Stained (20 page)

Julia stopped to gather her bearings when she reached the first candle. Then she noticed something on the wall that sent a shiver up her spine.

Heart hammering, Julia leaned toward the picture.

It was crude, and seemed to be carved into the wall rather than drawn. The lines were shaky and the characters were basic stick forms that reminded Julia of caveman drawings. They looked like people, each atop a starburst. They seemed to be in motion, spinning around a great globe. The moon? The Earth or sun or some distant planet?

Julia studied the picture but couldn't make any sense of it. She was reluctant to leave the only clue she had found, but she discovered another at the next candle, this one on the left side of the wall. They were still caveman drawings, but there were more characters, and they seemed to be aligned differently. Where before six had circled the sphere together, now five hovered on one side and one on the other.

There was a third picture and it was neater. The figures were still crude, but the angles and lines were straighter and the circles more smooth. And it appeared to have been drawn instead of carved.

It showed the lone figure spinning around the sphere while the other five watched from above.

The fourth showed even more improvement aesthetically: the limbs were two lines instead of one, closed off at each end with rough digits. And the torsos were human-like, curved instead of boxed.

By the ninth picture, Julia was tying to make sense of hieroglyphics, or what looked like them. The starburst person was upon the earth, working, producing two children, who had produced children of their own. They all had the starburst drawn on their heads.

At the twelfth picture, the drawings stopped sketching the story and started painting it. Pictures of men and women that would put Julia's drawing skills to shame circled an image of the starburst. Rows of tiny shapes filled the bottom of the "canvas," and it took Julia only a second to realize she must have been viewing an ancient script.

She was ecstatic, even if she had no chance of deciphering its meaning. She plucked the candle out of the air and held it close to the image.

Zigzags, half-triangles, swirls, and series of lines. Letters that looked like backwards "E"s and horseshoes. But it didn't matter. Because English would be up soon, and that meant she could figure out whatever it was she was supposed to figure out and get the hell out of dodge.

She was about to leave that picture when she noticed something strange about the starburst. It appeared to glow. Julia held out the candle, illuminating glistening gold ink. She ran a finger across the picture, and, as if it were just drawn, the image smeared down the wall. Then the candle flared and Julia fell on her butt.

"Ow."

She had a creepy feeling that she wasn't alone. She glanced left. All she could see were candles. She glanced right. And screamed.

Julia crab-crawled away from the man that had appeared before her. He was old, with a white beard and weather-battered face. And he wasn't very solid; his body seemed to shift and shrink and stretch and bend, and although he was obviously speaking there was no sound.

Julia watched him lecture her about something. He went through several rounds, gesturing wildly and staring at her like a disappointed father, before a gust surprised them both. The mystery man broke into a thousand fragments, and Julia rolled several feet. The candlestick clattered away. She waited, breath held, for the light to return.

It did, and the man was still gone. But the candle on the floor lit, and the carpet blazed like kindling. Julia gasped as it spread around her and to the walls. As the blaze grew, it colored the ink on her hands crimson. Dumbly, Julia sniffed it. Blood.

It began to leak out of the walls, and she screamed for Rosa as she struggled to her feet.

Julia tried to keep her eye on the pictures, and caught flashes of the paintings as they graduated to complex scenes and portraits.

She could see the language change, too, and when she saw the first English-looking lettes she ached to stop and examine them. But the fire was feeding on the blood like it was oil.

Julia's sides ached and her lungs burned. Her legs felt like rubberbands stretched too far, and the heat against her back was searing. If this kept on much longer...

A door! She saw it, at the end of the hall.

Julia found her second wind and ran harder.

She was close. So close. Almost there. Just a few more--

Julia's head jerked to the left. The last painting in the hall. Of Cayne. He had wings that seemed twice as long as his body. He lay naked against a huge stone, a pile of bloody feathers at his feet. His head was hanging at an odd angle. His arms were bent the wrong way. He was bleeding--badly. And seared into his chest, just like the biker he had killed, was the starburst. The
stain
.

Julia threw herself against the door. She bounced off it, landing on her back facing the painting of Cayne--so detailed, she could see the death on his slack face, see his last labored breath.

The fire roared, and she dove for the door. Cayne's lifeless eyes followed her as she tumbled through it.

Chapter 26

Julia tumbled into a brightly lit room, and the noise snuffed into silence. Feet stopped shuffling. Conversations were cut short. Her face burned with embarrassment as more than a dozen pairs of eyes settled on her.

She was on the train again, in what appeared to be a posh dining room. Huge windows let in dazzling sunlight and splotches of the city. Washington, still. Three crystal chandeliers hung from a curving roof that boasted complex trimmings. The twenty or so tables that lined each side of the space were covered with white tablecloths. The diners were dressed in expensive-looking suits and dresses. Julia felt completely out of place.

An old waiter in a pressed white shirt and black pants cleared his throat. Julia smiled nervously and stood. She dusted herself off, and the cart's occupants went back to their business. Most of them, anyway.

Two were watching her: a boy and a girl about her age. He was a little older. Attractive with short brown hair and brown eyes, he wore a simple gray long-sleeved shirt and slightly darker gray slacks. He stared at her earnestly. The girl was a complete contrast. Her almond-shaped eyes crinkled as she smiled, and her silky black hair flowed like a waterfall over a yellow sundress that showed off her cleavage.

She stood and waved Julia over. The boy grabbed her arm and jerked her back into her seat.

Carefully, nervously, Julia picked her way through the dining hall to where the two sat, at the back.

"Hi."

"Hi."

The girl smiled. "You can sit, you know."

"Oh, right." Julia pulled a chair from the table. She was painfully aware of her smoky clothes. "Sorry for the stink. I just...got out of a fire."

The girl shrugged. "It doesn't bother me."

The boy, Julia noticed, was talking--to himself. His lips moved, but she didn't hear any words. His intense eyes were baring into her shoulder.

"Be glad you can't hear him," the girl said.

"But why can't I?"

"I dunno. Just be glad. He rarely has anything good to say."

"Oh."

The girl laughed. "So it's you."

"Uh...yeah."

"Sorry. We've been looking for you. Well, he has." She jerked a thumb at the guy.

"Why?"

"Because you're like me."

"And what does that mean?"

The girl shrugged. "I'm not important enough to know."

"Is he?"

"Yeah."

Julia sighed. "Well who are you?"

The girl looked puzzled. "You know...I'm not sure." She bit her bottom lip, then her eyes widened and she stood. "I think I'm supposed to show you this, though." Julia was horrified when the girl lifted her dress, revealing lilac panties. The boy didn't seem to notice. Neither did anyone else. "Follow my finger," the girl teased as she pointed to a starburst just above her left hip.

"Oh my God!" The girl dropped her dress, and Julia exclaimed, "You're Stained!"

"If
you
say so."

"But I just saw it."

The girl leaned across the table and tapped Julia's forehead. "Where do you think we are right now?"

"Oh. So there's a chance you're just made up?"

"Yeah, but I don't think so."

Julia felt some of the hope she had lost return. She liked the girl. Then she thought about what the girl had said. "Wait, so y'all have been looking for me?"

"Some of us. Not that I wouldn't if I could, it's just, like I said," she shrugged, "not that important."

"So how come no one found me?"

"Hmmmm. Good question. They're usually pretty efficient at that sort of thing." She tapped her glass of water with a candy-apple-red nail.

Julia's adventure in the fire-filled hallway caught up to her. She was tired, smelly, and in no mood for riddles. "So let's get to the point. What am I doing here?"

"Didn't you choose to be here?"

"Well yeah, but what am I supposed to be doing right now?" She jerked her thumb at the talking boy. "And I still want to know what's up with that."

The girl laughed. "He's kind of cute, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I guess so." She smiled wanly. "Are you two...?"

"No way!" The girl seemed appalled. She glanced at the boy in dismay. Then she smiled again. "What about that Hunter hottie you're traveling with? Things seem to be heating up."

Julia blushed. "How do you even know about him?"

"Oh, I have my ways." The girl laughed. "Anyway, to answer your question..." She pointed behind her, to three doors at the end of the cart. "Choose one."

"How?"

"You could do eeny-meeny-miney-moe."

"You can't give me any clues?" The girl shook her head. Julia took a deep breath. "I guess this is it then?"

The girl smiled as Julia stood. "I look forward to meeting you. I've got a feeling we'll be friends."

Julia wanted to feel the same way, but she reminded herself that a figment of her imagination would, naturally, want to be her friend.

The girl turned back to her silent partner. She said something Julia couldn't hear, and the poor guy finally stopped talking. He looked at Julia mournfully. Julia looked away and walked to the doors.

She touched each. The one on the left felt cold, the one on the right felt hot, and the one in the middle didn't feel any way at all. Definitely the middle.

Julia turned the knob and stepped into what at first appeared to be a dark closet. She saw a dim light directly in front of her and for a moment felt a thrill of panic. Was she back in the hall?

"Ow!"

Nope. Last time she checked, there wasn't a workbench there.

Julia rubbed her right knee as her eyes adjusted. She was in a tool shed. A bizarre one. A saw, a rake, and three hammers shared wall space with several spears, two crossbows, and a collection of swords. A wrench set sat next to a dusty pair of armored gloves (the medieval type) on the bench. Other strange things Julia couldn't name were stacked on the ground, bunching between lawnmowers and weed eaters and shovels.