Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3) (31 page)

“Yes. It’s a rock. I’ve seen lots of them,” Hannah said.

“No, I mean have you ever seen this rock before?”

“Nope.” Hannah dismissed the subject by looking down to her lap where she held a comic book.

From behind the wheel, Diana eyed the stone and said, “That’s an odd color for a rock. What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a memory stone,” Mara said. “I can use it to share memories with someone, but it’s just a one-time thing apparently.” She described what happened at Stella’s house earlier in the day.

Diana blanched when Mara described Abby’s emergence from the black hole. “What on earth do you think happened to her?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think those wounds came from our encounter before Thanksgiving on the roof of the shop. Most of the violence was over before Abby … got taken.” Mara looked out the window and took a deep breath.

Diana noticed but decided it was not the time to get Mara to open up about her friend. Instead she asked, “Why did you think Hannah would recognize the stone?”

Mara shrugged. “I can’t imagine wanting to actually share memories with someone, so I figure I might still have it around in the future. Maybe she saw it somewhere.”

Diana frowned slightly. “Well, you need to remember she’s a five-year-old. It’s not like you are going to confide every detail of your past life to her. Oh! Speaking of confiding details, Hannah did say something interesting while we were shopping, when I asked her what she would like for Christmas.”

Mara lowered her voice. “What did she say?”

“Ask her yourself.” Diana cocked her head toward the backseat.

Mara twisted around and said, “Hey, Han. What should I get you for Christmas?”

“You don’t need to get me anything,” she said, not looking up from her comic book.

“Why is that?” Mara asked.

“’Cause I’m going to be gone before Christmas.”

Mara narrowed her eyes as she looked at her mother, who nodded. “Gone where?”

Hannah looked up and said, “Back to the future, silly.”

The Ford Edge slowed and turned into a driveway behind an old white van. Diana put the vehicle in Park, and killed the engine and headlights. They were at Ned’s house. For a moment they sat in the dark, listening to the cooling engine ticking. She turned to her daughter and lowered her voice, “Does that mean you are going to send her back?”

Mara looked aghast. “Not based on anything I know today, it doesn’t.”

“Well, then how is she going to return?” Diana asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” She held up a hand as she unbuckled her seat belt and looked over her shoulder. “Hannah, how do you know you are going back before Christmas?”

“You told me before I left that I would be home before Christmas.”

“Of course I did.” Mara rolled her eyes. Looking at her mother, she said, “My future self also told her that she would arrive here in time to go trick-or-treating, and I overshot that by nearly a month. Remember?”

“That’s true,” Diana said.

“We are talking time travel here. For all we know, she could be here until she graduates from college and still be home in time for Christmas in her timeframe.”

“I suppose that’s possible, but I can’t imagine Sam would be pleased when you present him with a grown daughter for Christmas, when he’s expecting a five-year-old.”

Mara slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Let’s just pick up the duplicate doohickey that might allow people to travel to alternate realities, before we try to solve the paradox of the niece from the future.”

* * *

The arched oak door they stood before looked a little too stately for the aging brick rambler to which was mounted. Mara leaned to the right, looking for a doorbell, and, not finding one, leaned to the left. Behind her, Diana reached over Mara’s shoulder and banged the tarnished brass door knocker mounted directly in front of them.

“Why does Ned have a castle door installed on the front of a generic suburban home?” Mara asked.

Diana knitted her brow. “Don’t be rude. Ned thinks the arches give his home a more welcoming vibe, invites in the good spirits.”

“I forgot he’s one of your enlightened New Agey friends,” Mara said.

“How you turned out to be so judgmental is beyond me. Perhaps if I had spanked you as a child, you’d have learned to have more respect for other people’s beliefs. Just keep in mind that you’re the one walking around with a memory stone in her pocket,” Diana said.

Hannah tittered between them.

Mara looked down at her and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nana’s gonna spank you,” Hannah said.

“She’s all talk,” Mara said.

They felt footsteps coming toward them from behind the door. After a metallic click, the door swung open, revealing the tall, lanky silhouette of Ned Pastor. He smiled, and, instead of inviting them in, he stepped out onto the small porch, closing the door behind him.

He pointed toward the driveway and said, “The workshop is around back. That’s where I have the medallion. Let’s go take a look.” After walking past the driveway, they took a sidewalk around the corner and headed toward the rear of the house, with Ned leading the way. As they proceeded, he glanced over his shoulder and asked, “So you said that something happened to the original medallion, and you are interested in the facsimile that I fabricated. Is that correct?”

“Yes, the original was stolen, and I guess you could say I grew attached to it,” Mara said.

“Well, I have to warn you that, while I was able to reproduce the look and feel of the medallion, I don’t think I was able to capture the spiritual power the original radiated,” he said.

Diana caught Mara’s eye and gave her a warning expression.

Mara rolled her eyes and said to Ned’s back, “I’ve been given to understand that the medallion works as a metaphysical prism of sorts, reflecting and refracting the energy of its keeper, if you will. However, it takes time before its effects are detectable.”

“Interesting. To what end does the medallion do this?”

“I beg your pardon?” Mara was caught off guard.

“For what purpose does the medallion redirect and refract your energy?”

“Ah, it is designed to give insight into your, well, into the facets of your consciousness on other planes of existence.”

Diana smirked at her daughter, as they approached a large woodshed at the end of the fenced lot that made up the backyard. A security light at the corner of the building winked on, illuminating the path that led to a small door at its center. When they arrived, Ned pulled out a set of keys and lifted the padlock dangling above the doorknob. Once it was unlocked, he opened the door, reached to the right and flipped on the inside lights.

He walked around to the far side of a workbench that stood in the middle of the floor and ran the length of the building. “Come on in,” he said. “I’ve got it over here in this toolbox.” He walked toward a large metal chest of drawers.

Mara scanned the inside of the building, and admired the range of tools and appliances sitting on shelves and hanging from the low rafters. Many of the devices she could not identify, which surprised her.

“Are all these tools used for jewelry and working with metal?” she asked.

“Oh, there’s a little bit of everything out here.” He pointed to several shelves and corners of the building. “Over there is woodworking saws, routers, and back there is a kiln for ceramics. Most of the stuff on the table I use for the metal and stonework.”

He turned from the tool chest and approached the workbench, handing the copper medallion to Mara. “Here it is. I was hoping to experience the same vibe with this as the original, but it just didn’t seem to have the same spiritual
oomph
to it. I sensed nothing from this.”

It was an exact duplicate. Mara would not have been able to distinguish it from the original. It covered her palm, just like the other one. She hefted it up and down, feeling its weight. Exactly the same. She ran her fingers over the blue azurite crystals that surrounded the center sunstone, then stroked the symbols between them, the symbols Ping had taught her represented the elements of perception and the elements of reality. She was amazed at how accurately Ned had recreated the Chronicle.

“This is absolutely astounding. It’s an exact duplicate,” she said, almost reverently.

He smiled at her and rubbed a finger over the face of the medallion “You seem to be getting more from it than I did. Perhaps you are more attuned to these runes than I am.”

Mara continued to stare at it. “Perhaps.”

“I would like you to have it,” Ned said.

“Oh, I was just hoping to borrow it, until we can recover the original. Would that be possible?”

“If you prefer, but I will probably just end up melting it down at some point for the metal and stones.”

“I wouldn’t want you to destroy it. What if we just bought it from you now instead of waiting?” Mara said, looking to her mother for support. Diana nodded.

“I couldn’t charge you for it. Even with the copper and gems, the materials didn’t even add up to a hundred dollars,” he said.

“What about your time?” Diana asked.

“If I wasn’t working on that, I would have been doing something else. It isn’t as if it took me away from doing the things I love.” He pantomimed, pushing it toward Mara. “Go ahead and take it. I insist.”

“It’s a pretty Chronicle,” Hannah said.

Ned smiled at her. “Is that what you call it, a Chronicle?”

“
The
Chronicle,” Hannah corrected, then added, as if it explained her credibility on the subject, “I’m from the future.”

Mara’s throat tightened, and she choked out a cough. Diana laughed nervously.

Ned didn’t seem to be put off a bit and replied, “Well, as old as I am, I guess you could say, I’m from the past.”

Ping’s Camry was parked at the curb in front of the Lantern house when Diana turned into the driveway. Sam was just emerging from the passenger side, and the interior lights of the car came on. Leaning down over the passenger seat so he could be seen, Ping waved but didn’t get out of the car. Mara jogged over to his window, and he lowered it.

“Why don’t you come in for dinner? We can catch up now that you are out of the hospital,” she said. “I’ve got a few things I’d like to pick your brain about.”

“That’s very kind of you, but, to be honest, I’m ready to have a quiet evening at home. It’s been a while since I’ve had one of those,” Ping said, smiling, but his eyes looked tired. “How about, if you come by the bakery tomorrow, I’ll make us some sandwiches for lunch?”

“That works,” she said. “You’re okay though? No lingering symptoms from the events of the other night? No rumblings from you-know-who, right?”

“I’m fine, and I think the dragon is asleep for the duration, a notion that strikes me as a wonderful idea.”

Mara lightly tapped the roof of the car and stepped back, as Ping pulled away from the curb. She watched his brake lights brighten at the end of the block, and stood there until the car turned at the corner and disappeared into the night.

“Hey, are you coming in?” Sam yelled, standing in the open front door. Everyone else had already gone inside.

Mara jogged up the driveway and the porch steps. Sam turned to go in, but Mara grabbed his arm and pulled him back outside the door.

“Hey, did you know Hannah will be gone before Christmas?” she asked.

Sam looked mildly confused. “What?”

“She says I told her that she would be back in the future before Christmas. Did she ever tell you that?”

“No, but I never asked her when she expected to return. I guess it never occurred to me,” he said. “Let’s go in. It’s getting chilly out here.”

Mara stuck her head in the door to see if anyone was in the living room. It appeared Diana and Hannah either went upstairs or into the kitchen. She waved Sam forward into the house. As she took off her jacket and hung it on the coat tree, she said, “Don’t you think it’s odd that she never told us?”

“Not particularly. If we didn’t think to ask her, why should she have thought to tell us? She is only five years old, you know.”

“Yes, Mom keeps reminding me of that,” she said.

Sam handed his coat to her, and she put it over her own on the coat tree. “Does it freak you out that she may be leaving soon? It seems like you’ve gotten used to having her around, even if it’s only been for nine days.”

“As long as she gets back okay, I think I’ll adjust. I mean, I’ve got to be better prepared to be a good father in the future than I am right now. Don’t you think?” he said.

“You’ve held your own just fine, considering the circumstances,” she said.

They walked toward the couch in the living room, when Mara stopped suddenly and held up a finger. She turned on her heel, walked back to the coat tree and dug under Sam’s coat to get to her own. After a moment she returned to the couch where Sam sat and handed him the medallion Ned had fabricated.

“Wow, this is a copy?” he said.

Mara nodded. “You can’t even tell the difference, can you?”

“Not at all. If you had told me that you had the original back, I would have believed you,” he said.

From the staircase, they heard Hannah clattering down the steps, talking loudly to her nana, whose regular, modulated footfalls trailed after her. Mara and Sam looked to the living room entryway just as the little girl bounded into the room with a shopping bag and announced, “I bought you brand new T-shirts!”

She sat down the bag directly in front of the fireplace and reached into it, her head disappearing inside for a second. After she straightened, she held a wad of black fabric out to them.

Sam took the shirts and asked, “Where did you get the money to buy us T-shirts, bean?”

“We didn’t need money. Nana let me use her credit card.”

Mara laughed. “That’s how I avoid the whole money thing too.”

Sam handed her one of the shirts, and Diana spoke from the entryway, where she leaned against the frame. “Hold them up. Let’s see.”

Mara shook the shirt in front of her and then held it up to her shoulders. “Whattaya think?” she asked.