فصل 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Rhakotis

“Remember,” Dr. Pym said, “by going into the past, you children changed history. We must therefore imagine what would have transpired had you not traveled through time.”

Kate, Michael, and Dr. Pym were sitting on the side of a fallen tree. Ten minutes had passed since the boat had gone over the falls and they had appeared in the woods, and still, all around them, families reunited for the first time in two years, mothers and fathers who minutes before had thought their children lost for good, were clasping each other in disbelief.

Dr. Pym was in the process of answering one of Michael’s questions. Michael had wanted to know how the Atlas could’ve gotten from the vault in the Dead City to the study underneath the house. It was the sort of academic, essentially pointless question that he found fascinating. Kate was only half listening. She was watching Emma, who had wandered off to the edge of the gorge. For now, Kate thought it best to give her sister space.

“So,” the wizard continued, “in what I will call the original past, prior to all your time-jumping, the Countess would have searched for, but not discovered, the Atlas under the Dead City. Led by Gabriel, the men of Cambridge Falls would have shaken off their captors and rebelled. The Countess, knowing her master would not accept failure, would have destroyed herself and the children, and, in the process, cursed the town.

“Now, in any version of events, I would have found myself in Hamish’s dungeon. Let us assume I eventually freed myself, though not in time to thwart the Countess. Fearful that the witch’s master would send another emissary to pick up where the Countess left off, I would have removed the Atlas from the vault. From there, I can easily imagine how I might have taken over the Countess’s house and constructed an underground room to serve as a new repository. It would have appealed to my sense of irony, as if I were placing the book under her very nose. Then I would simply have woven a new enchantment so that if one of the three of you showed up, the door would reveal itself. Is that more or less what happened?”

Michael said it was.

“Well, there’s your answer.”

They all fell silent. Michael seemed to have run out of questions. It was Kate who finally spoke:

“It’s time, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dr. Pym replied. “You have done what you came to do. It is time.”

Kate rose and crossed to her sister. The wind was whipping up over the lip of the gorge, carrying spray from the falls.

“Are you cold?” Kate asked.

“No.”

“Emma, we did a really good thing.”

Emma said nothing.

“I’m so sorry about Gabriel.”

“He’s down there somewhere.”

Kate didn’t reply, but she put her arm around her sister, and together they gazed at the dark water rushing over the falls.

“Dr. Pym wants us to go, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They walked over to Michael and Dr. Pym. From her jacket pocket, Emma pulled the photo she’d taken of Kate in their bedroom, the one she’d snapped just before they’d gone back in time to rescue Michael. She gave it to her sister. Around them, families were beginning to drift toward the town.

“Will you be there?” Kate asked. “When we get back?”

“Believe me, it is my firmest intention.”

“Dr. Pym—” Emma began.

“My dear, Robbie and his dwarves are already looking for Gabriel. He will be well taken care of.”

“Dwarves are excellent trackers,” Michael said. “G. G. Greenleaf—”

“Michael,” Kate said.

“Yes?”

“Be quiet.”

“Okay.”

Emma and Michael joined hands, and Michael took hold of Kate’s arm. Kate opened the book. She stopped.

“Dr. Pym …”

Kate picked up something from between two pages. It was Abraham’s photo showing the women running along the top of the gorge, the one Michael had given her as the boat was hurtling toward the falls. Kate didn’t understand. She’d used this picture to move them through time. It should’ve disappeared!

“Ah,” Dr. Pym said quietly, “so it’s happened.”

“What do you mean?” Kate demanded. “What’s happened? Why’s it still here?”

“Katherine, do you recall what I told you in Hamish’s throne room?”

“No, but—”

“Try and remember. It will make things clear. Either way, I will explain in the future. For now, put the other photograph in the book. See if it disappears. My guess is that it will not.

“Please,” he said when he saw her hesitate, “trust me.”

“I do,” Kate said. And she meant it.

Kate handed Abraham’s photo to Michael, who slid it in his notebook, and then she made one last check to ensure that she and her brother and sister were touching. She noticed something sliding along the shadows of the trees. She looked closer, but whatever it was had faded into the darkness. Just get on with it, Kate thought, and with that, she placed the photo of herself on the blank page. There was the familiar tug, the scene before them disappeared, and then they were in their bedroom in the mansion, and once again there was the feeling of being held in place as they watched the other Kate and the other Emma prepare to travel into the past to rescue their brother, then Kate watched her other self place the photo in the Atlas, vanish, and they were released.

“Boy,” Emma muttered, “are they in for it.”

“Did the photo disappear?” Michael asked.

“No,” Kate said, showing it to them. “It’s still here.”

Just then they heard the door open behind them.

“So Your Majesties are here after all!”

The children turned; the old housekeeper was standing in the doorway.

“Miss Sallow,” Kate said, “we didn’t—”

“Hear me knocking the last ten minutes? Thought you’d play a joke on old Sallow? What a laugh you must’ve had! I wasn’t aware I was employed at the Comédie-Française.”

“Miss Sallow—”

“Dr. Pym is below and wishing the pleasure of your company. Will you be making an appearance or should I say their royal highnesses wish to stay in their chamber making bon mots and fa-la-la-ing at an old woman’s expense?”

Kate whispered to Michael and Emma, “Go on. I’ll catch up. I want to hide the book.”

As soon as her brother and sister disappeared with the old lady, Kate turned and stuffed the book under the mattress. Her hands were shaking. She knew that the photos not disappearing was important. But how? What was it Dr. Pym had told her in Hamish’s throne room? If only she could focus; if she could just clear her head for a moment. But there was so much else to think about: the prophecy and all that entailed; the other two Books of Beginning; the Dire Magnus, he was still out there; her mother.… Her mother had known who she was; her mother had recognized her. Kate was still thinking of that, or not thinking of it so much as reveling in the warmth of the memory, when she drew back the blanket and stood. That’s when it came to her. Dr. Pym had told her that she was the only one who could access the book’s full power. He means I can move through time, Kate thought, that I don’t need a photograph.

But he’d said something else as well. What was it?

She had to find the wizard.

“Katrina …”

Kate spun around. An ancient woman, a crone, bent-backed and wrapped in a ragged, filthy shawl, shuffled forth from a panel that had opened beside the fireplace. Her arms were little more than bones; the skin that clung to them was slack and spotted with sores. Lank strands of hair hung from her skull. Her blackened, swollen feet poked through the cracks in her shoes. She smiled, showing a mouthful of brown teeth. Kate’s eyes shot to the door; Emma, Michael, and Miss Sallow were long gone.

“Fifteen years,” the Countess croaked. “Fifteen years I’ve waited. For you it’s been a matter of moments. You stepped across time as you would over a crack in the floor. But I’ve waited, mon ange, every day, every hour, for fifteen years; waiting for when we would meet again.”

She moved between Kate and the door, blocking her escape. Not that it mattered; Kate couldn’t move. Fear held her in place. The Countess was alive. But how was that possible? Kate didn’t have to ask what the woman wanted. She had come for the Atlas.

“You can’t believe your old friend the Countess is still creaking along, can you? You thought my old master killed me, yes? No, no! He merely took back his power! Left me empty and weak! A wretched sack of skin and bones. You didn’t know that I woke up on the floor of that cursed boat, that I dragged my broken body onto the deck and saw you and that wizard and the rest of the brats. I knew what you were doing. Oh yes, and I joined your little chain at the last moment. When you saved the children, my sweet Kat, you also saved my life.”

She began laughing; it turned into a coughing fit, and she hacked something into her fist, which she wiped on the edge of her shawl.

“Afterward, I stayed hidden in the trees and watched the children reunite with their pathetic mothers and fathers. I couldn’t risk facing your wizard. But I saw you and your brother and sister with the book, and I knew then that I would wait. Everyone would believe I was dead. Even my master would think I had perished when the boat went over the falls. I saw how the Atlas could still be mine!”

She seized Kate’s arm. Her nails were black and splintered.

“Year after year, I waited. The townspeople didn’t recognize me. The same children I had once imprisoned brought me food and water. I was patient. Then, one day, I heard of the three children who had come to the house across the river. I had long ago discovered the hidden passages in the walls; unnoticed, I slipped in, I crept along, I watched, and there I saw you, my beautiful Katrina, not a day, not a moment, older.…”

She was close now, her sour breath washing over Kate’s face.

“Give me the Atlas.”

Kate hesitated. Should she scream? Would anyone hear her?

“I know what you’re thinking, my dove. But your Dr. Pym won’t hear you. He’s too far away. You know who will hear you? Little Michael and Emma. They’ll come running. And I will make you watch as I kill them both! I’ve waited too long—give me the Atlas!”

From the folds of her shawl, the crone drew a long, rusty-toothed knife. Kate let her eyes go to the knife’s edge, then back to the hag’s eyes.

“Promise you won’t hurt Michael or Emma.”

“Please”—she smiled horribly—“I’m not a monster.”

“And you’ll leave right after.”

“Like I was never here.”

“Okay, then.”

Kate turned and reached under the mattress. She had no intention of handing over the book. She merely wanted the witch to think she’d won so that her guard would relax. Gripping the book’s cover, Kate stood up suddenly, spinning around, swinging the leather-bound tome with all her might at the Countess’s head—

The old woman’s hand shot up and caught the book. They stood like that, Kate holding one end, the Countess the other, her nails digging into the emerald cover.

The witch began cackling. “Tricky little girl. Not so trusting anymore, are we? Fortunately, the Countess is stronger than she looks. Now—LET! GO!”

The Countess gave a terrific yank, and Kate’s hands slipped. But it was too much; the crone lost her balance, and the book fell, landing open upon the floor. Kate and the witch both dove for it—

Then the Countess was clawing at the book, hissing, jabbing her knife at Kate’s face, and Kate was leaning back, her fingers locked over an open page, refusing to let go, refusing to let this woman win, and as the blade came toward her, Kate did the only thing she could think of. Closing her eyes, she reached for the magic in the book with every fiber of her being, and prayed that Dr. Pym was right.

She felt the tug immediately. Strange as it seemed, Kate had the sense that the Atlas, and the power inside it, had been waiting for her all this time. But the thrill only lasted a second; then it was as if she was cast in the middle of a great ocean, far from the sight of land. The Countess was still with her, but only as a presence. Kate started to feel herself sinking, and she realized that she could just disappear, vanish into time itself. Maybe that was okay, maybe that’s what was meant to happen. But then, as she had in the bedroom, she found herself remembering being held by her mother, remembering how her mother had recognized her, and a flame of pure love sparked in her breast. In that moment, the rest of what Dr. Pym had said came back to her.

Before she could access the book’s power, her heart needed to heal.

Okay, she thought, imagine you have a photograph. Tell the book where to go.

The next moment, she was blinking in the sunlight, standing on the roof of a building in a brown, sun-baked city. Red dust hung in the air while shouts rose from the street below. The Countess had fallen to her knees, gasping for breath. Her knife lay on the ground, and Kate kicked it away.

“How did you … how did you do that?”

“I don’t need a photograph anymore. The Atlas just does what I want.”

“No, it’s not possible.…”

“Really? Look around. Seems pretty possible to me.”

“But you can’t—”

“Actually, I think I always could. I just wasn’t ready. Dr. Pym knew that. He told me the book wouldn’t listen to me till my heart was healed.” Kate was speaking more to herself than to the Countess. She needed to say aloud what she now knew. “Imagine having one question at the center of your life, and until you answer that question, you’ll always be lost. For me, it was wondering if our parents had really loved us. How could they, when they’d abandoned us? But when you helped me go back in time, my mother knew who I was. She recognized me as her daughter. I’ll never question her love again. It’s like knowing where north is. Whatever happens, I’ll have that to guide me.”

The Countess had struggled to her feet. Her once-violet eyes were black with hatred. Kate wasn’t scared anymore. In fact, she felt a remarkable sense of calm.

“It’s funny, if you hadn’t sent me back in time, I never would’ve figured that out. Though then again, I’m pretty sure Dr. Pym planned it all from the moment he gave me the memory of my mother. I’ll have to ask him when I see him.”

“Child, I am going to rip—”

Her threat was cut short by an explosion in a nearby street. The Countess whirled about.

“Where are we? Where have you brought us?”

Kate shrugged. “I forget the name of the city. It’s the one you told me about, where the council of magicians first wrote the Books. You said it was destroyed by Alexander the Great. I told the Atlas to take us there.”

“You brought us to Rhakotis?”

“I guess.”

“You foolish girl! Look!”

The Countess pointed one long, crooked finger, and Kate turned. Behind her stretched an endless blue sea, shining in the sun, and upon it were thousands and thousands of ships. Kate could hear drums sounding across the water, and as she watched, balls of flame shot up from the decks of the closest ships. The missiles crashed about the city; in the space of a few seconds, a dozen fires were raging all about them. Kate could hear people screaming as they ran for safety.

“We must go! Help me, and I will help you! You have power. I see that now. The Atlas has claimed you! But you have no idea what lies ahead! Help me, and I will help you!”

“Why would I need your help?”

“Because I know my master. He is always searching. For you and your brother and sister! For the Books! The Dire Magnus will find you!”

At the mention of his name, Kate imagined she heard the violin. She knew it was only in her head, but even so, the memory of the music chilled her. The Countess lunged closer.

“You have seen him! You know he will break your magician like a twig and then you will all become his slaves! I can help! Help you get the other two Books! Don’t you see that is your only hope? He will never stop searching! You must get the Books first!”

“We’ll hide—”

The old woman hissed and waved her gnarled hand dismissively. “Hide? For how long? Your entire lives? He’ll find you! He’ll find you, and through you he’ll find the Books, and then he will ravage this world! I have told you what the Books can do! And”—she paused, leering—“I would have thought you cared more for your parents.”

Kate’s heart lurched in her chest; she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“What … what do you mean?”

The Countess smiled, sensing she had gained the upper hand. “So, the wizard hasn’t told you yet? Too bad, too bad. But I still have my old ear to the ground, don’t I? Especially when it comes to mon petit oiseau. Ten years ago, the Dire Magnus finally tracked you and little Michael and Emma down.”

“But how …”

“The prophecy, of course! There were signs. But the wizard was too fast. Spirited you away. Your sweet parents, not so lucky! No, no, not so lucky at all.” She came closer. “Ten years now, ten years your loving parents have been the prisoners of the Dire Magnus!”

“You’re lying.”

“Oh, be nice to think so, wouldn’t it? But you know I’m not! The Dire Magnus has your parents, and the only way you’ll get them back is to find the other two Books first! For that, you need the Countess’s help!”

Her parents were prisoners. That was why they’d never come for them. Terrible as it was, Kate felt a strange sense of relief; her own history finally made sense.

There was a ripping in the air, and Kate and the Countess both looked and saw another fiery salvo, even larger than the last, erupting from the ships. The city was doomed. The Countess seized Kate’s arm.

“Now! Take me back! I am your only hope!”

But Kate shook her head and said, simply, “No. You stay.”

She wrenched her arm free at the same time as she reached for the magic. The last thing she saw was the Countess flying at her as the sky around them filled with fire.

A second later, Kate was standing in the bedroom, alone, holding the emerald-green book.

“Hey! What’re you doing? I thought you were hiding that.” Emma was at the door. “Are you okay?”

Kate realized she was holding her breath. She exhaled.

“I’m fine. I just—Emma, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Her sister had tears in her eyes.

“You gotta come, Kate! You gotta see!”