by Marissa Burt
“We’ll see if you feel the same when you reach Boggen’s stronghold. I think you will not find Boggen’s other researchers to be such”—he paused, holding up his knife as if to examine its sharpness—“welcoming hosts.” He gave both of the Fiddlers a wicked-looking grin and moved toward the door. He was looking at Cole when he said this, so he didn’t see the tiny shadow in front of him, the quick flicker of movement that told Wren Jack was on the move. William stumbled, appearing to trip over his own feet. He caught his balance and scowled at the floor.
Wren held her breath. How could Jack be so stupid? To risk exposing them all for a laugh?
She reached out a hand, grabbing in Jack’s direction and making contact. His hand found hers, and she squeezed hard, tugging him toward the open door.
“The stonework there is a bit tricky.” Mary’s too-polite voice was behind them now. “Do take care, William.”
Wren slipped through the open door and pulled Jack around the corner, where they flattened themselves against the wall. William’s guards were out here as well, several of them lingering in the hallway where Jack had picked their pockets. Others were rushing back toward the room with the broken window.
Wren could hear Mary’s firm voice and William’s whiny reply, and then he was there, too, his form blocking out the lights. He slammed the door to Cole and Mary’s prison behind him, the sound of the lock turning soon drowned out by his voice as he called for his guards. “Prepare these two for transport to the stronghold,” he said, ordering the others to join him in the control room.
Wren hardly dared to breathe while the patrols slipped by. A single movement could give them away. All it would take was one observant guard to see a shadow where no shadow should be and their whole plan would be ruined. Luck must have been with them, because the guards were nearly gone, and Jack, for once, didn’t try to pull any stupid pranks. Soon, they were alone in the hallway.
“Did you see him trip?” Jack said with obvious delight. “I would’ve given anything to see him fall flat on his face.”
“You about gave our freedom for it,” Wren said. “The last thing we need is for anything to go wrong. You wait here. Don’t move. I’m serious.”
From the sound of Jack’s soft laughter, Wren wasn’t sure that he cared if she was serious or not, but at least he seemed to be staying put. She slipped over to Auspex’s door, found the right key, turned the lock as silently as possible, and darted into the room, easing the door shut behind her.
Auspex’s quarters weren’t nearly so fine—a plain bed, a small writing desk, a tiny window. The man who must be Auspex was over at the wall, talking to Mary, Wren supposed.
“Hold on,” he said. “Someone’s in here now.”
Wren could hear the low tones of Mary’s voice, the rushed way she spoke. And Auspex himself was nodding, faster and faster. “Yes. Yes. I agree. Very well, Mary. Until we meet again.”
And then Auspex swiveled toward the door. He was a middle-aged man, dressed in a gray shirt and pants, with a long leather coat over all. With his pointed beard and thick eyebrows, he looked to Wren like a pirate from a fairy tale.
“Wren?” he asked the wall opposite her.
“Over here,” Wren said, and then realized that wouldn’t do much good. “By the desk.”
He turned in her direction and gave her a half bow. “Courage and Honor, Wren.”
“Um, right. My friend’s outside, and we probably don’t have much time.” Wren meant that Jack was probably about to do something that would get them all caught, but Auspex interpreted it differently.
“Of course,” he said, grabbing a sheaf of papers from the desk drawer and stuffing it into one pocket. Then he moved to the wall opposite and carefully removed another loose brick, pulling something out of the depths and tucking it in his vest pocket.
Wren watched him gather his things, thinking that Boggen really needed to do something about his loose bricks, and then Auspex was ready.
“Very well.” He turned to Wren with a smile. “Lead the way.”
As he turned, she noticed something hanging around his neck, a talisman she had seen before, though she couldn’t recall where. “That symbol,” she said, describing the circular weave of bronze. “What does it mean?”
“This?” Auspex touched the symbol, which showed a bird in flight above a sword. “This represents the Outsider way of life: peace and courage, the two things we most prize.”
“So if someone wears one of those, they’re an Outsider, too?”
“Of course,” Auspex said, listening at the door for a moment and then opening it a crack.
Wren followed him, racking her brain for where she had seen the symbol before. She thought it was from some time back in the Crooked House, but why there? Or had Vulcan been wearing one? She opened her mouth to ask Auspex if he knew Vulcan, but closed it again immediately. Questions for the Outsiders would have to wait. They had taken only two steps outside the prison door when Wren saw that they were in trouble. Jack hadn’t been up to mischief. Wren could see him exactly where she had left him, his gaunt form leaning up against the wall, twiddling his thumbs. Which was exactly the problem. His invisibility mixture was wearing off.
“Wren!” he said, and a look of horror crossed his face. Wren looked down and saw the outline of her own arm.
“We’ve got to move fast.” She grabbed Jack’s elbow and propelled him down the hallway in front of her. Auspex followed behind, somehow moving silently despite their breakneck pace. They were almost back to the room they’d broken in through when Wren realized they had another problem. That room was apparently the control room. She could hear William’s grating voice as they rounded the corner.
Jack came to an abrupt halt. “We’ve got to go back,” he cried, but it was too late. The guard captain from earlier was patrolling the halls and had spotted them. The captain reached for the glowing stardust-tipped spear that was strapped to her back. Before she could raise something that looked like a whistle to her lips, Auspex was on her. He leaped past Jack and Wren, moving quickly and silently, and with one small movement locked the captain’s shoulders in a grip that soon had her melting to the floor, unconscious.
“Or we could do that,” Jack said, exchanging a stunned glance with Wren.
“She will wake after we are gone,” Auspex said. “Though we must find a different exit, yes? Perhaps the roof?”
“I saw stairs earlier,” Jack said, but before they could get out of sight, another patrolman was upon them.
“You two, go!” Auspex ordered, darting toward the guard. “If courage and honor favor us, we will meet again.”
Wren was about to argue, but Jack grabbed her this time, half hauling her toward the stairs. “Are you crazy?” he said. “You think we can do anything to help that guy? He’s practically a ninja.” The stairs wound up and up, tightening in on themselves in a dizzying circle. “I thought Magicians would be different. Like they’d be throwing stardust around as weapons or something.”
As Wren sprinted up the stairs two at a time, she realized that Jack was right on two accounts. First, it would have been foolish to stay and defend someone who was clearly capable of defending himself. They would probably only slow him down.
Second, and perhaps more troubling, was the fact that only one person in that hallway had tried to use stardust, and then only on a spear tip. Anyone looking on might have thought the rest of them couldn’t work the stardust at all. Not burned-out Jack. Not the mysterious Outsider. And certainly not her. She wondered if Simon and the falcons were still out on the roof somewhere. Was he okay, or had he run into trouble, too? Wren worked her legs harder, passing Jack as she pushed the door open to the rooftop and then came to a dead halt.
There were gas lamps blazing on the rooftop, and they showed everything in stark relief. The spindly spires of the city, Jack’s grainy silhouette next to her, and the pair of guards who stood blocking their way.
ELEVEN
What did she d
ream?
She does not know.
The fragments fly like chaff.
Yet strange her mind was tickled so,
To do anything but laugh.
Wren instinctively reached for Jack’s hand. What were they going to do? There was nowhere for them to run. If they went back down the stairs, they’d be in the midst of Auspex’s fight. Wren was surprised when one of the guards lowered his lance.
“What are you two doing up here?” he asked, frowning at Jack. “Apprentices are supposed to stay on the lower levels.”
“Right,” said Jack, giving his trademark smirk and looking for all the world like he wasn’t worried in the least. “But give a guy a break. I wanted to show her the rooftop at dawn. Even apprentices have to bend the rules every once in a while.”
The younger of the two guards laughed at them. “Sure, I guess so,” he said, but the older officer didn’t look so persuaded.
“Rule breaking leads to disorder. This should be reported.”
“Aw, come on,” the friendlier one said. “They’re just kids. Don’t you remember what it was like to be a kid?”
“I remember what it’s like to be caught and disciplined, Titus,” the older guard said in a harsh voice. “Escort them back to their quarters. Avoid Level Nine. Butcher’s patrolling there, and he’s not happy.” He looked at Wren and Jack. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”
“Oh, we’ll make sure there isn’t a next time,” Wren said, and meant every word.
Titus saluted his commanding officer and then led them over to an entrance that they would never have discovered on their own, concealed under a shiny copper rooftop. He waved his wrist over a sensor of some sort that unlocked the door, letting them into a steep stairwell that wound around and down. Titus didn’t say much as they descended, so Wren examined the glowing lance that bobbed in front of her. It seemed to be strapped to a pack of some kind. She hesitated. Was it full of the tainted stardust?
“Hurry up,” Titus said. “You can be back in your rooms and get some sleep before morning duties begin if you don’t dawdle.” He grinned up at Jack. “You remind me of myself. I always had night escapades. Keep things lively. Otherwise apprentice ops never get any fun.”
Jack laughed as though he knew what Titus was talking about, and Wren hoped that his bluffing would keep them going long enough to figure out a way out of the House of Never. She stumbled and caught herself on the handrail. The exhaustion of the past days was catching up with her. She hadn’t exactly been sleeping well before leaving the Crooked House, and the adrenaline of their close call was evaporating, leaving her with the mind-numbing debilitation of too many sleepless nights. And for what? They hadn’t helped Cole and Mary escape. Who knew if Auspex had broken free, and even if he had, he wasn’t likely to wait around for them. He’d be off to wherever the Outsiders lived, and Wren wouldn’t even have a chance to figure out how to help him. And now she and Jack were stuck here, having to rely on their wits to get them out and back to Simon. Was he still somewhere out there waiting for them? What if he had been taken prisoner? She panicked at the thought. What had happened to Simon?
Titus stopped to wave his wrist in front of another panel. “That way your reentry isn’t recorded on your chip,” he said, winking at Jack. “For old times’ sake.” Wren could see that his wrist was marked with some sort of glimmering tattoo. She gathered that it was somehow connected to stardust, since it shimmered with magic.
“Thanks,” Wren said.
“Stay out of trouble, you two,” Titus said as he opened the door and ushered them through before letting it shut behind them. Wren could hear his footsteps echoing in the stairwell and waited, back pressed up to the door next to Jack, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness. As soon as Titus left, they could return to the stairway and get out of this place for good.
“I think we might have a problem,” Jack whispered.
“You think?” Wren snapped back as the shapes in the room took form. They were standing at the edge of a huge room that must be a dormitory of sorts. Hammocks were strung across at all heights, each occupied by a sleeping figure. It reminded Wren of the Nest, except this time they had no Vulcan to guide them through.
“Titus is probably gone now,” she whispered. “Let’s go back out before we wake someone up.” The apprentice nearest them shifted, sending Wren’s heart racing, but then the movement turned into the deep, even breathing of sleep.
“And that would be the problem,” Jack whispered. “There’s no handle on this door. Just one of those panel thingies that Titus swiped.”
“No!” Wren hissed, feeling the thick, cool surface of the door for herself. But Jack was right. They were trapped. “Come on,” she whispered.
Very carefully, very silently, Wren led the way around the room. It was long and narrow, so it took them some time to traverse the length of it. While the hammocks were like the Nest’s, the floor was swept clean and empty.
“Oof,” Wren said, as her knees met something hard, and she discovered wooden shelves, piled high with blankets and cushions. Past that was another door, equally smooth and handleless, and then more shelves. The whole room was like that. Hammocks of sleeping students, shelves with soft blankets or clothes, and more completely unopenable doors.
“Do they just lock them in all night?” Wren said in exasperation when they’d made it back around to the front. “What if there’s a fire?”
“Well, they can get out with their sensor thingies,” Jack said. “Though if every movement is recorded, I bet they stay right where they’re supposed to be. Which works out well for us. We just need to wait for morning, and then we can slip out with one of the apprentices. Or apprentice ops. Or whatever they’re called. Simple.”
He plopped something soft into her arms, which turned out to be a set of the blankets and cushions they had passed.
“Sure,” she said with a silent laugh. “Simple.” Nothing about Nod was simple.
“No big deal,” Jack said, and she could hear the cocky grin in his voice. “If we got past those guards, don’t you think we can fool a couple of apprentices?” He yawned. “Besides, there’s no use worrying about it now. Not when we can finally get some sleep.”
Wren woke up to find herself alone in an empty room. Where were the others? Where was Jack?
Wren got to her feet and padded over to the single window, which took up an entire wall. A wind must have come up and blown Nod’s typical rainy cloud cover aside, leaving a clear night with a bright round moon twin to Earth’s shining in the velvety sky. Clouds scuttled across it, sending strange shadows playing over the cityscape below. But as Wren watched, an eerie feeling grew inside her. It wasn’t only the clouds but the buildings themselves that appeared to be moving. Spires twisted and curled upward. Structures creaked and groaned, sprouting turrets and extra floors like trees growing buds. Bridges poked out where bridges hadn’t been before. The wind seemed to call them, as every passing gust brought more stonework alive and whispered low, crooning music through the air.
Wren flung open the casement and leaned outside to get a closer look. The city streets were empty. No Magicians were about. No people as far as the eye could see. Only the strange organic buildings, creaking mysteriously upward and outward under the moon’s watchful eye. The music began to change, the low notes climbing higher and closer together. The buildings cracked open and burst with shattered glass and splintering wood, erupting in explosions of crushed brickwork.
“Beware the stardust,” a voice boomed, coming from all directions at once. “Beware the magic.”
Wren reached for the windowsill as the ground below her began to move, as though a huge earthquake was picking up the building and shaking it all around. She grabbed for the pouch of stardust around her neck, forgetting for the moment that she might not be able to do anything with it, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The little pouch was gone, and with it, the last of Wren’s calm.
“Help!” she screamed, b
ut her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “Help!” She tried to cry louder, but all that came out was a strangled yelp. The sound of the wind was changing, the low moaning rising higher, pulsing with the rushing rhythm of waves on the ocean.
Wren stumbled back from the window and the rising tide. A high wall of water was crashing toward them, and she could feel the jolt of the moment it struck the boundary wall around Nod. The wave crested and foamed, rushing over the sides like a massive waterfall, flooding the tormented streets. The falling buildings were caught up in the rush as the tempest tossed and turned, heading directly toward Wren.
Her feet felt stuck fast, as though someone hadn’t only taken Wren’s voice, but her movement as well. A silent scream bottled up inside her, until she felt like she, too, might self-destruct, like all the buildings of Nod. She shut her eyes, waiting for the end, wondering where the others were and if they had somehow escaped. But nothing happened. The water never hit her. And when Wren opened her eyes, she was out on a barren hilltop, the smell of her dreams of Nod sharp in her nostrils. She cried out in pain as the back of her neck cramped tight.
“I know you are here, Weather Changer.”
Wren froze. This wasn’t the voice that had warned her about the magic. This was a different voice, a voice she recognized. This was Boggen’s voice. A little weaker, perhaps, but his. And he knew her.
“You are mine, Apprentice. And I will find you.”
Wren tried the trick she had learned before, shutting her eyes tight and willing herself somewhere else. The landscape around her shifted. An abandoned city street. A wide-open plain. The side of a clouded pink lake. Boggen’s voice didn’t come again, and Wren took that as a good sign. She kept shifting locations until she finally found herself really awake.
She was lying in the cramped corner where she and Jack had piled their blankets the night before, but this time she wasn’t alone. The pearly gray light of dawn was shining weakly through a many-paned round window at the top of one of the walls. She could now make out clearly what they had only been able to guess at the night before. Neat rows of hammocks were strung four deep and five across, like regimented bunks.