The One Safe Place (15 page)

“Only safe way to tell if they’re heat sensitive is with this stick,” he said.

“Go on, then,” Malloy urged, “Throw it over!”

Luke swung his arm far back and hurled the glowing stick. For half a second they watched it, bright against the dark sky. It flew past the post and landed in a dusty patch on the far side. They waited, holding their breath.

“Nothing!” Luke said in disgust. He sat down heavily on the ground and began chewing his lip.

Malloy was still peering after the burning stick. “It’s gone to join all the other stuff,” he remarked. “Wonder if it’ll set my underpants on fire . . .”

“I don’t get it,” Luke said. “If it’s not triggered by heat . . . perhaps it’s set off by a heartbeat.”

The others sat down, disappointed. Devin leaned against the trunk of a tree and looked up. The sky was clear and the stars looked very close, as if they were hanging like decorations from the branches. He gazed at them, marking their familiar places. Kit crept up and joined him.

“What do they look like to you?” she asked him.

“Why’d you say that? They’re stars.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, okay,” Devin said uncertainly. “It’s the sound first, isn’t it?”

It was a keen, sharp sound like a knife running over stone, although it didn’t feel as if it would cut him. It was more like a long, tingling shiver in his fingers, and then immediately afterward came the echo, and the echo sent out circles, like ripples on the surface of a still pond when a stone is thrown. The circles were gold, but only faintly, so that he felt them more in the back of his eyes and on the tip of his fingers, like something slippery that he couldn’t get ahold of for more than a second.

“That’s why you keep looking at stars, isn’t it?” Devin said. “Because you feel you can almost hold them.” He stopped, a little out of breath, feeling foolish for describing something so very obvious. Kit was staring at him with a peculiar expression on her face. Luke and Malloy stared at him too.

“What?” Devin said.

“Do you hear sounds and feel stuff when you look at everything?” Kit said at last.

“Not everything. Lots of things are sort of flat and don’t make any noise at all.”

“It’s, like, your imagination, right?” Luke suggested. “You see and hear things in your mind. That’s what it is.”

“No, of course not!” Devin protested. “It’s just what’s there, it’s not made up.” He looked from one to the other. “Don’t you see it too?”

“You don’t understand, do you?” Kit said. Frisker shifted in her arms and she gripped him tighter. “We don’t hear or feel anything when we look at the stars.”

“Color is just color!” Malloy burst out. “Sound is just sound, taste is just taste; shapes don’t have feelings, and feelings don’t have shapes! But it’s like you’ve got them all twisted and tangled.

“It sounds kind of cool, though,” he added kindly.

“There! You said it sounded cool,” Devin argued, “So you do feel sounds . . .”

Malloy shook his head. “Just a figure of speech, Strange Boy.”

“I thought everyone saw things the same way,” Devin said in a low voice. “I didn’t know I was different.”

“It’s like a secret power!” Kit said, very excited. “Only, secret powers have to be useful, like X-ray vision or invisibility. What’s the use of hearing colors and feeling noises if—”

She was interrupted by the sound of rustling. It was coming from a bush on the other side of the post. The children froze. In the sudden silence, the rustling came again. A cautious nose and pair of long ears appeared between the leaves and then, after a second or two, a small hare hopped into view, looked around, lifted a long back leg, and gave itself a good scratch.

Frisker leaped out of Kit’s arms.

“Frisker, no!”

The puppy bounded forward, past the post, barking at the top of its tiny lungs. The hare vanished. Kit ran forward a few steps. She was almost at the post now.

“He went through!”

“Doesn’t mean you can too,” Luke said in a sharp voice. “Don’t go a single step closer.”

“Please, Frisker,” Kit begged. She dropped to her knees. The dog looked at her, barked again, and raced back. “Good boy!” Kit cried, but Frisker swerved and tore past her, hurtling through the undergrowth in high excitement.

“What if he goes back past the posts again? I’ll lose him,” Kit wailed.

Ansel was standing by himself a few feet away. He had followed the others when they left the camp but had taken no part in the conversation, seeming uninterested in the posts or Devin’s talk of stars. There was a dull look on his face, and he moved sluggishly, as if he was half asleep. Even the drama with Frisker had failed to rouse him, but now he lifted his head. The dog had appeared again, tearing down the path. He was four feet away when Ansel suddenly moved with instinctive, lightning speed. He leaped forward and dived head first toward the dog, catching him in his arms, his face smashing hard into the ground.

He scrambled to his feet, grinning. For a moment, he looked like his old self.

“You got him!” Kit cried, rushing forward. “That was amazing.”

“Knew all that goalie practice would come in useful one day!” Ansel said.

“You’re completely obsessed with soccer, you know that?” Luke said.

Ansel handed Frisker back to Kit. “You’re hurt!” she cried. There was a large graze on Ansel’s cheek. It was already oozing blood, and Kit rummaged for a handkerchief and wiped it gently. “It’s nothing,” Ansel said, although he held still while she looked after him, his eyes fixed on her face.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Luke said. “Frisker crossed the post without setting off the laser. That proves that it’s not triggered by heat or a heartbeat. It must be wired to respond only to humans. Otherwise it’d be going off all the time when animals cross. I was thinking we could somehow fool it, but I don’t see how we can stop being human.”

Malloy stared at the ground and rubbed his head.

“It’s a shame Frisker isn’t trained in search and rescue,” he said, glancing at the puppy. “He could search for someone to rescue us.”

Malloy’s face grew thoughtful. “Do you think any animal could get past the posts?” he asked Luke.

“Seems that way,” Luke said. “Come on. We’ve got to get back. We don’t want them to catch us wandering around.”

They turned to leave.

“Hey!” Luke called. “Where are you going, Malloy? The camp’s in the other direction.”

“I just have to visit with Fulsome,” Malloy said. He trotted off and disappeared down the path toward the farmyard.

The others walked back quickly, worried that they had been missed. But the camp was quiet. Two or three of the tents had lights on inside; the rest were dark. Devin was a little behind the others. Passing between two tents, one in darkness, the other lit from within, he heard low voices.

“She rode all day on her horse; it carried her far away to a castle by the sea . . .”

It was Roman’s voice. Devin paused and heard Megs whisper, “What happened to the Princess of Fire then?”

“The Red Witch’s armies were all around the castle and there was nothing to eat,” Roman replied. “The Princess of Fire got very hungry. In the end she only had one sandwich left.”

“That’s real bad.”

“Yes, it was. She decided to eat one half of the sandwich the first day and then one half of that the next. At last she was down to a single crumb that couldn’t be cut in half no matter how small the knife she used.”

“And then she was rescued?”

“Yes. The Black King came and fought all the armies. Nobody could stop him. He saved her.”

“You’re good at stories, Roman. Really good.”

“I used to tell them to my little sister.”

“She was lost . . .”

“Yes.” Roman’s voice was suddenly fierce. “But you won’t be. I won’t let it happen to you.”

Devin suddenly felt uncomfortable about eavesdropping and continued on to his own tent. He crawled inside and found Ansel already asleep. Luke lay wide-eyed, his hands clenched into fists on his sleeping bag.

“Did you see Malloy?” he whispered.

“No.”

“I wish he’d come back,” Luke muttered. “He was upset about the posts. Not many people can tell when Malloy’s upset. But I can. I know him. If I could just figure out how those posts operate . . .” His voice trailed off.

Devin closed his eyes and thought of Roman and Megs and the armies of the Red Witch and the broad back of his grandfather, knee deep in the meadow, cutting hay for Glancer. Then he slept, deeply and without dreams, only stirring slightly when Malloy entered the tent sometime later.

“That pig’s a genius, I tell you,” Malloy told him. “Fulsome will get us out.”

But Devin had fallen back asleep again.

Thirteen

DEVIN WOKE EARLY.
THERE
was a thin film of dew on the outside of the tent. He stared at it carefully. It made the tent fabric glitter a bit, he thought, but perhaps he was the only one who saw it that way. It also made a ticking sound, which he felt on the back of his hands, but again, he didn’t know if that was normal or not. Since the conversation about the stars, everything he saw and heard was suddenly up for question. How strangely everyone had looked at him! But he knew they were telling the truth. Hadn’t the Administrator told him he was unusual? He’d been feeling too sick at the time to pay real attention. But she’d said he was one in ten million and she’d used a word for it, something scientific. Devin didn’t remember what it was. Luke would probably know, but Devin didn’t want to ask him. He didn’t want to be one in ten million.

It made him feel lonely.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Mrs. Babbage clapping her hands.

“Time to wake up! Rise and shine, everyone!”

“What the heck?” Malloy grunted in outrage, burrowing deeper into his sleeping bag.

“Everyone up! I have a special announcement.” There was a flustered edge to Mrs. Babbage’s voice, and Devin crawled over to the tent flap and stuck out his head. Around him, other bewildered children were starting to emerge, their hair tangled from sleep. Mrs. Babbage stood by the remains of the campfire, waving her arms in anxiety.

“Everyone up!”

In a little while, they were all standing around her, blinking and rubbing their eyes.

“I have a special announcement,” Mrs. Babbage repeated. “The special announcement is that the Administrator has a special announcement. She wants to see all of you at once. You have half an hour to clean yourselves up. I want teeth brushed and clothes clean! She won’t be pleased if you look untidy. Hurry now! Hurry!”

By eight o’clock, they’d gathered in the courtyard, buzzing with chatter and questions. The staff members had assembled as well. Devin had been right, there were many more of them working at the Home than it seemed. The Administrator’s announcement must be really momentous, he thought, to make them stop work like that.

All eyes were fixed on the tower. Mrs. Babbage was hovering by the door, frantically smoothing her hair and adjusting her cardigan.

The door opened and everyone fell silent.

The Administrator was wearing a suit so sharp and white that the light seemed to bounce clean off her. The suit had no visible buttons or pockets, and the lapels were broad, spreading like wings against her chest. She held herself stiff, as if gripped by great excitement.

“Late last night I had news of the utmost importance. We are about to receive a visit.” Her hands were pressed together almost as if she was praying. “In the history of the Home, it has never happened before. It is an honor of the highest kind.”

“What’s she talking about?” Kit whispered in Devin’s ear.

“An honor!” the Administrator repeated. Her voice rose. “We are about to receive a visit from none other than Gabriel H. Penn himself. Inventor, founder, and president of this home!”

Mrs. Babbage’s hand shot up and covered her mouth. Murmurs filled the courtyard.

The Administrator waited for her news to sink in, then held her hands up for silence.

“My father must have the best experience possible. His visit must be perfect in every single way.” There was an edge to her voice that held everyone’s attention. “The grounds will be groomed down to the last blade of grass,” she continued, addressing the staff. “Surfaces will be wiped and repainted if necessary. All trash will be removed. Windows will be washed. Every floor will be swept and every piece of glass and cutlery polished. The Home must look like a paradise.”