Yes. You could learn it, Charles. But there isnt time. We can only stay here long enough to rest up and make a few preparations.
Meg hardly listened to her. I want to know what theyre saying! I want to know what it means.
Try, Charles, Mrs Whatsit urged. Try to translate. You can let yourself go, now. You dont have to hold back.
But I cant! Charles Wallace cried in an anguished voice. I dont know enough! Not yet!
Then try to work with me and Ill see if I cant verbalize it a little for them.
Charles Wallace got his look of probing, of listening.
I know that look! Meg thought suddenly. Now I think I know what it means! Because Ive had it myself, sometimes, doing math with father, when a problem is just about to come clear
Mrs Whatsit seemed to be listening to Charless thoughts. Well, yes, thats an idea. I can try. Too bad you dont really know it so you can give it to me direct, Charles. Its so much more work this way.
Dont be lazy, Charles said.
Mrs Whatsit did not take offence. She explained, Oh, its my favourite kind of work, Charles. Thats why they chose me to go along, even though Im so much younger. Its my one real talent. But it takes a tremendous amount of energy, and were going to need every ounce of energy for whats ahead of us. But Ill try. For Calvin and Meg Ill try. She was silent; the great wings almost stopped moving. Listen, then, Mrs Whatsit said. The resonant voice rose and the words seemed to be all round them so that Meg felt that she could almost reach out and touch them: Sing unto the Lord a new song, and his praise front the end of the earth, ye that go down to the sea, and all that is therein; the isles, and the inhabitants thereof. Let the wilderness and the cities thereof lift their voice; let the inhabitants of the rock sing, let them shout from the top of the mountains. Let them give glory unto the Lord!
When Mrs Whatsit sighed it seemed completely incomprehensible that through this bliss could come the faintest whisper of doubt.
We must go now, children. Mrs Whatsits voice was deep with sadness, and Meg could not understand. Raising her head, Mrs Whatsit gave a call that seemed to be a command, and one of the creatures flying above the trees nearest them raised its head to listen, and then flew off and picked three flowers from a tree growing near the river and brought them over. Each of you take one, Mrs Whatsit said. Ill tell you how to use them later.
As Meg took her flower she realized that it was not a single blossom, but hundreds of tiny flowerets forming a kind of hollow bell.
Where are we going? Calvin asked.
Up.
The wings moved steadily, swiftly. The garden was left behind, the stretch of granite, the mighty shapes, and then Mrs Whatsit was flying upwards. Below them the trees of the mountain dwindled, became sparse, were replaced by bushes and then small, dry grasses, and then vegetation ceased entirely and there were only rocks, points and peaks of rock, sharp and dangerous. Hold on tight, Mrs Whatsit said. Dont slip.
Meg felt Calvins arm circle her waist in a secure hold.
Still they moved upwards.
Now they were in clouds. They could see nothing but drifting whiteness, and the moisture clung to them and condensed in icy drops. As Meg shivered, Calvins grip tightened. In front of her Charles Wallace sat quietly. Once he turned just long enough to give her a swift glance of tenderness and concern. But Meg felt as each moment passed that he was growing farther away, that he was becoming less her adored baby brother and more one with whatever kind of being Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who, and Mrs Which in actuality were.
Abruptly they burst out of the clouds into a shaft of light. Below them there were still rocks; above them the rocks continued to reach up into the sky, but now, though it seemed miles upwards, Meg could see where the mountain at last came to an end.
Mrs Whatsit continued to climb, her wings straining a little. Meg felt her heart racing; cold sweat began to gather on her face and her lips as though they were turning blue. She began to gasp.
All right, children, use your flowers now, Mrs Whatsit said. The atmosphere will continue to get thinner. Hold the flowers up to your face and breathe through them and they will give you enough oxygen. It wont be as much as youre used to, but it will be enough.
Meg had almost forgotten the flowers, and was grateful that she hadnt let them fall from her fingers. She pressed her face into the blossoms and breathed deeply.
Calvin still held her with one arm, but he, too, held the flowers to his face.
Charles Wallace moved the hand with the flowers slowly, almost as though he were in a dream.
Mrs Whatsits wings strained against the thinness of the atmosphere. The summit was only a little way above them, and then they were there. Mrs Whatsit came to rest on a small plateau of smooth silvery rock. There ahead of them was a great white disc.
One of Uriels moons, Mrs Whatsit told them, her mighty voice faintly breathless.
Oh, its beautiful! Meg cried. Its beautiful!
The silver light from the enormous moon, blending with the golden quality of the day, flowed over the children, over Mrs Whatsit, over the mountain peak.
Now we will turn around, Mrs Whatsit said, and at the quality of her voice, Meg was again afraid.
But when they turned she saw nothing. Ahead of them was the thin clear blue of sky, below them the rocks thrusting out of the shifting sea of white clouds.
Now we will wait, Mrs Whatsit said, for sunset and moonset. Almost as she spoke the light began to darken.
I want to watch the moon set, Charles Wallace said.
No, child. Do not turn around, any of you. Face out towards the dark. What I have to show you will be more visible then. Look ahead, straight ahead, as far as you can possibly look.
Megs eyes ached from the strain of looking and seeing nothing. Then, above the clouds which encircled the mountain, she seemed to see a shadow, a faint thing of darkness.
Charles Wallace said,Whats that?
That sort of shadow out there, Calvin gestured. What is it? I dont like it.
Watch, Mrs Whatsit commanded.
It was a shadow, nothing but a shadow. It was not even as tangible as a cloud. Was it cast by something? Or was it a Thing in itself?
The sky darkened. The gold left the light and they were surrounded by blue, blue deepening until where there had been nothing but the evening sky there was now a faint pulse of star, and then another and another. There were more stars than Meg had ever seen before.
The atmosphere is so thin here, Mrs Whatsit said as though in answer to her unasked question, that it does not obscure your vision as it would at home. Now look. Look straight ahead.
Meg looked. The dark shadow was still there. It had not lessened or dispersed with the coming of night. And where the shadow was the stars were not visible.
What could there be about a shadow that was so terrible that she knew that there had never been before or ever would be again, anything that would chill her with a fear beyond the possibility of comfort?
Megs hand holding the blossoms slowly dropped and it seemed as though a knife gashed through her lungs. She gasped, but there was no air for her to breathe. Darkness glazed her eyes and mind, but as she started to fall into unconsciousness her head dropped down into the flowers which she was still clutching; and as she inhaled their fragrance her mind and body revived, and she sat up again.
The shadow was still there, dark and dreadful.
Calvin held her hand strongly in his, but she felt neither strength nor reassurance in his touch. Beside her a tremor went through Charles Wallace, but he sat very still. He shouldnt be seeing this, Meg thought. This is too much for so little a boy, no matter how different and extraordinary a little boy.