The Stone Key (The Novel Adventures of Nimrod Vale Book 2) Page 5

  “So, what were you doing back there, stacking rocks?”

  Bardrick rested his fingers on the door with wide eyes. “Shh. Don’t mention that to him—he’ll get mad. He doesn’t want me following in his father’s footsteps.”

  I nodded my head. Who was I to ruin this guy’s day? “Sure.”

  Bardrick pushed open the door, and we passed through a cool hall into a large chamber. It had a sturdy wooden table and chairs at the far side, a fireplace at the center and what appeared to be a kitchen at the other end. A man, holding a chisel, worked away at a piece of wood on the table. A pile of sawdust and splinters lay around him.

  When Bardrick entered the man said without looking up, “You’re back awfully quick. Did you break something on your way to help your mother and brother?”

  My companion’s silence seemed to answer his father’s question.

  “Nothing valuable I hope?” His father stopped working and sighed. When he tore his gaze from his woodworking, he noticed me standing beside his son. “Who’s this? I can’t be taking care of strays—it’s hard enough providing for you, your mother and brother.”

  “Don’t worry, Father. This is Nim. He’s only here looking for information about his grandfather, Nimrod Vale, like our street name. Ever heard of him?” Bardrick went and stood beside the table his father was working at.

  I waited awkwardly in the center of the room, hoping I wasn’t just wasting my time. The man glanced at me, then continued to chisel away at the wood, which I realized was being carved into a jar with a narrow lip.

  “Name sounds familiar. If my father were still alive and hadn’t been driven from the city, he’d probably know.” He coughed, then continued. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d tell you to go to the record keeper, since he keeps the history of everything that happens in this city, but he’s like everyone else around here—concerned about leaving before all the water dries up.”

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “Guess you already tried?”

  Unsure of what else to do, I folded my arms and said, “Seems he’s too busy to help anyone if he’s turned away Bardrick, Kyrah and me.”

  “What do you mean, Bardrick?” his dad asked, directing his gaze to his son. “Have you been poking around for your grandfather’s journal when I told you to leave it alone?”

  Bardrick’s cheeks flushed and his eyes widened. “I wouldn’t ignore your wishes, Father.”

  My companion cast me a worried expression, and walked around the table toward his dad. Somehow, his foot caught the table leg. He stumbled into the woodworker, who narrowly missed his hand with the chisel. His father set his tools down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t you go see if Mom and Aaron need help carrying the water home—try to get a little further than last time.”

  It seemed like a mean thing to say. I was beginning to wonder if Bardrick had a reputation for clumsiness. At this point I was eager to leave the shadowy home and the presence of this grumpy man.

  “I’ll try,” Bardrick said, walking away and motioning for me to follow.

  I muttered thanks to his father before following him out. Things were appearing just as depressing here as they were in my real life. Maybe going back into the book had been a bad idea—I’d only agitated the people I’d met, and I hadn’t helped anyone, including myself.

  On the street Bardrick apologized. “Sorry about that, Nim. I thought maybe he’d have some information about your grandfather.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Sorry I said anything about your visit to Obo,” I said honestly.

  He stared at me with curious eyes. “It’s impossible for me to make him happy. But, what did you say about Duchess Kyrah?”

  “Duchess? No,” I said and shook my head. “That can’t be right. She didn’t look anything like a duchess—isn’t that like a princess? I’ve seen one before and even when she was dirty, she looked like a princess. The girl I met yesterday was definitely not a duchess. No way—she was too normal.”

  Bardrick asked, “But she told you she’d tried to get in to the Hall of Records? Why would she care to?”

  I scratched my forehead. “Ah, she said that the masons built the caverns and there had to be a way to fix the problem—that Obo might have the answer on his shelves. I was actually walking in to meet her again when I was distracted by your street name.”

  Hands grasping my forearms, Bardrick asked with tension in his voice, “She knows of an entrance to the caverns?”

  “No.”

  Bardrick frowned, muttering to himself. “Why would you give up on such a great place?”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I just don’t understand why everyone’s so ready to leave before trying everything. If Obo weren’t so stubborn and didn’t have his own guards to command, I’d go in there and demand grandfather’s building records. All of his old plans, information about the spring’s source and sketches of the aqueduct—the crazy ideas that got him kicked out of the city—are all in his journal, which was confiscated. It belongs to my family. Too bad it’s been lost to that old record keeper’s collection of paperweights.” He looked at the end of the street and waved his hand. “If my grandfather were still alive, I’m sure he’d know what to do.”

  From experience, I knew what Bardrick was feeling. But, since I’d already used up most of my time and needed to get back to the portal, I knew I needed to leave. I was one police call away from getting into deep trouble with Aunt Holly. There was no way she’d forgive me for disappearing again so soon after the last time.

  “If I think of a way to help, I’ll let you know. I need to get back to my aunt’s before she notices I’m gone. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

  Bardrick walked me to the end of the street and waved before turning toward the citadel and the long line I couldn’t see. I didn’t know what his mother or brother looked like, but could imagine them standing all day in the water line, growing thirsty and tired.

  I jogged up the hill out of town like I had yesterday. Sweat dewed at my brow, and my leather pants chafed at my skin. My throat was dry, and I was in pain. I was just as miserable as the last time, but for whatever reason, I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself. Other people in this world and in mine were suffering. They were actually more unhappy than me (and that’s saying something). It didn’t make me feel better knowing that, but it gave me perspective and strength.

  Without whimpering or complaining, I forged my way to the portal. I stepped through, relieved that I had a home to go back to. That I had water, food and someone who cared for me. And that was something.

  Drawn to Life

  Having a little perspective in your life can make your own problems seem smaller. At least, that’s what Mom always said. For about an hour after I got back to Grandpa’s study, I had this sense that things weren’t as bad as they could be, which is actually pretty positive for me. I’m a glass half-empty kind of guy. That’s what made Pepper and I a perfect team. What I lacked in optimism, she made up for in spades. But now that she was all gloom and doom, that left us in a bad place. You can’t have two people waiting for the world to end—it’s too depressing. Nothing gets done.

  I’d have to do something about that.

  I felt a little out of sorts. I wasn’t used to being the positive one. The one who had to convince someone else to think their way out of a problem. The friend who had to go out of their way to lift the other up. Pepper excelled at that. She was built for it. Or so it seemed.

  Grandpa’s hard wooden seat held me as I leaned my elbows on the rolltop desk. I closed the fairy tale I’d exited and set it aside. I’d already placed the golden pen back into its case, and even though I should have started my homework, I couldn’t stop thinking about Pepper. So, I searched for my old story—the one that had led me to discover Grandpa’s magical secret.

  As frustrated as I’d been with her at the time, because she’d disagreed with me about leaving the people in my story to die, those m
emories were some of the best of my life. She’d snuck into the story to do what she could to help, forcing me to follow her in. Somehow, we’d saved the day and helped a lifeless and tragic world become bright and hopeful. One of my finest accomplishments.

  I found the pages on the desk covered with other papers and notebooks. With them in my lap, I fanned through them, recalling the characters we’d affected and changed. On the final page were the familiar last words that had stopped me from adding anything further to it—The End. Although, I was surprised to see that wasn’t all.

  Leafy branches reached up toward the words from a thick trunk. The penned-in sketch was impressive and detailed. The tear shaped leaves filled in a healthy canopy—I could even detect a soft velveteen fuzz growing from the tree’s base. I could imagine the colorful purples and greens in my mind, just as it had been in real life.

  The illustration was something to admire. I knew immediately who’d drawn it. Pepper.

  Lots of questions swelled in my mind, and all I wanted to do was call her up on the phone to ask. The last time we’d talked, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be friends any longer. Maybe it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

  I picked up my phone from the desk and stared at its shiny face. I knew her number by heart, but I set it back down. What would Pepper do if the tables were turned? What Pepper always did best—invite herself in.

  It was close to dinner, but I didn’t want to wait. I had this strange new superpower infecting me with its energy—optimism, or maybe it was insanity. Same thing, right? So, I jumped up and ran downstairs to the kitchen to find Aunt Holly. With the handle of a large curved pan in her hands, she slid it back and forth over the burner of the stove. Steam curled up into her awaiting face, and her hair appeared even curlier than usual.

  “Hey, Nim. Nice pants,” she greeted me, pointing at my legs.

  I’d forgotten about the leather pants. It didn’t matter now, I had a mission.

  She winked at me and said, “You ready for some stir fry?”

  “Yeah, er, no,” I answered. “Is there enough for one more?”

  She paused to look at me, the corners of her mouth threatening to curl into a smile. “Pepper?”

  “I’m going to drag her from her house if I have to. If it doesn’t go well, then I’ll be back alone—but wish me luck.”

  Aunt Holly froze hearing the words coming out of my mouth. They even took me by surprise. I didn’t think I’d ever said anything like it in my life. Maybe I was channeling a little too much of Pepper. Before she could respond, I rushed out of the house to the ugly retro bike leaning against the side fence. I pointed it down the driveway and lowered myself onto the sparkly banana seat.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I pedaled as quickly as I could through the neighborhood, eager to talk to Pepper before my confidence fizzled. Through the twilight, I bumped across the uneven sidewalk and flew past stop signs. Before long her immense lawn and driveway stretched before me.

  The white For Sale sign glowed in the half-light, but I didn’t slow. I raced up to the front door and nearly left marks on the pavement when I skidded to a stop. I flung the bike down and leapt up the front steps. I rang the front doorbell twice and considered walking straight into the house like Pepper, but chose not to after deciding that her parents didn’t seem like the type of people who would find it amusing.

  The door opened, and I found myself facing Pepper’s mother, who smiled pleasantly at me. “Oh, it’s Nim, right?”

  “Yes. Is Pepper home? I really need to talk to her.” I panted, still out of breath from my bike ride.

  Her eyes widened, then she stepped back to let me in. “You should find her in her room—I don’t think she leaves it anymore.”

  I didn’t stop to make small chat—I hadn’t come to make friends with her mother, after all. My hand clamped down on the banister, and I moved up the stairs as fast as I could, which was probably pretty slow. My eyes scanned the darkened hallway for her bedroom door. Without announcing myself, I slipped inside, prepared to do anything to show Pepper she couldn’t shut me out of her life.

  A light was on at her desk, but the seat was empty. Papers scattered the floor. Some were crumpled and wadded into balls.

  “Why are you here?” a familiar voice asked.

  With her back against the wall, she sat on her bed with her knees up and a pad of paper propped against them. Her black hair hung around her face, but she looked different. The usual black stuff that lined her eyes wasn’t there. Although they were a little puffy and red, I could see their clear blue tones reflecting back at me.

  “I’m here to bring you home,” I said. “You wouldn’t let me hide away, so I’m here to be your shadow.”

  She blinked at me from over the edge of her drawing pad. “You must have found me extremely annoying.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Pepper’s eyebrow lifted, and I realized my mistake. I stammered, “Um, I don’t mean that I think you’re annoying. You just don’t give a lot of space…not that that’s a bad thing. I miss it—er, you.”

  “There’s the Nimrod I know,” she muttered and tossed the pad of paper across her bed. “I miss having someone to talk to—aka, annoy.”

  Then, I noticed the corners of her lips turn up until she was almost smiling, so I took my opportunity. “I need your help, Pepper. Aunt Holly made too much dinner, and she’s expecting me to bring you home. Plus, I can’t search for my grandpa alone. I tried, but—”

  “You what?” She slid forward and let her legs touch the floor.

  “Hey, you told me you didn’t want to be friends anymore,” I said, defending myself.

  Pepper shook her head and answered, “No, I told you to find a new friend. That’s totally different. I never wanted to stop being friends. As usual, you didn’t follow my instructions.”

  “You know me…instructions are only for the unimaginative.”

  A laugh escaped her lips, and she threw a ball of crumpled paper at me, hitting my shoulder. “So, what’s for dinner?”

  “It’ll be a surprise—c’mon.”

  “Well, I do like surprises—at least the good kind. Not the type my parents like to give.” Her face pinched into a frown.

  She looked like she needed a hug or something, but the best I could do was stand there like a Neanderthal. I stared at my hands before saying, “There’s no reason why we can’t keep hanging out until you move. Plus, who knows, maybe you can convince them to stay.”

  Pepper snorted. “That would mean they’d have to listen to me.”

  I swallowed my discomfort and looked at the door. I’d done my best at channeling Pepper, and now I was starting to feel the old Nimrod shining through. I’d done the best I could. If she didn’t want to be friends, then I figured I was truly on my own. What were the chances of finding someone else who would want to hang out with me?

  “You look like a lost puppy. I wasn’t saying that I wasn’t going to help you. How could I miss out on a chance to complain about my parentals? Did you hoof it here, or steal the keys to Holly’s car? I’m tired of staring at these walls. It’s time to dash.”

  I thought about the bike that had been tossed by her front steps. It was just the sort of thing Pepper would love. “I biked here.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “How athletic of you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve decided to get into shape. It just makes sense, going into worlds that might require you to run for your life. I choose life.”

  Pepper sat quietly on her bed staring at me with a strange look on her face. It made me nervous. “What?” I asked defensively.

  She stood up and tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “It’s only been a few days without me, and you’ve gone and changed. I like it.”

  Luckily, I didn’t have to respond to her, because she went to her closet to put on a red flannel shirt and a pair of black Doc Martens. To top it all off, she slipped a worn black leather aviator hat onto her he
ad. She pulled the earflaps down and turned to me with a smile. “Style tip of the day—you must dress for the situation.” She pointed at her head. “So my ears don’t get cold.”

  All I could do was shake my head in response. Pepper stomped past me in her boots to open her door. She blazed ahead of me, down the stairs to the foyer. Her yell echoed through the house. “I’m going to Nimrod’s for dinner. Be back later.”

  She didn’t wait for an answer, but burst outside with me close behind. When she saw the bike, she clapped her hands together. “That. Is. Awesome!”

  “Yeah, well,” I said while lifting it from the ground, “it’s the only one that could hold air in the tires. I’d like a mountain bike instead.”

  “So, how do we do this?” she asked, placing her fingers on the handlebars.

  This week had been the first time in years that I’d even gotten onto a bike. Riding tandem was something I’d never done, so I had to think about it for a minute to figure it out. “You should sit on the seat, and I’ll stand and pedal. It’s not too far. Aunt Holly should be able to drop you off later.”

  It took us a few minutes to get situated, but finally we were moving down her driveway and were on our way to my house. I may not have liked sitting on the banana seat, but standing and pedaling was worse. I hoped Pepper didn’t enjoy it too much, because this wasn’t something I wanted to do often.

  “Hello?” Aunt Holly called out when we walked through the front door. I knew what she was really asking—are you alone?