The Golden Thread by Suzy McKee Charnas Page B

didn’t even know him then. It was because of Paavo that Joel and I met.”
    â€œPaavo,” Lennie said, nodding. “The street fiddler, only the fiddle was magical, and he was really a wizard from this Sorcery Hall, right? He needed you to help him with his magic because of your family talent, but what did Joel do?”
    â€œPoor Joel, he was dying for Paavo to take him as a violin student,” I said. “What Joel did was to get himself stuck in the subway as a prisoner of a monster we called the kraken.” I sighed. “No, that’s not fair. He tried to help when these three punks that were working with the kraken attacked us, up at Castle Lake. Joel kept the kraken from getting hold of the key that we needed. And then the kraken died, and Paavo died—”
    There was no way to go past that fast enough. My eyes got all hot and swimmy. I snuffled into my coat collar again until I got back in control, but it was very shaky control.
    Actually, I was feeling furious. What was the good of having beaten the kraken and then having outwitted Brightner the necromancer and his wife Ushah, only to end up being run ragged by some crazy teen-witch from another world?
    I added, “Then Joel went away to school, in up Boston. End of story.”
    â€œNot if Bosanka wants him in.”
    I didn’t have the heart to tell Lennie that I had already tried to involve Joel, or at least let him know what was going on, and the jerk had hung up on me. The prognosis, as the doctors kept saying about Gran, was not good.
    Lennie reached under his jacket and scratched thoughtfully. One thing about him, he was always very casual about body things, which could be kind of embarrassing.
    â€œWhat is it?” I snapped. “Have you got fleas?”
    His eyebrows quirked in surprise. “Just an itch.”
    â€œWell, spare me, will you?” I said.
    â€œSorry,” he said. He anchored both hands deep in his jacket pockets. “There’s more, right?” he said after a minute. “ Without Joel. The part about that guy who pretended to be our school psychologist for a little while—”
    â€œBrightner, that pig!” God, how clearly all that came back to me now—the lush, juicy voice of the man, and his hound-dog smile!
    Lennie cleared his throat delicately. “He came on to your mother, you said.”
    I poked him in the knee with my foot. “Lennie, he was after her, and me, and my Gran. Control of the family talent was what he really wanted. I wouldn’t call that exactly flirting, you know?”
    He blushed. “Me, either. But you beat him, right?”
    â€œMe and my Gran,” I said. “ We beat him.”
    â€œWell, we will beat this thing, too. Us. The Comet Committee.”
    â€œWhat?” I squawked.
    Some ducks in the puddles at the lake’s edge flapped their wings and moved further away, to a less explosive neighborhood. Also less dirty. Right around the wooden pavilion there was more litter and trash than anywhere else along the shoreline.
    I went on pretty hotly, “Lennie, were you there just now? Did you hear what Mimi said? Did you see what happened to Peter? And Joel thinks the Comet Committee is a load of crap anyway, so why should he help?”
    â€œHe’s kind of snooty, isn’t he?” Lennie said, not meanly, but thoughtfully. “I mean, he’s not too good at fitting in with people he doesn’t know.”
    I frowned at the beat-up wooden floor of the gazebo. I didn’t like to hear Lennie criticizing Joel. What did Lennie really know about him or about magic, anyway? It was Joel who had been a prisoner of the kraken, not Lennie, and it was Joel who had this mysterious hand-malady that was driving him to drink, a little anyway, and cutting him off from me when I could really use his help.
    I said angrily, “I just said, I don’t even know if I can persuade Joel to have anything to do with