The Width of the World

by David Baldacci

  She nodded, her eyes full of fear, as I’m sure mine were.

  I had tried to sound confident, but I wasn’t. I had the sinking feeling that whatever spell I used against him, Endemen would easily parry it before finishing me and then the others off.

  The men started toward the house. I glanced quickly at Delph. He had taken Lackland’s old, rusted sword out of his tuck and was holding it ready.

  Yet even as I found his gaze, I knew what he was thinking.

  A sword against a wand was not really a fair fight.

  Harry Two nudged my arm. At first I thought he was telling me he was ready to fight to the death, though I already knew this.

  Only he wasn’t.

  He was nudging me to look back outside.

  I did so, and received quite a shock.

  Endemen and his blokes were standing around and talking in low tones.

  “They must have gone another way,” said one of the men to Endemen.

  Endemen just kept looking around. Occasionally his gaze hit the house squarely, but he gave no reaction.

  The wonderful truth hit me.

  I said, “He can’t see the bloody house.”

  “Aye, he can’t,” agreed Delph.

  “Is it because of your invisibility spell?” asked Petra in a very low voice.

  I shook my head. “I can’t think how it would be able to hide a place this big.”

  “Look, they’re heading off,” exclaimed Delph.

  I gaped at this, but whatever the reason, I was very glad to see the back of them.

  As Endemen reached the tree line, he turned around for a moment and gazed thoughtfully in our direction.

  As though attached at the hip, the four of us immediately ducked down below the windowsill.

  When we looked back out a few seconds later, he was gone.

  We collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

  I turned to look over my shoulder at the interior of the house.

  “Who lived here, I wonder?” asked Delph.

  “Dunno. But I’m awfully glad it is here.”

  “What do we do now?” Petra wanted to know.

  I stood erect.

  “Find out what this place is, of course,” I said firmly.

  VIRTUALLY EVERY BUILDING I’d ventured into since leaving Wormwood had held elements of incredible danger. And this place might not be any different. Yet I took solace in the fact that we were still invisible, though if anyone lived here, they would probably wonder how their front door had opened and closed apparently on its own.

  “Be alert,” I said to the others as we moved forward.

  The first obvious thing was the size of the place. Though from the outside it didn’t appear nearly that large, it seemed to me that both Stacks and Steeples would fit comfortably inside this place.

  A suit of armor stood guard in the large entrance hallway. It was spotless, though it had several large dings in it. In a holder by its side was a long, deadly-looking sword.

  Every room we entered seemed larger than the last. The walls were wood, or stone, or tile, or even metal. The furnishings were large and comfortable. There was weaponry on the walls, battle-axes and lances and knives and other things I didn’t recognize, but which looked deadly enough.

  The place was lighted by things we couldn’t see, but it seemed to me that captured in the ceiling were little swirls of illumination, almost like the cucos we had seen back in the Quag.

  There were fireplaces aplenty, and washrooms like the one I had seen at Morrigone’s ages ago.

  We entered a book-lined library and found a large desk and comfortable chairs. Next, there was a kitchen so enormous it was hard to see the other end. It had a huge blackened metal stove and a fireplace with a large metal pot hanging from an iron hook. There was a long wooden table for eating and a cupboard full of plates, cloth napkins, cups and utensils, all neatly stacked.

  I poked my head into another cupboard that was full of food of all types, again all neatly organized and obviously fresh. This was odd since the place seemed abandoned. Though the style was old, from the worm-eaten beams on the ceiling to the venerable and colorful rugs on the knotty walnut floors, it all looked well kept, which, again, was strange.

  Yet what fascinated me the most were the portraits on the walls. They were numerous, and each was of a different male or female. And they all had the names of the subject on a little brass plate attached to the frame.

  Thus, I knew that it was Bastion Cadmus’s painting hung over the enormous fireplace in a room that was the largest we had seen thus far. He was a tall, strongly built, fierce-looking fellow with a short black beard, startling green eyes and thick brows that nearly touched in the center of his forehead. I could understand why our lot had made him their leader. His masterful, tough, confident appearance seemed to fit the type.

  So was this his old home? If so, that gave me some hope. At least I knew he was a good bloke. And yet I wondered what had happened to this place after he had died. Had it passed into the hands of his descendants? But if our lot had fled to Wormwood, they couldn’t have stayed here. Had the Maladons taken it over? But Endemen and his cronies couldn’t see the place, which argued against it having fallen into Maladon hands.

  Not knowing really what to think, I turned away from the portrait and kept exploring.

  Astrea Prine occupied a prominent place in the library between two sets of bookcases. She looked like she had when we’d stayed at her cottage in the Quag. Young, intense, a bit foreboding really. A portrait of my ancestor Jasper Jane hung in a dark corner of a short hallway. I didn’t know if this was because he liked to dabble in dark sorcery or not. But he had helped me in the Quag, or at least his soul had, so I had nothing but good feelings about him. Although the Fifth Circle of the Quag, which he had designed, had very nearly killed us all!

  And then there were many other portraits of people I had never heard of, but who apparently held some important place in the magical world.

  I found Delph in one corner of a room off the main hall staring at something.

  I went over to him. “Delph, what is it?”

  In answer he pointed to a painting on the wall. It was a male astride a winged slep, or horse I guess these blokes would call it. And on his shoulder was a large, menacing-looking hawk.

  “Who is it?”

  He pointed to the nameplate at the bottom of the painting.

  “Samuel Delphia?” I read. “Delph, he’s an ancestor of yours,” I added excitedly.

  Delph nodded. “And it looks like he gets along with beasts. Same as Dad. Bet they woulda got on right well.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “I bet they would have.”

  He rubbed his eyes and wiped at his nose. “I miss him, y’know, me dad. Hope he’s okay.”

  “I miss him too, Delph. But remember, he wanted you to leave Wormwood.”

  “I know, Vega Jane, I know.”

  He rubbed his eyes again, and then his expression changed.

  “Hang on, though.”

  “What?”

  “Well, there was that bloke Barnabas Delphia back at Wolvercote Cemetery. And now Samuel. They were both magical, I ‘spect.”

  “I guess so,” I said slowly.

  “But I’m not. No mark on my hand or nothing.”

  He said this lightly, but I could tell by his features that he so desperately wanted it not to be true. Delph wanted to be magical. But it wasn’t in my power to make him so.

  “I know I never would have gotten this far without you, wand or not.”

  He thanked me with a smile and then looked around. “You think this is a friendly place, eh, Vega Jane? I mean, it seems to only have our kind in the paintings. No Maladons, right?”

  “R-right,” I said cautiously. “But remember how things started with Astrea Prine. And she’s our kind.”

  At my words, Delph instantly gripped his sword more tightly even as Petra and I kept our wands at the ready.

  I wanted
to believe that this was a friendly place, but I had been fooled before.

  Finally, starving as we were, I led us back to the kitchen — with enormous enthusiasm from Delph — and we set about making a meal, although I cautioned that we should keep our guard up. There was no telling what was in this place, or whether Endemen and his fiendish cronies might come back and suddenly see this pile of stone and brick good and proper. So I decided to keep us invisible.

  I got the stove hot and put cured ham and sausages and a great slab of beef that was perfectly fresh into a big skillet. Petra started cutting vegetables she’d found in bins in the pantry. And Delph got the kettle in the fireplace filled with water from a pump in the sink and started a fire under it. He announced that he would be making soup.

  There was a chamber off the kitchen behind a thick door. It was freezing inside and for good reason. In addition to the meat I had already gotten out, there was milk and cheeses and other perishables, including dough for bread. I took as much as I could carry.

  Very soon the aromas of all the cooking food commingled into a mass of flavorful scents that made my mouth water. Poor Harry Two was actually panting in anticipation.

  But this was not making me feel more comfortable. It was making me feel more on edge.

  Petra sidled over to me and whispered, “Vega, all this food here is good and fresh.”

  I nodded, knowing exactly where she was going with this.

  “Someone lives here,” I whispered back. “And they might be here right now.”

  “So I wonder when they’re going to show themselves?”

  “Well, we haven’t shown ourselves yet.”

  “Right, but they must know someone is here. We’re moving things around.”

  “They might be scared. Things floating through the air and all.”

  “They might,” she said, clearly not believing this.

  Petra and I had laid out the plates, bowls, cups, utensils and napkins on the long wooden table.

  I put food down for Harry Two, and when everything was ready we commenced eating, and didn’t stop until our bellies were near to bursting. I had never had enough food to eat growing up. So I savored every mouthful, every bite and every swallow of the deliciously cool milk. I did so because I had no idea what the next day would hold for us.

  We finished our meal and walked up to the second floor of the house, reached by a broad, balustraded stairway that reminded me of the one at Stacks.

  I looked at the others. “Okay, with all the food and such here it seems that this place is not abandoned, yet we haven’t seen anyone. But they could be hiding. Now, we could all stay together and invisible for the night. That might be best.”

  “Are you nutters?” Petra snapped. “That’ll make us one bleeding easy target, all together like that. We searched this floor. There’s no one up here and there are three bedrooms in a row. We can each take one and we’ll be close enough to cry out if something happens.” She paused and gazed appraisingly at Delph. “Or Delph can stay with me and Harry Two with you.”

  “Why not Delph with me and Harry Two with you?” I retorted.

  “Because your canine is loyal to you, that’s why. He’ll be pining all night for you. So Delph with me. And we each have a wand. So that works.”

  I glanced at Delph, whose face was turning redder by the second. “Each going to our own bedrooms works just fine,” I said tersely. “Delph’s room can be in the middle and I can put a shield spell on his door so nobody can disturb him.”

  Petra looked at me, and I thought I saw a condescending smile begin to tug at her mouth.

  I took a deep breath and convinced myself not to attack her.

  I released the tethers, and we said our good nights and trudged off.

  I turned my ring around so I became visible. If anything were going to attack us, I didn’t want them to only go after Delph and Petra.

  My bedchamber was large and well-furnished. I hung up my few pieces of clothing in an ornately carved wardrobe, undressed and climbed into bed.

  The house had inexplicably grown dark as soon as we finished our meal, so we had found and lit some candles, which we had carried upstairs.

  Harry Two jumped up onto the bed and settled down at the foot of it.

  I blew out my candle and lay my head back against the pillow.

  That’s when I saw it.

  Or rather her.

  I very nearly screamed.

  She was staring down at me from the ceiling.

  Then I realized it was simply a painting of a young woman. She had long, flowing blond hair and large blue eyes. Her cheeks were pink and healthy, but the expression on her face wiped all of that glowing beauty away.

  I don’t believe I’d ever seen a sadder look in all my life.

  I felt my own mouth curving downward into a frown as I stared at her.

  I wondered who she was. And why was her portrait on the ceiling and not framed on the wall like the others?

  I sat up, and then something else struck me. How could I see her in the darkness? There was no light coming from the window. When I had blown out my candle, I could barely see Harry Two lying a few feet from me. And yet the ceiling was a good twenty feet high.

  It made no sense.

  I lit my candle to get a better look.

  And received my second shock.

  She’d disappeared. The ceiling was now merely blank plaster.

  I thrust off my bedcovers and stood on the bed and then on my tiptoes to get a better look. I held my candle as high as I could.

  Yet there was nothing to see.

  I sat back down and blew out the candle.

  And waited.

  Sure enough, there she appeared.

  Then I blinked and rubbed my eyes. A stroke of fear slashed through me.

  Her hair was still long and still blond.

  But now it was moving.

  I instinctively grabbed my wand off the nightstand and held it ready.

  I had experienced so many surprises going through the Quag and now in this new place that I well knew that anything, no matter how innocent it might first appear, could be planning to murder me.

  But she made no sudden movements. Her eyes now blinked and her mouth moved slightly. I had the distinct impression that she was watching me, perhaps wondering what I was doing here.

  What happened next proved me right.

  “Who are you?”

  The words floated down to me, soft, lovely sounding, but inked in them was, well, despair, I guessed, coupled with an enormous feeling of loss.

  “I-I’m …” Steeples help me, I’d forgotten my own name!

  “Vega … I’m Vega Jane,” I finally managed to blurt out.

  I grabbed a quick breath when the woman, body and all, floated down from the ceiling to sit next to me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, but I did see, in my peripheral vision, Harry Two turn to stare at her. But he made no sound. This buoyed my spirits because my canine always sensed danger before I did.

  “Vega Jane?” she said.

  The large eyes took me in, from head to foot.

  I nodded. “Who are you?”

  “I am called Uma.”

  Uma? Uma? I had seen that name somewhere; I just couldn’t remember where.

  “Is this your home?” I asked.

  The thing was, I could see pretty much right through her. And her clothes were not of this time. She was clearly from the past.

  “No. But I came here often. I like it here.”

  “Are you … ?”

  She nodded. “I am dead. And have been for a very long time.”

  Then it struck me where I’d seen the name before. On a gravestone at Wolvercote Cemetery, right before we’d entered the First Circle of the Quag.

  “You’re Uma Cadmus?”

  She nodded.

  “Your father was Bastion Cadmus?”

  She nodded again.

  “Are you a ghost?”

  She shook he
r head. “Not a ghost, no.”

  “I’m not seeing your soul then, am I? I saw my ancestor Jasper Jane’s soul once.”

  “No, I am not a soul.”

  Well, I had exhausted all my possible choices. “What are you, then?”

  “Regret.”

  “Regret? What exactly does that mean? We all have regrets.”

  “Indeed we do. But some are far greater than others. And if they are powerful enough, they can consume you completely. That is my fate. For eternity.”

  And with that ominous answer, she vanished. I lay back in bed after giving Harry Two a reassuring pat.

  So this wasn’t her home, even though there was a large painting of her father downstairs. So this place must have belonged to someone else. And regret? I wondered what she regretted so much.

  I pulled the bedcovers up closer around me, as though the bit of fabric would protect me from all evil.

  And that’s when I heard the scream.

  AS I PASSED Delph’s bedroom, I heard him pounding on the door. I released my shield spell and the door flew open, revealing Delph in his nightshirt.

  He gasped, “Who’s screaming?”

  “It’s Petra!“ I exclaimed.

  We ran to her door, Harry Two growling and barking with concern.

  I had my wand out and ready.

  Delph reached the door first and tried to open it. He bounced off.

  Petra screamed again.

  Delph charged the door once more, slamming his full weight against it.

  He was flung back off like he weighed nothing.

  I pointed my wand and said, “Ingressio.”

  My spell rebounded, but I saw the door buckle a bit.

  “Impacto,” I cried out, and the door exploded into fragments.

  We rushed inside to see Petra hanging upside down from the ceiling, a maelstrom of light, flashing figures and fire all around her struggling body. Things were striking her from all angles, and each collision caused another cut or slash to her skin.

  I was so stunned by what I was seeing that for a moment I didn’t know what to do.

  “Vega! Help me!”

  I broke out of my muddle to see Petra looking at me with panicked eyes.

  I raised my wand and cast a shield spell around her.

  The lightning-fast objects bounced off it and whizzed around the room.