The Gathering Storm Page 2

  “Looks like the Pony Patrol is ready to prance into seventh grade,” Fiona said suddenly, in a voice so low that Mack wasn’t even sure he had heard her correctly.

  “Did you just—” he began, but Fiona put her finger to her lips. Mack saw her eyes sparkle with mischief. Who would’ve thought Fiona had a snarky side? Mack wondered. Everybody called Lizbeth and her friends the Pony Patrol because they always wore their hair in perfect ponytails—but nobody Mack knew would ever dare to say those words aloud and especially so close to them. Somehow, though, Fiona seemed completely unconcerned, even as Mack glanced furtively at Lizbeth and the other girls. Gabriella Rivera was also part of their clique. In fact, she should have been right next to Lizbeth, but Mack didn’t see her anywhere. Weird, he thought. Maybe she’s got Mrs. Williams for homeroom too, unless she’s sick or something.

  Why else would anyone miss the first day of school?

  Chapter 2

  A Special Exemption

  Gabriella clutched the edge of the sink and leaned forward, resting her forehead against the cold mirror. She closed her eyes, as if she were sleeping. Actually, Gabriella wished she were still asleep. Then she could wake up from what was surely a nightmare—or at least the weirdest dream of all time.

  One. Two. Three, Gabriella counted silently. She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. The eyes staring back at her were bright, blazing gold, without a sliver of white; they were the color of the sun on the hottest day of summer. Their tiny, round pupils, which reminded Gabriella of a cat’s, were dark and unfathomable. Gabriella’s stomach lurched as she shut those eyes, those strange and unfamiliar eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at them; though they were beautiful and mysterious, they were definitely not human. Was she hallucinating?

  “Gabriella!” her mother called again. “Move it! You’re going to be late!”

  Gabriella shook her head, trying to focus. Being late for the first day of school was the least of her worries.

  Change, Gabriella commanded her eyes. Change back. Change. Now.

  She took ten slow, measured breaths. Then steeling herself for whatever truth the mirror might reveal, she opened her eyes again.

  Gabriella could’ve cried with relief.

  Her eyes were back—her ordinary, average, boring brown eyes. The same eyes that Ma called “her chocolate kisses.” The same eyes that Gabriella’s little sister, Maritza, had. Gabriella wasn’t exactly obsessed with her looks, but she’d never been happier to stare at herself in the mirror.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Mija?” Ma said. “You okay in there?”

  Gabriella grimaced. Now, Ma didn’t just sound annoyed—she sounded worried.

  “Yeah!” Gabriella called. “Be right out!”

  Gabriella turned the faucet on full blast and splashed cold water onto her face. Then she raked her hair into a tight, smooth ponytail. The whole time, she never looked away from her reflection in the mirror—and to Gabriella’s relief, her eyes stayed the same.

  This ponytail is no good, Gabriella thought suddenly. If her eyes changed at school—Gabriella didn’t even want to think about it, but she forced herself to do so all the same—it would be totally obvious with her hair pulled back.

  There was only one thing to do.

  Gabriella yanked her hair out of its ponytail and fanned it around her shoulders. If she absolutely had to, Gabriella knew she could bow her head and let her hair fall in front of her face if her eyes changed at school—and she had to hide them—

  The doorknob rattled. “Gabriella?” her mother asked.

  Gabriella shut off the water and took one last look at her eyes. Normal. Safe. She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. Ma and Maritza were standing in the hallway, waiting for her.

  “Sorry!” Gabriella said, forcing her voice to sound bright and cheerful. “I was feeling a little, uh, sick, but I’m better now.”

  Ma nodded sympathetically. “Your stomach, huh? Nerves. I always used to get them on the first day of school. You look kind of pale, though. . . .” She reached out and pressed her hand against Gabriella’s forehead. Normally, Gabriella would have ducked away, but she stood very still and let her mother check to see if she had a fever, like she used to when Gabriella was little, before Maritza was born. Back then, Gabriella used to think her mom could fix anything. Now, though, Gabriella knew better. She remembered those glowing cat eyes staring back at her from the mirror and looked down.

  “Nice and cool,” Ma said, and Gabriella could tell she was trying to decide if Gabriella needed to stay home.

  “I’m good for school, Ma,” Gabriella said quickly. What would be the point of hiding out in the house all day? Just in case her eyes got weird again? Besides, Coach Connors would be beyond mad if Gabriella wasn’t at soccer practice.

  “You sure?” asked Ma.

  “Positive,” Gabriella said.

  “Okay,” Ma said finally. “Let’s go. I’ll drop you off.”

  Gabriella slung her backpack over her shoulder and followed her mother to the front door. She paused for a moment before stepping into the sunshine. Maybe it would be safer to stay at home . . . just in case her eyes changed again.

  But Gabriella knew she would have to face school—and her friends—eventually.

  When it was time for lunch, Gabriella breathed a sigh of relief for the first time all day. She was in the home stretch now: five classes done and her eyes hadn’t changed, not even once. Gabriella knew that for a fact because she’d taken a peek in her compact mirror whenever she thought she could get away with it. She’d even dashed to the bathroom twice between classes—just to be sure. After Gabriella grabbed her lunch tray and headed over to her usual table, she was ready to forget all about her eyes. That was good because Gabriella could see that she had a new problem to deal with: a backpack blocking Gabriella’s regular seat next to Lizbeth.

  That was a bad sign.

  “Hey,” Gabriella said, hoping Lizbeth would move the backpack as soon as she noticed her. Hoping it had just been a mistake.

  Lizbeth looked up. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of Gabriella. Is it my eyes? Gabriella wondered anxiously. If they had changed, Lizbeth would notice. She noticed everything.

  “Did you . . . want to sit here?” asked Lizbeth.

  “Yeah,” Gabriella said, but it came out sounding like a question. “Is that okay?”

  Lizbeth pursed her lips. “It’s just . . . I haven’t even seen you,” she said. “You didn’t come to my locker before school, you are obviously ignoring the text I sent last night about your hair—”

  Ponytails. Of course. Everyone else at the table had one. Gabriella set down her tray and awkwardly pulled her hair back into her fist. “My elastic broke,” she said quickly. It was surprising how easily the lie came to her.

  “Ohhhh,” Lizbeth said. She flashed her most dazzling smile as she pulled an extra elastic off her wrist. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  As soon as Gabriella pulled her hair into a ponytail, Lizbeth moved the backpack. Gabriella slipped into the now-empty chair and started eating. With her mouth full, Gabriella knew she wouldn’t have to join Lizbeth in mocking everyone else in the caf.

  Near the end of lunch, Lizbeth held out her hand. “Give me your schedule,” she ordered Gabriella.

  Gabriella dug it out of her backpack and obediently handed it over.

  Lizbeth scanned the crumpled paper and then wrinkled her nose. “ ‘Independent Study: Physical Education’?” she asked. “What’s that? Like, ‘Jock Gym for Superjocks’?”

  Jock Gym for Superjocks actually sounded like a class that Gabriella would love to take, but she couldn’t let Lizbeth know—especially when there was a jealous glint in Lizbeth’s baby-blue eyes. Instead, Gabriella sighed heavily, as if she were dreading her next class. “It’s in the ancillary gym,” she pointed out. “Can you imagine? What a dump.”

  It was the right thing to say. Lizbeth’s expression immediately ch
anged from envy to sympathy. “You poor thing. I can’t believe they haven’t torn down the ancillary gym yet.”

  “Yeah!” Daisy spoke up. “It should be condemned!”

  Lizbeth fixed an icy stare on her. “Why are you talking?” she asked.

  When Daisy clamped her mouth shut, Gabriella knew that she wouldn’t say a word for the rest of the day. A hot rush of anger flared inside her. Who does Lizbeth think she is? Gabriella thought. She was about to say something when she suddenly remembered exactly who Lizbeth Harris was: the mayor’s daughter. The most popular—and most powerful—girl at Willow Cove Middle School. And the meanest, too. One wrong word from Gabriella, and Lizbeth would destroy her.

  It was safer to keep her mouth shut.

  Just then, the bell rang. Lunch was over. Gabriella had never been so grateful to escape from the cafeteria—not even on fish sandwich day.

  Thanks to Lizbeth, Gabriella didn’t need to check her schedule to know that her next class was in the ancillary gym. Though she played three sports at Willow Cove Middle School—soccer, basketball, and softball—and ran track, Gabriella had never been inside the ancillary gym before. She had often wondered what was inside that dark and deserted building and behind those padlocked doors.

  Today, though, the locks were gone, and the building blazed with lights. A woman stood in front of the doors with her hands behind her back. She wore a purple tunic over simple dark pants; her black-and-silver hair had been twisted into a thick braid that cascaded down her back. The woman’s eyes seemed to see right through Gabriella, as though they were looking into her soul.

  “Gabriella Rivera,” the woman said with a slight nod. “Welcome.”

  “Hi,” Gabriella replied, wondering how the woman knew her name. “Is this—”

  “Go inside,” she interrupted. “The others are already here.”

  Gabriella pulled open the doors and stepped inside the ancillary gym. With that first step, all her expectations vanished. The ancillary gym wasn’t a run-down, dilapidated, old dump. It was clean and bright inside, with gleaming equipment that looked new: balance beams; hurdles; punching bags; scratchy, yellow climbing ropes; and shiny rings that dangled from the ceiling. At the far side of the room, a large pool rippled with clear, blue water.

  This is insane, Gabriella thought as a grin spread across her face. The gym was perfectly equipped for high-intensity training. How was it possible that the ancillary gym stayed locked up all the time? Nobody else at Willow Cove Middle School even knew about the pool—Gabriella was sure about that. The swim team always had to take a bus to practice in the high school pool. There had to be some reason why the ancillary gym was such a well-kept secret, but in that moment, Gabriella didn’t even care. If this is Jock Gym for Superjocks, sign me up! she thought.

  “Go take a seat with your friends,” the woman said as she joined Gabriella inside the gym. Gabriella turned around fast, half expecting to see Lizbeth, Daisy, and Katie behind her. Her tense shoulders relaxed when she realized that the teacher meant the other students in the class: Makoto Kimura, Darren Smith, and Fiona Murphy. Gabriella knew them—barely. She wouldn’t exactly call them her friends.

  “Sure,” Gabriella replied quickly, and then crossed the gym to the single metal bench where the others were sitting in a row. Darren moved over a little, smiling at Gabriella as he made room for her. That’s when Gabriella realized that the ancillary gym didn’t have bleachers. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. She’d been in a lot of school gyms—all over the state, in fact—but she’d never seen one without bleachers.

  The teacher strode across the room until she was standing directly in front of the bench. Under her sharp, watchful gaze, everyone sat up a little straighter.

  “I’m Ms. Therian,” she said. Her voice wasn’t loud, exactly, but it carried across the gym, echoing off the concrete walls, as if she had a megaphone in her hand. “This is Independent Study: Physical Education—at least, that’s what the outside world thinks it is. But you all know better, don’t you?”

  Do we? Gabriella wondered, shifting uncomfortably on the hard bench. She had a strange feeling that this was no ordinary gym class . . . not even Jock Gym for Superjocks.

  Fiona’s pale hand fluttered into the air. “Gym is a requirement for graduation,” she said. “Are we getting a special exemption?”

  “In a manner. To everyone else at this school, you’re in gym class,” Ms. Therian explained. “But what you’re going to be learning in this room is far more important.”

  A heavy silence settled over the students as they waited for her to continue.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you this,” Ms. Therian said. “In the many years that I’ve taught, I’ve found it’s best to go ahead and say it: you are Changers. What humans might call shape-shifters. And you’re here to begin your training.”

  Gabriella blinked. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly. . . .

  Surely this was some kind of a joke. . . .

  She didn’t even know what a shape-shifter was. . . .

  Mack’s hand shot up. “Ms. Therian, you’re kidding, right?” he asked. “I mean, shape-shifters are awesome and all, but they’re about as real as . . . I don’t know, superheroes or zombies . . .”

  “Comic-book stuff,” Darren scoffed.

  Fiona stood up. “May I go to the main office?” she asked. “I need to make sure my transcript will be okay, and this definitely doesn’t sound like gym class, which is a requirement for graduation, like I said, and—”

  What happened next was so sudden, and so surprising, that none of the students could quite describe it. The lights of the ancillary gym flickered unevenly, as though a sudden surge of power had drawn electricity away from them. The air crackled. A brisk breeze ruffled Gabriella’s hair, like a storm was brewing. But that didn’t make sense; they were indoors.

  There was a flash of light so blinding that Gabriella had no choice but to shield her eyes. A fire, she thought wildly as she caught the acrid scent of burning wires. Gabriella pulled her hand away from her face, searching desperately for the exit as her eyes adjusted.

  But there was no escape, even though the doors were still unlocked. Because there, in front of the exit, stood the most massive, terrifying creature Gabriella had ever seen.

  Chapter 3

  The Changing Stone

  The beast’s sharp claws went click, click, click on the cold wooden floor. Gray, shaggy fur covered her tense muscles. When she turned to look at the students, she peered at them through hard, glittering eyes over a long snout.

  Darren had seen wolves before—his uncle had taken him camping last winter, and for Darren, once had been enough—but this wolf was so much more terrifying than anything he could have imagined. Instinctively, he thrust his arm in front of the other kids to protect them. Gabriella batted his arm away. Darren glanced at her in confusion and got his second surprise: there was something wrong with her eyes . . . Their color and shape—

  Another flash blinded Darren. Bright sparkles crowded his field of vision; he rubbed his fingers against his eyes, trying to clear his sight. As the sparkles began to fade, Darren realized the wolf was gone. In its place was Ms. Therian. She regarded them with a calm, even stare.

  “Now that I have your full attention,” she said, “I’ll proceed. Sit down, Fiona.”

  Darren glanced over at Fiona out of the corner of his eye. She was so shocked that she didn’t sit until Mack tugged her arm.

  “That was my Changer form,” Ms. Therian explained. “You all look so alarmed. I assure you that you’re not in any danger. . . . Not from me, at least. I know what I have to tell you is difficult to comprehend. But as they say, seeing is believing.

  “Like I was saying, you are all Changers,” Ms. Therian continued. “What does that mean? Well, it’s a lot more than what they tell you in comic books.”

  Darren flushed as Ms. Therian looked at him.

  “Each one of you can change into a unique animal, anim
als that humans today believe only exist in myths and folktales. With your other form comes incredible powers—powers that ordinary humans can only dream of.”

  Powers? Darren thought. Now he knew that Ms. Therian was full of crazy talk. The only power he had was the ability to sleep in past lunch.

  “You are not the first of your kind, not by far. You are the next generation. In ancient times we lived openly among ordinary humans, who were grateful to us for our protection and aid. But as most things go, the humans eventually turned on us, frightened of our power. Many Changers died, but some went into hiding and survive today, through you.”

  Ms. Therian stopped speaking and gazed upon the students. Darren stared back, but it was impossible to even think that what she was saying could be true.

  “But we can talk more about history later. For now, all you need to know is that your identity as a Changer must be kept secret at all times—not just for your own safety, but for the safety of all of us—”

  “Wait.”

  No one was more shocked by the sound of Darren’s voice than Darren himself. But he had so many questions. To be honest, he couldn’t believe the others weren’t speaking up. No matter what the class, Fiona always had something to say, and Gabriella wasn’t exactly shy. Even Mack was kind of a chatterbox. You’d never know any of that, though, from the way they were all sitting in silence.

  Darren expected Ms. Therian to scold him after he’d spoken out so rudely. But to his surprise she simply nodded and said, “Go ahead.”

  “How do you know we’re . . . What? Changers?” he said. “I mean, we have nothing in common. Why us? How can you be so sure?”

  “We’ve known since the day you were born,” she said. “It runs in families. Sometimes it skips a generation, or even several generations. Sometimes a girl will have the ability, but her sister will not. The point is, there are so few Changer families left that it’s not hard for us to track them. Of course, every so often there’s an aberration and a spontaneous new line of Changers emerges. They are a bit more challenging to track, but we do our best.”