by A. Sparrow
Urszula felt for the scepter she no longer carried. In another world, the transit officer’s skull would have already been turned to dust.
“Officer! Please … you’re agitating her. That’s not gonna help. Trust me.”
“Well, you better get her calmed down, and get some clothes on her, or I’m gonna have her admitted. Got it?”
“Here, step into these.” I held the sweats open. Urszula hesitated, but then she hopped in, the waist band rising up to her chest. Ellen rolled them up at the ankles so they wouldn’t drag on the ground. I cinched the drawstring as tight as it would go. Rolls of fabric dangled off her butt.
Ellen glanced up at the arrivals screen with concern. “We’d better get down to that platform.
***
I took Urszula by the elbow and guided her gently down the stairs. She wobbled like a drunkard, barely able to keep herself upright. It was hard to believe this was the robust soul I knew in the Liminality. She was just a wisp of a waif. Seemed younger than thirteen, until you looked into her eyes.
“Where did she come from?” said Ellen.
“That place I go? She’s from there.”
Ellen shook her head in disbelief. “But how?”
“I don’t know.”
Urszula rubbed at her fingers. She must have noticed that she had no claws anymore, just blunt fingernails at the ends of long, delicate fingers.
Ellen gasped. “They’re here!”
“Who?” I turned my head.
“Don’t look!” Ellen grabbed my chin and forced it back. “It’s that guy, Jozef. Sergei’s right hand man. He’s standing by the southbound tracks.”
“Holy crap! They must think I’m going to Florida.”
A pair of headlights appeared in the tunnel, growing until the massive fuselage of the train filled the space between us and the next set of tracks.
“I think they spotted us!” said Ellen. “They were heading up the stairs.”
The doors opened. “Come on! All the way to the front. The more crowded the car, the better for us.”
We made our way through a half dozen cars until we could go no more. The front-most car was only about half full, but it was easily the most occupied.
We found a pair of facing seats with a little table between them. “Get low,” said Ellen. Stay away from the windows till we get rolling.” I kept Urszula tucked under my arm. She buried her face in my chest and brought her knees up tight.
Ellen peered over the back of her seat. The damned doors of the car stayed open. People continued to enter the car. I held my breath and counted the seconds until they finally closed.
“Do you think they got on?” said Ellen.
“I have no idea. You’re sure they saw us?”
“I don’t know for sure”
The trained lurched forward and began to pull out of the station. I reached into the bag and cupped my hand around the Beretta.
“You still have that gun?” said Ellen.
I nodded. My heart was pounding and I was still breathing hard as was Ellen. Urszula was the only calm one in the bunch. She stared out the window, her body relaxing, as every last bit of tension oozed out and she surrendered herself to her fate.
Ellen reached over and tried to smooth her tangled hair. Urszula slapped her hand away and growled.
“You do not touch me!”
“My, she’s a fierce one,” said Ellen. “Oh shit. I almost forgot. Here.” She handed me a crumpled Wendy’s bag holding a cheeseburger and some cold French Fries. “See if she wants some.”
“Want a bite?”
She kept silent and shook her head. Her tears had ceased. The icy glare that she had perfected on the other side was beginning to creep back into her expression, evicting the temporary innocence that had overcome her.
“I do not wish to be here,” she said, but with much less conviction than before.
“Yeah, well. You’re here,” with my mouth full of cheeseburger. “Don’t ask me how. But you’re gonna have to make the best of it. Come on, have some fries.”
I offered her the sack. She pushed my hand away.
Ellen leaned close to my ear. “Does she do the kind of magic that you do?”
“Well, yeah. On the other side. I’m not so sure about here.”
“On … the other side. You mean … the spirit world?”
“Yeah. The spirit world.” I was too tired to try and explain things to her.
“Show me how you do this spell craft here,” said Urszula. “I want to see.”
“Yeah, well. I’m not in the mood. The truth was, I was still getting these snatches of sensation from outside the train. That piece of my will was persisting, outside of me, and it seemed to be following the train.
“Her accent, it’s interesting,” Ellen whispered. “Where is she from?”
“Silesia,” I said, peering over the seat back, half-expecting Jozef and his crew to come barging into our car any second.
Urszula narrowed her eyes at me. “Why are you so nervous?” she said. “Are you under threat?”
“Well, yeah … there are some bad guys after me and Ellen.”
“Enemies?” That bit of news seemed to jolt her into alertness. She unfolded herself and sat upright. She plunged her hand into the courier bag after mine. “Ah! I see you have a weapon. That is good.”
“You know, you’re kind of cute without the gray skin and claws,” I said, risking an ocular evisceration.
“Bah! I am weak now. This flesh. It is inferior. It disgusts me.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
She met my eyes with a flat, cold gaze. “I don’t plan on remaining here. I will find my way back.”
“How?”
“The same way I left this world the first time.”
“You’d off yourself? A little extreme, don’t you think? This place really that bad?”
“It is not my world. Not anymore. I was comfortable in my skin.”
I sighed and crumpled up the wrapper of my cheeseburger. “I don’t know what you’re doing here in the first place. I thought you told me you were dead.”
“I am,” she said. “I am dead. Or at least … I was.”
“She … was dead?” said Ellen.
I took a deep sigh and shrugged.
“She … is resurrected? You resurrected her?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“What else would you call it?” said Ellen. “She was dead, and now she’s not. Some people would call that a miracle.”
“I guess it beats seeing Jesus in a burnt tortilla.” Ellen’s eyes were darting all over. “Stop it! You’ve got that Squeaky Fromme look again.”
Urszula slid over on the seat and pressed her nose against the window. “I see only stone. Only walls. Where are we?”
“We’re under Philadelphia,” I said. “Don’t worry. We’ll be above ground soon.”
“This is America?”
“Yeah.”
“I always wanted to come here, when I was small.”
“Well, here you are,” I said. “Dream come true.”
The door at the back of the car suddenly opened, and from the way I flinched, it was a wonder I didn’t fire that gun. But It was only the ticket-taker.
I finally let myself relax. If Jozef and crew had boarded this train, they would have found us by now.
***
We all napped on and off in a huddle on that seat. Urszula spent a lot of time at the window, squinting into the darkness.
Things were running late because there was a disabled car in Hoboken. I didn’t care. I was in no hurry to get anywhere. I was just waiting for my hope to fade a little more so I could get back to the Liminality. With any luck, I could bring Urszula back with me, put the poor girl out of her misery. Though, for someone who hated this existence so much, she sure spent a lot of time staring out that window.
Ironically, it was presence here that was making it difficult for me to surf my way back. I couldn’t help thinking th
at whatever had brought her here could also bring back Karla, if I could only get to the Deeps and track her down. The sad part was, the more I let such happy thoughts intrude, the less likely I would make it out of this world.
But even that realization would eventually work in my favor once I convinced myself how screwed I was. It was all circular that way, these cycles of hope and despair. Funny, how one could breed the other.
The train finally got rolling again. I braced myself for another confrontation as we passed under the Hudson and into Penn Station. It seemed an obvious checkpoint for Sergei’s crew, but nothing too weird happened when the doors opened. A few guys in suits got off and on, and we were on our way again, passing through Manhattan and out and over the East River.
That little bit of distraction from all the dramas going on in my head was all that was needed to summon the roots. The feeling, when it came, kind of snuck up on me.
Ellen’s head bobbed with each bump and her mouth hung half-open. She was sleeping. Urszula, on the contrary, was drowsy but awake. She brooded, picking at a loose thread in the seam of the seat.
“Listen … Urszula. I feel something coming on. The roots, they’re near. When I tell you, you hang on to me. Hang on to me tight!”
Urszula didn’t bother to wait. She just swooped in and engulfed me in her arms. And it was a good thing she acted when she did, because when those roots decide to pounce, they don’t give you much warning and they do it quick.
Something uncoiled at the base of my spine. Our souls broke loose from this world, like a pair of boats, free of their moorings.
Chapter 13: Below
And just like that, with a little twist of space and time, Urszula and I were back on the mesa, at the edge of that bowl the rift had scoured and polished in the stone.
The rain had stopped and the winds had calmed, but a solid bank of clouds still filled the sky.
Lalibela cruised high overhead. When she spotted Urszula she curled down and alighted on a gathering of gnarled vines as thick as fire hoses.
My terrycloth robe still lay where it had fallen, soggy, but intact, the fibers having yet to revert to their original, rooty state. I wrung it out and pulled it on.
Urszula laughed and rubbed her arms, glorying in the return of her thick, gray hide. Her throaty chuckles trailed away as she stooped to retrieve the bits of her scaly armor.
“That visit. It was so brief. Is that all there is to be?”
“Beats me,” I said. “You being there at all kind of boggles my mind.”
“Does this mean I am dead … again?” She pressed the scaly segments of her armor against her torso and somehow they clung to her skin.
“You sound disappointed. I thought you hated it there.”
“I just … I didn’t have the chance … to absorb … what was happening.”
“Don’t worry about it. I mean, what’s wrong with having another option? Another place to go?”
“I fear … losing control.”
“It’s simple. Don’t touch me when I’m fading.”
“But do you suppose … I might fade on my own now? The way you do?”
I just looked at her and shrugged. “You’re asking me? Nothing makes sense to me anymore. It’s like nothing’s permanent. Nothing’s irreversible. Not that it’s necessarily a bad thing.”
“I wouldn’t mind … going back,” she said, her eyes wistful. “For another taste.”
“Well, first let’s get your bug and get me back to the plains. And pronto, in case you’re on a quicker cycle than me. I need to spend some time with Luther.”
She summoned Lalibela with a sharp clap and a click of her tongue. The dragonfly responded immediately, clambering off the vines and lowering her thorax so we could climb into her saddle.
Urszula held her insect’s harness, and stroked the back of her head, gazing out into the mist. I had already climbed onto the saddle.
“So? Are we going?”
She clenched her eyes and shook her head, before hauling herself up onto Lalibela’s thorax. “Sorry. I am just not used to the idea of having two places to be. This was never a possibility before. It can be awkward, no? Whisking back and forth without warning?”
I sighed. “Welcome to my world. You’re just gonna have to learn how to surf.”
***
The village looked like an anthill that had just gotten stomped by a boot heel. Everyone was in a tizzy over a raid the Frelsians had just attempted. One of the turrets of Luther’s mansion had been blown apart. Piles of smoking debris littered the roofs of the cottages beneath.
Survivors were fleeing back to the foothills, harried by mantids and a contingent of Luther’s militia. The massive carcass of a dying Reaper lay upended on the plains, its stubby legs re-absorbing into its default, undifferentiated, slug-like state.
As Lalibela came in low, skimming the ground, I spotted Bern among the milling crowd. He was dressed for battle in leathery shoulder pads and an antique helmet with a wide brim. He had converted his walking stick into a stout staff taller than himself. An opening at one end flared wide like a blunderbuss.
I hopped off Lalibela before she had come to a halt. I tumbled, rolled and popped to my feet. “Hey Bern! What the heck happened here?”
Bern was all out of breath, his face all flushed. “Surprise attack. Nothing serious. I suspect they were only probing us. I don’t think they expected as much spell craft as we sent their way. Luther certainly has this crew trained up well. They may not look like soldiers, but they are fighters all. I suspect we are in very good hands.”
Several squadrons of mantid riders gathered in a circle on the plain, tending their wounds. A steady flight of bees provided refreshment. I had never seen so many mantids gathered in one place before. The Dusters had mobilized in a big way.
Urszula slapped Lalibela’s side, sending her off on patrol. She strolled over to the mantids and shared a few words with her comrades.
The Reaper looked like a giant pincushion, riddled with long lances, each bearing a pennant with a blue and red harlequin pattern.
“I wonder where Reapers go when they get reaped.” I said, thinking aloud.
“You don’t really believe those beasties have souls?” said Bern. “Do you?”
Several dead Frelsians still lay where they had fallen, some trapped beneath the Reaper. Their wounds were variously fibrous or powdery, depending on the source of the spell craft that had struck them.
I couldn’t help feeling bad for them. They weren’t evil, they were just Hemisouls like me and Bern. They fought under the promise of freeing their souls, but like most, they never got their chance to go free. Now they were likely torn from their lives forever and any possibility of eternal existence in the Liminality. They were down in the Deeps now, most likely. It felt weird, that I planned to join them.
“How’d they manage to get so close?” I said.
“Sneak attack,” said Bern. “They came from below, out of the pits.”
“Holy crap. There are sinkholes all over the place out here.”
“Yes. Well, it won’t be so easy next time around. Luther is already planning a bit of an engineering campaign to secure our perimeter above and below. I have to say, I’ve abandoned the idea of going off on my own. I’m recognizing that there is safety in numbers.”
A flamboyant figure appeared from behind the Reaper. He wore a plumed hat and a metal breastplate. He was accompanied by a large entourage of bodyguards and attendants.
Bern sighed. “And there goes Luther, touring the battlefield. I dare say he seems quite thrilled by this whole affair. The sick bastard seems to find this all entertaining.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“I take it, you didn’t find your back entrance to the Deeps?”
“Well, Urszula showed me the place where she came into this world. But, whatever had let her in, well, it’s not there anymore.”
“I could have told you that much,” said Bern. “Spared
you the trip.”
“I did warn him,” said Urszula, coming up behind us.
“I know … I just … I had to see for myself.”
“Listen, James, I know it how much it hurts to lose Karla. I feel it too. But you need to let her go.”
“I promised I would find her.”
“It is pure folly to go there. The more I hear about it, the more horrible it sounds. Why risk getting stuck there?”
“It was my fault, we lost her.”
“That is not true!” said Urszula. “You tried to warn her. She was careless.”
I shook my head. “I should never have come back here for the raid. I should have stayed with her in Inverness.”
“But we needed you,” said Urszula. “You were the key to our success.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe it wasn’t worth the price.”
“Yes, well, what good does it do you … or Karla … for you to be stuck in the Deeps?” said Bern.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “She is everything. I … I have no purpose here.” Tears popped out of my eyes and trickled down.
Bern and Urszula’s eyes were drawn to something behind me. I turned to find Luther standing there alone, as his entourage looked on in a gaggle a good twenty paces behind us.
He crinkled his brow. “Spare us the drama, Wonder Boy. Getting to the Deeps is no big thing. If you really want to go so badly, I can show you a way in that doesn’t involve Reapers. But you’ll have to promise to do me a small favor.”
“Of course! Anything.”
He waggled his finger at me and sneered at the sky. “Let’s go inside and talk. Looks like it’s about to rain again.”
***
The sprawling mansion that had begun as Bern’s humble one-room cabin had sprouted even more extensions while I was away. And with working parties now assembling to erect walls and battlements, it was well on its way towards becoming a castle.
Luther led me to a chamber, with a stout wooden desk and an antique chair bulky and ornate enough to be a throne. I took one of the three thinly padded chairs facing it. I don’t know why, but the situation reminded me of Sergei’s office in the McMansion. The sheer déjà vu rattled me
Luther sat down and shuffled through some parchments, selecting one that was covered with a fine, inked scrawl.
He rolled it up and tied it with a ribbon.
“This … is for a man I knew. Once … in both worlds. His name was Olivier. He was a dancer, and a man’s man, if you know what I mean. One of my … early obsessions. An enigma. Never satisfied, no matter how great his successes. But never discouraged, no matter how terrible his failures. He was different from most people. From you and me and most of the self-pitying mob that end up here in the Liminality. He had verve, this one. How he ended up in Root, I have no idea … because his spirit was indomitable. But I heard, on the other side, that he was having trouble, so I went and found him in the tunnels. He refused my rescue, insisting on remaining in his pod. I couldn’t force him to submit, because he had the craft in him … strong. As much as you or more. But the Reapers got him before he could come to his senses, before I could convince him to join us in the ‘Burg.”
