I tapped my pen on the table impatiently as time dragged by with agonizing slowness. My attention drifted with my gaze out the window. The weather was perfect outside and the river was inviting, but my mind was farther away. I thought about the dry pool with its impossible aquamarine light.
“Reliving being thrown into the stream, Kestrel?” Lucas, one of Calvin’s friends whispered as he walked up to Professor Block’s desk to turn in his test.
A glare was the only comeback I could afford, since he had already walked away. I tried to ignore the hushed giggles from people who had apparently found the whole ordeal amusing.
It didn’t matter to me. I looked at my pocket watch and counted down the minutes until the bell would end our day. I wondered if my watch was moving slower than it should when the bell rang.
“Turn the last of your papers in up front,” Block said, tidying the bunch he already had in his tray. “No last minute writing. Time’s up. I want to get out of here as much as you do, come on, turn them in.”
I practically sprang out of my chair. I’d half-heartedly finished my quiz fifteen minutes ago, but needed the excuse to talk to Professor Block.
“I’ll meet you outside,” I told Ruby. “I need to ask Block a question.”
Ruby looked petrified, but nodded and began gathering her belongings.
“Right there Miss Kestrel,” Block said, tapping the pile in the pan. “I haven’t got all afternoon.”
Butterflies crept into my stomach again. I placed my quiz with the other papers.
“Sir,” I said weakly. “I have I question for you… about the outer world.”
“We’re past that material, Miss Kestrel,” he said rifling through homework sheets on his desk.
“You found it interesting,” I said with a little too much accusation. “Sir,” I added, to lighten up my serious tone.
“And I still do,” he sighed, looking at me patiently. He pulled the spectacles off of his nose and set them down on his desk, rubbing his eyes. “Well, what would you like to ask?”
There were so many ways to phrase what I wanted to say, and all of those powerful questions charged at me like a herd of runaway horses. My instinct was to blurt everything out, but I knew I couldn’t be that direct.
“What if,” I began timidly, “...what if someone found a way to the outside?”
“Impossible,” he replied, quickly shutting me down.
“Well, if it was possible,” I persisted. “What if they met someone on the other side?”
“Met someone on the other side? Utterly impossible. But alright, Miss Kestrel, if they did, the report would go to a constable straightaway and they would both be jailed,” he said sternly, putting his glasses back on.
“Jailed?” I repeated, aghast. Almost no one was ever arrested in Haven Valley for any reason. It seemed so harsh, so unfair. “But what if the person on the other side was injured and needed help?”
“Like I said, they would both be arrested and the stranger, if there was one, would probably be detained,” Block said evenly. “Katelyn, I know what you’re up to.”
I felt my heart come to a stabbing halt.
“I know you’re curious,” Block continued. “You’ve found yourself a real mystery, and I’m glad you have. I felt the same way when I was your age. But there is absolutely no way in or out of Haven Valley, and as interesting as I find the subject matter, we will simply never have the answers to those questions. Do yourself a favor. Don’t even think about poking around the hills or exploring the mountains. It’s a dangerous waste of your young life. It’s been done.”
“You?” I asked, catching on to the double meaning of his lecture.
“Yes,” he said, putting our assignments in his shabby brown leather briefcase. “And I was arrested for my own safety when I was nineteen years old. My father didn’t speak to me for ten years. Save yourself and your family from that kind of shame, and don’t chase ghosts. Apply your curiosities to things that will make life in Haven Valley even better and forget the crumbled ruins of a broken yesterday.”
* * *
It was always easy to spot Ruby. Her artificially colored candy apple red hair was like a beacon. I found her leaning against the wall, not far from the classroom door.
“I couldn’t go out there without you,” she admitted, sheepishly.
There was nothing for me to say, to Ruby or to anyone. I was far too preoccupied trying to imagine a young, adventurous Professor Block exploring the wickedly high white-capped mountains that encircled the broad entirety of our Valley. He had set off to find a way out, just like I did, but he’d physically attempted to scale the mountains. Thanks to my lucky sense in finding things, I was saved from the trip. The aquamarine pool I’d climbed into wasn’t just strange because it glowed or kept me dry. It transported me past the mountains somehow. It didn’t seem scientifically possible, but it was the only explanation.
Telling Professor Block the truth was out of the question. I didn’t want to be arrested, and as my teacher, I had no idea which side of the law he’d be on.
I looked desperately at Ruby, my secret tearing at me, begging its freedom. There was a way out of Haven Valley, and there was an injured boy on the other side. I trusted her. We’d been friends since we were six years old. I knew that she wouldn’t turn me in, but I didn’t want her to get in trouble if I got caught.
I vowed that I’d tell her, just as soon as I made sure it was safe. And how safe could anything be when preceded by walls scribbled with “YOU’RE GOING TO DIE” all over them? I closed my arms around my chest with a sudden chill, wondering if I should follow Block’s advice and forget about what I found.
The breeze swept our loose hair back from our shoulders as we left the building. The chatter of students cheerfully bringing their school day to a close was strangely normal in contrast with my thoughts.
“Hi Soggy! What’s wrong with you today?” Kyle greeted me with his signature crooked grin.
“Call me that again and I’ll trip you down the steps,” I returned.
“That’s more like it, Kats,” Kyle said cheerfully. “Hi Ruby.”
“Hi,” she muttered back absently, scanning the lawn for Sterling.
“He already left,” Kyle said, answering her unasked question. “He was looking around for you guys but you weren’t out here. He asked me if we were going to get into any more fights or jump off the Ferris Wheel again tonight.”
“And what did you say?” Ruby asked, clutching the sleeve of Kyle’s jacket in a death-grip.
“Probably not,” Kyle answered.
“And what did he say?” she implored with wide eyes, framed by her cute glasses.
“Nothing. We said ‘later’ and he left,” Kyle replied neutrally.
“Kyle!” Ruby exclaimed furiously. “I’m going to kill you!”
“You say that a lot,” he retorted.
“Why, why, why,” Ruby whined, “would you tell him we weren’t doing anything tonight?”
“Because we’re not,” Kyle said daftly. He was very neutral on caring whether Sterling was around, and it showed. “Unless we are… Do you want to hang out tonight Kat?”
Ruby was disgusted and completely flustered.
“No,” I said, distracted. “I’m just going to go home. I have some things to take care of.”
I don’t know why I didn’t invite them both over and insist they come with me that very instant to visit the hole in the Graveyard Mausoleum. If we’d really wanted to, we could have stopped by Sterling’s place to see if graveyard out-worldly expeditions were an interesting enough diversion for him. But I didn’t do any of it. I needed to figure things out. I needed to remind myself whether this whole thing was real before I went telling my friends about it, especially if our explorations could get us in very deep trouble with the law.
My mind was made up: I was going to go home, and then go back there... back through the dry pool.
Chapter 9: Fading Light
It hardly took me any time at all to prepare for my next visit outside of Haven Valley. I knew what to expect. It was a relatively short journey, after all.
I packed egg rolls and baked yams, and filled a small, leather-coated water bottle for myself, then collected a pack of fresh matches and raided my step-mother’s drawer of votive candles. Checking to make sure my little round lantern was refueled and ready to go, I strode purposefully into my room, past the collection of clay birds on my desk, and finalized my preparations.
Hastily, I strapped boots over my utilitarian trousers, and flung an ankle-length brown hooded coat over my scoop-necked shirt. As soon as my purple fingerless gloves were scrunched under my sleeves, I was ready to go.
I definitely looked suspicious tromping down the stairs in my outerwear with food, water and a lantern stuffed into my messenger satchel. The sun hadn’t even gone down yet.
My father stood in the doorway at the base of the steps, staring at me. I froze, instinctively awaiting the lash of parental control. He could clearly see I was up to something.
“Running away again are you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You know I never run away,” I said defensively, bristling inwardly and resolving that I would sneak off even if he tried to stop me from leaving. He should know I wasn’t running away, I was never gone too long when I went somewhere.
“Don’t you have a few more days of class before the holiday break?” he asked in a level tone.
“Two, and I haven’t missed a single day this year,” I countered.
“Okay Buggie, have fun, wherever you’re going,” he said peaceably, destroying any ideas I had that he might act like a parent and try to stop me. It bothered me more than it would have if he grounded me for the whole year.
I thumped down the stairs, puzzled and irritated as he paced into the kitchen whistling.
“Dad! What if I’m doing something stupid? Or going somewhere dangerous?” I demanded, attempting to bait him. It didn’t work.
“Bug,” he said between bites of fresh eggrolls in a bowl on the kitchen counter. “You’ve always been a free spirit. Sure, trying to keep up with you drove us insane at first, but then we realized how smart and safe you are and, well, there’s little point trying to stop you. There’s nothing here to hurt you, and I trust your choices.”
My irrational temper boiled within me. Most of the time, it felt like he didn’t care about me at all. I wanted to insult him, make him worry, or to get mad at me for a change. I was so sick of his passive attitude.
“I’m going to live with Mom,” I said spitefully, studying his reaction carefully to read how far I’d crossed the line. The way I said “Mom” could only have meant my real blood mother. The one who had left us for her career.
That gave him pause. He finished chewing, turned slowly to face me, and sighed. Then, he put both hands on my shoulders, kissed my forehead and said, “It’s your funeral, sweetie.”
He went chuckling and groaning into the living room. I glared at his back, furious.
I slammed the front door when I left, and skipped tacking up my dad’s grumpy pony, Grendel. Instead, I climbed a step stool and hoisted myself onto his bare back. I would have liked to have gone riding dramatically down the street, my speed matching my emotions, but Grendel refused to go any faster than a brisk walk. Pressing the stocky little horse to go faster would have ended with me losing a chunk of my leg. Grendel was even grouchier than I was.
Despite the sluggish pace, I arrived at the graveyard well before sun down. It was easier on my nerves to see the watery acreage in daylight, but awkward to ride past familiar faces visiting their dead relatives.
I said hello politely to my neighbor, my first grade school teacher, and the old flower shop lady before I reached the mausoleum. To my relief, not many people ventured to the center of the Graveyard. The tombs were too old and gloomy for a person to want to visit more than once in a lifetime. The grave keeper paid me little notice on his rounds, and I released Grendel to trim the hedges that were already missing quite a few flowers.
I scrambled through the badger hole, hastened by the angry growls of its tenants, probably rushing to bite off my fingers as punishment for trespassing through their home.
There was no reason to waste time hanging out inside the mausoleum, but I did light and set out the votive candles I brought, making a trail down into the spiraling stony depths. It still took a superhuman effort to deal with the fact that there were no windows or doors nearby that I could escape through if the whole thing began to crumble.
Humming and singing to myself, I tried to ignore the way the flickering candlelight created the illusion of movement on the stone-carved faces of the dead. When there were enough candles to brighten the nearest parts of the vast room, I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the handful of beautiful and handsome faces scattered among the many others. I wondered what had brought them to such a young end. They must have been some of the first settlers of Haven Valley. For a short while I was enchanted by the eerie mystery of it. My reverie lasted for only moments. It’s not like I was going to sit down and write poetry about it. I was claustrophobic.
Placing my last candle at the foot of the dead end, I double checked the empty tomb nook for spiders, and then slid inside.
The stone casket was still open the way I had left it, and dim, aquamarine light filled the packed dirt tunnel inside.
This time I refused to read the warnings on the walls, and rushed past them. When I came face to face with the strange dry pool, I couldn’t resist reading the message chiseled above it.
DON’T LET THEM IN.
My eyes flicked from the writing to the glowing pool.
I had reasons to go in. I planned to interrogate Rune, if he was still there, about this outer world of his, and learn as much as I could in the name of science. There was no reason a society as advanced as Haven Valley’s should be ignorant of the outside world. The message could mean anything, or even nothing. Seven hundred years was a long time.
My hand reached out and I cautiously touched the aqua water. It was chilly, but again, my hand was unharmed and dry. Even knowing it was unnecessary, I took a deep breath before climbing into the pool.
Again, like the first time, I felt nearly weightless, drifting slowly down to the bottom of the pool. My long, unbound hair floated around me, the only sensation that made me feel like I really was under water. I gazed at my fingertips and their strange blue green hue, wondering why my eyes didn’t sting from being open and why I didn’t feel the need to breathe. I was serene.
Raising my other hand, I stared with wonder at the lantern I held. It was still lit. The impossibility of it was curious and alluring. Instead of flame, it simply shined white, like a glare from the sun, no matter which angle I held it.
My coat floated up around me and I remembered that I was cold. It was my only discomfort. I slowly made my way to the other end of the pool and kicked off the bottom so I would drift to the surface.
When I climbed out, perfectly dry, my skin was cool and tingling. I smiled. It was so humbling to experience something unexplainable, a secret, like magic.
The scent of raw oxygen clung to me as I wandered away from the dry pool, feeling adventurous and exhilarated.
Since this was my second visit, I let myself enjoy the beauty of the crystal veins in the cave walls reflecting the twinkling turquoise light from the pool behind me, along with subtle accents of gold from my little round lantern.
I didn’t wander the way I had the night before. Instead, I took a direct path to the ledge where I’d met Rune below.
I crouched to my knees, wincing at the dull pain as I sat down on my bruised shin. My lantern’s light was no match for the broad darkness of this large cavern. I held it up, leaning carefully toward the edge of the drop. I watched faint shimmers of light on the reflective water’s surface below.
“Rune?” I called out in little more than a whisper.
There
was no answer but the gentle breeze that wended its way through the cave passages.
“Rune? Are you down there?” I said, louder. Silence was the last thing I’d considered. My pulse quickened. The idea that someone would be here to talk to had driven away my fears about returning to this place, but in the absence of company, I found myself afraid once again. I knew nothing about the outside of Haven Valley, so, naturally, dozens of horrific conclusions leapt to my mind. Being eaten alive by bloodthirsty, flying leeches was probably the best one. Being pulled into the floor by angry, long dead spirits was probably the worst, but everybody’s different.
“Rune?” I repeated. No reply but the slow dripping of water.
The darkness seemed to deepen before my searching eyes.
Biting my bottom lip, I scooted away from the ledge. When I crept back toward the aquamarine pool I was disappointed and scared in equal portions.
What was the point of sitting around alone in a big drafty cave, filled with who-knows-what? Rune’s friends must have found him and left, or perhaps I had imagined him entirely.
I decided in that moment that if I was going to come back here, it would be with my friends or not at all.
When I was halfway between the ledge and the pool, I heard it: the faint murmur of a voice. Goosebumps stood up on my skin. It sounded like a real haunting.
I was about ready to make a dash for the pool to flee from the sheer creepiness of it when I heard the voice say my name. How could I not be afraid in that dark strange place? In spite of my instincts, I hurried back to the ledge, following the sound.
“Katelyn,” he said weakly. “The ghost. I dreamed she was here. I dreamed it.”
“Rune?” I ventured, kneeling again at the edge of the cliff. “Is that you?”
“Katelyn the Ghost? Are you really there?” His voice sounded exhausted, strained.
“I’m here, and I already told you I’m not a ghost,” I replied, already relieved to be talking to my link to the outside world.
Haven (War of the Princes) Page 5
