The Weeping Books of Blinney Lane

by Drea Damara

  “Yeah…” Henry agreed, his mouth still agape as he listened to the craziness spilling out of Ricky’s mouth.

  “I’m serious!” Ricky said in a harsh whisper and shook his shoulders. “If you lose anything you came here with, like your sword or your boots,” Ricky gestured at him, “the book will pull you back in like it did to my aunt. That’s why she’s here. She’s not sick; the book got her. She’s here, and we need to find her and help her get back.”

  Henry sighed and shook his head uneasily once he realized Ricky was done talking. How could he not have noticed this kid had mental problems before? He'd always seemed so sane. Did Sarah know Ricky had problems? Was Ricky going to hurt them out here in the woods? How had he gotten him past Franci and Mary?

  “Ricky? Where did Franci and Mary go?” he asked.

  Ricky shook his head and scoffed. He glanced around the woods again. “Henry, can we just get out of these creepy woods, please? Then we’ll go home. I promise.”

  Henry looked around and winced at another sound of the strange shriek and a flutter as something swooshed past them. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  Ricky began to head out of the glen through the woods and Henry followed. Every twenty or thirty feet, Ricky would stop to listen and scan the perimeter. Henry would stop and do the same, looking from Ricky to the woods in question.

  Up ahead, Henry smelled something foul and saw something large slumped over in a vine-covered bramble. He watched as Ricky steered around the mass and held his hand up to his nose. Henry slowed on approach; he saw a horn and a hoof sticking up in the air. With his hand clenched firmly over his nose and mouth, he peered down at the rotting carcass of a massive beast. It was nearly twice as large as any cow he had ever seen. It had hooves with spiked claws sticking out of them. The long skull was as large as his torso, and the animal had a snout with a wide horn on the top of it that curved backward toward its head.

  “Ricky!”

  “Shh!” Ricky spun around with a finger to his lips.

  He lowered his voice as he asked, “What the hell is that thing?”

  “It’s a wickrit. It chased me and Sarah the last time we were here, and she tricked it into getting caught in those vines so we could get away.”

  “A what? Ricky, where are we? Are we still in Salem?” Henry was intent on whispering now without a reminder. He glanced around in search of other similar beasts.

  “We’re nowhere near Salem. We’re in a land inside of that book I told you about. I know it sounds crazy, and I didn’t believe it either, but I’m serious. Come on, you’ll see.” Ricky turned back around and quickened his pace, leaving him to try and catch up.

  After walking for a while, he came up beside Ricky along a dirt road. Was the kid in denial over his aunt’s condition? Had she died in the bedroom after they'd forced him to wait in the kitchen? Why hadn’t he just called for an ambulance like he wanted to do? He ran a hand through his hair as he looked up and down the road. He grasped Ricky by the shoulder to turn the boy toward him.

  “Ricky, take me back to your aunt’s flat right now. This is no time for messing around. She’s sick, okay? I’m sorry, but you can’t ignore that.”

  “IS THAT what you think? I’m in denial?” Ricky scoffed. He rolled his eyes knowing there was no point in arguing with Henry. It was like trying to convince a drunken person they were drunk. He started walking again, sure that Henry would follow.

  When the first sight of Oedher Village appeared down the road, he turned back to look at Henry. Ricky gave him a sympathetic smile as Henry looked in awe at the architecture. The large man bounded up quickly to him when he saw that he had stopped.

  “Ricky? Is this that medieval festival you were talking about? Is that it?” Henry chuckled. “I thought you said it wasn’t until next week on Blinney Lane.”

  “There’s no festival, buddy. I just said that so you’d put those clothes on. Sorry,” he said, slapping Henry’s arm and continuing on. He stopped only once more to tell Henry, “If anyone asks, you’re from a land called Blinney, got it?”

  Henry scowled and raised his brow as he looked around. “Yeah, but if anyone asks what happened to you after I get out of this, I don’t know anything.”

  “That’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he said with sincerity, hiding his smirk so he wouldn’t get his butt kicked.

  He walked with purpose to Allister Hall, avoiding the eye contact he’d made with the villagers last time. When he spied Dergus standing outside the gate, he beamed with joy.

  “Lord Ricky! We thought you’d gone!” Dergus laughed and slapped his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I know you wanted to get rid of me,” he said and clasped hands with the man.

  “Ha, you’re the first drinking partner I’ve had in twenty years, don’t let me fool you,” he said, scoffing. “Who’s the swordsman?”

  That gave Ricky a laugh and he turned around to make sure Henry was still in tow. He found him surveying Dergus’s clothing and the wall to Allister Hall. “You really think he looks like a swordsman?”

  “Well, isn’t he? He’s as big as a stroomphblutel,” Dergus said, chuckling.

  “Lord Ricky?” Henry finally asked with a canted brow.

  Ricky threw him a sour look. He slid his thumbs underneath his belt as he rocked on his heels, pleased with himself for coming up with an alias for Henry. “Henry, may I introduce Dergus, guardsman of Allister Hall and captain of the gate? Dergus, this is Master Henry Teager, master swordsman and my personal guard.”

  Henry looked like he was doing his best to humor him and not to be rude. He shook Dergus’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Dergus.”

  “Dergus, can we go inside now, please? I’d like to see my aunt.”

  “Ha, well Lord Ricky, you don’t need to ask me to go inside. This is Allister Hall after all. But you won’t find your aunt here.” Dergus opened the doors.

  “Imagine that,” Henry muttered under his breath, his head shifting to observe everything.

  “What do you mean she’s not here?” Ricky passed through the gate.

  “Well, she left. The day after you did, back to Blinney. I thought she would have told you that,” Dergus answered as he closed the gate.

  “She did. But has she returned?” He heard the panic in his voice.

  “No. Will we be expecting her?”

  “Yes, I think so, but I thought she would have been here by now.” Ricky rubbed his forehead and looked to the ground in thought. What if something had happened to her when she came back? What if a wickrit had gotten her?

  “I hope she hasn’t gotten into some kind of trouble with Groslivo over that Shelby situation…” Dergus said, scratching his chin.

  “Shelby? You know Shelby?” Henry blurted.

  “Yes, she was here with Lady Sarah and the young lord here just a few days ago,” Dergus replied.

  “Lady Sarah?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.” Dergus gave him a strange look and headed across the courtyard to the hall doors with Ricky.

  Henry saw a movement in the corner of his eye and peered up at the watchtower on one side of the gate. A bearded man in a pennant-style tunic looked down at him. Henry followed the other stone tower up and saw a second man, in the same colors as the first guard, gaze down at him with a quizzical look on his face. Henry turned back and saw Dergus and Ricky enter the two-story stone building at the end of the courtyard. He jogged after them and finally found them in an archaic kitchen.

  Ricky was listening to a distressed white-haired woman. When he caught up with the conversation, he heard her say that a letter had just come from Sarah. The woman pulled it out of her apron pocket and handed it to Ricky.

  “Ricky? Are you all right?” Henry took the letter from him once it was clear he was done reading. The paper slipped out of Ricky’s lax hand easily. Henry recognized Sarah’s handwriting but didn’t understand the meaning of her message or why he cared about a letter that had nothing to do
with why she had appeared to be in a coma back in her bed. “Who’s Vasimus?” he felt compelled to ask.

  “Dergus? Can we get another stroomphblutel?” Ricky asked the old man.

  Dergus puffed out his cheeks and blew the air out like he was thinking. “I’ll see what I can do, m’lord.” He left them and went back outside.

  “What’s a stroomphblutel?” Henry asked, looking to Ricky. Henry turned to the woman and gave her a pleading look.

  “Are you not from Farwin Wood, dear?” Netta asked.

  “Farwin Wood…” he repeated the name after her for the simple fact that he didn’t know why so many people seemed to think it a commonly known place. “No. I’m from…Blinney.” He looked back to Ricky.

  Ricky then spoke to Netta like he wasn’t standing there, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “He doesn’t know anything about all of this. He still doesn’t believe we came here through the book.”

  “Ohhh.” Netta’s face lit up in understanding. She gave him a kind smile. “I’m Netta, housekeeper and cook of Allister Hall. I’ve served the Allister family for years.” Henry glanced around the primitive tomblike room. “And you are?”

  “Uh, Henry. I deliver things to Sarah’s store.” He stumbled over his words, not knowing why his explanation felt like it would be foreign to the woman. Her face beamed in recognition; she reached out and clasped his hand.

  “You’re Henry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh! Sarah told me about you! What a handsome man you are, I must say. She’s certainly chosen well.” The old woman smiled so widely her eyes crinkled at the corners as she gave him a once-over.

  “Chosen well? She told you about me?” He staggered, overwhelmed by all that had occurred today and the news that Sarah had spoken about him to anyone.

  He backed up and took a seat on the bench by Ricky. Sarah never went anywhere, he thought. Who are these people that all seem to be so familiar with her? And where the hell are we? It’s starting to sound like she has an entire life I don’t even know about. Henry realized he was gawking like a fool in his bewilderment.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t even know where we are. This is all a little too much for me. Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  “You poor thing,” Netta said and patted him on the shoulder. “Ricky’s telling the truth. There are two worlds—yours and ours. And this, this book, for whatever reason, has the power to bring you to ours. I’ve never been to your world, but Sarah told me all about it and she would never lie to me. She even told me about you. She fancies you, you know.” Netta gave him a knowing look.

  “Fancy— She does?” His breath caught from the shock.

  “Oh, she wouldn’t have told me if she didn’t, but she never had the heart to tell you about the strange things that happen, like with the book. She imagined you’d…well, react as you are now and think she had gone mad.”

  He laughed in disbelief on multiple counts. It made no sense at all, but would explain everything—about today and about so many interactions with her over the last five years.

  “Is that all I had to do to get you to believe me, Henry? Is tell you that my aunt goes gaga whenever you’re around?” Ricky finally rejoined the conversation.

  Henry grimaced. “I never said I believed all this…yet.”

  “Well, you’d better start believing because she’s here and she’s in trouble! If we can’t find a way to help her she might never be able to get back to Blinney Lane.” Ricky’s expression was sour. “I am sorry that I dragged you into this, though. I didn’t know who else to ask for help.”

  Henry looked from Ricky to Netta and back out into the great room. Candles flickered on the walls. There was no electricity. He hadn’t seen any cars on the road, either—a dirt road.

  “What kind of trouble?” he found himself asking and abandoning the need to make sense of everything.

  “Remember how I said if you don’t leave here with everything you came with, the book can pull you back in?”

  “Vaguely…”

  “Well, I didn’t know about the book and loaned it to Shelby. Shelby woke up in the book, so we had to come in and help her get back out since she was like you and didn’t know what the hell was going on. That’s where we were when we said we went “camping”. While we were here, Sarah must have lost something. I know that because the book was locked up in her shop yesterday. It wasn’t even open. There’s no way she would have gone in just by falling asleep. It pulled her back in, back here to Farwin Wood! She lost something when we came here over the weekend and doesn’t know what it is. Netta said she couldn’t find anything Sarah would have brought with her when we came here.” Ricky spoke quickly, like he was terrified.

  “Then we’ll just look for it. What would it be?” He swallowed after hearing his own words. He was in a book? How long did the air last in a book? How had Ricky said you get out of the book?

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t even know according to that letter.” Ricky stood up and began to pace. He leaned his head back and folded his fingers on the top of it as he walked.

  Henry looked down at the rugged parchment paper and read the words again. “Who is this Vasimus guy and why is she at Daun—Daundecort Hall?”

  “Vasimus was her first love. Her only love, though—maybe that has changed,” Netta said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

  She told him a story about Richard and Deronda and all that had passed. Ricky left them to search for whatever Sarah was missing.

  Henry felt like he’d discovered another planet as he listened to Netta. If all of it was true, how could Sarah, or anyone for that matter, have gone on and functioned in a normal life afterward? The whole thing was too much to take in all at once. He felt mentally exhausted.

  Most of the time, Henry prided himself on being calm and content. He wasn’t quick to get a rise out of and rarely was he ever depressed. He thought of himself as a happy guy. Now, however, he sat with a storm of emotions. He felt empathy for Sarah for losing a friend; her childhood innocence; her close relationship with her brother; and even losing love. He had to admit that he also felt jealousy toward this Vasimus character, especially if he now distressed Sarah after all these years. She was too fragile and kind to combat any manipulative ploys of guilt. Henry silently bemoaned the burden she must have felt all these years of worrying about others and neglecting her own happiness. However, he mostly mulled over what Netta had said about Sarah’s feelings for him. Sarah cared for him but felt she had to hide it?

  “I can’t find anything, Netta!” Ricky whined when he came back into the great room. “Did she leave any strange-looking clothes when we left? Something that might not be familiar to you?”

  “No, Ricky. I’m sorry. I couldn’t find anything either, and I sewed every dress she ever wore in Farwin Wood with my own hands, so I’d recognize anything foreign.”

  “What I don’t understand is why she didn’t wake up here.” Ricky folded his arms over his chest. “Why did she wake up at Vasimus’s place? When Henry and I arrived, we woke up in the same place me and Aunt Sarah did, just outside Oedher Village. You’d think she’d either have woken up where we normally arrive or maybe here where we left Farwin Wood.”

  The three of them were silent, each lost in their own assumptions.

  Henry broke the silence by asking, “You said the book pulled her back in?”

  “That’s what she warned me about,” Ricky said, grumbling.

  “Well, if it’s a pulling force because she lost something, would the force be from the thing she lost?” He felt his cheeks grow warm as Netta and Ricky stared at him. “I’m sorry, I know that sounds stupid. I don’t know how this works.”

  “No…” Netta smiled and looked at Ricky.

  “Yeah, that might make sense.” Ricky rubbed his thumb against his index finger held out before him. “If that’s what caused the pull to come back and she woke up at Daundecort Hall, then maybe what she lost is there!”

&nbs
p; “Why would it be there? She didn’t go there,” Netta said.

  “I know, but she went traipsing all over Farwin Wood. Maybe whatever she lost made its way there,” Ricky said, shrugging.

  “My goodness, I wouldn’t have thought of that!” Netta exclaimed. “Dergus and I will keep looking here, even in the courtyard, just in case. Do you think you could go to Daundecort Hall to your aunt? I don’t like the thought of her being there alone with Lord Vasimus after the way he spoke to her.”

  “What did he do to her?” Henry asked, snapping.

  Netta grimaced. “His words were not pleasant. They did not part well.”

  “Ricky, let’s go. Where does this guy live?”

  EVERY SINGLE patron in Oedher Tavern stopped speaking and stared at Ricky and Henry when they walked in the door. It was weird for Ricky to think that the first pub he’d ever been in was one in a fictional land. The room was dark and smelled of dank beetleburry ale and sweat. Several women sat in the laps of some filthy-haired men at the round wooden tables that littered the tavern hall.

  Ricky swallowed as the eyes scanned over him and Henry. Most of the expressions he was met with were of awe, likely at Henry’s size. Some were curious as they fixated on their much cleaner clothing, while others just seemed annoyed. He felt like he’d just farted and robbed their bank. Did they have banks here?

  Clearing his throat, he called, “I am looking for the brothers Wortwart.”

  After a pause, a chair in the back of the room creaked as a wild looking red-haired man stood up from his seat. “We are Wortwart,” the man said, drawling out, hands on hips. A man in the seat next to his slowly turned and peered over his shoulder at Ricky. His square jaw and thick nose made his face look exactly like the first man’s; he had matching red hair, too.