“She said she wasn’t from this world,” Jonathan mused. “We may never know, for certain. Still, I would like to find out. Difficult, though, given her current whereabouts.”
Flick touched the suitcase on the table. “And I broke this.…”
“Mm. I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen. Not that I’m complaining.”
Nicc looked at Flick, impressed. “Is it true you broke out of another world into this one?”
Flick felt very uncomfortable. “Yeah. I don’t know if I could do it again.”
“I hope you can,” Jonathan said. “Because your gift seems to be one that keeps on giving, Felicity.” He smiled. “Now, not to panic you or anything, but I believe we may have outstayed our welcome.” He tapped his watch.
Flick put her hands to her face in horror. “Oh my god. What time is it? Back at Strangeworlds, I mean?”
“Um. It’s tomorrow,” Jonathan said guiltily.
“Tomorrow?!”
“About five o’clock in the morning,” he said. “With that in mind, shall we make for home? Quickspark’s isn’t too far away.”
“Wait,” Flick said. “I want to check something.” She held her hand out.
Jonathan stared at her palm for a moment, then wordlessly took the tiny brass magnifying glass from his pocket and handed it over. “If you’re sure.”
Flick nodded. “I want to know what we’re dealing with.” She went over to the window and put a hand to the glass. Outside, the sky was baby blue, marked with only a few white clouds.
“Flick,” Jonathan called. “There’s such a thing as knowing too much.”
“No, there’s not,” Flick said. “That’s just something people tell you when they’re afraid, and they think you will be, too.” She kept her hand at the window and raised the tiny magnifier to her eye.
The effect was thrilling and terrifying. A filter of darkness descended over Flick’s vision, turning the sky outside from blue to black. The air swirled with glittering golden magic, and above the tops of the tallest buildings…
A jagged rip in the atmosphere hovered above the city. It was golden-white and glowing monstrously, seeming to pulse as bits of magic steadily drifted into it like water running downhill.
Flick realized she was crying. “It’s…”
Someone put their arm around her. “Is it as bad as we thought?” It was Nicc.
“I don’t even know how anyone could fix…” Flick stopped as a sudden light flashed at the bottom of her vision, and a stream of white-gold magic shot into the sky like a firework. It collided with the schism, and as Flick watched…
The schism shrank back.
Just a little.
But it shrank.
Flick lowered the magnifying glass. “They’re smashing the bottles, aren’t they?”
“I hope so,” Nicc said.
“I saw it. The magic. Going back into the sky. It was healing the schism. It was.” Flick looked back at Jonathan. “It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”
Jonathan’s eyes flicked over to the window. “We can only hope.”
“We can do more than hope,” Nicc sniffed. “We can do something about it. Even if we have to change the way we live. Nothing’s more important than this. This is our home.” She pulled Flick into a hug.
Flick tensed for a moment, then relaxed into it, suddenly feeling completely exhausted.
Nicc let go of her. “Thank you, Flick,” she said, “for helping us to save our world.”
Look for a blue case. Light blue, with gold fastinings,” Darilyn said. They were in the wine cellar of the Weeping Lily, where the casks of ale and bottles of wine shared the cold space with twenty or so suitcases. Flick had been so relieved to see the Quicksparks unharmed that she’d gone straight in for a hug with Darilyn as soon as she saw her.
“I thought Hid had hurt you,” she said, letting go eventually.
“Oh, him?” Darilyn rolled her eyes. “All bark and no bite. Wouldn’t know the right end of a spoon, never mind how to question anybody. He just put a magical lock on the front door. Foolish man. Never even asked if there was a door out the back. How else would we have carried two dozen suitcases out of the emporium without being noticed?”
“We hid them here,” Greysen said, “because we didn’t have a lot of time. And the Weeping Lily is a tavern popular with Thieves. Last place they’d look is under their own nose.”
Nicc grinned from the cellar steps. “It’s fortunate I never knew what they were.”
Darilyn rolled her eyes. “You keep looking for that suitcase.”
“Will it take us home?” Flick said, searching through the pile.
“Indirectly.” Jonathan sipped from the cup of tea he had somehow managed to acquire. “We’re taking the scenic route home, Felicity. One stop, and then Strangeworlds.”
“How do you know it’s safe?”
“I’ve got a friend waiting for us.”
“I didn’t think you had friends.” Flick raised her eyebrows at him.
Jonathan looked contrite, a wine stain of a blush starting over his white cheeks. “About that. I was hoping… given the circumstances…”
Flick sighed. “Let’s do that when we get back.” She examined the cases as Jonathan came closer, picking up one himself. “Why aren’t these cases at Strangeworlds?”
“Oh, you don’t put all your bridges in one basket.”
Flick walked away from the suitcase piles and sat down beside him. “Glean said something had caused the schisms in the multiverse. She didn’t say what it was, but she knew. And you don’t.”
“No.” He frowned. “I don’t like not knowing.”
Darilyn pulled out the blue case. “Here it is, Custodians. Time to go home.”
“Excellent. But before we go, I have to ask…” Jonathan trailed off.
“Your father?” Greysen asked.
Jonathan nodded.
Greysen shook his head. “Can’t tell you much more than we told your friend. I’m just sorry it didn’t seem important before. Your father came to us, mentioned a lighthouse, then asked for some privacy in the shop. We never saw him again.”
“And he gave no indication whatsoever about where he was going?”
“He never said where this lighthouse might be, or what he needed to visit it for. Sorry. I don’t know anything else.”
Flick saw Jonathan glance at her. “I see.” He fished the magnifying glass out of his pocket. “I know this is asking a lot,” he said guiltily, “but… would you mind?”
Flick didn’t hesitate. She took the magnifier and looked through it.
The wine cellar had a low-level magical glow about it.
But none of the suitcases sparkled. Not even one.
She lowered the magnifying glass and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Jonathan’s face was blank as he took the glass back. “He must have taken it with him. Pulled it through, wherever he went. If he went at all.”
Flick looked at Nicc. “Was there any information on Daniel Mercator in Glean’s office? Anything you heard?”
Nicc shook her head. “Last time anyone saw him in the city was months ago.”
Greysen cleared his throat. “Sorry we can’t be of more help.”
“Well, this isn’t goodbye,” Jonathan said, looking up with determination. “I shall come back.”
“We both will,” Flick said.
The Custodians smiled at her. Nicc gave them both a small salute.
Jonathan took the case and opened it. “Now—the person waiting for us is called Tristyan,” he said to Flick. “Don’t stare at his ears.”
* * *
Tristyan insisted on cleaning up Jonathan’s bloody nose before letting them go. “Some things never change.” He sighed.
“Unfortunately,” Jonathan said.
Flick sat on the dining chair and watched. They’d exited Five Lights into Tristyan’s living room, and he was very relieved to see them. He’d given Flick a warm drink tha
t tasted like medicine and a soft smile that seemed almost familiar. Then he set about fixing up Jonathan’s various cuts and bruises.
“Do… do I know you?” Flick asked, breaking the silence. “Tristyan?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Tristyan said, turning to look at her.
They stared at one another. Tristyan tucked his long hair back behind one ear. It was pointed, like an elf’s. He certainly wasn’t from her world.
“I’m sure we’ve met,” Flick said. “But we can’t have. Can we?”
“I don’t travel between worlds, so it’s highly unlikely,” Tristyan said.
Jonathan looked between them both, a doubtful frown on his face.
Flick wished she could think clearly. She shrugged. “Weird.”
“It is.” Tristyan smiled cheerfully at her again, and Flick was positive she had seen that expression before. It was nagging at her in a way that made her feel slightly nervous, as if she was skirting around the edge of a deep shadow.
Jonathan got up and checked his reflection in the mirror over the mantelpiece. His glasses were still broken and he looked as tired as Flick felt. She wanted to ask if the scrap of information he’d managed to get about his father had been worth it. Somehow, she doubted it. They barely knew any more than before, had gotten themselves captured, and had almost lost an entire world in the process.
Flick tapped the edge of her cup with a fingernail. She’d heard people say you mean the world to me, but that couldn’t be true, could it? No one loved anyone that much. No one was worth that much to anyone. Were they?
She wasn’t sure she knew the answer.
Tristyan moved to sit opposite her and shook her out of her thoughts. “How does the travel agency suit you, Felicity?”
“Mm… It’s okay,” she said.
“She’s got a gift for it,” Jonathan said, looking at them both through the mirror.
“There you have it, then.”
Flick rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s trying to get back in my good books.”
“I’d say you could do worse,” Tristyan said. “He would have done almost anything to get you back, I think.”
Flick didn’t know what to say to that.
Jonathan picked up the spare suitcase, the one Flick had locked permanently. He had filled it with old Society books from Greysen and Darilyn. “Ready?”
“Yes. It was nice to meet you.” Flick shook hands with Tristyan, still feeling not entirely sure about him.
“And you. Look after each other. And don’t leave it so long next time,” Tristyan called, as the two of them dropped through the suitcase and back into the travel agency.
* * *
They surfaced half sideways, half upside down, tumbling out at the back of the shop and sprawling in a heap of arms and legs that made them groan and clutch at the bits of themselves that hit the wooden floor.
Flick crawled into one of the armchairs. “Ow. My… everything hurts.”
Jonathan wobbled over to the desk and swapped his smashed glasses for an unbroken pair out of the drawer. “Agreed.” He collapsed into the swivel chair.
Flick closed her eyes. She was dog-tired, her muscles ached, and she wanted her mom. She’d never wanted her mom so badly in her life. And she wanted her dad, even if he would fall asleep on the sofa. And she wanted Freddy, even if he’d try to eat her sleeves.
She wanted them all.
She had missed them all so much.
Flick pushed herself upright. “Jonathan…”
“Let me go first, please.” Jonathan sat up and looked at her. “I am sorry, you know. I am so… so sorry. I lied to you—kept the truth from you. You’re a better person and a better travel agent than I could ever hope to be. But you don’t have to come back ever again. If you want, this can be where your story ends. And, if this is goodbye…” He held a hand out. “If this is goodbye, I am not sorry at all to have met you, Felicity. You’re what this world needs. I am very glad you’re back in it.”
Flick stared at his hand, then shook her head. “It’s not goodbye,” she said. “Not yet.”
Jonathan smiled.
Flick sighed. “Adventures. Who’d have them.”
“Well, since you’re asking…”
They stared at each other. Then dissolved into tired, aching laughter.
THREE DAYS LATER
Knock, knock,” Flick said, pushing the door open.
“That’s not traditionally how knocking works,” Jonathan said, looking up from the huge book he’d been reading. His legs were up on the desk again. So was the magnifying glass.
Flick grinned and put a box of tea onto the desk. She took the book out of Jonathan’s hands and read the title page. “A Study of Schisms?”
“I thought I should at least try to learn what my dad failed to teach me,” he said. “And it’s interesting.” He gave her a cautious smile. “How are you?”
“Better, I think.” She put the book down and picked up the magnifying glass, twirling it in her fingers.
“What did you tell your parents about where you were, in the end?”
“Nothing. I figured it would be easier not to answer any questions than to try and keep a lie straight. My dad went absolutely off his rocker. They’d had the police out, and everything. I’m grounded for the next thousand years.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve got to leave the house sometime.”
The argument had gone on for almost four hours and ended with everyone in the house crying, including one of the police officers. It had almost pulled Flick apart, but she knew that having the internet cut off until she was twenty-five was a small price to pay for keeping Strangeworlds a secret. How could she make her parents understand she had come so close to losing them when she couldn’t tell them what had happened? The pain of keeping everything a secret—of keeping what made herself special a secret—hurt her down to her bones.
She helped herself to one of Jonathan’s cookies. Jonathan deftly fished the magnifying glass out of her fingers as she did so, putting it pointedly down on the desk.
She tutted, mouth full of cookie. “You can trust me, you know.”
He took his legs down off the desk. “I know. I do trust you. Honestly. I suppose it would be a fine thing if you could say the same about me.” He picked at his cuff.
Flick waited a few seconds before shrugging. “You know, if you’d just told me that I’m different I probably would have helped you anyway.”
“Really? But why?”
“Because that’s what people do for their friends,” she said. “They help them. And they tell them what it is that makes them special. Even if what makes them special is their ability to drive you absolutely mad.”
They were quiet, then. The sounds of the road outside drifted in under the door, and there was nothing in the room except breathing and thinking and the gentle ticking of the dozens of clocks. It was so comfortable they both might have fallen asleep.
“Will you come back, then?” Jonathan asked. “Properly?”
Flick snorted. “As if I could walk away now. I know too much, don’t I?”
“Well, quite. But for what it’s worth I should hate to see you decide to walk away from Strangeworlds. It might be selfish of me, but I like having you around.”
Flick raised her eyebrows. “To pass on what you know?”
“No. I thought that was why I liked having you around,” Jonathan said. “But, really, it’s because of who you are as a person. It’s nice to have… well, to have a friend, I suppose. I’m sorry—I’ve never been very good at this. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m making a mess of it.”
“No.” Flick smiled. “You’re better at it than you think. I’d rather you said you wanted me to hang around as your friend than as your student.” She prodded him on the arm. “No more secrets though, yeah? If I ask a question, you give me the truth. No lies.” She stuck her hand out.
“No lies,” he a
greed, shaking it.
“And… what about your dad?” Flick asked.
Jonathan looked down at the desk. “I… would like to continue that search.”
“What if he’s dead?” Flick asked. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but it is possible.”
“I don’t know,” Jonathan said, without looking up. “I just hope.”
Flick nodded. She understood that. There was always hope.
It wasn’t enough, though. There was also action. You had to have both, in the end.
After that, there were cookies and more tea, and the two of them barely had to say anything at all. When Flick’s phone beeped with the alarm to say she needed to leave in order to beat her dad home, Flick went to the door. Then paused.
“Jonathan…,” she started.
Jonathan knew the start of an awkward question when he heard it. “Mm?”
“That picture on the stairs. The one of the boy in school uniform?”
“Yes?”
“Is that of your dad?”
He nodded. “Oh. Yes, it is.”
“That’s nice,” Flick smiled. She opened the door, then looked back at Jonathan. “You look exactly like him, you know.”
Jonathan didn’t answer. He looked as though speaking would break him.
Flick’s alarm buzzed another reminder in her pocket. “I need to go.”
“Wait,” Jonathan got up and took the magnifying glass off his desk. He held it out to her.
“You’re serious?” Flick took it quickly, in case he wasn’t.
“I’m serious. It’s more use to you than me. Keep it. You’ll be back, won’t you?”
“I’ll have to be, now,” she said, putting the little brass instrument into her pocket. “As soon as I can.”
Jonathan took the door and held it open for her. “Safe journey, Felicity.”
She stepped through the door of the Strangeworlds Travel Agency, out of one world and into another.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would never have been written, let alone published, without the support and encouragement of my wonderful agent, Claire Wilson. Thank you for helping Flick and me take our first steps together, for being my knight in shining armor, and for pointing out I was about to pour salt into my tea that one time.
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