Authors: Jennifer Ellis
“
I assume this is another one of Ian
’
s cards? It
’
s like before: I can see something, but it
’
s blurry. If I look out of one eye, I can see half of each of the numbers. If I look out of the other eye, I can see the other half.
”
“
But you see numbers, in groups of four?
”
“
I see parts of blurry numbers.
”
Abbey sank onto her brother
’
s bed.
“
I don
’
t get it. Caleb can read it. I could see it clearly for about two seconds, and you can only see part of it. What is that telling us?
”
“
That Caleb has a better imagination?
”
The fleeting suggestion of a smile crossed Simon
’
s lips.
Abbey was so relieved that he was talking to her again, she huffed a small snort of laughter through her nose.
“
Seriously.
”
“
Seriously. You and I are rationals, Ab. Caleb
’
s a feeler. He can probably feel the numbers, and that
’
s why he can see them.
”
“
You should turn Russell in, Si. This is all his fault. He put you up to it.
”
“
It
’
s not that simple. I did it. My IP fingerprints are all over it. And yes, I was thinking I could help Mom, but part of me just wanted the thrill of exploring their system. It turns out it wasn
’
t a very thrilling system. So I was an idiot. Besides, I have no proof Russell was involved.
”
“
But Russell
’
s cousin gave you the passwords.
”
“
On a piece of paper with no witnesses. I just need to get this over with, and hope I don
’
t get beaten up in juvie, or worse, and that it doesn
’
t go on some permanent record or something.
”
“
It won
’
t,
”
Abbey said, impulsively.
“
Or at least, I don
’
t know, it probably won
’
t.
”
“
Did you meet my future self?
”
“
Maybe.
”
“
So you
’
ve used the stones again?
”
Simon shifted on the bed and examined the ceiling with his deep blue eyes.
“
Part of me wants to know where I end up. Part of me doesn
’
t. The good thing about this whole mess is that it
’
s freed me from any pressure to have friends or a girlfriend, as nobody will let their children hang out with a criminal
…”
Simon
’
s voice cracked.
“
I never did show you the list,
”
Abbey said, with a bright smile that she could feel quivering around the edges.
“
The one on my phone. And the maps Dr. Ford gave to Mark are really interesting, and Selena, Nathaniel, and Damian are looking for something, files maybe, but they
’
re also looking for Madronas, and they have dogs, big scary dogs, and Jake
’
s helping them, and they tried to cut off Sylvain
’
s finger, and Selena knows Dad somehow, in some sort of creepy way I think, and I need your help
…”
The words came out all in a rush. Abbey had started talking simply to distract Simon, but as the list built, she realized how much she really did need his help. She spilled out more of the details of their trip to the college, and Sandy and the dogs, and the blood.
Simon
’
s eyes went really wide while Abbey spoke, and when she was done, he pulled his eyebrows together in a scowl.
“
I
’
m basically on house arrest and I have no computer. What good am I to you? Maybe Mom and Dad are right. This is too big and dangerous for us.
”
“
You can
’
t be serious. We have to figure this out. I
’
ll sneak my laptop in here if you need it. You were the one who knew about Quentin Steinam. Caleb
’
s supposed to be doing research on him, but I don
’
t think he is. He
’
s too busy with that girl Sunday, or Summer
…”
“
September,
”
Simon corrected.
“
It was September before, but I
’
m not sure if it
’
s September now. I don
’
t think you
’
re going to find out much about Steinam. I tried to look into him back when we were first looking at Sylvain, but I couldn
’
t find much at all. Whoever he is, he covers his tracks better than anyone.
”
“
Do you think he
’
s one of us?
”
Simon recoiled and laughed.
“
One of us? What does that mean?
”
“
You know, like
…
a witch.
”
Simon flicked the card with his index finger.
“
Well, if witches can read these cards, then you and I are failing miserably. I don
’
t even know if I believe in the witch mumbo jumbo. I think that
’
s what they say to make themselves feel special and justify using the stones for whatever nefarious means they choose.
”
“
Do you think Quentin Steinam can use the stones then?
”
“
If Quentin Steinam actually exists, you mean? Maybe. It would explain how he
’
s had so many successes with his investments. But who
’
s to say anyone can
’
t use the stones? That
’
s what the
‘
witches
’
claim
—
but has anyone ever tested that theory?
”
“
I still think we need to figure this all out. Whatever Mom and Dad are up to, I
’
m worried. Please help me.
”
Simon stared at her for a long time.
“
Fine. Jake
’
s actually in Band with me. It just started last week. Greenhill kids are allowed to join because they don
’
t have a music teacher there. I could talk to him if you want. See what I can find out. If he
’
s allowed to talk to the soon-to-be-convicted criminal, that is.
”
“
Okay, good. And?
”
“
I
’
ll take a run at Ian too.
”
“
Okay. I also need you to distract Mom and Dad at some point, so Mark and I can use the stones.
”
Simon narrowed his eyes.
“
Are you sure that
’
s a good idea?
”
“
No, but we need some answers...
”
“
I don
’
t know, Ab. That one I
’
ll have to think about.
”
“
Caleb and I went to see Mrs. Forrester,
”
she started. Simon raised his eyebrows and Abbey continued in a rush.
“
She drew me two new diagrams
—
a porcupine and a ladder, and five sticks.
”
“
Five sticks? Interesting. Quentin stands for five.
”
Abbey
’
s mind tried to perform some sort of complicated mathematical analysis on the number five, but all she could come up with was that it was the fifth Fibonacci number and the atomic number for boron.
“
Do you think that means anything?
”
Simon gave a snort.
“
Honestly, I have no idea.
”
Mark carefully placed the bus schedule back in his satchel. He pretty much had it memorized, but he liked to refer to it, just to make sure. He withdrew his photocopied hand-drawn copies of the three maps Dr. Ford had given him and then probably stolen from him. He had made three copies of each at the drug store. He now kept one set in his satchel, one set in his desk, and one set in his fire-resistant Protex safe. He wasn
’
t happy with his renderings though. He wasn
’
t certain of the precise location of the dots on the original maps, or the cross, or the watermark.
The only thing he could think of to do to improve them was to take the bus around to the locations he
thought
were dots and see if he could see anything of interest. He had done this (focusing on one dot a day, as that seemed to take him to the edge of his reserves and tolerance for being out of the house using public transit), and aside from the two downtown dots marking Coventry
’
s most ornate heritage buildings, he could see nothing special about them. He reviewed them one by one again: the old Heximer office building, the old Coventry museum building (which had burned to the foundations in 1986, but had been rebuilt in the same style, and which everyone said was haunted), and the Dorset Hotel.
He was leaving the northernmost dot (which was in the orchard land north of the city and would require three bus rides and two transfers) until after Christmas. Today, he was going to the spot where the two lines of the cross on the second map intersected. He was fairly certain that this spot and the museum dot were directly north of the midpoint between the two humps of the M of the watermark, which was odd. But without the original maps, Mark was concerned that he could be manufacturing this.
He already knew the general location of the spot where the lines intersected. But he had avoided thinking about it, and as he alighted from the Downtown Central bus and walked toward the location, he slowed his pace and stared at the square that he must now enter.
Mark had never set foot in the small Square of the Mother with the weird statue. It was generally acknowledged around town as a place where druggies and drug dealers hung out. He wasn
’
t entirely sure what druggies and drug dealers looked like, but he figured (hoped) that they would look bad (and, more importantly, obvious). And even though he didn
’
t believe them to be druggies or drug dealers (or perhaps they were), bedraggled men generally occupied the benches that stood on the outer perimeter of the square, and the grass was always dotted with rolled-up sleeping bags and shopping carts full of clothes, blankets, and other strange and random objects. Because of the orientation and height of the surrounding buildings, the sun rarely reached the square, and it always seemed desolate and damp, the green grass covered in a dew that never lifted.
Mark skirted the park, darting nervous glances through the decorative black metal that surrounded the green space. Two men sat quietly together on one of the benches. They had beards and wore ball caps advertising some sports team or beer. Their teeth looked to be of uncertain cleanliness and placement, but they didn
’
t have the evident appearance of being intoxicated or dangerous (although Mark wasn
’
t convinced he had the best judgment in this regard). Perhaps now was the time to give the square a try. He was certain the grass would be littered with used syringes and other items too dirty to even mention in his mind, so he stuck carefully to the paved sidewalk area, keeping an eye on the two men, and on the ground (as he did not want to accidentally step on or in anything).
The sidewalk led directly to the statue in the center of the square, which, to his surprise, was not the Virgin Mary. The plaque at the base of the statue quite clearly said
Quinta Francis Merry, 1782-1853
. Mark could see why he had thought it was the Virgin Mary: the woman was cloaked and looked very Mary-like in her attire. But up close, she didn
’
t look like Mary at all. The eyes of this statue looked very knowing. Not innocent or motherly, but rather assertive and proud, and almost like she was watching him (which of course Mark knew was impossible, but it still gave him the creeps). Beneath the dates, the inscription read:
Founder of Coventry
. And then under that, in smaller print:
Home, Hearth, and Center
.