Lester wound his way through the maze of metal shelves piled high with old books and strange-looking pipe organ parts.  In the distance, he could hear the faint timbre of a conversation but none of the actual words.  The voices didn’t seem to be arguing, but at the sound of laughter, he quickened his pace.  Fearing Amanda was making fun of Mae again, he sped along the familiar path, his sneakers sliding on the smooth cement floor as he went.

  However, upon reaching the warm circle of light encompassing the oasis of his old work area, Lester’s concern turned to puzzlement as he suddenly stopped at the sight of both girls in hysterics.    

  Since they’d secretly commandeered the library’s basement for their headquarters, a few changes had been made.  The old blue rug was now centered in the space, allowing the sides of the antique table to be extended, transforming it from a small square into a large circle.  The intricate carvings around its edge felt more suited to a meeting of the knights of the round table than a catch-all for the dozens of books and maps Mae had been collecting.  But they made do.

  An additional floor lamp had been brought from a far corner, along with a sizable rolling chalkboard, which now stood to one side.  Its slate black surface was covered in names and dates, many of them connected in a web of carefully drawn chalk lines.

  Amanda and Mae were sitting at the table across from each other, a colorful array of chip bags and soda cans spread out in front of them.  Spotting Lester, they attempted to compose themselves without much success. 

  “Hey, Lester,” said Amanda, stifling a laugh.  “How’s it going?”

  “Okay,” Lester said warily.  “What’s so funny?” 

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” replied Amanda.  “Right, Mae?”

  Mae tried to pull herself together long enough to answer, but after a glance in Lester’s direction, she looked back at Amanda, and suddenly both girls were off again.

  “Do I have something on my face?” Lester asked as they howled with laughter.  He rubbed a hand across his chin, thinking about the spicy, guacamole-filled burrito he’d had for dinner.

  “No,” Mae said, gasping for air.  “It’s just girl stuff.”

  Lester wasn’t sure what girl stuff meant and didn’t entirely believe he wasn’t somehow the butt of their joke.  But he was happy to see them finally getting along.

  “Come sit down,” Amanda said, dabbing the corners of her eyes with her sleeve.  “Mae’s got some interesting things to share.”

  Lester took a seat in front of a tall stack of books.  Mae’s talent in doggedly researching the unknown had generated quite an impressive pile. 

  “Alright,” Mae said, taking a deep breath to settle herself.  “Let’s start with the journal you found in your house.”  She pulled it out and set it between them.

  Seeing the familiar worn brown leather, Lester felt a resurgence of disappointment, and he eyed it with more than a little disdain.   

  “This might be —” Mae began, tapping its cover with her finger.

  “Useless?” interrupted Lester.  “Pointless?  An utter waste of time?”  He slumped back into his chair.  “I’m sorry, you guys.  We’ve barely started, and I nearly got us caught for nothing.”

  “As I was saying,” Mae continued, ignoring Lester’s comments.  “This might be — the first actual clue we’ve discovered.”

  Lester sat up.  “Really?” 

  “Yes, really,” said Mae.  “You shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss everything that isn’t immediately flashy or exciting.  Everyone always wants to find a map with a big red X or a lost manuscript that holds the key to life’s mysteries, but history doesn’t work that way.  If you want to know the truth about an event, what really happened before it was cleaned up for your textbooks, you have to look to ordinary documents.  Property deeds and marriage licenses often say more than originally intended.  No one thinks to work in a bit of revisionist history into their grocery list.  Without realizing it, people leave a trail of remarkably intimate and important moments from their lives in quite mundane places.  Like this.”

  She flipped the journal over so they could see the back.

  “RIN?  What does that mean?” Amanda asked, running her fingers over the letters stamped into the leather. 

  “In Scottish Gaelic, rin means run,” said Mae.  “In Korean, it’s a female unicorn.  There’s even a Japanese definition that translates to severe or cold.”

  “So, which is it?” Lester asked.

  “Neither.  If you’d kept reading, you’d have discovered that it’s not a word at all.  It’s the initials of the journal’s author, Randal Ingram North.”

  “North?” said Lester.

  “Doctor North, to be precise.  He was your great, great grandfather.  In fact, he built the house you live in.  Your parent’s never mentioned him?”

  “No,” Lester said.  “The house has been in our family for generations, Amanda’s too, but it’s not like anyone talks about it.”

  “Randal North was Giles Hollow’s first doctor,” Mae said.  “He even helped settle the town, treating patients and performing surgeries right in his own home.  What you found is his medical journal.  It’s where he kept notes on his treatments for those original residents.  He chronicled everything from births and deaths to injuries and illness.  That alone makes this a remarkable historical document.”

  “That is interesting,” Lester said.  He tried not to imagine the kinds of primitive medicine that might have been practiced in the space below his bedroom.  Certain he’d seen dark stains on some of the old floorboards.  “But how is it a clue?”

  “It’s in his later entries towards the back where it gets a bit more curious,” said Mae.  “Dr. North was retired by then, and with no more patients to care for, his medical notes give way to some sort of parable.  It’s a grim fairytale that tells the story of a great war, fought between what he refers to as The Light and The Dark.  Most of it reads like a classic Greek myth, full of heroic deeds and epic battles.  But then the location abruptly shifts to what resembles early North America.”

  “You mean, like, pilgrims?” asked Lester.

  “No.  That’s the odd part.  The way it’s told, the descriptions of the land and how the people lived, it’s as if it all happened before Europeans arrived.”

  “That’s not so unusual,” said Amanda.  “He was probably rehashing old-world myths brought over by the first wave of colonists.  When he ran out of that material, he turned to what was close at hand.  Most Native American folklore is nature-based, utilizing elemental symbolism like earth, fire, water, and sky.”

  Lester and Mae stared at her.

  “What?” Amanda asked.  “Like you two are the only ones who read.”

  “Amanda could be right,” Mae said.  “The whole thing is a bit hard to follow.  While the war is the main focus of the story, there’s no explanation as to how it started.  The fighting stretches over centuries.  The Light manages to get the upper hand several times, but then The Dark uses its mythical powers to slip away.  If it’s a parable, what’s the point?”

  “Not to be rude,” Amanda said, “but why do we care about some bizarre ramblings from an old journal anyway?  What does any of this have to do with us or our — predicament?”

  “I’m getting to that.”  Mae flipped to a spot in the journal marked with a paperclip.  Across two opposing pages was a tight list, organized into several straight columns.  “Take a look at these names,” she said. 

  Lester scanned the neat cursive handwriting.  There had to be nearly a hundred people, and some of them were pretty famous.  Benjamin Franklin, Paul Revere, and someone named George Corwin were each marked with a capital L.  At the same time, Captain John Smith, Edward Teach, and Abigail Adams had D’s next to their names.

  A thought occurred to Lester.  “Isn’t Edward Teach — ”

  “Blackbeard, the infamous pirate,” Mae said, nodding.

  “I guess it’s not that hard to believe he’d be part of some dark cabal,” Amanda said.  “But Abigail Adams?”

  “The names are interesting, but this next bit is why I called you both.”  Mae carefully turned the page.  “Most of it is written in a language I don’t recognize, but Dr. North had begun working on a translation.  Do you want to read it, Lester?”

  Upon seeing the odd hieroglyphic writing, Lester was reminded of the incident with his math exam.  He followed the strange symbols down to the last few lines.  Scribbled in the spaces between the indecipherable text was the now-familiar tight scrawl of a dead relative he’d never heard of until today.

  “Each shall be drawn into the fight,” he read, “with gifts bestowed by dark birthright.  To uncover that which has been foreseen, at the mortal age of — thirteen.”

  A chill went through Lester as he finished reading, and he looked up from the journal to see Amanda staring, her eyes wide.

  “Drawn into the fight,” Mae said.  “At the age of thirteen.”  She looked at them excitedly, waiting for a reaction.  “Don’t you get it?” 

  “Yeah, Mae,” Amanda said quietly.  “We get it,”

  Lester didn’t reply.  Since completing the translated passage, he’d been busy mulling over Ben's advice about trusting his friends.  Silently staring at the pages of the journal, he hoped the old postmaster was right.

  “Strange stuff has been happening to me,” Lester blurted out.

  Amanda and Mae turned to look at him.

  “Yeah, we know, Lester,” Amanda said.  “That’s kind of why we’re here.”

  “No.  This is different.”

  Throwing caution to the wind, Lester told them all of the odd things he’d been experiencing over the past few weeks.  It was slow going at first, as he explained about the math test and the lights and humming from the Drawing-In ceremony.  However, by the time he got to the part about his voice dropping after being bitten by Mac, the words flowed out of him with increasing speed.  It was as though a dam had burst somewhere inside.  He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to tell someone.  Finally, he recounted the bizarre behavior of the water in his bathroom.  When he finished, he fell back against his chair and rubbed his face with his hands. 

  “Young boy’s voices do change, Lester,” Amanda said gently. 

  “Yeah, I guess,” Lester replied.  Did she think it was all in his head or that he was making it up?  “But how do you account for everything else?”

  Amanda sighed.  “I can’t.  I’m sorry.  It’s not that I don’t believe you.  I do.  It’s just — things were so normal a few weeks ago.  Since that night in Elmwood City, I keep expecting to wake up.  I know it sounds selfish, but sometimes I wish we could forget all of this and return to the way it was.”

  Lester knew the feeling.  Like Ben’s dream about the lake, they’d found themselves inexplicably over their heads and ill-prepared.  And somewhere beneath them, something was moving, something bigger than anything should be.  As it glided along, unaware of their presence, it roiled the water, upending their world as it went, catching them in the whirlpool of its wake.  They didn’t need to get a good look at it to understand the undeniable truth.  This darkness they could sense but not see, this thing with no name, could not be turned back.  

  “Hey!” Lester shouted, suddenly finding himself inexplicably cold and wet.  “What the heck, Mae?”

  Mae sat on the other side of the table, an empty water bottle in her outstretched hand.  “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.  “I was testing a theory.”

  Lester stared at her as water dripped from his face onto the front of his soaking wet t-shirt.  “It’s not funny, Amanda,” he said, wiping droplets from his cheeks.

  “Sorry.  I know,” Amanda said, not sounding sorry as she failed to suppress a giggle.

  Lester tried to maintain his irritation, but it wasn’t long before all three of them were nearly falling out of their chairs with laughter.  The dark pall that had hung so heavy in the basement only moments before burst, and the fear, tension, and anxiety they’d been feeling evaporated.

  It had been a long time since Lester had laughed this hard, and he was wiping his eyes when he saw Mae pick up a can of soda and begin to shake it.  Amanda noticed too and started vigorously nodding her head in encouragement.

  “No!  Mae, don’t!” Lester said, but it was too late.

  Mae snapped the ring on the can, and the pressurized liquid inside shot out.

  Instinctively, Lester threw up a hand to shield himself.  As his fingers spread wide, there was a shimmer in the air, and the stream of soda made an abrupt turn.  Then, with a flash of speed, it raced back in the direction it had come.

  Mae cried out, and the empty soda can clattered to the floor.  She brought both hands up to her face and stumbled backward.

  Lester and Amanda leaped from their chairs and rushed to her side.

  “Are you alright?” Amanda asked.  

  “I am so sorry, Mae,” Lester said.  “I didn’t mean to.  It just happened.”  He stared down at his hands, but they looked like they always did. 

  “Come on, Mae,” said Amanda.  “Let me see.”  She gently removed Mae’s hands from her face, revealing a huge grin.

  “That was so cool!” Mae shrieked.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Lester said, dropping into a nearby chair, relief washing over him.  “I think I’m going to pass out.” 

  “Did you see that?” Mae asked.  “It was incredible!”  She was practically skipping with excitement.  “Actual psychokinesis!” 

  “What?” asked Amanda.

  “Psychokinesis,” repeated Mae.  “It’s the ability to move things with your mind.”  She turned to Lester, whose face was ashen.  “Were you in a heightened state of stress or excitement when this happened before?”

  “Why would that matter?” Amanda asked.

  “Strong emotions can distract or even suppress the conscious mind.  Take the flight-or-fight response humans exhibit when confronted with danger.  The body redistributes blood to the brain, legs, arms, and muscles to ready ourselves.  Our pupils even dilate to bring more light into our eyes for better vision.  All without conscious thought.”

  “Uh, Mae,” Amanda interrupted.  “You might want to move your feet before Lester unconsciously vomits all over your shoes.”

  Feeling weak and nauseous, Lester had bent down and put his head between his knees.

  “You okay, Lester?” Amanda asked.

  “Yeah, just give me a minute.”  Lester took a few long slow breaths and carefully sat up.  The room wobbled but then righted itself.  “That’s a little better.”

  “I’d offer you a glass of water,” said Amanda, “but I think we’re fresh out.”

  Lester laughed but quickly stopped, as it made the pounding in his head worse.

  “Running away from danger is one thing,” Amanda said to Mae.  “But how is that connected to what just happened?”

  “I don’t know.  I suppose if we believe Doctor North’s story, and based on what you saw your fathers do in the alley, it certainly seems probable, you both may be descended from members of The Dark.  As such, you could have inherited some sort of heightened awareness or abilities.”

  “But if that’s true,” said Amanda, “why would it happen to Lester and not me?  I’m much closer to thirteen than he is.”

  “Maybe it is happening to you, and you just haven’t noticed?” Mae said.

  “I think I’d notice if I came out dry every time I tried to take a shower.”

  “I don’t know if that’s how it works,” said Mae.  “According to Solomon’s books, each demon possesses very specific powers.  So if you do develop abilities, they could be quite different from Lester’s.  There’s no telling what form they might take.”

  “I’d be happy to throw something at you if you want to give it a go,” Lester said.  The color had returned to his face, and the sick feeling in his stomach was now a gnawing hunger.  He grabbed a bag of Flaming Hot Cheese Puffs from the pile of snacks on the table and began rapidly shoveling them into his mouth.

  “Do it, and I’ll slap you,” warned Amanda.

  “Maybe there’s more on this in your great grandfather’s journal,” Mae said, picking it up and flipping through the pages.  As she did, a square piece of paper fell out onto the table.  

  “Is that the one from the alley?” Lester asked.

  “Oh!  I almost forgot!” Mae said, grabbing it.  She began rummaging around in her bag.  “Lester, when you found this paper, you said it was blank, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Mae.

  “It wasn’t exactly my most pressing concern at the time, but yeah, I’m pretty sure,” said Lester.

  “Well, take a look at this.”

  Mae held a silver cigarette lighter under the paper and lit the flame.  At first, there was only a faint glow, but as Lester and Amanda watched, brown, burnt lines began to appear.  As they grew, the markings crisscrossed each other, forming a crude design.  It looked like an hourglass without a top.

  “What is that supposed to be?” Amanda asked.

  “I don’t know,” replied Mae, putting out the lighter.  As soon as she did, the image began to fade.  By the time she set the paper down on the table, it was gone.  “I’ve been looking through guides on symbols and emblems, but I haven’t found anything that matches yet.  I may need to take a trip to the library in Elmwood.  Then again, it could be nothing.”

  “No, it’s something,” Lester said.

  “You know what it means?” asked Mae.

  “No idea.  But I’ve seen it before.”

  Lester tried to remember.  It wasn’t in his house or at school.  Was it outside somewhere?  He could almost see it lurking at the edge of his thoughts.  Maybe Ben would know.  Then it hit him.

  “Of course!” he said, jumping up and grabbing his backpack from the floor.

  “Wait.  Lester, where are you going?” Mae asked.

  “I need to check on something.  Meet me at my place first thing tomorrow morning and bring your bikes.”

  Before either Mae or Amanda could object, Lester had sprinted off into the dark maze of shelves.

  “But, Lester!” Amanda shouted after him.  “Tomorrow’s Saturday.  I don’t get up early on Saturdays!”

  There was no reply, just the distant clang of the basement door.