Van Bender and the Burning Emblems (The Van Bender Archives #1) by S. James Nelson Read Free Book Online

They would take it and ruin it, so I need to keep it safe until we can transform it.”
    Red flags waved in my mind. I wanted to reach out and take the box from him. Maybe he was the kind of person he warned me against—for that matter, the kind of person Mom warned me against.
    Could I trust him?
    It was probably a little late to ask that question.
    Up until that moment, I’d automatically trusted him because—I realized—as one of the most famous rock stars on the planet, he didn’t need my fame. He didn’t need my fortune.
    But it seemed he might need my fans’ emotions.
    “You’re going to teach me how to use brink, right?”
    “Sure thing.”
    He poured some of the purple brink into his hand and motioned for me to step back. I obeyed.
    I said, “What are you going to do with the brink once we’ve transformed it?”
    He looked at me with narrow eyes, as if evaluating my trustworthiness. My internal sirens blared. I wanted to snatch the box away and bang him over the head with it.
    He began to draw a large shape between us, starting with a horizontal line higher than his head. The brink tinkled. It smelled like cinnamon rolls.
    “Son,” he said, “not many people know about this power we have as musicians. And people out there who do know, who know they’re in charge, don’t know that the world should know. But I know the world should know.”
    “That’s a lot of knowing. Or not knowing.”
    “I know.”
    He widened his eyes and pursed his lips. The expression looked ridiculous beneath his spiky hair. He’d finished his shape, a rectangle roughly the size of a door.
    “We’ll use this emotion to show the world that there is such a thing as magic. Oh, plus we’ll overthrow evil with it.”
    That seemed reasonable, but I imagine Genghis Kahn had sounded reasonable to plenty of people.
    “I can keep the emotion safe,” I said. “I’ve got places I can hide it. You know. Under my bed or in my underwear drawer. Mom doesn’t dare look in there.”
    He shook his head and drew a line like a spike out from each corner of the rectangle, out away from me. He spoke as he worked.
    “Son, people will talk to you when I leave. They’ll tell you I’m a bad person. I was, once, but I’ve seen what the Solar Flare is like. I understand, now, that we have to bring him down. And since this is your brink, I may need your help. Since you have priority with it, and all.”
    “What do you mean, priority? Who—what—is the Solar Flare?”
    “He’s the leader of the Sunbeams.”
    “Sunbeams? Sounds dangerous.”
    He shook his head, eyes wide. “You have no idea. And the Solar Flare—I’ve come to understand what power he really has. What his plans are. And how to defeat him. No one else knows this.”
    “Then why don’t you tell anyone?”
    “They wouldn’t believe me. I’ve been bad in the past, Richie. Worked for the Solar Flare. But now I’ve changed, and no one understands that. I’ve seen the light, so to speak. I’m different than I used to be. Not to mention that they would take the emotions from you. You’re still too naïve not to fall for their lies. I need to keep the emotions for now. You must believe me—and not believe them.”
    “Because you’re giving me so many reasons to trust you?”
    “I’ll be in touch. This is your opportunity to be part of something big, to get in on the ground on the biggest thing since living in houses.”
    He scraped the remaining brink from his hand back into the vial, screwed the lid back on, and put the vial in his pocket. I wanted to take the box from him. Just snatch it away. But if I tried, he might use magic to turn me into something unpleasant. Like a country singer. Or—worse—a one-hit-wonder.
    From a pocket, he pulled out his lighter, and lit the top left spike, then in rapid succession lit the other three spikes in a clockwise direction. The flame turned purple as the brink caught fire, spread up the spikes, then around the door. Once the