“What do you want?” Mark grumbled.
“Hey, don’t get all testy with me,” Mitchell shot back. “I’m just out here having a smoke. Seeing Chetwynde getting whupped up on was a bonus.” Mitchell wheezed out a laugh through yellowed, smoke-stained teeth.
“Go away,” was all Mark managed to squeak out. He turned and walked off, but Mitchell followed.
“I didn’t forget, Dimond,” Mitchell snarled. “About them journals. Pendragon is out there somewhere. You know it and I know it and I know you know I know it.”
Truth be told, there was a third person who knew about what happened to Bobby Pendragon. It was Andy Mitchell. Mitchell had seen one of Bobby’s journals and blackmailed Mark into showing him the rest.
Mark turned to Mitchell, standing toe to toe with him. “All I know is, you’re an idiot. And I’m not afraid of you anymore!”
Mark and Andy held each other’s gaze. Mark had had enough of this bully and would almost welcome a fight. Almost. Mark wasn’t a fighter. If Mitchell called his bluff and took a swing, things would get real ugly, real fast. For Mark.
“Hey, Mitchell,” Courtney said.
She stood behind Mitchell with her gear bag in one hand and her cleats in the other. She looked tired and dirty and not in the mood to be messed with. “What are you doing in high school? I thought you’d be out stealing cars by now.”
Andy ducked away from her. He didn’t mess with Courtney, no matter how bad she looked playing soccer.
“Real funny, Chetwynde,” Mitchell sneered. “You two think you’re being all smart, but I know.”
“What do you know?” Courtney asked.
Mark said, “He knows we know he knows… or something like that. You know?”
Mark and Courtney chuckled. They knew Mitchell wasn’t a threat to them anymore. He wasn’t smart enough for that.
“Yeah, you laugh,” he sneered. “But I read those journals. You gonna laugh when that Saint Dane dude comes here looking for them?”
With that, Mitchell snorted back another good one, then turned and hurried away.
Mark and Courtney weren’t chuckling anymore. They silently watched Mitchell jog off. Then Courtney said, “Well, today pretty much… sucked.”
The two walked to catch the late bus home. Normally Courtney would sit in the back of the bus with the cool kids and Mark would sit up front with the not-cool kids. Not today. There were a couple of girls in back who had just taken Courtney apart on the soccer field. They were sitting with some guys from the football team, laughing and flirting. Courtney wasn’t welcome. She had to sit in the front of the bus with Mark. It was the final indignity.
“You want to tell me about your day?” Courtney asked.
“No,” answered Mark. “You?”
“No.”
They rode in silence, both wondering if the rest of high school was going to be as painful as the first few hours. Finally Courtney asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Mark glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. He kept his voice low, just in case. “I’ve been thinking,” he began. “Remember what I said before? In spite of what Mitchell just said, I think we dodged a bullet. When the Travelers stopped Saint Dane on First Earth, I think they saved all three Earth territories. Remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Courtney said, then added with growing annoyance, “and I remember you saying how disappointed you were because you wanted Saint Dane to come here so you could help Bobby fight him. And I remember saying that you were totally crazy. Do you remember that part, Markie boy?”
Mark nodded.
“Good,” Courtney said. “Then stop thinking so much.”
“But still,” Mark added. “I want to be able to help Bobby.”
“Wearehelping him,” Courtney corrected. “We’re holding his journals.”
“But that’s like almost nothing,” Mark countered. “I want to really help him.”
“We can’t, Mark.”
Mark gave her a sly smile. “Don’t be so sure.”
Courtney gave Mark a long, probing look.”Now what are you thinking?”
“I want to become an acolyte. I want us both to become acolytes.”
“Aco-whats?”
“You know, acolytes. Bobby wrote about them. The people from the territories who help the Travelers. They put supplies by the flumes for the Travelers. They’re the ones who kept Press’s motorcycle, and had his car ready when he got back. It’s totally safe, but really important.”
“Safe?” Courtney shot back. “You think going to that abandoned subway in the Bronx and getting past those quig-dogs is safe?”
“Maybe there’s another flume here on Second Earth,” Mark added hopefully. “They have more than one flume on other territories, why not here?”
“And what if it’s in Alaska?” Courtney lobbed back. “You want to move to Alaska?”
“After the day I had, absolutely.”
“You don’t mean that.”
The two rode in silence for a few more stops. A couple of the soccer girls got off and made a point of ignoring Courtney. Courtney didn’t care. Her mind was back on the journals, and Bobby.
“I know you care, Mark,” Courtney said softly. “I do too. But even if I thought this acolyte thing was a good idea, how would we do it?”
Mark sat up straight, encouraged that Courtney was at least considering it.
“I don’t know, but when Bobby was home I talked to him about it-“
“You already asked Bobby?” Courtney interrupted. “Without talking to me first?”
“All I did was ask him to look into it,” Mark said. “He didn’t know any more about acolytes than he wrote, but he promised to try and find out. What do you think?”
“I think I gotta think about it. And I think this is my stop.” Courtney stood.
“Promise me that?” Mark asked. “You’ll think about it?”
“Yeah,” Courtney answered. “But I gotta know more.”
“Absolutely,” Mark said.
Courtney swung down the bus stairs and out the door. Mark felt better than he had all day. He felt sure that if Bobby got them information about the acolytes, Courtney would join up with him. It was a great feeling to know he might actually have a shot at helping Bobby in a real way.
As Mark lay in bed that night he couldn’t stop his mind from imagining the possibilities. If they became acolytes, could they actually fly through the flumes? That would be awesome! He imagined himself on Cloral, speeding underwater with Bobby. He could see himself racing a sled down the snowy slopes of Denduron, dodging the charging quig-bears. He even saw himself on Zadaa, battling through the capture the flag game alongside Loor.
Mark had to force himself to think of something else for fear he’d never get to sleep. He turned his mind to math problems. He thought of lying on the beach at the Point. He imagined looking up at puffy clouds on a warm summer’s day. He pretended his ring was twitching and another journal from Bobby was about to show up.
Mark sat bolt upright in bed. That wasn’t his imagination. Mark’s ring was twitching. He looked at his hand. The stone in the heavy silver ring was dissolving from dark gray into crystal clear. That meant only one thing…
Mark wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon.
He threw his feet over the side of his bed, yanked off the ring, and placed it on the rug. The small circle became larger, revealing a dark hole where the floor should have been. Mark knew this was the conduit to another territory. He heard the jumble of sweet musical notes that sounded far away at first, but quickly grew louder. Sparkling light then blasted out of the hole, lighting up his room like a thousand fireflies. Mark had to shield his eyes from the brilliant show.
Then, as always, the event abruptly stopped. The lights went out and the music was gone. Mark peeked through his fingers to see that the ring had returned to normal. As always, the mysterious ring had made a
