The Choice

by Cindy Cipriano

  “Oh, there you are, Calum,” said Mr. Stotle. “You’ll have detention after school for being tardy and holding up your classmates.”

  “Yes, sir,” Calum said contritely.

  He turned to the rest of the students. “I’m going to ask that you all close your minds, and I hope you’ve been practicing. At the beginning of class, I approached one of you to act as a tester of sorts. He or she has agreed to gather stray thoughts. As an extra incentive to you, we’ll be writing these thoughts on the blackboard.”

  Calum’s mind flashed to Kira holding the vial before him. When he’d kissed the vial, he’d held her gaze and stared into her bright green eyes. Calum slowly closed the door to his mind. He’d be keeping that thought to himself.

  By the end of class, there were fifteen semi-embarrassing comments on Mr. Stotle’s board. Thankfully, none of them belonged to Calum or Hagen. There was one slightly off-color comment about Calum, though. He looked at Cian, who grinned back. Calum shook his head.

  “That’s not too bad,” said Mr. Stotle. “We’ll be repeating this exercise over the next few days. By the end of the week I expect the board to be completely free of your loose thoughts.”

  The class groaned in unison. Calum joined in with them. It was bad enough others could read his thoughts when he wasn’t careful, but to advertise them in front of the whole class?

  Mr. Stotle picked up a fat yellow stick of chalk and wrote, Advertising thoughts in front of the whole class. “I wouldn’t call it an advertisement, per se, but I think it does get the point across.”

  Calum shifted low in his seat, his face burning.

  “Everyone may go,” said Mr. Stotle, striking his hands together to knock off the chalk dust. “Everyone except for Mr. Ranson, that is.” He walked toward Calum’s desk and handed him the blackboard eraser.

  Hagen gave Calum a sympathetic smile before following their classmates out of the room. Calum approached the board, ready to wipe it clean, but not before closing the door to his mind entirely.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brown Mountain Lights and Gypsies

  Calum’s first day back in Emerald Lake was a busy one. Kenzie’s flu treatments had worked so well, word had gotten out. Preorders for her Valentine’s herbs were coming in tidal waves at Siopa Leabhar. Kenzie had spent the entire time Calum was away packaging gift boxes and readying them for shipment. She’d started at six that morning, stopping only to take care of the lunch crowd. With the shop being so busy, there were few times she was able to use her talents to get the work done. Calum met her at Siopa that afternoon and joined in to help her process the orders. They worked silently as light from the front windows changed from gold to gray.

  “Oh my gosh,” said Kenzie. “It’s five-thirty. I totally forgot I have an order to collect from The Four Corners. Rebeccah’s just gotten in a new harvest from Avalon.” Kenzie looked frazzled, staring at the huge hourglass behind the checkout desk. “She’ll be closing soon, and you’re back to Longwood day after tomorrow. I really wanted to work a couple more hours tonight before supper.” Her fists were full of the last sprigs of herbs. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, moving stray hairs from her face.

  “No problem, Kenzie,” said Calum. He stood and stretched, sore from sitting at the café countertop where he’d carefully packed box after box of the Valentine’s special. “I’ll go pick it up.”

  “Oh, thank you,” said Kenzie, sighing loudly. She put the herbs back into their containers and tossed him her Bart. “Did I ever tell you how much of a help you are?”

  “All the time,” said Calum. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. This was something he wouldn’t normally do, but she looked like she needed one. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Kenzie gave him a tired smile and placed her head in her hands. “Think I’ll just sit here and rest my eyes a few minutes.” Calum turned the open sign to closed before heading out of Siopa Leabhar. The downtown shops closed at five, so the streets were quiet as he walked through town to the polder. He’d be glad when the days started getting longer. He yawned and tried to shake the tired from his head.

  This is more than being tired. My mind feels like it’s mush. Calum searched the clear night sky for the moon. That’s when he realized why he felt so out of sorts. Tonight was a new moon and the lack of moonlight made Sidhe feel somehow separated from the natural world.

  But I have my own light. Calum fingered the vial around his neck as he made his way through the woods and into the polder.

  My own light in the darkness. Light in the darkness.

  Calum stopped walking. He stared at the vial filled with the silvery light. It looked especially bright in the darkness of evening. So many thoughts churned in Calum’s head, all fighting for his attention.

  Shadows of light in the darkness.

  He slowly twisted the cap of the vial.

  “Keep promises much?” asked Kira. She stepped out of the shadows and moved toward Calum.

  “Lurk about in the dark much?” he replied.

  “You promised not to do anything with that unless I was with you,” she said in a chastising tone.

  “And you trusted me so much you had to bind us to the bottle,” said Calum.

  “True.” Kira moved closer, now just a few inches separating them.

  Her floral scent washed over Calum, muddling his brain. Gypsy trick. He shook his head and stepped back. Calum held the bottle in front of him, his right hand sliding the top so just a sliver of light spilled out into the night.

  “Stop,” said Kira. “I’ll play fair.”

  Calum’s mind cleared as her scent faded. He recapped the bottle. “If this is so important to you, why did you trade it away?”

  “Because that blue sand is rare. I thought I’d have time to replace a Brown Mountain light, but I couldn’t risk losing the sand.”

  She stepped closer and Calum twisted the cap in a silent warning.

  “Wait,” said Kira, holding up her hand.

  “Then tell me everything.”

  “Okay,” said Kira. “Just don’t open it again.”

  Calum tucked the vial inside his shirt.

  “There’ve been stories floating around about you for years,” said Kira.

  “What kind of stories?”

  “About you and your cousin, Finley. That he was here one second and gone the next. That he was impossible to find. I traveled to South Carolina to meet you. I wanted to see if you knew anything about where Finley might be.”

  “Why would you care?” asked Calum. “Did you know him?”

  “No,” said Kira. “But there was a gypsy who disappeared just like Finley had done. It was a long time ago. Way before I was born. It’s actually a legend in our world.”

  “You’re losing me here. Why does all of this matter?”

  “Because there’s also a prophecy. The return of the lost one signals a change in the ruler of our people.”

  “And that’s important?” asked Calum.

  “Very,” said Kira. “Some of us don’t like having to trade with certain clans, but we don’t have a choice.”

  “So you thought if I did the impossible with Finley, I might be able to help you find this gypsy. The ‘lost one’?”

  “Not at first,” said Kira. “When we met in South Carolina, it was clear you had no idea where Finley was. Then you surprised me by finding him, in Devil’s Peak of all places.”

  “Why of all places?” asked Calum.

  “Because my family has been trading with them for years,” said Kira. “They must have kept their Additions out of sight on trading day.” She stopped talking, seemingly distracted by some memory. “Anyway, when you came back without Finley, I started thinking you were a dead end.”

  “Okay, I was a dead end. So why are you back now?”

  “Because there’s a rumor that Finley is no longer a grasswalker. And that’s what I think happened to our gypsy. I think he’s somehow walking parallel to this world.
Not a grasswalker, but still alive. He’s somewhere he doesn’t belong.”

  “Light in the darkness,” said Calum.

  “Yeah. Pretty much.” Kira studied Calum’s face. “I don’t know you very well. But what I do know is you will never give up looking for Finley. Is it wrong that I want to be there when you find him?”

  Calum looked at her hard. “Please don’t pretend you care about him.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. But I’m hoping our gypsy and Finley are somehow together. I should have been honest with you.”

  “You’re still not being honest,” said Calum. “What’s the purpose of the Brown Mountain light?”

  “It’s a temporary threshold. I thought if you ever figured out where Finley is, you might be able to use it.”

  “And you sealed us together so you’d be there too. What about the blue sand?”

  “Come on, you’ve got to know that one,” she said exasperated. “Have you ever come across blue sand? I mean, in nature? Isn’t that your thing, the way of the Sidhe? Aren’t you all supposed to be so very connected to the natural world?”

  Calum felt his temper rise. “We are connected to the natural world,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Then you know as well as I do that blue sand does not come from this world,” said Kira.

  Calum stared at her for a long moment, trying to decide if he should trust her. Rebeccah trusts her, he reasoned.

  “Give me a chance,” said Kira.

  Calum hesitated briefly. “I don’t take chances where my family is concerned. But if you want to work together I’m good with that.”

  “Then let’s get to it,” said Kira. “Where did you get the blue sand?”

  Calum told her about how he and Hagen had played between the worlds.

  “And Hagen didn’t know anything about the sand?”

  “No,” said Calum. “He asked me where it came from.”

  Kira smiled. “Don’t you see? It came from another world.”

  “But there is only one other,” said Calum. “The Underworld. And I don’t think that’s very easily accessible.”

  “There must be a gateway of sorts,” said Kira.

  “There’s the Void,” said Calum. He wondered if it were reasonable. No one knew much about the Void. Only one Sidhe had ever been sent there, and to Calum’s knowledge that Sidhe never came back.

  “Do you think you can go between the worlds again?” asked Kira.

  “Let’s see.” He walked to the threshold and thrust his hand through. He waited a few moments before withdrawing his hand. “There’s nothing there.”

  “It has to be,” said Kira. “Try again.”

  Calum shrugged, but stuck his hand through again. “I don’t feel anything. Last time there was a strange liquid and then the blue sand. Hey,” he exclaimed, pulling his hand back. It was covered in a dusting of the blue sand, some of it caking onto his travelon ring.

  Kira immediately transferred the sand into one of her unending supply of vials.

  “Why did you do that?” asked Calum.

  “Because if it doesn’t work we can try again another time. See if you can get some more.”

  Calum put his hand through for a third time, but this time his hand wasn’t covered in sand or liquid. This time a thin leather strap dangled between his fingers. At the end of the strap was a Tusatha token.

  “That’s Finley’s clan,” Calum said excitedly. He slipped the token around his neck and thrust his hand back through the threshold. Nothing happened. It was as if the thin fabric of the Void had been sealed and no longer opened for him. Calum’s heart raced as he tried repeatedly to get back through to the Void.

  Calm down. Think.

  “We need another way in,” said Calum. He slowly opened the vial holding the Brown Mountain light.

  “Wait,” said Kira. She rushed to him and emptied the blue sand on the black forest floor. “We don’t need a door into just anywhere. We need a door into the Void.” She nodded at the ball of light. “Go ahead.”

  Calum opened the vial and poured the light over the blue sand. A milky white wall rose from the line of sand, seeming to snap into place before him.

  “I’m just going to put my head through to see where it goes,” said Calum. He felt Kira take his hand and was comforted by the gesture. He closed his eyes as he poked his head through the wall. The smell of death slammed into his nose. Calum’s eyes flew open and he was disoriented by what he saw. The ground was nothing but blue sand. He looked around and saw a blood-red forest. The tips of the trees shook like angry hands clawing a heavy green sky.

  “I think this is the place,” he shouted, unsure Kira would be able to hear him.

  “Calum!” came the reply. Only it wasn’t Kira’s voice.

  “Finley?” shouted Calum. “Are you in here?”

  “I’m here,” said Finley.

  Calum turned to his right, and watched as Finley sprinted up the blue beach away from massive black boulders. He was followed closely by another boy who seemed to be a little younger. Finley came to a stop a few inches away.

  Calum stretched out his right hand, now the top half of his body inside the Void. He felt Kira tugging hard on his other hand, trying to keep him from toppling in completely.

  “Don’t,” said Finley. “You’ll get stuck here.”

  “Come on, take my hand,” said Calum. His golden travelon contrasted against a background of blue sand. His eyes searched Finley’s face frantically. There was something wrong. Something was off.

  “You know you can only take one through with that,” Finley said in a dead tone.

  “I only need to take one,” said Calum. His eyes met the other boy’s and he felt suddenly ashamed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll come right back for you.”

  “You can’t,” said Finley. “The Void will have seen this weak spot. It will correct itself so the attempt can’t be made again.” He paced quickly in front of Calum, as if trying to work out a solution.

  Calum saw the Hobayeth token hanging from the boy’s neck. Even if Finley were a stranger to Calum, he should be the one to be saved. Not a boy who was wearing a token that almost guaranteed his spot at the very least in the Void, and more likely in the Underworld.

  “It’s not what you think, Calum,” said Finley. All the life seemed to have left his eyes. “Sun doesn’t belong here.”

  Sun? Calum searched the sky. There was no sun. What was Finley talking about?

  “This boy is Sun,” said Finley. “And he doesn’t belong here.”

  Calum felt Kira pulling more urgently, now grasping his forearm. “I don’t have much time. You’ve got to come now, Finley.”

  “Sun has been here far too many years,” said Finley. “For too many lifetimes. Try to understand.” A tortured expression crossed Finley’s face, darkening his eyes.

  “No,” said Calum, shaking his head slowly. “You have to come,” he demanded.

  “How can I leave him here?” Finley gestured to the boy.

  “What do you say about all this, Sun?” Calum asked angrily.

  “I say you should take Finley,” said Sun. “I’ve been here long enough to be used to it.” He turned to Finley. “You’re just getting adjusted. This place takes a toll on you. It takes and takes, until it finally beats you. You’re pretty tough, tougher than I was, but you’re in for a long, hard fight, and in the end you’ll still lose.” He turned back to Calum. “I say you should take Finley.”

  “You heard him,” said Calum. He stretched further into the opening and tried to grab Finley’s collar. “Argg!” Calum felt a searing hot pain wherever his body touched the threshold. “Let’s go, before I run out of time.”

  Finley stepped back.

  “Come on, Finley,” yelled Calum. “You can’t save them all.”

  “But I can save this one,” said Finley. “He doesn’t belong here.”

  “Neither do you,” said Calum. He stretched as far as he dared, the edges of the threshold
now cutting into his skin like sharp glass. With one last effort he reached out, grasping the air for Finley, his shirt, even his hair. His fingers brushed against fabric and Calum closed on the shirt like a vice. “Now, Kira,” he screamed, hoping she would hear him.

  Calum felt himself being pulled backwards, the threshold raking at his skin, leaving claw marks that cut deep streaks. He felt blood oozing out of his new wounds. “Pull, Kira,” he yelled, not relaxing his grip on Finley. The seconds dragged by like days, as a roaring noise filled Calum’s ears. When he finally came through he fell onto the forest floor, with Finley landing on top of him. They lay like that a few minutes, gasping for air.

  “You’re bleeding,” said Kira. She pushed between them and pulled Calum’s jacket and shirt off, exposing dozens of deep cuts. Kira worked quickly, dabbing a thick yellow paste on each wound.

  “Finley?” asked Calum, trying to sit up. “Is he okay?”

  “Be still,” Kira ordered in a shaky voice. “You’re going to bleed to death if you don’t settle down.”

  Calum tried to hold out long enough to put his eyes on Finley, to be sure he wasn’t injured or bleeding as badly. Many things moved quickly through his mind, one of them the black coffin of his nightmare. He stared into the moonless night and tried to scream, but he couldn’t suck in air. Gasping and panic stricken, Calum’s world went black.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Strength, Nobility, and Clarity of Purpose

  The first thing Calum noticed was the burning pain that raced in streaks from the middle of the body all the way to his chest. Each breath was excruciating, as just the movement of his lungs caused his skin to stretch. He stayed awake for less than a minute before passing out again.

  The next time he awoke, Calum found he could breathe much easier. There was no pain, but his chest was definitely tender. His right hand found the bandage that wound around his torso. He touched it gingerly and realized it would be a long time before he healed completely. Calum’s fuzzy brain cleared and he was relieved to find he was in his bedroom.