Chapter 25 #4
Rushing back to her desk, she forced herself to think. She didn’t want it to appear like she was going behind her captain’s back. She was in a way, but there was no need to alarm Captain Forrester or his wife when Colin might be on the ferry home and walk into the house a little late for dinner.
She sent the e-mail with the pictures to the address Lucas Frost provided—and to her work e-mail at the precinct.
Having done all she could do for the moment, Beth ran out to buy some food from the food trucks. She gave no thought to going home. Not now.
Returning to her desk, she unwrapped a sandwich and settled down to wait.
Lucas printed out the picture of the boy.
He folded the paper several times to fit into the pocket of his leather jacket, then headed back to the moon gate.
He didn’t know who was ringing the bell that indicated the last ferry was boarding, but he nodded to the visitors who were chatting as they hustled to reach the dock.
No sign of young males.
Lucas reached the moon gate. Transportation. Transformation. Destiny could be shaped within those two words.
He pressed his hand against one of the stones in the gate. It was true that the gates only opened one way—unless you were Wyrd’s Sorcerer King and had a special bond with the uncanny that made up the island. But even the Sorcerer King needed to take some care with a moon gate.
Transportation.
Lucas pushed the two sides of the gate open and said, “Stay in this moment until I return.”
He walked through the gate and strode over the wide dirt path until it reached the paved road and the ticket station.
The stationmaster was from a minor branch of the Arcana and looked…safe…to the uninitiated.
“Something I can do for you, Mr. Frost?”
“Perhaps.” Lucas removed the paper and unfolded it to reveal the picture. “Have you seen him?”
The stationmaster looked wary. “I saw him. Polite boy, unlike the one who came after him.” He pointed to the picture. “This one bought a ten-punch ticket.”
“Destination?”
“Don’t know. The boy said he knew what he needed to find but didn’t know the name of the place. I know he boarded a bus, but I was watching the other one running toward the station. Didn’t like the look of that one.”
“Did the other one buy a ticket?”
Grim delight in the stationmaster’s eyes. “He did not.”
Then that boy had boarded the wrong bus and wasn’t ever going to be found—or he would return in weeks, months, maybe years. Even if he returned, he wouldn’t be the same. Not after being a ghost.
“When the polite boy came up to the station, I could hear two more shouting,” the stationmaster said. “One came here, like I said. I think the other went to the train station.”
“Thank you. I’ll check.” Lucas refolded the paper and put it in his pocket.
“Are they important?”
“They were important to someone.” Past tense, because there was only one train that let a person board without a ticket, and that train only let you off at the grave.
To be thorough, Lucas retraced his steps until he reached the path that led to the train station. The stationmaster there confirmed that a rude boy had boarded the train without a ticket.
Lucas headed back to the moon gate and walked through. He pressed his hand to the stone opposite the one he’d pressed before—and the gate closed.
Transformation. Transportation. An unwanted fate if a person was careless.
Or maybe an unexpected destiny?
Two boys were definitely lost. The third? Lost, yes, but if the boy had really listened to what Katherine Rose had said when she read his cards, if he focused on what he needed before he got on a bus, he could be all right and might even find his way back.
It was possible. And possible was all the hope he could give Charles Forrester and his family.
Lucas returned to the pavilion and the room where Justine and her sisters saw the potential lines of fate.
“We weighed the possessions of each of these males and came up with the same conclusion,” Justine said.
“Anger and vengeance began this path,” Zerah said.
“If you want to give these males a chance to live, this is where the path ends.” Lysandra held up her sketchbook.
A yard with a high fence. A man standing in the doorway, backlit from the room beyond. A street address in the town of Penwych.
“Mia Skov says she has darts that can be used in a specially shaped slingshot—darts that will put the wild dogs to sleep for capture,” Justine said.
Lucas nodded. “They can’t be allowed to stay on Wyrd.
If we can capture them, we won’t have to kill them.
If they specified a time limit for their transformation, that I can’t change.
But if they went through without intention and we find them before they’ve spent a full day as wild dogs, I can force a change, and they’ll go back to their original form when the sun rises. ”
If the Arcana didn’t find the dogs in time and he tried to force a change after that first sunrise, the boys would cycle through the forms over and over until their bodies collapsed from the strain—or someone, terrified at seeing the legend of the werewolf come to life, killed them.
Ethan Sharpe entered the room with Jack Frost.
“No disturbances around the pavilion,” Ethan said. “And I made sure there was no one left wandering in the park before the last ferry left.”
“No young males were on the last ferry,” Jack said.
“They wouldn’t be.” Lucas told them what he’d learned at the ticket station.
Jack blew out a breath. “More young humans going home transformed or not going home at all? That won’t go down well with the people across the river.”
“No, it won’t,” Lucas agreed. The Arcana didn’t usually care about what did or didn’t go down well across the river, but the fate of Forrester’s boy changed things—because Forrester was connected to Beth Fahey.
Lucas gestured toward Lysandra’s sketchbook. “The lines of fate for the transformed males. Can we deliver them to the police in their current form?”
The Ladies Three looked at one another and shook their heads.
“Every other line I tried to follow has the dogs killing humans before they themselves are killed,” Lysandra said. “That fenced yard is the only chance they have of staying alive long enough to change back to human. But…” She looked at Justine.
“We saw nothing beyond that yard,” Justine said. “Once they are delivered to that address, their fate is in someone else’s hands.”
5
Charles Forrester opened the back door of his house and walked into the kitchen.
A workout at the gym had tired him in a good way, and he was ready to spend the evening with Aisha.
The children, too, but they had reached an age where they were busy with after-school activities or friends, and quality time with them was usually when he was driving them to one place or another.
He didn’t mind. They were good kids, and he loved them.
Teaching them that adults needed “me time” was one reason he went to the gym after work a couple of days a week—but he usually scheduled those workouts on the same days that Colin had swim practice so that they could all sit down together for dinner.
He smiled at his wife and said, “Hi.”
His daughter, Jazz, threw herself into his arms and held on while Aisha looked at him with eyes full of fear.
“What’s going on?” Charles dropped his gym bag and held out a hand to his wife since his daughter was holding on to him as if her life depended on it.
“Colin didn’t come home,” Aisha said, hurrying across the kitchen to grab his hand.
Charles looked at the clock on the wall near the kitchen table where they had their family meals. “Is swim practice running late? Does he need me to pick him up from school?”
“He wasn’t at swim practice,” Aisha said. “The coach called to ask why he didn’t show up. I’ve called Colin several times since talking to the coach, but his phone always goes to voicemail.”
Charles tried to untangle himself from Jazz’s grip without hurting the girl.
“And Jazz has something to tell you,” Aisha added.
He put his hand on his daughter’s head. “Honey? You know something about this?”
Jazz nodded. “Davie’s brother said Colin cut his last class and left school with Dare’s Doggs.”
Rattled that Colin would skip a class, let alone leave school with Darren Palmer’s gang of bullyboys, he almost asked who Davie was, but he remembered in time that a month ago, Davie had been Davinia Madison.
Davie’s parents hoped this was just a phase, but whatever the reason for the choice, he made an effort to use the correct pronoun whenever Jazz’s friend came to their house.
Now he understood the fear in Aisha’s eyes.
Albert Palmer had been campaigning for months to have Wyrd outlawed in some way—as if that was possible.
He’d blamed the police for not protecting his son, ignoring the fact that no town around the Fate River had any jurisdiction on the island.
You went there at your own risk—and sometimes the risk was fatal.
But why would Colin go with Darren Palmer’s friends?
A chill went through Charles. He could think of one reason.
He kissed his wife and released himself from his daughter’s hold. “You two get something to eat. I’m going back to the precinct to see what I can find out.”
He left the house and got in the car. Before he pulled out of the driveway, he made a call. “Colin, it’s Dad. I need to know where you are. Call me as soon as you get this message.” Since he didn’t expect a return call, he called Kuhn and Castelletti and asked them to return to the precinct.
He hesitated, then made one more call to the precinct—and was told that Beth Fahey hadn’t left for the day.
Was his hesitation about calling her in with the rest of his team patronizing or practical?
Or was he saving the one who had an affinity with the Arcana to help him deal with whatever was to come?
6