Secrets of Yden (9 page)

****

With a half-hour to kill before dinner, Jon bought a soda from the bar in the lobby, settled into a comfortable chair, and reflected on the fact Charles was getting a barracuda for a sister-in-law. He'd read
Taming of the Shrew
in his Shakespeare class last term. In the play, the two sisters were complete opposites — sweet Bianca and Katherina the shrew. January was Katherina the shrew come to life, right off the page.
Unlike Petruchio,
I have no interest in taming that particular shrew.

He had to admit January was a masterful actress. In
Immortal Soule
she'd actually made him care about her. In person, however, she'd awakened an overwhelming urge to grab her cell phone and stomp it into oblivion. Before he'd met her, he'd actually thought she was pretty. Now, as far as he was concerned, the girl may as well have horns sticking out of her head.
Maybe she does, and she hides them under her baseball cap.

When Charles and Lynn pushed their way through the big revolving door and into the lobby just before six o'clock, Jon slapped a grin on his face and jumped to his feet.

"Hey." He shook his uncle's hand in greeting.

"You look so handsome!" Lynn exclaimed.

"Coat and tie and everything." Charles gave Jon two thumbs up.

"How'd it go at the airport?" Lynn asked. "Were you able to connect with Jan okay?"

"No problems at all," Jon replied. "She's really… something."

Despite his complete and utter disdain for the girl, he'd suffer a thousand Imp-bites before he'd say anything uncomplimentary about Lynn's sister. Charles would be meeting her shortly and could form his own opinion — poor guy.

Lynn glanced over to where Jon had been sitting. "Where is Jan? I was hoping you'd be getting to know each other."

"She's relaxing in her room, I believe," Jon replied. "You might try her on her cell phone."

Lynn dialed January's cell, but the line was busy. Jon wasn't surprised.

"The big silly must have her phone turned off," Lynn said. "I'll go up and get her, and you two can meet us in the restaurant."

Jon gave Lynn January's room number and then accompanied Charles into the Red Carpet Restaurant, just off the lobby.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a big steak," Charles said.

"A big fat stake sounds good right about now," Jon muttered, thinking about the monster in Suite 1004.

****

Charles was on his second beer by the time Lynn and January arrived. January had donned a stunning dress, her hair was twisted up and anchored by a glittery comb, and she was in full makeup. Oozing sweetness and warmth, she projected her movie star persona full throttle. Heads turned when January and Lynn walked in, arm and arm. As the ladies approached their table, Charles and Jon stood.

January offered her hand to Charles, along with a dazzling smile. "It's so nice to meet you at last, Charles. What a pleasure!"

"Call me Chaz. It's great to meet you, too," he replied. "And of course you've already met my nephew, Jon."

January's smile only slipped a little. She inclined her head to one side as she regarded him. "Jon Hansen."

A broad grin spread across his face. "Miss Jane."

Oh, this is going to be a lovely meal.

****

Jon was fascinated by the way January worked the table. She absolutely had Lynn fooled as to her true nature, and Charles seemed enchanted as well. January knew Jon was on to her, but she didn't sweat a drop. She batted her lashes and actually flirted with him. He played along and flirted right back, which prompted a pleased glance or two between Lynn and Charles over dinner. When the last cappuccino was served, January gave a regretful sigh.

"I hate to turn in, but I've got a full morning of interviews to do tomorrow," she said with a pretty pout. "Maybe Jon could walk me to the elevator?"

"Of course." Jon stood and held her chair for her. "Good night Chaz and Lynn, and thanks for dinner."

"Thanks for taking such good care of my sister," Lynn replied.

As soon as January and Jon walked out of the restaurant, she dropped the act. "You little creep," she murmured. "You let me think you were a hired chauffeur."

"Oh, that's good," he whispered. "You behave like a spoiled brat, treat me like dirt, and then blame me. That's brilliant."

"You could have said something at any point."

"Like I could have come between and your cell phone," he retorted. "When I tried, you gave me money to go away."

"You took it!"

"Yeah, well, if you're looking for a refund of your twenty bucks, you're out of luck," he said with a snarl. "I gave it to the bellman to kiss your ring."

At the elevator, Jon punched the button with the meaty part of his fist. The door slid open right away. "Look, Your Highness, all I care about is making sure Chaz and Lynn have a great wedding. So I'll go along with your phony self, but don't ever forget I know who you are."

"Oh yeah?" January sneered. "Choke on it."

She disappeared inside the elevator and the doors closed. He laughed and shook his head. It had been a stupid, wasted evening, and now he'd have to stay up late to cram for a math quiz. Furthermore, it appeared as if a case of dengue fever was in his future.
I'd just as soon ask a cygard to homecoming than January Beck.

****

In art class the next morning, Jon drew a charcoal sketch of January with sharp fangs. When the lunch bell rang, Mr. Emerson asked him to wait. As the other students were filing out of the classroom, Mr. Emerson handed him a glossy tri-fold.

"This is the promotional brochure the museum is mailing out this week to their subscribers. I thought you might like a copy.
"

Inside the brochure was a separate insert featuring Jon's participation in the exhibit. At the top, Lenny's photograph showed him with a kind of broody, smoldering look in his eyes.

"Holy moley," Jon said, shocked. "Who's that?"

"That's all you, kiddo. To the max."

Jon read through the written information on the card. The museum had misspelled his collection
Secrets of Eden
instead of
Secrets of Yden
, but the error was actually his own fault since he'd never told Mr. Emerson the different spelling. And there was his bio, such as it was.

"Hey, this calls me a prodigy!" The tips of his ears burned. "I didn't write that, and I'm hardly a prodigy."

"Sure you are. You're an unusually talented young person. Go with the flow, man."

On the back of the card were photographs of
Warrior Princess
,
Unicorn Foal,
and
Imp
. Overall, it was pretty impressive.

"Gnarly, huh?" Mr. Emerson said. "The time and date for the preview night is the second Thursday in October."

"My uncle is coming with me. Is that okay?"

"It's groovy. I'll be looking for you."

Jon folded up the brochure with the insert card and slipped it inside his book bag. He was secretly rather pleased with the way the insert card had turned out, but if Max ever saw his ridiculous photo, he'd never live it down.

****

As Friday afternoon wore on, Jon became dopey from lack of sleep. So it was with an uneasy feeling he rolled into math class to face the quiz. Formulas were flipping around in his brain like microwave popcorn. As the test began, he rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath and pulled the paper toward him.
I'll just have to wade through.
At least his teacher, Mr. Glaser, gave partial credit toward trying to solve the problems.
Maybe I'll manage a D+ by writing my name.

The test was horrible. At first glance, the two problems seemed doable in an hour. But the first was a nasty word problem, and the second one was a proof. Jon skimmed the word problem and couldn't make sense of it at all. So he decided to tackle the proof first and hope he had time to work the word problem at the end.

All around him he could hear the sound of pencils on paper and people shifting in their seats. It was annoying and his concentration kept wandering. When Mr. Glaser announced there were fifteen minutes left, Jon freaked. He'd only worked halfway through the second problem and done nothing on the first.
I'm so toast!
He redoubled his efforts to concentrate and finally hit a sweet spot. He tuned everything else out and finished the proof at last.

He went back to the first problem and re-read it a couple of times until he could figure out how to begin.
I'll never be able to finish it, but maybe I can rack up some partial credit points.
He wrote madly until he knew it could only be a matter of seconds before the end of the class. In a rush, he checked the clock on the wall and was stunned to see he still had almost fifteen minutes left.
What?
Confused and slightly disoriented, he realized the quiet solitude he'd enjoyed was because time had stopped.
I've been in the middle of an anomaly and I didn't even know it.

He suddenly had that perspective Quixoran had encouraged.

A heartbeat later, Jon nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a pencil dropping to the floor. He must have had a crazed look on his face because he caught Mr. Glaser's eye. Concerned, the math teacher glanced at Jon's paper to check his progress.

"It's okay, Jon, you've still got plenty of time to finish," he murmured, smiling his encouragement.

Wide-eyed, Jon nodded, bent his head over his quiz and tried not to think about the end of the world. He scribbled out the last few parts of the answer with at least a minute to spare. As he checked his work, he could almost hear Quixoran's voice in his head, telling him if the anomaly began to get longer, that would be bad. Very bad.

I guess it's as good a time as any to panic.

****

With a sense of impending doom pressing in on him, Jon drove home after school, grabbed his transporter cuff, and transported to Dragon Isle. When he materialized in the dining area underneath the tree house, Cressidia sent him to Dragonhenge, where his grandfather was coaching apprentices in sparring. Jon waved, and after Quixoran instructed the apprentices to carry on, he joined him out of earshot.

"It happened again," Jon said. "Time stopped today for about ten minutes."

Quixoran ran his hand through his hair "That's not comforting."

"The last anomaly was almost three weeks ago, and it lasted less than a minute. This one was longer. What are we going to do?"

"I won't mislead you, Jon. I'm extremely concerned," he acknowledged. "But I don't believe we have enough information to call a formal summit at the Wizards' Consortium. With only two occurrences, a pattern has yet to emerge."

"If we wait for a pattern, it might be too late!"

"I'll make some discreet inquiries. Perhaps some of the more knowledgeable wizards have some experience with this time phenomenon."

"Do you think there's anything helpful in Efysian's library?"

"It's possible. Perhaps you can examine the scrolls that have yet to be cataloged. Why don't you assemble a team of apprentices to assist you?"

Over the summer, Kira and Jon had teamed up to search for a locator spell in Efysian's scrolls, which were written in runes. Although he wasn't perfect at rune translation, Jon's desperate search for the locator spell had sharpened his skills considerably. Finn could help this time, since the Yden-born wizard had been reading runes since he was small. He was actually exceptionally good with runes, having learned from the late wizard scribe Amanzo. Jon wondered if Casey could cut loose some time as well, since he'd become quite good at rune translation too.

"I'll start tomorrow."

"In the meantime, Jon, resume your normal activities. You won't solve this problem by worry alone."

"Yes, sir."

"Would you like to join the sparring? A little exercise might be just what you need," Quixoran said.

"I wish I could, but I have to go home to finish my mural for the homecoming dance. I'll be back late."

"Enjoy yourself. Remember, it's your senior year in high school."

Jon nodded, but as he transported home, he wondered if he could enjoy himself at all, considering each moment could be the last.