All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [53]
That wasn’t what Eliot had expected. He and Fiona had received Cs on that placement exam. Well, he got a C+. In this household, the only passing grade was an A.
“I spoke with Miss Westin,” Audrey said. “She was impressed with you . . . considering the challenges we had with your homeschooling.”
“Challenges?” Fiona dropped her chopsticks.
Before Fiona could start protesting, though, Audrey cut her off. “I see you have the reading list.” Audrey nodded at the pages near Fiona. “Two sets of those books are being delivered by courier this evening. I didn’t want either of you to wait another instant to make up for lost time.”
Fiona reddened.
Audrey continued, holding out her hand to forestall her. “I know what you’re going to say—the lies, the deliberate obfuscation of our family’s history, and how it is ‘not fair’—and then I would tell you it was for your own good, and life is never fair, and that we should focus on our present duties. So, let us imagine we’ve already covered that well-trodden territory, so I may give you your gifts.”
Fiona blinked.
Eliot didn’t understand. Their dangerous journey today seemed almost par for their new lives. And the mountain of reading they’d have to do seemed right, too. But Audrey accepting a C on tests? Even being proud of them? And now presents on a day that wasn’t their birthday?
That was just plain weird.
Audrey said to Cecilia, “Go prepare dessert.”
“Oh yes, yes.” Cecilia said, and backed toward the kitchen. “Yes.”
“And,” Audrey called after her, “do not add anything to it.” She turned back to Eliot and Fiona. “It’s ice cream and cake from the Whole Foods Market.”
She opened the cigar box she had carried down. Audrey removed two cards, setting one before Fiona, and then Eliot.
He stared into the card’s gleaning stardust platinum surface. It had raised numbers and in capital letters, his name: ELIOT Z. POST. He’d seen these before, working at the pizza parlor, but he never believed he’d have a real credit card himself.
Audrey handed him a ballpoint pen. “Sign the back,” she said. “That’s very important.”
Eliot obeyed, and then handed the pen to his sister. Fiona looked dumbstruck.
“You’ll need a thousand little things for school,” Audrey explained. “More books, clothes, athletic equipment, or the occasional snack. You are to use these for all your expenses.”
Eliot picked the card up. It seemed heavier than plastic, like maybe it was real platinum.
“These cards are financially backed by the League,” Audrey told them, her voice solidifying into its normal somber tone. “I therefore expect you to use them responsibly.”
“We could buy anything?” Eliot asked.
“If you need,” Audrey said. “Yes.”
Before, Eliot always had to scrape together spare change just to buy some juice. Limitless money? It seemed like another test. Like that never-ending box of chocolates his sister had gotten.
“There is a number on the back of the card,” Audrey told them. “Call it if the cards are lost or stolen. It is also the number to call if you need to contact the League for any emergency. Program it into your phones tonight.”
From the cigar box she removed two contoured black shapes and gave one each to Fiona and Eliot.
It easily fit his hand, and his thumb naturally found a recessed button. He pressed it, and the shape clicked open. There was a tiny keyboard, a number pad, and computer screen that lit up.
“I understand that no respectable teenager today is without one of these contraptions,” Audrey said. “I left the phones’ instruction manuals in your rooms.”
“Wow!” Eliot breathed. “Thanks, really!” He got up and gave Audrey a hug.
“Thank you, Mother,” Fiona said. She got up and gave Audrey a hug as well.
“Now, go wash up.” Audrey brushed volcanic ash from Fiona’s skirt. “I cannot believe Cecilia allowed