“He’s here? Alexander is here?” Vigo didn’t want to admit, even to himself, the cold feeling that gnawed at him. It was one he was not accustomed to, and it was one he despised himself for having.
He rather thought it was fear.
I looked up from the page, my mind racing. “We have to warn Elizabeth Howard.”
“Yes.”
“I just hope she’ll listen to us.”
“Take heart, Amy. I have every confidence that —”
His gaze flickered to the window. Katie and Luisa stood outside the room, giggling.
I motioned for them to come in.
“Are you going to introduce us to your fiancé?” Katie asked as they walked in.
Alexander got out of his chair and bowed.
Their eyebrows went up.
“I’m Katie.” She shook his hand.
Luisa did, too. “Luisa.”
“Delighted.”
There was a tense silence.
Finally Katie said, “So how do you guys know each other?”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I hadn’t expected Alexander to show up at school, so I hadn’t thought up an explanation.
“We met in the park over the weekend,” Alexander said smoothly, “while I was taking a stroll.”
I knew he was trying to help, but I wished he wouldn’t. Maybe meeting on a stroll in the park was common in Otherworld, but not here.
“Oh, yeah?” Luisa grinned. “Is that when you got engaged?”
Before Alexander could say something weird, I answered, “Alexander has a quirky sense of humor. The office staff didn’t get the joke.” I turned to him. “Thanks for stopping by. It was good to see you.”
“And you.” Taking the hint, he inclined his head to my friends, and left.
They held their hands over their mouths until he was out of range, then burst out laughing.
“What was that about, Ames?” Luisa cried. “You didn’t tell me you met a guy! He’s gorgeous — total Alexander Banks look-alike! How old is he?”
“Eighteen.” And would be nineteen on December 2, I didn’t add. “I’m not dating him. We’re getting to know each other as friends.”
Katie frowned. “You’ve gotta be careful. Did he really just come up to you in the park?”
“No, he was just joking about that.” The lie jumped into my head a second later. “He’s a friend of my cousin, Dave.”
“Oh, cool,” Katie said. “It’s strange that he’s already stopping by your school, though, isn’t it? Maybe he’s a stalker.”
Luisa snorted. “A guy that good-looking can’t be a stalker. Girls should be stalking him. It’s neat that his name’s Alexander, don’t you think? Just like Alexander Banks? Maybe it’s destiny.”
Fortunately, the bell rang, saving me from my friends’ interrogation. For now, anyway.
As we walked toward the library doors, Ms. P. said, “Amy.”
Her tone stopped me in my tracks. “See you guys later.” My friends kept going, and I turned back to Ms. P.
“We need to talk,” she said, with a seriousness that made me wonder what kind of trouble I was in. “Which teacher do you have now?”
“Mr. Feigel. Geometry.”
“I need a word with you. I’ll tell Feigel that you’re helping me and you’ll be late for class.”
As she made the phone call, I racked my brain. Why would she hold me back from going to class? This wasn’t like her.
When she got off the phone, she led me into her office behind the checkout desk and closed the glass door behind us.
“I know who he is.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” I stuttered.
“I’ll show you something. Please, don’t take it personally. We do it for safety reasons.” She sat down and rolled her chair up to the desk. The Chicago Board of Education website was open on the screen. She closed it and clicked on an icon called S ECURITY. It opened up a folder with several options: HALLWAY #1, HALLWAY #2, CENTRAL FOYER … all the way to STUDY ROOM #4.
No way. This couldn’t be happening.
She clicked on STUDY ROOM #4 and the screen filled with a black-and-white image of the room. There was a faint buzzing sound, indicating that there was audio.
She pushed back from the computer and swiveled her chair to face me. “I’m sorry I invaded your privacy, Amy. But there was something different about that young man, and I wanted to hear the first bit of your conversation to make sure things were okay in there. I heard everything.”
What could I say? She must think I was involved in some crazy role-playing fantasy.
“You’re really convinced he’s Alexander Banks, aren’t you?” Ms. P. asked.
“I know he is.”
“I’ll admit that the moment I saw him, I thought of Alexander’s picture on the book cover.” She took off her glasses, folded them, and put them on the table beside her. “What proof did he give you that he’s Alexander?”
I was momentarily fazed. Was she humoring me, or was she actually taking this seriously? “He has Alexander’s scars, including the one on his tongue. It looks like someone tried to cut his tongue off, and it’s not the type of thing you can fake. And there’s something else. Friday night, when I got off the bus, I was attacked. Alexander saved my life. It was Vigo who attacked me.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. She looked horrified — too horrified to be humoring me. I should be glad that she believed me, but I wasn’t. What I wanted was to hear her explain why none of this was real. Why Vigo couldn’t possibly be here in Chicago killing innocent people.
“How do you know it was Vigo?”
“I caught a glimpse of his hair. And he made this strange growling sound. It had to be a vampire, because I got carried across the park in a second or two.” It felt like the words were coming from somewhere else, a calm place outside of myself where I could talk about the attack without freaking out.
Ms. P. frowned. “And those two boys who were killed — that was Vigo.” It was more a statement than a question.
“Yes. Alexander knows for a fact that Vigo is here. He chased him across the Michigan Avenue Bridge, and they ended up in our Chicago.” I held my breath, still hoping that Ms. P. would say something to explain all of this away.
She was silent for a long time. “I told you that I did some graduate work, didn’t I?”
I was startled by the change of topic. “You got a master’s in physics.”
“I might not have told you that I actually spent four years working on a PhD, but was asked to leave the program.”
“No, you didn’t mention that.”
“I was asked to leave because my studies took me into an area of research that academia wasn’t ready for. An area that I wasn’t ready for, but one that compelled me, nonetheless: literary physics.”
“Literary physics?”
“That’s what I called it. I started out studying string theory, which is widely respected. String theory tells us that several dimensions coexist simultaneously. And I asked myself if it were possible for someone in our dimension to tap into what’s going on in another one. Then I realized that it may, in fact, already be happening — in our literature.”
I was trying hard to follow her. “Wait a second. You’re saying that books are showing us what’s going on in different dimensions? They’re not really fiction?”
“Not all books. Very few, most likely. But haven’t you read books that are labeled fiction, but have characters so real that you wondered if they might exist?”
“That’s how Otherworld made me feel. That’s how it made everyone feel.”
“Exactly.”
There was a noise outside, and we glanced toward the library doors. A harried teacher came in, corralling her students and barking at them to keep their voices down.
“Unfortunately, I have a library lesson this period,” Ms. P. said, putting her glasses back on. “We’ll continue this later. Can you and Alexander come over for dinner tonight?”
�
�I think so,” I managed to reply.
Although I was dying to know more, I stood up. It would be better to continue the discussion with Alexander there, anyway.
Literary physics. It sounded crazy, but I knew Ms. P., and she was anything but.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
A FEW MINUTES BEFORE sunset, I knocked on the door to the den.
“Enter,” he called.
I found Alexander sitting on the couch, already dressed and pulling on his socks. He tidied his hair with several well-placed rakes of his hand.
“You’re up already?”
“I’ve trained my body to wake like clockwork at sunset.”
“I hope you slept well.”
He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Well enough.”
I knew that Alexander was plagued by nightmares, and I’d bet he had just had one.
“On Sunday, I had a nightmare about vampires on my fire escape,” I said, sitting down next to him. “In the dream, I actually let them in.”
“The world of dreams is troubling that way.” A haunted look flashed in his eyes. “You have no control.”
He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t push him.
“Ms. Parker, the school librarian I introduced you to, knows who you are,” I told him. “She overheard us. Turns out there are cameras and audio in the study room. Creepy, I know. Like 1984.”
“What happened in nineteen eighty-four?”
I kept forgetting there was so much Alexander didn’t know. “It’s the title of a book I read in English class last year. It’s about the government using technology to watch everything people do.”
“You don’t think you are in the book 1984, do you, Amy?”
“No! You’re the one from a book, not me.”
“I was teasing you.” A smile flashed across his handsome face.
“Oh.” In the books, Alexander had only joked with his cousin James, and that was rare enough. “I guess I’m a little too on edge to get a joke. The whole situation scares me,” I confessed.
“Good. Fear is a useful emotion for most people. It can save your life. Remember that.”
“What about you? Is it a useful emotion for you?”
“Fear only saves your life if you’re willing to run from your enemy.” The haunted look returned to his eyes. “I ran from Vigo once, and I will never do so again.”
“You were six years old.”
“Yes. Logically I know that I was too young to do anything else.”
Logically. But I bet that, deep down, Alexander still wondered if there was something he could have done to save his family.
His despair was palpable, and I was tempted to reach over and touch his hand, but I held back.
“You were saying, about the librarian knowing who I am,” he prompted.
“Right. I told her what happened, and she believed me. It turns out she always thought something like this was possible.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. And she can help us make sense of it. We’re going to her place for dinner. She’s picking us up at seven.” When I’d told Mom that Alexander and I were going to Ms. P.’s for dinner, she was pleased. She must have thought that Ms. P.'s good influence would lead Alexander to pursue college or something.
“All right, but I cannot stay long. My duty is to find Vigo before he kills again.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep the visit short. You need to eat, anyway.”
“Very well. I will defer to you on this occasion.”
I had to smile. Alexander Banks deferring to me? Who’d have thought?
Fifteen minutes later, Ms. P. pulled up in her blue Honda Civic. I got into the front seat, and Alexander got into the back. “Nice to see you again, Alexander,” Ms. P. said, turning onto the road.
“Likewise, Ms. Parker.”
“Amy tells me you’ve come to us from Otherworld Chicago.” She used the same conversational tone you’d expect from someone asking about your day.
“It seems so,” he replied. “We don’t call it Otherworld, but it is indeed the place depicted in the books.”
“Do you find the books accurate, then, in their portrayal of your world and its people?”
“Mostly, yes.”
“Mostly?” I turned back to look at him, not knowing what he was talking about.
“Elizabeth Howard’s reports on events in my world are undoubtedly true. But she makes some character judgments that I do not agree with.”
“Are you referring to the way she portrays you?” Ms. P. asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.
“Yes.” He shifted slightly in his seat, a clue that he was uncomfortable with the topic. “Although she does not say it outright, she clearly paints my character as misguided. A troubled soul bent on revenge. And, if you really want to know, I despise the way she portrays the courtship between my cousin James and that thing, Hannah. She describes it with such …”
“Understanding?” Ms. P. offered.
“Precisely! She obviously wants the reader to cheer for them. And she makes Hannah sound like — like a normal person.”
“Just because she’s a vampire doesn’t mean she’s evil, right?” I said. “There are some vampires who are working for peace.”
Alexander scoffed. “The vast majority of them would sooner drink your blood than work for peace.”
“Do you have any idea how Elizabeth Howard knows so much about your world, Alexander?” Ms. P. asked.
“No. Amy said you have some ideas on what is happening.”
“I do.” She drove into her driveway. “See? Here already. Let’s get a bite to eat and talk more.”
We followed her inside. Ms. P.’s home was as charming and warm as she was. I’d been here a few times before, since she had Katie, Luisa, and me over for dinner whenever we stayed late to help with the library inventory.
After getting us glasses of lemonade, she put a roast chicken on the table, along with a bowl of mashed potatoes with carrots. “Dig in.”
We passed the food around, loading up our plates. Once we were all a few bites in, Ms. P. said, “Tell me, do either of you know anything about quantum physics?”
We shook our heads.
“Quantum physics was my area of study back in graduate school.” Ms. P. toyed with her potatoes to let the steam out. “It’s the area of physics that studies the most fundamental level of existence — the quantum level. According to quantum theory, it is impossible to measure both the position and direction of any given particle.”
The idea sounded familiar. “I heard something about that in physics class.” Unfortunately, I didn’t always pay attention.
“I believe that particles are, in fact, ‘jumping worlds’; that is to say, subatomic particles are actually jumping back and forth between universes — or dimensions, if you’d prefer.”
It was strange to hear Ms. P. talking this way. I knew she was really smart, but all this quantum physics was over my head.
“Wait a minute,” Alexander said, holding up his hand to slow her down. “By dimensions, you mean two worlds unfolding simultaneously?”
“Yes.” Ms. P. pushed up her glasses. “The number of dimensions out there is infinite. And because particles are jumping from one universe to another, many of these dimensions are remarkably similar to our own. But in your dimension, Alexander, there are vampires, and in ours there are not.”
“The theory is plausible, but can you explain why Elizabeth Howard knows what is going on in my dimension?” Alexander asked. “Do you think she has found a way to travel between dimensions?”
Ms. P shook her head. “I doubt that. I think some people are able to tap into parallel dimensions and write about them, often without knowing they are doing so. That is the essence of literary physics.”
Alexander frowned. “You’re saying that Elizabeth Howard thinks she’s making my world up, but is really just seeing it?”
“Exactly. Other authors are potentially doing the same.”
I tried to grasp this. So Elizabeth Howard didn’t realize what she was doing? I couldn’t wait until we could ask her in person.
“How is it possible that I crossed into this world?” Alexander asked.
Ms. P. took a sip of lemonade, looking thoughtful. “I would guess you were able to cross over in much the same way as subatomic particles. There must be a portal somewhere. The magnetic field of the portal kept your molecular structure intact. It’s really quite amazing. Do you remember feeling an electrical surge when you were chasing Vigo across the bridge?”
“I don’t think so, but I was full of adrenaline.”
“If you retrace your steps, you might be able to find it again. I’ll see if I can get my hands on a magnetic sensor for you. I still have some friends in the lab at U. of C. The sensor should help you locate it, if it’s still there.”
“We’re worried that Vigo might go after Elizabeth Howard,” I told her. “She’s revealed things about him that he wouldn’t want anyone to know.”
Ms. P. nodded gravely. “I hadn’t thought of that. Even if he weren’t angered by the books, there’s a chance he’ll try to track her down, thinking she knows a way back to Otherworld.”
“She has a book signing in New York City on Saturday, and we’re going to try to talk to her,” I said.
“Good idea. I’ll drive you. And if we’re able to talk to her, I’ll do what I can to lend some credibility to your story.”
“Once she sees me, she will have all of the proof she needs,” Alexander said.
But I wasn’t so sure.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
THE NEXT MORNING, I stopped into the library before my first class. Ms. Finley, the art teacher, was standing in Ms. P.’s spot.
“Is she okay?” I asked, alarmed.
Ms. Finley smiled, obviously touched by my concern. “She’s under the weather today. She said she’ll probably be back tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” As I headed to my first class, I realized I should’ve expected that Ms. P. would take the day off. She must have been helping Alexander strategize. Last night, she’d offered her spare room and any resources she had to help him track down Vigo. I was relieved that he was going to stay with her. First of all, it would get Mom to stop asking so many questions about Alexander — I could tell her he’d found a place to stay. Plus, with all her knowledge, Ms. P. would be of more help to Alexander than I could ever be. Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t miss waking up and finding Alexander Banks in my home.
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