Haunted things. I never gave them much thought. Not because I had any strong beliefs either way, but because my life was filled with enough haunted places; I didn’t need more to consider. But Kenton’s story stuck with me — it seemed to weigh on us all — and we wandered slowly toward our truck, parked in the drive.
With a Camry next to it.
“I thought you said it was deserted.” I squinted toward the windows of the house. There were no signs of life.
“The car wasn’t there,” Izzy said. “You think . . . I mean, it sort of sounded like Kenton knew what he was talking about. What kind of car would a deranged shoe salesman drive?”
“Definitely a late-model silver Camry.” I slapped her arm. “But it doesn’t matter. We aren’t here to stay.”
It was a quick load. The plane was intact, and our packs joined it in the back. The three of us squeezed in the front, with Elias in the middle, his star map open on his lap.
Izzy again took the wheel. “So, you two still up for east?”
“Stay in Salem,” Elias said.
I punched in the word. “Salem. Salem, New York.” I leaned over the dash and peered up. Orion shone bright above us. “Still on Orion’s path.” I chuckled. And froze.
From outside the truck, a scream. A child’s scream. From inside the house, candlelight.
“Go. Go!” I shouted, and Izzy revved the engine and threw the U-Haul in reverse. Tires gnawed at gravel, and a cloud of dust surrounded us as we hurdled backward. She executed a tight turn in the road, and we accelerated.
“We will return to Minnesota by a different route.” My heart pounded.
“I should have helped the girl.” Elias sighed. “Whoever it was.”
“And if it wasn’t a who?” Izzy asked.
Elias slumped down. “Then I would have nothing to worry about.”
I gently squeezed his shoulder. “Not everyone can be helped by a picture.”
He silently reached back and handed me a new sketchbook. “Page one.”
I slowly flipped open the cover, and my stomach sank.
It was the third.
Twice before, I had received sketches, dark and foreboding. Following the touch of Elias while in the tower, I had almost forgotten to be selfish. Now with the appearance of my next sketching, my other motive resurfaced.
The picture was the most grotesque of the three. Indeed, it was almost pure emotion, the subject recognizable only by its eyes. Horrified eyes affixed to a child’s body. He knew. Now, there was no doubt. First the storm. Then a figure slipping to the ground. Finally, the horror in my eyes as I stared down. Elias hadn’t been there. Just like the voices in the tunnel; they hadn’t been there either. Not really.
But somehow Elias saw what he could not. He knew too much.
“Does that sketching help?” Elias asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Salem, Ohio, reminded me of many things. How much I missed the real Elias. How strangely fond I felt toward my dad. But perhaps most of all, the tunnels, and Kenyon’s story, reminded me that the past never stays hidden. The closet never remains shut. The truth always leaks out.
And that alone filled me with more fear than I’d felt in years.
Elias alone saw my Great Undoing, London’s secret until now. He knew I was running. He had to. Why I ran, why I came, why, just why. Yes, it filled his sketches of me. But maybe he didn’t know it all. If not, and I told him, could he ever trust me? Would Dad have begged me to return if he knew?
I glanced at Elias, who stared back at me.
I would tell him all I knew. The next time the Elias from the tower returned, I would tell him.
Though it might spell our Great Undoing.
“Get some rest, Clarita.” Elias nestled stiffly into me. “We’ll need to sleep while we can and find a place to hide during the light.”
“I got this,” Izzy said. “I know just the place, and we can spend the day.”
I stared out the window, whispering to nobody in particular, I’m so sorry.
Do you know how many late-model silver Camrys are on the American road?
It turns out that there are quite a few, and as we chugged through the night, I spotted several.
At the Shell station.
At the rest stop.
But I experienced them as shadows, fading in and out of dreams, dreams that filled with Elias and London in equal measure. Yet Mum I did not see, and I awoke wondering if I would ever see her face again, or if she had died to my dreams as well.
“Well, we’re here.” Izzy stretched. “Niagara Falls. So much traffic in and out, it’s a very public place to hide. Does that suit you, Elias?”
He craned his neck to see out my passenger window. “I’ve heard of this place. Let’s check it out.”
We eased out of the truck and wandered along the rapids, a river growing wilder and wilder until it vanished, plunging into mist and foam. I knew people had risked the drop. Elias plunked a quarter into the observation telescope, and Izzy walked along the shoddy rail. She kept glancing over the edge, I knew, to find a way down.
“You’ll die.”
“Maybe,” she answered quietly.
I squeezed her forearm. “And that doesn’t cause you to think twice?”
Izzy exhaled. “Because he’s looking for home just like me.”
“What? Who is?”
“You once asked me what I wanted to do with Elias. He’s looking for home, just like me. He makes me believe I just might be able to have one again someday.”
I gently rapped the rail. “His home is in Minnesota.”
“If you believe that, you’re clueless.”
It was silent a long time. “See that mist? That’s me.” She swept back her hair and caught my gaze. “For years, that’s been me. There’s no reason for where I’ve been. None for where I’m going. I go east because you go east. But sooner or later —”
“You’ll go home.”
“Home?” she asked. “To whom? That’s why I’m running. What do you think I did to my parents?”
I frowned. “It was fierce?”
“It was fierce. And it was final.”
I thought of her gun barrel in my face. “I’m going to ask. Anything to do with your guitar case?”
She scratched her head. “Dad played guitar. Mom heard him, and she fell in love on the spot. The two of them were special. Most girls would say I couldn’t ask for better parents.” She peeked down again.
“Then why did you, you know . . .”
Izzy smiled. “The day I was born, my dad hung a Harvard pennant on my basinet in the newborn nursery, and he gave me the middle name Ivy. By the time I was sixteen, I had met Harvard’s president five times, and taken more than a dozen trips to campus. It’s why I know the road we’re traveling so well. My dad became their largest donor, in exchange for a small guarantee. My acceptance.”
“At least he was involved in your —”
“I hate Harvard,” Izzy said. “Does anything about me say Harvard to you? Alaska. Now there’s a place. There’s adventure. Harvard? All so I can meet some wealthy Harvard monkey who cares more about his political correctness than he does about me? Harvard? It wasn’t about me, London. He wanted me to marry Harvard. Some dream.
“You, though, you have purpose, a twisted, half-real one, but a shared one, you know? You and Elias — who would have thought? You’ll probably end up together . . . Have a real odd kid with a messed-up accent. But life’ll be good.” She faced me. “Least your dad’s life doesn’t define yours.”
I closed my eyes. “Izzy, I want to tell you —”
“Back to the truck.” Elias gestured toward the car park.
I walked beside Izzy, the Great Undoing weighing heavy on my mind. She had no roots. Telling her would be like talking to the wind. It might be safe.
Izzy took my arm, and I pushed down the urge to pull away, as I had so many times before. “That story about Orion.” I frowned. “That business about danger in the first Salem and a Hephaestus bloke with the forge waiting in the next . . . Is that real?”
She scoffed. “Is any of this real? We’re following the plans of a mentally ill guy who thinks he’s on a crusade for a deceased queen. We’re looking for some Lightkeeper and following a star map to get there. It’s as least real as that.”
I quickened my step to reach Elias, but felt Izzy’s hand on my shoulder. “But that’s okay. I don’t mind living in somebody’s hallucination as long as it feels real. You better love him. You better love him as much as you love yourself, ’cause I’ll go to the end, whatever that means, for that.” She pulled me near. “But if you don’t. If you’re just playing . . . If you’re just doing this to humour him or to add pages to your little diary, then I’m gone.”
I glanced up at Elias.
“Do you love that idiot? Either one of him. Don’t matter to me.”
Love. A word for fools. “I need him. He’s my everything right now.”
“Liar. You’re your own everything. Just like me.”
“I need time to sort it out,” I hissed.
“Well, jolly good and cheerio.” Izzy slapped me on the shoulder, and shook her head.
Love.
I love part of Elias.
I love things about Elias.
I love half of Elias.
I love Elias.
I tried them all, terrified of the one that fit.