A Quill Ladder

by Jennifer Ellis

  The fact that she was in this future at all was a bit of a surprise. She had expected to arrive in the desert—her future—or on the more familiar causeway, for no reason other than that it was more familiar. So that meant someone had opened the portal to this future. Someone else was already here.

  Abbey whirled all about, expecting to see someone else standing in the trees, but then she chided herself. Whoever came through first could be long gone and already engaged in whatever nefarious activities they had planned—she was becoming a bit cynical about the users of the stones. The ground and underbrush around the stones looked trampled, as if a large number of people, or a few very large people, had just paraded through the area. It looked like they had headed off opposite the direction she had traveled to get to Caleb’s camp, assuming she was remembering the direction correctly and wasn’t turned around.

  She was about to go back and show Sam that she could in fact travel in time, and ensure that he hadn’t panicked at her disappearance and gone running off to inform her father—which, in retrospect, she ought to have warned him against doing—when she heard the buzz of voices approaching. She sank to her knees behind the closest tree and tried to peer through the underbrush.

  “Either way, we’re going to need Jake’s help. Or you’re going to have to find someone else… like Jake.” Abbey recognized that voice. It was Russell.

  “I’m working on it. It’ll all come together,” said Sylvain in a low voice. “Keep your voice down. I told you, someone else is here, and we must be getting close to the stones.”

  The two men emerged from the trees several meters from the stones. Russell carried a pickaxe and a shovel. Sylvain’s hand was wrapped in a large white bandage, and he was looking around suspiciously. She wondered if his doorbell talent worked in this future too. He carried a compass flat in his other hand and appeared to be trying to follow a bearing. Abbey made herself as small as possible behind the tree.

  “You keep saying it’ll come together. But we haven’t found Dr. Burton yet, and all the evidence suggests that he died. So what makes you so sure there even is a Burton extraction process?”

  “Because before everything went kaput, Dr. Burton had a grad student named Sam Livingstone, who was doing most of the primary research. Livingstone was considered a genius. If Burton died, my bet is that Livingstone continued the research.”

  Abbey nearly fainted. Sam? They were talking about Sam. Or future Sam. She couldn’t believe it.

  Sylvain and Russell arrived at the small clearing where the stones were. Sylvain gave a quick blink of surprise at the sight of the stones, pocketed the compass, and looked around more intently. He evidently spotted the path of broken branches and flattened shrubbery because he walked over to it and followed it for several meters. At this point, all he had to do to see Abbey would be to turn around; but she couldn’t move, otherwise Russell would see her.

  “So you think he’s elsewhere, in another future? Are we sure there’s only three? He could have just died, you know.” Russell’s voice came from the other side of the tree.

  Sylvain continued to stare in the opposite direction. “Hmm. Could have, but I think he’s worth looking for. And yes, let’s hope there are only three.”

  “Funny. The name Livingstone. I’m assuming we need Jake then.”

  Sylvain’s voice was even lower now. “Quiet. There’s someone else here. Quite a few people, I would say.”

  “What do you want to do about it?”

  “You can ditch those things for starters.” Without turning, Sylvain waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder, and Abbey figured he must be referring to the pickaxe and shovel she’d seen Russell carrying.

  “What? These are new. I just bought them.”

  “For God’s sake, just put them in the bushes. We can come back for them later.”

  Sylvain finally turned around, and of course his eyes fell immediately on Abbey. She smiled and waved, hopefully. She still hadn’t quite figured out whether Sylvain was good or bad. Or, more importantly at this point in time, whether he was to be feared or not.

  “Ah, it’s you,” he said. But then he looked back along the trampled path. “Did you bring friends? Or is this someone else’s path? Did you just get here? The doorbell has been ringing like crazy this afternoon. I’m assuming the last one was you?”

  Abbey stepped out from behind the tree and saw Russell do a double take. “Yeah, I just got here,” she said. “I didn’t make that path, and I don’t know who did.” She started to say that she really had to get back to Sam, who was probably freaking by now. But then she realized that if Sylvain was looking for Sam, it might not be a good idea to lead them directly to him, until she figured out exactly what it was they wanted from him.

  “Maybe you should go after whoever it was,” she said.

  Sylvain looked at her a bit strangely. “Why would you suggest that?”

  Abbey shrugged. “Well, it’s probably important. You know, to know what’s going on. What the others are doing.”

  *****

  “All right then,” Ian said, pointing at the Madrona, Digby perched on his shoulder eating a sunflower seed. “That’s where we need to head. It looks due southwest from here. Let’s be off.”

  Mark felt like a bunch of blood vessels might explode in his head. They had just climbed an entire mountain only to turn around and go right back down. He sat heavily on a rock and folded his arms over his chest.

  The claw-fingered woman and the two dark-clothed very bad man pushed past him, grumbling and giving him looks as if they knew he was going to be trouble, kind of like his first- and second-grade teachers had. He hadn’t had a third-grade teacher, because he freaked out in the middle of second grade when his teacher had insisted that he remain in the bin three reading level even though he could read the books from bin twenty-seven. He just couldn’t read them aloud, which, she said, was required before moving on to the next bin. And then he’d had to be pulled out of the classroom, because he was considered disruptive.

  Jake followed, looking irritated, and Ian strolled past next. “Lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?” he said. “Rather a lot of exercise for a wild goose chase of course, but I thought you might like to see the sights.” Ian placed a strange emphasis on the word “sights,” and then gazed down off the outcrop across the bank of trees. “We can wait for you at the bottom, Mark, if you want to take a little rest. But don’t take too much time. Selena is very anxious to keep moving.”

  HT One plunked himself down on a rock next to Mark and wiped some sweat from his brow with a rather dirty hankie. Mark tried very hard not to recoil. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” the hairy man said. Mark jumped. He didn’t expect to be spoken to by one of the hairy and tattooed. “I’m Frank,” the man said by way of introduction.

  “Frank, Frank, Frank…” Mark repeated to himself.

  “They aren’t going to find what they’re looking for,” Frank said. “Them wormholes have been destroyed or covered over. Sylvain and Marian saw to that.”

  There was that word again. Wormhole. Mark could hardly imagine what they meant by that. A shortcut through spacetime? Or something else? Something else, probably. And Ms. Beckham and the bad man had worked together, or separately (he wasn’t sure), to see to the destruction of the wormholes. He was a bit confused.

  Mark rose and stepped carefully out to the edge of the outcrop where Ian had been standing previously, and stared down at the vibrant and massive Madrona. He let his eyes drift westward, tracing the ocean of trees, until his gaze came to rest on one of the humps of the Stairway Mountains. They looked different than he was used to. Instead of the curving cement of the Granton Dam, the valley between the first and second stair mountains was open, and he wondered if he could just barely make out the white froth of a waterfall. The Moon River…

  Fearful that the others had left him behind, he turned and began his descent.

  The footing was uneven on
the way down, and sometimes his feet got ahead of him and he had to do little runs and staggers in order to stay upright. It was altogether frightening, and he nearly lost his balance on more than one occasion. He was in the midst of one such uncontrolled off-kilter run when he crashed directly into the back of HT Two, who was as solid as a rock (even compared to Mark), and didn’t so much as totter when Mark slammed into him from behind.

  It seemed that everyone had stopped. Then he saw the reason why.

  Dr. Ford stood on the trail in a large, broad-brimmed Tilly hat with a set of binoculars slung around his neck. Sandy peeked out from behind him, and Dr. Ford’s black and white dog, her legs covered in bandages and her lip curled back in a snarl, scuttled about beside them.

  “Beautiful day for hiking, isn’t it?” Dr. Ford said. A large wind gust caught the edge of his hat and sent it sailing into a bush on the side of the path.

  “Quite,” murmured Jake, in front of HT Two.

  “You’re following us,” the clawed woman said.

  “Not in the slightest,” Dr. Ford said, his cloud of fuzzy hair whipping in the growing wind. “Don’t mind Sanome. She’s been a little bit skittish since a nasty encounter with some other dogs.”

  The clawed woman ignored him. “Look, we found the Madrona. You can see it clearly from the outcrop. You might as well just come with us. I know that’s what you’re looking for.” There was a nasty edge to her voice that Mark found a little unnerving.

  Dr. Ford drew himself up a bit. “Sandy and I were just out for a nice stroll, seeing the sights, but since you have so kindly invited us along, we’d be delighted to join you. I love trees.”

  “All right, let’s keep going then,” Ian said. A weariness had crept into his voice.

  Dr. Ford and Sandy did an about face, and the entire group made their way down the mountainside and headed in the direction of the Madrona.

  Mark was again soaked with sweat as they scrambled through humid underbrush, wind increasingly thrashing the crowns of the trees above them, when they spotted the papery-barked trunk twisting up out of the forest floor. The clawed woman almost broke into a run, calling for Jake to hurry. When she reached the tree, she pressed her red enameled fingers against the smooth trunk and leaned her cheek against it for good measure. Jake had obligingly followed, while the rest of the group came to a stop a few meters away from the tree.

  “Finally,” she said. “I know this tree is special. I can feel it.”

  Jake had circled the tree and was staring at something on the other side. “It is special,” he said. “But not in the way you were hoping.”

  “What do you mean?” Any sweetness that had been in the woman’s voice evaporated. She marched over to where Jake stood, while everyone else inched closer to the tree, tentatively, to see what Jake was pointing at.

  There behind the trees sat two familiar looking wooden platforms with figures carved in the edges. A pair of docks. Even Mark could feel the mild thrumming of energy coming from them.

  “Impossible,” said the woman. There’s only one set of docks, and they’re over there.” She gestured wildly into the trees, and then, appearing to change her mind, pointed a different way, and then again a third way. Then she shook her head, stomped her foot, and flung her crimson-tipped fingers into the air. “Oh well, wherever they are. These aren’t them. These can’t be docks.”

  “Sure look like docks to me,” Ian said mildly.

  “I can feel them,” Jake said. “Do you want me to show you?”

  “No! NO!” the woman yelled.

  “Well, isn’t this lovely?” cut in a new voice. “We’re all out for a walk in the woods together?”

  Mark swiveled his head to see Mantis (Sylvain, he reminded himself) approach with Abbey and a redheaded man in tow. Sanome circled around and let out a low growl. Mark wondered if now would be an inappropriate time to ask Sylvain about his map.

  “Of course we are—don’t we always walk in the woods together?” Jake muttered.

  Ian clasped his hands together and said, “That’s just what I was saying,” as if finding the docks and everyone being there together was the greatest thing in the world. Mark really wished he had a better understanding of sarcasm and emotion sometimes. (He also decided it was probably an inappropriate time to ask about the map.)

  The woman flew at Sylvain, her fingers extended as if to claw him, but Frank and HT Two stepped in front of Sylvain and she halted, her face distorted in a rather alarming, odd sort of way. “You knew!” she screamed. “All that talk about the prophecy and the lookout. You knew!”

  “I only gave you the information that I knew to be true,” Sylvain said. “That the lookout is a starting point. I didn’t say for what. I didn’t even know for what myself. You can’t say it didn’t lead you to something. It just didn’t lead you to what you were hoping for. Pretty fair exchange, considering that your payment was trying to take my finger.”

  “I need the files,” the woman said. “Where are the files, Sylvain?”

  “That, I don’t know,” Sylvain replied.

  “Liar,” said the woman. “Where have you been?”

  “Well, considering that you seem keen to liberate me from my finger, I thought I’d make myself a little more scarce than usual.” He turned to the larger group. “I think we’ve seen all we need to see here,” he added. “Time to head home for dinner.” He smiled, but there was something funny in the curve of his lips. If Mark was a guessing person (which he definitely preferred not to be), and could read faces better, he would say that it might be fear.

  Sylvain turned and started marching off quickly into the trees, in a different direction from the way he had come. The redheaded man turned and obediently followed.

  “I’ll get you,” the woman, making as if to run after Sylvain. Frank and HT Two moved to block her way again. “Get out of my way, you hairy louts! Live up to your stupid names. Get him!” The wind had picked up again, and her hair flew around her face in wild black streams.

  “Now, Selena,” Ian said. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. I’m not a hundred percent sure who’s on which side among all assembled here”—he looked around the circle—“but I’d say we’re evenly matched, and even if not, there are far too many witnesses.” Dr. Ford and Sandy, Mark noted, remained silent and wore exceedingly bland expressions (most expressions were, of course, of varying degrees of blandness to Mark—he tried to look for clues in the upturn or downturn of mouths—but these expressions were definitely more bland than usual).

  The woman (Selena, Mark reminded himself; he needed to learn names) made her face all squinty and crumpled-looking. “Follow him,” she ordered. The wind shuddered through the Madrona, tossing the upper branches and leaves around. The air was now tinged with the inkiness of an early winter’s eve.

  The two very very bad men looked from Mark to Jake, and then to Ian, then to Sandy and Dr. Ford, and at last turned and went after Sylvain.

  “Don’t say I didn’t tell you that was a bad idea,” Ian called after them.

  “I gotta get home too,” Jake said. He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and stared for just a few seconds at Abbey.

  “You haven’t been dismissed yet,” Selena hissed.

  Ian looked at his watch in a slow and precise fashion. “Well, I’m going to head off, and I’m sure that the two louts are ready for dinner too.” Ian winked at the two larger men. He turned to Abbey and Mark. “I suggest you come with us. These woods aren’t the safest at night—all sorts of nasty things around.” He flicked his eyes in the direction of Selena.

  “You’re going to regret not helping us,” Selena said.

  “Maybe,” said Ian. “But you’re assuming I actually can help you, even if I wanted to. The wormholes, if they ever existed, have probably been destroyed.”

  “What about an Alty? The right person, the right place, the right time. That’s what the old documents say.” Selena crossed her a
rms over her chest and glared at Ian.

  “They may say that. But you have three variables to solve for there, and we don’t have the answer to any of them.”

  “You don’t even want to try. If you had convinced Sylvain to hand over the files, we might have some answers. We should have taken off his whole hand, not just the finger.”

  Ian gave the woman a little smile, and there was an emotion in his eyes that Mark struggled to identify. “I haven’t been convinced of the merits of putting other humans’ lives at risk just for the sake of a ridiculous experiment.”

  “It’s not a ridiculous experiment. You’re just afraid. When we find the way, you’ll be the first in line. Remember the meaning of Coventry.”

  “Perhaps.” Ian turned in the direction from which they had come. “But I’m off now. Coming, Mark, Abbey?” Mark wasted no time hustling after Ian, followed by Abbey, Frank, and HT Two.

  “If you’re not with us, you’re against us. This was your last chance!” Selena called.

  “I’ll keep an eye on all my digits then,” Ian called back.

  “What is going on?” Abbey said as soon as they were out of earshot. The tendrils of her red hair flew around her head. “Why did you bring Mark here? Should we have let Sylvain go on his own? They’re going after him.”

  Mark bristled a bit at this, as if he had been “brought” and not come voluntarily, as if he were a child to be managed.

  “Sylvain knows these woods better than Selena and those two goons. He’ll get away. As for Mark, I thought maybe he could be of some help,” Ian said, as he scrambled over logs and wound his way back through the dense underbrush.

  Abbey cocked her head. “How so?”

  “Mark knows geography. And the lookout is the starting point.”