The Storm Makers

  “If it spins for Simon now,” Ruby whispered to Daisy, “won’t London just try it anyway when he comes back?”

  “It only spins once every four years, and only for the person who’s meant to have the title,” she said, her eyes on Otis, who was still speaking to the group. “Always has. Always will. And the compass always has the final word.”

  “You’re all great Storm Makers,” Otis was saying. “And this is one of our oldest and proudest traditions. We may have abandoned some of the rest in recent years, but this one remains.”

  With that, he pulled open the door, which led down a narrow corridor, dark but for a few lamps scattered on either side. Simon was about to step through, but Otis held him back, guiding him so that they were both standing beside the doorway. Ruby looked to Daisy to see whether they were supposed to wait, too, but she was already moving through the entrance, and so with one last encouraging glance at Simon, she followed Daisy into the passageway.

  Everyone was silent as they made their way down the long corridor. There was only the whistle of fabric, the pulsing breath of the crowd at their backs, the electric fizz of the dimly lit lamps. At some point, after they’d been walking for what felt like a long time, Daisy dodged sharply to the left. Ruby almost missed the turnoff, but the rest of the group moved seamlessly through the archway, as if they’d done it a thousand times before. By the time Ruby caught up, Daisy was turning the oversized handle on a heavy metal door, sending ripples of excitement through the crowd, everyone murmuring as they filed inside.

  Ruby wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. In the center of a perfectly rounded room, almost like an arena, stood the most enormous compass she’d ever seen. It was the size of a grand piano, but entirely circular and trimmed in gold, the needle pointing in the direction of the door, due north. There was nothing around it, nothing to distract from its simple beauty, and as the others edged toward the back, making room for more, Ruby stepped forward to take a closer look.

  She breathed in as she approached. For the briefest moment, she allowed herself to imagine it spinning for her, the long red needle under the heavy pane of glass following as she made her circle. She felt almost dizzy at the idea of it, the notion that she might be the one with the power, the one to be chosen, the one who would change everything. But even as she stood there, a hand on the cool rim, she knew it was silly to even pretend. It wasn’t her. Of course it wasn’t her. As she walked back over to stand beside Daisy, the needle remained absolutely still.

  Soon, the last of the members of the Society had found their places around the edges of the room, and the brown-black walls seemed to fold everyone in.

  “Why is it so…?” Ruby whispered to Daisy, who smiled.

  “Simple?” she asked. “Because it’s a weatherproof room.”

  Ruby’s eyes traveled from the floor to the ceiling. There was nothing but dark walls and a darker dome above, and the great disc of a compass in the center. “Then how was London going to trick it into picking Simon?”

  Daisy gave her head a little shake. “He’s probably the only one powerful enough to overcome the room,” she said. “Which, in my opinion, is how he got this the first time. But Otis thinks…”

  “What?”

  Daisy looked down at her. “He thinks London was bluffing. That he wanted Simon to believe he wasn’t rightfully chosen, so he’d be indebted to him and remain under his control.”

  “So that means…”

  “That Otis thinks Simon is really the one,” she said. “Yeah.”

  Ruby turned to the door as Otis and Simon appeared, the last two to enter the room. When the black door closed behind them, there was a hiss of air as it sealed itself shut. They stood there for a moment without moving, all eyes upon them.

  In the pause that followed, everyone seemed to lean forward. Ruby could tell that Simon was nervous, but he carried himself tall and straight, clearly attempting to play the part of the future leader of the Society of Storm Makers.

  There were no more speeches. As everyone watched, Otis nodded, and then placed a hand on Simon’s back, and together, they began to walk. Ruby shut her eyes for a moment, afraid to look—afraid the needle might move, and afraid it might not—but then she forced herself to open them again. And just as she did, she saw it happen: The needle began to wobble, the smallest of vibrations, like a tuning fork, like a breeze.

  She held her breath, her eyes wide. As the two of them reached the northwest side, the needle gave a little twitch, as if waking itself up after four long years of sleep, and then it began to move.

  Simon was grinning and Otis was nodding, as if he’d known all along. Beside her, Daisy let out a whoop, and the crowd—which had been frozen in stunned silence—did the same, so that the little room was filled with the sound of cheering, all of it for Simon, who was passing just in front of them. Ruby reached out a hand, and he grabbed it as he walked by, his cheeks flushed, then let go again as he moved past.

  Otis had stopped to let him finish on his own and was waiting beside Daisy, who couldn’t help reaching over and giving him a sideways hug. He ducked his head and looked embarassed, but Daisy only laughed, her eyes still charting Simon’s progress.

  But as he continued his slow rotation, Ruby noticed what everyone else had missed in their celebrations, and her heart took a sudden dip.

  The needle had stopped.

  She looked around wildly, her gaze landing on Otis, and it was then that he saw it, too. His eyes widened, and he took an uncertain step forward. And then sideways. And then two steps to the other side. He stared at the compass in astonishment.

  Others were beginning to catch on, and the noise in the room seemed to wilt. Simon passed the northeast marking now, headed toward where they’d started, but he hesitated as the crowd went silent, his eyes passing over the compass with a look of understanding.

  For a long time, nobody spoke, though the room still seemed to echo with the earlier cheers. Once more, Otis took a huge step sideways. But it didn’t change anything.

  The needle was still pointing at him.

  thirty

  IT WAS PROBABLY DARK OUT BY NOW, but from where Ruby and Simon were sitting—in one of the windowless conference rooms in the underground headquarters—it was impossible to tell. They’d been there for nearly an hour at this point. The receptionist, Summer, who—coincidentally—was hoping to one day become an expert on the vernal equinox, had shown them how to work the remote for the television.

  But they were having much more fun poking around the walls, where instead of photos, there were clear boxes that looked somewhat like fish tanks, only each had a miniature version of a kind of weather inside it. Simon was particularly intrigued by the lightning box, and he kept pressing his nose to the glass to make his hair stand on end from the static electricity. Ruby sat underneath the one that was snowing, watching the flakes building up into drifts halfway up the frame before they all melted and the whole thing started over again.

  The door to the conference room was closed, but they could hear footsteps and voices outside, a flurry of activity that had begun moments after the needle spun for Otis. When the commotion in the compass room had died down, there was an unmistakable wave of relief that seemed to pass over everyone, even those who had appeared to be most loyal to London. Ruby could almost see them relaxing again, a weight falling off them after four long years.

  Otis had looked more surprised than anyone, and even as the crowd started to drift over to congratulate him, to ask him questions, to beg for favors and make requests, he simply stood there rubbing at his jaw, a look of utter bewilderment on his face.

  “He’s probably just worried he’ll have to start working in an office again,” Simon told Ruby now, drawing back from the lightning box, his hair still frizzy.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He told me he liked being on the road.” He flopped down onto one of the rolling chairs, then pushed off the table, making i
t spin in circles. “That he liked riding trains and seeing the country and not being tied down. That’s what he’s been doing for the last four years. Going from place to place, helping out at disaster sites.”

  “Really?”

  Simon nodded. “Cleaning up storms, rebuilding houses after hurricanes, things like that. Oh, and replanting that forest in California.”

  “What forest?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

  “The one that burned in the fire,” he said. “The one where Sophie died.”

  Ruby watched her brother lean back in the chair. Just an hour before, Simon had been the key to everything, and now he’d been shuttled in here so they’d be out of the way while everyone else got things done. Ruby couldn’t believe how fast it had all changed. She waited until Simon had finished rotating and the chair was still. “Are you sad that it wasn’t you?”

  He gave her a long look, then shook his head. “I mean, it was fun to think I might be that important,” he said. “But I’m actually sort of relieved.”

  “It would have been a lot to deal with.”

  “A lot,” he agreed. “Besides, I’d rather be up in Wisconsin with Mom and Dad than have to worry about all this. Wouldn’t you?”

  Ruby didn’t have a chance to answer because the door to the conference room swung open and Daisy poked her head in. “You two doing okay in here?”

  They both nodded, and she slipped inside, collapsing into one of the other chairs at the conference table with a little sigh.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said. “I feel like I got your note at the garage about a month ago.”

  “Is it weird being back here?” Ruby asked.

  “It is,” she said. “But I’m glad I came.”

  Ruby smiled. “Me, too.”

  “Where’s Otis?” Simon asked. He’d grabbed a pencil from a canister in the middle of the table and was now absently doodling on a piece of blue paper. Ruby could see that he was sketching out the little emblem on the pins, the storm cloud and lightning bolt. When she looked over at Daisy, Ruby could tell she’d seen it, too.

  “He’s dealing with some things,” she said. “There’s a lot to do.”

  “Is he happy?” Ruby asked. She knew it was an odd question—there was a weather disaster to stop, and an office full of people to direct; London was still out there somewhere, and who knew how many other Storm Makers were still loyal to him. Yet the compass had spun for Otis, and in all the chaos of the day, all the madness, it seemed a kind of miracle.

  “I think he’s mostly surprised,” Daisy said, swiveling in her chair. “Everyone is. I mean, this was what we all expected to happen four years ago, but now…”

  “Four years ago, like when London got picked?”

  Daisy nodded. “The two of them were so talented,” she said, gazing at the snow frame on the wall. “They were so far above anyone else, and with both of them flaring up around the same time, best friends and everything? It was like they were celebrities. The rest of us were always completely fascinated by them.”

  Simon was listening raptly, the pencil still in his hand, and Ruby tried to imagine them together: Otis, with his weather-beaten face and wrinkled hat, and London, with those dark eyes and even darker suits. Something about the image just refused to match up.

  “But even before Otis married Sophie,” Daisy continued, “they started to grow apart. London began hanging around with some other guys, the kind who got a real kick out of their powers and didn’t exactly use them responsibly. They started helping London with his first disasters, back when not everyone would bow to his pressure yet.”

  Ruby frowned, and in the brief silence, they could hear a tiny rumble of thunder from one of the frames, no louder than the purr of a cat. Daisy shook her head, as if to loosen her thoughts.

  “Then Sophie died, and London blamed Otis, and it got worse between them. But when my father had his heart attack, and it was time to choose a new Chairman, everyone sort of expected it to be Otis. Of the two, he’d always had a slight advantage in power, and he was the one everyone really wanted. He just seemed more like a leader, you know?”

  They both nodded; they did know.

  “But he disappeared after the fire, and it was London who was chosen. Some people think it was rightfully so; others think maybe he somehow rigged it. And some believe he was just so charged with grief from Sophie’s death that it was enough to move the needle on its own. But either way, the compass chose him, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “It should have been Otis,” Ruby said, a spark of anger rising inside her.

  “A lot of people thought that,” Daisy agreed. “From the moment London started, the whole Society was divided. And even though most of them—the ones who believed in Otis, and who believed in my father before that—ended up eventually being forced to go along with London’s plans, they were always hoping for change to come. So you can see what it meant for Otis to walk back in here today. What it meant that he was finally the one chosen. They’ve been waiting all this time. Since the day London became Chairman.”

  “Which is when you left,” Simon said, and Daisy nodded.

  “Which is when I left. I never trusted him. Neither did my dad. And I had a way out. I had the garage, and a whole other life. So I left.”

  “And Otis?” Ruby asked, though she already knew the answer.

  “There were rumors about him from time to time, that he was traveling the country, helping people in the wake of natural disasters, cleaning up after London’s messes. But he didn’t come back until now, until he found Simon. It’s like he couldn’t. Like he wasn’t ready yet.” She paused and shook her head. “It’s like all that time, he was trying to make up for the one person he couldn’t save.”

  thirty-one

  LATER, AFTER DAISY HAD LEFT to check on things in the rest of the office and then returned again—looking shiny-eyed and frazzled but also energized by the buzz of activity, this newfound sense of purpose—she stood in the doorway to announce that it was time to get them home.

  “I can take you myself, since Otis is going to be pretty busy with things here,” she told them, but even as she did, the door was pushed open the rest of the way and Otis appeared behind her, his face lit with a grin.

  “Actually, Otis is not that busy taking care of things,” he said. “So we can head back together.”

  “But that makes no sense,” Daisy said. “You’ve got all this stuff to do here….”

  “There, too,” he said firmly. “I’ve got a drought to fix. And a couple of young Storm Makers to take home.”

  Ruby frowned at the table, lost in thought, but Daisy’s next words made her look up again.

  “You’ve also got a solstice disaster to avert.”

  Otis nodded, pulling his hat from his pocket. “That, too,” he said. “We’re taking care of it.”

  Simon stood up from his chair. “How are we getting home?”

  “Well, we drove,” Daisy said, looking sheepish. “But my car broke down on the way.”

  “That’s the thing about lost causes….” Ruby said, and Daisy smiled.

  “I still haven’t given up on it yet.”

  “Can’t we catch another ride?” Simon asked hopefully. “I mean, you’re the Chairman now. Maybe a limo or something?”

  “We’ll take the train,” Otis said, smiling. “I’m still a train guy.”

  It took a while to say their good-byes. Everyone wanted to shake Simon’s hand, to hear about what happened on the roof, to congratulate the youngest Storm Maker ever. Summer gave them both a hug, and Ned, the elevator guy, clapped them each on the back with a gruff nod.

  “Mind yourselves,” he said. “And come back soon.”

  “They’ll be back, they’ll be back,” Otis kept insisting. They were nearly to the door by then, and he paused to look out over the room. “And I will, too. We’ve got a lot more work to do in the morning.”

  Another cheer rose up, and a fe
w people whistled. As they walked out of the office, Simon looked up at Otis. “What sort of things do you have to do tomorrow?”

  “Finish calling off the fires, for one,” Otis said. “Restore all the dry land. Call in the old scouts. Weed out the bad eggs here at headquarters. Trash Rupert’s office.” He grinned at this last one.

  “That’s a lot,” Simon said, looking awed.

  “Tomorrow will just be the start of it,” Otis said, putting a hand on Simon’s head and mussing up his hair. “You would’ve been up for it, too,” he said. “I would’ve helped you.”

  Outside, as they walked to the train station with the lights of the city coming on all around them, Ruby cleared her throat. “You didn’t say London before.”

  Everyone turned to her.

  “When you were talking about all there was to do, you didn’t say ‘Find London.’ ”

  Daisy and Otis exchanged a look, and in spite of the lingering heat, Ruby felt a shiver go through her.

  “Is it because someone else is finding him?” she asked, her voice very small.

  Otis bent his head as they approached the station. “No,” he said. “It’s because I have a feeling he’ll be the one to find us.”

  Ruby could think of nothing to say to this. She followed the others into the train station, which was lined with little stores and newstands. Daisy and Simon wandered over to buy the tickets, while Otis hung back near one of the shop windows. When Ruby walked over to join him, she noticed there was a display of caps not unlike the one he always wore.

  “Thinking of getting a new one?” she asked, and he looked over at her, stricken.

  “No,” he said, the word coming out with a force that neither of them had expected.

  “Sorry,” Ruby said. “Yours is great. I didn’t mean…”

  “No, no,” he said, pulling his eyes away from the hats. “It’s just that this one was a gift from my wife.”

  “Ah,” she said.