Pyxis: The Discovery (Pyxis Series)

by K. C. Neal

  Determined not to dissolve into a sniveling mess, I bit my lip and composed myself, then asked, “Do you think it will be too lonely here without her?”

  “I am sure it will feel a bit lonely, especially at first.” She pulled a linen hanky from her sleeve to dab at her eyes. “But I think I’ll have plenty to keep me busy.”

  I twisted my fingers together in my lap under the table. I suspected the things that would keep her busy had something to do with me, Mason, Ang, and the nightmares.

  “Maybe I should move in here with you for a while?” I said, brightening. “I could help you cook and do housework, and you wouldn’t be alone so much. We’d have plenty of time to talk and … whatever.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, my dear,” she said, and then her face took on a shrewd expression. “And yes, it would give us lots of time to get you up to speed. I’ll speak to your parents about it. Do you think there’s any chance Mason’s parents would let him stay here as well?”

  “You want Mason to move in?” I asked, frowning a little.

  “Well, it would make things much easier for you. And we’ve more than enough space here,” she said. How would living with Mason make things easier for me? I hoped for more of an explanation, but she just sipped her tea.

  “Um, his parents could probably be persuaded. They don’t exactly keep tabs on him. He finished sophomore year while he was in Africa, so he’s basically free until next fall. Maybe he could tell them that you’d like to have somebody available to help you while I’m at school and work?”

  She harrumphed a little. “Makes me sound like an invalid who needs a babysitter. But it’s not a bad idea, I suppose.”

  “We only have a few weeks of school left,” I said. “Then Mason could go back home.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But I think by then you’ll want him to stay.”

  I began to feel a little irritated. Aunt Dorothy seemed a little too eager to force us together. I hoped it wasn’t some attempt on her part to play matchmaker.

  The doorbell rang, and I jumped up to answer it. Mason hesitated on the threshold when I opened the door. A lot had happened between us in the last twenty-four hours, but I was determined to suppress any awkwardness. I smiled broadly and swung the door open.

  “Hey, come on in,” I grabbed his arm and pulled him through the doorway. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  I led him into the kitchen, and Aunt Dorothy rose from the table to greet him. She’d known Mason as long as I had; he was no stranger to this house. She smiled and laughed a little as she embraced him.

  “You’ve no idea how happy I am to see you, my boy,” she said, and patted his cheek.

  “It’s really good to see you, too, Aunt Dorothy,” he responded with genuine fondness. “Welcome home.”

  A minute pang of jealousy prickled through me. I knew it was stupid, but she seemed almost happier to see him than she’d been to see me. And she had been so big on the idea of getting him to move into the house. I felt a sudden longing for my grandmother.

  “You want anything?” I asked Mason. “I guess I can’t offer much other than water or tea.” I shrugged apologetically.

  “Water would be great.” He sat across from Aunt Dorothy in the chair next to mine.

  I felt all aflutter with anticipation. Now that he was here, she could start explaining all of the craziness of the past few weeks, and how she’d lost her mind in the first place. I set a glass of water in front of Mason and sat down.

  “Corinne, dear, why don’t you start by telling me what you know about the pyxis?” Aunt Dorothy asked. I tried to hide my disappointment. She wasn’t going to tell me anything until I answered her questions.

  I took a deep breath and started at the beginning. I explained how I had found the box, what happened with the bake sale, the experiments Ang and I did, and my dreams.

  “If the white fluid made you come back to your senses, does that mean somebody else gave you something that made you … lose your mind?” I asked.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes, I believe that’s what happened,” she answered. “But before we get into that, why don’t you tell me more about the dreams?”

  Trying to remember every detail, I described the nightmares I’d had about the black fog.

  “What do our dreams mean?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse from talking nonstop.

  “I believe they are a warning,” Aunt Dorothy said.

  “But we smelled the fog that one time at the cove,” I said. “It seems like they’re more than just symbolic or whatever.”

  “You may be right in part, my dear.” She gazed into the bottom of her tea mug as if it held more than just a spent tea bag. “But the fog itself is not what you should fear, unfortunately.”

  “It’s not?” Dread crept through me like fingers of mist over the lake. “Then what should we fear?”

  She gave me a wry look. “That’s the trick. We probably won’t have much advance warning as to what we’ll be dealing with.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Well, nothing to be done about that now, I’m afraid.” She raised her gaze and peered at me in a way that said she didn’t want to continue this line of discussion, and then she turned to Mason. “What about your dreams?”

  He recounted his versions of the nightmares.

  “I could tell when she was upset,” he said, his voice so low that, for a second, I thought I’d misheard. “I seem to know what she’s feeling. Not every minute of the day. But it’s especially strong when she feels scared or threatened.”

  Wide-eyed, I twisted in my chair to face him. He kept his gaze on Aunt Dorothy, but he knew I was staring at him. A faint blush spread over his cheeks, and I wondered just how many of my emotions he could feel.

  “You’re … he’s, like, inside my head?” I turned to Aunt Dorothy and tried to keep my voice calm.

  “That’s one way to describe it, I suppose,” she said. She was entirely too nonchalant about the whole thing, and once again, I felt the prickle of irritation.

  “Why? That’s just…” I sputtered a little, searching for the correct phrase to express my outrage. “That’s an invasion of my privacy! Not to mention completely bizarre.”

  “You should be glad that he has such a connection with you,” she admonished, and her blue-gray eyes flashed like ice on the lake in the dead of winter. Her voice sharpened to a razor edge. “In all likelihood, that connection will save your life.”

  I wanted to scream. How could I possibly know that Mason invading my brain should make me glad? My heart raced with pent-up frustration. Determined not to give in to the outburst swelling in my chest, I clenched my jaw and stared down at the table.

  It occurred to me that Mason seemed to be accepting all of this a little easier than I was. Maybe it was because of this so-called connection with my emotional state. I wondered if there was anything else he’d failed to mention.

  “Did you show her the letter?” Mason asked, touching his hand to my forearm. I flicked him a grateful glance for breaking the tension. I pulled my grandmother’s letter out of the side pocket of my bag. Mason continued, “We talked to your neighbor, Mr. Sykes. He couldn’t tell us much, though.”

  Aunt Dorothy reached for her reading glasses, slid them on, and peered down at the letter. “Harold, of course,” she said absently. “I’ll be sure to speak with him soon.”

  As she read, she frowned and harrumphed, probably at the part where Grandma called her a scatterbrain. I bit the inside of my cheek to smother a smile.

  She finished reading and folded her hands on top of the letter. She scrutinized us over the top of her reading glasses. “Have you determined who the other guardian is?”

  Mason and I glanced at each other.

  “Um … we don’t really know what that means. So, no, I guess,” I said.

  “Of course you don’t, I apologize,” she said, and her hand fluttered to her forehead. She looked tired. I wondered if w
e should let her rest, but she seemed determined to continue. She took off her glasses, folded her hands again, and was silent a moment. I leaned forward a little, sensing that she was about to reveal something important. Finally.

  “There is a place here in Tapestry, a special spot that holds a certain … power, if you will. We call it the convergence. It’s the source of the materials for the pyxis solutions, among other things. There are certain people in this world who would like nothing more than to have control of the convergence. For three generations, it has been the duty of certain individuals to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  “When I was young, I became one of those individuals. Doris was another. And Harold, Mr. Sykes, was another. So was our friend Evelyn, who passed away a year ago. There are always four: one Pyxis, one Shield, and two Guardians. Doris was the Pyxis, and Harold was the Shield. Evelyn and I were the two Guardians. Together, we formed the pyramidal union. The four individuals are appropriated certain skills to help them in their duties, which we will discuss later.”

  I thought of the list I found in the lid of the pyxis and opened my mouth to tell Aunt Dorothy about it, but then pressed my lips together. I wanted to let her keep talking.

  “Normally, there is a new pyramidal union formed each generation, but that didn’t happen after my generation. The Pyxis is passed down the maternal line, and because neither I nor Doris had any daughters, there was no Pyxis in that generation.” She looked at me, and there was unexpected sympathy in her eyes. “We knew that you would be the next pyxis, dear, but we detected no threat and didn’t want to force the role upon you when you were too young. We waited, and clearly, we waited too long. I regret that it’s happened this way, but we’ll have to make the best of it.”

  She paused to sip some tea, and I took the opportunity to jump in. “What about Harriet Jensen? Was she supposed to be the Pyxis after Grandma Doris?”

  Aunt Dorothy’s mouth formed a little O of surprise. “How do you know this?”

  I told her about the list and my run-ins with Harriet.

  “Well, this is a twist indeed. We did not expect Harriet to be a problem.”

  “So why is she bothering me now?” I asked.

  “I can’t say for certain, but we will find out. And as Harold advised, you’d best avoid her.”

  Yeah, duh. Like I wanted to have anything to do with her.

  Mason cleared his throat. “Aunt Dorothy, is the convergence a spot near the lake? A meadow near the water?”

  She looked surprised and pleased. “Why yes, that’s right. I don’t know how you could have known that, dear, but I suppose it’s not my place to question it. I believe it’s where you young people like to gather? You call it the cove?”

  That was the magical, mystical convergence? Where kids went to get drunk and have sex? I laughed, and Aunt Dorothy regarded me with a question in her eyes.

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just, that’s where everyone from school goes to party.”

  “Yes, well, it seems to draw people to it, even those who aren’t part of the pyramidal union.” I was relieved that Aunt Dorothy seemed amused because I had the sense that I’d said something close to blasphemy. Even if it was the truth.

  My phone shimmied sideways on the table. I picked it up and read a text from Mom.

  I’m stopping by with some food from the café. You must be starved!

  I relayed the message to Mason and Aunt Dorothy, and my stomach promptly growled. I hadn’t eaten since the granola bar on the way to Danton, and I noticed the daylight now faded into dusk.

  Mom arrived with the food a minute later, ending any further conversation about the pyxis and the magical convergence and whatnot. If she was surprised to see Mason there, she didn’t show it. She stayed and ate with us, and by the time we finished, it was dark.

  “I’m sure Aunt Dorothy appreciates the company, but we should let her rest now. She’s been through a lot,” Mom said.

  I started to protest, but Aunt Dorothy gave a small shake of her head that Mom didn’t see. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done,” she said. “Erin is right. I should get myself to bed. Corinne, would you help me up to my room?”

  Mom and Mason said they would clear away the food and load the dishes into the dishwasher, so I followed Aunt Dorothy upstairs. She went slowly, pausing at each step. I knew it would annoy her if I actually took her arm, so I just stuck close by her side in case she stumbled.

  “I know we still have much to discuss,” she said once we reached her bedroom. She lowered herself to the bed, and I realized her face was drawn with exhaustion. “You and Mason should return in the morning, and we can continue then. I’ll be fine, dear. Just lock the door on the way out.”

  I kissed her cheek and left her alone. Mom offered to take Mason home, but I told her we wanted to walk instead. She gave me an annoying, knowing look, and I realized I could add her to the growing list of people who thought there was something going on between Mason and me. Great. She left, and Mason and I silently straightened the table and started the dishwasher.

  We stepped out into the darkness, and I used the spare key to bolt the door behind us. I wasn’t entirely comfortable leaving Aunt Dorothy alone. She’d just barely returned to us, and what if something happened to her? But she seemed okay about staying in the house by herself.

  I took in a deep lungful of cool, night air and tilted my head back to look for stars. Hazy clouds obscured all but a handful of the brightest ones. As we entered the deeper darkness beyond Aunt Doris’s neighborhood, Mason reached for my hand. His palm was very warm, and I felt a tiny buzz of electricity pass from his hand to mine. A giddy rush of energy flooded through me.

  “I know we’re not … you know,” he said, his voice low.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, and I gripped his hand firmly in mine. Mason and I weren’t officially together in the boyfriend-girlfriend sense, but I couldn’t deny my growing need to be near him.

  || 31 ||

  THE NEXT MORNING, MASON came to my house around nine o’clock. I’d already been up for two hours so I could buy Aunt Dorothy’s groceries and some other supplies before we went to her house. It was awfully early for me to be up and ready on a Sunday, but we were eager to get back to Aunt Dorothy’s. I handed him a small bottle of orange juice and a paper napkin with a bagel-and-cream-cheese sandwich wrapped in it.

  I longed for Ang’s levelheaded and cheerful presence, but she was at church.

  “Bye, I’ll be back later this afternoon!” I hollered down the hall to where my mom was doing laundry.

  She poked her head out, and when she saw Mason, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Make sure she drives safely, Mason.”

  I rolled my eyes and led him to the garage. Like anything would happen in the half mile of the twenty-five mile-per-hour zone between here and Aunt Dorothy’s.

  “How’d you sleep last night?” I asked, backing out of the driveway.

  “Like a baby,” he said around a mouthful of bagel. “I assume that means you did, too.”

  “Yep. Nice for a change. Peaceful nights seem kind of few and far between, these days,” I said. “So you think you’ll get your driver’s permit soon?”

  “I’d like to, but that means getting one of my parents to take me to Danton. You know how that goes.”

  I nodded. Mason was seriously more mature than his own parents. I thought they were cool and fun when I was younger, but the older I got, the more pathetic they seemed. It was no wonder he’d spent so much time hanging out at our house over the years. My parents might be annoying about some things, but at least they were … parents.

  I pulled into Aunt Doris’s driveway, put the Subaru in park, and shut off the engine. I ran up and rang the bell, and Mason and I hauled bags of food, paper products, and other basic supplies into the house. Aunt Dorothy hugged us each in turn as we set bags on the kitchen counter.

  “How was your first night back in the house?” I asked.

 
She looked less exhausted than the previous night, but still entirely too frail for my liking. At least she was dressed in regular clothes instead of the housecoat she wore at the retirement home, and her hair was combed back into her signature braid down her back.

  “It’s wonderful to be back,” she said. “And thank you for doing my shopping for me, though I’m sure I could have done it myself.”

  I watched her shuffle over to the table to get a check to reimburse me for the purchases, and I wasn’t sure I agreed with her.

  Mason and Aunt Dorothy put away the food and supplies while I started making a spinach, cheese, and mushroom quiche. Normally I’d make a pie crust from scratch, but I wanted to get back to our conversation from last night, so I’d bought a frozen, ready-made crust. As I pulled the crust from the bag, I realized that I’d never cooked in this kitchen without my grandmother. I shook my head to silence the thought, and I resumed pulling ingredients from the bags.

  While I continued preparing the quiche, Aunt Doris and Mason resumed their places from yesterday at the kitchen table.

  “Your friend Angeline,” Aunt Dorothy started. I glanced over my shoulder at her. “She knows she is part of this?”

  “Yeah, she knows about the pyxis, and she’s seen the list,” I said. “She’s at church, so I’ll have to fill her in later.”

  “Until we know who the other Guardian is, she won’t be able to fulfill her role,” Aunt Dorothy said.

  “Why is that?” Mason asked.

  “The two Guardians must become linked to each other. Ah…” she paused and rubbed her temples, seeming to consider how best to explain. “There is a brief rite they must go through together, which gives them a powerful psychological bond. It’s difficult to imagine if you haven’t experienced it, but, in essence, it gives the two Guardians a certain awareness of each other. It’s a bit like what you’re feeling with my grand-niece, Mason, the way you know when she’s distressed. It also gives them the ability to work cooperatively to protect the convergence.”