a8eb54fe2a7e7ca192cef2761fb9d6c0

He kissed the top of her head as they stepped over the threshold.“What’s that?”

“What were you doing with a basilisk in the bedroom?”

The door closed on his answer.

From King Street came the faint sound of a minivan being pulled over by the police.

And for the first time in days, a cool breeze blew in off the lake.

UNDER SUMMONS

Eyes squinted against the early morning sun, Diana Hansen walked down the lane toward the Waupoos Marina listening to the string of complaints coming from the cat in her backpack.

“The boat is leaving at seven thirty,” she said when he finally paused for breath. “If we’d gotten up any later, we’d have missed it.”

The head and front paws of a marmalade tabby emerged through the open zipper and peered over Diana’s shoulder toward the marina. “I thought need provided for Keepers during a Summoning?”

“Need has provided, Sam. There’s a boat leaving for Main Duck Island this morning.”

He snorted. “Why can’t need provide a boat at a reasonable hour?”

“It doesn’t work that way. Besides, cats do that hunt at dusk and dawn thing– you should be happy to be up.”

“First of all, I’m not hunting. And second,” he added ducking down into the backpack as a car passed them, “I’d rather have sausages for breakfast than a damp mouse.”

“Who wouldn’t.”

Another car passed, bouncing from pot hole to pot hole.

“You’d better stay down,” Diana told him, hooking her thumbs under the padded shoulder straps. “It’s starting to get busy.”

“Oh yeah,” the cat muttered as a pickup truck followed the two cars. “It’s a real rush hour. I’ll be napping, if you need me.”

The Ministry of Natural Resources trawler was tied up at the nearer of the big piers out behind the marina. Pausing at the south-west corner of the big grey building, Diana scoped out the crowd. Most of the twenty-four other travellers were older couples, sensibly dressed in long pants, wearing both hiking boots and hats. Half a dozen women were obviously together, and, just as obviously, part of a club– unless they’d all accidentally worn the same lime-green t-shirt. There was a sprinkling of younger adults, and three teenagers. Two girls, probably sisters, and a boy. They were the only people wearing shorts. The boy caught her gaze and smirked. He was a good-looking kid – and he knew it.

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” A fortyish man wearing Ministry khaki, climbed up on a wooden crate and waved a clipboard. “Some of you already know me, but for the rest, I’m Gary Straum, and I’ll be your guide this trip. The young man driving the boat is Jamie Wierster. He knows almost as much as I do about the island, so if I’m not available, he’ll do his best to tell you anything you need to know.”

A ruddy-cheeked, young giant leaned out of the tiny cabin and waved.

“I just want to remind you of a few things before we get started,” Gary continued as the two girls giggled. “Main Duck Island is part of the St. Lawrence Islands National Parks system and is a nature sanctuary. You may not take samples of the plant life away with you– this means no picking, no digging, no collecting seeds. The wildlife is to be left strictly alone. If there’s a disagreement of any kind between you and any creature living on that island, I will rule in favour of the creature. Anything you carry in must be carried out. If you can’t live with that, I suggest you leave now.” Gary smiled as an older man grabbed the back of the teenage boy’s skater shirt and hauled him back by his side. “All right, then. When I read your name, come and pick up your life jacket…” He gestured at the open steel locker beside him. “…put it on, and board. Thesooner we get going, the more time we’ll have to spend on the island.”

Diana’s name was the last on the list. She hadn’t put it there, and she felt a little sorry for the actual twenty-fifth person, who’d been bumped to make room for her, but there was a hole in the fabric of reality out on Main Duck Island and it was her job as a Keeper to close it.

Feeling awkward and faintly ridiculous in the life jacket, Diana sat down on a wooden bench and set her backpack carefully at her feet.

“I saw the cat. When we passed you in the lane.”

She answered the teenage boy’s smile with one of her own as he dropped onto the bench beside her. According to the boarding list, his name was Ryan. Ryan, like everyone else on the boat, was a Bystander, and given the relative numbers, Keepers were used to working around them. “Of course you did, Ryan.Please forget about it.”

It really was a magic word.

He frowned. Looked around like he was wondering why he’d sat beside her, and after mumbling something inarticulate, moved across the boat to sit back down in his original seat. The girls, Mackenzie and Erin, sitting on the bench in front of him, giggled.

“I get the impression you’re not the giggling type.”

It was one of the older women, her husband busy taking pictures of Gary casting off and jumping aboard.

“Not really, no.”