by P. G. Bell
“No,” said Suzy. “You’re thinking of Lady Crepuscula. She lives in the Obsidian Tower.”
“Then who’s this Lady Meridian?” her dad asked.
“She lives in the Ivory Tower,” said Suzy. “The one inside the moon. With the library in it. Remember?” She could see her mom gathering herself for an argument, and braced herself, only to be interrupted by her dad.
“So there are two towers?” he said.
“Yes,” Suzy replied.
“And two Ladies?”
Suzy looked between him and her mom, and felt some of the fight go out of her. She sighed. “Look, Dad, it’s really simple. Lady Crepuscula is in charge of the Obsidian Tower. It’s big, it’s black, and it’s a prison for the most dangerous criminals in the Impossible Places. The living statues are sort of like prison guards.”
“I’m with you so far,” he replied. “Carry on.”
“Lady Meridian is in charge of the Ivory Tower,” said Suzy. “It’s big, it’s white, it’s inside the moon, and it’s the largest library anywhere in existence. It contains all the knowledge of the Impossible Places, and my friend Frederick works there. He’s the Chief Librarian.”
“But didn’t you say something about an old man running the place?” said her dad. “Or did I imagine that?”
Suzy screwed her eyes shut. Had either of her parents really listened to a single thing she’d told them?
“That was Lord Meridian,” she said. “He used to be in charge of the Ivory Tower, but he was evil and we helped overthrow him. The new Lady Meridian used to be his head of security. Her real name’s Neoma.”
“And she wants us there on the double,” said Wilmot, edging toward the fridge. “I don’t know exactly what’s happened, but she says the future of the Ivory Tower is in jeopardy. Apparently we’re the only people who can help.”
Stonker jumped to his feet. “Well, why the blazes didn’t you say so?” He turned to Suzy’s parents and bowed so low that the tips of his mustache brushed the floor. “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, it’s been a pleasure.”
Ursel pushed away from the table, although the movement did more to push the table away from her. It shuddered across the kitchen, its legs squealing against the floor, forcing Suzy’s parents to scramble clear.
“Hhhrownf,” Ursel growled.
“Ursel thanks you for your hospitality,” said Stonker. “And says you have a lovely home.”
“Um … she’s welcome,” said Suzy’s mom, with a faltering smile.
“I’ll just take a few of these to be gettin’ on with,” said Fletch, stuffing sausage rolls and a slice of pizza into his pockets. “Lovely spread, by the way. Really good grub, that.”
Suzy jumped up. “Wait for me,” she said.
“Oh, no you don’t, young lady,” said her mother. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Suzy skidded to a halt in the doorway. “But you heard Wilmot,” she said. “The Ivory Tower needs us!”
Her mom folded her arms and drew herself up to her full height, which was only an inch or so taller than Suzy. She had a knack of making it feel ten times as much, though. “You’re grounded, remember?”
Suzy’s face fell. “But, Moooooom!”
“Your mother’s right, Suzy,” said her dad. “She and I still need to reach a final decision about all this magic business. Until then, we don’t want you running off anywhere without us.”
“But, Dad!” Suzy was aghast.
“No more buts, said her mom. “Your parents’ decision is final.”
Stonker cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should just see ourselves out,” he said, shuffling discreetly toward the fridge.
“Wait,” said Suzy as a new idea broke across her mind. “Take us all with you.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Stonker.
Suzy turned back to her parents. “How about it?” she said. “Come on a delivery with me.”
Her parents looked at one another in bemusement. “We can’t do that,” said her mom.
“Why not?” asked Suzy. “The whole point of this dinner was to help you get to know the crew and find out what life on the Express is like. But this is even better! Come with me to the Ivory Tower and you can find out for yourselves.”
Her father was wavering already. “Go to the moon…,” he said, with a faraway look in his eyes. “Just like Neil Armstrong.”
“Better than Neil Armstrong,” said Suzy. “Because he didn’t get to look around inside it.” She waggled her eyebrows in what she hoped was an encouraging fashion.
“Oh, no you don’t,” said her mom, stepping between them and breaking the spell. “I can see what you’re doing, Suzanne Smith. Don’t think you can get around me by using your father, just because he’s a bit lax.”
“Hey!” said Suzy’s dad. “I am not lax. I’m just giving Suzy’s proposal the consideration it deserves, rather than dismissing it out of hand.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” said Suzy’s mom, rounding on him.
“Well, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to keep our daughter safe.”
The others were shuffling discreetly toward the fridge now, and Suzy was beginning to wish the floor would open up and swallow her. Or maybe swallow her parents. “Mom,” she said. “The Ivory Tower isn’t dangerous. It’s just a library, and anyway, you’d both be there to supervise me.” She gave her mother a hopeful smile. “You’re always telling me that experience is the best teacher. Remember?”
Suzy’s mom looked around the group of expectant faces. She pursed her lips. “I can’t go dressed like this,” she said.
“I don’t see why not,” said Stonker. “Suzy did.” He met Suzy’s frown with a mischievous smile. “But I can give you a few minutes to get changed, if you’d prefer.”
Suzy’s mom fixed him with a hard look. “I will be two minutes,” she said. “And don’t leave without me.”
“Upon my honor,” said Stonker.
“And you,” she said, turning to Fletch. “You’re not going anywhere until you get that boggart creature out of our plumbing.”
“Why?” he said. “It’s not doin’ any harm. You just need to remember to give the toilet bowl a kick before you sit down on it, that’s all.”
“Out. Of. Our. Plumbing,” said Suzy’s mom. “I’ll be right back.”
Suzy gave a silent sigh of relief as her mother hurried out of the kitchen. For a moment, she had felt close to losing everything. “Sorry, Fletch,” she said. “Do you think you’ll be able to get the boggart out without hurting it?”
“Yeah, should be fine,” said Fletch. “I know a bloke who can come and snake the drains.”
Suzy nodded, then frowned. “Please tell me that doesn’t involve actual snakes.”
“Nah, ’course not,” said Fletch. “Technically, they’re a species of multi-headed worm.”
“No,” said Suzy, firmly. “No more creatures in the plumbing. Isn’t there some other way to get it out?”
Fletch puffed out his cheeks. “I could probably whip up an ectoplasmic plunger,” he said. “Might take me a while, mind.”
“That’s fine,” said Suzy. “Take all the time you need.”
They all turned as her mom reentered the kitchen, dressed in a tracksuit and sneakers. She was carrying a coat hanger, from which hung a long red coat with elaborate gold brocade, a matching waistcoat, and black trousers.
“My postie’s uniform!” said Suzy.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” said her mom. “But if we’re going on a delivery, I suppose you’d better have it.” She handed the uniform to Suzy. “Are we ready?”
“We are now,” said Suzy. She hugged the uniform, savoring the feel of the heavy fabric against her face. “Let’s go.”
“High time,” said Stonker. “To the Ivory Tower!”
4
GOLD STAMP SPECIAL
Suzy always felt a few inches taller in her postal uniform, and she stepped out of the sorting carri
age’s storage cupboard with a flourish.
“Deputy Postal Operative Smith, reporting for duty,” she said, bracing herself against the rocking motion of the train as it sped across reality toward the Ivory Tower. The sorting carriage was a warm, homely place, lined with shelves and pigeonholes, all of which were filled with neatly ordered stacks of mail. Wilmot looked up from his desk in the center of it all, his eyes shining with excitement. He was holding a delivery form printed on shimmering gold paper. “Splendid!” he said. “This could be a very big day for us, Suzy. Neoma says her delivery is the most urgent thing we’ve ever had to handle. Absolute highest priority!”
“You mean we’re going to do an express delivery?” said Suzy. She had committed the various classes of delivery to memory before her parents had confiscated her copy of The Knowledge. “Door to door in five hours?”
“We could,” he replied. “But there’s one category even higher than that. A Gold Stamp Special! The rarest, most exclusive form of delivery a postie can make!” He waved the form at her.
“How come I’ve never heard of it?” asked Suzy. “It’s not mentioned in The Knowledge.”
“Because there have only been a handful in the entire history of the Impossible Postal Service,” said Wilmot. “My dad never had one. Not even my grandpa Honks.” His eyes went wide. “I’d be the first postie in my family ever to deliver one,” he said in an awed voice. “Mom will be so proud.”
“Wow,” said Suzy. “But what does Neoma need delivering that’s so important?”
Wilmot’s eyes snapped back into focus. “Oh. She didn’t actually tell me,” he said a little sheepishly. “But whatever it is, it’s eating the books at the Ivory Tower and they need to get rid of it immediately.”
“Eating them?” said Suzy, alarmed. “Is it some sort of creature?”
“I really don’t know,” said Wilmot. “But Neoma insisted that only the Express could help, and that if we didn’t stop whatever we were doing and get there immediately, she’d hunt us all down and grind us into goblin fodder.”
Suzy pulled a face. “It doesn’t sound like she’s changed much.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Wilmot. “There’s a chance she’s joking about the goblin fodder bit.” He pulled his satchel over his shoulder and slipped the form into it. “If we can deliver a Gold Stamp Special, we’ll each get a medal from the Postmaster General, and our names engraved on the Central Post Office wall of fame for future generations to admire!”
Suzy’s thoughts turned immediately to her parents. Surely a medal would be enough to convince them to let her continue as a postie? She’d had it all planned out in her head for days now—she could carry on at school, but join the crew at weekends and for a few weeks in the summer holidays, on the understanding that it wouldn’t affect her grades. This delivery could be just what she needed. “Have you seen my parents?” she asked.
“I think they’re in the cab with the others,” said Wilmot. “Let’s go and see.”
Thanks to a clever bit of dimensional engineering, the door in the wall behind Wilmot’s desk led directly into the locomotive’s cab, which was hot, humid, and full of noise. Part kitchen, part machine room, a twisted mass of pipes and valves covered the front wall, curving like tree roots around an ancient-looking hearth, in which a blue fire roared. As Suzy and Wilmot entered, Ursel was tossing a few bunches of bananas into the flames. They crackled and flared, and the whole train strained forward with a renewed burst of energy.
“Be ready to hit the ground running, ladies and gentlemen,” said Stonker. “We’re almost there.” He was darting feverishly around the various dials and levers protruding from the pipework, managing the boiler’s temperature, its pressure, and the locomotive’s speed.
Suzy looked around the cab. “I thought my parents were in here,” she said. Stonker pointed to the front door, which stood ajar.
“Try out there,” he said.
Suzy stuck her head out and was surprised to see her parents on the gangway that ran along the side of the Belle’s boiler, just above the wheels.
“Hello, sweetheart!” shouted Suzy’s dad above the howl of the tunnel. “You look very smart!”
“Dad!” Suzy shouted back. “Mom! What are you both doing out here?”
“Your father was worried we were missing something exciting,” said her mom, who was gripping the gangway’s handrail with both hands. Her eyes were screwed shut.
“I thought a tunnel between worlds would look a bit swirlier,” said Suzy’s dad. “Or maybe whooshier, somehow.”
“Sorry, Dad,” said Suzy. “But it turns out that wormholes aren’t really that interesting. It’s all about the destinations.”
As if on cue, the Express raced out of the tunnel into the dazzling white heart of the moon. It was an immense, spherical space, crisscrossed with a web of railway lines that hung suspended in mid-air. Trains shuttled back and forth along them, hurrying in and out of the hundreds of tunnel mouths that lined the curving walls. And right at the center of it all, running from the top of the sphere to the bottom, was a gigantic pillar of shining white stone, set with a rainbow of stained glass windows: the Ivory Tower.
“See what I mean?” said Suzy.
She hadn’t seen the tower since her first adventure to the Impossible Places. Back then, the Express had been out of control and she had been too preoccupied with the thought of impending death to truly appreciate the view. Now she found herself preoccupied with her parents’ reactions.
“Amandine! Look at this!” said her dad. He gave his wife a nudge, and she opened first one eye, then both eyes wide.
“Oh my goodness!” she cried. Her fear seemed to evaporate immediately, and she leaned forward over the rail. “There’s so much of it!”
Suzy joined them at the railing. “Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.
“It’s remarkable!” said her dad, a huge smile on his face.
“It’s beautiful,” said her mom. “And this has been in the moon all this time?”
Suzy nodded, relief and excitement washing through her. “And look, that’s Center Point Station,” she said, pointing to a sleek, curving building of white stone and glass that floated in mid-air in front of the tower. A dozen of the railway lines flowed into it. “That’s our stop.”
The Express began to slow as it swooped toward Center Point, and less than a minute later, it eased in beneath the station’s arched glass roof and came to a halt at one of the platforms.
“You’re all here,” said Wilmot, hopping out of the cab’s front door. “Excellent. Let’s go and see what all the fuss is about, shall we?”
* * *
The concourse of Center Point Station was busy with creatures from all over the Union of Impossible Places. Suzy spotted a few trolls, some clockwork people, something that looked like a walking rosebush, and a gaggle of giant hermit crabs with neon pink shells as she and her parents followed Wilmot through the crowd. Even she found the throng of strange life-forms a little bewildering, so she wasn’t surprised to see that her parents’ sense of wonder was now tempered by trepidation, especially when they had to dodge out of the path of a large ogre-like creature with a glowing horn sprouting from its forehead.
“Are you both okay?” she asked. They nodded nervously in return.
She was so preoccupied with them that she almost walked straight into one of the pillars holding up the roof. She turned around just in time to avoid a collision, and found herself staring into a face that made her recoil in shock—it was owl-like, complete with feathers, a hooked beak, and large, lamp-like yellow eyes that stared angrily into hers. Instinctively, she threw up her hands to protect herself.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” asked her dad.
It took Suzy a breathless second to realize what had happened. The face was just a picture on a poster, mounted on the pillar, and it was surrounded by angry red text.
WANTED
FOR ROBBERY, ESPIONAGE, ASSAULT, AND THE ATTE
MPTED DESTRUCTION OF TROLLVILLE:
EGOLIUS TENEBRAE.
SHOULD BE CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS.
IF SIGHTED, CONTACT YOUR LOCAL AUTHORITIES OR THE OBSIDIAN TOWER WITHOUT DELAY.
REWARD FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE
“Is that the one you told us about?” asked her mom, putting a protective arm around Suzy and leveling her most disapproving look at the poster.
“Yes,” said Suzy, who still felt a little shaken. She had known that Tenebrae was still at large, of course, but hadn’t expected to be confronted with him quite so suddenly, even if he was just a poster. She looked around and realized that there were Wanted posters on every pillar in the station, and at every ticket office. Some of them bore Tenebrae’s face, while others had a picture of Aybek, the former Lord Meridian, who had controlled the Impossible Places from the Ivory Tower until Suzy and the crew had exposed his plans and overthrown him. She shrugged off her mother’s arm and approached one of them.
WANTED
FOR CONSPIRACY, ESPIONAGE, HIGH TREASON, AND SUNDRY OTHER OFFENSES:
AYBEK ARANRHOD
(FORMERLY LORD MERIDIAN)
Her parents drifted after her. They were looking increasingly worried, and Suzy knew she needed to get them away from the posters and focus their minds on something other than dangerous criminals. She forced a smile.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “Wherever Aybek and Tenebrae are, they’re worlds away from here. Let’s catch up with Wilmot.” She linked arms with them both and steered them away through the crowd.
They found Wilmot at the rear of the concourse, where a noisy mob of creatures clustered around the entrance to the drawbridge that extended across the gap between the railway station and the tower. Most of them looked angry.
“There you are!” said Wilmot, hopping from foot to foot with impatience. “Something’s definitely wrong. Look.”
He pointed to four women with bobs of brightly colored hair—one green, one orange, one red, and one blue—who blocked the row of turnstiles that marked the entrance to the drawbridge. They wore body armor over silver jumpsuits, and each sported a heavy-looking plasma rifle. A large neon sign above the turnstiles read WELCOME TO THE IVORY TOWER. NOW FREE AND OPEN TO THE PUBLIC. Someone had spoiled the effect somewhat by hanging a hand-painted cardboard sign beneath it that read CLOSED.