by Clay Held
The most peculiar item on this newly bestowed bookshelf, though, was a small felt bag, and on it was the same snake symbol as Boeman’s business card. Inside the bag was a chunk of crystal, no bigger than a rabbit’s foot. Simon rolled the clear rock over in his hands, feeling the smooth lines with his fingertips. Something about this crystal was unsettling, and undeniably connected to Boeman. Finding nothing obviously weird with it though, he set the crystal on the bed and picked up the felt bag--the serpent was embroidered in gold and silver thread, and it felt sharp to the touch. The harder Simon thought about it, the more he began to shudder. He set it down and tried to push it from his mind as best he could, trying to focus on searching the rest of the room. It had been changing off and on all day, growing numerous little touches that made it look more like home--a trunk like the one they used as a coffee table had appeared in the corner, next to a stack of old video game magazines, and Simon had found some shirts under that bed that matched ones he had at home, even down to the rips and stains. There was even a loose floorboard behind the couch, but nothing was in the space beneath. Despite all the best efforts by the room, nothing could shake the foreignness of it all, and the shelf and its contents were the centerpiece of all the strangeness.
There was a knocking at the window--Luke peered at Simon from the outside. Simon set the plain brown book back on the shelf. “I thought I said to meet me in the garden.”
“This way’s quicker.” Luke eyed the crystal on the bed. “I see you’ve hit the gift shop.”
“Shut up.” Simon put the crystal back in the felt bag on the shelf, then hesitated for a moment before grabbing his backpack from the floor. He dumped the contents out of the bed and slung the empty pack over his shoulder. “We might need this,” he said.
“Good thinking,” said Luke. “When we get to the Archives, we go straight to Dark Bargains, okay?”
“We need to go to Mr. Nettle’s office.”
“Well, good for you,” Luke said. “After I get what I want. That was the deal--you help me, then I help you. In that order. We shook on it,” he added when Simon started to object.
Simon felt a small pang in the palm of his right hand, reminding him of his promise. “Okay,” he said. “What you want first, but we can’t take forever.”
“I wouldn’t, even if I could,” Luke said. He looked to his shoulder.“You ready?” A small magenta blip on his shoulder winked once. “All right, let’s go.”
“This way?”
Luke was already halfway to the ground. “Yep,” he whispered.
Simon sighed and swung his legs out the window. He had forgotten that his room was on the seventh floor, and the shock of how high up he was killed his breathing. His head swam dizzyingly, and he fought against the wild panic which was suddenly shaking him, and he grasped tightly, clinging as hard as he could to the window sill and vines.
“Relax!” Luke hissed. “Find the vine next to you. Use it to climb down.” Luke lowered himself down the vine, reaching the ground before Simon had even moved.
Simon steadied himself. He could do this. All he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the vine and don’t look down. Keep his eyes straight ahead at the side of the manor, and work his way to the ground. If Luke could do it, he could too.
Yet despite all these very compelling reasons, his hands and feet stayed planted where they were. He was stuck to the side of house, and he suspected he might stay there until morning, and he just might have, if Luke had not hissed “We had a deal!” The words not only roused Simon from his thoughts but also caused a great stinging pain to bloom in his hand. In shock he let go of the vines, and then he was losing his footing. In an instant Simon went from imitating one of the numerous stone gargoyles that perched along the exterior into a free fall.
CHAPTER TEN
THE ARCHIVES
Simon hit the ground with a sickening thud. He lay there, completely motionless as the stars heaved in a dizzying dance overhead. Terror fed on him while he laid there, unable to move. He was numb everywhere, save for a sick feeling in his stomach. He closed his eyes, and darkness swam all around him, coating him like sticky, black tar. He lay there and breathed, one breath, two breaths, one after another, no sense of time until his head stopped swimming and feeling began to return to him. Luke’s voice slowly floated down to him.
“Bats,” Luke said. “This is just bats. Simon, can you hear me?”
Simon could hear him, but he could not tell if he gave any sign he did. At most, Simon was confident he had managed a weak grunt and maybe a moan. Feeling slowly crept back over his body as he lay there, silently cursing. There had been no pain, he realized, only numbness, which scared him. It was scarier to feel nothing, he realized, than to feel pain.
Slowly, excruciatingly, he worked his arms, and then the rest of his body slowly followed, sitting up but still breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes, Luke stared at him wide-eyed.
“Dogs and devils,” he said. “How are you even still alive?”
Simon continued to breathe deep. “I’m not sure,” he said.
“That was over a hundred feet,” Luke said, still in disbelief. “Maggey, how?” The twinkle shot from Luke’s shoulder and looped quickly around Simon, zipping into his face and tangling his hair. She flitted so close to him that she made his forehead tingle.
“We need to get going,” Simon said, managing his way to his feet, uncertain at first but finding his balance quickly.
Maggey zipped back towards Luke’s shoulder, bobbing around his head a moment. Luke seemed to be listening to her. “What?Nothing?” He looked at the fairy, then back to Simon. “There’s something not right about you, Stray.”
“Good for me.” Simon grabbed his backpack. “Let’s go.” He moved quickly away from the spot where he fell. They were out in the open, and that was bad enough, but the spot also unnerved him.
They made their way away from the manor, finding the North path in the dark. Walking along the path, Simon saw the Grim House again, standing silent witness to their sneaking about. The huge empty windows stared into Simon, the darkness behind them appearing every bit as sticky and alive as the darkness that had coated him when he fell. He shuddered and quickened his pace.
They made their way to the Archives, slipping around to the back of the building. Lights still burned inside, and shadows moved around in the windows. Simon ducked beneath the window. “There’s still people in there.”
“The Archives don’t sleep,” Luke said. “Less people at night though. Nobody should notice us. We go in through the back door, then up the staircase to the left. Third floor, got it? Act natural, like we’re supposed to be here. You act nervous, like we don’t belong, and they’ll throw us out.” Simon nodded. “Get the door,” Luke added.
Simon pulled the door open. They entered the Archives and found the stairwell, where they began their quiet, deliberate climb to the third floor, never once seeing another soul. In the back of his mind Simon began to doubt all the floors were open access this late at night. On the third floor landing, they found a simple door, flanked on either side by a plain wooden table covered in pamphlets and papers. On the door, set in gold paint against the glass, was a list of subjects:
REVENANTS & NECROMANTIC RITES
DARK BARGAINS
BLOODLINES
“Pleasant material,” Simon whispered. “Aren’t they missing Devils and Supernatural Horrors?”
“Sixth floor,” Luke said, without any hint of joking. He grabbed the doorknob. “We’re here. Section 6, row J3. Bottom shelf.”
“So, what are you looking for?”
“Book.” Luke peered through the keyhole before turning the handle.
“Just one?”
“It don’t concern you.” Luke opened the door slowly. It swung open silently, revealing nothing but darkness ahead. Maggey zipped off Luke’s shoulder and darted down into the room, casting a pink-and-purple haze over the shelves. “What’s the matter, Stray? Worried you mig
ht miss bedtime?”
“Shut up.”
“Section 6, then. Hurry up.” Luke stepped through the door and walked headfirst after Maggey.
Simon stepped through the door, and his nose instantly jammed with the smell of basement must and old books. Stacks of ancient books towered high over him, reaching up into the dark like decaying old watchtowers, and everywhere, yellowed pieces of paper littered the floor, overturned tables and broken chairs scattered throughout the dusty room...
His head spun as his vision-memory of the room regurgitated in his mind. He had seen this place before, in his vision behind the Paw. The nausea didn’t hit him like it had the night before, it flitted over him for just a moment then quickly faded away. The sudden familiarity of the place nevertheless startled him, and he steadied himself against a nearby shelf. It was wet and sticky. Luke was unfazed by the room. He was already down the aisle, counting off the rows of books, searching for Section 6.
Simon took several deep breaths. The image the night before had been so clear, so vivid, that to see it now, right in front of him and matching so perfectly, left him even more shaken than the fall.
A reddish spark winked in front of Simon. Maggey swooped around his head, and this seemed to clear his thoughts, the last remnants of his nausea melting away. “Thanks,” he said. The purple spark bobbed happily in the air, then zipped off to catch up with Luke. Simon followed her, pushing the thoughts of Boeman to the back of his mind. For now, he had to help Luke, if he wanted any chance of finding Sam.
He found Section 6. Luke was busily pulling books off the shelves, flipping through them, scanning each one quickly before slipping them back onto the shelf. “What are you looking for, anyway?”
“I told you, spells and incantations.” Luke yanked a large book off of the bottom shelf, knocking several smaller books onto the floor. One book fell from the shelf and hit Simon’s foot. Unlike the books from Simon’s room, this book was not brown with gold lettering, but appeared to be bound in black leather. The title Speaking with the Dead shone in bluish-silvery lettering.
Below the title was Boeman’s snake symbol.
He picked it up, mesmerized. “This isn’t coincidence,” the Other Voice spoke in his head. First, the business card, then the felt bag, now this book. He opened it slowly, then flipped through the pages while Luke continued to scour the shelves. “There’s spells in this one,” he said quietly. “Divining, catop...catop-tro-mancy, austromancy...”
“No,” Luke snapped. “That’s not it. You’re not helping at all.”
Simon snapped the book shut. “Well, maybe if you told me what you were looking for, I could help.”
Something new appeared on Luke’s face, something Simon had not seen before: fear. It was gone in a second, replaced by his practiced grin. “The dead are boring,” he said. “I need spells for the living.”
“Why’s that?”
“More valuable,” Luke said, making it all sound so simple. Content to let Luke hunt for himself, Simon sat on the floor and started to flip through the black book while the pile of rejected books continued to grow around Luke’s feet.
“Hey,” Luke finally said after a few minutes. “You’re supposed to be helping.”
“I am,” Simon said, flipping idly through the pages. “There might still be something in here. You don’t know if there’s not.” Luke scowled and went back to his search while Simon flipped through the pages again. One passage grabbed him:
Dreams are a gateway into the realm of the deceased. In dreams, the Moated Veil is pulled back, if only partially. For the trained observer, this can be an excellent opportunity to commune with the spirits, but for one just beginning their training, it is not recommended to journey through the Moated realm alone, for the realm of dreams are often fraught with dangers unprecedented in the waking world....
Even dreams weren’t safe.
“Found it!” Luke snatched a book from the shelf. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Luke said. “I’m putting it in your bag.” Luke tugged at the zipper of the backpack. “A-ha, I see you’ve already got a souvenir in here too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s all right.” Luke zipped the bag shut. “It’ll be our secret. I was never a fan of due dates either. So you got what you’re looking for?”
“No,” Simon said, getting irritated. “I’ve been with you the whole time.”
Luke finished zipping up the bag. “So this brown book in your bag isn’t what you’re here for?”
“No,” Simon said. “I need into Mr. Nettle’s office.”
“Shooting for the big score, I see.” Luke eyed Simon for a very long time, adding Simon up, counting all the cards in his deck. “Nope,” he finally said. “Way too risky. Let’s go.”
Simon stood his ground. “No. I have to go. He has something I need.”
“I’m telling you, it’s too dangerous.”
“I’m going to his office, with or without you.”
“Okay,” Luke said smartly. “Just give me my book and I’ll be on my way.”
“No.” Simon took a step back. “You help me, you’ll get your book.”
“I ain’t going in no Scryer’s office,” Luke snapped. “They can feel your soul for days after you’ve left. No way. Now give me my book and I’m gone.”
Simon dropped his backpack and shot Luke a dark look. “I helped you, Luke. We had a deal.”
Luke cringed, his hand twitching shut. He rubbed his palm and swore to himself softly.
“So that’s how it works,” Simon said. “We made a deal. I upheld my end, and now you have to help me.”
“You barely helped.” Luke flexed his fingers. “Bats. Okay, I’ll help you break in, but that’s it. Once you’re past the threshold, our deal is done. We go our own ways, got it? I’m out, right then, right there.”
“Suit yourself.” Simon grabbed his backpack. “How many books are in here?”
“Just mine and your two,” Luke said, brushing past him. “Which way to the office?” Luke shoved the rest of the books back onto the shelf. A small shadow bolted out from another nearby gap and shot along the floor. Both the boys froze.
“Don’t move,” Luke said. “Don’t move a muscle.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t know.”
The small shadow moved along the floor, staying close to the bookshelf. Two large silvery eyes stopped right in front of Simon, staring straight up at him.
“It’s okay,” Simon said, kneeling to touch the small shadow. “Come here.”
“Are you batty?” Luke snarled. “You have no idea, at ALL, what that--”
The shadow meowed.
Simon recognized the kitten from earlier in the day. “Hello Malkin,” he said, trying to make his voice light and cheerful. The kitten’s big, silvery eyes shone at him from the darkness. It’s little head tilted sideways when Simon talked, its tail flicked idly behind it.
“Good kitty,” he said. “Just be quiet, don’t need to let anyone know we’re here, okay?”
Luke relaxed. “It’s a stupid cat?”
“He found you two,” said a voice behind them. The boys spun around to see Penny standing at the far end of the aisle. Malkin trotted over to her, winding and purring around her feet.
Luke and Simon both jumped, but it was Luke who recovered first. “You need to stop doing that, Strawberry.” He smiled. “I might start thinking that you like me.”
Penny said nothing while Simon continued to stare daggers at Luke.
“Maybe you can help us,” Luke continued, unfazed. “We were just looking for Needham’s Notes on the Big Muddy Monster. We in the right section?”
Penny placed her palm on the end of the long line of bookshelves and closed her eyes. “You took something,” she said after a moment. “Messed the whole shelf up, too. That’s going to take forever to straighten out.” She let out a light, little sigh.
&nbs
p; “Well, we’ll let you get right to it,” Luke said, backing up the aisle. “Come on, Simon. Let’s let the pretty girl work.”
“Put it back,” she said sternly. “I don’t care what it was. Just put it back anywhere and I’ll straighten them all out in the morning.”
“We didn’t take anything.” Luke held his hands out wide. “See? Nothing?” She stared at them. A moment later a book from one of the higher shelves suddenly fell, hitting him on the head. “Hey!” he said. “Now what’d you do that for?”
“For lying,” she said. “Now put it back.”
“Now look here bookworm--” Another book, this time a much larger and heavier one, fell onto the floor, right next to Luke. Luke stared at her in shock. Penny watched him with great interest, her hand still on the shelf, her head tilted, cat-like, waiting on what he might say next.
“I ain’t got nothing!” Luke held his arms out to his side. “Where would I hide it? Huh? I got nowhere to put it.”
“He could,” Penny looked at Simon.
“I didn’t take anything,” Simon said, looking at Luke, who returned a serious look back at him, then smiled.
“Thirteen books are missing from this shelf,” Penny said. “I know seven books are checked out, and four are currently being read. That leaves two missing, and you two are right here, why should I believe you didn’t take it?”
“I swear it,” Luke said, picking his words carefully. “I swear I do not have anything stolen on me.” He turned to Simon. “Swear.”
“But, I--”
“Swear,” Luke said. “Swear you didn’t take anything.”
Simon realized what Luke was doing. He did have the book, but he had not taken it. Likewise, Luke had taken the book, but he did not have it. “I swear I did not take anything,” he said quietly. A gentle pulse moved through him, causing goosebumps to erupt on his skin. He tried not to show it, but the sensation left him feeling sick for a moment.