“Elli,” said Peterwinkle, as if the statement to be made was simply indisputable, “you are the one chosen to attempt this—yes, this incomprehensible—endeavor, and I am the one chosen to tell you so.”
“But, Peterwinkle, even if any of this—even if all of this—is true, the part that is otherwise false is that this Elli Adams is but a girl of fourteen, and I have no special or great powers whatsoever. So, there is a mistake—and probably someone else who is to come after me—and I am deeply sorry to tell you that, for I see that you have already concluded that I am this one you’ve been waiting for.”
“No, there is no mistake, Elli. You alone are the one to whom this book is dedicated; and the mere fact that you profess to no powers only confirms the veracity of your place in this business. Elli, it is not that you have great powers, but that you will have great powers in the undertaking of this mission. And you are not to do this alone. Indeed, you cannot do this alone. You will have companions to assist you, both from your world and from Bairnmoor, and without whom you would not be able to accomplish what is set before you—if it can be accomplished at all,” Peterwinkle added quickly, as if forgetting an obligatory phrase.
“But, who are these companions you speak about, Mr. Peterwinkle, and why do you continue to say that the mission may not succeed?” Elli asked, a bit perturbed.
“How can anyone assure the accomplishment of anything in the future, Elli? All that one can control is what one does, not the results. But, without your efforts, there is no hope—for any of us.”
“But, I must know, Mr. Peterwinkle: who are these companions of which you speak? Are they great adults, and is it they who will provide the great powers?” Elli asked, insistently, as if to create the answer to her question.
“Oh, Bumblesticks, no, Elli! You will have no adults with you. Only children. For only children will be able to enter the kingdom now, and only children will be able to save it.”
“Then, who are these children you speak of?” Elli asked, now pressingly. “I have very few friends, Peterwinkle, and I can think of none who would want—or be able—to accompany me, even if they believed the story was true.”
“Elli,” Peterwinkle giggled kindly, and then said, as if ignoring her doubts, “it will be three other children whom you most would trust to be without guile, to be loyal to your mission, and to protect your heart. It would be those who would say nothing false, and who would say nothing true they thought would injure you, and who would do all they could against others, regardless of the circumstances, who would seek to hurt you in any way. And,” Peterwinkle added, with a sense of prescient knowing, “I suspect that you know already about whom I am speaking. Am I correct?”
Reticent to speak, for any of a number of reasons pressing upon her mind and emotions, Elli simply nodded and said quietly, “Yes, I believe I do.” Peterwinkle sat silently, fingers folded together on his lap, waiting to hear more.
“There is Beatríz, also my age, who was born in Chile and,” she added, looking firmly into Peterwinkle’s eyes, “who has been blind since birth. And there is Jamie, who is a year younger than I and who comes from a really bad home and spends most of his time alone, with no self-confidence whatsoever—and other kids know it, so they tease him mercilessly, calling him weak and scared and good for nothing.” Elli paused, manifesting an appearance of general incredulity. “And, and . . . then there is Alex. Alex has Down syndrome, and is three years older than I. He’s in the same grade, but he has the mental capacity of someone younger than I. I eat and spend recess at school with these three, but, other than a couple of us occasionally meeting at the library, none of us spends time with any of the others outside of school; it’s safer that way. Guys who pick on us would be more inclined to get rough with several of us than with just one, if you know what I mean.” Peterwinkle nodded affirmatively.
“All of us like each other, and I can’t imagine that any one of us would say anything unkind about the others. I’m certain of that, since each of us has been hurt lots of times by others, and we all know how awful it feels.” Elli paused, and then said, conclusively, “I know of no others, among children or adults, to whom I’d trust my heart.”
Peterwinkle nodded his head approvingly. “I think you should be going—and then returning as quickly as you are able with your friends, for time is of the essence. You may, of course, decline to return, Elli, and you will not see or hear from me again. And no one but you and I and your friends will know of this conversation, and no one in either world will think more or less of you. Life will return for you as it has been, but with one exception. In this moment you have the opportunity that few in any world have, which is to find out who you really are. And the same may be said, I suspect, concerning your friends.”
Elli shivered at Peterwinkle’s final words and said nothing further. Exhausted in mind and heart, she mulled over all that Peterwinkle had said. She left the room, glanced furtively toward the wide staircase descending into the darkness below, and then carefully made her way back up the stairs and out the door, keeping the key with her.
~two~
When Elli arrived home, she was surprised that so little time had passed since she had left for the library. She told her mother that the book was not available and that she was hoping to have several friends over for the evening, and would it be okay with her. She explained they would spend the night in her room and then go together to the library late on Sunday morning. Although surprised by the uncharacteristic request, Elli’s mother said it was okay as long as it was okay with her friends’ parents.
Elli called each of the three friends about whom she had conversed with Peterwinkle, saying it was imperative they get together, and that she would tell them about an adventure unlike any other, guaranteed.
When all four had gathered on Elli’s big bed, and the door had been shut, Elli proceeded to tell them everything that had happened to her that day at the library. There was Beatríz, a tall and lithe girl with black hair that hung in joyful waves all the way to her waist. Alex was short, especially for his age, but he was built like a middle linebacker, naturally and uncommonly strong, and sported the same buzz cut he had had since he was a small child. Jamie, as uncommonly short for his age as Alex was strong for his age, had a slight, but wiry, build, harvest blonde hair that flopped over his ears and forehead, and sad eyes—as if they were drawn that way on his face.
With their eyes and ears glued to Elli, not one of the three friends doubted in the least that something very strange had happened to her at the library, and none doubted that Elli was telling the absolute truth—or at least what she thought was the truth, which itself frightened Jamie. But no one said anything, except a few scattered and whispered “wows.” After about a minute of complete silence, Beatríz finally said, “Well, I think the least we can do is go back to the library and see what happened to you, Elli. And, then . . . if it’s all as you have described things, Elli, we can—all of us—decide, okay?” All nodded in agreement.
After a restless night of intermittent conversation and a bit of sleep, the four left the house at ten thirty, to be certain to be at the library when the doors opened at eleven.
Armed with the key and her pattern of stealth past the circulation desk and through and around the aisles of bookcases, Elli and her friends stood in complete darkness just inside the door to the basement. Without hesitation, Elli led them in single file with feeling hands and feet down the stairs on which Elli had descended the day before. Without talking, and with only the sound of whispering shoes on the smooth stone stairs, the four companions proceeded, as if out of reverence for the space or the moment. Elli, who was leading the group, watched in the blackness for any hint of light from the open doorway casting itself on the steps below. Elli worried that perhaps they had already traveled too far down the stairs; she also sensed that someone—or something—else was close by when she felt a slight and chilly breeze pass in front of her.
But