A Grave Tree (34 page)

The fact that Abbey had been the one calling plans “harebrained” just a few months ago was not lost on her. Could they build a raft with their minds? She had no idea. But she definitely wouldn’t be able to if she didn’t believe she could.

She crossed her arms and fixed Sylvain with a glare. “I’m not leaving Jake behind. Can we make a raft or not?”

Sylvain crossed his arms too. “Possibly. But it would be a very major and potentially catastrophic stretch goal.”

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then,” Abbey said. “If you look at the reservoir, you can see that even though the current is pulling the water over the diversion, there’s also another strong current pulling the water toward the building. So if we attach the magnet to the cable and go out into the middle of the river, then once we get close enough, we can throw the magnet at one of the pieces of rebar. It should fly through the air at the rebar with considerable speed because it’s such a strong magnet. We then use the force of its movement to slingshot ourselves
out of
the current going over the diversion and
into
the current going into the building. With the lack of friction on water, it might be doable. If we manage to get into that other current, we might be able to land the raft right near the platform and get into the building unseen.”

“So if I understand you correctly,” Caleb said, “we’re going to let go of the magnet and cable.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know,” Caleb said. “They could be important.”

“So could Jake,” Abbey said.

Mark rose unsteadily to his feet, his face chalky. “I feel sick,” he announced and staggered off into the trees. Abbey wondered if it was the gooey bar thing he’d been eating.

“Look, we need to get
something
happening,” Abbey said. “As far as we know, Sandy could be murdering Ian and Jake as we speak.”

“Or they could be having a tea party,” Sylvain replied.

“It would be a rather grave one, I suspect. Don’t you want to stop her from doing all the things she’s doing to the future? You said yourself that being near a point of power will enhance our abilities. So can’t we at least try to build a raft?”

Caleb raked a hand through his tufty hair. “I don’t know, Ab. Maybe swimming is a better option. Or maybe we could wait until the water drops below the edge of the diversion. Then at least we don’t have the current to deal with. Or we could walk down and get the propeller unit that Mark and I left at the dam, recharge it and use that to swim across, or pull the raft across. It’s a bit of a hike though.”

Sylvain’s reply was cut off by Mark’s blood-curdling scream. He shot out of the trees at a run. A panther padded behind him, its jaw and teeth crimson with fresh blood, the spear protruding from its side bent and hanging.

“He’s not looking altogether friendly,” Caleb said, as everyone, except Sylvain, backed down the silty slope that led to the edge of the reservoir.

“He’s not alone,” Sylvain said, just as a spear flew out of the trees and whistled past him. He swung his head wildly from left to right before stumbling down the bank himself. “There’s at least ten men up there. We’re trapped.”

Abbey grabbed one end of the booster cable from Caleb. It had the same symbol as the magnet. She opened the magnet case. The cable jerked downward toward the magnet, wrenching Abbey’s arm, while the magnet flew out of the box and hit the metal end of the cable with a clang, the symbol on the magnet meeting with the symbol on the cable. Oddly enough, the other ends of the cable, which was still in Caleb’s hands, didn’t seem to be attracted to the magnet at all, and she wondered what they were made of. But there was no time for curiosity. Curiosity was for safe physics labs.

“Sylvain, the raft. We have to build a raft.” She looked over to where he stood frozen, licking his lips on the beach. “Now, Sylvain. Please.”

He looked up, and she gave him her bulgy-eyed look. Then she found her center—belief was coming more easily to her now—and felt her mind knitting together atoms from the air, weaving them tightly to form something that would support their weight. She felt Sylvain helping her, and the raft grew larger and sturdier. What were these molecules of matter that they were pulling from the air?

“If we’re going to do this,” she heard Sylvain murmur, “if we’re going to actually step on board this thing, you’re going to have to believe like you’ve never believed before, and you can’t stop believing.”

The song “Don’t Stop Believin’” started running through Abbey’s head. She clenched her teeth and recentered her mind.

A few seconds later, a raft sat at their feet, a grey, nondescript blob of nothing the size of four air mattresses, which, if you looked at it the right way—or the wrong way—appeared almost transparent. But when Abbey reached down and touched it, the edges felt solid and substantial.

She lifted it off the beach and pushed it partway into the water. With the raft in hand, and all her focus on keeping it real, she felt almost like she was in a dream state. Sylvain bent to hold the floating blob as well.

The panther had followed them down the bank and now stood only about three meters away. It regarded them intently with its pale blue eyes, crouched low as if ready to spring, the blood on its maw glistening.

“Get on the raft,” Sylvain said calmly, but there was an edge to his voice.

Abbey and Caleb scrambled on board, and Abbey struggled to control the bob and weave of the material she had created from her mind. As soon as Sylvain got on board, they’d be pulled away from the beach and caught in the current. That’s if they didn’t sink.

Her brainiac mind-feed slipped into her consciousness. In order for the raft to float, the weight of the four of them, plus the weight of the raft, must not exceed the buoyant force the water would exert on the raft, which would be equal to the weight of the water displaced by the submerged portion of the raft.

She’d concentrated on making the raft large enough not to fit through the rebar posts—but was it big enough to float? She tried to lengthen and widen it, but her strength was fading. Then she felt Sylvain’s response, helping her, pushing more atoms into place, locking them together.

Mark still hopped from one foot to the other on the beach, vacillating between the horror of the raft and the horror of the panther.

Movement on the top of the bank caught Abbey’s eye, and she jerked her head up to see two men—presumably the ones who had thrown the spear at Russell—peering over the edge, their weapons at the ready. Abbey searched frantically but did not see any crossbows.

“Mark!” She spoke with some effort, her tongue thick and furry, the strain of keeping the raft intact wearing on her.

“I told you,” one of the men called over his shoulder. “It’s the beast and the Light. Together. More evidence of black magic. Kill them!”

Mark finally turned and vaulted onto the raft as a group of men charged down the bank, their spears aloft. Sylvain pushed off hard, and the raft skidded out onto the water, lurching and bobbing like a water mattress—just as the black form of the panther sailed through the air and landed on the edge. Before anyone had a chance to react, the current picked them up, and they were swept toward the diversion and hopefully out of range of the spears.

Abbey eyed the panther, her jaw numb with the effort of sustaining the weave of atoms. It would not be good to pass out with a panther on the raft. Caleb had turned as if to fend off the giant cat.

“Caleb, ignore Russell,” Abbey managed to say. “You have to throw the magnet at the rebar, swing us out of the current, and then let go. We have to get into the right current immediately or we won’t be able to.”

The last thing she saw before the edges of the world became a little too fuzzy for her liking was Caleb hurling the magnet at the rebar… and Mark leaping off the edge of the raft.

*****

Mark screamed when he hit the icy water, but he kept a firm hold on the almost amorphous material that made up the raft. He hadn’t wanted to get back in the water so soon after his swim with Caleb, but it was better than sharing a tiny raft with a panther. He was conscious of the magnet flying through the air, of Caleb holding the cable with two hands and leaning. The raft careened toward the jagged-toothed edge of the diversion. The panther occupied all too much of the raft, its pale blue eyes luminous. It was almost beautiful, save for the spray of blood on its jaw. The men on the bank had run down to the water’s edge and were waving their spears.

Mark wasn’t sure his adrenaline or cortisol levels could actually go higher.

Abbey’s eyes flicked open. She seemed to be only semi-conscious. “Mark, no!” she yelled. “You have to get back on the raft. You’ll create too much drag.”

“It’s not working. I can’t get us out of the current,” Caleb called.

“It’s Mark. Get back on the raft, Mark, please,” Abbey urged.

Ignore the panther
. He had to ignore the panther. Mark gritted his teeth and pulled himself aboard, remaining as far away from the creature as possible.

Caleb let go of the cable, and for a second the raft sailed over toward the platform, but then it picked up speed and started flying once again in the direction of the diversion—and the opening.

“What now, Ab?” Caleb’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “Please tell me you have a plan.”

Apparently Mark’s cortisol and adrenaline
could
go higher. If nobody did anything, they’d hit the diversion in about thirty seconds, and if the raft wasn’t wide enough, or it collapsed (since after all, it wasn’t very substantial), they could quite possibly fall over the edge. And it was his fault.

“I’m thinking!” Abbey snapped. “And what, am I the only one who can come up with plans here?”

The men had regrouped and followed them downriver. A single spear landed in the water just short of the raft, as if the men were testing their range (which seemed blessedly short, but not comfortably short, in Mark’s opinion).

“Can you build a wall to stop the spears?” Caleb said.

“We’re a little busy right now. Give us a second,” Sylvain growled, his face ashen. The panther, bedraggled and breathing heavily, had lain down on its side on the raft.

Mark’s head hurt from his own thinking (and from making sure he stayed well away from the panther). How could he fix this? Before, on the beach, Abbey had asked him if he could move things when his head was flying, and Sylvain had suggested that he should be able to. Could he move the raft?

He tried an experimental push of the raft; the edge tipped straight down into the water in some sort of dive. Sylvain yelped in alarm. Panicked, Mark pulled back immediately.

He tried reaching out for the magnet instead. Maybe he could carry it with his head and attach it to the platform railing, and Caleb could reel them in with the cable. Sending his head across the water now seemed easy, but he couldn’t budge the magnet an inch. Maybe it was too strong, or too heavy—or maybe he just had no idea how to move objects with his head.

The raft careened toward his floating head, and he could see the gaping, slack-jawed expression of terror on his own face. Did he really look like that?

The raft hit the rebar with a terrifying thwap, its edges curling up like a leaf on a storm sewer grate, as if with enough force it might fold and slip through the posts. Caleb grasped the rebar and tried to push the raft away from the edge.

Mark jumped back into his own body. “We need to take the magnet off the post and put it back in the box. Then we can go to the other end of the raft, take it out, and throw it to that post,” he announced, pointing at the rebar post three meters away and just out of reach.

Caleb lowered his eyebrows. He looked at the dangling cable, then at the rebar post.

“It might work,” Abbey breathed. “If the magnet is strong enough, you might be able to pull us along the rebar posts with the cable. You’re going to have to throw it pretty hard though or it will just fly back to the closer rebar post, and potentially take your head off.”

“Okay. Assuming I can pull us along the posts, then what?” Caleb said.

Abbey jutted her chin at the intact portion of the dark cement wall. “If you get us past the hole in the diversion, maybe we can get up onto the wall.”

Caleb nodded. “All right, Mark, let’s try together.”

Mark cautiously moved over to where Caleb stood on the edge of the raft. Two more spears fell just short of them, and the panther had started to pant. Mark felt exposed on all sides.

They pulled at the magnet, but it was no use. The small silver cube was stuck firmly to the rebar. “Try adding a push of energy, or whatever it is you do that moves things,” Caleb ordered.

“You’re going to need to hurry,” Abbey said, sounding faint and desperate.

Mark scowled at Caleb. Where had those big pushes of energy come from before? Had they even come from him? He didn’t know. He looked at the long cable that Caleb had pulled out of the water and coiled on the raft. He gestured at Caleb’s chest, where they’d stuck the end of the cable before. Caleb’s eyes widened, but he nodded.

Mark knew he should be volunteering for this job himself—he was stronger. But the cable creeped him out.

Caleb closed his eyes for a second, then pressed the end against his heart. Mark could almost see the energy crackle down the cable.

With the added boost, he and Caleb peeled the magnet off the rebar post and put it in the case. They couldn’t close the case because of the cable, but it still seemed to have enough of a damping effect on the magnet that Caleb could go to the edge of the raft, remove the case, and throw the magnet at the next post. Mark ducked, thinking the magnet might come flying back at him, but it sailed through the air and landed on the next piece of rebar. Using the cable (and what seemed to Mark like extra superhuman strength), Caleb managed to pull the raft three meters forward, to the next piece of rebar.

“Okay, next one, Mark,” Caleb said. He looked a bit pale, almost green actually, his skin only a few shades lighter than his eyes.

Working together, they moved the raft, rebar post by rebar post, fifteen meters or so along the diversion. When they at last managed to pull the raft to the edge of the opening, they were able to tuck it in against the solid wall of the diversion about twenty meters from the platform.