by Marissa Burt
As she lay there she could feel the memory of her horrible dream creep back, the lingering clench of fear on her neck. Boggen had found her in her dreams. And what had happened before that? Why did she feel as though if she turned around quickly enough, she would catch sight of that ominous wall of water? And why did the music still thrum inside her, as if her blood pounded with the rhythm? Beware the stardust. Beware the magic, the voice had said. What did it mean?
On Earth, she had dreamed strange things, and it turned out they were visions of Nod. So what did it mean if she had a strange dream about Nod on Nod?
The rope ladder that hung from one of the hammocks twisted in the air, shifting under the weight of awakening apprentices.
“Jack,” Wren whispered, punching the lump under the blankets next to her. “Get up.”
Jack gave a muffled moan and sat up.
“Shh,” she said. “The others are waking.” They didn’t have much time. They were going to have to come up with a plan, or at least some excuse for why they had suddenly appeared in the middle of the night. Maybe they could say Titus sent them. Maybe—
“We can hide under there,” Jack said, looking wide awake now and delighted at the challenge in front of them. He pointed to one of the shelves Wren had stumbled into the night before. In the light of day she could see it was a low bench that ran along the length of one wall. Sets of boots were tucked neatly under it, but the benches were deep enough that they might be able to squeeze beneath them.
“Let’s go,” Wren said, not wanting to waste any time. They scooted over. “I’ll take this one,” Wren said, clearing aside the boots and then sliding back as far against the wall as possible as Jack did the same with the bench next to it. From underneath, Wren reached out and tried to rearrange the boots, wiggling them back into place so that they would provide some measure of concealment. And she finished just in the nick of time. As she wedged the final boot in place, a buzzer, which must have been an alarm clock, sounded. She couldn’t see much, but she could hear the sounds of people waking. Bare feet hit the floor in front of her as an apprentice clambered down the nearest rope ladder. She could see the end of it swinging as more kids awoke. There was the sound of hurried chatter, the opening and shutting of cupboards and closets. The sound of buckles and jangling metal. What were the apprentices doing in the House of Never? Were they guards in training?
Then one of them started to head her way, his bare feet coming closer and closer until Wren realized in one horrible moment the flaw in their plan. The boots! The apprentices would need to put on their boots. A hand snatched up one pair of boots, and then someone dropped down on the bench above her. She could see the buckles and laces and the hands working to put the boots on. The glimmering blue of the tattoo on the apprentice’s wrist shimmered at her in the shadows. Others joined him. Boys’ voices mostly.
“I wonder what the summoning is for,” one of them said.
“A special op?” another answered. “Think you can handle that?”
“I don’t think,” one joked back. “I know I’m ready.”
Another loud buzzer drowned out the rest of their chatter, and then there was a mad final rush for boots as the rest of the boys grabbed theirs. Wren shut her eyes tight, as if not being able to see them would keep them from noticing her, but she needn’t have worried. Soon, the boots were gone, and the whole herd of apprentices was forming a line near the door panel on the opposite side of the room.
“Wren, now!” Jack hissed at her, and Wren realized he was right. If they didn’t move fast, they’d be stuck in the room alone. She slithered out from under the bench, keeping close to the wall. Peering out from behind a cupboard, she could see that the boys were all individually scanning out of the room. A dozen were left, exiting one by one, and taking with them any chance of escape.
“Let’s go!” Jack was next to her now, and they slipped across the room, making their way from cupboard to cupboard in case anyone turned around. There were only five boys left.
“Wait,” Wren said, pausing at one of the open cupboards and grabbing two garments from inside. “Put this on.” She shoved one at Jack, who hurriedly flung it over his shoulders as they crept toward the final closet, the one closest to the exit. There were only two boys left now. The jackets she had grabbed were identical to the ones the boys wore—made of leather, fitted with straps and buckles down the front, and stopping near their knees. Wren wondered if it was some kind of apprentice cloak for the House of Never. And then it was time. They had to make a break for it. She slinked forward, creeping up behind the last boy as he scanned his wrist tattoo. Right before the door shut behind him, she wedged her booted foot in the gap.
Got it. Now they just needed to wait a few seconds for the boys to get wherever they were going, and they’d be home free. She listened for the sound of the boys’ footsteps on the stairs to fade, but they weren’t fading. Instead, it sounded as if there were more of them. Wren peeked out the crack. Another troop of apprentices were coming from the floor above. This one was a group of girls, and Wren was relieved to see they all wore the same buckled cloak that the boys did. She just might blend in. Each girl’s hair was pulled back in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Wren wondered how many apprentices there actually were and how long she and Jack would have to wait. Seconds later the panel on the door started beeping at her, increasing in loudness.
“It must be a sensor of some kind,” Jack said from over her shoulder. “To keep the door from being propped open.” Wren ducked back, panicking, as one of the girls drew near to investigate the door.
Jack pushed past her. “Oops!” he said, winking at the girl. “Moving a little slow this morning.”
The girl gave him a stony look, but his bluff must have worked, because she kept moving, joining the seemingly never-ending line of boys and girls headed down the stairs. Jack waved to Wren and they fell in with the others, Wren hastily smoothing down her hair and trying to work it into a knot like the other girls’.
The stairwell had plenty of doors, but none that seemed to lead outside. Down they went, plodding after the other apprentices, looking for a chance to escape that never seemed to come.
TWELVE
Jack be nimble.
Jack be quick.
Jack beware of trap and trick.
The steps kept curving down and around, down and around, circling in on themselves. Soon, the stairwell changed from sterile metal to earthen walls with wooden steps. The air grew damper. Then they were funneling through an arched doorway, older boys who must be leaders of some kind holding the door for the others to pass through. Beyond, Wren found steps leading deeper beneath the surface.
The girls near her were whispering. “The catacombs!” one said in wonder. “Have you ever been down here before?”
“Never.” The other girl shivered. “And I wish I wasn’t now.”
Wren looked around curiously. They were passing through a string of forgotten, empty rooms. They moved past piles of discarded wood and other places where it looked like fire had left sooty markings on the floor and walls. There were a few faded papers tacked up against walls and bits of rubbish in the corners. Whatever had once happened in the catacombs, they had been abandoned long ago.
They tromped through a warren of empty rooms, past store cupboards and wide gathering places. Through what had obviously once been bathing rooms of some sort. In and down. Around and through.
As they moved deeper, Wren could hear snippets of conversation.
“He’s called a quarantine,” the boy in front was saying. “We haven’t had a quarantine since . . .” His words trailed off as he rounded the corner.
“What’s a quarantine?” Jack whispered to Wren.
“I’m not sure what it means here,” Wren said quietly. “Back home it’s when they isolate people for some reason. Usually because of disease.”
As they moved farther into the catacombs, the spaces around them seemed to become more purposeful, with wide-op
en rooms designed to house large numbers of people and faded signs indicating assigned seats. Then the rooms gave way to smaller passageways that resembled tunnels.
Wren wondered where they led. Could she and Jack escape through them, or would they just end up wandering forever beneath the city?
The damp earthy smell tickled at Wren’s nose. No old papers dotted the walls here. Instead, someone had carved things into the stone. Silhouettes of men and women. Smaller figures that were obviously meant to be children. There were names below most of these. And dates.
“Do you think . . .” Wren began when they passed the fifth such monument.
“Um, yeah,” Jack whispered. “Tombs. This whole place officially gives me the creeps.”
Wren shivered. She thought Jack was probably right. The entire passageway felt like a huge underground crypt. The statues. The numbers. The regular nooks carved into the wall as if— “You mean, you think there are bodies back there?”
“Skeletons, probably,” Jack said matter-of-factly.
Wren felt a tickling at her ear and stifled a squeal, jumping around to see Jack grinning at her.
“Feeling a little nervous, Wren?” he said, waggling the falcon’s feather he had poked her with. “Don’t worry, the scary skeletons can’t hurt you. They’ve been dead for, what? Many years, I’d say.”
“I’m fine,” Wren said, smiling at the girls in front of her who had noticed her squeal and were now scowling at her. “Really.” Wren spread her hands innocently. “Just a practical joke, that’s all.” She laughed weakly in Jack’s direction. “He’s full of them.”
“Now’s not a good time for joking,” the frowning girl said. She spoke with a slight accent. Her forehead crinkled into a frown. “What unit are you from, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“Hey, look,” Jack said, pointing up ahead and providing a welcome distraction.
They had arrived in a circular room with passageways sprouting off in different directions like the spokes on a wheel. The boys in charge were directing everyone to gather in the middle of the space, and Wren was glad to yank Jack in the opposite direction from the curious girls.
Seizing the moment, she pulled Jack into one of the dark tunnels. She didn’t want to risk anyone else noticing that they didn’t belong.
“Shh!” Wren said when Jack began to protest. “This might be our chance to escape.”
Jack looked pointedly down the black tunnel ahead of them. “Escape where?”
Wren ignored him. It was a good thing they had ducked aside, because the unit leaders seemed to be organizing everyone in groups and taking attendance. She pressed back against the wall and felt carved letters beneath her hands. The main room was lit with flickering gas lamps, and their glow spread far enough to barely make out the words:
To commemorate the end of the Great Plague of Magic from the Noddian year 231, in which 14,792 Fiddlers met their demise. Let it be remembered that tainted stardust was the cause of such deeds, and most solemn caution must forever be implemented to ensure that no Plague of this kind shall ever threaten our colony again. We honor the victims and their families with this monument, and we warn the generations to come not to follow in the wicked and foolish ways of Mother Goose, who brought this Plague upon our great colony. We do hereby declare a Memorial Day on the twenty-seventh of each month to grieve our losses and celebrate the successful containment and end of the Most Grievous Plague. Signed forthwith: The Most Solemn and Most Reverend First Council of Nod, this twenty-seventh day of the eighth month, in the 232nd year of our colony.
Jack snickered. “Mother Goose?”
Wren shushed him. “Remember what Mary said?” The fact that the nursery rhymes she had grown up with had dire significance hardly surprised her anymore. She read through the engraved words again. Almost 15,000 people had died. How awful!
“Attention, please!” a familiar, unwelcome voice called out in the big room.
Wren peered around the corner. William was there, wearing the same leather coat he had worn in Mary and Cole’s cell the night before. He stroked his pointy white beard while he waited a moment, but Wren didn’t know for what. All the units were already in perfect attention.
“You apprentices have been assigned to my research team,” William said in a too-pleased voice. “And what I say will be obeyed without question, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir!” the units answered in unison.
“Good. Your first assignment is to excavate these crypts.” William pulled out a pair of thin gloves and situated them snugly on his long fingers. “We will be studying the tainted stardust, particularly how much of the taint is required to cause a plague of this nature. Obviously, some Noddians were exposed to the taint and did not die. Others”—he spread his gloved hands—“well, others, not so much. Your job is to determine why. Now. Let us look at a sample together.”
Wren watched in horror as William turned to one of the crypts and pressed on a stone lever. Then, he carefully slid out a long tray.
“Ah,” William said, his eyes alight. “The remains of our first subject. Come closer, apprentices, and watch carefully.”
Wren wondered if the other apprentices were feeling as queasy as she was. She had done her fair share of dissection in her biology and anatomy studies, but this was a human cadaver!
“William always was a turd,” Jack said, wearing a pinched expression.
Wren stifled a relieved snort when suddenly a burst of static rent the stillness of the catacombs.
Some of the apprentices jumped back, startled, but William merely looked annoyed.
He pressed a button on a device resembling a walkie-talkie. “What is it?” he snapped.
“William,” the voice rasped, and Wren felt her neck throb with pain. Jack gasped, too, and clutched at the back of his head.
Boggen! Wren would know that voice anywhere, but it was especially recognizable after last night’s dream. Only this was no dream. She stifled a moan as the spot on the back of her neck where he had once marked her burned like it was on fire.
“You, too?” Jack whispered, his face lined with pain.
Wren nodded. Whatever Boggen had done to mark her as his apprentice in her dreams, he must have done to Jack as well.
“William, my apprentice is in the catacombs with you.” Boggen’s voice sent stabs of fear through Wren’s body. “The one that I have marked.”
William’s gaze was sharp now, scanning the rows of boys and girls in front of him. “Is this true?” he asked. “Which of you is it?”
Vehement denials came from the orderly regiments.
“Bring me my apprentice.” Boggen’s voice echoed throughout the chamber.
“We’ve got to run!” Wren said, stumbling to her feet. “Or they’ll catch us for sure.” She knew even as she spoke that trying to escape was probably futile. The units were already fanning out in orderly patrols, and there were far more of them than there were tunnels to search. It wouldn’t take them long to find Jack and Wren.
Wren pointed down the dark tunnel in front of them. “This looks like as good an escape route as any.”
Jack shoved at her shoulder. “Then you take it.” It took Wren a second to understand what he meant.
“No, Jack,” she said. “You can’t sacrifice yourself.”
“Why not?” Jack’s half smile looked a little forced. “He’s marked us both, but apparently the mark can’t tell him the difference between us. All he said was that his apprentice was here. If he has me, maybe he’ll stop looking for you.”
Wren grabbed his hands, pleading with him. “We don’t know how the marks work. Besides, if Boggen gets his hands on you, just think what he’ll make you do. You’ll be like Mary and Cole, forced into who knows what kind of research!”
“So what?” Jack shrugged. “I can’t work the magic anymore. He can’t use me to do anything useful. For all Boggen knows, I’m still on his side.” His voice grew sly. “I could be like a spy on th
e inside, you know?” He gave a weak laugh and then reached out and squeezed her hand. “But you. You he’d use for sure. Make it count, Wren.” He winked at her, and then he stepped out into the circular room, calling out in a loud voice, “I’m here. I am Boggen’s apprentice.”
Wren reached a useless hand out after him, but she knew she couldn’t throw away the chance Jack had just given her. She would come back for him. She would rescue him. Her last sight of Jack was one of the unit leaders grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him up to William.
“Ah,” William said. “What a pleasant surprise to find you on Nod, Jack.”
Wren shut her ears to the horrible sound of William’s laughter and fled into the darkness of the tunnel.
THIRTEEN
One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for girl,
Four for boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for secrets, yet untold.
Wren stumbled down the dark corridor, the sound of Jack’s final declaration echoing through her mind. What would happen to him?
She calculated her options, darting around another corner. Cole and Mary would be of little help, still trapped as they were as William’s prisoners. With luck, Jack would end up with them, which would make rescuing them slightly easier. Wren started to jog, sending little puffs of dirt up where her feet fell. She was going to rescue them. First, she’d have to find Simon. She hoped he’d had a better time of it last night. Maybe he had gone back to the Nest.
She was taking whatever path led upward, hoping that the sloping tunnels would eventually lead her to ground level. Soon the tunnels grew lighter, as dirt-smudged grates near the ceiling let in daylight. She must be getting closer! Wren passed what seemed to be a bird in flight carved roughly onto one of the earthen walls. She recognized it immediately. Auspex had worn the same symbol around his neck. She remembered how Mary had said that their only hope for help lay with the Outsiders now. Vulcan had thought Wren and her friends were Outsiders. Perhaps he knew where she could find the real ones. Wren moved a little farther down the tunnel, stopping to check the grates to see if any were loose. On her fourth try she found one. Wiggling it sent dirt cascading down over her hair, and she jerked her head down to keep it out of her eyes. A few more jostles. Moving it just a little. And then it was out.