Her heart picked up its paced and thumped against her ribs as she gazed longer into his eyes. Her lungs filled with air and exhaled faster and faster trying to keep pace with her quickening heart. Her face burned against his cool hands. The black around his eyes was like darkness between stars and his penetrating orbs were the brightest in that sky.
“We may not come back,” she managed in a parched whisper.
“Sounds like our world won’t either if we don’t go.” He dropped his hands, stood up on the table, and spoke to the others. “Will you come?”
Lance stood up and easily leapt up onto the table, placing himself behind Max like a true warrior. His face seemed stronger and wiser than before.
“I’ll go,” he said.
Alice smiled and made a wild, excited noise. She leapt up next to Lance.
“Me too!”
Clare stood and gazed up at her brave friends in awe. How brave and glorious they looked with the rain behind them, all their faces set and determined.
“I have to stay,” Jeff said from behind Clare. “An earthling who can watch over the others must hold the ground. I don’t understand it entirely, but it says so right here.” He pointed to the book. “This earthling tried to come back once, but his wife did not call to him. She had left him, he wrote. He could have used the Golden Daughter’s power to return, but chose to stay when he saw how strong the corruption and decay was. He wrote that ‘sometimes a sacrifice must be given.’ Besides,” he smiled. “This way at least I can tell my kids about you all.”
“But we could be gone for days or months,” Clare said.
She had to warn them time didn’t stop here when one crossed over in Revary. They would be missed no doubt.
“You could miss school, even graduation. Your lives could be ruined.”
“The book says we’ll have powers there, right?” Alice asked. “Maybe we can turn back some time like the oracle did for you. Or maybe we can get him to help us.”
Clare snorted. “That’s a risk.”
“Our world is at risk,” Jeff reminded her. “In some ways we may not know.”
“Suppose we all get there and we have these powers,” Alice said at length. “How do we even know where to start?”
Clare smiled. They would go with her. “We go to the Celestial Plane and the Golden Ruler for our mission.”
Chapter 17
The Earthling Warriors
Sometimes cowardice can be mistaken for bravery. A man running from battle is seen as a deserter. Or a man who sees that retreat is necessary and runs alone without taking the others with him, he too is a coward. But on the rare occasion, one who runs without speaking up is brave. She made it clear to the others that no goodbyes were to be said, no clues to leaving—nothing. Simply pack their LARPing gear and be gone the next weekend. It was a frightening conversation, but she had faith they would be able to return with little to no time missing.
The week they waited was torture, but she insisted they all continue school as if they were just going away for the weekend. After all, that’s exactly what it was, right?
“We may be back and they’ll never notice we were gone,” she reasoned.
At work, Heather watched Clare moved around the store with an eagle eye that was tinted with understanding.
“Do you dream, Clare?” she asked in a somewhat mysterious voice. “Dreams are the gateways to other passages in our minds we cannot access in waking hours. The mind is stronger than you know. So strong that we cannot control it. Sometimes we must let it be in order for it to work to its full potential.”
Clare shrugged and continued to line up the metallic Zodiac necklaces. “Yeah, I dream. Usually stupid stuff. I hope that’s not my mind reaching its maximum potential because some of it is crazy.”
Heather breathed slowly and deeply as she walked around the counter to stand next to Clare. “The things you see do not always make sense because they are not what you think. They are not clear because you are meant to ponder them. What do they mean?”
“I thought Flynn said dwelling on dreams was crazy,” she teased her boss.
A tired smile stretched Heather’s aging face. “It depends on what you want from the dream. Is it some entity breaking into your mind to show you a path to love and fortune?”
Clare scoffed. “If only it were that simple.”
“Exactly. People abuse the importance of dreams that way. All they want to know is love and fortune. They don’t know what’s important so they disregard the silly dreams. How do you think King Nebuchadnezzar felt when he dreamed of undead cows devouring his fat live ones?”
Clare raked her brain for a memory of Sunday school. “I think he was scared?”
Heather nodded slowly. “Because he knew that dreams are important. I dream and I see people in other realities. Sometimes it’s too frightening to watch, but I know if I don’t, someone in that world will be hurt. In my waking dreams, I protect them. Don’t spoil the dreams, Clare.” She stroked her hand gently through Clare’s hair. “Your dreams are great because you can see them. Make them real.”
“What?”
Clare watched Heather’s back as she drifted slowly into the storage room. Everything she had said came in a wispy, far away voice. Like she was speaking in a dream. Heather had always been strange, but this went a little beyond that. Was she trying to warn Clare that all her adventures had been a dream?
She came out of the back holding an armload of trinkets and began setting them up in the window. One she set down on a stool while she handled the others. Clare looked over at it as it had caught her eye in the light. It was a tiny bottle on a necklace. Inside the little glass was a rolled up piece of paper. It looked familiar and made her stomach clench like she’d forgotten something very important.
On the Friday before they were all to meet, Clare visited Professor LeGrand one last time. She knocked and knocked on his office door, but no one answered. She was cupping her hands around her eyes and peering in when a teacher behind her tapped her shoulder.
“Looking for something to steal, girl?” It was the substitute chemistry teacher from another class. His otherworldly mustache twitched as he glared down at her through heavy lidded eyes.
“I have something to return to him,” she blurted out, spinning around. “Where’s Professor LeGrand?”
“Out for personal reasons,” he said through his bristling hairs. “At his home, I believe.”
With the power of computers and Jeff, Clare was able to look up his home address easily.
“It’s a little weird going to a teacher’s house, don’t you think?” he asked as he handed her a print out of the map.
“I have to see him one last time before we embark on our biggest quest,” she sighed. “I owe him that.”
She took the book and biked down the streets, careful to avoid the bushes and barriers that the neighborhood police normally loomed behind. The townhouse LeGrand lived in was old, shabby, and not in a very good part of town. But he had taken pains to enchant the entryway. Little trees and plants in pots lined the sidewalk and stood guard at either side of his door. A small suit of armor also stood at attention near the left side. A wooden sign that looked like it had been purchased at a Renaissance festival read “Small children will be given as sacrifices to the dragon if left unattended.”
If Clare had never met Greylheim and his fiery jaws, this would have been humorous. She could not imagine anyone giving children to a dragon now. She could also not imagine any mother, particularly a queen, sacrificing her only son. But things happen.
She knocked and realized there was a violin being played in the top floor. After a few moments, an older woman with cleaning gloves and booties on opened the door. She looked like she could have been cheerful if she’d only smile, but her face seemed frozen in a constant worried expression.
“Is Alexander here?” Clare asked tentatively. She didn’t know what this old woman must think of a girl, obviously a high school student, c
oming to a teacher’s house during school hours.
“Yes.” The woman continued to stare at her.
“Um.” Clare pulled the book out of her pocket to show the woman. “I have to return something to him.”
“I will give it to him,” she said flatly.
Clare pulled it back and held it to her chest. “Can I give it to him myself?”
“No. He is working. He says he will fire me if I disturb him.”
She’d have to leave a note and give it to him later. “Never mind. I have to go anyway.”
Deciding to leave the book and a note tucked inside with Jeff, they all met at the quarry Friday night rather than Saturday morning. In the distance, the loons called to each other. Since she was waiting down by the shore, Clare could look up to see the moon peeking through the thick evergreens thirty feet above her on a rocky face. The stars were bright and the moon was full. The water in the lake was so still that the reflection was perfect. An exact mirror image.
Slowly, her friends started to arrive with the first being Jeff. Clare’s heart did a quick flutter in her chest. She chided it like a bad child for overreacting.
She was the only one in costume.
“I read in the book that Revary will place earthlings in roles,” Jeff explained when Clare asked them why they were not dressed. “The one who wrote this said that every time he went across into Revary, he went in his earthling clothes and they changed according to his adventure or to what he decided to be. It also determined his abilities.”
That reminded Clare of her and Stella’s first adventure ever. She was always the lowly ranger. Not powerless, but not entirely powerful either.
“That makes sense,” she said.
“We wanted to do it like this just in case,” Lance said.
Clare hadn’t read that, but then again, she hadn’t read too much of the book. All she knew from it was that particular earthling had failed and now they were to deal with the consequences. She was not going to fail.
“Thanks for electing to stay behind again, Jeff,” she said, hugging him. “Either we’ll be right back or we’ll see you later.”
Jeff pushed his glasses up his nose. “I think you can make it happen however you want. Just be careful. I don’t know if you can die there or not.”
“Jeff!” Clare shouted with a smile. “Don’t scare my people away.” She faced them all. “When we get back, let’s meet up in the library to study for midterms. They are on Monday, after all. What do you say?”
Alice smiled. Anything that had to do with libraries and books was fine with her. Lance mumbled something about football practice, but then agreed when Max elbowed him sharply. They all looked to Clare, waiting for her cue. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say in this situation? She’d never really thought of herself as the leader, but really that’s what she may have been. She wasn’t sure.
“I have no words,” she sighed. “Shall we go?”
“Lead the way,” Max said softly to her. It made her grin.
She led them to a shorter rock face that jutted out over the lake. Down below, a loon cried a farewell. She looked up at the moon and the stars. They would change any moment now to sun and clouds.
“We jump,” she said. “May want to hold your breath.”
Standing on the edge, imagining the life she was leaving behind, she leapt without one more thought. Behind her, she heard deep inhales and the sounds of rubber soles pushing off of rock. She closed her eyes as they broke through the water. She only heard two splashes.
Back in the neighborhood, Alexander stopped playing his violin and looked out the window. Perhaps he should not have called out of class that day. He ran his hand through his long hair and sighed again. It began to rain quietly and drown out the news on the TV downstairs. His cleaning lady liked to leave it running while she went about her tasks. Something about government lies being unearthed, missile strikes, and murder was on. After that would come mindless commercials about things you didn’t need to buy and how they could make you lazier. Then cliché programs with laugh tracks in case you didn’t know when you were supposed to chuckle at the jokes.
Bringing his violin up to his chin again, Alexander began to play and the tears on his face matched the rain outside in silence.
Chapter 18
Captain of the Sky Plane
Lance landed on something softer than he had ever felt before. It was feathery and yet like wind. He had landed on his back and Max smashed down on him with a grunting apology. The air all around them was fresh and open. They had to adjust their breathing to the thinner air, but found it smelled sweet. The sun was eye-level with them, but did not have the glow as if it were setting. It looked to be late morning.
“Look at the sun,” Max said as he stood up. “It’s all cracked or something.”
Lance shaded his eyes and realized he was now wearing what looked like a long Victorian era navy costume complete with a white, wide-sleeved coat, tight breaches, shiny boots, and what he would call a pirate hat. He laughed and looked down at himself. On his right arm was a kind of steam-powered metallic glove.
“What’s that do?” Max asked.
Lance laughed when he saw his friend. He was also rather Victorian-looking with a top hat and all black clothes. Around his neck was a sigil of some kind.
“Are you an arcanist?” Lance asked. “I think that’s what that symbol means.”
“Forget the clothes!” Max cried and dashed to Lance’s side. “We’re on the clouds!”
Sure enough, looking around, the boys saw they were standing on golden, fluffy clouds like it were a hard marble floor. In the distance, they saw a mid-1900s looking village with steam reactors puffing fog up and small airships buzzing around it like excited butterflies.
“Clare never mentioned this place,” Lance said.
Just then, what could only be the top mast and crow’s nest of a sail boat, burst through the clouds and knocked them onto it. Lance held onto the wooden mast and grabbed Max before he was swept away. They slipped and fell down into the crow’s nest and then looked down as the clouds cleared away with a forceful wind.
Below was a huge sailboat with odd creatures working the lines and more mysterious steam contraptions. Gauges showed chemical workings and glows, tanks of hot water bubbled, pipes lined all the walls and rails and clockwork gears ground on the sides. On the side of the great ship was a little long boat with a zeppelin top, no doubt for quick excursions or getaways. Everyone on the ship was dressed in similar, strange Victorian-style clothes. But they were not people.
Every creature below was some kind of bipedal cross between a humanoid form and animal. There were very tiny mouse people, larger cat-types, and even a man covered in tiny feathers with wings and tail feathers.
Standing at the helm was a tall and slender vixen humanoid. She was dressed like a ship’s captain, complete with overly-large hat and feather, her white gloved hands clasped behind her as she snapped orders to her men. With a shout from one dog humanoid, she looked up and spotted Max and Lance spying from their accidental perch. She hissed and ordered them to be brought down immediately.
“Uh-oh,” Max gasped as angry squirrel men ran up the masts at them, bushy tails furiously twitching.
The boys raised their hands above their heads as swords and strange steam-powered guns were shoved in their faces.
“Electric hand,” one squirrel said to the others.
Lance glanced at his right arm and saw he had somehow activated webs of electricity between his fingers. With the first attempt, he shut them off.
“Whoa.” He gaped at his own efforts. Then he said to the squirrels, “Hey, guys, we got here by mistake, okay? Your ship cut through the cloud!”
A dozen set of nervous eyes twitched back and forth. “Accident?” one whispered with a whistle through his buck teeth.
“No accident!” the first shouted, brandishing his scimitar. “You cannot come to the Sky Plane by accident. The gate is ev
er moving and never in the same place. Speak the truth!”
“We are!” Max shouted as the scimitar was raised up. “We came here. We’re earthlings.”
“Max!” Lance shouted, smacking him. “Clare said not everyone in Revary is friendly to earthlings.”
The squirrels didn’t seem dangerous at the mention. In fact, they all exchanged looks and shrugs.
“We don’t know earthlings,” the first said. “We only know the Sky Plane and our miraculous technologies!”
“Miraculous!” the others chorused in happy agreement. “We would be nothing without our inventions.”
“The captain will know. Come with us.” The leader sheathed his scimitar.
The boys didn’t put up a fight. They climbed down, flanked by a dozen of the squirrels, and were lead at scimitar point to the captain who had an intense frown pulling her animal face down. She had thick eyelashes and beautiful almond-shaped, golden eyes. She drew herself up. She was taller than even Lance. Her voice was low and quick as she spoke with a thick, high-class English accent.
“And what are you? Some sort of foppish rogue come to steal my ship? I should tell you now that though I look feminine and frail, I have a will of iron and cannot be swayed by your pretty face. And I advise you not to try anything on my decks. And you, arcanist, don’t pull anything funny with that spell book I see you have tucked away under your coat. I’ve rarely met one of your kind and I never like them, save what they can do for my ship, and a fine ship she is. Same goes for you, captain pretty. No trying anything with that electric hand of yours.”
Lance blinked before he found his voice. “I don’t know how to use it,” he said hoarsely.
“You’ll figure it out. Men always do.” She smiled, showing her pointed vixen teeth. “Now quick, tell me what you’re doing on my vessel.” Before they could reply, she kept speaking. “I’m Captain Anastasia Crucifix, or Stasi if you’re my father, but you’re not. This great piece of wood and steam-powered machinery is the SPS Exorcist. Once my father’s and now under my command.”
Revary Page 22
