The Crimson Brand (22 page)

He paced more quickly, leapt up into the ash, and resumed his pacing on the low limb he usually reserved for lounging.

“Then why bother telling us anything at all if there’s nothing we can do?”  Penny regretted the words as soon as they had passed her lips.  She thought she had just made Ronan’s point for him.

“Because the enemy has made his move.  He has involved himself with Susan and placed himself within striking distance.  You must be on your guard now more than ever.”

Ronan had said what he’d come to say, and before the girls could question him again he leapt down from his perch and sprinted back up the steep path out of the hollow.

“So,” Zoe said, grinding her teeth in frustration.  “We just have to let him do whatever he’s doing and just get over it if he never comes back.”

Katie shook her head in angry negation.

“No way,” Penny said.  “Not gonna happen.”

“What can we do?”  Katie seized on Ronan’s warning to Penny.  “Who was he talking about?  Who has involved himself with Susan?”

Penny was about to answer when Zoe did it for her.

“The bald guy in the banker suit!”  Zoe punched her fist into the palm of her other hand.  “That guy who’s trying to buy Clover Hill!”

Katie looked blankly from one to the other.  “Who?” 

They told her about Morgan Duke, the well-dressed gentleman with the Southern accent and creepy son.

“So we’ll find out everything we can about the Dukes and what they’re doing here,” Penny said.

“And maybe that will give us a clue about what Ronan is up to,” Zoe said.

“I’ll ask Michael if he’s heard anything about them,” Katie said.  “My dad always complains that you can’t buy a cup of coffee in this town without the Prices getting a cut.  Maybe Sheriff Price has mentioned him to Michael.” 

 “Duke is taking Susan to lunch right now.  Where in Dogwood could a guy like him take a…,” Penny stumbled over the next word, “… a date?”

“In Dogwood?”  Katie laughed.  “Grumpy’s or The Rail.  I’d bet on The Rail.”

Penny knew The Rail, at the furthest end of West Main Street, but had never been inside.  From the outside it looked classier than a typical bar, but it was a bar, so they wouldn’t be getting in there to spy on Susan’s …
shudder
… date.

Penny felt like doing something about the Morgan Duke situation, but for now there was nothing they could do.  Not until Katie had a chance to talk to Michael.

“Well,” Penny said, feeling that they could at least accomplish something in the time until then.  “How about those flying lessons?”

*   *   *

Zoe’s and Katie’s first time in the air went about as well as Penny had expected.  They were both airborne by that afternoon, which was progress as far as Penny was concerned.  The only limitation they found was that each of them could only use her own bike, but as Zoe pointed out, it was probably good that random people wouldn’t be able to jump on one of their bikes and fly off unexpectedly.

“I should get home before Dad does,” Katie said.  “I’m still supposed to be grounded.”

“Me too.” Zoe put down the wand she was working on.  Drilling the tip out by hand was slow work, made slower by her worry about messing it up.  She set the wand inside the chest with the others, and Penny slipped the book in on top of them, locking it with the Phoenix key she wore around her neck day and night.  After a moment’s consideration she removed the key and searched for a safe place to hide it in the hollow.

“What are you doing?”  asked Katie.  She had been admiring her new wand before putting it to use on the door to go home.  Now her eyes followed Penny.

“Looking for a place to hide this.”  Penny held up the key from the worn leather strap that served as a necklace.  “It’s not fair that you two can’t open the chest without me here.”

Zoe and Katie seemed shocked, but pleased.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”  Zoe voiced Penny’s own concern.

“No one ever comes here but us,” Katie argued.  “It’ll be safe.”

After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Penny dropped to her knees and hid it under the edge of one of the rocks by the fire pit.

Resisting the urge to fly back to town, Katie opened the door to her room and pushed her bike through.  “See you tonight.”

A few moments later Zoe pushed her old ugly bike through and into hers.  “Later!”

Penny wasn’t ready to leave, but she knew Susan would be home by now.  Susan was trusting and patient about Penny’s frequent lengthy absences, but even she had her limits. 

“Penny?”

The voice startled her.  She’d been convinced she was alone.

“Ronan?”

He appeared over the edge of the trail and leapt down to her.  “Susan is back now.  That man just left.”

Penny nodded but said nothing.  She was still irritated with Ronan for losing his temper and wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. 

“Holding a grudge?”  There was no anger in Ronan’s voice now, only a weary kind of resignation.

Penny crossed her arms and said nothing.

Ronan nodded, as if answering his own question.  “How did the flying lessons go?”

“What do you want?”  Penny moved a few steps closer to the door, hoping to communicate her desire to get away from him as politely as possible. 

Ronan sighed.

“I want you to fetch the egg I gave you for your birthday and bring it back here.”

Penny blushed, beginning to feel slightly ashamed of her anger, which only made her angrier.  She turned her back on him and left the hollow without a word to him, and stepped back through a minute later with the egg in her hand.

“So … what is it exactly?”

“You’ll see when it hatches,” Ronan said, and winked at her.

Still not ready to forgive him, Penny didn’t respond to his playfulness.  “So, do I have to sit on it or what?”

Ronan laughed, and Penny felt a pang of renewed guilt at the sound.  His laughter sounded forlorn.  “Nothing like that.  Only intense heat will hatch that egg.  Just hold on to it and do what comes naturally.”

“Ronan ... I ….”

“Don’t, Penny.  I don’t blame you for being angry with me.  I just hope you’ll understand that I’m only trying to protect you.”  He shrugged.  “I’ve never had children before, never expected to.”

The words touched Penny more deeply than she could have expected, and she steeled her resolve to find out what he was doing, where he was going, so that if something did happen they could find him, help him, even if he didn’t want them too.

“It’s time now, Penny.  Open your present.”

Penny held the large gray egg in her cupped hands and did what came naturally to her.  She felt the prickle of energy running down her arms, into her hands, and the rising heat.  She focused on it, not just letting it come but calling it out.  Flames rose between her cupped hands, surrounding the egg.  She narrowed her focus, concentrating on keeping the flames from spreading, pouring more heat into them. 

She felt the heat as it climbed, saw the flames change from bright red to orange.  The tingling in her hands grew stronger, turning into an almost unbearable itch, and, though her skin also began to glow red, the flames didn’t burn her.

The flames danced between her cupped hands, and the egg began to change.  The dull stone began to shine, then to grow slightly translucent.  The deeper gray spots that freckled it began to move, grow, shrink, and Penny realized that she was seeing the thing inside the egg now, moving as the heat roused it.

“More heat,” Ronan said.  “It needs more.”

Penny felt the rest of her body begin to cool as she concentrated on increasing the heat of her flames.  They danced frenetically in the palms of her hands, dimming from orange to white.

Ronan backed away, turning his face from her cupped hands.

Penny saw a fallen leaf by her feet begin to dry and shrivel, then disintegrate in a puff of smoke.  Steam rose from the ground.

The egg began to shake in her hand.

“Ronan … what’s happening?”  Penny felt faint.  A cold sweat covered her face.

“It’s hatching,” he said.  “You’ve done it!”

The egg lurched in her hand; it felt as if something were kicking from within.  A crack appeared at the end, spreading slowly down the middle, widening until Penny could see inside.

Something was looking at her.

She screamed and dropped the egg.  It hit the ground, smoking, setting the grass around it on fire.

The flames in her hands flared bright red for a moment, then extinguished.

Penny dropped heavily onto the nearest rock and shook, cold all over.  Ronan was beside her a moment later.

“I feel … cold.”  Penny began to shiver and was grateful when Ronan climbed onto her lap, sharing his warmth.  She hugged him to her, knowing how uncomfortable it made him but not caring.

“It’ll pass,” he said, sounding unconcerned but snuggling more tightly.

He was watching the egg on the ground, intent, unblinking, and Penny turned her attention to it.

It shivered, then rolled.  The thing inside kicked again, and the crack in the shell grew, sprouting new fissures. 

“Let me go,” Ronan said.  “You must be the first thing it sees.”

Penny reluctantly loosened her grip on him, then slid down to the ground next to the egg.  Her body’s heat and her strength were already returning, but she still felt shaky. 

Ronan retreated further but kept his eyes on the egg.

With one last shudder, the egg shattered.  Flecks of stone flew through the air, peppering Penny’s face, and a tiny gray hand emerged from the shattered remains of the stone shell.

“What is it?”  Penny demanded, resisting the urge to get as far away from the emerging thing as possible.

“A Homunculus,” Ronan said.  “A rare creature, moderately intelligent, and very loyal.”

The tiny hand gripped a piece of the shell and pushed it aside.  Penny saw a pencil-thin body and two arms as narrow as pine needles.  A disproportionately large foot kicked away more shell, revealing the lower half of its tiny body.

“And what am I supposed to do with it?”  Penny flinched as it swept away more of the shattered shell, and the head appeared.  Like the hands and feet, it was disproportionately large.  Completely bald, the Homunculus’s head looked like a sphere of polished granite, with only a small dark line of a mouth, a tiny little speck of a nose, and eyes that took up most of the top half.

The eyes were milky white.  Penny thought it looked blind.

“It connects with the first person it sees,” Ronan said, his voice hushed now.  “It will do anything for that person.”

The eyes seemed to search blindly, above and around its large head, then settled on Penny’s face.  The creature stilled, and for a second Penny was afraid it had died.  It looked like a tiny, malformed statue.  Then its eyes began to change, shifting from the pure dead white to a pale green.  The green deepened and small black dots of pupils appeared, growing and adjusting to the low light in the hollow.  When they had achieved the exact bright green shade of Penny’s eyes, they stopped.

Penny heard a thought in her head, a thought she knew wasn’t hers.

Mine
?

The thing moved then, shifted slightly in her direction, and lifted its arms to reach for her; and in that moment any fear of the creature departed.  Penny felt only concern for it.  She reached down and scooped it from the rubble of its stone shell.

It fit easily in one cupped hand.

It regarded her solemnly for a long moment, then curled up in her hand, hugging its knobbly knees to its chest, closed its eyes, and seemed to sleep.

Penny regarded it as it lay there, motionless, hard as stone, like a tiny statue.

“Now what?”  She regarded Ronan.  “How do I take care of it?”

Penny felt out of her depths.  She’d never even babysat before.

“You don’t have to.  It’ll mature in a few weeks, maybe a month, and take care of itself.”

“Until then?”

“Bury it.”

“Bury it?”  Penny could hardly believe her ears.

“Yes,” Ronan said impatiently.  “Somewhere where no one will disturb it.  It’ll dig its way out when it’s ready.”

“Bury it,” she repeated under her breath, then decided, not for the first time since meeting Ronan, just to go with it and do what he said.  It was getting late in the day for more aggravation, and Penny still had homework to do.

“And Penny?”

“What?”  She tried to keep her voice even and polite as possible, but it was becoming hard work.  At least she wasn’t shaking anymore.

“You’ll have to think of a name for it while it’s maturing.  It’s important, so pick a good one.”

And Ronan was off again, leaving Penny alone in the gathering dusk.

Monday mornings on the Dogwood School grounds were always chaotic, and the anticipation of the spring vacation amplified the usual unruliness.  Students huddled in groups and pairs, making and discussing their plans for the coming vacation.

“We’re going to Westport,” one young girl said to her morose friend, locking her bike in place beside Penny’s.  “There’s a beach by the campground that’s always covered with sand dollars!”

“I get to help with spring cleaning,” her friend said, and kicked the tire of her own bike in frustration.

Oblivious to her friend’s less-than-cheerful reception to her news, the girl said.  “Don’t worry, I’ll bring one back for you.”

The excited girl bounced off toward the school building, her less-than-enthusiastic friend trudging along behind her.

“That would be nice,” Zoe said, shoving her bike in on Penny’s other side.  “I haven’t been to the coast in a couple years.”

Penny agreed silently.  One of the things she missed most about San Francisco was frequent trips to the ocean and the sound of the tide crashing in on the shore.

“Maybe we can talk Susan into taking us this summer,” Penny said.  “If we’re still alive by then, that is.”