Body of Stars Laura Walter (chrome ebook reader .txt) 📖

life I’d been told to never venture out at nighttime once I changed, and yet there I was, doing it anyway. It was thrilling. Only hours before, I would have been terrified by the mere prospect. Now, excitement zipped along my body like a live wire. Maybe that time in the closet with Owen, those two minutes of security and desire, had changed me. Maybe Cassandra had been right about everything all along: being a changeling was powerful, and beautiful, and alluring. Fear was nothing but a distraction from the wonders newly available to us.

The larger group from Rebecca’s party broke apart when we approached the crowds of First Friday. Janine and the other two changelings set about finding taxis they’d feel safe in, but Miles, Cassandra, and I continued on foot together.

“We’re heading straight to Julia’s,” Miles said. “I don’t care if it’s First Friday. No detours.”

The night did feel harmless, robust with activity. Once we’d crossed under the Future as Fate arch, the streets grew thick with tourists. We sidestepped street vendors and shrieking children and the out-of-town fathers who swiveled their heads in our direction. It was like being at the summer festival, an event that felt safe and familiar with a touch of dark allure. The colors, the sounds, the laughter, the fizz of champagne—it was a brilliant place to experience through the lens of high lucidity.

We found Julia standing on the sidewalk outside her townhouse. When she caught sight of us, she tilted her head and gave Miles a questioning look.

“Isn’t this a surprise,” she said as we approached.

“Our plans tonight changed last minute,” Miles said. “First Friday was our safest bet.”

“Why aren’t you inside, giving readings?” Cassandra asked her.

Julia tugged at her sweater. “I don’t participate in First Friday. It’s a bit vulgar, isn’t it? I just stepped out for some air and got lost in people-watching.”

Cassandra eyed a family of four gathered around a storefront. “Seems like giving readings on First Friday would be a good way to make some money.”

Julia smiled wryly. “Ah. An opportunist.” Her gaze wandered from Cassandra and reached mine. Her eyes looked gray in the dim light of the street lamp. Unflinching.

“We need a ride home,” Miles said.

Genuine concern crossed Julia’s face. “My car hasn’t been fixed yet. I’ll have to call one of your parents to come get you.”

“No,” Cassandra said quickly. “We can find a taxi driven by a woman.”

Julia frowned. “No taxis. Let me ask a friend of mine to drive you home instead. Someone trustworthy. Come on inside while I call her.”

I glanced at the crowds over my shoulder, drawn to the activity and the hint of wonder in the air. I was still carrying the energy from my time with Owen, my newfound strength and sense of control, and I wanted it to last.

“Maybe we could stay out a little longer,” I said.

Julia was already on the stoop. She looked back at me, alarmed. “You still need to be careful, even on First Friday.”

“Please.” I worried that if I stepped inside Julia’s place, I’d lose myself—that I’d succumb to a reading, that she would learn all my secrets. “We’ll stay on this street and come back within a half hour.”

“There’s no risk,” Cassandra said. “There are children everywhere, families, lots of women.”

“That’s true,” Miles added. I looked to him with surprise. “And I’d be with them every minute. I promise.”

Julia gave Miles a long, shrewd look. “Fine. Thirty minutes, then straight back here for your ride home. But you should cover up, Cassie. Here, take my sweater.” She started to shrug out of her baggy gray zip-up, but Cassandra shook her head.

“No, thanks,” she said, and I thought of her cardigan still crumpled on the floor of Jonah’s car. “It doesn’t go with my dress.”

The sweater was already halfway off Julia’s left shoulder. She let it hover there for a moment before pulling it back on. She did this so casually that I thought she must have known from the start that Cassandra would reject her offer. I imagined Julia as a master reader, someone who had access to a set of markings more detailed than any that could exist on a single woman: a whole universe of markings, a multiverse, every moment of every day plotted out in a map only she could see. It was an impossible fantasy, but being around Julia knocked my sense of reality off-kilter.

“Don’t leave this street,” Julia said. “Stay in busy areas, and don’t get separated.”

That simple expression—don’t get separated—was enough to remind me of my brother’s fate. I studied Miles as we headed back into the crowds and thought he seemed healthy and self-assured, at the start of a long adult life. It was agony to be the only person in the world to know the truth. More than that, it was lonely—a pure, cracked-open loneliness that came not only from carrying this secret about my brother, but also from knowing there was nothing I could do to save him.

*   *   *

The three of us gravitated to a storefront across the street. The neon sign read Chloe’s Interpretation, and in the window, a novelty crystal ball glowed a garish blue.

“I love it.” Cassandra brightened. “Let’s get readings.”

Miles shook his head. “Frauds like this have no respect for the art of interpretation.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Cassandra told him. “This is for fun. It’s entertainment, and it’s perfectly allowed.”

It was true. Mapping the Future even included a brief section on the matter, titled “On Charlatans,” which issued warnings about false interpreters while acknowledging that not all such interpreters were of malicious intent. Instead, their businesses amounted to a fantasy, which some customers were happy to pay for. “On Charlatans” explained that scarves, costumes, crystal balls, scented candles, and other such frippery signaled interpretation services designated for entertainment value only. The ridiculous glowing ball in Chloe’s window was a clear sign that this was not an authentic interpretation business.

Cassandra was already opening the door, making the