Beautiful Darkness tcc-2

by Garcia, Kami

  "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

  "Let me save you some time. The answer is yes."

  "I'm not joking."

  She studied me, then picked up her red notebook and started scribbling. "I'm listening. I just have to write down a few things."

  I looked over her shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

  "The sky." She looked back into the scope and then at her selenometer. She wrote another set of numbers.

  "I know that."

  "Here." She stepped aside, motioning me closer. I looked through the lens. The sky exploded into light and stars and the dust of a galaxy that didn't remotely resemble the Gatlin sky. "What do you see?"

  "The sky. Stars. The moon. It's pretty amazing."

  "Now look." She pulled me away from the lens, and I looked up at the sky. Though it was still dark, I couldn't make out nearly half the stars I had seen through the telescope.

  "The lights aren't as bright." I looked back to the telescope. Once again, the sky burst into sparkling stars. I pulled back from the lens and stared out into the night. The real sky was darker, dimmer, like lost, lonely space. "It's weird. The stars look so different through your telescope."

  "That's because they're not all there."

  "What are you talking about? The sky's the sky."

  Liv looked up at the moon. "Except when it's not."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Nobody really knows. There are Caster constellations, and there are Mortal constellations. They aren't the same. At least, they don't look the same to the Mortal eye. Which unfortunately is all you and I have." She smiled and switched one of the settings. "And I've been told the Mortal constellations can't be seen by Casters."

  "How is that possible?"

  "How is anything possible?"

  "Is our sky real? Or does it only look real?" I felt like a carpenter bee the moment he found out he'd been tricked into thinking a coat of blue paint on the ceiling was the sky.

  "Is there a difference?" She pointed up at the dark sky. "See that? The Big Dipper. You know that one, right?" I nodded.

  "If you look straight down, two stars from the handle, you see that bright star?"

  "It's the North Star." Any former Boy Scout in Gatlin could tell you that.

  "Exactly. Polaris. Now see where the bottom of the cup ends, the lowest point? Do you see anything there?" I shook my head.

  She looked into her scope, turning first one dial, then a second. "Now look." She stepped back.

  Through the lens, I could see the Big Dipper, exactly as it looked in the regular sky, only shining more brightly. "It's the same. Mostly."

  "Now look at the bottom of the cup. Same place. What do you see?"

  I looked. "Nothing."

  Liv sounded annoyed. "Look again."

  "Why? There's nothing there."

  "What do you mean?" Liv leaned down and looked through the lens. "That's not possible. There's supposed to be a seven-pointed star, what Mortals call a faery star."

  A seven-pointed star. Lena had one on her necklace.

  "It's the Caster equivalent of the North Star. It marks due south, not north, which has a mystical importance in the Caster world. They call it the Southern Star. Hold on. I'll find it for you." She bent over the scope again. "But keep talking. I'm sure you aren't here for a lecture on faery stars. What's going on?"

  There was no point in putting it off any longer. "Lena ran away with John and Ridley. They're down in the Tunnels somewhere."

  Now I had her attention. "What? How do you know?"

  "It's hard to explain. I saw them in this weird vision that wasn't a vision."

  "Like when you touched the journal in Macon's study?"

  I shook my head. "I didn't touch anything. One minute I was staring at my reflection in the mirror, and a second later all I could see was stuff flying past me like I was running. When I stopped, they were standing in an alley a few feet away, but they couldn't see or hear me." I was rambling.

  "What were they doing?" Liv asked.

  "Talking about some place called the Great Barrier. Where everything will be perfect and they can live happily ever after, according to John." I tried not to sound bitter.

  "They actually said they were going to the Great Barrier? Are you sure?"

  "Yeah. Why?" I could feel the Arclight, suddenly warm in my pocket.

  "The Great Barrier is one of the most ancient Caster myths. A place of powerful old magic, long before there was Light or Dark -- a sort of Nirvana. No logical person believes it really exists."

  "John Breed does."

  Liv looked up at the sky. "Or so he says. It's rubbish, but it's powerful rubbish. Like thinking the Earth is flat. Or that the sun orbits the Earth." Like Galileo. Of course.

  I had come here looking for a reason to go back to bed, back to Jackson and my life. An explanation for why I could see Lena in my bathroom mirror that didn't mean I was crazy. An answer that didn't lead back to Lena. But I found the opposite.

  Liv kept talking, oblivious to the sinking stone in my stomach, and the one burning in my pocket. "The legends say if you follow the Southern Star, you'll eventually find the Great Barrier."

  "What if the star isn't there?" With that one thought, another began to stir, and then another, all coming loose in my mind.

  Liv didn't answer because she was frantically adjusting her telescope. "It has to be there. There must be something wrong with my telescope."

  "What if it's gone? The galaxy changes all the time, right?"

  "Of course. By the year three thousand, Polaris won't be the North Star anymore, Alrai will be. It means 'the shepherd' in Arabic, since you asked."

  "By the year three thousand?"

  "Exactly. In a thousand years. A star can't suddenly disappear, not without a serious cosmic bang. It's not a subtle thing."

  " 'This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.' " I remembered the line from a T. S. Eliot poem. Lena couldn't get it out of her head, before her birthday.

  "Yes, well, I love the poem, but the science is a bit off."

  Not with a bang but a whimper. Or was it not with a whimper but a bang? I couldn't remember the exact words, but Lena had written it into a poem on the wall of her bedroom when Macon died.

  Had she known where this was going all along? I had a sick feeling in my stomach. The Arclight was so hot, it was singeing my skin.

  "There's nothing wrong with your telescope."

  Liv studied her selenometer. "I'm afraid something is off. It's not just the scope. Even the numbers don't follow."

  "Hearts will go and Stars will follow." I said it without thinking, as if it was any old song stuck in my head.

  "What?"

  "Seventeen Moons. It's nothing, just a song I keep hearing. It has something to do with Lena's Claiming."

  "A Shadowing Song?" She looked at me in disbelief.

  "Is that what it is?" I should've known it would have a name.

  "It foreshadows what's to come. You've had a Shadowing Song this whole time? Why didn't you tell me?"

  I shrugged. Because I was an idiot. Because I didn't like to talk about Lena with Liv. Because horrible things came out of that song. Take your pick.

  "Tell me the whole verse."

  "There's something about spheres, and a moon before her time appears. Then it says the part about the stars following where the hearts go.... I can't remember the rest."

  Liv sank down onto the top step of the porch. "A moon before her time appears. Is that exactly what the song said?"

  I nodded. "First the moon. Then the star follows. I'm sure."

  The sky was now streaked with light. "Calling a Claiming Moon out of time. That would explain it."

  "What? The missing star?"

  Liv closed her eyes. "It's more than the star. Calling a moon out of time could change the whole Order of Things, from every magnetic field to every magical one. It would explain any shift in the Caster sky. The natural order in the Ca
ster world is as delicately balanced as our own."

  "What could do that?"

  "You mean who." Liv hugged her knees.

  She could only be talking about one person. "Sarafine?"

  "There are no records of a Caster powerful enough to call out the moon. But if someone is pulling a moon out of time, there's no way to know when the next Claiming will come. Or where." A Claiming. Which meant Lena.

  I remembered what Marian said in the archive. We don't get to choose what is true. We only get to choose what we do about it.

  "If we're talking about a Claiming Moon, this is about Lena. We should wake up Marian. She can help us." But even as I said it, I knew the truth. She might be able to help us, but that didn't mean she would. As a Keeper, she couldn't get involved.

  Liv was thinking the same thing. "Do you really think Professor Ashcroft is going to let us chase after Lena in the Tunnels, after what happened the last time we were down there? She'll have us locked up in the rare-books collection for the rest of the summer."

  Worse, she'd call Amma, and I would be carting the Sisters to church every day in Aunt Grace's ancient Cadillac.

  Jump or stay in the boat.

  It wasn't really a decision, not anymore. I'd made it a long time ago, when I first got out of my car on Route 9, one night in the rain. I had jumped. There was no staying in the boat, not for me, whether Lena and I were together or not. I wasn't going to let John Breed or Sarafine or a missing star or the wrong kind of moon or some crazy Caster skies stop me now. I owed the girl on Route 9 that much.

  "Liv, I can find Lena. I don't know how, but I can. You can track the moon with your selenometer, right?"

  "I can measure variances in the magnetic pull of the moon, if that's what you're asking."

  "So you can find the Claiming Moon?"

  "If my calculations are correct, if the weather holds, if the typical corollaries between the Caster and Mortal constellations stay true ..."

  "It was more of a yes or no question."

  Liv tugged on one of her braids, thinking. "Yes."

  "If we're going to do this, we have to go before Amma and Marian wake up."

  Liv hesitated. As a Keeper-in-Training, she wasn't supposed to get involved. But every time we were together, we found our way to trouble. "Lena could be in a lot of danger."

  "Liv, if you don't want to come --"

  "Of course I want to come. I've been studying the stars and the Caster world since I was five. All I've ever wanted was to be part of it. Up until a few weeks ago, the only thing I'd done was read about it and watch it through my telescope. I'm tired of watching. But Professor Ashcroft ..."

  I had been wrong about Liv. She wasn't like Marian. She wouldn't be content shelving Caster Scrolls. She wanted to prove the world wasn't flat.

  "Jump or stay in the boat, Keeper. Are you coming?" The sun was rising, and we were running out of time.

  "Are you sure you want me to?" She didn't look at me, and I didn't look at her. The memory of the kiss that never happened hung between us.

  "You know anyone else with a spare selenometer and a mental map of missing Caster stars?"

  I wasn't sure her variances or corollaries or calculations were going to help me. But I knew the song was never wrong, and the things I saw tonight proved it. I needed help, and so did Lena, even if what we had was over. I needed a Keeper, even a runaway Keeper with a crazy watch, looking for action everywhere but inside a book.

  "Jump," Liv said softly. "I don't want to stay in the boat anymore." She turned the handle on the screen door quietly, without making so much as a click. Which meant she was going inside to get her stuff. Which meant she was going with me.

  "You sure?" I didn't want to be the reason she was going, at least not the only reason. That's what I told myself, but I was full of crap.

  "You know anyone else dumb enough to search for a mythical place where a rogue Supernatural is trying to call a Claiming Moon?" She smiled, opening the door.

  "As a matter of fact, I do."

  6.18

  Outer Doors

  SUMMER SCHOOL: NEVER STOP LEARNIN' IF YOU WANT TO START EARNIN'.

  That's what the letter board said, where it usually read GO WILDCATZ. Liv and I stared up at it, from the bushes lining the front steps of Jackson High.

  "I'm reasonably sure there are G's in learning and earning."

  "They probably ran out of G's. You know, graduation, GED, Get Outta Gatlin." This was going to be tricky. Summer or not, Miss Hester would still be sitting in the attendance office, keeping watch on the front door. If you failed a class, you had to enroll in summer school. But that didn't mean you couldn't ditch -- if you could get by Miss Hester. Even though Mr. Lee never made good on his threat to fail us for not showing up at the Reenactment of the Battle of Honey Hill, Link had failed biology, which meant I had to find a way to get inside.

  "Are we going to hang out in the bushes all morning?" Liv was getting cranky.

  "Give me a second. I've spent all my time thinking up ways to get out of Jackson. I never put much thought into how to get in. But we can't leave without Link."

  Liv smiled at me. "Never underestimate the power of the British accent. Watch and learn."

  Miss Hester looked over her glasses at Liv, who had twisted her blond hair into a bun. It was summer, which meant Miss Hester was wearing one of her sleeveless blouses and knee-length polyester shorts, with her white slip-on Keds. From where I was hiding under the counter next to Liv, I had a clear view of the bottom of Miss Hester's green shorts and her buniony feet.

  "I'm sorry. Who did you say you were with?"

  "The BEC." Liv kicked me, and I edged toward the hall.

  "Of course. And that would be?"

  Liv sighed impatiently. "The British Educational Consulate. As I said, we're looking for high-functioning schools in the United States to use as models for educational reform."

  "High functionin'?" Miss Hester sounded confused. I made my way around the corner on my hands and knees.

  "I can't believe no one informed you of my visit. May I speak with your headmaster, please?"

  "Headmaster?" By the time Miss Hester figured out what a headmaster was, I was halfway up the stairs. Beyond the blond, even beyond the brains, Liv was a girl with a lot of hidden talents.

  "All right, enough a the Charlotte's Web jokes. Grab your specimen firmly with one hand, and make your incision down the belly, top to bottom, with your scissors." I could hear Mrs. Wilson through the door. I knew what was going on in biology today, from the smell alone. Not to mention the commotion.

  "I think I'm going to pass out --"

  "Wilbur, no!"

  "Ewww!"

  I looked through the window in the door. Pink fetal pigs were lined up in a row on the lab tables. They were small, pinned to black, waxy boards inside metal trays. Except Link's.

  Link's pig was massive. He raised his hand. "Um, Mrs. Wilson? I can't crack the sternum with scissors. Tank's too big for that."

  "Tank?"

  "Tank, my pig."

  "You can use the garden shears in the back a the room."

  I knocked on the window. Link walked right by, but he didn't hear me. Eden was sitting at the long black lab table next to Link's, holding her nose with one hand and poking around inside her pig with tweezers. I was surprised she was in there with the rest of the flunkies -- not because she was a rocket scientist or anything, but because I would've expected her mom and the DAR mafia to find a way to get her out of it.

  Eden pulled a long yellow rope out of her pig. "What is all this yellow stuff?" She looked like she was going to hurl.

  Mrs. Wilson smiled. This was her favorite moment of the year. "Miss Westerly, how many times did you go to the Dar-ee Keen this week? Did you have a shake with your fries and your burger? Onion rings? A side a pie?"

  "What?"

  "It's fat. Now let's look for the bladder."

  I knocked again, as Link walked by with a pair of enormous shea
rs. He saw me and opened the door. "Mrs. Wilson, I gotta use the bathroom."

  We took off down the hall, shears and all. When we banged our way around the corner in front of the attendance office, Liv smiled at Miss Hester and closed her notebook. "Thanks ever so much. I'll be in touch."

  She disappeared out the front door behind us, her blond hair falling out of her bun. You would have to be brain-damaged to not realize Liv was a teenager, in her ripped jeans.

  Miss Hester watched in bewilderment, shaking her head. "Redcoats."

  The thing about Link was, he never asked for details. He just went with it. He went with it when we tried to cut a real tire to make a tire swing. He went with it when I made him help me build a gator trap in my backyard, and every time I stole the Beater to chase a girl the rest of the school thought was a freak. It was a great quality in a best friend, and sometimes I wondered if I would do the same for him if things were reversed. Because I was always the one who asked, and he was always the one who was game.

  Within five minutes, we were rolling down Jackson Street. We made it all the way to Dove Street, when we pulled over at the Dar-ee Keen. I checked my watch. Amma would know I was gone by now. Marian would be waiting for Liv at the library, if she hadn't missed her at breakfast. And Mrs. Wilson would've sent someone to drag Link out of the bathroom. We were running out of time.

  The actual plan didn't come together until we sat down with greasy food on greasy yellow trays at our greasy red table.

  "Can't believe she ran off with Vampire Boy."

  "How many times do I have to tell you? He's an Incubus," Liv corrected.

  "Whatever. If he's a Blood Incubus, he can suck your blood. Same difference." Link shoved a biscuit into his mouth while he rolled another one around in the pool of gravy on his plate.

  "A Blood Incubus is a Demon. A vampire is something in a movie."

  I didn't want to do it, but there was something I had to get out on the table. "Ridley's with them, too."

  Link sighed and crumpled up the biscuit paper. His expression didn't change, but I knew he was feeling the same knot in his stomach I had in mine. "Well, that blows." He tossed the paper at the trash can. It hit the rim and fell onto the floor. "You're sure they're in the Tunnels?"