“Though we aren’t dead. But if we want to keep it that way, you will have to trust me, okay?”
Eddie seemed to nod, but it was hard to tell in the dark, with an icy wind roaring and the wail and crash of an air raid all around. Far below the dark city turned, the light from fires the only clear points of reference beyond the amber-lit dome of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. And still David strained higher and higher. But Adam was closing fast. He reached out with one pale, grasping hand to snatch David back down.
It was time.
David hauled Eddie up and allowed their two dreamselves to combine.
The first thing David felt was Eddie’s continued astonishment. But close behind this was the intense sensation of joining his own mind with something extraordinary. He’d always known Eddie was smart. He’d been told again and again at Unsleep House that his grandfather was some sort of genius. But nothing could have prepared him for the strength and clarity of Eddie’s pure mental form. His own mind was exhausted and battered, but as it began to combine with Eddie’s he felt a wave of untapped power flooding into his own dreamself, giving him all the force of his grandfather’s brilliance and potential.
But then Adam seized him.
David acted quickly, twisting in the air and lashing out at Adam. His twofold mind pulse caught the eighteen-year-old square in the chest.
There was a ringing sound and Adam was flung back. He somersaulted far from them in an uncontrolled spin, vanishing into the night with a trailing cry. But within moments he was back, bursting out of a growing cloud bank like a furious crow and hurtling toward them.
David, doubled with Eddie, braced himself for the attack. Time seemed to slow as their combining became complete. David knew that he was in control, that Eddie was too confused to make decisions, and he drew forward all the mental energy he could from two minds working as one. But even as he did so he felt something else, as if there was a third mind there with them, someone who was intimately linked to both David and Eddie, a bridge between the two. For a moment David sensed the vivid and unmistakable presence of Eddie’s unborn son — his own lost father.
Adam crashed into David, but David was immovable now and simply grasped Adam in a grip of iron. All the energy of Adam’s attack was thrown back at him, and his dreamself almost exploded with the strain of it. He cried out in agony, but David didn’t let go. Adam tried to fight back, to force David’s grip to break, but his dreamself was growing ragged and losing its features. The suit and cane had gone, to be replaced by a rippling black abstraction of a body.
Then, with a supreme effort, Adam got one arm free and smashed his spectral fist into David’s face. David hardly felt a thing. Instead, he merely hit back, and as he struck he could feel Adam’s mind start to crumble.
“Curse you, curse you …” Adam’s thoughts would have been clear to David even without the words. He grabbed Adam with both hands and began to pull. He twisted him as he’d seen Adam himself do to Petra and Théo. Adam cried out and began heaving, desperate to get away. But he couldn’t. He could do nothing but yell helplessly as David twisted and pulled him to breaking point and … CRACK!
There was a sudden release of mental power, an explosion of dark light as Adam’s dreaming mind finally snapped. David was caught off guard and felt Eddie’s mind wrenched away from his own. David’s solitary dreamself was carried away by the shock wave, and he lost all sense of place and time. His last thoughts were of the certainty of Adam’s destruction, but also of the loss of Eddie.
Then his mind shut down, and everything went black.
When David opened his eyes the light was too bright. He had to keep them half closed for a long time until they’d adjusted. Then he tried again.
The room he was in was white and clean. Above him were several box-shaped objects with wires and cables beneath them. There was something else there too, strange yet familiar. David looked for a long time before he recognized it. It was a teddy bear.
I’ve seen that before, he thought to himself, but not for a very long time.
He lay there staring at the teddy before he finally realized that he didn’t know where he was. He tried to sit up. His body didn’t respond. Not even his fingers. He wondered if he should be worried about this, but somehow he knew there was nothing seriously wrong. He was very tired, that was all. Very tired and as stiff as a plank. He heard a faint, papery sound, and with an effort he managed to tilt his head slowly and look. Someone was sitting there, her nose in the pages of a tattered old book.
“Hi,” said David, and he was surprised at how weak his voice was.
The person looked up. It was his mum. She met his eyes for a moment and then cried out.
“David!”
She jumped up and pressed a button that hung on a cable beside the bed. Her book fell to the ground, its dust wrapper slipping off as it went. This reminded David of something, but he couldn’t quite remember what. Within seconds there were other people in the room, white coats and clean smells and intent gazes. His mum was speaking quickly, and someone pulled the blinds down, easing the pressure on David’s eyes. Someone else was holding his arm. Was that an injection? Was someone crying?
“Where … ?” David croaked, but he couldn’t manage any more.
“It’s okay, David.” His mother was trying to sound calm and steady. “You’re in the hospital, but everything is going to be fine. You had an accident at school. They brought you here in an ambulance.”
The next time David was able to think clearly, he was propped up in a half-sitting position. He looked around the room. He was obviously still in the hospital, so it was a surprise to see so much stuff that he recognized as his own. Beside the bed was a pile of books and magazines, all of which he’d read before, as well as his games and music player. There were posters on the wall that he’d last seen tacked up in his bedroom, a stack of DVDs on the floor, and a portable CD player that he hadn’t used for years and had covered in stickers. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it looked a bit lame.
“How are you feeling?”
His mum was sitting in the chair again, watching him with a half smile.
“Fi —” David started to say and had to swallow and try again. “Fine, thanks.”
“I brought some of your things.”
“How … how long have I been here?”
His mum pursed her lips and said nothing. David knew then that he’d been lying in this bed for a long time.
“Why did you bring that?” He pointed feebly at the teddy bear.
“I didn’t, it was Philippa,” his mum replied with an awkward smile. “I said you wouldn’t want it, but you know what she’s like. I was just grabbing a few things, and she suddenly appeared with that, insisting you’d want it. You’ve probably forgotten all about it but, well … I brought it anyway.”
She shrugged, looking even more uncomfortable.
“They told me to bring things you would recognize. I’ll take it back home if you like. I suppose it’s a bit embarrassing for a teenager.”
“You think?” David laughed. Then he looked serious. “When can I go home?”
“Not straightaway, so the doctors say. They need to keep an eye on you for a bit. Is there anything I can get you?”
“Mum, what happened to me? I can’t remember anything clearly.”
“An accident at school. It was quite serious. They explained it to me, but … it’s funny, I can’t quite remember exactly what it was now. Isn’t that silly? I’ll ask them to explain it to you later.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Almost two weeks,” said his mother, looking him straight in the eye. “Listen,” she added, clearly wanting to move on to something positive. “There are some people here to see you. From your school. Goodness knows how, but they’ve found out that you’re awake again. They must have spies here or something.”
David’s memory stirred again.
“Spies?”
“Well, not like
James Bond, but you know what I mean. Anyway, they’re waiting outside now. I told them it’d be better if they came back another day, but the doctors think it will do you good to see as many familiar faces as possible. Just tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll go and fetch them.”
David groaned. He really didn’t want to see any of his school friends. And as for the teachers …
“I don’t really fancy seeing Mrs. Fernley right now.”
“Oh, it’s not her. They’re from your new school.”
“New school?”
“Yes. I tell you what,” she said, getting up, “I’ll go and get them now. They’ve already been waiting over an hour.”
After she’d gone, David lay still and silent, trying to identify something elusive that was teasing his memory.
There came a knock at the door, and an old man walked in.
“Hello there!”
His eyebrows were leaping like a pair of crazy caterpillars. He had a box of chocolates under one arm and a roll of printout paper sticking out of his pocket. One of his pens was leaking blue ink onto his jacket.
David stared at him for a moment.
Then he remembered everything.
David and the professor sat in silence. Having made his entrance, Professor Feldrake appeared to have difficulty knowing what to say. He opened the box of chocolates and put it on the bed. Then he helped himself to one.
“Coffee cream. My favorite! I can’t manage the toffees anymore, not with these old teeth. Would you like one, David?”
David waved the chocolates away. “Professor, what happened exactly?”
“Ah. I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that, because we’re not one hundred percent sure. There are a lot of questions we’re hoping you can help us answer.”
“But we did win, didn’t we? We stopped Adam?”
“Yes, David, we did. You did!”
“And what about Adam?”
“Not a sign. Not for two weeks now. In fact, the Haunting has been keeping its head down. Without them hounding us we’ve been completely free to work in peace: deep historical research missions, archaeological intervention … bliss! But as for Adam, well, he hasn’t been detected since they picked him up fighting with you. Given his age and the extraordinary power of your attack, even if he does recover it’ll be far too late for him to bother us again.”
“Professor, what happened to Eddie? He was injured, badly I think, on a ledge.”
“Relax, David,” said the professor. “Don’t forget, though it may feel like you were just there, we’re talking about events that actually took place many, many years ago. Your grandfather survived — after all, you’d hardly be here now if he hadn’t, would you? We can fill you in on the details when you’re better.”
“But I need to know now!” David sat up straight. The professor tried to push him back.
“All right, all right,” said the old man. “It was Kat and …”
“Tomkin!” said David. “Kat and Tomkin were Eddie’s friends. Funny name, Tomkin.”
“Some sort of nickname, I expect.” The professor looked distracted for a moment. Then he continued. “Anyway, yes — Kat and Tomkin contacted the police, and Eddie was taken to hospital. On the police files it says he was injured during an air raid. When he was discharged, he went out to live with his mother at his aunt’s house, and the rest, as they say, is history. It’s remarkable how resilient the time line can be.”
“Kat and Tomkin!” David smiled. “They seemed really interesting, but we hardly got to speak. I wonder what became of them.”
The professor put the chocolate box down.
“I’m afraid they were … unlucky.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just after they brought help to Eddie, they were caught in an explosion. On their way to an air-raid shelter, I understand. I’m sorry to say Kat was killed instantly, and her brother … well, the Archive tells us precious little about either of them.”
David’s smile died. He felt numb. He’d always known that thousands had lost their lives in the London Blitz, but it felt altogether different now that he’d met some of them.
“It’s part of history, David,” said the professor. “Try not to get too involved. It’s not for us to question what’s already happened, remember? I know it sounds hard, but Kat wasn’t destined to survive the Second World War, that’s all. A great many weren’t.”
David shook his head.
“And someone else died,” he said. “I saw it. A man called Grinn.”
The professor shrugged.
“Again, he only had a few months left to live anyway. As I said, the time line is a tough old thing. Even the great Adam Lang couldn’t do more than dent it in the end. Thanks to you.”
“So Eddie’s okay?” said David after a moment. “Was okay, I mean. I can’t wait to see him again, but I suppose I’ll have to find some other time and place —”
“David.” The professor’s voice had a hint of warning in it. “You shouldn’t think about dreamwalking yet, your mind is still very weak. But more than that, I’m afraid there’s no question of visiting Eddie again.”
“But —”
“No.” Professor Feldrake held up his hand. “According to the time line we’ve fought so hard to preserve, Eddie’s ghostly visits stopped after his house was destroyed in the fire, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
David looked away. In his mind he’d already decided to go and visit Eddie again on the quiet, but when he looked back at the professor it was clear the old man knew exactly what was going on in his head.
“Forget it, David. After this scare we decided to use the Inhibitor on Eddie. You remember the Inhibitor, don’t you? It blocks all dreamwalking around a given time and place? Well, we’ve applied it to every single point in Eddie’s life, including the theater attic, now that we know about it. There’ll be no more ghosts for Eddie. His life is locked into its own time, and no one from his future can ever go back and interfere with him again.”
“I wasn’t interfering.” David frowned. “We really were friends, you know.”
“I know, David, I know.” The professor’s voice lost the hard edge it had acquired. “But history comes first. And even the greatest friendship has to come to an end sooner or later.”
David was silent. He was angry to be blocked like this, but he also remembered what Petra had told him in the tunnel to the château, and somehow the simple thought that Eddie was still out there somewhere was a comfort — on a different part of the time line from David, yes, but not so very far away when you thought about it.
“Anyway,” said the professor, rummaging in his pocket, “after your arrest, Sir Edmund’s study was thoroughly searched, and this was discovered. I’m positive it wasn’t there before, so it’s very real and concrete proof that some changes to history did occur. It’s addressed to you.” And the professor handed a sealed paper packet to David. “Naturally, no one has opened it.”
The small packet was surprisingly heavy. As David tore it open, something slid out and landed on the bed. It was a bone handle with cruel steel ends. David felt a sensation of horror as he recognized it: the knife that Charlie Grinn had flung into Eddie’s back. Holding it carefully, he pressed the small steel switch, and the blade flicked out.
The professor jumped.
“This blade,” said David, turning the metal in the cold hospital light and enjoying the professor’s discomfort, “nearly destroyed us all.”
“Good heavens,” said Professor Feldrake, as pale as a ghost.
David put the knife down and reached into the packet. Inside was a letter, in the steeply sloping handwriting of an energetic but elderly man. It was written on a page torn from a notebook and dated to just a few years ago.
Dear David,
Please accept this grisly keepsake. It is a reminder that our existences are fragile, a fact that has certainly helped concentrate my mind over the years. Now, as my time is coming to a close, I
would like you to have it, to remember me by throughout your own life. And may it be a long and happy life too.
We didn’t say a proper good-bye. Of course, I realize now that we could never have met again, but at least this simple piece of paper can do what science and dreamwalking no longer can — finish my apology to you and allow me to express my thanks for saving my life, and for something else too. But first, the apologies.
David, though I have long since dedicated my entire life’s work to you, I’m both ashamed and sorry that I couldn’t have done more after you were born. Given that your early dreamwalking experiences and my own disturbed childhood were so intimately tied up with the foundation of the Dreamwalker Project, the risks to the time line were deemed too great for me to make contact in the present, and I bowed to this ruling like a weak old fool. I am a lousy grandfather, as well as a doubting friend, and I apologize.
With even greater bitterness, I must also apologize for my failure to prevent the death of your father, my son. Naturally I would have done anything to save him, regardless of the consequences, but I simply couldn’t remember or didn’t understand enough from that terrifying night on the rooftop to prevent Adam’s admission into the Project, nor the sorry string of events that led to our terrible mutual loss.
Because of these failings, I hardly deserve the enormous gift you gave to me when we last met. David, thank you a thousand times over for that first taste of dreamwalking. The recollection itself was almost obliterated from my mind by the stresses of the moment, and I have struggled to recover the precious memories of those events ever since. But that brief point in time, high above the city with our united minds unconstrained by the confines of physical law, was the defining moment of my life and the foundation of everything I have done since.
David, thank you.
Edmund Utherwise
David lowered the page and stared at the knife, not knowing what to say. The professor was clearly itching to see what was in the letter but was too polite to ask. Instead he helped himself to another chocolate.
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