Alight The Peril (9 page)

“Nicely done, my dear,” Aunt Dorothy said crisply as I rejoined the group. I smiled a greeting to Ang. She’d promised her mom she’d attend an evening church service so she could meet us this morning.

Sophie stood next to Ang with her hand on her hip, studying her neon pink fingernails. I tried to catch her eye, but she ignored me. My great-aunt turned toward the path that led into the meadow. “Follow me, and we’ll get started.”

We all fell in line, with Mr. Sykes and his cane trailing at the end. Aunt Dorothy’s shoulders stooped. What was it like to have this burden, trying to teach the four of us what the heck we were supposed to do? Normally, there was a pyramidal union every generation. It should have been my aunt out here with us, not my great aunt. Except there weren’t any aunts on my dad’s side. How did Aunt Dorothy feel about all this? She probably could think of better ways to spend her retirement years.

As we walked deeper into the meadow, I inspected the forest where Mason and I had seen the fog the night when we’d come for the bonfire. I didn’t really expect to see anything, but couldn’t stop my eyes from flicking from tree to tree. Mason’s apprehension seeped into my mind, and I knew he was doing the same.

Aunt Dorothy halted our little procession at the back of the meadow, about twenty feet from where grass and low brush melded into a forest of Ponderosa pines. She pointed toward the trees. “Mason and Harold will go back there, and the girls will stay here with me.” Mason and Mr. Sykes departed, and I grinned. It was like that day in grade school—when they put the girls in one room and the boys in another.

Aunt Dorothy stepped from the path into the meadow and beckoned us to follow. She walked a dozen steps into the lush grasses and flowers and waited for us to catch up and gather around her.

I kept my eyes on the ground, trying to avoid crushing the myriad of wildflowers. The variety of foliage and blooms was almost dizzying. I counted nine unique flowers before I lost track of what I’d already seen.

Ang, Sophie, and I formed a little semicircle in front of Aunt Dorothy. She slipped on her reading glasses, bent slightly at the waist, and plucked a violet-blue bloom from the end of a three-foot stalk. “This is one of the botanicals used to make the blue
pyxis
solution.” She held out her palm, and the three of us leaned in to examine a three-petaled flower the size of a nickel. Each petal curved away from the center and ended in a point. “All the solutions are made from botanical materials that grow here. This is a very special spot. Some of these plants only grow in a handful of locations in the entire world.”

I kneeled to examine the flowers, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Ang and Sophie both leaning over, too. I touched a frond that looked like an ostrich feather and moved at the slightest breath of air. A tiny, rapid vibration zipped up my arm, and I
knew
this was one of the ingredients for the yellow
pyxis
solution. For the next couple of minutes, I touched the leaves and petals around me, feeling their unique vibrations.

Something Aunt Dorothy had said came back to me, and I glanced at the back of the meadow. Mason was imitating Mr. Sykes’s posture, right hand palm down in front of his waist and left arm extended in front of him with his index finger and thumb forming an L.

Don’t mean to interrupt, but Aunt Dorothy just said something . . .
I said to Mason.

Yeah?

The plants and flowers in the meadow are used to make the
pyxis
liquids. And she said most of the plants are really rare and only grow in a few places in the world. I bet they grow in Perth, too.
He raised his left arm over his head, then lowered it back to eye level, following Mr. Sykes’s movements.

Perth?
Mason asked.

Australia, where Zane’s convergence is.

Mason didn’t respond for a moment.
Huh, yeah. You’re probably right.

I waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, I stood and crossed my arms, watching him.
So what’s with the Karate Kid stuff? Does the L give you special loser-detecting powers?

Mason looked over his shoulder at me. His deep rolling laugh swelled out over the meadow. Mr. Sykes whacked Mason’s thigh softly with his cane, but he was smiling. I grinned and turned back to Aunt Dorothy, Sophie, and Ang, who were giving us three different versions of the you’re-crazy face.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and I rejoined the circle.

“The plants here are precious. They could be dangerous in the wrong hands. You not only must protect the convergence to halt anything undesirable from passing between the two worlds, but you must also protect the meadow itself.” Aunt Dorothy folded her hands at her waist and looked over the top of her reading glasses at Sophie and Ang. “That’s one of the main jobs of the Guardians. And make no mistake, it
is
a two-person job. The two of you will learn to coordinate closely so that you are attuned to each other and this space and the flora that grow here.”

“Did anyone ever try to take, um, flora from the meadow when you were Guardian?” Ang asked. She fiddled with a strand of hair, weaving it through her fingers, her green eyes serious and unblinking.

Aunt Dorothy rolled up the sleeve of her chambray shirt and turned her arm, exposing the inside of her elbow. “See these markings?” She pointed to the pale flesh between her inner wrist and inner elbow. We all moved closer and leaned over her arm. A smattering of very faint blue, pearlescent markings decorated her skin. I peered closer and realized they were seven-pointed stars. “Each septagram represents an encounter during which I and the other Guardian defended the meadow. Earned over nearly fifty years, mind you.”

“Wow,” Ang breathed. The three of us stared at Aunt Dorothy’s arm. Thin as fine pencil markings, the septagrams covered several inches of exposed flesh. There were at least a dozen of them.

“We’ll get those, too?” Sophie glanced at Ang. Her eyes flickered in my direction, but not far enough to actually acknowledge me. With a movement so slight I would have missed it if I’d blinked, she shifted her shoulders to angle her body slightly away from me.

“Yes, you will,” Aunt Dorothy said. She rolled her sleeve back down to her wrist and buttoned the cuff. “Angeline will have them on her right arm, as I do. And you will see them appear on your left arm. Corinne and Mason will get them on both arms.”

Sophie seemed to brighten a little.

Ang tilted her head. “Are they tattoos, or . . . how do they get there, exactly?”

“No, not tattoos.” Aunt Dorothy said. I grinned at the idea of my grandmother and great-aunt going to some dingy strip mall tattoo shop and getting inked by a burly guy named Spike or Butch. “They show up faintly right after the encounter and develop over the next day or so.”

“Does it hurt?” Ang asked. Her brow furrowed.

“Not to worry. You won’t feel a thing.” My great-aunt began ushering us back to the path. “We have much to accomplish today.”

More? You’ve got to be kidding me. When is this going to be over?
Sophie grumbled, not realizing she’d let it slip through our link.

I gave her a sharp look that she didn’t see. With a tiny shift of her weight, she separated herself from the rest of us. She pulled one hand through her hair and huffed a loud sigh. But aside from her irritation I sensed something else through our link. Discomfort. No, it was more specific. Loneliness? I frowned, searching for something in her body language or expression to confirm it, but saw only thinly disguised annoyance.

Once we were back on the path, Aunt Dorothy stood between Ang and Sophie, a hand on each girl’s back. I moved off to the side. “Now, relax your mind and gaze out over the meadow,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Don’t focus on any one object. Just let your eyes brush over the scene. Give it a moment, and then tell me what you see.”

I squinted and scanned the meadow. What was she talking about? I saw only flowers and grasses, just like before. I turned my attention to Sophie and Ang, who stood with identical stances, their chins lifted and their arms loose at their sides. Almost at the same time, they both tilted their heads slightly and their gazes intensified.

“I see it,” Ang said, her voice soft. “It’s like a fine net.”

I looked across the meadow. Her description reminded me of the auras I’d seen around her and Sophie. The sign that told me they were the Guardians. But where . . . And then I saw it, blanketing the meadow like a fine, sparkling dew.

“Yes, like a net made of mist . . . or . . .” Sophie trailed off, her face slack and her eyes widening. “It’s so beautiful.”

I stared at her, but kept my mouth shut.
It’s so beautiful?
I was sure I’d never heard Sophie say anything so sincere. Well, at least not in the past five years.

A smile bloomed across Aunt Dorothy’s face, and she suddenly looked about twenty years younger. “Thank you,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “Evelyn and I—you remember, she was our other Guardian—we created it the last time we were here together. Not long before she passed away.”

Her voice swelled with such affection and nostalgia, my eyes filled with unexpected tears. For the first time, I considered the possibility of losing Mason or one of my Guardians. To have their presence permanently vanished from my mind, from my life. My chest constricted at the thought of such staggering loss.

I would do anything to protect the three of them. I watched Sophie for a moment, trying to reconcile this new feeling. It wasn’t that I suddenly loved her and wanted to be best friends, but instead of the usual anger or hurt, unfamiliar sadness tugged at me. What awful thing could cause someone to turn on a friend the way Sophie had done to me?

Could the others feel a change, a new bond between us? I watched my great-aunt’s face. What was it like for her, continuing on after the loss of not just the other Guardian, but the Pyxis—her twin sister?

“Okay.” Aunt Dorothy clapped her hands once. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

|| 10 ||

I SAT IN THE MIDDAY SUN among the flowers along the edge of the meadow’s path. Aunt Dorothy stood a few feet away from me, absorbed in teaching Ang and Sophie to “cast the net” over the meadow. She explained that the net obscured the plants, in a way, making them less conspicuous to passersby. It also provided some sort of matrix that, if disturbed, would alert them. The net that she and Evelyn had created was a couple of years old, and it had weakened with age. It was time to cast a fresh, strong one.

Ang and Sophie faced each other from opposite sides of the meadow. Sophie stood with her hands balled at her sides, perspiration shining on her forehead even though it wasn’t warm yet. When she broke her communication with Ang every so often, a burst of frustrated cursing slammed through my link with her. Ang took a deep breath every couple of minutes, her face almost rapt. I couldn’t hear any of the mental conversation passing between her and Sophie, but Ang must have been trying to soothe her.

“You must weave it together, synchronized,” Aunt Dorothy said. Her voice was low and calm, but neither Sophie nor Ang seemed to have any trouble hearing her instructions. “Focus on the apex as the center point, and form the net outward.”

I gathered that the net was initiated at some spot several feet in the air directly above the middle of the meadow, but I had no idea how the weaving worked. Every so often, a swatch of gossamer floated over the meadow, spreading outward, but each time it winked out of sight. And every time it disappeared, Sophie let loose with a silent string of phrases that would have made a sailor blush.

As Sophie’s frustration mounted, Ang seemed to grow more calm. I, on the other hand, had chewed off two of my nails and was starting in on a third. Shouldn’t I be helping somehow? I started running through the
pyxis
influences, searching for a combination that might take the edge off Sophie’s agitation so she could focus and cast the net correctly. I kept tripping on the fact that using the influences on Sophie would affect her disposition toward me, when what she needed was to be more in sync with Ang.

I ran my hands over the soft grasses and fragrant blooms near me, and turned my attention inward, trying to hit on the right combination of influences. I formed a swirl of yellow, and added a bit of orange and blue. Yellow inspired loyalty, and orange would make Sophie’s mind more open. Blue by itself was for romantic love, but my gut told me that combined with yellow and orange it would help deepen the bond between me and Sophie, and I hoped, between her and Ang. I held the swirl of colors, adjusting it until it rang through me like the tone of a pure crystal bell on a clear day, and then I pushed it toward Sophie.

I stared intently at her, watching for any sign that my little experiment had an effect. She drew a deep breath, and glanced questioningly at Aunt Dorothy, but my great-aunt had turned to me.

“Brilliant, my dear,” she said, too quiet for Ang or Sophie to hear.

“Thank you,” I whispered. I tried to restrain the beaming smile that threatened to take over my face, like a little kid who just got a gold star from the teacher.

We both turned our attention back to the girls just as a dazzling translucent mesh floated over the meadow and settled on the wide expanse of vegetation. It sparkled so intensely in the sunlight, my eyes began to water.

Aunt Dorothy clapped her hands several times. “Perfectly done!” she called.

Sophie and Ang heaved almost identical sighs of relief. I whooped and grinned, and they both laughed.

What just happened?
Mason and Mr. Sykes stopped their ninja training, or whatever they were doing, and watched us curiously.

You can’t see it?

Nuh-uh. All I see is a lot of flowers.

Too bad. It’s incredible.

What’s it look like?

I looked out over the meadow.
It’s like a net, but really delicate. And glittery, like it’s made of diamond dust. It’s supposed to be protective.