by Natale Ghent
Caddy considered lying this time, to save the girl further anguish. But what was the point? “Yes.”
The girl frowned sympathetically. “That’s awful. I hope you’re okay.” She extended her hand. “My name’s April.”
They shook. She seemed genuinely kind. “I’m Caddy.”
“I know.” April noticed the welts on her face and neck. “You’re beaten up pretty badly.”
“Yeah.” Caddy drew back her sleeve. The mark was bloody and raw from her trip through the stone. The bandage was shredded. She dabbed at the blood with the cuff of her jacket, then pulled her sleeve down and explored the welts left by the maple saplings. They were hot and tender to the touch. They would heal and fade with time. The mark wouldn’t, though. It was hers for life—however long that would be. And now she’d outed herself to this girl. She was relieved, really. She wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. Not to April anyway. She looked at the stone lying next to her.
“Did anything happen while I was out?”
April shook her head. “Do you think they’re gone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it bothering you?” April pointed to Caddy’s blood-stained sleeve. “The mark, I mean.”
Yes, Caddy thought. In so many ways. She shrugged. “It stings.”
“We can take care of it once we find the others.”
“If there’s anyone left.” The look of horror on April’s face made Caddy retract her words. “I didn’t mean it …”
April tucked her knees under her chin. She looked like a lost child. “I wish we could just stay here.”
“Me too.”
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Seventeen.”
This made April happy. “I’m nineteen. It’s nice to have someone my age around.”
Even a freak like me? Caddy wondered. “What about Poe?”
April’s face lit up. “Oh, yeah. He’s really nice. I’m kind of shy to talk to him, he’s so smart.”
“I know what you mean. We went to school together.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Caddy caught a glimpse of her sock foot and thought of Meg. She would never forget the image of her lying beneath that Buick. “I saw his girlfriend killed in a car accident.”
April’s smile fell. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry,” Caddy apologized again. “It’s just … I guess I’m kind of in shock about everything.”
“No … it’s okay. I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. He never said anything. What was she like?”
Caddy massaged the back of her neck. She’d wrenched it crawling through the opening to the cave. “Meg? She was beautiful. Popular. I didn’t know her very well but she seemed nice.”
“How sad.”
“I know.” Caddy studied her hands. They were banged up pretty bad. Thankfully, they’d stopped shaking. It was going to hurt like hell to go back through the rock. She’d be smarter this time though. She’d remove her jacket and go slowly, try not to freak out. “We should probably go.”
April shrank with fear.
“I’ll go first,” Caddy volunteered. “Wait until I’m through before you start. I’ll give you the all-clear.”
April clutched Caddy’s arm. Her voice was earnest. “I promise not to tell anyone … about the visions.”
It was a comfort to hear her say it, even if Caddy knew everyone would find out soon enough. She smiled. “Thanks. I’m really glad you’re here.”
She peeled off her jacket, and looked through the rock. The sun was shining on the other side. If there were Company men lurking out there, so be it, Caddy thought. They couldn’t stay in this cave forever. She exhaled and reached into the mouth of the stone, pulling herself in. Flattening against the rock, she inched along, pushing her jacket in front of her. It was a tight squeeze, but not as tight as before. And she was moving toward the light so she could actually see where she was going. Her fingertips burned as she gripped the stone, but the fear of what might be waiting on the other side kept her mind focused.
When she reached her shoe, Caddy freed it and held it in one hand as she crawled. At the opening, she shoved the shoe and her jacket out of the mouth and waited several seconds. Nothing. She shimmied from the rock like a lizard and looked around. The woods were quiet. A light breeze moved through the trees. No one would ever guess people had been killed here. With a wave of her arm, Caddy signalled to April, then crouched beside the rock and quietly pulled on her damp shoe and jacket. She checked the woods for movement. After several minutes, April squirmed from the rock and squatted next to her.
“We can call the others with the mark,” she whispered.
Caddy nodded, even though she didn’t want to use it. If her father was alive, she didn’t want to risk his safety. She couldn’t explain this to April. All she could do was hope that everything would be okay. “We should find a safer place. We’ve been here too long.”
They walked, searching the trees as they went. At a thick clump of cedars, Caddy stopped.
“We’ll be well hidden here.”
They crept into the cedars. April faced her, taking her hands. “Concentrate on the mark and they’ll know where we are.” She closed her eyes.
Caddy hesitated. Her mind was a whirlwind, spinning from her father to the Company men to Poe. Had he made it to safety? She would have to use the mark to find out. She hoped her father was smart enough not to answer the call, wherever he was. Reining her thoughts in, she held them still and called up the mark, a sparkling mandala in her mind’s eye. She imagined herself walking its path, weaving around and around, in and out. There was a buzzing at the back of her neck and the sensation of her body lifting. Within minutes, the Dreamers arrived, gathering in the cedar grove. Caddy waited for Poe. He didn’t come with the others.
“There are only twenty-two of us,” she said. “Who’s missing?”
The Dreamers stood, too afraid to answer.
“We do not dwell on the past,” a man said. “We must always look forward. It is the only way to stay whole.”
“What if some are injured?” Caddy asked. “What if they need help?”
“We can’t risk the safety of those who are here—for the sake of the dream, we must carry on.”
“There’ll be no one left to dream if we don’t take care of each other.” Caddy petitioned the others for support. “Who have we lost?” she asked again.
The man flew into a rage, spitting through his teeth. “Attachments are dangerous. They’ll get you killed. Hex would want us to move forward.”
“We can’t leave people behind.”
The man took a threatening step toward her. Caddy thought he was going to hit her until a woman intervened.
“Nicholas,” the woman said, her voice quavering. “I saw him fall to the knife.”
The man glowered at her. There was an uncomfortable silence. Another Dreamer spoke.
“Theresa. I saw her fall.”
“Prita,” another said.
“Christophe.”
“Madelaine.”
Caddy held her breath, waiting for his name. “What about Poe?” she asked. “Did anyone see him fall?”
The man exploded. “Enough! We have to move to safety and wait to be contacted.”
“We can’t leave without Poe,” Caddy insisted. “If no one saw him fall, we have to look for him.”
“Can’t you see the trouble you’re causing?” the man said. “Hex will not be happy with you.” And then he calmed himself and smiled as though everything were fine. “It’s time to move.”
Caddy didn’t care what Hex or anyone else thought. She wasn’t going to abandon Poe. If he was alive, she would find him. She only wished she could do the same for her father. “I won’t go.”
“Then stay,” the man said. “It’s your choice.”
Caddy hoped April would stand beside her, but she was already mingling with the other Dreamers. They moved, quiet as deer, into the forest. As soon as the
y were gone Caddy started to question her decision. What made her think she could possibly help Poe? What if he was already dead? She couldn’t leave without knowing. If it had been her who was missing, he wouldn’t stop until he found her. She believed this.
Searching the ground, Caddy found a branch with a thick knot on the end. It was a good, strong stick, a heavy club. It made her feel better just to hold it. She stayed close to the trees, mouthing the words of her song, moving from shadow to shadow. Before long, she was clearing the hill and could see the river.
On the bank, she discovered a dark, wet stain. She touched it, rubbing her fingers together. Blood. Around the stain were the signs of struggle—torn grass, an upturned stone. But no body. Caddy looked closer and caught something glinting in the grass. It was a thin gold chain with a small green stone. A lump formed in her throat. It was Poe’s fluorite talisman, the same as hers. She picked the necklace up, holding it in her hand for a moment before cleaning it in the river and pushing it into her pocket for safekeeping. It didn’t mean he was dead, she told herself. Maybe he’d dropped it while running.
Downriver, Caddy found more blood on some boulders. She kneeled, cupped her hands in the water and washed the stones. “I will remember,” she promised the one whose blood had been spilled. When the stones were clean she crossed the river, jumping from rock to rock so as not to get her feet wet again. At the last stone she leapt onto the bank. The cabin was at the top of the hill, its door ajar. Everything was quiet.
With small fox steps, Caddy crept up to the building, club raised. She peeked through the window. The cabin was empty, except for the blankets abandoned on the floor from when the Dreamers had escaped. Now what? She stared down at the river and wondered if Poe hadn’t run with the others after all. Maybe he’d doubled back and gone in the opposite direction.
Caddy set out, away from the cabin and the river. Creeping through the trees, she nearly shouted when a partridge burst from a bush in front of her, its wings a drum, beating in her chest. She hid in a thicket to collect herself, checking carefully several times before moving again.
At a stone outcropping she stopped. It looked like a reclining giant, its shoulders sharp and angled at the end and easily fifty feet high. It wore a beard of mud-swallow nests, and the birds flitted in and out, undisturbed. This would be a smart place to hide, she thought. Good vantage point. Substantial cover. And the birds would give warning if anyone came near. Caddy was thinking this when she suddenly spied Poe’s face shining out among the bushes at the edge of the cliff. Her hand shot into the air to grab his attention. He pointed ominously to something behind her.
Caddy’s blood froze. Less than fifty feet away was an enormous black dog.
She bolted, the swallows erupting in a blur of wings. Poe burst from the bushes, scrambling along the edge of the cliff toward its base. The beast was on her in seconds. It leapt and she cranked around, wielding the club. With a bone-crushing thud, she hit the dog in the head. The animal yelped and rolled. It shot to its feet, mouth frothing, teeth flashing, and attacked, hitting her in the chest with its paws. Caddy fell, blocking the dog’s deadly jaws with the club. It snarled and snapped, over and over, inches from her face.
Poe jumped, clearing the last eight feet of cliff, a rock held in his hand. Swinging his arm, he smashed the stone down, crushing the dog’s skull, killing it instantly. A Company man crashed from the trees, knife gleaming. Caddy screamed. Poe hurled the stone at him and charged, hitting him in the stomach and knocking the blade to the ground. They fought, a flurry of fists and feet. Poe managed to snatch up the knife and drive it into the man’s throat. The man grappled and clawed, blood spitting from his lips. His face contorted with confusion. Poe pushed the knife deeper, pressing with all his strength, until the man went limp.
From the shadows, a raven appeared. Then the shadow itself congealed and took form. Caddy watched, convinced it was a trick of the light when the shadow shivered over the ground and hung above the dead Company man. The man’s body convulsed violently, and the shadow darkened before dissolving between the trees.
“Did you see that?” Caddy whispered.
Poe was staring at the blood on his hands.
OL’ SILVER
Francis, Kenji and the mouse were waiting for Skylark when she returned to the room. No one said anything, but she could feel the weight of their concern. She hoped they didn’t know where she’d been. She thought she saw something in the old man’s eyes, but if he did know something, he was keeping it to himself. Kenji was inscrutable behind his glasses, as always. The mouse scuttled up her arm and groomed himself. She decided to act casual.
“What’s up?”
“Target practice.” Francis didn’t wait for her response. He took her hand and with a quick clap, the four of them were standing in the middle of a large green space. A bull’s-eye stood at one end of the field.
“All right,” Francis said. “Aim your light at that target over there and see if you can hit it.”
“What do you mean?” Skylark asked.
Francis raised his hands to demonstrate. “Channel your energy through your hands and fire it like a weapon.” He fired a short burst of light at the bull’s-eye, hitting it right in the middle.
Skylark straightened her back and fixed on the target. Holding her hands at heart level, she blasted a beam of light so powerful, it hit the target like napalm, her robe reverting with the impact. The bull’s-eye exploded, along with an innocent line of trees in the background, leaving a curtain of orange flames and black smoke rolling against the blue sky.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Francis hollered. He shot a dousing ray to extinguish the fire.
A charred crater smoked in the pristine carpet of green where the target had stood. Kenji shot a wry look at Skylark. She turned from the smouldering hole, tugging on her robe with disappointment.
“Why do I keep reverting like this?”
“It’s the power,” Francis said.
“You don’t revert.”
“Sure I do. When we battle, when we exert a great effort, we need all the energy we’ve got to make our shots count. That’s why it’s essential not to go in half-cocked. Once we revert, the Speaker can pick up on our energetic signature and the rodeo starts—whether you’re in the saddle or not. You’ve got more power than anyone I’ve ever seen, so it’s not a surprise you revert so easily.”
Skylark pointed at the gaping hole in the ground. “What good is all this power if I can’t control it?”
“Now, don’t get hasty. These things take practice. Let’s try reining it in a bit. Cup your hands next time.”
“Clear your mind,” the mouse advised her. “Beaming is a surgical art. It requires an equal measure of precision and power.”
Skylark shook her hands as though preparing for a piano recital, and cupped her palms. She looked at Francis for approval. He plucked at his beard and nodded.
“Aim for the hole.”
Skylark fired. Another wall of light blasted from her hands, reigniting the smoking crater and the scorched trees.
“Subtle,” Kenji said.
Francis rocked back on his heels, mulling. “We can’t go around blowing things to blue blazes all the time,” he instructed. “Our work requires more … delicacy.”
“You’re the one who told me this takes practice,” Skylark said.
“Not to worry,” the mouse soothed, patting her neck. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“What about the Ephemeral?” Kenji suggested.
“You mean Ol’ Silver?” Francis hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Now, that’s an interesting thought …”
“Tell me you don’t mean the Elusive Ephemeral,” the mouse said. “You’re going to need permission for that.”
Kenji ignored him. “She may give Skylark more control.”
Francis squinted at Kenji. “When’s the last time we knocked on her door?”
“Not since we got in trouble.”
“Who a
re we talking about?” Skylark asked. They just kept going as though she wasn’t there.
“They may not bond …” Francis said.
“We won’t know unless we try.”
Francis and Kenji nodded at each other, and finally acknowledged her.
“We’re going on a field trip,” Francis said.
Skylark shrugged. “Okay.” It had to be better than standing around demolishing things and feeling foolish.
In a heartbeat they were standing in a hushed, dimly lit room. Its pink marble walls were lined with illuminated glass cases holding all kinds of treasure—gold boxes and bowls, swords, shields, urns, vases, gauntlets, shoes, scrolls, illuminated manuscripts. It was the coolest place Skylark had ever seen.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice swallowed by the ambient energy in the room.
Francis smiled. “The Museum of Relics and Artifacts.”
He walked over to a case that looked like a magician’s prop. It was tall and thin, with gold borders and a filigreed, antique padlock securing the door. Inside the case, a bright cloud of mist hung, captured and held by an alchemist’s trick. Skylark peered through the glass to get a better look and was startled when the holographic image of a glistening bow and quiver jumped into view beside her.
“The Elusive Ephemeral,” a scholarly voice narrated. “Also known as the Bow of Ages. Believed to bestow extraordinary precision upon its owner. Characteristics—scrolling colour and light polarity serve as a form of communication and camouflage. Origin—unknown.”
Skylark couldn’t believe her eyes. The Elusive Ephemeral was exquisite—all glimmer and mystery. “How beautiful.”
“One of a kind,” the mouse said.
“Whose was it?” she asked, tapping on the glass. “And why is it hidden in that mist?”
Francis ran his hand along the length of the case. “As far as I know, Ol’ Silver has never been anybody’s. No one’s had the right touch. And that mist … it’s hers. She creates it and hides in there like a cuttlefish.”
“She’s never been held?” Skylark asked.
“She’s skittish as a filly.”