Stargazer Page 3

  “There’s food on the other side,” said Matilda. Seeing I wasn’t sure, she added, “And everyone’s waiting for you.”

  It appeared that I wasn’t going to get anything more out of Matilda unless I followed her lead, so I gathered my courage and stepped into the bobbing little boat.

  Matilda began to row with her rail-thin arms, and I patted Ranger on the head. We were quickly away from the shore, and I gazed into water where only the soft wake of the oars disturbed the surface. Many fish the size of my hand swam under the boat where the water was clear and deep. It reminded me of something else—something giant and scary—that had glided under the Warwick Beacon not so long ago.

  “You’re on the second pillar, Alexa.” Matilda could tell I was surprised to hear she knew my name. “Your friend Yipes told us.”

  “He’s alive—you’ve talked to him?” I asked, hope rising in my voice.

  “I haven’t, but I’m told he’s doing fine.”

  I was so happy to hear this news, I wobbled the boat back and forth with excitement.

  “Where is he? When can I see him?”

  Matilda let go of one of the oars and it dangled lazily on the surface of the water. She pointed into the sky in the direction of two o’clock.

  “He’s on that pillar, which isn’t the easiest one to get to from here. Can you see that long, rising line between this pillar and that one?”

  I nodded, seeing what she had described.

  “That’s a bridge made of ropes and not much else.” Matilda wrinkled her nose as if it had tickled inside. “It takes practice to manage a rope bridge like that. And even more practice to swing on a rope from pillar to pillar. We’ll work on these things.”

  “Yipes could do those things!”

  If there was one thing Yipes would be very good at, it would be crossing over a rope bridge or swinging on a rope.

  “He can climb anything you put in front of him,” I said.

  “Maybe so,” Matilda replied. “But let’s talk about that after, all right?”

  “After what?”

  Matilda wouldn’t answer. She wrinkled her nose up and down again. It appeared to be a nervous habit, one that reminded me of Malcolm the rabbit back home.

  Why were they keeping Yipes from me? It bothered me, but I was so thrilled to know that he was with me—somewhere. It seemed best not to press the point just yet. And besides, there was another, more difficult question I needed to ask again.

  “What about Roland, the captain of the ship?” I asked. “Where is he?”

  Matilda was quiet. She was rowing again, watching the paddles hit the water so she wouldn’t have to look me in the eye.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?” I asked. “Roland is gone.”

  Matilda still didn’t answer, but she did glance at me then—as if her heart was broken just like mine was. Roland Warvold had indeed gone down with the Warwick Beacon. I had counted on him being by my side in this strange new world. Without him, I didn’t know who to trust or what I would find on each of the five pillars. It was a scary, lonely feeling.

  “It’s hard to let things go,” said Matilda.

  We were very nearly on the other side, and a large group of people had gathered near the shore where we were set to land. I couldn’t stop thinking about how they were all lost children from The Land of Elyon. Children no one wanted, children in danger, who had been smuggled to the five pillars by Roland. I had imagined them all at five or six or seven, even if it didn’t make sense. I knew many of them had been brought here long before I was born, but until that moment I had always imagined them as children, lost and afraid. It made me want to see Yipes more than ever.

  “Matilda?” I said. She looked across at me on the boat. “Why can’t I see my friend Yipes?”

  Matilda smiled faintly.

  “You can see him—I promise.” She turned to the water. “Just give it a little more time.”

  I wanted to object, but we were coming ashore and people had gathered, whispering quietly among themselves. There were three more dogs, happy to see Ranger visiting from the other side of the lake.

  I heard a bell ringing from somewhere in a hidden place within the line of trees.

  “Just made it!” said Matilda. “Time for something to eat.”

  As I stepped out of the boat, everyone moved back and parted. They didn’t speak to me, but many nodded and smiled weakly. There seemed to be some concern about me. There was an overarching sadness—probably at the loss of Roland. After I’d gone slowly past all the people, a path remained, leading into the trees.

  “That way,” said Matilda, looking up the path. “You must go to the door.”

  CHAPTER 4

  JONEZY

  The door was surrounded entirely by thick bushes so that it appeared to lead not into a house but into an endless wood. I shivered.

  “Can I take Ranger with me?” I asked.

  Matilda nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  All at once, I had a strange sense that I’d done this before. It reminded me of walking to the glowing pool behind Yipes, of not knowing what I would find there.

  Everyone else had moved off, leaving just Matilda, the dog, and me to make our way to the door.

  I called Ranger close to my side and felt his fur on my leg.

  “Will you go with me, too?” I asked Matilda.

  “I think you’d better go without me. But you’ll see me again, I promise.”

  She tucked her long, tangled hair behind her ears and stepped back on the path.

  Taking a deep breath, I pulled the wooden latch up and the door creaked open just a little. Ranger nudged his nose against the foot of the door and disappeared inside. It was bright in there—that much I could tell—but a salty wind blew the door shut the moment Ranger slipped through.

  “I don’t think I want to go through the door,” I said, turning back to where Matilda had been. But she was gone. I was alone on the path.

  “Ranger?” I whispered, opening the door a crack.

  “He’s in here.”

  The voice sounded gravelly and old. It mingled with the sea wind and the sound of Ranger prancing on the floor. I had to push hard on the door in order to get it open against the strong wind, and the moment I stepped out of its way the door slammed shut again. I was standing on a narrow veranda—only a few feet wide—with a rail of stone piled up as high as my waist. Which wasn’t high enough, since it was the only thing between where I stood and the open air leading down to the Lonely Sea.

  I reached for the door, a strong feeling of danger so very close to the edge, but Ranger was standing at my feet and wouldn’t move aside.

  “We don’t get many visitors here,” said the voice.

  I turned to my left and my own hair streamed in front of my eyes, the sea wind pushing at the side of my head as if to keep me from the edge. The stone rail ran straight and narrow to a table with two chairs. The veranda was so narrow that nothing else would fit—just the table, the two chairs—and a lone man staring out to sea.

  “I saw you coming from a long way out,” said the man. “A person can see a lot from up here.”

  He was ancient in the same way that Roland had been ancient. The sun and salty sea air had turned everything about him pleasantly warm. His skin was leathery brown and creased with wrinkles, his hair somewhere between gray and yellow. His nose was straight and thin like an arrow—and, most would conclude, it was a nose of above average length. Like all men who lived on the sea, his eyes were sparkling with life.

  “Come sit down. We can eat and enjoy the view. I like company out here when I can get it.”

  Of all the walks I’d ever taken, this one might have been the scariest. I cannot explain how high up it felt we were, how the pillar seemed to sway in the wind, how low the rail was at my side. A strong gust in the opposite direction would surely knock me off my feet. As if to mock my fear, Ranger put both front paws up on the stone ledge and wagged his tail, barking Hello!
at the Lonely Sea. I love dogs, but sometimes they do the strangest things.

  “Down, Ranger!” I said, a little too forcefully. I was afraid he might push the rail right over. Ranger went back to the door and lay down. This seemed like a good excuse for me to get down on my knees, and so I did, petting Ranger kindly. I was already down there, so I thought it just as well to crawl to the table. This made the man smile, deep crow’s feet appearing at the corners of his eyes. When I arrived at the table, I rose carefully to the level of the chair and sat down. The soft swaying of the stone pillar made me feel seasick, and I kept leaning in toward the thick wall of bushes. I realized then that this was no room, but simply a ledge surrounded by trees and brush with a well-placed arch and door.

  “Do we have to eat here?” I asked. “It’s so close to the edge.”

  The man stood up and leaned far out over the rail, which scared me half to death.

  “A few things I need to ask you first,” he said into the rushing wind. “And besides, if you’re going to be here a while—which I think is rather certain, given your circumstances—it’s best you get used to what it feels like to be near the edge.”

  He sat back down and looked at the plates before us with his brilliant gray eyes, nodding his chin.

  “We have very good fish here. It’s even cooked. And the potatoes are not to be missed.”

  The food did look awfully good, and it made me wonder when I had last eaten anything.

  “How long was I at Matilda’s house?”

  The man thought a moment before answering. It appeared he was having some trouble knowing for sure.

  “More than a day but less than two,” he finally told me.

  “Oh,” I responded. I had been hoping for a little more detail.

  I decided to try another question. “Who are you?” I asked.

  He picked some of the fish up off his plate with his hands and began eating it.

  “Jonezy. Formerly of Madame Vickers’s House on the Hill, presently a leader … of a sort,” he answered. Then he put another big chunk of white fish into his mouth, chewing it happily. This was the Jonezy—the one from Roland’s story—the last boy to arrive at Madame Vickers’s horrible orphanage before Roland and Thomas escaped. It was odd to have heard of Jonezy as a boy but see him as an old man. Very odd indeed.

  “What about Yipes, my friend? Can I see him?”

  Jonezy swallowed his fish and cleared his throat harshly, which made his old Adam’s apple jiggle up and down. He put his fingers to his mouth and pulled out a long, thin bone. When he was sure there were no more surprises hiding between his cheeks or in his teeth, he observed me carefully.

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  I felt awkward—like I was in trouble—and I turned toward the door so I could see how far away it was.

  “What about if we take turns, you and me?” Jonezy said, seeing that I was feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll ask a question, then you ask one. We’ll go back and forth. I think we both need some information the other possesses, don’t you?”

  “Is that your first question?” I asked. Something about that phrase reminded me of Pervis Kotcher, an old friend I hadn’t seen in a long while, and I was suddenly sad about so many things. I wanted to cry—probably needed to cry—but Ranger came up next to me and licked my hand. I felt a little better as he looked at me with those comforting eyes.

  “He told me you were a smart one,” said Jonezy. “I guess I’ll have to be more careful.”

  He nodded toward me, signaling that it had indeed been his first question and that now, by rights, it was my turn. I went easy on him.

  “Who told you I was a smart one?”

  “Why, Roland, of course. Who else would tell me such a thing?”

  He gobbled some more fish, and I did the same. It felt good to have food in my stomach.

  “Is that your second question?” I asked through a mouthful of food. Ranger whimpered and I held my fishy hand down so he could lick my fingers.

  “This is ridiculous. How am I supposed to get any of my questions answered if you keep tricking me that way?”

  “That sounded sort of like another question, don’t you think?”

  Jonezy laughed and nodded in my direction. He was unusual, but I was starting to like him.

  “You were one of the first here,” I said. “Roland told us your story, about life at the House on the Hill. About how he and Thomas saved you.”

  “And the giant! Armon the giant. I’d give almost anything to see him again. A remarkable creature.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Armon had returned to the Tenth City, that he’d never be seen again.

  No more soft questions. I wanted real answers.

  “Why can’t I see my friend Yipes?”

  Jonezy ate some potatoes, filling his mouth in order to give himself a moment to think.

  “Because we’re not sure why you’ve come here,” he finally said. After another pause in which he cleaned the corners of his mouth with his fingers, he added, “Why did you come here, Alexa Daley?”

  I did not feel that Jonezy was accusing me, but he was visibly concerned about the answer. What I said would matter a lot. I paused, petting Ranger’s windblown fur. My pause lasted too long and Jonezy stood, leaning over the edge of the stone rail once more.

  “Roland was my closest friend. We shared many years together and more meals than I can count, at this very table. And I stood here, helpless, watching his beloved ship torn to pieces. There are only two people on the Five Stone Pillars with enough skill to swing that low, and neither are strong enough to carry someone as heavy as Roland.”

  He turned to me, the sea wind pushing tears along the tracks of his cheeks.

  “The Lonely Sea has taken him. And in his place we are left with you and your friend, two people we know little about. And one other.”

  “What other?” I asked, surprised and heartbroken anew at the certainty of Roland’s death. “There were only the three of us—that’s all.”

  Jonezy leaned out over the water again, and this time he pointed.

  “That!” he yelled. “The monster that killed the captain and sunk the ship. It remains!”

  This was enough to finally get me out of my chair and standing at the rail. As terrifying as it was to lean out and look down, I made myself do it.

  “What is it?” asked Jonezy. “What terrible thing did you bring here?”

  He was not so much afraid as confused. And I could see why he might be suspicious of me, of Yipes, even against his own better judgment. Roland was dead, the Warwick Beacon was sunk, and below us was a monster we’d brought to destroy a place that had always been kept secret and safe.

  It was as if Abaddon knew I was looking down at him, knew of my very presence at the edge. There was a great boiling of water at the base of the stone pillar to my left. Then Abaddon’s metal arms emerged, snapping with electricity and flames against the base of the narrowest of the stone pillars. Chunks of stone broke free and were hurled into the ocean. The sea monster was ripping the stone pillar apart—and was also climbing! Arms scaled in rusted steel were grabbing hold of the pillar, pulling the full weight of Abaddon’s body and head into the air.

  This is my home now, Alexa Daley. You and your friends aren’t welcome here.

  I heard the grave and haunting voice of Abaddon on the wind and covered my ears.

  “It does sound awful, doesn’t it?” asked Jonezy. “The way it whips those arms into the pillar.”

  Abaddon drifted back down, laughing in my head, the water frothing angrily until at last the sea monster disappeared. All was quiet again in the Lonely Sea.

  I turned to sit back down and found Ranger in my place. He’d eaten all the food off my plate.

  “You really have to watch him,” said Jonezy. “He’s sneaky.”

  I pushed Ranger gently aside and he stopped licking his paws just long enough to step off the chair.

  “Here, take mine.�
� Jonezy slid his plate across the table, but I’d lost my appetite.

  “We didn’t mean to bring that monster to the Five Stone Pillars,” I told him. “You have to believe me.”

  Jonezy leaned forward on his elbows, taking a wedge of potato from the plate he’d pushed toward me. He popped it in his mouth and spoke as he chewed.

  “We’re going for a walk, you and me. You must tell me everything,” he said, running a sleeveless arm across his mouth. “And quickly.”

  CHAPTER 5

  MY STATION REVEALED

  Jonezy stood and pushed his chair to the side of the table. “Follow me,” he said. “I don’t want to be bothered by anyone until we’re at the bridge.”

  I remembered the looping rope bridge I’d seen leading to the third pillar.

  “You’re taking me to see Yipes!” I cried.

  “Different bridge,” he informed me, getting down on his knees and crawling through a hole in the bushes behind the table. He didn’t wait or speak any instructions—he simply vanished into darkness. I was again reminded of old feelings—crawling through caves and tunnels, leading to places unknown, following behind those I wasn’t sure I could trust. The gust of wind kicked up and pushed against the tall, unkempt hedge. The leaves brushed against one another and made a tangled sound.

  Ranger barked sharply as if to say, Let’s go, Alexa—standing here isn’t getting you any closer to finding Yipes. And so I dutifully followed, hoping I could build some trust with Jonezy as we made our way. I was surprised to find that Ranger wouldn’t follow me after all. He whimpered as I disappeared into the hole, poking his head inside then darting back again into the light of the terrace.

  “He won’t follow us, and that’s probably best,” said Jonezy. His voice startled me.

  “Why won’t he come in here?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe he likes to know where he’s going.”

  “I’d like to know that as well,” I said, backing up ever so slowly toward the terrace.