Of Delicate Pieces (7 page)

“Did you not use that flower I gave you? Everything will work out. The world wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I guess I’m still trying to figure out if this craze is good or bad.”

Skye looked her up and down as they climbed the steps to the learning center. “You want to be like everyone else? She who likes to make noise when she walks?”

“Well, no.”

“All right, then.” The red in Skye’s hair lightened. “I came to that conclusion a long time ago. Craze comes with the territory. You can’t have it all. If you want to stand out, you are going to have to sacrifice a little bit of privacy, and if that means people stare at you while you and Chase make out in the street, then fine.”

“We don’t do that.”

“Please. You’re all over each other.”

They entered Duvall’s macabre classroom, wallpapered with vials of slime, frames of gray bones, and the moaning of rot. Above their heads, thousands of tiny glass tubes and flasks swayed and clanked together, harmonizing a symphony that sounded vaguely familiar.
Carnival of the Animals
, Alex’s mind told her. The lopsided office door opened, and Duvall stuck out her head of raggedy hair. She grinned upward at the field of glass and jerked her arms around to direct the music.

Alex slid into a desk next to the aquarium, pretending she didn’t feel left out when Skye and Duvall began their usual gossiping. Duvall never asked Alex for her observations, only Skye. How in the world did Skye know that the trees had a lousy night? How did she know that the fountain mist in the vestibule needed to be refreshed? How did she know that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred in the courtyard that morning?

Many times Alex attempted to interrupt their ridiculous conversations, but before she could form words, Duvall stomped her foot and Alex’s thoughts flattened against the ground of her mind.

Duvall snapped her knobby fingers. “Alex, did Skye get a chance to look at Sephi’s letters?”

Skye retracted and crinkled her nose. “Oh, I sure did.”

“What’s wrong?”

Skye shuddered. “The second I touched that devil box, it snapped at me like a guard dog.”

Alex swore she heard the box snarl that day. “Skye cowered in the corner and cried.”

“I don’t like that thing. I think you should bury it and never look at it again.”

“Cobwebs!” For Duvall, this was a curse word. She pushed up the sleeves of her layers of wool to reveal deathly skinny arms. “I’m not responsible for the personalities of my creations, but the box served its purpose. It kept Sephi’s treasures safe.”

Skye moaned. “Please tell me that what you have in mind for us this morning has nothing to do with those letters.”

“You’re in luck. The task I have for you is simple. Travel down the river and to the edge of our boundaries on the western side of the city. Remember the tree with the bark that coils and twists like ribbons?”

This didn’t sound simple to Alex. The new workshops would begin in a few hours, and she didn’t want to exert all of her energy playing go-fetch.

“You know which one I speak of?”

“Yes,” Skye replied.

“I need some of the bark.”

“How much?” Before Skye even finished the question, Duvall was handing her a burlap sack.

“Fill it, please.” She handed another one to Alex.

“That’s a big—”

Skye shushed her. “I’ve seen the tree before. The banana slugs love it. Are you making more Thymoserum?”

A box waited on the floor by their feet. Duvall used her mind to transfer multiple vials from the ceiling into the box. “It isn’t for my own personal use. No matter the level of intelligence and study in the Broderick Division of Science, they still don’t make Thymoserum as effectively as I do. They don’t appreciate the diligence of doing something by hand nor do they understand the temperament of botanicals and the attitudes of minerals.”

With that, she shooed them away.

Alex struggled to keep up with Skye. She felt frazzled, and it showed. No matter how hard she concentrated, she kept looking down at mismatched clothes, and her hair fell annoyingly in front of her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Skye asked. “Is it the Eskers kids?”

They would be there today. Alex couldn’t avoid them during workshops.

“Stop worrying. You’re making the air shake. There’s nothing harmful about those kids except for overeagerness and botched ambition.”

Alex wished she could believe that. She reminded herself that considering Skye’s lack of consciousness during the Eskers battle and beating last spring, she didn’t carry the same traumatic memories as Alex.

“Have you seen them since the Grandiuse?”

Alex shook her head.

They kept quiet until they reached a ramose creek, which divided like driveways in a cul-de-sac. Alex stopped, but Skye continued to tread along a path running parallel to the leftmost branch of the creek.

Alex concentrated on her feet so she wouldn’t leave tracks in the mud. Or get it on her shoes. “Where do these creeks lead?”

“Coming up soon.”

As they traveled, the water quieted until it became silent. They reached a lone pier, leading to a simple wooden cottage. As if finding this in the middle of the woods wasn’t strange enough, the water whitened, frozen around the pier despite the heat. If she tried hard enough, Alex could hear the icy water screaming.

“Who lives here?”

Skye shrugged. “Not sure, but each part of the creek leads to a different house.”

“Is the tree here?”

“Not far now.” She ignored Alex’s exaggerated sigh. “I don’t think you realize how far we’ve gone so quickly.”

“Where are we?”

“A few miles from campus.”

“
Miles?
”

“You concentrated on following me. I concentrated on projecting us places.”

No wonder Alex felt dizzy.

Skye shook her shoulders in a little dance. “That’s why I didn’t tell you what I was doing. You question everything. Even right now. There’s a question hanging off your lips. I can see it dangling there.”

Alex wiped her mouth. “You projected us forward? Why didn’t you do the same thing last spring in Parrish when we went looking for Chase and Jonas? Why did we run instead?”

“Because I was following
you
that day. I didn’t know those woods. We can only project ourselves if we can see where we’re going. And I couldn’t really explain that to you then because we were in a hurry.” She spun in a circle. “Isn’t this cool? No one usually travels this far away from the buildings.”

“I can see why.” Alex glanced back at the mossy path behind them, wondering if she’d get too terribly lost trying to find her way home. Their company only included monstrous redwood tree trunks and the sounds of nature. Alex zeroed in on the squeaking of squirrel talk. They argued over which direction to travel. Alex wasn’t sure how she knew their language, but she did. “I might go back. I want to get my things ready for the workshops.”

“We have plenty of time.”

Alex couldn’t think of a legitimate excuse. Peeling the bark from a tree didn’t sound stimulating, and a trek through the forest didn’t help.

Skye’s face brightened. “Want me to show you something?”

Not really.

“A secret.”

Alex perked up. “Are you finally going to explain how you know so much?”

“Huh?” Skye stiffened. “No. It’s something here.”

Alex took in their surroundings: trees, bushes, plants, dirt, and pinecones. “No offense, but it looks the same as the rest of the forest.”

“Wait.” Skye lifted a finger to her lips and moved soundlessly through the brush.

“How do you find this tree without anything to mark where you are?”

Skye stopped. “This stays between us, but the first time Duvall sent me to find the bark she needed, I got lost.”

Shocking.

“She didn’t send me again until it was an emergency. And she gave me a landmark.”

Alex glanced left to right. “I think you missed it.”

“No one knows it’s out here because they don’t need to look for it, and likewise, I don’t think it tries to be found. Come here.” She waved a hand, urging Alex to follow. She used her other hand to push aside a few branches, revealing a misplaced, red-brick pathway. It began from nowhere but weaved through parallel aisles of large T-shaped, gray flowers. The flowers stood in rows, as still as gravestones but as loud as the dead.

The flower field rose into a hill, creating the illusion that it marched straight up to the sky. At the edge of the hill was a square entryway made of stone. It interrupted the beauty of gray crosses and stared at them with its sharp, black eye.

“How do you feel?” Skye asked.

“What?”

“Tell me what you feel when you look at them.”

“The flowers?” Bemused, Alex turned back to the field. At first, her cynicism hindered her senses, but she focused on the symmetrical rows. The clouds lingered low, thought-bubbles of puffy white.

She sensed so many different things at one time, yanking her mind in so many directions. She felt the comfortable fatigue after finishing a task. She felt the gratification of winning first place. She felt the humility of accepting defeat gracefully without regret. She felt the dissatisfaction of a bittersweet ending and the promise of meeting someone new. She felt the heartbreak of losing someone special.

Skye watched her, nodding.

“I feel …” Alex felt the emotions swirl around her, pulling her back and forth at her elbows, “… full.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“What is this place?”

“I tried to ask Duvall about it once, but she told me that some things don’t need to be discussed. When I’m walking through the woods, I wait until that feeling hits, and then I follow it. The tree we need is just past here.”

Alex didn’t want to leave. These sensations were fulfilling. “We don’t have go yet, do we? What’s in the cave?”

“No clue.”

The gray flowers shone like light behind stained glass, glinting despite the overcast of redwood shadows. She crouched down next to them.

“Have you ever picked one?”

“No way. I don’t know what they are!”

Alex gazed longingly at the T-shaped blooms, considering the risk.

“Come on,” Skye said. “The tree is back here.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?”

Skye grinned, exposing a line of perfect teeth. “Oh! I thought you wanted to head back and spend some time stacking your books and practicing your handwriting.”

“Shut up.”

Skye held up the sack. “Let’s go. It might take a little while to peel this much bark.”

Alex bid goodbye to the field and trudged slowly after Skye. “Is this going to take forever?”

“Stop complaining,” Skye reprimanded, lifting her knees high to step through the plants. “You won’t even remember all the hard labor.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Alex swatted at tree branches.

“We’re peeling the bark from a tree that makes the mind forget. Trust me, you won’t remember.”

Alex couldn’t decide if that made the task better or worse. She knew Thymoserum tricked people into forgetting what they saw. It was how the spirited removed things they needed from the bodied world.

“We’re almost at Eidolon’s gate.”

Alex could sense the border before they reached it. It pushed against her like walking into the wind, cautioning her. Finally, she saw the withered grandmother of a tree wilting near the perimeter, stretching its knobby branches in through the gate. Even its thin, frail leaves wrinkled with age.

Alex ran her hand along the bark, which broke away easily like brittle bones. She pitied the tree. It begged to come inside, reaching out to them. “Will it hurt the tree if we take too much of its bark?”

Skye sat on a root, like a child on a grandparent’s knee. “I think she likes being needed. She wouldn’t stretch through the gate otherwise. The rest of them aren’t so willing.”

“The rest?”

“These trees are all around the perimeter. I think they were planted there so if people happen to get too close, they won’t remember.”

“You always take the bark from this tree?”

“Her branches are the only ones I can reach without going outside the boundary.”

The bars of the gate intertwined and zigzagged in a spider web pattern. Alex closed her fingers around a section of it, testing the durability. “Out of curiosity, do you know how to get through?”

Skye’s voice dropped. “Why?”

“So we can take bark from some of the other branches. That way, this side won’t be bare.”

“Yeah, I know how.”

“After I died, Ellington said he had to pull me through it or I couldn’t do it.”

“That’s only because your brain was limited at the time. You wouldn’t have believed you could cross through those bars even if he told you.”

Alex ran her fingers along the tough, cold gate. The crooked “bars” extended high above them and felt as strong as steel.

“Any spirit can get through if they know how,” Skye explained. “The gate has energy, like anything else, but you can feel the strength of it, right?”

“Is that to keep newburies from knowing how to go through it?”

Skye stuck her hand through the gate. “If that’s the case, they failed. It’s really easy to go in and out.”

“Is it safe?”

“In my opinion, we’re more at risk waltzing through that fishbowl of tourism in Broderick Square.”

“Good call. You know,” Alex cocked her head, “you kind of remind me of Jonas sometimes.”

Skye scrunched her nose.

“It’s a compliment,” Alex murmured, breathing deeply as a breeze rustled the leaves.

Skye touched her hand to the tree and her face clouded.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just a little tired.”

“Who?”

“The tree.”

“How do you
know
that?”

Skye shrugged, and Alex jutted her chin forward to show that she wanted a legitimate answer.

“I know how to listen. Stop looking at me like I’m insane.” Skye stepped backward through the gate, watching Alex the entire time. She appeared on the other side, grinning like a goof.

If she wanted to change the subject, she’d succeeded. Alex’s jaw dropped down into the moss below. “How did you do that?”