One Salt Sea
Page 85
“Figures,” I said, and focused on the road.
We were making the trip out of San Francisco at record speed, even for me, and whatever she’d used on the car was much better than an invisibility charm or a don’t-look-here. I didn’t even have to avoid the few other drivers who had somehow managed to avoid the Luidaeg’s misdirection charms and stay on the main roads. They just never happened to be where we needed to be next.
The Luidaeg’s presence was definitely making Connor uncomfortable. He sat, straight-backed, and watched the road ahead of us like he was counting down the miles to his own execution. An air of palpable tension was settling over the car, getting stronger with every minute that passed. We were moving toward a conclusion.
I saw a few cars after we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin, but the road ahead of us remained as open as ever. I was doing seventy when the phone rang. “Oh, thorns,” I swore, fumbling it out of my pocket and flipping it open with one hand. “Hello?”
“Tobes, hey. I tried what you said. This a bad time?”
“You shouldn’t be on the phone while you’re driving,” said Connor. “It’s against the law.” He sounded faintly alarmed—less, I think, because I was breaking the law, and more because I wasn’t slowing down to compensate for splitting my attention.
I would have needed a third hand to flip him off. I settled for hitting the gas a little harder, and watching him go pale.
“No, Danny, this is a great time,” I said. “We’re on the way to Muir Woods now. Did you get anything out of the rocks?”
“You’re already on the way to Muir Woods? What are you, psychic?”
“No, impatient.” I shook my head, trying to clear away the image of Bucer’s wide, frightened eyes. “What did they tell you?”
“Three of the rocks recognized the smell of redwood—said they missed the big trees. One of ’em also said it missed the water, so I put it in the sink.” He sounded exceedingly pleased with himself as he continued, “They like the environmental cues.”
“Good. Did they give you any other details? Anything we can use?”
“The smallest one remembered redwoods an’ cars. Used to be at the edge of a parking lot. Apparently, it got picked up and put down again by a whole lotta kids, so it remembered Raysel real clear. She was the first one that didn’t put it back.” Danny hesitated. “I, uh, promised I’d put it back when we were done. Is that okay?”
“I’m not going to make you break your word to a rock, Danny.”
“Oh, good,” he said, relieved. “I didn’t think you would. Anyway, second one remembered water, third one remembered bein’ pulled out of the ground.”
“Great,” I said, heart sinking. The first two rocks were useful. The third . . . how many rocks came out of the ground? All of them, that’s how many. “This is very helpful, Danny.”
“No, no, you don’t get it! It remembers bein’ pulled out of the ground, but it wasn’t bottom-down, like in a trail or something!” Danny raised his voice in his excitement, words booming into the cabin. I winced, holding the phone away from my ear. “She pried it out of a wall, a mud wall. Like you get where a trail’s been cut, you know?”
“So she picked up one rock at the entrance, one rock from a stream, and one rock from the side of a trail?” I brought the phone back to my ear. “Did you get anything else?”
“Not really,” said Danny. “Rocks aren’t so good with time, and everything else they had to say was about how much they don’t like the shape stuff’s been in since the big shake.”
“The big shake?” I asked blankly. “What the hell are they talking about?”
“The earthquake in nineteen-oh-six,” said the Luidaeg. She leaned forward, close enough to the phone for Danny to hear her when she asked, “Did the rocks say they cried when the towers fell?”
“What—” I began.
Danny’s answer cut me off: “Yeah, they did. You know what that means? Who is this, anyway?”
“It’s a pleasure to finally get the chance to speak with you, Mr. McReady. You can call me the Luidaeg.”
Silence fell on Danny’s end of the line. Looking amused, the Luidaeg sank back into her seat. Finally, Danny asked, “Toby? Was that really the sea witch just there? On the phone? Talking to me?”
“Yeah, Danny, it was. She’s not wearing a seat belt, either.” I shot a sharp look at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked quietly amused. “Call if you get anything else out of those rocks, okay? We’re almost to Muir Woods. I’m going to need both hands if we don’t want to drive off the edge of a cliff.”
“Open roads, and I’ll call.”
“Good. Hug the Barghests for me.” I couldn’t thank him, and so I just hung up, handing the phone to Connor as I turned my focus back to the road. The closer we got to Muir Woods, the less developed the land around us became. Housing developments and strip malls had already given way to half-hidden private driveways and tiny general stores with rickety wooden porches. The smell of the redwoods was seeping in through the vents, filling the entire car with the living green memory of something older and cleaner than the modern human world.
The lack of human development also meant a lack of concern among the local wildlife. Wild turkeys casually strutted along beside the road, their scrawny brown chests fluffed out like little avian gangsters. We startled a pair of deer as we came around a blind curve in the road, and I hit the brakes just in time to keep from getting Bambi pâté all over the windshield.
“Whoa,” said Quentin.
“My thoughts exactly.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Everyone all right back there?”
The Luidaeg, who was still not wearing a seat belt, didn’t look like our sudden stop had perturbed her in the least. “Fine,” she said. “Keep driving.”
I kept driving, more slowly now that we were on the treacherous roads marking the final approach to Muir Woods.
The Muir Woods National Monument was established to protect one of the last old-growth redwood forests in the state of California. It’s kept open to the public, as much to remind them why the forest is important as for any other reason. “These used to be everywhere in California,” said Connor suddenly. “Just about this whole part of the state was redwoods.”
We were making the trip out of San Francisco at record speed, even for me, and whatever she’d used on the car was much better than an invisibility charm or a don’t-look-here. I didn’t even have to avoid the few other drivers who had somehow managed to avoid the Luidaeg’s misdirection charms and stay on the main roads. They just never happened to be where we needed to be next.
The Luidaeg’s presence was definitely making Connor uncomfortable. He sat, straight-backed, and watched the road ahead of us like he was counting down the miles to his own execution. An air of palpable tension was settling over the car, getting stronger with every minute that passed. We were moving toward a conclusion.
I saw a few cars after we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin, but the road ahead of us remained as open as ever. I was doing seventy when the phone rang. “Oh, thorns,” I swore, fumbling it out of my pocket and flipping it open with one hand. “Hello?”
“Tobes, hey. I tried what you said. This a bad time?”
“You shouldn’t be on the phone while you’re driving,” said Connor. “It’s against the law.” He sounded faintly alarmed—less, I think, because I was breaking the law, and more because I wasn’t slowing down to compensate for splitting my attention.
I would have needed a third hand to flip him off. I settled for hitting the gas a little harder, and watching him go pale.
“No, Danny, this is a great time,” I said. “We’re on the way to Muir Woods now. Did you get anything out of the rocks?”
“You’re already on the way to Muir Woods? What are you, psychic?”
“No, impatient.” I shook my head, trying to clear away the image of Bucer’s wide, frightened eyes. “What did they tell you?”
“Three of the rocks recognized the smell of redwood—said they missed the big trees. One of ’em also said it missed the water, so I put it in the sink.” He sounded exceedingly pleased with himself as he continued, “They like the environmental cues.”
“Good. Did they give you any other details? Anything we can use?”
“The smallest one remembered redwoods an’ cars. Used to be at the edge of a parking lot. Apparently, it got picked up and put down again by a whole lotta kids, so it remembered Raysel real clear. She was the first one that didn’t put it back.” Danny hesitated. “I, uh, promised I’d put it back when we were done. Is that okay?”
“I’m not going to make you break your word to a rock, Danny.”
“Oh, good,” he said, relieved. “I didn’t think you would. Anyway, second one remembered water, third one remembered bein’ pulled out of the ground.”
“Great,” I said, heart sinking. The first two rocks were useful. The third . . . how many rocks came out of the ground? All of them, that’s how many. “This is very helpful, Danny.”
“No, no, you don’t get it! It remembers bein’ pulled out of the ground, but it wasn’t bottom-down, like in a trail or something!” Danny raised his voice in his excitement, words booming into the cabin. I winced, holding the phone away from my ear. “She pried it out of a wall, a mud wall. Like you get where a trail’s been cut, you know?”
“So she picked up one rock at the entrance, one rock from a stream, and one rock from the side of a trail?” I brought the phone back to my ear. “Did you get anything else?”
“Not really,” said Danny. “Rocks aren’t so good with time, and everything else they had to say was about how much they don’t like the shape stuff’s been in since the big shake.”
“The big shake?” I asked blankly. “What the hell are they talking about?”
“The earthquake in nineteen-oh-six,” said the Luidaeg. She leaned forward, close enough to the phone for Danny to hear her when she asked, “Did the rocks say they cried when the towers fell?”
“What—” I began.
Danny’s answer cut me off: “Yeah, they did. You know what that means? Who is this, anyway?”
“It’s a pleasure to finally get the chance to speak with you, Mr. McReady. You can call me the Luidaeg.”
Silence fell on Danny’s end of the line. Looking amused, the Luidaeg sank back into her seat. Finally, Danny asked, “Toby? Was that really the sea witch just there? On the phone? Talking to me?”
“Yeah, Danny, it was. She’s not wearing a seat belt, either.” I shot a sharp look at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked quietly amused. “Call if you get anything else out of those rocks, okay? We’re almost to Muir Woods. I’m going to need both hands if we don’t want to drive off the edge of a cliff.”
“Open roads, and I’ll call.”
“Good. Hug the Barghests for me.” I couldn’t thank him, and so I just hung up, handing the phone to Connor as I turned my focus back to the road. The closer we got to Muir Woods, the less developed the land around us became. Housing developments and strip malls had already given way to half-hidden private driveways and tiny general stores with rickety wooden porches. The smell of the redwoods was seeping in through the vents, filling the entire car with the living green memory of something older and cleaner than the modern human world.
The lack of human development also meant a lack of concern among the local wildlife. Wild turkeys casually strutted along beside the road, their scrawny brown chests fluffed out like little avian gangsters. We startled a pair of deer as we came around a blind curve in the road, and I hit the brakes just in time to keep from getting Bambi pâté all over the windshield.
“Whoa,” said Quentin.
“My thoughts exactly.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Everyone all right back there?”
The Luidaeg, who was still not wearing a seat belt, didn’t look like our sudden stop had perturbed her in the least. “Fine,” she said. “Keep driving.”
I kept driving, more slowly now that we were on the treacherous roads marking the final approach to Muir Woods.
The Muir Woods National Monument was established to protect one of the last old-growth redwood forests in the state of California. It’s kept open to the public, as much to remind them why the forest is important as for any other reason. “These used to be everywhere in California,” said Connor suddenly. “Just about this whole part of the state was redwoods.”
