The Nexus Ring Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Book & Copyright Information

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  © Maureen Bush, 2007.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll-free to 1-800-893-5777.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Edited by Laura Peetoom.

  Cover painting by Aries Cheung.

  Cover and book design by Duncan Campbell.

  Printed and bound in Canada by Gauvin Press.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Bush, Maureen A. (Maureen Averil), 1960-

  The nexus ring / Maureen Bush.

  (Veil of magic ; 1)

  ISBN 978-1-55050-362-3

  I. Title. II. Series: Bush, Maureen A. (Maureen Averil), 1960- .

  Veil of magic; 1.

  ps8603.u825n49 2007 jc813'.6 c2007-901255-8

  Available from: Coteau Books, 2517 Victoria Ave, Regina, Saskatchewan Canada S4P 0T2

  The publisher gratefully acknowledges the financial assistance of the Saskatchewan Arts Board, the Canada Council for the Arts, the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (bpidp), the Association for the Export of Canadian Books and the City of Regina Arts Commission for its publishing program.

  To Mark, Adriene and Lia,

  who played the game in the beginning,

  read draft after draft,

  and supported me through it ­all.

  This is for ­you.

  I knew for sure that something was wrong when I recognized the troll. I spun around to look at him as we drove away from the toll booth. He was staring at me with the nastiest glare I’d ever seen. We’d been travelling for seven hours, and I’d already seen him five times. I shivered, and muttered to myself, “This is not good, Josh.” Why was he following us? And how did he get to the toll booth ­first?

  Chapter One

  The Queen of Saanich

  It all started with a stupid game. Mom, Dad, Maddy and I were travelling home from Grandma’s house in Metchosin. That’s near the southern tip of Vancouver Island, west of Victoria. We live in Calgary, and every summer we drive out to visit Grandma. She has this fabulous art studio where I draw and paint every minute I can. My head was bursting with new ideas, and I couldn’t wait to get home to work on them. But home was two long, hot days ­away.

  To make the trip even worse, Dad made us get up early so we wouldn’t miss the seven-o’clock ferry. But the traffic past Victoria and north to Sidney was awful. By the time we got to the ferry terminal at Swartz Bay, it was five minutes to ­seven.

  “You might make it on the eight-o’clock ferry,” said the woman selling tickets, her voice ­cheery.

  Dad swore. “So much for my schedule,” he grumbled. “This is the worst I’ve ever seen it.”

  The ferry terminal was packed with row after row of cars. Dad drove to the lane we were directed to, and parked at the end of another long row. Ferry staff keep everyone in order by time of arrival, unless you’ve paid extra to reserve a spot, which Dad always refused to ­do.

  We got out of the van in the middle of the vast parking lot and organized ourselves for the wait. The sky was a beautiful clear blue, but a blustery wind tugged at our clothes. I pulled my navy hoodie over my t-­shirt, and Mom handed Maddy her purple fleece. Dad was cranky because his schedule was messed up; I was cranky because Dad had woken me at 5:30 in the morning; and Maddy was asking, for the third time, “Mommy, when will we get home?”

  Mom struggled to brush Maddy’s hair into pigtails so it wouldn’t tangle in the wind. She sighed, and spoke around the pink elastic in her mouth. “Tomorrow night, Maddy. Tomorrow night.”

  I could see her wondering how to get all these cranky people home without going crazy. She took the elastic out of her mouth and said, “Let’s play a game.”

  “I Spy,” said Maddy, leaping up and down. “Let’s play I Spy.”

  “Stand still,” said Mom, trying to hang on to Maddy’s bobbing ­pigtail.

  “I spy the seven-o’clock ferry leaving without us,” I ­said.

  “I spy my schedule ruined,” Dad ­added.

  Mom frowned at us. “Maybe something else.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she waved her hands as she spoke. “I know why we missed the ferry. We don’t have the right magic.”

  “What magic?” asked Maddy, already drawn into the ­story.

  I rolled my eyes. Mom always makes up games. Last year was The Search for Unicorns. Actually, that was kind of fun, but I‘m too old for that now. I’m almost twelve. Maddy’s only seven; she adores Mom’s ­games.

  “There are veils of mist all along our route home, and we need something magic to pass through each one. Right now we need to find the right magic to get us onto the ferry.”

  “How do we find it?” Maddy ­asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Mom. “That’s the mystery. You and Josh will have to search until you each find something that feels just right.”

  There was no way she was building me into this game! I leaned into the van to grab my sketchbook and ­pencils.

  We walked down the line of cars until we were as close to the water as we could get, near the huge ferry docks. While Maddy looked for something magic, I sketched the islands beyond the ­harbour.

  A girl about my age walked up, looking out over the water. She had brown hair in long tight curls, and beautiful warm brown skin. I stared, wondering how to mix her skin colour from the watercolour paints Grandma gave ­me.

  She looked up and caught me staring. I turned back to my sketch; she stepped closer to take a look. “Wow, that’s really good,” she ­said.

  “Thanks,” I ­muttered.

  “The islands look like cardboard ­cut-­outs sitting one behind the other.” Then she laughed. “Sorry, that probably sounds really rude, saying your drawing looks like cardboard.”

  I grinned back. “No, it’s okay. That’s how I wanted them to look. That’s how these islands always look to me.”

  She smiled, and we stood in silence. Desperate to say something, I said, “Where are you going?” just as she asked exactly the same thing. “You first,” I ­said.

  “Pender Island.” She pointed across the ferry terminal to the Gulf Islands lineup. “I live in Nanaimo, but we’re visiting friends on Pender for a few days.”

  “We were visiting my grandma in Metchosin,” I said. “We’re going to Tsawwassen.” I pointed at the monster lineup and frowned. “Well, Vancouver. Calgary, eventually.” I ground to a halt, feeling ­foolish.

  Just then Maddy bounced up. “Josh, I found some magic!” She held up a white seagull feather. “It’s perfect for our game – it’ll help us fly across the ocean.”

  The girl smiled, but I didn’t. “I’m not playing that stupid game,” I said. “And I’m busy. Don’t interrupt.”

  Maddy looked hurt. “Fine,” she said as she walked
away. “But it’ll be your fault if we don’t get on the next ferry.”

  I sighed, then carefully tore my sketch out of my sketchbook. I turned to the girl to ask if she wanted it, just as a man called out to her. “C’mon, Sam, time to go.”

  She raised a hand to him, then smiled at me, shrugged and walked ­away.

  I was watching her leave when Maddy, Mom and Dad joined ­me.

  “Did you find some magic?” Mom ­asked.

  “No,” I said, as I watched Sam get into her car. “I was just working on a sketch.”

  Mom looked ­disappointed.

  Maddy said, “Josh doesn’t want to play. He never wants to play with me anymore.”

  She sounded so forlorn I felt bad. I handed her the sketch. “Here’s my magic. I just needed to finish it.” It was almost worth not being able to give it to Sam, to see Maddy’s face light ­up.

  “Thanks,” she said. “This is perfect.”

  We watched the Gulf Islands ferry load, then pull away from the far dock. Then the Queen of Saanich arrived and unloaded near us. Finally, we heard an announcement for boarding the eight-o’clock ferry to ­Tsawwassen.

  As we wound our way through the lines of cars back to our van, Dad said, “Why is the Queen of Saanich here, instead of a bigger ferry? She’s so small, and there are so many cars ahead of us, we’ll never get on!”

  “We’ll get on, Daddy. I’m sure we have the right magic,” said Maddy, waving my sketch and her ­feather.

  We watched row after row of cars and trucks load onto the ferry, until I couldn’t imagine any more squeezing on. Finally, our row started to move. Car after car crept down to the ferry, until it was our turn. Then the traffic guy put up his hand to stop ­us.

  “Oh no!” said Dad. “Two hours off our schedule!”

  “Maybe we don’t have the right magic,” said Maddy, ­worrying.

  Then the traffic guy pointed at us, then at the ­ferry.

  “Yes!” Dad yelled, and put the van back into ­gear.

  I checked behind me. We were the last car to get ­on.

  After another long lineup to buy breakfast on the ferry, we struggled through the crowded cafeteria with our plastic trays, to a table barely big enough for four. Mom started in on the game again. “We’ll need more magic to get off the ferry,” she ­said.

  Maddy grinned; she loved this stuff. I dug into my ­waffles.

  Dad leaned towards me. “Magic might be more fun than I Spy.”

  I shrugged him off, then thought about it. Maddy was going to keep bugging me. So was Mom. Maybe if I said yes they’d leave me alone. “What would I have to do?”

  “You’ll have to search for the right magic to take us through the next veil,” Mom said. “Let your feelings help you.”

  I sighed. “Where do we look?”

  “You could look in the gift shop.”

  The gift shop? Maybe I’d find something for an art project. I stifled my smile. “I guess,” I said, with another ­sigh.

  “What if we don’t find the right magic?” Maddy ­asked.

  Mom leaned towards Maddy and whispered, her eyes wide, “Then we’ll be stuck on the ferry for another run. Three more hours.”

  We found a tiny gift shop tucked midway along the ferry. I groaned when I saw it. It was too small to have anything ­useful.

  Mom gave us instructions. “Look around for something that might be magic. Trust your feelings.”

  “How will we know when we’ve found it?” Maddy ­asked.

  “You’ll know,” Mom told ­her.

  I ­snorted.

  “Maddy’s very intuitive, Josh,” Mom said. “You should try it. Listen to that voice inside.”

  Mom is so weird. The only time my insides talk to me is when I’m hungry. “C’mon, Maddy,” I ­said.

  I browsed through the usual boring adult stuff – mugs and magazines and medicine. The only thing useful for art was an elastic band I found on the floor. As for magic, unless it was made in China, I wasn’t going to find any in the kid section. Finally, I picked up a pen with a little ferry inside and slowly floated the boat to one ­end.

  Maddy slipped past a tall woman in a black cloak and picked up something gleaming on the floor. “Look what I found.” She tugged at my elbow. “Josh!”

  I shrugged her off. “Just a sec!” She could never wait. I floated the ferry back while Maddy ­watched.

  “That’s so cute!”

  Cute? I tossed the pen back in the box. “What do you want?”

  Maddy showed me a green stone ring, dark in her small hand. “It was lying on the floor.”

  “You’d better take it to the clerk.” I followed Maddy to the sales ­desk.

  Maddy held out the ring to a young woman at the cash register. “I found this on the floor by the window.”

  “Oh, thank you, sweetie,” said the clerk as she took the ring. “It belongs right here.” She dropped it into a bowl of ­rings.

  Maddy looked at the price on the bowl, then picked up the ring again. She slipped it on her finger and smiled. “This is what I’m going to buy.”

  I heard a gasp behind me and glanced over my shoulder. The tall woman in the cloak was staring at Maddy. When she saw me watching, she spun around and glided away. I turned back to Maddy. “I’ll get some money.”

  It took a while to find Mom, lost in a book in the far corner. When I got back, a man was towering over Maddy, one hand reaching out to her. He was short and wide, with thick black eyebrows and huge ears. Maddy looked scared. She leaned away from him, a tightly closed fist behind her ­back.

  I hurried to her side, and she grabbed me. The man scowled a ­black-­eyebrows-­meeting-­in-­the-­middle scowl. I scowled back, trying to look just as fierce. He glared, then stomped out of the gift shop. I stared after him, my knees shaking. “What did he want?”

  Maddy started waving her hands. “He wanted my ring. He offered to trade, but he scared me, so I said no.”

  “Good for you,” I said. “Let’s pay for the ring and get out of here.”

  “Did you find the right magic?” Mom asked as we walked out of the gift ­shop.

  Maddy showed her the ­ring.

  “This is lovely. What did you get, Josh?”

  Oops. “I forgot. I didn’t buy anything.”

  “You have to have something magic,” Maddy said, “or we’ll be stuck here. You have to.” She stomped her foot, and Mom frowned at ­me.

  Why was I stupid enough to agree to play? I looked around for something I could say was magic, then remembered the elastic. “Here,” I said, pulling it out of my pocket. “I found this, I mean, it found me, just like your ring found you. So it must be magic.” I smiled at Maddy, and she grinned ­back.

  Our smiles are alike and we’re both small, but otherwise, Maddy and I don’t look much like brother and sister. She has straight golden brown hair that lightens every summer as her skin tans. The only parts of my skin that get dark are my freckles. I have pale skin and dark curly hair, like Mom’s, only shorter. Maddy takes after Dad, except she has long hair, and he has hardly ­any.

  “Dad said he’d meet us on deck. Let’s go find him,” Mom ­said.

  The wind hit us as we stepped ­outside.

  “I hope he found a sheltered spot,” Mom ­grumbled.

  “Are you kidding?” I said. “He always finds a quiet place so he can spread out his maps.”

  “There he is,” said Maddy, and she dashed off to ­him.

  Dad looked up and patted the ­life-­jacket locker he was sitting on. We climbed beside him, tucked out of the wind and warm in the sun. Dad sat with an old brass compass in his hand and a map across his knees. “I’m plotting our route through the islands. Want to see, Josh?” Dad’s a mapmaker. He always knows where he is, and he thinks we should, ­too.

  “Where’s your gps?” I asked. Dad loves to use his Global Positioning System receiver to get satellite readings on our locations when we ­travel.

  “I left it in the va
n. I’m going to do this the ­old-­fashioned way. This was my father’s compass. Want me to show you?”

  “You know that stuff doesn’t make any sense to me.”

  “I could teach you,” he said. “I’ll even get you your own compass.”

  “But I really don’t care.”

  Dad sighed and turned back to his ­map.

  I worked on sketches of the islands and the ocean until we neared ­Vancouver.

  After a stop at the washrooms (Dad says travellers should pee whenever they get the chance), Dad led us down clanging stairs and through a heavy door to our car ­deck.

  “Do you have your magic ready?” Mom asked. “Remember, if you didn’t find the right things, we’ll be trapped on the ferry.”

  “We’ll just bounce against the veil and not be able to drive off,” Maddy ­said.

  Dad moaned. “That would put us four hours behind schedule.”

  Maddy held up her ring. “C’mon, Josh. Get out your elastic.”

  “All right,” I said, sighing. I squirmed to dig it out of my ­pocket.

  As Mom pulled forward to follow the line of cars off the ferry, something moved in the shadows. I glanced over and spotted the man from the gift shop. He caught me staring at him and scowled. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Look, Maddy,” I whispered. “It’s that man who wanted your ring.”

  Maddy turned and shivered. “He looks like a troll, lurking in the dark.”

  Chapter Two

  That Man

  We struggled through Vancouver traffic, then sped past Fraser River Valley farms, towards mountains and fog. I sketched while Mom drove and Dad lectured about ­water.

  “There’s the Fraser River, flowing west to the ocean. Once we’re over the Rocky Mountains the rivers flow east.”

  “How can a river flow in two directions?” Maddy ­asked.

  Dad laughed. “It doesn’t work that way, hon. Imagine the top of a mountain. When it rains or snows, water runs down the mountain. At the Continental ­Divide – ­that’s the border between Alberta and British ­Columbia –­ water coming down one side of the mountain flows west to the Pacific Ocean, and water on the other side flows east.”