character and then walk around like this all day.” Liam sounded pretty cheerful about it.

  “Yo, Liam!” Buzz rushed over. “Cool face paint, dude! Viperguy, right?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Liam high-fived him. “It’s for Truth or Dare.”

  Brent and Biff came over, too. As the three B Boys admired Josh and Goober’s handiwork, I sat down and glanced at the empty teacher’s desk at the front of the room.

  “Is Ms. X back today?” I asked Bianca.

  She shrugged. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

  I nodded, then glanced over at the boys. Biff was using a pen to touch up a smudged section of scales on Liam’s chin. “Thanks, Biff,” Liam said when he finished.

  “No prob.” Biff capped the pen and stuck it in his pocket. “Looking good, man!”

  Liam’s new friendship with the B Boys still seemed a little strange, even though I’d foreseen it in a vision. Of course, it hadn’t seemed like that was what was happening at first. All I’d seen was Liam all bloody, with the B Boys dragging him along through the pool area at our birthday party. Cassie and I had been afraid that the football players were going to beat him up or something.

  But as it turned out, the blood had been a result of Liam’s own clumsiness. And the B Boys were just trying to help by carrying him over to a lounge chair. Ever since that day, they’d all become pretty friendly.

  Just goes to show how confusing our visions can be.

  Suddenly Liam poked me in the arm. “Truth or dare,” he said.

  “What?” I blinked at him.

  “Truth or dare.” Liam sat back and grinned at me. “I know I’m technically not done with my dare until the end of the day. But I don’t want to wait that long for my turn. So truth or dare, Cait.”

  Somehow I’d managed to avoid the game that had been sweeping the school. I had too many other things on my mind.

  “Um, that’s okay,” I said. “You can pick someone else.”

  “No way, Waters!” Brent whooped. “My man Liam picked you, so you gotta take your turn!”

  “Yeah,” Biff and Buzz chorused.

  Gabe Campbell wandered toward us, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “What are you losers yelling about over here?” he demanded.

  “Liam just picked Caitlyn for Truth or Dare,” Biff replied. “So what’s it gonna be, Waters?”

  “Yeah, Waters.” Gabe stared at me, eyes glinting with malice. “What’s it gonna be?”

  I shivered, telling myself to be glad that it was Liam choosing me instead of Gabe. I could only imagine what kind of dare he might come up with. And I didn’t want to think about what kind of truth question he would ask me!

  “Okay, okay,” I said quickly. “Uh, truth, I guess.”

  Liam looked disappointed. “Truth? Are you sure?”

  I nodded. Truth definitely seemed quicker and easier to deal with. After all, I had no secrets from my friends—at least none that Liam would think to ask about.

  “Okay,” Liam said with a shrug. He thought for a second. “Here’s your question. Why don’t you ever want to talk about the class trip with me and Bianca?”

  I gulped, realizing he had a point. The two of them had been discussing the upcoming trip practically every homeroom and lunch period all week. But I couldn’t tell everyone the truth about why I didn’t have much to say—namely, that I was way too distracted because my long-lost grandmother had just popped over from England, and my visions of the future were getting stronger and more frequent, and I was worried that something terrible might have happened to our homeroom teacher . . .

  “Changed my mind,” I blurted out. “A dare would be more fun, right?”

  Liam’s eyes lit up. “Awesome! I came up with some really good ones.”

  But Gabe pushed forward with a scowl. “No way!” he said, sounding kind of aggressive. “You can’t change your pick.”

  “The rules don’t say that, and besides, she’s right. Dares are way more fun,” Buzz said.

  Everyone else nodded. Gabe muttered something about stupid games, and stomped away. Good. He’d alway
s made me a little nervous, and now that Cass and I knew he’d run to Ms. Xavier with our secret, I liked him less than ever.

  Speaking of Ms. Xavier . . . I glanced at the door, but there was no sign of either her or the sub from the day before. That’s a good sign, I told myself. Ms. X always comes in at the last second, and the sub got here earlier yesterday.

  I turned back to my friends. Liam was rubbing his hands together eagerly, like some evil scientist from a movie. Paired with the green and orange face paint, it was actually a little unnerving.

  “Okay, lay it on me,” I said with a weak smile.

  “I’ve got the perfect dare for you,” he said. “I dare you to put on a blindfold, then try to identify people by touching their faces.”

  Brent laughed. “Cool dare, bro!”

  The others looked impressed, too. Biff dug a bandana out of his pocket.

  “Here, you can use this as a blindfold,” he said, tossing it to me.

  I caught it, feeling trapped. The talisman felt cold and heavy against my skin. What if all that face-touching brought on a vision? With everyone looking at me, there would be no way of hiding it.

  But what could I do? I’d already backed out of the truth question. No way could I get away with ditching this dare. I would just have to hope for the best.

  Bianca helped me tie on the blindfold. Then I waited as Liam whispered with the others nearby. How long until the bell rang? Maybe we’d have to put this off until lunchtime. At least that way I’d be able to take off the talisman.

  “Okay, here’s your first face,” Liam’s voice said loudly in my ear, startling me. “Put your hands out.”

  I lifted both hands. Liam—at least I guessed it was him—grabbed them and guided them to a face. I felt around the nose and eyes, then moved up to the hair.

  “Easy one,” I said with a smile, realizing only one person I knew had hair that short. “Buzz.”

  “Yo, you got me!” Buzz’s familiar voice exclaimed. “I should have put on a hat.”

  I waited for Liam to bring someone else forward. This time it took me a little longer to identify Maggie, a quiet kid who sat near the door who I finally recognized because of her funky hoop earrings. The next one was hard, too, but when Brent started snorting with laughter I knew it was him.