The Fog of Forgetting (22 page)

“No longer could strangers journey to our shores as they once had. And the few who did,” she nodded to the children, “had no choice in their fate. Ayda became a world unto itself, a world at war, dreaming of another age, and those who pierced the fog to stray upon her shores were destined to remain—including Dankar. For you must understand: The fog is intended to keep him
in
as much as it keeps the rest of the world out.” Rysta paused to let this sink in.

“Protected by our stones, my siblings and I gathered what remained of our people to the four corners of Ayda and defended our lands. In this way, by division, my parents hoped to keep the full power of the daylights from falling into Dankar's hands.”

“So what happened to the Fifth Stone then?” asked Knox. “Did your father have to break it to make the other stones?”

Rysta looked deeply into her pool. “I do not believe that the Fifth Stone was destroyed in the making of the four, but it—and my father—were never seen on Ayda again.”

“What happened to your mother?” whispered Evelyn.

Rysta's voice wavered. “My mother's daylights could not be separated from the Fifth Stone. They lingered for a while, and then, one day, she, too, was gone.” She gazed meaningfully at Evelyn.

“So you see, I know much of your despair—for it is also mine. For over five hundred of your years I have lived apart from those I love, hoping beyond reason for some sign of the Fifth Stone and reunion with what is left of my family. I admit, I am weary of the wait—though it is now ours to share.” She shifted Teddy off her lap, whispered something in his ear, and rose to leave.

“You should know one last thing,” she said, hesitating at the perimeter of the enclosure. “When the Watchers broke their vow, a long age of suffering was visited upon the Earth by their offspring—but it will not be an eternity. The Fifth Stone was created as a promise to the world. As long as it stays out of the hands of those who would do evil with it, Ayda and the daylights will outlast whatever troubles beset an age. We may suffer, but we will never perish completely.”

“But—” cried Knox, “what if it's already in the wrong hands?”

“The Fifth Stone is a formidable power; its misuse or destruction would leave a vacuum no living creature could ignore.”

“What does
that
mean?” asked Chase. “Does the world implode or something?”

“Not the world, no. Something—else,” Rysta answered, tapping the spot above her heart with her open hand.

M
orning was in full flush when Evelyn and the boys emerged back through the wall of water and rowed across the lagoon to their chambers. No one spoke during the voyage, lost as they were in the interweaving strands of Rysta's story. Finally alone, they luxuriated in the expanse of the gathering room. A breeze blew in through the apertures in the ledge, and every now and then they heard the trill of a bird. No one felt the slightest bit sleepy, though they had been awake through the night. Knox paced the room, rehashing what Rysta had told them.

“What did she say to you, anyway, Tedders?”

Teddy smiled. “She told me where I can see the turtles.”

Chase patted Teddy on the back, smiling at Teddy's new ability to say S. “She does seem to like you, Ted.”

“That's 'cause I'm special!”

Knox wrapped his arms around his front and turned his back to Teddy, pretending he was locked in a passionate embrace. “Oohh, I am so
special
,” he cooed.

Teddy's face flushed. He was about to take a flying leap onto Knox's back, fists flying, when Evelyn intervened.

“Stop it, Knox. Rothermel said as much to you, so I don't know why you're teasing Teddy—all that stuff about you being a true Melorian or whatever. He didn't say anything like that to Chase or me.”

Chase walked over to the window and looked out at the river. “Do you think it's true? I mean, all this stuff about the daylights, and how every living thing has all four kinds, but is guided by one?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Why does it matter? It doesn't get us any closer to finding Frankie.”

“You weren't listening closely enough, Ev.”

Evelyn shot Chase a look that said she would be highly surprised if she missed something he didn't.

“Rysta told us those stories to warn us
against
going after Frankie! Her own brother died fighting Dankar, and he was a Keeper. Her father sacrificed himself to keep the Fifth Stone away from Dankar. She's trying to get us to understand how bad he really is.”

Evelyn gave no reply. The only sound that could be heard in the room was the gentle lap of water against rock from outside the window. It was strangely reminiscent of the sound she had first heard when she woke up that day on the boat, engulfed in fog. As she looked around at her comfortable surroundings, it occurred to her that they had come a very far distance—or possibly nowhere at all.

“It makes no sense,” she said finally. “If he's so powerful, why does he need Frankie?”

Knox rapped his knuckles on the table absentmindedly.

“Rothermel already told us why Dankar took Frankie, and Rysta's story just proves it.”

Chase rolled his eyes. Evelyn stared.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, look at what Dankar did—he killed Ranu to get the stone of Exor, and he's been in a stalemate ever since.” Knox shot to his feet and began pacing again, his voice rising, warming to his subject. “We know, so he must know, that he can't beat the other Keepers in a pure game of power—it's always a standoff. Or worse. Three against one. So what does he do?
He changes the odds
. He keeps the other three off balance by taking advantage of their weakness—the fact that they
care
: for Ayda, for each other. From what Rothermel and Rysta told us, Dankar knows Keepers actually have a soft spot for humans, and for human children in particular.” Knox tossed his head at Teddy, as if to prove his point was self-evident.

“Dankar is a patient guy—Rysta told us that. We aren't the only outliers to wash up here. He didn't get Seaborne, but he knew from that experience that the fog wasn't totally impenetrable. All he had to do was wait and watch for another opportunity. And time is, like, nothing here. Fast-forward two hundred years and you get us.
Five
of us—pay dirt. He knows we're here, but he decides to let us stay in Melor for a while, let the Melorians get attached to us and us to them, and then—
WHAM!
He attacks! If he gets us, instant bargaining power! It's like Rothermel said: Dankar took Frankie so that one or all of the other Keepers would challenge him to an open fight—a fight he thinks he'll win.”

Chase and Evelyn exchanged looks, surprised by Knox's newfound powers of perception.

“I can see how some of that could be true, but Rothermel saw through his plan. He won't engage—and neither will his sisters,” argued Chase.

“They might not for just Frankie, but what if he had all of us? What if that was what the raid on the campsite was about?”

“If that's his game plan, how come he's not coming after us?”

Knox shrugged. “Because he can't. The stone of Metria is too powerful. That's why Rothermel sent us here.”

“It makes sense.” Chase nodded, catching Knox's drift.

Knox cocked his head dramatically, hitting his right ear as if he was trying to clear water out of the left.

“Did I actually hear that? Did I just hear Chase say I'm right?”

“But what does that mean for Frankie?” insisted Evelyn, ignoring Knox.

Chase spoke for him, his thoughts one step ahead of his words. “What does Dankar want more than anything? The Fifth Stone. He knows he's not going to get that—it's gone, possibly forever. So, he has to take everything down a notch and get one of the other stones of power, to even out the sides in order to wage any kind of war. Ratha lives far away in the mountains—too cold and far away for Exorians—and Rysta is too powerful for Dankar to fight head-on, so Dankar settles on Rothermel. He lays siege on the Melorians; their lands are easily reached to the south. He harasses them, sends raiding parties and
tehuantl
to attack them, steals their people, burns their villages—he gives Rothermel no rest. He's trying to wear him down, make him desperate.”

“Go on,” said Knox, his eyes wide.

“But Rothermel won't bite. Dankar is frustrated. And then, as you said, the odds change. We stumble into Melor through the fog. Spies report us and Dankar sees his chance.” Chase winced internally, regretting the spectacle they made of themselves that first day—the foghorn blasts and the fighting on the beach.

Evelyn chewed on her lip. “So you think Dankar wants all of us, not just Frankie?”

“I think he wants any outlier he can get—that's why he attacked the campsite. Only he didn't plan on Rothermel actually being with us.” Chase saw in his mind's eye the wall of flames licking the night sky, the hulking Exorians striding through the flames. He remembered the tawny hound that leapt through the wall of flame, clearing the way for the Melorians, and was willing to bet money that it had been Rothermel.

Evelyn yanked on one of her long curls in frustration, as if it would help spur her brain into action. Suddenly, her eyes lit up.

“Listen, Dankar took Frankie as bait, but he really wants a stone of power. We can't give him one, even if we could find one, but we could give him something else. You said he'd take any of us, right?” She looked pointedly at Chase and Knox. “Maybe he would make a trade?”

“Are you thinking we should offer Dankar a deal? One of us for your sister?” asked Chase, taken aback.

“I was
thinking
me, but I guess any of us would do,” she said.

Knox's knee bobbed up and down in excitement. His face shone as if some inner light had just been kindled. “It's a great idea, Evelyn! We're older and more prepared. We could get behind enemy lines and help the Melorians, spy for them or something.”

“Like baseball cards,” said Teddy. “Trade Frankie for Knox!”

“NO!” Chase shouted, agitated. “This is the craziest idea I ever heard! We are not going to swap you or me or Evelyn for Frankie. It does nothing to improve the situation. It's idiotic. We don't even know—” He broke off.

“Know
what
, Chase?” Evelyn squared off with him. “Whether or not my sister is alive? Is that what you were going to say?” She threw him a disgusted look and crossed over to an aperture that faced the river. The water moved silkily beneath her, the morning sun lighting up the shallow ripples on its surface. Suddenly, she smacked her forehead and her eyes sharpened.

“Wait, I have a better idea!” she cried, turning toward them again.

“What?” asked Knox, all ears.

“I don't want to tell you now, I just want you to trust me; okay?”

“Not if it means you doing something stupid,” said Chase.

“Like going out on your boat?” snapped Evelyn, her eyes sweeping the room. “This is all your fault, and now you won't do anything to help me fix it! It's well and good for you; you are all sitting right here! I wish Frankie and I had never met you that day on the beach. We were doing just fine without you.”

Chase was momentarily stunned speechless, then he started shouting. “I can't believe this! You think this is
my
fault? I'm the one who told you not to go out on the boat in the first place! You sided with Knox. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself—and
him
.” Chase pointed a finger at Knox.

“I knew it! I knew you blamed me!” yelled Knox. “All this time you've been bottling it up, just waiting to throw it in my face.” He took a step toward Chase.

“Don't fight!” screeched Teddy, bolting between them. He grabbed Knox around the waist, pinning his brother's arms to his sides. “It's Dankar's fault! He took Frankie.”

Chase flung himself listlessly onto a cushion, ignoring Knox. Teddy was right. There was no point in fighting, no point in any of this, really. Their future had already been worked out for them. How come Knox and Evelyn couldn't see it? The five of them were just pieces in a gigantic game that the Keepers had been playing for centuries. It was suicide to go up against Dankar when even the Keepers wouldn't do it.

Evelyn huffed out of the chamber.

Knox ran after her.

“Whatever you're thinking, I'm in,” he said.

Chase, Knox, and Teddy were digging into dinner when Hesam entered the gathering room. Evelyn had not returned all day.

“Rysta has left to make preparations for your departure to the city,” Hesam announced. “Before she left, she told me that she had promised to show the young one where the sea turtles rest. They do not often come this far north up the river—only when they sense unsettled seas. Please, follow me.”

Outside the cavern, gold tinged the tops of the trees as the sun descended to the west. By themselves in a skiff following in Hesam's wake, the boys watched the deep purple shadows lengthen across the waters of the bay, disturbed only by the dip and pull of Chase's oar stroke. A flock of low-flying birds skimmed the surface ahead of them.

Teddy was at the bow, bare-chested, his skin tanned a deep brown, his blond hair grown past his shoulders. He looked strong and lean and barely recognizable as their baby brother.

Chase rowed with ease, and they crossed the bay quickly to a small sliver of sand, overgrown with tangled roots from the encroaching jungle. Hesam, already on shore, pointed to large mounds massed at the edge, half-in, half-out of the water. The turtles moved slowly, making it easy to walk between them and touch their mottled shells. Every now and then, one would lumber into the water and disappear.

“That one's as big as our skiff,” Knox whistled, pointing to a giant greenish-yellow mound. Hesam nodded appreciatively.

“He is very old. The sea turtles of Metria have lived long on Ayda. They carry much wisdom on their backs,” she said.

“Yeah, well now they're carrying Teddy, too.” Knox laughed, waving at Teddy, who sat astride a slightly smaller and more-delicate-looking shell.

“Get off of it, Ted!” he yelled, and just in time. Without warning, the whole troop of turtles began to move into the water.

“Maybe we scared them,” Chase puzzled, trying to figure out why they would all leave in a swarm.

“I don't think so,” Hesam murmured, then pointed. “Look.”

A huge, silent boat had entered the mouth of the bay, its square sail the color of the moon. Small individual lights flickered from the deck and the berths below. Though the boat moved at a steady clip under full sail, there was no sound of the rigging and no apparent breeze to fill the sail, nor did the boat leave even the most minor ripple in its wake. It looked like an illusion of a boat—yet it was real. The three boys waded into the bay to try and get a better look. There was no movement on board, but as the boat came about and headed straight for the mouth of the cavern, they spotted a shining figure at the bow.

Rysta
.

Hesam smiled. “Your transport to the city has arrived.”

When they got back to the cavern, Evelyn met them at the beach. She was in a frenzy.

“We're supposed to leave tomorrow at first light!” she panted. “We have to do something now, or we'll never get the chance.”