Keeper of the Black Stones (16 page)

Paul sobered then, and sat down on my bed. “You said in the shed that you knew what the symbols meant. Did they … speak to you?”

I shook my head. “They didn't talk to me, not like you and I are talking. But they showed me something.” I shrugged awkwardly, unable to explain.

Paul grunted. “And are you going to tell me, or are you hoping I'll just guess and save you the trouble?”

I closed my eyes, reliving the images I'd seen and heard through the stone. “I saw a medieval town, like something you'd see in a movie, and I heard … yelling. Swords clashing. Horses running. I could swear I'd been hearing a battle. When it was over, I saw the date in my mind, just as clearly as if it were on my computer screen.” I turned to stare at the screen in question, wondering.

“What was it?” Paul asked.

“What?” I asked, dazed at the strength of the memory.

“The date, smarty, what was the date?”

I looked away from the monitor and back at Paul. “August 18, 1485,” I replied. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and the words hung in the air, unanswered.

“I also saw a list of numbers, but I'm not sure what they mean,” I added, after a moment of silence. I found a pencil and wrote the numbers on a piece of scratch paper.

“37 23.516–122 02.625,” Paul read.

“Does that make sense to you?” I asked.

Paul smiled. “You, my friend, obviously didn't pay attention to the movie the other night,” he replied.

“What are you talking about?”

“
Close Encounters
…
remember the movie? Remember the scene when they discovered that numbers were being transmitted from space? They grabbed the big globe and figured out that they were receiving coordinates–longitude and latitude. Map coordinates from space,” he concluded with a wide grin.

I snorted. “Paul, I think your obsession with movies may finally have paid off.” I typed “map coordinates” into my computer, and searched the numbers imprinted on my mind. Paul got up and walked over to stand behind me. A couple of seconds later, Google maps gave me the answer.

“What the…” Paul said. He leaned over my shoulder and read the name of the town on the computer screen. “Abergavenny, England. Those are real coordinates? Where the hell is that?” He returned to the bed and sat heavily. “This just got a lot scarier.”

“Tell me about it.” I turned away from the monitor and looked at Paul. “This confirms it, though. Everything I read in that journal, everything Doc and Fleming talked about … it's all true.”

Paul closed his eyes and tried to take in what I'd just said. “So what do we do?”

I shook my head in response. “I have no idea. But I think we have to do it in a hurry. Doc leaves again in a few hours, and from what I've heard, he'll be lucky to make it back.”

Paul and I talked about the stone and its power for the rest of the night. More importantly, we talked about what we were going to do with the information we had. I didn't get more than thirty minutes of sleep, but when we emerged at 6:15, we had a plan.

Doc was already up and making breakfast when we walked into the kitchen. Reis was with him, drinking coffee and staring out the window.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Up and ready for school I see,” Doc said
cheerfully, looking up from the frying pan in front of him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really,” Paul replied quickly. He glanced at me as we slid into our chairs. I frowned back, unprepared to start any conversations.

“I'm sure a nice hot breakfast will fix you right up,” Doc answered. He served us each a plate of bacon and eggs, along with wheat toast and generous glasses of orange juice. Paul began shoving the food in his mouth, signifying his inability to talk, and I turned to my grandfather.

The plan was to get him talking, lead him into a conversation about time travel theories, and go from there. I was a physics student, which meant that I had regular access to things like Einstein and his theories of relativity and alternate realities. I hoped that I could sell Doc on having come across those theories of time, and being curious about them. If I could lead him far enough and show enough interest, he might open up and tell me about his own theories. He might even tell me about the stones, and the symbols I'd seen last night. It was a long shot, but if he opened up it might give me a chance to talk him out of going back again, and putting himself in danger. It had sounded good at 4:30 in the morning, and had been the only thing we could come up with. Now, I wasn't so sure.

Still, I'd kill myself if I didn't try.

I sighed and tried to prepare myself. I knew what I wanted, but I wasn't foolish enough to think it would be easy. “Actually, Doc, I'm not that hungry. I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

Doc looked up from his own plate of food. “Yes, Jason? You know I'm always available.”

I swallowed again. I wasn't sure he was actually going to be available for what I had in mind, but plunged in. “Well, I was thinking about something I read the other day. About time travel.” Doc put down his fork and looked at me with interest. So far, so good. “See, I was really interested in the stuff about wrinkles in time and all that. You know, time travel, and the idea that time exists in a different dimension. The idea that those wrinkles–black holes–could actually be holes in time. But how would that work, exactly, if
mankind wanted to use them? Could you
create
wrinkles, do you think, or
find
them? Wouldn't you need–”

“Some sort of magic machine or something?” Paul interrupted. “Like a secret, super-cool tool?”

My jaw dropped, and I froze. Paul interrupting had not been part of the plan. Especially with something so obvious, and damning. If Doc realized that we'd been in his shed, in his secret room, he'd ground me until I was forty. I glared at Paul, who winked at me as though he'd just made the most brilliant move ever, and glanced back at Doc. His face, which had welcomed my questions a moment ago, was now cold, hard, and closed. He raised his eyebrows and tipped his head back to look down his nose at me. As he did, my Doc–the man I'd grown up with–disappeared, and a stranger took his place.

“I'm sure I don't know, Jason. I haven't put much thought into it,” he said quietly. He stood up abruptly, knocking the table askew in his haste, and grabbed his unfinished plate of breakfast. “If you boys will excuse me, I just remembered that I have business to attend to. I'll finish my breakfast at my desk.”

I gasped and grabbed at his arm. He couldn't leave, not now. This definitely wasn't going the way I'd envisioned. “But Doc, I just wanted to talk to you about–”

Doc pulled his arm from my grasp and looked evenly at me. I thought I saw his face soften for a moment, then go back to its cold façade. “Jason, I appreciate that you want to know more about things like that, and I applaud your creative theories on the subject. But I don't have time to answer your questions right now. I'm sorry, son, but I'm busy, and I must be ready for a 7 o'clock appointment.”

I gulped. The stone's next window opened up at 7AM. I'd seen the time last night, in the symbols. He was still going. “But Doc–”

He interrupted again, this time nodding toward Reis. “Mr. Slayton, would you mind driving the boys to school today? I'm afraid I have plans, and if the boys wait any longer, they'll be late.”

Reis blinked at Doc in confusion, then nodded slowly. “Of course. We're all going to the same place, after all.” He frowned, then folded the paper in front of him and looked at me. “Are you boys ready?”

I glanced at Paul, then at Doc. “Actually, I–”

“Jason, I must insist,” Doc said, his voice hard and his hand on the door. “Now, I'll see you after school. Have a good day.” He didn't leave any room for discussion, but turned and walked briskly away, his back straight and angry.

I stared after his vanishing back, shocked. This definitely hadn't played out like I thought it would. And now he was on his way into the den, to await his jump back in time. And where did that leave me? What was my move now? What about my plan?

Before I could think any farther, though, Paul grabbed my arm and mumbled something about getting out while we could. He pushed me out the door and into the back of Reis' green Volvo. I climbed in, still stunned, and slumped down in the back seat.

“Are you with us?” Paul asked, turning from the front seat to stare at me.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” I lied. The truth was, I was far from okay. I was confused and alone, and growing more desperate by the moment. The ‘plan' that was supposed to open up a conversation with Doc had managed to do the exact opposite, and now I was on my way to school and he was waiting to jump back in time, where a war awaited him.

I looked from Paul up to the rear view mirror, to meet Reis Slayton's eyes. He held eye contact for a moment then glanced behind me to stare at the house. When he looked at me again, his eyes held a note of concern and suspicion.

I blinked slowly in agreement, then leaned my forehead against the cool, icy glass of the window. I was exhausted and worried, and couldn't think. The episode with the stone the night before had thrown me out of balance, and this thing with Doc wasn't helping. It wasn't like him to push me out of the house, or ignore my questions. If I could just pull myself together for a moment, think rationally…

The smell of grass was unmistakable, rich and heavy around me. I cracked one eye open and saw bright green landscape in every direction. The grass around me was long, up to my waist, and rolled like waves in the wind. I was standing atop a bluff, and could see for miles in every direction. I saw millions of flowers, in every color of a Crayon box, and gasped at the beauty of it. A shockingly cloudless blue sky floated overhead, and the air was so clean that it hurt to breathe. The landscape was vibrating with a low humming sound, which gave it a hazy, underwater feeling. I didn't know where I was, but I didn't think I was dreaming. I certainly wasn't in Kansas–or New Hampshire–anymore.

A low drumming sound drew my attention away from the landscape and toward my left. At least a dozen horses emerged from the tree line and galloped hard up the hill, directly toward me. Men sat high atop the animals, decked out in what looked to be full sets of armor. They were dressed in colorful uniforms, with long cloaks covering their chests and backs. Some of them carried banners, and all had swords at their sides and battle shields on their saddles. Several had designs stitched into their cloaks or stamped on their shields. I searched my memory and came up with a word: coats of armor. These were knights, then, or lords. Whoever they were, they were hard men, with expressions that showed no emotion. I took an involuntary step back and turned as I heard the sound of thunder once again, this time coming from the other direction.

A cloud of thick, heavy dust rose from the feet of eleven more horses as they slid to a stop several feet away. These men were dressed just as impressively. They too appeared to be armed and ready for combat.

I swallowed silently, wondering where I was and what I'd wandered into. I was sure that this wasn't a dream, and if it wasn't–if I was actually in this place, with these men–then I was probably in just as much danger as they were. More, I corrected myself, as I didn't have armor, a sword, or a shield. I took another step backward, to distance myself from the two groups.

For several minutes, none of the men spoke. The horses breathed heavily, but didn't move. Finally, a man wearing a dark red cloak embroidered with a black hawk legged his horse forward, away from his companions, and made his way to the clearing between the two groups. Before the man's horse stopped, another soldier from the opposite side
nudged his mount forward to intercept him. The second soldier, who came from the right, wore a cloak of white and dark blue. He had short blond hair and a sharp goatee, with intense black eyes that gave his features a sharp, sinister edge. He was short, but exuded a twisted, powerful aura. He wasn't a man I would want to meet.