Ben pulled to a stop at the back stairwell, and the engine grew steadily louder, every moment that he idled, with the RPMs building, like the turbofans of an Airbus poised for takeoff, because the butterfly valve in the sixty year old carburetor was sticking again.
Zoey tossed her fully laden backpack into the bed of the truck and hopped into the cab so Ben could shift the foolish thing into first gear before the engine could explode.
As they pulled out Ben glanced over his shoulder at the rear window overlooking the truck bed and said, "Couldn't help but notice you packed your life's possessions."
"Nothing like. I brought my tent, a stove, some freeze-dried soup, and a change of clothes. As our Quileute tour guide advised. Just in case this morning trek turns into a multi-day expedition. I've also packed ninety meters of rope and an assortment of chocks and cams."
"What? No free-soloing today?"
She laughed gaily at that and said, "Hell, no. Ben, I know it's been only two months since my birthday, but there's no way I could do El Cap this morning. People in Forks love to eat."
"Nothing better to do," he concurred.
"Sara Newton has fattened me up for slaughter," Zoey fretted.
He glanced skeptically at her wiry, sharply muscled frame and burst out laughing.
She glowered at him and insisted, "I'm serious, Mr. Swan. I'll have you know, my free-solo heroics just might be over. My body has conspired a mutiny against my brain and entered a new phase. I finally got my scarlet letter."
He frowned quizzically, as he pulled out onto the road.
She explained, "My period."
"Oh! Okay. Well, I didn't know that was a question mark. And I didn't realize things with Chief Jacob were going that well."
Zoey gagged and shook her head at the hopeless density of boys' brains. "No, Ben," she managed, when she recovered. "You misunderstand. I mean, I got my first period ever."
"Ahh," he said, soberly. "Well, I... don't know what to say. What's appropriate for this occasion? Congratulations?"
Zoey shrugged. "As good as anything. Kira was relieved to hear it yesterday, when she called me at your house and I broke the news that I've finally hit menarche. I'm eighteen. That makes me a statistical outlier. She'd been telling Casimir that she suspected I was born without ovaries."
Ben clinically provided, "You've been trying to slow down and be sluglike this summer. I guess you succeeded at that, and your body leapt on the opportunity to play catch-up. It's actually not too surprising that it took this long. They say that a delay in puberty is common for super-athletes."
"That's what my physician told Kira this spring. But I'm no super-athlete. I'm just Zoey."
"You know, this essentially means you've earned five or six years of extended youth. You'll be fertile into your fifties."
"Yay."
He chuckled at her and had a new thought. "I don't suppose you've talked to Jake about this stuff."
Zoey scoffed, "Right. As if I could talk about my menstrual cycle with a boy." Then she glanced at him and gulped. She quietly added. "You're different. You're a boy; I know that. A man, in fact. But there's nothing I can't tell you."
"Evidently."
"Besides, things aren't exactly hunkydory with Chief Jacob. Last night I tried to let the poor boy down gently."
"Oh? How'd that go?"
"I'm sure you can imagine," she said, glumly.
"Yeah, I suppose I can."
"But it had to be done. This is my last week in Forks. You and I both know first-hand that fifteen hundred mile relationships are categorically impractical."
"You have your ticket, yet?"
"Yup."
Ben didn't ask for the day. He didn't want to know. He wanted to take each day as it came.
Zoey exhaled for about thirty seconds and amused herself with the notion that her lungs were shriveled up like empty balloons in her hollow darkened chest. Then she said, "I noticed back in the parking lot that you've packed a tent, too."
"I did," he briskly confirmed. "Like you, just in case. To keep the options open, as it were. So, are we committed? To the vale?"
"Definitely," she said, without hesitation.
He nodded and pressed, "You sure? The Delta monoliths sounded like a compelling alternative to me. More accessible. With parking and everything."
Zoey briefly wondered whether Ben was having misgivings about committing to what could be an arduous hike, and she contemplated the true extent of his recovery from the injuries he'd suffered back in the spring. But then she recalled Leah Clearwater, impossibly perched atop the faux rock wall, warning her to stay away from the vale and catch a plane immediately back to Arizona. No way in hell, would she give Leah the satisfaction of complying. She decided that she would carry him piggyback, if necessary. She said, "To hell with all of them, Ben. We stick to the plan."
He grinned and said, "Yeah."
They rumbled down the road in natural air conditioning, with both windows open to the warm, humid morning. The sky was overcast, as ever for this region, but today they could expect muggy air, mostly free of outright rain. They had done well to wait. And best of all, they didn't have Jake, tagging along like an aggrieved puppy and making a nuisance of himself.
Ben's phone and navigation app took them as far as the unpaved fire road. From there, they were on their own. She bemoaned the lack of a shoulder belt. The lap belts and bench seat in the ancient cabin provided no security whatsoever, and she had to brace herself with hands on the dash and B-pillar, just to keep herself upright. And this was less than one hundred yards from the end of the road.
He recalled on his last road trip to the vale that Edythe had crawled several miles up this fire road, until it had deteriorated to the width of a footpath. But they had been wearing five-point off-road harnesses in Emelia's military grade Humvee.
The stalwart Chevy's leaf springs groaned in protest with every jarring bump, and the front wheel wells bottomed out in a couple drainage ditches that crossed the path. Still he plodded on and insisted that they could cover several miles in the truck and spare themselves hours of trekking time.
Less than half a mile up the fire road, she worriedly asked, "Mr. Swan, you have done this before, right?"
"Not in this truck," he admitted, as the entire cab tilted precariously sideways.
She quietly said, "Because, this isn't a road anymore."
He nodded and reduced to first gear.
Thirty seconds later, they both winced with fright at the awful shriek of rock on tortured iron, beneath their seats.
"Ben. These boulders are going to breach the oil pan. Or worse." She didn't tell him what might happen if they ripped open the gas tank.
He gulped and nodded. He murmured, "You're right. I'm sorry. I misjudged."
"It's okay. All good."
He stopped, stomped hard on the emergency brake, and shut off the ignition. They still had a full car width on the fire road, but he couldn't trust himself to try a three point turn. He couldn't imagine how they'd get the truck back down to the paved section of the road.
They were surrounded by merciful silence that ceded in seconds to birdsong and chirping insects. They had covered just about a half mile, from the end of the pavement to their present destination.
He didn't want to think about the distance that Edythe had covered in the Humvee, back in early May. Nine miles? Ten? And that would only take them to the start of the dotted trail that he had imagined yesterday, which he had scrawled on the map with the blue marker. For how many additional miles had he ridden piggyback on Edythe, with his eyes closed? He didn't have the slightest clue.
"Umm, Zoey... maybe we miscalculated. The Delta monoliths are looking kind of good right now."
"No. No way, Ben. There is no way we're not doing this."
He knew that tone. This was a debate he wouldn't win. He gave up before he started. They got out, hoisted their backpacks, and started their long trek up the fire road.
_________
Back in May, the vale had been graced with a photogenic fairy pond, bordered by fresh wild blooms of cacophonous variety. Now in late August, Lauren sat despondently at the edge of a depression of green muck, a rancid gazpacho of thick algae and withered lily pads that teemed with mosquitoes and damselflies.
She called out, to the counterfeit twins, "This was not part of the plan. We're supposed to be looking for Edythe Cullen. Or looking for proof that she's bugged out. This serves neither purpose."
Geoff called down from the top of the cliff, eight hundred feet above the summer swamp. "The plan changed. Though it would be great if Edy shows up for this show. That I'd love to see."
Lauren closed her eyes and endeavored to count the many facets of this tableau that tried her patience.
Somewhere above, but closer, Karl chimed in. "Whether she sees it or not, the Swan dies. I'll tear him to pieces. I am going to rip him limb from limb for this insult. Swan! Swan!"
Lauren shook her head and let him yell. The boy wouldn't be heedlessly marching up to his demise if he heard his name echoing across the valley by this idiot from ten miles away, but that was only the lesser of ironies. Karl, and depressingly impressionable Geoff, were ready to draw-and-quarter the boy for his alleged offense against their sweet cousin, Edythe 'Dollyface' Cullen: the very same woman whom they had come down to Forks to reconnoiter, in order to provide to Victor the crucial intelligence that he needed, so that he could finally kill her and avenge that miserable bitch, Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt.
All Lauren wanted was the blood of Vancouver. That was the only reason she'd consented to come.
Geoff, from the top of the cliff, advised Karl to pipe down, that they needed to be sneaky as mice, because the boy would be joining them presently.
"No, he won't," Lauren told them wearily.
They wanted to know why not.
"Because the vampires brought him here, last time. I've been down the valley to check their progress, while you two've been up here, whipping each other into a frenzy. He's alone with the human girl. In a Baroque truck that won't make it up the fire road. If Edythe Cullen doesn't come to aid them, they won't make it within five miles of this place, anytime before tomorrow."
Karl bellowed, "Then what are we doing here? Let's go to them!"
"We're not here for them. We're only here to see if Edythe shows up. And you'll do well to recall that just yesterday, you promised Alice that you wouldn't harm the boy."
"I did no such thing," said Karl.
"Geoff did."
Above them, from up on high, Geoff declared, "Null and void. Al's crystal ball is slick, I'll give her that, but she didn't foresee this gross betrayal by the Swan. All bets are off."
"You fools don't even know that he's cheating on your sweet cousin Edy. These two humans look like friends to me, not lovers."
"Oh, come on," Geoff scoffed. "Don't be naive."
"Swan! Swan!"
"Shut up, both of you," Lauren muttered. "I'm calling Victor."
_________
Lauren heard the call connect and immediately recognized something amiss. She heard jets. "Where are you, Victor?"
"At J.F.K. International, waiting for a nonstop flight to Rome."
"What? Why?"
"Because the hop to New York takes less time than waiting for a flight from Charlottesville to London, with another leg after that."
"No, Victor. I mean, why are you going to Italy? And if you've decided, why did you not tell me? Why am I still here in this decrepit no-man's land?"
"I haven't decided," Victor maintained. "I don't have to decide anything until I step foot in Volterra. I had to get out of Oklahoma City. I was being boxed. And now I have to stay on the move."
Lauren silently considered this. Victor's knack for crisis avoidance and survival sometimes bordered on the miraculous.
Victor quietly asked, "Where are you, Lauren? Have you news?"
"I am in the vale, the place of the rock wall and waterfall."
"The same place?"
"Yes, Victor. The place where we found them. The boy is determined to come here. He is on the way, but not with Edythe Cullen. He is accompanied by a human friend."
"And the Dollyface is joining him?"
"I don't know. I have found no trace of her. But I have not ruled it out."
"The boy's friend. What does she look like?"
"Slight of build. Very muscular, strong and agile, for a human. Fair of skin and features. Light hair, lemon yellow, almost lemon-white."
Victor hissed.
"What is it?" Lauren demanded.
"Are you certain she is human?"
"What do you mean, Victor?"
"Just what I said! Is she human? Are you absolutely certain?"
"I have not been close. But I do believe she is human."
"Don't be so sure. Even in Yosemite, I suspected. The girl who climbed the giant cliff. Something no human had ever done. Even then I suspected she might not have been human, at all. That she could have been one of our kind, masquerading as a human girl."
"Victor, really, what are you saying?"
"You must be sure of what she is. Assume nothing! The boy could be guarded, even now. The Cullens are in league with a witch. A white haired witch who can perceive us and find us, anywhere on earth."
Lauren scoffed, "Please, Victor. Listen to yourself. This is madness."
"No! It is not. She has found me everywhere. Everywhere I run, she is there. Waiting for me. In Chile, in Alaska, at the bottom of the sea. But I have not seen her all summer. She could be with the boy. She could be guarding that boy, for Edythe. You could be in terrible danger!"
Lauren doubtfully said, "I am with Geoff and Karl. They have been observing as well. Karl got close to this witch. He says she is a human acrobat with emerald green eyes."
"That means nothing. She has many guises. She can flush her cheeks, as though blood flows in her veins. We know that the Cullens can alter their eyes with some black magic; if they can, so can she. Don't you hear me? I haven't seen the witch in months. She must be guarding the boy, camouflaged as a human."
Lauren shook her head with frustration. "I've tried to help you, Victor. We walked the earth together for a time, and I do feel for your loss of Artemis, but that entitles you to only so much. I am weary of this place, and your words savor of madness."
"You want the cities, do you not? Vancouver and SeaTac are not yours to claim, if the Cullens have not truly left. The witch is in league with the Cullens. You must learn and know, Lauren. You must observe, and you must be sure."
"Do you think that our friendship entitles you to manipulate me this way? Maybe I don't want Vancouver this badly. You overstep, Victor. Always, you overstep."
"And so have you, if the fair haired girl is not human. If she is the witch, she already knows you, and there will be no hiding from her, anywhere on earth. Observe, friend Lauren. Observe, and be sure. The answer to this question affects us all. I will be on my way to Italy, but I will await your call."
No sooner did Lauren hang up than Karl stood on the ground with her, having leapt from the wall. He cursed and walked right by her, on the way toward the eastern trail. Geoff laughed from atop the cliff and pointedly asked him what he thought he was doing.
He threw a hand contemptuously at Lauren and muttered, "What are we even listening to her for? I'm going down there to see for myself."
Geoff laughed again and warned, "You can't hurt him. Edy would be so pissed."
"Then where is she? Victor and this pal of his think she's hiding behind every tree. How I ever got dragged into this"–
"You wanted to come."
"Oh, spare me." He descended the lawn into the woods.
Lauren called up to Geoff. "Do something. You can't just let him go. We're supposed to be looking for Edy. Karl's obsessed with the Swan boy."
Geoff landed on the ground beside her with a jarring thud that shook the ground for a hundred yards. "I'll shadow him. I'll remind him to keep his hands off. And I'll keep watch for Edy. Happy?"
"Hardly."
_________
"Jasper," Alice hissed.
He sat frozen, against the brick wall, in the alley, rigid with stress. He hadn't moved in fourteen hours.
"Jasper!"
He looked up at her, eyes wild.
"Everything's changing. It's all changing, and we have to move. We should have moved long ago."
"But where? Victor. Has he decided?"
"No."
"We've chased him over the entire continent. If he bolts, we're right back to square one. Or worse, we risk chasing him to Volterra, where the best we can hope for is that he'll be untouchable. We must wait for him to decide."
"I don't think so. If he has the high ground, and he can see us move, then fine. We run north, let ourselves be seen, and we flush him out."
"We could box him with one more. But Carlisle and Esme are feckless; if only we had Edythe"–
"Edythe is with Ben, exactly where she needs to be. It's us, Jasper. It's up to us."
"Are you sure you're right about this? Are you absolutely certain?"
"I am not sure of anything. I have no answers. But I feel strongly that we should be moving."
"Your talent? Or woman's intuition?"
"I don't know."
Jasper roared with fury, hopped to his feet, and leapt to the top of the building. He panned the northern horizon in search of a watcher on a high perch, and he saw nothing.
Alice stood with him in an instant. She lamented, "Too late. We moved too late."
"No," said Jasper. "No."
And they were off. They raced northward, in great leaps from building to building, in the light of mid-morning, heedless of possible human observers.
In minutes they reached the storage field of the refinery, with its giant tanks and their panoramic views of the entire countryside.
In no time they found Victor's scent, at the tallest tank of all. Alice paced the tank's ground level perimeter, watchful should Victor leap, while Jasper raced to the top, to entrap him.
Moments later he returned to ground, spitting. "Gone! Gone!"
Alice slowed and studied the ground with penetrating scrutiny. Jasper joined her, and together they triangulated on the last concentration of Victor's scent, which disappeared where tire tracks commenced.
Jasper demanded, "Where has he gone?"
Alice cried, "I'm no help. I tell you, he hasn't decided."
"Then he flies, in great haste, undecided. Either way, he's good as gone."
He paced, galvanized with fury, and pondered, while Alice watched, rendered impotent by her over-reliance on a talent for prescience that currently eluded her.
Jasper stopped and said, "He fears Edythe, and he won't attack her without allies. Italy must be his fallback plan. Damn Maria to hell, for putting that notion in his head. But he hasn't decided, you say. Fair enough. Until he decides, he'll be heading for a plane to Italy."
"If he's not already on one," said Alice dismally.
"Then we run. Look for the fastest commercial route from here to Rome. We'll find him somewhere on it."
Now that they were moving and being proactive, a semblance of camaraderie returned. Alice gamely asked, as she burrowed for her phone, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?"
Jasper laughed grimly and said, "We're going to kill him. And we're going to take our sweet time, doing it."
_________
The last time Ben had traveled the fire road toward the vale, he had missed a lot, having been strapped securely into an offroad truck. The road was paved with forty pound crushed rock, to stem erosion, punctuated by jagged boulders. Trees and scrub imposed upon them from all sides like a slow chokehold. Deep rock-lined rain gutters crossed the trail at regular intervals, requiring the weary travelers to scrabble.
They managed to ascend perhaps a mile from the sidelined Chevy and sat down on a broad flat boulder, set right across the path. Without a word, they broke out water bottles and snacks.
"You've really been to this place?" Zoey asked.
"Back in early May, yeah."
"What did you ride in? A tank?"
He grunted, "You're not far off."
She mused, "I was thinking we'd take a day to get there, camp at the base, and maybe do some recreational bouldering for a few hours tomorrow before starting back. At this rate it'll take two days just to find the place."
Ben nodded wordlessly.
She looked more intently at him and softly said, "You were half dead not too long ago. You look a lot better, so it's easy to forget. How are you doing?"
"Don't worry about me," he quietly replied. "I'm good."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Fully recovered. Honest. Hey, I hiked the Ribbon Gorge. Two months ago."
"I remember. I was furious that Jake and the Outside reporter left you behind. Ben, that's a groomed tourist trail. This is nuts. Only in Forks could anyone call this a fire road. The whole state would burn down before you could get a water tank up here."
"I suspect it's snowbound for half the year," Ben speculated.
Zoey silently decided to wait for Ben to stand and commit to continuing up the trail. He seemed disinclined to move.
They enjoyed the silence of the imposing forest. The bugs were less oppressive than Zoey would have expected, and she attributed the absence of birdsong to their presence, and all their racket and clamor getting this far. She inquired as to how much farther they had on the fire road. He said that he couldn't honestly recall. He remembered that it dwindled down to little more than a foot trail, but that they had never actually seen the end of the trail. Zoey knew that this meant they had stopped arbitrarily and struck off on foot at some random, unmarked section of the road. It could have been anywhere.
She suspected correctly that Ben was silently realizing the futility of this exercise and couldn't motivate himself to continue.
She idly juggled a half-full Nalgene bottle and said, "I've got an observation that could put a positive spin on this adventure. A first, of sorts. If you're prepared to hear it."
"Hit me," he gamely urged.
"You don't seem to be peeking around rocks and trees in search of Edythe." She watched him intently, for his reaction.
He grunted, smiled and asked, "Does it seem that way?"
She caught the bottle, balanced it on a finger, nearly dropped it, and watched him.
He said, "I've been dumpy and morose. All into myself. It hasn't been fair to you."
Zoey softly argued, "Only at my insistence. Our homework assignment, remember? I had it coming to me."
He shrugged. Maybe they had imposed the assignment on each other, and maybe they had both deserved their penance. He supposed they would look back on the last two months and add them to the long tally of squandered summers.
"I still can't tell you what Edythe is. Maybe that day will never come. I've pledged to keep her secrets forever. You would only learn the truth from some external influence, and I can't imagine what those circumstances would be. I hope to never find out. But there is something I'd like to tell you, about her. Pertaining to the whole business of peeking around rocks and trees."
Zoey kicked at pebbles. "You haven't told me much about what's really going on, but you did say you can finally admit she's gone."
He nodded and said, "Yeah. Pretty sure."
"Just... 'pretty sure.' Not absolutely sure?"
He chewed on his tongue for a minute, while she nudged pebbles and grit in a declivity between two boulders. He said, "Back in the winter and early spring, when she ignored me for two months and pretty much disappeared... do you remember?"
"Yes. The Era of Silence."
Ben nodded dismally. He said, "And even before that... before I even met her... before I even arrived in Forks... she was always there."
"What?" Her eyes shot up to his, deep consternation. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, she was literally always there. Watching."
"From where?"
"At first, from the trees in my yard. But later, she came into my room. To watch me."
"In your room?"
"She would guard me all night. Every night. On my mother's rocking chair. And sometimes... sometimes also on my bed. Sort of like a guardian angel."
Zoey whispered, "That's what I thought she was. At first. Before they burned down Scottsdale and nearly got you killed."
Ben nodded. "I thought so, too. Because she didn't just watch me. And guard me. She also saved me. Remember when I was attacked by the tree, and I pulled her to safety? Well that wasn't entirely accurate. It was the reverse."
"She pulled you to safety?"
"There were other times, too. That she saved me. I... I can't talk about them. I can't even bear remembering them. Even the tree, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that. I was supposed to keep it a secret forever. But you know so much, and you need to understand, and besides, she really is gone. I'm pretty sure.
"I'm telling you this now so you'll understand it's not completely neurotic, the way I'm constantly looking for her. She watched me constantly through that time, concealed. For months. And I never knew it. I don't think I ever would have known. She sort of confessed it to me one night. Shortly before the whole Phoenix thing happened. She told me that the more I knew about her, the more dangerous it would be for me. I had no idea at the time how literally true that was. God was it ever true. She told me what she is and took me to meet her family, and the very same day, everything fell apart. But not by them. External forces. It's almost like they live on a separate universe, contiguous with ours, and that universe can't tolerate our knowing about it."
He lapsed to silence. She stared at him, at a loss for words.
He said, "That's why I'm so reluctant to tell you what she is. Zoey, it's not that I don't trust you. I do. It's more that, I think her world might somehow know. It's like they're on a hidden plane, right beside us, and they hear everything. It's like, if I share any more of it with you, they're going to swoop in and sweep us up, to preserve their secrets. I'm so afraid that maybe I've told you too much, already. It feels like they could be listening, right now."
He muttered to himself, glanced up at the gray sky, and abruptly hopped onto his feet. It was past noon. They had to move, if they had any hope of reaching the vale before nightfall.
Zoey stood, too. They wordlessly resumed their scrabbling up the steep, forbidding fire road.
She ventured, "Do you mind if I ask you something? Not about them, or what they are. About you. And your relationship with Edythe."
Ben nodded. It felt good to share it, and mitigate it, to the degree that he was able, and whom better, to share it with, than his lifelong friend?
"You haven't said anything about the breakup, and how it happened... who broke up with whom, I mean. Was it you?"
He shook his head and emphatically insisted, "Neither. We didn't break up."
"Ben...."
"No, really. It wasn't like that. We were having difficulties. About our differences. I'm sorry; I can't be more specific than that. But you must realize that in some ways Edythe and I are nothing alike. Just from the few things I've told you. Like how they don't seem to age, and some of them are older than history."
"Yes, you say Aphrodite was named after one of them."
He nodded and acknowledged, "I know it sounds crazy. But we needed to sort out our differences. Edythe was so obsessive about watching over me and caring for me...through my injury and recovery... that she was neglecting herself. And that was unacceptable to me, because I care about her, too. And we had differences over that."
"This was all on the way back from Yosemite, correct?"
"Yes, but Yosemite, and your climb of Freerider, that had nothing to do with"–
"I had nothing to do with this?"
"No! No, Zoey. Seriously. It was entirely between us."
"And she had no problems with my moving up here for the summer?"
His breath caught, and he stammered, "She was jealous of you, sure. But that had nothing to do with"–
"With Edythe neglecting herself? Hurting herself? Benjamin... did Edythe hurt herself?"
"Not on purpose. Zoey, I know what it sounds like. But I didn't dump her, or vice versa. I only needed her... to stop... hurting herself. I needed her... to feed."
"To feed? What? She was on some kind of hunger strike?"
"You don't understand."
"It's true. I don't. You really don't know her whereabouts? You only think she could be watching? Ben, do you know where she is?"
"All summer I thought she was with me. I thought I was going crazy."
"Have you talked to her family? Her parents? That sister with the spiky hair? Do they know where she is?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to them."
"Ben, could Edythe be suicidal?"
His mouth opened and closed several times.
She watched him, and she knew that he didn't want to answer.
Ben recalled their conversation back in the spring, during his recovery, when she had confided what she would have done to herself, had she lost him to Jillian. But she had also conceded to him that suicide was all too likely impossible for their kind, not even achievable within active volcanoes. She had also told him that he would never be able to disavow his love for her and dump her, because she would only laugh in his face. She had told him that she would never believe it. That he was stuck with her forever, a perpetual nuisance.
"Ben?"
He said to waiting Zoey, "It doesn't matter. Their kind can't commit suicide."
"What?"
"It's impossible for them. Even if they wanted to... even if she wanted to, she can't. It's impossible. Her body would never allow it. No matter what."
Somehow they were sitting again, on another boulder.
Zoey produced some bug spray. The mosquitoes were coming out. A hot, humid August afternoon. She applied a transparent layer to her arms, legs and neck. Then she handed the bottle to Ben. She watched him until he handed it back. She returned it to her pack, thought about all that he had said, and tried to deduce their nature. Leah Clearwater had mockingly called herself a werewolf, and themselves vampires. What did those words mean? How did those antiquated terms from primitive legends translate to familiar aspects of nature in the twenty-first century?
"So, you're not concerned at all... that she could be...."
"She's not dead. She's alive."
Zoey nodded. She wouldn't argue with him on that point. She could see that he couldn't cope with the possibility. She could see him falling apart.
"But you really didn't dump her, or send her away."
"Definitely not."
"So she could be truly watching us. From the tops of the trees, or whatever. Like before. Like, she could be sort of going through stuff again. Another Era of Silence."
He didn't move his head, but she could see his eyes panning the trees from under his lashes. He muttered, "Maybe."
"And you love her."
"Absolutely."
Zoey nodded and took a deep breath. "Even though she's not... human."
"Yes."
"Are you telling me? Or are you telling her, in the trees, in case she's listening?"
"Both," he admitted.
Ben and Zoey stared emptily at the movement of shadow across the fractured rock paving and at some point shared another application of bug spray.
"This is crazy," she declared, leaping to her feet.
He looked up with alarm.
"We'll never find this vale of yours. And Edythe Cullen's not there."
"I know that," he said resentfully. "That's not what this is about. Well... not entirely," he admitted on reflection.
Zoey nodded and smiled easily. "I know this is a sentimental journey for you, Ben. I'm no fool. There's no way you ever would have found the place on your own. And we're not going to find it, anytime before midnight."
"I really mostly wanted to take you on some real rock climbing."
"True," she agreed, "and I totally believe your sincerity." She reached for his hands and pulled him up onto his feet. "But we do have another option. I'm thinking if we start down right now, and don't stop, we might be able to reach the ocean for low tide."
"The Delta monoliths? Zoey, you were dead set against that plan."
"Only because it was Jake's idea, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning. But it's a good plan. I've known as much all along. And look on the bright side. You'll never find Edythe lurking in this primeval forest. Down at the ocean, she'll have nowhere to hide. You'll find her for sure."
He groaned and lauded, "You're being a real sport about all of this."
"It's all an act," she said with a wink. "But you've had to put up with watching Chief Jacob's paws all over me. Ben, we knew from the start that this homework assignment would be complete unmitigated hell. To heck with it. Let's go. Show me these monoliths."
_________
Lauren heard the counterfeit twins returning to the vale, but all the same she was struck by the decorum of their manner, and especially by Karl's remarkable absence of vitriol.
Geoff emerged into the vale first and sauntered to her side.
Karl kept coming, walked into the thick cloying bog, planked himself, and fell face-first into the mire.
Lauren groaned, "Oh, Karl. Won't you ever grow up?"
"Never," he said, in the muck.
Geoff explained, "You were right. The Swan and that girl are only chums."
Karl spat out a mouthful of algae and rolled onto his back. "They're not just chums at all. But that is what they choose to be."
"It amounts to the same thing," Geoff insisted.
Before they could get into a tussle over it, Lauren said, "But either way, there is no infidelity to your dear sweet cousin?"
Karl conceded, "That addled, dissolute boy is utterly besotted for Edy. I wanted to gag."
There was no pleasing him.
"When will they be here?" she asked.
"They won't be," Geoff said. "You were right. They gave up. Miles down the fire road. At the rate they were moving, it would have taken them a week."
"And Edy never appeared?"
"She's not coming, either. How they knew that, I can't imagine."
Lauren speculated, "Maybe the girl is a witchy vampire in disguise, as Victor suggested."
"No, no. She's human," said Karl.
"He told us she has many concealments."
"He's a raving nutcase. I'm telling you, that girl is one hundred percent Grade-A homo sapiens. I should know. I've had enough of them. Besides, she and the Swan have known each other since they were babies." He made another gagging sound.
She pulled out her phone. "So, what do I tell Victor? The coast is clear in Forks, and Edy must be on his tail, boxing him in?"
"Not so fast," Geoff advised. "Put your phone away. They're going back to the truck and headed somewhere else, where they expect Edy to turn up."
"Where?"
"I don't know. Something about monoliths. Rocks to climb on. I don't know what it is, with humans and rocks."
"But where, damn it?"
"I said, I don't know. We can catch up to the Swan's antique truck and follow them."
_______________
Next: Chapter 40, MONOLITH.