by Juman Malouf
“I’m glad you mentioned Jack Cross. I thought you’d forgotten him.”
“How could I forget Jack Cross? He’s my friend. I promised to help him.”
Sonja grunted. “You said you were in love with him first. Now you’re in love with Edgar. I can’t keep up with you.”
Charlotte reflected for a moment. Did she love Jack Cross or did she love Edgar? She was only twelve and a half years old. How was she supposed to know? The one thing she was sure of was that her sister needed to butt out. She yanked Sonja toward her. “Edgar and I are getting married.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, you’re too young.”
“Edgar said all Longwalkers marry young.”
“You can’t live underground.”
“Of course, I can.”
“Tatty won’t let you.”
“Well, Tatty’s not here, is she?” All of a sudden, Charlotte felt a sharp slap across her face. She stared a hard stare at her sister. Sonja looked fierce but guilty. Her hand was frozen in the air. Without saying another word, Charlotte turned and marched away.
“Wait, Charlotte!” she heard her sister yell. “I’m sorry. PORCUPINE!”
Charlotte stopped walking. She felt an ache where Sonja had slapped her. She touched her cheek. No. She had to teach Sonja a lesson. She ran ahead, hooked arms with Edgar, and raced up the hill. She did not look back . . . but she thought of Sonja standing alone where she had left her. Tears sprang to her eyes.
It could not be helped. It was time for Sonja to grow up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Ladybug
SONJA RAN THROUGH THE DARK MEADOW, LOST. HER SIGHT was bleary from crying. Had the bond between her and her sister been broken forever? A wingless silhouette approached. Charlotte had come back. The bond was unbreakable.
Sonja’s heart sank. “Oh, it’s you.”
“They made me come find you,” grumbled Wolf Boy. “By the way, you ruined my chances with that Tiffin girl. Thanks for that.”
Sonja’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care so much about a girl you’re never going to see again?”
Wolf Boy shrugged. “Animal instinct,” he said.
“What?”
“Never mind.” He paused for a moment. “How come you never laugh or smile or have any fun? You spend too much time rolling your eyes and complaining.”
“I have things on my mind. If you haven’t noticed, our mother was kidnapped.”
Wolf Boy nodded. “My mother threw me into a stinking orphanage. Better not to sulk about it, though.”
“You mask your sadness by clowning around. I read it in a magazine. One day you’re going to have some kind of a breakdown. Anyway, that’s what the article said.”
Wolf Boy frowned. “You really are uptight, aren’t you?”
“Are you kidding?” snapped Sonja. “I’m a musician! Artists are not uptight!”
“Some musician. You can’t even play a note.”
Sonja stopped in her tracks. All the strength went out of her body at once. She burst into tears and covered her face. Charlotte was the only person who truly knew her. She understood how sad she was at being abandoned. She understood how much music meant to her. She understood every dream and aspiration she ever had. They had been sole companions for twelve and a half years. Now she had nobody. Her voice grew very quiet. “I don’t really know who I am anymore.”
Wolf Boy stared at Sonja. He bit his lip, then gently said, “Nobody knows who they really are.” He pulled her hands off her face. “Look at me. Sometimes a boy, sometimes a wolf. Imagine how confusing that feels.”
Sonja wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve. “What’s it feel like to transform?”
“Sort of like changing expressions on your face from happy to sad.” Wolf thought or a moment. “I’ve got two versions of myself. Sometimes, I feel like being one; sometimes, I feel like being the other.”
Sonja nodded. “Kind of like being a twin. The only problem is the other version of myself has abandoned me.”
“They always come back in the end. You’ll see.” Wolf Boy hesitated. “Mind if I ask you something?”
Sonja shook her head.
“What’s wrong with your fingers? They’re always jiggling about.”
“It started when my Talent was stolen. I think they miss playing. I guess it’s sort of an expression of how I feel inside.”
They walked side by side into the Ancient Gardens. In the dark, the giant flowers were big creepy shadows. A breeze whistled through their leaves. Sonja grabbed at Wolf Boy’s fur cape and whispered, “What if one of those enormous ants attacks us?”
“Don’t worry,” he replied, laughing. “Remember, I eat insects.”
At that precise moment, a ladybug the size of a cat buzzed out of the grass.
Sonja shrieked. The insect flew toward her, flapping frantically. Wolf Boy jerked Sonja out of the way. “It’s only a ladybug!” he yelled.
The ladybug disappeared over the flower tops.
Wolf Boy’s arms tightened around Sonja’s waist. She looked up at him. His green eyes flashed. “You look nice when you’re not talking.”
“Is that a compliment?” Sonja asked, confused.
He touched the end of one of her curls. “Your hair. It’s sort of pretty. You should let it grow down to your feet like Alexandria.”
Sonja’s face turned bright red. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, pulling away. She felt her heart pounding against her ribs.
“Oh, well. Forget I said anything.” Wolf Boy trudged off into the meadow.
Sonja followed quietly behind, her mind whizzing. Maybe Wolf Boy did not completely hate her after all. She pulled out her pennywhistle and, stepping in Wolf Boy’s footprints, played some broken notes.
Tiffin silhouettes moved around inside the thin cloth tents. Stars twinkled on the surface of the pond. A family of frogs slept on a lily pad. Charlotte and Edgar were already sitting with the three Protectors. They all stood up when they saw Wolf Boy and Sonja.
Sonja looked at Charlotte sheepishly. Charlotte gave her a small smile, then turned away.
“These old bones need some rest,” Hester said, yawning. Mr. Fortune Teller escorted her to a nearby tent.
“By any chance did a Tiffin girl come looking for me?” Wolf Boy asked.
“She left a few minutes ago,” said Alexandria. “She didn’t seem too pleased.” She pointed to Moritz on the ground. He was snoring heavily. “Let’s move him.”
Wolf Boy reluctantly grabbed Moritz’s arms. “Edgar, we need your help. There’s a whole horse hidden inside this body.”
“Good night, your majesty.” Edgar kissed Charlotte’s hand. He smiled at Sonja. “I hope we’ll be friends.” Then he bowed and ran off to join the others.
Charlotte pressed her hand to her face. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
Sonja scoffed. She could not help herself. “You’re beginning to sound like Bea,” she said coolly.
Charlotte wheeled around, furious. “Just because we’re twins doesn’t mean I have to end up an old spinster like you. Living alone, talking to yourself, eating cat food from a can!”
“I’d rather be a spinster than make a fool of myself!”
Charlotte seized Sonja by her shoulders and shook her. Sonja’s cheeks flushed. Her lips curled. In a fit of rage, she bit one of Charlotte’s hands. Charlotte shrieked and shoved Sonja. Sonja’s eyes went black. She dove on top of Charlotte, and they fell to the ground, wrestling. They had never had a real fight before, an actual fistfight, and every little slight and hurt from all the years seemed to be coming out in their hits and kicks and slaps.
“Enough!” yelled Mr. Fortune Teller. He stood in front of them with his hands on his hips.
The twi
ns looked up. Alexandria, Wolf Boy, and Edgar were staring at them, shocked.
“This is no time to fight. We need to focus on finding Tatty.”
Charlotte looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry, Uncle Tell.”
“I’m sorry too,” mumbled Sonja.
“Good. It’s settled.”
Edgar started toward Charlotte. Mr. Fortune Teller blocked him with his cane. “You’ll see her in the morning.”
The twins stumbled to their feet. They were covered in scratches and bruises and marks. They limped up the steps of the caravan. Mr. Fortune Teller opened the door. The velvet curtains were drawn, and a candle flickered. A teapot sat on the desk, steaming from its spout.
“I made some wild-nettle tea to help you sleep. Here’s some ointment for your wounds.” He handed Sonja a little ceramic bowl, then started to chuckle. “Remind me where you two learned to throw punches like that.”
Sonja shrugged. “Seeing the clowns fight.”
“Well, now, you can make up like the clowns.”
“We don’t drink black gin,” said Charlotte.
“You know what I mean.”
The twins hugged awkwardly. Even though their bodies were pressed together, Sonja felt a barrier between them.
They put on their pajamas and got into bed. Mr. Fortune Teller gave them each a cup of tea. They sipped the hot, bitter drink.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Charlotte asked the old man.
Mr. Fortune Teller shook his head. “No time, my dears. I have too much to discuss with Alexandria.”
The twins set their cups aside and lay on their backs. They had not slept in two days. It felt good to be in a real bed, thought Sonja. She moved her feet around under the starchy sheets. They brushed against Charlotte’s. Charlotte awkwardly pulled hers away. Sonja pretended not to notice. She looked at the old man at the end of the bed and said, “Uncle Tell?”
“Yes, Sonja.”
“We met Crackus.”
“Ah, the hermit.”
“He heard Tatty through a tree.” Sonja touched the locket. “Tatty and our real mother.” She hesitated. “Who is she, Uncle Tell?”
“I wouldn’t want to say.”
“But you know?”
Mr. Fortune Teller nodded.
“You’ve known this whole time?”
He looked down at his fidgeting hands.
“I understand, Uncle Tell,” Sonja said softly. “It wasn’t your choice. Can you answer this at least? Do you think we’ll ever meet her?”
The old man sighed. “I hope so. One day.”
“I don’t want to,” interrupted Charlotte. “I just want Tatty back.”
“I want Tatty back, too,” said Sonja, “but aren’t you curious?”
Charlotte shook her head. “One mother’s enough.”
Mr. Fortune Teller patted the girls’ feet over the covers. “I have to go now. Alexandria will be waiting for me.”
“Do you really have to leave us again?” moaned Sonja. She would be stuck with Alexandria and the Changelings—and, even worse, Edgar and Charlotte.
“If I can persuade the Gillypurs to fight, we might have a better chance against Kats von Stralen and the Contessa.”
“I can’t wait for the day we have no more duties or worries,” sighed Charlotte.
“I’m afraid, my dear, that day may never come.” The old man stood up. “Now, time to sleep.” He kissed each girl on the forehead.
“Good night, Uncle Tell.”
“Good night, Charlotte.”
“Don’t forget to say goodbye before you leave,” said Sonja. She was so sleepy, it dulled her anxiety about Uncle Tell leaving. Out of habit, she went to take Charlotte’s hand, but Charlotte’s arms were crossed tightly across her chest. Sonja turned onto her side and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Dreaming
MOONLIGHT BEAMED INTO THE CARAVAN THROUGH THE little stained-glass window. Charlotte lay in bed, awake. Her head was spinning with anxious thoughts. She looked over at Sonja muttering in her sleep. She wished she had let her sister hold her hand. Then perhaps she would be asleep too.
A handful of pebbles pattered against the window. Maybe it was Edgar, she thought. Charlotte jumped out of bed, fumbled through the dark, and pushed open the window.
Cool air swept into the room. Edgar’s pale face appeared. His hair was rumpled, and his skin was damp and blotchy. He took Charlotte’s hand in his. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither,” said Charlotte. With her free hand, she pinched her cheeks for color.
“Run away with me,” Edgar said earnestly.
“What? Where? Now?”
He wrinkled his sweaty brow. “I need to leave the past behind. It might kill me.”
“What about the rescue mission?”
“The others can take care of that.”
Charlotte’s face tensed. What about Tatty? What about Sonja? Charlotte looked back over her shoulder at the little sleeping lump in bed. As much as she wanted her freedom, she knew leaving Sonja would break her heart.
“Don’t you see?” Edgar urged, squeezing her hand. “You and I, we’re the future.”
Charlotte turned to him with tears in her eyes and said in a whisper, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Edgar’s face flushed. He threw off her hand. “I knew you wouldn’t help me. It’s all going to end because of you!”
“I want to help you, Edgar,” Charlotte said, crying, “but she’s my mother. My mother! You’d want to save yours if you could, wouldn’t you?”
Edgar covered his face with his hands. He shook his head and groaned. After a moment, he looked up. His eyes were swollen and watery. In a low, trembling voice, he said, “You know, I haven’t been myself since my mother and father died. Please, forgive me.” He leaned into the room and kissed her cheek. “We’ll start our life together another time.” He gave her a sad sort of smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned away, and his wan figure disappeared into the night.
“Wait, Edgar!” Charlotte called after him, but he was gone. She closed the window. Tears streaked her face. Tatty always told her love had its ups and downs. Charlotte crawled back into bed, sniffling. She wiped her eyes on the sheet. She wanted to wake up Sonja and tell her what had happened, but she knew her sister would never understand.
Her accordion was on the floor beside her. She picked it up and strapped it over her shoulders. It was soothing to have the familiar instrument resting on her chest. She pushed the keys silently. Even without knowing how to play, she liked to feel the smooth buttons under her fingertips.
Charlotte’s limbs trembled with fatigue. She was exhausted. She remembered Tatty telling her that if she could not sleep, she should close her eyes and think pleasant thoughts. She put away the accordion and rested her head on the pillow. She thought of the rumbling wheels of their caravan, the clowns singing Gypsy songs, and the clicking sound Monkey made when he chewed.
Charlotte’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. Finally, she found herself alone in the middle of a desert outside an ancient temple carved into striated rock. The enormous sun filled the sky. It mirrored the red-orange landscape below. She ascended the sandy steps and passed through the open doors. Inside a vast hall, there were a hundred women assembled. Their faces were crisscrossed with paint, and their bare feet hovered above the ground.
They were Swifters. She was in the Lost Desert.
The Protectors floated to the middle of the room and held their hands over a crackling pit of fire. It smelled like burning spices and frankincense. Shadows flickered across the striped walls.
The three Swifters spoke in unison. “Don’t you know you’re one of us?”
Charlotte gulped. “What do you mean?”
The door slammed shut. A gust of wind spun through
the hall. It wrapped itself around Charlotte’s waist like a coil. She struggled to break free as it dragged her toward the three women. They spoke one after the other in shrill, crackling voices:
“Your father’s veins flow with Swifter blood.”
“From his mother and her mother before her.”
“You are a Swifter through and through.”
Charlotte shook her head, yelling, “I’m not a Swifter! I’m not a Swifter!”
The three women crouched over the fire, burbling and gurgling. The flames resembled people dancing in an ancient bacchanal.
“Soon, the truth will be revealed.”
“Soon, you will stand among us.”
“Soon, your power will surpass all!”
“Please, let me go,” begged Charlotte. “I need to get back to my sister. To Sonja.”
One of the Protectors rose higher than the rest. “She’s not like you. Her blood comes from her mother.”
“How’s that possible? We’re identical twins.”
The other two Protectors floated up to join their sister. In unison they roared: “Not in blood! Not in blood! Not in blood!”
Charlotte was sweating. She could hardly breathe. The wind pulled her closer to the fire pit. The chant of the surrounding Swifters grew louder.
“Stop! Please! I’ll burn!” screamed Charlotte. Everything went dark.
She opened her eyes and found herself in a room decorated with animal heads.
“A little bird told me you might pay a visit,” a voice hissed. The sentence slithered into Charlotte’s ear like a snake.
A woman wearing white gloves bedecked with diamonds sat in a cloud of smoke. Charlotte could not make out her face, but she knew it was the Contessa. She trembled all over and looked up and down the room for a way out.
“There’s only one exit,” sneered the Contessa. Her white glove pointed to an open window. Charlotte felt a pair of hands yank her off the floor. She whipped her head around, and to her surprise, it was Edgar. “Enjoy the ride!” he said, before pushing her out the window.
“Wait! Edgar!” She dropped, whooshing through the smog. “I want to help! I swear!” Faces whizzed past her as she fell: Tatty and Uncle Tell and Bea; Arthur and Alexandria and Staghart; Wolf Boy and Moritz and Ansel. “Help me!” she cried. The ground was coming up fast.