Speed of Light (37 page)

“And you asked your siblings about him, right?” If I remembered correctly, we’d found this journal in February and wondered at the time if Rumi’s uncle was Fenestra or Nocti. I didn’t like the expression in Rumi’s eyes.

“Yes. No one remembered hearing of him. Knowing of him.”

“And the Nocti stole it from your studio with the other papers?”

Rumi nodded. “I think he’s of the Dark, lass. I think he left the Light behind.”

“Why, Rumi?”

“That symbol she wanted is here. He talks of hurting animals to practice. Of drowning …” Rumi’s voice trailed off.

I gripped his hand. “May I see that?”

His fingers relaxed and the little book fell into my hands. There were sketches and diagrams, notes, and seemingly endless fascinations with drowning and water.

Tony clicked off his phone. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Fara shrugged. The rest of us simply waited.

“That was Timothy. The crusade to cancel the race this year because of the ‘Centennial Curse’ is proving the marketing miracle. More people are buying tickets simply to prove that Hoosiers don’t believe in superstition. Rumor has it there are no tickets left for Sunday’s race—they are sold out for the first time in decades.”

“Which means how many people?”

“The owners don’t release solid numbers, but estimates say record crowds are predicted to swell the festivities from a quarter million to nearly half a million people from all over the world.”

“That’s a lot of people in one place.”

“Then we better get to work. The Woodsmen’s clues were snakes, a driver, and artesian something.” It’s like a crossword from hell.

Juliet hummed her mother’s song.

My heart hurt. I knew everything in her wanted to run to Shades and find her mother. And there she was, sitting here patiently, trying to do what we so desperately needed and help us figure out the Nocti strategies.

“The Woodsmen scoured the museum. They’re going over everything. So far it sounds like the parade might be a dress rehearsal but not so big that the race is canceled.”

“That’s a fine line.”
Too fine
.

Fara stared at Juliet, then glanced up at me with a sad smile. We had to be thinking the same thing.

“You need to go,” I said, standing up. “Go to Shades, find Roshana. Go.”

“But—” Tens tried to interrupt me.

“Can you try to be back for the race itself?” I asked Tony.

Juliet sat still as if she thought I might change my mind.

“We’ll do our best.” Tony nodded.

“We have the Woodsmen. We can cover the parade tonight.”

“What about Faye?” Juliet asked.

“She’ll understand.”
If she dies while we’re saving others, she’ll forgive us for breaking our promise
.

“Nelli?”

“Is in the hospital and not leaving for a few days. Stop coming up with reasons not to go and GO!” I pulled her upright.

In a tiny voice, she asked, “What if she’s not there?”

“If she’s not there, we’ll keep looking. But you won’t be able to focus on the race until you’ve at least tried, right?”

She nodded.

“So go!”
Go, already
.

Fara and Tens quickly repacked a bag of survival gear, food, and water that he always kept handy in case we had to run without much notice.

“Are you sure?” Juliet glanced at the door longingly.

“Of course. You’ve done enough,” I said, convinced this was the right course of action.

She wrenched me into her arms and clung so tight I was afraid a rib might snap. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

I smiled for the first time in hours. “Go.”

We are horribly outnumbered, have no idea how to stop the Nocti’s plans, and might be dead ourselves before the weekend is over. Why not give Juliet a shot?

M
ini lounged in the backseat when we opened the doors of the car. With no bandages to hide under, her new pink healing skin, scabs, and stitches gave her a nightmarish appearance. And with hair that seemed more like five o’clock shadow rather than the long downy fluff I was used to, she was a candidate for a blue ribbon in an ugly contest. The determined glint in her eyes and the twitch of her tail told me she was coming along no matter what I might think.

Please let us find my mommy. Please let us find her
.

“I’ll take the back.” Fara didn’t seem to acknowledge
Mini’s attitude as she flipped through a book about state parks.

“They close at dusk.” Tony gripped the steering wheel as we headed east on 32 toward Shades State Park. “It’s three thousand acres.”

“We have time, or we’ll stay overnight; we have until tomorrow morning to get back for the race.” Fara shrugged and said it like rules were made to be broken.

Nicole? If you can hear me, I need my guardian angel on this, okay? I know I didn’t believe you before, so maybe you can’t help, but if you can …

As we passed fields and small towns, I tasted buttered popcorn and root-beer floats. We turned down one state road after another.

Tony turned on the radio, probably to break the silence.

I was all but shedding my skin by the time we pulled into the main parking lot. I rubbed the photograph of my parents between my fingers for luck. We swung out onto a muddy, rocky path, taking it all in and then some. S’mores and artificial orange drink powder danced at the back of my tongue.

Tony grabbed the backpack out of the trunk with food and water, folding shovels, and a roll of plastic. Fara’s knives were all sheathed and sharpened. Her chain necklaces hung at the ready. I knew they easily broke at one joint to become weapons in her hands.

While blooming and leafed out trees towered over us,
we stood at the entrance and studied the list of trails.
No arrows. No divine signs. No clues
.

“Any ideas?” Fara took a few steps in several directions as if testing the earth.

“What did your mother’s book say?”

I opened the book to the same page Fara read from at Nowruz and repeated. “She wants a cold drink of punch in the shade.” We scrutinized the options.
The wrong choice and we’ll waste precious time
.

Fara pointed. “What about heading this way?”

“The Devil’s Punchbowl?” Tony asked.

I nodded, tucking the book into the backpack. “That feels right.”

“Keep your eyes peeled for spirits—they may be able to tell you something,” Fara instructed like I was supposed to flag down anyone I saw and ask them if they were dead.
Sure. Excuse me, are you haunting the park? Can you tell me if you’ve seen any suspicious behavior?
I still didn’t understand quite how it worked for me to recognize those lost in time. Meridian tried to explain the feelings she had or the clues she saw, but I was focused way too much on the logistics of being a window.
She makes it look easy
.

The trails followed creek beds and ravines, where glaciers cut through the earth on their move north. Rock walls the color of sesame seeds and horseradish rose around us. Under our feet, the foliage blended together in a green sea of kale, parsley, and limes.

We walked to a point where the path seemed to disappear. I think I must have gasped at the vastness of the wilderness around us. Fara’s gaze sharpened and she said sternly to me, “You focus on the little bits; we’ll find her. Remember, let your heart guide us.”

I nodded. As they began to descend a ladder to where the trail picked up again, I heard a call. “Wait up! Hey, you!”

I saw no one, so I finished my descent. Then I saw a ranger running toward us.

Tony and Fara strode ahead in the opposite direction as I turned toward the voice.

I said, “Tony, Fara, the ranger—”

Tony frowned. “What ranger—”

My legs crumpled and I was at the window, sitting at the kitchen table. “You’re not a ranger, are you?”

His uniform seemed slightly off, as if he was wearing one several generations old. He didn’t mind my question and answered, “I was up until a few days ago. Do you know who won the World Series? Did the Mets beat Boston?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

“Man, 1986 just hasn’t been my year!” He tossed his hat down on the table. He seemed prepared to sit here with me forever.

“Um, maybe if you turn around and go through that window, it’ll get better?”
I have to work on my conversation skills. What does Meridian say to her souls?

“Might as well.” He huffed and picked up his hat before smashing it back onto his head.

As he started to step over the sill, I stopped him. “Wait! You haven’t seen anyone like me, have you?”

He squinted, nodding. “Blond, scars on her face?”

“Yeah.” I licked my lips, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

“Not for a while. She walked trail seven a lot over by the Devil. Didn’t talk, though, so I gave up chatting with her.”

“Thanks.” I motioned for him to keep going. His window smelled of hot dogs and yeasty beer in the baseball stadium behind him. I wondered if he’d be able to see the decades-old game from the front row. The fans started a wave with him at the center and I blinked back into my world.

“Welcome back.” Tony tapped my nose with his finger.

My head was in Fara’s lap and Tony wiped my face with a cool cloth.

“He used to see her by the Punchbowl on trail seven.”

“So we’re going the right way.” Fara grinned.

“He said it had been a while.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, he thought it was 1986 and during baseball season.”

“So, take it with a grain of salt.” Fara’s optimism made it impossible to stay pensive. Then her expression darkened. “Don’t react, but someone very alive is following us.”

“Who?”
Nocti? Another soul? A hiker going our way?

“What do we do?” I questioned.

“Nothing yet. Let’s pretend we haven’t noticed. Stay between me and Tony, okay?”

“Let’s keep going.” I stood up and forced my legs to move. Humming mom’s Wildcat song with each step, we trekked deeper into the woods. Around us, late afternoon light glazed the world with honey.

We didn’t talk much, simply persevered. I wanted to ask Fara if we were still being followed but I figured she’d give us the all-clear if that changed. And she wasn’t speaking.

As twilight approached, we heard footsteps coming toward us.

“Hide.” Fara tugged us both off the trail under an overhang and behind a fallen tree. We ducked, holding motionless, hoping if they weren’t looking for us, they wouldn’t see us.
We’re invisible. We’re invisible
. I pressed the photograph of my parents between my fingers.

The chatting pair who passed us wore official, seemingly up-to-date ranger gear. We listened to them discuss unruly campers and the need for better security after dark. We held our positions until they were long past.

Owls began hooting their “who-cooks-for-you” as bats skittered low around the trees, snacking on king-sized mosquitoes. The oak and maple trees seemed to grow taller around us as light slipped farther behind the horizon.

All around me were lichen- and moss-covered rocks and tree trunks in a fuzzy carpet. Chunks of limestone
littered the ground like a handful of garnish on a platter of food.

Nettles grew as tall as us and the undergrowth was lush, full, and impossible to see through. I knew a recipe for nettle tea that belonged to one of the deceased at DG. I could see her face but not her name.

Blisters rubbed my heels raw. “Are we still being followed?” I let the question hang, hoping Fara knew what I meant.

“Yes.” She didn’t even pause, which meant I had to keep going or she’d run over me.

I deflated. “We’re not going to find her, are we?” Between watching my feet and trying to spot any sign of my mother’s bones, frustration ate at me. If her remains were lying in an easy-to-see area, they would have long since been carried away, or reported.

“We’ve only started looking. Don’t give up now,” Fara reassured me.

“Juliet, we’ll be here every day, all summer season, if we have to. If she’s here, we’ll find her.” Tony’s voice was troubled; it was clear he thought we were chasing shadows too.

Don’t give up. You’ve waited this long. They mean it; they’ll search until we find her
.

We came to a fork in the road that was unmarked. Dirt went to the right and more went to the left. Both directions appeared the same.

“Which way is the Punchbowl?” Tony passed out headlamps, which we all turned on to their lowest setting.

Already on edge, a rustle under a canopy of ferns spooked us. Fara leapt between us, snapping her chains between her fists.

“Meow.”

“That’s Mini!” I said as my cat poked her head out.

“Meow.” She pranced to the middle of the right-hand path.

“We go right.” Fara’s decisiveness usually felt overpowering, but today I welcomed it.

I leaned down to stroke Mini’s face and she nudged my hand. “She can’t walk all the way.” I picked her up and she laid her head on my shoulder with a grateful meow.

We continued on, turning the headlamps higher to see the path and a few feet around us.

The sound of moving water, rushing against rocks, came from our right. Steps carved out of rock led down to a pool and a stream.

“Break time?” Tony asked. “Anyone want food? I have cookies from Helios.”

“You need to keep your energy up,” Fara said to me when I wanted to keep going.

I placed Mini in my lap and nibbled on the chewy goodness. “Drink all of this.” Tony handed me a bottle of juice.

I watched the water of the stream cascade, flying through the air. It reflected back all of our light, twisting over rounded rocks and smoothed walls.

“I wish I had that goop,” Tony muttered, slathering another layer of cortisone cream over mosquito bites.

“What is goop?” Fara asked him.

“Josiah delivered a sticky lotion for Tens and Meridian when the Nocti spiked the poison ivy. It made them feel better.”

“What about the ivy?” she asked.

I said, “Ms. Asura somehow controlled the ivy, made it move and made it hurt us.” Kirian’s face suspended before me. “She used it to kill Kirian.” I whispered this last sentence.