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That was about the longest anecdote Grandma X had ever told about anyone, and the twins waited intently to see if there was any more to come.
Instead, she just indicated the car. “Let’s move on to the next ward. I think you’ll find it even more interesting than this one.”
That was enough to distract Jack. “Oh, yeah — if this is the Someone Dead Ward, that means the last one is Growing!”
“Do you still think we have a giant in Portland?” Grandma X said with a smile.
“I hope so.”
Jaide was not so easily deflected. “Why will you talk about Hester Bright but won’t you tell us anything about Lottie?”
Grandma X concentrated on driving for a moment, pulling out from the curve and heading up Main Street. When she did speak, she did so without looking at either twin, and her voice had an emotional tremor that Jaide had never heard before.
“The life of a Warden isn’t an easy one. On that night, I lost my sister and my father. Later, I lost Harold and your grandfather. Then Harold came back, and I had to let go of him again. The same might happen with Lottie. You can imagine how this must feel — I can’t stop you doing that, but I can spare you anything more. You are young, Jaidith and Jackaran. Worry about the future. Leave the old to deal with the past.”
At the hospital, they turned into the beach parking lot. Jaide said nothing as Grandma X brought the car to a halt. The sun was going down, and a family of five with two very young children was packing up picnic gear and heading home from a day on the beach. They looked so amazingly normal. Jack wondered if that was how he and his family looked to other people. Probably not, he thought, given the number of times people’s memories had to be tweaked to stop the secret getting out. Jack and Jaide weren’t normal. Normal people didn’t have to deal with uncles who almost got them killed or great-aunts trapped in an Evil Dimension.
Jaide didn’t notice the family of five. She was thinking about Lottie. Grandma X had to be doing something to save her sister, or how could she live with herself?
“Come on,” said Grandma X, opening her door and swinging her cowboy boots out of the car. “It’s time to meet Angel.”
In silence, the twins followed their grandmother across the walking trail and onto the rocky promontory named after a mermaid’s tail, because that was what it resembled on a map. They had walked here before, but this time, after their exposure to the Someone Dead Ward, their senses were attuned to the presence of anything unusual, and both of them felt a powerful force radiating from the stones underfoot.
Grandma X took them to a particular cluster of rocks that from a distance looked like a woman lying on her side, sleeping. Each stone was larger than a car, and two stones lying on their ends towered over them like monoliths. Jack, with the beginnings of his new Gift making him more sensitive to earth and stone, had never sensed anything like it. He half expected the boulders to leap up and squash him at any moment.
“Giants don’t talk like we do,” Grandma X said, affectionately patting the side of one of the stones. “If you took a bag and filled it with gravel and scrunched it around a bit, that’s what their language sounds like. But they can learn to rapport if a Warden is patient enough to listen. Sometimes they take human names. Thus it is with Angel, who has been a ward of Portland for one hundred and fifty years, a tiny portion of her incredible life. To us, she is sleeping. To Angel, she is merely resting. And growing all the while. Giants start off very small, little more than pebbles. As they grow, they get larger and more dangerous, like avalanches. The really old ones are as big as mountains, but luckily they rarely wake. Many of the world’s worst earthquakes are actually giants turning over in their sleep.”
Jaide was willing to be impressed. “Have you ever spoken to her?”
“Only once, when your father was fighting in the Pacific. They were dealing with giants, and Angel’s advice was critical in turning back The Evil. Then she went back to sleep. Sometimes I can feel her dreaming. The images are … unusual.”
Jack put his hand next to Grandma X’s.
“Nice to meet you, Angel,” he said, not feeling the slightest bit awkward about talking to what looked to the naked eye like nothing more than inert stone. “I hope we get to talk one day.”
There came a faint creaking sound, as though the mighty boulder had shifted slightly, and a seagull perched on top took off with a squawk. There was no other sign that the giant had heard.
Grandma X looked at Jaide to see if she wanted to say something, but she was happy to let Jack do all the talking. Her powers came from the wind and the sun. Heavy rocks like these might kill her if ever she lost control and fell on them.
“We should get back,” she said. “Mom’s off to work in the morning. She’s probably got something special planned for dinner.”
Jack’s stomach growled at the thought of food. It seemed like days since lunch.
“Here’s hoping it’s takeout again,” he said.
“Kyle and Tara are joining us for dinner,” Grandma X said. “I think the plan is for Stefano to cook.”
“Stefano?” Jaide exclaimed. “But he’s —”
“A boy? Too young?” Grandma X seemed to take great pleasure in Jaide’s alarm. “You never know; he might be a good cook. And it seems only fair that he does something around the house, since he’s not on the dishwashing roster.”
Not for the first time Jack wondered if their grandmother also had the Gift of reading minds. They had only been complaining to Tara about Stefano and the dishwashing roster the day before. Maybe she had said something. Maybe that was why she was invited to dinner as well.
Grandma X put an arm around each of them, and together they headed back to the car. Behind them, the boulder shifted again, and from a distance it might have seemed that a great stony head lifted, just for a moment, to regard the troubletwisters as they walked away.
On the way past the school they noticed a large tent being erected at one end of the oval.
“That was fast,” said Jack. The Portland Council wasn’t renowned for moving quickly. It had recently spent three months arguing about the apostrophe on the sign saying FOUNDER’S PARK. “That’ll be up days ahead of the soccer match.”
“That’s not for the match,” said Grandma X. “That’s Project Thunderclap.”
“Here?” asked Jack. “In Portland?”
“Yes. The fabric of our dimension has been greatly weakened here, thanks to the many incursions by The Evil in recent times, plus your own tinkering with a Bifrost Bridge in Rourke Castle. Aleksandr reasons — correctly, I think — that this will make it easier for us to strike the very heart of The Evil.”
The twins examined the tent with more interest, craning to look over their shoulders as it receded behind them. There was no sign of Aleksandr or any other Wardens they knew, but that didn’t mean anything.
“What is Project Thunderclap?” asked Jaide. “Why’s it such a big secret?”
“It’s not a secret, except from ordinary people. You were simply absent from the meeting at that point. Project Thunderclap draws on some of Professor Olafsson’s later work, which suggests that the breaches between worlds can be closed by the right application of electricity. What Thunderclap hopes to do is channel enough power into the realm of The Evil so that it will permanently separate from our world, making us safe forever.”
“How are they going to get enough power?” asked Jack, fascinated. “With a nuclear reactor?”
Grandma X sniffed disdainfully. “Nothing so ordinary. Aleksandr has recruited every lightning wielder alive today, and a few relics of those who died long ago, to combine forces and put his plan into action.”
Jaide felt her skin tingle at the thought. One lightning bolt on its own was the most powerful thing she had ever experienced. She couldn’t imagine what many combined would be like. As a potential lightning wielder herself, she wondered if she would be asked to be part of it.
Then she thought of Stefano, and was su
re his extra practice was designed to bring his own abilities up to speed for Thunderclap. That she wasn’t receiving that tuition suggested she was going to be left out because she was too inexperienced. Unless she could somehow prove herself …
“When is it going to happen?” she asked.
“Thursday,” said Grandma X.
“This Thursday?” said Jack.
“The very one.”
“But that’s not enough time!” he said. Jaide was thinking exactly the same thing.
“For what, Jackaran?”
“For you to rescue Lottie, of course. You are going to, aren’t you?”
“I gave my solemn promise to Aleksandr,” Grandma X said. “You heard me tell him that I wouldn’t attempt a rescue. And I never break my promises. You should know that by now.”
Both twins were puzzled and even somewhat hurt by her continued insistence that she was going to abandon Lottie to her fate. Grandma X put such great store in doing the right thing. What were they supposed to do now, when it seemed like she was doing the wrong thing? Not just her, but all the Wardens.
The Austin 1600 pulled into the lane and delivered the twins to the front step. They climbed out, moping, some of their excitement at being entrusted with the details of the wards of Portland undermined by Lottie’s predicament. If only, thought Jack, they could find the cross-continuum conduit constructor and make their own way across. And if Jaide was part of Project Thunderclap, she reasoned, she might learn more about their plans and get the jump on them. Both possibilities seemed incredibly unlikely.
As they stepped into the house, a powerful smell struck them.
“Wow,” said Jaide. “What’s that?”
“It’s food,” said Ari, hurrying to greet them. “Real food.”
Jack’s stomach had taken command of his body from his brain and was already leading him into the kitchen.
“It had better be,” he said, hoping it wasn’t some kind of cruel trick.
In the kitchen they found Stefano and Susan bending over the stove top, stirring a large pot, the source of the incredible smell. Tara and Kyle were sitting at the table, pretending to do homework but actually totally distracted by the cooking taking place nearby. Kleo was watching from the windowsill, eyes following the spoon from side to side as though hypnotized.
“Just like that,” Stefano was explaining. “Not too fast, but not too slow, either. The important thing with a risotto is never to walk away. Arborio rice is unforgiving.”
