The Boy Who Knew Everything (20 page)

The air was soaked with perfume and there wasn't a place that Conrad could set his eyes that wasn't its own prayer of beauty. A vine of purple flowers danced through graceful stone archways and the waterfall had lights within that made it shimmer.

“Isn't it something?” Piper gushed. “And not one person has asked me to solve a math problem!”

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days. By the time we got here you were more dead than alive, but Irgo, he's the healer, has been doing all he can. 'Course he had no idea how to heal a gunshot wound and he's not as good as Jasper, but he did his best. Isn't that waterfall something? I think it's even more grand than J. said it would be.” Piper pulled her gaze from the beauty to see Conrad's reaction and was disappointed to see he was distant and unengaged. “What?”

“When I was with my father he was different. He changed.” Conrad was engrossed by the memory of him. “And he talked about a Dark One.”

Piper wasn't interested in hearing about Harrington. “You've gotta rest.”

“I really need to find my father and talk to him.”

“Conrad.” Piper swallowed hard, bracing herself. “Maybe your dad didn't make it.”

“Why would you say that?”

“He was shot through the heart.” Piper had seen Harrington hit when she was flying back to the roof. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Then you saw,” Conrad retorted passionately, “that my father saved me. You saw that if it wasn't for him … I would be dead right now.”

“He never moved after he was shot. I never once saw him move when we were chasing him.” Piper could feel herself getting heated. “There's no way he's alive.”

Anger hung heavily in the pause that followed her words.

“All I'm saying,” Piper continued gently, reining herself in and preventing this from turning into a fight, “is that he was never much of a father to you. Sure, maybe he was nice for a few minutes, but it might not be such a bad thing if he wasn't part of your life anymore. It might be … easier. Better. For you.”

“I don't believe that, either,” Conrad replied bitterly. “My father is alive and I will find him. And if you don't want to help or join me then you can just fly away and I'll do it myself.”

Shocked by the anger and hurt in his voice, Piper became aware of the painful dark circles that lined Conrad's eyes and the sadness that was etched into his forehead and tugging at his mouth.

“We're a team, Conrad. You know that. We stay together, we work together, I have your back.”

A bottomless sigh escaped Conrad's lips in a measured exhalation, releasing his anger. “Good. I want to start searching for him right away.”

By this point Conrad's shoulder was throbbing wildly and he was dizzy. He slumped over without warning and Piper eased him to the bed.

“You're as weak as a newborn foal.”

Conrad didn't resist Piper's help. When she had him settled he curled himself into a ball and closed his eyes. For the next twenty-four hours straight he slept without moving as Piper watched over him.

 

CHAPTER

27

At dawn the sound of singing drew Conrad from his bed. He found Piper sitting on the balcony with her knees curled up to her chest looking down to the plateau. Conrad followed her gaze to where an old man was standing at the very edge of the precipice. He had a shock of white hair and his arms were raised upward as he sang.

Sitting himself down next to Piper, Conrad arranged his shoulder into a comfortable position and listened.

“His name is Aldo,” Piper said, breaking the quiet between them. “He is called the singer of Xanthia. Every morning at dawn he sings to Mother Mountain.”

“Mother Mountain?”

“Mother Mountain is the spirit inside the mountain. AnnA told me all about it. Thousands of years ago the Chosen Ones had to wander below with the Outsiders. At long last the Guardian of the Chosen Ones led them to this hidden valley and the singer woke the spirit inside the mountain with her song. She asked the spirit if the Chosen Ones could live here and Mother Mountain wrapped her rock arms around them and never let them go.”

“They don't seriously believe that?”

“AnnA told me that Mother Mountain let her rocks tumble away to create all of these rooms and meeting places.” Piper shrugged. “She gives the Chosen Ones everything they need. She even made the waterfall on the plateau for them.”

“Who's AnnA?”

“She's our guide. She's gonna show us around and teach us about Xanthia.”

“Asanti,” Aldo sang. “A-SAN-TI.” Aldo stretched the sounds of the word out, his voice rising and reverberating with the assistance of the perfect acoustics.

“Asanti,” Piper repeated. The word melted on her tongue. “They use that word a lot. AnnA told me it means great blessing. Gratitude. Joy. They use the word to honor the day and the life in all things. Asanti.”

“A-strange.”

Piper fixed Conrad with a look.

“I'm just pointing out that the word ‘Asanti' is strange. But it doesn't matter because all I want to do is find my father and get out of here. We've got to get back to the others.”

“Then I'll call AnnA,” Piper said, getting to her feet.

By the time Conrad was dressed in a robe that he deemed equally strange, they were joined by AnnA.

“Asanti,” AnnA greeted Conrad nervously, looking more at his feet than his face. She looked to be about eleven years old, and had trusting eyes and skin so clear it was like a blank sheet of paper waiting for someone to write on it. Her long auburn hair curled about her shoulders and she fiddled with it so that she would have something to do with her hands. Conrad had the distinct impression that AnnA would melt into the shadows if she could.

“We are glad that you are well,” AnnA said quietly. “Equilla wishes to welcome you in person. She is the leader of our council of elders.”

“I'd like to find my father first,” Conrad said bluntly. “President Harrington.”

AnnA looked to Piper, folding her chin down. “I have told Piper that we do not know this man. There is not one among us by that name.”

Conrad exchanged a loaded glance with Piper, quietly deciding to bide his time and not press the issue with AnnA, who seemed genuinely confused by the matter. “We'd be happy to meet Equilla.”

“Please follow me.” AnnA bowed, guiding them from their chamber.

With AnnA in the lead, Piper and Conrad walked to the outdoor passage that was carved along the entire second level. Outside, the activity of a normal day was under way and Conrad noticed that the Xanthian people were calmly attending to their daily tasks in unhurried grace; no one was rushing, no one was angry. Dotted about the side of the mountain, wrapped in their colorful robes, they looked like strange, beautiful flowers.

A woman was spinning a web into a sculpture with delicate spidery movements, using a silk-type substance that she was shooting out of her fingertips. Not far from her two men worked together on a cloud that they had tussled to a rock with a silver rope. The cloud was pulling against the rope but the men were carefully shaping it before releasing it back up to the sky. An old woman was talking to a gathering of purple ducks that were respectfully quacking at her and wagging their tail feathers.

Curious eyes followed Piper and Conrad wherever they went, but no one approached them or addressed them directly, and all kept a careful distance. Except, of course, AnnA, who was technically with them but at the same time maintained a calculated buffer space, as though she might catch something from them, or they might suddenly strike her.

AnnA led them down the main staircase and past the waterfall. “Over there is the garden,” AnnA said, pointing to a small plateau tucked off to the side.

Conrad saw a woman walking through the garden. As she moved, the plants leaned toward her as though yearning for her attention. He was surprised to notice that he could not identify any of the trees or plants. One of the trees was a bright orange color with black fruit the size of basketballs hanging from its branches. Next to the tree was a rippling blue bush with leaves that subtly changed color.

As they passed the waterfall's pool, Conrad's attention was caught by small shiny things moving at the bottom of it. Their movement was so peculiar that Conrad leaned over the edge to get a closer look. Tiny fish-shaped coins, which had both fins and legs, darted about in the water, often twirling and doing something that appeared like a jig.

“Those are called Jangles,” AnnA explained helpfully, noting Conrad's interest. “They are lucky, if you can catch them. They are very fast, though.”

“They look more coin than fish.”

“Yes. They say that the Jangles were once coins that were thrown into fountains and wished upon. But the fish in the fountains swallowed the wishing coins, and when those fish had babies they came out looking more coin than fish.”

“I've never seen them before.” Nor had Conrad ever read anything about them.

AnnA was not surprised. “The Guardian brought them here because he said they would die off if we didn't protect them; the Outsiders trapped and killed them. Almost everything here has not survived in the world below because the Guardian says the Outsiders are killers.”

Conrad sharply turned to AnnA, who seemed wholly innocent of the inflammatory nature of her last statement. Determined to carry out her task, she resumed leading them across the plateau.

“And when will I meet this Guardian?” Conrad pressed.

“The Guardian is often busy,” AnnA said vaguely. “This is called the Celebration Center. At the age of four or five a child is called to join.”

AnnA nodded to the side of the plateau where an arched roof was held up by rows of pillars. A set of steps led up to it and Piper was immediately intrigued. “Are we allowed to see inside?”

“Of course. But Equilla is waiting for us and we must not linger.” AnnA guided her two guests up the steps and through the columns.

Inside the Celebration Center, Conrad saw different platform levels with views of the valley from every perspective. He counted eighteen kids at work, focusing with steady concentration on their own individual tasks. One girl with golden hair had no less than thirty bees and other insects flying around her. A thin, awkward boy was creating miniature wind worms in his hands next to where a very small girl was coaxing carrot seeds to grow into full-size carrots.

“I wish I'd had this place to teach me to fly!” Piper remarked with longing.

Conrad silently admitted to himself that it was an impressive setup.

“Each morning the young ones gather here to explore and celebrate their abilities.”

“You mean like school?”

“School?” repeated AnnA.

“Yes,” Conrad said. “A place of learning where children are taught math, history, and to read and write.”

“No, no, it is not like school.” AnnA shook her head, disturbed by the notion of such a place. “No, we do not wish to learn new things. The goal is to merely uncover that which is already inside of us and celebrate it into a blossoming.”

“Hmm.” Conrad watched the children's efforts.

AnnA led him past a boy who was causing the air around him to turn from pink to blue to yellow, around a fountain that was somehow suspended in the middle of the air with no seeming intake or outlet, to a circular space that hovered several feet above the ground. Five children played on top of it.

AnnA stopped before they actually approached so that Conrad could watch. All the children appeared to be between the ages of four and six, and one of them, a curly-haired boy, had a blindfold over his eyes. He was reaching out to catch the other children, who were giggling wildly and darting away from him.

“Oh, I know this game.” Piper smiled. “We play it back at home. It's called blindman's bluff.”

AnnA cocked her head. “You have a game like this?”

“Sure. If you're ‘it' you've gotta catch someone and guess who it is.”

The little boy darted forward and grabbed hold of a little girl. Suddenly the two children merged into one, creating a new creature comprised of both their parts.

Piper and Conrad gasped.

“Wait,” AnnA warned.

After about ten seconds the merged entity tore apart and the two children returned to their normal shapes. A moment later they laughed uproariously.

“This game is called Habatet,” AnnA explained quickly, to quell the shock on both Conrad's and Piper's faces. “The children become one so that they can feel what it is like to be someone else. It awakens their natural empathy and acceptance of differences.”

“Oh,” Piper said, finding that she could breathe again. “Yeah, that's not so much like blindman's bluff.”

Suddenly, a fat, glossy-brown squirrel jumped up on a railing next to where they stood.

“Equilla wishes to welcome the Outsiders now,” the squirrel chucked. His voice was strangely feminine and throaty. He then bobbed up and down until AnnA fed him a nut that she pulled discreetly from a pocket of her robe. The squirrel snatched the nut up and ate it greedily.

Conrad watched the squirrel with fascination.

“This is Nuttle,” AnnA explained. “The squirrels deliver messages for us. It is very … convenient. They keep us all connected.”

“Like the internet.”

“But super cute.” Piper reached out her hand to pet him. “Hey, little fella.”

Suddenly the squirrel lunged forward, baring his teeth and making an alarmingly loud screeching noise. AnnA threw herself between the two, protecting Piper from the squirrel's wrath.

“Go, Nuttle.” Throwing out another nut, AnnA pointed firmly away from the Celebration Center. “Your message has been heard. Go!”

Nuttle glared at Piper before huffily scampering away.