strong for an old lady.
"I, however, am not asking you to be a hero; I'm merely asking you to accept who you are, who you were created to be. Okay, lecture finished." She released him from her grip. "Let me give you some proof. Or would you rather me leave you to confront the horde of Broken that is undoubtedly heading to your front door as we speak? Should we abandon Panch, your friend," she pointed to Link's bedroom, "in Neverworld, simply because you refuse to accept the true nature of things?"
Link felt his anger drain.
"Bring me the photos you had developed," Mrs. Kidacki said.
Link did a double take. "How'd you know about the photos?"
Mrs. Kidacki pushed the matter aside. "It's my job to know, Lincoln. Now please do as I say and bring them to me."
37
Mom?
Mrs. Kidacki shuffled through the first few photos without pausing. Her bony fingers moved with the skillful dexterity of a Vegas card dealer. Link took her inability to find the proof in the first several photos as a good omen and began outlining his I-told-you-this-was-all-a-big-misunderstanding speech when she suddenly found what she was looking for.
"Here it is!" Mrs. Kidacki said. She separated the photo from the rest and inspected it closely. Then she placed the other photos down on the end table and handed Link the incriminating evidence. "There you go, Lincoln. Is that proof enough?" She leaned back, a knowing smile on her face. "Tell me. What do you see?"
Link took the photo and returned her smile. "This is one of those blurry ones. You can't see anything because it's all hazy in front. See?" He held up the photo and said, "This isn't proof. It doesn't tell me anything."
When Mrs. Kidacki placed her spindly hand upon Link's shoulder, he felt a jolt of electricity surge through him. It didn't hurt, but his whole body tingled. "Lincoln Amoeba Hartkins," Mrs. Kidacki said, "at some point you must learn to look deeper. The surface of all things is but a lie told to the gullible and the ignorant. You must focus your attention beyond the blur. You must feel the essence of the picture."
Link sighed. Then he returned his attention to the photograph. This time he concentrated on looking beyond the blurring in the foreground to what lay beneath. Truthfully, he had no idea how to 'feel' a picture, but he figured he should at least appear as though he were trying.
Then, as if a dark veil lifted, his eyes found the necessary lens. For the first time, he truly saw the picture, the proof that Mrs. Kidacki had told him he'd find, the proof that the camera was meant to be his.
Behind the glossy grey blur, behind the swirls of distorted color, Link saw a woman. She was sitting on a park bench. Immediately familiar to Link, the woman in the picture was waving to a small boy, who was picking flowers by a murky duck pond.
"Hey, Link," Celia said. "Isn't that you? Ahh, you were so cute as a kid. Who's that woman you're with?"
"It's my mom."
38
A Journal
The small group of friends stood in a circle around the island countertop. Link felt a renewed sense of urgency. The mountainous burden of responsibility continued to build, but all he could think about was how badly he'd failed Panch. Impatient with the idle chatter of planning, he finally spoke up. "So what do we do?"
"There's not much written about the camera," Mrs. Kidacki said. "All we have are fragments from a few legends passed down from generation to generation. Tom has recorded the more prevalent ones, but I'm afraid even those only imply that it actually exists. Nothing speaks of it directly. It is impossible to know for certain how it works."
Link suddenly noticed that Ayden was no longer in the room. "Has anyone seen Ayden?" When it was clear nobody had witnessed his little brother leave, Link grew concerned.
"Maybe he went downstairs to check on Panch," Celia offered.
Link hurried to the top of the stairs and called down, "Ayden? Are you down there?" When there was no response, his heart fluttered.
Like a finely tuned military detachment, each member of the group volunteered to check a different portion of the house then quickly scattered.
Link still thought his bedroom was the most likely place Ayden would have gone. So, swallowing his trepidation about seeing his mangled friend, he once again approached the stairs.
Upon reaching the stairs to his room, he noticed Tom from the corner of his eye. Instead of searching for Ayden as he had promised he would, Tom was holding the camera up to the light and examining it. Even though Tom had arguably saved Link's life by releasing Chomper into the parking lot, something about the way he ogled the camera bothered him. "What are you doing?"
Surprised, Tom's fleeting look of guilt quickly evaporated into his usual self-confident composure. "Just wanted to have a look, that's all. This is like the Holy Grail of our times, yet here it is, sitting in my hands. I'm holding one of the most sought-after items in the spiritual realm. Amazing, isn't it? Simply amazing."
"A-hem," Link tried to tactfully pull Tom out of his reverie. He didn't want to offend him. At this point he could ill afford to lose anyone who might be able to help.
"Ah, yes, sorry. Here you are." Tom held out the camera, but when it came time to let go, he hesitated. As if embarrassed by his own reaction, he casually attempted to change the topic. "Any luck finding your brother?"
Link eyed him suspiciously. "If I'd found him, he'd be with me, wouldn't he?"
"Oh, I suppose he would. Well, I'd better go help with the search then. How about I check upstairs?"
Link watched him go before heading down to his room. He scoured his room while at the same time trying to detach himself from the gruesome nature of the scene around him.
Blood splatters covered the walls and the white linens on his bed. Despite the havoc the creature had wreaked, Panch remained peacefully resting. If it weren't for all the blood, Link might have believed his friend was merely sleeping.
Everything else in the room appeared unaltered since the attack.
"Ayden!" Link called, desperately hoping for a response. "Ayden, are you down here?" He strained to listen, but Panch's staggered breathing was the only response. It didn't add up. Ayden wasn't the sort of kid who wandered off, especially after all that had happened in the past week.
"Found him!" Celia called. "He's safe! He's up here."
If Link could hear her from his bedroom ventilation shaft, they must be up in the attic. He walked over to the heating vent and called up, "Be right there."
39
A Pissed-off Polar Bear
By the time Link arrived in the attic, everyone else was there. Celia and Tom crowded around Ayden, asking him questions. Though Ayden appeared to be fine, Link ran over and squeezed him anyway. "What were you thinking? Don't wander off without telling someone. You could've been hurt!"
Ayden usually responded to a scolding with contrition, tears even. He was a tough kid, as evidenced by his ability to deal with the monsters that threatened him at the dinner table, but he was very sensitive. In this case, however, Ayden didn't appear the least bit sorry for wandering off. Instead, his face glowed with the sweet radiance of some unknown victory. Had he smiled any wider, it might have looked unnatural. In his hands, Ayden held a leather-bound journal. "Mommy wite dis," he said.
Link recognized the journal immediately. It contained his mother's most personal thoughts, her private confessions. Link had known for a long time that his mother had kept diaries, but he had decided never to read them. He didn't want to risk reading something that would tarnish her memory. Painfully aware of everyone's stare, Link wrestled with what he should do.
Both Celia and Tom appeared perplexed as to why the journals would be of any assistance and were clearly beginning to grow impatient with the unnecessary delay.
Only Mrs. Kidacki seemed to understand the full extent of Link's internal struggle. "Tom, Celia, why don't you take our little nomad downstairs? Lincoln and I need a few minutes alone."
Celia nodded. She took Ayden's hand and said, "Come on, cutie. How about w
e play another round of Candy Land? You can't possibly win every time. Nobody's that lucky, not even you."
Ayden grinned and eagerly followed her out of the room. When he noticed that Tom was not following them, he said, "You pway, too?"
Tom looked with apprehension at his grandmother, who nodded her approval. "Go on, Tom. We'll be fine. Just be on the lookout for anything strange. It won't take long for them to figure out what has happened. We both know the Broken will return. And when they do, the camera must be long gone."
Tom turned to Ayden and said, "Go ahead and set up a game for three." Once Celia and Ayden were out of earshot, he turned back. "I don't like it, Nana. I think we need to leave now. It's not safe here. I bet this house is crawling with Skias."
"You mean there could be more Skias here? That would certainly explain the faces and all the strange voices."
"What faces?" Tom said, suddenly troubled. "What are you talking about?"
"Ever since we moved in," Link continued, "there's been something strange about the mirror in the medicine cabinet. But after the Broken attacked Panch, I went up to the bathroom to get some antiseptic for his cuts. The mirror in the cabinet started to make faces at me, and then it knocked me on the head. I assumed I was imagining things. I mean seriously, how does a door just shoot out like that?"
Tom shrugged. "It might be a Skia. But if it's already trapped inside the glass, it will stay there so long as nobody breaks the mirror. Besides, most Skias are harmless. It's the
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