Page 148 of Twisted Ties
“No,” I say, “it’s not that.” I tug my hand free of hers. “I need to …”
I turn and start pushing my way along the row, people cursing me, and Winnie calling after me. I keep my eyes on the man and when I reach the steps, hurry down them three at a time.
Why is he here, an unregistered among all these magicals? Does he want to get caught? Has he come to speak with me? Or am I mistaken again? Am I imagining things?
As soon as I’m out of the stadium gate, I sprint around the stands, hearing the loud roars from within, and seeing magic soar high up into the air. I calculate roughly where the man was, slowing my steps as I make it right round tothe other side of the stadium. I go to push my way inside, but then I hear a voice call me.
“Rhianna.”
I spin around and find the older man standing right behind me. It’s him. The man from the cemetery.
He beckons to me and I follow him away from the stadium and into a copse of trees that lie to the west.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp. “Are you crazy? Do you want to get caught?” Maybe he does. Maybe he’s tired of running and has come to hand himself in. He must have been running for years, decades.
“I’m perfectly safe. Only you can see me.”
My brow crinkles in confusion. “What?” I say. Am I dreaming? Am I dreaming this?
He lifts his hand from his pocket and opens his fist. In his palm lies a silver locket.
“My aunt’s locket.”
“Yes.” He steps a little closer. “I’m sorry. I never intended to steal it from you.”
“Then why did you take it?”
“I came looking for you and your aunt. To see what she had heard. To tell of what I knew.”
I screw up my brow in confusion. “There’s war brewing, Rhianna Blackwaters. I can feel it in the air.” He tips his head to one side, looking at me intently. “Do you feel it too?”
I simply stare back at him in confusion. He shakes his head, clearly disappointed by my response.
“In the town, they told me your aunt had died – buried in the cemetery – and that you had left town with two older men. I assumed either the authorities or the gangs had taken you.”
“The authorities.”
“I went to pay my respects to your aunt and standingthere I sensed it – the locket.” He adjusts his glasses on his nose, the locket still shining in his other hand. “I assume you know what it is?”
“What it is?”
“Yes, what it can do.”
“N-n-no. I didn’t know it could do anything. I thought it was just a necklace.”
“It is a cloaker.”
I shake my head in frustration. “I don’t know what that is.”
“A powerful charm that can keep you hidden. Hidden from anyone you choose. How else do you think I could stand here among all these magicals and not be seen?”
“I saw you.”
“Yes, strange that.” He tilts his head, examining me. “How do you think your aunt kept you so well hidden from the magicals all those years?”
“She never …” I trail off.
“I took it because I didn’t think you had need of it. I thought you were never coming back. But then there you were, at the cemetery, and I intended to hand it over to you then but–”
