Always October

by Bruce Coville

  “I sought shelter with Mrs. McSweeney. Her cat, Luna, carried me home.”

  I burst into fresh tears. Meer Askanza looked at me oddly, but Jacob distracted her by saying, “I don’t understand. I thought that when it came to crossing between worlds, Luna was a one-person cat.”

  “I am a monster, not a person,” replied Meer Askanza, a bit tartly. “The rules are different. Though it broke my heart to leave my child, it was a relief to return home. However, the very moment I arrived in Always October, I felt a strange dizziness and began to … fade. When I became aware of myself again, I was on the Ivory Throne, the new Queen of Sorrows.”

  Her voice broke. Sobbing, she clutched Little Dumpling to her chest. Suddenly she thrust the baby away from her and cried, “Now take him! Take him and return to your own world. If you do not, all I have done, all I have suffered, will be in vain. Take him and go!”

  Little Dumpling wailed when Jake pulled him from his mother’s arms. Standing next to my friend, I gazed down at the baby’s furry face and thought how unfair it was that so much should depend on the poor little guy, who had no idea what was going on.

  “Go!” urged Meer Askanza. “My brother will be following you, be sure of it. The sooner you depart, the safer Dum Pling—and both our worlds—will be.”

  I went to Meer Askanza and gave her a hug.

  As we started past her throne, she said, “One more thing. Once you exit the tunnel, you will be in Flenzbort’s territory. The danger from her will be different from anything you have faced so far. Keep your wits about you. Expect the unexpected. Take nothing for granted. Accept no food or drink. Now go. Go!”

  As we approached the far side of the Veil of Tears, LD cried out and reached back.

  I heard a wail of despair from his mother.

  I saw Jake hesitate, and knew I had to harden my own heart. Grabbing his arm, I said, “We have to go, Jacob!”

  Together, we plunged into the mist.

  32

  (Jacob)

  TWO DOZEN DUMPLINGS

  Lily and I did not speak for some time.

  Toozle, too, was silent. Little Dumpling, however, was whimpering, and cuddled close in my arms. I kept rocking him, murmuring to him soothingly.

  When we reached the end of the tunnel, we found ourselves on the upper rim of a small valley. It stretched below us, silvery in the moonlight. To our right a waterfall plummeted from somewhere above us down to a small lake. From the lake flowed a stream that meandered through the center of the valley. Other small streams flowed from the hills that formed the sides of the valley, joining the main stream so that it grew wider and wider, until it finally disappeared under the cliff that rose at the far side of the valley.

  At the top of that steep rise of rock loomed our goal—Cliff House, home to the Library of Nightmares.

  In the valley itself we saw only one building—a cottage located to the right of the spot where the stream disappeared below the cliff.

  I took a deep breath. “Well, that must be the place,” I said.

  We started down the hillside.

  Flenzbort’s “cottage” looked more like something out of a fairy tale than a monster movie. Its low walls were half covered with vines. Beds of flowers, pale in the moonlight, lined the flagstone path that led to the green door. Three chimneys broke through its thatched roof, as did the dormers that sprouted from several spots.

  “That doesn’t look good,” said Toozle.

  “What do you mean?” protested Lily. “It’s adorable.”

  Toozle snorted. “In Always October any place look that nice probably some kind of trap.”

  “Trap or not, we have to get that bracelet,” I said grimly. “Come on.”

  We walked up to the door. I knocked. The door swung open on its own, revealing a room just as charming as the exterior. A cozy fire crackled in the big stone fireplace. All right, the flames were green and purple, which was a little disturbing. Even so, it felt wonderfully inviting, especially after all we had been through.

  To our right stood a long wooden table, benches on either side. Behind the table a narrow stairway led up to the next floor. To our left four chairs were grouped around a moss-green rug. Beyond them a large loom held a partially finished weaving.

  Directly in front of the fire, her back to us, a heavyset woman was drawing out yarn at a spinning wheel. A basket at her feet displayed a tuft of white fibers. A raven perched on her right shoulder. Another raven, this one walking back and forth on the mantelpiece, croaked, “Come in, come in! It’s scary outside, but nice and warm in here. Or maybe it’s warm outside and scary in here. I can never remember which way that goes.”

  We stepped forward. The door swung shut behind us. The woman turned. Her features were definitely monstrous: greenish skin, a warty nose the size of a potato, and pointed ears topped with tufts of fur. Yet something about her round face and warm smile was oddly comforting, despite the fangs. I reminded myself that the Poets and Meer Askanza had seemed to think this was the most perilous stop on our journey and vowed to stay alert.

  “Well, here you are! I’d been hoping you would make it soon.”

  “You knew we were coming?” I asked.

  Her smile held just a trace of smugness. “Not much goes on in Always October that I don’t know about.”

  “Oh, don’t act so mysterious,” said a familiar voice from the basket at Flenzbort’s feet. “You heard it all from me.”

  With that, Luna—the tuft of white fibers had been the tip of her tail—climbed out of the basket and trotted over to join us.

  Lily burst into tears. “You made it out of the Forest of the Lost!”

  “Very observant,” drawled the cat.

  “But how did you do it?” I asked.

  Luna extended her right front paw and gave it a leisurely lick, clearly in no hurry to answer.

  “Luna!” said Lily.

  “Oh, all right, here’s the story: You can’t escape the Forest of the Lost while you’re in Always October, at least not by any method I know. Fortunately, I didn’t have to stay here. I simply went back to Humana. Once I got there, I had to move to a different place before returning—otherwise I would have ended up right back in the forest. I didn’t know where you’d be when I got back, but I did know you were heading for Flenzbort’s cottage. So I decided to come here to wait for you. Not only was it a good place to meet, it let me skip going through the Tunnel of Tears.”

  “What a lovely reunion,” said Flenzbort. “Touches me right in the pancreas. I see you’ve brought the baby. I assume you’re wanting the magic bracelet that will allow you to return him to Humana without having to worry about him becoming a monster once a month, right?”

  I nodded. Despite her warm smile and cheerful voice, and the lovely surprise of discovering that Luna was here, I was growing more uneasy by the moment.

  “I can’t just give it to you, of course.”

  “Of course not,” said Lily. “That would be far too easy. And it’s not like the fate of the world is at stake or anything.”

  Flenzbort’s face hardened. “Sarcasm is not welcome here, missy. Unless it’s from me, of course. The thing is, there are rules about this sort of magic. Break the rule, break the tool, lose the charm, cause great harm … if you take my meaning.”

  “So what do we have to do to get the bracelet?” I asked.

  “Oh, we’ll get to that, dearie, we’ll get to it. Right now, why don’t I see if I can do something for your face. Those burn marks look pretty nasty. I’ve got some ointment that might help.”

  My face really did hurt, and the offer was tempting. But I thought about my half-aunt’s warning to accept no food or drink, and figured that it might extend to medicine, too.

  “Thank you, but I’d rather just get on with things,” I said.

  “So suspicious for one so young,” she said disapprovingly. “Well, why don’t you join me at the table for a bite to eat?”

  “Oh, we couldn’t do that,”
said Lily. “We don’t have much time, and it’s important that we get to the Library of Nightmares as soon as possible.”

  Flenzbort’s face sagged into such a sad expression, it almost convinced me to ignore the queen’s warning.

  “Not even a wee snack? I made something just for you, because I knew you were coming.”

  “Not even a wee snack,” said Lily firmly.

  “Not even for you?” she asked Toozle.

  “Too sad to eat,” said our little companion, shaking his head. “May never eat again. Half gone, can’t go on!”

  “My, that is tragic,” said Flenzbort. She sighed, then added, “Well, I’m going to eat even if you won’t. Come sit at the table with me. While we’re there, I’ll explain what has to happen next.”

  I glanced at Lily. She shrugged. What could we do? We were in Flenzbort’s home, and she had the thing we needed next. We moved to the table. Holding LD in my lap, I took a spot on one of the benches. Lily sat beside me. Toozle sat on the opposite side, his face barely showing above the table’s edge. Luna jumped up on the table, took one look at Flenzbort’s expression, and jumped back down.

  Flenzbort opened a metal door on the side of the fireplace and pulled out a tray. A spicy-sweet aroma made my mouth water. When she placed the tray on the table, I saw that it was covered with cookies.

  “In case you change your minds,” she said. She took one, popped it into her mouth, and winked at me. “Just to show you they’re not poison or anything. Mmmmm! Delicious, even if I do say so myself!”

  The ravens fluttered over and perched on the back of the chair. Flenzbort settled her ample bottom into it, then rummaged in the pocket of her dress. “I believe this is what you need,” she said, placing a silvery band in front of her.

  “Can I see it?” asked Lily, reaching toward it.

  Flenzbort quickly closed her own hand over the bracelet. “Not yet! First you must pass a test.”

  “What’s the test?” I asked.

  “You’ll find out in a little while. At least, I hope you will. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me what you’ve done along the way? I happen to know you started out with two adults and the other half of this little monster. Seems as if you’ve been a bit careless, misplacing so many members of your group. Oh, well. At least you have your cat back.”

  “That was cruel,” I said.

  “Never said I wasn’t,” replied Flenzbort, taking another cookie.

  LD lurched forward and grabbed one of the cookies too.

  “LD, don’t!” I cried. But before I could stop him, he had popped it into his mouth.

  I felt a surge of warmth in my lap … then nothing. The baby was gone!

  “Oh, good,” said Flenzbort with a smile. “We’re ready for your test.”

  I leaped to my feet, furious, terrified, heartsick. “What have you done with my little brother?”

  The words startled me, but I realized they were true. No matter what our actual relationship—half-cousin-once-removed or whatever—as far as I was concerned, LD was my little brother.

  “Oh, settle down,” said Flenzbort, her voice as calm as if I had just asked for a fork. “The baby is fine. Well, at least, for now.”

  “What do you mean, ‘for now’?” demanded Lily.

  Flenzbort pushed herself to her feet. The ravens fluttered up, then perched on her shoulders. She looked suddenly weary, almost sad. “Come along and I’ll show you.”

  She lumbered over to the rickety staircase. Lily and I followed, Toozle and Luna close behind us.

  The stair led up to a long hallway. Partway down it Flenzbort pushed on one of the doors.

  “The babe is in here. If you can find him, you can have him. Unfortunately, you only get one chance. Them’s the rules and I can’t change ’em.”

  She stepped aside so we could see into the room.

  “Oh, no,” murmured Lily.

  I said nothing, just stared in horror.

  On the floor lay at least two dozen Little Dumplings, all of them sleeping soundly.

  “Pick the right one and you can be on your way,” said Flenzbort. “Pick wrong, and you’ll be really, really sorry.”

  “Why sorry?” asked Toozle.

  “Aside from the obvious reason of the world possibly coming to an end? Well, the rest of those sweet-looking creatures are actually imps. If Jacob picks one of them instead of the real baby, he’ll never get rid of it. And believe me, having a genuine imp around is guaranteed to make your life truly miserable. Also, the baby will have to go live with the imps. Not a good idea.”

  “Lovely,” I said, trying to stay calm despite my churning stomach. “Can I have help?” I asked, hoping maybe Luna could sniff out the real LD.

  “Sorry, got to do this on your own.”

  “Why?”

  Flenzbort shrugged. “Rules is rules.”

  I looked back at Lily. Biting her lip, she held up both hands, fingers crossed, and nodded at me.

  I stepped into the room.

  The babies were all sleeping. I wondered why, then realized that if they were awake, I could have counted on the real LD responding to me. That pinged in my heart. He knew me and trusted me. No, it was more than that. I had to accept it—the little guy loved me.

  And I loved him.

  And now I had to pick him out of the crowd. Well, not a crowd where everyone was different. This crowd was more like one of those puzzles in a kids’ magazine, the ones with six pictures that are almost identical but have tiny differences that you’re supposed to find.

  Except in this case I had some twenty-four Little Dumplings to choose from, not a mere six. And at first they all seemed completely identical. When I looked more carefully, I began to spot small differences. This one had slightly bigger ears. This one had a smaller nose. This one had a tint of red in his fur. But which one was my LD?

  I felt ashamed to think I had paid so little attention to him during the month and a half he had lived with us—then remembered that for all but a few hours of that time he had looked human.

  I looked at the little monsters displayed before me. If I chose wrong, I would be saddled with an imp for the rest of my life. But that was nothing compared to the fact that a mistake might doom Always October to fade into oblivion, even as it doomed my own world to descend into a chaos of fear.

  Then an even scarier thought, because it was so personal, hit me. What would happen to LD if I got it wrong?

  Panic seized me. They all looked so much alike!

  As I stood there, staring, I stuck my hand in my pocket.

  And suddenly I had an idea.

  33

  (Lily)

  TRACK TO THE TOP

  I watched in a state of terror as Jacob tried to pick out the real LD. How could he possibly find the right one? It seemed hopeless, as if he would just have to make a wild guess. Suddenly I saw his expression change. He had figured something out.

  What?

  Pulling his hand from his pocket, he brought with it … LD’s green rattle.

  Brilliant!

  At least, I hoped it was brilliant.

  Crossing my fingers, I prayed, Let this work. Please let it work!

  Jake bent over one of the sleeping babies and gently shook the rattle. The baby blinked, then yawned and rolled on its side. The next baby did pretty much the same thing. The next scowled but did not wake up. The next made a tiny cry, then stuck its thumb in its mouth and went back to sleep.

  Seven babies and no sign of LD. I began to fret that maybe Jake’s idea wasn’t so hot after all, then told myself that LD might well be the last baby he came to.

  As it turned out, on the fourteenth try he struck gold. As soon as he shook the rattle over that baby’s face, its eyes popped open. Looking up at Jacob, he said, very clearly, “Jay-Jay!”

  Then he reached for his toy.

  Jacob pulled LD into his arms and began to cry.

  “Jake did it!” cried Toozle, leaping into the air.

  I wo
ndered how Flenzbort, who was standing next to me, would react to Jacob’s solving her puzzle. To my surprise, she let out a long breath and murmured, “Thank the Seven Sacred Stars. Maybe we have a chance after all.”

  Which was when I realized that she was caught in the same weaving that held us all. Had she set this test because it was her nature as a monster and she could not help herself? Or was it simply part of the magic of the bracelet that Jacob must pass a test to obtain it? Whatever the reason, I was glad it was over.

  Jacob beamed as he stepped out of the room with LD clinging to his neck. Looking past him, I saw that the fake LDs had all vanished, returning to wherever it is that imps come from.

  Flenzbort held out the bracelet. “Well earned, boy. Wear it yourself until you get back to Humana, then put it on the baby. Now, let’s get you on your way. Time is running short.”

  She led us back down the stairs, over to the great fireplace. She smacked the left side of the mantel with her right hand. With a creak the wood slid a couple of inches over, revealing a gap. Flenzbort reached in and fumbled around until we heard a distinct click. As she withdrew her hand, the fireplace pivoted out to reveal a dark opening. Motioning for us to follow, Flenzbort stepped through.

  Once we were all inside, she whacked a spot on the wall. With a rumble, the fireplace swung back into place, plunging us into complete and utter darkness. I heard a scratching sound, followed quickly by a flare of light, and realized that Flenzbort had struck a match. The thought made me laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, her ugly face made all the stranger by the flickering light.

  “It’s just that we’re so used to torches and glowing moss and all kinds of strange ways to get light that a simple match was a surprise.”

  “Well, dearie, whatever gets you through the night is what I always say.” As she spoke, she moved to the wall and took down an old-fashioned oil lantern. She lifted the glass part—called a chimney, I remembered—and lit the wick. The light was brighter and more steady now, and revealed to our left a wooden cart resting on a narrow set of tracks. It was about the size of something that would hold four people at an amusement park. Painted on its side were the words OLD BETSY.