Magisterium

The explanation — who Aamon really was, who he said he was

— sat there, poised, but Glenn couldn’t give it voice. Kevin would think she was insane.

“I don’t know,” she said. “He was just …”

“What? Out to get groceries? Walking the dog?” Glenn ignored him and he shifted tack, tapping the edge of the bracelet. “So, they’re all after this thing, huh? What’s it do, anyway?”

Glenn pulled the bracelet underneath her sleeve. She guessed he had some right to know what he had been shot for, so she told him as best she could about her father’s theory.

“Huh. A reality bubble,” Kevin said with his usual nonchalance.

“Good name for a band. Reality Bubble. So I guess your dad really is some kind of genius, huh?”

Glenn paused, the sadness tugging at her again.

“What did he make it for?”

In the thousand things she’d had to deal with since the previous night, this was the one thing that had been crowded out. Maybe the one thing she wanted crowded out. Dad said he made it to rescue Mom. To bring her back. Glenn had thought it was a deranged knightin-shining-armor fantasy, but now that it seemed like so much else was true, could that be real too? Aamon had said outsiders weren’t welcome in the Magisterium. Could her mother have crossed over for some reason and been imprisoned by someone like this Garen Tom, or the Magistra Aamon kept referring to? And if she was … what was Glenn supposed to do about that?

“Hello? Earth to Morgan?”

“What?” Glenn said quickly, snapping herself out of it and

continuing down the road without a destination in mind. “Nothing. It was a project. Theoretical. That’s all.”

Kevin eyed her carefully, but after a moment’s consideration, he let it go. He took off again, pausing to kick at a pebble and sending it careening into an open building that had racks of herbs drying outside of it.

“You know,” he said. “I think you need to give me some credit here.”

“For what?”

“Well, for starters, for my being so magnanimous when I was right about everything. The Rift wasn’t some big boom that made this place into a wasteland. It made medieval villages and people with tails.

I won’t even mention how you called me an idiot the other day.”

“I never — ”

“You suggested. You intimated.”

“Look, just because — ”

“You’re not about to say that all of this proves nothing.”

“Well …”

“Oh. Come. On!”

Glenn hunted for the right words. The desire to not hand such an easy victory to Kevin and his Rifter friends was overwhelming.

“Obviously, there’s more to the Rift than we’ve been told.”

“Really? You think?”

“But we’ve only been here a day. Less than a day! I’m not ready to start believing in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.”

“How about a giant talking cat man? Who, by the way, looks an awful lot like — ”

“Enough!”

“Ha! It’s true, isn’t it?” Kevin stabbed one finger at her nose. He was practically dancing beside her. “I knew it! Aamon is totally Hopkins! That is so awesome! It’s that white patch on his neck. It completely gives it away.” A sudden look of horror came into Kevin’s eyes. “Oh no, your mom and dad never …”

He made a little snip-snip gesture with two fingers.

“No,” Glenn said. “Dad wanted to take him to the vet, but Mom would never let him.” And now I guess that makes sense….

“Well, that’s one lucky cat. He may have nine lives but only two

— Hey, look!”

Kevin pointed down the road to where Aamon had appeared from behind a set of buildings. He moved toward the far end of the village to a thick stand of trees enclosed by the outer wall. Aamon stopped at the edge of the woods, then turned around to scan the empty plaza. Glenn shoved Kevin behind a nearby building. After a pause, she peeked around the corner. Once Aamon had ensured he was alone, he slipped into the woods and disappeared. Glenn looked back at Kevin.

“We so have to find out what he’s up to,” he said.

Most of the villagers had gone through the gates by now, so the square behind them was quiet. Glenn peered into the woods ahead but couldn’t make anything out.

“Okay, but we have to be careful. A qui-”

But Kevin was already hobbling past her, his hand grasping at his injured side.

“Kevin!”

Glenn cursed Kevin in her head but had to admit she was also curious to see what Aamon was up to. They crossed the plaza, circling around to the far side of the stand of trees.

The woods were deeper and thicker than Glenn would have

guessed, enough so that it looked to be a grim sort of twilight within it.

There was no sign of Aamon. Glenn’s heart began to thrum in her chest.

Stupid, she told herself. It was broad daylight. Nothing was going to happen. And she had no reason to be afraid of Aamon. Right?

Glenn stepped away from the edge of the plaza and into the forest.

Kevin zipped up his leather jacket as quietly as he could and stuffed his hands in the pockets. He was pale and sweaty despite the cold. This was a terrible idea, Glenn thought. He needs rest. We can’t — Dry twigs and pine needles crunched out ahead of them. Glenn froze as a flash of gray passed from tree to tree and then vanished.

Aamon. They were close. Before she could say anything, Kevin took the lead and walked them right to the edge of what seemed to be the heart of the small woods: a thick circle of broad trees overgrown with vines, fallen leaves, and thick splashes of white and green moss. Glenn and Kevin knelt down behind two trees and peered inside.

In the center of the forest were the ruins of a large stone building.

Judging from the partial walls that remained, Glenn guessed it had been at least three or four times the size of the smaller village shacks. A meeting hall? A church? Large irregular stones and remnants of the plaster that once held them together lay in heaps, tossed with pine needles and vines. Underneath the growth of moss, many of the stones were cracked and blackened as if they had been in a fire. Whatever had been inside the building was blocked by one surviving wall that stood in the way of Glenn and Kevin’s view.

Aamon stood at the edge of the destruction, looking down at it all.

His great shoulders were slumped, his head low. Kevin shifted his gaze to Glenn, waiting for her cue. When Aamon stepped onto the blackened ground and behind the wall, she made her move.

They eased deeper into the woods, choosing their steps carefully to make as little sound as possible, drifting to their left so they could see around the remaining wall. All of the rubble seemed to radiate from one central point, what had been the center of the ruined building.

There sat a high stone table that was cracked in two and charred. It was surrounded by wooden pews set in a circle, some of which were little more than ash and black timbers.

Aamon kicked away pieces of the crumbled pews, making a path to the table. When a pile of debris got in his way, he reached into it with a growl and threw the charred wood over the wall and out into the forest. It echoed as it crashed through the woods. A flight of birds squalled and fled. Aamon dropped to his knees before the table. Glenn moved forward to get a better look, but Kevin held her back. She turned, uncertain, then held up one finger and he grudgingly let go. Glenn continued on and hid behind a closer tree.

On the base of the stone table, partially gouged away and