Always October (27 page)

She fell silent. I didn't want to rush her, but I was painfully aware of the passing time. “What did you do?” I asked at last.

Stroking LD's brow, she said softly, “Wanting to be close to my twin, I aligned myself with the monsters gathering around him … monsters who agreed with his growing conviction that Always October should separate itself from Humana and become a world unto itself.”

LD shook his rattle.

“In time, I fell in love with one of them—rebels do have their charms—and took him for my mate. A few years after that, I gave birth to Dum Pling.”

Meer Askanza snuggled LD closer and sniffed his head, just as I liked to do. Then she raised her eyes. Looking directly at me, the Queen of Sorrows said, “Having a baby changes everything, including how you view the world. Shortly after Dum Pling was born, my grandfather, Keegel Farzym, managed to get a message to me, asking me to meet with him and my mother. I missed them terribly, for I had not seen them since I'd joined Mazrak's band of plotters. So a few nights later I slipped away from our home to the place Grandfather had suggested for our meeting.”

She sighed heavily. “I soon wished I hadn't. Though our reunion was joyful, I could tell they were uneasy. When I pressed for the reason, they told me things I did not want to know and showed me things I did not want to see … things that convinced me that if Mazrak had his way, it would be the end of Always October.”

I noticed that Toozle had edged close to me. He was clinging to the tail of my flannel shirt, completely caught up in the story.

Meer Askanza closed her eyes. “They finally persuaded me that the only way to prevent this was for me to take Dum Pling to Humana and leave him as a link to bind the worlds.”

Toozle whimpered in sympathy.

“Couldn't
you
have been the link?” asked Jacob. “You're also part human.”

“Naturally I asked the same question! Alas, I am too old. If I had been brought to Humana when I was as young as Dum Pling, I would have assumed human shape, just as he did, and taken my monster form only once a month. But now that my body is long-settled and the Octobrian side dominates, I would not serve to hold the worlds together.”

I nodded, thinking how terrible this must have been for her.

“I wanted to stay in Humana with Dum Pling, of course, but …” She gestured at her face and body. “Though my mother can pass for human, I cannot. To remain in the human world would have meant remaining in perpetual hiding, living ever in fear of when the ‘monster' might be discovered.” She shuddered. “It's never pretty when humans discover a monster … or even someone they merely suspect of being a monster. My poor little Dum Pling would never have had a normal life with me, never had friends or playmates. We would never have been free of the need to hide, never been free of fear. I don't mean the fear of the dark and what might be hiding in it, but the darker fear of those who would fear us and, given the chance, destroy us because of that fear. With a human guardian he would have a chance for a normal life.

“I resisted the idea with all my heart. But as terrible as the thought of leaving my child was, even more terrible was the idea of having the world to which he was born dissolve around us. Where, then, would Dum Pling be?”

She looked down at the baby.

“This was a terrible thing to ask of a mother. But life sometimes forces us to monstrous choices, asks of us things far more fearful than the simple frights we all must endure.

“My decision was made even harder because I was not entirely convinced my grandfather and my mother were right. But what if the odds were only fifty-fifty? What if the chance was only one in ten that they were right? Should I gamble our entire world to keep my baby with me?” She sighed. “In truth, I
might
have bet the world. But I could not bet Dum Pling's safety. So I agreed to their plan, which was that I would bring my baby to the human world and leave him with my mother's old friend, Mrs. McSweeney.”

“How were you going to bring him to our world?” I asked.

“We decided to open a portal in the nearby cemetery, in the same place where my mother came through to Humana, where she wanted to meet Arthur Doolittle. Now, the easiest time to pass through the Tapestry is at the full moon—not when it's full here, since that is almost all the time, but when the moon is full in your world. Thinking it would be less expected, we chose the opposite time, the dark of the moon. Grandfather and Mother created the portal, and on the appointed night I slipped away from my home, babe in arms.”

Jacob spoke up. “If you were supposed to take him to Mrs. McSweeney, how did he end up at my house?”

Meer Askanza's expression soured. “Our plan was discovered. As I was about to pass through the portal, someone burst out of the woods in pursuit. Grandfather and Mother leaped to block him and managed to hold him off as I fled. I made it through but had no idea how many might be after me, how soon I might be caught.

“It seemed likely that if our plan had been discovered, my pursuers would know where I was intending to go. So I made a desperate decision. Instead of heading for McSweeney Monster-friend, I diverted to the home that had been my father's. I left the baby there and returned to the original route, expecting to be apprehended at any moment. Yet there was no pursuit. Even odder, when I tried to return to Always October, I found that the portal between the worlds had been sealed and I was trapped in Humana!”

Stomach clench! “Where, exactly, was this portal?” I asked uneasily.

“In one of the mausolea in the cemetery close to Jacob's house. They make natural entry points.”

“And, um, what would cause the portal to seal?”

“The touch of a human.”

My cheeks began to burn. “That was my fault! I went into the mausoleum that night. The wall was glowing …”

“That was the portal,” confirmed Meer Askanza.

“It was so beautiful I couldn't resist. I touched it. I'm so sorry!”

“No, no! It was a blessing! If the portal had not been sealed, Dum Pling and I might have been captured and dragged back to Always October. If that had happened, the Unravelers might have acted already by now. And who knows what horror might have flowed from that possibility.”

I smiled in relief. “I guess that explains the angry voices I heard from the other side!”

Meer Askanza nodded. “I'm sure it does. Of course, even though the sealing of the portal was a blessing, it also created a great problem … namely, how was I to return to Always October?”

“How
did
you get back?” asked Jacob.

“I sought shelter with Mrs. McSweeney. Her cat, Luna, carried me home.”

I burst into fresh tears. Meer Askanza looked at me oddly, but Jacob distracted her by saying, “I don't understand. I thought that when it came to crossing between worlds, Luna was a one-person cat.”

“I am a monster, not a person,” replied Meer Askanza, a bit tartly. “The rules are different. Though it broke my heart to leave my child, it was a relief to return home. However, the very moment I arrived in Always October, I felt a strange dizziness and began to … fade. When I became aware of myself again, I was on the Ivory Throne, the new Queen of Sorrows.”

Her voice broke. Sobbing, she clutched Little Dumpling to her chest. Suddenly she thrust the baby away from her and cried, “Now take him! Take him and return to your own world. If you do not, all I have done, all I have suffered, will be in vain. Take him and
go
!”

Little Dumpling wailed when Jake pulled him from his mother's arms. Standing next to my friend, I gazed down at the baby's furry face and thought how unfair it was that so much should depend on the poor little guy, who had no idea what was going on.

“Go!” urged Meer Askanza. “My brother will be following you, be sure of it. The sooner you depart, the safer Dum Pling—and both our worlds—will be.”

I went to Meer Askanza and gave her a hug.

As we started past her throne, she said, “One more thing. Once you exit the tunnel, you will be in Flenzbort's territory. The danger from her will be different from anything you have faced so far. Keep your wits about you. Expect the unexpected. Take nothing for granted. Accept no food or drink. Now go. Go!”

As we approached the far side of the Veil of Tears, LD cried out and reached back.

I heard a wail of despair from his mother.

I saw Jake hesitate, and knew I had to harden my own heart. Grabbing his arm, I said, “We have to go, Jacob!”

Together, we plunged into the mist.

L
ily and I did not speak for some time.

Toozle, too, was silent. Little Dumpling, however, was whimpering, and cuddled close in my arms. I kept rocking him, murmuring to him soothingly.

When we reached the end of the tunnel, we found ourselves on the upper rim of a small valley. It stretched below us, silvery in the moonlight. To our right a waterfall plummeted from somewhere above us down to a small lake. From the lake flowed a stream that meandered through the center of the valley. Other small streams flowed from the hills that formed the sides of the valley, joining the main stream so that it grew wider and wider, until it finally disappeared under the cliff that rose at the far side of the valley.

At the top of that steep rise of rock loomed our goal—Cliff House, home to the Library of Nightmares.

In the valley itself we saw only one building—a cottage located to the right of the spot where the stream disappeared below the cliff.

I took a deep breath. “Well, that must be the place,” I said.

We started down the hillside.

Flenzbort's “cottage” looked more like something out of a fairy tale than a monster movie. Its low walls were half covered with vines. Beds of flowers, pale in the moonlight, lined the flagstone path that led to the green door. Three chimneys broke through its thatched roof, as did the dormers that sprouted from several spots.

“That doesn't look good,” said Toozle.

“What do you mean?” protested Lily. “It's adorable.”

Toozle snorted. “In Always October any place look that nice probably some kind of trap.”

“Trap or not, we have to get that bracelet,” I said grimly. “Come on.”

We walked up to the door. I knocked. The door swung open on its own, revealing a room just as charming as the exterior. A cozy fire crackled in the big stone fireplace. All right, the flames were green and purple, which was a little disturbing. Even so, it felt wonderfully inviting, especially after all we had been through.

To our right stood a long wooden table, benches on either side. Behind the table a narrow stairway led up to the next floor. To our left four chairs were grouped around a moss-green rug. Beyond them a large loom held a partially finished weaving.

Directly in front of the fire, her back to us, a heavyset woman was drawing out yarn at a spinning wheel. A basket at her feet displayed a tuft of white fibers. A raven perched on her right shoulder. Another raven, this one walking back and forth on the mantelpiece, croaked, “Come in, come in! It's scary outside, but nice and warm in here. Or maybe it's warm outside and scary in here. I can never remember which way that goes.”

We stepped forward. The door swung shut behind us. The woman turned. Her features were definitely monstrous: greenish skin, a warty nose the size of a potato, and pointed ears topped with tufts of fur. Yet something about her round face and warm smile was oddly comforting, despite the fangs. I reminded myself that the Poets and Meer Askanza had seemed to think this was the most perilous stop on our journey and vowed to stay alert.

“Well, here you are! I'd been hoping you would make it soon.”

“You knew we were coming?” I asked.

Her smile held just a trace of smugness. “Not much goes on in Always October that I don't know about.”

“Oh, don't act so mysterious,” said a familiar voice from the basket at Flenzbort's feet. “You heard it all from me.”

With that, Luna—the tuft of white fibers had been the tip of her tail—climbed out of the basket and trotted over to join us.