Enchanted Ivy

by Sarah Beth Durst

  He was as motionless as ... well, as stone.

  Lily squinted up at the gargoyle. Sun wreathed his stone head like a halo. She wondered if the clue was in the book that he held. After all, she'd been sent to the library to find a book--maybe this was the book she was supposed to find. If so, she'd have to climb up there to be able to see it. She nearly laughed out loud at that thought. There was zero chance she was coordinated enough to scurry up the stone. She wasn't a rock climber. Or a squirrel. She'd end up clawing uselessly at the walls while Jake laughed until he collapsed on the sidewalk.

  This is ridiculous, she thought. The ability to impersonate Spider-Man had nothing to do with college aptitude. "Can you lift me up?" she asked Jake.

  "I can't--"

  "--aid me," she finished. "Sorry. I promise I won't get you in trouble." Craning her neck, she looked up at the windows above the arches. She might not be able to climb up to the Literate Ape, but maybe she could climb down.

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  With Jake behind her, Lily walked into the gym. She mentioned the words "prospective student" to the guard and was waved through. Inside, Dillon Gym looked and sounded like every other gym in the world. College guys and girls ran back and forth over basketball courts. Sneakers squeaked, and players grunted and panted. Lily spotted stairs and went up to the second floor with Jake trotting behind her. She noticed several of the female basketball players eyeing him as they passed. Jake didn't appear to notice, which Lily liked.

  Upstairs was a gymnastics room. She poked her head in. It was empty. She crossed over mats and shimmied around a balance beam to get to the windows. In the mirror that covered one wall, she watched Jake follow her. He looked rather confused.

  "What are you doing?" Jake asked as she opened a window.

  "Going to check out that ape," she said.

  "People will see you," he said, "and you could fall." He sounded genuinely concerned, and Lily wanted to pat his hand to reassure him.

  "It's one story up," she said. "I'll be okay. But thanks." She'd climbed out onto the roof many times at home, and that was the third story. Her mother even climbed out with her. They liked to lie on the roof side by side under the stars and invent their own constellations.

  Jake continued to look worried.

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  "You could wait below and catch me if I look like I'm going to splat," she suggested. "It would be a very guardlike thing to do, preventing splattage."

  He smiled, and his face lit in a warm, melt-polar-ice-caps kind of way. "I haven't had any training courses on preventing splattage. You'd be putting your life in my hands."

  She noticed he had really nice hands. Imagining him catching her, she failed to think of a witty response. "Okay," she said.

  "Okay," he said. And then he blushed.

  "Do you have a camera?" she asked.

  Still blushing, he asked, "What?"

  "If anyone looks curious, you can pretend I'm posing for a photo."

  "Got one in my cell phone."

  "Great," she said.

  For a long moment, they stared at each other. Jake cleared his throat. "I'll just ... go down now," he said.

  Lily watched him exit the room. She couldn't believe this Greek god of a boy was talking to her, much less blushing when he talked to her. Don't read anything into it, she told herself. He's just a naturally sweet guy. Below, she saw him emerge under the arches. He waved up at her. Smiling, she waved back.

  She climbed out the window above the ape gargoyle. Dangling her legs down, she stretched her feet until she felt stone with her toes. She lowered her weight down onto it

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  and then knelt on the back of the gargoyle. Once she was lying belly down on the statue's back, she peered over the ape's shoulder at the book.

  The stone pages were blank.

  Her heart sank. She'd been sure that was the answer!

  Below, Jake had his cell phone out and was snapping pictures. She wondered if he thought she was crazy for climbing up here, especially since the book was blank. She usually tried so hard to appear not crazy. None of Mom's hippie clothes. Just jeans, ordinary T-shirts, tiny earrings, and lip gloss. None of Mom's offbeat habits. No knocking on wood or climbing trees at the park with the six-year-olds. No flowers in her hair. No singing off-pitch at high volume in the veggie aisle of the supermarket. No weird aversion to cars or movie theaters or basements. But if Lily's looking crazy at her dream school would keep Mom sane (or at least close to it), then Lily had no choice but to dance naked in the full moonlight, so to speak. "Now what?" she asked herself. "What's my next clue?"

  Underneath her, the stone shuddered. A soft voice said, "I am."

  It wasn't Jake. She looked behind her at the window. No one was there. "Who said that?" she asked. She had the sinking feeling that she wasn't going to like the answer.

  The stone vibrated again, and the voice said, "I am your clue."

  She bent sideways to look underneath the gargoyle for a

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  microphone and speaker. She didn't see anything. "Mr. Ape," Lily said in an even voice, "are you talking?" She wasn't going to let the Old Boys rattle her this time. They'd rigged another gargoyle somehow.

  "Professor Ape, if you please," the gargoyle said in the same soft-as-sand voice. "I have tenure." He chuckled as if he'd made a joke.

  "Nice to meet you, Professor Ape," she said. "So am I talking through a microphone to someone in Vineyard Club, or is this a recording? Are you interactive?"

  The gargoyle sighed. "I would appreciate it if we could dispense with all the 'you're joking' and 'this can't be true' and 'I must be dreaming' nonsense. Can we simply agree that I'm a magical being from a parallel world and pronounce this lesson done?"

  She laughed. At least the voice's owner had a sense of humor.

  He sighed again, and the stone beneath her shifted. She wondered how they achieved that effect. "One of those. Very well. Please proceed with your speech about how I can't be real and how I must be an elaborate ruse involving puppetry and/or robotics. I'll hibernate until you're finished. I must conserve my magic."

  Someone in Vineyard Club liked fantasy novels a little too much. But she could play along. "What do you mean, 'conserve your magic'?"

  His voice brightened. "Ah, you've decided to be sensible!

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  Marvelous! Let's begin then." He adopted a professorial voice as he began to lecture, "First, you must understand that there are two worlds. Parallel worlds, if you will. In many ways, they are nearly identical, but the one primary difference is that your world is inhabited by humans and other related creatures, while my world is inhabited by, for lack of a more precise term, what you would call 'magic creatures.' Are you with me so far?"

  "Parallel worlds," she repeated. "Magic creatures." She tried to sound serious and failed. She wished she'd read more fantasy. Mom had stacks of Tolkien rip-offs tucked into every corner of the apartment, but Lily hadn't read a book like that since The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in fourth grade. She'd lost her taste for it the first time Mom's hallucinations involved an elf. Now she felt as if she were bluffing her way through a test she hadn't studied for. Oh, wait, she thought, I am bluffing my way through a test I haven't studied for.

  "No need to sound so skeptical," he said. "You're talking to a gargoyle."

  Or, more accurately, she was talking to some guy in the basement of Vineyard Club. How gullible did they think she was? Lily glanced down at the sidewalk and wondered if Jake was in on the joke. He was too far away to hear the gargoyle's soft voice. She wondered if he knew about this whole parallel-world story.

  "For the record, we academics do not approve of terms

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  such as 'magic creatures.' It smacks of Tolkien and literary invention."

  "Gargoyles read Tolkien?"

  "I am a literate ape," he said modestly.

  She laughed.

  "Despite many similarities," the gargoyle continued, "the worlds are not compati
ble. There's a particular airborne element that exists only in the nonhuman world. Denizens of that world--my home world--have evolved to be dependent on that element, which we call 'magic' for the sake of convenience. We need a certain amount of magic in our bloodstream to survive, and we need a higher concentration of it in order to fuel our magical abilities."

  "Very interesting," Lily said, trying her best to sound polite. Someone had clearly spent a lot of time crafting this whole scenario.

  "Do you have any questions so far?" he asked.

  Yes, she had a million: What did all of this have to do with college admission? Why had the Old Boys invested so much time in this role-playing game? How had her father been involved? Why had Mom drawn the Chained Dragon gargoyle? Where were Tye and the Feeder? And what breed of idiot thought that releasing an uncontrollable mutant monkey with claws, teeth, and a taste for blood on a crowded campus was a good idea? But she didn't dare ask any of those questions. She had to humor these people until her admission was secured. Lily stuck instead to a relevant

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  question: "If you're from the magic world and need magic to survive, how are you here talking with me right now?"

  "Ah, an excellent question!" He sounded pleased. "There are two ways for my kind to survive in your world. One: With significant training and the correct preparation of rituals, we can transform ourselves into stone. Essentially, we hibernate, slowing our breathing, our heart rate, and the decay of magic in our system. Many of the gargoyles on this campus, such as myself, are magic creatures who have chosen to undergo the elaborate rituals and physical inconveniences in order to remain in this world as ambassadors and teachers to those humans designated to interact with our world." He paused as if waiting for her to say something.

  "That's, uh, very nice of you," she said.

  "How kind of you to notice!" Again, he sounded very pleased. "I think I like you."

  She hoped Grandpa was listening to this. In effect, this was her admissions interview. So far, she seemed to be acing it. She shot a look down at Jake. He was shooing away a curious tourist.

  "The second way for a magic creature to survive in this world is to become a Feeder," the gargoyle said. "Feeders drain magic out of others in order to survive. Commonly, this is done via a bite since the magic inhabits the bloodstream."

  So the attack did tie into this whole fantasy game. She touched the puncture marks on her shoulder and winced as they stung. The fact that the Feeder had drawn blood

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  highlighted how serious the Old Boys were about their fake scenario. She wondered how far they were willing to take it. She pictured Tye holding down the vine-wrapped creature. They'd already taken it far enough.

  "Their prey is humans," Professor Ape said. "All humans have a trace of magic in them, but only a trace. Once it's gone ... the human does not survive. A single bite will kill a human."

  She'd been bitten and survived, so the Old Boys had already slipped up in their story. She guessed that the voice behind the Ape didn't know that. She wasn't going to point it out.

  "Unfortunately, draining humans is addictive," Professor Ape said. "Once a Feeder has experienced it ..." He sighed, his stone body rippling.

  "What does all this have to do with the Ivy Key?" she asked.

  "I knew I liked you! No dithering about impossible versus possible. So refreshing! The knights did well to allow your candidacy," he said. "If you'll pardon the pun, you've 'keyed' into the correct question: What does a key have to do with parallel worlds?" He sounded exactly like her AP Chem teacher, waiting for an answer.

  She considered it. If she were to invent parallel worlds, how would she involve a key? Keys opened doors. "It's the key to a doorway between worlds," she said.

  "Right you are!" he exalted. "In this case, substitute 'gate' for 'door,' and you have it!"

  She wanted to cheer. She felt as if she'd nailed a pop quiz

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  for a class she hadn't even been taking. She glanced down again at Jake, wondering if he could tell how well she was doing. He snapped a photo with his camera phone and then gave her a thumbs-up sign.

  The ape continued. "Once, our two worlds were separate, but three hundred years ago, a gate was opened between our worlds. A golden era began that lasted nearly a century. Hundreds traveled freely between the two worlds, exchanging knowledge and culture. Princeton University was founded to facilitate this exchange." He paused as if picturing the shiny goldenness of this "golden era," and then he heaved a sigh that shuddered through his stone body. "But then, due to fear and ignorance on both sides, the gate was suddenly and irrevocably closed with disastrous consequences. Humans, trapped in the magic world, weakened and died. Magic creatures trapped here either died, became gargoyles, or became Feeders. And so it was ... until the first Key was discovered."

  Beneath her, the stone stilled.

  "So, where can I find this key?" Lily asked.

  No answer.

  "Professor Ape?"

  Silence.

  She knocked on the back of the gargoyle. "Excuse me? Hello? Where do I go next?"

  Below her, Jake called up, "Incoming--twelve o'clock!"

  Lily looked up and saw a security guard jogging toward the gym. She bet he wasn't going to like the explanation that

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  she was up here to talk with a gargoyle. "Jake? Remember how you're going to keep me from splatting on the pavement?"

  He positioned himself beneath the Literate Ape. Lily swung her legs off the gargoyle. She tried not to think about the cement sidewalk below. She wrapped her arms around the ape's neck and lowered herself down. Her toes touched Jake's shoulders, and he gripped her calves.

  "Got me?" she asked.

  He grunted in response.

  She released the gargoyle. For an instant, she dropped. But then Jake's arms tightened around her legs, and she slid straight down into the circle of his arms. Her feet touched the sidewalk, and she looked into the very blue eyes of the very gorgeous boy who was now holding her tightly against his chest. "Knight in shining armor," she said.

  He widened his eyes.

  She heard the security guard shout, "You! Stop!"

  "You promised you weren't going to get me into trouble," he said, his arms still around her.

  "Technically, you're only in trouble if you're caught," she said as the security guard neared. "How about we run?"

  "Good idea," he said.

  Together, they ran.

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  CHAPTER Five

  "He's not following," Jake reported.

  Under the shade of a fir tree, Lily stopped. She bent over, hands on her knees, and caught her breath. They'd sprinted up a hill and past another Reunions tent to a path surrounded by fake wilderness. The trees, shrubs, and vines were staggered to resemble a bit of forest, but unlike a real forest, they'd been carefully trimmed and circled with mulch.

  "You were amazing!" Jake said. "Most people panic the first time they talk with the Literate Ape. But you ... you took it in stride! He even seemed to like you." He was regarding her as if she'd flown solo across the Atlantic without an airplane.

  Lily felt her cheeks heat up. "Uh, thanks," she said. She hadn't done anything so special. Certainly nothing to warrant that expression on his face. "I just ... want to pass." Closest she'd ever gotten to seeing that expression on a guy's face was when she'd dumped a container of chocolate milk directly on

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  Melissa Grayson's head after Melissa had called Lily's mom a loony. She'd gotten applause and then a chat with the school psychologist. But that had been second grade. If it happened now, most of her high school class would agree with Melissa, and no amount of chocolate milk would change that. At least Lily's mom didn't vacation in Hawaii without her or fail to show up to parent-teacher conferences due to a manicure appointment like Melissa's oh-so-perfect mother.

  "You really might pass!" Jake said.

  "Your confidence in me is overwhelming," she said dril
y.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "But most don't. Most can't handle it."

  "You did, right?" she asked.

  "Of course," he said.

  He didn't elaborate, so she walked forward down the winding path. It opened onto a manicured garden of red and yellow tulips. Strips of flower beds curved into a shieldlike shape. Green blanketed the space between the tulips, and in the center was a fountain with candy blue water and a sculpture of a half horse, half man. Sunlight bathed the tulips so the petals glowed. Mom would love this, Lily thought. She should bring her here.

  Or maybe Mom had already been here. She'd mentioned a tulip garden with a fountain. This place, like the Chained Dragon on the chapel, could be somehow lodged in Mom's memory. "Where are we?" Lily asked.

  "Prospect Gardens," Jake said. "Straight ahead is the student union, and beyond that are the eating clubs. To our

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  right are dorms. To our left, Firestone Library, the chapel, East Pyne, Nassau Hall. You have your next clue?"

  Unfortunately, she didn't. She knew that Feeders were bad and that the Old Boys liked Dungeons & Dragons a bit too much, but she didn't know what she was supposed to do next. She couldn't admit that with Jake still beaming at her, though, so she dodged the question instead. "Did you talk to gargoyles in your test?"

  "Oh, yes, but I spent the entire conversation with Professor Ape searching for a speaker and microphone," Jake said. "I even pried up a flagstone in the walk below. Grandpa subtracted the repair cost from my trust fund."

  "Oh." She tried to imagine cavalierly tossing around words like "trust fund" and couldn't. "Your grandfather didn't help you?"

  "It wouldn't have been ethical," he said.

  "Right. Sorry."