Sabotaged

38

The fresh grave, Jonah thought. Is this tracer here because Second murdered Virginia Dare?

Jonah realized he was so stunned, he wasn’t even thinking about tracer rules right. Nobody could have murdered Virginia Dare-at least, not yet. Because Andrea was Virginia Dare. And Andrea was still alive, back at the canoe, right now calling out, “Jonah?”

Jonah didn’t answer.

This tracer is here because of Gary and Hodge stealing Andrea-Virginia Dare-from history, Jonah was reminding himself. And then because Second made sure that Andrea didn’t come back to the right time or place…

The tracer girl stood on her tiptoes, peering through the branches, straight out toward the canoe.

She sees them, Jonah thought. She sees Walks with Pride and One Who Survives Much. Can she see her grandfather, too?

The tracer girl’s mouth made a little O of surprise, and then she looked down-evidently she’d snapped a twig with her bare toes or made some other little noise with her movement.

Back at the canoe, Antonio cried out in his tracer’s voice, “There it is again! The sound of an unsettled spirit! Let’s go!”

That’s why the tracer boys heard sounds that Antonio and Brendan didn’t, Jonah thought. Because it was this tracer walking around, moving through the woods.

“Jonah!” Katherine called from behind him. “I’m serious! The tracers aren’t going to wait for you! Get Dare and come on!”

But Jonah wanted to wait. He wanted to wait for Andrea’s tracer to step forward, out of the woods. Then Brendan’s tracer would see her, and Antonio’s tracer would see her, and maybe even John White’s tracer would be awake by now to see her too. And whatever was supposed to happen next-whatever had happened in original time-would happen.

Andrea’s tracer didn’t step forward. She shrank back.

“It’s okay,” Jonah whispered. “We’re friendly.”

But of course the tracer couldn’t hear him. She slid farther back into the woods, deeper into the shadows.

She wasn’t planning to go out and meet the other tracers-Brendan’s and Antonio’s and her grandfather’s. She was afraid of them. She was hiding.

“Jonah, what are you doing?” Katherine called again. “If you don’t come now, you’re going to have to swim!”

What was Jonah supposed to do? They’d come to the past to reunite Andrea with her tracer. It had been such a clear goal. But that was before they knew about Second, before Andrea changed the Elucidator code, before John White showed up, before Brendan and Antonio appeared out of nowhere-and before they’d discovered that Croatoan was an island of death. What difference did all those changes make? Could they change the need for Andrea to join with her tracer? What if this was the wrong time and the wrong place for it?

How could Jonah know?

“Just give me a minute!” Jonah yelled back to Katherine, even though he knew it wasn’t just her choice whether to go or stay.

And how much choice do I have? Jonah thought. How much choice should I have when it’s Andrea’s life, not mine?

Jonah glanced back toward the canoe. Katherine had exaggerated a little-they weren’t casting off quite yet. Brendan was still untying the canoe. There was still time. A minute or two.

Jonah took a deep breath.

“Andrea!” he called unsteadily. “Come quick! I found your tracer!”

“What?” Katherine yelled. “Now? Are you kidding?”

Brendan stopped in the middle of flipping the rope back into the canoe, though his tracer continued without him. Antonio almost dropped his paddle. And Andrea jumped out of the canoe.

“I knew we’d find her!” Andrea exulted. “I knew John White would find his granddaughter!”

Andrea raced toward Jonah and Dare and the tracer. She stopped only when she reached Jonah’s side, directly facing her double. She gasped.

“You don’t have a whole lot of time to stand there marveling at how weird all this is,” Jonah muttered.

“How do I…?” Andrea began. “Do I jump? Hold my breath? Close my eyes? Back in?”

Jonah pushed her. It wasn’t his smoothest move, but he was acutely aware of the time ticking away.

Andrea jolted forward, her mouth still agog. She spun around, her features lining up with the tracer girl’s features; her limbs lining up with the tracer girl’s limbs: one arm bent around a tree trunk, one foot half off the ground, as if she was poised to run.

Andrea’s face came back out of her tracer’s face.

“She doesn’t live on this island!” Andrea gasped. “She came from far, away from the mainland-she came back to bury the skeletons she knew were here, to honor the Croatoans… She didn’t think anyone else would come to the island!”

“Okay,” Jonah said impatiently. “And…”

Andrea’s face toggled back into her tracer and out again. This time her entire expression had changed, so it was easy to tell her and the tracer apart. The tracer looked slightly apprehensive.

Andrea looked furious.

“No!” she screamed. “It’s not fair! It can’t happen like that!”

“Like what?” Jonah asked.

“She’s just going to hide until the strangers leave,” Andrea said. “She doesn’t even know her grandfather’s with them! To be this close and not meet-no! I won’t let it happen that way!”

“Andrea,” Jonah said, and her name came out sounding like an apology. “It’s not your choice. You can’t control your tracer. You only get to choose for yourself.”

Jonah tried to decide how to spell out all the potential choices. Ideally, they’d all get to vote. Everyone could stay with their respective tracers, no matter what. Or everyone could stay on Croatoan, leaving the tracers of Brendan, Antonio, and John White to go on only as ghosts. Or all the kids could cast off in the canoe together, leaving Andrea’s longed-for tracer behind. Only Jonah and Katherine didn’t have a tracer here to choose or not choose, to weigh in the balance between friends and fate.

There wasn’t time to say any of that. Andrea was screaming again.

“No! My tracer’s never going to meet her grandfather! And my grandfather will never see me as myself! No! It can’t be! You’re-coming-with-me!”

Jonah could tell that Andrea wasn’t talking to him.

Andrea had grabbed her tracer’s hands, and was trying to tug her tracer away from behind the tree. It was a weird effect, like watching someone wrestle with her own shadow-from inside the shadow.

Dare whined and backed away, more freaked out than ever. Jonah tightened his grip on the dog’s collar.

“Jonah! Andrea! Come on!” Brendan called from behind them. “My tracer’s done! I’m getting into the canoe! We’re leaving!”

“No-you’re-not!” Andrea yelled.

The tracer-joined-with-Andrea took a step forward.

Optical illusion, Jonah thought. Trick of the eye.

Another step.

Andrea grinned.

Except, it wasn’t just Andrea grinning. It was the tracer, too, the smile lines around her eyes radiating back toward her braids.

“Wait!” Andrea/Virginia called, and even though Jonah understood perfectly, he knew she wasn’t speaking English. She was speaking another Algonquian dialect similar to the one Brendan’s and Antonio’s tracers used.

Andrea didn’t know any Algonquian dialects. Did she?

“Do not depart in such haste,” Andrea/Virginia continued, walking toward Brendan, out into the sunlight. “Do you have a ghost-man in your canoe? I am a ghost-girl, and he might be my kin.”

Brendan turned around.

No-it was Brendan-joined-with-his-tracer who turned around. The tracer turned too.

Can’t be, Jonah thought. I know that didn’t happen. Andrea’s tracer wouldn’t have called out. Brendan’s tracer wouldn’t have looked back.

“Are you a lost spirit of the dead?” Brendan’s tracer asked. His knees knocked together slightly, and Jonah decided the tracer was brave not to run if he was that afraid.

“No,” Andrea/Virginia said. “I am alive. But my grandfather is lost.”

Brendan’s tracer hesitated. Then he swept his hand toward the canoe.

“Come and find him,” he said.