by A. Sparrow
“Who’s this you’re talking about?” said Wendell. “That young girl? Your girlfriend’s sister?”
“Yeah.”
“I could have told you where to find her. You wanna go see her? Come on. I’ll take you.”
“Really?”
“Hop in. If we hurry we can catch the eleven o’clock ferry to Scrabster.”
***
We reached the ferry landing a few minutes late but Wendell had powers of persuasion that bordered on magical. Whether it was mere charm or some subtle form of hypnosis or the possibly the mesmerizing qualities of an immaculate, vintage Bentley, the ferry men kept the gate open until we had driven on board without any ticket or reservation.
He and Jess went up on the deck and left me alone in the back seat of the Bentley. I needed some time by myself to process what was happening.
My heart was going a hundred miles an hour but I was no longer gushing like a crybaby. Where had that come from? With all the bad shit I had been through I had never cried like that, not even when I lost my dad or my mom, or when the Fellstraw took down Karla.
What did that mean? Did I care more about me than anyone else? It didn’t used to be that way. For years, I couldn’t care less what happened to me. I would have been glad to leave this existence. But I was in a different place now, but dying just the same.
I was used to my feelings being jumbled but this was insane. First, hanging over everything was the panic over my imminent death, tinged by several measures of denial. Karla would be thrilled to hear that her sister had been found. I was thrilled, too. I had feared the worst for her, and the worst was life with that bastard of a father.
I wondered how Karla would react to the news of me getting dragged back to the Deeps, this time through the front door like everybody else. Did I even care? I kind of did, and even garnished a bit of self-pitiful glee over the prospect of seeing her reaction. Freesoul, my ass, I was going back to the realm of the Horus this time without Olivier and his will bomb to help bust me out.
Amidst this jumble, I hung onto a tiny kernel of hope that I could will myself a way to keep from dying, that the ricin wasn’t really ricin, or that my special constitution could hold the effects of the poison at bay. That little bit of hope was enough to keep me in this realm.
But that little smidgeon of optimism didn’t last very long. The first wave of nausea clamped down on my innards and went rippling all through me. Now there was no denying that the threat was real. Utter fear smacked down all other thoughts and feelings, permeating me with despair. And with despair, as always, came the roots.
Chapter 61: Flotsam
My body jerked the way it does when you’re half-asleep and get that falling sensation. The only thing was, I really was falling. I dropped like a load of bricks and slammed belly-first into the sea.
This water was so salty. It burned my eyes and lips. A million screaming neurons instantly revealed every minor cut and abrasion I never knew I had.
And I barely sank. The buoyancy out here was incredible. I bobbed right up to the surface where I gasped and gulped for air, and struggled to gain my bearings.
The ocean was mirror calm in the dim twilight of a dying afternoon. A quick spin about helped me located the long boat which remained inert and at anchor. It must have drifted slightly since I had faded, explaining why I had missed the deck.
Someone clambered atop the oarsman’s cage and peered out in my direction. I kicked to raise myself out of the water and waved both arms.
“Yo!”
“He’s over here,” said Ubaldo, and my fellow raiders came swarming to the rail. There was a loud pop and an object came flying out at me. Out of the corner of my eye it looked like a giant tethered cannonball. I flinched and ducked beneath the surface, bobbing back up to find myself within arm’s reach of a glassy green globe encased in a mesh of heavy twine in a hexagonal weave.
“Grab on! We will pull you.”
So I latched onto the glass float and found myself yanked vigorously back to the boat, like a limp swordfish that had given up the fight. As they reeled me in, I bumped up against some big. I was shocked to see a Cherub floating face down. Not only that, there was a whole train of them strung out behind the boat, carried adrift by the feeble current. Someone had been busy clearing the holds and tossing them overboard.
When I reached the hull, a jungle of hands reached down to grab me.
“We were worried this would happen,” said Olivier. “We kept a watch. Didn’t want you to drown.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” I said. “A brick would probably float in this stuff.”
I caught Karla smirking at me. She tossed me a bundle that I barely reached out in time to catch and keep it from flying overboard. They were my clothes, somehow quite a bit cleaner and fresher than I remembered.
“I told you he would come back soon,” she said. “His life is miserable without me.”
“Um. No. That’s not why—”
“Oh? You are too happy to have me out of your life?”
“Karla. I’m … I’m dying. I’ve been poisoned.”
All of the mischief went out of her face.
“What? How?”
“That’s bullshit,” Olivier.
“The Friends of Penult. They caught me. Injected me. With something. Wendell thinks it’s ricin. No antidote.”
Karla’s eyes widened. “We need to get him to the glaciers. To the mountains”
“Hang on,” said Olivier. “Nobody can poison him. He’s a Weaver. And not just any Weaver. A master. He has power over matter even in the living world.”
“So how does that help me against ricin?”
“Easy. Just turn the poison into something harmless. Say … cotton candy.”
“But how?”
“Same way you turn basketball courts and bleachers into angry monsters.”
“But … I can’t see the poison. I need to visualize stuff to change it. Otherwise, there’s no traction. Nothing for my will to work on. I have no idea what it looks like or where it is in my body. It’s probably all dissolved.”
“Visualize yourself. Just focus your will on yourself. Anything not you, you turn into cotton candy. Easy.”
“O-kay.”
“Next time you fade. That’s what you do. I don’t want to hear any of this, ‘Oh woe is me, I’m dying,’ bullshit. Okay? We’ve got a job to do. Georg, how’s that column doing?”
“Pretty much dry,” said Georg. “As far as I can tell.”
“Let us finish with the Cherubim,” said Ubaldo. “And then feed the bugs. We fly tonight.”
“What’s the deal with the Cherubs?” I said to Olivier. “Why are you guys chucking them overboard?”
“Why shouldn’t we?” said Olivier, smirking. “You’d rather we face them fully incubated and weaponized?”
“It’s just … they’re people. Maybe there’s some way we can turn them back?”
“Nah. Their souls are long gone. They’re nothing but puppets now. Killer puppets.”
I peeked down into a hold through an opening in the decking panels. The interior looked like those old shipping diagrams I’d seen of 18th century slave ships, with cherubs packed in alternating rows to pack in as many as possible. Each of their bodies were wrapped in sheets of gelatinous membrane.
“See that white stuff? It’s like a cocoon. Their bodies are being transformed into weapons. We un-wrapped a couple. It’s … disgusting, actually. Their human arms are dissolving and reconfiguring. All these cisterns of goop we are their food. The bugs seem to like it, but the shit tastes like puke.”
I looked up and caught Urszula staring right at me. Our eyes caught and held. She was looking worried.
“You need to fade again and soon,” she said. She spun on her heels and strode off down the deck.
“Yeah, well that’s cute. How about we get the raid done first?” said Olivier.
***
I wanted no part of the Cherub disposa
l detail, so I made myself scarce, wandering the decks in a daze. Karla took a break and came looking for me. She found me on the bow sprit, watching the line of Cherubim drifting off as far as the eye could see.
“It’s gonna be okay, you know,” she said, patting my arm. “You can just do what Mr. Olivier said … and even if not … even if you can’t … it’s still okay. Just … when the time comes … you need to get up to a high place.”
“So … finally looks you’re gonna get your wish.”
“Oh? What wish is that?”
“You wanted me dead. You wanted me stuck here.”
“No. I wanted us to be free. Our souls.”
“Free.”
“We’ve talked about this. You know—“
“Listen. I’ve got some good news for you. The Brynmawr ladies … they think they found Izzie.”
Karla gaped.
“What? Where?”
“She’s in Scotland, they think. They have an address. Wendell’s taking us there as we speak.”
“You’re working with Wendell? But … where exactly is she? Is she alright? Does Papa have her?”
“I don’t know. We’ll … find out. The ladies talked to Gwen.”
“But I talked to Gwen and she told me nothing.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Things change. Maybe Izzie got back in touch with her.”
Karla’s features had transformed. There was a glow in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time. She leaned forward and kissed me.
“This is so wonderful. This … changes everything.”
“How so?”
“Well. I need to see her. She needs me.”
“So … what? Are you gonna fade?”
“If I could … I would. Fuck this raid.”
“Yeah, well … I’m without on that. I’m not feeling so gung ho about it myself.”
“But this raid is important for us. You do realize that? Not me. I am not important. But for you … for us … this raid … will determine our future.”
“Oh? Are you a fortune teller now?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know what I am saying. You are the key. I am just a helper.”
“So go and fade. See if I care. What’s stopping you?”
She squinted at me. “What is wrong with you? You have never talked to me this way before. There is something different in your voice.”
“I’m fucking dying, Karla and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it! I don’t care what Olivier says.”
“Have faith,” she muttered, almost imperceptibly.
“What?” I said, even I heard her perfectly.
“Have faith … in yourself!” she shouted, before stomping off.
***
When the last of the three hundred and forty-three Cherubim had figuratively walked the gangplank, my friends went to work feeding and saddling the bugs. I had to get Urszula to help me with Tigger. That dragonfly just did not want to listen to me.
We were not a good match at all, me and him. If I ever made it back to the bog I might see if Viktor could find me a more malleable insect. And it didn’t have to be a dragonfly. The robber flies seemed pretty dumb but they were low maintenance and much easier to handle.
As I made my way over to where the bugs that were ready were being staged I stumbled across the Hashmal oarsman who we had taken captive. I was surprised to see him, half-expecting him to have been tossed overboard as well. I guess a soul did count for something in this realm.
He was wrapped all snug in a mass of netting and that special stickum that Urszula was famous for generating via her scepter.
“What will become of me?” asked the man.
“Don’t ask me. I just work here,” I said.
“Please. Kill me. Do not give me to the water. I do not wish to drown. I will take any means of death but the drowning.”
“Listen. If they haven’t drowned you already something tells me you have nothing to worry about.”
“But … they drowned all the Cherubim.”
“But you’re not a Cherub, are you?”
Ubaldo came around the side, hefting a saddle on one shoulder.
“Do not speak to the prisoner,” he said as he brushed past.
“Hey. We … we’re not going to drown him are we?”
Ubaldo paused and looked at me flatly.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s … a person.”
“So were the Cherubim before these assholes ripped their souls away.“
Ubaldo continued on bow-ward, without sparing another glance. His hornet was tethered there, ripping its mandibles into a gory meal I had no wish to see.
“You see?” said the Hashmal, his eyes wide and glossy. “He wants to drown me.”
“Is it true, what you did to the Cherubim?”
“They gave themselves to the cause. It is what we do. Sacrifice for the common good. A crusade, if you will. We seek to restore the proper order. It is our calling, we of Penult.”
“Who do you work for?”
“The Lords, of course. The Erelim.”
“And who do they work for?”
“Who do you think?”
“Tell you what,” I said in a whisper. “Just before we go, I’ll cut you mostly free. I’ll leave it so you can undo the rest on your own. It might take some time, but I’ll do enough to make sure you can wiggle out with a little bit of effort.”
“Bless you,” said the Hashmal, who looked a bit stunned by my mercy. “What is your name?”
“James.”
I found Tigger all saddled up and clinging to the side of the oarsman’s cage. Lalibela was hovering directly above the boat’s single mast. Urszula stood atop the cage, cooing at her own dragonfly to coax it down to where she could saddle it. When she saw me approach, her eyes riveted me to the deck.
“You should not be coming with us. Find someplace quiet and concentrate. Make yourself fade. Go back. Do as Olivier says. He is right. Back there you can undo the poison.”
I just shook my head. “I’ve never been able to fade on command. I don’t know how. Fades … just happen. It’s not like coming here. I can’t summon anything by making myself feel bad … or good … or whatever. It’s all random.”
“It is not random,” she said. “It is linked to your desires. how you feel about being here. It has to be.”
“Are you sure about that? Seems pretty random to me. I mean, look at Karla. She’s dying to go back and see her sister. Did she fade? Nope. She’s right over there, getting ready to hop on her robber fly.”
“People do it,” said Urszula. “When there is a need to go … and you need to go back.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t know how.”
I climbed up onto the cage and tried climbing onto Tigger’s saddle, but Tigger was clinging to the side, nearly vertical.
“Um … this is awkward. How do I get on?” I grabbed a loose strap dangling off one of the saddlebags. At least I could make sure he didn’t try and take off without me.
“You should not be accompanying us,” said Urszula. “We have the cracker. Olivier can activate it. We don’t need you.”
“Well, that’s a first. Everybody else seems to think I’m some kind of savior.”
“Please. I am telling you to go back to the mainland. Someplace secure where you can fade in peace. Some mountains preferably, just in case.”
“Are there any mountains in Penult?”
“Not really. They are hills, really. Little bumps. Very pretty, but … not sufficient. The Core is not very strong there. But definitely too strong to free a soul.”
I took a deep breath and gazed out over the glassy sea. There was just a hint of roughness and mist at the horizon that might very well be the headlands of Penult.
“Hell, you know, we’re not that far away. Maybe there’s time. Let’s just do this and get it done. If I fade, I fade. If not … so be it.”
Urszula gave me look that was a little sad and defeated and ma
ybe more than a little angry.
Chapter 62: Raiders
While we waited for Georg and Solomon to finish harnessing their beetles, I paced the deck, anxious to get going. I was pretty much in panic mode over the ricin situation, stressing over my imminent death.
Olivier made my poisoning sound so trivial, that it should be a snap to neutralize the ricin by converting it into something inert and innocuous. (I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean turning it into actual cotton candy. That was just an example.) But of course, he had also thought that it would be easy for me to reverse engineer a cracker column. Look how that turned out.
I told myself it wasn’t going to be the end of the world if I failed. Well, it maybe it would be the end of one world, but my existence would not cease. There were always other worlds, some of which I knew to be quite decent, and some of which I had yet to see, might actually turn out be even better, maybe even paradisiacal. And even the worst places like Root and the Deeps had redeeming features that made them surprisingly tolerable. This train of thought helped ease my anxiety somewhat.
Here in the Liminality, I knew I could be comfortable. The place was a pretty fair facsimile of life. My senses seemed a little bit off, everything from color, touch and odor just a little more dull, but it was way more vivid and sensual than a dream, and on the plus side that meant way less pain and discomfort. I didn’t really get hungry or tired or itchy or achy the way I did in life. Sure, it would suck big time being shut off from the world of my birth, but I could picture myself hanging out here over the long term. What burned me was that this had been Karla’s plan for me from the start. If simple fate and my own free will had brought to these circumstances I might have been more at peace with them.
And yet another thing kept gnawing at me. If the Friends of Penult wanted to keep me out of the Liminality, why the hell would they go and have me killed in the ‘real’ world? Clearly, they had tried and failed with the keeping me happy strategy. But to take me out in the living world would only serve to ship me over here permanently. Could there be poison of choice be some amped up version of ricin? Something juiced with spell craft, giving it the power to eradicate my soul in every realm, not just the one? Or was the ricin just the first phase of a three part operation? Maybe they had plans to take me out here as well as the Deeps? A triple assassination. The thought was unsettling, to say the least.
