“Knock it off,” Phoebe says. “Both of you. We have more important issues than Ezra right now.” She ignores Danny’s chuckle and sits down beside me. “We need you to tell us what happened.”
I glance at the open door. If Dr. Henigan or one of the nurses overhears my story, I’ll never get out of here.
Seeing my hesitation, Danny closes the door.
“Thanks.” In a rush, the whole story comes out, from Ian’s promise not to leave, me following them through the portal, and our escape from the pirates. My voice cracks when I get to the part where Ian rips out the crystal on our way out.
After I finish, Phoebe and Danny share a long look.
“It’s the truth, I swear.”
“I know,” Phoebe says. “Things are escalating much faster now. It’s too dangerous. I don’t know if Ian can control it.”
Danny throws his hands up in the air. “Oh yes, poor Ian. Just ignore the fact that so far this year we’ve had pterodactyls, merrows, some sort of big cat, and who knows what else, but, please, focus on the poor, innocent boy who won’t let us do anything about it.”
“That’s what the fences are for.” Even to me, her voice sounds weak, unsure.
He scowls at her. “Yeah, how’s that working out so far? The only way to keep this town safe is to shut the portal down.”
“You’re right.” She rubs her temple. “I know that would be best, but there has to be some other way.”
Her words reassure me, and I feel myself relax. Phoebe won’t let anything happen to the portal, not if it would hurt Ian.
“There isn’t,” Danny says, his voice grim. “I’m telling you, in order to keep everyone safe, we have to shut down the portal.”
Chapter 18
Two days later. . .
When I wake up, the sun is shining, and birds are chirping outside my window. I glance at the red digital clock: 9:22 a.m.
As I push myself upright, the light catches on the glaring orange cast stretching from my wrist to my elbow. It’s a horrible color and clashes terribly with my hair, but it’s better than hot pink. Brett and Molly have already decorated almost all the available space with smiley faces, flowers, hearts, and a dinosaur or two. I press my fingers on the designs, trying to hold on to their innocent excitement. Then I carefully wrap it in a plastic bag and tie the ends so it doesn’t get wet when I take a shower.
After cleaning up and getting dressed, I make my way downstairs. Standing at the stove, Mom flips a pancake over and then sprinkles cheese in the middle. After it melts, she folds over both sides and plops the result on a plate.
“That smells awesome.” I grab the plate and slide into my seat. My stomach growls in agreement.
She laughs, and there’s a lightness to her voice that belies the stress of the last few days. “I’m glad you still like my cheesy pancakes. I haven’t made them in such a long time.” Her voice trails off, loss and pain evident in her tone.
“I’m sure they’ll be awesome,” I say, slathering butter on top. She hands me another after I finish one, and I polish that off, too.
“Good. Are you sure you’re going to be all right while I’m at work today? Grandma picked up Brett and Molly, so you don’t have to worry about them pestering you too much.”
I nod, relieved. “I’ll be fine.” It’s not that I don’t love the little boogers, but Ian and Nico haunt me. I haven’t heard anything from them since we returned through the portal, and I have to find out what’s going on.
She eyes me suspiciously. “Are you going to stay out of trouble?”
“Me?” I place my good hand dramatically on my chest. “Of course.”
She chuckles. “Uh huh, sure.” She presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “Please stay home. Don’t go out there looking for that boy.”
I tilt my head in confusion. “Ezra?” That has to be who she’s talking about. She doesn’t know anything about Ian or Nico.
She nods. “Phoebe said there was a sighting downstate, so there’s no reason for you to go traipsing all over the woods with a broken arm and nearly get yourself killed again.”
Yeah, right. There’s no way Ezra would have left without finding his brother.
Shame warms my cheeks. My mother must have been just as worried, if not more so. “I’m sorry, Mom.” A promise never to do it again hovers on my lips, but I can’t give the words life. I would do it all again if it meant saving Ian and Nico’s lives.
“I’ll be back about five thirty or six, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I yawn partially for effect, but also because weariness niggles at the back of my consciousness. “After I finish eating, I’m probably going to lie down for a bit.”
Which is exactly what I do.
By the time I wake up from my nap, I realize it’s too late for me to hike to the lighthouse. I scowl at the afternoon sun. There’s no way I can get there before Mom gets back from work.
Another thought nibbles at the corner of my consciousness. I can’t make it to the lighthouse, but I do have time to go to the farmhouse where Ezra lives. He’s probably not there. But what if he is? Maybe I can find some answers there. I know he knows more than he told me, and I feel so useless just sitting here. I have to do something, especially since I don’t think Ezra really knows what’s going on.
He’s messing with something bigger. Something he doesn’t understand, and something I barely grasp. Ezra has no idea what he’s dealing with, but if I can find him and help him, then maybe he’ll tell me what he knows about my father.
By the time I hike to the farmhouse, the afternoon sun’s casting longer and darker shadows between the trees. I skirt the forest and breathe a sigh of relief when his ramshackle home breaks into view. Thank God I didn’t get lost. My mom would probably put a tracking device on me if I had.
I call out Ezra’s name, but no one answers. I don’t know why this disappoints me, but for some reason I half expect him to open the door and apologize for what he had done.
A chill trails its fingers up my spine as I wander around the side of the house. I glance in the windows, but I don’t see anyone moving inside. Someone’s watching me.
My eyes scan the rest of the front of the house, including the old, empty flower beds that surround it. Only a few scraggly weeds dot the earth, the rest is barren except for the footprints.
My heart leaps in my chest. Are these from Ezra? I set my foot next to the print. It’s much larger than mine, and the strides are so long—almost as if they were running—I have to stretch to match them.
When I get to the end of the flower bed, I stop, one foot hovering precariously in the air above the ground. The dirt below my sneaker has a print in it, but it’s not Ezra’s. It’s a paw print, and it’s huge.
***
I hurry home and collapse on the couch right before Mom pulls into the driveway.
“Did you have a good day?” She tosses her keys on the end table, and it’s all I can do to keep from snatching them up and heading out the door.
“Oh yeah.” I give her a fake yawn. “I took a nap and everything.”
She ruffles my hair. “How are you feeling?”
The faint ache is nothing new, but I wave the garish cast in the air. “Great. I can’t wait to get this thing off.”
She chuckles. “Brett and Molly are eating dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s, would you like to join them?”
I pat my stomach. “I actually just ate. I was thinking about going to the library, if that’s okay.”
She glances at the clock hanging over the kitchen sink. “What time do they close?”
“Eight.”
She shrugs. “Okay. Will you pick up your brother and sister when you’re done?”
“Sure.” I shuffle into my shoes and grab the keys off the end table.
“Thanks.” She flashes me a grateful smile. “See you in a little bit.”
I hurry out the door before she changes her mind.
I find the rocky driveway leading to the
lighthouse that’s nearly hidden by the undergrowth. I don’t have a remote like Phoebe used, but maybe Ian has a video surveillance system, where he can see who is approaching. It’s better than trying to hike through the woods alone, trying to find a hole in the fence with that deadly creature still at large.
I park outside the gate and walk up to it, looking for a camera of some sort. I don’t see one, but there’s something else wrong. It takes me a minute to pinpoint it, but when I realize what it is, I draw in a sharp breath. The gate and the fence are silent.
I toss a stick against the fence to make sure, but there’s no spark, no flash of light. The gate is off, and when I creep closer, I realize it’s not even closed all the way. I use a stick to nudge it open, just in case.
Dread rises, sure and swift, up my spine. Something bad must have happened. I drive the car through, ignoring the urge to go and get help from Phoebe or Danny. If worse comes to worst, I’ll club whatever it is with my cast.
When I get to the clearing around the lighthouse, I park the car and study my surroundings. There’s no movement, and Ian’s truck rests in the shade. He must be here, so why is the fence off?
I peek in the lighthouse’s front window and see a familiar figure wearing heavy gloves. Ian stands in front of what looks like a metal box mounted in the corner of the living room. He opens the round hatch in the front and checks the flames crackling within. When he turns around, the sheen of perspiration glistening on his face does little to erase the haggard emptiness in his eyes.
He rolls the end of a long metal pole in what looks like tiny nuggets or pebbles and then sticks it in the fiery box. When the metal pole glows red-hot, he turns it carefully. After a few seconds, he carries it over to a metal stand and sets it in place. Then he uses a pair of metal tongs to pick at the glowing bits, pulling the glass out in long, curving strings. He concentrates so hard that the tip of his tongue sticks out of his mouth.
After staring at the stick for a few seconds, Ian grabs a small metal torch and remelts that filament of glass and fixes it. I don’t realize until he’s finished that it looks like a long, flowing feather. Ian steps back and surveys his creation.
Once it cools sufficiently, he delicately picks the feather up from the stand, carries it over to a chest of some sort, and sets it inside. When he’s finished, he puts his hands on the base of his spine and cracks his back. Then he turns from side to side, as if working the kinks out.
I duck back under the window and sprint to the door, figuring this is the perfect time to knock.
“Austen. You’re okay.” His exhausted voice beckons me closer and warms me. I know Phoebe told me he and Nico were all right, but it feels good to see him.
“Yeah.” I smile up at him. “Thanks to you.”
He takes my elbow and guides me inside. “Please, have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He disappears into the kitchen and returns with his ever-present teacups and teapot.
I accept a steaming cup with my free hand. “Where’s Nico?”
Ian jerks his head toward the back of the lighthouse. “He’s gathering wood for the fire.”
“Why do you need a fire? It’s the middle of the summer.”
He gestures at the strange metal box. “It’s for my kiln. Creating glass sculptures is apparently the only thing I’m good at.”
I scowl, irritated. “You know that’s not true.” Ian’s so much more than that. He’s a survivor and a hero. He’s worked tirelessly to keep Misery Bay free of monsters and other dangers, even though all he wants is to leave.
A humorless chuckle escapes his lips. “It doesn’t matter, does it? All that was important was getting you home.” He gestures at my garish cast. “How do you feel?”
I ignore the warm embers kindling inside my stomach. “I’ve been better.” I show him all the drawings my siblings made. “My brother and sister had a field day drawing these.” I hesitate, trying to figure out how to thank him without sounding sappy. “I, well, thank you, Ian. I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for you,” I blurt. “Seriously. You saved my life.”
“I couldn’t let you die, now, could I? Besides, you saved me, too. I was merely returning the favor.”
Now the embers in my stomach move up to my chest. “So what are you going to do now?”
His eyes shutter and his face grows blank. “There’s nothing I can do.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out the crystal he had removed from the portal. “I had to remove this so the pirates couldn’t follow us. If I hadn’t . . .” He pockets the stone.
He doesn’t have to tell me what would happen if a roving band of ancient pirates got loose in our town. It would spell disaster for us all.
“I’m sorry.”
He gazes out the window toward a small flock of birds. “You have nothing to apologize for. If you hadn’t followed us, Nico and I might be dead. We will survive, but I’m worried there is worse to come.”
The laser focus in his eyes makes me shift in my seat. “What do you mean?”
He takes my hand in his, the compassion in his eyes almost my undoing. “Your father. He hasn’t come back yet, has he?”
“No. He escaped on the way to the psychiatric hospital.” Something sparks in my memory. “If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?” Ian opens his mouth to speak, but I plow forward without his response. “Do you know why my dad came here?” The question burst forth from my lips without my bidding. “I have to know.”
“No. I met him when he and his family came through the portal. They were running from something or someone, I didn’t ask, but I let them stay at the lighthouse until they could get on their feet.”
“And then what?” My mind tries to wrap around Ian’s words, but a part of me still can’t grasp that Dad came from another time period. He taught Cub Scouts, for heaven’s sake. He’s a realtor. People like him, normal people, don’t magically appear out of portals one day and become part of our society. It doesn’t work like that. Someone would notice.
“Dad, I’m gonna get an F if you don’t fill it all in!” Young me stomps her feet, frustrated tears burning her eyes.
“I’ll call your teacher, baby. It’ll be fine.” He tries to hug me, but I push him away.
“But all the other kids have theirs done. I’ll be the only girl who didn’t. Everyone will laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry, honey. But I don’t know. Your grandma and grandpa never told me where they came from.” He looks away when he says that, like Brett did when he lied to Mom about cleaning his room.
“But, Dad!”
“No buts. I’ll call your teacher in the morning and take care of it, okay?”
I give him my best glare. “No. Not okay.”
I shake my head to get rid of the memory. “When are you going to try again?”
He shakes his head decisively. “I’m not. I should never have tested the fates in the first place with Nico’s life at stake.”
“What do you mean?” I snap.
Nico rushes through the door with an armful of sticks, and I nearly jump out of my skin. He drops the branches and races up to me, an ecstatic grin breaking across his face. “Austen!” His high-pitched voice is breathy and excited.
I ruffle his hair. “Hey, buddy. How are you?”
Nico glances at Ian, who nods encouragingly. “I am happy,” he says, his English halting and his accent thick. “I miss you.”
I choke back the emotion and hug him again so Ian can’t see the tears glistening in my eyes. “I missed you, too.” My gaze finds Ian’s over Nico’s head. “What’s going to happen now?”
Ian shrugs but won’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know. The damage is done, though, I suppose. We’re not going back.” He pushes himself to his feet and takes his cup into the kitchen. I follow him.
“But that doesn’t make any sense. You’ve wanted to go home for so long.” I search my mind for the specific words he said to me. “Didn’t you say you wanted to go home more than you wanted to breathe?”<
br />
“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Ian’s back is ramrod straight as he rinses our cups. When he finishes, he strides to the front door and opens it. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I drag my feet as I follow him down to the cave. I’d rather have an appendectomy and get all my teeth pulled without anesthesia than go near the portal again, but I follow him, anyway.
When we reach the cave, he stops. “Danny was right. It’s too dangerous.”
“What are you talking about?” My question is forgotten, however, when I approach the cave.
“Oh my God. What did you do?” The crevice, the black foreboding opening to the cave, is gone, covered by industrial concrete blocks. I walk up to the rough wall and run my fingers over its surface. “Your home is in there.” Nausea rises within me. I can’t believe he did that. It was his home, what he’d searched for for so long. Gone.
He shrugs. “Yes, but so are many horrible creatures.” He looks out over the bay. “I can’t be selfish and let my desire to go home count more than the lives of thousands of people.”
“No,” I whisper. “You . . . You can’t do this.”
He sighs, and runs his fingers along the new cement barrier. “It’s already done.”
My knees wobble and it’s all I can do to keep from falling to the ground. This was Ian’s way home. The only way he had to get home, and now it’s gone and it’s all my fault. “You’ve got to fix this. You . . . you can take it down, and . . . and put everything back the way it was.”
“No.” He gestures to the cave. “Please try to understand. After what happened, I had to do this. The portal’s dangerous. I’ve looked the other way for too long, and it almost got you killed. I can’t let that happen again.”
“But what about you, and Nico?”
Sadness and regret fills Ian’s eyes. He crouches down, picks up a rock, and chucks it into the bay. We watch in silence as it skips once, twice, and a third time before disappearing below the surface. “We’ll stay here, I suppose. We don’t have many other options.”
“So that’s it then? The portal’s closed so you and Nico will just become hermits and live out here in the woods?”
When Darkness Falls Page 20