by C. P. Rider
"Cindy, I'm—"
"It's fine. We should get to class."
Cindy left right after school for a dental appointment, and Samuel had decided we should take a break for the day and meet early Saturday morning at the ripper field instead. He'd said he had things to do in preparation. I hated to think what he was preparing for. Samuel thought I was ready to create a stable doorway to my world, but he was desperate, and desperate people don't always think straight.
Abuelo's words echoed in my head. Will you risk getting yourself, Cindy, or the Bekker kid killed? Because that's what's going to happen. You aren't strong enough to hold a ripper…
I walked home alone. I couldn't help but stop to look at what used to be a smooth asphalt road in front of the elementary school. Although I didn't regret helping the kids, I wondered if I could have avoided causing a miles-deep crater to erupt in the middle of town if I'd had more control. And that made me angry at Abuelo Emilio all over again, since he could teach me control if he wanted to.
You aren't strong enough to hold a ripper…
I hung back behind a tree, watching as a street crew jackhammered blacktop into manageable chunks. One of the workers appeared to have some form of telekinesis, because large chunks were rising into the air and being dumped into a truck, and there wasn't a bulldozer or any other construction machine in sight.
"We saw you do that yesterday," a voice behind me said.
Startled, I spun around. When I saw who it was, all my muscles tightened up.
Gilda Bond. Cheerleader, Solstice Maiden—which I took to be something like homecoming queen, except with less football and more celestial stuff—and all-around Dead End High School mean girl. Most of the cheerleaders I'd met were okay, but Gilda and the two snobs she was with today did not fall into that category.
"Hey," I said. Killing it with the communication.
"You're really powerful," she said.
"Uh, thanks." What was I supposed to say to that?
One of the other girls spoke up. I thought of her as Thing One, like in the Dr. Seuss book. I really should learn her name. "My dad says you're even more powerful than your grandfather."
"Yeah," Thing Two said, "Mine, too."
Gilda gave the girls a withering look and they shut up. "There's a party Saturday night, if you're interested. At the Beyond border northeast of town."
"Party?"
"Yeah, the moon is waning, so we've got a good chance of seeing the mountain chimera."
All of it, every last word, meant nothing to me. "Umm, thanks. I'll talk to Cindy about it."
"You do that," Gilda said, her voice like a gong inside my brain. Holy crap, I didn't know what her ability was, but my head felt like I'd drunk a slushy way too fast. "And one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"Some of us like to showcase our abilities out there. Not everyone has the greatest control, so, you know, watch out." She turned on her heel and flounced away, her waist-length orange hair bouncing against her back. Six palm-sized butterflies alighted on the ends.
Where had they come from? I hadn't seen any butterflies earlier. What the heck was her ability?
Maybe I'd find out if I went to the party.
I scrunched my head between my shoulders and fast-walked past the city workers cleaning up my mess as I headed home.
"What's a mountain chimera?" I parked the ATV at the base of a different dune to the last one, this one a little farther away from the Divide.
"Why?" Cindy let go of my waist and climbed off.
I told her about Gilda's party.
"Bunch of stupid-rears," Cindy said.
"You mean dumbasses."
"Yeah. Dumbasses. The mountain chimera isn't something to be fooled with. If they aren't careful, they'll antagonize her and she'll attack."
Samuel, who'd beaten us to the dune by five minutes, chuckled. "I'd pay money to see those conceited elitists running for their lives from the mountain chimera."
"That wasn't nice, Samuel," Cindy said.
"It wasn't? Good. I properly expressed myself. My English teacher is always telling me I need to work on that."
"So, you guys don't like Gilda?" I asked.
Cindy sighed. "It's not that I don't like her. It's more that we don't move in the same social circles."
"And Gilda has no problem letting her know that," Samuel said. "Wait a minute. Tell me you aren't thinking of going to this stupid party."
"I don't know. I'm kind of curious about it. I've never been invited to a party before—well, since I was a child, anyway. It might be fun." I nudged Cindy. "Want to go?"
"I can't. I promised my mom I'd help her with the canning. Our sparrowberries are going crazy this year." She smiled, but it seemed dimmer than its usual thousand-watt glare.
Samuel eyed Cindy, a muscle in his jaw pulsing. When he noticed me looking at him, he cleared his throat. "To answer your original question, the mountain chimera is a creature that lives in the mountains separating Dead End from the Beyond."
"They're called the Chimera Mountains," Cindy said, "in honor-fear of the mountain chimera."
"Honor-fear?"
"Yeah, it's when you honor someone not because you admire them, but because—"
"You fear them?"
Both Samuel and Cindy nodded. I thought about it a moment, realized the term actually made a lot of sense, and brushed past it to get to the heart of what I really wanted to discuss.
"Please, you guys, tell me there isn't a real chimera up there."
A few months ago, I'd read a horror novel in which a mythical chimera terrorized a small American town. I'd loved the book, mostly because it terrified me. I liked being scared in fiction. I liked it in real life a lot less.
Cindy laughed. "Oh, no. Only a fire-breathing monster with a lion's head and a goat's body and a serpent's tail."
"That sounds like a real chimera," I said flatly.
"No, the real chimera lives far into the Beyond. Now she's scary. Part Tyrannosaurus Rex, part sand demon. Has about ten heads, all of them awful. She hardly ever comes close to populated areas, though. Last time was, what," she looked at Samuel, "six months ago?"
"Yeah. At Track's End. Ate someone's pet tarantula and went home. She was only in the area for a couple of hours."
"That's all she did in two hours? Just ate someone's pet?" I mean, it was sad, but it wasn't as horrifying as I'd imagined.
"Well, it takes a while to eat a two-hundred-pound spider," Cindy said.
"The exoskeleton on one of those things is like a bulletproof vest," Samuel said. "Don't you have tarantulas in the Other?"
"Yes and no, and please stop saying things that scare me."
"Don't worry. The mountain chimera isn't nearly as bad as the Beyond chimera." Cindy smiled in that way that told me she was a little bit lying, but also telling the truth.
"Yeah." Samuel pulled a water bottle out of a pack tied to his ATV. "But then everything is worse in the Beyond. The deeper you go, the more dangerous it gets."
"Remind me never to go there." Useless words. I wasn't going to need a reminder.
Samuel downed half the water, then capped the bottle and set it in the palm of his right hand. Closed his eyes.
"Let's get started."
The sloshing water in the bottle stilled. Samuel kept one foot planted and took small steps with the other—like a human drawing compass—keeping the water in the bottle surprisingly level as he turned in a semicircle.
I started to ask him what he was doing, but I recalled Cindy's words from a few days ago and held my tongue. Seismo … hears really well. He can track vibrations above and beneath the earth and can pinpoint the location of a disturbance with near-perfect accuracy.
So, I figured this all had something to do with his ability, and waited to see what would happen.
Although Samuel hadn't made any abrupt moves, the water in the bottle began to slosh around. His eyelids popped open and he pointed at a section of the Divide just beyond
where the water had reacted.
"There. That ripper is partially below ground. Perfect for walking through. Come on."
20
I wasn't sure about this. A hundred negative possibilities sprang up in my mind at once, and I froze.
"Try again. Here." He held out his hand. "I'll help you tune into the vibration."
With a wide-eyed look at Cindy that she returned with a brow waggle and a grin, I took Samuel's hand.
"Ease up. I'd like to be able to play the piano after this is all over." I yanked my hand back.
"Sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength." He took my hand again, this time more gently. "You play the piano?"
"No. Always nice to have the option, though."
One side of his mouth tilted. Document the date and the time, Samuel Bekker almost smiled.
"Let your consciousness slide into the vibrations of the ripper. It's like music. The symbols don't make sense to everyone, but to the people who can read it, it's a wordless poem straight to the heart."
I made a face at Cindy and mouthed, "He's a romantic."
"I'm not a romantic," Samuel said. "I can read vibrations and hear well. You can't whisper to keep me from hearing you, and when I'm connected with the vibrations of the atmosphere, you can't even move your lips without me hearing."
"Fine. I still think you're a romantic." I squeezed his hand and closed my eyes.
"Concentrate," Samuel said through clenched teeth.
"You know, you repeating that actually makes it a billion times easier to focus."
"She's being sarcastic," Cindy said.
"Yeah, I got that," Samuel grumbled.
It took a few minutes, but I was finally able to tune in to the ripper. Once I latched onto the vibrations, I didn't need Samuel to lead me to them anymore.
"Now bring your ability to a simmer." He released my hand. "When you get it there, blend the vibrations."
I was getting better. In only one week, I'd learned to simmer. I hadn't, however, learned to blend. "How?"
"The way I told you. Slide in and hold until it feels right."
"That sounded dirty," I said, and Cindy giggled.
"Do you want me to start saying ‘concentrate' again?"
"I'm sliding, I'm sliding." I eased the vibrations I created close to the vibrations of the ripper. Sped mine up until they matched. Slid them together.
My mouth fell open. "It worked."
"Great. Now hold it steady," Samuel said.
"Uh, guys…" Cindy said.
"Steady, Maria. You're throwing too much into it."
"I'm doing the best I can, get off me."
"Guys?"
"Hang on, Cindy." I scowled at Samuel. "You made me mess up. Be quiet and let me do it again."
"You're too emotional. Just—"
"I'm what? I swear, Samuel Bekker, if you don't shut your cake-hole, I'm going to show you emotional."
"Guys!"
"What?" Samuel and I snarled.
"Look. Right side of the ripper."
We did, though I kind of wished we hadn't. "Not another worm."
"Don't be a wimp," Samuel said. "This one is half the size of the one that came after you and your dog."
I pictured that stupid worm with its stupid tongue around Toby. "Kill it with fire."
"Fire doesn't work on these things." Samuel stomped through the sand to his bag, held up an ax. "How about I kill it with this?"
"Works for me."
Cindy cringed. "I wouldn't do that."
"Why not? They aren't pets, Cindy. Those things are dangerous to people and dogs, and must be stopped," I said.
"They're dangerous to all kinds of creatures, not just people and dogs. I'm not trying to make it a pet, I'm trying to tell you I saw it swallow a lizard," she replied, as if that were a good reason not to kill the thing.
"So, it's a lizard murderer. Now we have an even better reason to kill it. Samuel, whack it."
"Nope." Samuel lowered the ax.
"What the heck? What's wrong with you? Chop-choppity-chop its head off."
He sighed. "Do you have skunks on your side of the Divide?"
"Sure. Black and white, small and cute, spray stuff out of their butts that smells like rotten eggs? Why? Do you have them here?"
"Sure," Cindy replied. "We have skunks, moles, gophers, dograts, dragon-squirrels…"
"What are dograts and dragon-squirrels? Please don't say rats as big as dogs and squirrels as big as dragons." I crossed my fingers.
"Well…"
"Use your imagination," Samuel snapped. "So, you've been sprayed by a skunk before?"
"Me? No. I've never been sprayed, but I've smelled when a car has hit one. Nasty stuff. What's that got to do with this?"
Cindy said, "You don't want to kill a limpid worm while it's digesting food, if at all possible."
"Why not?"
"If you don't time it just right, the worm explodes on impact, coating you in its digestive juices."
I made a gagging sound. "That does not sound nice."
"It's not. A limpid worm's digestive fluid is skunk … times ten," Cindy said.
"Let's not ax it."
"Great idea, Maria," Samuel said wryly, as he pointed to the ripper. "Hey, you're still holding it."
"I am not holding that thing."
"Not the worm, the ripper."
"Oh. I am, huh? I kind of forgot I was doing it."
"Look, the limpid worm is going through the ripper." Cindy grabbed my elbow. "Should we let it? Do you guys have limpid worms there? I don't think you do. We probably shouldn't let it—"
"It's coming back." Samuel came up on the other side of me. "Nice work, earthmover. The worm is nearly through. I knew you could hold it." He slapped me on the back.
I'm sure he meant well.
It was a congratulatory sort of slap—a "good job" slap.
But it was enough of a distraction that I lost my grasp on the ripper. It destabilized and slammed shut, catching the worm between both sides of the Divide. Sliced the thing in half.
Then it exploded.
I was on my fifth shower.
Well, it was the same shower, just my fifth time soaping up my entire body, turning off the water while the soap sat on my skin for ten minutes, then washing it all down the drain.
Grandpa Holli gagged when I walked in the door. He told me to get in the bathroom and stay there while he went out to buy some kind of special soap from the local herb and mineral apothecary.
"Doug down at Dent's Apothecary said this should take the edge off." He handed me a burlap bag the size of a woman's purse through a crack in the door. "Lather up, including hair, and leave it on for 10 minutes. Repeat until your eyes stop watering. What were you thinking, taking an ax to a recently fed limpid worm?"
"Well, Grandpa, I don't know what I was thinking. However, I can guarantee that I will never do it again."
He backed away from the door, swiped at his watery eyes. "There's also a cleanser for the bathroom itself in there. Scrub it down when you're finished showering. And dump your dirty clothes out the window. I'm going to burn them."
"There's no way to save my jeans?"
"No. I'll have to burn them, sprinkle sage over the ashes, and bury them ten feet below ground."
Kill it with fire, I'd said. Guess the worm had the last laugh. Stupid worm.
I washed off lather number five, sniffed myself, gagged, and lathered up again. Turned off the water and perched naked on the side of the tub inside the dark blue shower curtain as the soap tingled my skin.
"Jeez, how long does one shower take?"
I slipped off the edge and back into the tub, nearly ripping the shower curtain off its rings in the process. When I had my balance again, I shoved the thin plastic aside and scowled at the astral projection slouched against the sink.
"Aedan, get out of here."
"I've been waiting in your room forever."
"Get out, you ass."
"Relax, I
can't see you behind that thing." He did an exaggerated sniff. "I think I can smell you, though."
"Shut up. You can't smell anything. You're an astral projection."
He laughed. "Only teasing."
I put my hand around the edge of the shower curtain and gave him a one-finger salute.
He laughed again. "How did it go at the ripper fields today?"
I whisked the shower curtain shut. "How do you know I went there?"
"It's the only place you go besides school, the blonde girl's place, and that boy's house. You should stop doing that, by the way."
"Doing what?"
"Going to that guy's house."
"His name is Samuel and I go to other places, too."
"No, you don't. You have no social life. Almost as bad as when you lived here. You've got the blonde girl and the big dude, but that's about it."
I turned on the shower water. Rinsed off. Sniffed.
Better. Not great, but better.
I lathered up again.
"I'll have you know I was invited to a party tonight." To which I had no intention of going.
"You won't go."
"Why do you say that?" I poked my head out from behind the shower curtain. Aedan leaned on the edge of the sink, checked himself out in the mirror. He was a little less substantial today, more like an actual ghost.
"You're not the type to party."
He was right, but I was pissed. "I am exactly the type to party, which I will prove to you tonight when I do, in fact, party."
"So, you're going to hang out with a bunch of prissy girls from school. Big deal."
I let the shower curtain drop. "Guys will be there, too."
"No."
"Yes, there will be. Gilda said lots of people go."
"Oh, I figured you were telling the truth. I'm saying ‘no' as in ‘I forbid it.'"
"F-Forbid it?" I laughed so hard I nearly slipped again. "Tell me, on what planet does that kind of crap fly?"
He didn't speak for so long, I thought he might have disappeared.
"I admit, that was a little … chauvinistic of me."
"A little? That was the textbook definition of a male chauvinist. It's like you were practicing for a test." I shoved the curtain aside again, peered out at him. "A-plus, by the way."
