Alight The Peril (20 page)

I leaned down and groped around in the sand until my fingers closed over a small, cool stone. I turned it until I found its pointiest edge, and began carving a C on the table. I snickered at my own immaturity—I just had to see whether the C I carved in this realm would show up in the other one.

“Defacing public property, Pyxis?” Zane’s voice lilted with amusement. I dropped the stone.

I tried to laugh it off. I flapped my hand back and forth. “Oh, you know, a girl’s gotta have some kind of outlet.”

He slid onto the bench across from me, crossed his arms, and leaned forward. His eyes softened from amused to concerned. “How’s your brother?”

A happy little ping zipped through me at Zane’s concern over Bradley. But maybe he was just asking because my brother’s sickness was an indicator of the security of our convergence. “I might have made some progress today. I gave him a tincture my great-aunt and I prepared. It seemed like it did something, so maybe we’re on the right track.”

“Excellent news.” He looked down at the table, where I’d taken up the stone and continued to dig into the curved line of my initial. He scraped his thumbnail back and forth across the peeling paint a few times. “And . . . how are you?”

I met his gaze, but the directness in his eyes was so disarming I ducked my head and focused on my vandalism-slash-artwork instead. I grimaced and shrugged. “Got a lot on my plate.” I laughed at how ridiculous that sounded.

Zane chuckled, too, and held out his hand, palm up. For a split second, I thought he wanted to hold my hand, but then he pointed at the stone.

“May I?” he asked.

I reached out, the stone caged in my fingers, and let it drop onto his palm. Just as I pulled away, he closed his fingers and brushed the length of my thumb. A hot tingle bolted up my arm.

He began scraping at the peeling paint using a flat edge of the stone. “So, you called this little meeting. What can I do for you, Pyxis?”

I straightened and folded my hands on the table. “I have an idea, maybe a way to contain the false Pyxis. But I need to know if it’s possible to teach the rest of my union how to consciously come here, like I can.”

“Sure, that’s possible.”

“Good. That’s the only way we have any chance,” I said. “So you know it’s almost the summer solstice here, and that’s another key to my idea. Here’s what I want to do.” I explained my plan, and watched Zane’s face. His eyebrows raised in encouragement while I talked, and I began to hope I might have a chance of taking Harriet down once and for all.

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “Very smart,” he said when I’d finished. “I think it might work.”

Some tension dissolved from my shoulders, and I realized how much I’d needed his approval. Relieved and suddenly feeling a bit bold, I leaned forward, folded my hands in front of me on the table, and eyed him.

“Zane,” I said, liking the way his name rolled from the tip of my tongue. “I get the impression there’s something you’ve been meaning to say to me.”

“That so?” He gave me a wry smile, and starlight flashed off his eyebrow piercing. “Can’t get anything by you, can I?”

I snorted a laugh, thinking of the ease with which he’d bumped Mason’s link and taken over in my mind. I was pretty sure
I
was the one who couldn’t get anything by
him
. I didn’t respond, though. I wasn’t about to let him banter his way out of this.

He swallowed and looked down at his hands, then up at me. His lips parted, but a moment passed before he spoke.

“Everyone in a union may at times have the gift of foresight,” he said finally. He paused and licked his dry lips. I thought of the vision of my brother lying in a hospital bed and nodded once, a small dip of my chin. “It happens that foresight is particularly strong in me. I see many things before they happen.” My breath came faster as I listened to him speak in the accent that was at once so exotic and so comforting. “Sometimes the visions are just flashes of inconsequential scenes. Other times they’re more detailed and . . . important. But one thing is true of all of them. They’re always spot on.”

“You had a vision of me,” I said. “That’s the real reason you came looking for me.”

“Yes.” His answer came so softly, for a moment I wondered if I’d really heard it or if my ears had conjured it from the silence.

“What did you see?” When he didn’t respond right away, my pulse kicked up. Did Zane foresee Harriet defeating me? My failure to protect Tapestry? My untimely death. . . ?

He must have read the growing fear on my face. His hands slid across the table to squeeze both of mine. “It’s nothing like that, Corinne.”

I couldn’t remember if he’d ever called me by my name. It was always “Pyxis” or “girl.”

“Then what?” I breathed.

“It has to do with me, too,” he said, and watched my face for a second. “Us. My vision is of us . . . together.”

The word “together” hung in the air between us, laced with so much significance. My thoughts flew in two directions at once. Part of me suddenly longed for the familiarity of Mason’s steady presence, the assurance that he’d always be there with me, for me. Another part of me raced down a path of what-ifs. What would it be like to be with Zane?

I pulled back a little, and he withdrew his hands from mine. “That’s kind of crazy, don’t you think?” I said. “I mean, for one, we live halfway around the world from each other. I’m with Mason. And I’m only sixteen. Who knows what path my life will take?”

He shrugged one shoulder, undeterred in his conviction. “I
do
know. I’ve seen it.”

“But . . . ” I blinked rapidly. “When? How?”

“Maybe it’s best if we don’t get into this now.” The warmth in his eyes faded, and he looked off to the side.

“No!” My voice strained and cracked, and I pressed my hands onto the roughness of the peeling paint. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then put me off.”

He raised his hands, palms up, both a retreat and an apology. “Sorry. My visions don’t place appointments on a calendar for me. I can’t give you an exact date.”

I slumped over and rested my forehead on my arms. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. But it was true; I knew it was. Something deep down had turned, clicked into place the moment I first saw Zane. Something inevitable set into motion. A new energy now surged through me, as though my body now vibrated at a different frequency than before. I knew there was no going back. But I wasn’t ready for whatever it was. I wasn’t ready to face that part of my destiny because, if I ended up with Zane, it meant something horrible and monumental would have to happen to make it so. Because to be together, we’d have to be in the same place. And I was the Tapestry Pyxis, and he was the Perth Shield. How would it be possible? And what about Mason?

“Why did you even tell me?” My voice was muffled against my sweatshirt.

“Because, Pyxis. You asked. Don’t ask a question if you’re not prepared to hear the answer.”

I raised my head, straining to hear his last couple of words, and found the bench across from me empty.

Zane was gone.

* * *

At school the next day, I noticed more empty seats than usual in my classes. During morning break, Angeline recited a list of students she knew had fallen ill in the past few days.

My chest tightened a little more with each name. When she couldn’t think of any more, I shook my head. “This is not good.”

“But you helped Toby and Brad and Gen and Hannah, right?” she said, her eyes bright and hopeful.

“I don’t know for sure. I mean, they’re obviously not cured or anything. I’m going to call Brad tonight and see if he’s feeling any better, but I really need to be able to scan him, and I can’t get back to Danton until this weekend.”

Her hopeful expression dissolved into a frown. “Not to make things worse, but I don’t think it’s only high school students. Like, six kids in my mom’s class were out on Friday. She happened to mention it at dinner because that’s definitely not normal. I forgot about it until just now.”

I pulled my palms down the sides of my face and stared at the floor. Ang’s mom taught second grade. I’d hoped that the sickness hitting high school kids would be limited to those who were somehow connected to me, Ang, Mason, or Sophie.

“Well, I guess I’d better go by Aunt Dorothy’s and get more of that tincture. Do you think the sick little kids are still home, or at the clinic?”

The thought of seven-year-olds in the grip of the sickness Harriet was spilling across Tapestry made me want to punch a wall, but I couldn’t afford to get emotional. It was all I could do to stand next to the locker I shared with my best friend and appear as though I was just another high school sophomore anxious for summer break to begin. The truth was, I felt like I was in a footrace against panic, and my legs were starting to give out.

“I don’t know. When I get home I’ll see what my mom says and text you,” Ang said.

“This is getting out of control. I’m surprised the CDC doesn’t have helicopters hovering over Tapestry.” I looked at Ang. “Seriously, at what point do you think people are going to start noticing there’s something strange going on here?”

“Good question. Maybe Harriet is somehow influencing them so they don’t wonder.”

The rest of the day, I battled to stay calm. But whenever I allowed my thoughts to wander from the sick kids in Tapestry and my vulnerable pyramidal union, I remembered Zane’s confession, which sent my stomach roiling all over again. Should I tell Mason about Zane’s vision, or spare him the stress of that little bomb?

Was Zane the reason my relationship with Mason never hit the groove we both expected? As if love wasn’t complicated enough. I hadn’t told Ang about Zane’s confession, either, but I resolved to do it soon. She wouldn’t like it. She’d always had this conviction that Mason and I were the ultimate Meant-to-Be Couple, but if I didn’t talk to someone soon, my brain would grind itself up and run right out my ears.

|| 23 ||

AUNT DOROTHY AND I collected more botanical material from the meadow and started two large soup pots heating on the stove. She still had some of the first batch of tincture in a jar, and she emptied it into four glass dropper bottles for me. The tincture bottles reminded me of the shelves of herbal medicines at Harriet’s shop. I shivered. I put the bottles into my bag and sat down at the kitchen table, my chin propped on my hand. My great-aunt sorted flowers, stems, and leaves on the counter.

“Aunt Dorothy, did Harriet kill Grandma Doris?”

“Goodness, what brought that on?” she said without looking up.

“We just never talked about it,” I said. “And, frankly, I think I need to know what happened to her and to you, if it’s connected to Harriet or the convergence or any of this.”

She turned and propped one hand on the counter, leaning against it. Her eyes downcast, she looked thoughtful. After a few moments, she drew a breath and began to speak. “The day that your grandmother was killed, we were unprepared. Evelyn had already passed, so there was only so much the three of us could do. There was a breach of the convergence, and yes, I suspect Harriet acted as the key.”

“So she’s not the one who hurt you?” I asked.

“No . . . no.” My great-aunt paused, her mouth working. “It was a man. Someone who’s been here before.”

Chills spilled over my neck and down my back. I pulled my hands into my sleeves and glanced out the window over the sink, remembering fog and the shadow man who had stalked me here in a dream. Back before I knew what any of it meant.

“You know of the nineteen-fifteen tragedies?” she continued.

I nodded. “The McClintock murders and a bunch of other horrible stuff happened that year.”

“Yes. That was shortly after the convergence emerged here. The first Tapestry pyramidal union formed in response, but . . . ” she trailed off. “Your great-grandmother was the Pyxis in that first union. It was many months before they brought the convergence under control. The man who murdered the McClintocks and caused the other tragedies came here through the breach.”

My heart pounded an uneasy tempo. “Is . . . is he here? Like Harriet?” I asked.

“He doesn’t live in this world the same way you and I—and Harriet—do,” she said. I let out a small breath. But Aunt Dorothy’s next words erased any relief. “He’s a slippery one, traveling between the worlds and hiding out. Last year, he returned to Tapestry. He killed Doris, nearly killed me, and injured Harold.”

“That’s why Mr. Sykes had knee replacement surgery.” I slouched, trying to picture three frail old people fending off an evil force from another world. Considering how poorly our drill had gone when Sophie didn’t show up, I couldn’t imagine how the three of them could do anything against the man without one of their Guardians.

“That’s right, my dear.” Aunt Dorothy shook her head. “We managed to defend Tapestry, but, obviously, at great cost.”

“What does the man look like? What’s his name?”

“We believe his appearance changes. Except for his eyes, which you would see once and never, ever forget. He may have a name, but we do not know it. We call him Quicksilver, for the pale gray color of his eyes,” Aunt Dorothy said. She turned back to the botanical material spread on the counter and pushed it into neat piles. Then she joined me at the table.

“He’s coming back, isn’t he?” I asked.

“Yes, I believe so.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her and met my gaze. “And this time, he has a helper on this side.”

“Harriet.”

She nodded. “We have some time, though. He will not breach the convergence until it is at its weakest point, at the winter solstice. I imagine that until then, Harriet will try to make things as difficult as possible. And with the summer solstice, her power will increase parallel to yours.”

“Ugh. Great.” The summer solstice was only days away. I knew Harriet was down for the count for a little while, after she’d kidnapped Sophie, but if the solstice would fuel her abilities, it was only a matter of time before she was back in action. “I think I’ve figured out a way to trap Harriet. I haven’t told the others yet, but I think it will work.” I explained the plan.