“Your brother, Emil,” Matt said. “When did he die, exactly?”
“September 3, 1864,” Nobel said.
“And you boarded the Vermillion how long after?”
“I can’t say precisely. A few months, perhaps.”
Matt nodded. He could work with estimates. It was dark now. Through the window, Matt could see the twinkling lights of the jumbled city. Matt thanked Mr. Nobel and said that he and Jia should be on their way, but Marta wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted that they stay the night and would not accept no for an answer.
Matt looked to Jia. She was bleary-eyed. Her entire body sagged. She looked like she could fall asleep standing up.
With all that had happened, Matt knew he should be exhausted, too, but he wasn’t. Every cell in his body seemed to be alert and energized, ready for action. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest. There was too much to do.
Nobel fixed them a meal of potatoes and sausages and greens. Matt didn’t realize how hungry he was until he started eating, and then it was like he couldn’t stop. Disassembling himself took a lot of energy, apparently.
They didn’t talk very much as they ate, though Marta looked at Matt with such a piercing gaze, he had a feeling she knew exactly what he was about to do. It was possible, he realized, that she knew everything that was about to happen even more than he did.
After dinner, Nobel showed Matt and Jia to a room where they could sleep. Jia yawned and flopped down on the bed, her eyes drooping. She fell asleep within seconds.
Matt immediately prepared to leave. He hated to leave Jia behind. He knew she would be furious with him, but this was a mission only he could perform, and he had to do it now, before it was too late.
He turned, ready to dissolve himself, but came face-to-face with Marta. She was standing in the doorway, staring at him with her ghostly eyes. Matt put a finger to his lips. She mimicked him, and then he disappeared.
26
Self-Destruct
He traveled back to September 3, 1864, the day Emil Nobel died in the explosion. As Matt suspected, it had been no accident. Brocco had set their stores of nitroglycerin on fire, causing it to heat above the temperature required for stability.
Nobel, brooding over his brother’s death, moved to Paris, and a few months later, Captain Vincent appeared with his promises to save Emil. Nobel boarded the Vermillion and commenced his work for Captain Vincent. Matt, traveling through the time tapestry, watched him try different chemical combinations, different materials.
Every day, Captain Vincent ran his experiments. He experimented on people who they picked up at different times, and sometimes animals, whatever Brocco and Wiley were willing to bring on board—mice and rats, dogs, cats, and chickens. They, too, had time tapestries. It seemed all living things did. Matt could tell that Santiago, Captain Vincent’s pet rat, did not like this one bit, especially when they experimented on the rats. Captain Vincent didn’t seem to care about the feelings of the rat. Only the time tapestries. He wanted to destroy them completely, but at the end of each experiment, no matter how he burned, sliced, or shredded the time tapestries, some semblance of it still remained. The creature might disappear from sight, but they could also reappear at random, which was not at all what the captain wanted. He wanted complete erasure. Total nonexistence. This, Matt realized, was what Captain Vincent had done to the two people whose time tapestry remains he held. Somehow, he’d managed to erase them. Or so it seemed. But what if it wasn’t what it seemed? What if there were other forces at play?
At night, while Nobel and the rest of the ship slept, Matt, still invisible in his disassembled state, slipped into the cabin where Nobel slept with all the stores of dynamite. He moved around the dynamite, spilling his cells over and around it. What he was about to do would either be the most brilliant thing he’d ever done, or the most idiotic.
Here goes nothing, he thought to himself.
Matt poured himself into the piles of dynamite, infusing his separated cells into all the nitroglycerin. It felt cold and hot at the same time. It was disorienting at first. His cells went a bit berserk, like eggs thrown on a hot frying pan. They seemed to sizzle and pop, and he did feel like maybe he was burning, but he didn’t die. At least he didn’t think he did. He remained aware and himself. And here he waited.
The next morning, Captain Vincent requested more experiments. Nobel wearily brought his crate of dynamite to the deck of the ship. Matt moved with it. His senses were a bit dulled. He couldn’t see much in this state, his cells all separated amongst the several sticks of dynamite, but he could tell that Brocco brought the captain a black top hat and inside was some furry white creature. “Thought we could make the rabbit disappear inside the hat! You know, like a magician?”
A rabbit. They were going to experiment on the rabbit.
“No need for theatrics, Brocco,” Captain Vincent said. “This isn’t a magic show.”
“Seems like a magic show to me,” Wiley said, puffing on his pipe. Matt couldn’t see the pipe, but the sweet scent of the smoke seeped into his cells inside the dynamite.
Captain Vincent pulled the time tapestry from the rabbit. He wrapped a stick of dynamite inside the time tapestry.
“Light her up,” Captain Vincent said.
Nobel struck a match and lit the wick. When it caught and started to burn, Matt’s cells immediately contracted, like he was recoiling from imminent pain.
“Back up!” Nobel called. They all quickly backed away from the rabbit, its time tapestry, and the dynamite.
When the dynamite went off, Matt exploded with it.
27
Don’t Let Go
Being blown up from inside of dynamite felt like shooting off in a rocket, or more like a trillion rockets all shooting off in different directions. It was hot, disorienting, and completely wild. Yet, Matt was still connected, still part of the whole. He could still feel the rest of his cells pulsing in the other sticks of dynamite.
He was connected to the rabbit, too, or its time tapestry. When the dynamite had blown up the tapestry, Matt’s cells attached to its unraveling threads, clinging to them like drops of water on a spider’s web. When he moved his cells through the air, the threads moved with him. He could feel the essence of the rabbit, its existence, its feelings and desires, almost as if he were the rabbit. He pulled all the threads into himself, taking the white rabbit’s existence right along with him.
From above, still invisible, Matt looked down at the rest of the Vermillion. They were all fragmented in his mind’s eye, but he could see that the rabbit had disappeared. The black top hat was empty.
“Crikey!” Brocco said, staring into the hat. “It all disappeared this time, Captain! Just like magic!” He popped the hat onto his head and grinned, his diamond tooth sparkling in the morning light.
The captain was very pleased. “Well done, Mr. Nobel,” he said.
Nobel was scratching his head, clearly confused.
“If it works on the Hudsons,” Captain Vincent said, “you will have your brother back, as promised.”
The Hudsons . . . the name sparked something in Matt, a small thread of memory. He couldn’t quite reach it.
The Vermillion traveled, and Matt went with it. Most of him traveled inside the dynamite, though part of him followed along outside, carrying the unraveled threads of the rabbit’s time tapestry. The travel was chaotic. They seemed to be bouncing throughout time, chasing something or someone. Matt didn’t have much sense for time or place. Captain Vincent used more of the dynamite, and whenever he did, Matt’s cells exploded with it and attached themselves to the unraveling time tapestries.
He was swimming in a sea of glowing threads now, the remnants of those Captain Vincent had unraveled. He did not know who they were, and he was not sure he could take them all with him. He could feel his cells were tiring out. But as he swept through the threads he felt a pull, like some of the threads had a magnetic energy attracted to his own. They wrapped around him, wove th
emselves into him. He recognized their energy. It was the same as those scraps of time tapestry he’d been carrying. Perhaps they recognized the remnants of themselves.
Matt pulled on those threads. He gathered every last strand, wrapped them in and around himself like a cocoon. It all felt so warm and safe, familiar. By the time he’d gathered it all, he was exhausted. He knew there were more threads, but he couldn’t get it all now. What energy he had left he needed to pull himself back together. Otherwise he feared he might be stuck in his disassembled state forever. So he would have to leave some of the other threads behind, and that meant he needed to leave part of himself behind. He would have to come back to it later.
He traveled back to Sweden, to Jia, and Mr. Nobel, and Marta. Marta must have known what he was going to do, because she seemed to be waiting for him when he returned. She was standing in the middle of the room, looking up toward where he was hovering in his invisible state.
Matt slowly pulled himself together. It was difficult, so much harder than it had been before. It felt like all his cells were moving through a thick gel. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to come back together without letting go of all the threads he’d carried with him.
Don’t let go!
He didn’t let go. He could feel inside these threads the existence of people he needed, people he loved. He clung to them and pulled. It felt like wading neck-deep through a thick swamp, then climbing a sheer cliff. Every cell was trembling with the effort. He was grasping a narrow ledge of the cliff by his fingertips. He felt himself slipping, the threads falling away.
Don’t let go!
He found his grip again. He mustered every last quark of energy in every last cell he possessed. He pulled, and pulled, and pulled. Slowly, slowly his cells went back into their proper order, and as they did, those threads he’d clung to so fiercely began to pull through and separate from him, coiling in glossy strands on the floor. Marta instantly grabbed them and began to weave with impossible speed. It was as though she’d been practicing for this very moment. Her tiny hands flew, tying knots and loops with the iridescent threads. As she worked, Matt felt things changing, like threads were being woven together inside of himself, holes he didn’t even know existed being filled.
As Marta wove, Matt continued to pull himself together, but still he held tight. To what, he wasn’t sure. Something important, or someone. He just knew he wasn’t supposed to let go.
When he was all back together again, he fell to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. He felt like he’d nearly drowned. He was disoriented. He was trembling all over. He wasn’t even sure where he was.
“Matt?” He looked up to see Jia, sleepy-eyed, peering down at him from her bed. “What happened? Are you—” And then she gasped and covered her mouth.
Matt looked down at himself. He was still a bit blurry, like he hadn’t been able to pull all of himself together. Except his hands. His hands were solid and in sharp focus, and they were firmly grasping on to something. Or someone. Two someones.
Matt looked to his right and to his left. He closed his eyes and opened them again to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination or a dream. Lying on either side of him, grasping tight to each of Matt’s hands, was a boy and a girl.
It all came back to him in an instant, like a tsunami of memories crashing over his brain. Memories of scavenger hunts and picnics in Central Park, birthday parties, baseball games, and trips to museums. Running down Fifth Avenue after school, the smell of hot dogs and gyros and garbage and exhaust. Memories of arguments and shouting and games and laughter. And love. There was overwhelming love threaded through every single memory. All this spread through him like wildfire, burning up any fears or doubts. He was not lost. He was not alone. He had a brother and sister, and they were here.
“Corey? Ruby?”
Corey flopped over and groaned. He sat up and shook his head, so dust flew off his shaggy hair. “What just happened? It felt like I was melting or something.”
“We’re still here,” Ruby said, holding up her free hand in front of her face. Matt hadn’t let go of her other hand. “We’re still here. I’m not dead. Or am I? Are we dead?” She wiggled her fingers, then felt her face.
“You’re not dead,” Matt breathed, still staring at his brother and sister, not quite believing any of his senses. But they were back. Real, solid, alive Corey and Ruby. “You’re not dead!” he shouted. His heart swelled nearly to bursting. He felt lighter than air. He was trembling so much, he thought he might fall apart again, but he needed to hold himself together so he could attack Corey and Ruby with a hug. And he did. He wrapped his arms around both of them and knocked them back down to the floor. He hugged them as tight as he could. They were so real. He was never going to let go. If he could, he would weld all three of them together and they’d stay like that forever.
“Oof! Matt, get off of me!” Ruby said.
“Dude, what is your deal?” Corey said. “And why do you smell like fireworks?”
“It’s dynamite,” Matt said. “I blew myself up!”
“Huh—What now?”
“Matt, I can’t breathe!” Ruby cried.
Matt still didn’t want to let go, but he had to reason that suffocating his brother and sister would be counterproductive to his goals. He released them, and Corey shoved him away. He fell back against the bed where Jia was still gaping at the impossible scene before her. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes and blinked a few times.
“Corey? Ruby? Is that really you?” Jia stumbled out of bed.
“It’s us,” Ruby said. “But I’m not sure what just happened.”
“Matt’s gone crazy, that’s what just happened.” Corey rubbed at his shoulder where Brocco had shot him. Matt must have aggravated the wound with his hug attack. He only felt a little bit bad about it.
“Where are we anyway?” Ruby asked, looking around. “This isn’t our apartment. And this isn’t New York, is it?” She was looking out the window. “Oh, but maybe it is. Is that the Empire State Building? Where’s Mom and Dad and everyone else?”
“They’re not here right now,” Matt said.
“What did you do?” Corey said in a growling voice. Matt winced, his joy dissipating ever so slightly at the anger on his brother’s face, the bewilderment on Ruby’s. Matt recalled the moments before Corey and Ruby had disappeared. They’d been fighting. They’d just found out Marius Quine and Matt were the same person and believed he was on Vincent’s side. There had been such confusion and anger. Corey had attacked Matt, and then everything had happened so quickly. It appeared no time had passed for Corey and Ruby since that moment, and Matt had to rewind his brain to meet them where they were at.
“I know everything is confusing right now,” Matt said. “And I know I owe you some explanations.”
“More than some,” Corey said.
“Where did Pike come from?” Ruby said. “Last time we saw her she had gone with Captain Vincent on the Vermillion.”
“And what is she doing?” Corey asked. “What’s that stuff she’s playing with?”
Marta was standing in the corner of the room. She was still weaving together more of the time tapestry threads that Matt had carried with him from the dynamite explosions. A shadow began to form, faint and blurred at first, and then slowly it grew sharper and more defined, something small. A minute later a white rabbit appeared. It looked to be the same one that Captain Vincent had first experimented on with the dynamite.
Marta squealed with delight. She swooped the rabbit up in her arms. “Kanin!” she said, which Matt assumed was Swedish for rabbit.
Corey and Ruby both stared in amazement.
“Wait, Pike talks?” Corey asked.
“Only Swedish,” Jia said. “Her real name is Marta Nobel.”
“Nobel?” Ruby said. “As in . . .”
Ruby stopped talking as creaking footsteps sounded from outside their door. A moment later the door flew open. It was Mr. Nobel. He was wearing an old-fashio
ned nightgown and a cap. Definitely not twenty-first-century pajamas.
“What is all this noise you are making? I am trying to sleep!” Nobel stopped short, seeing that there were two new strangers in his home.
“Dude,” Corey said. “It’s Ebenezer Scrooge!”
“Kanin!” Marta said again, holding up the rabbit and beaming at her uncle.
Mr. Nobel went red in the face. “Would someone care to explain what the devil is going on?”
“I’d like to know the same thing,” Jia said, folding her arms and giving Matt a steely look that made him flinch.
“Me too,” Ruby said. She rested a hand on the hilt of her sword as though she thought she might need to fight.
“Me three,” Corey said. “Time to spill your guts, Marius Quine.”
28
Hinges
Everyone started asking questions, and they pelted Matt like a hailstorm.
“What are we doing here?”
“Where’s Mom and Dad? And Gaga and Haha and Uncle Chuck?”
“Where did you go? How did you get Corey and Ruby back?”
“Kanin!”
“Why does my niece have a rabbit?”
“Matt, why are you so blurry?”
Matt could hardly process what anyone was saying. He was too excited. He was still trembling, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Corey and Ruby were back. Corey and Ruby were back! The fog that had hovered over his mind for however long had cleared.
“Matt, are you listening to us?” Corey asked. “What is going on?”
Matt put up his hands. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Just please be patient.”
Corey grumbled and muttered something under his breath. Matt was sure it was something about how he hated being patient. Ruby lightly slapped his arm. “We can be patient.”
“Yeah,” Corey said. “But make it quick.”
The Forbidden Lock Page 27