Beautiful Darkness(97)

And their maps, fortunately for us.

“They're not close ta done. I was a real draftswoman in my day, but my bursitis got the best a me.”

“I tried to help, but I don't have the knack for it, like your aunt.” Thelma looked apologetic. Aunt Prue waved her handkerchief.

“You drew these?”

“I drew my share.” She pushed on her cane, straightening with pride.

Liv stared at the maps in awe. “How? The Tunnels are absolutely endless.”

“An itty bit at a time. Those maps don't show all a the Tunnels. The Carolinas mostly, and some a Georgia. That's ’bout as far as we got.” It was unbelievable. How could my scattered aunt have drafted maps of the Caster Tunnels?

“How did you do this without Aunt Grace and Aunt Mercy finding out?” I couldn't remember a time when the three of them weren't so close, they were bumping into each other.

“We didn't always live together, Ethan.” She lowered her voice, as if Aunt Mercy and Aunt Grace might be listening. “And I don't really play bridge on Thursdays.” I tried to imagine Aunt Prue charting the Caster Tunnels while the other elderly members of the DAR played cards at the church social hall.

“Take ’em. I reckon you'll need ’em if you're fixin’ ta stay down here. Gets real confusin’ after a while. Some days I'd get myself so turned around, I could barely get myself back ta South Carolina.”

“Thanks, Aunt Prue. But —” I stopped. I didn't know how to explain it all — the Arclight and the visions, Lena and John Breed and the Great Barrier, the moon out of time and the missing star, not to mention the crazy dials spinning on Liv's wrist. Least of all, Sarafine and Abraham. It wasn't a story for one of the oldest citizens in Gatlin.

Aunt Prue cut me off with a wave of her handkerchief in my face. “Y'all are as lost as a hog at a pig pick. Unless you wanna be slapped on a bun with Carolina Gold, you best pay attention.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I thought I knew right where this particular lecture was headed. But I was as wrong as Savannah Snow wearing a sleeveless dress and chewing gum at youth choir.

“Now you listen up, ya hear?” She pointed her bony finger at me. “Carlton came sniffin’ around ta see what I knew ’bout someone breakin’ inta the Caster door at the fairgrounds. Next thing I hear, that Duchannes girl is missin’, you and Wesley have run off, and that girl stayin’ with Marian — you know, the one who puts milk in her tea — is nowhere ta be seen. Seems ta me that's one too many coincidences, even for Gatlin.”

Big surprise there. Carlton spreading the news.

“Whatever it is, you need these, and I want you ta take ’em. I don't have time for all this nonsense.” I guessed right. She knew what we were doing, whether she let on or not.

“I sure appreciate your concern, Aunt Prue.”

“I ain't concerned. Not so long as you take the maps.” She patted my hand. “Ya'll are gonna find that gold-eyed Lena Duchannes. Even a blind squirrel sometimes finds himself a nut.”

“I hope so, ma'am.”

Aunt Prue patted my hand and took hold of her cane. “Then you better stop talkin’ ta old ladies and meet that trouble halfway, so there'll only be half as much. Good Lord willin’ and the creek don't rise.” She steered Thelma away from us.

Lucille ran along behind them for a minute, the bell on her collar jingling. Aunt Prue stopped and smiled. “See you still got that cat. I was waitin’ for the right time ta let her offa that clothesline. She knows a trick or two. You'll see. You still got her tag, don't ya?”

“Yes, ma'am. It's in my pocket.”

“Needs one a those rings to fix it on her collar. But you hold on ta it, and I'll get ya one.” Aunt Prue unwrapped another peppermint and dropped it on the ground for Lucille. “I'm real sorry I called you a deserter, ole girl, but you know Mercy'd never have let me give you up otherwise.”

Lucille sniffed the peppermint.

Thelma waved and smiled her big Dolly Parton smile. “Good luck, Sweet Meat.”

I watched them walk down the hill behind us, wondering what else I didn't know about the people in my family. Who else seemed senile and clueless, but was actually watching my every move? Who else was protecting Caster Scrolls and secrets in their spare time or mapping a world most of Gatlin didn't know existed?

Lucille licked the peppermint. If she knew, she wasn't talking.

“Okay, so we've got a map. That's gotta be something, right, MJ?” Link's mood improved after Aunt Prue and Thelma disappeared down the path.

“Liv?” She didn't hear me. She was flipping pages in her notebook with one hand and tracing a pathway across the map with the other.

“Here's Charleston, and this must be Savannah. So if you assume the Arclight has been helping us find the southern pathway, toward the coast …”

“Why the coast?” I interrupted.

“Due south. As if we were following the Southern Star, remember?” Liv sat back, frustrated. “There are so many branching pathways. We're only a few hours from the Savannah Doorwell, but that could mean anything down here.” She was right. If time and physics didn't directly correspond above and below the ground, who was to say we weren't in China by now?