Speed of Light (4 page)

I shook my head. “I don’t want to tell random people.”
Besides, who would believe us?

“I don’t either.” Juliet spoke up; her voice wavered until Mini jumped into her lap and rubbed on her face. Mini, the enormous cat who’d shown up at Dunklebarger, came and went as she pleased, but she soothed Juliet. She scratched me.

Rumi grabbed a pen and started writing topics, people’s names. He’d introduced us to many of our current group. Joi owned the cottage we rented and Helios Tea Room in Carmel. She’d adopted two of Juliet’s littlies from DG—Bodie and Sema—and taken them north to Wolf Lake for the summer. They needed to be kids. I knew it was hard on Juliet not having them around. She defined herself by shielding them.
Without the kids, she may feel useless
.

“We don’t have to expand too far. Think about it. Of each of us who already know the truth, we have mavens. Tony understands many of the religions in the world. Nelli’s fluent in law, psychology, and the social programs exploited by the Nocti. Joi knows the gossip and happenings of Carmel long before they’re public. I know art and cultural customs.”

Nelli worked for the state’s attorney general investigating abuses in the child services division. She’d taken it upon herself to uncover the truth of Dunklebarger and find all the missing kids, dead and alive, who had gone
through there over the years. She was also the niece of Gus, Rumi’s best friend and retired history professor from Butler.

Rumi continued. “Faye knows music. She plays and teaches many instruments. Gus knows Indiana and world history from teaching it for years at the university. Each of us has a talent, an expertise that will benefit the cause if we utilize ourselves fully.” He finished listing the people he’d introduced us to months ago.

“And there’s your Auntie’s journal, which Tens began transcribing and sharing with us. There are generations of experts.”

I swiveled my head toward Tens.

He kissed my cheek.

“That’s what we mean by education. The curiosity of this life takes on a more relevant importance to us, to your safety, your duty. We wouldn’t be doing our best as elders if we didn’t suggest this. You don’t have to study the usual things, only the parts of knowledge that may lend you an advantage.” Tony appealed to me, then turned to Juliet and asked, “Why didn’t any child at DG go to regular school?”

“To keep us away from people.” She shrugged, her eyes cast down.

He nodded. “But maybe more importantly to control the flow of information?”

“Don’t you know that old ditty that ‘information equals power’?” Rumi asked me.

“We want to empower you.” Tony leaned in.

“By making us do homework?” I asked.

“In part. Maybe. But we need you to buy in. You have to believe in knowledge as power, too, or us digging up resources is a waste of time.”

“There will come a time when you’ll know as much as we do.”

“Sooner rather than later?” Tens asked Rumi with a wicked grin.

“Ah now, boy, careful there, don’t be full of hubris!” Rumi chortled.

“But until then, we’ve set up a list of texts and resources. Then we’ll come together and discuss our findings and what questions they lead us to—which will carry us on in the quest and so on.”

Juliet raised her head from Mini’s neck. “What if the Nocti start making trouble?”

“What about our duty to help souls?” I added.

“That won’t get in the way. We’re not trying to tie you to a chair and give you busy work. This will ebb and flow around the rest.”

I squinted at the scroll. “I am so tired of not knowing what’s next. Maybe even more tired of not knowing what I don’t know.” My brain twisted. “I’m in. If there aren’t pop quizzes or tests.” My mind wandered back to December and that final day of my old life, of real school with silly subjects and useless rules.
Who knew so much would change so fast?

“The tests will be seeing if anything is applicable to
our fight, yes? Do we learn anything that uncovers Nocti? Gives us an advantage? Answers the questions about Roshana and the missing? Leads us to more Fenestra?”

“I’m in. I have pieces of my history, but not enough,” Tens answered. “I’d love to meet another Protector.”

We turned to Juliet, who’d grown quieter and more still the longer we’d talked.

“So?” I asked.

“I can’t.” Her eyes wide and filled with fear, Juliet practically vibrated where she sat.

N
ow what?

“Why not? What’s wrong?” I asked.

Agitated, she seemed to shrivel. “I can’t … um … read.”

“But you said Kirian taught you.” Confused, I glanced at Tony. No way would he put her on the spot and embarrass her. Not intentionally.
He doesn’t know. What else don’t we know about Juliet?

Tony prodded gently, “Juliet?” He reached out but she flinched away.

She inhaled and lifted her head. “He did. Basic stuff like labels, food, medicines for the littlies, but not books.
Not more than a word or two at a time. The words jumble and flip.”

Tony and Rumi shared a look.

“What?” she demanded.

“Yeah, what?” I added at their hesitation.

Tony answered, “The words move around? You can’t follow a line of text?”

Juliet shrugged.

“Maybe dyslexia. I wondered when you didn’t touch the cookbooks I bought. And when you flipped through your mother’s book of sonnets but didn’t stay on a page long enough to read it all. We can conquer this,” Tony said.

“We’ll help you.” No wonder she still seemed isolated and lonely. Roshana wrote in the margins of a book of sonnets she left with Tony to give to Juliet.
I wish I’d known sooner. I could have read Roshana’s entries to her
.

Rumi patted her head. “That only makes weeting, knowing, all the more important.”

Tony brushed his hand over hers. “There are lots of tricks we can try. But don’t you see, kiddo? You get proficient at reading, with whatever tools it takes, and you grab back a piece of you that they took away. Claim your right to read anything and everything. Don’t stay in the dark.”

She sat straighter, uncomfortable with our scrutiny. I tried to take the focus of the conversation back. “I know I’m always bitching about not knowing what’s coming. You really think studying will help?”

“Can it truly hurt, lass?” Rumi answered.

“Point goes to the old folks.” Comically, Tens made an imaginary notation on the wall and broke the tension.

Rumi’s guffaws filled the room, while Tony’s laughter rocked his shoulders and whistled out his nose. Tens’s face lit beautifully with his smile and warmed my heart. Juliet’s giggles surprised her expression every time. My laughter hurt my cheeks and crinkled my eyes until they teared.

“Where do we start?” I asked after catching a breath.

“Since you’re the only ones who’ve read the entire thing”—Tony passed out packets—“we start with Auntie’s journal, Meridian’s ancestors, and branch out from there. Anything new that jumps out at us we write up on this scroll; then we go in that direction.”

Like a magician unveiling a rabbit, Rumi yanked a crisp white sheet off stacks of books piled against the wall. Minerva leapt to the top of them and cleaned her paws.

“Where did you get all of those?” I asked. So many new, old, and ancient spines jumbled together that it was like the contents of a library had been robbed and dumped here.
That is a lot of reading. What in the world did I agree to?

“Retro, preread, bookstores in town.”

I gaped at the sheer volume. “You expect us to read this much in a week?”

“Nah, I figure it’ll take a month or two.” He smiled, the beads on his braids clicking like crickets.

I was fairly certain there were more words there than
I’d read in my lifetime.
A month? He has to be kidding. A decade, maybe
.

We studied printouts of Auntie’s journal—only fifty pages but the font and size made it a hell of a lot easier to read than the original, which was fading, spidery ink on onionskin parchment. I let Auntie’s words wash over me.

“We need to add all the writers in Auntie’s journal to our scroll.” There were generations of Fenestra dating back two centuries. Cassie Ailey, Lucinda Myer, Jocelyn Wynn, Luca Lenci, Melynda Laine, and so many more.

Rumi grabbed a pail of markers and handed it to me. “Please.”

Tens and I began to make notes based on what we’d both read. “Do you know how you’re related to these women?”

“We’re going to have to sort it out.” My mother never talked about her family, and Auntie focused on keeping me alive, not on genealogy.

When Juliet moved to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner, Tens called out to her, “Whose memories are we eating tonight?”

Juliet paused and nodded at an unseen audience. “Enid.” She offered us Enid’s favorites of roast bone marrow on toast, deviled eggs, beef and barley soup, broccoli strudel, Hoppin’ John, creamed lemon chicken, and fresh sweet peas. Rumi’s rustic wood table seemed to bow under the weight of its offerings.

Enid and her sister Glee were the last elderly patients at DG. Glee was killed by the headmistress, and Enid struggled to recover in the months following. Her death two weeks ago spawned Joi’s decision to take the kids north and give them a summer vacation in a new place.

All of Juliet’s meals felt more like life menus to me—as if each course of a person’s life contained a certain flavor combination. What might have tasted like a hodgepodge of oddities blended seamlessly on our plates and in our stomachs.

Juliet and Tony laid platters of food on the table. The wisps of fragrance tickled my taste buds. I remembered a
time when food hurt in my body and nausea was my closest companion.
So much change in so short a time
.

Tens mounded his plate and dug in as if it were his last meal for the season. His metabolism burned at nuclear levels; in an hour he’d eat another plateful.

“Tens’s trenching with the right spirit. I’m eximiously esurient tonight myself!” Rumi spread a huge pat of butter on his bread and took a bite. Melting butter dripped down his chin. “Fantastical meal, Juliet me lassy!”

“Sorry I’m late.” Nelli arrived carrying a cardboard box of files. Ever since she’d taken it upon herself to clear DG’s storm cellar of its boxes of patient and kid files, I didn’t think I’d seen her without some of it in her arms. Most files were moldy and water damaged and incomplete, with records dating back to the sixties. Her apartment became the sorting warehouse.

As a social worker and investigator for the state attorney general’s office, Nelli seemed to feel a profound responsibility, as if she herself had failed these kids. We had told her the whole story soon after the destruction of DG. Partly because we knew she’d immediately begin searching for the missing kids and partly to enlist her help making sure the Nocti weren’t doing this anywhere else in the state. It made sense to all of us to trust her. I can’t say it was the easiest conversation, but it wasn’t the hardest either.

“Rumi, may I speak with you?” Nelli disappeared back into the studio space. They returned a few minutes later looking ashen.

Rumi’s expression heartbroken, he and Nelli whispered back and forth.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Rumi’s brow furrowed and he didn’t answer, so I turned to Nelli.
What’s going on? Do they know something about Juliet’s parents? The other missing children? The Nocti?
“No secrets, right? That’s how this works.” I sat down in a chair next to her. Tens pressed my shoulder. I knew he wanted me to back off, and politeness begged me to let it go.

“Share,” I demanded.

Dinner over, Tony and Juliet began clearing up.

Tears brimmed along both Rumi’s and Nelli’s eyelids. I handed Nelli a box of tissues but pressed again, “What’s going on? Is it Roshana?”

Nelli cleared her throat. “I request permission to inform Faye and Gus of your abilities.” She sniffled as if holding back more than tears. “About your angelness.”

I heard Tony and Juliet stop clanking around in the kitchen and join us.

Angelness? That’s a new one
. I nodded, keeping my face blank but open.
But that shouldn’t make them look like their dog had been kicked
. “Okay, why?”

They seemed to freeze and shrink. Tens leaned in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and propping his chin against the top of my head. I motioned Tony and Juliet out of the kitchen and toward us.

“I’m sorry. I should have waited. You weren’t even finished eating.” Nelli’s tears spilled over.

“It’s okay—it’ll reheat.” Juliet tried to make it okay for Nelli. “Besides, I need to cook it, not eat it!” She gave Nelli a small smile. Once Juliet made a recipe, she could move on. Tony took many of her creations to the homeless shelter.

Tony sat down on the couch and gathered Nelli toward him in comfort. Juliet paused, poised to flee on the edge of the circle.

Nelli tried to pull herself together enough to get the words out but stumbled over the sounds, sobbing. Her freckles bled together in red splotches and her shoulders hunched low as if she were waiting to be kicked.

Rumi drenched his handkerchief, then used his sleeve. “Faye is sick. She has the malison malebolge, cursed hell pit, of cancer.” He looked as though he might vomit.

Nelli heaved a breath and added, “It’s terminal. It’s everywhere inside her.”