Library Gate 3, page 7
April looked at all of them. “What do I do?” she asked.
Dorian crossed his arms. “You tell us. You’re in charge here, after all.”
She winced. She deserved the barb. “Let’s let him in.”
Dorian accompanied April downstairs. Randall and Rex stayed upstairs.
Thaddeus looked mildly annoyed. “You go through all this trouble of inviting me here,” he said, “and then you leave me freezing on the doorstep. I almost went home. I thought you’d finally wised up and were going to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” April said, indignation rising in her chest.
Thaddeus raised his hand to quell the outburst. “Obviously I believe that, or I wouldn’t have come,” he said. He eyed Dorian suspiciously. “It’s your comrades I don’t trust.”
“None of my friends would hurt you.”
“Not with you in command, I’m sure. They listen to you.”
“They wouldn’t touch you even if I wasn’t here,” April said, but Dorian looked away.
Thad smiled. “I guess you haven’t got around to reading his book yet. He’s all about murder and debauchery.” He paused. “That’s right—the agency has access to your library borrowing history. Doing a little research for your job as Pagewalker? Unless you recently enrolled in a tenth-grade Literature class.”
April’s cheeks grew hot.
“April, it’s not too late,” Dorian said, his eyes flashing. “We can still kick him out.”
April faltered. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Thaddeus had barely walked in the door and already he was clashing with everyone.
Thaddeus shrugged. “Whatever you decide. You invited me here, remember. I didn’t ask for this.”
April and Dorian shared a look. His response was perfect. If he had begged them to reconsider and let them in, or was chastised whatsoever by Dorian’s threat, then that would mean he had a motive… then again…
“You saved us at the mall,” April said. “You must have had a pretty good reason for doing that.”
“I never said that was me,” Thaddeus said. The corner of his eye twitched. “For all you know, I’m simply here taking advantage of your invitation.”
“Sure,” she said. She’d pry more later. Now wasn’t the time. “Let’s head upstairs.”
Randall appeared calm when they entered the Werner Room, but his eyes never left Thaddeus. He seemed to be analyzing his movements, waiting for him to slip up and reveal his true motives.
Being raised by Gram, April felt the need to introduce everyone. “You already know Dorian,” she said, “And this is Randall.”
Randall stepped forward and extended his hand to Thaddeus, who took it. As he did, he said, “Corporal Washington—thank you for your service. I was in the military myself. And who’s this?” Thaddeus bent down and scratched Rex’s ears. To everyone’s surprise, Rex whimpered happily.
“Name’s Rex,” Randall said. His voice softened slightly, confused at Thaddeus petting his dog, and maybe even more at the fact that Rex was wagging his tail and trying to lick Thaddeus’ face.
“I’ve always liked dogs,” Thaddeus said, then raised an eyebrow at their surprised expressions. “What? Who doesn’t?”
“One of your men shot him,” Randall said, only the slightest tremor in his voice.
“For which I’m truly sorry. But I can’t fault the agent who fired the bullet when your dog was coming at him teeth first.”
Randall nodded. “I’ve only seen him do that one other time. In Afghanistan Rex attacked a man on the street. He tore him up real good. I thought I was going to have to put him down—can’t have dogs attacking civilians—until they found the machine gun hidden behind the man’s back.”
“Dogs can often sense much more than we can. I’m glad April’s cleverness with the genie restored him to good health. There’s a silver lining to every cloud.” Thaddeus said. He gave Rex one final pat on the head and stood. “Right. So what can I do for you all?”
April crossed her arms. “I want to know why you saved me and my grandmother.”
“Assuming it was you,” Dorian muttered.
Thaddeus ignored Dorian and looked at her levelly. For a second, she thought that he would deny it again. Instead, he said, “I’ve always had differences with my superiors about what measures are acceptable in pursuing the mission. There are certain lines I’d rather not cross, if I can help it.”
“Like targeting old women with cancer?” April asked.
Thaddeus shrugged. “The agency’s mission is to protect the people of this world from the havoc that magic wreaks. If we are the ones wreaking havoc, what’s the point?”
“No offense,” Randall said, “But every soldier feels bad about killing people and doing what’s necessary. Comes with the job. It doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
Thaddeus thought about that for a moment. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“The right thing?” Dorian said. “You’re worried about killing innocents? What about the scores of wizards and witches you’ve killed? The holocaust you’ve raged against the otherkin?”
“Innocent?” Thaddeus said. “They’re dangerous! You’d know that if magic was still allowed to roam free. All that’s left is fairy stories, and you should thank the agency for your naivete. You remember your Merlins, your Flamels and your Nostradamuses. But trust me, their kind did more damage than the agency has ever done in all of its existence.”
“Enough evangelizing,” Dorian said. Everyone fell into a fragile silence.
“What can you tell us?” April said. “You must have come here for a reason.”
Thaddeus looked at April. “The agency will keep coming after you and your grandmother, with or without my help. They’ve made that abundantly clear. If you remain unmoved afterwards, they will continue to target everyone you care about.”
April nodded. She’d known this much already. “What can we do to stop them?”
Thaddeus looked at her levelly. “Nothing. Not really.” He paused. “They have vast resources.” His eyes darkened for a moment, then he shook his head. “Headquarters in every major metropolitan area around the world. Even if you defeated them now, they’ll simply come after you later with more firepower. You don’t have the resources to deal with the constant onslaught.”
April swallowed. A slow, low-burning anger was filling her. Her eyes prickled with tears, and she blinked them back. Was there no way to protect Gram? “Then why did you even come?” she asked.
“I can give you information that might level the playing field,” he said. “You cannot hope to defeat them, so you must find an alternate solution.”
“What information?” Randall asked.
“How much do you all know about this gate that you protect so dearly?” Thaddeus asked.
They glanced between themselves, all thinking the same thing: they shouldn’t tell him too much, lest they give him information he didn’t already have. Did he know about the ink rot, for example? It was best to not say anything.
Thaddeus looked amused by their silence. “Each agent specializes in a different area of magic. Some go after witches and wizards, others after certain types of magical objects. My father led the unit that specialized in these gates. It was an honorable post. To truly eradicate magic from this world, we not only have to get rid of the gates—which are sources of vast power on their own—but we have to stop the possible flow of magic from other worlds to this one.”
“But it’s dangerous to bring things back through the veil,” April said.
“That’s only because this portal closes every night. You can bring things over as long as the portal is active, right? Well, fully functioning portals are always active. Oswald Werner was a very clever man. My father succeeded in deactivating this portal once, but he didn’t know what the threshold was. Werner was able to find it and partially restore it several years later. If he’d managed to restore it fully, you could take all the magic from any world and transport it here without repercussions.”
“It would also be infinitely more difficult to hide from the library-going public. What’s the point, Thaddeus?” Dorian said.
“The point is that I’m probably the most knowledgeable person in the world about these gates. I can give you valuable information.”
“Like?”
“Like the number of gates there were, their approximate locations, the names of the wizards who served as gatekeepers, what forms the thresholds took…”
“Thresholds?” April asked. This was the second time he’d mentioned the word.
“Yes, thresholds. The portals aren’t bound to points in geography; rather, they’re linked to objects. The portal goes wherever the threshold goes.”
April glanced back at the middle window on the east wall. “So the gate doesn’t exist on its own?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Where did the thresholds come from?”
Thaddeus shrugged. “We don’t know for sure. The grimoires and journals that the agency has confiscated show that some wizards believe that the gates—thin spots between worlds—drifted around, never in one place for very long. But that eventually the magic fused to different objects, either by natural means, or at the hands of wielders.”
“What do these objects look like?” April asked.
“Each is different. Some are large—so large they can’t be moved. Mountains, boulders; those kinds of things. Those are the ones that we believe formed on their own, without human influence. Others are smaller, everyday objects. Some are so small they can fit in your pocket.”
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
“Do you know what the threshold is for this gate?”
Thaddeus shook his head. “If I did, I would have taken it that night you went back on your word. We were trying to locate it when you barged in. Do you know what it is?”
April glanced at Dorian. From the look on his face, he had no clue.
“I see,” Thaddeus said.
April decided to address the question of what the threshold was later. “What else can you tell us about the history of this particular gate?”
“For one, it wasn’t always linked to books in the way it is now. You would need keys for different worlds if you wanted to use it.”
April resisted the urge to proclaim that she already knew this fact at least. “Go on.”
“It was Werner himself who linked it to the books. We have all the keys in our custody, you see. The gate had been dormant for some time when he found it. The old wizard who served as its gatekeeper managed to hide it, though he perished in the process. One of my father’s few failures.”
“You have all the keys?” Randall asked. “I thought you destroyed all the magical items you find, unless they’re useful to you. I don’t see what use the keys would serve.”
Thaddeus’ eyebrows raised for only a second before his face again returned to an unreadable mask. “Of course. I misspoke.”
Dorian snorted, and to April’s surprise Thaddeus didn’t engage with him.
“Where was this gate before Werner got ahold of it?” April asked. “Was it always here at the library?”
Thaddeus shrugged. “It’s always been in the Minneapolis area. It wasn’t at this location, though.”
“Okay,” April said. So that meant that the threshold was small enough to be portable. She resisted the urge to glance around the room. What could it be? A book?
“It was once in the care of a wizard named Michael Collins. He was the last wizard to serve as a gatekeeper. Unless you count yourself and the Jackson woman. And Werner himself, I suppose, though his role was more catalystic than anything else.”
April thought about that. “What should we do?”
“If you’re asking for my opinion, I think you should try to figure out what the threshold is. If you know that, you’ll be one step ahead of the agency. It’s easier to protect a small object than an entire building. You could even move it if you wanted, make it difficult for them to find you.”
April bit her lip. This was good information, but… “How will this help us protect Gram? If anything, this will just make them need to target her more.”
“I’m getting to that. Some members of the agency believe magic could be siphoned from the threshold and used to power spells.”
“Barty could use it to put a stronger protection spell on my house!”
Thaddeus nodded. “Precisely.”
April felt her hope dampen. “But how do we figure out what the threshold is?”
“That’s up to you.”
April glanced at Randall and Dorian. She turned back to Thaddeus. “Thank you. The three of us should talk this over now. In private.”
Thaddeus stood. “Of course. Let me know if I can be of further help.”
April thought for a moment. “You said that you have the locations of all the gates, and the names of their gatekeepers. Do you think you can get us a copy of that information?”
Thaddeus thought for a moment. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll do my best.” He donned his coat and then turned towards them. “I will be in touch.” He dipped his head in farewell, and then walked down the stairwell. They didn’t start talking until they saw his form receding into the distance.
“I think we got some good information.” April said.
“We know more now than before, that’s for sure,” Randall said. “Assuming he’s telling the truth. Now the question is, what do we do with that information?”
“I think we need to do what he said—figure out what the threshold is so we can protect it,” April said.
“How?” Dorian said. “Mae and I may not have known the term threshold, but we weren’t stupid. Obviously, something is causing the gate, and we spent years searching for it, and never found anything. What makes you think we can find it now?”
April thought for a moment. She decided to ask a question she’d been wondering about for a while. “There’s nonfiction books in the Werner Collection. Why haven’t we had to clean up ink rot in any of them?”
Dorian shrugged. “Mae hypothesized that it’s because they lead into your world. The ink rot doesn’t affect your world.”
“Have you ever gone into one of them?” April asked.
Dorian shook his head. “With no ink rot to clear up, there was no need to.”
“Thaddeus said that this gate has always been in Minneapolis, right? Why not go back and ask the last gatekeeper?” she said.
“How?” Dorian said.
She stood and walked towards the bookshelves, to the few nonfiction books in the collection. Amongst the travel guides and a worn copy of Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, she found the series of Minneapolis censuses. She brought one back and held it up for the others to see.
“Mae theorized that the reason the nonfiction books don’t get ink rot is because it’s the same world, right? Well, wouldn’t that make entering this book the same as time travel?”
Randall’s eyes brightened. “I think she may be on to something.”
April went on, encouraged by the comment. “Thaddeus said that his father was the one who damaged this gate. It couldn’t have been much further back than the forties.”
Dorian looked incredulous. “So you literally want to ask Michael Collins?”
“Well, yeah. What do you think?” Why did anxiety well within her? She knew it was a good idea. Why did she strive for his approval?
“It’s a strange plan,” Dorian said. “There’s a lot that could go wrong. Let’s not get into the possibilities of breaking the space-time continuum. But it’s worth a shot, if it gives us an edge against the collectors.”
“It’s settled, then.” She glanced at her watch. “I better get home to Gram. We’ll do it tomorrow night.”
Chapter Twelve
April stared at the phone at the reference desk again. She’d been waiting for Thaddeus to call all day. She couldn’t wait anymore. She lifted the receiver and dialed.
“I’m starting to get the impression that you like me, Ms. Walker,” he said. She wondered how he’d known it was her.
“Hello, Thaddeus.”
“I haven’t been able to procure the documents you asked for, if that’s why you’re calling.”
“I know. I mean, of course not,” she said. “I wanted to ask if you knew the date your father partially closed the gate.”
“Of course,” Thaddeus said. “It was in July of nineteen forty-six.”
So she had been right about the time frame.
“Why?” he asked, sounding suspicious.
“I think I have a way to figure out what the threshold is,” she said. She told him about the census records.
“That is… nearly ingenious.” He sounded impressed.
“So you think it will work?”
He clicked his tongue. “A lot of things have to fall in place,” he said. “But… it’s possible. It could work. Do you want me to come tonight?”
April paused before answering. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“As you wish. I just thought you might find my knowledge helpful.”
“Of course,” she said, “But the others aren’t convinced that you’re here to help.”
“I understand. I’ll stop by when I have the documents you asked for. Goodbye, Ms. Walker.”
“Goodbye.”
She hung up and looked at Randall, who was leaning against the reference desk. Raoul was keeping an eye on the house, leaving Randall free.
“Well?” he asked.
“He said the gate was decommissioned in July of 1946. He thinks my plan could work.”
Randall nodded, biting his lip. April knew he had his doubts about Thaddeus. She couldn’t blame him.
“Do you think I’m making the wrong choice?” she asked.
Randall shrugged. “You’re making a calculated risk. I just hoped you’ve weighed the potential downsides.”
She nodded. “I did.”
“Glad to hear it.” He stood. “I’m going to go check on Becky and the others.”
She watched him leave via the stairwell, then turned to the phone. She had one more call to make before close.
