by Caleb Krisp
The boy sidestepped a sickly looking woman holding a baby and hurried to my side. “You’re really the Dual?” he asked, rather stunned.
I didn’t reply. My eyes dropped to the box he was holding—it contained rows of small jars filled with a red substance. There was a hand-painted sign hanging from it. IVY POCKET’S MIRACLE CREAM—ONLY FIVE CLIPS A JAR. The boy saw that I was baffled.
“Your remedy worked so well on my arm, I decided to make up a big batch and sell it.” He looked at me bashfully. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, dear.” Then I noticed that his gray arm was covered with the red paste. Which was odd. “Your cut was healed, was it not?”
Amos nodded. Stepped close to me. Winked. “Customers like the personal touch—it’s good for sales.”
Just then the ground shifted beneath our feet, lurching from side to side. It was brief. But everybody noticed and began to mutter. Though I had other things on my mind. “When did you get sick, Amos?”
“Came on during the night,” he said, looking down at his hands as if he no longer recognized them. “By morning it had spread all over—never heard of it coming on so fast.” He offered me a crooked grin. “Guess I’m special too.”
“I’m awfully sorry.”
He shrugged. “The Shadow took my parents—always knew it might come for me.”
Miss Always appeared beside me. “Keep moving!” she whispered, gripping my arm again.
When Amos saw Miss Always, his eyes blazed with hatred. He went to lunge at her, but stopped himself. I thought of all that the boy had lost.
“About Lily,” I said quickly. “I know that if it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t be—”
“It’s her fault, not yours,” he said, staring daggers at Miss Always.
“Walk, Ivy,” said Miss Always, ignoring the boy. “Everyone is waiting.”
He reached out and grabbed my hand. “I hope it’s you, Ivy. I hope you’re the one.”
I nodded. Squeezed his hand. “Amos, you mustn’t get your—”
Miss Always pressed the dagger to my back. I felt the blade pierce my dress and then my flesh. I could offer Amos little more than a parting wave as I was marched away.
Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes until the portal closed forever. From my position on the platform I had a perfect view of the clock tower atop Prospa House. It had just struck eleven thirty. The portal would be dead by noon. Yet instead of racing down to the underground chamber and jumping in, I was stuck in the middle of the great lake—just me and Miss Always. And a rather large red throne on a platform behind us.
It felt bonkers. Unreal. Impossible. Yet here I stood. The sparkling blue lake beneath us, and a crowd of thousands around the water’s edge watching me with bated breath—waiting for me to lift the curse of the Shadow from their lives. I looked at the clock again. Twenty-nine minutes left. Miss Always stepped forward and welcomed the crowd.
“This is a great day,” she declared, her voice carrying across the water. “The Shadow is a thief. It steals lives and dreams, and from the very moment it began to spread through our people, over two hundred years ago, we have lived with but one promise—the Dual. The girl who would come from another world and banish this plague from our homeland.”
The crowd began to cheer and whistle and cry out—a great wave of sound. And there was something else rippling through the crowd, through the air, that I couldn’t name. But it was there.
“Ivy will now take her place, and we shall begin!” cried Miss Always.
A great cheer went up again. And Miss Always came to my side. Before me were three steps leading down to the water. “Take your place, Ivy,” she said with a rare smile. “Place your hands in the water, and the rest will take care of itself.”
A red velvet pillow lay at the water’s edge for me to kneel upon.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” said Miss Always.
“I don’t want to be the Dual. I don’t want to be the Queen—yes, it would be lovely to wear a crown, chop people’s heads off, and eat cake all day, but that is not the life I want.” I looked at Miss Always as earnestly as I knew how. “I want to be with my mother. I want to go home.”
“We don’t always get to choose our destiny, Ivy,” she said, and though her voice was firm, I was shocked to hear tenderness there. “Do you think I chose this life? The Shadow took everything from me—my parents, my grandparents . . . my husband.”
“You had a husband? Are you sure, dear? I’m almost certain you’re a crazed spinster.”
“We were not married long at all,” she said softly. “After he was taken from me, I swore that I would do whatever it took to stop the Shadow. That is why I became the gatekeeper, and it is why I have hunted you across this world and yours.” She pointed out to the thousands of gray faces surrounding the great lake. “Look at them, see their suffering. Can you really walk away? Can you really not try?”
I didn’t reply. Of course I wanted to help them. To take away their suffering and lift the death sentence from all those dying of the Shadow—including Amos. But in saving their lives, I was destroying mine. I wasn’t sure I had the courage to do that.
The crowd had begun to murmur a great deal. And I saw the worry on their faces. They were starting to doubt me. As they should. Miss Always bent down and met my gaze.
“Sometimes you must give up what you think you want, for something that matters more. Ivy, can’t you see that this matters more?”
I looked out. At the faces. And it was then that I understood what I had felt rippling through the crowd that I couldn’t name—faith. The people, all of these people, had come here on the promise of something of which there was no proof. They had all made this journey, and stood up to Justice Hallow’s guards, on the promise of a brighter day. They believed in me, a girl they didn’t know, for no other reason than it was something to believe in. Was it true? Were they right? In the end, there was only one way to find out. And despite how much I longed to be with my mother, I knew that I owed it to them—and to me—to find out.
I walked past Miss Always to the end of the platform. Down the three steps. Knelt at the water’s edge. The crowd had fallen silent. I looked up and out. And what I saw there made my heart sing. Miss Frost and Rebecca were standing on the terrace of Prospa House. They had made it! Next, I glanced up at the clock tower. Twenty-two minutes until the portal closed.
Suddenly I knew just what to do—I would cure the plague, and then Rebecca and I would race to the portal and go home. It was perfect! I took a deep breath. My eyes fell to the sparkling blue water. I placed my hands out in front of me, palms down, and lowered them into the lake. They breached the surface and slipped under, the water icy cold.
I held my hands there. Waited. Hoped. Prayed. It seemed the whole of Prospa was holding its collective breath. All was still and silent. Then I felt my fingers tingle—starting at the tips and rushing up. A charge began to ripple from under the water, causing tiny waves upon the surface. Without warning, the chain around my neck snapped. The Clock Diamond unspooled, plunging into the lake. As it sank, the lake began to bubble and glow—the blue liquid swallowed by water so golden and bright it stung my eyes.
The crowd gasped as one. Miss Always was suddenly by my side. “It is happening!” she shouted. “It is happening!”
A great roaring cheer went up. I pulled my hands from the water. The lake shone like a radiant, liquid sun. I sat back on my heels. Watching as the people huddled around the water pumps and began pulling on the levers—great torrents of glistening honey-colored water pouring out.
“Drink it,” instructed Miss Always. “Drink it, splash it on your skin, and be healed!”
Which is exactly what they did. Gulping it down. Splashing it on their gray flesh with abandon. Several minutes passed. Miss Always and I watched from the platform, and what started to happen all around us was . . . nothing. Not a thing. The gray faces stayed gray. No one was even slightly cured. The murmurs o
f disappointment and anger began almost immediately. People wondering aloud what foolishness this was. Yes, the water had glowed wondrously, but it had not done a thing to wipe the Shadow’s ashen mark from their flesh. I glanced up at the clock tower. Nineteen minutes left.
“Give it time!” shouted Miss Always. “It might not happen straightaway!” But I could hear the doubt in her voice, and so could the masses.
“It’s a trick, that’s what it is!” cried a man.
“I spent forty clips to get here,” shouted another, “all for nothing!”
“The Dual is a fraud!” shrieked a woman.
“That’s frightfully harsh!” I called back. “I never said I was her!”
It had been a mad dream. A fool’s errand. I looked to Miss Always. She was pale. Probably thinking that the crowd would savage us the moment we stepped from the platform. Then a voice called out above the tide of discontent. A boy. And his cry was this: “It’s gone! It’s gone! She’s done it!”
We all looked at the same time. The crowd parted to give the boy room. And I saw that it was Amos. He was pointing at his arm, for some reason. Pointing at where my healing remedy was smothered on his skin. I took off down the gangway, and Miss Always followed right behind me.
When we reached Amos, people around him were beginning to shout and cheer. And we quickly saw what was generating such excitement. When Amos had splashed the water from the pump on his skin, nothing had happened. At first.
Then he noticed that on the part of his arm where the water had washed over my natural remedy, the foul-smelling red paste had begun to blister and sizzle. Before sinking into the pores of his skin as if it were a sponge. Then that patch of his arm began to change color, the sickly gray fading, leaving in its wake a healthy glow. And it spread like a virus, bleeding up his arm and down his hand—until his entire body was as flushed and healthy as an infant.
“It’s Ivy’s remedy that did it!” he shouted. “She is the Dual!”
Amos ran over and kissed me on the cheek. Then began passing out the jars of Ivy Pocket’s Miracle Cream—the crowd grabbing for the little crimson pots rather desperately.
“The combination of that ridiculous remedy and the energized water unlocked a cure,” muttered Miss Always. “Incredible!”
“Not really, dear. My natural remedies are legendary.”
“Don’t worry,” shouted Amos to the swelling crowd. “We will make a huge barrel, hundreds of them if we have to—everyone will be cured! The Dual is real!”
A deafening roar exploded up from the crowd, starting near us and sweeping back toward the concourse. It made my bones rattle. They gathered around me, grabbing and touching and clasping my hand. Miss Always pulled me back up the gangplank. “The prophecy has been fulfilled!” she shouted, with an arm clasped tightly around my shoulder. “The Dual has come!”
Another great cheer went up.
“We have seen the end of the Shadow,” continued Miss Always. “And in keeping with the prophecy, Prospa has a new queen!”
Again, the crowd went thoroughly berserk. Chanting, “Queen Ivy! Queen Ivy!” Which was awfully thrilling. And frightfully bonkers. Miss Always lowered her arm, and I felt the blade at my back.
“But we must not forget that our new Queen is just a child, and the burden of the throne is a heavy one,” she continued. “Therefore Ivy has asked me to become her new Chief Justice—we will perform the coronation immediately, and then I will take charge of the day-to-day operations.” She threw out her arms like a lunatic. “Today is not just a new chapter in Prospa history—it is a new book!”
“Miss Always?” I said loudly.
The dreary villain was grinning like a lunatic. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“You seem rather overheated. Fortunately, I have an excellent remedy.”
Then I pushed her with great force. She spun over the railing, the dagger flying. Then she plunged into the water. There was a moment of utter silence. The crowd looking at one another, bug-eyed. Then Amos began to laugh heartily—and soon the entire crowd was joining in. By the time Miss Always was being pulled from the water, she had become a laughingstock.
All the jars had been passed out. Dozens and dozens of people had smeared a few drops on their hands, then hurried to the water pumps and let the liquid splash over my natural remedy. And within moments, the gray flesh had washed away and they were utterly healed.
Amos had scribbled down a list of ingredients. Wagons took off for the local dairy to bring back milk to be curdled in the sun, while others went into the woodlands to collect tree sap, wildflowers, and moss. But I was no longer looking at the great sea of hope and joy churning around me.
As I hurried from the gangway, the ground shook again. This time most violently. People stumbled. Some fell. Then a horrible rumbling could be heard under our feet, like the growl of a lion. A great cry went up from the concourse. I looked over just as a great crack split the front of Prospa House. Chunks of stone hurtled to the ground. Windows shattered, shards of glass raining down on the crowd. Some began to run and scream. But most were too elated to really care about what was happening.
I was running now, barely noticed by the swarm of people. I looked at the clock tower. Fifteen minutes left. Then my eyes slipped down to Miss Frost and Rebecca on the terrace—I wished to wave and let them know I was coming. Only they no longer stood there alone. Guards flanked them at either side, gripping their arms. And a woman stood before them. Somehow she found me among the crowd. Looked right at me. Justice Hallow smiled, beckoning me like an old friend.
19
“Attention, good people of Prospa!” thundered Justice Hallow.
I was bounding up the stairs as she began to speak. Her voice carried over the great lake. Some in the crowd booed her. Others hissed.
“You said there was no Dual!” barked one irate woman.
“Justice Hallow takes care of the rich!” shouted a man. “The farmers and their clans never got near the remedies!”
But Justice Hallow simply lifted her hands into the air rather majestically—as if to tell the good people of Prospa to shut their pieholes. Which, strangely, they did. “Today is not about recriminations,” she declared. “This is a day of great joy—a day I have dreamed of since I was a little girl. A new dawn for Prospa.”
Which was unexpected. And complete nonsense. When I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed that Professor Finsbury was lurking nearby. I headed straight for Miss Frost and Rebecca—but a guard fell in beside me, and I was marched over to Justice Hallow. I stood just behind her, looking down on a great sea of faces, crowded around the Clock Diamond monument and stretching out to the farthest corners of the great lake.
“But this shining hour, this greatest of days, is not about me,” said Justice Hallow, shaking her head humbly. “It is about the girl who came to our world and defeated the Shadow—my own dear granddaughter . . .”
There were gasps and murmurs of surprise from the crowd.
“Her royal highness Ivy the First!”
The crowd erupted in a stupendous cheer. I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes left.
“Prospa has not had a queen for more than two hundred years,” announced Justice Hallow, “but today we pass the ancient sceptre from the old royal line to the new.”
Justice Hallow turned and gave the signal. Instantly one of her guards emerged from Prospa House carrying a white cushion with a sceptre lying upon it.
“How did you get out?” I whispered to Granny.
“Professor Finsbury saw you and Miss Always leaving my private quarters. He suspected foul play and came looking for me.” She smiled faintly. “And as my second-in-command, he knew just where to look.”
When the guard reached Justice Hallow, the ground rumbled and shook. The terrace seemed to be sliding under us. Granny lost her balance, saved from falling only by clutching the guard’s arm. The stairs below were rippling like a heaving tide. A loud shudder came up from deep under the ground; then the
stairs split down the middle. On the concourse, the impossibly tall clock tower monument was swaying from side to side.
“What’s happening?” someone cried out.
“It’s the Shadow seeking vengeance!” shouted another.
“You are wrong,” said Justice Hallow. “A crime of the gravest kind has been committed, and that is why Prospa House is falling.” She bowed her head slightly and turned to me. “I will let our new Queen tell the sorry tale.”
Justice Hallow turned her back on the crowd and picked up the sceptre. It was the one I had seen in her cabinet of curiosities—a black staff, carved with gold coronets, a large green stone capping either end. “Do you wish to go home, Ivy?” she said softly.
“Of course I do, you murderous medusa!”
“Then tell your people that Miss Always poisoned the portal—tell them you saw her do it with your own eyes. Tell them you cannot be their queen, as you wish to return to your world. Tell them that you are passing the throne to your beloved grandmother.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, my guards will make sure you never get home.” She pushed the sceptre at me. “And I will have Professor Finsbury put a bullet in Miss Frost.”
I looked behind me. Saw Professor Finsbury standing by Miss Frost with a pistol at her back.
“I may lose the war, Ivy,” whispered Justice Hallow, “but I win the only battles you seem to care about—your friends and your mother.”
“Don’t listen to her, Miss Pocket,” said Miss Frost, defying the pistol. “I can take care of myself. Do what you know is right.”
“You wouldn’t shoot her,” I said to Justice Hallow, “not here in front of the whole kingdom.”
“What have I to lose?” said Granny, her eyes dancing. “These wretched fools would kill me if they knew what I had done. I am offering us both a way out. Go home and leave Prospa to me.”