“Something about this place washes out your mind and makes you forget a lot of things,” he went on. “It takes away everything except what you most want. I wanted to see my sister. You want to go home.”
I couldn’t figure out if he was lying to make the awkwardness go away, or if that’s what he had actually taken from what had just transpired. I also couldn’t figure out if I should be relieved or disappointed.
I found myself leaning toward disappointed.
“So what now?” I said.
“I believe that’s the way out,” he said.
I turned around to see him pointing at Marble Arch, which had appeared at the edge of the park.
25
I HADN’T ACTUALLY SEEN MARBLE ARCH BEFORE, BUT IT WAS easy enough to identify. It was, as the name implied, a massive arch made of white stone that must have been marble. It was the obvious destination, and so we walked toward it. It seemed close, but we walked for five minutes, and then ten, and we were no closer. It was like the grass was rolling under us, treadmill style. We still couldn’t go.
“What’s the Shadow Cabinet?” I said again.
“Rory . . .”
“When it came up, things got weird.”
Stephen looked at his hands. He put them in his pockets and took them out again.
“We’re here because of all the things we didn’t tell each other,” I said. “I didn’t tell you about Jane. I didn’t tell you I got kicked out. I didn’t tell you where I was really going. If I’d told you, you wouldn’t have had to chase me. I might not even have gone. Then this wouldn’t have happened. But it did, and I came here for you. And you—you don’t tell people things all the time. And I know it’s your job, I know all that, but, a lot of it? Is because you don’t tell people things. What’s the Shadow Cabinet?”
“I can’t—”
“Look at where we are,” I yelled.
“I know!”
I’d never heard Stephen yell. It was a rumbling, distressing noise. He turned on his heel and walked away a few paces, then turned back.
“All of these problems started because you came here.” His voice was cold—artificially so. I knew what he was doing. It was pretty obvious. He was trying to say something to make me go. Stephen was many things, but a good liar wasn’t one of them. Not for things like this.
“So you don’t care about me,” I said. “And you wish you’d never met me? Is that it?”
“You cause problems. I—”
“Stephen,” I said. “Stop.”
He pulled his glasses off and angrily rubbed his hair.
“I don’t know where I am,” he said, his breath coming quick. “But I know it’s real, and I know you came here for me, and I don’t know how to process that. I know I can’t let this happen to you.”
“No one’s asking you,” I said. “I came here myself.”
“Why?”
There was the question. He genuinely didn’t get it. The blankness on his face was real.
“I haven’t actually met your family,” I said, “but if I do? I think I’m going to do a lot of punching.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m not laughing,” I said. “Somehow, you ended up this way where you think you can sacrifice yourself for everyone and no one can do it for you. I know. I read your file.”
This didn’t help. In fact, as I said it, a hollowness came over his expression, and I knew I had inadvertently screwed up. I think Stephen was prepared for a certain amount of personal information getting out, but me reading that file was somehow wrong.
“Your things,” I said, “we had to take them. All the file said was that you were really good but that you didn’t take care of yourself—”
“What it said,” he cut in, with real anger, “was that I was unstable.”
“It didn’t say that at all.”
He made a noise of disgust and walked off in the direction of the ever-elusive arch. I followed. It eluded us some more. He sat on the ground, and I sat next to him, our legs side by side.
“We don’t get out until I talk, is that it?” he said wearily.
“Unless you have a better idea.”
He flicked some remains of the grass from his knee.
“What I say now,” he said, “it doesn’t go back with us. It stays here. This is critical, Rory.”
I wanted to press into his side. I wanted to hold him, to do everything we’d done before and more—but this was serious. I held my body rigidly in position, in listening mode.
“They recruited me after I joined the squad,” he said. “It’s an organization. They aren’t government. They’re . . . they’re beyond that. It’s the living and the dead. Its entire function is to keep London secure, and it does that by being secret. Once you join, you’re in. That’s it. You don’t quit. It’s always your top priority. They first came to me when I joined the squad. They followed me, watched me. They started to explain how it all worked. At least, the parts I’m allowed to know.”
He concentrated, looking at his knees, then at me.
“The boundaries between the living and the dead, they used to be better understood. As we’re evidence of, they’re permeable. London is what you might think of as a place of passage—a port city, places where the water meets the land. There are several like it: Paris, Giza, Rome, Shanghai, Baghdad, New York, Santiago, New Delhi, São Paulo, Alexandria, a few others. New Orleans is one, actually. When I saw that’s where you were from, when I first met you, I thought you might be one of us. I figured out pretty soon you weren’t, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence you come from there. It’s a powerful place.”
He glanced over at me for a moment.
“These places of passage tend to be in cities because humans instinctively gather at them, often because of the rivers. The rivers are key. A long time ago, protections were put down to try to strengthen these unstable places. That’s the thing about all of this—we always think of humans as gaining knowledge as we go on, but we used to know a lot more, about this at least. The system of protection was extremely complex, with some of it being visible and some of it being hidden. In some places, it didn’t hold very well. Those places tend to have problems. Still, as long as there’s some kind of barrier, things generally work as they should. In London, a series of eight powerful stones were placed in key locations. The seventh stone was designed to move and was traditionally put in the crown of the king, but it was stolen, and it was smashed.”
“The Eye of Isis,” I said.
“The Eye of Isis. The terminus. How do you know about that?”
“Freddie.”
“Freddie. Of course. It doesn’t surprise me that she knows something about it.”
“She’d heard of the Shadow Cabinet, but she didn’t think it was a real thing. She didn’t think termini were real either.”
“Well, it sounds absurd. It’s meant to. The Shadow Cabinet generates some of the more implausible stories about itself. They even adopted the name just so people would be confused by the fact that there’s a government body with the same title. But the name fits. We work in the shadows and deal with the shadows. Some real information about the group and its work is out there, but not much. The Eye of Isis and the Oswulf Stone are the two stones that are generally known to those who look around enough.”
“What about the others?”
He shook his head.
“You can’t say,” I said.
“No,” he said. “Nor do I know the full picture. It’s safer that way. Our job is to protect those stones. Telling people we exist means telling people about what really protects London.”
“And what happens if they’re moved? What’s so bad about it?”
He looked up and blinked into the sunny day that stretched above us.
“Things fall apart,” he said. “I thin
k it depends on what you believe. Do you remember when Newman was quoting Revelation during the Ripper scare?”
“‘The name of the star is Wormwood,’” I said. I knew my Revelation because our local seafood place put a quote from it up every week on their sign. This is why we called it Scary Seafood. I could instantly recall images of seals breaking and lions and lambs and blood, all mixed in my memory with the smell of fried shrimp.
“So,” I said, “not good.”
“No.”
We fell silent for a few moments.
“Are Callum and Boo in the Shadow Cabinet?”
He shook his head no.
“Thorpe?”
“Has no idea it exists. At least one member of this squad has always been in the Shadow Cabinet. I was recruited because of the three terminus stones. They’re part of the Eye of Isis. The Eye of Isis was broken into a dozen pieces. We had three, just three. Now we have one.”
He looked at me again, but this time his gaze was steady, and sad.
“Me,” I said. “Your job is to protect me.”
“It became my job the moment the power of the stone went into you.”
I couldn’t understand why this made him look so sad.
“So what?” I said. “We know what I am.”
“I’m saying . . .” He inhaled deeply. “I’m saying I have a job I have to do that’s much bigger than me and how I feel. I’m supposed to keep you safe. I’m supposed to keep you in London. It’s very, very complicated.”
“It’s not that complicated. I’m still me.”
“Believe me. I know. But I’m alone in thinking that way. To the Shadow Cabinet, you’re a stone. You’re a thing to be watched and kept. It matters. You don’t understand. It’s all that matters.”
There was such finality to it that the conversation seemed to fall to the ground. It was quiet in the park, with all of London’s noise put away. No birds. No wind. Just us. Stephen had told me his secret, and yet, we were still here, still staring at Marble Arch in the distance.
“Jane has two terminus stones,” I said, almost as an afterthought. “They were Sid and Sadie’s. She has them in a locket around her neck.”
“Jane? Has two terminus stones?”
“Like the ones you had.”
That would have been such critical information before. Now it felt like a minor detail. I continued to turn what Stephen had said over in my mind.
“Did you come after me because I’m a stone?” I asked. “Is that the only reason you’re interested in me?”
“I would have done that no matter what,” he said.
“But is that why you—you know. What we did. Did you just pretend to like me?”
“Rory, I don’t think you understand—”
I didn’t get to hear what it was I didn’t understand, because there was one noise. A car, purring along. It wasn’t so much that it was a loud sound as much as it was the only other sound in that moment. Everything else went on mute and the atmosphere was filled with the gentle rumble of the car.
“They’re here,” he said. “I think we need to go.”
When we stood, I saw the yellow car slowly making its way around the edge of the park. We started walking again. This time, however, we made progress. In fact, we seemed to be in front of the arch in a moment. Directly at the center, there was a Tube entrance—the familiar red-and-blue circular sign, an opening, and a set of stairs leading down.
“That’s not where the Marble Arch Tube entrance is located,” Stephen said. “It’s across the street.”
“This isn’t the Tube,” I said.
“No.”
The car was at the curb. I heard the doors open but didn’t turn around to look. This was the end. I knew it because when I looked down the steps, I saw nothing at all. It wasn’t just that it was dark or shadowy—it was nothing.
“Come on,” I said.
“You go. I’ll follow.”
Like I said, Stephen was a bad liar.
“Together,” I said.
“Rory—”
“Together.”
“Rory, they can’t come back with us. I can’t let it happen.”
He sounded sad, but it was nothing compared to how I felt.
“Okay,” I said. “Then I guess we both stay here.”
“Rory—”
“Stop saying my name,” I said to Stephen. “Here’s what you need to understand. What happened the other night? It was kind of important. It was kind of the most important thing. You matter to me. I had to watch you die, and I am not doing that again. So either you come with me, or we’re both staying.”
“Darlings!” Sid called.
They were walking toward us calmly, like we were meeting for a picnic in the park. Sid raised a hand in greeting and smiled.
“There’s nothing you can do,” I said.
“There’s always something. This is my duty. This isn’t a discussion.”
“You’re right,” I said. “It’s not.”
I pushed him down the steps. I guess he was in no way expecting this. I saw the surprise. I saw that his body didn’t lock and guard like it does if you know you’re going to fall. He stumbled against the wall, then rolled down a few steps, and I saw him knock his head, and then I couldn’t see him at all.
His head . . . his head? Again?
Sid and Sadie were still a bit in the distance, but coming closer. Now I understood—I had been charged with getting all three of them out. If I wanted Stephen, Sid and Sadie were coming too. They would pass through, or none of us would pass through.
It was time for me to go. I rushed down the steps, into the void, and then I—
26
I OPENED MY EYES.
I think I did, anyway. Maybe they were already open. Everything was moving in a wide circle, like a carousel. Then everything decided to move in smaller and smaller circles until it stayed still—not that this helped much. I was in a dark place, with little tongues of dancing light around. It smelled very strongly of something smoky. There were voices.
“She’s moving.”
“Did she open her eyes?”
“Move back.”
“Get her water.”
Then there was a glass of water hovering over me, clasped in a hand. Someone was helping me sit up by pulling me up under the armpits. The water was put to my lips, and I drank some, but I had trouble swallowing, and it ran down my chin.
“Rory?”
That voice I knew. I turned to see Jane next to me. I was on a sofa, covered in a blanket. It was Jane who was giving me the water.
“You’ll need this,” she said, wiping my chin with her hand. “Try to drink.”
Something thrummed in the back of my mind—a kind of ticking clock. I had to hurry. But hurry to do what? No, something had to happen now. Something should have happened? Was I late for class?
I drank again, and it ran out of my mouth again. A third try was more successful, and the water going down my throat turned out to be one of the most welcome feelings I could imagine. I gulped more and more, until I choked on the water and Jane took the glass away.
There were other people in this dark room. I’d seen them before, but couldn’t place them at the moment. A boy with blond hair and a girl with dark brown hair. The boy reminded me very strongly of someone. His clothes were weird—like a costume. He was trying to dress like someone I knew.
“We weren’t sure if you were coming back for a moment,” Jane said. Her voice was affectionate. I knew I shouldn’t be with Jane, but she was taking care of me. Why? And these three people on the floor—two looked strange but familiar. And Stephen? Why was he sleeping on the floor? I knew the answer to this question, but I couldn’t place it.
“What . . .”
“It’s all right,” Jane said. “Now you are
returned, by the blessing of Demeter, you are returned.”
Jane stood and addressed the group.
“It is time,” she said. “The vigil is over. If it is to happen, it will happen now. For this, I must be alone with them, and you must do your part. Blessed Demeter.”
Everyone in the room said, “Blessed Demeter.” Then there were hugs, like this was a big day. The group trailed out, and it was just Jane and me and Stephen and the two strangers on the floor.
“You have been very brave, Rory,” she said.
How did I know these people? I had definitely seen them before. If only I could think. I should have been more concerned about Stephen, but it felt like we’d just been talking? In his father’s room. No. Somewhere else. Another room. I’d been with Stephen in another room.
All my thoughts were like balloons. I’d reach for them, but they’d float off if I didn’t catch the string just right. All I knew was that I had to get off this sofa and to Stephen. This was maybe a distance of eight feet, but at the moment it felt like it might as well have been eight miles. When I tried to move, all my limbs were heavy. They got the message from my brain that they were supposed to do something, but they didn’t seem to have a clear idea of what. Instead of standing, I fell from the sofa. My legs were two dumb sacks of meat. I dragged myself along the floor. I could only think of a picture I must have seen in art history—maybe other places—a famous painting of a girl dragging herself across a field toward a house that seems so vital and far away. Of all the things my brain was offering me now, only this was clear. I was the girl in the field, and I had to move myself across this room. The physical effort this took cleared my mind a bit more. Stephen . . . Stephen was . . .
I was getting some motion in my knees now, which meant I could crawl the last two paces. Jane paid me no mind. She was intent on the two strangers. They looked so much alike, blond and weird and dressed in white. I knew these people. I knew I didn’t want to be in the same room with them. By the time I got to Stephen, I was exhausted. I fell against his chest. It wasn’t moving.
The Shadow Cabinet Page 24