Funny, Marco said coldly, I was about to ask you the same question.
Then he strode into the conference room, slamming the glass door behind him with
enough force to cause the entire room to shudder.
Oh, my dear, Mrs. Klopper cried, as she tried to pull me up from the couch. Did he
hurt you?
Im fine, I said quickly. I couldnt hearlet alone seewhat was happening in the
conference room with her hovering over me. Leaning over so I could look past Mrs.
Kloppers broad shoulder, I could see Mr. Morton trying to speak calmly to a very
agitated Marco. Mrs. Wagner had stopped crying, and she, too, was saying something to
Marcosomething Marco didnt look too happy to hear. He kept glancing at Will, who
appeared to be experiencing a number of conflicting emotions, if his expression was any
indicationrage; disbelief; and, finally, impatience, apparently for something Marco said.
Something Mrs. Klopper and I heard only too clearly, because Marco shouted it loudly
enough to be heard even through the thick glass walls: I dont believe it!
It was right then that the cops came bursting into the guidance office, and Mrs. Klopper,
still hovering over me protectively, cried, pointing a shaking finger at Marco, There he
is! He attacked this poor girl! Hes violating the terms of his probation by even being on
school grounds!
One of the cops, to my horror, reached for his nightstick. He said to his partner, I know
this kid. Call for backup.
The partner reached for his walkie-talkie, while the first cop laid a hand on the
conference room door and pulled it open.
And when he did, Marcos voicehis back to us, he was oblivious to the entry of the
copscould be heard, loud and clear, shouting, Youre not his mother! Tell him! Tell him
its a lie!
To which Mrs. Wagner, her hands clenched to her chest, murmured, I cant, sweetheart,
because its true. Im so sorry. But it really is true.
Which is when the cop said, I hate to break things up here, people, but we got a
complaint
He never got to finish. Because Marco, wheeling around and realizing, at last, that he
was in trouble, made a lunge that would have caused high-jumper Stacy to turn green
with envy, propelling himself over the conference room table until he stood in front of the
rooms single window
through which he hefted one of the conference room chairs, shattering the glass into a
million pieces.
Then he leaped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
For ere she reachd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Turn here, I said to the police officer who was driving me home.
He made the turn down the long driveway to the house we were renting, the headlights
from his squad car startling a deer that had been grazing at the edge of the road. Although
it was still late afternoon, massive gray clouds had rolled in from the bay, blocking out
the sun, moving as fast as smoke caught in a breeze. What Id mistaken for the rumble of
rifle fire turned out to be thunder, not practice down at the gunnery.
There was a storm brewing.
The lights are all out, Officer Jenkins observed, as the house loomed into view. Your
parents arent home?
No, I said. The wind was beginning to gust, tossing the branches of the trees. They
went into D.C. for dinner.
Want me to walk you inside? Officer Jenkins asked.
No, I said. Really. Its okay. Im all right.
It seemed like Id been assuring everyone of this all afternoonfrom the time the cops
had arrived, to the time theyd finally finished taking my statement and agreed to let me
right up until I realized I had no way home, and was forced to beg for a ride. With
go
Mrs. Wagner having completely lost it, forcing a chivalrous Mr. Morton to offer to drive
her home, and Will having taken off after Marco via the very same window hed escaped
through, Mrs. Klopper and I had been the only ones left to describe what had happened
And we could barely believe it ourselves.
Well, I dont like to gossip about students, Mrs. Klopper had said to Officer Jenkins,
after Mrs. Wagner had been carefully led away by Mr. Morton, and the two of us were
asked to make statements concerning the incident. But since you ask, it appearsunless
Im mistakenthat Will Wagners stepmother is actually his real mother
nor hiswell, I guess hes his half brother, Marcoknew it until today.
When the police officer had looked questioningly at me, I had just shrugged and said,
Yeah. I mean
What I couldnt understand, of course, was why Mr. Morton had done it. Why had he
come back? Had it really been because of what hed saidmy guilting him into it with
my speech about how Will would never have left him inhis hour of need?
But how on earth was Mr. Mortons getting Mrs. Wagner to admit that she was, in truth,
Wills real mother, and not just his stepmother as hed been led to believe, supposed to
have helped?
Well, grab a flashlight as soon as you get inside, Officer Jenkins said, so you dont
have to look for one in the dark if we lose power. The electricity goes out a lot this side of
the Severn during big storms.
Thanks, I said to the police officer.
And dont worry about Campbell, he said, in his big, reassuring voice. I doubt hell
show up here.
I thanked him again, not mentioning that Marco Campbell showing up at my house was
thelast thing I was worried about.
Then I got out of the squad car and ran to the front porch, fumbling in my bag for my
key. Officer Jenkins waited until Id found it and opened the door before he pulled away,
leaving me alone with the big dark house and the approaching storm and the forces of
good and evil battling it out over the fate of a long-dead king.
Right.
I let myself into the house, flicking on lights as I made my way to the laundry room,
where the professor who owned the house had left a plastic bin markedEMER -GENCY. I
pulled back the lid and grabbed the flashlight and handful of candles I found there. Then I
brought them all into the kitchen and turned on the television.
The local news was issuing a thunderstorm warning for all of Anne Arundel County.
Theyd already had reports of dangerous lightning and high winds, coupled with
torrential rain and some hail.
Great.
There was a note on the refrigerator. It said,Hi, honey. Leftover ribs in the fridge. Just
and neither he
thats what I gathered, as well.
heat them up in the microwave. Well be home by eleven. Call if you need anything.
Mom.
I opened the fridge and looked at the ribs. But I wasnt really seeing them. Instead, I was
seeing the rage on Marcos face when his mother had made her gut-wrenching
confession. I was seeing Will, as hed followed Marco out that window, causing my heart
to leap into my throat.
And, okay, it had turned out to have been a first-floor window. And when wed all rushed
to it, wed seen both boys sprinting for the student parking lot, Marco first, with Will in
hot pursuit, clearly none the worse for the stunt.
But Id happened to glance at Mr. Morton at that moment, and Id seen the fear on his
face. Crazy or not, Mr. Morton was afraid for Will.
And his fear was catching.
I closed the refrigerator door. This was stupid. I couldnt just stay here and do nothing
while I knew Will was out there somewhere, trying to deal with a guy who was clearly
off his rocker with fury over his mothers unfaithfulness to his father.
I took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
Here goes nothing, I said to Tig, who was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor,
washing herself.
And I dialed Wills cell number.
A recorded voice told me all circuits were busy.
I flinched and hung up. Well, so much for that.
I opened the refrigerator and took out the ribs. I wasnt hungry, but I had to do
something, or I was sure Id lose my mind. I popped them into the microwavethen
jumped, as outside the window over the kitchen sink, a brilliant flash of lightning lit the
yard.
The power flickered off, then back on again. Tig, startled, quit washing herself.
I counted, like the kid inPoltergeist. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one
thousand.
Thunder crashed, sounding nothing like distant gunfire now
from a fighter jet as it broke the sound barrier. Tig streaked from the room like a stone
from a slingshot, headed for parts of the house unknown.
more like a sonic boom
The storm was three miles away.
I tried Wills cell again. All circuits still busy.
I put the phone down, thinking maybe our lines were crossed. He might, for all I knew,
be trying to call me, right at that very moment. After what had happened today, youd
think hed want to talk to somebodysomebody to whom he wasnt related. I was kind of
surprised, in fact, that he hadnt called already.
But there were no messages on the answering machine.
Then again, maybe hed turned to Lance or Jennifer instead of me. After all, theyd
known him a lot longer than I had. It made sense hed call one of them before me
A part of me will always love him, Jennifer had said in the ladies room. Maybe he was
on the phone with her right now, and theyd had a chance to talk things out, and now they
were back together. Maybe they
I shook my head, wondering what was wrong with me. I was losing it. I really was.
I sat down in front of the TV with the leftover ribs and a tub of potato salad, and
atewithout tasting anythingas the newscasters read off all the events that were being
canceled or closed in light of the approaching storm: high school football games; various
lacrosse tournaments; the county fairgrounds; a regatta.
A reporter in Baltimore, where the stormwhich had apparently appeared from
nowherehad already hit, stood beside a car that had been flattened by a tree felled by
lightning and warned about the dangers of driving during inclement weather.
Another reporter came on to say that the Beltwaywhere my parents would be driving
home later that nighthad been shut down due to a severed power line that had electrified
the guardrail.
Another reporter started talking about how this unexpected squall was the storm of the
decade, then showed footage of raging floodwaters that washed an SUV right off the road
and into a ditch, trapping a family of four inside
Suddenly, I wasnt blaming Mr. Morton so much anymore for wanting to go to Tahiti.
Which was just silly, of course. It wasnt the powers of darkness causing this storm. The
meteorologist came on and talked about noreasters and cold fronts meeting warm fronts
and storm surge and riptides.
Then, just as he was about to advise us what to do in the event of a power failure, a
brighter bolt of lightning than any of the ones before lit up the sky outside.
.
But it didnt turn the sky white, the way lightning usually does. Instead, just for an
instantso briefly that afterwards, Id thought Id dreamed itthe sky turned a deep
bloodred before turning dark gray again.
Then all the lights went off.
The TV died. The air-conditioning churned to a halt. The digital clocks on the stove and
microwave went black. The refrigerator stopped humming. There was complete total
silence
.
Until a terrific blast of thunder ripped through the sky, causing the glasses in the china
cabinet to rattle.
Then the phone rang.
And I screamed.
I was being ridiculous, of course. It was just the phone. Of course the phone would still
work in a power failurethe ones that werent cordless, anyway.
Still, my heart seemed to be rattling as loudly as the glasses had, and my fingers shook as
I reached out to grab the receiver.
H-hello? I said.
Ellie? It was my moms voice, as comforting as a favorite blanket. Just hearing it
slowed down my pulse. We just heard Anne Arundels supposed to get the worst of this
storm. Are you all right, honey?
The lights went out, I said, trying not to sound as scared as I felt.
Yes, my mom said. I guess that happens a lot. Look in the phone book and call the
power company, just to make sure its the whole district, and not only us. Then sit tight.
Daddy and I canceled our dinner, and were on our way home.
No, youre not, I said, in a tight voice. Theyve shut down the Beltway. A downed
power line has electrified the guardrails.
I heard my mother convey this information to my dad. I heard my dad swear. Then Mom
said to me, Well, listen, honey
I reached for the one on the counter. I didnt quite need it yetthere was still enough light
from outside to see by. But I said, Yes.
Good. Find a good book to read, and well be there as soon as we can.
you got a flashlight?
Will do, I said. Bye, Mom.
Outside, lightning flashed again. I hung up and ran toward the window, craning my neck
to see whether or not the sky was going to turn the same bloodred again.
It didnt. It did turn a really pretty purple, though.
I picked up the phone. This time I dialed Wills house. Busy.
Then I remembered I was supposed to call the power company, so I hauled out the phone
book and found the number.
Then I entertained myself for a good five minutes listening to my optionspress one to
report lights that were flickering; two, if I smelled anything burning; three, if I was
experiencing partial loss of power; and finally four, which I hit, to report a total loss of
power.
The recorded voice told me they were aware of the problem and that crews had already
been dispatched. I was glad I didnt work for the power company. I would have hated
being dispatched in this weather.
Then, just as I was contemplating turning on the flashlight and starting my trig
homework, the phone rang again. This time when I answered it, I didnt recognize the
voice on the other end.
Hello? It was a woman speaking. Is, er, Ellie Harrison there?
This is she, I said, using the polite phone manners my mother had drilled into me.
Oh, Ellie, hello, the woman said, sounding relieved. This is Jean Wagner. Wills, er,
stepmom.
Suddenly I was clutching the phone very hard.
Still, I tried to remain calm. Hello, Mrs. Wagner. I
today at school.
So am I, Mrs. Wagner said. You cant imagine how much. Thats why Im calling,
actually. I was wondering if by any chance Will was with you?
By now I was clutching the receiver so hard, I thought I might break it in half with the
force of my grip.
No, I said, feeling as if my heart might suddenly leap from my chest, it was drumming
so hard. I was hoping you might have heard from him.
Im sorry. About what happened
Not sinceMrs. Wagner coughedwhat happened at the school. I was hopingI dont
know where either of them has disappeared to, and I wouldnt have bothered you except
that I know Wills been spending time at your house lately, and I was hoping he might be
there
As Mrs. Wagner had been speaking, Id crossed the room to the sliding glass door that
led to the deck. I hadnt looked out at the pool since Id gotten home, Id been so wrapped
up in the approaching storm.
Now I twitched the curtain back, telling myself that it was all going to be all right. Id
see Will down there, sitting on Spider Rock. Id pull back the sliding glass door and yell,
Hey, you big goof. Dont just sit there. Cant you see its going to rain? Come inside.
Only he wasnt there, of course. As I watched, my favorite raft was actually lifted up out
of the water and thrown into the bushes by a powerful blast of wind. The water churned
even though the filter wasnt working, thanks to the power outage. It looked like a giant
witchs cauldron, set to boil.
I quickly moved the curtain back into place.
or that you might have some idea where he could be, Mrs. Wagner was saying. We
checked the marina already, and hes not there
kind of weather. Ive talked to his friend Lance and to little Jenny Gold, and neither of
them have heard from him. I heard barking through the phone line, then Mrs. Wagners
voice saying, Cavalier! Cavalier, be quiet!
A second later, she said to me, Im sorry. Wills dog
her. Shes normally so well-mannered. The storm seems to be upsetting her. The thing is,
Well, Im afraid Will might be in some
Marco
Danger? The hand clutching the phone had started to sweat now. I could barely hang
on to the receiver, it was so wet. What kind of danger, Mrs. Wagner?
Not the powers of darkness, I prayed. Please dont say powers of darkness. Had Mr.
Morton gotten to her, too?
Her voice broke.
Oh, she said. Oh, dear, Im sorry. I dont mean toI swore I wouldnt cry. Its Marco,
you see. She was weeping openly now, while Cavalier barked steadily in the
background. Arthurmy husbandsays not to worry, but I dont see how I cant
gun case was broken into, you see. Arthurs gun case. And one of his pistols is missing. I
think Marco might have taken it. I think Marco might be planning on doing something
But I never got to hear what Mrs. Wagner thought Marco might be planning. Thats
because there was another bright white flash of lightning, and the receiver let out a
not that he would take the boat out in this
I dont know whats gotten into
well, some danger.
staticky shriek and seemed to spark in my ear. I dropped it with a yelp, and when I
stooped to pick it up again, the line was dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over towerd Camelot
Not that it mattered. About the phone dying in the middle of Mrs. Wagners sentence. I
didnt need to hear the rest. I knew what she was going to say.
Just like I knew what I had to do.
Because I knew where Will had gone. If he wasnt home or on his boat, and he wasnt
with Lance or Jennifer or me
Well, there was only one place he could be.
The trouble was, I had no car to get me there. The rain hadnt started yet, but the sky was
getting darker every second. In seconds, not minutes, the clouds would burst.
And the lightning hadnt quit. If anything, the bolts were growing more frequent.
Thunder was an almost constant rumble now.
Flash. One one thousand. Boom.
The storm was only a mile away.
But so what? I thought to myself, as I threw on my running shoes. Youre not sugar,
Harrison. You wont melt.
Admiral Wagners gun case had been broken into.
The park was two miles away. I run two miles every daymore, most days. Okay, not
along open road, after a meal, and in the middle of a record-breaking thunderstorm.
But what else was I supposed to do?
I reached for the first coat by the doora waterproof windbreaker of my dads. It even
had a hood. Perfect.
A gun. Hes got a gun.
.
I was halfway out the door when it happened again. This time I saw the bolt streaking
across the sky like a crack in a giant celestial plate. It was so close, I thought it hit our
neighbors house.
And then, just like before, the sky turned a deep bloodred. Only for as long as it took me
to blink at the sudden change of light.
Then the sky was a leaden gray once more.
Its just lightning, I told myself. Not the forces of evil conspiring against you.
Still, my voice shook as I said it. What were the chances of Marco going after Will in
weather like this? Surely he, too, would think twice about going out in the middle of a
raging noreaster.
Then I remembered the gun. If Marco was crazy enough to steal one of his stepfathers
guns, he wasnt going to let a little thing like the storm of the decade bother him.
Great.
Well, there was nothing I could do about the weather. But the gun. Marcos gun
Revolvers and nightsticks are useless against the wrath of the dark side, Mr. Morton had
said.
And suddenly Id turned away from the front door and was pounding up the stairs to the
second floor.
Dont let him have taken it with him, I breathed, hurrying down the hall toward my
dads office. Dont let him have taken it with him
He hadnt. It was lying there where hed left it, tossed as casually across his desk as a
pen. I wrapped my hand around the hilt and lifted it. It was much heavier than I
remembered.
But there was nothing I could do about that now.
I wrapped it in my dads windbreaker. I vaguely remembered reading somewhere that
you arent supposed to get swords wet. Although that might have been the string of a
bowthe kind you shoot arrows with. But I couldnt run down the street holding a sword,
anyway. What would the neighbors say? Our Image would be totally blown.
Cradling the windbreaker-swaddled sword in my arms, I hurried back down the stairs. I
couldnt even say what I planned on doing with my dads sword. I mean, was I really
going to use it to threaten Marco? A swordespecially a rusty, useless one from the
Middle Agesagainst a gun? Yeah. Thatll work. Hell probably surrender the minute he
sees it.
Not.
But I had to do something.
And I guessif you wanted to believe that the noreaster tearing through Annapolis at that
moment was the work of the dark side, and not, as the meteorologist had said, a collision
of two weather frontsmy bringing the sword along was upsetting somebody upstairs,
since no sooner had I stepped through the door with it than the sky was torn in two by the
closest lightning strike yet
It was so close, in fact, that for a second I thought it had hit me, because the hair on the
back of my neck had risen. I shrieked, not daring to look to see what color the sky was
turning above me. I couldnt look. I was too busy running. I ran straight down our
driveway, then onto our street, my legs seeming to propel me forward without my even
consciously telling them to.
Clutching the sword to my chest, I pounded along the paved road, already breathing
hard. Id thought running through the humidity of a Maryland August was bad. That was
nothing, it turned out, compared to running through the electrically charged air of a
noreaster with a medieval sword in my arms.
When I got to the main road, I was shocked by what I saw. Branches had already been
knocked down by the wind, and they dotted the road like track hurdles
leaves that were still attached to them were turned defensively upside down and gleamed
a pale gray in what little light the thick black clouds overhead were letting through.
I took a deep breath and, never faltering in my stride, began running around the
obstacles, hideously conscious of the fact that I was on a road not meant for pedestrian
traffic. There was no sidewalk or bike path. I was running along open highway, dodging
fallen tree branches, holding a big sword, and praying that if a car came along, it would
see me in time and swerve.
No such luck. A car did come along.
But it was going at such a high rate of speed, there was no way the drivera harried
soccer mom, anxious to pick up her kids before the rain hit and soaked themcould turn
in time to avoid hitting me. She came barreling right at me, only seeing me at the last
possible minute, which is when she hit the horn and stomped on the brakes at the same
time
.
Evil wont stand for any interference from the Light. It will throw insurmountable
obstacles in our pathdeadly obstacles.
and I leaped off the road, as fleetly as that deer Id seen at the edge of our driveway,
.
or snakes. The
and began tearing through peoples lawns instead of sticking to the road.
This proved to be a lot more convenient than dodging swerving SUVs and fallen trees.
Plus the grass was gentler on my shin splints than the asphalt
The powers of darknessif they existeddidnt seem to like that any more than theyd
liked me bringing along the sword. Either that, or it was simply time for the heavens to
open. Because it was right about then that they did just that, unleashing a sudden curtain
of hard, stinging rain, that soaked through my T-shirt and shorts in an instant and
flattened my hair to the back of my neck.
I kept running, clutching the sword even more tightly to my chest, trying to ignore the
fact that the rain was coming down so fast, I could barely see two feet in front of me, and
was turning the grass beneath my feet into a river of mud. I had to be, I told myself, close
to the Wawa by now. And the Wawa was halfway to the park. Just one more mile. Just
one more mile to go.
And they had nothing more to throw at me. Lightning hadnt stopped me. Oncoming
traffic hadnt stopped me. Rain hadnt stopped me.
Fear hadnt stopped me.
Nothing could stop me. I was going to get there. I was going to
Thats when the hail started.
At first I thought Id kicked up a rock from beneath my foot. Then another one hit me.
Then another. Soon ice pellets were bouncing off my head and shoulders, my thighs and
calves.
But I kept going. I lifted the swordsafe from the hail in my dads windbreakerover my
head, using it as a sort of shield against the worst of the hail. And I started dodging
beneath trees as I ran, even though the meteorologist on the news had said that was the
worst place to be during a storm.
And it was probably even worse to be under a tree while carrying a long metal object
But I didnt care. I wasnt district champback home, anywayin the womens two
hundred meter for nothing. I was too fast for themtoo fast for the lightning that ripped
through the sky, turning it a sickly teal green this time, instead of bloodred. Too fast for
the deafening clap of thunder that followed it less than a second later. Too fast for the
rain. Too fast for cars. Too fast for hail
The storm was right above my head.
And it was furious.
.
The hail turned back to rain, but it still came down in torrents. I was so wet by then, I
didnt even care. Especially when, through the thick gray curtain of it, the sign
welcoming me to Anne Arundel ParkPLEASE,NO LITTERING appeared.