decided that worrying about how monkeying with history might change the future made her head hurt. She needed to get out of there and back to New York to find Mark.
A few hours later she was back in Manhattan, walking up Park Avenue toward the Manhattan Tower Hotel. It was midafternoon, but the November shadows were already growing long. It would be dark soon. Courtney’s plan was to go back to the hotel, eat something at the restaurant, then hide under the covers in Gunny’s bed and try to come up with a brilliant plan to find Mark. She got as far as the entrance to the garden in front of the Manhattan Tower, when she felt an odd sensation. She didn’t know what it was at first, so she stopped short. Her every sense was on alert. A second later she realized what it was.
Her ring was activating.
She looked around quickly to make sure nobody was watching. Dumb thought. She was in midtown Manhattan. Everybody was watching. The dark stone in the ring was already melting into crystal. She slapped her other hand over the ring to hide it and ran onto the hotel grounds. Frantically she looked about for a place that would give her some cover. She found it among the perfectly manicured trees and bushes. She leaped off the sidewalk into the dense foliage. The ring was growing. She came upon a small clearing that had a marble bench in front of a pond full of gold fish. Nobody was there, which was good, because whether she liked it or not, the ring was about to open up.
She put it on the ground and watched as the silver circle grew to Frisbee size, revealing a tunnel to the territories. Shafts of sparkling light shot from the dark hole, as did the sweet music. Courtney didn’t watch. She kept glancing around to make sure nobody else was witnessing this impossible, magic event. It was over in a matter of seconds and Courtney was finally able to breath. Her fear turned to curiosity as she jumped at the ring, ready to grab Bobby’s first journal from Ibara. She knelt down to see…
It wasn’t a journal. It was a gray envelope. Courtney curiously turned it over in her hands. It looked like a regular, old, everyday letter. Why would Bobby send her a letter? She quickly put the ring back on her finger and anxiously ripped open the mysterious envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper with printing. Courtney read it once. Twice. A third time more slowly, making sure she understood every word.
It wasn’t from Bobby. It was from Patrick. It was from Third Earth. It was trouble.
Bobby and Courtney,
I am sending this letter to First Earth in hopes that you are there, and that the flume sent you back to a time where you can still affect what happened. After you left Third Earth,
I continued my research into what may have happened to Mark Dimond. When you were here, we learned that he disappeared sometime in November. I now know more and must share it with you.
First, I learned that the company KEM Limited was based in London, England. KEM stood for Keaton Electrical Marvels. Company officials there were the first to have reported Mark Dimond missing. He was due to meet with them in London on November 13, 1937. He didn’t attend that meeting and was never seen again. There is no mention as to what may have happened to him. Foul play was suspected, but there was no proof of that.
I also found a small article that ran in a newspaper published in southern New Jersey. On November 20, 1937, a body washed up on shore in Atlantic City It was a male who was so badly decomposed it was impossible to identify him, though the cause of death was clear. He didn’t drown. He was shot. Oddly enough, he was wearing a tuxedo. In his pocket was a silver spoon that was engraved: RMS Queen Mary.
Bobby, Courtney, I found a record that stated Mark Dimond booked passage and left for London aboard the ocean liner Queen Mary on November 7. The implication is frightening. The coincidence is too great. I’m afraid that Mark Dimond never made it to London. I fear he was killed aboard the Queen Mary and his body dumped overboard.
If that’s the case, then your goal is clear. You’ve got to get to Mark before November 7 and stop him from boarding, because somebody on that ship means him harm.
If I learn any more I will send it to you. I hope you’ve received this. Good luck.
Patrick Mac “So that’s how it works,” came a voice.
Courtney jumped and yelped. Somebody had been watching her. She quickly crumpled Patrick’s note, shoved it in her pocket and stood up to face… Dodger.
“Y-You’re spying on me,” Courtney said angrily, her voice cracking. Her head was spinning. Too much was happening too fast.
“Sorry,” Dodger said. “I saw you walking toward the hotel then suddenly get all snaky and run into the bushes. What can I say? I was concerned.”
Courtney froze. How much had he seen? Dodger seemed troubled. He looked at her as if wanting to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. She decided the best way to deal with him was to get away.
“Don’t spy on me,” she said sharply, and started to walk.
“Wait!” Dodger exclaimed.
Courtney stopped, waiting for him to make the next move.
“Gunny’s my pal,” he said in the voice of a frightened little boy. “He’s one of the good guys. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
Courtney didn’t respond. She didn’t know where Dodger was going.
“Before he left for wherever it was he went, he asked me for a favor. He never asked favors of nobody, so I figured it had to be important. He told me there might come a time when he’d need my help. He wasn’t specific or nothin’, he just said he had an important job to do. Him and Pendragon and Spader. You know what he was talking about?”
Courtney did, of course, but she didn’t say.
“Anyhow, he said he was gonna leave for a while, but there might come a time when somebody came here looking for help. He asked me to do what I could for ‘em. Of course I said I’d do it. I’d do anything for Gunny. But when I asked what it was all about, he said he hoped I’d never have to know. Now I’m thinking it’s time I know.”
“Why’s that?” Courtney asked.
Dodger lifted his hand. He was wearing a silver band around one finger. He twisted it, showing Courtney that he was wearing it backward. When he spun it around, Courtney gasped.
It was a Traveler ring.
“He asked me to be his acolyte. I got no idea what that means, but I’ve been wearing this ring ever since. Then all of a sudden Pendragon comes back with you, and you’ve got one of these rings, and I just saw yours spew out sparks like it was the Fourth of July. I’m thinking it’s time I found out what Gunny was talking about.”
Courtney’s mind raced. What should she do? She definitely needed an ally, but was he telling the truth? She trusted a stranger once before and it nearly killed her. Was Dodger exactly what he said he was? An innocent friend that Gunny chose to be his acolyte? Or was there something sinister going on? Was this another disguise of Saint Dane’s?
“I just want to do what Gunny asked,” he said sincerely. “I want to help you.”
“Are you Saint Dane?” Courtney asked, point blank. “Not that I think you’d tell me if you were, but I figure I have to ask, just to let you know I’m thinking you might be.”
Dodger gave her a puzzled look. “Saint Dane? You mean like the dog? Or is that Saint Bernard? Or Great Dane? I’m more confused now than a second ago.”
Courtney didn’t know what to do. Confide in Dodger? Blow him off? Run away and never look back? She knew she needed to make a decision, but couldn’t.
A second later the decision was made for her.
‘You’re telling me you have no idea what this is all about?” she asked.
“Not a clue,” Dodger said.
“Then here’s your first,” Courtney said, lifting up her hand. It was the hand with her ring. The stone was glowing again. Dodger’s eyes grew wide, “What the-” Bobby’s next journal was about to arrive.
IBARA
I hope you’re reading this, Courtney.
