I turned to Liv, who was standing frozen next to me, her eyes focused on something in the distance. She looked as though she was too freaked out to move, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. I twisted around to see Charlie standing in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes locked on mine. Rufus was alert at his side, his ears pricked up, tail tucked between his legs. But something was…off.
“What the…?” I gasped. “What happened to you?”
Charlie’s normally dull, dark brown eyes had turned gold, his irises flickering as bright as the scales on a goldfish. Rufus’ eyes, too, had changed to a fiery shade of yellowish-orange.
I slammed my eyes shut, trying to will away the impossibility of it all. But when I opened them again, the man and his dog were still standing in front of me, glowing eyes still firmly locked on my own. I glanced around, hoping to see pedestrians stopping and staring at the two odd creatures. I needed someone to confirm that I wasn’t losing my mind.
But aside from my best friend, the street was eerily empty.
I reached out for Liv, whose eyes were still fixed, unblinking, on something in the distance.
“Hey,” I whispered, squeezing her forearm. “Turn around. You need to see this.”
But she didn’t react. Didn’t move. Didn’t seem to hear me at all. I poked her with my finger, but her shoulder felt hard and unyielding. She didn’t so much as flinch, let alone answer me.
It was then I realized the rest of the world had come to a stop, too. The cars on the street had gone stone still. The leaves of the fluttering, summer trees had frozen in mid-rustle.
Not a single bird was flying through the air or chirping in the treetops. The crisp breeze that had been whistling around all morning had gone eerily mute. No one was walking along the sidewalk, and none of the usual cars was cruising by, despite the fact we were standing on Fairhaven’s busiest street at one of its busiest times of day.
“What’s going on?” I asked, turning back to face Charlie, who was still staring at me, his chest heaving with effort.
“I have something for you,” he said, his breathing choked off and labored like he was trying to talk underwater. “On your seventeenth birthday.”
“Forget my birthday,” I nearly shouted, making a sweeping gesture at the frozen-in-time scene around us. “Everything just stopped!”
“We haven’t,” he gurgled. “As for you, you’re just getting ready to start.”
“Wait—how did you even know it’s my birthday?”
Instead of replying, he raised his left arm and held something out in his palm. A small red box, no bigger than a deck of playing cards. A silver ribbon was tied neatly around it, shining bright in the sunlight.
I looked down at Rufus, searching his face for a sign. His tail flicked back and forth in what seemed like some kind of canine encouragement, his tongue dangling out in a friendly pant. His eyes were still a few fiery shades of gold, but otherwise he was behaving like a relatively normal dog.
“Okay, buddy,” I said. “But I’m holding you responsible if something horrible happens to me.”
Rufus let out a loud bark.
I inched forward and took the elegant little package from Charlie’s outstretched hand. “What is this?”
But when I pulled my eyes up to Charlie’s again, the odd glow had left his irises. He was shaking his head, like he couldn’t figure out where he was or what was happening.
“What?” he growled in his usual low rumble. “What’d you say?”
“I was asking…what…this…”
As I spoke, the world started up again, as if someone had turned an ignition key and coaxed it to life. To my right, a car whizzed by. Behind Charlie, the café’s door opened, and a woman came striding out, excusing herself impatiently while he backed out of her way, pulling Rufus with him. I looked down to see that the dog’s eyes had also reverted to their usual dark brown. Now ignoring me, the pair plopped themselves back down in their usual spot, with Charlie muttering something unintelligible as he picked up the coffee I’d bought him and took a long swig.
“Vega!” Liv called out from up ahead on the sidewalk. “What’s the hold-up?”
“Sorry,” I said, forcing the tremor out of my voice. “I…thought I dropped something back here.”
Shoving the red box into my bag, I turned her way. “You didn’t happen to notice anything weird just now, did you?”
“Besides you pretending not to be into Callum and then buying a coffee and a donut for a guy you hardly know and his dog? No. Nothing weird about any of that at all.”
Just as Liv shot me a skeptical look, a Bleep-Bloop! sound erupted from inside her jacket pocket. “Oh, crapola!” she said, pulling her phone out and reading the message on its screen. “I forgot I have a dentist’s appointment at eleven. My mom’s wondering where I am.” She stared at the screen for a second before looking up again. “I’m going to have to take a rain check on the park. I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I replied with a withering smile. “Totally fine.” I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my mind, but other than that, no worries.
She pulled me in for a quick, one-armed birthday hug. “Have a great day,” she said before dashing in the direction of home, her icy mocha monstrosity still in hand.
Reaching into my satchel to make sure I hadn’t imagined Charlie’s gift, I jogged across the street to Norfolk Commons and slipped through the large wrought iron gate. I headed for the first unoccupied park bench I saw, all the while trying to calm my racing heart. Drawing my hood up over my head, I plopped down, pulled the package out of my bag, and set it down in my lap.
“Should I open you?” I asked, perfectly aware of how idiotic it was to ask an inanimate object such a question. Or any question, for that matter. After staring at it for several seconds to reassure myself it wasn’t going to explode, I picked it up, held it to my ear, and shook it.
I couldn’t hear anything.
Holding my breath, I tugged at the end of the silver bow holding the box shut, and the glittering fabric slipped loose in my hand. I put my fingers on the box’s lid and lifted it open, wincing as I did. Charlie was a nice guy and all, but a sudden thought flashed through my mind that the gift could easily be a dead mouse or something equally repulsive Rufus had found behind a dumpster.
I swear, Charlie. If this is gift-wrapped doggie poop, I’m going to dump the next cup of coffee I buy for you on your head.
Inside the box, though, was a delicate golden cloth, wrapped around an object. The cloth itself was exquisitely beautiful, as though it was spun from the finest gold thread.
“Wow,” I gasped, stunned at its opulence.
I picked up a corner of the delicate fabric between my fingers and lifted it, peering underneath. It was then that the strangest item met my eyes: a silver key so ornate that at first, I didn’t recognize what it was.
Its head was shaped like a vicious, fire-breathing dragon. Just below that was a dark red gem, surrounded by what appeared to be a frame of small diamonds.
I stared in wonder at the trinket. I’d never seen anything like it. The piece was intriguing, like something a medieval magician might have worn on a long chain around his neck while concocting spells or zapping lightning bolts at the king’s enemies or whatever it was those guys used to do.