Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27 "Dan…?" Amy said, dragging her brother across the scrubby pathway, little more than a tangle of vines and roots. "Dan, stay awake!" He was moaning. Deteriorating fast. Amy barely noticed the entrance. Grace's "African home" was tiny, little more than a mound of rock and soil, a cave fitted with a custom- carved wooden door. "We will not enter her working headquarters," Professor Bardsley said. "There is a small house around back, where she lived when she was here. I— I have a pass— a pass card…." Professor Bardsley was shaking. He'd landed the plane safely but taken a corner too sharp on the taxiing, clipping a wing. He was coming apart, Amy could tell.

Keep it together, she thought. Keep my brother alive! Dan sagged between Nellie and Amy, no longer able to walk. "You're g-g-going to be f-f-fine," Amy said. Alone. The word muscled its way into Amy's brain. For her whole life, she'd felt like a part, a half. It was never Amy. It was Dan and Amy. Like one word. DanandAmy. AmyandDan. "Here we are!" she said, stopping before a small, shuttered shingle house as the professor fumbled with the lock. Dan was shivering again. His arms were wrapped in white tourniquets soaked in umhlaba, but his face was turning from red to yellow. Nellie had her arms around him. "He's going into toxic shock," she said. "Hurry!" With a loud thwock, Professor Bardsley opened the front door. "Sit him down!" he said. "I will go to the medicine cabinet."

Nellie and Amy wriggled Dan through the door. Amy couldn't hold back a shiver of recognition. In a split-second view, she took in details that were hardwired into her memory— lace doilies on small dark-wood tea tables, demitasse cups placed as if Grace were about to emerge from the kitchen with tea, a portrait of Grace that Amy had drawn in third grade. She and Nellie sat Dan down on a damask sofa. "OWWW… OW OW OW OW!" he cried. Professor Bardsley ran in, a hypodermic needle in one hand. "You have to inject him?" Amy cried out. "It is the only way to get it into his bloodstream fast," Professor Bardsley said. Amy looked away, holding tight to Dan's hand. She felt him stiffen briefly, a tiny whine emitting from his mouth that was more breath than sound. Finally, she felt him go slack. Amy felt her heart turning inside out. "What's happening? Is he…?" Professor Bardsley wiped his brow. The knots in his forehead were deep. "We can only pray now."

"Thank you," Nellie said, "for everything." Professor Bardsley smiled wanly. "Thank you. If I'd had to change the course of the plane myself…" Dan's head lolled to one side. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out. Professor Bardsley felt Dan's forehead. "I must return to the airfield for a moment. The way I landed The Flying Lemur may be a hazard to other craft. I will not be long. As soon as he is feeling well, we must leave. We cannot stay here." Professor Bardsley was gone longer than Amy expected. Nellie continued to put fresh dressings of umhlaba on Dan's arm, but he wouldn't be back to normal for some time. The skin was badly burned. "A-Amy?" Dan rasped, wincing. Amy ran to his side. "Dan! You're speaking!" "Duh," Dan said. "That Churchill note— the one Mrs. Thembeka gave us? Where is it?"

"Your back pocket, I think," Amy said. "Want me to get it for you?" Nellie volunteered. Dan groaned. "Could you… get me more dressing? Please?" As Nellie disappeared into the bathroom, Amy continued exploring the room. She fought back tears. She had almost gotten Dan killed. Her anger had angered Isabel. Made Ian shove Dan toward the propeller. Then, in The Flying Lemur, she'd made Dan so frustrated he'd forgotten to be cautious about the poison…. "Dan?" she said. "I'm sorry I've been a hothead." Dan smiled weakly. "You're saving my life," he said. "So I don't care. Hey, check out the piano." Tucked in the corner, barely fitting, was a spinet piano with a stack of sheet music on it. Amy stepped over to the piano and hit a few chords, but it was sadly out of tune. She remembered the hours Grace would spend in her mansion in Massachusetts, on a much nicer piano, teaching Dan and Amy all the words to her favorite Broadway showtunes. "Now, tell me the iPod compares to this!" Grace loved to say.

Nearby sat a desk whose ornately carved designs contrasted with the simple lines of the piano. Amy opened a drawer and jumped as a hairy spider crawled out. She looked over her shoulder, checking Dan. He was scribbling weakly on a pad of paper. As Amy went to close the drawer, she noticed a small notebook tucked deeply inside. She pulled it out, rubbing her hands over the soft leather cover. It was full of Grace's perfect, small handwriting, as if Amy were opening a letter written yesterday. Each page was covered with notes— travelogues, mostly— with postcards from various countries taped to the pages. Amy paused at a page of notes from a trip to China. Grace had never told them about this trip…. A & H— Amy's heart jumped. That would be Arthur and Hope! "Dan?" she called out. "Amy… look!" Dan blurted out. He shuffled