The Trilogy of Two
Page 20
Sonja nibbled on a pink petal. “I don’t want to. They’re immature.”
“She shouldn’t be left alone with that boy,” said Mr. Fortune Teller.
“Well, why didn’t you stop her?” Sonja snapped back.
“Go find them, Sonja,” ordered Alexandria.
Sonja blinked and said, “That’s my name. I am Sonja.” It had always been a fifty-fifty chance, but nevertheless, for the first time, Alexandria had gotten it right.
She stared at Sonja. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
Sonja groaned and stood up. “It’s not fair,” she muttered as she plodded off.
Tiffins were pitching silk tents and building fires. Steaming teapots rattled and filled the air with the smell of seasoned flowers. Sonja pressed her lips to the mouthpiece of the pennywhistle. She slowly and methodically moved her fingers over the little holes, trying to remember the notes. She might as well practice if she was going to spend the rest of her life alone. She saw a glimpse of red plaid fluttering up ahead. It was Charlotte. She broke into a run but knocked over a bowl. Water splashed everywhere.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Sonja apologized to a wrinkled, old Tiffin. She clumsily wiped his wings with the hem of her dress.
“No worry,” he said, chuckling. “No worry.”
Children were gathered at the edge of the meadow. Charlotte and Edgar mingled among them. Sonja ran up to her sister, out of breath. “I’ve been looking for you,” she said. “We should go back.”
“Go back?” Charlotte laughed, munching on a piece of Blue Fancy. “We just got here. I have an hour.”
Sonja frowned. “Where’d you get that? You’ll make yourself sick.”
Edgar pulled Charlotte toward him. “Don’t worry, Sonja. I’ll take care of her.”
Sonja turned away. She wanted to scream. She had never felt more distant from Charlotte in her life. The Tiffins’ laughter rang in her ears. Her head spun. She stumbled backward.
“Watch it,” warned a voice.
It was Wolf Boy. His arm was wrapped around the Tiffin girl. He pointed.
Sonja was standing right at the edge of a sheer cliff that dropped straight down into blackness. She swallowed and stepped forward slowly.
“What’re you doing here, anyway?” asked Wolf Boy.
Sonja shrugged. “It’s a free world.”
An excited murmur swept through the crowd. Everyone cleared back away from the cliff. One Tiffin stepped forward, alone. The others shouted encouragement. The Tiffin bowed, took three quick steps, then leapt out into the sky, somersaulted in midair, and tumbled down into the chasm. The others whistled and clapped. Another bolted forward and over the edge, spinning away like a top. More Tiffins jumped, each with his or her own stunt.
Sonja watched in awe. She wished she was not such a scaredy-cat.
“Want a turn?” the Tiffin girl asked Wolf Boy.
He nodded enthusiastically.
She hooked her arms around his waist, flapped her wings vigorously, and lifted him off the ground.
“I’m flying!” Wolf Boy sang out, rising through the air. “I’m flying!”
“I want to try!” begged Charlotte. “Someone take me!”
“Lower your voice,” Sonja whispered, grabbing her arm.
“Why?” yelled Charlotte. She wriggled her arm free. “I want to fly!”
Wings flapped overhead. Suddenly, Charlotte was whipped up off the ground. She laughed ecstatically as a Tiffin boy carried her away.
Edgar followed shortly, embraced by another Tiffin. “It’s incredible!” he exclaimed, treading his feet through the air.
Soon, Sonja was left on the edge of the cliff with only a wingless Tiffin. He had bony stumps where his wings should have been. After a moment, he sullenly walked away. Sonja trembled in the dark, alone. She blew into the pennywhistle. It shrieked. Without her Talent, she was a nobody. Without Tatty, she had no home. Without Charlotte, she might die of a broken heart.
Sonja dropped to her knees. Alexandria said the Seven Edens was the world’s life support. Well, Charlotte was hers.
She grabbed the locket around her neck and cried out, “Come help me, Mother and Father, whoever you are!”
Sonja’s hair flapped in a gust of wind. She looked up. A Tiffin boy hovered over her. “Your sister told me to get you.”
Sonja scrambled to her feet. Charlotte needed her! The idea of flying over the precipice made Sonja sick, but she had to be brave for her sister’s sake.
“I’m—I’m ready,” she stammered.
The Tiffin flung his arms around her waist and yanked her up into the sky. Her dress blew up like a balloon. Sonja looked down at her feet dangling in midair. Her stomach leapt into her throat. They were soaring across the dark landscape at breakneck speed. Before she could find her voice to scream, the Tiffin boy brought her gently to the ground. She staggered.
“You okay?” he asked.
Sonja lifted her head. They stood in a wide patch of glowing flowers, small, gleaming buds illuminating an entire field.
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.
“Lightning struck here so many times, its energy got trapped permanently in the ground.”
A voice shouted: “Let’s find Crackus!” Other voices yelled and cheered and formed a boisterous crowd.
“Who’s Crackus?” asked Sonja.
“A strange old Tiffin. A sort of a hermit, you might say. Traveled in the Outskirts for years with a sideshow. Made him a little . . . unsteady. The Great Tiffin finally brought him back, because he reads trees.”
“Reads trees?”
“Hears vibrations and voices from the roots underground. There’s a network, you know. It spans the entire world. Sometimes, he can even hear voices from the cities.”
The young Tiffins started through the field, singing. Charlotte’s head stuck out above the others. She was perched on Edgar’s shoulders.
“We’d better go, before they leave without us.” The Tiffin boy dashed off. Sonja hurried after them. She reached Edgar and Charlotte, out of breath.
“Did you need me, Charlotte? Are you all right?”
Charlotte looked down at her and smiled lazily. “Of course I am.”
“I flew down with a Tiffin. Can you believe it? You know how I am about heights. I was scared, but I—” Sonja stopped midsentence. She could see Charlotte was not paying attention. She was twirling Edgar’s hair.
They entered a thicket of trees. Blossoms twinkled among the leaves. Sparkling acorns hung from low branches. Glowing pitcher plants and snap-traps grew in clumps around their trunks, their silvery insides luring insects to their death. A red squirrel with tiny black eyes jumped from one tree to the next until it landed on the roof of a small timber hut.
A Tiffin with enormous ears and balding hair all combed to one side was crouched on the roof twiddling his thumbs. Two sets of little purple wings stuck out of the back of a ragged suit, and a string threaded with acorns hung around his neck. “What does Crackus hear?” he said, cupping one of his giant ears. His voice creaked like a door on a rusty hinge. “What does Crackus hear?”
The squirrel scurried up his arm and rested on his shoulder. The young Tiffins giggled. “Crackus hears nine beating hearts,” he announced, scrambling to the ground. His back was crooked, and one shoulder was higher than the other. The squirrel munched on an acorn dangling from his necklace. Bits of shell dusted his shoulders.
Sonja felt a sort of kinship with the Tiffin. She imagined a sideshow was similar to a circus. Everyone who comes to watch you thinks you are different, a freak. Now, back with the Tiffins, Crackus was still considered different, still considered a freak. It was the same for Sonja. She did not fit in the Outskirts, she did not fit in the Seven Edens, and she most certainly did not fit in with her sister’s new life. She would probably
end up by herself in an isolated shack with a squirrel on her shoulder just like Crackus.
“What does Crackus hear?” the hermit said excitedly. “A Changeling, Crackus hears.”
Just at that moment, Wolf Boy burst into the thicket with the Tiffin girl.
Sonja gasped. “He’s right.”
“Name, Changeling?” asked Crackus.
“Wolf Boy, sir.”
Crackus hobbled briskly to a tree and pressed his right ear against its trunk. “What does Crackus hear? Crackus hears Wolf Boy’s name spoken by a girl.” Crackus chuckled. “A Changeling. She prays he will wed her once the leaves change color.”
Wolf Boy turned to the Tiffin girl, blushing. “Don’t worry, I prefer girls with wings.”
“Wait, wait. What does Crackus hear? Another Changeling speaks.” The Tiffin stroked the bark with his fingers. His nails were bitten down to his cuticles. “He says soon Wolf Boy will replace him. He says soon Wolf Boy will make him proud.”
Sonja looked at Wolf Boy. His smile had faded. She knew he was thinking of Staghart. Did the Tiffin really hear his voice?
“Crackus asks your names.” The Tiffin turned an ear toward the twins. Sonja stared, startled.
Edgar lifted Charlotte off his shoulders and placed her on the ground. “Charlotte and Sonja Tatters,” Charlotte said shyly.
“Ah, the daughters of the Key.” The Tiffin put his ear to a higher spot on the trunk. He listened. “What does Crackus hear? Crackus hears a woman restless in her sleep. She whispers ‘Charlotte’ and ‘Sonja’ and swears she will see them again.”
“It’s Tatty!” Sonja exclaimed. Everyone turned to stare. “It’s our mother!”
“Crackus hears another mother,” the hermit continued. “A mother who gave them away. A mother who hopes they will forgive her.”
Sonja stared, silent. Everything went blurry around her. The only thing she could hear was her pounding heart. Was Crackus listening to their real mother?
Edgar stepped forward, grinning. “What about me? Anyone speaking of me? I’m Edgar of the Golden Underground.”
The Tiffin stooped low and pressed his ear against a knot protruding out of the tree. After a moment, he spoke: “What does Crackus hear? Crackus hears a human. Her hands jangle with jewels. Her voice scratches Crackus’ ears.” The Tiffin’s eyes darted nervously from left to right. Sweat trickled off his brow. “Now she shouts! Oh, my. Now she screams!” His earlobes trembled at his chin. The squirrel leapt off his shoulder and disappeared up the trunk.
Sonja glanced at Edgar. He looked scared. Who had Crackus heard?
Edgar yanked the hermit away from the tree. There was a nervous murmur from the crowd.
“Edgar,” Charlotte said hesitantly. “What are you doing?”
“Tell them you’re a liar!” Edgar shook Crackus violently. Crackus covered his face with his hands, scared. “Tell them you’re making this all up!”
Wolf Boy tackled Edgar and tore him away from Crackus. Crackus limped off, whimpering as the boys tumbled onto the grass. “No more,” he sniveled. “No more.” He scrambled into his hut and closed the door behind him.
Edgar squirmed out of Wolf Boy’s hold and jumped to his feet. He wiped his bloody nose.
They stared at each other coldly.
“Sorry, brother. I didn’t like the old man spinning stories.” Edgar stuck out his hand. “Friends?”
Wolf Boy frowned but grabbed his hand. Edgar pulled him up.
“Good!” Edgar hooked arms with Charlotte. “The night awaits us!” They ran off together through the trees.
Wolf Boy nudged Sonja. “Come on.”
Sonja shook her head without taking her eyes off the hermit’s hut. She had to speak to Crackus.
“Don’t complain later that I left you.” Wolf Boy put his arm around the Tiffin girl, and they walked out of the thicket with the other children.
Sonja took a breath and walked over to the little shack. She gently knocked on the door. It creaked open, and Crackus peered out. “Is he gone?” he whispered. There was dirt in the creases of his face. His eyes were big and brown and shiny.
“Edgar? He’s gone.”
“Crackus doesn’t like him.”
“Me neither. He’s taken my sister away from me. Also, he kills boars.”
The hermit laughed excitedly.
“Can I ask you something, Crackus?”
“Please, please.”
“Do you know who my real mother is?”
He shook his head. “Crackus only hears voices.”
Sonja paused. “Did she seem nice?”
“Very nice,” replied Crackus. “Also, very sad.”
Sonja thought for a moment. “The voice that scared you,” she said softly. “The one who spoke Edgar’s name. Any idea who she is?”
He shook his head and shuddered, then stuck his grizzled fingers through the opening. “Sonja Tatters, you are nice.”
“Nobody else seems to think so.” Sonja held on to his hand. It trembled in hers. “I traveled the Outskirts, too, in a circus. I know what it feels like to be different.”
A tear rolled down the hermit’s cheek. “Crackus understands people. They don’t mean to hurt you. They’re just scared. More scared than you or me.” He smiled sadly and quietly pressed the door shut.
Sonja ambled out of the thicket in a daze. She clicked open the locket. It went against her agreement with Charlotte to never open the locket outside, but she did not care. Her sister had abandoned her. She looked at the brown lock of hair curled under the cloudy, scratched glass. Their real mother had left a piece of herself with them all these years. She wanted them to remember her. Sonja kissed the glass and snapped the locket shut. She wished she had something of Tatty’s to kiss, too. She walked through the trees. It made her feel less lonely knowing that, somewhere out there, both of her mothers were thinking of her, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Stargazing
THE SKY WAS BLACK, AND EVEN THE VERY FAINTEST STARS were visible. Charlotte’s head rested on Edgar’s chest. They lay in a meadow among the other sky-gazing couples. Charlotte had only ever seen one or two stars in the Outskirts before, and her eyes were lost in the dark depths of the cosmos.
“It’s like sitting on the turrets of Jagged Rock,” mused Edgar, “with all those sparkling diamonds above you.” He paused. “I’ll show you sometime.”
Charlotte turned to look at him. “Will you really?”
“Sure. When we’re married.”
“Aren’t we . . . a little young to get married?”
“All Longwalkers marry young. Hold on a second.” Edgar jumped up and scrambled about the glittering meadow. Charlotte watched him eagerly. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She wished this night would never end. It was the first time she had been alone with a boy—or anyone, for that matter. The questioning, frightened, second-guessing voice of her sister was absent.
Edgar returned hiding something behind his back. “Guess what I’ve got.”
Charlotte thought for a moment. “A star,” she said, enchanted.
“A whole constellation!” exclaimed Edgar. He pulled out a wreath of glittering flowers and placed it on her head. He bowed deeply. “The Queen of the Longwalkers.”
Charlotte’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Edgar slumped on the ground, disappointed. “I thought you’d like it.”
“Don’t you see?” She threw her arms around him. “I like it too much!” Edgar smelled like everything good: candy and buttered popcorn, cake and ice cream, jam—even pancakes! Charlotte looked into his eyes. “I think I love you,” she whispered.
“Sorry to bust in on you like this.” It was Wolf Boy. He motioned to Sonja fidgeting beside him. “She forced me to come looking for you. I was in the middle of serenading a beautiful Tiffin girl.”
Sonja frowned. “Everyone was worried.”
“About me? But I’m with Edgar.”
“Exactly!” Sonja burst out.
Wolf Boy covered a laugh with his hand.
Edgar helped Charlotte up. “I hope you’re not too angry, Sonja. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your sister’s time.”
Sonja glared at him. “What I want to know is, who was that woman Crackus heard?”
Edgar lowered his head and said quietly, “It was my mother right before she died. He was hearing an echo from the past.”
Sonja blinked, speechless.
Charlotte grimaced. “Apologize!”
Sonja glanced back and forth between Edgar and Charlotte. Finally, she looked away and muttered stubbornly, “I won’t.”
A shadow fluttered up ahead through the dark sky. Dottie hovered above them.
“The old man says: time’s up!” she squawked. “For all of you!”
“Hold on!” Wolf Boy yelled after her. “I’ve got a girl waiting for me!”
“If you haven’t forgotten, we’ve got an important day tomorrow. More important than a date!” Dottie circled over them and then flew out of the field.
Edgar put his arm around Wolf Boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. There’ll be others.” They walked ahead, leaving the twins alone.
“That was awful!” Charlotte erupted. “Why didn’t you apologize? Don’t you know I’m in love with Edgar?”
“In love?” snorted Sonja. “With that Longwalker?”
Charlotte’s face grew stony. Why did Sonja have to make things so difficult?
“I don’t trust him.”
“Typical. The minute I like someone, you get jealous. It’s been happening all our lives.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what? From being happy!”
“From getting hurt, Charlotte.”
“The only person who’s hurting me is you! Not Jack Cross. Not Edgar.”