The Lord of the Curtain

by Billy Phillips

  “Think?” Natalie said worriedly.

  “Say goodbye to Gruncle Derek, Bobby Gramps, and everyone,” Caitlin instructed Peter. “Hopefully I’ll see them sometime, on the other side.”

  “You’ll see them for eternity if we don’t jump now,” Natalie urged.

  Peter hugged Caitlin and Natalie. “Hurry! Or these winds will blow you off course, and you’ll miss the mouth.” His aura shone white.

  Nice. So we might just fall to our deaths.

  And then, with one great thrust, Peter Pan launched himself off the summit.

  Caitlin and Natalie exchanged wary looks.

  A hard rain began to fall. Caitlin and Natalie were drenched in seconds.

  They peered over the edge.

  Sparks sputtered from the volcano.

  “On the count of three,” Caitlin said. She locked her eye dead center on the volcano’s mouth.

  Her soaked auburn hair was plastered to her head from the downpour.

  The sisters counted in unison.

  “One . . .”

  Caitlin sensed movement behind her.

  “Two . . .”

  Someone was creeping up from the rear.

  “Three!”

  She jumped.

  Natalie’s cry echoed in the rain-swept Velarium night. “I’m sorry, Caity-Cakes! I still love you!”

  Caitlin managed a last look up as she dropped into the black mouth of the volcano.

  Her brainiac kid sister Natalie hadn’t jumped!

  Caitlin’s telescopic eye zoomed in.

  Raindrops were spilling down Natalie’s cheeks.

  And then the black-veiled hands of the Enchanter set a gem-encrusted tiara upon her head.

  CHAPTER Forty-Nine

  Caitlin Fletcher had never fallen out of the sky before. Not even in her dreams. But now she really was, and she landed on the ground in a forward tumble, which turned into a front roll, and concluded with her lying flat on her back. Her one eye made out a thin slice of curved light that was the October crescent moon.

  She was dune dry.

  What just happened?

  Strange. It didn’t feel like she’d physically fallen out of the sky. It felt more like she had just crash-landed in a dream.

  And suddenly, she remembered the dream.

  She’d been riding the world’s largest roller coaster—swerving, speeding, curving, and looping at unfathomable speeds. It had whipped through a pitch-dark indoor coaster hangar that was as big as the Milky Way galaxy, literally. A million other roller coasters were also operating in the same space, entwined and crisscrossing one another in an intricate network, hurtling all kinds of life-forms to different locations in myriad worlds dwelling in countless other dimensions. Some life-forms were corporeal, others ethereal, translucent beings with large diamond eyes.

  Some of them exchanged meaningful looks with her as their eyes met. Lifetimes of memories were shared through some kind of unspoken universal language that translated across time and space.

  There had been explosions of light and gas that blazed like newborn stars, and hot cosmic gases of purple and blue that swirled nearby, as well as distant supernovas igniting light-years away. There had been smells of hot sulfur

  mingling with the pristine scents of fresh rain and heavenly gardens.

  She remembered the roar of a million whirling wheels gliding along rails, and the continual whoosh of million-passenger cars rocketing along the ripping, rolling cosmic coaster. And Caitlin had instinctively kept leaning right, as if her body could control the direction of the track.

  It wasn’t a dream, though. Any more than Jack and the fairy-tale dimension had been a dream. She had been hurtling through the volcano and its vast network of interdimensional wormholes!

  Then she remembered that there was one particular coaster car, far off in the distance, looping and curving and then rushing by her to a distant world. Caitlin’s heart had almost stopped when she saw it, because she thought she recognized the people in the passing coaster—her mom and dad?

  But then her own coaster had suddenly slammed on the brakes to the screeching sound of scraping metal, and the car jerked to a full stop, flinging her from her seat.

  She remembered nothing else.

  Now here she was, lying on the grass in deafening silence.

  It smelled so familiar.

  Like the English countryside during a crisp October fall.

  Like the charming town of Guildford.

  She turned her head to one side. The cool, crisp grass pressed against her cheek. She read the name on the headstone silently to herself.

  Charles Dodgson.

  Aka Lewis Carroll.

  I’m back!

  Then the memory of what had transpired hit like a hammer, inflicting a blunt wound on her soul.

  Natalie!

  Before she could unpack her next thought, half a dozen hands flashed in front of her face. She took hold of one. More hands reached out from nowhere, latching on to her wrists and forearms, and pulling her to her feet.

  She straightened up, locked her knees, and stood firm.

  She glanced around.

  One. Two. Three. No, wait . . . there’s four . . .

  Her eye strained, desperate to convince her mind of what it was counting.

  Five. Six. Seven . . .

  Her jaw dropped as if in slow motion as the shock gradually registered.

  She gasped.

  Hands cupped her mouth and nose.

  Her legs buckled beneath her again.

  CHAPTER Fifty

  Jack Spriggins, Barton Sullivan, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Piper, Paige, and other kids from her school were all gathered in the graveyard at Mount Cemetery. Even Erwin Spencer was there. And the Kingshire social studies teacher and Halloween Masquerade Ball bouncer, Mrs. Sliwinski, as well. They were all staring at her, agog.

  The shock of the moment and the emotional trauma of her recent ordeal paled in comparison to the feelings that unexpectedly gripped her like a manacle.

  Embarrassment. Shame. Over her looks. Her missing eye. She was wearing a patch. Fearful of being labeled an ugly duckling. And worse, her guilt about being concerned with such vain issues when so much more was at stake.

  She bowed her head. Bit her lip. Exhaled. Anything to avoid looking anyone in the face.

  What are they all doing here? How did they know?

  Was it her post? Blog? Her message to Barton?

  She forced to herself to resist the flood of self-conscious doubts that were beating her up on the inside. She had too much to tell them. She began hyperventilating.

  “You don’t understand,” she said frantically, forcing the words out with her breath.

  Jack hushed her quiet as he took her in his arms.

  Caitlin melted, burying her face in his warm chest. His fresh, foresty scent comforted her. Her other friends gathered around them, and she felt their gentle hands caressing the back of her head, patting her back.

  Caitlin sobbed out the words through tears.

  “We were at the summit. Mount Velarium. The Enchanter. He’s taken Natalie.”

  Jack tightened his embrace.

  Caitlin wept as she wrapped her arms tighter around Jack.

  Someone leaned in close to whisper in her ear, “We’re here to help you.”

  Barton.

  Caitlin withdrew from Jack and turned to him.

  His jasper-green eyes stared intently into Caitlin’s eye. “We’ll take care of this, Caitlin.” He hugged her tight. She smelled his musky cologne.

  Cinderella came forward and tapped her on the shoulder. “Listen up, kiddo. That depraved pile of drapes has no clue what’s coming.”

  Caitlin turned to Cindy. It warmed her heart to see Cinderella aga
in, but how awful and tragic that it had to be under these circumstances.

  Sleeping Beauty yawned. “I dreamed you lost your eye. I saw what was happening. So I warned everyone.”

  “How do we get Natalie back from the Enchanter?”

  Beauty raised a single eyebrow. “Did it rain on the summit?”

  “At first, no. But then the Enchanter made it rain. To fill the Dipping Pools and regain his power.”

  Beauty shook her head adamantly. “No, Caitlin. He cannot alter the world. He can form clouds, but he cannot make it rain.”

  “Then who made it rain?”

  “Natalie.”

  Huh?

  “When she didn’t resist his beguiling words in her mind, her violet sparks transferred over to him. That was the rain you felt!”

  Caitlin shook her head, speechless.

  “And I had another dream moments ago,” Beauty added. “A vision.” She was addressing the whole group now. “They’re coming here. To this world. Your world. Tonight. Halloween. The werwulves. The Blood-eyed. A full-scale invasion. They’ve been setting up their portals for some time now.”

  “Portals where?” Barton asked.

  “Patcham—the city where James Halliwell-Phillipps is buried.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He wrote The Three Little Pigs. And also Wolvercote Cemetery, where J. R. R. Tolkien is interred. And Great Crosthwaite, where Robert Southey, the author of Goldilocks is buried. And—”

  “Wait!” Caitlin interrupted. “I don’t get it. If this is a battle for Eos, why is the Enchanter sending his ghoul army from hell over here?”

  Sleeping Beauty’s face was enigmatically calm. “Earth is Eos.”

  Oh my gosh!

  A tidal wave of questions swam through Caitlin’s head.

  Jack balled his hands into fists. “We need to spread out. Post people at all the gravesites. We’ll need airline tickets. Maps. More soldiers.”

  Barton spoke up. “I’ll round up the nastiest crew of rugby players you ever saw. And I’ll cover the costs.” Barton winked at Caitlin and flashed a smile. “Sullivan family credit card. Might as well use the money for a worthy cause.”

  “I’ve got credit cards, too,” Piper volunteered. “My dad will thank me if we save the world.”

  Sleeping Beauty continued, “The blood-eyed werwulves—the ones who walk upright—I saw them on your streets. They’re coming for Caitlin. And the rest of those relentless monsters won’t stop until they destroy her—and your world.”

  Snow White was on the verge of sobbing. “So much devastation.”

  Caitlin couldn’t find the air for her next breath.

  Beauty added, “This was the Enchanter’s plan all along. But that fiend needed Natalie first.”

  “How many of these werwulf ghouls are coming here?”

  “Thousands.”

  Caitlin did a double take. “What? We’re totally outnumbered!”

  “No,” Barton said. “You’ll post online again. The call to action. We can round up volunteers from your online post.”

  “Are you serious? Did you not read the comments I got after I posted that? I got ripped open. Slammed. People think I’m psycho.”

  “No, Caitlin. You actually have a major squadron behind you now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Erwin Spencer stepped forward, thumb-scrolling the smartphone in his hand and sporting a smart-aleck grin on his face. “I hacked the doctor in revenge,” Erwin said proudly.

  “J. L. Kyle?”

  “The one and only. Found your original transcripts. I posted them. You touched a lot of people’s hearts.” Erwin presented her with the comments mounted on his phone’s screen.

  Thanks, Caitlin! Ur story moved me. I’ve had panic attacks since I was fourteen. U gave me hope. Courage. U rock.

  You wanna fight evil of all evil? I’m down like a clown, Charlie Brown.

  And I’m up for it.

  I’m game too.

  Count me in, Caitlin.

  I can dance to that.

  Not afraid to die in battle. I die every day during these panic attacks.

  Just tell me when and where, when and where, when and where—ooops, a bit of OCD.

  I’m all in.

  I freaked out two days ago in the mall. Couldn’t breathe. Thought I was dying. My mom said it was an anxiety attack. I read your post. I get it now. I really get it. On board w ya.

  There were countless more.

  “And did you know Doctor Creeptard shot you up with sodium pentothal? It’s in the transcripts.”

  Caitlin hadn’t known that.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of him as well.”

  Watching wiry nerd Erwin Spencer talk tough made her laugh inside instead of crying like she had been about to.

  Jack Spriggins punched his fist into his open palm. “It’s time. Let’s do this!”

  Caitlin’s face suddenly hardened. She was adamant when she said, “You guys go! I’m staying right here at Mount Cemetery till Natalie gets back.”

  Barton grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you crazy?”

  Jack grabbed her away from Barton. “Are you a loon?”

  Caitlin pulled away from both boys.

  “Yes, I’m as crazy as a loon. I know Natalie. She’ll make it back. I’m not leaving this place till she returns.”

  Jack nodded in resignation and turned to Barton. “Leave her for now. She needs some space. And rest. We need to move out.”

  Sleeping Beauty’s face was a mask of concern. “Jack’s right. We’re almost out of time.”

  Rapunzel spoke next. “Barton, how long till you recruit more people?”

  “Fast. A few texts to a few chaps. Erwin will round up the volunteers.”

  “Good.” She nodded. “Everyone, listen up. We’ll meet up at Barton’s house to map out our strategy and receive final instructions.”

  The faces of Piper, Layla, and Paige were pale with concern, but they seemed totally committed to the cause.

  Piper kissed Caitlin on the cheek. “Will you be okay here?”

  Caitlin nodded. “And thank you for helping. I have no words to—”

  Piper covered Caitlin’s mouth with her fingertips. “You don’t have to say anything. To be honest, I’m a little bit spooked right now. I mean, I read your posts. And Barton and Jack and Sleeping Beauty explained everything to us, but . . . well, seeing Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel in the flesh . . . this is all so freaky.”

  Piper shifted her gaze to Caitlin’s eye patch. She smiled. “And you look absolutely gorgeous—a genuine badass pirate. Brilliant. No one will dare tussle with you.”

  Mrs. Sliwinski ambled over and pinched Caitlin’s cheeks. Undoubtedly, she was tougher than the whole lot of them. “Don’t you worry, my dear. No zombies are going to crash this party as long as I’m at the door.”

  “So you believe me?”

  She smiled. “Long before I was a social studies teacher, I taught English lit. I know the power of these stories. The reality of the human imagination. And I never missed an episode of The X-Files. I know strange things are happening all the time, and we only need to open our eyes to see behind the curtain.”

  “We go now!” Jack shouted.

  Barton led the way out of Mount Cemetery, and the group followed.

  Before she could blink her eye, Caitlin was suddenly standing alone. The moment seemed so surreal, she thought the last few minutes might’ve been a dream.

  Without warning, an excessive tiredness overwhelmed her. Her legs also ached from the climb up Mount Velarium; her calf and thigh muscles cried out for relief.

  Instead of fighting the sleepiness, she embraced it, for it also distracted her from the hurt in her heart over Natalie.

  Bes
ides, she had no choice. Drowsiness was consuming her. Her eyelids were closing. She had to lie down.

  Only for a few minutes, she promised herself.

  Caitlin laid right down on the lawn, curled up into a comfortable position, and rested her heavy head on her arm. The air was crisp, cool, earthy, and damp. Someone nearby in Guildford was burning a fire. Grassy, leafy scents filled her nostrils—the familiar fragrances of autumn.

  She was aching for a cup of hot apple cider.

  Before she slipped into slumber, she glanced up at the sky with a tired, tearful eye. She searched and found the second star to the right in the eastern sky. She offered a prayer and a wish before her bedtime in the cemetery.

  She prayed that Peter Pan would help Natalie. And she wished her kid sister would somehow find the light. Somehow find her way back home by the break of dawn. And then maybe, just maybe, by that first blush of daylight, her beloved Girl Wonder would be waiting for her when that morning sun rose and Caitlin awoke after some much-needed shut-eye.

  EPILOGUE

  Dawn broke as a thread of daylight began verging on the eastern horizon. Not enough to wake her. Then came the girl’s whisper. The words entered Caitlin’s sleep, and she was delighted to hear them.

  “Wake up.”

  She was aware that she was in the middle of a dream, and hopeful that she would find her prayer had been answered when she finally awoke.

  She willed herself out of slumber, forcing her eye open.

  I’m still here.

  Mount Cemetery.

  I must’ve slept right through the night.

  She glanced around, anxiously searching for Natalie. But the graveyard was still dark and as deadly silent as its interred inhabitants.

  The girl spoke again. “Are you up? If you are, please help me out of here.”

  The voice was coming from the grave of Lewis Carroll!

  Caitlin leaped to her feet. She clawed her fingers into the dirt and began shoveling away piles of freshly uprooted clods from the top of Carroll’s burial site.

  A girl’s hand poked through the portal.

  “Natalie, you did it!” Caitlin shouted with glee. “I knew it!”