Library Gate 3, page 10
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Petersen,” Thaddeus said amiably. He introduced himself as an friend of someone he knew her husband did business with. “I hate to call you at home, but I was a guest at your party last weekend and I really hit it off with your cousin, Alan. I forgot to ask him for his number, but I thought I’d call and see if he’d be interested in joining me for a drink tonight.”
“You… want to talk with Alan?” Mrs. Petersen asked. She sounded wary.
“Yes. He’s still staying with you, is he not? Again, I do apologize for calling you on your private line.”
“Oh, of course,” she said. “It’s no trouble at all. Let me see if I can find him…” there was some scuffling on the other end. Thaddeus imagined her walking around that gigantic house. Of course, she wouldn’t want to let him talk to Alan, but she wouldn’t want to risk angering one of her husband’s business acquaintances.
“Here he is,” She said. Before she could hand off the phone, Thaddeus said, “Congratulations on your son’s engagement, Mrs. Petersen. It’s obvious that they’re very much in love.”
“Thank you! That’s so sweet!” She said, no trace of shame or irony in her voice.
Seconds later, a familiar, trembling voice came on the line. “H-hello?” Alan said.
“Alan, it’s your old friend from the party. Remember how we bonded over our shared love of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles?” He lowered his voice. “You better play along, Alan, or they’ll find out what you told me. Then it’s back to the warehouse for you.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Oh, yes, of course I remember. You’ll have to forgive me. I had a little too much champagne that night.”
“Are they with you?” Thaddeus asked.
“Yes, my cousin is right here. She’s curious about the identity of my mystery friend.”
“Well, I thought we could meet for a drink tonight,” Thaddeus said loud enough for Mrs. Petersen to hear. “My treat, of course.”
“Oh, I really don’t know if I can make it. I believe I have a previous engagement tonight.”
“Oh, come now. After tonight I’m flying away on business. I’ll be out of the country for an entire month. Surely you can come out and share a drink with me.”
Thaddeus could hear whispering on the other end. Mrs. Petersen must be urging him to accept the invitation.
“Oh, tonight?” Alan said. “I was thinking it was tomorrow. Yes, I’m free tonight. When shall we meet?”
“No reason to bother yourself,” Thaddeus said. “I’m heading over to pick you up now.”
Thaddeus hung up his phone. Mason and Silvis were setting up the supplies for the detection charm. He had an hour, maybe two, to kill. He preferred not to be around for the magical goings-on, anyway.
Maybe he’d finally get some answers.
~~~
“Are you actively trying to ruin my life?” Alan said. He took a large gulp from the wine glass in front of him. “Oh, god, this wine is wretched.”
“If I knew your tastes were so fancy, I would have gone somewhere more high-class. I suppose your time with the Petersens has changed you.”
“You know what? Screw you.” Alan spat at him. “The first break I’ve had in nearly twenty-five years and you’re doing your damnedest to ruin it.”
“You’ve been in the warehouse for twenty-five years?”
Alan rolled his eyes. “They don’t let us out for good behavior, mate.” He drained his glass and held it up with raised eyebrows at the bartender. When he saw the look on Thaddeus’ face, he said, “Oh, come on. You’re going to get me thrown back into that hell-hole. The least you can do is buy me another drink.”
Thaddeus sighed and raised his own whiskey glass at the bartender.
Once their drinks had been refilled, Thaddeus said, “I need to know what you meant by what you said about my mother.”
“Oh, no,” the man said. “I’ve gotten myself into enough trouble as it is. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
He lifted the wine glass to his lips, but Thaddeus reached out and grabbed his wrist. “You will tell me,” he said, his voice low, scary. He let go after a few seconds and turned back to his glass. “First of all, how did you know my name?”
Alan sighed. “When you saw me in the compound, they were pulling me out. As you can imagine, they couldn’t give me to the Petersens in the condition I was in. They want people like the Petersens to believe that we’re being treated at least as well as their pets are.” He scoffed. “Rich people. Totally fine with profiting from the suffering of others as long as they don’t have to see it.”
“Go on.”
“Well, there was a bit of a fuss as they pulled me out. I heard the guards talking. They said you were there, and that you weren’t supposed to be. They kept saying, ‘he can’t be this far in.’ Got a terrible crick in my neck when I heard your name. The infamous Thaddeus Broker shows his face at the compound.” Alan snorted and took another sip of his wine.
“What do you mean, infamous?” Thaddeus asked.
Alan sighed. “Are you sure you want to hear this? You seem somehow okay with the career path you’ve chosen. Sure you want to jeopardize that peace of mind?”
“Just tell me.”
“You asked for it.” He paused. “What do you know about your mother?”
Thaddeus hadn’t thought about his mother in more than passing since he was in his teens, at least. She was dead. What was the point of dwelling on a woman he’d never known and never would? “She died soon after I was born. A wielder killed her. What else is there to know?”
“What proof do you have of that?” Alan said.
“What are you getting at?”
Alan sipped his wine. “She was brought into the compound before my time. She died before I was there, too. But that didn’t keep her story from spreading, cell-to-cell from the cracks in our walls and the slats in our doors. We make the time go by any way we can. She became something of a legend, a story we’d tell to keep each other’s hopes up.”
“She was brought where? What are you talking about?”
“She came in screaming the name of her child, telling anyone who knew who her son’s father was and that he’d be coming for her soon. Well, he never came for her.” He leaned in close, and Thaddeus could tell he was enjoying himself. “And you want to know what the name of the child she kept calling was? Yours. Thaddeus. That’s how I knew it was you. How many Thaddeuses do you think there are walking around nowadays? Not many.”
“You’re lying.”
Alan scoffed. “Lying would do me no good. And that’s not the end of it.” He took another drink.
“A kindly woman was in the cell next to mine when I was first brought in. She used to know your mom. She said that the last thing your mom ever did with her freedom was put a powerful protection spell on you. Magic like that’s usually attached to an object, but she cast it directly on you. It took a toll on her mind. All to protect you from the people you now serve.” Alan snorted. “I used to feel sorry for you, you know. The charms of a hedgewitch stand no match against the power the collectors have amassed. Then we started hearing your name in a different context: as the one who was putting us inside.”
“That makes no sense. If what you’re saying is true, why would the agency hire me? Why would Mason take me under his wing?”
Alan shrugged. “Where better to keep someone who has the power to hurt you then right under your control? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”
Alan nudged Thaddeus with his elbow. His face was ruddy, the wine starting to take effect.
Thaddeus flashed to the conversation where Mason had told him to offer the Pagewalker a job. Was that what he was doing? Trying to keep her under his thumb?
He stood, throwing some money on the bar. “That’s for the tab, and cab fare home.”
“Hey, you wanted to know.” Alan scooped up the money and motioned to the bartender for another. Thaddeus fled the bar. What a waste of time. He should be back at the library helping Mason complete his father’s work.
It couldn’t be true. Could it?
Chapter Fifteen
“They can’t leave us in here indefinitely.” Dorian said. “If the gate closes at five and we’re still here…” he trailed off. Everyone knew what he meant.
With no other options, they’d returned to the distillery. They again sat in the Collins’ sitting room, a flight of spirits almost untouched in front of them.
“Are we sure that’s the case, though?” April said. “I mean, we’re in the same universe—book, if you will—just several decades in the past. Does it still create an imbalance?”
Dorian shrugged. “It’s possible, but the collectors won’t risk it. We shouldn’t, either. When they come to get us, we should be there.”
April nodded. “You’re right.”
Junior stood. “So we wait for them to come, and then fight them.”
April shook her head. “No. They’ll be expecting that. They’ll have all their guns trained on the gate. We won’t stand a chance.”
“So we get more firepower ourselves,” Junior said. “We don’t have any other options.”
“He’s right,” Michael said. “The time differential between this world and yours gives us some time to prepare. We’ll be ready.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” April said. “This isn’t your fight.”
“Like I said: us gatekeepers got to stick together.”
Junior stood. “I’ll go check our weapons stores.”
“Like guns?” Randall asked.
Michael grinned. “Better. Magic.” His smile faltered slightly. “There isn’t much left. The collectors take whatever they can get their hands on, and there aren’t many alchemists left to make new objects.” He stood as well. “I’ll be in the cellar. Maybe the gate has something to say on the subject. Come on, Junior.”
Once the Collins had left, April turned to Randall and Dorian. “I don’t like this.”
“What else can we do?” Dorian said. “Just let them take the threshold? They may already have it in their grubby little clutches.”
April struggled to explain. “It feels… wrong.”
Dorian looked away. “April, I say this as kindly as I can muster, believe me. But your intuitions thus far have proven incorrect.”
Randall looked her in the eye. “He’s right, April. Our best chance is to fight.”
“They’ll expect that,” April said. “It will be a slaughter.”
Rex whined, and she patted him on the head. Poor dog. He didn’t deserve this.
“Unless you can come up with another plan, I don’t see what else we can do.” Dorian stood. “I’m going to see if I can help Junior.” He rose and walked away.
“He’s right,” Randall said, and followed him.
April sighed. How could she make them see that this was a terrible idea? She walked downstairs to where Michael said he’d be. She was keen to learn more about the gate. She’d just have to be careful not to let on that it was the same one.
She found the false wall in front of the gate open, but Michael was nowhere to be found. The gate shimmered with its own dim light. Curious, April approached it. Now that she was seeing it in its full power, it was obvious that the gate in the library was very damaged.
This filled her with deep sadness. The gate, she was coming to realize, was sentient, conscious in a broader way than her puny human brain could fathom. It called out to her, and she reached inside, wanting to feel the mist pass through her fingers. As she did, she was struck by a sense of deep loneliness—not hers, but the gate’s. All the other gates were gone; it was the only one left. She could tell that it knew who she was, and what was going to happen to it…
“What are you doing?”
April pulled away. There was a faint glow to her skin where she’d reached her hand through the veil.
“Nothing,” she said. “I was just taking a closer look. I’ve never seen a gate that was fully operational before.” She realized what this revealed. “At least not this close up.”
If he noticed her slip, he didn’t show it. “It is something, isn’t it?” he said.
“It sure is.” She paused. “Do you really think that we have a chance in this fight?”
He took a moment to answer. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”
“No.”
“Well, then why are you asking for?”
She sighed, staring up at the gate. There had to be another way.
He paused for a moment before speaking again. “Now I’m going to tell you something. When I walked over here, you were practically glowing. The gate spoke to you, didn’t it?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes, kind of. It wasn’t talking, exactly.”
“But it was communicating with you.” He nodded, as though he’d suspected this all along. “All gatekeepers experience it, though it takes them a while to become attuned with their gate.”
“Their gate?” April asked.
“Yes. It happens only with the gate they’re bonded with. I couldn’t hear your gate, and you couldn’t hear mine. Unless, of course they were one and the same.”
Her stomach dropped. “I mean…”
Michael shook his head. “Please, no more lies. Not to me. I know your intentions are good, but…” he trailed off, looking up at the gate sadly. “Is she in bad shape?” he asked.
April thought about the ink rot, about the hissing sound every time the gate was opened. “I wouldn’t have known the difference before, but after seeing how she’s supposed to be… she’s not doing well.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Over sixty years and we’re still fighting the same battle. Is it worth it?”
She thought for a moment. “I think so.”
“You’ve only been in this for so long,” he said, smiling ruefully. “Let’s talk again when you’re my age.” He looked away. “When does it happen? Wait—don’t tell me. It’s better if I don’t know.” He looked down at his feet. “Do they get my son? Does Junior get hurt?”
“I honestly don’t know.” April said. She wondered if the documents Thaddeus had brought held the answer. Then she wondered if any of the information it contained was true at all. Probably the folder was empty, a prop.
Michael nodded. “Don’t tell Junior. I don’t want him to know.”
April nodded, glad she wouldn’t have to tell anyone else.
Footsteps echoed down the stairs. When April looked up, Dorian stood behind her.
“I’m going to check on Junior,” Michael said, and he walked back up the stairs.
“Where’s Randall?” April asked Dorian once Michael’s footsteps had faded away.
“He’s taking Rex out for a walk behind the distillery.”
“Possibly the smartest dog in the world and he still has to pee.” April shrugged. She looked up at Dorian. “Do you think this will work?”
“We have to try.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” April said. “I keep asking everyone, and no one can tell me yes. So why are we doing it?”
Dorian looked away without answering.
April sighed. “I’m going to find Randall.”
She started to walk out in the direction that Michael had come from when Dorian called, “Wait.”
April turned back, surprised by the strain in his voice. Whatever he was about to say wasn’t something that came easily to him.
“What is it?” She said, dreading the answer. What else could have gone wrong?
“What the genie said…”
She waved her hand to silence him. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have brought it up. He was just trying to get under my skin.”
“No,” Dorian said. “I mean, yes, he probably was. What I’m trying to say is, he wasn’t… wrong.”
All the air seemed to rush out of the room, and everything seemed suddenly silent.
“He wasn’t?”
Dorian shook his head. “No.”
“Oh,” she said when the meaning of his words sunk in, and then because she couldn’t think of anything else, she repeated it. “Oh.”
April stared at Dorian. What should she say? Dorian was jealous of the genie… did that mean he had feelings for her? She’d found Dorian attractive since the moment she’d met him, but who wouldn’t? And he was always there for her, even if he was overbearing to the point of annoyance at times… but wasn’t that just because he cared?
Dorian sensed her overload. He grasped her hands, as he sometimes did. Before the gesture had always seemed brotherly, but now she didn’t know how to feel about it. “Listen. You don’t have to do anything, alright? You don’t even have to say anything. I just… couldn’t bear you not knowing, in case…” he trailed off. “Well, this might be the last time we have a moment in private.”
Despite his insistence that she didn’t need to talk, she opened her mouth. Still, no words came out.
“Is everything all right?”
They looked back to see Randall and Rex standing at the bottom of the staircase.
“Yes!” April said, pulling her hands out of Dorian’s grasp. He let them slip away. She was glad Randall had shown up—it gave her time to think about what Dorian had said. Or more accurately, not think about it. “We were discussing our options.”
“Do we have options?” Randall asked, to April’s relief. He’d glanced between her and Dorian, obviously sensing something had happened. Luckily, he didn’t bring it up.
Dorian shook his head. “Not really, no.”
She looked up at the gate. “There has to be another way.” She said. “Funny thing is, we’re in the same book—world, I mean. Just in the past.”
“Yeah,” Randall said. “If only we had a time machine.”
April was about to reply sarcastically, but then she stopped. An idea sparking in her brain. “Time machine?”
“What is it?” Randall asked, sensing the change in her mood.
“I have an idea,” she said. “How far away is the public library?”
~~~
April put the book down on the table in front of everyone.
