The Nexus Ring Read online

  “Wow,” said Maddy, but she still looked confused. When her stomach growled, she shrugged and asked, “When’s lunch? I’m starving.”

  “In just a few minutes,” Dad said. “We’re almost at Bridal Veil Falls, right on our revised schedule. We’ll be home by dinnertime tomorrow, barring any construction delays, and we should have time for a swim before dinner tonight.”

  I checked my watch and sighed – ­twenty-­nine hours to ­home.

  Mom couldn’t find the sign for Bridal Veil Falls, but Dad knew how to get there. It’s a park with huge trees and picnic tables along both sides of a little ­stream.

  We hauled a cooler to a picnic table by the water, where we ate sandwiches and Grandma’s gingersnap cookies. The air was foggy and cool, and by the time we finished eating, our hair was covered with tiny drops of ­water.

  After we ate, Dad made us walk up to the falls to stretch our legs. Mom started in on her game again. “There’s another veil where we turn onto the Coquihalla Highway. You’ll need something special from the falls. They’re full of magic.”

  “The cokeawhata?” asked Maddy. “I can never pronounce that.”

  “The Coke ah hall ah,” I said, making a face at ­her.

  We followed the creek past huge mossy trees, drippy in the fog. Maddy picked up a pop can ring and offered it to me as my bit of ­magic.

  “I don’t want a useless piece of junk,” I ­said.

  Maddy stuck out her tongue, then shoved the metal ring into her pocket. Then she picked up a winged seed pod she pretended was a butterfly. She flew it over a wooden bridge and Mom roared, “Who’s that walking on my bridge?”

  Maddy shrieked, then giggled and took off after Mom. Mom raced up the path, but Maddy suddenly skidded to a halt. When I caught up with her, she was staring at the man from the gift shop, sitting perched in a ­rotted-­out stump. I grabbed her hand and pulled her up the ­trail.

  “Is he following us?” Maddy sounded ­scared.

  He must be, I thought, trying not to look frightened. “Of course not,” I said. “C’mon, let’s catch up with Mom and Dad.”

  Maddy dashed off and I followed close behind. We raced through the forest, while I watched over my ­shoulder.

  But I forgot about the man when we reached the falls. White threads of water poured out of the mist high above me. The forest smelled delicious, green and mossy. Sap green, I thought. That’s the paint colour I’d use. I walked closer to the base of the falls, then looked at the pebbles below my feet. One, wet and grey, glistened at me. I dropped it into my pocket, then remembered that ­man.

  I couldn’t see Maddy anywhere. “Maddy? Maddy?” I tried to shout over the roar of the falls. I spotted a shadow hurrying down the path. That man? I raced after him, scared he’d got Maddy. “Maddy!” I ­screamed.

  “booo!” Maddy yelled, jumping out from behind a ­tree.

  “Aaah!” I screamed again. Then I bellowed, ­“Madd-­dy!”

  She left me alone after that, but I kept watch. As we headed down the trail I tried to tell Mom about the man, but she just laughed and said, “We’d better hurry, then. There’s no way he’ll be able to follow us through the next veil of mist.”

  I looked around as we drove away. In the shadow beside the bathrooms, the scowling man was watching us. Beyond the bathrooms, quiet in the trees, the woman from the gift shop stood watching ­him.

  I sketched shadows to Mom’s next magic veil, where Maddy made me hold out the rock I picked up at the falls. She flew her butterfly seedpod as the van curved north onto the Coquihalla, then waved her arms to mime bursting through a veil of ­mist.

  “Yes!” Dad grinned and slapped his hand against

  the steering wheel. “Right on schedule. How many more to go?”

  “The next veil is at the toll booth halfway up the Coquihalla,” Mom ­said.

  “The troll booth,” said Maddy. “It should be a troll booth!”

  Mom laughed. “We’ll need gold to get past a troll.” She started to hunt for coins. “How much is it?”

  “Ten dollars,” Dad said. “Are you going to pay in change?”

  “Sure. Trolls love gold, don’t they, Maddy?”

  Maddy wriggled in her seat. “Oh, yeah. And if we don’t pay in gold, we can’t get past him.”

  I interrupted. “Dad, I don’t think this troll thing is very funny. There’s this man we keep seeing; he looks like a troll. We saw him twice on the ferry and again at Bridal Veil Falls, and I think something’s wrong.”

  Mom stopped me. “What did you say? He looks like a troll?”

  “Yeah, that’s how ugly he is.”

  “Josh, that’s mean. I’m glad you’re playing along with the game, but you can’t make fun of people because you don’t like how they look.”

  “But we keep seeing him. It’s weird.”

  “Daddy, is he following us?” Maddy ­asked.

  “No, of course not,” Dad said. “Josh is just trying to make the game scarier.”

  Trust your feelings, Mom says, but everything’s just a game to her. And Dad! He always knows where he is, but he hasn’t noticed someone is following his kids. How could they not ­see?

  I drew while I thought about it. We first saw that man in the gift shop, when Maddy was buying her ring. “Maddy, can I see your ring?”

  Reluctantly, she passed it to me. The smooth, ­jade-­green stone was still warm from her hand. I held it up to the light. There were no special markings; it was just a girl’s ring. I sighed and handed it ­back.

  We’d left the fog of the coastal mountains and were driving high up the Coquihalla. The mountains were small compared to the Rockies, but we were still high enough to be driving through clouds. Partway up the Coquihalla highway, we stopped behind a semi at one of the toll ­booths.

  “Okay, guys,” Dad said. “Will the troll like our gold?”

  Maddy laughed. “He’ll love it, and he’ll have to let us through the veil of mist.”

  Mom poured loonies and toonies into Dad’s hand. He pulled up to the booth and held out his handful of ­coins.

  I gasped, then shrank back in my seat. The toll collector was that man from the gift shop! That’s when I knew for sure that something was wrong. Slowly he reached out his hand; Dad poured the coins into his palm. He rubbed them while he gave Dad a ­receipt.

  Maddy cheered. “Yes! It worked!”

  The man twitched, leaned down and peered into the van. I looked back as we drove off. He was staring at us, his ears curled forward, his face twisted in a horrible scowl. I felt sick to my stomach. Why was he following us? And how did he get to the toll booth ­first?

  I sketched the troll using one of my softest, darkest pencils. Then I drew the woman in the black cloak with a finer pencil, but I couldn’t get it right until I deepened some of the shadows. Then I slept, and dreamed of a troll reaching for ­me.

  Maddy woke me, cheering as we burst through Mom’s veil of mist in Kamloops. Even with the air conditioner on, I was soaked in sweat. Maddy had curled my fingers around a water bottle for my part of the magic. I guzzled the warm water, then splashed some on my forehead. I checked my watch and groaned – still twenty-five hours to ­home.

  The sun was blazing in a ­bleached-­out sky. I pulled on my sunglasses. How could the sun be brighter ­here?

  “Where’s the next veil?” Maddy ­asked.

  Mom thought about it for a minute. “I think it must be at the bridge crossing Shuswap Lake. Bridges and water are pretty powerful.”

  “What magic will we need?”

  “Shuswap Lake? How about fruit? We’ll stop at a fruit stand, and you and Josh can choose something to get us through the veil and feed us for supper.”

  I shook my head. Fruit is not magic. Water and rocks and even stone rings might be magical. But not ­apricots.

  By late afternoon we had reached the Shuswap. We found a fruit stand and stocked up. For magic, Maddy scooped up a handful of blueberries and handed me an apricot. Jus
t before we reached the bridge over Shuswap Lake, I took a huge bite out of ­it.

  “Josh!” Maddy complained. “We’ll be stuck if you don’t do it right!”

  I just ignored her. Soon we turned off the highway onto the winding road to the campground. Dad had been right; there was time for a swim before dinner. Maddy and I raced each other to the lake and splashed in. It was heavenly, cooling off after a long hot day. I lay on my back and floated, then jumped up with a start. What if that man followed us here? I kept watch after that, staying close to Maddy while she played, her red swimsuit gleaming in the ­sun.

  After a dinner of hot dogs, mosquitoes, fresh peas and apricots, we roasted marshmallows. When we were full and sticky, Maddy got ready for bed while Mom and I cleaned up. Then Mom sat reading by the fire while Dad read to Maddy in the tent, and I paced, tossing my rock from hand to ­hand.

  What if that man was still following us? He could sneak into the tent while we slept and – what would he do? I took a heavy flashlight to bed with ­me.

  I woke in the middle of the night to total blackness, my heart pounding. What had woken me? Then I heard it. Rustling. A stick snapping. I touched the wall of the tent. I could feel it vibrating. Someone was out ­there.

  I wiped the sweat off my hands, then grabbed the flashlight and held it tight. If it was that man, I’d smack him on the head. I lay staring at the door of the tent. I couldn’t see a thing. I jumped at a slow “zzzup,” the sound of the tent door zipper. I reached across Maddy to poke Dad with my left hand, and raised the flashlight in my right hand like a club. And then a train whistle rang out, startling me so badly I dropped the flashlight onto ­Maddy.

  I heard scrambling and a twig crack, then silence around the tent as the train roared past the campground. I grinned. I hated being woken by trains in the night, but not this night. None of us would sleep deeply enough for that man to sneak up on ­us.

  Maddy stirred. I whispered, “It’s just a train, Maddy. Everything’s all right.”

  Dad woke us at seven. Sunlight streamed through the tent door as he shook us. I yawned and stretched and checked my ­watch – ­only nine hours to home. I leapt out of bed and tugged on a blue striped ­t-­shirt, yesterday’s jeans, and my hoodie. It was warm enough for shorts, but I knew it would be cold later, in the mountains. Mom tidied Maddy’s pigtails and hurried her into jeans and a pink ­t-­shirt. I started stuffing sleeping bags with Dad, while Mom and Maddy cooked pancakes on the camp ­stove.

  There was no sign of the man as we worked, and once we were in the van, I relaxed a little. Soon we’d left the lakes and heat of the Shuswap and moved into mountains lined with dark ­forests.

  Mom planned the day’s magic. “I think the other veils of mist will be at the Giant Cedars Boardwalk, the Rogers Pass, and the Spiral Tunnels. Those are all places of great power. And the last one will be the Banff Viewpoint, because we’ll need a break by then.”

  I sat shaking my head. We always stop at those places. We should be called the “Same As Always” family. I was glad, though, when we pulled into the Giant Cedars parking lot. There’s a boardwalk that winds up into the cedar forest, then down again in a long series of stairs. It’s dark and ­mysterious.

  It had just rained, so the air was cool and the picnic table wet. Mom dried it while Dad set out lunch. As soon as we’d eaten and packed away the leftovers, we headed for the wooden steps into the forest. Maddy dashed up the stairs, and I ran after her, still watching for that man. I made sure we didn’t get too far ahead of Mom and ­Dad.

  The steps wound up and up, with little landings in between, through a forest of trees so tall I couldn’t see their tops, and trunks bigger around than I could reach. We heard a murmur, then a roar, of water. A stream rushed between rocks, trickled through a ­log-­jam, then plunged down a ­waterfall.

  We walked on, the boardwalk squeezing between trees. The clouds had broken up enough to let sunlight into the forest in gleaming lines. Maddy laid her cheek against the bark of a cedar tree where it was rubbed smooth by people’s hands. Her hair shone gold against the deep red of the bark. My fingers itched to pull out my new watercolour paints and match the ­colours.

  Mom and Dad passed us on the landing at the top of the boardwalk, holding hands and talking. I tried to get Maddy to keep up, but she dawdled, looking at trail signs, and when we finally headed down, a huge group of tourists was surging up the stairs. I plunged into the crowd, dragging Maddy behind me. Finally, we eased our way past and dashed down the steps. We leapt out of the forest into the picnic area. Mom and Dad weren’t ­there.

  “Maybe they went back in, looking for us,” Maddy ­said.

  We ran into the forest the way we’d come out, racing up the stairs, squeezing past the tour group, then leaping down the steps on the other side. We came back to the deserted picnic table, ­puzzled.

  “Maybe they went to the bathroom and there was a lineup. Come on, Maddy. You know Dad.”

  They weren’t at the bathroom. We wandered back to the picnic table. Still not there. “Maybe they’re at the van,” I ­said.

  We crossed the road, ­searching.

  “There,” cried Maddy. “They’re leaving. They’re leaving without us!”

  Our van was pulling out of the parking spot. We raced after it, screaming, “stop, stop!” and waving our arms. Mom and Dad didn’t even glance around. They just drove off, looking ­dazed.

  Chapter Three

  As Ugly As A Troll

  Maddy and I stood in the road, stunned. How could they leave without us? Maddy started to ­cry.

  I hugged her, then stiffened. “Maddy,” I whispered. “Look. That man. He’s here!”

  The man from the gift shop stood in the shadows by the boardwalk. He was grinning, a look much uglier than his scowl. We stared at ­him.

  “Your parents won’t be back,” he announced. “Unless you give me that ring. Then I’ll bring them back.”

  I glanced down at the ring on Maddy’s finger. I couldn’t believe what he’d said. How could he make people go away, and then bring them ­back?

  Maddy yelled at him, “They’ll come back. They won’t leave us!”

  “They just did! They think you’re sitting in the back seats. I put two Shadows there. They look just like you, only they’re a lot quieter.”

  “Shadows?” My voice squeaked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Little pretend children. Very quiet. No trouble at all. And Shadows make people uneasy, so no one looks too closely. Your parents won’t notice a thing.”

  Maddy slipped her hand into mine. I looked down at her; her eyes were huge and dark in her suddenly pale face. She whispered, “Josh, I’m scared. I want to go home.”

  Me too. I squeezed her hand. “It’ll be okay, Maddy. I’ll get you home. I promise.” I turned to the man. “If we give you the ring, will you bring back our parents and leave us alone?”

  He nodded, then reached out for the ring, fingers twitching.

  “Josh, I don’t think we should,” Maddy ­whispered.

  “What?”

  “I don’t like him. I don’t think we should do anything he says.”

  “But don’t you want to get back to Mom and Dad?”

  “Yes, of course. But I don’t think we should give him the ring.”

  The man stood, hand outstretched, scowling. Maddy scowled ­back.

  “Maddy, we have to get back to Mom and Dad. Give him the ring!”

  “I can’t, Josh. It feels all wrong. I just can’t do it.”

  “Maddy!” I wanted to tear the ring off her finger and fling it at the troll. What was her problem? A soft voice behind us made me ­jump.

  “Maybe I can help.”

  Maddy and I turned and stared. The tall woman from the gift shop stood behind us, cloak swaying in the ­breeze.

  “You were on the ferry yesterday,” said ­Maddy.

  “Yes,” she said. “I can help you with this troll.”

  “What do you mean?�
� I said. “He’s as ugly as a troll, but he’s not really one.”

  “No?” She raised her left hand, palm towards the man, and wiped in a circle, like she was cleaning a mirror. “There. Now take a look.”

  Slowly, the man’s face shifted. His nose grew larger and lumpier, his ears bigger, his skin rough. His body shifted too, becoming squat and lumpy. He looked meaner than ever. My stomach curled up on itself. Definitely a ­troll.

  He glared at the woman. “Witch!”

  She laughed, her dark eyebrows curving like wings. Even though she was wearing black, she didn’t look like a witch. She looked more like a dancer, graceful in her long cloak, with her hair tied up at the back of her neck. Except, when I looked closer, I realized she was a little strange, not quite human, ­somehow.

  She knelt by Maddy. “My name is Aleena.” She gestured at the troll. “He wants your ring.”

  “Why?” Maddy asked ­softly.

  “He uses it to travel, to steal gold. You mustn’t give it to him!”

  “But what should we do? Mommy and Daddy have left without us.”

  “I can help,” Aleena answered. “I can take you to a place the troll can’t go, and I can get you back to your parents.”

  “We’re not supposed to go anywhere with strangers,” Maddy ­said.

  “Parents aren’t supposed to drive off without their kids, either,” I muttered. What should we do? Dad would say, “Use your head.” But my head didn’t know whether it was worse to leave with a stranger, or to stay with a troll. Mom would say, “Listen to your intuition, Josh.” I tried, but all I heard was a voice screaming, “I don’t know what to do!”

  I had to pick something, and the troll was giving me the creeps. I took a deep breath. “Maddy, if you won’t give your ring to the troll, I think we need to leave with Aleena.”