Lantern Page 4

  There was no turning back. Tori’s grandmother was in on Operation Jared as part of her own crusade to spoil her grandchildren. Tori had to make her time count, especially given that her grandmother had taken extra steps to make sure Tori’s parents wouldn’t notice her absence. At first Tori was hesitant to accept the key to the side door, but she’d agreed a separate entrance and a different pair of shoes would help cover her earlier mistake of leaving her hiking boots on the porch. Her grandmother also had a master key she could use to lock and unlock Tori’s room from the outside, in case Tori’s parents attempted to unexpectedly check in on her during the night. Both keys jingled together inside Tori’s pocket as she plodded along in her sneakers.

  Once she sensed the first flicker of light, she quickened her steps. Her heart swelled with anticipation. The light was a reminder—a confirmation—that the lantern did exist, that it was real, and that it lit only for her. She’d offered to show her parents the truth, but they’d refused her offer. Part of her was glad they hadn’t come; she’d looked forward to her time with Jared. The light was one matter. The fact that a tiny person existed inside the lantern was an entirely different thing, one that struck a whole new level of disbelief.

  The light shined brighter as she rounded the familiar bend that led to the clearing before the woods. Her flashlight briefly lit up the form of a deer. The animal blinked its almond-shaped eyes at her and fled faster than she could suck in a breath.

  After taking a moment to let her heartbeat slow down, Tori approached the lantern. Like the other night, the globe was covered with a spray of condensation, giving the lantern an eerie glow.

  Tori set the nursing bag down and stepped closer. “Jared,” she said, remembering to keep her voice soft. “I’m here. Are you?”

  Before she finished speaking, a tiny dot formed on the glass, growing and spreading into the shape of a flower with round petals and pointed leaves.

  Tori smiled. “Thank you, Jared. It’s beautiful.”

  The flower melted as tiny hands smoothed away more of the condensation, revealing a face with a lopsided grin that appeared larger than the person who wore it.

  Chapter 8

  Jared opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Dark curls fell against his forehead as he shrugged forward. He pushed them back and frowned.

  “It’s okay,” said Tori, pointing to the bag. “I brought tools with me.” She didn’t want to startle him by digging in with the cutting tools, so she pulled out the stethoscope.

  Jared’s hands pressed against the glass, his lips slightly parted, as he watched Tori slip the earbuds in her ears and smooth out the stethoscope’s tubing.

  “You’ve seen one of these before, right, Jared?”

  His lips stretched into a smile. He brushed his head forward, mouthing words she couldn’t hear.

  “Just a second.” She placed the chest piece on the lantern in front of Jared, covering his face and shoulders. “Now, say that again.”

  “That’s genius,” he said. His voice was soft, a whisper. Given his tiny size, Tori had expected his voice to be high and squeaky like a cartoon chipmunk. But it was smooth and much deeper. Her shoulders and neck tingled. He sounded more mature than the guys at school.

  “I can hear you,” she said. “Say something else.”

  “Thank you, Tori, for finding me.”

  A swarm of butterflies fluttered inside her chest. She didn’t need to use the stethoscope to hear her own heartbeat. She slid the chest piece to the right and looked more closely at Jared within the light of the lantern. Less startled than the first time she’d encountered him, she was better able to make out his features. The outline of his body and planes of his face were well-defined. But they weren’t exactly lifelike. In some ways, he looked softer, lighter, like a hologram of spirit or ether.

  Words spilled out of her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. “What are you?”

  “I’m not sure. I remember being a person, an apprentice for a mechanical scientist.” His dark eyes clouded with sadness. “And I was happy until my master, Machin, gave me a job tending his lanterns. His shop was filled with them, great and small, crafted with various materials. Some had colored glass and were decorated with fine metals and jewels. I cleaned and took care of the lanterns that were lit and let Machin know if any burned out. He removed the unlit lanterns from the shop and I never saw them again.”

  Stunned, Tori stood and gaped while listening to Jared’s story.

  “Machin promised he’d make me whole again if I figured out how to open his newest find so he could light it. At first I was surprised because he hadn’t let me handle any of the unlit lanterns; but I didn’t think much of it, figuring this one was new and unused.” He knocked on the glass. “From what I can tell, the lantern looked a lot like this one. I was pleased when I’d discovered how to open it, using the light of the moon. That’s the last thing I remember until you showed up here.”

  Questions buzzed inside Tori’s mind. “What do you mean by ‘whole again’?”

  Jared lifted his right pant leg. “I was in an accident when I was six years old. A horse trampled me, breaking my bones and tearing through skin. I got an infection, but my sister thought it would heal on its own. Gangrene set in. I made it to a doctor’s in time, but I lost my leg.”

  “But you have a leg,” said Tori. “It looks fine to me.”

  Jared looked down and frowned. “No, I lost it—everything from my foot up through my knee.”

  Covering her mouth, Tori sniffed in a breath as nausea clenched her stomach. The cool air helped, but it wasn’t enough ease her mind of the extent of Jared’s amputation.

  “This isn’t my leg and I’m not myself,” he continued. “If I am a regular person, then how can I survive in here without food or water? I don’t know what I’ve become.”

  “I could try and get you out—I brought a crowbar and a metal cutter.”

  Jared shook his head. “I’d tried similar tools when given the task of opening lanterns like this; they were no use. The metal and glass are made of materials so dense that no tool would work. I had to resort to alternate forms of technology.”

  “Like what?”

  “I used a method I’d learned from Machin, a bending of light that could pass through glass. What I didn’t know was that the light had somehow enveloped me and brought me inside along with it.” He clenched his fists. “If this is his idea of a joke—that being trapped in here with two good legs is enough to make me whole—then he will pay when I get out.”

  “Where is Machin? Where does he live?”

  “In the same village where I grew up, Havenbrim.”

  Tori wrinkled her nose. That doesn’t sound like a real place. “Havenbrim,” she repeated, still doubtful. Even if she were able to help him out of the lantern, she had no idea how they’d get him home. She cleared her throat as another question came to mind. “What was your idea of being made whole? I mean, what did you think Machin would do to fix your leg?”

  Jared’s eyes brightened. “Machin was a master at mechanical things. He could make machines that did anything you could imagine. All I’d wanted was a leg made of metal with gears that moved and parts that could bend—just like a real knee and ankle. Before that, I had to hobble around with crutches or a peg leg.”

  “I know you said the tools you used in, um, Havenbrim didn’t open the lantern you worked on, but do you mind if I try the ones I have anyway? You never know. At least we can say we tried.”

  Jared shrugged. “Seeing as I don’t have any other plans tonight, I don’t see why not.”

  “Okay, great! I’ll need to lower you from the pole first.” Tori twisted the stethoscope around her neck and removed the handle of the lantern from the pole. She set it on the ground before pulling the crowbar out of the bag, and then wedged the hooked end of it against the lower lip of the lid. Gritting her teeth, she yanked. Nothing budged. She tried repeatedly until beads of sweat f
ormed on her forehead. She mopped them with her sleeve. “Well, you’re right about the crowbar,” she grumbled. “Doesn’t work.”

  She tried the metal cutter next. Her best efforts resulted in scraping sounds that made Jared press his hands to his ears.

  Tori gave up and sat on the ground. She picked up the lantern and cradled it on her lap before setting up the stethoscope so she could hear him again. “I’m sorry, Jared. I tried.”

  “I appreciate your effort. I wish I knew what to do from here.”

  “Me too.” She shivered.

  “Are you cold?” Jared’s face filled with concern.

  “It’s getting chillier out here. Late too. I should probably start walking back to my grandmother’s house soon.”

  The lantern glowed brighter, giving off both heat and light. Warmth and comfort seeped through Tori’s skin much like being wrapped in an electric blanket. Her eyes widened.

  “How did you do that?”

  Jared shrugged.

  “Do you feel warmer?”

  “Not really. I don’t feel much of anything in here.” He lifted his legs, bending his knees one at a time. “I can’t feel myself standing either.”

  “Do you know how the light turns on and off?”

  Jared shook his head.

  “So strange,” Tori mumbled. She squeezed the lantern as if giving her brother Kimmy a goodnight hug, and then pulled back and pressed her nose to the glass. “I wish I knew how to help you. I’ll come back tomorrow night. Maybe we’ll come up with something then, okay?”

  “Thank you, I would like that.”

  Tori turned her head so he couldn’t see her blush. She tucked the tools back inside the nursing bag. “Goodnight, Jared,” she said as she hung the lantern back in its place.

  Chapter 9

  Two Days before Halloween

  Shawna answered Tori’s call on the first ring. “So, how’s the lantern project going?”

  “Not sure you’d believe me if I told you.” Tori crossed her legs underneath her and rested her back against the wall behind her bed.

  “Did you open it and find out how it lights up?”

  “Not exactly. It sort of talked to me.”

  Shawna clicked her tongue. “Are you going cray out there at your granny’s? Because if you are—”

  Tori laughed, picturing her friend’s gray eyes, wide and serious. “At first, that’s what I thought. I couldn’t open it. I tried different tools—”

  “Why didn’t you just smash the freaky thing open?”

  “Come on. I didn’t want to break it—there’s someone living inside of it.”

  “Whaa?”

  “I asked the lantern some questions and it—he—answered me. A tiny person told me his name was Jared by writing it in mirror image from the other side. He smeared the fogginess inside the glass. When I finally saw him, I asked more questions, only he was too small. I could see his mouth move, but I couldn’t hear—”

  “Shut up!”

  “I’m serious. So I borrowed my grandma’s stethoscope, figuring that would help. And it worked.” Tori sat waiting to hear something other than silence from the other end of her phone. She cringed as Shawna sucked in a long breath.

  “Tor, I don’t know what to say. Is this Jared guy at least cute?”

  “How can you think about that? I have to help get him out!”

  Laughter jingled through the speaker of Tori’s phone. “The boy must be adorbs if you want him out so badly. He is, isn’t he?”

  “Well...” She pictured Jared’s dark eyes and messy curls. “I think so, but it was hard to tell for sure because he’s not exactly solid. He fades in and out with the light.”

  Shawna’s lips made a popping sound. “You’re not telling me that he sparkles.”

  “Funny, no.” Tori blushed. “It’s more of a...glowing.” She twisted her lips, holding her phone away from her ear as she waited for Shawna’s laughter to die down. “Finished?”

  Leftover giggles escaped before Shawna caught her breath. “Yeah, I’m good. Whew. So, what does Glowboy look like?”

  Tori tilted her head to the side. “Dark hair, dark eyes—like Adam, but with a thinner face and more muscled, like someone who’s had to work a lot. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his pants looked like something from pictures my grandma showed me of my grandpa. His leg looked muscled too.”

  “He showed you his leg?” Shawna barely got the words out of her mouth before erupting into another fit of laughter.

  “Yeah,” said Tori, remembering how Jared had tried to show her a missing leg. But it was there, muscled and whole.

  “Okay, okay. What are you going to do about getting him out of the lantern and stretching him out into a full-sized hottie?”

  Tori frowned. “Don’t know. I haven’t worked that part out yet. Right now I need to make sure I can go back and visit him again without getting caught.”

  Tori met her grandmother in the library to fill her in on the most recent updates.

  “Then the stethoscope worked? You could hear the boy?” Tori’s grandmother adjusted her eyeglasses.

  “It worked perfectly. I’ll leave the tools here tonight, though. They didn’t work and Jared told me the lantern was made out of material so dense it couldn’t be opened.”

  “Then how is it that he got inside?”

  “He started telling me a story of how he apprenticed under some guy named Machin who worked on mechanical devices and had a bunch of lanterns in his shop. Jared opened a lantern by making light bend through it. He didn’t give me the details on how that worked, exactly, but whatever he did must have opened the lantern and pulled him inside. He said that was the last thing he remembered before meeting me. Grandma, I think he is the light inside the lantern. He’s what makes it shine.”

  Her grandmother pursed her lips. “It makes no logical sense; I know of no science that would back up what is happening here.” She pulled her shawl more tightly around her body. “But here’s what I think we should do.”

  Tori watched as her grandmother grabbed a notebook from a pile of books and handed it across the table.

  “Take this with you, Tori. Tonight when you visit Jared, I want you to take notes of everything he has to say, what he did to open the lantern—everything he can remember. In the meantime, I’ll conduct research here in the library and on the internet. Don’t think for a second that I haven’t kept up with technology. Some of my favorite medical journals are more conveniently perused online.”

  Tori grinned. “Sounds great.”

  “I wish I could give you a basket of food to give Jared, but I suppose it wouldn’t do him much good in his present form.”

  “He doesn’t seem hungry, just confused...and lonely.”

  “Well, then I think it’s wonderful he’s found you. Now, go spend some time with your parents before they go to bed. I’ll start researching. We’ll meet at the side door after everyone’s asleep.”

  “Okay, sounds good.” Tori gave her grandmother a light peck on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Grandma.”

  Tori exited the library and smiled to herself as she walked down the hallway. A collection of paintings lined the walls. She trailed a finger across the wooden frames as she passed, her socks slipping along the smoothness of the marble floor.

  She found her parents sitting together in front of the fireplace. Kimmy lay asleep in his mother’s arms. Tori plopped herself on an overstuffed chair next to the couch.

  “Hey, baby,” said her mother. “Your father and I have been talking, and we’re happy with the changes we’ve seen in you.”

  Tori’s cheeks flushed. Her chest sunk with guilt. They have no idea. But she was also grateful, because she and her grandmother had been successful—they hadn’t been caught.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, trying her best to sound indignant. She’d found something marvelous, an anomaly surrounding a person who needed her help. And she would have told them all about it, if they would only
listen.

  Her father gazed at the fireplace. Flames reflected in his eyes. “Halloween’s just a couple nights away, hon. If you’re still up for taking Kimmy trick-or-treating—”

  “I am.” Tori smiled as she looked at her brother’s face. His long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. “He’s going to love it.”

  She felt a gentle pressure in her chest, a dipping of her heart. Taking her brother out for the night meant less time to spend with Jared. He’d be alone for Halloween unless she could figure out a way to help him escape the lantern by then.

  Chapter 10

  The glow of the lantern warmed the clearing more than the night before. Tori sat on a patch of leaves with the lantern nestled in her lap. Leaving that night, undetected by her parents, had been easy, especially now that she and her grandmother had a tried and true plan.

  Tori told Jared about her parents’ aversion to her wandering outside late at night. She’d expected him to praise her sacrifice or at least look grateful. But he frowned instead.

  “They care for you.” Jared spoke into the stethoscope’s chest piece that Tori had pressed against the glass. His forehead creased.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I wonder if my parents worried for me the way yours fear for you.”

  Tori blinked, her lips suddenly dry. “You didn’t know them?”

  “They died when I was only three. My sister, Moretta, began working as a seamstress at the age of nine to support us.”

  He lost his parents when he was Kimmy’s age. Tori’s cheeks sagged. “I’m sorry. I’ll bet you and your sister were close, seeing as she helped take care of you.”

  Jared scratched his head. The motion was both concerning and adorable. “We weren’t close. She hates me.”