The Candlestone (11 page)
Bonnie’s throat caught, and she swallowed hard. “And now you’ve found a way?”
He nodded. “Indeed I have.”
The words shot through her brain like machine-gun fire. It was just too much to take in.
My mother’s in a wall safe? That’s impossible!
Yet this lab and all its equipment lay before her, all the futuristic machines that made a
Star Trek
studio look like a toddler’s collection of Lego models. And there was the candlestone, definitely the same gem that sucked the slayer into its grasp like a light-slurping straw. Her father couldn’t possibly have gone through all this trouble just to trick her. “What do I have to do? How will you bring Mama back? How did you transform her in the first place?”
Her father pointed toward a dark corner. “Ashley’s coming back. I’ll have her explain everything else to you. She’ll take you to the girls’ dorm so you can get ready.”
“The girls’ dorm?” Bonnie surveyed the vast chamber. “Are there other girls here?”
“Yes, there are a few others. Ashley will introduce you and answer any questions you have.”
Ashley walked slowly up to them, her head drooping. “Something’s wrong with Daddy.” She lifted her eyes, tension outlined in tight lines on her forehead. “He says he’s fatigued and dizzy. He looked kind of green, so I put him to bed.”
“Probably just a virus.” Bonnie’s father gave her a gentle push toward Ashley. “Why don’t you introduce Bonnie to the girls, and I’ll go check on him.”
Ashley nodded, her brow still furrowed. She smiled at Bonnie, but her lips quivered. “Did he tell you where your mother is?”
“Yes, but it sounds too crazy to be true.”
Ashley guided her toward a door at the opposite side of the chamber. “Crazy is right, but we’ll get it all sorted out for you. For now, let’s get you measured and settled in, and you can meet your dorm mates. They’re quite an unusual crew, but you’re pretty unusual yourself, so prepare for some gawking.”
Chapter 7
With no firefly light to guide him this time, Dr. Conner inched his way through the blackness, his right arm extended as he groped for the inner gate. Finding the iron bars, he ran his fingers across several of them in search of the latch. After fumbling with his keys, he pecked at the metal door with one, missing the keyhole a few times before finally unlocking the deadbolt.
The air felt wetter than usual. A musty odor filled the cavern, and the damp, oily bars slipped in his hands as he pushed the gate to the left. The metal frame squealed through its top and bottom runners, echoing in tiny chaotic squeaks, like a swarm of bats awakened to go on their nightly rounds.
He paused, listening. Unnatural breathing, labored and intimidating, drifted through the darkness. Within seconds, a gruff voice replaced the low rasps.
“Is she here?”
Dr. Conner trembled and cleared his throat, trying not to sound mousy. “Bonnie has come. As you predicted.” He walked through the gate and into a cave, his shoes tapping on the stone floor.
The deep voice spoke again. “And is she going to do it?”
“We’re preparing her.” Dr. Conner stepped farther into the cave and stared into the black void. “But she doesn’t know yet what’s involved. If she’s unwilling, I’ll have to take drastic steps.”
A loud, rumbling sigh filtered through the darkness. “She is willing. She will give you no trouble.”
Dr. Conner edged closer. “What if I told her that she may not survive?”
“I don’t think she would give it a second thought. Apparently you have not yet understood what drives her.”
Dr. Conner squeezed his keys in his fist, feeling them bite into his skin. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before. ‘I don’t know what love is, so I’ll never understand Bonnie.’” He felt a pebble under his shoe and kicked it away, listening to its tumbling clicks die out in the depths of the cave. “Well, it might be very interesting to put her to the test. Self-preservation instincts are stronger than love. That’s why I have my doubts.”
“No!” the voice roared. “That’s why you’re a fool.” The final word bounced off the walls—“fool, fool, fool”—denouncing Dr. Conner like a wraith from a haunting nightmare. The voice paused until the last echo faded, then continued slowly. “Irene’s daughter understands love. Her mother’s life is more important to her than her own, though she has no idea that Irene is no more. Perhaps by watching her, you will learn what motivates your enemies.”
“I didn’t come here to be lectured.” Dr. Conner released his grip on his keys and let them dangle from his finger. “My firefly colony is dead, so you’ll get nothing but candles until summer comes. Remember, you’re still alive because I find you useful, so you should show me a little more respect. You know my real reason for bringing Bonnie here, and it wasn’t to rescue you.”
The voice growled. “Perhaps not, you simplistic fool. But don’t be surprised if your plans fail. Love may turn on you and set all of your captives free.”
Dr. Conner let out a huff, pivoted on his heel, and inched away, his arm extended. His fingers sifted through his keys until they clasped a diode light attached to the ring, and he pushed its button, sending a thin beam toward the exit. Finding the open gate, he followed the light, but it bent and scattered, as if trying to reverse its course. He released the button, killing the beam, and hustled to the exit. With the squealing of metal on metal and a final clank, he slid the gate closed and firmly set the lock.
The purring sound of a propeller filled the plane’s cabin, a whispered lullaby in Billy’s ears, but there was no time to sleep; too many puzzles remained unsolved. He turned in his copilot’s chair to huddle with Walter and Professor Hamilton. The professor, seated behind Billy with Merlin’s diary propped open on his lap, kept a bent finger on one line of text while Walter looked on from the other side of the aisle.
The failing daylight illuminated the text, and they stared at the mysterious words, reading them aloud between bites of cold meat sandwiches and crackers.
“It’s gotta be Bonnie,” Billy said. “She’s looking for her mom, and she’s going to find trouble instead.”
The professor nodded. “Agreed, William. And it appears that the candlestone is involved in the deception. ‘The candlestone conceals a trap where Satan’s minions dwell.’ What do you make of that?”
Billy shook his head and put his foot against the side of his mom’s pilot seat. “Well, if Dad was right, and Devin is inside the candlestone, then he could be Satan’s minion. And remember, Dad said Devin walked in with it around his neck after his knights got blitzed by Excalibur, so maybe there are more bad guys in there.”
The professor raised his index finger. “Therefore, the plural
minions.
”
“Right. But I can’t see how they could hurt Bonnie from in there.”
Billy’s mother grabbed his foot and dropped it to the cabin floor. “Well, we know the candlestone makes you and Bonnie feel weak. I guess it could be used as a weapon.”
Walter lifted a cracker to his mouth. “How could a little crystal hold someone inside? It doesn’t make any sense.”
The professor opened his sandwich and inspected the meat inside. “Walter, there are many realities in life that don’t make sense to our limited understanding; they seem warped, out of line with what we know. As truth is revealed, however, what was once absurd is able to untwist as our minds grasp what we witness. This poem, for example, seems to describe what someone has seen with his own eyes, so we shouldn’t take his witness lightly. But you are right, in one sense; we should not simply accept what seems absurd without corroboration.” He took a bite of his sandwich, waiting to swallow before he continued. “Let’s follow this logically from the beginning, step-by-step. William, do you remember how you described what happened to the slayer after Excalibur transluminated him?”
“Well, Bonnie said there was a flash of sparks, and they swirled around, like water going down a drain.” Billy made a circular motion with his forefinger to illustrate.
The professor tilted his head upward. “Yes, yes, a drain. That is the word you used, and it reminds me of something.” He flipped to the previous page in the book. “Here it is, in the prayer to summon a dragon.”
Shall I use yon candlestone
Absorbing light to steal thy fire
If I shouldst lie beneath its trone
Excalibur builds my funeral pyre
“Apparently,” the professor went on, “the one who wrote this prayer considers the candlestone as a dangerous weapon of last resort. ‘Shall I use it?’ he asks himself. We know the candlestone absorbs light, and we know Excalibur changes a person into light. So, when he says, ‘Excalibur builds my funeral pyre,’ he could mean that he’s risking getting caught in the absorption if the sword is used in combination with the stone.”
Walter swallowed his last bit of cracker and wiped his lips on his sleeve. “I don’t get it, Prof. What do you mean?”
The professor rubbed his chin for a moment and then raised a finger. “Let’s put it this way. Using Excalibur and the candlestone in combination is like battling someone in a space ship and you punch a hole in a wall to create a vacuum. Your enemies are instantly killed, but you manage to put on a space suit just in time. You’re alive but trapped forever to float in space, never able to return home.”
“But you’d run out of air,” Walter said with a sly grin. “You’d die before long.”
“Yes, Walter. I realize that. The illustration does break down, yet the parallels are there.”
“Yeah, Walter,” Billy chided. “Give him a break. He just means that the candlestone could be a safe place if you’re changed into light by Excalibur. Punching a hole is like using Excalibur, and the space suit is like the candlestone.”
“Exactly, William! Look at the poem again. The poet chose an interesting word, ‘trone.’ There are a number of meanings for the word, but the one that sparked my memory of this passage is William’s use of the word, ‘drain.’ A trone is a drain. The poet may be taking literary license, but perhaps he sees light as draining into the candlestone, and Devin at this moment is lying under it. This poem, therefore, is an eyewitness account of an event similar to what Mr. Clefspeare theorized. Devin is literally a victim of a luminescent whirlpool.”
Walter’s eyes sparkled. “Wow! That’s like a nightmare I used to have. When I was little, I dreamed about getting sucked down the bathtub drain.” He brushed cracker crumbs from his hands and leaned back in his seat. “But what’s that got to do with Bonnie?”
Billy’s heart raced like a thoroughbred. He had an idea that seemed too awful to be true, but he had to bounce it off the others to see if it made any sense. He tried to keep his voice calm. “I think I know,” he said softly. He half-closed his eyes and laid his head back on his seat.
Walter tapped Billy on the side of his head with his knuckles. “Then let’s have it, Sherlock. What’s the deal?”
Billy’s mother chimed in. “What is it, Billy?”
“Yes, William. We are all in great anticipation.”
Billy chewed on his lower lip. Why had he spoken up? The others expected an answer, and he felt their eyes boring holes through his skull. He had no choice. “They’re going to send Bonnie into the candlestone to get Devin out.”
Walter reached over and felt Billy’s brow. “No fever.” He closed Billy’s eyes with his fingers, but Billy slapped his arm away. “Billy must be hallucinating if he thinks Bonnie’s going to try to rescue the slayer.”
The professor laughed at Walter’s antics. “You’re correct, Walter. Such an act would be counter to her character, but on the other hand, William’s theory has merit. Remember, Bonnie doesn’t know that her mother is really dead, so we can’t be sure how an unscrupulous man could manipulate her with lies. Perhaps she might be persuaded by deceit to enter the stone, or even by force or threats.”
“Maybe.” Walter chewed another cracker thoughtfully. “But we have Excalibur. How can Bonnie change into light energy without it? And even if she does, how can she bring anyone out of that thing? Won’t she and Devin still be sparks of light if they do come out? I think it would just suck them right back in again.”
“Very perceptive questions, Walter. There are still missing pieces to this puzzle.”
Billy sat up. “But will we be too late? How long till we get there?”
His mother pointed at a folded map and ran her finger along a highlighted route. “We’ll have to stop for fuel, but we’re not carrying any cargo. I think we can make it in about eight more hours, depending on the weather.”
Billy looked at his watch. “What’s the time zone in Missoula?”
She studied the map again. “I think it’s mountain time.”
The professor closed the diary and pulled a gold chain from his pocket. An old-fashioned watch dangled at the end. “Yes, Marilyn. The Pacific zone begins at the western border of Montana.” He flipped open the cover and checked the time. “So our watches are two hours ahead of those in the Treasure State.”
Walter reached for the chain, and the professor let him take the watch. “The Treasure State, Prof?” He rubbed the faded lettering on the front cover, then handed it back.
“Yes, the nickname refers to the importance of mining there, Walter.”
Billy set his watch back two hours. “Then we’ll get there at about midnight, Treasure State time, and we’ll start some digging of our own.”
“Midnight sounds about right,” his mother said. “You and I can take turns napping and flying, and Walter and the professor can try to sleep. Maybe we can find a motel and get a few more hours before Dr. Conner’s office opens in the morning.”
Billy put his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Sounds like a plan. We’ll be his first appointment, if he’s there.”
Billy’s mom pointed to the console where she kept Dr. Conner’s business card. “It’s at the university, but we don’t know if he has office hours or classes in the morning.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” Billy put his hand several inches in front of his mouth and blew gently on his fingers. “I think it’s time I had a heated discussion with him.”
“Hey,” Walter said, his face perking up. “Speaking of heated, think we can get a pepperoni pizza when we stop for gas?” He pointed at Billy with his thumb. “With old lava breath here, we can keep it hot the rest of the way to Montana.”
“Sure. Some hot food would be great. What do you think, Professor?”
“Yes, I enjoy pizza. But could we get one with mushrooms? If I were to eat pepperoni, I don’t think you would enjoy my company in this enclosed cabin.”
Ashley unlocked a door on the far side of the chamber, and Bonnie followed her into a narrow, linoleum-floored hallway, drawing in her wings to keep their outer edges from scraping against the rough plaster walls.
Three equally spaced, wooden doors lined both sides of the long, well-lit corridor. A small cardboard sign hung on each, but Bonnie couldn’t make out what the colorful lettering said. The dull white walls and floor were clean but unadorned with decorations of any kind, and a faint scent of ammonia hung in the air. Bonnie scanned the corridor for the source of the odor and spotted a mop and bucket in a corner at the end.
Ashley locked the door behind her. “I’m going to call the other girls to come and meet you now.” In a singsong voice she shouted, “Come on out! Bonnie’s here!”
Several loud thumps sounded from within the rooms, and two doors flew open on opposite sides of the hall, revealing four running girls of different shapes and sizes. With big smiles and wide eyes, they all stopped about five feet away from Bonnie, staring at her with gaping mouths. The tallest girl, a green-eyed redhead, edged forward, and the others followed, their expressions alternating between fear and delight. The redhead cautiously reached for one of Bonnie’s wings, but when they moved to open more fully, she jerked her hand back.
“It’s okay,” Bonnie said softly. “You can touch it.”
The girl, about twelve years old, smiled and caressed the golden brown wing with her fingers. Her hands were pasty white, matching her pale face and neck, a stark alabaster background for her myriad freckles. The other girls joined her, giggling and whispering oohs and aahs.