doorways.
She returned followed by six people, three men and three women, different shapes and sizes and hair colors, dressed in varied clothes. They spread out near the center of the cavern in a ragged circle.
“Is Loostra ready to come through?” Harper asked.
Gwenda nodded, then stood beside Maya. She gripped her own elbows and hunched her shoulders.
The newcomers spread their arms wide. A low hum sounded, making the ground thrum under their feet. The people sang, softly at first, a melody that almost repeated but didn’t quite, each time a variation on the time before. They started in unison, and then they split into a multistrand harmony, and the song grew louder. The hum under their feet rose, louder and a little higher, and a streak of fluttering, glowing red appeared in the air in the center of the cavern, within the circle of the portal team. A sheet of green shimmered into sight, followed by a panel of lavender, then orange, blue, yellow-green, scarves and scoops of glowing colored light, weaving around each other, growing denser, curtains and waterfalls and skies of color.
Reflected light danced over the walls. Pale spirals and circles glinted in the smooth, glassy surface of the floor. The air smelled like the scent after a lightning strike, and, inexplicably, like violets, but most strongly of carnation and cinnamon.
Maya slid her pack off and grabbed her notebook and a pencil, then just stood there. This was the most amazing thing she had ever seen, but what could she do about it? Oh, Steph, if only—
No way could she capture this without colors. She leaned forward and set her mind on Memorize.
“What is that?” she murmured.
“ This is the portal,” Benjamin whispered.
The hum rose again, the song reached a high chord, all the colored light brightened toward white, and then—
Something long, pale, and jointed scuttled from the center of the ragged rip in the air.
FIFTEEN
One end of it rose up. It had hundreds of small jointed legs fringing its sides. It was flatter than a snake, and it had many body segments. It looked more like a humongous centipede than anything else.
“Wha—wha—wha—” Travis gasped.
Maya clutched Gwenda’s arm and tried to drag her toward the door.
Gwenda didn’t budge. “Wait,” she said.
The top of the thing’s body waved in the air. It had six longer limbs at that end, each jointed three times, below a bulging, rounded head. The longer legs curled and unfurled as the portal faded behind it.
A moment later, the cavern was just a cavern again. Plus a giant centipede.
The six people who had conjured up the portal lowered their arms.
Nobody was running away.
The centipede’s six long limbs wove gracefully through the air until they all pointed toward Maya. Then they stopped.
“Fetch it,” said the centipede. It sounded female.
“Child,” said Harper. “Come.”
“You’re—what? You’re—” She didn’t even know what to ask. A crazy image of Peter trying to find a jar big enough to hold this creature flashed through her mind.
“Come,” Harper said again, in that creepy voice that made her obey, and she walked unwillingly toward the enormous centipede, fear knotting her stomach. Was it going to eat her? Was that how they solved their problems?
“Just a danged minute,” said Travis. He came up behind Maya, put his arms around her chest, and lifted her off the ground. Her feet kept walking on air, her heels knocking into his shins. “Somebody tell us this thing is safe!”
“I will not harm you,” the centipede said. Its voice sounded warm and comforting, like the best mother in the world. “On the lives of my three hundred children I swear it.”
Gwenda said, “It’s Loostra,” as though that explained everything. “She never hurts people.”
“Take the whammy off Maya anyway, and let her get there by herself,” said Travis.
There was heat at Maya’s left wrist. A shiver ran through her, and her legs stopped kicking.
She returned followed by six people, three men and three women, different shapes and sizes and hair colors, dressed in varied clothes. They spread out near the center of the cavern in a ragged circle.
“Is Loostra ready to come through?” Harper asked.
Gwenda nodded, then stood beside Maya. She gripped her own elbows and hunched her shoulders.
The newcomers spread their arms wide. A low hum sounded, making the ground thrum under their feet. The people sang, softly at first, a melody that almost repeated but didn’t quite, each time a variation on the time before. They started in unison, and then they split into a multistrand harmony, and the song grew louder. The hum under their feet rose, louder and a little higher, and a streak of fluttering, glowing red appeared in the air in the center of the cavern, within the circle of the portal team. A sheet of green shimmered into sight, followed by a panel of lavender, then orange, blue, yellow-green, scarves and scoops of glowing colored light, weaving around each other, growing denser, curtains and waterfalls and skies of color.
Reflected light danced over the walls. Pale spirals and circles glinted in the smooth, glassy surface of the floor. The air smelled like the scent after a lightning strike, and, inexplicably, like violets, but most strongly of carnation and cinnamon.
Maya slid her pack off and grabbed her notebook and a pencil, then just stood there. This was the most amazing thing she had ever seen, but what could she do about it? Oh, Steph, if only—
No way could she capture this without colors. She leaned forward and set her mind on Memorize.
“What is that?” she murmured.
“ This is the portal,” Benjamin whispered.
The hum rose again, the song reached a high chord, all the colored light brightened toward white, and then—
Something long, pale, and jointed scuttled from the center of the ragged rip in the air.
FIFTEEN
One end of it rose up. It had hundreds of small jointed legs fringing its sides. It was flatter than a snake, and it had many body segments. It looked more like a humongous centipede than anything else.
“Wha—wha—wha—” Travis gasped.
Maya clutched Gwenda’s arm and tried to drag her toward the door.
Gwenda didn’t budge. “Wait,” she said.
The top of the thing’s body waved in the air. It had six longer limbs at that end, each jointed three times, below a bulging, rounded head. The longer legs curled and unfurled as the portal faded behind it.
A moment later, the cavern was just a cavern again. Plus a giant centipede.
The six people who had conjured up the portal lowered their arms.
Nobody was running away.
The centipede’s six long limbs wove gracefully through the air until they all pointed toward Maya. Then they stopped.
“Fetch it,” said the centipede. It sounded female.
“Child,” said Harper. “Come.”
“You’re—what? You’re—” She didn’t even know what to ask. A crazy image of Peter trying to find a jar big enough to hold this creature flashed through her mind.
“Come,” Harper said again, in that creepy voice that made her obey, and she walked unwillingly toward the enormous centipede, fear knotting her stomach. Was it going to eat her? Was that how they solved their problems?
“Just a danged minute,” said Travis. He came up behind Maya, put his arms around her chest, and lifted her off the ground. Her feet kept walking on air, her heels knocking into his shins. “Somebody tell us this thing is safe!”
“I will not harm you,” the centipede said. Its voice sounded warm and comforting, like the best mother in the world. “On the lives of my three hundred children I swear it.”
Gwenda said, “It’s Loostra,” as though that explained everything. “She never hurts people.”
“Take the whammy off Maya anyway, and let her get there by herself,” said Travis.
There was heat at Maya’s left wrist. A shiver ran through her, and her legs stopped kicking.
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