Wind. The air had been so still, but Matt felt it begin to stir, brush against his cheek like a whispered omen.
The ground shifted beneath Matt’s feet and the world began to move again. But not in its usual order. The waves retreated and melded back into the sea. Mrs. Hudson came alive, but instead of continuing in her path toward Captain Vincent she moved backward, robotically. Everyone else did, too, including Matt. Suddenly he was back in the clutches of Vincent, then holding hands with Quine, the light expanding and retreating. The world was moving in reverse.
Things started to change and disappear in an unnatural fashion. It looked like an invisible slingshot was shooting people, one by one, in random directions. First Wiley and Brocco went, both of them soaring back into the Vermillion, and then Albert, his round, pale face shocked and afraid. Next the ship pulled away from the beach and disappeared. Blossom rose from the sand, taking shape like it was being inflated.
Matt rejoined his family. His parents, Corey and Ruby, Chuck, Tui, Annie, and Jia. They were back inside Blossom, who hissed and growled like a cat who’d just had its tail yanked. They traveled backward like a tape in rewind, bouncing through space and time. They were flung back to Nowhere in No Time, to Yellowstone, the geysers sucking back in the lava, then water and billows of white steam. They went back to Chicago, over the fair of the glowing White City, the Ferris wheel, and the huge stadium and tents of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show. It was here that Annie left them. She was sucked out of the window, spinning in the air like a ragdoll, her rifle still clutched beneath her arm.
And Jia.
Matt remembered Quine’s last words to him.
Hold on to Jia.
Matt grabbed Jia’s hand just as that invisible slingshot seemed to pull her back, ready to fling her into the ether. They clasped fingers, and then there was a battle of forces. Jia was being pulled away, sucked toward the window. She started to scream. Matt held tight, ignoring the pain.
“I got you!” said Matt. “I won’t let go.” But he started to feel the pull as well, slowly but surely sucking him toward that vortex of space and time.
“You have to let go, Matt,” said Jia. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
She started to release him.
“No!” Matt shouted, gripping her fingers as tightly as he could, but he began to shake with the effort.
Matt felt someone grab on to him. He looked over. Corey had his left hand, and Ruby was holding on to Corey.
“We got you, Matt!” said Corey. “We won’t let go!”
Mrs. Hudson reached for the twins, Mr. Hudson held on to his wife, and Chuck held tight to his brother. All of them clung to each other, a big, unwieldy family chain.
The universe snapped.
The bus shot back again, over the white and gray landscape of Wrangel Island. Tui was sucked out of Blossom, screaming as she was hurled back into the Ice Age.
The next thing Matt knew they crashed down onto solid earth and were bouncing over rickety fencing and vines, heading toward a house. Not just any house. Gaga’s house!
They were back at the vineyard. Corey was at Blossom’s wheel, struggling to get control. Matt saw something big suddenly fall off the side of the bus and roll in the dirt. It was his dad! And then his mom fell off the back. She landed on her feet and kept running. Blossom rattled and groaned as they moved steadily toward the house, right toward the porch.
“Corey, stop!” shouted Ruby. Corey stomped on the brakes, but too late. Blossom crashed into the porch. Metal crunched as wood cracked and splintered. Matt was flung forward and slammed against the front seat, then tossed back.
Blossom gave a little beep, as if to announce their arrival, and then her engine sputtered and died.
24
The Beginning
Something shifted and groaned beneath Matt, and he realized he had landed on top of Jia.
“Sorry!” said Matt, scrambling to release her, but then felt a tug on his arm. He looked down. Their hands were still linked. He’d gripped her hand so tight his fingers were white and numb. Still he did not let go.
“Nĭ hăo, Mateo,” said Jia, smiling.
Matt smiled back. “Ni hao, Jia.”
The door to the bus slid open, and there were his parents. His mom’s hair was once again a wild dark tangle. His dad looked pale and dazed. His clothing was torn and dusty, his glasses crooked on his face.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Hudson asked. “Is everyone okay? Corey? Ruby?”
“We’re fine,” said Ruby.
Mrs. Hudson pulled Matt out of the car and into a bone-crushing hug. His dad embraced him, too, and then Ruby, and Corey, all of them hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe. He didn’t mind a bit.
“Where’s Charles?” Mr. Hudson asked, looking inside the bus.
“Back here,” said Chuck, lifting up his hand. “Cozy as a kitten.” He pushed open the hatch and rolled out, then yelped. “What the beetle juice!”
They all scrambled to the back of Blossom just in time to see little Pike climb out and hop to the ground.
“Where in the universe did you come from?” said Chuck.
Pike paid Chuck no mind and sauntered over to Jia, taking her hand. “How did you get in there?” Jia asked. Pike just looked up at her, expressionless as usual.
“She must have held on tight and found a way to stay,” said Ruby. “Just like you did.”
The Hudsons all glanced at each other. Corey was the one to say what they were all thinking.
“How can we know that she’s on our side and not spying for Captain Vincent?” Corey asked. “I mean, she kind of sold us out before, didn’t she?”
As if in answer, Pike produced a folded sheet of paper and handed it to Matt. He opened it, and the rest of the family crowded in as he read.
Forgot to tell you that Pike will be staying with you. She’s on your (our) side.
M. Quine
“What does he mean, ‘our’ side?” said Ruby. “Quine gave Vincent the Aeternum, didn’t he? How can he be on our side?”
“Maybe he understands things that we don’t,” said Mrs. Hudson. “Remember, we still don’t know exactly who Quine is. It’s possible he really is on our side, and everything he’s done has been for good reason.” Matt looked up at his mom. She was gazing at him, studying him, and in that moment he knew that she knew. Or at least she suspected.
Quine was Mateo. Mateo was Quine.
But it seemed neither Matt nor his mom wanted to say it out loud. That would open up too many questions, too much doubt and fear. He was not ready to face that yet, and it seemed she wasn’t either. Quine had given Vincent the Aeternum. Matt still was not sure what that meant, who or what he would become in the future. It made his head hurt, thinking about it.
Pike gave one of her rare smiles. Matt folded up the piece of paper, slid it in his pocket with the others—the poem, his adoption papers. “If Quine says she’s on our side, then she is.”
“So we’re back home, huh?” said Chuck, gazing around the vineyard. “Looks like a tornado hit this place.”
It did look like a tornado had swept through. Aside from the damage they’d done to the porch, windows were broken, and a big branch of the willow had fallen down on the roof, crushing one of the chimneys. The vineyard was destroyed completely. Vines had been torn up by the roots and scattered, and Chuck’s little cottage was in splinters. All that remained intact was the toilet.
“Did we do all of this?” Matt asked.
“I don’t think I’m that bad of a driver,” said Corey.
“This isn’t your fault, chéri,” said Mrs. Hudson, her face darkening the more she looked around.
Mr. Hudson stared at the broken windows of the house. “I need to check on Mom,” he said, but before he could take three steps, the front door to the house burst open.
“Oh! You’re okay!” Gaga cried, clutching at her chest as she ran down the porch. “I was so worried. I saw the kids tumbling around insid
e Chuck’s bus, and then you two running after them, and then I couldn’t see you at all. I thought you’d all gotten swept up in the storm and disappeared!” She stopped in front of them, breathing hard and fast, and Matt could see her face was streaked with tears. “Is anyone hurt? Matty, Belamie, kids? Oh, Matty, you look like you got run over by a car!” She assessed Mr. Hudson’s torn and dirty clothes, the bruises now blooming on his face. “And Mateo! Your arm! That looks serious.”
“We’re okay, Mom,” said Mr. Hudson. “Just . . . went for a little ride.”
“I’ll say,” said Gaga. “What a storm! It came out of nowhere, ripped out all my hydrangea bushes and broke half the windows and then . . .” She trailed off as she noticed Jia and Pike. “Oh! Hello. Who are you?”
“Sorry, Gaga,” said Matt, stepping closer to Jia. “These are our friends, Jia and Pike. They came to visit . . . just before the storm hit.”
“How . . . lovely,” said Gaga, looking over Pike’s pillowcase dress decorated with pins, and Jia’s many-pocketed vest bursting with tools and supplies. They weren’t exactly your average kids. “I am sorry we aren’t in better shape to receive guests. Everything is in such disarray. The plumbing is a mess.”
“I can fix it!” said Jia. “I’m very good with plumbing, especially flushing toilets. Do you have any of those?”
Gaga looked startled and perplexed. “Why, yes, we have a few of those.”
“Perfect! I’ll take a look right away.” Jia marched up the porch steps and went inside the house as comfortably as if she lived there. Pike quickly followed.
Gaga took a step toward the house, then paused, like she wasn’t sure what to do. She turned to Matt. “Your friend is very enthusiastic about plumbing.”
“She’s the best,” said Matt, beaming. He was so glad Jia was here.
Gaga gazed toward the ruined vineyard. “Chuck, I’m afraid you’ve got your work cut out for you with this mess.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Mrs. H.,” said Chuck. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you,” said Gaga. “I don’t know what I would have done without you all these years.”
Chuck gave a shrug, but Matt could see his face flush. “Matty here would take care of you just fine, I’m sure.”
Gaga waved her hand and let out a little pfft. “My son has many skills, but yardwork isn’t one of them.”
Mr. Hudson nodded. “Very true.”
“And you’ll stay with us, Chuck, for now?” said Gaga. “Until we can get the cottage rebuilt.”
Chuck seemed startled by this. “Oh . . . that’s okay, Mrs. H. It seems like you have plenty of guests to be dealing with, and you know I can stay comfortably in Blossom.”
Gaga sneered at the bus now stuck halfway into her porch. “In that old hunk of junk? No, I won’t hear of it.”
“He can have our room,” Matt suggested. “The kids can all sleep on cots in the basement.”
“Yeah!” said Corey. “We’ll build a fort.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Gaga. “You’ll stay with us.”
Chuck nodded, scratched the back of his neck. “All right. Thank you.”
“Well, I suppose I’d better go supervise our young plumber.” Gaga went back up the porch and into the house. When the door closed behind her, the rest of them stood there in silence.
“Aren’t you going to tell Gaga who you really are, Uncle Chuck?” Ruby asked.
Chuck seemed to go a little green in the face. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“But we’re going to find Grandpa, aren’t we?” Corey asked. “I mean, we can’t just leave him behind, not when we could save him. So we’ll have to tell Gaga everything.”
Mr. and Mrs. Hudson glanced at each other, communicating something in their silent language. “We’ll discuss it,” said Mrs. Hudson, “but it’s complicated. Now that Vincent has the Aeternum . . . it changes things.”
“But we’re here, aren’t we?” said Ruby. “We were sent back to almost the same time we left, and we’re all together. Maybe the Aeternum didn’t work like Vincent thought it would.”
“It’s possible,” said Mrs. Hudson, though Matt could tell she didn’t really believe this. “Only time will tell.”
Matt swallowed the fear that continued to rise in his throat. He wondered if that was part of Vincent’s game. Let them stay together for now. Let the fear rise in them, at what might happen. It was working.
“I’d better go check out the vineyard,” said Chuck, pointing to the wreck of vines and fences. “If there’s anything to be salvaged it needs to get back in the ground as soon as possible.”
“Want some help?” said Mr. Hudson.
“No, no,” said Chuck. “You stick with your wife and kids. I got this.”
Chuck walked away, and Mr. Hudson looked after his long-lost brother. It had to be weird, Matt thought. He marveled at how time travel had affected their family. Grandpa Hudson, Uncle Chuck, and his mom, who had been born nearly three centuries in the past. And he had done all of that. For better or worse, Mateo was responsible. The weight of this truth pressed down on him so that his knees practically buckled. He’d already caused so much damage, but it was also why they were all here together now. He wouldn’t trade that for anything. Now he just needed to make sure they could all stay together.
“Let’s go inside now,” said Mr. Hudson. “I’m sure Gaga could use some help.”
They all started to file into the house, but something caught Matt’s eye before he went in. A square of white on the willow tree by the pond. He went over and found a piece of paper pierced to the tree with a dagger. He recognized the dagger. It was Captain Vincent’s. The very one he had just held against Matt’s throat.
Matt tore off the piece of paper from the tree. The fear rose up in him again, nearly choked him, as he read the words printed on the page in black ink.
This is only the beginning.
Acknowledgments
The journey continues! I could never have written this book without the help and support of so many smart, kind, and talented people. Many thanks to my agent, Claire Anderson-Wheeler, who always has my back and calls the calm to my storm. Huge thanks to my incredible editors, Mabel Hsu, Melissa Miller, and Alex Arnold. Your enthusiasm, creativity, and smarts have inspired and challenged me, and this book is better for it. Huge thanks to copy editor Jenny Moles and proofreader Dan Janeck. Whoa. You guys are boss. I know this book had a lot of mind benders, and you caught so many snags and helped untangle those truly dizzying timelines. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Thanks to Amy Ryan for the fabulous design, and to Katherine Tegan, Kathryn Silsand, Mark Rifkin, Kimberly Stella, Vanessa Nuttry, Robby Imfeld, Samantha Benson, and all the fantastic team at Katherine Tegen Books and HarperCollins for helping this series grow and find its way into the hands of young readers.
Thanks to my writing pals Brianna DuMont, for speed-reading and offering advice and encouragement, and Kate Hannigan and Amy Timberlake, for always lending a listening ear and helping me talk through the rough spots. Thanks to Elli Dastrup and Ahmed El Shamsy for the Arabic translation and to Daisy Jiang, Jianli Huang, and Dianna Larsen for the Chinese translation. It was just one word in each language, but it was an important word and the internet was no help at all. (What?! You’re telling me the internet doesn’t know everything?)
Thanks to Janie George for making me look fancy online, and to Katie Nydegger for keeping me organized and sane. And shout-outs and love to all my girls for the many, many cups of tea and chats of encouragement. Life would be so dull without you.
To my kids Whitney, Ty, Topher, and Freddy—thanks for all the inspiration. (Yes, Ty, you inspired Corey. Thanks, and you’re welcome.)
Finally to my husband, Scott, my champion and true companion—you put up with a lot of crazy while I write these crazy stories, and you do it with grace and good humor. I love you.
About the Author
Photo by Erin Lake
LI
ESL SHURTLIFF is the New York Times bestselling author of Rump: The (Fairly) True Tale of Rumpelstiltskin, other books in the (Fairly) True Tales series, and the Time Castaways trilogy. She was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah, the fifth of eight kids. She now lives with her husband and four kids in Chicago, where she writes full-time.
www.lieslshurtliff.com
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Books by Liesl Shurtliff
The Time Castaways Trilogy
The Mona Lisa Key
The Obsidian Compass
Copyright
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
TIME CASTAWAYS #2: THE OBSIDIAN COMPASS. Copyright © 2019 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art © 2019 by Alexandria Neonakis
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Digital Edition OCTOBER 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-256820-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-256818-2
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