The Edge of the Ocean

by L. D. Lapinski

  “Oh.” Flick blinked and smiled. She didn’t think she’d ever had a friend say they missed her before. It made her feel shy, but in a good way. “I would have come in, but I was with my mom. She’d only ask questions. That’s pretty much all she’s done since I didn’t come home that night.”

  “Ah. Understandable. Still, that’s—”

  “Hey— Jonathan, isn’t it?”

  The two of them turned around to see a very tall, broad-shouldered young man in a rugby shirt. He was holding a four-pint bottle of whole milk in one hand, and he was grinning good-naturedly.

  At the sight of him, Jonathan seemed to shrink. He grasped his shopping basket tightly in two hands. “H-hello,” he said, his voice slipping upward several octaves.

  “Hey,” the young man said again. “It is Jonathan, isn’t it?”

  Jonathan nodded like he was one of those dolls you keep in the back window of a car. “Yes. And—and you’re Anthony.”

  “That’s me.” Anthony looked at Flick and then back to Jonathan. “Are you going to introduce me to your… sister? Friend?”

  “This is Felicity,” Jonathan said, his eyes staying on Anthony like they’d been glued. “She’s just a friend.”

  “Nice to meet you, Felicity-just-a-friend.” Anthony shook her hand, and she smiled. It was like shaking hands with a friendly giant.

  “Nice to meet you too. So, how do you know Jonathan?” It seemed incredibly unlikely that this cheerful, freckled mountain of a young man was a member of the Strangeworlds Society, but she wasn’t about to rule it out either.

  “Oh, I’m a student rep. I work at the college up the road.” He gestured with a thumb. “I was helping out at the open house, and Jonathan here was one of the few people who didn’t laugh at my efforts to tell people about courses.”

  “You were very good. Knowledgeable. I mean,” Jonathan said. His cheeks had gone rather pink.

  Anthony rolled his eyes, but seemed pleased. “Thanks. Did you sign up for a course?”

  Jonathan seemed to shake himself. “Er, yes. I signed up for the modern geography module in the end. That was an excellent suggestion.”

  Anthony nodded. “No problem. Well, I’ll leave you guys to your shopping. It was nice to meet you, Felicity, and I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He smiled at Jonathan.

  “Yes, I—I’ll see you at—at college.”

  Anthony nodded, and Jonathan gave a little wiggly fingered wave as he turned away.

  As soon as Anthony had rounded the corner, Jonathan covered his face with a hand. “Oh, God. Is there any chance you could be persuaded to never mention that encounter ever again?”

  Flick grinned. “Really? You want me to pretend I never saw you do this?” She mocked his little wave.

  “Felicity, I’m begging you.” He dropped his hand. “Please.”

  “All right, fine,” she said. Then smiled. “For what it’s worth, he seemed nice.”

  Flick’s mother came over then, her trolley rattling as one of the wheels tried to go the opposite direction of the other three. “Come on, Felicity, let’s get going,” she said. She looked at Jonathan. “Have we met?”

  Jonathan gave what could only be described as a winning smile and stuck his hand out. “I’m Felicity’s friend, Jonathan. I must say,” he added, “I’m rather sorry Felicity never came back to help in the shop.”

  Flick’s heart stopped.

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I run a local travel agency. Felicity said she was keen to start a summer job, did a brilliant first day, and then she never turned up again,” Jonathan lied, as smooth as cream. “I thought she’d changed her mind.”

  Flick’s heart started up again. She shook her head. “No, I just haven’t been able to get down there. I’m sorry.”

  “You never said you were looking for a summer job,” her mom said suspiciously.

  “I’ve not been allowed to explain anything, much.” Flick knew that wasn’t true, but it was important to steer her mother away from any possible connection between Jonathan and the night she had failed to come home.

  “It’s a shame,” Jonathan went on, “because she was such an asset. You don’t find young people as willing to work that hard, even in Little Wyverns.”

  Moira Hudson fluffed up at the praise of her daughter. “Yes, well, Felicity has always been very mature for her age. Very responsible.”

  Jonathan’s crowd-pleaser smile stayed plastered on his face. “It’s testament to how well brought up she is, I think. A real reflection on you.”

  Flick wouldn’t have thought her mother would be so easily suckered by such obvious flattery, but she was actually preening a little. After weeks of anger and upset, she was being smoothed over like icing on a cake. Maybe flattery was Jonathan’s superpower, or maybe there was only so long you could carry on being annoyed with someone. Either way, it was amazing to watch her mom’s shoulders relax for the first time in weeks.

  Jonathan carried on. “It would be a shame for the training I started to give Felicity to go to waste. Computers and systems and such. The sort of thing that would really shine in a résumé.”

  Flick saw something flicker behind her mother’s eyes. Moira Hudson knew enough about college and university admissions to recognize how useful this would be. She gave her daughter a shrewd look.

  “I’ll improve my timekeeping,” Flick said. “Promise.”

  Her mom took a deep breath in through her nose. “All right,” she said. “But if you ever—”

  “I won’t,” Flick said quickly. “Cross my heart and all that.”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” her mom said, but Flick knew she had been won over. Freddy blew a raspberry. “Come on, Felicity. We’ve only got another hour on the parking lot. Nice to meet you, Jonathan.” She nodded at him and started back down the aisle.

  Jonathan let the grin drop off his face. He fixed his tie and raised his eyebrows at Flick in a question.

  Flick winked at Jonathan. See you tomorrow, she mouthed.

  Jonathan tapped his watch. Ten sharp.

  3

  The walls of the Strangeworlds Travel Agency were filled top to bottom with large, rectangular holes, or slots. And each of these slots contained a suitcase. There were small ones and large ones and wicker ones and leather ones, and ones where the locks had been welded shut with some sort of gloopy metal that felt cold to the touch.

  One of the suitcases—specifically, a sunshine-yellow one made of thick, varnished cardboard—began to fidget. It shuffled and inched, as if trying to escape from its hole. This was no easy task, as the space had been built to fit exactly, and the wriggle-room was mere millimeters.

  But gradually, oh so gradually, the case pushed itself out of its space in the wall and tumbled to the floor with a thud. Immediately, the top was flung open and a girl stepped out, arms held as wide as her smile.

  “Ta-dah,” she trilled, to the empty shop.

  Then she let her arms drop. “Oh.”

  Outside, a streetlamp shone. The clocks on the mantelpiece ticked, and the shop was in gloom, for, as the largest clockface stubbornly told her, it was two o’clock in the morning.

  Avery Eldritch pulled a face. “Hm.” She folded her arms and went behind the desk. She gave the untidy desk a once-over, snorted derisively, then turned to the faded novels in the bookcase behind her and chose Terry Pratchett’s Night Watch.

  She pulled it off the shelf, and three other books came with it, tumbling to the floor with loud thumps that made her wince. She swore under her breath, watching the doorway to the kitchen.

  Before too long, a varnished cricket bat came into view, held by a hand protruding from the sleeve of a rather fetching maroon dressing gown. “I have to warn you,” a voice squeaked, “I am armed, and quite prepared to—”

  “It’s me,” she said. “It’s Avery.”

  The cricket bat lowered a little, and Jonathan, hair on end from sleep, peered around the door
frame. His mouth dropped open. “A-Averina?”

  Avery smirked as she took in his dressing gown and shedding slippers. “Surprised?”

  “Extremely.” Jonathan pushed his glasses up his nose. “What are you doing here? Is Portia here?” He looked around.

  “No, Mom isn’t here, just me. What’s wrong? You’re not excited to see your cousin?” She grinned nervously.

  Jonathan gave a small laugh. “Sort-of cousin.”

  “True. I think I’m actually your aunt-several-times-removed or something.” She folded her arms tightly, like she was hugging herself. Her expression became somewhat apprehensive. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Three years. Since Mom died, in fact.” Jonathan put the cricket bat on the end of the desk. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. Does your mother know you’re here?”

  “Pretty sure she’ll soon figure it out if she doesn’t know already.”

  “Will she come after you?”

  “She can’t stand to be in the same room as our suitcase, so I doubt it. What happened to your mom really got to her.” Avery scuffed the floor with her boot. “They forbade me from coming here after that. But, a few weeks ago, we heard about your dad.”

  Jonathan looked up. “Oh?”

  “Mom got a letter from one of the old Strangeworlds Society members. Quickspark?”

  “Oh yes, Greysen and Darilyn in Five Lights.”

  “They explained what had happened to your dad, and how you were looking for him. Wondered if we had any information. Which we didn’t, I’m afraid. It was the first we’d heard of it. I said I wanted to come through and see you, but Mom and Dad said no, it was too dangerous. So, I waited until they weren’t looking.” She sniffed. “I figured I’d been kept from seeing you for too long, anyway. And they’re too cowardly to come after me, so… I’ve run away, basically.”

  “Which isn’t stupid at all.” Jonathan smirked, though without malice. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad to see you, Averina.”

  They smiled stupidly at each other for a minute, before Avery went in for a hug, which Jonathan tolerated for three whole seconds before pushing her gently away. “Care to explain the hour?”

  “Miscalculation. Sorry.”

  “Not to worry.” Jonathan yawned.

  “Anyway,” Avery said. “I didn’t just come here to say sorry about your dad. Which I am, by the way—but there’s something else. Something important.”

  Jonathan’s yawn disappeared, and his mouth snapped shut. “What?”

  “The House on the Horizon,” she said, with an air of mystery.

  Jonathan stared, unimpressed. “The Strangeworlds Society Outpost? In the Desert of Dreams? What about it?”

  “Heard from it lately?”

  Jonathan tightened his dressing gown belt, before pulling the enormous Society Register from the bookshelf and crashing it down onto the desk. “I haven’t heard from anyone lately. Besides, I don’t even know for sure if it’s manned.” He caught Avery’s eye and said, “Peopled, I mean. Staffed.”

  Avery gave a small smile. “I overheard my parents talking about it. About a man named Thess who apparently lives there. Mom said he’s been part of the Strangeworlds Society since the beginning.”

  “That would make him a seriously old man,” Jonathan said, flipping through the pages of the register, “so I’m assuming he’s not from my world, at least.”

  “But if he’s been part of the Society from the start… I thought maybe he could help find your dad.”

  Jonathan looked up from the book, sharply. “What makes you think that?”

  “He’s been around for a long time. Maybe he knows something we don’t. Or you don’t.”

  “I don’t know a Mr. Thess.” Jonathan shrugged. He looked back at the list of names. “But, if he’s a Society member, his name should be written down.”

  “The thing is…” Avery paused. “My mom says he’s dangerous. He’s been seen around Five Lights and other worlds too, asking questions—and not being polite about it. Someone said he had a gun.”

  Jonathan paused, a memory coming back to him. “The children in Tam’s forest said they’d seen a man who had a gun. He came out of a suitcase.”

  “Could it be him?”

  “I hope so,” Jonathan said. “Last thing I need is two armed gunmen running around in and out of suitcases. Aha.” He turned the book around. “Thess. Danser Thess. It says here he was the Strangeworlds Custodian at Phaeton’s Trading Post before Mr. Maskelyne. I was there recently.” He touched the back of his head, remembering the pain of falling onto rocks, the abandoned mountainside, and the landscape that was bare—no outpost to be seen. “The entire outpost was gone,” he said to Avery. “Nothing left except snow and rocks. And the ledger doesn’t say where Thess went after that.”

  Avery leaned forward to see. “Apparently the Quicksparks heard him telling people he’s guarding the House on the Horizon.”

  “Well, if he is, he hasn’t bothered telling me,” Jonathan said. “It says here that that contact for the House on the Horizon is lost.…” He trailed off.

  “Another lost person,” Avery said thoughtfully. “Or maybe not lost, but unable to be contacted? How do you get to a place that’s always on the horizon?”

  Jonathan frowned. “Wait—always? The House is always on the horizon? So, if you move forward, it moves farther away?”

  “Exactly. You can see it, but you can’t get to it.”

  “But the Strangeworlds Society must have had a way of getting to it,” Jonathan said. “It’s an outpost—there would be suitcases stored there. There must be a suitcase here that can take us there. Unless someone has moved it.” He glanced up at the empty slot in the wall of suitcases, which had been relieved of its case by his father, Daniel Mercator, just before his disappearance.

  “So… should we try to go there?” Avery prompted.

  Jonathan rubbed at his forehead. “Maybe. I suppose it’s worth a shot. I have no idea where the right suitcase might be, but we can start searching in the morning. It shouldn’t take too long, with the three of us.”

  “Three of us?” Avery asked in surprise.

  “Oh, yes.” Jonathan grinned. “Didn’t I tell you? I’ve recruited a new Society member.”

  4

  Flick got to Strangeworlds at ten on the dot.

  It was a joy to be out of the house, alone, with no Freddy to be pushed in a stroller and entertained, and no Mom or Dad nagging at her to stop scuffing the heels of her shoes.

  Flick felt positively bouncy in her good mood. She grinned as she watched people hurrying past the travel agency as though it wasn’t there. Their eyes slid from the secondhand bookshop on one side to the church on the other without blinking. The place did have the occasional visitor, of course; not everyone was so dull in the mind that they didn’t notice it. But rare were the people like Flick and Jonathan—the people born with the ability to see magic.

  Strangeworlds’ bright red sign blared over the bay window, confidently broadcasting the name of the travel agency to the public. The gold letters looked polished and gleaming, and Flick wondered if Jonathan had given the sign a scrub since the last time she was there (though it was difficult to imagine him up a ladder, or doing manual labor). Flick glanced at the tattered red patch she’d safety-pinned onto her sleeve. A magnifying glass embroidered in gold, with a slash of lightning in the middle of the lens shining against the red fabric. She felt a flush of pride. She felt as if she was coming home.

  She pushed open the door and went straight in.

  “See, right on time, just like I promi—” She stopped and stared.

  Instead of Jonathan sitting behind the desk, there was a girl about Flick’s age. She had short black hair that stuck up at the front as though she’d been electrocuted. Her face was round, her dark eyes were sharp, and she looked suspiciously at Flick. The girl was wearing all black, including thick boots that laced up the front.

  “Can I help
you?” she asked, in a tone of voice Flick found very familiar.

  “Um,” Flick said, aware she had been staring at the girl as though she was an escaped cobra. “I was looking for Jonathan?”

  The girl brightened. “Oh! Okay.” She came over. “I’m Avery.” She offered a hand. “Avery Eldritch,” she said. “Not heard of you, yet.”

  “I’m Flick,” Flick said, shaking the pale-brown hand briefly. “I help out?”

  “At Strangeworlds?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Really.” Avery made a face that said sure you do in no uncertain terms.

  The two girls stared at each other. Something about Avery reminded Flick of the girls at Lawrence Academy, Flick’s old school, who would go silent and just wait for you to say something, anything. And then when you did they would laugh at you. So Flick kept quiet, teeth clamped together in case a word tried to sneak out.

  “Jonathan didn’t tell me he had an assistant,” Avery said eventually.

  “I’m not his assistant. I’m…” Flick wondered if she was allowed to mention the Strangeworlds Society to this girl. Surely she was, if she’d been left minding the shop. A sudden burst of annoyance flared inside her. Jonathan had replaced her! After only a few weeks! And he’d acted so eager to have her back. Was that all a ruse? Was he lying to her, yet again?

  Flick realized she hadn’t finished speaking, and went red. “I’m a…”

  Avery raised her eyebrows. “You’re a what, exactly?”

  Fortunately, Jonathan chose that moment to come into the room, fastening one of his cuffs as he walked. “Ah, Felicity,” he said, as if everything were normal. “Nice of you to turn up. I see you’ve met my cousin, Averina.”

  Flick raised her eyebrows. “Cousin? I thought you said you didn’t have any family.”

  “All right, you pedant. She’s a sort-of cousin. A Mercator married someone from Avery’s world, as I understand it.” He looked at Avery. “I think my great-great-uncle is your great-great-great-grandfather?”

  “Something like that.” Avery shrugged. “Back in the day,” she looked at Flick, “when the Strangeworlds Society was all over the place, in every world you can think of, they were doing more than simply exploring. Let’s just say there are more than a few of us with real blood-ties to this travel agency.”