Beautiful Redemption
Page 30

I yanked the paper harder, and it slid all the way out from the pile and fluttered onto the floor.
Neither one of them looked up.
Lena stirred milk into her tea. I reached for her hand with mine, squeezing it until she dropped the spoon, splashing tea onto the tablecloth.
Lena stared at her teacup, flexing her fingers. She leaned down to blot the tablecloth with her napkin. Then she noticed the paper on the floor, where it had landed next to her foot.
“What’s this?” She picked up The Stars and Stripes. “I didn’t know you subscribed to this paper, Uncle M.”
“I do. I find it’s helpful to know what’s going on in town. You wouldn’t want to miss, I don’t know, the latest diabolical plan of Mrs. Lincoln and the Ladies Auxiliary.” He smiled. “Where would the fun be in that?”
I held my breath.
She tossed it over, facedown on the table.
The crossword was on the back. The Sunday edition, just like I’d planned it back in the office of The Stars and Stripes.
She smiled to herself. “Amma would do this crossword in about five minutes.”
Macon looked up. “Less than that, I’m sure. I believe I could do it in three.”
“Really?”
“Try me.”
“Eleven across,” she said. “Apparition or phantasm. A spectral being. A spirit from another world. A ghost.”
Macon looked at her, his eyes narrowing.
Lena leaned over the paper, holding her tea. I watched as she began to read.
Figure it out, L. Please.
It was only when the teacup began to shake and fell to the carpet that I knew she’d gotten it—not the crossword but the message behind it.
“Ethan?” She looked up. I leaned closer, holding my cheek against hers. I knew she couldn’t feel it; I wasn’t back with her, not yet. But I knew she believed I was there, and for now that’s all that mattered.
Macon stared at her, surprised.
The chandelier above the table began to sway. The room brightened until it was blindingly white. The enormous dining room windows began to crack into hundreds of glass spiderwebs. Heavy drapes flew against the walls like feathers in the wind.
“Darling,” Macon began.
Lena’s hair curled in every direction. I closed my eyes as window after window began to shatter like fireworks.
Ethan?
I’m here.
Above everything, that was all I needed her to know.
Finally.
CHAPTER 13
Where the Crow Carries You
Lena knew I was there. It was hard to drag myself away, but she had figured out the truth. That was the main thing. Amma and Lena. I was two for two. It was a start.
And I was exhausted.
Now I had to find my way back to her for good. I crossed back in about ten seconds flat. If only the rest of the way was that easy.
I knew I should go home and tell my mom everything, but I also knew how worried she’d be about me going to the Far Keep. From what Genevieve and my mom and Aunt Prue and Obidias Trueblood had said, the Far Keep seemed like the last place a person would voluntarily go.
Especially a person with a mother.
I cataloged everything I needed to do, everywhere I needed to go. The river. The book. The river eyes—two smooth black stones. That’s what Obidias Trueblood said I needed. My mind kept going back to it, over and over.
How many smooth black stones could there be in the world? And how was I going to know which ones happened to be the eyes of the river, whatever that even meant?
Maybe I’d find them on the way. Or maybe I’d already found them, and I didn’t even know it.
A magical black rock, the eye of the river.
It sounded strangely familiar. Had I heard it before?
I thought back to Amma, to all the charms, every tiny bone, every bit of graveyard dirt and salt, every piece of string she’d given me to wear.
Then I remembered.
It wasn’t one of Amma’s charms. It was from the vision I saw when I opened the bottle in her room.
I had seen the stone hanging around Sulla’s neck. Sulla the Prophet. In the vision Amma had called it “the eye.”
The river’s eye.
Which meant I knew where to find it and how to get there—as long as I could figure out how to find my way to Wader’s Creek on this side.
It couldn’t be avoided, intimidating as it was. It was time to pay a visit to the Greats.
I unfolded Aunt Prue’s map. Now that I knew how to read the map, it wasn’t that hard to see where the Doorwells were marked. I found the red X on the Doorwell that led to Obidias’ place—the one at the Snow family crypt—so after that I went looking for every red mark I could find.
There were plenty of red Xs, but which of those Doorwells would take me to Wader’s Creek? Their destinations weren’t exactly marked like exits on the interstate—and I didn’t want to stumble into any of the surprises that could be waiting for a guy behind Otherworld door number three.
Snakes for fingers might be getting off easy.
There had to be some kind of logic. I didn’t know what connected the Doorwell behind the Snow family plot to the rocky path that had taken me to Obidias Trueblood, but there had to be something. Seeing as we were all related to one another around here, that something was probably blood.
What would connect one of these plots in His Garden of Perpetual Peace to the Greats? If there was a liquor store in the graveyard—or a buried coffin full of Uncle Abner’s Wild Turkey, or the ruins of a haunted bakery known for lemon meringue pie—he wouldn’t have been far behind me.