by K. C. Neal
“Why did you even tell me?” My voice was muffled against my sweatshirt.
“Because, Pyxis. You asked. Don’t ask a question if you’re not prepared to hear the answer.”
I raised my head, straining to hear his last couple of words, and found the bench across from me empty.
Zane was gone.
* * *
At school the next day, I noticed more empty seats than usual in my classes. During morning break, Angeline recited a list of students she knew had fallen ill in the past few days.
My chest tightened a little more with each name. When she couldn’t think of any more, I shook my head. “This is not good.”
“But you helped Toby and Brad and Gen and Hannah, right?” she said, her eyes bright and hopeful.
“I don’t know for sure. I mean, they’re obviously not cured or anything. I’m going to call Brad tonight and see if he’s feeling any better, but I really need to be able to scan him, and I can’t get back to Danton until this weekend.”
Her hopeful expression dissolved into a frown. “Not to make things worse, but I don’t think it’s only high school students. Like, six kids in my mom’s class were out on Friday. She happened to mention it at dinner because that’s definitely not normal. I forgot about it until just now.”
I pulled my palms down the sides of my face and stared at the floor. Ang’s mom taught second grade. I’d hoped that the sickness hitting high school kids would be limited to those who were somehow connected to me, Ang, Mason, or Sophie.
“Well, I guess I’d better go by Aunt Dorothy’s and get more of that tincture. Do you think the sick little kids are still home, or at the clinic?”
The thought of seven-year-olds in the grip of the sickness Harriet was spilling across Tapestry made me want to punch a wall, but I couldn’t afford to get emotional. It was all I could do to stand next to the locker I shared with my best friend and appear as though I was just another high school sophomore anxious for summer break to begin. The truth was, I felt like I was in a footrace against panic, and my legs were starting to give out.
“I don’t know. When I get home I’ll see what my mom says and text you,” Ang said.
“This is getting out of control. I’m surprised the CDC doesn’t have helicopters hovering over Tapestry.” I looked at Ang. “Seriously, at what point do you think people are going to start noticing there’s something strange going on here?”
“Good question. Maybe Harriet is somehow influencing them so they don’t wonder.”
The rest of the day, I battled to stay calm. But whenever I allowed my thoughts to wander from the sick kids in Tapestry and my vulnerable pyramidal union, I remembered Zane’s confession, which sent my stomach roiling all over again. Should I tell Mason about Zane’s vision, or spare him the stress of that little bomb?
Was Zane the reason my relationship with Mason never hit the groove we both expected? As if love wasn’t complicated enough. I hadn’t told Ang about Zane’s confession, either, but I resolved to do it soon. She wouldn’t like it. She’d always had this conviction that Mason and I were the ultimate Meant-to-Be Couple, but if I didn’t talk to someone soon, my brain would grind itself up and run right out my ears.
|| 23 ||
AUNT DOROTHY AND I collected more botanical material from the meadow and started two large soup pots heating on the stove. She still had some of the first batch of tincture in a jar, and she emptied it into four glass dropper bottles for me. The tincture bottles reminded me of the shelves of herbal medicines at Harriet’s shop. I shivered. I put the bottles into my bag and sat down at the kitchen table, my chin propped on my hand. My great-aunt sorted flowers, stems, and leaves on the counter.
“Aunt Dorothy, did Harriet kill Grandma Doris?”
“Goodness, what brought that on?” she said without looking up.
“We just never talked about it,” I said. “And, frankly, I think I need to know what happened to her and to you, if it’s connected to Harriet or the convergence or any of this.”
She turned and propped one hand on the counter, leaning against it. Her eyes downcast, she looked thoughtful. After a few moments, she drew a breath and began to speak. “The day that your grandmother was killed, we were unprepared. Evelyn had already passed, so there was only so much the three of us could do. There was a breach of the convergence, and yes, I suspect Harriet acted as the key.”
“So she’s not the one who hurt you?” I asked.
“No . . . no.” My great-aunt paused, her mouth working. “It was a man. Someone who’s been here before.”
Chills spilled over my neck and down my back. I pulled my hands into my sleeves and glanced out the window over the sink, remembering fog and the shadow man who had stalked me here in a dream. Back before I knew what any of it meant.
“You know of the nineteen-fifteen tragedies?” she continued.
I nodded. “The McClintock murders and a bunch of other horrible stuff happened that year.”
“Yes. That was shortly after the convergence emerged here. The first Tapestry pyramidal union formed in response, but . . . ” she trailed off. “Your great-grandmother was the Pyxis in that first union. It was many months before they brought the convergence under control. The man who murdered the McClintocks and caused the other tragedies came here through the breach.”
My heart pounded an uneasy tempo. “Is . . . is he here? Like Harriet?” I asked.
“He doesn’t live in this world the same way you and I—and Harriet—do,” she said. I let out a small breath. But Aunt Dorothy’s next words erased any relief. “He’s a slippery one, traveling between the worlds and hiding out. Last year, he returned to Tapestry. He killed Doris, nearly killed me, and injured Harold.”
“That’s why Mr. Sykes had knee replacement surgery.” I slouched, trying to picture three frail old people fending off an evil force from another world. Considering how poorly our drill had gone when Sophie didn’t show up, I couldn’t imagine how the three of them could do anything against the man without one of their Guardians.
“That’s right, my dear.” Aunt Dorothy shook her head. “We managed to defend Tapestry, but, obviously, at great cost.”
“What does the man look like? What’s his name?”
“We believe his appearance changes. Except for his eyes, which you would see once and never, ever forget. He may have a name, but we do not know it. We call him Quicksilver, for the pale gray color of his eyes,” Aunt Dorothy said. She turned back to the botanical material spread on the counter and pushed it into neat piles. Then she joined me at the table.
“He’s coming back, isn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes, I believe so.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her and met my gaze. “And this time, he has a helper on this side.”
“Harriet.”
She nodded. “We have some time, though. He will not breach the convergence until it is at its weakest point, at the winter solstice. I imagine that until then, Harriet will try to make things as difficult as possible. And with the summer solstice, her power will increase parallel to yours.”
“Ugh. Great.” The summer solstice was only days away. I knew Harriet was down for the count for a little while, after she’d kidnapped Sophie, but if the solstice would fuel her abilities, it was only a matter of time before she was back in action. “I think I’ve figured out a way to trap Harriet. I haven’t told the others yet, but I think it will work.” I explained the plan.
Her eyes glinted. “Clever, my dear. If you can draw her out, I think the four of you have an excellent chance of overpowering her.”
I let out a whoosh of breath. With both Zane and Aunt Dorothy’s stamp of approval, the plan had to be a winner.
I chewed at my thumbnail for a moment. “Why does the convergence change with the solstice, anyway?”
“It’s an ancient relationship, as far as I understand.” Aunt Dorothy frowned. “You know there are other convergences.” I nodded. Her frown deepened for a mom
ent. “The others are much, much older than ours. And there were still others that no longer exist.”
“They just disappeared?” I said.
“More like faded away. Just as the configuration of the earth changes over time—continents shift, mountain ranges rise and fall—the configuration of this world in relation to the hypercosmic realm also shifts.”
“So, someday the Tapestry Lake convergence will be gone, too,” I said. What earthly or cosmic shifts would that require? Thoughts of Zane’s prophecy flashed through my mind, and I shook my head. “But what’s the relationship with the solstice?”
“Sunlight fuels the plant life that grows in our meadow. But it’s not just about plants, as you know. The botanicals are merely one physical manifestation of the source of the pyramidal union and all that goes with it. The convergences are actually the remnants of a civilization that faded away long ago.”
“What, like, aliens or something?” My eyes grew wide.
“No, no. They’re sometimes called the People of Peace. Or People of the Other Realm.” She paused, and her mouth quirked in a ghost of a grin. “Some call them fairies.”
I stared at her, not even trying to hide my incredulity. “You have got to be kidding me.” Then something seriously disturbing occurred to me. “Aunt Dorothy, if you say that I’m part fairy or something, I’m telling you right now, I’m going to lose it.”
The sound of her laugh rang through the kitchen. “Oh, my dear, no. That civilization died out centuries ago.”
I let out a huge breath, and then chuckled. “Thank you. There’s only so much I can handle.”
“Only one of their kind remains,” she said. “I met him once.”
This conversation was turning into a surreal roller coaster of revelations. I waited for her to continue.
“He comes here to record the names on the scroll,” she said.
“That piece of paper in the pyxis?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“So he’s the one who brought the pyxis to Tapestry in the first place,” I said. “Wait, there’s a name missing, though. Sophie’s wasn’t filled in.”
“I expect he’ll return soon to complete the scroll,” Aunt Dorothy said.
* * *
Later, I borrowed Aunt Dorothy’s Buick so I could run a couple of errands for her, and I stopped by Angeline’s house. We sat on the floor of her loft bedroom with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and glasses of milk. The loft took up practically half the second floor of the house. She had a corner of it set up with a sofa and a TV, a secondhand desk she’d painted and made into a vanity next to her dresser, two closets, a mini fridge with sodas in it, and still plenty of space to spare. I’d always envied Ang’s room.
“Did you seriously think she’d say you were a descendant of ancient fairy folk?” Ang fell over on her side, dissolving into a fit of giggles.
“What?” I tried to give her a dirty look, but started cracking up. “Can you really blame me after everything else that’s happened?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Ang said. She pulled a straight face that lasted about two seconds before she snorted out another laugh.
“Anyway, moving on.” I gave her a pointed look until she stopped snickering. “Actually, there’s something else I have to tell you. About Zane.” I took a huge bite of gooey cookie.
“Did you see him again? Well, not ‘see’ exactly. I mean . . . you know what I mean.”
I nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, we kind of met up. I wanted his help with something. And then he told me that he sometimes gets visions of the future. He had one about me.”
Ang’s eyes widened.
I cleared my throat and swallowed. “He said that he and I are destined to be together.”
“Like, together together?”
“I guess so,” I said. I looked down into the bit of milk remaining in my glass, and swirled it around in the glass. “Apparently his visions always come true.”
“Wow.” Ang gaped at me, and then frowned. “But what about Mason?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say when or how or anything. But I’m thinking, how’s that going to work? He’s part of the Perth pyramidal union; I’m part of ours here. It’s not like we’re free to just pick up and move. I mean, even when I’m, like, thirty, I’m still going to be tied to this place.”
Ang bit her lips and a look of worry clouded her face. “Yeah. It seems pretty far-fetched. You know he’s able to link with you, but it’s not like he’s going to take Mason’s place here or anything. Would he?”
“I can’t imagine why that would happen.”
Ang shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think Zane is lying?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. I don’t know why he’d do that. I just don’t know if. . . .”
Ang waited for me to finish.
“Do you think I should tell Mason about it?”
“Yeah, you should. But wait until after the solstice, when things have calmed down. We don’t know what the prophecy really means, or even if it’s real. I think it would be bad to do anything to upset our union right now, you know?”
“You’re probably right.” I sighed. “We don’t need that. The four of us are just barely starting to come together. I guess I should try to stop thinking about the prophecy. I have plenty of other things on my mind, you know?”
“True. Worrying isn’t going to change anything.” She gave me a sympathetic look.
We chatted for a few more minutes, and then I left for Aunt Dorothy’s. Despite saying that I wasn’t going to worry about it, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zane’s prophecy. And Zane. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that it meant something bad for Mason.
That night, I went to bed early, exhausted from absorbing so much new information.
Sometime in the night, I smelled the sweet aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls. I opened my eyes and found myself facing my grandmother in her kitchen.
“Grandma Doris, is this . . . I mean, are you. . . ?”
She beamed at me, and I knew she’d brought me here, to the hypercosmic realm. “How are you, dear?” she said, her voice a softer version of Aunt Dorothy’s.
“I’m . . . I don’t even know where to begin.” My voice faltered as tears filled my eyes. “I wish you were home with us.”
“I know you do, dear.” She reached across the table and patted my hand. I wiped my sleeve across my face.
“Bradley is sick. So are a bunch of other kids,” I said. “I’m trying to cure them. I don’t know if it’s working.”
“Your tincture should help. It takes time, but it’s the safest way.” She gave me a solemn look, and a stone seemed to sink down through my chest. “Corinne, there’s something you need to know.”
“Is it about Quicksilver?” I said. “Aunt Dorothy just told me about him, how he’s going to return at the winter solstice.”
“He won’t be alone,” she said. “He’s building a shadow army.”
“A . . . what?”
“It’s difficult to describe, but we believe he’s forming beings from the fog, as you call it. And then he’ll animate them using the threads of subconscious in the hypercosmic realm.”
“Is that even possible?” Who could she mean when she said “we?” Maybe the people—ghosts?—with the gift of foresight Aunt Dorothy had told me about.
“We do not know for sure, but if there’s even a chance . . . ” My grandmother raised her eyes, as if she saw something in the distance behind me. “It would be our worst nightmares brought to life.”
I twisted my fingers together in my lap. “Does Aunt Dorothy know about this?” I asked.
“She knows. But she believes it is rumor at most. And she wants to protect you from rumors and the often needless worry they cause.”
“I knew it,” I said. “I bet there are all kinds of things she’s not telling me. But . . . what am I going to do, Grandma Doris?” I tried to sound brave.
“I do not know, chil
d,” she said. I reveled in the kind smile I hadn’t seen for ages. “But I’m working on it.”
I opened my eyes and stared at the small, kidney-shaped water stain on the ceiling of my bedroom. I’d post something on the website about my grandmother’s message as soon as I got up. The prospect of an army of shadow men left my chest tight with dread. I set my jaw and took a deep breath. I could only deal with one thing at a time. And right now, I had a plan for dealing with Harriet. But I’d need the rest of my union.
|| 24 ||
MASON, ANGELINE, AND SOPHIE lay in a row on my bedroom floor.
“Aw, this is hopeless,” Sophie moaned, and her eyes popped open.
“Seriously, Corinne,” Ang said. “Isn’t there anything else you can tell us about how to do this?”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was some easy way to explain it.” I tapped my finger against my cheek. “Let’s try this. You and Sophie relax and even go to sleep if you can, and Mason and I will go over there and try to, like, summon you or something.”
“Okay,” Ang said, doubt in her voice.
I stretched out on my bed and closed my eyes. I’d been practicing popping over the hypercosmic realm, and now I could go from wide awake to the hypercosmic realm in only a few seconds. I didn’t even need to be fully asleep; I could transport myself just by relaxing and spacing out a little, and focusing on the cove. Mason discovered how to do it, too, though he wasn’t as fast as me. I thought that had something to do with my powers strengthening as we approached the solstice.
My mind drifted, and my pulse began to slow. I inhaled deeply and let the breath out to a measured count of ten. By the time I finished counting, I stood on the cool sand near the water’s edge. As always, the darkness of night shrouded the cove here.
A minute or two later, muffled footfalls approached from my right.
“Ha, beat you,” I said to Mason.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a wry smile. “You really think we’re going to be able to pull them over here with us? I wasn’t sure what you meant by that.”