by Kaleb Nation
“Escrow!” it shrieked suddenly, in the loudest, shrillest of voices, making Bran jump.
“Quiet down,” Gary ordered, pouring the water. “He’s an honored guest.”
“Unwelcome!” it said, louder. “Unwelcome here!”
It spread its wings and flapped at Bran, as if to shoo him away.
“Hush, Escrow!” Gary hissed, waving his hand. “He has an invitation.”
“Lies!” Escrow screamed. “Salty, salty lies!”
Escrow went on mumbling to himself and glaring at Bran, turning disgustedly until he was facing the window.
“Here, have something,” Gary said, returning with the cups. “You’ve probably been traveling a while, I suppose?”
“I have,” Bran said, drinking it down. “It’s been a long trip.”
“Hopefully I can make it worth your time,” Gary said. “I haven’t had visitors in a very long while. Even my sister…you know, I have no contact with the outside. The fact that she would send you here, of all places, still confuses me.”
“She said you could help me,” Bran said. “That you were the only person who might know how to find the door this key goes to.”
“Well, I do know a thing or two about keys,” Gary said, and for the first time he gave a smile, though it was wry, and he seemed to be amused at something entirely different. Bran drew out the key and placed it gently onto the desk between them, and Gary’s smile disappeared.
“Oh,” he said. “This key.”
He seemed to say it as if he recognized the key, which was very surprising as it had been locked in the bank vault for years. He figured that Gary had seen so many keys in his life that he had to have come across one like it before.
“Do you mind if I…?” Gary said, reaching forward.
“Wait, I wouldn’t—” Bran tried to warn him, but Gary had already touched the key, which spit out a green shock.
“As I expected,” Gary said, unfazed. “Very smart. Can you hand it to me then?”
“What?” Bran said, blinking.
“Just give it to me,” Gary said. Bran did as he was told and cautiously held the key out, and Gary reached forward and took it right out of his hand.
“It didn’t hurt you,” Bran said.
“Of course,” Gary replied, turned the key over in his hands and studying the markings on its side. “It’s enchanted, so that it can only be given from one person to another willingly. If I had forced you at gunpoint for example, it wouldn’t have worked. It’s quite a magnificent safeguard. And it means your mother obviously intended it to go to you next, since she left it with you in the bank vault, and it doesn’t hurt you when you touch it.”
“How do you know about the bank vault?” Bran asked. Gary said nothing in reply. He examined the gem in the handle and kept turning it over. Bran felt a strange nervousness now that he wasn’t holding the key, as if there were danger in simply giving it to Gary. Gary put his mind to rest the next moment, however, when he passed it back.
“Fascinating,” was all Gary would say. “But I still don’t understand why you have come to me. It is very old. Finding the door to that key could be unwise—and could open something anew that is best left closed.”
Bran then began to tell Gary exactly why he had come there. Gary seemed fixated on the bank vault and had Bran return to it many times, asking him about his past. He was very curious about the wooden box itself, which was very strange, but when Bran told him about Astara, Gary’s eyes filled with tears.
“You poor boy,” Gary said, interrupting him. “I’m so sorry you lost her.”
“But I know she’s got to be alive,” Bran said. “She’s trying to tell me something. But I don’t even know where to begin, and I think finding the door to this key is the start.”
“I don’t think you want to find the door to this key, Bran,” Gary replied. His words took Bran by surprise.
“No, I do,” Bran insisted. “I’ve got to. I’ve come all this way—I have to find her.”
“She could very well be gone, Bran.” Gary shook his head. “This is dark magic, and a lot of it. You could get drawn into it just like she was.”
“I don’t really care now,” Bran said forcefully. “I’ve already made my choice. I want to get her back.”
Gary sighed. “Sometimes, Bran, it’s better to just let her go.”
“But I’m not going to,” Bran said. He couldn’t believe he was actually arguing this point with a man he had just met.
“I don’t understand,” Bran said. “Adi told me you could help. All I need is for you to tell me the door this key goes to, and I’ll be on my way. You’ll never have to see me again.”
Gary seemed to ponder this, folding his hands and looking across the desk at the key. His expression then turned darker, almost as if he had become angered and offended by some thought, and he sat up straighter.
“All right then,” Gary said gruffly. “I’ll do my part, and then you’re on your way, and I never have to see you again.”
“It’s a deal,” Bran said, arising. Gary’s face returned to the stony, emotionless expression it had before as he pushed past Bran roughly, as if eager to be rid of him. Gary unlocked a door opposite the fireplace, and it opened to a thin hallway. Bran and Nim followed him through.
The hallway sloped up a bit and ended in a circular room far smaller than the office. It had no windows and was littered around the edges with bits of machinery and trash. When Gary moved out of the way, Bran saw that sitting in the center of this room was a strange device. It appeared to be a solid, red wooden door. It was just sitting there, held in a metal frame, as if it was waiting to be installed. Beside it was a solid pedestal with wires running back and forth from the door to it and a clear bowl of water on top.
“As keys are my obsession,” Gary said, “I have created a great many inventions involving them. I assume this is the one my sister has sent you to make use of.”
He touched the door. “This device is my Revdoora—the only one in the world, and its deeper workings are many years older than you or this house. If anyone else was in possession of this device, the powers that be would demand it be removed and placed in some Mages Council vault. But as those powers have a very wise fear of me, it has been let alone for my own purposes.”
“What does it do?” Bran asked.
“Observe,” Gary said, drawing an ordinary house key from the pedestal and placing it into the bowl of water, where it sank to the bottom. He then reached forward and pulled the door open. To Bran’s surprise, the door opened to the entryway of a house he did not recognize. It was dark beyond the door, but he could see stairs and furniture and toys on the floor. He couldn’t resist taking a step closer, but before he could do anything, Gary slammed the door shut again.
“You see, Bran,” Gary said, “this device will turn this door into the entrance that the key belongs to. In this case,” he pulled the key from the bowl of water, “it’s the house of some family somewhere in the north, if I remember correctly. If I was to put a car key in, I’d step into someone’s car. If I was to put in the key to the Morkhoml Bank Vault, I could be a very rich and untraceable villain.”
“That is incredible,” Bran stammered. Gary gestured toward the bowl.
“Just put your key in there, and you’re off,” he said impatiently. Bran didn’t see a reason to waste any more time, so he dropped the key into the bowl and stepped back. His heart began to beat faster as he realized how close he was to finding Astara again. He rubbed his hands together nervously.
“Go on,” Gary pressed, waving his hand at the door.
“It was nice meeting you, and thank you,” Bran said, but Gary only nodded again, so Bran took a deep breath and reached for the handle. He hesitated and then pulled on the door.
A shattering explosion threw Bran back off his feet. It erupted in his e
ars and crawled up and down skin, filling his vision with green light until he was blinded by it. The noise was so loud that his eardrums popped, and he felt his head strike against the wall, and all went black.
Chapter 23
Escrow and the Letter
When Bran awoke, he couldn’t remember how he had gotten into a bed, and his vision was so hazy that he wasn’t able to tell where he was. He turned his head and blinked and was able to make out that he was in a small bedroom with furniture against the walls and a window that had thick curtains over it. The room was oddly shaped, every corner angled and crooked, and even when Bran blinked his eyes to make sure it wasn’t an effect of the explosion, it still appeared crooked.
Bran tried to sit up, but an overwhelming pain burst from his left hand, and he lay back against the pillows. He winced and saw that his hand was entirely wrapped up in gauze.
“What?” he said with dismay, trying to move it but finding that even the slightest motion sent a fiery pain all through his wrist and arm. He slowly pushed himself up with his legs, which were under the heavy gray bed sheets. There was no television or telephone to be seen, and Bran became more and more uneasy.
He heard a noise outside the door, and Gary poked his head in.
“Good, you’re awake now,” he said, nodding in Bran’s direction.
“How long have I been asleep?” Bran asked.
“Many hours, I would expect,” Gary replied, entering and moving toward Bran’s bedside. “I haven’t really kept track. Hit your head pretty hard in there.”
“What happened?” Bran asked with horror. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Gary shook his head, with a hint of disgust. “Unless nearly destroying my device counts as something wrong. Then yes, you did.”
He glared at Bran. “Your key blasted the device into pieces, and I barely made it out of that room without injuries myself!”
Bran was left in shock, unable to even speak an apology, but then Gary’s expression reversed, and he began to laugh loudly.
“Oh come on, Bran, it’s only old machinery,” Gary said. “What’s important is you’re alive, and I’ve discovered my device isn’t quite as perfect as it seemed. I think what I need now is to begin work immediately on repairs for Revdoora version 2.0.”
He laughed and then pushed something at Bran. “Drink this.”
Bran swallowed it, though he was still confused at how happy Gary seemed.
“I am sorry, though,” Bran said.
“Don’t worry!” Gary laughed. “It might be a good thing you’ve got to stay with me a few extra days, on account of you being hurt.”
He leaned over the bed to look closer at Bran’s injured hand. “You hurt that side the worst I would say. Can’t tell if it’s broken or what, but it wasn’t in good shape.”
“I can’t move it,” Bran said, wincing again as he tried to. “You don’t have a doctor I could go see? That might be best.”
Gary shook his head. “Not down here I don’t. And I don’t think you’re in much condition to make it all the way back to the mainland by yourself.”
“You don’t have a way of getting me there?” Bran asked.
“Unfortunately,” Gary replied, “I cannot leave this house for any reason. You would be on your own.”
“But—” Bran protested, struggling to get his legs free of the sheets. “What about Astara? I’ve got to find the door to that key somehow!”
“Well, be patient,” Gary said. “You can’t go anywhere in that condition—and no matter how great your magic powers may be, I know for certain that an untrained mage such as you attempting to heal that injury will almost assuredly make it worse.”
“But I can’t stay here!” Bran said with desperation. “I have to go. I’m wasting time just lying here in bed!”
At hearing those words, Gary looked hurt.
“Well…” Gary began, but he couldn’t finish what he was going to say.
“I mean, it’s just important I help Astara,” Bran said, trying to calm himself. “Nothing against you.”
“I-I understand,” Gary stammered. “But…you’re hurt, and you’re welcome here, and I’d hate to see you leave so fast—it doesn’t have to be a bad thing you’re stuck here. I could take a look at that key for you some more, you know.”
“You have more devices?” Bran asked.
“Oh yes, plenty,” Gary quickly returned. “I’ve got gobs of things I could do to study that key. I am an expert on keys you know, and I’m sure I’d find something.”
He seemed to be grabbing anything just to make Bran stay, and it was very odd, because Bran had thought that Gary didn’t want him there. But Gary was obviously eager to help, and Bran really needed him.
“All right then, I guess staying a bit won’t hurt,” Bran said with reluctance, and Gary’s face lit up.
“That’s splendid!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “You won’t find a finer place than this one. And you and I will find a way to get your friend back, I promise.”
It was just peculiar how excited Gary was all of a sudden. Bran hoped that it was perhaps nervousness or seeing another human after being alone so long.
“What happened to the key?” Bran asked.
“It’s over there in the bowl of water,” Gary said, gesturing to Bran’s bedside table. “It seems it’s got a way of keeping itself from harm. The bowl and the pillar are the only things that weren’t wrecked in that room.”
Bran slid closer and drew the key out with his good hand, shaking it so the water fell off. As he sat back down, his necklace slid out from under his shirt. Gary drew back and gasped, stumbling as if his heart had stopped. Bran, afraid at first the key had done something, moved away as well, but then he saw that Gary’s gaze was on the necklace.
“Are you all right?” Bran said, looking down and then back to Gary.
“Yes, yes,” Gary stammered. “Quite all right, Bran. It’s just…I hadn’t expected to ever see that necklace again.”
“You’ve seen it before?” Bran said with surprise.
“Oh yes,” Gary nodded, regaining control of himself. “I just thought for sure she would have…gotten rid of it, a long time ago.”
“My mother?” Bran said with shock, reaching to touch the necklace and feeling oddly as if he should hide it from Gary’s gaze. “You knew her?”
A silence fell over the room as Gary hesitated.
“I did,” he said simply. “Once. A long, long time ago.”
His face became forlorn, and he moved like he was about to say something else, even holding his hand out toward the necklace. But he stopped himself, and stepping back through the door, he disappeared.
Bran froze in shock but pushed the sheets off his legs and hurried to the door.
“How did you—” he began, but Gary was already gone. The hallway beyond split off in two directions. He looked down each but saw no trace of Gary in either. The candles lining the walls seemed to have dimmed on their own. It made the red and gold wallpaper and the dark carpet appear sinister. Bran listened for Gary, and he heard a sound straight ahead, so he started off.
“Gary?” he called, trying to get his attention, but he found that the end of the hall met with another, which he took, passing many doors and displays of keys. He came to the end of the hall rather quickly and found that it opened into the main room at the balcony, the ship hovering many levels below his feet and the gentle rumblings of the sleeping creature within causing the floor to buzz.
At first, Bran didn’t catch any trace of Gary, but then he saw a shadow two levels higher, disappearing through a door that closed quietly. Bran hurried around the balcony, winding up until he reached the level where the shadow had been, finding that he was back at the door to Gary’s office. He almost knocked, but his eagerness got the best of him, so he simply burst through.
The room was shrouded in total darkness. The dim light from behind him sliced through it, a beam falling across Gary’s desk, Bran’s silhouette framed across the room. No one was there.
“Gary?” he said softly, but there came no reply. He was sure he had seen him go into this room. He gently closed the door behind him, and the only light came through the giant window behind the desk and from the low coals in the fireplace. Bran was suddenly able to see through the glass clearly: the fish that swam by, the debris that carelessly floated there.
Bran was about to leave, afraid he might wake Escrow and be caught snooping, but he spotted something sitting on Gary’s desk. It was Adi’s letter. He glanced around the room one more time, but he didn’t sense anyone watching, so he crept closer to take a look.
There were various odds and ends strewn across Gary’s desk, and Bran was careful not to knock anything aside. Bran stole one more glance at the door before he picked the pages up from the unsealed envelope, opening them and squinting to read. It was too dark, so he bent them toward the light.
A great shriek split the air, and the letter was jerked from Bran’s grasp. He spun, but in the darkness he only heard the scream of Escrow.
“Unwelcome!” the bird called. “Unwelcome here!”
“Hush!” Bran demanded in a hoarse whisper, but he heard the sound of papers being torn, and he spun to see Escrow viciously shredding the letter with his beak. Bran dashed across the room, but the bird cried out again, dodging to the desk and tearing it up with his talons, until in mere seconds it was nothing but worthless confetti.
