Shadows of Sherwood (25 page)

“You're going to fall down the stairs if you're not careful,” Robyn warned him.

But Tucker was too busy writing to answer. In the silence they both heard the door softly slough shut, of its own accord. They looked up at it.

“What is this place?” Robyn asked. Tucker's frantic note-taking indicated a level of understanding that exceeded her own.

“I-I didn't tell you everything I know before,” Tucker admitted, lowering the journal. “Most people don't have time for strange old stories.”

“What else?” Robyn said. “Tell me everything.” Dad had led her to this place. She couldn't imagine the reason, but if
there was any chance that following his clues could lead her home again, she would do anything.

“It's just a legend,” Tucker said. “I mean, I thought so, but then, here we are . . .” He gazed around in awe.

“A legend?” Robyn prompted. “You mean the moon lore?”

“Oh, I have whole books about the moon lore,” he said, waving his hand. “I meant the legend of the Nottingham Cathedral courtyard.” He had a nerdy, excited tone of voice.

Robyn nodded for him to continue.

“This church was built over two hundred years ago,” Tucker said. “It was commissioned by well-to-do businessmen from the Castle District, who had long since turned their back on the old ways. This site used to be a temple of the moon. No one even knows when the original shrine was built; it was just always there.”

Robyn shivered. She could feel the ancient truth of it, standing here.

“The church's commissioners ordered the moon temple razed and built the cathedral on top of it, believing it would end people's devout adherence to the moon lore and draw them into the church. They might even have thought it would end the civil wars, once everyone followed the same system.”

“You can't change what people believe that easily, can you?” Robyn wondered.

“No,” said Tucker. “The civil wars only got worse, and the moon lore followers went underground for decades. The old legends have been surfacing again in recent years, but not like it once was. It's almost become a fad.”

“Like a horoscope that people read for fun but don't really believe in?”

“Exactly,” Tucker said. “But the workers who built the church truly believed in the ancient moon lore,” Tucker said. “So they preserved this most sacred shrine in secret, against the will of the church elders. It's all going in my paper,” he told her. “I never thought I'd actually find it!”

Robyn felt sure it was fascinating . . . to someone. But it didn't answer any of her questions. So many bits and pieces, but none of them made any sense. None of them brought her closer to finding her parents. She suddenly felt exhausted.

“I suppose I'll be going now,” Robyn said, with a last look over her shoulder at the moon shrine. Part of her wanted to stay, but being here hurt her heart.

“I should to get back to work, too,” Tucker said.

They returned to the choir loft. As Robyn walked away, the door clicked shut behind her, as if on a slight breeze.

“I guess it has a mind of its own,” Tucker said jokingly. “Too bad. I was hoping to go back in there to study.” His gaze dipped down to the key around Robyn's neck.

Robyn smiled and covered the pendant with her hand, a silent answer to the question Tucker was too polite to ask outright. The key was meant to stay with her. She knew it as sure as anything.

Something was happening here beyond her understanding. Whatever she had thought about the moon lore—
it's a myth, it's old-fashioned
—she was rethinking it now.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Chazz's Challenge

“Where are you headed?” Tucker asked Robyn as they crossed the choir loft.

Robyn thought about how to answer without saying too much. Tucker continued anyway.

“If you feel like giving me a hand, I've got a lot of stuff to carry down to T.C.,” he said. He led Robyn toward a pile of canvas grocery sacks full of what appeared to be medical supplies. “You should come anyway and talk to Chazz. He knows all about the Crescendo and the moon lore.”

“The Crescendo?” Robyn asked.

Tucker passed her a portion of the bags by their handles. A hesitant look crossed his face. “Oh, I just assumed . . . because of the pendant . . .” He cleared his throat. “We should just go,” he concluded. “Chazz will want to meet you.”

Robyn remembered Chazz well enough. The old guy had kind of given her the creeps. She recalled him leaning back
in the rainbow chaise, with his hands clasped in front of him, staring intensely at her.

Robyn followed Tucker out of the cathedral. The bags weren't too heavy, but there were a lot of them. It seemed the least she could do, considering he had saved her from the MPs and shown her the moon shrine. She had been right about the rectangle symbols on Dad's map. But the questions she had about these places only grew bigger.

T.C. wasn't a far walk from the cathedral. “Whoa,” Robyn said. Last time she was here the parking lot portion of the fairground had been totally empty. Now it was occupied by a trailer, a couple of vans, several red-awning tents, and a big crowd of people. The trailer and vans were painted light gray, with big red plus signs emblazoned on the sides of each.

“What's going on over there?” Robyn asked.

“It's clinic day,” Tucker said. “Volunteer doctors and nurses come down one day each month to take care of people.” They headed toward that end of the lot.

The tents bore labels like Blood Pressure Screening, Foot Care, and Ear-Nose-Throat. A banner on the trailer said “Women's Health.” Tucker nudged his way around the clusters of waiting folk. Two smock-clad women behind a folding table smiled at him. Each held a blood pressure sleeve in one hand and wore a PalmTab on the other.

“Hey, Tucker,” they said. He showed them his bags. “Great. We can use that stuff over by the vans.”

Robyn and Tucker carried the bags there. Two teenage boys sitting in the van's sliding-door opening doled out
sandwich-size plastic bags containing small bandages, gauze pads, headache medicine, and small tubes of ointment. While Tucker handed over the supplies he'd brought, Robyn took one of the pouches the other boys offered. She put it in her backpack. Even in normal life, she could barely go a week without needing a bandage for some reason or another. It was bound to come in handy.

“This is a great idea,” she told Tucker.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “People really need it. Especially now that the clinics are converting to BioNet. Not too many people around here are in the network. And they like it that way.”

Robyn knew about the BioNet. It was like the InstaScan checkout system—a way for doctors, clinics, and hospitals to keep track of patients. But it had never occurred to her what it would be like to not be in the system.

“Great, there's Chazz,” Tucker said, pointing across the lot. Robyn looked in that direction. The older man slouched his way across the lot toward the cardboard city, clutching a paper bag. “Chazz!” Tucker waved. He tapped Robyn's arm. “Come on, I'll introduce you. Chazz!”

Chazz still appeared to be moving in the opposite direction. Tucker called out again, and pretty loud. “Hey, Chazz!” They caught up with him and Tucker tapped his shoulder.

“You again,” Chazz said, pivoting reluctantly. “The one with the questions. I done told you, I said all I got ter say about it.”

Tucker was not deterred. “I want to introduce you to my friend. This is—”

“Robyn. We've met,” Chazz said, giving her a once-over. “You the one I told to get outta Dodge. Still here, eh?”

“I have no reason to run,” Robyn lied. He was making her nervous with that piercing stare.

Chazz's stern demeanor cracked. His hollow laugh echoed off the blacktop. “Every one of us got reason to run, missy. Ain't most of us got the means, is all.”

“Tell him about the key,” Tucker said, nudging Robyn's arm.

“What key?” Chazz's gruff voice sharpened.

“It's nothing,” Robyn said as casually as possible. She didn't trust this old guy, even if Tucker and Laurel considered him something of a friend. The skeptical gaze Chazz pointed at her let Robyn know that he didn't trust her, either.

“Oh, it's really neat,” Tucker started. “To the door I was telling you about—”

“No,” Chazz said, cutting Tucker off. He kept his eyes on Robyn, though. “I don't know what you think you found, but I ain't interested. I got nothing for you.”

“But,” Tucker persisted. “It's something to do with the moon lore.”

Chazz turned away, weaving in between the cardboard walls.

“He's a bit stubborn at times,” Tucker admitted. “I guess you have to catch him in the right mood. He does know all there is to know about the moon lore.”

“Would it hurt him to just tell us?” Robyn grumbled. She felt angry all of a sudden. She hadn't even wanted to talk to
Chazz in the first place, but if he had the answers she was seeking . . .

Robyn tore after him into the cardboard city. She kept her eyes on the ground, since things jutted out into the walkways—narrow edges of blankets and duffels and suitcases and other belongings. In some stretches the pavement was spotless; in others litter like coffee cups and takeout containers rolled about, creating obstacles.

Chazz muttered as he walked. “What do I care? Waste of time, following the moon.” Robyn could hear him but not see him. The path between the boxes wound and wove. She followed the sound of his voice until the path opened up into a clearing. A bare circle of pavement, with a fire pit at its center, ringed in by the walls of the tent city.

Chazz was headed across the clearing. “Nothing good ever came of it. Good way to wreck your life, chasing it.” He poked his fist at the sky, as if to punch something. “You think you're the One? You ain't the One.” He disappeared beyond the far side of the clearing.

“You could just tell me,” Robyn yelled after him. “What do you care, right?”

A small campfire burned low in the rock-ring fire pit. The familiar wood scent nearly brought tears to her eyes. Memories of all the good times around a backyard fire with Mom floated back at her. The taste of roasted marshmallows and hot dogs. She stopped running, not wanting to go forward, or back. She closed her eyes and breathed it in.

When she opened them Chazz stood in front of her. Robyn flinched.

“No.” He spoke in the familiar low, insistent tone that chilled her and made her want to back away. “You find the curtain, you come talk to me. You find the Elements, you come talk to me. Until then, you leave me the hell alone.” He spun around and stalked off.

“I found it,” Robyn said softly.

Chazz froze, with his back to her. “You lie.”

“I found the curtain,” she told him. She could hear Eveline, loud and clear.
If you are to succeed in this journey, you will be required to trust.

Silence. Silence, apart from the soft lap and crackle of the campfire.

Robyn swallowed hard. This would be the moment. Chazz would turn, and he would tell her everything she wanted to know, and more. She was sure of it. She clenched her fists and held her breath. Ready.

The older man breathed a long sigh. He looked up at the late afternoon sky as the sun began its descent behind the trees. When he finally spoke, his voice came more gently than she'd ever heard it. “It doesn't matter, Robyn. You are not the One.” And he wove away between the cardboard walls, leaving her alone with the fire and its scent and its whisper.

Robyn stared into the small patch of flames. Tucker appeared beside her.

“The One?” Robyn said quietly. “What does that mean?”

“In the moon lore,
the One
is the leader of the people,” Tucker answered. It echoed something from Dad's hologram.

The flames licked and snapped. “What's the best way to put out a fire?” Robyn asked.