“But the map stops, and the Great Barrier isn't on it. So how is anyone supposed to find it?” Liv sighed.
“My mom could. She knew how to find it without the star.” I wished she were here right now, even a ghostly vision of her made from smoke and graveyard dirt and chicken bones.
“Did you read that in her papers?”
“No. It was something John said to Lena.” I didn't want to think about it, even if the information was useful. “Where are we again, according to the map?”
She pointed. “Right there.” We had reached the long curving line that followed the inlets of the southern shore. Caster connections wove their way together and apart until they met at the edge of the water like nerve endings.
“What are these little shapes? Islands?” Liv chewed on the end of her pen.
“Those are the Sea Islands.”
Liv leaned over me. “Why do they look so familiar?”
“I've been wondering that, too. I thought it was from staring at the map for so long.”
It was true. I knew those shapes, curving in and out like a group of lopsided clouds. Where had I seen them before?
I pulled a handful of papers — my mother's papers — out of my back pocket. There it was, tucked between pages. The sheet of vellum covered with a strange Caster design that looked like weird clouds.
She knew how to find it, without the star.
“Hold on —” I slid the vellum on top of the map. It was like tracing paper, thin as an onion skin on Amma's cutting board.
“I wonder …” I slipped the translucent sheet into place over the map, the outlines of each shape on the vellum lining up perfectly with the shape on the chart beneath it. Except for one, which materialized in a sort of ghostly silhouette, only appearing when the partial outline of the map grid met the partial outline of the vellum. Without both the vellum and the map, the lines looked like meaningless scribbles.
But when you held them just right, it all came together, and you could see the island.
Like two halves of a Caster key, or two universes stitched together for one common purpose.
The Great Barrier was hidden in the middle of a Mortal coastal chain. Of course it was.
I stared at the ink on the page, and beneath it.
There it was. The most powerful place in the Caster world, appearing through pen and paper as if by magic.
Hidden in plain sight.
6.20
No One's Son
The door itself wasn't that unusual.
Neither was the Doorwell leading up to it, or the curving passage we had followed to find our way here. Twist after turn through corridors built from crumbling rocks and dirt and splintering wood. This is what tunnels were supposed to feel like — damp and dark and tight. It was almost like the day Link and I followed a stray dog into one of the runoff tunnels in Summerville.
I guess the strangest thing was how ordinary everything seemed, now that we had figured out the secret to the map. Following it was the easy part.
Until now.
“That's it. It has to be.” Liv looked up from the map. I stared past her to where a wooden staircase led up to streaks of light, forming the outline of a door in the darkness.
“You sure?”
She nodded and slid the map into her pocket.
“Then let's see what's out there.” I climbed the steps to the door.
“Not so fast, Short Straw. What do you think is on the other side of that door?” Ridley was stalling. She looked as nervous as I felt.
Liv studied the door. “According to the legends, old magic, neither Light or Dark.”
Ridley shook her head. “You have no idea what you're talking about, Keeper. Old magic is wild. It's infinite. Chaos in its purest form. Not exactly the combination for a happy ending to your little quest.”
I moved closer to the door. Liv and Link were right behind me. “Come on, Rid. You want to help Lena or not?” Link's voice echoed off the walls.
“I was just saying …” I could hear the fear in Ridley's voice. I tried not to think about the last time she sounded this scared, when she faced Sarafine in the woods.
I pushed the door and it creaked, the worn wood bending and straining. Another try and it would open. We would be there, wherever there was. The Great Barrier.
I wasn't scared. I don't know why. But I wasn't thinking about entering a magical universe when I forced the door open. I was thinking about home. The wooden panel wasn't all that different from the Outer Door we found at the fairgrounds, under the Tunnel of Love. Maybe it was a sign — something from the beginning reappearing at the end. I wondered if it was a good omen or a bad one.
It didn't matter what was on the other side of the door. Lena was waiting. She needed me, whether she knew it or not.
There was no turning back.
I leaned against the panel, and it swung open. The crack of light opened into a blinding field of white.