“Sorry I can’t say that I’m as glad to see you,” she said. “I assume you are here about the first of my three tasks.”
“I am,” said Gerard and then reached for something on the desk.
From amid the papers and empty cups he lifted a wooden box the size of a thick book, ornately carved and tied closed with a black ribbon. Mr. Augustus kept his eyes on the box.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s your task,” said Gerard. “You are going to deliver this for us.”
Mr. Augustus wasn’t protecting her by firing her. He was freeing her up to do work for the Seelie. A low-paying, boring job suddenly had its appeal.
“Here,” Gerard said. “Take it.”
She obeyed and looked it over. “I suppose I’m not supposed to open it, right? Will it eat my soul or something?”
“Hardly. Be my guest and see what’s inside,” he said, raising a manicured hand, palm up.
Glancing at Mr. Augustus, who gave her a short nod, she pulled the ribbon loose and opened the box. Inside, a small glass sphere rested in a pile of Styrofoam packing peanuts. With the fancy exterior, she would have expected velvet or at least shredded parchment. The sphere was perfectly clear and without blemish or bubble.
“You are to take it to Yelbeghen, an individual who lives on an island in the Mediterranean,” Gerard said.
“So you want me to make a Door, deliver this and come back? That’s it?” It sounded too easy, deceptively so.
“It’s an exchange. He has a Seelie woman who he is holding captive. If you give him this, he will free her.”
“Does he accept this deal? Or am I going to have to convince him?”
“He has already agreed. You only have to deliver the orb.”
“Then why send me? Why not go yourselves? Why waste one of my tasks on this? It’s too simple.”
Mr. Augustus looked pleased with her. He crossed his arms and looked at Gerard for a response.
“Yelbeghen does not care for the Seelie, as a rule. We need a human to go, and having chosen to be one of those kind of people,” Gerard wrinkled his nose delicately, “you are our best choice. He will not harm you while you operate under the Seelie aegis.”
“What is this Yelbeghen? What sort of being?”
Gerard straightened his jacket. “He won’t harm you. He can’t harm humans. Well, he can, but he won’t. And being a Door, you’re a rare being. He won’t harm anything so precious.”
“Tell me what he is.”
Gerard sighed. “A drake.”
“A drake? Like a dragon? Really? So is this a piece of some treasure?”
“If you want to put it that way, yes. It’s very precious, and you cannot ever replace it should anything happen to it. Astrid, please understand, I know this is not a difficult task. It’s merely one ideally suited to you.”
He handed her a map, a modern one, with the exact location of the island noted. Astrid folded it and placed it into the box. As she did so, she felt a mixture of relief and apprehension. On the one hand, it was a simple delivery to a being who wouldn’t harm her. The Seelie wouldn’t send her into mortal danger and risk losing the two additional tasks she was bound to perform. On the other hand, if a Seelie wouldn’t go, then this individual was dangerous. She might be human, but she was born Unseelie and was a psychopomp. Who knew how this Yelbeghen might behave?
“Before I go,” she said, “I have a question. I want to know about the Library. How can I get Elliot out?”
“Oh, sweetling,” said Gerard. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“So it’s possible? It’s possible to do it?”
“Well, theoretically, yes. You opened a Door once. It has to be possible to do it again, don’t you think? But it’s foolish.”
“I don’t care. Elliot is my cousin, and I’m bringing him back.”
“Even if you could, even if you got him back alive, it wouldn’t be to his benefit. He would leave half a person, mad and delusional. That’s if he survived at all. Your doppelganger girl is a picture of mental health compared to someone who came from the Library. I know you don’t like me, but you were my pupil once, and I do not wish to see harm come to you. If you love your cousin, leave him where he is, whole and sane.”
Chapter 14
Huginn soared over the housetops, stretching his wings and savoring the sensation of the air ruffling his feathers. From high up, this section of town seemed greener than from the ground. The trees in this area were older, as was the neighborhood, and the high trees concealed parts of the homes and streets. He thought of flying out toward the sea, but he had to stay close to home. Hazel had called the Professor and informed him that she was returning home.
He angled his wings and circled, looking down over swimming pools, sparkling pale blue against the yellow and brown yards and white cement patios. He soared over brown and gray rooftops and those made of red Spanish tile and past the silvery ribbons of the streets, crawling with cars gleaming in the sun.
It was a good day. He felt mentally sharp, as if his memory might not fail him as often as usual. His inability to retain information troubled him deeply, and often he felt as if Pangur Ban was more of a caretaker than a partner and friend. But then he remembered all of his thoughts and ideas, the intricate plans that had allowed them to infiltrate almost anywhere they chose, slipping in and out on wings and padded feet. They were the Time Corps’s most proficient infiltration team, and he knew that if he were truly a liability, they would keep him confined to the house like the kittens or Sister instead of sending him on missions.
He flew back toward home, noting a white animal emerging from the house and disappearing under the tree. He landed in the backyard tree as Pangur Ban scaled it, settling in on a branch beside his.
“Something is wrong,” she said. “The Professor is agitated.”
“He’s always agitated. Either that or miserable about something.”
“It’s different. He’s different. I can tell.”
The Professor was typically pleased when Hazel returned from one of her trips. He thought of her as a daughter and worried about her whenever she was away. But he also had a new wife.
“Did he and Felicia have a quarrel?” he asked.
“No.”
Pangur Ban’s hearing was sharp, and like most animals, she could sense human emotions.
“Something more serious then,” he said. “Something bad with Hazel. If Hazel told the Professor what was wrong, he would either do something useful to help her or start swearing and drinking because he could not help. Since he is doing neither, I must conclude that something is wrong, but Hazel would not tell him over the phone.”
“That is perceptive. Whose car is that?” asked Pangur Ban as a large SUV pulled into the long, narrow driveway that ran along the side of the house.
“It’s Hazel and the car a rental. See the license plate frame?” Huginn said. “It says the name of the rental company.”
The driver’s side door opened and Hazel stepped out, followed by Mr. Escobar and five other members of her monkey crew. None of them noticed Huginn or Pangur Ban in the tree and the pair remained silent.
Hazel opened the back of the SUV and the crew unloaded a long covered crate which they then carried into the house. It looked heavy, but Huginn knew that the little primates who crewed Skidbladnir were unnaturally strong.
Pangur Ban climbed down the tree trunk and trotted to the cat door. If Huginn had been one of the humans, she would have said good-bye before she left him, but the two of them did not tend to waste time on meaningless words. Huginn flew into the house through the hatch in the upstairs window and navigated through the house, landing on the back of his favorite chair in the living room.
“Hazel!” the Professor pounded down the stair
s and swept the small, freckled woman into an embrace, spinning her until he noticed the large box. He set her down. “What’s this?”
“It’s Neil.”
Huginn hopped over to the top of a bookcase to get a better look as Hazel and the Professor lifted the lid off of the crate and pulled back the blanket that shrouded the body. On the bed of straw lay an earthen man.
“Dear Jesus,” said the Professor. “What happened? What did this to him?”
Julius, Yukiko, Felicia, Astrid and Sister came in and Huginn watched as they looked over the edge of the crate and then pulled back.
“It was Mr. March,” said Hazel. “He’s alive, but he looks different now. Younger. He forced Neil to hold still and then he rubbed his thumb on the roof of his mouth. That’s when he changed into this.”
After glancing into the crate, Pangur Ban leapt up onto the bookcase beside Huginn.
“Any ideas?” she said under her breath.
“None. What could do this to him?”
Pangur Ban addressed Hazel. “Why did he rub the roof of Neil’s mouth? Did he say?”
“Neil had letters there. I’ll show you.” Hazel pulled a pad from the writing desk and drew three shapes on it. Huginn, who had sharp eyesight, did not need to move closer to read them. The first two marks were arched and the last was similar to an X. All of them were in a script that looked like calligraphy.
“Hebrew,” said Pangur Ban.
“Can you read it?” Huginn asked her.
“I can.”
Julius picked up the paper and then handed it back to Hazel.
“It says ‘Emet.’ Truth,” said Julius.
“But why would that be on the roof of his mouth?” said Hazel.
Julius rubbed his left temple and walked back to Neil’s body. He sighed. “There is only one reason I can think of that makes sense with him in this state. It appears that Neil was some kind of golem. A man made from earth. And now he has returned to his original form.”
“How can that be?” said Hazel. “He was a man. Flesh and blood.”
“From what I can guess, he was March’s creation. Now, March has corrected his mistake by destroying him. I wasn’t present when my brother was returned to life, but it must have been part of the agreement to allow him to live again. He had to set things right.”
“How can you say that? Set things right? He killed him!”
“Strictly speaking, no. If I am correct, Neil was an unnatural creature. He was never truly alive. March did a very wicked deed in making him. I am surprised the golem was allowed to live as long as he has.”
Huginn watched as Hazel turned pink with rage. She looked like she was about to take a swing at Julius, who blinked at her serenely through his glasses.
“You knew, didn’t you?” she cried. “You knew that your brother would come back from the dead. That’s why you had no objections to killing March in the first place.”
“Yes. And now that he’s back, March is not killing humans anymore or having them killed by others.”
“He killed Neil!”
“As I said.”
“March is still a murderer, just as before.”
“Not really. Creating Neil was a terrible deed. An unnatural deed. He created him to be an assassin, to do his ugly work of tampering with events by murdering certain key individuals. And now, in destroying his golem, he has set things back on their natural path. He is setting right his evil deeds.”
“Neil was a good person and you know it. He refused to murder once he comprehended what he was doing. He was your friend. And he was killed. How could you say his death is a good thing?”
“I am not pleased, if that is what you are inferring.”
Hazel looked like she was about to either burst into tears or punch Julius. Huginn placed about even odds on either. The Professor put a hand on Hazel’s shoulder, seeing, as Huginn did, that Hazel was past her boiling point. Huginn saw her relax a fraction. The only person Hazel loved more than Neil was the Professor. She would control herself for his sake.
“I think perhaps you should give us a few minutes,” the Professor said to Julius. The older man scratched his beard and climbed the stairs, presumably to return to his perpetual reading.
“Pangur Ban,” said Huginn, having an idea. “In your travels, have you seen anything like this before?”
“I have not,” she said. “Though I’ve heard the stories, of course.”
“If Mr. March created Neil, could we not bring him back in a similar manner?”
Pangur Ban blinked at him. “I do not know how. The scholars with that knowledge would have died out long ago.”
“We have a time machine.”
“It cannot go back more than a few hundred years,” said the cat.
“I’ve been working on a new device,” said the Professor. “A dynamic temporal scanner and locking device. It might allow travel much farther than only a few hundred years. It’s still in the developmental stages, unfortunately.”
“But you could do it?” said Huginn.
“Given enough time, yes. I believe I could do it.”
“There!” said Huginn.
“Even if we could,” said Pangur Ban, “finding the scholars would be difficult. And I have the feeling that Mr. March, as one of the Twelve, did not bring Neil to life by the known means of creating a golem.”
“But you do not know for sure,” said Huginn.
“Correct.”
“And these other people who knew, where could we find them?”
“The place where they gathered is inaccessible to us,” Pangur Ban said.
“The Library.”
“I believe so.”
“That’s it then,” said Hazel. “Astrid will work on opening another Door to the Library.” She turned to Astrid. “You’ve been practicing, correct?”
Astrid broke her silence, looking up from the floor where she knelt beside Sister who was weeping into her hands and rocking. In the commotion, no one but Astrid had noticed the girl’s distress over Neil’s death.
“Yes, but from what I understand, the Door I sent Elliot through was a fluke,” said Astrid. “I can’t repeat it.”
“That may or may not be so,” said Pangur Ban. “It’s true that the Library is outside of time. And your Doors only open within your own time. So your creation of the Door must have occurred when our two points in time brushed together. You cannot control that or replicate it.”
Huginn had another idea. “What if Astrid went through one of her own Doors into the void. She can survive there indefinitely. Then she can get to the Library from there.”
Pangur Ban considered it. “But Elliot cannot survive in the void. What if she needed longer than a few moments to escape through the void with him?”
“And there’s another problem,” said Astrid. “From what I understand, anyone who leaves the Library loses part of their mind. How could we get out with Elliot and the information for Neil without going insane?”
“Won’t make any difference for me,” Huginn said. “I’m half gone already.”
“And even if I could get there,” said Astrid, “Jeff, the head psychopomp, said I’m not allowed to bring the living through my Doors. I’d do it for Elliot though. And for Neil. And to hell with the psychopomps.”
Hazel looked pleased with this notion. “Elliot passed through your Door before to get to the Library. And you weren’t punished then. Also, when you and Yukiko went through your Doors, and then later when the sidhe used them, nothing happened. Maybe the psychopomps can’t tell when you do it.”
“Jeff said it destabilizes things.”
“So does all of our time travel,” said the Professor. “We destabilize, we restabilize, we fix time loops and make them into nice,
orderly timelines with causes and effects. It’s what we do.”
Chapter 15
Hazel sat at the writing desk, copying the Hebrew letters from an open book onto a piece of unlined paper. Before, she had made the letters from memory, and though Pangur Ban and Julius had been able to read them, this time she wanted to get them exactly right. The clock struck two, but Hazel knew she wouldn’t sleep.
She cut the scrap of paper into a neat rectangle and knelt beside Neil. His mouth was open enough to easily slip a piece of paper between his teeth. She put the paper in, and when nothing happened, she flipped it over so the letters faced up.
Nothing.
“Which word did you write?” asked a female voice from the shadows. Hazel jerked in surprise, and the white cat glided into the pool of light cast by the green-shaded lamp on the writing desk.
“Emet,” said Hazel. “When Mr. March talked to Neil, he said, ‘My Emmett.’ I thought it was a name.”
“An understandable mistake. Emet means ‘truth,’ but March must have rubbed off a letter, the last one, Aleph. Then it says, Met. ‘Death.’”
“If we replace that letter, will he live?”
“I do not think so. But you can try it.”
Hazel did, writing the single letter carefully. Pangur Ban jumped onto the desk and sat, tail curled around her paws, giving helpful suggestions. She could not write herself, but she was very old and had spent time with scholars and monks, studying their texts.
Placing the single letter in Neil’s mouth did nothing.
“What else?” asked Hazel. “Can we paint it onto his mouth?”
Pangur Ban leapt onto Neil’s chest and Hazel almost pulled her off. But the light animal could do no harm. The cat peered into Neil’s mouth.
The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series) Page 96