Gateway to Fourline (The Fourline Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nat noticed Estos first. His hair had been cut short and stood up like a scrub brush. She recognized his ripped leather jacket—it was from one of the pilot costumes at the shop. Annin wore a long, oversized trench coat. Her curly black hair was tucked into the wide collar. Her lips moved quickly as she spoke to Estos. She stopped talking and turned her head.

Nat remained in the doorway of her biochemistry classroom, watching the two warily as they watched her. Annin’s surreal blue eye and eye patch still freaked her out. Sighing, she shouldered her bag and walked to the bench where they were sitting.

“Hi.” Her eyes darted from Annin to Estos. “Nice hair.”

Estos stood, running a hand through his short hair. “Oberfisk’s idea.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. She felt unsteady but didn’t want either Estos or Annin to know. Sleep had been a rare commodity lately, between the nightmares and the hours researching an answer that would explain where she’d been.

“How’s your hand?” he asked while examining the fleshy side where the punctures were still visible.

“It’s fine.” She let him press his fingers into the side of her palm.

“The needles are a lot like porcupine quills.” Annin lifted her chin, freeing some of her hair from under the collar. “If you don’t remove them properly, they work themselves into the skin and through the muscle tissue. I’ve seen some embedded in bone. Avoid porc trees next time you go back through the forest.”

“About going back . . .” Nat took a deep breath.

“I told you she’d say no,” Annin cut in before she could continue. “Let’s be done with her, Estos.” She pulled a small vial from her bulky coat pocket and tossed it toward Nat, who reflexively caught it in her right hand. “We can use your classroom. It will only take a minute after you drink that”—she pointed to the vial—“for me to wipe your memory. Or, if you refuse, I’ll do it while you are sleeping tonight. The here and now is easier.” Annin’s coat swirled around her legs as she walked toward the empty classroom across from the bench.

“What are you talking about? What is this?” Nat held the green vial between two fingers.

“Andris told you what your options are. It’s one or the other.” Estos’ gray eyes looked weary.

“You’re not making the choice very appealing for her, Estos.” Nat shivered as Annin’s breath warmed the back of her neck. How had she gotten behind her so quickly? “Why don’t you ask her what she wants if she goes back in?” Annin pushed her wavy hair away from her covered eye. “Why don’t you ask her how badly she wants to know the answers to all the questions that have been running through her mind?” She walked around Nat like she was observing a zoo animal. “Tell her that if she helps us, she will learn things that will defy her understanding of the world she knows.” She paused. Nat stared straight ahead, refusing to look at her. “Or if none of that is of interest, just tell her we will pay her more.” Annin leaned in even closer. “Are you in, Natalie, or are you going to make me take you back to your poverty and ignorance?”

“Shut up, Annin.” Nat stepped away from her and carefully placed her backpack on the ground. She slid onto the bench and handed the vial to Estos. “I’ll go back in,” she said quietly. The expression on Estos’ face transformed. “But I have a price.” She watched him carefully. She knew she was agreeing to this for him more than anything. His scar stood out against his pale skin. She took another deep breath. “I want answers to all my questions, and I have a lot of them.” He nodded in agreement. “And I need your promise I’ll be safe.”

“There’s no risk to you, I promise.” He looked grave, but Nat sensed hope in his voice. She thought she saw a flicker of surprise cross Annin’s face, but when she looked closely, all she saw was the familiar stony expression.

Estos ran his hand over his bristly hair again and rose from the bench.

“What about my questions?” Nat protested and grabbed her backpack.

He held up his hand. “I left the Sisters trying to figure out a solution if you refused. We need to return with the good news. Hopefully Oberfisk and Andris haven’t done anything rash in the meantime.”

“Andris may not think it’s such good news.” Nat slung her backpack over her shoulder and fell in step with Estos and Annin. The hall began to fill with students. A rush of cold wind blew over them as they approached the thick glass doors leading to the quad. Nat shivered. They stopped near a display case by the entrance. Computerized holograms of the planets spun in dizzying circles inside the case.

“Come tomorrow afternoon.” Tomorrow was Friday. Estos grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

“I want more answers before I go back.” She was not going to let him blow her off again with some other excuse. “I’m serious. Otherwise no deal.” She laid her hand on the display case. The planets spun under her fingers.

“Tonight. You’ll get answers tonight,” Estos said over his shoulder. “Go to the place I showed you when you were sleeping.” A gust of wind slammed the door shut as soon as he let go.

“I’ll try,” Nat said to herself as she watched the pair walk away into the wind. Estos looked back once and gave her an awkward wave. She bent down so she was eye level with the holograms. The tiny moons hurtled around Jupiter as it zipped past her nose. She wondered what tonight and tomorrow would bring.

Instead of a ladder, a vine shot up from a small leafy patch in the middle of a bright-yellow meadow. Nat grabbed a stiff leaf and hauled herself up one leaf at a time until she reached the dark rim. She flung herself over the ledge. Her dream room was empty.

“May I come in?” Annin hovered on the other side of the ledge, her face partially concealed by her dark hair. Nat scanned the whirling clouds behind Annin. No Estos.

“Come on in. You remind me of Count Dracula.” Nat crossed her arms, still irritated with her.

“Count Dracula?” Annin deftly vaulted the ledge and surveyed the emptiness. A green stained-glass lamp appeared above Nat’s head.

“He’s a famous vampire,” Nat explained. Two white circular chairs popped into place next to her. “He always asked if he could come in. Then he would drain the blood of his victims, who were usually beautiful, brainless young women stupid enough to invite him in. They run the movie during Halloween Fest at the Bellmont. It’s probably not high on your list of social activities. Have a seat.” She gestured to a chair.

“How do I remind you of Count Dracula?” Annin didn’t sit. She instead clutched the rounded edge of the chair.

“I wasn’t . . . You just . . . It’s the ‘May I come in’ thing, that’s all. It’s a joke.”

Annin relaxed her grip and spun the chair.

Nat looked toward the ledge. “Is Estos coming?”

“No, he can’t travel as far as I can. He would need to be in the same building with you to do this.” Annin plopped down into the chair with her legs dangling over the side.

“But you don’t?” Nat asked, trying to hide her disappointment in not finding Estos waiting for her.

“No. I can reach you from very far away,” she said so matter-of-factly that Nat ignored the possible threat and pressed on with her questions.

“But I would still have to invite you in each time, right?”

“Yes, but there are ways of getting around that. One thing you must learn to do is to send up sets of lines from your ledge and characterize them. It’ll protect you from unwanted visitors.”

“Tell me about the lines first, then the unwanted visitors.” Nat intended on getting as many answers as she could. If she had to write an agenda to keep Annin on task, she would.

Annin spun in the chair, her long hair now brushing the floor. The upside-down eye patch flashed each time she went round. “Think of an infinite number of perfectly parallel lines.” She stopped spinning and hopped off the chair. “Come here.” She took Nat’s arm and brought her close to the ledge. “Imagine a straight line starting here”—she pointed to a spot on the ledge—“that extends into infinity.”

A white line shot up into the sky.

“Good. Make another.” They walked along the ledge as one bright white line after another shot up into the darkness.

“Now, in the back of your mind, imagine them extending forever in either direction. The trick is to keep that image in your head. Depending on who or what you want to keep out, characterize the lines. Heat is always a good choice,” Annin suggested.

“Imagine the lines are hot?” Nat stood a few feet from the ledge, concentrating on the lines.

“Exactly.”

The lines changed in hue from yellow to light blue. Nat’s face warmed as she faced them.

“You’re not as hopeless as I thought,” Annin said as she carefully touched a line.

“Thanks a lot.” The lights began to fade.

“No, don’t let them go, keep them up!” Annin’s yell brought the lines crashing down. Shards of glass shattered around them as they jumped behind the chairs to avoid the flying splinters.

“You control it, Natalie!” Annin cried over the sound of breaking glass.

I control this?
Nat ducked behind the chair. She imagined the game of statues she used to play with MC. Silence filled the room. She opened her eyes. Suspended bits of glass and dust hung in the air.

“Form the lines again, slowly,” Annin called out as she peered over the edge of the other chair. The glass moved around and upward until the pieces coalesced into bluish lines illuminating the ledge as far as Nat could see.

“Keep that image in your head. Don’t let it go,” Annin said softly. The lines glowed and stayed in place. “Okay.” She let out a breath. “I have a new set of directions for tomorrow’s trip. Can you pull up Estos’ map while maintaining the image of the lines?” She gave Nat a doubtful look.

Nat closed her eyes. When she opened them, a small forest hovered between the two chairs. Annin circled the map.

“Where did you see the Na—thing in the trees?”

Nat pointed to an area south of the cliff’s entrance. Annin pulled the sides of the map, and it stretched out in all directions. The top of the cliff was visible. It crumbled into a low, long plain to the north of the forest. A small house sat at the very southern edge of the map, not very far from the message tree. Annin pointed to the house.

“That’s your destination.” She paused. “An old man, Benedict, lives there. He’ll have a response to the message you left. You’ll tell him Sister Barba sent you. But don’t tell him anything else. Sister Barba, Ethet, and Estos trust him, but he is a rat.” She punctuated each word.

“Wonderful.”

“He won’t be a problem for you. He’s trustworthy enough with his own kind. No, your problem is getting to his house.” Annin examined the map a moment, then traced a path up and over the cliff and straight down into the heart of the plain. “It’s best you stay out of the trees this time, but we can’t have you on the plain midday. Cliffs until sunset, then out on the plain at dark. You should reach his house before midevening. Get his message and return. Ready?” Annin held out her hand. Nat hesitated.

“Why can’t I go through the trees this time?”

“Can’t answer that, Estos made me promise.” Her hand was still extended.

“He’s going to answer it before I leave tomorrow. I’m done with not knowing. That’s the deal.” She took Annin’s hand and stepped out of the cliff’s entrance. The forest was on the verge of darkness. She looked up. The very top of the cliff was still covered in sunlight.

“The climbing path is over to the left.” Annin sat on the same boulder Estos had occupied on Nat’s first map trip. She motioned her head to the left. “It’s pretty steep at the base but then it levels out. You’ll need to search for the toeholds in this light.”

Nat brushed her fingers over the rockface, searching for a hold until she found two indentations deep enough to ram her hands in. “This is no path.” She hoisted herself up the first set of rocks. They formed a tunnel, shielding her from the forest. Pulling herself out of the rock chute, she sat back on her heels at the top of the cliff. She’d scaled the face in no time.

Cracks ran along the surface of the cliff. Her feet skimmed over the small crevices, and she jumped the wider gaps. At the very edge, the cliff crumbled away onto a plain. Scraggly shrubs poked out of the crags in the red rocks.
How am I going to get down this without breaking something?
she wondered. She eyed the loose rock and took off down the cliff face at an angle, switching back and forth until she reached the softer grasslands of the plain.

The sky was almost completely dark. No moon, no stars. She closed her eyes, visualizing the map, and began to run. A few drops of rain fell on her face, and Nat wondered if it was Annin’s doing. The field was filled with tiny yellow flowers bright enough that she could see them even in the darkness. A single light came into view and illuminated a small dwelling. Nat circled the house, noting all windows and entrances. She tried the arched front door and found it opened easily into one small room containing a hearth, bed, table, cabinet, and chair.

Thump. Nat hesitated near the door when she heard the sound. No one else was in the room.
Thump. The sound was emanating from the massive cabinet occupying a corner of the cottage. She grabbed a stubby candle from the hearth and lit the wick from the crackling fire. She tried the worn latch securing the cabinet door, but it wouldn’t budge. The light from her candle fell on a tiny brass button above the latch. Thump. Nat swallowed and reminded herself this was only a dream. She pushed the button and heard a click, then shuffling. The cabinet door opened, and a hairy black form scrambled toward her. Nat hurried to the light of the hearth as a small, thin girl stood and pushed back a mop of tangled black hair. A much younger Annin stood before her. Nat stared at her face, mesmerized by her silvery faceted eye.