The Tree, Page 9

  Erik shuddered. So, nothing like what had attacked Matthias and himself in shape, though they were made of similar material.

  “Did you ever figure out what that thing was?” Erik asked, turning to Matthias.

  “No. I asked everyone I could think of and no one had even heard of anything like it.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. Gram? Any ideas?” Erik asked.

  Hettie hummed and sifted the mess of glass on the table with her fingers and hummed.

  “Whatever I pulled from its body wasn’t water. At least, not only water; there was enough in it for me to affect it, but I’m lucky my body filters out the poisons. Otherwise . . .” Hettie trailed off and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Can you be anymore specific than just poisons?” Erik asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is there anyway to tell if it was a natural or artificial poison?” Erik asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Hettie shook her head. “My body doesn’t work that way. Mami Wata’s blessing protects me from poison, and from pollution alike . . . but as for what it was?” She shrugged.

  Matthias turned to face Erik fully.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing yet.” Erik only had suspicions, and he didn’t want to say anything until it was more than just a hunch in his belly.

  “Well, can I get some of that?” Matthias asked already reaching into one of his numerous pockets for a small plastic baggie.

  “Why?” Dayida asked, even as she moved aside and gestured for him to take what he wanted from the pile on the kitchen counter.

  “I have some friends whose interests lie at the intersection of magic and science. I think analyzing this would be something that they would be interested in and it might give us some answers.”

  “Answers would be good,” Erik stated.

  “We do have one answer at least. We now know one manifestation of your mother’s power,” Hettie said.

  Erik looked up in shock. “We do?”

  Hettie nodded, a small smile on her face. “She can manifest metal and form it into weapons.”

  They all turned to look at Dayida who was looking back at them blankly. Her fingers were tangled together on the table as she wove them together and apart over and over.

  “It wasn’t horrible,” she finally said.

  Erik turned and met both Matthias’s and his grandmother’s gazes. This was the closest his mother had come to accepting her powers. He changed the subject back to the creature before anyone could push her farther.

  “Who do we call, though? This could be one of the Agency’s experiments, or one of the Organization’s millions of secrets, or an attack from Zebub. We can’t really trust any of them, and if they were the ones behind it, do we really want them to know we survived?”

  No one had an answer for that.

  “Tell them both,” Hettie said. “If they knew to attack us, they’ll probably have someone watching to see if we survived. They both need to know, so they can protect their own people. But don’t give any more details than necessary. And let them both know you’re telling the other group. If either one of them is behind it, that will keep them on edge and make them cautious.”

  “Good idea.” Erik nodded. “I’ll have Patrah tell the Organization and I’ll call and alert the Agency after the meeting. Which, speaking of . . .” He glanced at the clock on the wall then looked back at his Mom and Gram, at the rips in their clothing and the mysterious stains. They looked down at themselves.

  “We’ll go change and then we’ll all go together,” Hettie said.

  Erik nodded as his Mom and Gram headed in different directions without looking at each other. Erik sighed and looked over at Matthias, who shrugged.

  “It’s better than I thought it would be.”

  “I know. I just—” Erik stopped. He didn’t want to get into it, but he did feel the longing for a family of some kind. He had always been fine with the father that became hostile and the mother who was absent. But he was starting to realize he had always longed for more.

  Matthias stared at him for a moment then reached forward and placed his hand on Erik’s shoulder. Erik did not shrug him off, but pressed into it instead, taking the comfort he’d denied himself. Matthias opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it closed as Hettie re-entered the room—a vision in a white shirt, headwrap, and jeans. Matthias removed his hand, though she stared at them both in silence until Dayida returned. When she returned she took them all in for a second before speaking.

  “Are we ready to go?”

  Erik simply nodded and led the way, not bothering to check on them. They piled into the Mini Cooper, Erik sharing the smaller backseat with his mother while Matthias drove and Hettie watched them all in the mirrors. No one spoke. Erik allowed himself to sink into the feeling of speed as they careened through the streets in a cocoon of quiet.

  MELINDA

  Patrah was making her practice before they left for the meeting. Melinda was asleep on the floor of her living room, with Patrah snoring softly beside her. At the same time, they were both standing in the room, their forms invisible and intangible except to another dreamer.

  When she didn’t think about it, the whole thing became natural. The dreaming that overlaid her living room was a swath of dark blue. Melinda held the image in place and slowly reached out with one hand and let her fingers sink into the blue.

  “Good,” Patrah said quickly.

  Melinda pulled her hand free, staring at the thin threads of blue that clung to her fingers. She could not feel it in the traditional sense. It didn’t feel cold or wet, but it did drip like water.

  “Now, picture what you want it to become. You’ve done this before.”

  Melinda nodded and slowly forced the dreamstuff to bend to her thoughts. It dripped from her fist and formed the base first, then the round platform it rested on, and then a pole rising up, and at the top a bowl lined with buildings and streets. There were intricate details; small streetlamps dotted corners and lit up intermittently. Small figures could be seen walking down navy streets and peeking out from behind cerulean curtains. Cars moved down the minuscule streets and there was a slight noise in the air: conversations that were too quiet and high-pitched to overhear.

  “That’s great. You’ve got movement and sound working,” Patrah said.

  Melinda looked up and smiled at Patrah who had conjured a small rose into her fist, the petals fluttering in an imaginary wind. Her Mom watched from the other end of the room, hands clasped in her lap, smile lighting up her face. Her Meema had declined to watch, saying it gave her too much anxiety, but then Meema didn’t have awakened Blooded in her immediate family, unlike Mom, who had grown up with sisters and parents all calling on their powers in front of her.

  Of course, Mom couldn’t actually see into the dreaming, so she had no idea what they were doing right now, but the love that radiated off of her made Melinda smile wider. Patrah spoke and drew her attention back.

  “Now let’s see if you can bring it out of the dreaming. Remember what I said?”

  Despite Melinda’s nod, Patrah went over it again.

  “I want you to keep the image of that in your mind. It is part of you. Part that should come back from the dreaming, just as your body does.”

  Melinda nodded again and when Patrah said nothing else she spoke up.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Melinda held back a sigh. “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll go first. With my rose.”

  Melinda watched as the form of Patrah slowly broke apart. Wisps of her moved through the air, rose, and broke apart. Instead of the blue dreamstuff returning to the space around them it flowed with the rest of her into Petrah’s prone form. Patrah woke, and sat up. The rose glowed in her hand, translucent. Sunlight shone through the blue petals and cast shadows in every shade of blue across the room. As Melinda watched from the dreaming it began to fall apart, unable to ex
ist in the waking world for long.

  Melinda started to do the same, using the breathing exercises Patrah had taught her. She felt herself in two places; the dreaming and lying on her living room floor. She concentrated on the second sensation; the rug under her neck and the one braid that was under her body and pulled uncomfortably. She slowly let go of the dreaming until it was paper-thin and she could barely feel that tug of it.

  Her body was more and more real and she could feel every part of it. She could feel the model, too. It was coming through fine, forming to her right. Then, at the last minute before waking, she felt it ripped from her hands and mind. It didn’t feel taken from her. Rather, it was as if she had run into a barrier that would not let the model through.

  She sat up with a gasp and her Mom burst into applause simply for the fact that she woke up. Melinda felt nothing but disappointment. She had had it, but it had just slipped away like nothing.

  “What went wrong?” Patrah asked.

  Her Mom stopped clapping.

  “I don’t know. I had it but at the last minute it was just gone.”

  Patrah looked confused. “Do you want to try again?”

  Melinda nodded determinedly. She looked to her Mom who smiled at her encouragingly.

  They lay back down and went through it all again; the breathing, the waking in the dreaming, the conjuration and creation, and then the waking.

  The results were exactly the same as the first.

  By the third time the hesitation on Patrah’s face and in her voice was sounding like disappointment to Melinda. Melinda felt frustration well up inside. She could do this. She knew she could. So why was she finding it so hard?

  She nodded at Patrah’s instructions again but did not listen to a single word. Patrah’s way was not working. If she was going to make this happen she had to do it her own way. Once they were in the dreaming and she had her model created again she slowed down her breathing again but instead of feeling for her body she felt for the model. It was right beside her.

  Then she felt around it. Unlike the other things she had made in the dreaming this model felt heavy and weighted. It felt like something real. Instead of waking herself up she concentrated on the model, imagined the way the cool metal would feel under her fingers, the way it would dent the rug as it rested there. The way that the summer sun would heat it up. The lights working and the people moving and everything that made it a city.

  She did her best to align the model she could see in the dreaming with the one she was imagining. She thought of them as one; one thing in two spaces that needed to be one again.

  With a large pop that Melinda felt rather than heard, everything changed.

  The model wasn’t in the dreaming anymore. She looked at the model resting on the floor and her slumped body next to it. As soon as she laid her eyes on her body she felt the tug to rejoin it, to become whole. It was strong but not overwhelming. Then Patrah’s form next to her awoke with a shout. Melinda lost her concentration and was swept back into her body. As her eyes fluttered open, though, she saw the model. It was still there.

  “What did you do?” Patrah was staring at the model that now sat in the middle of her living room. It was not blue or translucent. Instead the base, pole, and bowl were a shining silver with dimples and whorls as if echos of the human fingers who had sculpted it. The city that sat in the bowl was a kaleidoscope of color—blacks and blues and greens and yellows and reds.

  It looked like a real city.

  That’s when she noticed the movement. The cars. The people. They had come through too and they were moving to and fro as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  “It just felt like the right thing to do,” Melinda whispered.

  Patrah was just staring at the model as the lights twinkled and the tiny people went about their lives. Mom had moved from the couch and was kneeling by Patrah, while Meema was standing in the doorway, some sense calling her in from the other room.

  “Patrah, what is it?” Her Mom asked.

  Patrah turned to look at Mom with wide eyes. “Elise . . . she didn’t just bring something from the dreaming into the real. She turned dreamstuff into reality. That’s. . . .”

  “Unusual?” Her Mom supplied.

  “I would have said impossible. She created something. Not building or alteration or even destruction but actual creation from the ether of the world.” Patrah stopped and turned to look at Melinda, who had been growing more and more nervous as the conversation went on.

  “Did I do something wrong?” She tried to make her voice steady but it shook in any case.

  “No, honey, no.” Her Mom was across the floor in a second, pulling her into a warm embrace. The scent of lavender and lilac surrounded her: her Mom’s favorite scent. She felt her body relaxing. “Right. Patrah?”

  Patrah finally looked away from the model and back at Melinda, taking in her frown and nervous expression.

  “No. Of course not, Melinda. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just surprised.”

  There was something in her voice that let Melinda know Patrah wasn’t sure of what she was saying, but Melinda nodded anyway. Patrah had already turned back to the model, her eyes now tracking one of the small humans that inhabited the city.

  “We need to go to the meeting. Elise. Jeni. I need you two to do something for me.”

  Her Meema moved further into the room over to where Melinda was still wrapped in her Mom’s arms. Meema placed her palm on Mom’s shoulder and met Patrah’s gaze.

  “What do you need?” Meema asked.

  “Move this somewhere out of sight, but be careful. As far as we know right now, those little humans are living, breathing people.”

  Melinda felt her Mom’s breath catch from where they were pressed against each other.

  “We can do that. We’ll be careful. How about the garage? We only use it for storage and there are no windows to the outside,” Meema suggested.

  Patrah nodded. “That sounds good. Don’t tell anyone about this. No one at all.”

  Mom spoke up. “Who would we tell?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s important that no one knows about this until we figure out what it really is and what it means.”

  Melinda did not like the feeling gnawing into her belly. They all said it was okay. That she had done nothing wrong. But they were all acting the other way. She knew they weren’t lying, exactly. But there were things that they weren’t saying out loud. Melinda was young but she wasn’t dumb. She knew that adults often hid things. There was only one adult she trusted to tell her the truth.

  She was going to talk to Erik about this, no matter what Patrah said, but she nodded along with her mothers and hurried to put her shoes on so that they could make their way to the meeting.

  As they left the house her mothers stood in the doorway with their arms wrapped around one another, waving.

  They would go back to packing as soon as Patrah and Melinda were gone. The weeks at home had been nice but Patrah had to help with the Agency when Erik was gone and thought it would be easiest if they stayed at the headquarters. Her mothers had gone ahead and invited themselves, which Melinda was happy about. She didn’t know how Patrah felt about it, but she’d agreed to it.

  As Patrah drove down the street Melinda looked out of the window as they crossed a street and moved from fog to bright sunshine. She hoped it was a good sign.

  ERIK

  They found parking right in front of the building, like always.

  The lobby had been returned to its immaculate gold-and-white splendor since the slaughter. It looked the same as the first time Erik had walked in, except for the garden, which had been completely uprooted at his request. He had watched as those beautiful, mutant trees had been dug up and burned.

  Where the garden had been there was now more white marble flooring, brighter and newer than the rest of the floor.

  Only a few feet inside the door Melinda was standing with Patrah, Daya, and Elana. The three women were
talking while the girl was fiddling with her phone until she looked up and caught sight of him.

  “Erik!” She ran to him. He knelt down to meet her and wrap her in a hug. Melinda pressed her cheek against his and she spoke in his ear, softer than a whisper, so the sound was almost just breath.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  Erik squeezed her tighter to show that he heard her.

  “Hey sweetie, how are you doing?” He asked.

  Melinda pulled back and smiled. “I’m okay. I miss you though.”

  “I know.” Erik frowned. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. There’s a lot to get done.”

  Melinda nodded. “I know.”

  “How about after the meeting I take you out for ice cream or something. Just you and me?” Erik looked up at Patrah for approval and saw no suspicion as she nodded.

  “That sounds great.” Melinda lunged and hugged him around the neck again.

  “Where are you going to be during the meeting?” Erik asked. He would share anything with Melinda that she wanted to know, but being in the meeting itself might be too overwhelming. He distantly remembered meetings from his youth, where all the adults talked over him and ignored his contributions. Erik would never do that, but some of the others? It was better that she have something else to entertain her.

  “I asked Zaha to spend the time with her,” Patrah answered.

  Erik’s gaze followed her head tilt to the front counter where Zaha sat behind the desk. Tae was leaning over it to speak with her. He watched them for a moment, noting the small smiles on both of their faces.

  Erik shook himself and looked back to Patrah.

  “Good. There’s some stuff we’re gonna share in the meeting that I need you to report to the Organization afterwards, while I take Melinda out.”

  She looked at him curiously but simply nodded. He turned to Elana who was smiling softly.

  “How are you doing, Elana?”

  “As well as can be expected,” she answered, the smile dropping.

  She looked away, most likely thinking about her remains, and the betrayal of the Organization not telling her.