Before he returned to the shelter, Jim scouted the area.
Newberry's car sat under an oak several blocks from the warehouse, though, based on the condition of the roads, he had no idea how she'd driven it there.
No one was around, so Jim circled the vehicle.
Blue and white New York plates attached to both front and back of the vehicle.
The amulet in his pocket still ticked.
Jim took it out and circled the car again, amulet extended.
Just as with The Book of Ga-Huel, words appeared, only these were in Latin, and they glowed golden across the back windshield.
Ex animo volo.
They vanished when Jim put the amulet away.
Something else inside the car drew him closer.
He peered through a window.
On the floorboard, wedged between the passenger seat and the back bench seat, was a wooden box the length of Jim's forearm but no wider than his hand. Its lid was on, but the contents—whatever they were—seemed to reach out to him, begging him to look inside the box.
The urge was so strong, he unconsciously tried the door handle.
Locked.
They were all locked.
Seemed there was more to Bianca Newberry than they realized. But she still needed to leave. The safety of everyone in Arcadia Oaks—human and non-human alike—came before Jim's curiosity. If Newberry slipped past Douxie's illusion spell, who knew how many others would?
Jim hurried out of sight behind the remains of a house across the street and typed the Latin phrase in his phone's note app. Some of the stones he'd used in his amulet had Latiny names. He'd have to ask Blinky if he knew what the phrase meant.
An engine revved to life.
Jim peeked around the building.
Newberry's daytime running lights were on. The car's tires bent inward, turning completely to the side so the hubcaps sat on the ground. As the engine's rumble shifted to a quiet whir, the wheels glowed green and lifted the chassis from the ruined grass.
The car eased over the broken ground and into the choppy road.
No one was at the wheel.
When the car came to a piece of road that jutted two feet in the air, it floated a bit higher long enough to clear the rough spot.
What on Earth is that thing?
The Camry picked up speed, heading toward the shelter, hovering over spots any standard car would have bottomed out crossing. When Blinky had driven Jim from his house to the bridge, they'd had to take Miss Janeth's unfortunate station wagon off-road in multiple places, even opting to go through a playground once instead of a large intersection. A vehicle that converted to a hovercar was ingenious.
Jim ran after the car, trying to keep it in sight, but the Camry quickly lost him.
When he reached the shelter, he paused outside to catch his breath.
No white Camry. The only vehicles around were a couple Area 49-B trucks unloading supplies, Miss Janeth's station wagon, and Susanna, Senor Uhl's truck.
Jim slipped through the open emergency exit and passed Mary, now taking dozens of selfies with a few other shelter residents. He found his mom right where he'd left her. "I got it." He unzipped his backpack and showed her The Book of Ga-Huel. He didn't mention finding the wedding rings, or Newberry's car. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
She shook her head. "Bianca's still outside with Claire." She touched the ancient tome. "Walt told me a little about this. Something about magic ink?"
"Back when its author was alive, it could temporarily blind you if you watched a page being made. I guess now that he's dead, it's not quite as devious as it used to be. It's technically dark magic, and it tells the future. Sort of." He opened to the page he'd found earlier. "This is what you saw in the Chronosphere?"
"Yes." Barbara reached for the page, but her fingertips stopped just short. "Can—can I touch it?"
"Sure." Jim handed her the volume.
She studied the pages in awe and lightly traced her own image with one finger before laying a full palm atop Mr. Stickler's. "What does this say?" She pointed to the words beside her picture.
"That's your name."
"And this is his…" She touched the matching label on the other page. "What about this?" She tapped an empty spot spanning the gap between the pages. "It's longer than a name."
"Mom, there's nothing there."
"Yes, there is. It's at least one sentence." She adjusted her glasses and held the book closer. "Looks faded. I can't make out half of it. It's like someone wrote it then tried to erase it."
"Can you write it down?" Jim fished a rumpled piece of notebook paper and old click pen from the bottom of his backpack.
His mom slowly copied the text.
Fifteen minutes later, Jim held his amulet over the words. He whispered as he read, "Sick… heart… cure… real." Jim tried again but failed to get anything more out of the paper. "That makes less sense than what Nari said," he muttered. "And why can you see it, but the amulet can't?"
"Honey, look." His mom pointed toward the door as Claire, glamour mask in hand, walked in, looking relieved.
Claire passed through the shelter largely unnoticed. Even her parents were occupied with Enrique. "I got it." She presented the recorder. "Newberry's on her way out of town as we speak. The second I activated the repellent charm, she hurried off like I'd set her favorite purse on fire."
Jim took the recorder and scrolled through the files until he came to the earliest one. He cranked the volume down and pressed play.