The Escapist (20 page)

Edmund clawed at his own eyes, stunned for now, but he would not be distracted for long.  With the precious few seconds he had bought himself, Oscar made a dash for the gate.  Tapie was still not there, but faced with the alternative of staying in the Institute Oscar knew he had no choice.  He would be lucky if the matrons got to him first, for Edmund would not miss a second time.

Steadying his nerves, he reached into the pocket and pulled out the hair pin pick and the metal tension rod.  He had just moments to get it right and frantically began using the pick to push the lock pins with as much control as he could muster. 

“Who’s out there?” A matron’s voice from overhead broke his concentration and the pins reset.  He could hear Edmund behind him slowly getting to his feet, grunting in pain and frustration.

“I'm gonna get you now, Ossscar.” The boy hissed, already closing in.  ‘Click’.  Relief flooded through Oscar -it was unlocked.  In one flowing movement he unlatched the gate and stepped through, slamming it closed behind him.  Just in time!  An arm shot between the railings clawing at the air.  He could see Edmund’s face coated in dirt moistened from tears, his mouth wide with teeth viciously poised.  Quickly ducking another flailing arm, Oscar reached forward, rapidly relocking the gate.  His heart pumping, he turned and sprinted into the fields beyond. 

He did not look back, not even for a second.  With every step the noise of the commotion behind faded and so a confidence slowly began to grow inside of him.  He could not relent to the tiring in his limbs as the matrons would have sounded the alarm.  The wardens would soon be after him.  So with every cell, every fibre of muscle, tendon and ligament he kept on going.  So intent was his focus, in fact, that he failed to notice the black blur in the tree line.  Running as he was at full pelt, it came upon him so suddenly he could not avoid it.  He crashed into the murmuring figure, throwing them both forward so that they tumbled over one another in a tangle of muddied material..

“Tapie, oh Tapie.  I'm so glad to see you.” Oscar said between breaths, the initial shock turning into blessed relief.

In what was growing to become a characteristic manner, the young woman twitched her head to displace the mental fog.

“Oh, Oscar.  Sorry I did not meet you sooner.  I found myself waking up only to be in a completely different location.  It appears you have escaped though.”

“We can’t linger for long Tapie”  Oscar said urgently.  “The matrons saw me leave and will have raised the alarm.  The wardens could be onto us any minute.  We must get back to Etiainheim quickly!”

“It’s not that easy, Oscar.  We must hide - for now at least.”  Twitch.  Tapie shook her head again. “Follow me”

The wild woman led the way stumbling into the dark woodland, the boy following her haphazard path.  As they entered the shelter of the trees she became somewhat calmer, perhaps feeling more at home.  Oscar still caught snippets of her ramblings as he followed: more about the orbs.  After a moment Tapie turned to him, gesturing towards an empty patch of woodland:

“Aren’t they beautiful?  So good to be back”

Given the lack of anything to be seen, Oscar could only suppose Tapie actually thought herself in Etiainheim once more.  Fortunately, the apparent lucidity that came with this belief worked in his favour.  Despite not really seeing their surroundings Tapie now seemed to know where she was going and was calm enough to have a conversation once more.  Oscar seized the opportunity to voice his concerns, explaining to Tapie what had happened when he was last in Etiainheim and his worries for Vergil.

“Do not be troubled too much for Vergil.” Tapie replied dreamily.  “It is very difficult for another soul to kill a mind in
Etiainheim, and besides it is hard for any creature to pass twice.” 

Oscar glanced at her in confusion, but before he could pick her up on this comment, Tapie continued, more clearly this time. 

“The bigger worry is where Edmund is leading the children’s Itse, for they will have travelled far now in Etiainheim.  My guess would be that he is taking them toward a place sufficiently foul enough to corrupt them, somewhere so entrenched in misery that he will be stronger and able to fully turn them.”

Oscar listened with concern.  He hardly thought Edmund needed to be stronger.  After all, Oscar had never stood a chance in their previous fight thanks to the blinding images.  After a moment he queried this with Tapie.

“Tapie.  When I fought Edmund before, whenever we touched I think I could see his memories.  It was things that had happened in my world but everything was so sad and despairing.”

“Yes, I’m not surprised.  Vergil and I have commented on this occurrence in the past.  Sometimes, Itse, especially unstable ones, can leak memories or feelings.  It is certainly a strange sensation at first but with time you can guard against it happening.”

“I hope so.  It was frightening, and…strange.  There was one figure which kept on coming back; a shadowed silhouette with glaring bright eyes.  You know, I don't think it was his mind's memory.  It was like no one I’ve ever seen before.  Could it be from Etiainheim, have you seen any Itse like that in your world?”

The woman stopped and turned to the boy, looking worried. 

“I know of what you speak.  I believe it is another Maere, but not an ordinary one, Oscar.  It is one that has festered for a long, long time.  Some know them as the Kurjus – the shadow stalkers - and over time Edmund’s Maere will darken further until he becomes one.  They are Maere who are so detached from anything but despair, they have no other form than a shadowed figure.”

“A long time ago when I was younger, just a girl, I saw such a being.  It had strayed toward the town of my birth and other Itse fled from its very presence.  I could not leave but wished I had not stayed, helpless as I was.  I watched as it easily consumed weak and unwitting souls, leaving smaller Maere in its wake; each to inflict a lifetime of cumulative damages.”  Tapie looked seriously at Oscar once more, before her head lolled to one side and she returned to her murmuring.

“Tapie…” Oscar began, somehow managing to regain the woman’s attention.  “…are there many of them?”

“What?  Yes.  Their numbers have increased slowly over the years, but fortunately they seldom stray into the towns.  Vergil has encountered many himself.  But then, he does tend to seek out the challenge.”

They continued wordlessly through the forest for a while, until they reached a tall single oak tree on top of a cleared mound.  Leaping forward, the crazy woman twitched and held her arms outstretched,.

“Welcome, to my humble abode!
” she managed, before drifting back once again to her mentally unstable alter ego.

Underneath the shelter of a mighty branch was a makeshift campsite, the kind of habitat that was to be expected of a homeless person if it were not for the obscure potted plants that lined the boundary.  Piles of old rubbish and recycled metal parts were strewn across the grounds, possibly highly prized items to the real-world Tapie.  Surprisingly, Oscar saw that a tarp had been hung from the branch overhead to provide a waterproof shelter and also that an old copper kettle sat on a heap of embers in the centre.  Quite resourceful for someone whose mind seldom graced their physical reality, Oscar thought with a wry smile. 

The crazy woman pottered about gathering up belongs and tidying the place haphazardly as though making the grounds suitable for guests, all the while running an extraordinary conversation with herself.  For Oscar it was incredible that Tapie had managed to live as long as she had.  Her frugal existence was more of a tribute to her survival than it was a discredit to her person.

The embers of the campfire glowed a little but not enough to give away their location to any searching eyes.  Climbing up to the first branch of the tree, Oscar could see over most of the forest and back towards the Institute.   Specks of light lit up the darkened outline of the grounds, showing that the matrons were still up.  At that moment there came the gentle, distant hum of an electrocart, accompanied by two white beams of light scanning the ground ahead.  Signalling the arrival of the wardens on the scene.  The men would soon be searching for them and Oscar just hoped that Tapie had chosen a secluded enough spot for her residence.  The boy jumped back down from the branch, instilled with a new sense of urgency.

“Tapie, I can’t wait for long or they will find me.  How do I get back?”

“Yes, Yes.  Sorry Oscar.  It is hard for me to keep track.”  Twitching once again, Tapie walked over to the stove and picked up the kettle, using a cloth as protection from the heat.

“I am not as well versed as Vergil with treading between realms, so try to hold your expectations.  But I have given this some thought and hopefully it should work.” The woman jerked spasmodically, before pouring out the contents of the kettle into a wooden cup.

“Valerian.  It will give you very,
very
, deep dreams, hopefully deep enough that your mind might touch Etiainheim.  If it does, well, I will attempt to pull you through from the other side.”  She looked at Oscar hopefully and pressed the steaming cup into his hands.  The mixture within consisted only of murky water with green wilted leaves swirling about on the surface.  Yet as Oscar lifted the cup towards his face the aroma was strong and woody and as he inhaled it his head felt light.

“Strong eh?” he said nervously to Tapie, who only twitched and looked blankly on.  With the conviction of a person who has little or no alternative, the boy took a long gulp of the hot liquid, coughing as the vapours filled his sinus.

“Do not drink too much!  You might become permanently comatose.”  Tapie exclaimed, but the words rang hollow in Oscar's ears as though from across a great distance.  Crumpling gently against the oak trunk, Oscar’s hand released the cup to spill across the ground.  Within minutes the desired effect was achieved.  The boy resided deep in an unnatural slumber and all the while, the crazy woman continued to tidy up in the background.

Chapter 18

Awaking to a lush soft ground beneath him and the rich, exotic aromas of Etiainheim, Oscar realised with relief that Tapie must have succeeded in bringing him back.  Amid the darkness the swirling cosmos shone in all its grandeur and Oscar granted himself a short moment of reflection.  He could no longer feel any trace of the Valerian in his system, in fact he felt remarkably refreshed.  But then he supposed this should not come as any surprise since it was his mind that resided in Etiainheim, not his body.

Springing lightly to his feet, Oscar looked around for Tapie.  Much to his surprise, the woman was on her hands and knees, panting as though on the verge of exhaustion.

“Are you okay, Tapie?  You look terrible.  What happened?”

“That was much harder than I anticipated.
” she gasped between breaths. “It has taken me the best part of the night to succeed.” she exhaled forcefully, before sweeping back her hair and looking to Oscar, who could only remember blurry fragments of a dream. 

“You dipped in and out in fleeting moments.  When I finally reached you  – well- it wasn't easy.  We were very close to the edge: if you hadn’t gained a full purchase on this world in time, who knows what would have happened.  But then I suppose you wouldn’t have been in a fit state to know.”  Tapie drew a long breath and stood up.  Flattening the leaves that made up her tunic and running her fingers through her hair, she composed herself.  “Anyhow, enough of the perils.  It worked, and you are here.”

“Thank you Tapie, I’m glad you got me through.  This really means a lot.”

“Sure, but don't expect me to make a habit of it.”  She smiled wryly.  “So…what did you intend on doing next?”

“Well, I’m not sure.  I suppose I need to retrace my path back to Vergil, I just hope I can get there in time.  Will you come?” he asked earnestly.  In truth, Oscar had no plan for how to reach Vergil.  All he knew was he had a desperate desire to find the rat and to stop Edmund before it was too late.

“I'm afraid I cannot join you.” Tapie said. “I seldom leave the forest, and fear I would be more of a hindrance than a help.”  She looked at the boy's crestfallen face yet smiled warmly. “Besides I must remain here to look after your body through my counterpart in Singeard.  If I were to come with you my body would be likely to wander further a field.  But remember what you have learnt thus far Oscar.  Rules can be bent; you just need to figure out how they can change to suit you.  Don’t forget, you are a mind in a world of souls and that in itself is a huge advantage.”

The two parted ways, each bidding the other good luck.  Oscar returned to the North of the clearing to retrace his previous footsteps.  Without Vergil or Josie, he could not help but feel more exposed, naked somehow.  Despite Tapie’s words of encouragement he felt more vulnerable now he was alone, as though at any moment the vultures or wolf riders would seize upon him. 

The decayed trail which had originally marked the Maere’s path through the landscape had completely disappeared and new flowers bloomed afresh.  Though it was heartening that the forest could heal so quickly from the wound, this came as small consolation to the boy who had lost his path.  Deep in thought, Oscar wandered, trying to determine how he might best manipulate the rules of
Etiainheim.  He soon lost himself within the forest, any sense of direction foiled by the trees arching overhead with such magnificent stature as to block his view of anything else.

Numb to all the splendid colour and lustre of the forest, Oscar’s focus was on his destination and the urgent pull inside him which was leading him there.  An internal compass guided him as though a hidden force had come to play a hand in his destiny.  But it was more than just an idea coercing him along; he felt a desire, an aching within him which only relented if he abided by the path.  Resisting for just a moment he sat amongst some tall bluish, green grass and a prism of flowers to consider his options.  Despite the calming surroundings he was anxious.  It was frustrating, for how long had it been since the confrontation with Edmund’ Maere?  He could not stop thinking of Vergil and Josie and the other toys; if he was not successful in this world they would most likely all be doomed in the other.  The compulsion to move grew in intensity as though a counterweight far away would not release him, the other half of a dipole.  Oscar sprang once again to his feet. 

As he pushed further into the forest he emerged onto the edge of a meadow.  The grass was trampled and he was almost certain that this was the area where he had hidden from the vultures.  Now that he had his bearings again, Oscar turned purposefully to retrace the steps that he and Vergil had taken.  Yet he could not help feeling something was wrong:  with every step he took in that direction, he felt a deep pang, a sense that he was ignoring the internal compulsion that had guided him up until now.  Oscar sank once again to the floor.  Should he go in the direction in which he thought his companions must lie or was the compulsion telling him something crucial – a force too strong to be ignored?

Once a thought embeds itself into a mind it is hard to shake and Oscar could not rid himself of the sense that he should be following his instincts.  It gnawed inside him, making him feel anxious.  He closed his eyes and focused on the tugging at him as though it were an invisible thread.  Curiously, he explored it with his mind, drawing it closer in an attempt to understand what it meant.  As he pulled tentatively at the thread he was overwhelmed by nausea and opened his eyes with a start.  To his intense surprise, he discovered that he had apparently moved forward along the path by several yards.  Looking back he could see the distinct patch of grass he had just been sitting in. 

Amazed, yet doubting his own judgement, Oscar closed his eyes again.  Once more he concentrated on the persistent thread and tugged at it again, stronger this time.  Though more prepared for the unsettling sensation that came with his actions, he was still shocked by the results.  When he opened his eyes for the second time he found himself sat in the same pose but surrounded by floating orbs in the middle of a field; he must have travelled hundreds of yards, if not more. 

It were as though the mass of the object at the other end of the thread were so great that by pulling on it, Oscar only served to move himself closer.  Marvelling at this newly discovered phenomenon, Oscar could not quite believe he was being dragged across
Etiainheim towards who knew what.  Experimenting with the new-found ability, he held tightly onto a nearby rock and tried pulling with his mind once again.  Surely this time – anchored as he was – whatever was at the other end of the thread must come to him?  Yet Oscar was unprepared for the shock which jarred through his body as he was forcefully dragged from the rock and landed with a thump on the other side of the field.  Clearly he was dealing with something much stronger than himself.  Feeling suddenly doubtful, he considered turning back to the path he had taken with Vergil.  But the compulsion deep within him and his enduring curiosity served to spur him on.

Summoning together all of his mental strength he gave one final, monumental tug, this time keeping his eyes open.  From the very first instant of exertion the world whipped past his eyes in a blur.  Fields, trees and buildings merged as one, leaving only multicoloured streaks which formed a tunnel around his vision.  The effect was completely disorientating and Oscar felt the nausea rising up within him once again.  The sensations continued for several seconds until he feared he might fall over and then, abruptly, it all stopped. 

Looking around his new surroundings, Oscar now found himself sat in amongst the train carriages close to the loading bays; the area where he had last encountered Edmund’s Maere.  Line after line of rails peeled off to the horizon, with trains delivering coal to the station.  He had travelled a very long way and the aching pull had died off somewhat as though satisfied he was nearing the right place.  Oscar could still sense a gentle tug on his heart but the feeling had diminished somewhat.  Putting this out of his mind, he looked around for any trace of Vergil or the others but the dockyard was empty.  Carriages still shunted around, going about their business but this time no Itse were to be seen.   Oscar busied himself looking for any sign of where his companions might have gone, pushing further through the loading bay in the process. 

The train carriages which took up most of the rail space all looked incredibly similar: behemoth wood and iron constructions that were either completely empty or full of mounds of coal.  The locomotives however varied enormously.  Some were so diminutive they defied all sense in their ability to heave such convoys; others looked positively monstrous, the giant wedged fenders an imposing sight to behold.  The chimneys on each were of equal contrast, varying from the short and sturdy through to enormous funnel-like constructions that spewed out huge lugs of steam and smoke as they chuffed along.

Though each locomotive had a distinctive character, it soon became clear that some were more fanciful than others. The most extreme versions no longer looked like a conventional locomotive, instead appearing as creatures from far flung places.  One convoy in particular caught Oscar’s eye, for it was fronted by the head and torso of a crimson coloured dragon.  Apparently lying flat on its scaled belly, the dragon’s talons closed around the wheels and connecting rods holding all elements of the locomotive in place.  A ferocious beaked lizard head sat atop the boiler and fender, with smoke and steam billowing from its nostrils while a fire burned in the eyes.  The dragon locomotive was almost alive: the talons appeared to clench and release, while the mouth flexed slightly and growled when Oscar neared.  It was a staggering sight to which Oscar was in awe, but pulling himself reluctantly away he continued to scour the depot. 

It was only as Oscar decided to give up and turn back to where he had started that he realised he was no longer alone.  A small but determined presence was following him, for he could quite clearly hear it jangling whenever he moved.  Turning suddenly on the spot, his suspicions were confirmed as he caught the toy jester that he had nearly collided with in the electroplant.  Again, there was something familiar and Oscar recalled his realisation that this just might be the Itse of his old friend Piggy.  Indeed, the jester appeared to recognise Oscar and looked at him with its head cocked to one side.  The face had a stitched smile permanently emblazoned across it and button eyes which now bore into him.

“Don't suppose you know where Vergil and Josie are do you?” Oscar asked, only somewhat rhetorically - he faintly hoped the Jester might just turn and answer him.  Instead the toy character turned on its heel and walked away, a little springy tail bouncing as he went.  'Great' Oscar thought sarcastically, though to his surprise, after a few steps the jester turned again and continued to stare at him.  He sensed that the small jester was attempting in its own way to communicate –to show or lead him to somewhere or to something- and so cautiously he followed. 

The jester led Oscar decisively through a maze of carriages, locomotives and various other pieces of large machinery, looking back occasionally to ensure the boy was still following.  Eventually the small toy stopped and stood idly as if having reached its destination.  Looking around, Oscar thought he recognised the place, and yes, the jester had apparently led him to the exact spot where the fight with Edmund’s Maere and the flock of matrons had taken place.  Oscar drew back, unable to rid himself of the feeling he might be ambushed at any second.  No one was around to save him if that were the case and he could not help but wonder why the jester would lead him here.  It couldn’t be a trap, for surely Piggy would never betray him, so why would his Itse?

Oscar glanced around again, still somewhat mindful of an ambush but this time something caught his eye, something that wasn't there before.  Next to the wheel of a carriage a small object glinted in the moonlight.  Moving closer he discovered a sphere of metal, a composition of fragments which had tightly fused together. He stepped towards the ball and a shiver ran along his spine, tingling every nerve ending. He knew in that moment what he had found.  This was it, he thought, this was his soul, his Itse.  Suddenly it all made sense: the aching that had led him here, one so strong it overrode all else and had dragged him across Etiainheim through sheer force.  His soul had been lingering in the place his mind most wanted to be -where he thought Vergil, Josie and the toys were- the place he longed to get back to.

Now that he knew what it was, he could not help but feel slightly disappointed that his Itse was so uninspiring a form.  But as he reached out towards it, the sphere began to change, unfurling gracefully so that two metallic arms were clearly visible either side of a central shaft.   The column of metal protruded upwards, unfolding further as it went, every element weaving and branching out until a recognisable form slowly emerged.  It was a small boy, who looked much like a younger version of Oscar.  However the boy was made of brass and tin and other various metals, all moving together so smoothly they might have been constructed by an alien maker.  It was not so much steam power so much as it was electroart. 

Though two glowing yellow bulbs sat in the place of eyes, they shone with intelligence and blinked most realistically, controlled by fine metallic muscles.  Oscar looked into his soul’s eyes and smiled, for he saw far beyond the warming yellow glow they emitted.  The Itse stumbled toward him as a child would move to its parent and in one simple motion grasped Oscar's hand.

To Oscar it felt as though a lifetime of burden had fallen from his shoulders.  He never wanted to let go, for now –finally- he was complete.  It was a dangerous feeling and Oscar could see why Vergil had been reticent for the two to meet.  The desire to abandon a lifetime’s worth of worry and regret was intense and it was clear why for most people such a union should only ever become possible at the time of death.