Set In Stone

by Balmanno, Beth

  “Immediately?” I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice.

  “Probably.”

  “But I don’t want you to go.”

  I didn’t. I wanted to know that he would be at school each morning, waiting for me with a smile on his face. That he would be there to share meals and conversations with, to visit museums with me and stroll along waterfronts, to hold my hand as we walked. I didn’t want him to leave me. I wanted him to stay with me forever.

  “I know.”

  He didn’t elaborate and I was left to wonder if he felt anything more for me than his commitment to protect me and keep me safe. If the stone was gone and he had to say goodbye, I doubted he would give me a second thought.

  “Why?” I asked again. “Can’t you tell me? Please?”

  The bell sounded and Noel stood. He ignored my question. “We should get to art.”

  I followed him, dragging my feet as we walked to class. I mulled over the choices as Noel had presented them to me. If I kept the stone, Leo would continue to pursue me. Noel eventually would, too. I couldn’t entertain that thought. Noel stalking me, haunting me like his brother did, weaving magical spells over me in an attempt to have me surrender the stone…the image twisted my stomach into knots. But the other option was just as vile. Getting rid of the stone was going to be hard enough. And when I did, I would lose Noel immediately. Forever. What kind of choice was that, I thought bitterly? It wasn’t a choice I was prepared to make. It wasn’t a choice I wanted to make.

  We were drawing teapots in art. A shiny copper kettle sat on each table along with a fresh stack of drawing paper. I grabbed a sheet and sat down.

  Noel and I sketched in silence. I peeked at his paper and tried to suppress my irritation as his hand flew over the sheet, the shape of the teapot appearing as if by magic. I erased the crooked spout I’d drawn and tried again with even worse results. Angrily, I turned my pencil over and viciously rubbed with the eraser, tearing my paper in the process.

  “Lighten up,” Noel said softly. “It’s just a drawing.”

  I ignored him and took another sheet from the stack. I concentrated harder this time, not on the drawing but on keeping my pencil from stabbing through the thin sheet of paper.

  “Hey.” Noel turned to me, a smile on his face. “I just thought of something.”

  “What?”

  “If you knew who I was,” he lowered his voice. “If you knew the reason behind why we’re here, it might make things…easier. You’d at least understand the time line, what’s involved.”

  My heart soared. “So tell me.” I tried to keep the eagerness out of my voice.

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you, remember?”

  I’d had enough. “Are you purposely trying to drive me crazy? Is that your sole mission in life today? Oh wait, I forgot. You’re immortal. This life means nothing to you. Your sole mission for all of eternity?” I didn’t bother hiding my anger or sarcasm.

  His hand came down hard on my arm. “Stop,” he hissed. “That is not what I am trying to do.” He looked around the room. Mr. Pinkney was at his desk, working on a sketch of his own and the rest of the students seemed absorbed with their drawings. If anyone had noticed my outburst, they’d at least pretended not to notice.

  “I can’t tell you outright but I can give you a clue,” he explained evenly. “A visual clue that might help.”

  I swallowed my anger. “OK. What is it?”

  “I don’t have it right now. But I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

  “What is it, though?” I asked. “Can’t you at least tell me that?”

  “I could,” he conceded. “But I think you should wait. Practice some patience.”

  I stared at him, my mouth agape. “Are you criticizing me? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be in my shoes right now?” I lost it then. “To have this huge, monumental decision hanging over my head—one I don’t even understand!—and knowing that you have all of the answers I need, answers that you’re not allowed to share because of some stupid rules you and your brother decided on? You think I’m being impatient? How do you think you would feel?”

  Ashley was looking at us now, I noticed, a bemused expression on her face. I felt the flush of embarrassment rise up my neck and spread to my cheeks. I did not want to be a spectacle.

  “Too late,” Noel commented. “You’ve got an audience now.”

  “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” Mr. Pinkney asked.

  Ashley set down her pencil and watched, folding her arms across her white sweater.

  “No, sir.” Fuming, I returned to my drawing, trying to resist the urge to rip it to shreds.

  “I’m sorry,” Noel whispered. “My comment was uncalled for. I do know this is hard. I wasn’t trying to trivialize the situation. Forgive me?”

  I looked at him, at his steel blue eyes and his mouth turned down in contrition and I felt my anger and frustration ebb away. I nodded. None of this was his fault, I realized. But it wasn’t mine, either.

  Chapter 35

  Noel was waiting for me at school the next morning, holding a thin package wrapped in silver tissue. He smiled and held it out to me.

  “For you,” he said.

  I took it from him. I wanted to tear it open right then but I asked, “Should I open it now? Or wait?”

  He shrugged. “Your choice.”

  I was being given a lot of choices, I realized. However, this one didn’t leave me wrought with indecision. I ripped off the tissue, revealing a plastic wrapped piece of cardboard. I frowned.

  “Turn it over.”

  I did and immediately recognized the artwork. It was a Norman Rockwell print, a holiday cover he’d designed for the Saturday Evening Post.

  “This is my clue?”

  Noel stared at me as if I was missing something obvious. “Yes.”

  I studied it for a minute. It was a picture of Santa Claus sitting at a desk, a large book in front of him, a feather pen resting against his lips. In the background was a circular image of several smiling boys and girls.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Are you trying to tell me you’re Santa Claus?”

  Noel burst out laughing and my heart swelled at the sound. “No, of course not!”

  “Um…” I looked again. “Normal Rockwell??”

  He rolled his eyes. “Be serious, Valerie. I’m not the artist and I’m not in the painting.”

  I stared at him helplessly. “I am being serious! I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me figure anything out.”

  He sighed and brushed back his hair. “Somehow I thought it would be a little more obvious.”

  “That’s because you know what you’re looking for!” I looked at it again. There was a black jar of ink, a sprig of holly tucked underneath a large book and a smaller book in Santa’s hand labeled Expenses. A strange bookmark dangled from the book of names. It was red and green and decorated with crosses and other symbols. Maybe that was it.

  He grabbed my shoulders. “Think about it. Look at the painting—look at everything. There is a clue there, a clue that will lead you to who I am. You just have to look for it.”

  “I am.” I was irritated.

  “Look with your heart,” he urged. He placed his hand on my chest, just above my breast and I leaned in to his touch.

  He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Valerie.” His voice was reproachful, a sharp contrast to his amused smile.

  I slowly expelled my breath. “OK, OK. I’ll look.” I tucked it under my binder. “Can I take this home with me? Or am I limited to supervised visitation?”

  He laughed again and put his arm around me. “It’s a gift—yours to keep.”

  I spent most of the day sneaking peeks at the print. The more I studied it, the more I was certain the bookmark was the key. Later, as we walked to my mom’s waiting car, I told him this.

  “I think it has something to do with the symbols on it.” I felt smug
. “Am I right?”

  “No.”

  I groaned. “How am I supposed to figure this out?”

  Noel opened the passenger door for me. He said hello to my mother.

  “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you at the house,” Mom said. “You should come again. Soon.”

  He smiled at her. “Thanks, Mrs. Ramsey. Maybe I’ll stop in for a visit some time this week.” He turned to me. “Actually, I was thinking it might make sense for me to drive you home after school from now on. You know, save your mom the drive.” Noel looked back at Mom. “Would that be something you’d consider?”

  “What a great idea.” She sounded as thought he’d just come up with the solution to end world hunger.

  “Should I call you later?” Noel asked, lowering his voice. “See how your research is coming?”

  “I guess,” I knew where it was going to go. Nowhere.

  He helped me into the car. “Look at everything, Valerie,” he said. “You’ll find it.” With a final smile, he closed the door.

  Mom pulled out of the line of waiting cars. “I think he really likes you.”

  I knew she couldn’t quite believe it. “Yeah.”

  “Do you think he’ll ask you out? On a date?” I could see the glamorous new outfits and hairstyles dancing through her mind.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Maybe.” I didn’t want to talk about it. Thankfully, she took the hint and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.

  I bounded up the stairs the minute we got home. I grabbed the Rockwell print from my binder and settled in front of my computer. While I waited for it to load, I checked on the stone. I held it in my hand for a moment, savoring the strong glow and sudden flare of warmth it emitted. I tucked it in my pocket.

  I returned to my desk and made a mental catalog of the items depicted—ink, feather, holly, books, and children—and puzzled over how to tie these in with Celtic mythology.

  I started with the feather. Much to my surprise, feathers were prominent symbols in Celtic myths. I wrote down chunks of information: if it was a raven’s feather, it could be the sign of a messenger from the gods—was Noel a messenger god? A feather from a bird of prey had connections to sun and solar gods. I pictured Noel, his midnight black hair and ice blue eyes, and imagined the touch of his skin, always slightly cooler than my own. Noel, a sun god? Not likely.

  Frustrated, I moved on to holly, scrolling through links that described holly as a symbol of good luck and the Winter Solstice. I was about to move on when one link caught my eye: The Holly and Oak Kings. I clicked on the link and read the passage:

  The Holly King, the Lord of the Winterwood and darksome twin of the waning year, rules from Midsummer to Midwinter. At Midsummer, he goes to battle with his twin, the Oak King, for the favor of the Goddess. He slays the Oak King, who goes to rest in Caer Arianrhod until they do battle again at Midwinter. The Oak King and Holly King are mortal enemies at Midsummer and Midwinter, but they are two sides of a whole. Neither could exist without the other.

  Holly King. Oak King. Twins. I scrolled further down, searching for more.

  “So, you are alive.”

  I whirled toward the door. Geoff leaned in the door jamb, a frown on his face.

  “You could have called me or something,” he complained.

  “Sorry.” I felt a stab of guilt. I realized I hadn’t seen or talked to him since our dinner at Belle Haven three days earlier. My day with Noel, the discoveries I’d made…I’d shared none of this with him.

  He moved into my room and sat down on my bed. “What’s been going on? Have you found out anything? What’s happening with the two freaks? They leaving you alone now or something?”

  I cringed at his choice of words. “They’re not freaks.”

  He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

  “They’re just…different.” They’re gods, I wanted to say. Fanchon was right. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him. I closed the window on my screen.

  “So they’re not stalking you anymore?” He pulled a pack of gum from his pocket. He unwrapped a piece and popped it in his mouth. He held the pack out to me but I shook my head. “Is Noel protecting you then? From the other dude? Leon?”

  “Leo,” I corrected. “And he hasn’t been around.”

  “Really? Where is he?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  But Geoff persisted. “Well, doesn’t Noel know? They’re brothers, right?”

  “Yes.” I sighed. “Look, it’s complicated. Noel’s not really sure where he is.”

  He studied me for a minute. “You know something. You know something and you’re not telling me. Did you find out who they are? What they are?”

  I shook my head. “No.” It was the truth. I wasn’t certain of anything. Yet.

  “C’mon, Val. I know you know something. Spill it already.”

  “I don’t know anything,” I told him. “At least not for sure. I’m working on it…and I’ll tell you then.”

  Geoff sighed and leaned back on to my bed. He’d kicked his shoes off. “Who knew you could be so stubborn?” He sat back up. “You know I’m worried about you, right? I left you alone these past couple of days. I didn’t want to press, I didn’t want to be in your face. But then you didn’t call or anything. I asked my dad about you, asked him to check with your dad to make sure you were OK. That got me some strange looks.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. I was. “I’m fine, really. Especially since Leo has been gone. Noel…he’s…” I didn’t finish.

  “He’s what?”

  “He’s keeping an eye out for me. Making sure everything’s OK.”

  Geoff looked at me skeptically. “But doesn’t he want the stone, too? How does that work?”

  “It’s complicated,” I repeated. “I don’t quite understand it myself. But he doesn’t want it right now. And I know he doesn’t want to hurt me.”

  “Fine.” He stood up and slipped back into his shoes.

  “Wait.” I didn’t want him to leave angry. “I appreciate the concern. I really do. I just need a day or two. I’m really trying to figure this out on my own right now, you know?”

  “I get it,” he said. “But I don’t like it. Fanchon, Hope—we’re all here to help. We want to help. Remember that.”

  I nodded. “I will. Thanks.” He was about to leave when I said, “Wait a minute.”

  He turned.

  “You never said what you were doing here. Is your mom over at Fiona’s?”

  “No. I just came to see you.” He left.

  Chapter 36

  Guilt flooded me as I debated whether or not to run after him. He’d come to see me because he was worried, because I hadn’t been in touch. But I’d already told him everything I was willing to share. Admittedly, it wasn’t much. I sighed and turned back to the computer, trying to focus my scattered thoughts on Noel’s identity.

  The afternoon sun disappeared. I surfaced for dinner, grabbed one of the subs Mom ordered from the local deli and brought it back to my room. After hours of reading and more web sites than I could count, I was convinced of Noel’s identity.

  He was the Holly King, the god of winter, in continual battle with his twin the Oak King. The Oak King was golden, the god of sexuality and fertility, who ruled the seasons from Midwinter to Midsummer. Leo. The Holly King was the dark twin, patient and wise, who fought with his twin at Midsummer to rule the second half of the year. Noel. They fought for the favor of the goddess and the defeated god would retreat to the Castle of the Silver Wheel, to learn and rest, until the battle began again. But my stone, that odd glowing rock was not mentioned anywhere. What was it and why did they want it? Noel had said it was missing and that it belonged to the Goddess. Were they on a quest to bring it back to her?

  “Val?” Dad knocked on my door. “You still up? Are you studying?”

  I looked at my clock. It was almost eleven.

  “Sort of.” I hadn’t even started my homework.

&n
bsp; “Finish up, kiddo. You’ve got school tomorrow.” He continued down the hall.

  I stood up and stretched and tried to shift gears. How could I concentrate on homework with the events unfolding in my life? What did it matter if I did my math and chemistry homework when I had two Celtic gods—the gods of the seasons—vying for my attentions and for possession of my mysterious rock?

  But my sense of obligation eventually won out as I decided to make the effort. I changed into pajamas and pulled out my math and Spanish books. I read first, forcing myself to sit at my desk instead of on my bed. I tried to concentrate on the story of Sylvia and her father’s panaderia but Juan, her brother, morphed into Noel and I kept stumbling over my translations. I was too tired, too mentally drained, to concentrate on the words blurring in front of me.

  A noise outside my window startled me. Was it hailing? The day had been beautiful, not a single cloud visible in the sky. A shower of something hit my window again, followed by silence. A few seconds later, it sounded again. I set my book down and moved toward the window. I opened the wooden shutter and peeked out. A dark figure stood outside, ready to toss another handful of pebbles skyward.

  I opened the window, cringing as it creaked. It was the first time I’d opened it in months.

  “What are you doing?” I tried to whisper.

  I could see Noel’s grin, his teeth flashing white in the darkened night. “Trying to get your attention. Can I come up?”

  I hesitated.

  “Your parents are asleep. Their light went out twenty minutes ago.”

  “OK. But be quiet.”

  He waited a bit before responding. “Do me a favor and go back to your desk.”

  I was puzzled but did as he asked. By the time I turned around to face the window Noel was in my room.

  “How did you do that?” I asked, incredulous.

  He chuckled. “Let’s just say it’s one of the perks that go along with being who I am.” He flopped down on my bed and I had a quick flashback to Geoff doing the same thing only hours before. “So. What did you find?”