Canes of Divergence (13 page)

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Authors: Breeana Puttroff

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Teen & Young Adult, #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: Canes of Divergence
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~ 13 ~
The River

 

Bristlecone, Colorado

 

W
HEN ZANDER SAW
where Owen was leading him, he knew for sure that he was losing his mind.

Outside of Doctor Rose’s house, Zander had headed for the truck, but when they reached it, Owen had pulled out the large duffel bag, and motioned for Zander to follow him.

“Leave the truck here; it’s better this way.”

“How far are we planning on going like this?”

“I can carry the backpack.” Owen turned and tried to lift the heavy frame over his tiny shoulders.

“How about you carry the
cooler?” Zander picked up the backpack and put it on his own shoulders, clipping the belt around his waist before he reached for the duffel bag.

“Okay,” Owen agreed, though even the cooler was going to get heavy for him after a while.

“We’re not going to be crossing any state lines like this, right?”

“Not exactly.”

“Owen, this is starting to feel like a really bad idea. Where are you taking me?”

“Just follow me.”

Zander sighed as Owen took off down the sidewalk. He supposed they’d already gone this far – already broken into Doctor Rose’s house and taken all of this stuff. Although he was starting to worry that all of this was some strange fantasy on Owen’s part, he figured he might as well humor him for a little while longer. No more than fifteen minutes, though. They wouldn’t be able to carry this stuff for more than half an hour, round trip.

Less than five minutes later, though
, they emerged from one of the hiking trails in a spot that made Zander’s head spin – because it was so familiar. He’d been here just a couple of days ago.

There was the tree with the muddy
, dug-up hole underneath it. Zander stopped and watched in shock as Owen headed right for it. And all of a sudden his weird theories about bodies came bouncing back.

It wasn’t just his head spinning now – the entire ground felt wobbly underneath him.

“Come on, Zander. I need that bag.”

Terrifying thoughts raced through Zander’s mind as Owen unzipped the bag, put his hand inside, and withdrew…
a rock
? That’s what had been making the bag so unusually heavy and lopsided? Owen was kneeling on the ground, perched over the hole, holding a huge, jagged chunk of shiny dark gray rock.

“What are you doing, Owen?”
He was calming a little – he’d already investigated that hole, after all, and it was much too small for a body.

Owen looked up at him, a very serious expression in his eyes. “I suppose I should tell you now that I’m not one hundred percent sure this will work.”

“You’re not sure
what
will work?”

“Putting this back. I had to break it a little to get it out of here, and I don’t know if I damaged it enough to make it not work.”

“And what will happen if it doesn’t ‘work’?”

“We’ll have to go and put all of this stuff back and go home.”

Zander sighed in relief, finally seeing a light at the end of what had been turning into a very dark tunnel. Maybe Owen had just needed this – needed Zander to play along, to follow his little story. Now he’d done it, and they could just take this stuff back,
un
-steal it, and go home. Put all of this behind them, and go back to normal.

He still wouldn’t have any real answers about Quinn, but at that moment, it seemed like something he could work on letting go.

He was actually relaxed as he let Owen carry out the rest of whatever he was doing. He picked up the duffel bag and zipped it up – it was much lighter without that rock. He’d be able to carry it
and
the cooler back the few minutes to Doctor Rose’s house. Holding on to them both, he followed Owen.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Hopefully they’d at least make it back to his truck before it got dark.

“Okay,” Owen said. “Let’s try it.”

“After you.”

Owen walked away from the tree and over to the river, stopping right next to the broken-off bridge. Zander watched as he knelt down, picked up a rock – a smaller one, fortunately, than the one he’d put in the ground – and lobbed it into the air.

This gesture, at least, felt normal
. Throwing rocks into the river was something Zander liked to do when he was upset or frustrated, too. He waited for the satisfying splash of the rock landing in the water.

Hmmm…
He must have missed it. Maybe the rock hadn’t been big enough to be noticeable in the current? That didn’t seem quite right.

Zander walked closer as Owen picked up another rock – this one was definitely big enough to see – and he threw it.

It didn’t land.

Owen turned around
, grinning now.

What in the…

Owen grabbed the duffel bag and another rock and scrambled up the steps of the broken bridge. Zander had no idea what he was doing.

Once he was on the little platform at the top of the stairs, Owen stopped, looking over the water. Then, very deliberately, he tossed the rock forward. Again, there was no resulting splash in the water below.

It wasn’t until Owen had the duffel bag all the way in front of him that Zander realized what it was about to do.

“Owen, don’t do…” But he already had. He’d tossed the duffel bag forward.

But the bag didn’t fall into the water, either. It was just…gone.

“Give me the cooler,” Owen said, reaching his hand back.

“Owen, there’s probably hundreds of dollars of drugs in here…”

“Thousands,” Owen answered. “Maybe more.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to let you throw them into a river.”

“I wasn’t going to throw the cooler. There’s glass in there. I was going to carry it. But if you want to, that’s fine.”

“I’ll hang onto it.”

Owen shrugged, and, before Zander could stop him, the little boy st
epped forward, off the platform over the river.

Zander panicked.
He didn’t know what to do. He looked around frantically, but Owen wasn’t anywhere. No little boy fell from the bridge or into the water. Like the duffel bag, Owen was
gone.

After s
everal seconds of worrying his heart was literally going to explode, he heard Owen’s voice. “Come
on
, Zander. We don’t have much time. Follow me.”

He looked up at the top of the bridge and saw Owen’s
head.
Just his head, no body underneath it.

And then it disappeared.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Zander dashed up the stairs and reached for the spot where he’d seen Owen. One second, he was staring out over the rushing water below the bridge, and an instant later, his feet were on solid ground, and Owen was standing there, several feet ahead of him.

“Come on,” Owen cajoled, taking a few more steps backwards.

Zander was too stunned to do anything but follow. Somehow, the bridge was no longer broken. The stone continued in a smooth arc all the way across the river. It didn’t even look like the same bridge.

Come to think of it – it didn’t look like the same river. The water here wasn’t rushing below them; it flowed lazily in the semi-darkness. It didn’t sound right, either.

He spun around.

Nothing was familiar in that direction, either. The same bridge, whole and complete, stretched
to the other side of the river and then down, into a vast forest of trees that looked nothing like the ones he’d just been looking at.

And the mountains were missing.

He turned back to Owen. The boy was walking now, almost to the bottom of the steps at the end of the bridge.

“Owen! Where are you going?”

“Come on, Zander. It’s getting dark and we still have a long way to walk.”

A long way to walk?
He chased the boy down the steps, onto some kind of dirt path that definitely should not have been there. “Owen, I’m not going anywhere. Where
are
we?”

“Eirentheos.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re in Eirentheos.”

“Well, I don’t know what that means, but I think I’ve reached my limit here, Owen. Let’s go put this stuff back and go home.”

“Come on Zander!” Now Owen took off running and Zander had no choice but to follow him. He ran for several minutes; when he finally slowed to a walk again, Zander could no longer see the bridge.

“Owen Robbins!”

“What?”

“I’m not kidding, Owen. I’ve changed my mind. I want to go home.”

Owen stared at him for several seconds, and then glanced behind him, up toward the sky.
“We can’t go home.”


What do you mean, we can’t go home? This isn’t funny anymore Owen.”

Owen frowned. “Was this funny before?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Of course none of this had ever been funny. It had been scary and strange since the very beginning. But not
this
strange. This was too much. “I’m not kidding. Let’s go.”

He reached for the boy’s hand, intending to drag him back
down the road and up the bridge if he had to, but a sudden noise stopped him.
What was that
? It sounded like…

Horses.

What the…?

He looked behind him in time to see three horses coming down the path
.

Each horse carried a rider – three men who were dressed in clothing he’d never seen before. Two wore green tunics with a gold circle emblazoned on the chest, while the third wore one in purple with a different symbol in silver.

All three of them carried swords. And all of them stopped short, just a few yards in front of Zander and Owen. One of them, the one wearing purple, dismounted.

Zander got the distinct impression
they were some kind of soldiers.

Without hesitating, he
scooped Owen into his arms, though his hands were already slippery with sweat. His heart pounded as the man approached.

“Sorry to bother you,” the man said. The words were kind, but Zander could hear a suspicious undertone in his voice. “We just thought we’d stop and see if the two of you needed any assistance.”

The hidden question in his words was clear. “
What are you doing here?”

Zander’s arms tightened defensively around Owen. “We’re all right. Thanks.”

But at that moment, Owen, who had been straining to look around and see what was happening, wriggled loose, dropped to the ground, and ran – not in the direction Zander so desperately wanted him to, but
toward
the horses.

“Owen!” Zander yelled.

“Ben!” Owen shouted.

The man who had been questioning Zander suddenly turned
his attention to the little boy and followed him.

Zander was
sure he was having a heart attack as he took off after Owen again. As soon as Owen got close to the other men, one of them climbed down and approached him, bending down so he could get a better look at him.

“Prince
Owen?” Zander heard the man ask incredulously as he reached them.

“Yes, Ben. It’s me. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” the man said, chuckling as he straightened. Zander could see now that he barely qualified as a man – he couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than Zander was.

The third man had now dismounted his horse. “It’s really you, Owen?”

“Yes. Hello Marcus.”

“Hello.” Marcus smiled. He was quite a bit older t
han the one Owen had called Ben – though they kind of looked alike. “I don’t know how you got here, but I know Her Majesty will be well pleased to see you.”


Is she the queen now?”


Indeed.”

“Is she here
, then? In Eirentheos? Is that why you and Ben have new uniforms?”

Zander still had no idea what was going on, or what they were talking about, but he gathered that he’d been right – these were soldiers. Possibly from two different armies. It was not a comforting thought.

“Yes, she is, and yes, that’s why.”

“Who’s your friend?” Ben asked. “Did he come here with you?” Being looked at with suspicion by three soldiers was not going on Zander’s list of experiences he wanted to repeat. He squared his shoulders and met the man’s gaze.

“Yes. This is Zander.”

“Does he know?” Ben asked, dropping his voice. “About the…” he tilted his head
down the road to the place they’d just come from.

“Not really,” Owen answered. “I just made him follow me. I couldn’t carry all of this stuff by myself.”

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