Fusion (15 page)

“Give me fifteen minutes. I need to jump in the shower. Save me some bacon and a bagel.”

“Which kind?”

“Asiago cheese. Thanks.”

I slid out of bed and rushed toward the bathroom but didn’t quite make it before my cell rang. It must be important if someone actually decided to call rather than just text. I checked caller ID—Coach Mims. I had no idea who that was, but answered anyway.

“Arizona?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Good! Care to tell me why you’ve missed so many practices?”

“Um?” I struggled to figure out who she was. Could she be the new cheer coach?

“Look, I hate to bench my captain, but unless you have a good excuse, I may have to. Are you coming this evening?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. And sorry about that,” I said hurriedly in response to her obvious irritation.

I jumped into the shower, realizing that it was probably not the cheer coach, since she’d mentioned that I was the captain. That left hockey… I’d have to ask Kellan.

Kellan was not among the people at breakfast, which seemed recently to have turned into a community social affair. Gone were the days when it was just Mom, Dad, Grandma, Harry, Ella, and me, all sitting around in our pajamas. This morning, Ali, Maria, David, and Bruno joined Mom, Ella, and me.

“Hey, everyone!” I slid in between David and Ella. “Where’s Grandma?” She hadn’t been around as much as usual.

“Buying property in the south of France—Montpellier. She’ll be back next week,” Mom said.

“Nice. Vacation home?”

“Yes, and she’s invited us all to use it.”

“How come you guys are here so early?” I asked Ali and Maria.

“We’ve got a cheer meeting before school—just a brief one to get fitted for the new outfits. We stopped by to see if you wanted to come with us to get fitted?”

“Yes! Thanks! How exciting.”

“Well, we’ve got to go now to make it in time,” Ali said.

I grabbed the bagel Ella held out for me and rushed upstairs to get my school bag.

I yelped when I noticed the body in my bed. I stood as still as I could, trying to decide whether to yell or to have a peek. Inching closer to the bed, I was relieved to see that it was clearly Stan, even though he looked different, his hair dyed a white blond. I nudged him. “Stan! Wake up! What are you doing here?”

He shot out of bed in an instant, looking like he’d been pumped with a large dose of caffeine.

“Arizona! Hurry!” Ali yelled up the stairs.

“I have to go! What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might like to see Dillard. And I was bored.” He shrugged.

“I do!”

“Lunch in Paris and then go visit him?” he suggested.

“Now? I can’t.” I was totally not prepared for this.

“Arizona!” Ella yelled.

“I’ll be down in a minute!”

“Suit yourself. Later.” He bent down and kissed my lips and began to fade. I instinctively grabbed him, holding on for my life. I felt his arms encircle me and pull me to his chest, and I relaxed, wondering what on earth I was thinking. I shouldn’t have jumped on Stan, but it could be the only opportunity I might have to see my father, and perhaps even my doppelganger. All other options were getting less and less likely, but I should have at least let someone know what I was doing. This was going to cause mayhem at home.

Our travels came to a stop after what seemed like ages when my feet touched something solid. Stan gently let me go, allowing me to find my balance. I opened my eyes and looked around. Even though I had never been in this room before, it felt very familiar. When I looked up and saw the sunrays shining through the skylight, I was sure that I had been there before. I walked over to the large four-poster bed trimmed with a canopy of heavy auburn velvet. I sat down, bouncing up and down a couple of times. I knew what I would see outside the window. The smell alone told me that we were in Paris.

Stan smiled. “I can tell you recognize it.”

“Sort of. When was I here?”

“You spent time here last year with Simla and Justin before you went to London.”

I shook my head. Although I could feel that I had been there before, I couldn’t picture Simla or Justin.

“Do you remember my sister Luna?” He passed me a picture from the mantle piece.

I studied the pixie-like girl standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. I knew that I had met her but couldn’t get a feel for how. “Is she here?” Maybe if I met her in person, I’d have a better chance of remembering.

“No, and we must leave as well. It’s not safe here, but I just wanted to pop into Luna’s apartment to see if you remembered anything. Let’s go talk about it elsewhere.”

He put his arms around me, and we wandered again, this time for just a minute or so, and arrived in a busy kitchen—clearly a restaurant kitchen.

“Stan! Good to see you!” A smallish robust man wearing a chef’s hat slapped Stan on the back before kissing his cheeks. “And who is this pretty mademoiselle?”

“This is Princess Arizona.”

“Mon dieu! Your Highness!” He bowed, stepping back from me. “It’s an honor.”

“Claude, do you think we could have the private dining room?”

“Yes, of course. This way, please.” He ushered us down the hallway to a room with a solitary wooden table with seating for ten. “Please sit.” He slid a chair out for me.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, Claude,” Stan echoed. “Could you make sure that we’re not disturbed? Her Highness’s visit is private. I’ll ring when we’re ready to order.”

“Shall I bring some wine and bread in the meantime?”

“Yes, please, and some Perrier.”

Once he’d closed the door, I relaxed back in my chair, admiring the intricate crystal chandelier above our table.

“It’s quite wonderful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’d love something like that one day.” Then I frowned at him. “You know, I kind of grabbed you by mistake. I didn’t really mean to, and you have to take me back, like right now. Mom must be going nuts.”

Disappointment clouded his eyes. “I will if you must, but please stay. We’re in Paris. Enjoy lunch and then I’ll take you to see Dillard. I’ll travel you back in time so it will seem as if you’ve only been gone for a few minutes.”

“Does that change anything?” I wondered how messing with our timelines affected us.

He shrugged. “No one knows. In this case, it will keep your mother from worrying and set off a sequence of events and consequences that won’t happen if I just take you back.”

“Let me get this straight. We can have lunch and pop over to see Dillard in what will only seem like minutes to Mom?”

“Oui.”

“Are you like a hundred percent sure of that?”

He nodded. “Are you in?”

“Too right!” I smiled. “But aren’t you going to get into heaps of trouble for this? Aren’t you breaking like a zillion Wanderer rules?”

“Maybe, but there’s nobody around to care. My father is busy, as is yours, and neither of them know where I am or have the time to spend looking for me. I am a pretty low priority at the moment.”

We stopped talking when Claude popped back in with the bread and wine. As soon as he left, Stan continued.

“My father obviously has his spies on alert to report back to him if they spot me, hence the new hair color.”

“I like it, but it’s not exactly camouflage here in Paris. You stand out like a beacon.”

“You think?”

“Yes.” I laughed. He looked like a rock star, an attention magnet. “Anyhow, tell me about Dillard.”

“You must understand that I was suffering crushing boredom—I haven’t been able to attend classes at university while I was hiding out—so I decided to stalk the building in London where Raj, Simla, Dillard, and the other prisoners were being held.”

“And?”

“Dillard was taken to Charles de Gaulle airport this morning and put on a flight to Leeds. No one accompanied him on the plane, so I guess he was let go.”

“Wow. What about Simla and Dr. Sen?”

“Don’t know. I left them behind when I followed Dillard.” He picked up the menu. “If you don’t see anything you like, we can always stop over at McDonald’s.” He laughed.

I made a face at him and then glanced at the menu. “I’m not really that hungry. I just had breakfast, but I’ll have some crepes to keep you company.”

I gathered my thoughts while he ordered the food.

“It’ll be here shortly,” he said.

“So we’re going to Leeds after lunch. Is that your plan?”

“Yes, isn’t that what you want?”

“No, not really. I want to see the other Dillard, the one in New Jersey.”

“There’s another one?”

“Yes, but not in this dimension… We are still in the same dimension, right?” I checked. Stan could very well have hopped dimensions without me knowing.

“Yes, I wouldn’t dare do any dimension travel with you. It’s too dangerous. Hopping over to Leeds in this dimension is one thing, but taking you out into nowhere is out of the question.”

“Oh,” I muttered, disappointed.

“I don’t even know which dimension he’s in,” Stan explained. “Are you certain that you don’t want to pop over to Leeds?”

Why would I want to? The Dillard in Leeds wasn’t my biological father. However, if Stan had time on his hands, I had a better idea of how to use his gifts. “How about we check in on Dad instead? He’s in this dimension, right?”

“You want me to take you to your dad? No way!” he spluttered.

“Why not? I just want to talk to him, make sure he’s okay.”

“You think you can just nosy your way into finding out what’s going on?” he added. “I know how your mind works.”

I shrugged, flicking my hair. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I guess. Annoying at times, but this would be more than that. I’d get into some serious trouble. A bit of stalking is fine, but for the MIA son of Potomal to casually pop in on the sovereign would be totally insane. They’d lock me up and throw away the key.”

“Drama queen, much?” I snickered. “Dad won’t do that, not if I’m with you.”

“You’re totally wrong. There is no way I am making myself known to the sovereign.”

“Well, if you take me to where he is, I can go see him on my own. I am sure he’ll arrange for my travel back.”

“I don’t even know where he is.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. There is something going on, but I am out of the loop. One of the guest professors from the university here in Paris invited Luna to stay at his school in St. Moritz. Luna wants me to come as well, so I guess the situation is very grave.”

“Even more reason to try to find out what’s going on, right?”

“Maybe, but I have no idea where your dad is.”

“I think I know where I could find out. All you’ll have to do is wander me to London. I’ll do the rest.”

“Just drop you off, that’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Somewhere in London, all by yourself? Not happening.”

“Look, it’s the home of a family friend, so there’s no need to worry.”

“What if they’re not home?”

“Check for signs of life—like if the lights are on—before you drop me.”

“I’ll need you to let me know that you’re okay. How are you going to do that?”

“I could call you, except I left my cell behind. I’m sure I can borrow one, though. What’s your number?”

“I don’t have one at the moment either, but could you call Professor Kunz at Bonfire Academy in St. Moritz and just leave a short message to ask him to let me know that you’re okay? Shall I write the name and number down for you?”

I nodded and stuffed the piece of paper he gave me in my pocket.

“Do you promise to tell me everything when we see each other again?”

“Everything I find out.”

“You’re sure about this? Absolutely sure?”

~

A couple of hours later, Stan dropped me off outside Alfred’s house in London. Dropped is maybe the wrong word. He was supposed to just let me go inside the electric fence, but he hung on to me, leaving me dangling a foot or so above the ground for ages, probably rethinking the idea. I wasn’t going to let his second thoughts foil my plans, so I aimed my foot at where I thought his shin would be—which was hard to do to an invisible shin—and kicked really hard. He let go of me instantaneously, and I ran through the bushes and trees toward the house. I looked up at the brightly lit Tudor mansion, enjoying the cool London night breeze. I felt something grab my shoulder. Stan—darn. I shook him off and ran as fast as I could, knowing that I probably wouldn’t make it. He was going to wander me off again. Still, I made one last mad dash toward the paved path. Stan’s hand brushed against me as my feet landed on the stones, activating a shrieking siren, which filled the air, hurting my ears. Suddenly, I was bathed in flood lighting, and a big dog ran down the path toward me, sharp teeth bared, murderous growls surging from the back of her throat.

I smiled and shouted, “Boggsy woggsy, Cleo!”

Cleopatra—Alfred’s dog—lay down on the ground in front of me and rolled over for a belly rub. As I was petting her, Finna, Alfred’s housekeeper, caught up with us.

“What on earth are you doing here?” She gaped at me. “Does your father know you’re here?”

“No, I was actually looking for him. Do you know where he is?”

“No, and it’s not safe for you to be here. You must go.”

“I don’t have a way to get home. Maybe Alfred could help me?”

“No one is here, Arizona. Just me. You have to go.”

“Who is that, then?” I pointed to a window on the first floor. There was clearly someone peeking behind the curtain at us.

Finna followed my finger. “Oh, that’s just Morten. He’s moved upstairs, but he’s still locked in his room and only comes out to get his food. He doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“And who’s that?” I pointed to another window with clearly more than one person watching us.

“Look, Arizona, I am not at liberty to say. You have to go. Do you understand that?”

“You’ve got no idea where dad is or how I can get to him? I really can’t go home. I don’t even have any money or a passport.”

She shook her head, clearly frustrated. “Then, how did you get here?”

“I am not at liberty to say,” I mimicked.

She laughed. “All right, come inside, so I can make a few calls and try to figure out how to get you home. Come along.”