The Lighthouse between the Worlds

by Melanie Crowder

  Dr. Hibbert dusted off the backs of her hands. “I did.”

  “What?” Griffin shrieked. His voice echoed in the stunned chapel. He lunged at Dr. Hibbert, but his father’s arms closed around him, holding him tight to his chest.

  “You think you’re so smart,” Griffin spat. “You think you know all the answers. You think you can’t trust anyone but yourself. But you’re wrong. Thinking like that—it only makes things worse.” The embers caught and flared into flame, burning from the inside out, burning itself up. Griffin sagged against his dad. “My mom would have helped you. Together, you could have found a better way than your stupid plan. You should have trusted her.”

  Dr. Hibbert pulled what was left of her braid over her shoulder. “Like it or not, the deal I struck worked. I convinced the priests that they had all they needed between the silica and Katherine’s vast knowledge of glass. Apparently, though, they discovered that it wasn’t an understanding of theory and history that they needed. If they were going to construct more portals, they needed someone who actually worked glass, whose hands knew how to shape it and could bend it to their will. Don’t you see? I saved all of us.”

  Dr. Hibbert ticked her head to the side. “Except Katherine. She was a necessary sacrifice. But she understood the risks she took.”

  “She didn’t expect to be betrayed by one of us!” Liv shouted back. “Come on, Philip. She’s lying. Katherine is dead.”

  Dr. Hibbert sighed. “When the alarm sounded the other day? The priests never did plan on restarting their invasion of Earth. They couldn’t. Katherine’s block on the lens is still intact—the priests can’t go through the portal to Earth. None of us can, now. Unless, that is, someone here knows how to remove the block?” Dr. Hibbert quirked an eyebrow in Philip’s direction.

  “It was a trap. All they needed was to lure a skilled craftsman to the portal, where they could draw him through. They were after you, Philip, all along. I didn’t know, I swear. I tried to keep your son out of it—and I could have, if only he had listened to me.” She threw her hands in the air, and her voice dropped to a savage whisper. “Why do you think I’m here? I don’t actually want the priests figuring out how to make new portals.”

  “Enough!” Philip shouted. “Where is she?”

  “Philip!” Liv was practically screaming. “It’s a trap. We can’t trust her. You know that.”

  A scuffle sounded in one of the hallways, and then a crash. Shadows flickered across the walls, rapidly approaching the chapel.

  Philip lifted his shoulders in a defeated shrug. “I have to know, Liv. If there’s even a chance—”

  “We need to go,” Arvid interrupted. “Scatter!”

  But before they could reach the door, a priest and his soldiers swept into the chapel. Magic rolled off him in thick, peppery waves. When no one even flinched, the priest’s face grew tight with rage, and the soldiers stepped forward to protect him. Shouts rang out, and the chapel erupted into chaos. The soldiers were outnumbered, but their weapons came into their hands like they belonged there, and soon it was the rebels who were backed against the wall, dodging blows in a fight they were quickly losing.

  Fi glanced over her shoulder. The door to the hallway was open just enough for her to slip through. She could sneak away, and no one would miss her. That’s the thing about being a kid in a war meant for grown-ups—you’re easy to overlook. Fi sidled one step closer to the exit.

  The priest circled around them like a cat stalking its prey. In the center of the room, Griffin and Philip huddled together, holding on to each other while the world stormed around them. Griffin shut his eyes tight, bracing for the moment when someone would try to tear him away from his dad again.

  Fi paused. She felt a pang beneath her ribs and a wobbly sensation at the back of her knees. This was it for Griffin and his family. They were never going to make it out of here.

  The priest continued to circle. He crossed in front of Fi without even glancing her way. He had his back to her as he moved in front of the hole in the floor—the oubliette that had been Philip’s prison.

  Fi wasn’t very big. She’d never been trained to fight. But there was one particular kind of blow she had mastered. She slipped the paddle out from under her sash, gripped it, and, like she’d always wished she could, swung.

  The metal shaft hit the back of the priest’s knees, and they buckled, pitching his weight forward. His arms pinwheeled, grasping for a handhold as his body tumbled toward the oubliette. His head struck the grate with a clang that echoed like a bell in the chapel. The priest crumpled and dropped through the hole.

  Fi leaped into the air, whooping in satisfaction. As if a switch had been flicked off, the soldiers blinked, their faces flushed, and they shook themselves out of their magicked haze. They backed away from the fight, blinking in alarm at the unfamiliar sound of their own thoughts in their heads. Footsteps echoed in the hallways, along with the telltale swish of priests’ robes.

  “We won’t survive a second fight,” Arvid bellowed. “Run!”

  26

  CHAINS

  Philip caught Dr, Hibbert by the elbow. “Take us to Katherine. Now.” And with no choice but to trust her, Griffin, Fi, and the rest followed Dr. Hibbert into the tunnel on the left. They rounded a corner and thundered down a flight of stairs to a low tunnel with torches set into the walls.

  None of it was on the map Fi had studied so carefully. She glanced back over her shoulder at the rectangle of light trailing down the stairs. This was not part of the plan. She gripped her paddle in both hands and followed the others. At the bottom of the stairs, the tunnel took a sharp turn, and they ran straight into a locked door.

  Griffin tugged at the handle, rattling the door on its hinges, but it wouldn’t budge. “Mom! Are you in there? Mom!”

  “Get back,” Eb said. He got a running start and rammed the door with his shoulder. The hinges groaned and the resin window cracked, releasing a cloud of heat into the hallway. He backed up again for a second try.

  “Wait—” Fi yanked the ring of keys from her sash. Her hands trembled, the keys clanking together, as she fitted one after another into the lock.

  “Hurry,” Griffin pleaded.

  The first key was no good. The second and third turned halfway but wouldn’t go any farther. The fourth key slid into the lock and turned in a full revolution. The door clicked open, and heat poured out of the tiny room.

  Through the waves of heat Fi saw the silhouette of a woman gripping the worktable behind her. She was terribly thin. The skin under her cheeks sagged, and the bones of her shoulders and hips prodded the worn stola that covered her. Broad metal cuffs clanked around her ankles, leading to a bolt secured to the wall.

  “Philip?” Her voice scratched like a rat at the door. “Griffin, is that you?”

  Griffin looked into her face. It had only been three years, but she seemed to have aged a decade for each one. The mother in his memories was full of life—round cheeks and bouncing black hair, with deep laugh lines framing her mouth. This woman looked nothing like Griffin remembered, but it was her, all the same.

  She was alive.

  He crossed the room, one timid step in front of the other. He wanted to crumple onto the floor. He wanted to collapse against her, but he held back. She looked so fragile.

  With a cry, Philip was beside them. He swept his arms around Katherine, holding her up as much as holding her to him. Griffin buried his face in the gap between his mother’s ribs and his father’s stomach. He couldn’t remember a day that wasn’t shadowed by grief. And now, for the first time in years, he could breathe without feeling like his chest was going to collapse. They were together. Nothing else mattered.

  Fi scanned the room. Just like in the cavern, a brick box filled with fire waited in the corner. A round machine low to the ground shook, a coarse block of glass trembling over a piece of wet, sand-covered paper. Calipers and molds, gloves and Dremels were scattered all along the worktable.

  “
Fi,” Liv whispered. “We have to go. Eb and I are taking Hibbert back upstairs. Come on.”

  Fi shook her head. “I’m staying with Griffin.”

  “Fi.”

  “I’m staying.”

  Liv grimaced. “Make it quick.” And she pushed Dr. Hibbert ahead of them, along the narrow hallway and back upstairs.

  Arvid knelt beside Katherine’s feet, gingerly lifting the shackles and studying the locks. “The keys, Fi. Hurry!”

  Fi tossed the key ring across the room, and Arvid began the slow process of fitting the keys into the lock, one after another. “It isn’t working,” he muttered. “We don’t have the right one.”

  Griffin pulled himself away from his parents’ embrace. Neither he nor his father was leaving this room without his mom. He dashed over to the workbench, sifting through the tools, searching for something to break the locks or snap the chain. He slammed his hands against the workbench and turned toward the fire burning in the glassmakers’ kiln. The heat swept over him, licking his face like an old friend. He might not be as cunning as Dr. Hibbert. He might not know how to weigh the scheme of a revolution in his mind like Arvid or Liv, but fire and glass—that he understood.

  “Dad!” he shouted. “Come on. The chain is a soft metal. We can burn the links off.” Griffin grabbed a glassblower’s pipe from the worktable and handed a second to his dad. Together, as they had done so many mornings in their little studio by the sea, they thrust the long steel poles directly into the fire. When the tips of the metal rods were glowing red, they crossed back to Katherine’s side.

  “Hold still,” Philip whispered, pressing the red-hot metal against a single link in the chain. On Katherine’s other side, Griffin did the same. Rushing back and forth between the fire and the chains that held her captive, they worked until the links were weakened by the heat.

  “Back up, everyone,” Philip ordered. He swung the rod over his head and, in a burst of sparks, brought it down on the chains. The metal snapped, and Katherine skittered free. Griffin let the rod drop to the floor with a clang. His breath wobbled out of him, and he fell against his father’s side.

  “I’ve got her,” Arvid said as he lifted Katherine onto his back.

  “Let’s go!” Fi snatched the ring of keys from the ground. They thundered up the stairs and through the winding corridors. When they reached the chapel, it was silent. The priests and their soldiers were gone. Fi peered into the corridor. She stepped out into the open. For the first time since she had arrived in Somni, the rectory was completely empty.

  27

  THE GLASSMAKER’S PUZZLE

  They rushed through the corridors toward the servants’ exit, grabbing anything they could use as a weapon while they ran—knives and hammers, candlesticks and wrenches. The only sounds were their own footfalls and ragged breaths bouncing off the brick walls. There was a scuffle at the side door, and when Fi dashed through a moment later, she had to leap over the bodies of two unconscious soldiers.

  When they reached the other side of the wall, they ran straight for the servants’ quarters. Liv stood in the center of it all, gathering the resistance to her.

  “We’re taking Philip back to the caverns with us,” Arvid said in between gulps of air. “You take Katherine and Griffin and send them home.”

  “What?” Griffin shrieked. He tried to yank his father free of Arvid’s grasp. “No! Dad, we have to stay together. Tell them!”

  Arvid frowned. “Think, Philip. The priests kidnapped Katherine, and then you, for everything you know about glass. Tell me—how long will it take for them to realize your son knows almost as much? How long until they begin hunting him, too? Liv, you have to get Katherine and the boy out of Somni. As long as they’re here, they are in danger. All of us are.”

  “No—Dad!”

  Philip knelt in front of Griffin and placed his palms on either side of the boy’s cheeks. “I need to finish this—I need to fix the portal so Somni can never attack Earth again. And your mother needs a doctor. Will you stay with her? See that she gets home safely?”

  Griffin wanted to bang his fists against his father’s chest, kick and scream until he stopped talking crazy. But his mom looked so tired and so frail, the metal cuffs still cutting cruelly into the skin at her ankles. A sigh quivered through him. “You come home, right away. As soon as you’re done.”

  “I promise.”

  Tears streamed down Griffin’s face and closed off his throat. He pulled out the journal and handed it to his dad. “I kept it safe, just like you said.”

  Philip tucked the journal into the pocket of his ragged flannel shirt. “I’m so proud of you, Griffin.” He looked up to where Katherine smiled weakly down on the two of them. His words stopped, and he cleared his throat a few times before he could speak again. “I love you both more than anything in the whole world—more than anything on any world.”

  Griffin backed away and reached up to take his mother’s hand. He didn’t care that his nose was running or that he was making awful choking, wheezing sounds while everybody was watching. He only cared that the tears flooding his eyes were making it hard to see his dad raise his hand high in a last wave before he disappeared around the corner.

  Liv lifted her fingers to her lips and whistled three short blasts. The sound was echoed in the servants’ quarters, and then again in the rectory and from deep within the temple. The daylight was fading, and shadows blended together as, all around, buildings emptied, and the Vinean resistance flooded the streets.

  Liv hopped onto the nearest bench and shouted over the crowd. “This is the day we’ve been waiting for. Don’t lose your nerve now, and don’t get distracted by revenge. Fight your way to the tower. Whoever gets through the portal first—sound the alarm. The resistance back home has been waiting for years for our signal to attack the fort.” She paused, and a fierce smile crept across her lips. “We’re going home.”

  A cheer erupted from the crowd. Liv thrust her crowbar into the air. “For Vinea!”

  “Vinea!” the crowd roared.

  The sound echoed off the buildings all around them. It thrummed through Fi’s chest, pulsing and swelling until she thought she would burst. It was here. After all those years spent waiting, the time to fight back—the day when she would finally get to save her family—was here.

  They hefted their shovels and mop handles, hammers and trowels, and the sprint for the temple began. Fi was swept into the crowd that swarmed across the amphitheater and up the stone steps. She broke into a cold sweat as she ran. Her mouth was dry, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. This was it.

  The resistance streamed up the steps and through the broad doors. The priests were waiting for them, row after row of men in blood-red robes. Each one clasped a heartstone ring in his fist, the air filling with the peppery smell of magic. But the Vinean charge didn’t falter. The priests’ faces shifted from scorn to alarm as they reckoned with the years of cunning that had allowed their servants to rise up against them.

  Shouts and the clash of steel on steel rang through the temple. In the wake of the priests’ shock, the resistance felled the first line of priests and overwhelmed the soldiers. They ripped the heartstones from the priests’ fingers. They stripped off the straps and tubes that held the dreamers in place, lifted the frail bodies down from their alcoves, and settled them into the pews.

  Fights waged all around, but a path opened down the center aisle, and Fi ran for the tower rising out of the apse like a beacon. She was so used to going through life unnoticed—it had never occurred to her that one of soldiers locked in battle on either side might train his weapon on her.

  She’d barely registered the studded club swinging toward her head when Eb stepped into its path. He thrust his table knife between the soldier’s ribs just as the club connected with the back of his head. A sound like a tree splitting down the middle echoed through the nave. The soldier screamed, falling back, and Eb dropped to the ground, motionless. Fi skidded to a stop.
r />   “No!” she shrieked. She crouched down beside him, her hands fluttering, useless to help. His face was impossibly pale, creased with pain. “What did you do that for? Eb!”

  He struggled to raise his eyelids. “Go,” he wheezed.

  “I’m not leaving you like this—there’s got to be someone who can help. I don’t know anything about healing. Why did I never bother to learn—”

  “Fionna,” Eb gasped. “There is more for you on the other side. If I helped get you there . . .” And then there was a long pause, so long, Fi began to worry he’d already left her. A trickle of blood dripped off his earlobe, staining the stone beneath his broken head. His lips parted “. . . then I have done my part.”

  “But, Eb—”

  His eyelids sagged closed. “Go.”

  Fi’s whole body shook. She stumbled to her feet, sobbing, and ran toward the tower. Her arm was wet. She looked down, confused. A long gash traced her forearm, and blood dripped from her elbow onto the bricks below. She didn’t even remember being struck.

  Griffin had almost caught up with her. Katherine’s arm was slung over his shoulder, both of their faces tight with strain. Liv was just behind them, dragging Dr. Hibbert with her.

  Fi sprinted up the spiral steps that led to the top of the tower, then, gasping for breath, leaned over the cast-iron railing. “Griffin!” Her voice was sharp with panic. “I need you!”

  But he didn’t budge, afraid to leave his mother’s side even for a second. Fi paced the landing. She groaned in anguish. Her heart felt like it was splitting apart. Her mind kept replaying the moment when the club crashed into Eb’s skull. And that sound—

  She stepped to the window, clenching her fists until her fingernails broke the skin. She opened her eyes as wide as she could, willing them to see anything but that terrible moment. Above her, the eight beams swept across the city and over the wastelands beyond. She’d only seen Somni from this height once before, on the day she’d first arrived. Her gaze traveled over the shadowed neighborhoods that curved like insect burrows in and out and in on themselves again. The beams swept past, lighting up the thin clouds and the flat, barren ground beyond.