by Abby Smith
“So that’s a type of wisdom then,” Vala said. “To see that there is more to you than you realize, Allie Thomas. Well, it’s a start anyway. Good girl.”
“Vala?”
“Hm?”
“You could see…before, you could see that those sslorcs or Mr. Cutter or the contractor…whoever, you could see that they had some kind of hold on me, that line to my neck.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Because, I mean, I didn’t even realize, I didn’t know…”
“I didn’t want to worry you, and there wasn’t a lot you could have done about it anyway. Worrying would only have made it worse—made the bond even stronger. Being with your friends and family made it weaker, easier to break. It’s better that it never had a chance to get a hold of your heart.”
I put a hand up to my neck. “But it’s gone now, right? You would tell me if it was still there?”
“It’s gone now. There’s a small scar, but that will fade with time.” He traced one finger delicately across my neck, giving me goosebumps, then brushed it down my cheek before letting his hand drop to his side. His expression turned serious.
“So then, Allie, I have to go for a little while.”
“OK.”
I wanted to ask a million questions, about what I should do, what would happen next, and when I would see him again, but OK is all that came out.
He put both hands under my face and kissed the top of my head.
“See you soon.”
He turned and waved one arm over his head. The Gateway sprang to life, a million glowing filaments of light between the beech trees. He stepped through without looking back and was gone, the light fading after him, until the Gateway was dark. I thought I could see just the faintest shimmer between the two trees, woven threads of time and space waiting to be reactivated.
A chilly wind rustled the trees and kicked up the dry leaves on the ground around me. I shivered, rubbed my arms, and walked back to the cottage.
Mrs. Widgit, Professor Theopolous, and Bob were all ready to leave by the time I got there. Mrs. Widgit promised to return soon and hugged both Andie and me. Then they left, wandering west, past the barn, to wherever they spent their evenings.
“Well, girls,” Dad said, “I’ll head up to the house and see what we can do by way of feeding the two of you. Maybe you should lock the cottage when you’re done, Al?”
“Sure.”
He left, and Andie and I stood alone in the foyer. The only sound was the steady ticking of the cuckoo clock.
“It doesn’t seem right to be here without Pettikin,” Andie said.
“I know. I wonder if we’ll ever see him again.”
More silence.
“We have to go to school tomorrow,” we both said at the same time, and then laughed.
“Ugh. C’mon let’s go do something normal before then,” Andie said.
We made a quick pass through the living room to pack up our stuff. I shoved Introductory Gatekeeping and The Guardians into my backpack. Andie took her Book of Useful Phrases (“There might be something else good in here,” she said) and a book called Famous Allies.
We looked around the room one last time.
“At least we won’t be bored,” Andie said.
I flicked off the light. We locked the cottage door and walked back to the house together.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I gave up on writing this book so many times that it most certainly would not exist were it not for the dogged encouragement, counsel, and support of the following people and institutions, in roughly chronological order:
Thank you to my family and the town of Wooster, OH for giving me a great education and a childhood where I could wander in the woods and dream of bigger things.
Thank you to the Gotham Writer’s Workshop and my instructors Thomas O’Malley, Masha Hamilton, and Carolyn MacCullough for teaching me useful basics for fiction writing, such as: “These vivid characters should probably exist in some sort of setting.”
Thank you to Chris Baty, muse-incarnate and founder of National Novel Writing Month, for making me laugh and for providing a forum in which a few rough, meandering chapters could be transformed into a rollicking-bad first draft of a novel. Thank you also to NaNoWriMo first-elf Grant Faulkner for continuing to support my quest to finish my book year after year.
Thank you to my former manager and long-time friend Gregg Evans, who probably deserves something closer to a co-author credit for: encouragement on early chapters, use of first-born dog, generating names for other-worldly creatures and places, back-filling gaping plot holes, and copyediting services. I can’t stress enough the importance of finding a reinsurance actuary to read the early drafts of your middle-grade fantasy novel.
Thank you to my friend Ethel Greene, who in no way bears a purely coincidental resemblance to Mrs. Widgit, for supporting, encouraging, enthusing, and raging over early chapters in the way only she could.
Thank you to my old bestie Amy Schuesselin Henricksen for bravely offering up her eldest child, Ms. Madeline Henricksen, as my first age-appropriate beta reader. (“We’re sharing the brain three ways now, Ab.”) It is due to Madeline’s efforts that the word ‘shinnied’ now appears in this manuscript only once.
Thank you to my older brother Justin Smith and nephew Adam Smith for reassuring me that the book “actually wasn’t too bad!”
Thank you to my step-niece Alyssa Pratt-Miranda for finding me an army of beta-readers. And a huge thank you to young beta readers Cole Bhella, Aidan Dehays, Sarah McGarrity, Zoe Parkinson, and Oona Woodbury for their comments and feedback. You guys gave me the courage to see this project through.
Thank you also to my many adult beta readers, including Rory Airhart, Tony Akkanen, Marsha Bell, Barbara Fox, Kate Fox, Jennifer Fry, Ellie Hastings, Alexia Marcous, Wolfgang Müschenborn, Michelle Roycroft, Tori Santos, Jill Sweeney, and my soul sister from Gotham Joan Turlington, who owes the world a book about Professor Roland. My apologies to anyone I inadvertently omitted.
Thank you to Dean Robbins (www.deanrobbins.net) for providing an early edit. Any flaws in the final manuscript are my own and no reflection on his talents.
Thank you to my dear friend and editor Karin Hanni (rambleom.blogspot.com) who understands the comma in a way I never will. And special thanks to Karin’s kids, Tara and Dylan Wall, who were not only beta readers, but made my entire life when they sent me a photo album of Pettikin sharing their summer vacation adventures in Bellingham, WA.
Thank you to the amazing and delightful Sophie Mitchell (sophiemitchellillustrations.com) for bringing Pettikin to life with her magical illustrations and cover artwork. Thank you to Kellie Bonnici (kebowebdesign.com) for the beautiful website design.
Thank you to ONE OK ROCK for the inspiring music and for finally showing me, after all these years, how to think positively.
Finally, thank you to “My Guardians” for their endless love, patience, wisdom, encouragement, humor, support and inspiration.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Abby Smith is a database consultant and tech entrepreneur who has spent many meetings doodling and wishing an interdimensional portal would open up and take her home. In addition to writing, she enjoys hiking, traveling, and music. She lives in Connecticut with a revolving cast of pets and welcomes your correspondence at [email protected].
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