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Copyright @ 2012 Deborah Dunlevy
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2013
Digital Edition ISBN: 978-0-9847624-4-6
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-9847624-5-3
Madison House Publishing
www.MadisonHousePublishing.com
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the web-address above, or call 317-797-9993.
www.TheBrokenCircle.com
Dedication
For Ellie, Scott, and Lucy
Watching what books do to you is one of the great joys of my life.
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature...
Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
-Helen Keller
The Broken Circle
Book Two
of
The Book of Sight
By Deborah Dunlevy
Preface
His hair whipped into a frenzy by the gusting wind, Dominic stood staring into the smoking pit. A hole the size of a house was surrounded by piles of dirt and twisted tree limbs. The thick smoke made it impossible to see how deep it went. What twenty minutes ago had been an overgrown creek bank was now a crater. If Dominic hadn’t been passing nearby on his bike when he felt the force of the blast and saw the earth flying through the sky, he wouldn’t have believed such a thing possible.
“Hey kid, get back from there! You shouldn’t be anywhere near here.”
The voice and the heavy hand on his shoulder jolted Dominic back into the real world. He turned to look up into the face of the firefighter.
“This area is off limits. Still very dangerous. You need to get back. We’re roping off the whole site.” When Dominic still didn’t respond, the man’s face softened a bit. “Are you okay, kid? Were you hurt in the explosion?”
Dominic shook his head and allowed himself to be led back toward the jumble of flashing lights that represented every emergency vehicle the city of Dunmore owned. Men and women with serious faces and official uniforms swarmed everywhere.
Slowly Dominic’s head cleared. The fireman who was gripping his arm had brought him to the nearest ambulance.
Dominic pulled away. “I’m not hurt.”
The fireman looked at him closely. “Your arm is cut, and you look pretty shaken up, kid. How close were you when the explosion happened?”
“Not that close. I was on the road…on my bike. When it blew up, my bike tipped over. But it’s no big deal. I’m okay. Sorry I went over there. I just wanted to see what happened.”
“Curiosity is natural, kid. No one’s going to put you in jail for that. Let the guys clean your arm up and then you get on home. But you stay away from here from now on, you hear? This site’s going to be dangerous for quite a while, and until we’ve figured out what caused the blast, no one is allowed anywhere near. This is no game, kid. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then. Joey here can take care of you.”
Dominic was silent while the EMT disinfected and bandaged the scrape on his arm. When it was finished, he said a polite thank you and went to get his bike. It was still lying where he had left it by the side of the road.
It wasn’t until he was pedaling home that he allowed himself to think about what this meant.
That explosion site was the same place where last summer he and his friends had discovered a cave that was home to a dangerous, thieving monster, called a pilpi. The pilpi had stolen something valuable from them, and when they had gone to get it back, it had attacked them, forcing them to kill it in order to escape. Of course, no one else in town knew about that. No one else in town would even believe there was such a creature as a pilpi. That was because no one else in town had ever read the Book of Sight.
The previous summer, some of Dominic’s friends had received a mysterious old book, delivered to their front doors. After they read it, they began to see things that had always been around them but they had never noticed before. Dominic hadn’t gotten a book himself. He still wondered about that sometimes, worried that whoever sent the books hadn’t thought that he deserved one. He had been left to find things out because of an old painting in his grandparents’ house.
Anyway, he had read the book now. He had his own copy, pieced together from pages rescued from the pilpi’s hoard. What’s more, now he knew that he wasn’t the first person in his family to have one. He remembered how excited he had been when his mother’s letter arrived from Mexico.
I can’t believe you got a hold of a Book. I did not think there were any left for you to find. If your abuela told you that the painting was mine, then you will already have guessed the truth. I had a Book once, and so did your father. The painting was given to us by someone in our circle. I should have burned it long ago, but your abuela begged to keep it, and I never thought it could do harm hanging in the back hall of my mother’s house.
Dominic’s excitement had faded into disbelief at the bitterness that bled through every line.
I don’t want to remember those days. In time, that Book took away everything I loved, and if that isn’t enough to convince you to destroy it, there is nothing more I can say.
There may have been nothing more to say, but she kept writing him just the same. Every few weeks another letter would come, full of the same dark hints and warnings. She never answered any of his questions, just repeated over and over that horrible things would be coming.
It nagged at him now. Not the extraordinary fact that someone…or something…had blown up the pilpi’s cave. Not the obvious questions as to who would want to do that…and why. Dominic couldn’t stop thinking about something his mother had said in her last letter, something that made him wonder if she knew this was going to happen.
Dominic was so preoccupied with this last thought that he sped right past his grandfather rocking on the front porch and would have headed straight upstairs to his room if his grandmother hadn’t stopped him with a firm grasp of his arm.
“Dominico, me alegro verte. Sentimos los temblores y nos preocupamos. Estás bien?”
Was he okay? Dominic wasn’t totally sure, but he nodded his head anyway. He felt a little surge of guilt that he hadn’t even thought that his grandmother might worry.
Now she was fixing him with that laser stare that always seemed to know too much. She didn’t ask many questions, but Dominic was pretty sure that was because she didn’t have to. She could just read his mind instead.
“I’m fine, Abue. There was an explosion. My bike tipped over, but I didn’t get hurt.” He didn’t mention where the explosion was. Though they knew about the Book of Sight, he had never told his grandparents about the pilpi’s cave and what happened there. He didn’t want to worry them. His grandmother had enough worries these days with his grandfather’s health.
His abuela continued to hold his eyes, but he just looked back as calmly as he could, trying to push down his desperation to get upstairs to his room. After a minute she nodded and turned back to her stove, only saying that dinner would be ready in half an hour.
Dominic took the stairs two at a time.
In his room he reached under the bed for the box that contained all of his mother’s letters. He rifled through them to find the one he wanted and skimmed through it
for the words he remembered.
...I know you think this is a grand adventure, mijo, but you do not understand what will face you, powers that are greater than you can imagine, powers that can call down water from the sky and fire from the earth...
Fire from the earth. Was that what had happened today? Had some unseen power caused that explosion? Dominic wished he could ask his mother these questions. She obviously knew something about it. Just as obviously, she didn’t want him to know.
...I will not say more. I have told you before, this is not a case in which knowledge makes you safer. Knowing things will only put you in more danger. Please, mijo, whatever you already know, try to forget it.
Dominic frowned, filled with the same anger her letters always caused. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need her to protect him. And how could she think he would ever forget what he had learned from the Book of Sight?
He had seen messages in the sky that had saved his life. He had seen a tree stump talking. He had seen leaves glow and transform into jewels right before his eyes. And he had met friends who already knew him better than his mother ever had.
Whatever danger there might be, he would never trade what he had found because he was afraid. There was no going back. His mother should know that. She had obviously read the book herself. What could have happened to make her write the way she did now?
Dominic crumpled the paper in one fist. He would never know what had happened because she would not tell him. He tossed the letter on the bed, not willing to even look at the last bit she had written.
...As for these new friends, you say that you trust them completely. Be careful, mijo. You can never count on what anyone will do when you really need them.
1
Old Problems and New Neighbors
When the trailer started shaking, Logan gripped the flimsy table and sat frozen. He thought vaguely that during tremors you weren’t supposed to just sit there watching your light fixture swinging, but all of his scanty earthquake training had fled his mind. Something about a doorway maybe?
By the time he remembered that he was supposed to be in the doorway, the shaking was over.
With the return of stillness, his mind resumed normal processes. In five steps he was at the back bedroom.
“Darcy, Sam, are you okay?”
Logan’s five-year-old brother emerged white-faced from behind his bed. “What was that?”
“It was an earthquake, stupid,” said Darcy, standing up from where she’d been crouched on the floor.
Logan couldn’t believe she was able to maintain that snotty attitude while her face was white as chalk. “Don’t call Sam stupid, Darcy.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Logan. You’re not my boss.”
“I’m in charge while mom is gone, and you know you aren’t supposed to call people names.”
Darcy just rolled her eyes.
Logan’s hands balled up all on their own before he remembered he was supposed to be comforting Sam. It was amazing how a little dose of Darcy was enough to make even an earthquake seem minor. Ignoring her for now, he picked up Sam and carried him back out to the table, plunking him down in a chair as soon as he got there.
“You’re getting too heavy to carry, buddy. How about we have some mac and cheese for dinner to celebrate surviving an earthquake?”
Sam’s face lit up. Macaroni and cheese was his favorite.
With practiced ease, Logan flipped on the electric stove, then filled a pot of water with one hand while rummaging in the cupboard for the box of macaroni. He turned to the fridge. “I think we have a few more hot dogs to go with it.”
“The hot dogs are all gone,” said Darcy, slouching into the room and radiating irritation. “Please don’t tell me you were going to make mac and cheese and hot dogs again. I think I might barf.”
“Shut up, Darcy. It’s not like I’m not sick of it, too. I’d love a good cheese burger right now, but if you haven’t noticed, we’re a little short of those.”
“Mom always makes something good, even when there isn’t much food.”
“Well Mom’s not here right now, so stop complaining.”
“I wish she was. Then I wouldn’t have to listen to your bossing all day.”
“Shut up, Darcy.”
Miraculously, she did. Logan dumped the noodles into the pot and rummaged around for something to go with the mac and cheese. All he could find was a box of cereal and a can of baked beans. Of course. Logan wondered if his mom really didn’t have enough money to buy food or if she was just too tired to make it to the store. The question depressed him. Deciding that baked beans was an excellent side dish for mac and cheese, he turned for the can opener, only to see Darcy perched on the edge of the table flipping the pages of his sketchbook.
“Put that down now!” He made a grab for it.
Darcy danced out of the way, holding the notebook up high.
“What’s with all the little elf guys you’re drawing? They look so weird.”
“It’s none of your business. Give me back my book.”
“I’m just looking at it.” She jumped up on the couch and turned another page.
“Give it back!”
“Is this supposed to be Eve? Does she know you’re drawing pictures of her? Do you have a crush on her?”
With a growl, Logan snatched the notebook back and then pointed it right at her face. “You have no right to mess with my stuff! I may be stuck taking care of you guys all the time, and I may have to cook your stupid dinner every night, but I don’t have to put up with your nosiness and I don’t have to put up with your mouth. Just shut up and stay away from my stuff.”
“Shut up! That’s all you ever say to me, shut up! Who died and made you God? You think you’re so totally cool because you have your new friends and your little book club and you’re always scribbling away in your little notebook. Well, you’re not cool. And neither are your friends. They’re just as big of losers as you are.”
“Shut up about my friends. Why do you always have to be such a brat?”
Behind him, he heard Sam jump off his chair and run back to the bedroom. He was probably crying. He hated fighting. Just at that moment, Logan didn’t care. He was tired of being stuck in that tiny trailer every day. He was tired of being responsible for two kids who weren’t even grateful. He was tired of never having enough food or enough space or enough anything. It was completely unfair. Other kids his age were out riding their bikes or going to the movies or playing baseball, and here he was day after day cooking dinner out of a box. Turning on his heel, he stomped out of the trailer and slammed the door behind him.
He knew he couldn’t go anywhere. Even feeling this angry, he wasn’t a big enough jerk to leave the kids alone. He just had to be out for a while, to get some fresh air, to not have to look at Darcy. He leaned back against the door, taking deep breaths. Behind him he heard the T.V. click on. Darcy turned it up loud.
This kind of blow-up was becoming a regular event. Logan had always hated the dirty little trailer park and having nowhere else to go while his mom was at work. He’d always wished he had a different kind of life, but ever since he got the Book of Sight last summer and saw how beautiful and amazing things could be, that wish had turned into a burning desire.
He wanted to have more time to spend with his friends who had also read the book. He wanted to be able to read and draw in peace and quiet. More than anything, he wanted to be free from this dingy little place.
But instead of getting better, things just kept getting worse. His mom had been put onto a swing shift at the plant, so now she was gone every afternoon and evening except Sunday. That meant that after school, he had to come straight home and be there for the kids. She couldn’t afford a baby sitter. Now all he had to look forward to was Sunday, his only chance to see his friends and go somewhere worth being, but most Sundays they all had things to do with their families, so even that didn’t always work out. It all just sucked. Everything about his life was co
mpletely...
“Hey there, you must be my new neighbor!” A cheerful voice broke across Logan’s thoughts.
Logan started and looked up. A woman was standing right in front of him, a young woman with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a mischievous smile. She was wearing cutoff jeans and an old t-shirt and she was carrying a box that looked pretty heavy. Logan had no words.
“Moving day,” said the woman, raising her box a bit. “I’m new in town. Did you feel that little tremor just now? I didn’t know they had earthquakes around here. Maybe I should’ve moved somewhere else.”
“Yeah,” said Logan brilliantly. There was a little pause. “I mean, yeah, I felt it, not, you know, that you should have moved somewhere else…um, you need help?”
“Sure! If you don’t mind. There isn’t too much left to go.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Logan took the box from her.
“That’s me right next door. You can just put that anywhere. It’s not like there’s much option anyway.” She smiled again. “I’m Candace, by the way. You can call me Can or pretty much anything else you like, just don’t call me Candy.”
“Um, Logan.”
“Good to meet you, Logan.”
“You too.”
She was right. It only took a couple of minutes to unload the rest of the boxes from the back of her El Camino. Inside the trailer, there wasn’t much furniture, just a table, two chairs, a television on the floor, and a bed in the bedroom. That and the boxes piled everywhere appeared to be everything. Candace didn’t seem embarrassed by her lack of stuff.
“Thanks for the help, Logan. You want something to drink? I’ve got some cold beer in that cooler over there.”
Logan didn’t know what to say. Did she realize he was only 14? Would he look like a loser if he didn’t drink one? He’d had beer before, but it was disgusting.
“Relax, Logan.” Candace laughed. “I’m kidding. There’s only a few Cokes in the cooler.”
The Broken Circle (The Book of Sight 2) Page 1