Another Pan (45 page)

Simon popped his head into Darling’s office. “Anyone in here?” he said casually. When no one answered, he darted toward the dehydrator to check on the book, thinking that the sooner it was dry, the sooner he could take it to Albany, where no annoying children would get in his way. He brought his face close to the surface of the dehydrator and peered through.
Wait a minute,
he thought, noting the slightly darker cover, the thickness of the pages, the smudge in the right corner that hadn’t been there before. . . .

Wendy glanced at the clock. Class was almost over, and Simon still hadn’t made an appearance. She tapped her feet under her desk, trying to keep calm.

“There you have it, class,” said the professor. “The bones of the fifth mummy are special because they carry in them the collective power of multitudes of bitter souls. What happened to Seti had a ripple effect, so that this is the story of the injustice of the entire family and also all of Egypt, who lost out on a good pharaoh and got an evil one in return. Next time, we’ll talk more about bonedust and the various failed expeditions to find it.” Wendy could see that he was trying not to look his children in the eye, probably because all three of them were thinking of Peter, their father’s childhood friend — now fired and lurking somewhere inside Marlowe — and of that toe he had carried in his pocket for all these decades.

As soon as Professor Darling dismissed the class, Wendy got up and ran to the door, slamming into it as she sprinted out into the hall. John wasn’t far behind. The rest of the class was still packing up binders and chatting about the weekend. The jarring sound of Wendy’s exit made everyone look up. “Whoa, there, little Darlin’s,” shouted Marla after them. Everyone sneered at the joke, since that was the only reaction that seemed available.

As students from every classroom began pouring into the hall, Wendy and John ran full speed, dodging left and right, barely missing a kid carrying a geography project, as they headed toward their father’s office. A teacher shouted, “No running!” but the two were turning into another hall before she even finished saying so.

With Peter and Simon both missing, the search for bonedust had suddenly turned into a race. A race to get to the
Book of Gates
as fast a possible, a race to find Peter, and a race to jump into the labyrinth and find the fifth mummy before Simon, who never did show up to Professor Darling’s class. Maybe he’d already made it inside, Wendy thought. Maybe they could get the fourth bone back.

They pushed past the door and ran into the darkened office. As they marched toward the dehydrator, Wendy said, “Did you text Peter?”

“Yeah,” said John, panting, “with a top-priority code attached, and our twenty.”

“Does he know where we are?”

“That’s what
our twenty
means,” said John.

“And that’s what you sent him?” said Wendy, pacing around the room as though her mind refused to let her body rest.

“I just said that,” said John. “With a priority signal. Will you just relax?”

Wendy kept rambling. “We should decide where to take the book, so we save some time when he gets here.”

“OK, let’s decide,” said John. There was no use trying to slow her down.

“What do we know so far?” said Wendy.

“Well, there’s this magic labyrinth underneath our school. . . .”

“Shut up,” said Wendy, still pacing. “The legend was about a king. Where would a king fit in with Marlowe? Maybe it’s a rank thing. What are we the best at? Volleyball? Did we win that last year? How did our Latin team do at state? Good? Probably not.”

“You realize you’re talking to yourself, right?” said John.

“Yeah, I realize that,” said Wendy. “Where is he? He’s usually everywhere. Ugh. Where would the prom king hang out? Or, wait, what about the teachers’ lounge? It has to —”

Suddenly, Wendy’s out-of-control talking came to an abrupt stop. She was frozen in place, staring at the dehydrator.

“What is it?” said John.

“It’s . . . it’s gone,” said Wendy.

The book was right there, in the dehydrator. But then Wendy reached in and yanked the book out of the machine.

“What are you doing?” said John.

“It’s fake, John. It’s fake. The book’s a fake.”

John grabbed the book. She was right. This was just a dummy. Someone had stolen the real one and replaced it with this cheap replica from the library.

“It had to be recently,” said John. “Dad couldn’t have seen this. He’d never fall for it.”

Wendy could only whisper, “Peter . . .”

What have you done?
thought Wendy. Wendy staggered toward her father’s desk and dropped the fake book. After everything she had done, how hard it had been for her breaking all the rules and lying to her own dad . . . After giving up Connor, who had been so good to her . . . Peter had to have known that it had been a nightmare juggling everything.
“How could he be so . . . ?”
she said. She had never trusted anyone since her mother left. She had closed herself off — to the point that everyone thought she was this cold, indifferent teacher’s kid. She didn’t have a best friend. Even Connor didn’t really know Wendy all that well. Sure, she had dated him because she liked him, but deep down she knew that most of the happiness she got from the relationship was because of John. All that had changed when Peter arrived. The day Peter showed up, she felt like she had discovered someone she could actually understand, someone who had shown up just in time. Peter’s desperation to beat the underworld, to throw off the heavy residue of a bad parent and defy his age, those were things that Wendy could relate to better than anyone. With Peter, she thought she had something long-lasting. But now he’d stolen the book and run off. Wendy felt hot tears forming in her eyes, and a hand on her shoulder.

“He didn’t run out on us,” said John. “I mean . . . he did, but it’s not personal.”

“How do you know?” said Wendy. Then she added, “Why would you care? You’re the one who thought he was a dirtbag from the beginning.”

“Yeah, but not the kind of dirtbag that tries to screw people just because. He’s after bonedust. Are you really surprised that he got a head start? It’s not about us.”

“Maybe not,” said Wendy, wanting to believe John but unable to shake the feeling of betrayal. They had so little time to spare, and for now, Wendy thought, she had the opportunity to believe in Peter. Maybe this is what relationships were all about, giving someone the benefit of the doubt. There was a lot of doubt, but Wendy would choose to trust Peter . . . for now.

“Besides,” said John, “who’d want to leave you without saying good-bye?”

Wendy couldn’t help but smile at John’s clumsy attempt to make her feel better. John had been a colossal pain in the past, but when it came down to it, he was one of only two people in the whole world who was always there.

“Come on,” she said. “We should go find it.”

John clapped his hands. “All right, I bet he took the book to hide it from —”

“Simon?” came a voice from behind the half-closed door.

Both Wendy and John whipped around. Simon was standing in the doorway, his arms hidden behind his back.

“You’ve been very busy, haven’t you?” said Simon. “Running around in dangerous places, doing dangerous things. And no one even asked for my help.”

“What are you doing here, Simon?” Wendy snapped. Simon was holding the real
Book of Gates
.

“Come on, Simon, be cool,” said John. “The book’s under our dad’s watch.”

“What are you
doing,
John?” Simon switched to a sympathetic tone, like a wise older brother throwing an intervention for his screwup sibling. “You’re a smart kid. You have so much potential. Why are you getting mixed up with that uneducated, bird-brained thug? You should have told me when all this started.”

John shrugged. He reminded Wendy of a puppy who couldn’t choose between two owners.

“Look, Simon,” Wendy jumped in, hoping John would grow a backbone sometime before his teenage years were over. “It’s our dad’s exhibit, and our dad’s years of research, and our dad’s discovery. . . . You’re gonna have to return that bone, too.”

Simon chuckled. “Why don’t we leave that to the British Museum to decide, huh, babe?”

“Where is it, anyway?” Wendy searched Simon with her eyes.

Simon just shook his head. “It’s safely put away.”

Neither Wendy nor Simon noticed the smile on John’s lips. The LB smile. The Adventurator smile. The furtive look of the rogue operator hatching a plan of his own. Sure, he had trusted Simon before — after the visit to the nurse’s office, he had been sure that Simon was his true friend. But there was something else he was even more sure of: real winners work alone.

“I’m going to need both of your help,” said Simon. Wendy gave a loud and almost involuntary
Hah!
Simon turned to John. He put a hand on his shoulder and said, “John, you and I are buddies, right? All those hours of gaming has to mean something. And I know for a fact that you are a by-the-book kind of guy. You want those relics to be handled professionally and the credit to go to the right people.”

“Like, you?” snapped Wendy. “John, he’s just a title-grubbing, résumé-padding —”

Simon cut her off. “If you help, John, I promise to bring your dad in on this, and we’ll start a proper, well-funded excavation. Your dad can even lead it.”

That was when Wendy made a move for the door. Simon grabbed her by the arm, which sent an uncomfortable shiver all the way down her spine. “Wait one second,” he said. “Wendy, if you don’t help me, you’ll never see your new boyfriend again.”

Wendy was taken aback. Did Simon have Peter tied up somewhere? “What are you talking about?”

Simon held up the book. “I hate to do this,” he said. “But I’ve got that criminal trapped in here. He’s looking for the last mummy, and he’ll never get back if I destroy the book.”

“You wouldn’t,” said John, disappointment coloring his face.

“He would,” said Wendy. “If he knew he couldn’t have it himself, he’d rather destroy it.”