Aldo's Fantastical Movie Palace

  The Cleft felt cooler, and Chloe felt another pang inside. “I don’t know if I want to hear anymore —”

  “You must!” The chief lowered his voice. “Once a year, on what’s called the Day of Reckoning, Vaepor calls all the people of Retinya to a pilgrimage. He invites — forces — them to the palace, and to the pool where they will forget all they hold dear.”

  Chloe raised her hand. “Lost you again. I mean, that is not how we wrote — What good does that do?”

  The chief frowned. “A man who can’t remember will follow anyone, will believe anything. If it wasn’t for Vaepor’s frightening form, It would long ago have seduced all men.”

  “So whoever swims in that pool forgets everything? Have you gone in too?”

  “No. This is why we are here. There are a few men who resist, mostly in the arid regions of the Safelands and in Shadowton, and I’ve heard that other creatures live in secret. But Old Retinya is no more, and when the old among us die, so will the taste of freedom.” He breathed deeply. “In three days’ time, all known men begin the march on the Path of Pilgrimage. It ends at the pool, where all recent memories will be stolen — ripped from their minds, and I believe held prisoner in the palace. There is no way to know who has forgotten, who is lost, except the mark.” He pointed at Chloe’s face. “When a pilgrim dips in the pool, a facial mark appears. After years of forgetting, scars form.”

  Scarface.

  “So you thought I was in the pool,” Chloe whispered. “I admit it. There is a name I want to forget. When I swim in the Snake, for those minutes I do feel free of it …”

  The chief leaped off the throne and landed directly in front of Chloe. He raised his blue stone and peered at her. “Have you been in the pool?”

  “No, I’ve never been anywhere near it! I don’t know anything about what you just said.”

  His lips tightened. “Your words lie.”

  “She does.” An elf grabbed her arm.

  “I feel it too!” said another.

  “She’s seen our window. She can’t be allowed to live.”

  The cave exploded with sounds of deep singing as more strong hands wrapped around her arms and legs.

  “No!” Chloe shrieked. “I don’t know anything. I’ve never even seen your pool or the palace or — Wait! I do know something!”

  The song died. “I know about Blind Secholit. I think I saw him planting. Right before he sent me. And he sows seed, right?”

  Elves drew back and Chloe fell to the ground.

  “Think about what you say.” The chief reached down and helped her up.

  “Well, you won’t believe this, but I saw him planting worlds. He was growing worlds right out of the dirt. And he was burying stuff. I saw him bury a shadow. That’s the guy, right?”

  Again, all was silent.

  The chief’s eyes widened. “What name would you use for him?”

  “Nick and Nob told me his name was Secholit. He didn’t name himself. I mean, there wasn’t enough land to call him a farmer. Mom would call it too big for a garden. In Minnesota, we’d call him a sower.”

  The chief folded his arms. “A sower. That’s what stories say. Every elf in this Cleft knows this. Tell me about the shadow. What grew from that?”

  “Uh, nothing. He just buried it. He said he didn’t even know what it was.” Chloe thought for a moment. “Is he really blind?”

  “At times.” The chief smiled and turned to the elves. “Perhaps we are quick to rush to judgment. That’s Blind Secholit. Can any here deny it?” The chief turned to Chloe. “If he sent you” — he turned and stared at Hael — “then you, Chloe, will have every elves’ assistance.”

  Hael squeezed his forehead between thumb and forefinger, and stiffly bowed.

  Chloe cleared her throat. “Well, I need Nob, and I need to find Nick. And there’s something else the guy told me to do that I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about.”

  The chief nodded. “Then that last task will remain yours. But regarding the boy, perhaps we can set you on course. Everyone, to the trees, and with speed. We make for the Remnant Road —” He paused. “And has anybody seen that blasted Scout?”

  Chloe, Nob, and a small detachment of elves set out at once. They swung for hours, and the hours turned to days, if Chloe’s mountain stone glowed true. They rarely stopped, and then only long enough for short naps and to grab a fistful of lingonberries. Nob took extra attention to Chloe’s hands, raw and bleeding from the vines, bandaging them as best he could. She didn’t complain — the elves’ faces held a strange urgency, and she was hushed each time she spoke.

  Finally, they stopped. Strong, oaken hands grasped them and Hael pointed down.

  “We are above it. The Remnant Road. Before It covered the land with deception, when these trees where saplings, this road stretched into the heart of what is now the Unknown Forest. Now it is overgrown, never used. We have no reason to walk it.”

  The chieftain interrupted. “This road stretches from the forest in the west to the Eastern Sea and will lead you to the palace, if that’s where you wish to go. Although I wish on you another destination.” He glanced down, kicked at a branch with his toe. “Retinya is a more beautiful place with you in it.”

  Chloe opened her mouth, but no sounds came out.

  “I hope you will find your friend as well,” the chief added. “The trees placed him and his mouth in a boat and sent him down the Green River. It will intersect with this road in short order.”

  “We get to walk?” Chloe’s arms ached, and she slid partway down her vine.

  “The ground is evil,” called the chieftain. “The land will warn It of your presence. But there are paths that have not sworn allegiance. Use your stone to light the way.”

  Chloe dug her small mountain stone from her pocket, and two towering oaks lowered her and Nob halfway to the ground. “How will we know where to step?”

  “Follow Scout,” Hael called. “He knows.”

  “I don’t know a Scout. I haven’t met a Scout.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen a … Scout?”

  A new figure hung, silently silhouetted against the forest deep. Chloe lifted the glowing stone and illuminated his face.

  The young man did not squint. From the neck up, Scout looked regal, with a proud, noble air. He clearly did not live in the forest — his skin was tanned and weathered, as if he’d walked a thousand miles beneath a burning sun. But from the neck down, all royal appearances vanished. He dressed in a loose shirt, torn and dirty, with trousers that hung from four leather straps that crisscrossed his chest.

  “You were never in the script,” Chloe said.

  “You’d be surprised where I’ve been.” Scout hinted a smile. He then turned and frowned at Nob.

  “What’s going on?” Chloe asked. “You know each other?”

  Scout bowed as well as a young man can while hanging on a vine. “I’m pleased to meet you. I will get you to the city of Medahon, this I promise, though I have no idea why you’d want to go. After that, our paths will likely separate. I have business of my own.” He leaned closer. “I only ask that you walk in my steps. Do not stray. Do not step to the left or right. As the chieftain said, the ground is evil — well, most of it.”

  “Medahon? I love that city! Do you want to hear who designed it?”

  Scout whisked down his vine. Chloe sighed and slid the rest of the way to the forest floor, where leaves and branches crackled beneath her feet.

  She kicked at the brambles. “This is a road? Nob, what do you think?”

  “I can’t go,” Nob whispered from above.

  Chloe stared up. “What? Secholit ordered you. He told you to help me. He —”

  “And I have. I — This part is beyond my ability. It wasn’t what I was asked to do, not really. I was asked to take you down —”

  “And help me!”

  Nob gazed at the ground, his words coming quietly. “You don’t know what lies ahead, but I do. I lived here.” br />
  “That’s not true. I know this city and its beautiful walls and wild staircases and … I know where we are. I drew the map! I sketched you from nothing! In Mary Poppins Bert could do anything. You’re just like him. You can do this.”

  “Chloe?” Scout’s hard stare never left Nob, and he gestured with his hand.

  “Please, Nob,” she mouthed.

  Nob took a deep breath. “Good-bye, lady.” He tapped the tree and his vine shot upward.

  Good-bye back. She buried her face in her hands. What should I do?

  “Stay in the forest if you wish.” Scout hobbled around and limped away.

  Wonderful. Now I have a limping guide.

  “Wait for me!”

  They weaved forward through the trees, although forward is not quite the correct word. They walked sideways, backward — every direction. But after some hours Chloe noticed the forest changing. There was firmness beneath her feet. Fewer branches crackled, and winks of light pierced the canopy and lit up the forest floor.

  The tree line stopped abruptly and they stood, blinking in daylight. Scout glanced over his shoulder and stretched out his arms. “Welcome to Retinya.”

  It was beautiful. Lakes dotted rolling hills. It looked like Minnesota, but with more valleys.

  “It doesn’t look right. It feels like Retinya — don’t get me wrong — and it is really pretty —”

  “Yes.” Scout forced a smile. “On the outside.” He turned and grabbed Chloe’s shoulders. “If we meet anybody on the way, not one word.”

  “I’m not very good at that.”

  “Walk beside me. Most of the ground beneath us is on our side.”

  Chloe soon had passed him. She glanced back at Scout, whose gaze never left the path. In the light, his limp was far more pronounced.

  “Your leg …”

  Scout caught up and they moved on the wide road together. Beneath them, dirt changed to gravel and then to fitted rock. “You aren’t used to walking so slowly.”

  “Actually, I am.” The thought of morning walks with Grandpa made her smile. She closed her eyes. She could see the tall grass, the cows in the distance.

  Take my arm, Chloe. We will make a good show.

  “You will want to hide that.”

  Chloe opened her eyes and stared at the stone in her hand, burning blue. She jammed it in her pocket, but the light fought its way out.

  “Wait here. On the road.” Scout kept his eyes on her pocket. “I’ll gather some lunch.”

  Chloe watched Scout hobble off the cobblestones, work his way up a hill, and disappear. She sighed and plunked down on the lonely road. She traced her finger in the sand that filled the spaces between the paving stones.

  “Why do I need a scout? I can follow a straight, abandoned road. I’ll hit Medahon, then it’s a lovely journey to the City of Reckoning. Nick can’t be that far ahead.”

  She wished her brothers were here, making jokes. She wished Mom were here, stroking her hair. She missed them all.

  “Chloe.”

  Chloe jumped to her feet. A girl stood in the lovely meadow opposite the direction Scout had gone.

  A girl. Just a girl like me. Chloe’s heartbeat slowed and she smiled. Well, not quite like me.

  Precious stones adorned the visitor’s dress and sparkled in the sunlight. She was a princess. Or an angel. Chloe peeked down at her own dingy clothes, the same clothes she’d been wearing since her arrival.

  Chloe swallowed and pulled her T-shirt to hide the bottom of her scar.

  “I bet you’re lonely,” the girl said.

  Don’t speak. Don’t speak.

  “Walk with me.” The girl smiled and backed off the road. She was so beautiful — more so than any movie star who’d ever appeared on Aldo’s screen. Chloe stepped forward, and then again.

  “Stay on the road!”

  The voice was urgent, distant, and Chloe ignored it. Another step, and her toe brushed the grass.

  “A little farther.” The beautiful one stared at Chloe’s feet.

  “She’s not a girl!” Scout screamed.

  Chloe blinked hard and staggered back. The girl’s face snarled, darkened, shrunk. A beak grew and wings spread, and a hideous buzzard took off toward the east.

  Scout slumped back onto the road.

  “What did you say?”

  “Uh … nothing. I … I said nothing.”

  Scout frowned. “Then why did it come? What were you doing when you first saw her?”

  Chloe mentally retraced her steps. “Thinking of home.”

  “Memories,” Scout whispered. “The Senseri are drawn to your memories. Understand this: any Retinyan man or beast that turns, that sides with Vaepor, will, like It, start to lose its own shape to take on other forms. Do not trust any appearance you see. Only when anxious do Senseri lapse back to who they really are.”

  Chloe’s face was blank.

  Scout stepped nearer. “I do not know what men fight for in your world. But here, the battle is for our thoughts, our memories. It wants them. It’s scared of them. For no free-thinking man will follow It.” He breathed deeply. “So as long as you didn’t speak, as long as you stayed on the road, the Senseri saw your scar and likely thought you just another Lost One. It might suspect, but it doesn’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “I’m not sure. But for a Senseri to stray so far from the palace, you’re more valuable than I’d imagined.”

  Chloe bit her lip and winced. “My foot did brush grass —”

  Scout’s eyes widened and he grabbed her arm. “Then we run.”

  They ran east, following the path of the bird.

  Between rapid breaths, Scout said, “They know visitors have broken through. They know of your friend. They will come for you. We need to reach Medahon.”

  CHAPTER

  14

  ON THEY RAN, until Chloe’s thighs stung and her lungs ached, and then, suddenly, they didn’t hurt at all. The second wind she usually experienced in the 800-meter breaststroke wafted over her, and her pace quickened. But it soon disappeared, and she slowed to a limp beside Scout.

  “I can’t, Scout. I need to rest for —”

  Chloe’s toe caught on cobblestone, and she collapsed on the road. Scout bent over and gently lifted her to her feet.

  “There.”

  Lights burned brightly, and even from a distance, Medahon loomed, a great fortress city with jagged walls poking into the sky.

  “We’ll make it,” Scout said. “Just a couple miles, and —”

  “And then what? You’ll leave me too?”

  Scout exhaled hard and grabbed her hand. “No. I can no longer leave.” His face was grim. “I think your business and my business might be one and the same.”

  A horn blared. Not a sharp trumpet call, but a moaning roar. For minutes, it filled the air with sadness, and then it stopped — at least Chloe thought it did. The tone roared on inside her brain.

  “What was that?”

  “The Call. Tomorrow the Pilgrimage begins. The dark march to the pool will start, and the entire city will empty.”

  “Oh, I wish I didn’t have to see this.”

  Scout raised his eyebrows. “Yes, but understand what is horrible for Retinya is in this case good for you. Medahon will be in panicked preparation for the morning’s departure. In the chaos, you will be hard to find.” He glanced at the sky. “That is, if we can get into the city before the gates close.”

  “Then please, let’s go!” Chloe said.

  Filled with new strength, they pushed forward toward granite walls, which closer up were only taller and more imposing.

  I never meant to write them this big.

  “The walls of Medahon.” Scout huffed. “They withstood many attacks. But now men have forgotten why they fought.”

  An unnatural shadow spread over them quickly, turning day to night. Chloe slowed to glance up, but Scout grasped her arm and quickened the pace. A thunderclap rippled through the cloud that e
clipsed the city and lightning jagged across the darkening sky. Greenish funnels swirled overhead, but on the ground there was barely a breeze.

  “It’s going to pour,” Chloe said.

  “That’s no storm cloud.” Scout released her arm. “That’s Vaepor. Watching. Waiting.”

  Chloe looked up, stumbled, and regained her balance. “Waiting for …”

  “You.”

  From behind came the clop of horses’ hooves. A herd of fifty overtook them and slowed. On the back of each horse was a musician, and on the back of each musician was a pack bulging with musical instruments. Wild, colorful strips of clothing formed turbans on the riders’ heads, and they bowed low and hopped off their mounts. Chloe pressed into Scout as tambourines, flutes, and horns filled the air with loud, excruciating noise. It sounded like an off-key band, except far more painful. The troop danced, flailing and whooping with each gyration.

  “They’re all drunk,” Chloe said. “Just like Dad’s workers.”

  Scout again grabbed her hand and pulled her into their circle. “We’re in luck. Calainic gypsies. And no, they haven’t been drinking!” He grinned. “See the scars?”

  Children, grown-ups, and all ages between bore deep marks on their faces and necks.

  Chloe nodded. Even the kids go into the pool?

  Gypsy children grasped hands and ringed Chloe, circling and giggling. Life without memories doesn’t look so bad. They sure seemed carefree.

  “Dance!” Scout rolled his eyes and spun in a limping circle. “We’ll need cover to enter the gates.” As soon as the words left his lips, another violent thunderclap came from above. “Come on, Chloe. Join!”

  There was no pattern to the craziness. Chloe jumped and flung her arms, hoping she fit in.

  Grandpa would love this.

  The more Chloe jumped, the lighter she felt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d leaped or shouted. Not in this world. Certainly not in her own world. In swim meets, she felt wild freedom, but only when underwater, and there strokes required focused discipline. She certainly didn’t feel this light in Aldo’s projection booth, where she couldn’t do much more than whisper.

  Chloe suddenly felt a vibration. She glanced at the pale, blue light coming from her pocket.