by Anna James
‘And the children,’ Vesper said, and Chalk, looking as though it was physically paining him, offered the tray to Tilly and Oskar too. Tilly almost ate something just to spite him, but elected to ignore him instead.
‘Can you please tell us what’s going on?’ Tilly said, while eyeing up the blue book of fairy tales they needed to escape, which was lying on the desk behind them.
‘My name is not really Vesper,’ the woman said. ‘It is Decima. Decima Underwood. You may have heard of me.’
‘As in … You’re Melville’s sister? The one who died?’ Tilly said.
‘Half a point, Tilly,’ she said. ‘I had been told you were cleverer than this. I am clearly not deceased. But yes, I am Melville’s sister.’
‘Why didn’t you come back with him? What are you doing here?’ asked Tilly in horror, a chill creeping down her spine as the chances of this ending well diminished second by second.
Decima stood tall. ‘We have unfinished business here, and one of us needed to stay and attend to it. My brother drew the short straw.’
‘Why is going back to the real world the short straw?’ Oskar asked, confused. ‘Why would you want to stay here?’
‘Because he will begin to age as soon as he leaves,’ Decima said, shuddering at the thought. ‘Which is what I am working on. And despite his distaste for the ageing process, he cannot deny that I am much better at the science side of things than he is. His skills lie, as I’m happy to admit, on the charm-offensive side.’
‘But what are you working on, and what does he have to do with it?’ Oskar said, jerking his head in Chalk’s direction.
‘One thing at a time. Don’t worry so much about him – he’s really considerably less important than everyone seems to think,’ Decima said. ‘Firstly, we are working on something that we believe you might be able to help us with. That is why we asked Gretchen to accompany you here, which she has so kindly and so efficiently done for us.’ Tilly looked in horror at Gretchen, who couldn’t even meet her eyes.
‘You tricked us?’ Tilly said.
‘Not really,’ Gretchen said, having the grace to sound a little embarrassed. ‘I just fudged some of the details so you would come.’
‘What do you want?’ Tilly said. ‘I’m not doing anything that helps him.’ She stared coldly at Enoch Chalk, trying not to let her fear show on her face.
‘Perfectly understandable,’ Decima said. ‘But, no, I hope it’s something that you’ll happily agree to. I am trying to find a way to heal fairy tales – that’s what all this paraphernalia is for. I’m trying to work out what is going on, and how to stop it. So, you see, we are not on opposing sides.’
‘So why didn’t you just ask?’ Tilly said. ‘And why me?’
‘Well, Matilda,’ Decima said. ‘Let us lay all our cards out on the table. We know who your father is. We know that you are half fictional, and that makes you special.’
‘I wouldn’t go as far as special,’ Chalk said dismissively. ‘It’s merely a biological quirk. Don’t go inflating her already oversized ego.’
Tilly turned to Decima. ‘Before we go any further,’ she said. ‘I want to know why he is here, because I won’t help with anything that he will benefit from. He kept my mum trapped for eleven years.’
Decima nodded. ‘Leave,’ she said to Chalk.
‘What?’ Chalk spluttered.
‘I said, leave,’ she repeated. ‘Matilda’s request is perfectly reasonable considering what you’ve put her family through and I think that if we are going to ask for her help she deserves a chance to properly weigh the situation up without your menacing presence hovering over her.’
Chalk made a big show of walking very slowly to the door and slamming it behind him.
‘I’m sorry, Tilly,’ Decima said. ‘He was a necessity. We wanted to know if we could use his information to help our quest.’
‘But you’ve been here for years, and he’s only been here for a few months.’
‘Yes, but he makes himself useful, and we’ve gleaned some tidbits from him.
Don’t worry, he’s a spare part in the greater battle.’
Tilly did not trust her at all, but couldn’t deny that she enjoyed seeing Chalk being put in his place. ‘So, what do you need me for?’
‘Well, we have reason to believe that the fact that you are of both worlds – reality and fiction – means you might be the key.’
‘The key to what?’
‘To healing fairy tales, of course,’ Decima said.
‘Me?’ Tilly said.
‘Yes, you. You’re very unique, and therefore very important. And so I have a great favour to ask of you.’
‘Which is?’ Tilly said hesitantly.
‘A drop of your blood,’ Decima said.
‘Okay, that is very much a red flag,’ Oskar said. ‘I’m not sure anything good ever came from giving blood in dungeons.’
‘Just a drop,’ Decima said, staring daggers at Oskar. ‘Nothing sinister. Just one tiny drop that we can mix with this book magic and use to reverse what is happening here in the fairytale lands.’
‘This is why you brought me here?’ Tilly said to Gretchen.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry for the subterfuge, I truly am, but I was worried that you would sayno, or that you would tell your grandparents, and their love for you would blind them to the bigger story.’
‘And you trust her?’ Tilly said. ‘Even though she’s using Chalk?’
‘Yes, I do,’ Gretchen said. ‘Although I didn’t know about Chalk. But, Tilly, imagine if you could say you were the one to heal fairy tales. What a thing that would be. Think how proud your mum would be of you.’
‘Just one drop?’ Tilly said.
‘Yes,’ Decima nodded. ‘And your grandfather was a Librarian, wasn’t he? So it is no more than he has done in the service of stories. You’re carrying on the family legacy in a way.’
‘Tilly, I really think you should stop and think about it for a minute,’ Oskar said. ‘Can we just have a quick chat?’
‘I’m afraid there isn’t time for that,’ Decima said. ‘And it is Tilly’s decision. Not mine, or Gretchen’s, or yours.’
‘It can’t do any harm, can it?’ Tilly said to Oskar.
‘Of course it can!’ he said. ‘You saw the Librarians use Melville’s blood to bind him to stories!’
‘That’s purely symbolic,’ Decima said. ‘It’s just ink and blood; there’s no book magic there.’
‘And we can go home after this, yes?’ Tilly said.
‘Of course,’ Decima said. ‘Gretchen can take you and … What’s your name?’
‘Oskar,’ he said. ‘Don’t mind me.’
‘Great,’ Decima said. ‘You can just go and stand over there.’
‘I was being sarcastic,’ Oskar said under his breath, and stayed put by Tilly’s side.
‘So, what do you think, Tilly?’ Decima said, taking a step closer.
Tilly took a deep breath.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s give it a go.’
Oskar opened his mouth as if to try to stop her but ended up just shrugging.
‘It’s your call, Tilly,’ he said in the end. Tilly steeled herself.
‘If it will help stories, then I’ll do it,’ she said.
And she held out her hand.
ecima went over to a workbench and picked up a glass bottle of inky book magic, and a sharp silver pin with an ornate rose-shaped head.
‘Just a little scratch,’ Decima said, gently holding Tilly’s hand over the bottle and pricking her finger lightly with the pin. It felt like a tiny scratch and then it was done, and they all watched as two drops of blood fell into the magic below.
‘Is it going to do something?’ Oskar said.
‘It’s not some cheap trick,’ Decima said, voice annoyed but eyes focused on the vial.
‘So can we go now?’ Tilly said, holding her finger. ‘That’s all you needed?’
‘Well, potentially,’ De
cima said. ‘But we need to make sure it’s worked, of course. My brother should be here any second.’
‘What? How?’ Tilly felt the horrid, creeping chill of fear again.
‘Melville is keeping track,’ Decima said. ‘You’re ever so lucky, Matilda, as you find yourself in a Source Edition. And as you know, anything we do here will be mirrored in all copies of the book. And this book has a very limited run; only two others exist. We gave one to Gretchen here so she could find us easily, and one has been at the Underlibrary with my brother so he can see what is happening here and knows the moment to …’
All of a sudden, Melville Underwood was standing in the middle of the room. But he didn’t look anything like the last time Tilly had seen him. He was no longer the handsome, groomed man, but looked as though he had aged twenty years in only a few days.
‘Oh, Brother, reality not treating you well?’ Decima smirked. ‘I might have been born first, but you are definitely the older twin now, I’d say.’
Melville didn’t laugh. ‘Is it done?’ he said, not even acknowledging Tilly’s presence.
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Decima said. Melville stepped forward and took his shirt off, revealing that his entire body, except for his forearms, was covered in crude, faded tattoos. There didn’t seem to be any discernible pattern to them; they didn’t look much like the beautiful tattoos Tilly sometimes saw on customers in the bookshop. They were mainly lines and circles, and even what looked like messy writing, although Tilly couldn’t see what it said from where she was.
Tilly and Oskar watched in increasing alarm as Decima produced a needle that was tied to a small wooden stick, and dipped it into the bottle of magic that had the drops of Tilly’s blood in it. She then proceeded to make a series of tiny pokes in Melville’s shoulder where there was still some untattooed skin, while Melville gritted his teeth.
‘This doesn’t look good,’ Oskar said.
‘What are they doing?’ Tilly whispered to Gretchen, who looked slightly nauseous watching them.
‘I’m not sure, Tilly,’ she said. ‘She told me that this was all to save fairy tales.’
‘Well, why don’t you go and ask them?’ Oskar said. ‘As you seemed so confident of the plan. Or we can just leave? I don’t want one of those tattoo things, thank you very much.’
‘No one is tattooing you,’ Gretchen said. ‘Either of you. Maybe you’re right, and it is time to go.’ She went over to the door, but it was still locked from when Chalk had arrived.
‘I’m afraid we need you to stick around for just a little while longer,’ Decima said, without taking her eyes from her brother’s arm.
‘Come, now, Decima,’ Gretchen said. ‘I’ve brought Tilly along as you asked, and she’s been very willing to help – even if it isn’t immediately obvious how whatever you are doing now is going to help fairy tales. So we’ll just head back, and we can check in again later?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Decima said. ‘Now, don’t annoy me while I have a needle in my hand.’ She went back to the tattoo, and Tilly nudged Oskar gently.
‘We should try and take something back for Grandma and Grandad,’ she whispered very quietly. ‘They need evidence to convince all the other librarians. What can you grab?’
Oskar scanned their immediate vicinity and nodded subtly to Tilly’s left where there was a small pile of stoppered bottles full of book magic. Tilly nodded and stretched her hand out and picked up two delicate glass containers. She slid one into her pocket and gave the other to Oskar. It was only seconds later that Decima finished Melville’s tattoo and wiped it roughly with a cloth.
‘Anything?’ Melville said impatiently. She peered at him.
‘I can’t see any changes,’ she said. ‘Look in the mirror.’
‘You do have a magic mirror,’ Oskar said.
‘It’s just a regular mirror, you imbecile,’ Decima said.
‘No, no change,’ Melville said, staring at his face in the mirror. ‘You’ve done it wrong.’
‘I assure you I haven’t,’ Decima said icily. ‘My research is accurate. The principles make sense. We just need to fine-tune.’
‘Well, get on with it, woman,’ Melville said. ‘Look at the state of me.’
‘Could you tell us how this is helping fairy tales?’ Tilly tried again, although her hope that they had been telling the truth had all but evaporated.
‘Silly girl,’ Decima said. ‘I couldn’t care less about fairy tales. Your naivety is astonishing. I can’t believe how easy it was to convince you that was the case. No wonder Gretchen got you here so easily. Do you believe everything you’re told?’ Tilly looked at Gretchen, who was looking very pale and now openly panicking.
‘I had no idea,’ Gretchen said. ‘I’m so sorry, Tilly. I promise I’ll get us out of here.’
‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep,’ Melville said. But he was interrupted by the same rumbling noise they had heard outside, and a huge crack splintered the floor underneath them, separating all of them from the door to the stairs. They watched in horror as the workbench holding the blue book they’d travelled in with toppled into it; but instead of falling and crashing, as soon as it touched the crack it just disappeared, as if being swallowed by a pool of oil. It was just like what had happened to the stone Jack had thrown into the dwarves’ cottage.
‘Dammit,’ Melville said. ‘We need to hurry up and get out of here.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Decima snapped.
‘So, just to be clear,’ Oskar said. ‘You are not interested in fixing … this?’
‘No, boy,’ Decima said. ‘We’re the ones who caused it.’
This was the final straw for Gretchen, who got to her feet and stalked towards the twins.
‘After all of this, you were the ones damaging fairy tales?’
‘Yes,’ Decima said. ‘Of course. You of all people know how fragile fairy tales are. On one of our tours back in the day, we discovered, in a genuine accident, that if one … destabilises them more on purpose, they start to simply leak book magic. Which of course is the most valuable resource there is and can be put to all sorts of uses.’
‘You’re breaking fairy tales on purpose?’ Tilly said, horrified.
‘Yes,’ Melville said slowly, as if explaining something to a very small child. ‘If one consciously pushes between different collections, weaves in and out of the different layers, it weakens them, and makes it even easier for characters to move between stories. And all this releases all this lovely book magic for us. I’ll admit I didn’t quite realise that the Endpapers would do … whatever they are doing,’ he said, gesturing at the gap in the floor. ‘So we need to work this out. Quickly,’ he said pointedly to Decima, as the room shook around them and the cracks in the floor widened.
‘Okay,’ she said, focusing. ‘Well, I only used a few drops before, so perhaps it is just a quantity issue and we need more.’
‘More?’ Tilly said, scared. ‘More what?’
‘More of you, clearly,’ Decima said. ‘Come here.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Oskar said.
‘No,’ Tilly said. ‘And I still don’t understand … What are the tattoos for?’
‘One of the particularly lovely ways one can use book magic is to borrow some of its properties,’ Decima said, raising her voice over the ongoing rumbling, as she sorted through piles of her research. ‘If one can get it into one’s body then one can absorb some of the immortal nature of our stories.’
‘Can’t you just drink it?’ Oskar said, horrified.
‘We tried that, of course,’ Melville said, steadying himself against a wobbling table. ‘But it had only a transient effect. Tattoos are the most efficient method we’ve found so far. However, it would seem that they only work while we are inside stories. We have managed to stop ourselves ageing here, but as you’ll see from my face, it immediately stops working in the real world, and in fact my body seems to be trying to catch up with my biological age at double ti
me. This is why we need Matilda.’
‘You are of stories and of the real world,’ Decima said. ‘And so infusing your essence with book magic should make our tattoos last long enough to at least slow this down so we can work out how to stop it forever.’
‘But why?’ Tilly asked.
‘I would have thought the appeal of immortality was obvious,’ Decima said. ‘But I’m afraid the particulars of what we would like to achieve are not for your ears. I’m all for sharing the science you are participating in, Matilda, it seems only fair, but let’s not get carried away. Now, are you going to help us willingly or not? Because we are very rapidly running out of time.’ At that, another crack splintered across the floor, and a sheaf of papers fluttered down into it, disappearing immediately.
‘Obviously not,’ Tilly said, although she was not sure exactly what she could do to stop it.
‘A shame,’ Decima said. ‘Although not entirely unexpected at this stage. But never mind, we really don’t care either way.’ And she picked up a silver knife from the bench behind her.
‘No,’ Gretchen said, and stepped forward, placing herself between Tilly and Oskar, and the twins. ‘This has gone far enough. What you are doing is reprehensible.’ And Tilly realised Gretchen was crying. ‘I will not let you harm Tilly in pursuit of whatever evil plan you have.’
‘Finally, a backbone,’ Decima sneered. ‘You were happy for us to use this child’s blood for something that suited your goals, but not now?’
‘Before I thought that it was to help heal fairy tales, not harm them!’ Gretchen said. ‘And you just wanted one drop!’
‘I’m not sure that’s much better,’ Oskar said angrily, finding that he did not have much faith in Gretchen’s ability to protect them.
‘Who is the other one, again?’ Melville said, noticing Oskar.
‘Come on!’ Oskar said. ‘I’ve been here the whole time!’
‘He’s my best friend,’ Tilly said. ‘And you can’t touch him.’
‘How sweet. But I assure you we have no interest in him at all,’ Melville said.
‘Rude,’ Oskar said, and Tilly looked at him in amazement.
