“It might,” Umber said. “Mind you, I’ve never tried it before.”
“Then how do you know what to do?”
Umber tugged at his nose. “I, er, did some research.” He quickly diverted the conversation. “But if this fails, we have other options. We’ll go ask Smudge, our archivist, what he might know about you.” Hap frowned, remembering the wild man who’d thrown rotten fruit at him and Lady Truden.
“And if that yields nothing,” Umber said, “there’s someone else we can talk to. But since we both need to stay relaxed right now, I’ll say no more about that.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s begin, Hap. First, close your eyes and make yourself as comfortable as you can. Good. Now take a deep breath. The deepest you’ve ever taken. Hold it for a moment, and let it out slowly.”
Hap shut his eyes. His chest rose as he filled it with air.
Umber dropped his voice to a slow, soothing hush. “Very nice. Again, Hap, but breathe with your mouth this time … yes. Much better. We’ll do ten more, and I’ll count with you. One. Two. Three. Four …”
Umber kept counting, and Hap kept breathing deeply. Umber told Hap to relax his body muscle by muscle, from his fingers to his shoulders, from his toes to his hips, from his head to his waist. From the moment he’d awoken in Alzumar, Hap had been unsettled, endangered, and hopelessly lost; but now he felt like a rope tied with a thousand knots slipping loose.
Umber whispered, suggesting images that came to life in Hap’s mind. Hap walked down imaginary stairs, feeling more at ease with each step down. He envisioned a cask filled with all his concerns, and the spigot opened up and the worries drained away. He pictured a shining candle in a dark room and pretended that nothing else existed. The world faded away. The lids of his eyes seemed to flutter on their own. Is this what sleep is like? he wondered.
Umber told Hap his right arm was as weightless as a feather—so light that it would begin to rise. And it did, floating up at Hap’s side, until Umber told him to let it fall.
“Wonderful,” Umber whispered. Then he asked Hap to remember. He took him back in time.
Remember sailing into Kurahaven.
Remember riding the leviathan barge, and the smell of spices inside.
Remember standing on the beach, watching Mount Ignis erupt. Do you remember?
“Yes.” Hap sighed. “I remember.”
Now imagine that you take a step backward, and it brings you farther back in time. Remember how we ran through the dark streets of Alzumar. Are you there? Do you remember?
“Yes.” Hap remembered it with perfect clarity, down to the clatter of claws as the tyrant worm pursued them. His nose was stung again by volcanic fumes.
Now step farther back. You’re in the room where we found you. Right before we found you. Do you remember?
“Yes.”
Tell me about it.
“I’m on my back. My cloak feels damp. The stone is warm. I have a cloth over my eyes. A man is with me. I don’t know who he is.”
Step back again, to the first moment you can remember. The instant you became aware.
“I … I open my eyes. I can’t see.” Hap felt a tiny shiver, deep inside his chest.
Hap. Listen carefully now, and concentrate. I want you to go farther. Before that moment.
Hap groaned.
Focus, Hap. Just step back a little farther in time. An instant before you opened your eyes. What’s happening?
Hap gritted his teeth and concentrated. “I … wait. Something. It’s strange. I still can’t see. But someone is holding me. Carrying me.”
Who? Is it the same man?
“I … I think so. It’s him. It’s WN.”
Where are you?
“I don’t know … I can’t tell. It’s strange … I’m nowhere.”
Nowhere? Umber paused. What’s happening?
“I think … I think we’re moving somehow.”
How? On a boat? Are you walking? Is he carrying you?
“He’s carrying me. But I don’t think he’s walking. I can’t tell!” There was a hitch in his breath.
It’s all right, Hap. Don’t be afraid. Can you tell me anything else? Do you hear anything, see anything?
Hap shook his head.
Try to go back a little more. Before the man was carrying you.
Hap’s face twitched. “It’s hard …”
Try, Hap. Just one more step. Try.
Hap forced his mind to push back. But it was moving into a fierce wind. With his fists clenched, he tried again.
His back met something hard, smooth and cold, and a chill ran through his bones. A gathering fear urged him to snap out of this trance, but he fought the instinct, sensing that the answer to the mystery was near. He turned around. “There’s something in my way. Like a wall.”
What kind of wall? There was a new trace of excitement in Umber’s hushed voice.
Hap put his palms against the barrier. “It’s cold. Like ice, or glass.” He stared into it. It was murky gray, with tiny lines and bubbles trapped inside. He looked right and left, and the wall disappeared both ways, into a darkness that even his nocturnal eyesight couldn’t penetrate. Some dim instinct told him to follow the wall to his left, and so he walked sideways, keeping his hands on the frigid surface. Before long he came upon a strange pattern in the wall: a series of concentric, imperfect circles, almost like the lines that would form if he dropped a stone in still water. The wall seemed thinner here. He could almost see through it.
What’s happening now? What do you see?
“There’s something on the other side of the wall. It’s dark and blurry…. It looks like someone waving his arms.”
I don’t think the wall is real, Hap. It’s there to keep you from remembering what came before. Perhaps you put it there, or someone else did. But you have to get past it if you want to know.
“I can’t,” Hap said. Something rolled down the side of his face. It could have been a drop of sweat or a tear. He felt Umber’s hand close on his shaking wrist.
You can. Imagine the wall breaking. Make it happen. Start with a tiny crack, and make it grow. You are in control, Hap. Nobody has the right to wall your memories away.
Hap drew in a great breath and held it. He put his nose near the wall and focused all his will on the distorted circle at the center of the rings, ignoring the dark blurry shape on the other side that frantically waved. “Break,” he said. He put his hands on either side of the circle and pushed.
There was a sound in his mind: Tik. Tik. A flaw appeared in the middle of the circle, and it turned into a crack, bending as it spread in a jagged path. The cold stung his hands, but he ignored the pain and kept pushing. His arms trembled, and the cold spread through his wrists and past his elbows.
Hap. Your arm is getting cold. I think—
“Wait! It’s working,” said Hap through chattering teeth. The crack spread, and the sound grew louder: TIK. TIK. The single jagged line spawned a dozen more, radiating outward.
Umber seized Hap’s shoulders. Hap could barely feel it, because his arms had gone numb as the cold swept past them and surrounded his heart.
Hap, come out of it. When I count to three, you will wake up!
“Wait!” cried Hap. “It’s going to—”
One! Two!
The wall shattered.
CHAPTER
15
Hap didn’t know how long he’d been screaming. Long enough for his throat to feel like it was on fire.
A pure and total terror had flooded every pore of his body. It was blinding, deafening, overwhelming. His arms thrashed. His legs kicked. His head jerked.
Powerful arms clutched him around the waist. Umber’s voice finally penetrated his consciousness, slipping in between his screams. “Happenstance! Look at us! Open your eyes!” When he heard the word eyes, Hap realized that his were closed. His lids sprang open, and he saw where he was: still on the terrace of the Aerie. But he wasn’t under the fruit tree now—he was straddlin
g the balcony, with one foot dangling over the edge. When he saw the sheer drop below, his screams took on a higher pitch.
“Stop shouting! It’s annoying!” bellowed another voice into his ear. It was Oates, who held him from behind. Hap screamed three more times: Aaah! Aaah! Aaah! Then he screamed noiselessly until the need for air made him gasp for breath. His arms and legs went limp, and Oates hoisted him up and cradled him in his arms.
“You almost jumped, you idiot,” said Oates. “I caught you by the heel.”
Hap wanted to say he was sorry, but he couldn’t speak yet. Oates carried him back to the bench, where Hap drew his knees to his chest and squeezed them. Umber sat beside him, looking white in the face. He fanned himself with one hand and forced a chuckle. “Didn’t expect that.”
Hap covered his face with his palms and wept. Umber patted his knee. “There now, Hap. I’m sorry I brought that on. Take your time answering, but … did you learn anything?”
Hap choked out a reply. “It was just … fear. And darkness, and terrible cold. It was almost like …” He clenched his teeth.
Umber spoke in a hush. “What, Hap? Tell me.”
Hap gulped. “Drowning.” He shivered again. “The way water scares me … this was like that, but a thousand times worse.” He wrapped his arms around himself. It felt as if slivers of ice were running through his veins, piercing him from the inside. “But I’ll never do that again. If that’s what sleep is like, I’m glad I don’t sleep. And I’m glad I don’t dream.”
An hour later, Hap was back in the tiny room he’d chosen for his own, lying on his bed under a heavy pile of blankets. The glass windows were swung shut and a dozen candles blazed on the wide sills, filling the room with warm light.
“Cozy,” Umber said. “I like this place, Hap. You chose well.” He sat on a wooden rocking chair that he’d dragged in from another room. It creaked as he eased it back and forth.
Hap sat with his back against the wall. He stared at his hands to see if they’d stopped shaking.
“Feeling better?” Umber asked, still rocking.
Hap nodded. He rubbed a hand under his nose.
“Anything else bothering you?”
Where do I start? Hap thought. The hypnosis had been a disaster. He was still a blank slate, with most of his mysteries intact. He ached to know what the rest of the note said, but it was clear that Umber would reveal its contents only when he was ready. Hap wondered what he could ask to tease out some answers. “I just … I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know what you want from me.”
The rocking chair poised in a forward lean. Umber put his elbows on his knees and made a steeple of his fingers. “Happenstance. Honestly, I don’t know what you’re here for either. As for what I want—well, all I ask is that you consider this your home, and me your friend. Also, you need to come with me when I want to take you somewhere.”
“Because that’s what the note says you should do.”
“What makes you think that?” Umber asked as he narrowed his eyes and stared at Hap without blinking.
Hap’s stomach soured. He opened his mouth to reply, but was saved by a gentle knock on his door. He sat a little straighter when he saw Sophie peering in. She had a basket in the crook of her damaged arm.
“Sophie, dear,” Umber said. “Come in.”
She stepped inside, keeping her dark eyes cast down.
Umber stood. “How goes the artwork, Sophie?”
“Pretty well, Lord Umber,” Sophie told the floor.
“Much better than that, I’m sure,” Umber said. “Show Hap what you’ve brought.”
Sophie offered the basket to Hap without looking at him. Hap set it on his lap. It held a half-dozen books bound in leather. Hap read the gold-foiled words on the cover of the topmost volume:
The Books of Umber:
The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of Kurahaven
“These books are my passion, you know,” Umber said. “Here are just a few; there are more in my archives downstairs. This world is filled with amazing creatures and strange histories, Hap. I explore them and chronicle them in these volumes. One day I’ll share them all with the world. But for now, they can keep you occupied while the rest of us sleep. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find something to prod your memory.”
“That would be nice,” Hap said.
Umber smiled. “Imagine not needing sleep. You could read all night, every night. I envy you, Hap; all those extra hours to stuff your brain. As for me, I can barely keep my eyes open another minute. Spend the night however you wish. You’re safe as long as you stay inside. Good night, young friend.”
“Good night, Hap,” Sophie whispered, backing out of the room.
“Good night,” said Hap.
Umber paused in the doorway. “By the way, Hap, we still have men waiting by the docks to see if Occo turns up at midnight. The trap is set, but I doubt our wounded friend will show.”
Hap listened to the Aerie settling down for the night. Umber’s steps rose in pitch as he ascended the stairs to his rooftop tower. A door closed somewhere down the hall—Sophie’s room, Hap figured. He heard Balfour tell Oates to sleep well. Then it was quiet again, except for the waves scrubbing the foot of the Aerie hundreds of feet below his window. He looked at the other titles in the basket:
The Books of Umber: Origins of the Aerie
The Books of Umber: A History of the Dwergh
The Books of Umber: The Attack on Petraportus
The Books of Umber: The Beanstalk and
Other Londrian Wonders
At the bottom was a volume called The Books of Umber: Magical Denizens of Celador. It seemed like a good place to start; he hoped it might say something about green-eyed, far-leaping, never-sleeping people. He opened the book and propped it across his thighs. But when a sharp voice came through his partly open door and startled him, the volume tumbled off and hit the floor with a whack.
“Master Happenstance.” It was Lady Truden. She pushed the door open and glared at the fallen book. “Those books are precious things. Please treat them with care. How did you get them?”
“Lord Umber had them brought to me,” Hap replied, hating the way his voice squeaked.
She turned her head and stared with one narrowed eye. “Did he. And are you only looking at the pictures?”
“What? No, I’m going to read it,” Hap said. He picked the book off the floor and wiped the leather cover with his sleeve.
“Is that so?” Lady Tru said, as if doubting that he could read. She folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. “I have heard you never sleep. Surely that isn’t true?”
Hap felt his face redden. “It is, my lady.”
That answer did not seem to please her. “How peculiar,” she said. “Well … did Lord Umber tell you what is permissible and what is not?”
“No, Lady Truden.”
“It probably slipped his mind. But as the one who brings order to this house, may I suggest some guidelines?”
Hap bit his bottom lip. “Of course.”
“I think it best that, as a stranger and guest, you stay in your room while the rest of us sleep like normal folk. The Aerie is not a fairground, young man. Unless Lord Umber has explicitly granted you free reign, you might as well remain in here. Do we understand each other?”
Hap understood at least one thing: Lady Truden didn’t like him very much, or appreciate his presence. He looked toward the windows. “Yes, my lady.”
She didn’t say anything else. She closed the door behind her, pushing until it latched, and was gone. If she could have chained and barred it, Hap supposed she would have. He heard her steps move briskly away until another door closed down the hall.
After a heavy breath, he started to read.
CHAPTER
16
Hap sat by his window with the book in his lap, staring at the docks. It was nearly an hour since the clock on the palace tower rang twelve times. His keen eyes saw a lone man pacing on the wooden plank
s, and from this lofty vantage he also glimpsed more soldiers hiding on the decks of the ships.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to see happen. If Occo fell into this trap, he feared someone might die trying to capture him. Perhaps it was better that the Creep didn’t appear. Then Hap could try to believe that his pursuer was gone for good.
As time passed and it seemed less likely that anything would happen, Lady Truden’s words began to gnaw at his thoughts. He wondered what he’d done to earn such disdain. Sure, he’d leaped up to Umber’s window. But Umber had understood. Why couldn’t she? Besides, this was Umber’s house. Umber never gave the impression that Hap should be a prisoner while everyone slept. Lady Truden had drawn that conclusion herself.
Hap drummed the leather-bound book with his fingers and whistled out a long, slow breath. “The Books of Umber,” he said aloud. He wondered if Umber was even now writing a new volume about his latest discovery, a certain green-eyed boy. Hap could just imagine the words: The boy never sleeps… . He can see in the dark…. He is capable of great leaps… .
He grunted and slapped the book against his thigh, and looked at the room he’d chosen for his own. With fresh eyes, he noticed the tiny dimensions and the bars on the windows. Suddenly it seemed like a cage, and he felt like a specimen being held for further study. His skin twitched at the notion.
I have to get out for a while, he thought. Nothing was going to happen at the docks, he was sure. And besides, it would be nice to look over the artifacts downstairs. The others didn’t have to know; he would do it all in the dark. But when he tried to stand up, he realized that something was wrong.
A deathly cold flooded every corner of his body. His legs and arms stiffened like rusted metal. He flexed his fingers, but even those were hard to bend. What’s the matter with me? He tried to call out, but his jaw was frozen. All he could do was whine. A terrible thought raged in his mind: This is death. Or perhaps a taste of what death was like.
The chills lasted only a minute or two, and then a feverish heat came in its place. It started in his eyes, filled his skull with hot coals, and piped molten lead into his bones. Beads of sweat erupted from every pore of his body. For a moment, the air shimmered around him.
Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) Page 12