Corey nodded. “You never know. That sparrow could have had an Uzi hidden—”

Daniel elbowed him to silence. Ash fell back, scuffling along, until we got far enough in. He caught up then. He didn’t join our conversation, but did stay close as we continued moving through the woods.

We found a decent place. As Daniel and I cleared twigs and brush for sleeping spots, Corey and Ash stood off to the side. Ash watched us, as if daring us to ask him to help. We didn’t. Corey seemed not to have noticed what we were doing. He was staring out into the forest, lost in thought.

I leaned over to Daniel as we both bent for the same rock. “You should probably talk to Corey about the vision thing.”

“I was just going to say the same to you.” Daniel took the rock and motioned for me to follow him a few steps away. “You’re the one he told about them in the first place.”

“Only because—”

“He didn’t want to worry me. I know. But while I think that might have been part of it, it’s partly just . . . It’s not about boxing or girls or cars. Not something he wants to talk to a guy about. Having visions? Way outside his comfort zone. Too . . .”

“Touchy-feely mystical?”

“Exactly. For that, he’d rather talk to you. Like I’d tease him or something.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m more likely to tease him. But okay. Let me give it a shot.”

“Thanks.” He glanced over at Ash. “Speaking of comfort zones, I think your brother finds it easier talking to me. Is there anything I can ask him for you?”

I shook my head. “There’s plenty I want to know, but I need to ask myself. When I think he might actually answer. Which could be never.”

“Don’t let it get to you.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

I smiled, shook my head, and walked over to Corey.

Daniel was partly right. Corey was really uncomfortable with his newfound powers. But I’m not sure talking to me helped. Everyone else seemed to have physical powers. His was mental. Corey was really better with the physical. It didn’t help that his came with the most serious side-effect of all—debilitating headaches. He felt ripped off.

“I think it’s just a transition period,” I said. “You’re coming into your powers, and the headaches are a sign of that. Once it develops properly, they’ll go away.”

“Or not.”

“Maybe if we do get you a crystal ball, that would help.”

“Thanks.”

“You know I’m teasing.”

“Yeah, and I also know I’m being a brat. I just . . . I don’t . . . I don’t understand it. What’s happening. It doesn’t feel . . .” He glanced over. “It doesn’t feel like me. Changing into a cougar fits you—you’re a nature freak. Being an evil-hunting warrior fits Daniel. Sam, too. Being mermaids or whatever fits Hayley and Nicole. But this . . . it doesn’t fit me.”

“There may be more to it,” I said. “Parts we don’t know about. No one else just has one power. We need to find out exactly what you are.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I think I might know more. I . . .” He glanced over to where Daniel was trying to engage Ash in small talk. “He should hear this. Daniel, I mean. I guess there’s no way of doing that without him overhearing.” A pointed look at Ash. “But if he makes a crack—any crack—I’ll deck him. Brother or not.”

“No argument here. He’s not exactly Mr. Congeniality.”

“No kidding. I think we’re going to need a DNA test to prove you two are related.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

ELEVEN

WE WERE BACK AT the “campsite,” which was just a sheltered clearing with an empty spot that should have held a campfire, except that we had nothing to start one.

When Corey announced he had something to tell Daniel and me, Ash decided to take a walk. I would like to think he was being polite, but he probably just didn’t want to sit through a boring personal conversation.

“I know what I am,” Corey said. “I looked up those two words you guys saw on that paper with skin-walker and benandanti. I had to guess at spellings, but I eventually got a hit.”

Daniel caught my look and gave an abashed nod. We hadn’t even thought of that. The words had been blocked when we looked them up in Salmon Creek. That should have been the first thing we researched at the library.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We should have done that.”

Corey looked confused. “Why? Finding the right term for what I am is hardly a priority. It’s not like looking up something that’s supposed to be real. Whatever we find on the web is just stories. Like with you guys. I looked up you both, too. Daniel’s supposed to be fighting for the olive crops. I bet you don’t even know where the nearest olive crop is.”

“No idea,” Daniel said.

“And Maya? You’re supposed to be an evil witch.” He paused. “Well, they got that part right.”

I pitched a pebble at him.

“Hey, I was nice to you earlier. Gotta balance it out. Point is, I looked up sileni and xana. Hayley and Nicole are xana, which is a really obscure kind of Spanish mermaid-siren cross. A blond water spirit that sings. I couldn’t find much on them. But apparently, they have some kind of evil-fighting skills themselves. You know how sirens are supposed to drive guys crazy with their singing? Well, xana can do that, too, but only to folks who deserve it.” He paused. “Which means I really gotta be a lot nicer to Hayley.”

“Good idea,” I said. “So that makes you a sileni, then. Which is . . . ?”

He poked a stick at the dirt, like he was prodding an imaginary campfire. It took a moment before he said, “You know what a satyr is?”

“Um, a guy who’s half goat?”

He glowered at me.

“What?” I said. “It is, isn’t it? Centaur is part horse. Faun is part deer. Satyr is—”

“It’s a lie. They were confused with some Roman monsters when the Romans and Greeks started hanging out together. The real Greek satyrs were followers of Dionysus. They looked human.”

“Dionysus,” I said. “God of wine, women, and song. You know, when you said you didn’t fit your type—”