A distraught Merlin begged in vain to return to his classroom. He called every one of the parents to try to explain the situation, hoping that at least one of them would understand. They either hung up or spewed insults at him and called him a maniac. How could they possibly believe in other universes and passageways buried by time?
Cosmo’s father learned about his theory one evening when he’d given up his precious research to go to one of the meetings for the saviors without their saved, the unrecognized heroes who had gathered to talk about their search results. To switch the focus from their own lack of progress, they berated the poor professor into agreeing that there was clear evidence of derangement. He frowned at their unkind remarks and made a mental note to be on guard around them. He hadn’t been aware of these phone calls. His wife was out of reach in some faraway place and was unaware of their son’s disappearance. He had been locked up all day in his laboratory. The housekeeper had answered the phone, thought it was the rantings of some kind of cuckoo, and had taken care not to disturb her employers. She had done her duty, so he couldn’t really be angry with her. That night, however, he didn’t head straight home.
He drove around town where the people had averted their eyes as his son was growing up. He wasn’t exactly sure where Merlin lived, and above all, he felt reluctant. The pride Merlin must feel for having opened the passageway made him all the more bitter about his own laboratory failures. He would never have believed it if there hadn’t been such a coincidence. He parked his car near a house where it seemed the inhabitants had absentmindedly strewn their trash. Cosmo’s father circumvented ripped open sacks of garbage and made his way to the front door that had been vandalized by insults scribbled in a black marker. It took several knocks before Merlin finally came to the door. He’d become distrustful in a very short time. He opened the door, nonetheless, when Cosmo’s father identified himself.
Merlin invited Professor Scientia into his home and led him to his office in the back of the house.
“I realize it’s a small room, but it’s the only one with shutters I can close. No one will bother us here. And no one will know you’re here.”
“It’s gotten that bad?”
“You can’t even imagine. My friendly neighbors have turned into jackals, the baker refuses to sell me any bread, and the mailman won’t even deliver my mail. They all think I’m a sadist, a soulless murderer, a criminal. The school principal has even alerted me that he’s asked for a background check on me. Fortunately, I don’t have anything to worry about there. You know that, don’t you?”
The professor nodded without adding any reassuring words. In the next minute, it would all play out, his involvement in the adventure, and everything that followed. In mere seconds, his family’s life would be turned upside down, and he didn’t yet know it.
Merlin studied him, and then began questioning him.
“Why did you come here?”
“The children. Where are they?”
“What do you think I did with them? If you’re anything like your son, you must surely have your own theory about it.”
“What I want is to hear is your answer.”
Merlin stood up and walked around the room as he told his story, their story. Cosmo’s father had already guessed a good part of it, though he wondered how his son could have hidden such a life-changing event. For the first time, he realized he hadn’t ever really known him. A revelation that may have intensified his urgency to find his son, to catch up on lost time. He finally felt like a father instead of a professor.
He shrank into his chair as he listened to Merlin describe what the students had reported back to him: monsters in the night, the Duc and his weird antics, the kind people they had met. He was picturing himself discovering a new universe through the eyes of his son and wished he knew how to get there to experience it with him. The shadows in the cluttered, poorly lit room became witnesses to a world he had thought he had kept all to himself.
The long night was filled with tales they shared about missed opportunities and scientific blunders.They spent hours discussing the holes in their knowledge. It wasn’t until dawn had spread over the landscape and slipped through a crack in the closed shutter that they decided to take action. They agreed to meet again that very evening to recreate what had happened using a more scientific approach.
As soon as the school opened its doors, Professor Scientia, with a box of research equipment on the chair beside him, sat waiting in front of the principal’s office. If the classroom really was located above a force field, he would need to measure it. During what was left of the early morning hours before coming to the school, he had become more and more determined that the only way to join his son was to recreate the passageway in his laboratory. Merlin couldn’t help him pass through. Merlin had told him, “Magic encompasses more than just the portal. It also resides in the ones who travel. And it’s only possible if they’re young. Don’t ask me why. I’ve already spent more than enough time wishing I could return to Lalea.” But there’s always a way to go beyond the force of humans.
The principal refused to let him enter the room that had been sealed off. “The investigation, you understand. You could walk over the tracks, scatter some of the evidence. Have faith in what the police are doing and go home.” There was no use asking again, so he began thinking of a way to come back at nightfall. His beliefs had never been stopped by rules and codes. He would forge his own path without worrying too much about ruffling somebody’s feathers.
He called Merlin, and they agreed to meet that evening at the Scientia home. There was no way he would accept being denied access to the only path leading him to his son. He hadn’t expected his wife to arrive that same evening. Messages sent from the other side of the world had finally reached her. As soon as she opened the door, she was ready to dictate a long list. Use her interns to canvas the town. Give new orders to people who had already searched high and low. Meet the investigators to determine when and why they had failed their mission.
She was walking back in the forth in the living room, suitcases thrown haphazardly in a corner, her coat slung over the back of the sofa. The housekeeper had been relegated to the kitchen. Just a secretary scrupulously writing down her plan of action, all the orders she would need to give. She didn’t even greet her husband when he arrived, nor did she slow down her pace. She could barely refrain from accusing him of not doing a better job of searching for their son. He sat down in an armchair, watching her parade in front of him as she articulated her thoughts, cold and methodical. He tried to interrupt her, to tell her about Merlin, but she didn’t listen to him, and continued pounding the rug with her high heels. She had gotten the message while she was attending an official reception. Her latest research required more funding, and rich donors tended to be more generous with beautiful women. He was planning his exit when the housekeeper tapped on the door begging her mistress to eat a little bit so she wouldn’t get sick. He didn’t stay to hear her rail against all those people who knew more than anybody about what was good for them.
Boxes were already packed with all the equipment he would need. He stationed himself outside, ready to leave the moment he saw the approaching headlights of Merlin’s car. He didn’t dare call it running away. It saddened him that he and his wife had reached such of level of misunderstanding; she could have helped him if she had wanted to. But she refused to listen to him, refused to even believe him. It was a relief to see Merlin’s old yellow car appear out of the darkness.
CHAPTER 20 THE EVIL SIDE OF THE HALL
Arthur and the others finally located the hall where their group had been separated. The walls, which they hadn’t noticed when they’d first passed through, rose up towards the high ceiling, bending towards it, and narrowing inward to grab hold and strangle them as the guards had failed to do. A greenish, foul-smelling liquid oozed out of the walls on the side of the hallway where Titiana had been taken way. And in the opposite direction, their eyes were drawn to a lig
ht streaming in from an opening. It was tempting to take the easy way out, to leave. Aidan was already heading in that direction as if the opening were a sign telling them what they should do.
Albin grabbed him right before he slipped out of reach, literally and figuratively. As Albin pulled him back, Aidan kicked and struggled to free himself. Aidan didn’t calm down until they were far away from the photons of light dancing in the air. Albin had decided for all of them, and now they all risked danger on the evil side of the hall. They walked gingerly, fearing— with good reason—trap doors or some other contraption that might snatch them away the moment they made a false step. When the light was a distance memory, a door slammed behind them. A sound filled with spite and mostly fury, a sound that reminded them of jaws closing shut. They resisted turning around, scared that they would see a monster in hot pursuit of them, almost skidding in the turns of the hall as it dug its claws into the ground. Sensing urgency, they increased their speed. Meanwhile, the hall appeared infinitely longer and without a single door to break up the monotony.
They trudged for hours down the interminable hallway with no end in sight. A long time passed without anyone saying a word, preferring to conserve their energy for walking. Finlay, exhausted, had given up, and Arthur, visibly tired, was carrying him. Worry, wavering emotions and the never-ending expedition had gotten the better of their adventurous spirit. Their only option was to keep taking one step after the other. Without a break, persevere.
Time moved so slowly in this part of the world that each second took up the space of many. It seemed they had been plodding along for an eternity, the ground buckling through their eyes blurry with fatigue. Aidan, who was bringing up the rear, felt an unfriendly tap on his shoulder. As he turned to look, the tendons in his neck stretched so much they almost creaked. The time he stood staring at what was in front of him seemed too long. He didn’t immediately grasp the meaning of the presence behind them. He didn’t even think to warn his companions. He stepped backwards, perplexed and dumbfounded. Cosmo sensed danger, having noticed a change in the echo behind him. When he turned around to look at the endless hallway, he realized they had been caught. They were within reach of a smiling Scarface whose jagged lines gave off a greenish glow in the darkness.
“So, my friends, you decided to take a little stroll?”
They backed away and ran, faces frozen in terror. Scarface followed at their heels, taking one step for every ten of theirs. The distance between them that appeared constant was only an illusion. Their tired eyes saw the hallway narrow causing patches of excess paint to crumble to the ground. Scarface loomed larger than ever. Hoping to repeat the exploit that had sent the guards tumbling, Arthur lifted a trembling hand, holding Finlay with the other. When all that came from his fingers was a sizzle and a sliver of white smoke, Scarface let out a mocking laugh that resonated into multiple echoes. Arthur’s body drooped even more until he was backed up against the wall. The hallway was closing in on them.
Suddenly Albin heard a voice say, “The walnuts. Eat a walnut.”
He instinctively slipped his hand into his pocket and found a thick-shelled nut that was half open. Without taking his eyes off Scarface, he pulled it out and raised it to his mouth. Scarface scoffed at him, but there was a hint of uneasiness in his mocking words.
“What’s up my little one? Hungry? You should’ve told me, I would have asked my personal chef to prepare a special dish for you.”
It was the underlying fear in his voice that convinced Albin. He pulled the walnut out of its shell and slowly chewed it. As soon as he swallowed, he felt a buried force swell up in him. He dazzled in his new-found strength, so much so that Scarface hesitated to move towards him. Not for long because he did have a reputation to maintain. But the fraction of a second was enough time for a door to appear along the narrow hallway to his right, equidistant between Scarface and his escapees. He turned red, enraged like a caged animal, and charged towards them. But not before they had scrambled to the door, opened it, and managed to rush through it. With a steady hand, Albin secured the five massive latch bolts and lowered a wooden drop bar into its bracket. He backed away, short of breath, and watched as the door blend into the wall. There were no windows, yet doors popped up and then disappeared on each side of the room, including the floor and ceiling. There was also a child, blond and haggard, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. Big blue eyes lit up his dirty and emaciated face that expressed both worry and relief. He smiled at them as if he knew them and spoke in a light tone similar to that of a flute.
“You need to hurry. The princess is waiting for you.”
Sara could no longer control herself and exploded in anger.
“Listen, you little dwarf. Before we go any farther, I would like to know what’s going on here. Doors suddenly appear out of nowhere, and there’s a guy on the other side who’ll soon be smashing through these walls or will find a key. Our friend has disappeared, you’re talking about some princess we’ve never heard of, and we’re stuck in this world that we don’t know anything about. I want answers, and I want them right now.”
“Calm down, Sara.”
Albin stared at the kid in the patched up clothes that were too big for him. His eyes were drawn to the laughing smiley face on his fluorescent yellow T-shirt.
“Titiana and the princess...they’re the same person, right?”
“Of course. You didn’t know that?”
He looked up at Albin, mildly surprised. Everything seemed light-hearted about him.
“No, we didn’t know that. Maybe you could tell us where to find her.”
“It’s up to you to find her. I’d love to accompany you, but I’m a prisoner here.”
“A prisoner?”
“Yes, I have to stay here. Forever. He says it’s because of the bread. I was terribly hungry, you see. And it smelled so good that I couldn’t stop myself. But it was meant for the Great Destroyer, and he knew how to make me stop. He knows too much magic. Only he and I know that it was a heavy price to pay.”
The child stopped and leaned his head towards the wall behind them.
“You have to hurry. He’ll be here in no time. And he’s angry. I can hear him growling from here.”
Sara felt bad about how she had treated the poor little fellow.
“Come with us, little guy. We’ll protect you. At least as best we can. This isn’t a good place for you.”
“I realize that, but I can’t leave. You see he’s a sorcerer, a powerful sorcerer. Maybe not as great as the Master of Time, but now I’m not so sure about it anymore. He’s almost forgotten about me since he locked me up here. But if he comes into this room and can’t find me, there is no telling how angry he’ll be. I’ll stay here and try to distract him. But go now, hurry up.”
“At least take some of these walnuts. I gather you haven’t eaten in an eternity.”
“That’s true, miss. You’re so kind. But you’re going to need them. Keep them and don’t lose them.”
“Could you at least tell us which way to go? Tell us what’s going on?”
“It’s up to you to find the way. You’ll find the answers along the way. Go now and take care of yourselves. Be careful and watch out for the shadows.”
“Watch out for what?”
“HURRY UP AND LEAVE. HE’S HERE!”
They flew through the first door they saw as they heard the child scream, not needing to turn around to see who was bursting through the crumbling wall.
CHAPTER 21 IN THE CLASSROOM
Merlin and Professor Scientia were able to enter the school’s main entry door without too much trouble. Neither one bragged about his knowledge because they each knew that the most important lessons aren’t always learned in school. Sometimes, you can discover useful bits of information while walking down the street. Like how to turn the bolt of a lock when you don’t have a key.
They turned on their flashlights as soon as they had left the hallway that was visible from the stre
et, and then they crept past classrooms in the building that was usually locked up at night. The school didn’t have an alarm system, but attracting the security guard sitting in his office would have been a bad idea. They figured he would probably stay inside his room until the following morning. Flashlight beams ran along the walls and bounced off each other. Merlin followed behind the bizarre shadow of the professor carrying boxes filled with pieces of equipment that were about to spill out.
They reached Merlin’s classroom without any problem. Strips of adhesive tape covered the door to deter anyone hoping to open it. They stopped. There was no one behind them. No one nearby. Only a closed door reflecting a dull shine from the flashlights they had bought from a local hardware store.
Finally, Merlin moved in front to tear off the fluorescent tape just as the professor was telling him, “You can call me Jules. My parents weren’t very creative.”
Dust had been scattered on the handles of the doors and the closets, the top of the trash can, and the open book satchels. The police had sprinkled powder over everything they could find, except for the bodies. The empty tables had a ghostlike aura. They could almost see traces of the people who had sat there. Jules jumped when the door bumped against the wall, realizing he had been holding his breath since they had crossed the threshold.
Merlin’s hand was shaking as he reached for the light switch. Not because he feared attracting someone’s attention (the classroom windows faced a field where no one would be farming at this time of night), but because he sensed he would be disturbing something waiting for them in the small room. He felt an urge to banish the strangeness of the long shadows their flashlights cast. The light tubes sputtered, taking their time, and then lit up one by one.
The following morning, the tables would be shoved into corner with the chairs piled up close by. To sweep up the dust accumulated from the police officer’s resoled shoes, dust that would soon recoat the area. But also, and more likely, the floors would be doused with diluted bleach to clean out any evil lingering in the cracked tiles. Yet for the moment, nothing had changed in the classroom.
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