Chapter 206: A Late-Night Detour

Cyrus walked alone beneath the streetlights, with the noise of the waterfront gradually giving way to the bustle of Bellhaven's shopping district. More people appeared as he approached the restaurants, some carrying takeout bags and others lingering outside storefronts that hadn't closed for the night.

The academy's fall trip lasted two days and one night. After tonight and tomorrow morning's activities, everyone would be heading back to Grayhaven. Cyrus had enjoyed himself more than expected, although the evening had turned into something of a mess. He had two days to answer Audra's confession, he'd just finished dealing with Iris's attempt to frame him, and he'd somehow missed the late-night meal that had persuaded him to leave the hotel in the first place.

There was still time to correct that last problem.

He wandered down the street eating whatever caught his interest. A warm sandwich disappeared first, followed by something from another counter farther along. Whenever his hands were empty, he seemed to find another excuse to buy a snack. He was careful with money when he needed to be, but there was no point visiting somewhere new and refusing to enjoy the food.

By the time he finally admitted he couldn't eat another bite, he was thoroughly satisfied. He bought a bottled sweet drink instead and wandered past the smaller shops and vendor tables, examining their displays while he sipped.

He still hadn't decided what to say to Audra. He wasn't eager to return to the subject, either. There was something else he'd meant to do before leaving Bellhaven: find a little souvenir for Faye Larkin.

Bringing a friend something from a trip was normal, wasn't it? People did it all the time. As far as Cyrus was concerned, his friendships with Faye and Audra had both seemed perfectly ordinary. Yet one of them had apparently turned into a confession without his noticing.

Faye was easier to understand. She was consistently kind to him, and he didn't have to examine every conversation afterward for a meaning he'd missed. Thinking of her now, he pictured her familiar figure and the slightly lonely air she sometimes carried.

It was a shame she couldn't enjoy this trip. He'd had a good time at the marine park, and she was missing out on it.

A small table near the edge of the street caught his attention. An elderly woman sat behind it, working strands of thread between weathered fingers. Beside her, a girl who looked fourteen or fifteen was trying to copy the pattern. Bracelets, clips, and other handmade accessories covered the display in tidy rows.

Cyrus stopped in front of a purple bracelet. Tiny pale flowers with lavender centers were woven into the band, their petals resembling miniature hydrangeas. The design was simple, but it looked as though someone had taken real care making it.

"How much is this one?" he asked.

The girl lifted her head from her work. At the sight of a customer, she broke into an open, enthusiastic smile.

"That one is ten dollars," she said.

Cyrus pointed to a hair clip decorated with flowers in nearly the same shade.

"And what about that one?"

"That one's twelve dollars," she said. "If you take both, I can do twenty for you."

"That works. Thanks," Cyrus replied.

The girl accepted his payment and began packing the two pieces. She laid them in a clean handkerchief, folded the fabric over the flowers, and slipped the bundle into a small bag. She handled everything with such concentration that she seemed relieved when she finally passed it across the table without crushing anything.

Cyrus took the bag. He was about to leave when the girl looked up again, gathering her courage.

"Are those for your girlfriend?" she asked.

"They're for a friend," he said.

"Oh, that's nice. I hope she likes them."

She nodded, although his answer only gave her more to think about. Both pieces carried the same little hydrangea design. Whoever was getting them must matter to him quite a bit. Maybe they were close friends, or maybe they were going to be something more and he hadn't worked that out yet.

She watched him disappear into the pedestrians, then leaned toward her grandmother and shared her theory with a grin. The older woman gave her a light tap on the head and told her to stop making up stories about customers. The girl stuck out her tongue. She trusted her instincts on this one.

It was getting late, and the two began putting away their merchandise. Between folding the cloth and collecting the unfinished bracelets, they left their small cash box sitting off to one side. The girl noticed it was gone only when she caught sight of someone hurrying away with it.

Cyrus, meanwhile, had tucked the souvenir into his pocket and was feeling pleased with his purchase.

Something expensive would have been a poor choice for Faye. She would probably feel obliged to repay him in some way, even though he wouldn't expect anything back. A bracelet and matching clip were inexpensive enough to accept without fuss. At most, she might cook a little extra the next time he visited.

That prospect wasn't exactly a downside.

He also had a feeling the purple flowers would suit her. He couldn't explain why. There had been plenty of other designs on the table, but he'd gone straight to those two without seriously considering anything else.

He was wondering whether to pick up some food to bring back when a man rushed past him.

A girl's voice followed almost immediately.

"He stole our money! Somebody please stop him!"

Cyrus recognized the girl from the table. She was chasing the man as quickly as she could, calling for help between breaths. A couple of people farther down the sidewalk started after him, but he'd already built up a lead. Most of the passersby stayed where they were, turning their heads as he ran past.

At that rate, the thief would be gone before anyone caught up.

Cyrus took a moment to understand what was happening, then moved.

The man was beginning to look over his shoulder, apparently convinced he'd shaken off the people chasing him, when something caught the back of his jacket. His momentum stopped abruptly. He staggered and fell hard onto the sidewalk.

He coughed as he pushed himself up, then looked at the young man who'd grabbed him. The sight of Cyrus's handsome, impassive face made his own expression twist.

"You seriously couldn't mind your own business?" the thief snapped.

As he spoke, he pulled a folding knife from his pocket and flicked the blade open.

Cyrus regarded him without much change in expression. What was it with tonight? First Iris, then Audra's confession, and now a thief with a knife. He'd come out to eat, and the evening seemed determined to make that as difficult as possible.

He didn't regret leaving the hotel, though. The food had been excellent.

Looking at the blade, he understood a little better why so many people had hesitated to give chase. Helping a stranger sounded simple until the stranger's problem turned around and threatened you. Nobody on the sidewalk could have known what the thief was carrying.

It was fortunate Cyrus had reached him first.

The thief lunged with the knife. Cyrus watched the movement, waited for an opening, and kicked his wrist. The knife flew from his hand and skittered away across the pavement.

Losing the weapon barely slowed the man. He threw himself forward and slammed into Cyrus, apparently hoping to knock him off balance. The charge caught Cyrus squarely, but he didn't even stagger. He caught the man and forced him facedown against the sidewalk before he could try again.

The thief struggled, twisting his shoulders and kicking at the ground. Cyrus kept him pinned without apparent effort. For someone so willing to start a fight, the man hadn't brought much strength to it.

Cyrus looked toward the bystanders, some of whom had finally approached close enough to see what had happened.

"Could somebody call the police, please?" he asked.

It was getting close to midnight by the time the police became involved.

The officers still needed to take statements and ask questions, even though Cyrus had stopped a theft and the missing money had been recovered. A knife had been involved, so they couldn't simply thank him and send him on his way. He answered what they asked and waited through the routine paperwork.

There was also the matter of his St. Alder uniform. He was on an overnight school trip, which meant an adult responsible for the students had to be contacted. The person who came to deal with that was Ms. Hart, his homeroom teacher.

Outside the police station, the grandmother and her granddaughter thanked Cyrus again before leaving.

"Thank you so much. We really don't know what we would've done," the grandmother said.

"I'm glad you got it back," Cyrus replied. "You don't have to keep thanking me."

He watched them go. Then he turned toward Ms. Hart, who stood waiting behind him with an expression that made him considerably less confident than he'd been while facing the knife.

He'd sneaked out of the hotel, after all.

Cyrus knew better than to pretend that part hadn't happened. He lowered his head before she could start.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hart. I know I messed up."

"And what exactly did you do wrong?" she asked.

"I left the hotel after the room check when I wasn't supposed to. I won't do it again."

His apology was sincere, and he wasn't foolish enough to follow it with excuses about being hungry. Ms. Hart studied him for a moment before letting out a weary sigh.

"I know boys your age want to have fun when they're away from school," she said. "But have you thought about what could've happened tonight? What if that man had been more dangerous, or you'd been a little less lucky?"

Cyrus kept his eyes lowered and listened.

"I know you're a good kid. I also need you to understand why we set these rules. I hope there really won't be a next time."

She paused, then delivered his punishment.

"Tomorrow morning, while the others are out, you're staying in your room. Use the time to think about what happened."

"Okay, Ms. Hart," Cyrus said, nodding.

He wasn't going to argue. The teachers had warned everyone that being absent during a room check could bring formal disciplinary consequences. Compared with that, missing the final half-day of activities was a pretty good outcome.