61

Missing and Presumed Undead

Later that night in bed, Lottica’s curiosity competed with her need to sleep. She lay in bed, the brunt of the storm long since passed, her thoughts fixated on the stained glass square of the star-bursting boy and girl. The missing piece. Even though they now had it in their possession, how it solved the puzzle of the Astreima wasn’t clear.

Lottica wished that Heidein had explained his strange remark about the missing piece being the end of the beginning, but he’d only told them how he’d found the package under the front passenger seat of Beilla’s airplane. Its presence was a mystery to him. He didn’t know why Beilla would leave it there, and questioned whether it was, indeed, the long-stolen pane from the Breima library. He would need Weirhamatt's expertise to verify that.

He’d gone on to say that the blasting cap was a more troublesome discovery to him. He believed it meant Beilla thought he knew where the Astreima was located and that reaching it would require blasting. Heidein had expressed his worry that Beilla was becoming more and more unstable. Much like the explosives he carried.

Listening to the rain falling outside her window, the thought of Beilla and explosives worried Lottica, too. Only months ago, Beilla had blown up her house along with her parents. She tried to calm herself and think it all through. She was hoping that a flash of inspiration like the kind that always struck the characters in her favorite dead-parent stories would strike her too. Then, she’d have that aha! moment of clarity, enabling her to get to the happy ending of finding her parents.

But Lottica knew she was in uncharted territory as far as storybooks went. She was living and undead-parent story. It muddled things. Especially, her thinking.

So she began counting backward to clear her mind, concentrating on the key points of the mystery of the lifestones: Kareima, Fareima, Astreima, Feodeim, Hawk, Raven. Each element ticked in her mind like clockwork, but nothing seemed to move her closer to the all-important time when she figured out how to save her parents.

She sighed and rolled over, looking toward the narrow window and into the darkness and pattering rain. She felt very alone, an orphan feeling, made worse by the uncertainty of all that was before her. And all she needed to do. It would be easy to give into tears and feel sorry for herself, but she fought the urge. She had to be tough. For herself and for her parents.

KABOOM!

Lottica bolted upright. The explosive roar should have terrified her. Should have made her shriek. Instead, she bravely went to the window and stared into the darkness.

It would have been logical to attribute that far-off boom to the trailing edge of the thunderstorm. But, as Lottica surveyed the raven-black of the sky outside, she sensed that this particular explosion had nothing to do with the retreating thunderstorm, and everything to do with Beilla.