The Midnight Door

by Sam Fisher

“Leave him!” Robbie shouted, tugging at his elbow. “He’s not worth it!” But Morton didn’t move.

  Robbie tugged again, but this time Morton pulled his arm away, feeling suddenly very angry. “Look, don’t you get it?” he yelled. “None of this is Brad’s fault. It was me who found the gargoyle. Me who broke the first finger. Me who gave James the comic.”

  “But you didn’t mean to do those things,” Robbie said, his face stony.

  “Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe Brad didn’t mean to be mean?”

  “How can you not mean to be mean?” Robbie shouted in a skeptical tone.

  “You heard what he said about his parents selling him to a circus. Try to imagine what that would feel like for just one minute.”

  Morton saw a flicker of understanding in Robbie’s eyes, and his friend made the slightest of nods, but neither of them had time to discuss it further. Rats were still swarming in through the broken window, covering every available inch of space, and several more leaped up at Morton and Robbie, despite their efforts to kick them away.

  Suddenly James and Nolan appeared beside them. “Grab hold,” James said, pointing to Brad’s tightly bound beefy legs, and Morton and Robbie each grabbed an ankle while Nolan and James grasped firmly on to the wire around his chest.

  “Heave!” James shouted, and all four of them leaned back and put their full weight into moving Brad’s inert mass.

  To Morton’s immense relief, Brad’s body began to slide across the floor, and they were able to drag him quickly along the narrow alcove and through the curtain. As soon as they were on the other side, Morton yanked the inside curtain closed. A few Two-Headed Rodents crawled under the curtain after them, but only a few, and Morton realized with relief that the clock must once again have reached five past twelve, sealing the wall behind them.

  James, Nolan, and Robbie set to kicking and squashing the rats that had passed through. The Rodents dispersed quickly, running off down the passage, screeching in panic as they went.

  “Melissa’s right,” James said as the last of them vanished out of sight. “Monsters are cowards.”

  Morton didn’t think they were cowards exactly, but now was not the time to discuss it. Somewhere beneath the tightly bound mesh Brad let out a painful wail.

  “We’ve got to get him free,” Nolan said. “He’ll suffocate.”

  Morton turned hopefully to The Book of Parchments. The book itself didn’t look at all special, but when he put his hands on the pages inside, he knew that this was no ordinary paper. It was cool to the touch and seemed almost to tingle under his fingertips. He flipped quickly through the book and saw that many of its pages were still blank and unused, but some had illustrations of rooms and curious objects. He wasn’t surprised to find one page with a very large and intricate maze, and another with a floor plan for a large room that had exactly the same layout as the library. The drawings were, for the most part, all very carefully rendered, with clear straight lines and fine inked-in details, but when Morton found a rough scribble of lines he knew he’d found what Crooks had drawn to bind Brad.

  Brad made another pained wailing sound.

  “If I had an eraser,” Morton said, “I think I could set him loose.”

  Nolan produced a short stub of pencil from his pocket, the top of which had a lightly chewed pink eraser, and handed it to Morton. “This should work,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Morton said, and he immediately began rubbing at the nest of lines that Crooks had scrawled onto the page. The paper was so smooth and strong that the drawing wiped clean away without leaving even the slightest smudge, and as Morton had suspected, the tightly bound strands of wire vanished with the lines on the page. Brad, however, was barely conscious, and Nolan rushed to his side.

  “We’re losing him,” he said. “We’re going to have to do the dousing spell now.”

  “Now?” Morton said. “How can we do it now? Don’t we need bats’ blood and a whole bunch of other stuff?”

  To Morton’s surprise Nolan pulled a stainless steel flask and a small brown paper bag from his jacket pocket. “I have everything here. All I need is a page from that book and —”

  Before Nolan could finish, a high-pitched scream reverberated from somewhere behind them and the four boys all turned to stare down the illuminated passage.

  “Melissa and Wendy!” James exclaimed. “Where are they?”

  Morton suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen them at all since they passed through the curtain.

  “They must be down there with Crooks!” Robbie said.

  Morton jumped to his feet and was about to run in the direction of the scream when James grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

  “Morton, think!” he shouted. “It’s obviously a trap.”

  Morton turned back to face James. Of course he was right.

  “I know, but we have The Book of Parchments now, right?”

  “So?” James said. “He’s got a whole library of books on magic down there. Who knows what else he has tucked up his sleeve.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Morton said. “I’m starting to think he doesn’t know much about magic.”

  Nolan, James, and Robbie all looked at Morton as if he was completely out of his mind.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I think we can outwit him. With this book we can conjure a Snarf of our own, or a troop of Gristle Grunts, or a swarm of Smother Fish,” Morton explained.

  James didn’t appear convinced, but just then there was another echoing shout from below, followed by the sounds of a scuffle.

  Morton turned toward the sound. “We don’t have a choice,” he said. “We have to go.”

  “You’re right,” James said, and he turned to Robbie and Nolan. “You two stay with Brad. If we’re not back in ten minutes, then whatever you do, don’t come looking for us.”

  Nolan and Robbie nodded grimly as Morton and James took off down the shallow descent of the passage, running all the way.

  When they arrived at the opening to the library, they paused in the shadows and peered cautiously ahead. The room was completely silent and appeared empty, although several bookcases were overturned, with King’s precious books spilled on the marble floor.

  “Definitely looks like a trap,” James whispered, creeping ahead to get a better look. “What do you propose?”

  Morton flipped The Book of Parchments open to the page with the detailed inked floor plan of the library. “Anything I draw on this page,” he explained, “will appear in the room, so all we have to do is get Crooks to come out into the open and then I can draw a cage around him, just like he did to Brad and Nolan.”

  “Oh, now I see. You want me to be the bait,” James said, sounding not too happy.

  “No need to bait the trap,” came Crooks’s voice from somewhere in the shadows, and a moment later he walked out from one of the alcoves and stood calmly in the bright light of the oil lamps.

  “Where are the girls?” James demanded in a voice that was part rage and part fear.

  Crooks pointed at the book in Morton’s hands. “First give me that,” he said.

  Morton placed the pencil on the paper. “First you let the girls go,” he said. “And don’t try any tricks. I can draw too.”

  “You still think you have a choice, don’t you?” Crooks said, eyeing the book and smiling in a way that made Morton feel uneasy. “Although I don’t suppose there’s any harm in you seeing them.” And before he’d even finished speaking, Morton spotted something moving in the shadowy alcoves. He made out the silhouettes of Wendy and Melissa immediately, but they were each in the grip of two other people, and Morton couldn’t even begin to imagine who these strangers were, but a moment later the figures moved into the light. James yelped in surprise.

  The two men were both Sydenham Crooks, except their skin was a little grayer and the color of their clothing was a little more muted. Crooks had obviously drawn replicas of himself, and only now did Morton realize he’d enc
ountered one of these illustrated clones of Crooks before. That must have been how Crooks had surprised him the first time he’d entered the store.

  “They always say if you want anything done, then you have to do it yourself,” the real Crooks said, still wearing the same unsettling smile.

  “Morton, look out!” Melissa shouted, just in time to make Morton aware of another gray-skinned clone creeping up behind him.

  Morton darted over to the large table in the center of the room and lay the book open in the light of the lamp. Quickly he began to scrawl rough cages around each of the Crooks clones, managing to trap three of them with ease. But there were more of them than he could keep track of, and suddenly one of them grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to drag him away. Morton clung on to the edge of the table and managed to drive an elbow into his attacker’s stomach, causing it to fall back momentarily, but the battle was far from won. Morton could see now that there were dozens, possibly as many as fifty zombielike copies of Crooks drawn on the page, all with brown tweed suits and tiny red bow ties….

  Suddenly James let out a cry, and Morton looked over to see four clones overwhelming him, dragging him to the ground. A fifth was reaching for the open book beneath Morton’s hand.

  In a moment of sheer desperation, Morton could think of only one thing to do. He tore the top page right out of The Book of Parchments and stuffed it down into the glass chimney of one of the oil lamps glowing serenely on the table. Instantly the illustrated replica at his elbow jumped back and let out a scream of anguish as veins of fiery light ignited over his whole body, until he simply exploded in a burst of orange fire. At the same time all the other illustrated Crookses stopped in their tracks and started vanishing in puffs of flame.

  James and the girls were free, but in the next instant Morton realized his mistake. Quite suddenly the entire room burst into flame as tiny rivulets of golden fire shot through the walls all around them.

  “You fool!” the real Crooks screamed, and he leaped across the room and grabbed at the now torn remains of The Book of Parchments. Morton grasped at the book too and tried to snatch it away, but Crooks gripped it tightly with his clawed hands, and as the two of them tugged it, Morton heard a loud ripping noise and Crooks stumbled backward with the book clutched greedily to his chest.

  By now the rivulets of fire were traveling at lightning speed and already they had spread across the entire room, leaving large black ashen voids in their wake. Crooks, still stumbling, backed up against a dark crevasse in the floor and teetered on the edge. He let out another cry of terror, and Morton watched in horror as he grasped at empty air, spinning his arms like a giant wrinkled bird in an attempt to prevent his fall.

  Morton raced over to grab Crooks but it was as if the world had slowed down, and with each step he took, Crooks’s frantic body tilted more steeply toward the black void behind him.

  There was nothing Morton or anyone else could do. By the time he’d skidded to the edge of the smoking gash, Crooks was already a pinpoint of color in the swirling darkness below.

  Morton lingered for the briefest of moments, but the sound of roaring flame was intense now, and suddenly Melissa and Wendy were beside him.

  “No time!” Melissa said, and she yanked him to his feet and flung him in the direction of the exit. Morton saw that more charred gashes were opening up beneath them, and the three of them leaped over the remaining solid patches of floor as if playing some fatal game of hopscotch until they arrived at the opening to the passage. Unfortunately it looked as though they were already too late. The entrance was now nothing but a ring of blue flame billowing out hot air like the mouth of a small volcano. James was standing a few feet from it, shielding his face from the intense heat.

  “It’s no good,” James said. “We’ll be roasted alive.”

  Morton turned back to look around, but the view behind was even worse. The charred black voids were spreading over the entire room.

  “What are we going to do?” Wendy shrieked as flames shot out of the cracks in the floor.

  “We’re going to have to run for it,” Morton yelled, pointing at the fiery tunnel ahead.

  “That’s impossible,” James said.

  “We’ll fall into the abyss with Crooks if we don’t try,” Morton shouted back, but even as he spoke, something came crashing toward them from the heart of the fiery tunnel. There was a sudden cry and a loud inhuman screech and then from out of the fire burst an immense creature wearing a smoldering jacket.

  “Brad!” Morton exclaimed.

  Brad grabbed Wendy and Melissa and tucked them under his arms, and Robbie, who was riding on his back and covered in soot, yelled out to the others, “Quick, climb on.”

  Nobody hesitated. Morton and James leaped onto Brad’s immense back and hung tightly around his neck, and before they even had time to speak, Brad turned around and bolted again directly through the heart of the fire.

  Morton closed his eyes tight. The heat dashed against his skin like hot sand and his clothes started to feel like somebody was ironing them while they were still on his body. He was sure that his head was about to spontaneously combust. But then, just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, they burst out of the suffocating heat and he dared to open his eyes. The passage ahead was still intact, although he could feel the fire racing up behind them.

  Fortunately Brad did not slow down. With the green curtain visible up ahead, he redoubled his pace and Morton felt as though he were sitting on the back of a steam train going at full speed.

  In just a few more immense strides, Brad arrived at the curtain, threw it back, and bounded into the store, practically crashing into the wall at the far end. The rats, which were now several feet deep, screeched hungrily, but Brad let out a much more terrifying cry and Morton felt the icy chill of fear paralyze his whole body.

  The rats scattered as a wave of terror spread out around them, and at last Brad released Melissa and Wendy, and Morton and the others climbed gingerly to the floor. Nolan rushed up to them.

  “Do you have the book?” he screeched above the clamor of rats and the ever-increasing roar of flames. But Morton didn’t have the energy to respond. He simply turned and watched as the flames raced up the corridor, washing away what was left of Crooks’s illustrated world in a fiery rain. Morton braced himself for the explosion of heat, but as the fire leaped up at the curtain, something unexpected happened. Instead of the flames breaking through to feed on the shelves of dry dusty books, they stopped, as if trapped behind a window, and then suddenly, the flames were gone and nothing but a solid black wall remained.

  Morton let his body go limp and he flopped back onto a pile of books, utterly exhausted.

  “The book?” Nolan repeated. “We need the book to reverse the magic!”

  Melissa appeared beside Nolan and stared down at Morton. “Where is it?” she asked, only barely able to mask the tremor in her voice.

  Morton closed his eyes and saw again the horrifying image of The Book of Parchments toppling into the ashen void right along with Crooks, and he lay there, feeling lifeless and defeated. How could he tell them that the book was gone, that all their efforts had been in vain?

  He opened his eyes and stared back at Melissa and Nolan and was about to shake his head and explain that the book, that all of King’s books, were gone forever. But he realized that he was clutching an object so tightly in his fist that his fingernails were digging into his palms, and only then did he remember the tearing sound that he had heard as he struggled to wrench the book from Crooks’s iron grip.

  He sat up and opened his fist to discover a single torn and crumpled sheet of pearlescent paper resting on his palm.

  “The last sheet,” Morton said. “I thought it had all been lost.”

  “One sheet is enough!” Nolan exclaimed with a grin.

  Brad made a strange gurgling sound, which somehow managed to sound happy and demonic at the same time.

  Nolan then leaped into action, first aski
ng Brad if he would step outside and scare away any approaching rats so that they could work unhindered. Brad didn’t seem to understand, and he merely stood there panting and wheezing, but Melissa seemed to get through to him. While she coaxed him into sitting on a milk crate just outside the storefront, Nolan pulled the flask of bat’s blood and the other ingredients from his pocket. “Everything’s here,” he said. “All that’s left is to draw a picture of all the things we want to douse.”

  “That’s a lot of drawing,” Robbie said. “We need a Two-Headed Mutant Rodent, a Snarf, and presumably all of the back-pages toys.”

  “I’ll do it,” Morton said. “I’m pretty sure I can remember them all.”

  Nolan handed Morton a pencil and left him to draw, while he began preparing the other ingredients and rummaging around the store for some kind of container. Morton grabbed a large hardcover book and smoothed out the torn piece of parchment.

  It took him about ten minutes to draw everything, and when he was finished he barely had any room left on the paper. “Is there anything else we want to get rid of?” he asked. “Because I’m pretty sure we’ll never find any more of this paper, so this really is our last chance to undo all the magic.”

  “How about Inspector Sharpe?” Melissa said. “It would be nice to get her off our backs.”

  Morton looked up at her, not quite sure whether she was serious. Wendy cleared her throat and put her hand on Morton’s shoulder. “I think she’s joking,” she said.

  “So, we’re sure that’s everything?” James said.

  Everyone nodded silently, and Nolan took the piece of paper from Morton and pushed it to the bottom of an old coffee mug. He then poured the dark red liquid from the flask and crumpled up some of the dried ingredients, which Morton couldn’t remember off the top of his head but looked to be leaves and some kind of powder.

  Instantly the paper seemed to melt like wax in a fire and the dark liquid began to glow with a pulsating purple light.

  Everyone held their breaths, and Morton listened and watched for some magical implosion or flash, but a moment later the glowing liquid faded to a lifeless gray and nothing seemed to happen at all. In fact, everything went so utterly quiet that for one fleeting moment Morton wondered if the spell had made the entire world vanish.