Amber sat down cross-legged on the carpet. Ruby perched on the love seat. Both of them watched her like they expected something from her.
“What?” Celia asked.
Ruby leaned forward. “We were so sure you were dead. How did you get back here? How’d you get away from them?”
Amber ran her hand over the coarse fibers of the carpet and added, “Good job, however you did it.”
Celia bit at a hangnail on one of her fingers and wished she could trust them. “I just did.”
Ruby studied Celia. “You’re dressed different.”
Amber sniffed the air. “And your clothes smell . . . sweet.”
“No they don’t,” Celia said.
Ruby inhaled and frowned. “You were with a Little long enough to change into their clothes? How are you still human?”
Celia glared at both of them. She didn’t want to give any of the Littles’ secrets away. “After I was attacked by you two, Littles rescued me down in the subway tunnels.”
“Littles kidnapped you, and then dressed you and set you free? That would have to mean they didn’t have a Big who controlled them,” Amber said. “How’d you keep them from changing you?”
“They rescued me.”
“Tell us everything,” Ruby commanded, and then added, “Please? I’m so curious.”
Celia wondered what lies she should tell them. There was no way she was going to tell them about Demetri and the sanctuary. There was no way she was going to tell them about any of it, she decided. Celia wasn’t going to say anything, but then she discovered there was something she wanted to say. “You know how much it hurts to have friends betray you? To find out they were just pretending to like you?”
“We lied about some things, but not everything. I always liked your stubborn self,” Ruby said gruffly.
Amber added, “I liked you too. A lot. It made sense at the time that we should keep an eye on you, though. Sorry.”
Celia looked at both girls and a strange thought occurred to her. Maybe they should keep an eye on me. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around monsters and when the moment comes, I’ll make the wrong decision, whatever that means. “So you two are really solo now?”
Amber nodded and wrapped the afghan Celia’s grandmother had crocheted around herself. “For now. The hunters will probably let us back in when things cool down.”
Ruby drummed her knuckles on the coffee table. “Whatever. What do we need them for? We can fight Bigs on our own. So what happened to you, really?”
Celia still didn’t owe them a story, but she took a deep breath and started telling them as much as she could about getting rescued, without telling them it was Demetri and that he had a secret Little sanctuary. She had promised she wouldn’t tell anyone about it. Celia told them she’d slept in an empty subway tunnel with two other Littles who were good at self-control. She told them that there was a rumor about Littles making a big golem spell to fight Krawl. Just as she was getting to the part about going to the restaurant and finding a Big, Ruby interrupted her.
“Who?”
“Soltminer.”
“I mean, who were the Littles who nobly protected you and were so good at self-control that they could spend most of a day and a night with you and not attack you?” Ruby focused her gaze on Celia.
“Yeah,” Amber said. “Most Littles would last about five minutes, tops.”
“They were no one,” Celia said quickly. “They were the most average Littles ever. I didn’t even really catch their names or anything.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes and stared at Celia for another long moment. Then she grinned. “You found Demetri, didn’t you? He’s real, isn’t he? No other Little I’ve ever heard of has that kind of self-control.”
“Promise you won’t hurt him,” Celia said, and then winced as she realized she’d just admitted the truth.
Amber shook her head. “Hurt him? No one has ever been able to find him. He’s some kind of master magician, right?”
Celia shrugged. She didn’t want to be talking about this. Hunters hunted Littles. They put them in locked cages and never let them out.
“He really didn’t attack you? Not once?” Ruby said.
“Not just him, either. Demetri teaches other Littles how to stay in control.”
She expected the hunter girls to argue with her. They both looked thoughtful.
“That’s . . . amazing,” Amber said. “If we could join up with them, we might actually have a chance to stop the Bigs in whatever they’re planning.”
“You’d really . . . work with a Little? Even though you hate them?” Celia asked.
Ruby frowned. “I just hate what they do. If they didn’t attack kids . . . tactically, having someone on our side who could make spells whenever they wanted? That would change the game.”
Something white caught Celia’s eyes as it fluttered down outside the window. In the gap between the curtains, snow drifted down. But it was too warm for snow.
Celia walked to the window and pushed the curtains open.
The white stuff drifting through the air came down in flat strips and blew sideways in the wind, landing on the sill. On the strips there were black markings that looked like . . . writing?
Celia opened the window and grabbed a handful of the white stuff. It had the grainy but smooth texture of paper. She carried it to the coffee table.
Some of the strips were yellowed and brittle, while others were the fresh white of a new book.
“The girl didn’t know,” Amber read out loud, grabbing one of the slips.
“The boy was doomed,” Celia read off a different piece.
“Books? It’s raining shredded books? Beats snakes, I guess,” Ruby said.
Outside, the falling whiteness grew thicker. The building across the street became invisible in the deluge.
“The city will fill with silent words and the girl will decide,” Amber read off another slip of paper.
“The last part of the prophecy,” Ruby whispered. “We have to get to the cathedral and meet up with the hunters. I don’t care if the council says we’re out. We have to get them to help us destroy Krawl before she finishes this huge spell. It’s going to take all of us: Littles, hunters, doom girl, whatever.”
She said it like they could just go out and get it done, easy. But Celia didn’t think whatever was coming would be so simple.
The end of the doom prophecy was here, and doomed things never ended well.
32
Trouble
They put on hats and buttoned their wool coats all the way up before leaving the apartment. Celia wasn’t sure she wanted to go to the cathedral and be with hunters, but Ruby was right: they needed all the help they could get. And being surrounded by trained fighters sounded like a better idea than being alone right now.
“Strange weather,” one of Celia’s neighbors said. The middle-aged woman stood in the hallway wearing an old bathrobe as she stared out the window. “I’ve got extra canned food—you kids need any?”
“No.”
“Stay indoors today,” she whispered. “Wait until the strange things pass. That’s what we always do in Youngstown.” She pulled her robe tightly around her.
The three girls scurried past her and down the stairs. When they got to the foyer, the paper storm swirled and blew against the glass front door.
Ruby opened the door and a muffled silence entered the hall as bits of whiteness blew in and settled on the carpet. Ruby put her hand out into the storm. In a couple of seconds she held a handful of paper and threw it at Amber and Celia. It fell apart into a hundred pieces that fluttered to the ground.
Amber held her hand out to Celia. “Let’s not get lost. Ever again.”
Celia looked at her hand. “You trying to make sure I don’t sneak off and decide things that you don’t want me to decide?”
“Maybe. A little bit. Sorry. Is that awful?” Amber asked.
“Yeah.”
“When all this is over, I�
�m going to prove I’m really your friend,” Amber said. “I don’t know how. But I’m going to be there for you, in a real way.”
“Okay,” Celia said, and grabbed her hand. The storm was a wall of white paper, and she didn’t want to be alone in it.
They stepped outside with Ruby leading the way and Amber in the middle. The silence was so complete that it felt like deafness.
“Hello,” Celia said, just to hear herself speak. Bits of paper clung to her lips. She pulled her coat collar up over her nose as black text swirled by in all directions. Most of it was too small to read, but Celia could make out a few words as they floated by.
Going.
Walk.
Stormy weather.
Amber’s hand tugged her forward inside this blindingly white world. How was Ruby navigating through it? Celia couldn’t see her own feet, let alone the road.
She squinted to keep the paper out of her eyes. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of a library. Her feet slid over the growing mounds of paper, and each step was uneven. She lurched forward.
Demetri.
The word floated by. Maybe she’d imagined it?
Demetri.
It flashed again on a slip of falling paper.
There are a million Russian books with that name, she told herself. Maybe these were the pages of classic novels. She’d heard of snow blindness. Maybe this was some sort of word blindness, playing tricks on her.
Demetri hurting.
The words flew by, written in bold black letters.
She tried to grab it, to hold the proof in her hand, but it swirled away, one piece among thousands.
Celia’s eyes streamed tears as she tried to read other messages in the storm. Clots of paper stuck to her cheeks.
Demetri
Trouble
Trouble
Demetri
Her friend’s name floated by, and Celia tried to catch it.
Amber’s fingers jerked forward and slipped out of Celia’s hand. Celia reached for her, but all she touched was more paper. Her arms groped into the downpour. She ran forward. Her foot caught on a bump in the road, and she fell.
“Amber! Ruby!” she yelled. Paper coated her lips and tongue.
Silence. Celia got up and walked, sweeping her arms in wide circles and yelling out for the two girls. The more she moved, the more she knew she wouldn’t find them.
“I’m alone,” she said, but could barely hear her own voice. The world, in every direction, was a downpour of silence.
Celia
A piece of paper drifted by, and this time she snatched it from the air and held on to the bit of proof. She stared at her name, written in bold letters. On the other side it read, Demetri captured.
Doom
Doom
Doom
The words drifted by, and she walked in the direction those words came from. I’ll save him. If he’s in trouble, I’ll find him and save him. She followed her name, and Demetri’s, and when they came from the right, that’s where she turned. There must have been cars, lampposts, and fire hydrants on the road, but Celia didn’t run into any of them. She walked like the whole world only existed a couple of feet ahead of and behind her. The bits of paper led her forward, and on she went, one step at a time.
Her feet stumbled over some steps. She climbed their slippery, paper-covered slope and came to a red door.
Celia.
Doom.
Celia.
Bits of paper with her name on it blew against the door, held there for a moment by the wind before dropping to the ground.
Messages falling inside a magical storm had led her to this house. Someone wanted her here.
There were two great magicians in the city: Demetri and Krawl. Which one had called her here?
Demetri
Inside
Trouble
Celia spit out bits of paper that floated into her mouth and closed her eyes against the overwhelming whiteness. She searched for a plan, for any idea of what she could do to protect herself and her friends from anything bad that might happen.
She stood with her eyes closed for a long moment, then opened them and knocked on the door, because she couldn’t think of anything better to do.
33
The Victim
Wisps of paper blew against the door.
Enter
Enter
Enter
Celia found the doorknob and turned it. The door opened, and she stepped into a room full of the smell of apples and sunlight, carried on warm air. Demetri was here, somewhere. She had to find him.
The dimly lit room flickered with a dying fire in a fireplace that gave everything an orangey glow. The hardwood floors and the faded blue-flower walls reminded her of her grandma’s house. Celia blinked and saw after-images of falling paper as she tried to figure out what to do next.
“Cookies?” a voice called out, and a door opened from a kitchen. The smell of cinnamon, sugar, and something like moldy potatoes and turned milk wafted into the room. An elderly woman with a round bun and dark sunglasses walked toward her. “Hello, dear. Cookie?”
“Uh, I’m sorry to barge into your house. I thought . . .” Celia squinted at her. She’d seen the old blind woman before: sitting in an apartment window after the earthquake, walking down the street after the night of snakes, and walking toward the restaurant when Demetri had been attacked.
“Don’t be silly, Celia. We’ve been waiting for you. The storm brought you, just as planned.” Her face crinkled up in a smile, and she pushed a gray strand of hair away from her face. She called out, “Your doom girl is here and she’s lovely, Demetri.”
Someone groaned. Celia turned toward the living room. Framed pictures of smiling kids hung on every wall. Polished sports trophies lined the shelves, and everything about this house was like a grandma’s house, but there was something fake about it, like maybe it was too perfect. Celia stared at the blind woman and wondered who she really was.
A groan, louder this time, came from the living room. Demetri’s horned head poked above the back of a big red couch.
“Demetri!” Celia ran to him.
He sat perfectly still with his fingers clutching the edges of the seat cushions. His eyes tracked Celia, but nothing else moved.
“What did you do to him?” Celia turned to the beaming grandmother who’d come around and stood in front of the fire with her plate of sugar cookies held in one palsied hand.
“Sit, dear. I’ll tell you a story.”
Celia stepped toward her.
The woman tsk-tsked and flicked her wrist. Celia’s body rose up from the ground and flew backward a couple of feet. She sat on the couch beside Demetri. Her body sank down into the soft cushions.
“Always respect your elders, dear. Kids these days.”
A line of sweat ran down the side of Demetri’s frozen face.
“Krawl? You’re Krawl, aren’t you?” Celia asked.
The old woman took a hobbled step forward. “Yes, dear. Those brave enough to speak my name call me that. How lovely to learn that you are brave. Or are you foolish? We shall see. Cookie?” She held out her plate full of white cookies dusted with sugar.
Celia glanced behind her at the door, then at Demetri’s too-still form.
“You’re thinking of escaping? After all I’ve done to bring the two of you together. I wonder, in that weak and fluttering human heart of yours, do you still hold hope? How sweet. Do you like stories, dear?”
I’ll run, Celia thought. I’ll grab Demetri and not touch any of his skin and run. She slid forward to the edge of the couch. I can move faster than her, she thought, sizing up the old lady.
Krawl tsk-tsked and flicked her wrist again. Celia’s body slammed back into the couch, harder this time. “I asked if you like stories. But of course you do. All children love a good tale. Once upon a time there was a troubled Little monster named Demetri. He was different from all the other Littles, in that he wasn’t very bright and liked to play
pretend, even though he was far too old for it. He thought that Littles should run free and do as they pleased. He hid these thoughts from his maker, who trusted him to read aloud her books of magic.” Krawl tapped her glasses and pushed them down her nose. Where her eyes should have been, her skin stretched flat from cheek to eyebrow.
Demetri whimpered.
“The old woman’s other senses more than made up for her blindness, but for book reading, she needed her slave’s help. The stupid boy was good at memorizing and practicing magic while she slept. One day, he rebelled.” Krawl stepped forward and leaned over Demetri until her face was close to his. “I’d forgotten the lovely smell of your fear, child.”
“He outsmarted you,” Celia said. “He was a better magician than you could ever be.”
Krawl snapped upright and smiled. “He stole some of the best magical books in the world and, with knowledge in them, banished me from this city. Then he began to build an army of foolish Littles, tricking them into believing they could be free. His fairy tales spread across the world, and the name Demetri became a name of hope. Imagine, such a small, pathetic boy meaning anything. More and more slaves slipped away from their makers. They decided they would resist their nature. They came together and hid from us. You know what a creature who resists his nature is called?”
“A hero,” Celia said. “A savior.”
“An abomination,” Krawl answered. “A cow who tries to hunt. A snake who tries to walk. A Little who believes he never has to grow up. The lies Demetri told spread throughout the world, as did his hiding spells.”
“Good,” Celia whispered. She launched herself off the couch and ran toward Krawl, but the old woman flung her back onto the couch with the flick of a crooked finger. Celia hit the couch hard. Her head snapped back. She gasped with pain.
All around them the photographs of smiling kids watched, looking like they enjoyed this.
“Soon there were fewer Big monsters being made, because Demetri convinced Littles it was wrong. Evil. Over time, with hunters hunting us down, our numbers dwindled across the world and there were fewer of us. In some places, we were even eradicated.”
Little Apocalypse Page 18