Twist of the Blade (10 page)

A taxi pulled up outside, and Wally went out to meet it. The passenger side window rolled down as he approached, and he stuck his head though the opening. “I’m Wally Knight,” he said. “Are you here for me?”

“Yes, sir,” said the driver.

Wally turned to Ariane. “Get in,” he said. “We can talk more at my house.”

He held the door open for Ariane, who climbed into the back seat and then slid over to make room for him. “Harrington Mews,” he told the driver.

As the taxi pulled away from the hospital, Wally glanced at Ariane. She had her head turned away from him, staring out the window. Her long black hair, tumbling loose around her shoulders, shone like ebony in the morning sun. As he watched, she reached up her right hand and absentmindedly brushed the hair back from her ear, exposing the graceful line of her neck. A faint herbal scent came from her, shampoo or soap, and Wally suddenly wanted, more than anything, to protect her, to make sure she didn’t get hurt. Very aware of the listening ears of the driver, though, all he said was, “We’ll find a way. Don’t worry.”

And Rex Major
, he thought,
can go hang.

CHAPTER FIVE

UP, UP AND AWAY

The cab turned into Harrington Mews, the cul-de-sac just off the Albert Street Bridge where Wally lived. “Wait,” Wally told the driver when they stopped. “I’ll get some money from the house.”

“No need,” said the driver. “All paid.”

Surprised, Wally joined Ariane on the sidewalk. “I guess Mrs. Carson took care of it with the hospital,” he told her as the cab drove away. “I’m beginning to think I misjudged her.” He snorted. “Of course, she’ll probably make sure Flish goes home in a stretch limo.”

Ariane hugged herself. “Can we talk inside?” she said. “I’m freezing.”

“Sorry.” Wally led her up the winding walk to the front door. Ariane had been there before, of course, but in the wake of their conversation about money he suddenly felt self-conscious about the size of his house: the largest on the cul-de-sac. Taking up two full lots that backed up against the Wascana Creek dike, it was practically a mansion compared to Aunt Phyllis’s. He fished his key out of his jeans pocket, unlocked the door and showed her in.

“I’m starving,” he said. He led the way into the kitchen and pulled open the big stainless steel door of the refrigerator. “Ah,” he said, spotting a plate covered with aluminum foil. “Just the thing.” He took it out, peeled back the foil, and held it out to Ariane. “Want some?”

Ariane took one whiff of the pungent odor rolling off the plate and stepped back with an almost comical look of disgust. “What is that? It smells like old gym socks!”

“What?” Wally looked down at the slab of blue-veined cheese he’d uncovered. “It’s just cheese. Really good stuff. Cave-ripened in France!”

“Urgh. No, thank you.”

Wally shook his head. “No accounting for taste.” He picked up a big piece of the cheese and popped it in his mouth, then put the plate on the counter and turned back to the refrigerator, pulling out bread, dill pickles, onions and summer sausage and two cans of Diet Coke. “Do you want a sandwich at least? I can leave off the cheese.”

“No, I’m fine,” Ariane said. “Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.” Wally set to work on his own sandwich. “So. France. How do we get there?”

“I don’t know,” Ariane said. She took one of the cans of Diet Coke and popped it open. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. I can’t use salt water, and even if I could, I don’t think my strength would last all the way across the Atlantic.”

Wally took a big bite of his sandwich and chewed while he thought. He swallowed. “What about the Arctic ice cap? Ice is fresh water.”

Ariane shook her head. “Wally, you’ve travelled with me, you know how it works. I travel through liquid water. Not solid. It would be like trying to walk through a brick wall.”

“Hmmm.” Wally opened his own can of pop and took a gulp. The can was cold and wet with condensation... condensation...

“Eureka!” he shouted, then hesitated. “Well, maybe.”

Ariane stared at him. “What?”

“Look.” Wally put the can down and ran his finger over the wet side. “Condensation. You can purify water by evaporating it then condensing it. So...” He raised his eyes and looked out through the kitchen window. Though the day had started sunny, clouds were beginning to drift in from the west, big, fluffy grey clouds that made Wally wonder if snow was on the way.

“So?” Ariane prompted.

“So clouds are made of fresh water.” He hesitated again, wondering if he was about to sound as if he’d gone crazy. “Have you tried...could you...travel through the clouds?”

~~~

Ariane stared at Wally, then grinned. “I never thought about it.” She felt a surge of excitement. “I don’t know. I...wait a second.”

She closed her eyes. A good night’s sleep had done wonders. She could once again draw on her own power without reaching for the frightening energy of the shard. All the water nearby sang to her, shrill and metallic in the pipes of the house, deep and slow in sluggish Wascana Creek to the south, loud but placid in Wascana Lake, east of the Albert Street Bridge. But she had never thought of listening for the song of the clouds. She did so now, focusing her magical awareness on the sky...and there it was. Faint, hard to distinguish from the much stronger songs of the lake and creek, but unmistakable, like the
ting!
of a triangle cutting through the blare of a brass band...or the smell of Wally’s blue cheese curling through a room full of roses.

She could hear it, but could she use it? With her magic she tugged at the airborne water.

Wally gasped. “Wow,” he said. She opened her eyes and followed his gaze out the window. Huge flakes of snow drifted lazily by as though someone had ripped open a feather pillow above the house.

She blinked.
I did that?
“Wow,” she agreed.

“If this whole saving-the-world thing doesn’t work out, you can always make a living as a rainmaker,” Wally said. The flurry was already petering out. “I’m sure
that
will come in useful sometime.” He turned back from the window. “Okay, so you can pull water down from the sky. But can you pull yourself up into the clouds? And then travel through them the same way you do through streams?” He laughed. “It sounds crazy, but I guess I’m asking you if you can fly, Supergirl.”

“
Please
don’t start calling me Supergirl.” She chewed on her lip thinking about Wally’s question. “I don’t know. What if I got myself up there, but then couldn’t hold it? If I rematerialized thousands of feet in the air...”

Wally winced. “Ouch.” He shook his head. “Maybe not such a great idea.”

“Maybe not,” Ariane said, but inside she was thinking,
It may be the only way....

She had to test it...but she didn’t want Wally with her when she did. He’d want her to take him with her, and she wasn’t sure she could do it by herself, much less with the dead weight of Wally trying to pull her back to Earth. It had been hard enough work pulling him through flowing water.
No
, she thought.
It’s too dangerous. Once I’ve tried it myself, felt what it’s like, then I’ll know if I can take him with me.
She looked uneasily at Wally, who was gulping Diet Coke, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
And what if I can’t?

She wouldn’t even have
thought
of trying the clouds if he hadn’t mentioned the possibility. The thought of going after the second shard alone terrified her. What else might she not think of?
I need his brains
, she thought, then had to laugh silently at herself: she sounded like a zombie.

All the same, if the only way to get to France proved to be through the clouds, and she couldn’t take Wally with her...then she might not have any choice. She hated the thought of having to tell him she was leaving him behind almost as much as she hated the thought of setting off without him. He’d understand – of course he would – but he’d be horribly disappointed.

I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. First, I’ve got to find out if this crazy idea of his will work.

Wally gobbled down the rest of his sandwich, slugged down more Coke and then wiped his face with the back of his hand. “That’s better! Hospital food...” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come last night,” Ariane said. “I could have brought you pizza.”

Wally sighed. “You could have brought me your aunt’s chocolate-chip cookies. That’s what I was
really
craving.”

Ariane laughed. “I don’t blame you. Who else dropped by?”

“Just the doctor, the nurses...and Mrs. Carson. Although she really came to see Flish. I was just an afterthought.” His voice was casual, but Ariane knew Wally well enough by now to know how much that hurt.

“Did your parents call?”

Wally busied himself with the dishwasher. “No,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Ariane said, wishing she hadn’t asked.

“Me too.” Wally closed the dishwasher and turned back to her. “Look,” he said, “if the cloud idea is out, I don’t see how we’re going to get to Europe without buying plane tickets. Are you sure Aunt Phyllis can’t help?”

Ariane shook her head. “We really don’t have much money, Wally. Aunt Phyllis is on a fixed income and she already draws on her savings just to make ends meet.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave oven. “And speaking of Aunt Phyllis, I’ve got to get home. She didn’t expect me to be gone this long. She asked me to invite you to dinner tonight. We can figure things out then.”

Wally brightened. “Chocolate-chip cookies?” he said.

Ariane laughed. “There are some in the freezer.”

“I’m in!” Wally said, then winced and touched the gauze pad covering his stitches.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Ariane said.

Wally waved the question away. “I’ll take painkillers just before dinner,” he said. “I’ll be feeling great! As long as you’re not planning to serve me alcohol or ask me to operate heavy machinery.”

Ariane laughed again. “I think I can promise you neither of those will be on the menu.”

A few minutes later she was on her way home, passing through the graffiti-scrawled tunnel beneath the Albert Street Bridge to the bike path that circled Wascana Lake. She walked along the lake’s north shore, empty except for a few joggers and some laggardly Canada geese that hadn’t yet gotten around to flying south. She should have turned north at the playground to get to College Avenue, the most direct route home, but instead she kept going until she reached the parking lot from which she had first seen the staircase descending into the lake. She climbed onto one of the giant stones that separated the parking lot from the lake and stared at the slate-grey water between her and Willow Island. The lake’s surface rippled where the Lady had appeared, but that was only because of the light but steady breeze sweeping across the lake beneath the overcast sky. Ice crusted the shore at her feet.
There’s so much you didn’t tell me
, Ariane said silently to the absent Lady.
This shard is in France. The next could be in the Himalayas or on Easter Island. How am I supposed to get to them? How am I supposed to finish this quest?

There was no answer, of course. The last vestiges of the Lady’s presence had been driven out of the world by Rex Major. Ariane was on her own.

Not quite
, she thought.
Not quite. I’ve got Wally. And Aunt Phyllis.

But for how long? Major had already threatened Wally to get to the shards. He hadn’t done anything since they’d retrieved the first shard...but that was no guarantee he wouldn’t try again in the future.

I may not always have Aunt Phyllis’s or Wally’s help
, Ariane thought.
I have to be prepared to finish this quest on my own.

The thought, though cold and sharp as shattered ice, brought with it a kind of clarity.

I have to try the clouds.
Ariane looked up at the grey curtain hanging over the city.
It may be the only way to get to France.
She glanced around. Nobody was in sight. And where better to test her power again than here, where it had first come to her?