The Silver Moon Elm (12 page)

“Because you wanted to save me.”

“The necklace,” he explained, pointing at it. She fingered the emblem of the Moon of the Falling Leaves. “It’s a protective talisman, representing change. The wearer can survive all but the most dramatic transformations. It needs a little help to work, and I’ve learned enough sorcery to enhance it. So even as the universe changed, you survived. With me.”

“And what about everyone else?”

He shrugged. “I’m figuring that out now. I spent the morning back at my place. I haven’t met anyone yet who’s even aware that the universe is any different. My aunt Tavia, Mr. Slider, the newspaper delivery guy, the guy at the twenty-four-hour gas station—they look the same, but they have completely different memories of how they got here. None of them has even heard of Winoka.”

“Why didn’t you tell me last night.” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.

He held his hands out, palms up. “Jennifer, you don’t believe me now, and it’s happened! How on earth were you going to believe me last night?”

“We could have stopped it.”

“Jennifer, whoever did this is not the kind of werachnid you just stop. Look at what they’ve done!”

“We could have stopped it!” she insisted. “My mom and dad, they would have found a way! And Eddie’s parents, and Mayor Seabright, and the Blaze, they would have helped!”

“Those people don’t exist anymore, Jennifer. They never saw it coming. They didn’t have a chance. And they certainly don’t anymore. According to my aunt here, no one’s seen a weredragon or beaststalker near Pinegrove for years. Heck, the guy at the gas station didn’t even know what a beaststalker was.”

“Stop talking!” She put her hands over her ears. “You’re lying! There’s another explanation! This is a rancid little joke from a really puny mind, and I’ll get you for this, Wilson! This is not funny at all!”

“I agree. It’s not funny. But it’s not a joke, and it’s happened. Jennifer, we have to figure out what to do next.”

She looked at the houses near her own. The Blacktooth house had also been obliterated by one of these creepy, fat thin houses (this one a pale yellow, like the color of a desert scorpion). Another house—she was pretty sure the family in it had been simply human—was unchanged. Down the way, the Fisk house and the Anderson house also looked intact. She couldn’t make out the Elmsmith house.

Susan!

She began to walk.

“Susan’s not there, Jennifer. I checked. I don’t think her family ever moved to this town. Remember, they came here for beaststalker protection?”

This stopped her in her tracks. “You must think this is pretty damn hilarious, don’t you, Wilson?”

“No, I don’t. I wish you would believe me.”

I’m beginning to
, she admitted to herself grudgingly.
Really, she had no choice
.

“All right,” she said.
I can handle this. Can’t I
? “So we have to figure out how exactly this sorcery worked. Then we have to find a way to reverse it. Maybe we can find friends in this universe who—”

“Jennifer, hold up. I don’t think that’s what your dad would want.”

She clenched her teeth. “How the hell would you know what my dad would want?”

“Because I talked with him.”

“How? When?”

“He saw us leave your house last night,” Skip explained. “He followed us to make sure you didn’t do anything rash. You seemed upset from that argument with your mother, he said. He kept his distance while we had ice cream and walked to the park. After I had you fall asleep, he came up and asked me what I thought I was doing.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t kick your ass.”

“No, you’re lucky. Once I explained to him what was going on, he agreed I was the only one who could save you.”

“Why not him, too?”

“The necklace only helps the wearer, and the one who casts the protective sorcery. Your dad and I agreed you were the right one to save.”

“You two agreed? You two made this decision for me?”

“He’s your dad, Jennifer. What else was he supposed to do?”

“So you told him off, and he just agreed the universe was screwed, and he left?”

“Of course not. He wanted to strangle me. But we didn’t have much time, so he wrote this for you instead.” He handed her a folded piece of paper.

She slowly unfolded it. It was a utility bill to the Scales residence at 9691 Pine Street East. ($320.32, she noticed.) On the back, there was a scribbled note. The handwriting was definitely her father’s—the same hurried script he used for lists of chores she had to do, or to let her and her mother know he’d be in Crescent Valley for a few days.

Jennifer
,

What can I write
?
There’s not enough time
.

Skip has told me what will happen. When you read this, you will likely be alone. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry the world separated us before any of us were ready. And our fight—I’m sorry for that, too
.

But while this may be the end for your mother and me, it cannot be the end for you. Make the best life you can, where you are. Do not try to change anything back. It will get you killed
.

Grow old. Marry, if you fall in love. Live a rich life. Tell your children and grandchildren about us, if the moment is ever right. It is all a parent can ask
.

Of course, your mother and I love you. Never forget that
.

Stay as strong as stone. Stay as beautiful as fire. Stay alive
.

—Dad

She read it twice, and then once more. Her eyes took in the words, but her brain refused to recognize them.

Where was the part that told her they would be okay?

Where was the part that told her there was a plan?

Where was the part that told her how to get back?

She crumpled the note in her hands and clenched her teeth. Grow old? Marry? Grandchildren? Here? I’m not staying here! This isn’t home!

“I’m not staying here!” she repeated aloud to Skip. “I’m not staying here! You can’t keep me here! This is insane! I want to go back, right now! Send me back!”

“Jennifer.” He frowned as he softly brushed her cheek. “You’re not listening. There is no ‘back.’ This universe isn’t parallel. It’s a replacement, a patch.”

She slapped his hand away. “Then we’re unpatching it! We’ll find—”

“Find what? Who?” He shrugged in exasperation. “Who can change it back? Where the hell would we start?”

“Mr. Slider knows,” she accused him desperately. “You said yourself he knew this was going to happen. We go to him and we make him tell us—”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “He won’t remember! He’s not the same Mr. Slider I left behind! He wasn’t in the bubble I cast with the necklace—just you and me. I replaced whatever Skip was already here—not that anyone will know that. As for you, Jennifer, Mr. Slider will have no idea who you are! If you go up to him or my aunt and order them to tell you who changed the world, they’ll think you’ve escaped from a mental institution. And with no family to speak of, that’s where you might end up!”

She sank to the ground, dragging him with her. “Skip, you have to help me. I can’t stay here like this. My parents are waiting for me. They’re worried. We were arguing, and—”

“Jennifer. Your parents are gone.”

“Don’t say that!” From her huddled position on the ground, she pushed him away. “Don’t say they’re gone! They’re not gone!”

“Read the note…”

She ripped up the utility bill and threw the pieces at him. “This note is a lie! You forged it! My mom and dad are waiting for me and you’re taking me to them right now!”

Instead of arguing anymore, he bent to pick up the pieces of paper.

“What are you doing?” she sniffled.

“You’re going to want these,” he told her tonelessly. “It’s more than either of my parents ever left me.”

A moment of curiosity got the better of her. “Are your parents alive here?”

“I haven’t looked.” He finished gathering the letter fragments and handed the small bundle to her. “If you come to my aunt’s home with me, there’s time to get you cleaned up. You can wear what you’ve got, or borrow something of mine, whatever you like. This afternoon, we can go clothes shopping—”

“Shopping!” She grabbed the bits of paper back but did not rescatter them. Instead, she shoved them in a jacket pocket. “I can’t go shopping! Skip, aren’t you going to help me?”

He heaved a long sigh and rubbed his forehead. “Jennifer, what I’d do to help you…Can you at least accept we’ll need more than an hour here to get the job done? I mean, it’s going to take time. And you need a place to stay, and you can’t wear the same outfit every day. Right?”

She bit her lip as her face reddened. Of course he wanted to help her. He already had, by saving her from the same obliteration that had taken everything else she knew. And what he said now made sense. Why was she yelling at him?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just can’t…this is too…”

“I know.” He slid next to her on the ground and held her. “This is a lot to take in. I can barely believe it myself. We’ll work through it together, okay? Come with me.”

The next couple of hours were a blur. His house was still a two-story Cape Cod with brown shingles and a bright red door and yellow trim, so she guessed not all werachnids lived in grotesque über-houses with spooky spires. Neither Tavia Saltin nor Edmund Slider were there at the moment. Skip said they were both teachers at the high school now, and the workday there had begun.

The house was decorated much as it had been when Jennifer saw it last, which was a cold comfort to her. Lots of shots of Tavia and Edmund together: formal portraits, vacation photos from camel rides and hiking trips—

She paused over one of them. Hiking trips. There was Edmund Slider, formerly bound to a wheelchair, now standing tall astride a forested mountain path, nothing but nature in the background, lifting his girlfriend in his arms and smiling at an unseen cameraman.

So he can walk now.

There were pictures of Skip’s parents on a wall here and there—but, of course, that had been true before. Otto Saltin had been Tavia’s brother, after all, and Dianna Wilson her sister-in-law. (There were six other Saltin siblings, Jennifer counted from one of the more formal photographs. One such studio photo had all the Saltins in spider form, splayed out on webs, against a traditional blue-gray background.)

Despite the occasional shot of Otto and Dianna, it was clear Skip’s parents didn’t live here—just Tavia and Edmund. Were they married? She didn’t see a wedding photo anywhere.

Moving into the dining room, Jennifer thought of a meal she had eaten in this house, on a date with Skip not long ago, where she had wondered at speckles in the mashed potatoes. She also thought of last night’s dream, and the dragons trapped like flies in the thickening web.

Skip invited her upstairs. His wardrobe was about the same in this universe as it had been before—lots of dark, stark colors. Jennifer decided against new pants, opting for her own skirt so she could keep her daggers handy, but she did change her top to a black, buttoned-down, collared shirt. It felt a bit better to put something clean on, and it did smell like him, which was a small comfort. Skip found some agreeable makeup from his aunt’s room, so she washed her face and applied some simple base, lipstick, and waterproof mascara: Today felt like a day she was likely to spend crying an awful lot.

They walked to the school, which wasn’t too great a distance, and it gave Jennifer a chance to see more of the town. Her first impression of the town was right, as was the population sign—there were more houses than before, packed a bit more tightly, and a few larger condominiums that were doubtless teeming with spider families and old scorpion couples. But there were perfectly normal-looking people coming out to get the mail and check their lawn sprinklers.

How can some be spiders and some not under this moon, she wondered idly, thinking of the hunted cows. Only Skip can change back and forth when he likes.

Whoever did this can spin the clock back and change history, she answered herself. Changing shape at will is probably child’s play to them!

“Have you been to the hospital?” she asked Skip.

“I haven’t had the chance,” he replied. Then he answered her real question: “Jennifer, I really think your parents are both gone.”

She held a hand out. “Skip, drop it.”

“I’m not trying to upset you—”

“Then don’t.”

They walked for a while in silence. Jennifer tried hard not to think of her parents, which of course meant she spent the entire time thinking about her parents. The only thing keeping her feet moving forward was the thought that she would find her mother, and then her father. Then I’ll take Dad’s note and cram it down his throat for scaring me. Then the three of us will blow this universe apart.

“Wow,” Skip murmured.

They were cresting the hill less than a mile from the high school. The massive, maroon and white brick building appeared no different from the outside. Sure, the sign by the parking lot said PINEGROVE HIGH—GO SCORPIONS! instead of WINOKA HIGH—GO FALCONS!, but Jennifer was learning not to sweat the small stuff.

However, the hulking structure beyond it—what looked like an enormous, metallic golf ball four stories high bound to the earth with a web of massive steel beams—that was new.

“What is that?” she asked.

He whistled. “Huh.”

“Whatever it is, it’s sitting right in the middle of the soccer practice field.” This offended Jennifer on a newer, deeper level. She gave it a hard look, and she suddenly felt as if it was giving her a hard look back. A cold light shone on her insides, where her lungs were breathless and her heart was slowing.
Something in there can see me. Right through me
.

“Let’s get you registered.” He steered her toward the more normal-looking school building.

In the principal’s office, Jennifer had her first pleasant surprise since waking up.