Wood Sprites - eARC

by Wen Spencer

  Jillian tied off the loose ends. “Then we found out he’d scrubbed the memory of the printer.”

  “So you told the FBI.”

  “No, that wasn’t us.” Jillian lied. “We think it was Mr. Howe. We’ve been dropping hints to all our teachers over the last week and a half but we didn’t think any of them took us seriously.”

  Louise wrapped up the story in a neat bow. “That’s what we were debating this morning: what to do since no one seemed to believe us.”

  And he believed it. Tristan’s eyes widened as he calculated the vectors of their made-up activities. Homeroom. Art. Music. Library. French. Math. In the course of a week, they had over a dozen teachers. Any of them knew Mr. Kessler well enough to make the leap that Tristan had failed to make.

  Of course that left the question of how did Mr. Kessler know that he had to flee?

  30: CURTAIN OPENS

  “Are they here yet?” Jillian whispered as Louise checked her video screens.

  “No.” Louise could see the two empty seats beside Nikola. Aunt Kitty hadn’t been able to change her business meeting in California when the date of the play had been moved. The babies desperately wanted to see the play, so the twins used Aunt Kitty’s ticket for Nikola. Louise had settled him into the seat next to Zahara’s little brother and explained to Zahara’s mother that their nanny-bot was going to film everything for their aunt. They’d spent dinner break stuffing Joy with tuna fish sandwiches. Last Louise had checked, the baby dragon was deep asleep in Nikola’s storage chamber.

  The babies seemed fine, but where were their Mom and Dad?

  Louise scanned the crowd filtering in through the doors at the back of the theater. Their parents were driving into the city so that they wouldn’t have to brave the subway after the play and the celebratory dinner. Their mother hadn’t been able to get off work early but promised to be there well before the curtain went up. Anything could be holding them up, from their mother’s boss wanting “one more minute” of her time to them running into a talkative parent in the lobby.

  The sense that everything was about to go horribly wrong echoed through Louise, making her focus tightly on the control board. Between the large sets needing to be lowered from the ceiling, four of the cast members on flying wires, and a sword fight, there was so much that could go wrong. The FBI still hadn’t found Mr. Kessler but Louise wasn’t sure that he was still alive.

  The clock on Louise’s console indicated that it was nearly time to cue the overture music. She scanned her sound levels, made sure everything was reset back to base. She moved her finger to the play button and waited for the time to change.

  “I wish they had gotten front seats.” Jillian bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. “I hope they come in so late that they end up standing in the back.”

  Louise glanced at Jillian, surprised. Jillian had never cared before where their parents sat. She supposed it was because this was the first time that Jillian was playing the hero instead of the villain. “They’ll be able to see more of the stage. If they’re right up front, they might miss something you do because they’re looking at Elle or Iggie.”

  Jillian gave her the little frown that said she knew full well that Louise was trying to cheer her up.

  The clock hit start time and Louise tapped the play button and clicked her first timer to start the countdown. The overture started with the upbeat “To Neverland” song that Louise had written for the production. The rustle of people finding their seats grew louder. Louise started to slowly dim the house lights and bringing up the curtain lights. There was a gasp from all the other kids as they realized it was time.

  “Jillian!” Mr. Howe whispered loudly and waved at Jillian to come get into the flying harness.

  Jillian flung her arms around Louise.

  The fear that had been echoing faintly leapt forward and Louise clung hard to her twin, suddenly afraid. “Be careful.”

  Jillian laughed nervously. “What could possibly happen? It’s not like I’m going to be flying around twenty feet above…ow!”

  Louise had pulled Jillian’s hair hard enough to hurt. “I’m serious.” She considered adding that she had a bad feeling but decided that Jillian was already nervous enough. “Just be careful.”

  “Jillian!” Mr. Howe hissed louder.

  Jillian squeezed once and then darted away.

  The seats beside Nikola stayed empty. The rustle from the audience died to an expectant hush. The overture ran five minutes and three seconds. At a minute and a half, Louise killed the house lights completely. Where were their parents?

  Louise watched as everyone scurried into place, hands over the keys of her console, as her timer counted down. Giselle and Renata in a two-person dog suit were sprawled out in the middle of the Darling nursery floor. They were jointly playing the nanny dog, Nana. Carlos and Darius. who played the Darling boys, jittered beside Louise. Elle stood poised as Wendy, no nerves showing. Across the stage, Ava waited in the wings. She looked nearly adult in Mrs. Darling’s evening dress and high heels, wringing her hands in nervousness.

  Flying harness hooked up, Jillian bounded from the wings to the nursery window stage-center and stepped through to the back of the set.

  Everyone in place. Louise spared another glance at the monitor on the now darkened theater. Had their parents slipped in after she dimmed down the lights? She couldn’t make out Nikola to check the empty seats beside him.

  Louise tensed as the timer counted down the last few moments of music and, at zero, she danced her fingers over the console, opening up the curtains, bringing up the spotlight on Nana, and hitting the sound effect of the nursery clock chiming nine o’clock.

  Nana leapt up and the play was officially started. Louise took a deep breath. It felt like she had started a massive boulder rolling and now had to watch it trundle forward, too large to be safely stopped. She waited with her hands poised over the control panel. Onstage, Mr. and Mrs. Darling tucked their children in, happy despite the fact they were poor and struggling. In a few minutes, they would leave for a rare evening out, thinking their children were safe in bed, but they would be wrong. A powerful stranger had been watching from the distance, jealous of what they had. He was about to swoop in and steal away the Darlings’ happiness for his own selfish gain. Blind to the danger, the children wouldn’t even understand enough to fight their abduction.

  Louise grew aware of someone on her right, watching her, not the play. She spared a glance. Tristan stood beside her in his Lost Boy costume. He had an odd stunned look on his face, like someone had just told him bad news and he wasn’t sure how to react to it.

  Louise’s stomach churned sickeningly. What did he know? All afternoon she had felt as though something horrible was going to happen. Had something happened with Mr. Kessler? It had been over a week and the police hadn’t found any trace of him after he fled the school.

  Louise realized that the next section of play was about to begin, and she needed to focus. Mrs. Darling was turning off the nursery’s lamps, leaving on only dim night-lights. An earlier glimpse of Peter Pan at the window, though, had filled Mrs. Darling with fear for her children. Louise felt the trembling echo of that unease.

  “Dear night-lights that protect my sleeping babes,” Mrs. Darling spoke her last line before her children flew away from their safe little house. “Burn clear and steadfast tonight.”

  And then Mrs. Darling was gone, exiting stage right, disappearing into the darkness. Louise felt the burn of tears suddenly and blinked rapidly. Why was she crying?

  * * *

  Act One ended with Peter and the Darling children flying out the nursery window and thunderous applause.

  Louise closed the curtains as she dimmed the lights and cued the intermission music. Tapping her timer, she sent the walls of the nursery up into the rafters and brought the forests of Neverland down. “Get the beds off stage,” she whispered once she stopped moving the big sets around. “Move the rocks on.”

 
; A square of light in the back of the darkened theater caught her attention. For a moment, the figure of a man in uniform stood there, outlined in brilliance from the lobby. Was that a police officer?

  She brought up the house lights slightly to verify that it was a policeman in blue, cap on his head. What were the police doing here?

  Principal Wiley had noticed the lights go up and glanced about in confusion and spotted the officer. He hurried over to the policeman and the two exchanged greetings. The officer said something and Principal Wiley reacted with visible shock and dismay. Hand over mouth, he looked toward the stage.

  Louise whimpered. She’d never seen an adult look so distraught. It was terrifying; what could have caused Principal Wiley to look that way?

  “Louise!” Mr. Howe murmured. “The music ended.”

  She lowered the house lights. Just as the theater went dark, the back doors opened again, highlighting that the police officer and principal were leaving together.

  * * *

  Something had happened. Something horrible. Something related to the play or someone in the play.

  She took out her phone and typed in a text with shaking hands. “Is Mom and Dad with you?”

  “No.” Nikola responded. “They never showed up.”

  She dialed her mother. After six rings, the phone went to voicemail. Her father’s phone simply stated that the user couldn’t be reached. What did that mean? She tried her mother again, but it went straight to voicemail.

  “Louise! The act is ending!” Mr. Howe paused with his fingers over the console, obviously wanting to push buttons, but not sure which ones. “Close the curtain!”

  “Yes, I’m getting it.” She tucked away her phone and stabbed the correct button. As the wall of curtains rolled shut, she triggered the intermission music. What else? What was she supposed to do? Everyone was off stage, waiting for the big backdrop of the mermaid lagoon to be lowered from the rafters. She used the sliders to carefully set them into place and then flicked on the holographic projectors, covering the stage with rolling surf.

  Jillian was across the stage, helping to move Marooner’s Rock into place, watching her with worry. “What?” Jillian mouthed.

  “Later.” Louise motioned for her focus on the play. She could barely think past the flood of worry. One of them had to stay clearheaded. Why weren’t their parents answering their phones? Why hadn’t they texted to say why they were late? Why were the police here? What had the cop told Principal Wiley?

  The timer on the intermission music was nearly over.

  She triggered the holograph of the mermaid perched on the rock, and opened the curtains back up. Her duties fulfilled, she pulled her phone back out.

  She couldn’t bring up her father’s location. His phone had to be dead for nothing to register. She checked the GPS on her mother’s phone. It gave an address Louise didn’t recognize. As she zoomed in tight on the map, she gasped. It was a hospital. “Oh, no. No.”

  What should she do? Was that why the policeman was here? Because their parents were in an accident and had been taken to a hospital?

  * * *

  The rest of the play was a blur. The massive boulder rolled on, crushing her underneath it. And then the play was over and whatever was coming next was sweeping toward them. The applause was loud and warm but Louise felt hollow and that the sound was echoing through her. Zahara pulled her out onto the stage for the bow and Jillian caught her hand and squeezed it tight. Jillian was shimmering with the excitement of being the star. Louise wanted to protect Jillian from the looming disaster, but she also wanted someone to lean on, to be strong.

  Everyone poured down into the audience to be claimed by their parents.

  Out of the crowd of adults came Principal Wiley, the policeman and Miss Hamilton. Tears were streaming down Miss Hamilton’s face.

  Jillian looked up at the adults and caught Louise’s hand like a lifeline. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh!” Miss Hamilton cried. “Oh, girls!”

  She dropped to her knees in front of them and gathered them into her arms. Her lilac perfume was overpoweringly sweet.

  “What’s wrong?” Jillian shouted.

  “You’re scaring us.” Louise tried to push Miss Hamilton back. She wanted someone to cling to, someone to be strong for both her and Jillian, not this weeping person that mistook weakness for comforting.

  The police officer crouched down beside them. He was big and scary but at least he wasn’t crying. “I’m afraid your mommy and daddy were in a really bad accident. Their car was hit by a big truck.”

  Jillian started to wail.

  Louise reached for the police officer and caught tight to his shirt. “Are—are they—are they dead?”

  “No!” Jillian howled. “No!”

  The officer flinched at Jillian’s cry but nodded solemnly. Louise pulled Jillian between them and clung to his strength. Jillian burrowed tight into Louise, wailing, refusing to take comfort from the man.

  Principal Wiley said something about going to the office and pulling their records to call their emergency contact. “Your grandmother is on her way. She was at a charity event nearby.”

  “We don’t have…” Louise started to say that they didn’t have a grandmother and then remembered that they did. “What?”

  “Here she is now.” Principal Wiley beckoned to someone at the lobby doors.

  And like something out of a nightmare, Anna Desmarais came sweeping down the center aisle, tall and regal as a queen. She wore a black cocktail dress and diamonds at her neck.

  Louise clung tighter to the officer against the flood of impossibility that was about to sweep them away from everything they knew. “Aunt Kitty is our emergency contact.”

  Principal Wiley shook his head. “According to your records, Kitty Kennedy is a family friend. We needed to call an actual relative.”

  Louise whimpered and looked to Jillian. She wanted Jillian to stop crying; her twin was so much better at explaining.

  “Oh, you poor babies.” Anna sunk down and opened her arms. “Yes, I know, it hurts so bad. Come here, ladybug.”

  Jillian unwrapped from Louise to let herself be coaxed into the woman’s embrace. Louise stood feeling like she would collapse.

  “We’ll get the girls’ things from their locker.” Principal Wiley tapped Miss Hamilton’s shoulder and pointed toward the hallway.

  Louise could only whimper as he led away the only person they knew in the room, leaving them alone with strangers.

  31: LOST IN DARKNESS

  There was a sleek black limo parked in the schoolbus lane outside the school. It had rained sometime during the play and the night gleamed wet and dangerous. A tall driver in a black suit got out as they approached and opened the back doors.

  All the warnings to not get into cars with strangers played through Louise’s mind.

  Louise glanced at the police officer and Principal Wiley watching, letting them be taken. They couldn’t see the wrongness of this. They knew nothing about Esme’s warnings.

  She kept a firm hold on Nikola who seemed to be stumbling through the same grief that she was feeling. There had been no chance to check to see if Joy was still asleep in Tesla’s storage bin or if the baby dragon had woken up and gone in search of food. “We’ll get in first.”

  Louise pretended to struggle with getting Nikola into the limo, praying that Jillian was coherent enough to delay Anna. She cracked the top of the storage chamber and Joy peered up at her, nearly vibrating with nervousness.

  “Stay.” She used Tesla’s command, knowing that if she were overheard, the adults would assume she was talking to the nannybot. She fished a handful of jawbreakers out of her pocket and poured them in with Joy and hurriedly closed the lid.

  The need for distraction, though, had broken what little control Jillian might have had. Wailing, she needed to be lifted into the car.

  * * *

  Louise knew that Esme’s family was crazy rich; it was another thing t
o drive up to a mansion larger than their school and spill out of the limo into a foyer that was all polished marble, gleam gold leaf and sparkling crystal.

  Their footsteps echoed through vast empty areas as they made their way through the house to a second floor bedroom.

  “This is Esme’s old room.” Anna moved through the large room, flicking on lights. It was a great cave of a room with a twenty-foot ceiling. At one time it had been decorated in the same tween princess-style as Elle’s bedroom. Apparently it was the set of furniture that rich people bought their little girls. In the Pondwater’s case, it was an effort to mold their daughter into a demure princess. Whatever reason moved Anna to purchase the furniture, it obviously had been a complete failure. Every piece had been attacked, defiled, and remodeled by someone who was as whimsical as she was angry.

  The four-poster bed had been sprayed high-gloss lacquer black and fitted in what looked like a steampunk elevator cage so it could be raised up to a loft area. The other pieces had also been sprayed black, trimmed with silver, and random gears and cogs added. The mirrored vanity had been merged with obscure antique electronics so it looked like a control console of an ancient spacecraft. One wall was floor-to-ceiling bookcases with a tall library ladder on a brass rail. Another wall had faux windows installed and painted so they seemed like they were looking out over eighteenth-century Paris with airships drifting past a half-built Eiffel Tower. There was no sign of real windows, as if Esme had drywalled over them. An odd assortment of furniture crowded the room from half-dissembled pinball machines to model airships strung from the ceiling.

  “You’ll have to share Esme’s bedroom tonight.” Anna opened a door and turned on another light, revealing a Jack and Jill bathroom that had been spared the steampunk makeover. “Lain’s bedroom is connected through here, but it’s empty. Lain moved all her things to Elfhome, but Esme just walked away from everything.”