Chapter 42 #4
Maybe there were places that were close to normal on the island.
After all, it wasn’t tiny. He and Colin Forrester had taken the river bus all the way around the island one afternoon just to see it.
Not that they’d seen all that much; the river bus hugged the side of the Fate River that was closer to the mainland towns, since that’s where people got on and off in order to go to jobs or go shopping and whatnot.
Colin said there were boats that hired out as water taxis that maybe would take you to Destiny Bay, but he’d heard there wasn’t any touristy stuff around the bay.
There was a beach and there were docks where fishing boats or supply boats could tie up, or whatever that boat term was—why would he know that shit?
—but there wasn’t anything interesting except the pavilion and the park on this side of the island.
“Score,” Dare said.
Ted looked around. He’d been following blindly, lost in thoughts of escaping and going home without Dare and his bullyboys beating the shit out of him tomorrow at school.
In front of them was one of the moon gates.
An arch made of stone with openwork metal gates that had a large butterfly in the center.
The keystone had…symbols? He wasn’t sure about that, but he was certain that he didn’t want to push those metal gates open and walk under that arch.
He was also certain that Dare would make him go first. Despite all his big-balls talk, Dare usually wasn’t the first to do anything if someone else could be sacrificed.
He couldn’t leave without Dare’s permission, not if he wanted to survive this school year, but maybe he could make Dare order him to go away.
“You’re a rat, Dare.” Ted’s voice carried. Not that there was anyone around to hear him and come over to check out what he and Dare were doing.
Dare pushed at the metal gates, which swung open over well-trimmed grass, each gate holding half the butterfly. Then he turned back and gave Ted that psycho smile that made the younger kids at school wet their pants. “Oh, yeah? Why is that, Tedious?”
“You told everyone that I felt up Melissa Stevens under her shirt.”
“You wanted to, didn’t you?”
Sure he did, but he hadn’t done it. “I liked her, and now she won’t even talk to me.”
“Screw her,” Dare said. “Come here and see what this moon gate is all about.”
Something flickered on the keystone. Ted stared at it a minute. Was the symbol changing? He blinked. The symbols changed to letters.
Trans
porta
tion
Trans
forma
tion
Changing over and over, like the designation sign on a bus when it changes its route. Changing. Changing.
“Come on, Tedious,” Dare said. “Do as you’re told.”
No fucking way. “If you’re so curious, you go first.” Bravery born of terror filled Ted. “Or are you chicken?”
“That’s right, Tedious. I’m a chicken!” Dare tucked his hands under his arms and moved his elbows like wings. “Look at me! I’m a rat-faced chicken!” He danced around making clucking noises.
The letters on the keystone kept changing, changing: Transportation. Transformation. “Dare, you’re too close to the gate.”
“I’m a rat-faced chicken. Cluck, cluck, cluck.” Dare kept moving his arms and doing some kind of dance. “I’m a rat-faced chicken!”
Dare danced under the arch—and disappeared.
Ted stared at the pile of clothes on the ground. Then he heard something scream. Not human and yet…
He raced around the gate. Something moved under the clothes as it screamed.
He took a step toward the moving clothes. Took two steps back as something freed itself from the T-shirt. It looked at him as it flapped its wings and screamed.
A rat-faced chicken.
“D-Dare?”
The thing flapped its wings. It opened its rat mouth and screamed.
Whump!
Something dropped from the sky. One big taloned foot landed on Dare’s back.
Hawk? Eagle? Owl? How was he supposed to know? Whatever it was, it was almost as tall as he was. It looked at him and screamed, but not in terror. No, this was a challenge.
Ted didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The bird tightened its grip on its prey, which produced one final squeak as the bird’s talons dug into flesh.
The bird flew away with its meal.
Ted stared at the bird and the thing that hung from its talons. He stared at the pile of empty clothes.
He fell to his knees and threw up.
Then he ran, blind to direction because the only direction he needed right now was away.
5
“Two came this way,” Deerman told Lucas Frost as they studied the open moon gate.
“Only one set of clothes here.” Lucas didn’t look for a cell phone or a wallet that might hold identification. He simply put the clothes into the cardboard box he’d brought with him. Identification was a problem for the police.
“Someone was careless with destiny.”
“Yes.” Possibly more than one if the other youth he’d seen getting off the ferry that morning had gone through the moon gate when it offered connections to transportation instead of transformation. If that was the case, the boy could be anywhere depending on which train, bus, or boat he boarded.
Lucas raised a hand. The two sides of the gate slowly closed, the butterfly once more whole. He looked at Deerman and wondered, not for the first time, if that branch of the Arcana had intended to be a meld of human and deer, or if a transformation had gone wrong a long time ago.
“If you see anything else, let me know,” Lucas said.
“By now, there won’t be much to find.”
Of course, he and Deerman were assuming this human hadn’t been prepared for the change.
It was possible that the boy was running in another form or hiding as he adjusted to a new shape.
But more likely, if he transformed into some kind of prey form, all they would find were bones left from a predator’s kill.
Lucas walked back to the pavilion. The moon gates were far enough away from the part of the park most visitors saw.
Around the pavilion and the ornamental lake, humans could play at finding out their potential destiny, although what they were told was never completely play.
When you went deeper into the park, embracing destiny was no longer any kind of game, and you couldn’t be careless with words or intentions.
An archway in the pavilion that looked filled by a slab of solid stone shimmered as Lucas approached. He walked through the shimmer and stepped into an office that had state-of-the-art electronic equipment and looked like a CEO’s suite.
Setting the box on a wooden conference table, Lucas walked to his desk and placed a call to Charles Forrester.
“Captain. Send one of your men to the pier to meet the next ferry. We found some clothing that needs your attention. Detective Fahey isn’t required for this pickup since there is no need to travel to Wyrd at this time. ”
“Understood,” Forrester said.
Yes, Lucas thought as he finished the call and took the box of clothes to the ferry’s dock. Forrester understood what he meant, which is why the police captain didn’t ask any questions about the clothes.
6
Charles Forrester stepped out of his office as Castelletti and Fahey gathered around the large table where the team reviewed physical evidence or crime scene photos, setting out the material like it was pieces of a puzzle.
And it was a puzzle, but often the picture showed the aftermath of a lethal event.
“Any problems, Kuhn?” he asked the detective he’d sent to meet the ferry.
“No, sir,” Ian Kuhn replied. “The ferry was pulling in when I reached the pier. After the people disembarked, one of the crew got off and handed the box to me.” He waved a hand at the box, which had the flaps folded to keep the top closed.
“Wasn’t sealed with tape, but I didn’t check the contents.
I figured you’d want us to do that here. ”
Forrester hesitated for a moment, tempted to send Fahey out on a spurious errand.
He knew Lucas Frost was interested in Fahey—not in a sexual way, but something about the young detective had caught the Arcana’s attention, and that was seldom good.
But his team’s investigations were always going to brush against the Isle of Wyrd because that was the reason for this special group of detectives, so Fahey had to come to terms with the truth or she’d burn out and transfer to another unit—or quit the police force altogether.
“Open it,” he said.
Kuhn put on gloves, opened the flaps, and identified each item as he placed it on the table. “Sneakers, scuffed but fairly new. No socks. Plain T-shirt, medium blue. Briefs. Jeans.” He emptied the pockets. “Cell phone. Four gold coins. Wallet with”—a hesitation—“a student ID.”
Forrester studied the ID. “He goes to my son’s school.”
“This is a school day, Captain,” Castelletti said. “A boy going over to Wyrd for fun or mischief isn’t going to skip school and go alone.”
Forrester nodded. “Call the school. Ask if any of Darren Palmer’s friends didn’t show up today.”
Castelletti went to his desk to make the call.
“Should we contact his parents?” Fahey asked.
“Not yet,” Forrester replied. “We don’t know what happened to their son.” He knew how he would feel if he received that call when the cops couldn’t provide any answers, and having distraught parents charging into the pavilion and making demands wouldn’t help matters.
Fate. Destiny. Whatever you wanted to call it, it could be a screaming bitch.
“The school will tell them Darren didn’t show up today,” Fahey said.
Castelletti returned. “All of Darren Palmer’s friends were in school, but a boy who often received Palmer’s attention—”
“Meaning he was bullied,” Kuhn cut in.
Castelletti nodded. “That’s how I heard it. Ted Ocampo also isn’t in school. Could be sick. Could be faking being sick to get out of a test or to avoid Palmer and his friends. But…”
“I know him,” Forrester said. “Ocampo and my son are on the school’s swim team and sometimes hang out together.”