Bonnie felt the dune buggy fly into the air again, then land hard, a bone-jolting crash. “Alan, slow down!”
“Are you crazy? We’ve got to get out of here.”
Death turned in their direction again and urged the horse on faster.
“He’s getting closer!”
Alan spun the wheels a third time, sending them back inland toward the steeper dunes. Bonnie had both hands clenched on the side of the buggy, and her eyes locked on Death.
He was staring back at her. Their eyes connected, and she gasped. It was as if the distance between them had vanished, as if the dune buggy had ceased to exist and the horse had been swallowed by the sand.
The world disappeared, leaving only Death and herself, locked in a terrible embrace. But Bonnie was not going to die, not now at least. She knew that when she looked into Death’s eyes—eyes that stared out of a hollow skull inside a silver helmet.
So when she wept now it was not herself. It was for Death, and his eternity of sorrow and loneliness.
Death, she saw, knew both his own necessity and the inevitability of being hated. But he was lonely; terribly, achingly lonely. Bonnie wanted to reach out to him, to embrace him and ease his sorrow.
“Good,” said Death softly, in her mind. “You know me. Now, do not be afraid.”
“Alan,” said Bonnie. “Alan, it’s all right! Stop the buggy. He won’t hurt us.”
It was only then that she realized Alan was screaming.
“Stop!” she cried gain. “It’s all right. It’s all right!”
Alan did not respond. His foot was locked to the floor. The dune buggy roared on at top speed.
“You have no need to fear me,” whispered Death in Bonnie’s mind. “There is something I must tell you.”
“Alan! Alan, stop! It’s all right!”
They crested another dune and soared into the air. It was too high, too steep. They should never have taken it at top speed. Matilda hit the sand with a terrible sound of wrenching metal, then roared on.
“Alan!”
The dune ahead was even higher.
Now Bonnie was screaming, too. Death turned and thundered at them. He seemed to grow larger as he came, and his eyes flashed with fire. The leering skull inside the helmet filled the sky. Suddenly Death was everywhere.
And then they were flying, flying through the air, and the ground was much too far away.
Just as quickly, it was much too close. Bonnie heard a terrible sound of metal twisting and tearing, as if Matilda were screaming in agony.
She felt herself hurtle through the air.
Then everything went black.
Chapter Fourteen
Bonnie opened her eyes. It was nearly dark. The only sound she could hear was the gentle rolling of the ocean against the shore. Far above her, stars were beginning to appear, twinkling dimly in the blue-black sky.
“Alan? Alan?”
A wave of panic washed through her. Where was he?
She tried to sit up, cried out at the pain the movement caused. Gingerly she checked herself over. She was sore from head to toe, but nothing seemed to be broken. Moving slowly, she got to her feet.
She began calling Alan’s name again, her panic soaring now, threatening to spin out of control. Terror flooded through her, a cold dread much different from the hot fear of their flight down the beach. Had Death lied? Had he really come to take a life… to take Alan from her?
She heard a small moan.
“Alan! Is that you? Where are you!?”
No answer, save another moan. Bonnie held her breath, listening intently, her panic replaced by cold-blooded determination to find him.
There it was again! This time she was able to tell the direction from which it came.
Her eyes were used to the low light now. She stumbled along a dune in toward his moan, trying to keep her balance as the sand slid and shifted beneath her feet. Her own pain faded as she focused her thoughts on Alan.
She gave a little cry of relief when she spotted Matilda ahead and to her right. The relief quickly vanished. The little dune buggy, Alan’s pride and joy, was twisted and broken, hopelessly destroyed.
His moans were coming from the direction of the wreckage. She ran across the sand, thinking it was like running in a nightmare when you couldn’t get traction, couldn’t move fast enough, couldn’t make your feet do what you wanted them to.
Her lungs ached by the time she reached Matilda.
“Alan?”
The moan came from the far side of the mangled heap of metal. She moved slowly now, afraid of what she might find.
#
Alan lay sprawled on the sand, eyes closed, face pale. Her relief at the fact that there was no blood vanished when she saw that one of his feet was trapped in the wreckage. The grotesque angle of his leg surely meant that it was broken.
She knelt beside him. “Alan. Alan, can you hear me?”
His eyelids fluttered slightly, and his lips moved as if he were trying to speak. Several drops of water fell on his face. It took Bonnie a second to realize they were her own tears.
“Alan. It’s me, Bonnie. Can you hear me?” She put her hand in his.
He gripped it tightly. Suddenly his eyes flashed open, and he began to scream. “He’s after me! He’s coming to get me!”
Bonnie was shaking. “No. He’s gone, Alan. He’s gone. He wasn’t after you anyway.”
“He’s after me!” screamed Alan again. “Oh, God. Bonnie, he’s coming for me!”
His body began to shake, wracked with sobs. Bonnie lay down on the sand beside him and put her arms around him. “Shhh,” she whispered. “Shhhh. He’s gone. And I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”
Alan turned his head and buried it in Bonnie’s shoulder. His tears were hot, his voice desperate. “Bonnie, get rid of the cards!”
“I will,” she said. “I promise, Alan. But first we’ve got to take care of you.” She pulled away from him, took his face between her hands.
He looked at her from behind a wall of pain and fear.
“I’ve got to go for help,” she said.
“No!” He clutched her hands. “No! Don’t go! He’ll come back for me. Don’t leave me. He’ll come back!”
“Alan—”
“Bonnie, don’t leave me!”
Bonnie was torn by indecision. She couldn’t leave him here like this, trapped in the dark, not after what he had just seen. No one could be expected to face that alone. But he needed medical help, needed it quickly.
She took her hands from his and twisted around so she could examine his leg. It was broken, and no doubt about it. If he didn’t feel any severe pain, it had to be because he was in shock.
He followed her line of sight. “Oh my God,” he moaned. “Bonnie, I can’t feel it. I can’t feel it at all.”
She turned back and lay down beside him. He was trembling violently now.
“I’m cold. I’m so cold.”
“Shhh. Shhh. I’ll hold you.” She pressed herself against him, trying to warm him, knowing the deepest cold came from inside, and that there was little she could do to help that.
He turned his face to her, his skin dusky in the fading light. Tenderly she touched the line of his jaw. “Was it real?” he whispered. His eyes were searching hers, desperately seeking an answer, a denial of what they had just experienced.
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I don’t even know what real means anymore.”
He buried his face in her shoulder again.
#
“There they are!”
Bonnie looked up. The voice came from their right. She scrambled to her feet and could see the beam of a flashlight and several people running down a dune.
“Bonnie!” cried Randy. “Is that you?”
“Yes! Yes, we’re here!”
She began to cry. She would never have believed she could be so glad to hear her brother’s voice.
“Dear God! What were you two kids doing?” her father yelled.
br /> Alan’s father was with them, too. He sprinted forward, dropped to his knees beside Alan. Turning to Randy he snapped, “Run back to the nearest house and call for an ambulance. Hurry!”
Randy stumbled away, running backward, trying to keep an eye on everything while still following orders.
“Hurry!” repeated Mr. Peterson.
“Bonnie!” Eileen stepped out of the darkness. Running to Bonnie, she put her arms around her. “Bonnie, are you all right?”
Suddenly Bonnie found herself shaking, sobbing, unable to talk. Her father stepped over. Motioning Eileen away, he put an arm around Bonnie’s shoulders and led her away from the wreckage.
“Listen, Sunshine. I’m sorry I yelled. That was stupid. I was scared is all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
Bonnie buried her face in his shoulder and let her tears flow. Time seemed to stand still. She was content for now to feel safe in her father’s arms. She huddled as close as she could and held on for all she was worth. After a while she heard a siren in the distance and her brother’s voice calling, “This way, this way. They’re over here!”
Two ambulance attendants arrived, carrying equipment and a stretcher. She heard Alan’s moans as the men freed his leg from the wreckage and set it in a temporary splint. She wanted to go to him, but her father convinced her that she would only be in the way. Finally the attendants placed him on a stretcher. Then Bonnie did run to his side. He was unconscious now, and she didn’t know if he felt it when she squeezed his hand and kissed his forehead before they carried him to the waiting ambulance.
A few minutes later they returned, carrying another stretcher.
“I don’t need that,” she said. But it was a token protest. She was trembling so badly that she wasn’t sure she could stay on her feet much longer, let alone make the walk back to the ambulance.
The men helped her gently onto the stretcher. “Just relax,” said her father. “They’ll take care of you.”
Eileen came to stand beside her. “Hey, pal,” she whispered. “You all right?”
Bonnie tried to sit up.
“Don’t! You’ll make them drop you.”
“Alan!” she whispered. “How is Alan?”
Eileen put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s got a broken leg, but he’s going to be all right. Relax.”
Bonnie closed her eyes again.
#
At the hospital she was examined and x-rayed. Then she fell asleep on the bed in the emergency room. When she woke, she saw her mother sitting by the bed. Her eyes were red. Eileen and Randy were standing nearby. Her father was pacing out in the hall.
“Hi,” she said weakly.
“Well, it’s about time you woke up,” said Randy.
“Hush, Randy,” said Mrs. McBurnie. She turned to Bonnie. “How do you feel, dear?”
Bonnie thought for a moment. “All right,” she said at last. “A little weak, but other than that, okay.” A note of panic crept into her voice. “What about Alan?”
“They’re setting his leg now,” said Eileen. “They x-rayed him, and there’s nothing wrong internally. He’s going to be fine.”
“But he’ll miss the whole track season!” said Bonnie.
“He’s lucky to be alive,” commented her father, stepping into the room. “Listen, Sunshine—I’m not going to yell. But I want to know what happened out there.”
Bonnie hesitated. “We thought we saw something,” she said at last. “A man riding a horse. He was galloping toward us. It looked like we might collide, so Alan accelerated—to get ahead of him, I guess. The pedal stuck, and he lost control. Honest, Dad—Alan wasn’t driving crazy or anything.”
She was torn inside. What she had said was pretty much the truth. But she wanted to tell them everything. The problem was, they would think she was crazy, think the accident had knocked something loose in her head.
“How did you find us?” she asked, changing the subject.
Bonnie’s mother went pale. “It was Randy and Eileen,” she said.
Bonnie looked puzzled.
“I just had a sudden flash,” said Eileen, “and I knew you were in trouble. Big trouble. It was the strangest feeling I ever had. So I called your house. Aunt Kathleen said Randy was upset, too—yelling something crazy about you and Alan flying through the air. He had started at the same time I got my feeling.”
Bonnie’s mother looked away, clearly uncomfortable with all this.
“Aunt Kathleen called Alan’s house,” continued Eileen. “His mom told her you had been gone longer than she expected. So they decided they had better go look for you. Your mom and dad picked me up on the way, and Randy and I—well, we just kind of led them to you. I don’t know how. It was weird. We just knew where you were.”
“I’m going to write the guys who make the ‘X-Files’ and see if they want to use me for a story,” said Randy proudly.
“Randy, I don’t want you talking about this to anyone else,” said Mrs. McBurnie sharply.
Bonnie felt a coldness settle over her. Eileen’s story had made her think maybe she could talk to her mother about this after all. But the sharp denial she heard in her voice made it clear she could not.
At that moment a doctor came bustling through the doorway. He carried a clipboard, and a stethoscope dangled from his neck.
“Well, young lady, how do you feel?”
“Fine,” said Bonnie. “A little sore here and there, but other than that… “ Her voice trailed off when she saw his face.
“That’s good,” he said heartily. “We’ve checked you over thoroughly. Nothing broken, no internal bruises. You’re remarkably lucky; it’s almost as though something were protecting you. Anyway, you can go home. Just make sure you get plenty of rest and take it easy for a few days.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
As the doctor bustled out of the room Bonnie tried to hold down a rising wave of fear. Maybe she was losing her mind. The man’s outfit had been that of a doctor.
But his face was that of the Magician.
#
Two in the morning. Bonnie was sitting in her room. She was supposed to be sleeping, but it was impossible. She had too much racing through her mind, too many questions, too many fears.
She was glad she had left the tarot deck with Madame LePanto. She was afraid of the cards now. Yet at the same time she had an overwhelming urge to use them again, to see if they could help her find some path through the bewildering maze of events: the race with Death, the appearance of the Magician in the hospital—and then this last thing, the thing she had discovered as she was getting ready for bed.
She placed her fingertips on her chest.
It was real all right. She wondered why they hadn’t spotted it at the hospital. It had certainly been plain enough to her when she undressed.
She remembered what the Magician-doctor had said: “It’s almost as though something were protecting you.”
She got out of bed and stood before her mirror. Pulling down the top of her nightgown, she stared in fascination at a slightly raised golden scar that looked as if it had been burned into her chest many years ago.
It was the sign of the ankh, in the exact spot where it had lain when the High Priestess placed the chain around her neck that morning.
Bonnie shuddered. She traced the symbol with her fingertip, wondering if it had indeed protected her. The ankh was a sign of life.
She turned off the light, then turned it back on and climbed into bed. For a long time she lay there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
#
The Magician was standing beside her.
The mingled odor of sulphur and roses was stronger this time, overpowering and sickly sweet. He looked down at her and laid his hand on her forehead. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“Thank you,” murmured Bonnie, feeling strangely lethargic.
Something changed in the room.
“But you did wrong, you know.” Though the Magician’s vo
ice was still gentle an angry fire burned in his eyes.
Bonnie felt herself recoil from it, her soul snapping back like a fingertip that had touched a hot burner. “What do you mean?”
“You should not have left the cards with anyone else. They were meant for you. You are the only one who should use them. You let me down, Bonnie. You let me down.”
An awful wave of remorse washed through her. “I’m sorry!” she cried. Tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath her. She was drowning in guilt.
The Magician relented. “Get them back,” he said. “Use them. Use them wisely and well. That is the only way to make it up to me.”
“I will,” said Bonnie fervently. “Yes. Yes, I’ll do that. For you.”
The Magician nodded. “That’s good. That’s very good.”
Mist rose around his feet. A moment later he was gone.
Bonnie thrashed for a moment on her bed, then lay still again. The other dream was beginning.
The dream about the crystal.
And this time, she knew, there was no way to stop it.
It was going to run its course.
Chapter Fifteen
She was in the attic.
It was a hot, sticky summer day, and she was feeling very sad because her mother’s friends, the McFiggans, had been killed in a car accident. Somehow she felt responsible for it.
She was a very bad person.
“But Pirate Jenny isn’t bad,” she said out loud. “Pirate Jenny steals from wicked people and gives to the poor. Pirate Jenny is good. Not like Bonnie. Bonnie is very bad.”
She tucked the end of one of her copper-colored braids into the corner of her mouth so she could chew on it. Doing that was bad, too. It must be, because her mother always told her not to. But it was all right for Pirate Jenny. She didn’t have a mother.
She opened the great sea trunk and began to take out her booty, placing it around her in the familiar half circle.
“These are the wizard’s slippers,” she said, placing the Persian slippers on the floor in front of her. “Magistimes is angry that we have them. But we don’t care.”