The Forbidden Lock

by Liesl Shurtliff

  “Let’s get to work,” Captain Vincent said.

  “As you wish it,” the man said. His voice was deep and gruff. He had a European accent, German, Matt thought, or maybe Dutch. He took his case and followed Captain Vincent to the edge of the train car, right in front of Matt’s parents, who were both reaching for Corey. Captain Vincent waved a hand at all the stilled raindrops so they moved aside like a curtain. It made a strange sound, something like tinkling glass and sloshing liquid. Matt shifted a little to keep out of view, which was a mistake. The stranger turned his head and locked eyes with him. Matt froze, held his breath, but he was certain the man knew he was awake, that he had seen him move, and now he would tell Captain Vincent.

  But he didn’t say anything. He simply lifted an eyebrow at Matt, then turned his attention back to Captain Vincent. Interesting.

  “Where do you wish to begin, Your Majesty?” the man asked.

  Your Majesty? Was Vincent a king now? Of what? The world?

  “Him, of course,” Captain Vincent said, nodding toward Mr. Hudson. “That should solve a great deal, I think, though perhaps not all. We might need to do some work on her as well.” He nodded toward Mrs. Hudson. “And the children, depending on the results.”

  What was he talking about? What did he mean by “work”?

  Captain Vincent reached out and grabbed Mr. Hudson by the throat. Matt gasped, thinking he was going to strangle his father, but then the captain released his grip and pulled something away. Matt had no idea what it was. It was shimmering blue, almost fluorescent, and it flowed from his dad’s throat like a watery, sparkling fabric. Images floated within the material. Matt saw his mom, Corey and Ruby, himself and others, scenes from his father’s life. It looked similar to the smoky vapor that had come out of Matt’s compass, though this material looked more solid and vibrant, like it was a living thing.

  The stranger opened the case he’d been guarding and pulled out a long cylinder. It looked to Matt like a stick of dynamite, but this couldn’t be any normal explosive. It had a strange iridescent glow, similar to the material flowing out his dad’s throat. It looked and felt alive. Matt could feel it, even from his hiding spot. It made his blood rush.

  The stranger handed the dynamite over to the captain. Matt felt panic rise in him. Whatever the captain was going to do to his dad, he was sure it wasn’t benign. He could not stand by and watch. He had to do something. Anything.

  “Stop!” Matt shouted as he jumped forward and then quickly retreated. The stilled droplets of rain poked and sliced him when he came against them, like hundreds of glass shards dangling in the air.

  “Mateo!” Captain Vincent said, in his congenial but oily voice. “How glad I am to see you.” Santiago, sitting on Captain Vincent’s shoulder, hissed at Matt, his traditional greeting for him. “Come now, Santiago. Aren’t you glad to see our friend Mateo? Or is it Marius Quine now?” He turned back to Matt. “Are you going by your true identity yet? I am not entirely sure when that change happens.”

  Matt felt the blood drain from his face. He knew. Captain Vincent knew he was Marius Quine. How did he know? What did that mean? He didn’t have time to work that through his brain. There were more important things at stake in this moment. “Don’t touch my dad,” Matt said. He tried to step forward but got jabbed again with the shards of rain.

  Matt touched his cheek and winced at the sting. Bright blood smeared on his fingers.

  “Be careful, Mateo,” Captain Vincent said. “The world is a precarious place even outside of time. For mortals, at least.” He took a white handkerchief out of his jacket and held it out to Matt. Matt hesitated, wondering if there was some trick in this.

  “I’m not trying to trick you,” Captain Vincent said. “Here.” He tossed the handkerchief. Matt caught it and pressed it to his bleeding face without taking his eyes off Captain Vincent. He was closer to him now, and they weren’t traveling, so he had a better view. At first glance he looked the same as he always had ever since Matt had first met him. A handsome man with dark hair and eyes, a neatly trimmed beard around his chiseled jaw, wearing his usual black clothing and red Converse. But Matt could see the differences too. They were subtle but unmistakable. He had a strange aura about him, a sort of bluish glow that seemed otherworldly. Anyone else might mistake it for an effect of the light, or your own failing eyesight, but in the dim light of the storm it was noticeable. The other thing Matt noticed was the scar, or rather the lack of it. The captain was supposed to have a scar on his right cheek, where Matt had sliced him with a sword. Granted, it could have been any number of years for the captain since that time, but Matt was certain he had cut him deep enough to make a permanent scar that no amount of time would heal. But the scar wasn’t there. There wasn’t even a trace of it.

  Captain Vincent, seeming to know what Matt was staring at, reached up and brushed the spot where the scar should have been. “Another benefit of the Aeternum,” he said. “I don’t bleed anymore. Nothing can hurt me. The Aeternum truly does mend all that is broken.”

  Where was the Aeternum? The compass? Matt searched for the gold chain and the small bulge at the captain’s left sleeve where he usually kept it, but he didn’t see it. His compass did not heat up against his skin like it always did when it was in its own presence. It remained cool and lifeless around his neck.

  “It’s gone,” Captain Vincent said, once again seeming to read Matt’s thoughts. “Or I should say it’s a part of me now. No one can take it from me. I am the Aeternum. And now I’ll be able to fix everything to how it always should have been.” He took his eyes off Matt and glanced toward Mrs. Hudson.

  Matt instinctively took a step toward her. Both she and Mr. Hudson were reaching out toward Corey. They looked like wax statues, something from Madame Tussauds. “What did you do to them?”

  “Nothing,” Captain Vincent said. “I simply stopped time. Humans are highly attached to time. But not you and me. We are different.”

  Matt was reminded of Quine’s words. “We have always been different. We have different rules.” How was he different? He didn’t have the Aeternum. Even when he had it, he hadn’t known what it was, hadn’t known how to use it. He was pretty sure he wasn’t immortal. He could bleed. He was fairly certain he could die.

  “What about him?” Matt nodded toward the stranger. He’d been completely silent and almost as still as everyone else. He barely glanced at Matt when he spoke.

  “He is a regular human being,” the captain said, “though an intelligent one, I’ll grant him. He knows how to choose sides wisely. We look forward to the time you join us.”

  “I’m not joining you,” Matt said, disgusted.

  The captain smiled at him like he was an obstinate toddler. “I know you think I am your enemy, Mateo. But I am not. I never have been.”

  “Fine,” Matt spat. “Then go away and leave us alone. We won’t bother you if you won’t bother us.”

  Captain Vincent chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s not the way this is going to work. There won’t be any kind of truce or compromise. I’m simply going to make things right. You’ll understand eventually. One day you’ll come to me and tell me just about everything I need to know in order to succeed. You know how I know? Because you already did.”

  “What are you talking about? No, I didn’t!”

  Captain Vincent just shook his head, still smiling at Matt in that patronizing way that made him want to gouge out his eyeballs. “Remember how I said when we first met it wasn’t the first time for me? Remember the Mona Lisa? The message? The key?”

  The hair on the back of Matt’s neck prickled. He’d almost forgotten about that time he’d stood right in Captain Vincent’s cabin, and the captain produced his own Mets hat that had contained a secret message inside of it that had essentially set him on the path to getting the Aeternum. Which essentially Matt had given him. “I’ve known we were on the same side from the very beginning. You might not know it yet, but you will. I promise.”

&
nbsp; Matt shook his head. No, he wouldn’t. It didn’t matter what his future self had done. There had to be an explanation. Vincent was trying to harm his family, and Matt would never, never allow it. No matter what.

  Captain Vincent brushed the watery material flowing out of Mr. Hudson’s throat.

  “What is that?” Matt asked.

  “This is a time tapestry,” the captain said. “Our time in the world, everything we see and do, everyone we come in contact with, is woven into our very beings, creating a tapestry of our lives.” Captain Vincent pulled more of the material from Mr. Hudson. Flashes of images shone in its rippling, iridescent folds. Matt, Corey, and Ruby, and their mom. Everywhere was his mom.

  “The Aeternum made it possible for me to access it so I could change it as I wished, change things in the past, rearrange. Or erase completely. I’ve found that’s a better way to take care of some problems. Just make them go away. Here. I shall demonstrate now.”

  Captain Vincent lifted that strange, glowing stick of dynamite and wrapped it inside of Mr. Hudson’s time tapestry.

  “What are you doing? Stop!”

  “Don’t worry,” Captain Vincent said. “It will only be a moment, and then all will be just as it always should have been.” He struck a match and lit the wick. It hissed and started to burn. The fabric began to tremble as though it could sense a threat.

  Matt was panicking. What could he do? He wasn’t good in these kinds of situations. He needed Corey and Ruby. What would they do? He glanced at Corey, frozen in midair, his father’s map crumpled in his hand. Corey wouldn’t think so hard. He’d just act. And Ruby . . . Matt’s eyes landed on Ruby’s sword in the scabbard at her side. He pulled it out and before he could second-guess himself, he leaped. The tiny spears of rain sliced his face as he soared through the air, sword raised. He landed on the Vermillion and slashed the sword down with both hands over Captain Vincent’s wrist, slicing through skin, snapping bones. Captain Vincent made a beastly kind of growl as his hand was severed clean off. It fell between the two trains and disappeared, along with the strange dynamite.

  Mr. Hudson’s life tapestry spun back into his throat, but Matt couldn’t take his eyes off Captain Vincent’s handless wrist. There was no blood, only skin, sinew, and bone. And then, to Matt’s shock and horror, the skin began to knit itself together, healing with incredible speed. The flesh swelled and split into small fingers that thickened as they lengthened. The captain’s hand was regrowing itself.

  Matt backed away. He let go of Ruby’s sword. It fell between the train cars, and then . . .

  Boom!

  The dynamite must have exploded beneath the trains. A flash of blue light erupted, and with a sudden jolt, the timeline started again. Everything went back into motion. Matt toppled over as the trains suddenly started moving. The rain went back to regular liquid rain. Corey continued in his leap. Albert still had ahold of his shirt, but Mr. and Mrs. Hudson both grabbed on to Corey’s hand and pulled him over, and they all rolled in a big heap.

  Matt didn’t think twice. He scrambled to his feet and took a running jump back to Blossom. As soon as he landed, he grabbed his compass and turned the dials. He set the compass to the only time and place he could think of in that moment. Blossom immediately began to transform. The rocky cliffs and mountains seemed to shrink.

  Then Matt heard a scream. It was Jia. “Pike! What are you doing?!”

  A pale little blur leaped across to the Vermillion.

  “Stop! Don’t go yet! We need to get Pike!”

  But it was too late. They were traveling now.

  The last thing Matt saw before they disappeared was Captain Vincent reaching out his freshly grown hand toward them. He came so close, Matt could have sworn he felt it graze his scraped and bleeding cheek.

  6

  Stowaways

  New York City

  Matt was not certain what Blossom was transforming into, but it was definitely not a train or a boat or a car. The surface beneath him became cool and smooth, some kind of metal. He slid along its surface until he caught onto a thin pole. He felt a powerful rush of wind, heard the sputtering roar of an engine.

  They burst through the darkness, into bright light and a shock of cold air. Matt’s stomach jumped to his throat as they plummeted about twenty feet in a second. They were in the sky. Blossom had transformed into an airplane. It was a very old-fashioned airplane, with wide double wings connected by thin metal poles. Matt was sitting on top of one of the wings, clinging to one of the poles. Jia was on the same wing as him, clinging to another pole. She was shouting. Matt couldn’t hear her, but he knew she was shouting for Pike.

  Uncle Chuck was at the controls of the plane, with Gaga crouched behind him. This plane didn’t have a cockpit, just a few gears and levers, and a watch-like instrument mounted on a pole.

  His parents and Corey were still in a heap, a big tangle of arms and legs. He could hardly tell where one started and the other began. One of the arms, his dad’s it looked like, was hanging on to a pole.

  But where was Ruby? Matt looked around. He couldn’t see her. Had they somehow left her behind? They couldn’t have. She had stayed on Blossom. Only Corey had jumped to the Vermillion.

  Then he spotted her. Or her hands at least. She was hanging off the edge of the wing! Her two hands were clinging for dear life to one of the poles.

  The plane rattled and dipped. They rose up and then plummeted again. Matt felt like his stomach was being twisted and flipped inside out. But he had to get Ruby. Slowly and carefully, he made his way to her. Ruby looked up at him with pure terror in her eyes. Holding tight to a pole with one hand, Matt leaned down and shouted in Ruby’s ear, “Swing up a leg!” She swung a leg up enough for Matt to catch it and pull her over the wing. Ruby wrapped her arms tightly around Matt’s neck, but then the plane tilted, and Ruby grabbed on to one of the poles.

  They were flying a little lower now. Matt could see skyscrapers and bridges and the ocean. They were soaring over New York. Home. That was all Matt could think of in those last moments. He just wanted to go home with his family.

  They were headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge. There was clearly something going on there. Matt thought he could see quite a bit of commotion, like traffic had come to a full stop on the bridge, but he couldn’t see what had caused it. Maybe there had been an accident.

  They flew on, wrapping around the Statue of Liberty. A giant bird was circling the crown. Its wingspan was enormous. What kind of bird was that? An eagle? A condor, maybe? It looked bigger than any bird he’d ever seen. The bird landed on the crown of the Statue of Liberty, stretched and folded its wings. Matt squinted, studying the bird’s profile. It sort of looked like a pterodactyl. But that was impossible.

  The plane circled around the Statue of Liberty again. Matt could tell Uncle Chuck was trying to decide where they should land. Water or land? If they landed in water they could crash and drown, and if they landed on land they might crash and burn, not to mention possibly injure or kill innocent people.

  The plane dipped, then raised a bit, then dipped again. They got lower and lower. It looked like Uncle Chuck had decided on a water landing. As they first touched the water, Matt thought perhaps he should turn the dials again, see if he could nudge Blossom to transform into a boat or ship, but it seemed Blossom was one step ahead of him. After the first few splashes, Blossom began to shift. The plane’s wings folded in like a bird landing on water. The body of the plane stretched and widened into a long boat. A mast shot through the center, right in the place where Corey was tangled up with his parents. A single square sail unfurled and puffed out in the wind. The boat rocked violently. Water splashed over the sides, soaking Matt’s already wet shorts and sneakers. Gaga was curled up in the fetal position on the bottom of the boat. Uncle Chuck tried to stand and take a few steps, but instantly fell down and stayed there.

  Matt braced himself on a bench and turned all around, searching for any signs of Captain Vincent or the Vermillion
. A water taxi approached, and he almost thought he saw the compass and V symbol on the side, but it was only a white life preserver with a few red stripes. He kept his fingers poised on the dials of the compass. He jumped at every movement, any boat, ship, or ferry, near or far. He searched for the symbol of the Vermillion.

  Someone touched his shoulder. Matt flinched and whipped around, breathing hard. But it was only Ruby. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s just me.”

  Matt nodded. “You okay?” he asked. Ruby’s face was flushed, and chunks of hair had been pulled free of her braid, but she didn’t look hurt.

  “I’m fine, thanks to you.”

  Matt looked around one more time. No Vermillion. No Captain Vincent. No time pirates. He took a breath as though it was his first in ages and slumped down to the floor, overcome with exhaustion and dizziness. He felt as though he’d been put through a shredder and then hastily glued back together. It was all very tenuous. He could fall apart at any moment.

  Ruby knelt down beside him. “Matt, your face . . . What happened?”

  Matt touched his cheek and felt the sting. He looked at his fingers, saw the blood. Somehow the sight of it made the pain bloom everywhere. His arms were cut up, too, and his shirt and shorts were in shreds. It was a miracle they were still on his body.

  His mom was suddenly there, and Corey and his dad. His mom’s hair had been ripped free of its ponytail and was a wild mess. His dad’s hair was also crazy, his glasses askew, and his face extremely pale. Matt automatically looked at his throat, searching for any sign of injury from where Captain Vincent had pulled that watery material. His time tapestry. He couldn’t see anything, but he couldn’t believe it hadn’t had some effect.

  “Dad,” Matt said. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, buddy, I’m okay.”

  “You sure? Count your ABCs and sing your numbers.”

  His dad gave him a funny look. “I think the one we need to worry about is you, bud. You look like you’ve been in a war zone.”