The Passage to Mythrin 2-Book Bundle (14 page)

Simon had a disturbing idea. “Your headache. Like when the Assassin was reading your mind?” He looked around uneasily.

“No. This is like my head's breaking into pieces and crashing back together again.” She squeezed her eyes
shut. “I think I'm starting to remember something about that first night. I keep getting these images...”

“Maybe going through that passage unscrambled your brain,” Ike said. “I wish I could remember. Or maybe not, if it hurts like that.”

Simon lifted his head. “Funny!”

“What?” Ike spun around in a panic.

“I can smell fresh air.” A tiny breeze lifted a strand of Simon's hair. “There must be a way out of here. Forwards, I mean, not backwards.”

Ammy sniffed. “I wonder what we'd find outside?”

“Let's follow the fresh air and find out where it comes from.”

“But Mara warned us,” Ike began. “Still, we haven't seen anything to be scared of yet. Not even a librarian, or whoever would be in charge here.”

“I vote we explore.” Simon's hand shot up. “Cautiously.”

“I vote the same,” Ammy said.

Ike hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Cautiously.”

They followed the scent of fresh air between the towering shelves. Every time they came to a gap between the shelves on the left, they stepped through.

“See? We can't get lost,” Simon said. “We're always turning left.”

A few paces farther on they came to a gap twice as wide as any of the others. They stepped through, Simon
leading, and found a clear space about twenty paces wide. And then a reddish brown wall. In the wall was an archway, with stairs leading down into darkness. Standing at the top they could just make out a landing, and below that more steps disappearing down to the right.

“What's down there?” Simon wondered aloud.

“Sh!” Ammy breathed. “We don't know
who's
down there.”

Ike stepped back a pace. “Wonder if my dad's worried yet.”

“It can't be that late,” Simon said. “We haven't been here all that long.”

“I've lost track.” Ike took a shaky breath. “Suppose we go back and, like, centuries have passed?”

A river of cool air flowed up the stairs. It carried an earthy, rocky, grassy, unmistakably outdoorsy smell. “I wonder if we could see the stars out there.” Simon took a step down. “If we could, maybe we could tell where we are.”

“They would look different, wouldn't they?” Ammy said. “Strange stars. Or if it's day, a strange sun.” She stepped down beside him.

“A new world. Maybe a different universe.” Simon's heart thumped. He exchanged a scared, excited look with Ammy and they took the next step together.

“Um, I don't think...” said Ike, from the top of the stairs.

“C'mon, Ike!” Simon called. “You'll kick yourself for the rest of your life if you don't.”

“Sh! Listen!”

Halfway down the flight, they stood still and listened. Below the landing, where they couldn't see, someone was climbing the stairs towards them.

Simon opened his mouth to call out, then closed it again. There was something in the sounds that he didn't like. Whatever was climbing the stairs was heavy and had feet with long nails. It was climbing carefully, as if not to be heard, but its nails clicked on the hard surface of the stairs.

Ammy said nothing, but she gathered a handful of Simon's jacket at the shoulder and tugged. He followed her silently back up the stairs and across the bare space and through the gap in the shelves. Ike was well ahead of them.

At first they tiptoed. But after a few minutes Simon realized there was no use trying to be quiet. The newcomer (the librarian? the door guard?) knew they were here and it (he? she?) was following them. It was walking even more quietly than they were, but it couldn't help making the floor tremble. Glass jars tinkled together on the shelves.

“Better speed up,” Simon murmured.

They started off walking fast, but soon they were running — Ike in the lead, then Ammy, clutching the
book to her chest, then Simon. Not far behind, a row of books crashed to the ground. The newcomer must be running too, its body scraping the shelves on both sides.

They leaped through a gap one after the other and passed the silver box with the open lid. “We're close!” Ike gasped.

Simon looked ahead and saw the jar with the ferocious little specimen inside. At the same moment feet with hard nails scrabbled the floor behind and he knew it had squeezed through the gap and seen them.

He didn't look back. No time. “Ammy! Get the door open!” As he reached the jar he slowed down half a second to grab it in both hands.

Ammy and Ike burst from the row of shelves and across the bare triangle towards the painted door. Simon saw Ammy reach out with the ring. He tossed the jar backwards over his head.

Simon expected a crash and a stink, but instead there was a crunch and something made a noise like the gears of a car grinding together. The footsteps behind him lost their galloping rhythm.

The door on the wall came to life, glowed, and flared. Ike looked back. “Simon, c'mon!” he yelled. Ammy, beside him, glanced back and froze.

Simon didn't waste his breath shouting. He piled into Ike and Ike barged into Ammy and they fell into the shining blue tunnel in a tangle of arms and legs.

§

Amelia's head was full of blue light. It hurt. She whimpered and tried to open her eyes. Saw rough grey rock. So they were back, safe and sound. Great.

“You okay?” Simon's voice boomed in her ear.

Her head whirled with jagged bits of images broken up by rays of dazzling blue light. A shape was forming out of the jumble. There was something about that shape. She felt she would recognize it if she could just get a good look.

“What's the matter?” Booming voice again.

“Head.” She drew up her knees and buried her face on her crossed arms. That shape... Relax. Let it come.
The way it came from the cave mouth, bending low, then rising up, with the blue light streaming out around it like a crown.

“I'm one big bruise,” Simon announced, farther away. “But we're all in one piece, right? Ike?”

“I'm okay. Hey, my watch is working again — 4:53! Yours?”

“The same. Looks like we just picked up where we left off.”

And leaped. Across the gorge. No, not leaped. Sailed. Glided.

“I wonder what time it really is?” Simon again.

“Well, there you go.” A distant bonging drifted from the cave entrance. “That's the clock in the town hall.”

Shining like a cloud of jewels. Rubies, floating overhead. So beautiful. So...

“Two ... three...” They counted together. “Four ... five...” The bonging stopped.

“Five o'clock,” Ike said. “So, all that took us only eight minutes! That's if this is the same day we started, and not twenty years from now.”

“We were in there a lot longer than eight minutes,” Simon said. “Ammy? What d'you — um, are you okay?”

Rubies sparkled overhead. Lightning tore at her mind, tore bits of it away. Something thudded to the ground a few feet away.

Amelia opened her eyes. They stood over her like gawkers at a car crash. Simon held the book under one arm. She felt like her heart was being squeezed in half.

She pushed herself up to her knees, then lurched to her feet. Head not so bad now. Now that the picture was complete.

“I'm just wonderful.”

Even Ike didn't look as if he believed that, but neither of them disagreed.

Nobody suggested waiting to find out if anything interesting might come out of the cave after them, and nobody dawdled as they climbed down the cliff and slithered among the rocks and ice to the path up to Deacon Street. As Simon climbed out at the top of the path, the last in line, he took a look back along the gorge, where the rocks and ice gleamed pink in the afterglow of sunset. He let out a sigh of relief.

“That was some watchdog,” Ike said. “I don't see how anything that big could have chased us between those shelves.”

“What kind of thing was it?” Simon asked.

“I had a split-second look, that's all. It was big and the front end was all teeth.”

“Only eight minutes.” Simon shook his head. “Are we sure it really happened?”

“We have this for proof.” Ike tapped the book. “A genuine alien artifact!”

“That's right!” Simon bounced as he walked. “We'll make history! We...” He looked at Amelia. “Oh, right,” he said flatly. “We have to take it to Mara. It's hers.”

Such a pair of kids,
she thought. “Yeah, we better. Because now I know what Mara is.”

Her right hand went into her pocket. The ring was there, hard and warm. The pulse in her thumb flickered against the stone. It was like a friend's hand in hers.
Liar
.

§

I'll be cool
, Amelia promised herself as she led the way up Founders Tower.
I'll just hand the things over and say, “Fine, you got what you came for, so long, goodbye.”

She half hoped the platform would be deserted when they reached it. But Mara was there, still sitting
against the parapet, like she hadn't moved a muscle while they were away risking their lives in another dimension.

“Well, here we are,” Amelia said, and was surprised to hear herself sounding so normal.

Mara opened her eyes. “You are not hurt?”

“Like you care?”

Mara's head went up. “You are angry. Why?”

“Why not just rummage in my mind and find out?”

Mara looked at her. In the twilight it was impossible to read her face. Light from somewhere reflected off her eyes and made two glowing green spots in the gloom.
Monster,
Amelia thought. Simon was pulling at her arm. She ignored him.

“You remember,” Mara said.

“Yeah, I remember. I know what you are and what you did to me.”

“That was...” Mara pulled herself up and leaned against the parapet. Amelia felt a twinge of pity and stifled it. “Accident,” Mara finished. “I was afraid.”

“Right, like the other night, when you ran off to fight the Assassin, and blasted my mind so I couldn't see what you really looked like!”

“No! I just ... made a little light in front, so you not see. I did not want you hurt.”

“Oh, yeah?” Amelia laughed. “So that's why you sent us to get that book? We just missed being eaten!
That's what it's all been about, right? You get in my mind and, and make me” — I won't cry. I won't! — “do things for you, risk my life to get that — that stupid book. Well, here it is. Take it and go away. Give it to her, Simon.”

She turned and groped for the doorway. Where was the darn stair?

“Amelia!” And in her mind, faintly:
Amelia!
She whirled around.

“Get out of my mind! I thought you were — I thought — thought you were my friend. And all the time it was this, wasn't it?” She held out her fist. “You used it to control me.”

“That?” Mara straightened up. “It has no power. Only against me.”

“You
made
me like you!” Her fingers hurt. She unclenched them. The ruby ring had cut into the skin. She hurled it at Mara, who scooped it out of the air without looking at it.

“I have no words,” Mara said in a strange, small voice. “Right, like you haven't been scraping out my entire vocabulary!”

“I —” Mara began, but Amelia didn't stay to listen. She wondered, later, how she made it to the bottom of the stairs without breaking her neck.

§

Simon let his breath out slowly. He'd been afraid Mara would get really mad and do something violent, but she stayed put the whole time Ammy was ranting and only moved when Ammy crashed down the stairs. Then she oozed back down the parapet and sat.

“So what was all that about?” Ike asked from the top of the stairs, poised for a quick retreat.

Mara said nothing. “I think Ammy remembers what happened, the night of the blue flare,” Simon said.

“But we were there too. How come we don't get our memories back?”

“It was not well done,” Mara muttered.

Simon decided not to ask any questions. There was something about Mara that made him go on tiptoe. “Um, here's the book.” He held it out. She raised her head and looked, then lifted a hand. “Bring. And after, do not touch me.”

After what?
He wondered. He set it down on the stone floor beside her. Too dark to read, he thought, but she opened the book and turned the pages. Stopped — he couldn't see where — and set her hand down firmly.

For about two minutes there was silence. He'd forgotten how quiet it gets at night in winter. No bird sounds, not even a crow. The wind had fallen. He heard his own breathing, and Ike's, and the faint creak
of the tower's timbers down the stairwell. A bitter, burned smell hung in the icy air. He thought it came from the book.

Mara gave herself a shake. She closed the book and pushed it away. “I must go home. My brother is winning. My people are dying.” She started to haul herself up the parapet again. Simon found himself at her side, trying to hold her up and push her down simultaneously. She was all thin bones and papery skin and muscles like tree roots.

“You can't go back like that! You'll only get yourself killed!”

She went still. “And then they will truly despair. Yes. You are wise.” She slid back down.

“There's a clinic here in Dunstone. Let me bring help.”

“No. I heal myself.” She pulled up her knees, wrapped her arms around them, and bent her head. Her hair fell like a glinting curtain. “I go home tomorrow,” said her muffled voice.