Epoch by Timothy Carter Page A

same fear he’d felt when he’d seen his first elf. Of course, his mother believed in angels and demons. But it was quite another thing to actually see one.
    “Um, thanks,” Vincent said, pouring the syrup. “This is great, mom.”
    “Is there anything else I can do for you?” his mother asked, her voice just a tiny bit frantic. “A glass of milk? Or would you like to try coffee?”
    “No thanks, I’m good,” Vincent said, tucking into his pancakes. They were a little tough and lumpy; his mother never did learn the art of pancake cooking.
    “How are they, dear?” she asked, her voice cracking with tension.
    “Fine, just great,” Vincent said quickly, taking another mouthful and giving her the thumbs up.
    Man, he thought, this is starting to freak me out. What did Nod say to her?
    “What did the angel say to you, Mom?” Vincent asked. “You seem a little wigged.”
    “You would be too if you’d seen an angel,” his mother replied. “Although I did expect him to be a bit bigger … well.” She got up suddenly. “I’d better see if your father and brother are up yet.”
    Uh oh, thought Vincent, who’d almost forgotten the trouble he might face if his father and Max had any recollection of the previous night. Maybe Nod had said something to them as well? No, Max hadn’t been able to see the pixies, not really. And his dad had thought they were demons. Curious, Vincent thought, that his mother saw them as angels. Perhaps people saw them the way they wanted to.
    His mother left the kitchen and hurried upstairs. If he didn’t know better, Vincent might have thought she was now afraid of him. Vincent wasn’t sure he knew better. He wolfed down his remaining pancakes, then walked quickly to the front door and put on his shoes. He would have loved to change his clothes, as his previous day’s clothes were feeling a bit sticky, but Vincent wanted to avoid his family if he could possibly help it.
    It was a school day, but with the world ending Vincent thought he might take a day off. If he hurried, he might be able to intercept Chanteuse before she left for her own school. He would tell her everything that had happened to him in the last twelve hours, and fill her in on Portal Sites and ending epochs and so on.
    Vincent put his jacket on, and was turning the door handle when he heard someone coming down the stairs. A moment later Max appeared, still dressed in his clothes from yesterday. He looked wiped out, as if he’d slept too much, but when he saw Vincent he straightened immediately.
    “Vincent!” he said. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    “School,” Vincent replied, opening the door. “Gotta go. Bye.”
    Vincent slammed the door in his brother’s face, then ran off down the street.

Chanteuse was meditating on her front lawn as Vincent approached. Great, he thought. I haven’t missed her.
    “Hold it right there, kid.”
    Vincent spun around and looked down. Grimbowl stood on the sidewalk behind him, wearing his usual cheeky smile.
    “You wouldn’t be thinking of telling our mutual friend about last night’s goings-on,” Grimbowl asked, “would you?”
    “That is exactly what I plan to do,” Vincent said, and he resumed his walk to Chanteuse’s house.
    “Stop,” Grimbowl said.
    Pain erupted in Vincent’s head, so he stopped.
    “You will not,” Grimbowl said, “tell Chanteuse anything about our little talk. Do you get me?”
    Vincent stared daggers at the elf, who smiled back in a smug way.
    “I get you,” Vincent said. “I was going to talk to her about something else.”
    “Forget it. It’s time for you to go to work,” Grimbowl said. “Come with me.”
    Vincent was torn. He wanted very badly to talk to Chanteuse, but he knew the price of disobedience only too well. He took one last look at his meditating friend, then hurried off after the elf.
    • • •
    It was only a few minutes before Vincent realized the elf was leading him to school. That irritated him to no