The silence in the kitchen, after Sarah's pointed question, stretched taut, thick with unspoken suspicion. Katy's forced smile felt brittle, ready to shatter. The faint, ethereal chime from upstairs, the memory of the glowing origami dragon, hung in the air like incriminating evidence. Sarah's eyes, usually warm and friendly, were now sharp, analytical, missing nothing. She was a good friend, but she was also smart, and her journalistic instincts, much like Katy's own, were clearly on high alert.
"Katy," Sarah repeated, her voice low, a serious undertone replacing her earlier amusement. "Seriously. What is going on? That wasn't an alarm clock, and that wasn't just a paper airplane with a fan. Your brother… he's been acting really weird at school too. Super smart, super confident. And then that whole thing with Mark in the cafeteria? He was like a different person. And now… glowing dragons and magic chimes in your house?" She leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "You can tell me, Katy. Something's happening, isn't it?"
Katy's mind raced, desperately searching for another plausible lie, a more elaborate cover story. Her well of excuses felt utterly dry, a parched desert. How could she explain the impossible without exposing Jake? Without making Sarah think they were both losing their minds? The weight of the secret, the burden of protecting Jake, pressed down on her. She valued her friendship with Sarah, genuinely. Sarah was kind, intelligent, and a true ally. Lying to her felt like a betrayal. But exposing Jake… that was unthinkable.
"Sarah, I… I don't know what you're talking about," Katy stammered, her voice cracking slightly. She tried to meet Sarah's gaze, but her eyes kept darting away, betraying her. "Jake's just… he's just going through a phase. You know, new school, trying to fit in. He's trying out new hobbies. And the alarm clock… maybe it's just a really fancy one. With, like, special effects." She winced inwardly at how weak that sounded.
Sarah sighed, leaning back in her chair, a look of disappointment on her face. "Katy, don't lie to me. I'm your friend. And I'm not stupid. Something is clearly going on. And it's not just a 'phase.' It's… impossible. But it's happening. And it's happening here." She gestured around the kitchen, as if expecting a spontaneously manifested teapot to float across the room. "Is it… is it something about the house? Is it haunted? Did you guys, like, find something when you moved in?"
Katy's heart pounded. A haunted house? That was almost better than the truth. Almost. But it was still a lie. "No! No, it's not haunted! It's just… Jake. He's… he's just being Jake." She knew she sounded ridiculous.
Just then, the sound of footsteps on the stairs, slow and deliberate, broke the tense silence. Both girls looked towards the hallway. Jake emerged, looking perfectly normal. He was wearing a plain t-shirt and shorts, his hair slightly rumpled, a book in his hand. The dork persona was fully engaged. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and then, without a word, walked towards the living room.
Katy felt a surge of both relief and renewed anxiety. Relief that Jake was acting normal, that he hadn't walked in conjuring fireballs. Anxiety, because Sarah's eyes were now fixed on him, scrutinizing his every move.
"Hey, guys," Jake said, his voice casual, as he entered the living room. He sat down on the sofa, opening his book. He didn't look at Sarah directly, but Katy knew he was acutely aware of the tension. He knew Sarah was suspicious.
Sarah, however, wasn't about to let it go. She followed Katy into the living room, her gaze still fixed on Jake. "Jake," she began, her voice firm, "what was that flying paper dragon earlier? And that chime? Katy says it's your new alarm clock."
Jake looked up from his book, his expression a picture of innocent confusion. "Paper dragon? Alarm clock? What are you talking about, Sarah?" He even managed a faint, dorky frown. "I just came downstairs. I was reading." He held up his book, a dense-looking historical fiction novel.
Katy jumped in, desperate to maintain the facade. "Yeah, Sarah, I told you! He's just really into advanced origami now. And he's got this super quiet alarm clock. It's really fancy."
Sarah ignored Katy, her eyes locked on Jake. "Jake, I saw it. It glowed. It flew. It made a whirring sound. And that chime sounded like… like nothing I've ever heard. And you've been acting really strange at school. You're like a genius all of a sudden. And you took down Mark like… like a superhero. What's going on?"
Jake closed his book, placing it carefully on his lap. He looked at Sarah, then at Katy, a subtle, almost imperceptible flicker of his Aethelred awareness in his eyes, quickly masked by his human persona. He knew the jig was almost up. He knew Katy was struggling.
He decided to play it cool, to deflect with a touch of his old dorky charm, mixed with a hint of the truth, just enough to confuse. "Sarah, I appreciate your… keen observation skills," he began, his voice calm, a slight, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "But I think you've been reading too many fantasy novels. A glowing, flying paper dragon? That sounds pretty cool, but also pretty impossible, wouldn't you say?"
"But I saw it!" Sarah insisted, her voice rising in frustration. "And the chime! And you, Jake! You're different! You're not the same Jake who struggled with math and got picked on by Mark!"
Jake sighed, a theatrical, put-upon sigh. "Look, Sarah, I get it. New school, new me, right? Maybe I just… decided to stop being such a dork. Maybe I studied really hard. Maybe I got tired of Mark's nonsense and decided to stand up for myself. People change, you know." He shrugged, a casual gesture. "As for the sounds and the… alleged flying paper creatures, maybe you're just tired from cleaning your garage. Or maybe this old house has some weird drafts."
Katy watched him, a mix of awe and terror. He was good. Too good. He was weaving a plausible (if flimsy) narrative, using his human self to deflect the impossible. But Sarah wasn't entirely convinced.
Sarah narrowed her eyes, studying Jake intently. "That's convenient. Everything's just a coincidence? You suddenly become a genius, you take down the bully, and your house has 'weird drafts' that make glowing paper dragons fly and chime like magic bells?" Her voice was laced with heavy skepticism. "I don't believe you, Jake. Something's going on. And Katy knows too, don't you, Katy?" She turned her gaze to Katy, her eyes pleading for honesty.
Katy felt trapped between a rock and an impossible place. Her loyalty to Jake, to their shared secret, battled with her desire to be honest with her friend. She looked at Jake, a silent plea in her eyes. Help me. What do I do?
Jake met her gaze, a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. He knew. He knew she was at her limit. He knew he had to do something. He couldn't reveal the full truth, not to Sarah, not yet. But he could provide a distraction, a new mystery, a new rabbit hole for Sarah to fall into.
"Sarah," Jake said, his voice suddenly serious, dropping the casual act. "Look, I can't explain everything right now. It's… complicated. And it's not just about me." He paused, letting that sink in. "But if you're really looking for answers, if you're really interested in… unexplained phenomena, then maybe you should look into something else. Something I've been researching."
Sarah's eyes immediately sharpened, her journalistic curiosity piqued. "What? What have you been researching?"
Jake leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper, drawing Sarah in. "There's this old legend. Not the Whispering Architect, that was a dead end. But something else. Something about… 'cubic' power. People who can manipulate reality, not just in one place, but through specific, geometric patterns. They say it's linked to… unusual energy signatures. And there's supposed to be someone, a recluse, who knows more about it. Someone who can help us understand it." He made sure to use just enough vague, intriguing language to make it sound like a genuine, if outlandish, research topic.
Katy stared at Jake, a mix of surprise and understanding. He was giving Sarah a new lead, a new mystery to chase. He was diverting her, not with a lie, but with a partial truth, a new, carefully selected breadcrumb.
Sarah's eyes gleamed. "Cubic power? Geometric patterns? Unusual energy signatures? Who is this recluse?" Her suspicion momentarily forgotten, replaced by the thrill of a new, complex puzzle.
"That's the next step of the research," Jake said, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "It's hard to find anything concrete. But if anyone can dig it up, it's you, Sarah. You're a great researcher."
Sarah's chest puffed out slightly, her ego momentarily soothed. "I am pretty good, aren't I? Okay. 'Cubic power.' I'll look into it. And if I find anything, you guys better tell me what's really going on." She still had her suspicions, but now, she had a new mission.
Katy watched Sarah, then looked at Jake. He was good. He was really, really good. He had managed to deflect Sarah's immediate suspicion, not by denying the impossible, but by offering a bigger, more intriguing impossible. The secret was still safe, for now. But the boundaries of their lives, and the truth, were becoming increasingly complex, increasingly intertwined with forces beyond their control. The game, it seemed, had just added a new player.