by H. Duke
“Back so soon?” he said, then his expression grew worried. “Where’s Thaddeus?”
“You mean he’s not here?” April asked.
“No. The last I saw of him was the back of his head receding through the veil.” He closed the book, a look of concern blooming on his face. “He didn’t escape, did he?”
April shook her head. “I don’t think so. There wasn’t really time for him to. We walked through and he was gone.” She snapped her fingers to demonstrate.
“Maybe it’s because he’s had the gate inside him,” Randall guessed, but April shook her head.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I can’t say exactly how I feel so certain about it, except—”
“Pagewalker sense,” Randall and Dorian said in unison.
She nodded, wincing internally. The phrase still reminded her of Barty. “Yeah.”
Randall walked over to the book, reading the page that was open. His eyes widened.
“Uh, guys,” he said, “There are two scenes on this page. It’s a framed story. One is the scene of the two men walking—judging by the time of day I’d say that’s the one that we went into—and then there’s the nighttime scene where Mr. Hyde tramples that girl.”
“Oh, dear,” Dorian said. He looked over Randall’s shoulder. “You’re right. I didn’t notice because the ink rot was obscuring the text.”
“Wait,” April said. “So you’re saying that Thaddeus went into a different scene than us?”
Dorian nodded. “It’s happened before. Not the getting separated part, but it’s often difficult to tell which part of a narrative you’ll end up in if two different scenes share the same page.”
“How do we get him back?” April asked.
“You can try going in and seeing if it takes you to that scene,” Dorian said. “But it’s not very reliable. It could take you into the walking scene a hundred times before it takes you into the trampling scene once.”
“It’s still worth a try,” April said. She was doing her best to stay calm and collected. They didn’t have time for this.
“Before you go,” Dorian said, his brow furrowing, “There’s something else. I’ve counted all the books that need immediate attention. There’s two dozen of them.”
“Two dozen?” April gasped. She knew that it was bad, she just hadn’t thought it would be that bad.
Dorian nodded. “Two dozen books that will go black within the week—at most—if they are not dealt with.”
April shook her head. “I can’t erase that much ink rot in one night. It would kill me.” She shook her head, trying to blink back the tears. “What do I tell Gram?”
“Hold up,” Randall said. “You can’t let this ruin your trip. We’ll do the best we can tonight, and then you’ll transfer the Pagewalker duties to me. I’ll take care of the rest, just like we planned.”
April shook her head. “You’re not strong enough. It could kill you.”
“You could—” Dorian started, but April cut him off, knowing what he was going to say.
“I’m not risking that many worlds for the sake of a vacation. I’ll… I’ll figure out what to tell Gram. Right now, let’s find Thaddeus so we can get ahead of this thing before it gets really bad.”
And when we do, I’m going to wring his pompous neck, April thought, then shook the ugly image from her mind. It wasn’t Thaddeus’ fault that they’d been separated. Twelve of the books were in danger of going black whether he was here or not.
She waited for either of them to argue with her. Neither of them did. There wasn’t anything else to say.
She walked back over to the gate. “There’s nothing we can do to get it to take us to the scene that Thaddeus’ in?”
Dorian shook his head. “At least as far as I’m aware. You can only walk through and hope it takes you where you want to go.”
She considered the scene on the other side of the gate. It showed the street corner they’d visited earlier. The building she’d erased the ink rot from practically shone in stark contrast with the ones that still had rot clinging to them. It didn’t seem like a good sign, but they had to try.
She grasped Randall’s hand. “To keep us from getting separated,” she explained.
Randall frowned. “I don’t know how much good it would do,” he said. “I was holding onto Thaddeus’ shirt the first time. But just in case…” he reached down and grasped Rex’s collar. “Can’t have you getting lost, too,” Randall said to the dog.
They walked forward. As soon as they cleared the veil, April checked to make sure Randall and Rex were still with her. Then she examined her surroundings, unsurprised to see that they were still in front of the clean building.
“Damn,” she said, and they went back into the library. They stepped through the gate a half-dozen more times, but it was the same every time.
“We can’t keep doing this,” April said. “It’s wasting time. We have to deal with the ink rot.”
“We can’t just leave him in there, though,” Randall said. Was he actually worried for Thaddeus’ well-being?
“I imagine he’ll come back on his own,” Dorian said. “It’s what any intelligent person would do.”
“Unless he’s having an episode,” Randall muttered.
April thought for a moment. “Why hasn’t he come back yet? Wouldn’t he turn around right away, the moment he realized he was alone?” He seemed so afraid of the gate. She doubted that he would want to remain on the other side of it by himself for very long.
“It’s possible that the scene he’s in moves slower than the one you guys went into. It might be only a few seconds for him.”
The time-differential could explain why Thaddeus hadn’t come back yet, but what if he was having an episode over there?
She shook the thought away. “Even if there’s a reason that he hasn’t come back yet besides the time-differential, there’s no way for us to get to him.”
“What are you proposing?” Randall said.
“We’ll work on eradicating the rest of the rot from the scene we were already in. That way, whenever Thaddeus realizes we’re not there with him, the gate will be open for him. Hopefully he comes back before we do.”
“And if he’s having an episode?” Randall asked.
“Then there’s nothing we can do. We might as well be productive while we wait.”
Randall nodded, but he still looked uneasy. “Let’s go.”
They stepped back through the veil and onto the daytime London street.
~~~
Thaddeus clutched Malloria to his chest, running down the alleyway away from the mob. Was it just him, or did every person he passed turn towards him? Why did they all have that same hollow-eyed look? Maybe that was just how book characters were.
Maybe father was right after all. Maybe they’re not real people.
Thaddeus finally found a small alcove with no occupants. He set the girl down in a corner and started to pace.
“I want my mummy,” the girl cried. “Why was she acting like that?”
Thaddeus looked up at the girl. “She doesn’t act like that, normally?”
The girl shook her head, crying harder. “Mummy loves me. She tells me every day.”
“Shh,” Thaddeus said, trying to quiet her. “It will all be okay, Malloria. I promise.”
She cried even harder. “Why do you keep calling me that? It’s not my name!”
Thaddeus felt his eyes widen. “I… she was someone I met, once. Sorry. What’s your name?”
Her crying quieted slightly. “Sara.”
“And how old are you, Sara?”
“Seven.”
“That’s a nice age,” Thaddeus said. “Sara, I promise everything will be all right. But you need to answer a few questions for me, okay? Can you do that?”
Sara nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Good girl,” Thaddeus said. “Do you know why your family wanted to put you back in the road? That man was coming back towards you. You c
ould have gotten run over, or—”
She shook her head, her face crumpling. Damn. He wasn’t used to talking to kids. He needed to be nicer. He didn’t want to scare her more than he already had.
When he spoke again, he made his voice as gentle as possible. “Do you know who that man was?”
She shook her head. “No. But I’ve seen him around before. He’s always going in and out of Dr. Jekyll’s house. He’s scary.”
She started to cry again, and Thaddeus said, “Shh, I won’t let him hurt you, okay?”
“Do you promise?”
Thaddeus answered without thinking. “Yes, of course. I’ll protect you. But you have to be brave. Can you do that?”
She nodded, a resoluteness forming in her eyes.
“Good.”
Just as Thaddeus was trying to figure out what to do next, he heard footsteps approaching them. He looked down the alley. Coming from the opposite direction—not the way they’d come from—was a group of people. They all had that empty-eyed look.
Thaddeus thought it was a procession of some kind, either a party or maybe a funeral, but they weren’t carrying a body. They were chanting something, and Thaddeus couldn’t figure out what it was at first. When he did, a shiver moved down his spine.
“Put her back,” the people of the crowd yelled one after the other. “Put her back in the street where she belongs! She plays a part!”
Sara began to cry again. “How do they know that?” she said. “They’re coming from a different direction! They weren’t there!”
“I don’t know,” he said, “But we have to go. Come on.” He lifted her in his arms again, and they ran back the way they came.
After they’d run for five or ten minutes, Sara pointed to a building. “That’s my house. Won’t you please take me there?”
“I can’t do that,” Thaddeus said.
“But I want to go home! I want my mummy!”
“Don’t you understand?” Thaddeus growled. “If you go back, they’ll just put you back in the street again, where that scary man will come back and get you! Do you want the scary man to get you?”
“No!” she said, bawling outright. Thaddeus felt a pang of guilt, but he had to make her understand that this was for her own good.
Officer Powers stood near the intersection. The web of dark ink rot on his face seemed to have progressed, now consuming the entirety of one cheekbone, threatening to cover his eye.
The people behind him pushed him forward. “Do you job!”
Officer Powers stepped towards them reluctantly. “I command you t-to st-st-stop! The girl must be returned t-to her place at once!”
Officer Powers began to run towards them again, a growing mob of zombies on his heel. Thaddeus looked around, seeing a door in the side of the building. It looked to be some sort of dry-goods store. The windows were dark. As good a place to hide as any.
He kicked in the door. Sara cried out at the sound of crunching wood. She buried her head in his neck.
Inside everything was still, except for Sara’s whimpers.
“Shh,” he said. “We have to be quiet now, okay?”
She nodded, and he could sense her holding her breath, but her little body still jerked with her silent sobs.
This reminded him of Malloria, but he shook the thought away. He had to stay grounded.
At first, he thought they’d escaped, but then the glow of lanterns began gathering outside the windows and the open door. Voices began to demand that he put the girl back where she “belonged.”
He nearly laughed. Couldn’t they think of something new to say?
One lantern moved out in front of the rest, the light inside swinging as though its holder had been pushed forward. Thaddeus recognized Officer Powers’ uniform. For a second he thought Officer Powers was looking right at him, but he reminded himself that they were in complete darkness. Invisible.
“Get him,” the crowd hissed. “Do your job!”
“You’re surrounded,” Officer Powers said. His voice trembled. “We have no quarrel with you. Bring the girl back so that she might p-p-play her p-p-part in this story, and we will allow you t-t-to go back through your little door unharmed.”
The door? He must mean the portal. Thaddeus craned his neck, looking over Officer Powers’ head. He could just make out the residential doorway where the gate was hidden on the opposite side of the street. If they could get to it, they’d be able to escape.
Officer Powers continued speaking. “If you refuse t-to give us the girl, we will t-t-take her, and we will throw your mangled body back through.”
Sara whimpered. “Don’t let them take me!” she said. “You promised!”
“I know,” Thaddeus said, his mind racing. “But you need to help me, okay? You know this place better than I do.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“All right. Do you recognize this building?”
She nodded. “It’s Hamburg’s Dry Grocery. Mummy buys flour here every week.”
“Good, that’s good,” Thaddeus said, trying to be encouraging, though he kept an eye on the mob outside. They shuffled closer, crowding around the door. Thaddeus hoped to God it wasn’t the only exit.
“Is there any other door out of this place?”
She shook her head. “That’s the only one. Is that bad?” two giant tears formed in the corners of her eyes, glinting in the torchlight.
“No, no, it’s fine,” he said. If she started to cry in earnest, it would give their location away. “We just need to find another way out of the building. Are there any windows?”
“Only those ones,” she said, pointing to the windows facing out into the mob.
“Damn it,” Thaddeus said. “Think, Sara—is there anything else? Any other way out?”
“There’s a grain chute,” she said. “Mr. Hamburg showed me once. They use it to pour the grain in from the outside, the stuff that’s not delivered in bags.”
“Perfect,” Thaddeus said. Maybe they could get out of this yet. “Where is it?”
“It’s on the side of the building facing the alley.”
Thaddeus followed the girl’s instructions, careful not to knock over any barrels or other merchandise in the store. He had an inkling the mob would charge in at the first noise that might help them pinpoint his and the girl’s location. Not that it mattered much; they seemed about to storm the place regardless.
“This is your last chance,” Officer Powers shouted. “B-bring the girl out now or face the c-c-c… c-c-c… c-consequences!”
“Here it is,” the girl said.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness. A large iron chute was built into the wall. Thaddeus had hoped he might be able to remove it entirely for an easier escape, but it was bolted in and he didn’t have the proper tools to remove the bolts. They’d have to shimmy up the chute. It would be an easy fit for the girl, and a tight-squeeze for him at best. Hopefully it wouldn’t narrow out at the top. At least the metal’s not completely smooth, he thought to himself. It had the same rough texture of a cast iron skillet.
“We’re going to have to climb out,” he said. “You first.”
“How do I do it?” she said, looking at the chute doubtfully. “There’s nothing to grab onto.”
“Take your shoes off.”
She did as he said, sticking them into a hidden pocket on the side of her dress.
He crouched down so that they were at eye level. “You need to place both your hands on either side of the metal, okay? Press out. You’ll hold yourself up, trust me. Come on, I’ll talk you through it.”
She looked unsure but allowed him to lift her up into the chute.
“I can’t lift you any further,” Thaddeus said. “You’re going to have to hold yourself up. Put your hands on either side—perfect—and now your feet…”
“I’m doing it!” she said, she looked down at him, her eyes two large orbs. “I’m like a spider!”
“Right, good job,” Thaddeus said. He could hear the
mob entering the store on the other side of the door. “Now, hold your weight with your hands, and then lift your feet up higher. Then hold your weight with your feet and move your hands. Got it?”
The sounds of shuffling echoed through the tube. “I got it,” she said, then more doubtfully, “I don’t know how you’re going to fit, though.”
Thaddeus wasn’t looking forward to it, but he’d done his fair share of spelunking during some of his earliest missions with the Agency. He’d never been a fan of tight spaces, but he’d learned to shimmy through channels smaller than this one—and those had been lined with jagged rocks.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ll meet you on the other side. As soon as you get out, hide. Don’t come out until you see me.”
“Okay,” she said, grunting.
He heard barrels being turned over on the other side of the door. He needed to buy himself some time. He grabbed one of the barrels half-filled with dried beans and rocked it over it until it blocked the door. It would take them a while to get past that, at least.
He moved back towards the chute. “Sara?”
No answer. She must have made it out and hidden like he’d told her to.
Good girl, he thought, and with no time to parse out the sense of pride he felt, he positioned himself at the bottom of the iron tube.
“C-c-come out at once!” Officer Power’s voice emanated through the d-door, which banged back and forth against the barrel. “This is your last chance!”
Thaddeus winced as something struck the door. From the sharp, exact way the door bowed in, it was an axe. He had less time than he’d anticipated. Damn.
He hoisted himself up, then began to shimmy. For a moment he thought he’d become stuck, and panic filled his senses. But then he remembered his spelunking training. Rule number one was to not panic. He remembered the words of one of his instructors.
If you got in, you can get out. The saying was meant for going back the way you came, but if he was right about the chute being wider at the top, it applied here as well.
He concentrated on making small movements, inches at a time. Finally, after what felt like ten minutes, he felt extra space above his head—the chute was widening out. Thank God…
