Riddle Me This?

Chapter 20

 My jeans were stiff with grime two mornings later as we kicked up dirt on our path beside the road. "Why no one is around is what I want to know." The quiet had lost its eeriness.
Noam pulled his compass out. "The whole nation's coming to a standstill over this."
And for what? "Like we have anything to show for our trouble." At this point, heading to the capital just meant hurrying some bad news.
"I just wonder where Barney got his information from." Meris sighed. "What he knew was just so completely wrong, and that really isn't his fault."
Guess she regrets almost cutting his throat.
"It's not, but still, what are we supposed to do?" Matt asked.
Good question. I stretched. "Well, Barney couldn't have been the only person who knew, right?"
Meris rolled her eyes. "I suppose not."
"We have to do something." My stomach flipped over at the mental image of Naolon forces marching through Salt's Creek. "Our home's in trouble, too."
"I wish we had a clearer idea of where to look," Noam said. "Dupree wasn't..." He trailed off.
Too polite as always. "He wasn't super-clear on what he was talking about. His clues were obscure and I really don't think the riddle was meant to go this long without being found."
"And it's not like we had a plan for not having something you were told was available," Matt added.
"Well, regardless of what we do next, we don't need to stay out in the open much longer." Noam looked up the side of the road at a shack perched on the hill, just as a soft sound came down the road. Footsteps. Hooves pounding the ground and jingling, still far enough off, but getting louder. "Good timing, once again."
"Is that an outhouse?" Matt asked, squinting at the shack as we hurried up the hill.
"Is that really important, Matthew?" Meris huffed once, but her voice held an edge of fear that was getting pretty familiar from her.
He didn't answer for a moment. "It might be."
Hope bloomed inside. What if...?
Noam got to the door first and flung it open. We pressed in, close, and a green uniform caught the edge of my vision as I pulled the door shut.
Matt's harsh whisper broke the silence. "Is the door locked?"
A little switch looking thing, like the deadbolt on my front door at home, stuck out about halfway up the door. I turned it, and the bolt slid into place. It hadn't stuck. Someone had use it recently, or was keeping it oiled. "It is now."
But for how long? The sounds of horses and footsteps got louder, and I knew they were just down that little ridge.
Please keep going, please keep going. . . .
The muffled command came then, and all the noises stopped.
None of us dared speak as two men began a conversation outside. My heart jumped hard as the unmistakable crunching gait of someone climbing a leaf-covered hill reached us.
Have to do something. My eyes, adjusted to the dim now, frantically searched the inside of the shack for anything. Another trap door, into a compartment or more caves, I didn't care. The footsteps got closer, heavy in the leaves. What was Matt thinking about this shack? couldn't ask him, but I might as well look.
And then, a difference along the back wall, something I hadn't seen before. The light. Not the gray-green light of branch-filtered sun, but harsh. I edged closer. A definite temperature change, much warmer. It might be. . . . I studied the wall. To one side, just visible and gouged into the wood, an eight-spoke wheel the size of a quarter, caught my attention. So obvious. So welcome. I tore my eyes away from it and dared a whisper.
"Look at this." The others turned as the footsteps crunched over the leaves and steadily approached the door of the shack. "The light's different. I think this might help us." Meris' face lit up, and maybe she had the same idea. A gate. Another one, to Earth, somewhere to hide temporarily. Please let this be right. The footfalls stopped outside the shack, and a hand pounded on the door.
"Come out of there," said the man. Alarm shot through my chest. Did he hear me?
No more time to waste. Meris pushed open the side of the outhouse gate, and the shack vibrated as the pounding on the front door started up. Noam closed the door behind us, sliding it into the frame.
Immediately, the heat of the sun pressed down on me. I scrabbled for my backpack straps and pulled it off, throwing it to the ground and shrugging out of the sweatshirt. As the black knit slid off my arms, the relief was immediate. Noam and Meris were both removing their coats, and Matt tossed his sweatshirt on the ground as we moved into the shade. Time to get some bearings.
The shack, probably supposed to be disguised as an outhouse on this side too, appeared to be the only thing around, except for another little structure off in the distance. A highway, two lanes along faded yellow markings, went off in either direction, visible for miles across the brown land. The rectangular black and white speed limit sign, far ahead and impossible to read from here, stood beside the highway, shadowed by mountains in the background.
A wooden sign across the road caught my gaze. I stared at the faded green on white paint. Moon-eye, 7 miles.
I glanced at Matt. He faced the sign, red-faced, sweat running down his face. His eyes met mine.
Moon-eye. That can't be right.
Meris was the first to speak. "Where is this?"
Hot, dry desert. But that speed limit sign was the same as every other one where I came from. "I think we're in the United States."
"Ah," she said. "Your country." A pause. "It's hot."
I laid my head against the rough wooden wall. "We must be out west somewhere. It's almost summer here." Water. I dug around in the backpack, rifling through the stiff blanket and empty burlap food wrappings. My hand closed down on the cool metal of my canteen.
"It looks like part of New Mexico." Matt took a drink.
The distant rush of wheels on asphalt came through the air. "How do you know?"
"I've been here." He put the canteen down. "Camping with my troop, remember?" He huffed a breath out. "This area looks pretty familiar, actually."
"Oh." I gulped a mouthful of water down, then another.
"How long should we wait here?" Noam asked.
A car on the road kept approaching us, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the glint of the sun off its windshield. "I guess maybe an hour. Make sure they're gone." If we don't melt first.
"They might follow us," Meris suggested.
Matt shook his head. "Well, if they haven't by now, I doubt they'd waste their time. They don't know what's on this side. I think finding us woulda been convenient for them. They'll move on if they need to, I bet."
The outline of the car was clear now. A truck, actually. Maybe the driver wouldn't see us. Maybe we'd just look like four kids waiting for a ride from our parents.
Like that's not suspicious enough this far from town.
Closer. Old and blue and completely hiding the driver. None of us moved.
Just look comfortable. Casual.
The rushing sound slowed, lowered in pitch, as the roaring engine drove behind us. Meris' grip tightened on her rifle.
Keep driving. We're unimportant.
It swept past, and the road was quiet again.
"We need to do something," Matt said. "We can't just sit here baking in the sun."
"Well we can't go back that way," Meris said.
"And why not, Meris?" Matt's jaw flexed.
Not this again.
"Because they'll probably search it, and I don't think we've given it long enough yet."
I rubbed my eyes. "So I guess we're just gonna sit here." My eyes feel on the other building. Weird place for anything to be built. Was that white paint on the side? I squinted.
Yes. White paint, in straight lines and circles, with letters painted above and below the shape, too faded to read from here. How did I not see that before? I got to my feet. "I think we need to check out that other building over there."
"What?" Meris asked. "Why?"
Matt followed my gaze, and his eyebrows rose. "Yeah. I think so too. Definitely."
"What do you see?" Meris asked.
I took another swallow of water. "The wheel painted on the side. Same thing was on the inside of the shack."
Noam stared at it. "I knew some of our people used it, but I never knew why. It does make more sense."
Matt looked back at the outhouse. "Well, that would explain this."
"What?" I turned. I'd missed it when we'd come through; we all had, I guessed. Another wheel, white on the wood. The paint had chipped, but it was the same. "Oh."
"It's a signal, then," Meris said. "And if it is used for transit between worlds...then the other one may be a gate as well."
"Or a drop-off point for supplies," Noam added.
Where would we end up if it's a gate? "Either way, it won't hurt to check it out," I said. "If it's empty or doesn't do anything, we'll just cool off there and come back. There's shade, at the very least."
"Works for me," Matt said. He glanced at the road sign to Moon-eye again, then looked back to me.
"Then we'll go there," Meris said.
Please let this be something. We crunched across the dirt. I let my sweatshirt trail behind me, kicking up a stream of dust. Like it could get any nastier. The sun pressed down on my skin. We'd get sunburned if we were out too much longer.
The shadow of whatever this second place was stretched out sideways as we reached it. "Guess it wasn't that far," I said. The letters painted on the side were clear now, as much as was left of them. "Two Moons Café" stretched across the top of the wheel, "Open 24 hours" below it.
Why isn't it closer to the road? "How far did you think it was?" Matt asked me, his gaze lingering on the letters.
"I dunno." I shrugged. "Farther than this. It's hard to tell." I touched the cracked paint of the symbol. Now to find a door. . . .
Noam pressed on the wall. "This is a good system for quick escapes."
"It's probably been in place forever," I told him. So the wheel does mean something. Two Moons Café. The well in that abandoned village, so long forgotten, flashed through my mind. It was weird, with arms and a bunch of buckets...and no way to look at it from above. What if it is something?
"Possibly." Meris stepped up beside Noam. "Now how do we get in here?"
"There's a door over here," Matt called. He peeked around the corner. "Y'all coming?"
Something easy for once. I followed his path around. "Guess I was thinking too much."
Matt shrugged. "Well, Gavin Dupree's game seems to require overthinking."
Game. Got that right. The entrance stood beside a larger garage door with painted over windows. Not subtle, but this garage probably didn't attract much attention anyway, not this far out.
The cool air on the inside of the garage flowed over my skin and cooled the sweat on my face. Junk towered high on the inside, complete with two columns of old pots flanking another door at the other end. Farm equipment was slung in the corner on top of chunks of metal and what might have been car parts. A pair of headlights shone dully under that particular pile.
Noam kicked at a pile of rusted metal. "I admire the extent to which this was disguised."
Unless you're from Trenavell. "Yeah, except for the obvious signs on the side of the building, it's pretty well done." Too obvious.
"Might as well look around for a minute, right?" Matt pulled open the door of a safe that balanced on a creaking shelf.
Meris lifted a pot and shook it. "I don't suppose that would be harmful. Perhaps even fun." She smiled.
Guess we have her approval.
Under a tiny, filthy window stood a desk, cluttered with books, papers, maps, and a haphazard stack of pamphlets. The top one had all but the year "1958" bleached out, probably from any sun that might have snuck through the window. A half-full bottle of rubbing alcohol sat on the edge of the desk. That we can use. "Noam?"
"Yes?"
I held the bottle up. "Wanna hold onto this?"
He came closer. "What is it?"
"Rubbing alcohol." I tossed it to him. "Might come in handy, if it's still good."
"A good find," he said, stuffing it down in his backpack. "See if there's anything else we can use."
I turned back to the desk. Maybe we will find something. I lifted the faded papers to reveal an ancient road map. I unfolded it, revealing the state of California. Is this random, or is all of this stuff relevant? No way could I take it all with me. I wanted to. Even if it had nothing to do with the riddle or Trenavell at all, they were pieces of one life, or several, left behind in this garage, maybe just to lighten a load of a traveler passing through. I slid my finger under the road map and picked it up. A yellowed sheet of paper stuck to it for a moment, then fluttered down onto the desk.
It was an older map, almost identical to the one of the gate system that Meris had shown me. The stains and browned edges showed its age, and the hand drawn details of swirling lines and scrawled words in tiny writing set it apart from the printed scrap that littered this piece of furniture. Nothing on the desk was necessarily scrap paper, considering what this place was, but the lone sheet of parchment was clearly meant to be more. I held it closer to the window, hoping that could provide more light.
Squares littered the paper, like on the other map. But there were differences, all over it. Nothing to indicate anything broken or damaged or functioning. Just the squares that might symbolize gates. There was Kings Road, and there was the capital. In a point on the road where it twisted the most, was one lone square. A gate, on a part of the road where nothing else stood, with others around it in places that perhaps they weren't meant to be.
Is that ours? My gaze fell on the tiny black signature at the bottom.
Gavin Dupree.
The world froze for a moment. My heart began to race as I recognized all the other marks littered on it, many more than on the other. A separate map. Did they really not know about this?
Another, separate network of gates. A map of them drawn up by Gavin Dupree.
What does this mean for using the riddle? How many people know about that gate?
Me, and Matt, and very possibly Brandon. Now Noam and Meris, and the men who'd greeted us the first time Matt and I had crossed over. How many more, if this map was what it appeared to be?
If he made this map of all these gates, then what's the point of the riddle?
Noam's voice shook me out of my thoughts. "We should keep moving."
"Indeed," Meris agreed. "Is there a gate in here too?"
Is this place on the map too? I folded the paper and shoved it into the back pocket of my jeans. I'd have to find a way to compare the two maps, if I could. I wasn't likely to get a moment alone very soon. I heard the sound of a door open, squeaking just a little bit. The well in the village came to mind, with its odd shape and all the buckets attached around it. If I could just see it more closely, compare it to the same shape we kept seeing everywhere, then maybe it might give us something, if only to send us in the right direction again.
"Yes," Noam said. "Looks like it's set in a hill. Comes right out on a road."
I forced myself to step away from the desk. "Then let's get out of here." My voice pitched up high. Calm down. "I...I think there's one more place we could check for the riddle pieces."
"Where?" Meris asked.
This might be the stupidest idea ever. "That first village. The abandoned one."
"Why there?" Meris asked.
"The well." I swallowed. "It looks weird, and I don't know. I didn't think about it until now and seeing that wheel on so many things. Maybe it's nothing, but...I think we should check."
The silence stretched out. Finally, Meris, with one glance at Noam, answered. "I suppose we could try."
"We should be on our way then," Noam said.
They stepped through the door and into the gray sunshine on the other side. A breeze cooled the sweat on my face, but I knew it would get cold fast. I pulled my sweatshirt back on quickly as my friends hurried on.
The map shifted in my back pocket. I'd have to move it soon. Did they see me take it?
Only Matt's iron stare stayed on me. "Coming?"
"Yeah." His footsteps fell in with mine.
He's not asking. Thank goodness.
I'd have to find a way to tell them, or him at the very least.
And if this map was secret, there was no way I could ever let it get found.
No pressure.