Chase Tinker & The House of Magic (35 page)

"I know. I know," murmured Benjamin, looking
awfully sick himself. "When she was here visiting, I wanted so
badly to tell her…"

"Not bad enough or you would've!"

"You have no idea how it's been eating me up
inside."

"Eating
you
up!" Chase snarled. He
started to run his hands through his hair, but stopped as soon as
he realized what he was doing. "What about Andy and me? You have no
idea what we went through when we found out you were missing. We
waited and waited for you to come home, and when you finally
do..."

"I'm sorry," said Ben.

"You weren't there," continued Chase, his
voice shaking, "seeing Mom's face when day after day you didn't
come home. We were so worried, and confused, wondering what the
heck happened to you. And I needed to talk to you so much—"

"Let me explain," pleaded Benjamin, holding
up his hands as if to stop the words flowing from Chase.

"Explain what?" cried Janie. "Do you expect
us to believe anything you have to say?"

Persephone spoke up, her voice trembling.
"It—it would be good to hear what he wants to tell us, wouldn't
it?"

"Why? So he can lie even more!" snapped
Janie.

"No!" squeaked Persephone. "I mean, he might
have had his reasons. A lot of stories have two sides, don't they?
I think we should hear his."

"I don't want to hear anything he has to
say!" yelled Janie. She crossed her arms and stared across the
room, her chin in the air.

"I do," piped in Andy. All heads whipped in
his direction. He was sitting forward in his chair, staring at
Benjamin. "I want to hear what he has to say," he said, his voice
sounding small and meek.

"What do you know, Andy?" snarled Janie.
"You're just a kid!"

"Calm down, Janie," said Persephone, looking
at Chase for support. "There's no need to attack Andy."

"But this is insane!" Janie looked as though
she wanted to yank out all her hair and then do the same to
everyone else.

"They're right, Janie. We should probably at
least hear what he has to say," said Chase, his voice ice-cold as
his eyes raked over his father. "We have the right to know why he's
been deceiving us this whole time."

"Thank you, Chase," said Benjamin.

"Don't think I'm even close to forgiving
you!"

"I don't deny that your anger is justified,"
said Ben quietly, "but you need to hear the whole story."

"Why have you shown yourself now?" said
Janie. "Why not continue the charade?"

"It's because of your grandfather."

"What about Grandfather?" asked Chase
quickly.

"He died—"

"Mr. Hiram's dead!" cried Persephone. "That
can't be."

"No! Not now. He's fine," said Ben, waving
his hands at them. "Dan saved him. I can feel it. In the time he
was—gone…his magical powers tried to transfer to the next Keeper of
the House. I was fighting it because—well, because I don't want
them. And focusing on that made me lose my grip on my
shape-shifting ability."

Chase collapsed into a chair, wondering if he
might faint or puke, or maybe both. He now understood what he had
seen in the medical room. Grandfather had been dead for a moment,
but Doctor Dan had brought him back to life.

"So where is she?" screamed Janie. "Where's
my mom? She went to save you. Why are you here and not her?"

These were the same questions Chase and Andy
had been asking about their dad since the day Clair arrived, sick
and alone.

Benjamin slumped forward, arms resting on his
legs, hands dangling between his knees. "She's dead," he
whispered.

It took a few seconds for the words to sink
in.

"No," murmured Janie, putting a hand to her
head and sinking into the closest chair. "No. I would have known. I
would have felt it! How—how did it happen?"

They all stared
wide-eyed at Ben. "We escaped from the building they were holding
us in," he began cautiously, looking relieved when no one
interrupted. "I felt weak, yet determined to get out of there."

"R
eady?" I
asked.

Clair squeezed my hand. "I always am," she
said.

We ran across this wide open field. It seemed
to take forever to reach the cover of the trees.

"Almost there!" I panted.

We jumped into the bushes just as this short,
yet lethal arrow slammed into the tree next to us and sent
splinters flying. My heart felt like it was pounding out of my
chest.

Several more arrows came tearing toward us.
One of them went straight through the upper part of Clair's arm.
She fell to the ground.

"Clair!" I exclaimed. "Oh my God!"

I could tell she was in a lot of pain as I
helped her up, but she just clamped her hand over the wound. "Don't
worry, Ben," she gasped. "I—I'll be okay. We need to go! Now!"

She grabbed my hand with her free one and
pulled me along behind her. Knowing she was right about getting
away from there, I didn't protest. As we zigzagged our way through
the thick forest, I kept hoping she knew where she was going,
because I sure didn't. Besides that, it was so dark, we could
barely see anything in front of us.

I knew she was trying to get to Blackshire,
the fishing village that was close by. Clair had heard the Marlowes
talking about it when they thought she was unconscious. It was a
lucky break for us that she was familiar with the town. She and
Zane had spent some time there visiting his parents one summer when
they were in college. When we reached the town, we hoped to find a
car to drive ourselves to London.

"I just thought of something," I said as I
stumbled on a tree root, pressing my hand to the stitch in my side.
"What if something happens and we get separated? We need to have a
plan on where to meet."

"That's not going to happen," she said.

"Yeah, but if we do," I insisted. "Let's meet
in front of Big Ben in London."

Clair smiled. "Did you pick it because it's
the one place your pea brain can remember?" she teased.

"Hey! It's a great place, with a great
name."

After that, to conserve our strength, we
didn't say much else. We just bumbled our way through the darkness.
There weren't any sounds of pursuit, but I knew the Marlowes and
their thugs were out there somewhere. By the time we made it to the
edge of the woods, the wind was blowing hard and it had started to
rain. Not too far off, we heard ocean waves beating against the
shore. Clair's arm was bleeding worse than ever.

"We need to get your arm wrapped," I said as
we moved into the open and across the now rocky ground.

"It'll have to wait! We don't have time."

The sound of the pounding surf was getting
louder. We were moving along the edge of a cliff. I glanced
carefully over the side, hoping to see some lights from the
village. I only saw large shadows of jagged rocks far below, and
the white foam from the waves crashing against them.

The rain poured down in sheets and the rocks
were getting slipperier by the second. We were soaked to the
skin.

"Is this the right way?" I yelled over the
howling wind and driving rain.

"I'm pretty sure it is!" Clair answered. Her
wet hair whipped across her face, which looked much too pale in the
darkness. I knew she was growing weaker from her loss of blood.

"Shouldn't we move away from the edge?" I
shouted.

"There's a path that leads down to the
village! It's along here somewhere!" she shouted back. "It's
shorter than going around to the road."

I'm not sure what happened next, she tripped
on a rock or—something. And before I had a chance to do anything to
stop it, it was like a giant hand picked her up, as if she were a
mere feather, and tossed her over the cliff.

I screamed her name. Dropping to the ground,
I peered over the edge, scared of what I might, or might not, see.
She was there, clinging with one hand to a branch sticking from the
side of the cliff. She swung in the wind above the churning water
far below.

"Ben! Help me!" she screamed.

"Take my hand!" I yelled, more frightened
than I'd ever been in my whole life. "You've got to take my hand,
Clair!"

"I'm trying! My arm hurts too much. I can't
move it."

I stretched as far as possible without
tumbling over the edge myself, and was able to clasp her wrist. I
didn't have the strength to pull her up. "Help me! I need help!" I
whispered as I felt my hand slipping. "Use your power! Can you
stick your foot into the rock to help me lift you?"

"I'll try."

I saw her foot melt into the cliff side. I
yanked on her arm, except it wasn't enough. "Use your other foot
too and push yourself up!"

"I'm trying, but it's not working! Ben…I
can't hold on," she cried weakly. "I have a room at—at The Dover.
616. And my kids. Please! Keep them safe—"

Then she was gone.

I sobbed into the ground. I had a hard time
believing what had happened. After everything she'd gone through to
save me, to have it end like that…it should've been me.

I don't know how long I lay there in the
pouring rain. I didn't want to move, but I eventually forced myself
to get up. I knew I had to get to London. And back to America.

I wasn't sure of the way, so I headed in the
direction we'd been going, and found the path Clair had been
searching for. It led me down to the beach and then into the town.
I had to dash into an old building to hide from several men who
were already searching the quiet streets for us. With a quick
thought, I disguised myself as an old fisherman. I glanced around
the damp, dark building. Luckily, sitting in the corner was a small
black car with the key in the ignition.

I don't remember much about the drive to
London, mostly how long and tiring it was. I ditched the car a
little outside the city and found my way to Big Ben. I don't know
why. After several days of sitting in the rain, I had to admit to
myself that it was futile. She wasn't going to show. I went to
Clair's hotel and transformed into her. I wanted to pick up the key
without any questions being asked.

Unfortunately, the Marlowes knew about the
hotel room too. I barely escaped with Clair's passport, a few pound
notes, and my life. I had to get out of the country, but those
horrid people were everywhere, watching every means of travel. I
was finally able to stow away on a freighter heading for America,
praying I wasn't being followed.

The ride was long,
terrible and uncomfortable, and after a while, I became sick and
feverish. I lost all track of place, and time, and who I was. The
last thing I remember was waking up at the house.

"A
fter I arrived,
your grandfather realized something was wrong. Another—another room
had appeared in the house, you see." Ben's voice cracked and
stumbled over the last words.

"The locked room! It has Clair's power!"
exclaimed Chase. "He told us that room had a dangerous power he
didn't want us messing with. All this time he was protecting you!
And Grandfather never wanted to go look for you because he knew you
were right here with us. Man, I can't believe we were so
blind!"

"I'm sorry we had to tell so many lies," said
Benjamin.

"Why couldn't you tell us the truth?" asked
Andy.

"I just wanted to protect everyone." Benjamin
rubbed his forehead. "I thought if I remained Clair there would be
less chance of the Marlowes tracking me down. What they wanted most
was the next Keeper of the House. I didn't dare take the risk of
being caught again. And I didn't plan to hurt anyone. Janie had
Clair and you boys were holding on to hope that I was still alive.
Plus, I was here close by if you or Chase needed me. I thought it
was the right thing to do."

The room was silent. Tears dribbled down
Persephone's face, while Janie's and Andy's looked pinched and
pale. Chase stared at the wall-clock and watched the seconds tick
by. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Aunt Clair was gone. Forever. And even
though he now knew he hadn't really known her, he would still miss
her. He rubbed his stinging eyes.

Janie stumbled to her feet, muttering to
herself. "I...I need to go…I can't...
Thomas's Room!
" she
cried, and disappeared.

Chase jumped up, planning to go after her,
but Doctor Dan came into the room. "Doctor!" he exclaimed. "How's
Grandfather? Will he be okay?"

"Yes, he's out of the worst of it," said Dan.
"At the moment he's resting peacefully. I've given him medication
and…"

Chase slumped back into his chair, tuning out
the doctor's medical jargon as relief sped through him. Grandfather
was going to be fine.

"…keep him for observation for the next few
days." Doctor Dan glanced around the room, his eyes alighting on
Benjamin. "Who are you? And where's Clair?"

"Um…" said Chase, startled. He'd forgotten
that Aunt Clair and the doctor were friends. He wasn't looking
forward to more explanations.
But it has to be done,
he
thought before saying aloud, "Clair is mine and Andy's dad,
Benjamin."

"I don't understand," said Doctor Dan,
looking bewildered.

"Remember all that Tinker magic stuff?"

Dan nodded.

"My dad is a type of shape-shifter. He can
change his appearance and look like other people. And for the last
couple months, he's been lying to us and pretending to be Clair!"
He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice as he said the last few
words. Although his dad had explained why he'd lied to them, it
would take Chase a long time to forgive him.

"Pretending to be Clair?" murmured the
doctor. "But…"

"The real Clair is—dead," muttered Chase. He
really hated saying that word.

"Dead? What…?"

Then, right there in front of everyone,
Benjamin changed. Like water flowing across rocks, his body rippled
as the gaunt, pasty man disappeared and seconds later became a much
healthier, rosy-cheeked Clair.