Part 13 (2/2)
”What are querents?” Abbey wished Caleb would take over, but he seemed stunned into some sort of silence.
Sandy c.o.c.ked her head at them. ”The witches that use the stones, of course. We called them querents in my day. Or seekers. What do you call them now?”
Abbey pulled her eyebrows together. ”We aren't witches. We just found the stones.”
Sandy elevated her eyebrows. ”Well, you must have some witch blood in you, or the stones wouldn't have worked. You probably wouldn't have even seen them. This is a warning to whoever came through the stones first. Don't try to change the future on this side of the stones, or you'll be trapped here like the rest of us fools.” The woman seemed to be examining Simon very closely.
Mark had started to rock more vigorously, and when the word trapped came out of Sandy's mouth, he dropped into a crouch with a moan, pulling at his ears with his hands.
The woman squinted at him. ”I a.s.sume it was him, then. You should talk to your guardian.”
”You mean our parents? He's not our brother,” Simon said.
”You don't know much about the stones, do you?” asked Sandy. ”You need to learn fast, or you're going to get yourselves into serious trouble. Every set of stones has three caretakers-a Guardian, a Scholar, and an Energy. The Energy can't go very far away from the stones or they won't work, so the Energy usually lives near the stones. The Energy knows who the Guardian is. It's the Guardian's job to protect the stones and to explain the rules to new querents so they don't get hurt. I suggest you find him before it's too late.”
Mark was breathing rapidly in and out through his nose in some sort of quasi-hyperventilation move. Caleb still stood slack-jawed, staring at the woman. ”What is this place?” he managed to stutter.
Sandy pursed her lips and darted another glance over her shoulder. ”Here is pretty much nothing. It's like time purgatory. Other than breathing and talking to each other, there's nothing to do. Time doesn't pa.s.s. We don't age. We don't eat or sleep. It is like we've become nothing as well. If the air weren't oxygen, I'm not sure if we'd even have to breathe. You'd better go.”
”I agree,” said Simon.
Mark had tucked his head down into his chest while he hugged his knees, and seemed to be almost having a seizure.
”We're going now, Mark. Can you get up and walk?”
Mark didn't respond.
Simon looked skyward as he clenched his jaw. He leaned down and spoke in Mark's ear. ”We have to go. Caleb and I are each going to take one of your arms and carry you.” Together Caleb and Simon managed to haul Mark the few meters back to the stones, and then disappeared with the bulky man flailing between them.
Abbey looked at Sandy. The other women by the fire, seeing the departure of Simon, Caleb and Mark, had started approaching at an alarming pace. ”Can't you just follow me back?”
The woman shook her head. ”No. The stones no longer work for us. You've got to go now.”
”What if you took my hand?” For some reason she wanted to help this woman.
”Go. They're coming. They've figured out you're not one of us, and they think you can get us out of here. But you probably can't. If you want to help me, go home and find the Energy and the Guardian and tell them you have to smoke on the docks. Hurry.” Smoke on the docks? What was the woman talking about? The woman gave her a push and Abbey jumped onto the stones. Abbey felt the usual lurch and heard the woman call after her, ”You can only change the future from the present, unless-” Abbey found herself back in the leafy green of the forest behind their house again. Mark was sitting in the dirt, his face in his hands. Caleb and Simon both stood with their hands on their waists, hunched over.
”The guy's a brick,” said Caleb.
”That was totally freaky,” said Simon when he'd recovered his breath. ”Do you think any of that Guardian, Energy, witch blood stuff is true?”
Caleb returned to an upright position. ”Well, Great-Aunt Marge was pretty out there, and we were just in the weirdest green foggy place ever.”
Abbey pursed her lips. Trust Caleb to make a joke out of it.
He gave a weak smile, and looked at least marginally pale. ”You have to admit, none of this makes any sort of rational sense, especially that last place. Let's go way out on a limb and a.s.sume it's true. The woman said the Energy has to live near the stones. What if Mrs. Forrester is the Energy? She clearly knew about the stones and she lives right here.”
”But Mrs. Forrester is in the hospital,” replied Abbey. ”Why are the stones still working?”
”They weren't, remember?” Caleb said. ”They weren't working until you guys came back with Mark. What if Mark is the Energy? Maybe that's why Mantis wants him.”
Abbey put her hands on her hips. All of the pieces of the last few days whirled about in her head. She felt like she might explode. Her scientific mind wanted to explain this, wanted to put it in a box-a neatly labeled box of rational explanations. Parallel universes, relativity, time travel, something. Definitely not witchcraft. Definitely not feelings. But at that moment, she couldn't find a rational box in which to stuff any of it. Occam's razor: The correct answer is the simplest. Right now the simplest answer might be witchcraft. She sank to the ground next to Mark. Find the Guardian, the woman had said. Abbey sighed. ”Okay, this is absolutely crazy, but let's say Mark is the Energy. How do we find the Guardian?”
Simon sat on a large, gray rock next to Mark. ”I'm willing to bet he or she is one of the three people that Mrs. Forrester used to be friends with,” Simon said. ”It would sure suck if Mantis is the Guardian. Because he hasn't seemed like he's been trying to guide us, except right into danger. What about Mrs. Forrester's drawings? What about that one with the doctor?”
Abbey yanked the piece of paper from her pocket. ”I don't know. It seems to say phone Doctor Bed Truck.”
”Well, let's go look Bed up in the phone book,” said Caleb, turning to head down the hill.
Simon stood and hooked his arm under Mark's elbow. ”Or we could go to Mark's and see if Mrs. Forrester has any pictures of her friends.”
Abbey shook her head. ”I don't think we should go to the Forresters', or home. Not until Mom and Dad get home. Mantis could be down there. We should head out on the other path, go to the school, and check out the phone books there; we wanted to check out the Greenhill crowd anyway.”
The four of them trooped down the hill, taking the path that led to the cul-de-sac adjacent to theirs. The warmth of the mid-afternoon sun grazed their faces as they exited the woods. The wind had picked up, sending the rain clouds from earlier in the day into a huddled black ma.s.s over Circle Plateau. Mark made no move to leave them, and apart from the occasional moan and hand clenching, lapsed into silence as he loped next to Simon. Simon, who struggled to make conversation at the best of times, had plastered a benign look on his face and every so often smiled and nodded at Mark as they trudged along. Abbey had to suppress a giggle at the pairing, despite the circ.u.mstances.
”What was up with you when we were talking to Sandy? You seemed totally strung out,” Abbey said to Caleb as they marched toward the school.
”I've seen her somewhere before. I was trying to figure out where.”
”How is that possible?”
Caleb's jaw jutted out with a stubborn tilt. ”I dunno. I just know I've seen her before.”
”She probably just looks like someone you know. Weren't you scared with Mantis?”
”No. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me at all. He was really friendly.”
Abbey sniffed. ”I don't like the idea of a friendly insect, especially a predatory one. And don't forget, we think he drugged Mrs. Forrester.”
They could hear the cheering from the stadium as they approached the school. Two yellow Greenhill buses perched in the parking lot, their long rear ends hanging precariously past their back wheels. The game had clearly started.
”Where do you suppose we could find a phone book in this place?” Simon asked, pulling open the side door to the school. ”Does anybody even use phone books anymore?”
”That's easy,” said Caleb brightly. ”The office.”
”But...” Abbey started. Caleb had already run ahead to the office window and was making his request to the receptionist, Ms. Gallagher.
Ms. Gallagher, normally a friendly sort-at least where they were concerned-looked Caleb up and down over her burgundy gla.s.ses, then glanced over his shoulder at Abbey and Simon, and lingeringly at Mark. ”Yes, I have a phone book, but weren't the three of you away today?”
Caleb didn't drop his beseeching smile. ”Yes, we were. We were at the hospital. Our aunt had a stroke last night. We're trying to track down a friend of hers. She needs to talk to him.”
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